Thursday, March 22, 2018

Get ready for a flirty, sexy contemporary romance from bestselling authors, A.L. Jackson and Rebecca Shea . . .

Cover Reveal
One Wild Night
{Hollywood Chronicles #1}
A.L. Jackson and Rebecca Shea
Release Date: April 16, 2018
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover: RBA Designs
~ Synopsis ~
Kaylee Rose Burton, kindergarten teacher, has never been a believer in fantasies.

Living in L.A. her entire life, she knows the glitz and glam of Hollywood is just an illusion.

That is until she stumbles head first into the arms of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor.

It was just another day for Paxton Myles on the red carpet until the blue-eyed beauty literally stumbles at his feet.  

A single glimpse in her innocent eyes and he knows he has to have her.  

After one night of unbridled passion, Kaylee slips away to live her quite life, but the paparazzi has other ideas.

When Kaylee’s world comes crashing down, can Paxton convince her that their one wild night could turn into forever?

 Be notified of LIVE RELEASE on Amazon
Signed Paperback PRE-ORDER

~ Giveaway ~

Don't miss our amazing giveaway going on to celebrate the ONE WILD NIGHT Cover Reveal!! Grand prize includes a signed FAULT LINES paperback, a signed Show Me the Way paperback, plus a $25.00 Amazon Gift Card!! Heck yes! 

​​~ About the Authors ~SLXL
A.L. Jackson and Rebecca Shea are bestselling authors residing in Arizona. After being writing partners for five years, it only made sense that they'd put their minds together to bring their readers something fun, flirty, and sexy. 

~ Connect with Amy ~
Reader Group:
Twitter: @aljacksonauthor
Instagram: @aljacksonauthor
Snapchat: @aljacksonauthor

~ Connect with Rebecca ~

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Release Day Review
Such Dark Things
Courtney Evan Tate (Courtney Cole) 
Genre:  Psychological Thriller
Publisher:  Mira (Harper Collins)
Release Date:  March 20, 2018
~ Synopsis ~
I thought I knew him. He thought he knew me. We were both wrong…

Dr. Corinne Cabot is living the American dream. She’s a successful ER physician in Chicago who’s married to a handsome husband. Together they live in a charming house in the suburbs. But appearances can be deceiving—and what no one can see is Corinne’s dark past. Troubling gaps in her memory mean she recalls little about a haunting event in her life years ago that changed everything.

She remembers only being in the house the night two people were found murdered. Her father was there, too. Now her father is in prison; she hasn’t been in contact in years. Repressing that terrifying memory has caused Corinne moments of paranoia and panic. Sometimes she thinks she sees things that aren’t there, hears words that haven’t been spoken. Or have they? She fears she may be losing her mind, unable to determine what’s real and what’s not.

So when she senses her husband’s growing distance, she thinks she’s imagining things. She writes her suspicions off to fatigue, overwork, anything to explain what she can’t accept—that her life really isn’t what it seems.

 ~ Excerpt ~

I miss you. I hate this place.

The text is from my wife.
My head falls back on the pillows, my hand grazing the empty side of the bed. The sheets there are cold. Corinne should be there next to me, her breath even and strong, her hair splayed out on the pillow, her warmth leaching into my body.
But she’s not.
I don’t know how she got access to her phone.
I miss you, too, babe, I answer. Um. How do you have your phone? Isn’t that against the rules?
They aren’t supposed to use their cellphones at Reflections since the devices are considered a distraction from treatment. As a therapist myself, I can’t say I disagree with that theory.

I had a bad night, so the day nurse is giving me 5 min to chat with you.

My gut contracts at that, at the notion that she has to get “permission” to talk with me, and once again I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. If Im doing the right thing. I pushed hard for her to admit herself, so that I wouldn’t have to do it against her will.
But the idea of Corinne in a mental hospital kills me.
Are you ok now? I ask.
Her answer is immediate. Not really. I’m ready to come home.
She adds a smiley face, but I know she’s not feeling smiley. No one in her situation would.
It’ll be ok, I assure her again, as I have four thousand other times this week. I promise.
I’ll take your word for it, she replies, and if I concentrate, I can almost see the wry expression on her face as she types. Her blue eyes will be wide, her brow furrowed. I smile. I love you, Ju.

I love you, too.

I gotta go, she tells me. My five minutes are up. See you Saturday?
Yes! I answer. I’ll be there.
Who would’ve ever thought I’d have to schedule a visit to my wife within a two-hour visiting window? Not me. Not her. In fact, not anyone who knows us.
But it’s our reality.
I burrow my head under my pillow, as though if I tunnel far enough into my bed, this new reality will escape me. It doesn’t, though. The image of finding my wife the way I did, in a pool of blood and insanity, will stay with me for the rest of my life.
I’ll never be able to un-see it.
My dog whines two minutes later, saving me from the memory, her bladder having shrunk with her old age.
“Just a minute, girl,” I mumble. “Give me a few minutes.”
She can’t wait, though, and I eventually haul myself out of bed, trudging out into the October cold, opening the back door.
Artie ambles out and relieves herself, taking her time. She sniffs at this and that, and I know she can’t see what she’s doing. Her eyes are cloudy with cataracts, and she can’t hear a thing.
“Come on, girl,” I call to her, loudly, shivering. “Get in here. It’s cold.”
When she’s good and ready, she returns to the house, and after I feed her breakfast, I throw some clothes on. I go running every morning. It used to be for fitness reasons only, but now it is also to relieve stress.
Lord knows, these days I’ve got an excess amount of that.
I run my normal route, through the running trails at the park, through the trees. I can see my breath and my shoes crunch through the dead leaves drifted into piles on the ground. One foot in front of the other, pounding down the path, because this is something I can control. I can run and run and run, until all thoughts evade me, pushed out of my brain by the simple and basal need for oxygen. The need to breathe.
The human body is interesting in that way. It will allow your mind to play its games, right up to the point where the basic need to live overtakes all else. My lungs burn more and more. I ignore it as long as I can.
It’s only when they feel about to burst that I finally stop, my hands on my knees as I pull air into my lungs. It takes several long minutes of thinking about nothing but breathing before I come back to the present.
Back to reality.
The Chicago traffic hums in the distance, as people race to work, but I’m removed from it here. This park is secluded and quiet, tranquil and removed. It’s a nature reserve, and if you close your eyes, you truly feel like you’re alone in the middle of nowhere.
Until a twig behind me snaps.
Startled, I whirl around.
I scan the tree line and the moving limbs, and there’s not another human soul here. The wind blows and bites at my face, and there’s nothing out there but the sun rising in the distance.
I’m alone, as I always am on this trail at this hour.
No one is here, and Corinne’s paranoia has affected me.
I wasnt alone, Jude! she’d told me, babbling until she lost consciousness in the ambulance. I wasnt alone.
But everyone knows she was. The alarm hadn’t been tripped. No one had broken in. It’s understandable why she’s paranoid, after living through what she did so long ago, but the fact remains, she has grown paranoid.
She had been alone that night.
Just as I’m alone now.
Jesus, Jude, I mutter to myself, and I take long steps, jogging toward home, even now fighting the urge to glance over my shoulder. I’m being a dumbass. I take the porch steps two at a time.
My house is a mausoleum without my wife, enormous and quiet, and I hate it. I didn’t get married for this.
I’m resentful of my own thoughts as I shower and shave, the fog steaming up the bathroom mirrors. Corinne isn’t here to remind me to turn on the exhaust fan, so I don’t.
With her gone, I do everything as I always would. Something in my head tells me not to change anything, because to change things while she’s gone might set her back.
I don’t know if it’s true, but I’m not going to chance it.
I let the bathroom steam up.
None of this is Corinne’s fault. The very fleeting resentful thought that I had just means I’m a selfish bastard. I’m in a beautiful home in the suburbs, and my wife is in a psych ward. Even worse, I pray every day that she won’t remember everything that put her there.
Because I’m a prick.
I feel like even more of a prick when my phone dings a second later and the woman who sent the text is not my wife.

You doing ok? I miss you.

Guilt billows through me like storm clouds, through my gut into my chest. So much of this is her fault, this woman who isn’t my wife, and while I should stay far, far away from her, I can’t. For so many complicated reasons, I can’t.
I sigh as I head out the door to start my day.
Excerpt Three:

I count the ceiling tiles in the night.
The light from the moon illuminates the dark just enough to see them.
From down the hall, I hear screaming, but that’s normal here. I’m under no illusions about what this place is.
I hear the nurses’ shoes as they scurry toward the noise, and I look again at the ceiling. There are over five-hundred tiles. I’m not sure of the exact number because every time I count, I get distracted.
I’m so lonely, and I know for a fact that I shouldn’t be in this room. I’m a physician. I should be medicating whomever is screaming.
But I’m not a doctor in this building. I have no credentials here. I’m a patient, like everyone else. It’s a difficult pill to swallow. It’s a fact that lodges in my throat and won’t go down.
With a sigh, I roll to my side, and stare at the wall. It’s white and stark, and the sheets beneath me are cold and thin. My bedding at home is luxurious and thick, spun Egyptian cotton, one-thousand thread count. It’s funny how accustomed I’ve gotten to nice things over the past few years.
During my childhood and med school, I didn’t have anything. Now, I pretty much have everything. And in this place, it’s a stark reminder of the differences between home and here.
The biggest difference of all is that I’m here, and Jude is not.
It’s hard to sleep without my husband. In all the years that we’ve been married, we’ve never been apart. We always sleep curled up together, our limbs intertwined. No matter how little we’re able to see each other during the day, we always wear each other like a second skin in the night.
I wonder if he’s struggling with this as much as I am?
I’ll ask him on Saturday.
God, I don’t get to see him until Saturday?
What day is it now?
With a start, amid my rambling thoughts, I realize I don’t know.
I don’t know what fucking day is it.
How long have I been in here?
One day?
Two days?
The walls close in on me, getting tighter and tighter, until I squeeze my eyes shut so that I don’t have to see them. The only way to survive this is to just plow right through it. I’ll do what they want me to do, and I’ll breathe, and I’ll talk to them, and I’ll remember, and I’ll get better.
I count, whispering, the monotony lulling me into sleep.
One one thousand.
Two one thousand.
Three one thousand.
The last number I remember is one hundred before I drift into the abyss of sleep.
The hissing whisper wakes me, and my eyes open wide, and I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping. Minutes? Hours?
At first, I think I’m dreaming, but then I see the outline of a girl…a woman…in the chair next to my bed.
It’s dark so I can’t see her face, but her nail polish glints in the moonlight. It’s chipped around the edges. She chews her nails, and she seems so so familiar.
“Who are you?” I ask, a pit forming in the base of my stomach.
“Your worst nightmare.”
I sit straight up in bed, trying like hell to adjust my eyes to the dark, and in that one split second, she’s gone.
I scramble out of bed, turn on the lights, and the nurses find me moments later crawling on my hands and knees, searching beneath my bed.
“What are you looking for?” they ask curiously as they help me up.
“There was a girl in here…” I tell them, and they look at each other strangely because we’re definitely alone now.
“What did she look like?” one asks me as I crawl back into bed.
“I couldn’t see her,” I have to admit. “It was too dark. And her face…it seemed blurry.”
“Maybe you were dreaming,” one suggests.
“I wasn’t,” I insist. “I wasn’t alone.”
But they don’t listen. They turn off my light, and maybe I really am crazy.
I’m on edge for the rest of the night, watching and waiting for someone to appear, but they never do. My muscles are tight and coiled, ready to lunge out of bed again.
But I don’t need to.
She doesn’t come back.
I’ve got to relax. I’ve got to breathe.
I count my breaths until I finally fall asleep again.
The last breath I remember is number five hundred and four.

~ Links to Buy ~
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~ Review ~

 What a ride!  It was most definitely a page turner and had my attention just from the synopsis.  Courtney took me down yet another rabbit hole in this book.  Corrine broke my heart.  Her past slowly creeping up on her until she broke.  Being separated from her husband who seemed to only want what was best for her added additional stress to her situation.

One thing I learned early on in this book was never to assume you knew where the story was going.  Just when you think you know something the story takes another turn which will truly engage you even more.

The story is weaved so intricately that you are lost between the pages.  I truly had a hard time pulling myself away to do "adulting".  

Temptation can be a very strong thing and it definitely was conflicting for Jude. When conflicted he would seek out his brother Michael.  Although he tried to resist spending time with Zoe  the absence of Corrine seemed to override his thinking.  Unfortunately it's his fall that  adds so much more to the story.  As we peel back the layers of the story and the actions that get us to where the story starts, all the pieces fall in to place leaving you with a gasp. 

This book is told in both past and present day.  With an amazing secondary character in Jude's brother, Michael.  All I can tell you is that this book is truly worth the ride.  If you like a little mystery, a bit of a thrill and not knowing what's coming on the next page....this is the book for you.

~ Rating ~

~ Connect with Courtney ~
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 Cover Reveal
Katy Evans
Release Date:  May 31, 2018
Genre: Contemporary Romance
~ Synopsis ~
He's my most delicious secret.
The hot Suit I had a one-night stand with one evening.
I didn't know anything about him, not even his name.
Only that we shared a taxi, and he was staying at the hotel where I worked.
We met in room 301. Where he commanded not only my body but my soul.
The next day he was gone and I only had a memory of him.
I could still taste his kisses, feel his demanding touch.
I searched for him for months. Daydreaming about him. Wondering if I'd ever find him.
Until the day I find myself staring face to face with his jeweled black eyes again.
He says lets keep it casual, and my heart knows that falling for this workaholic in a three-thousand-dollar suit is off the table.
Because he has a secret. One that's a deal breaker for me.
My Suit has a name.
Ian Ford.
And this is our story.

~ Links to Pre-order ~

Paperback, GooglePlay, and other links to come!

 ~ About the Author ~
Katy Evans is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Her debut REAL shot to the top of the bestselling lists in 2013 and since then 9 of her titles have been New York Times bestsellers. Her books have been translated into nearly a dozen languages across the world.

 ~ Connect with Katy ~
Twitter @authorkatyevans

Thursday, March 15, 2018

Cover Reveal
{A Four Fathers Novel #4}
Ker Dukey

Release Date: April 32, 2018
Genre: Dark Suspense 

~ Synopsis ~
I am dark. Calculating. A single father.
I have secrets that would horrify most people.
Stalking is a habit I refuse to break—and what happens after is a sweet reward.
My life is exactly the way I have designed it.
But an undeserving, sick monster is dating my only daughter.
Until I deal with my problem, I can’t truly enjoy everything I’ve created.
My name is Jax Wheeler.
I’m a twisted, evil, insane man.
People may be afraid of me, but it doesn’t stop them from wanting me.

About the Four Fathers Series
Four Fathers Series by bestselling authors
J.D. Hollyfield, Dani René, K Webster, and Ker Dukey

Four genres.
Four bestselling authors.
Four different stories.
Four weeks in April.
One intense, sexy, thrilling ride from beginning to end!

NOTE: These books were designed so you can read them out of order. However, they all interconnect and would be best enjoyed by reading them all!
Add them to your TBR here…..

    1 – Blackstone
2 – Kingston
3 – Pearson
 4 – Wheeler

~ About the Author ~
I have always had a passion for storytelling, whether it be through lyrics or bedtime stories with my sisters. I wanted to be an actress growing up so I could live many roles but I learned early on that my mind was too active… I would want to change the script.I would watch films and think of ways they could have improved the story if they took another direction so I thought it best that I tell my own.

My mum would always have a book in her hand when I was young and passed on her love for reading, inspiring me to venture into writing my own. I tend to have a darker edge to my writing. Not all love stories are made from light, some are created in darkness but are just as powerful and worth telling.

When I’m not lost in the world of characters I love spending time with my family. I’m a mum and that comes first in my life but when I do get down time I love attending music concerts or reading events with my younger sister.
You can find me on Facebook where I love interacting with my readers.
~ Connect with Ker ~

 Cover Reveal
{Rebel Series #1}
Molly McAdams
Photography Credit: Regina Wamba
Cover Designer: RBA Designs
Release Date: April 30, 2018
~ Synopsis ~
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Molly McAdams delivers the first captivating, stand-alone novel in her REDEMPTION series spin-off—the REBEL series . . .

I’m not the kind of girl you forget.
I wish I was.
I wish I was normal.
That I could blend into a crowd. Have a future with the man I’ve loved my entire life…

Maxon James understands me in a way others can’t.
For as long as I can remember, he’s vowed that one day he would claim my wild, rebel heart. God knows I wanted him to try. I wanted the life he promised me in his lyrics.
But his assurances couldn’t change the past, and the infamous mafia blood in my veins guarantees my heart can’t be claimed.

Somewhere along the way, I slipped. I let myself believe we could have it all. Now a dark, menacing shadow hovers between us, mocking us for daring to hope for a normal future.

And it’s come to collect on a blood oath.

My name’s Elizabeth Borello—Libby for short. Don’t worry about forgetting it… He hasn’t.
~ Link to Pre-Order ~
Sign Up for Amazon Live Alert:

 ~ Giveaway ~
Win a $25 Gift Card

~ About the Author ~
Molly grew up in California but now lives in the oh-so-amazing state of Texas with her husband, daughter, and fur babies. When she's not diving into the world of her characters, some of her hobbies include hiking, snowboarding, traveling, and long walks on the beach … which roughly translates to being a homebody with her hubby and dishing out movie quotes. She has a weakness for crude-humored movies and fried pickles, and loves curling up in a fluffy comforter during a thunderstorm ... or under one in a bathtub if there are tornados. That way she can pretend they aren't really happening.

Subscribe to Molly’s newsletter today!

~ Connect with Molly ~
Amazon Author Page