October 30, 2017

THE PLAN BY ELLA JAMES-EXCERPT REVEAL


The Plan by Ella James is coming
November 13th!

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Synopsis:

You’ve heard this story before. Woman feels her biological clock ticking and gets someone to knock her up.

Not for love, for baby.

Crazy, right?

That’s what I thought.

Then I found out my fiancé had a vasectomy. The life I thought I had? Nope. Suddenly I’m 33, and I don’t even have a kissing buddy.

When my mom’s health takes a turn and I wind up back in my hometown of Fate, Alabama, I tell myself to leave things up to…well, you know.

Then I see Gabriel McKellan. He’s Fate’s most famous son, a bestselling author who is beautiful, complicated, and living just below me. In addition to his plus-sized brain, Gabe’s well-endowed in other ways, and great in bed to boot. I would know. He's my ex husband.

When I suggest The Plan, I don't imagine that he'll take the bait. It's been ten years, and we don't work. But Fate has other plans for both of us.



I climb inside the U-Haul and grab two small things first: my favorite Elvis lamp and a box of yarn and clay, easy pickings for my first trip up the stairs to my rented digs. Then I grab my purse off the truck’s rear ledge, step down, and—

“Oofh!”

I blink at the wall I’ve just slammed into, and there he is. At first, I think I’m seeing things. I blink a few times, fast, to try to magic him away. Hallucination. But…he’s not.

His curly hair is wild and dark, just like it always was. His blue-gray eyes—more blue, although he claims they’re gray—are just as sharp as I recall. His face is still so striking: dark brows over a stern, strong nose, and high cheekbones. My gaze skates over his rich mouth, and I realize I’d forgotten how handsome he is.

Gabriel McKellan is famous at least in part because he looks like such a god. The familiarity of him hits me like a ball of ice right to the gut, but where he’s different makes me warm. That stubble-beard, the way his jaw is sharper, shoulders thicker. My gaze skates down his white t-shirt, pasted over rigid abs. I note his forearms—thicker, tanned—before appraising jeans-clad thighs.

One flexes.

Shit.

My errant gaze jerks back up, where I find his features twisted in a scowl.

“What are you doing?” he asks roughly.

I blink. “What?”

Gabe’s brows pinch together, and he glares behind me, at the truck. “What are you doing here, Marley?”

I look around the quiet, leaf-strewn street, trying to explain not what I’m doing, but why I’m seeing him here. Nothing looks amiss, though. Nothing to suggest I’ve had a mental break.

“I’m moving back to Fate. Today,” I add, my voice a squeak above its normal octave.

Gabe’s foot taps the curb between us. Even barefoot, he’s a domineering prick. I inhale slowly, bringing my heart-rate down a notch, so I seem more gathered when I ask, “Where are your shoes?”

“Why did you park here,” he demands again.

“Because I’m moving in?” It’s not a question, but it sounds like one. I bug my eyes out in response to his mean stare. “What are you doing here—and where are your shoes?”

“My shoes are inside.”

I blink at the porch behind him. “Inside where?”

“Inside the house behind me.”

“What?”

Gabe’s head is still shaking, his jaw locked like an angry sentry.

“What the hell is this about?” My heart begins to pound. “Are you my greeting party?”

“I’m your warning party,” he says quietly.

“Warning me from what?”

“I live here, Marley. On the bottom floor.”

“But…you’re—”

“I’m living here.” His face hardens. “I think that means you need to close your truck and go.”

Is he insane? My head spins. Gabe can’t be… “You can’t live here,” I sputter. “You live in New York!”

For an instant, I feel sure this is a joke: a TV joke. Famous author/director shocks unknown ex-wife by popping up at her new place.

“Is there a hidden camera?” I ask lamely.

“No, Marley. There’s not. There’s just a house—with room for one.”

“Yeah…me.”

His lush mouth tightens. “I don’t think so.”

I laugh. “Oh—you watch.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 Ella James is the USA Today and Amazon Top 10 bestselling author of more than twenty love stories. She’s an angst-a-holic who loves exploring difficult situations and the emotions of the people caught up in them. Also, smut. But always, always romance.

Ella is an Alabama native who makes her home in Colorado with her husband, three young children, and hyperactive dog. When she’s not writing, she can be found hiking the foothills, taking nature photos for her Instagram account, or swilling vanilla cream soda. 


CONNECT WITH ELLA

Subscribe to Ella's newsletter: https://www.ellajamesbooks.com/newsletter/
 
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October 26, 2017

A LITTLE TOO LATE BY STACI HART-BLOG TOUR


"A Little Too Late came right on time. Five stars!"-Brittainy C. Cherry, Amazon #1 Bestselling Author

A Little Too Late, an all-new romantic standalone from Staci Hart is available NOW!


A Little Too Late by Staci Hart
Publishing Date: October 24th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

I wasn't supposed to fall in love with the nanny.

When my wife left, she took the illusion of happiness with her, and I've been caught in a free fall ever since. For nine long months, I've been fighting to figure out how to be a single dad, how to be alone.

For nine long months, I've been failing.

When Hannah walked through the door, I took my first breath since I'd found myself on my own. She slipped into our lives effortlessly, showing me what I've been missing all these years. Because Hannah made me smile when I thought I'd packed the notion of happiness away with my wedding album.

She was only supposed to be the nanny, but she's so much more.

The day my wife left should have been the worst day of my life, but it wasn't. It was when Hannah walked away, taking my heart with her.


CHARLIE The next morning, I was up and in my office before anyone was awake, attacking my work with newfound enthusiasm and a plan in mind. Because I wanted to feel like I’d felt the night before in the kitchen again, and there was only one way to get that back. Today, I would take a few breaks and be present. Today, I would change, work be damned. Today would mark the first real attempt. Because change wouldn’t happen on its own. I had to make it happen. And to make it happen, I would have to put boundaries in place, starting with my weekends. I checked the clock around eleven that morning and closed my laptop, pushing away from my desk and heading up the stairs in search of my children. When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I found them sitting at the table with their lunches. And when they saw me, their smiles validated my grand plans with unwavering certainty. “Hey, guys,” I said, smiling back as I walked over to them, ruffling Sammy’s hair when I passed him. “Hi, Daddy,” he said. Maven’s mouth was full, so she just waved, and Hannah smiled at me from the island where she was setting up a spread for sandwiches. I snagged a grape off Maven’s plate and popped it into my mouth. She handed me another, which I accepted. “Thanks, pumpkin.” “Are you done working?” Sammy asked hopefully. “’Fraid not, bud. But I thought I’d come have lunch with you. Is that okay?” “Yeah! Want a Nilla Wafer?” “Psh, obviously. And I thought we could play for a little bit before I have to get back to work. What do you say?” He nodded, grinning. “We can play trucks! You be the bulldozer and I’ll be the tractor and Maven can be the monster truck and Hannah can be the ambulance because she helps people.” “Perfect,” I said on a chuckle. A burst of color caught my eye. A vase on the windowsill behind the table held a spray of red and orange tulips. “Those are beautiful,” I said, gesturing to them. “Where did they come from?” “Oh, I picked them up this morning,” Hannah said with that ever-present smile. “Feeling homesick?” “Always a little. But I love having fresh flowers in the house, something bright and delicate and alive. Well, maybe not alive anymore, but it feels alive, doesn’t it?” “It does,” I said as I moved to her side. “Can I make you a sandwich?” Hannah asked. “Nah, I think I can manage, thanks. How’s it going this morning?” “It’s good. We went to the park this morning.” “I rode my bike!” Sammy crowed. “Did you? No bumps or scrapes?” “Nope!” “I’m impressed. Maybe next time I can come too,” I said, hoping it was something I could deliver as I reached into the bread bag for a stack. Hannah turned to the cupboard, returning with a plate for me. “Thank you.” She was still smiling, standing at my side, assembling her sandwich. It was so mundane, something completely and utterly boring, but like the weirdo that I was, I found myself watching her hands as she folded cold cuts. We worked around each other—not that it was complicated, but there was a sort of rhythm between us, a natural pace wherein I used what she wasn’t and finished just as she needed what I had. I wasn’t sure why I noticed it, but I did, and I appreciated the simple synchronicity of the moment, a breath where things were easy. I passed her the mustard as she handed me the ham. “So, I was thinking …” I paused. “Oh, were you?” She glanced over at me with a hint of mirth at the corners of her lips. “I know. I almost sprained something.” Hannah laughed gently. “If it’s okay, I think I’d like to try to handle bedtime tonight.” “Of course it’s okay; they’re your children.” That time, her laughter was sweet. “Do you … would you … do you think you could maybe …” She shifted to face me, her eyes full of encouragement. “Would you mind … helping me?” Hannah nodded, her smile opening up. “That’s what I’m here for. Just let me know what you’d like me to do.” I smiled back. “I’m sorry. I know it sounds stupid. I just … I haven’t done this much on my own, but I’d like to start.” Her eyes softened, caught by slanting light, lighting up with sunshine. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she said simply. I didn’t speak. “There’s no right or wrong, and they don’t care about anything other than you being there. It’s simple enough; you only have to try.” “Is it really that easy?” “It really is. You’ll see.” She reached for my arm and gave it a squeeze that wasn’t meant to be anything but friendly but held something more, something in the pressure in her fingertips and the depths of her eyes. It was something I did my very best to ignore. But I felt the heat of those fingertips long after they were gone, even as we sat across the table from each other eating lunch, the tulips in the vase behind her bowing their long heads as the sunlight illuminated them, exposing what was hidden within their petals.

  

Read Today!


Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2iZfozn

 

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics. 

 
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SPIDER BY ILSA MADDEN-MILLS-COVER REVEAL



From Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills comes a new standalone romance about a flawed hero and the woman he can’t forget.
Spider, a sexy and forbidden new standalone, arrives November 13th! 

Title: Spider 
Author: Ilsa Madden-Mills 
Publication Date: November 13th, 2017
Cover Designer: Shanoff Designs 
Model: Amadeo Leandro
Photographer: Wong Sim


He calls himself Spider.

I just know him as the sinfully gorgeous guy with eyes of fire that fate places next to me on the airplane.

I didn’t who he really was . . . future rock star . . . my stepbrother.

He kissed me because he thought he’d never see me again. He would.

Everyone warned me about him.

They told me he was careless and ruthless and screwed up.

They said he’d leave me with a hole in my heart.

Maybe I should have listened.

Maybe I should have built a fortress to keep him out.

But I crumbled instead.

They say an unbreakable thread connects those who are destined to meet. If that’s true, then the moment he sat next to me, we were bound together forever.

He just had to figure it out before it’s too late…

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2zcQDni

 


About the Author 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap. She's addicted to dystopian books and all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding females. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she's a Gemini), and tattoos. She has a degree in English and a Master's in Education. When she's not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets and paints old furniture. 

Connect with Ilsa

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2k6L96J 
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October 25, 2017

FAULT LINES BY REBECCA SHEA-EXCERPT REVEAL


From USA Today bestselling author, Rebecca Shea, comes a new, heartbreakingly beautiful standalone romance, FAULT LINES. Don’t miss the stunning and captivating excerpt below, and pre-order your copy today!


About FAULT LINES:

At eleven he was my first crush. At sixteen he became mine. At nineteen he broke my heart and destroyed me. That was ten years ago and the last time I saw Cole Ryan.
They say you never get over your first love...I beg to differ. I left my shattered heart buried in a town I never expected to return to. I erased every thought of him and buried the memories never to be found.
I moved on...now ten years later I have the perfect life, the perfect fiancé, the perfect career. Everything I ever wanted until I'm forced to go back and face my past and the man that destroyed me.
He won't stop until I know the truth no matter how hard I fight it. In the end, lies will be uncovered, hearts will be broken, and my life as I've come to know it destroyed.

FAULT LINES is coming October 30, 2017! Pre-order your copy today!



 

EXCERPT: PROLOGUE

 Frankie Ten Years Ago My fingers dig into the brown dirt between the patches of dead grass that used to once be a lush front yard. A jagged stone cuts into the soft flesh of my knee as I try to get control of the involuntary lurching of my stomach, which has me crippled on all fours. Tears fall in streams, and I gasp for air as I hear the sound of heavy footsteps near me. “Frances—” “Get away from me!” I scream at the soft voice. “It’s not—” “I said get the hell away from me!” My stomach clenches against another wave of nausea as I hear her footprints begin to move away. “Goooooo!” I shout at her again. I manage to look over my shoulder and see Whitney Carson’s long blonde hair swaying as she walks quickly back across the cul-de-sac to her piss yellow, beat-to-hell Mustang. I barely make out the swell of her belly as she slides into the driver’s seat and slams the door behind her. The roar of the engine tells me she’s leaving. One last heave and there is nothing left for my stomach to expel, leaving me with only my tears. My throat burns, my breaths coming in small gasps when I feel soft arms around my shoulders. I hear the creak of the old screen door and my mama’s worn shoes come into sight just before I feel her arms around me. “Baby girl, what’s wrong? We weren’t expecting you home from school until tomorrow…” Her voice is quiet, yet panicked as she kneels next to me, her white uniform dress getting dirty. I finished my finals early so that I could come home early and surprise Cole and my mom, but the surprise was all mine. “Mama,” I cry between ragged breaths. “I came home early to surprise you and—” “Stop,” she cuts me off, looking over my shoulder behind me. “Let’s get you inside. If this has anything to do with that girl that’s been coming around, he’s not worth your tears. You’re going to put your chin up and enjoy your summer.” She tugs at my arm in hopes to get me to budge. I shake my head back and forth violently. “No. I can’t stay here,” I manage through my tears. I can’t stay and watch this happen. I can’t stay and watch them. “What do you mean? Where would you go?” Her voice grows with concern. “I don’t know, but I can’t stay here.” The hot summer air hangs heavy around us, and sweat beads along my forehead at my hairline. The thought of Cole touching Whitney Carson causes my stomach to flip again, and I dry heave as I pinch my eyes closed. Mom rubs her hand over my arm as I try to gain my composure and move from all fours to sitting on the dirt. “Well, come inside until we figure this out.” Her voice is soft and sad. “I’ve always told you he was—” “Please, stop—” I cut her off now, not wanting to talk about Cole with her. I hear her deep sigh. “Come on. I’ll run you a hot bath. We need to get you cleaned up.” The tears still fall in waves as my heart breaks with each step I take toward our house and away from Cole Ryan. As I think about it, the last few months begin to make sense. I sensed Cole pulling away from me. He’d become distant, not returning my calls or answering text messages. Mama called me and had told me about the rumors she’d heard, but we chose to chalk them up to small town gossip. Crescent Ridge is just that, a small town where no one has anything else to do but talk about other people and spread rumors. Suddenly, realization hits me that the one person I trusted more than anyone in the world betrayed me. He’s been my best friend since I was eleven, my first crush, my first love, my first everything. No other person will ever etch himself so boldly into my history as Cole Ryan did. No other person held the cards to destroy me like Cole Ryan did. And did he ever. I bite my tongue, tasting the slightest hint of blood as Mama walks me up the raggedy old front porch of our house. “Keep walking, baby girl.” She guides me through the front door. “Keep your chin held high,” she says quietly, the screen door slamming hard behind us. She looks at me with sympathetic eyes and her voice cracks as she speaks. “Now you can fall apart, Frances. Don’t ever let him see you crumble; don’t give him that control. He is not worth your tears.” And crumble is what I do as I sink to the faded wood floors of our living room, Mama rocking me in her lap, her fingers stroking my hair and wiping my tears. I cry and scream for the love I believed in, for the boy who owned my heart, and the loss of the one person I long for—the one person I had planned to spend my last breath with. Mama holds me for hours as my tears come and go. At the first hints of the morning sunlight, I peel myself from Mama’s lap, my head pounding from the hours of crying. I pull my cell phone from my back pocket and press the name of the only other friend I have. “Ash.” My voice breaks and I barely make out what she’s saying, but one thing is certain. I’m getting the hell out of Crescent Ridge and never looking back. “I’m coming,” I tell her. Between my tears and gasping breaths, I disconnect my call and see Mama swipe at the tears on her aging cheeks. She sat here all night comforting me as I lay helpless in her lap. In the end, she’s the one person who believes in me and has loved me unconditionally, and here I am about to leave her behind. Leave everything I know and love behind, without a second thought. For good. I know that when I drive away from here today, I’ll never be back—I can’t come back. I’m leaving my broken heart behind, along with the only man I’ve ever loved. I toss my bag and one small box of belongings from my childhood bedroom in the trunk of my car and slide into the driver’s seat of my old Honda. Without a second thought, I put the car in drive and glance just once out my rearview mirror as I pull away. The last thing I see is Cole Ryan, hunched over the paint-chipped railing of his front porch as I drive away from Crescent Ridge, leaving him, my past, and my mama behind. 


About Rebecca Shea: 

Rebecca Shea is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Unbreakable series (Unbreakable, Undone, and Unforgiven) and the Bound and Broken series (Broken by Lies and Bound by Lies). She lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her family. From the time Rebecca could read she has had a passion for books. Rebecca spends her days working and her nights writing, bringing stories to life. Born and raised in Minnesota, Rebecca moved to Arizona in 1999 to escape the bitter winters. When not working or writing, she can be found on the sidelines of her sons’ football games, or watching her daughter at ballet class. Rebecca is fueled by insane amounts of coffee, margaritas, Laffy Taffy (except the banana ones), and happily ever afters. 


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HE LOVES ME...KNOT BY RC BOLDT-COVER REVEAL


He Loves Me...KNOT by RC Boldt is coming soon on NOVEMBER 14th! Check out this beautiful cover!


→ Add it to your GR TBR: https://goo.gl/eAco2g 
→ Get notified when the Amazon preorder is LIVE: http://www.subscribepage.com/o9t9w8

PREORDER NOW: 



Sometimes love needs a second chance… I never looked back after skipping out on my own wedding, even if it did leave me estranged from most of my family. Eight years later, I have the life I’ve always wanted. As an advertising account executive, my world is damn near perfect. Until I come face-to-face with my past. With the man I once loved. The man who holds my future in his hands. The man who’s hell-bent on getting even with me for leaving him at the altar. Even with all the unfinished business between us, I still love Knox Montgomery. The only problem? He loves me…KNOT. 

 

 

About the Author: 

RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she’s your girl. 

Email: rcboldtbooks@gmail.com 
Facebook Reader Group: http://bit.ly/2iNvOqS 
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