Excerpt Reveal :: When We Touch :: Tia Louise

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SNEAK PEEK of When We Touch, an all-new sexy, second chance standalone from Tia Louise is coming September 5th!

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Excerpt:

Ember Jackson Cane tastes like red-hot cinnamon, salt water, and sin. When he concentrates, his long fingers twist in the back of his dark hair, right at the base of his neck, and he tugs. Tugs… tugs… I like to weave my fingers between his and pull. Then ocean-blue eyes blink up to mine sending electricity humming in my veins. He smiles. I smile, and it isn’t long before our lips touch. I climb onto his lap in a straddle as I open my mouth, and his delicious tongue finds mine heating every part of my body. Our kisses are languid and deep, chasing and tasting. We sizzle like fireworks on a hot summer night… Eventually, with a heavy sigh, I pull away, but hours later my mouth is still burning. I taste him everywhere I go. Lying in my bed in the dark room, my heart aches, heavy and painful in my chest. Every breath is a burden. I blink slowly at the ceiling and slide my tongue against the back of my teeth thinking about hot cinnamon, tangy salt, caramel and sugar, sunshine and the best summer of my life… The instant I hear it, I’m on my feet and tiptoeing to my open window. The low growl of an engine tells me he’s there in the darkness, out on the street in the shadows just past the streetlight. It’s late summer, and the humidity hangs heavy in the air. Bugs scree from the limbs of the mighty oak tree outside my window. Their damp wings make them too heavy to fly, and the sadness in my chest is replaced with breathless anticipation. I’m panting. I’ve never felt this way for anyone, and I’m desperate to hold onto it. I somehow I know I’ll never feel this way for anyone ever again. Quiet as a mouse I scamper to my bedroom door and listen. The only sound is the hum of Mama’s oscillating fan pushing the warm air around her bedroom. I can’t hear her breathing. I can’t hear anything… except the noise of Jackson’s engine on the street below, waiting. Red-hot cinnamon. Salt water. Sin. Pressure tingles around the edges of my skull, and a bead of sweat tickles down the side of my neck, dropping past my shoulder, slipping between my breasts. I’m at my window slowly lifting the glass, and I don’t care if she hears me. I dive through the space, out onto the cedar shake roof in my bare feet. I’ll get a splinter if I’m not careful… So many reasons to be careful—I ignore them all.

Synopsis:

From international bestselling author Tia Louise comes a new STAND-ALONE second-chance romance…
Ember Rose was spicy-sweet seduction.
My biggest temptation.
My biggest regret.
I thought she’d always be waiting for me.
I was wrong.
Now I’m back in Oceanside searching for peace, hoping to escape what my life has become.
She isn’t supposed to be here…
Dark hair blowing in the ocean breeze,
Luscious curves barely hidden by thin cotton.
I didn’t come back for her.
But when we touch, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make her mine…
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About Tia Louise:
Tia Louise is the award-winning, international bestselling author of the ONE TO HOLD and DIRTY PLAYERS series and co-author of the #4 Amazon bestseller THE LAST GUY. From “Readers’ Choice” nominations, to USA Today “Happily Ever After” nods, to winning the 2015 “Favorite Erotica Author” and the 2014 “Lady Boner Award” (LOL!), nothing makes her happier than communicating with fans and weaving new tales into the Alexander-Knight world of stories. A former journalist, Louise lives in the center of the USA with her lovely family and one grumpy cat. There, she dreams up stories she hopes are engaging, hot, and sexy, and that cause readers rethink common public locations... TL_Logo_NOBCK
Connect with Tia:
Twitter: @AuthorTLouise
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Review :: Sexcation :: Heidi McLaughlin

Title: Sexcation
Author: Heidi McLaughlin
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 24, 2017
He’s British.
She’s American. 
They meet on vacation. 
And agree to fake name each other. 
One is lying about everything. 
The other is telling the truth. 
They’re about to embark on a sexcation.
But what happens when it’s over?
"Heidi McLaughlin does it again with this delightfully sexy read. Sexcation lines its chapters with rich character development, sex that doesn't have you skipping pages, witty banter/plot and belly laughs for days. These characters have jumped from the story and straight into my heart. 5 sweet yet sinful stars!" - K.Pinson, Author of Between the Raindrops

"With a sexy, British-accented hero & a tropical setting that had me longing for the beach, Sexcation is the perfect fictional getaway." - USA Today Best Selling Author, Cindi Madsen

"A sexy vacation romance perfect for your next summer read!" - Sarah Robinson, Best Selling Author of NUDES

"A book that kept a smile on face the whole time. I fell in love from the first word and couldn't stop reading till the end." - Natasha Madison, Best Selling Author

"The sexy as sin vacation we all dream about! Heidi McLaughlin does it again with Sexcation, a steamy read turned epic romance that will leave you rooting for that happy ending. Five sizzling stars!" - Best Selling Author, Amy Briggs
Y'all. I loved this story. It was fun, sexy, and sweet. 

There were a lot of things that happened that I rolled my eyes at, but I suspended my disbelief that any of this could happen so I could enjoy the story for what it was: a seriously fun romp in the sand. 

These two characters were so much fun together. Their little game was intriguing and captivating. Even though they didn't want to talk about it, they were forced to when they were put in the situation they found themselves in ... and it was light, sweet, and just a genuine joy to read. 

Four stars. 
I laugh and find myself tempted by her hand, which sits on the metal table. After our impromptu snogging session, Jade put on a nice little sundress which has my imagination running wild and some strappy sandals. Her toes are painted a turquoise blue. I found it a little weird at first; normally I see reds or pinks on toes, but rarely a blue colour. I quite like it. I like it a lot. In fact, I’ve yet to find something about this woman I don’t like. 
“And yet, you didn’t. I came over and kissed you. You could’ve punched me, kicked me in the nuts, or groped me. I’m grateful you let me kiss you the way I did.”
She blushes again. “Why did you? I’m sure there are other, more beautiful women at the resort that would’ve been happy to oblige you.”
“But then I wouldn’t be here with my pretend wife, trying to get to know more about her.”
Her eyes don’t waver from mine as she takes a sip of her cocktail. “Do you really want to get to know me?”
“The fake you, yes. I don’t want to get cornered by one of the triplets and not know my facts.”
“Are they in fact, triplets?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t got a bloody clue, to be honest with you. Fake tits all look the same at the end of the day.”
Her mouth falls open into a sexy little O and images of other ways I can make that happen pop straight into mind. “I named them Muffy, Tuffy, and Buffy. The names seemed fitting,” she says with a shrug. 
I crack the fuck up. “Then that is what we’ll call them until they leave.”
“Do you know when that is? Or what room they’re in?”
I lean over the table and pick her hand up. “They leave after us, and no, I don’t, thank goodness. I don’t care either. I made you a promise and I always keep my promises.” I bring her hand to my lips and let them linger against her skin until a passer-by makes a comment about us being in love. 
Not love, lust though, and I couldn’t be happier that I chose her to be my distraction this week. When I finally let go of her hand, she picks up her drink and finishes it. 
“Want another one?” I ask, already standing by the time she nods. I lean down and kiss the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. The smell of grapefruit assaults my senses, making my heart race. I groan as I walk into the restaurant. I could’ve easily waited for the waitress to come back to us, but I needed to step away from Jade for a minute. She’s fucking deadly with her innocent façade and I have a strong reason to believe I’m going to fall victim to her and love every minute of it. 
When I walk out, there’s a bloke talking to her as if it’s an everyday occurrence. I have never been jealous of any man until now. The pure rage I feel, watching him talk to my pretend wife almost takes over my body, yet I find the will to let it go. Who am I to stand in the way of her potential hook-ups?
Heidi is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author.
Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband and two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper Beagle/Jack Russell, Buttercup and a Highland West/Mini Schnauzer, JiLL and her brother, Racicot.
When she's isn't writing one of the many stories planned for release, you'll find her sitting court-side during either daughter's basketball games.
Heidi's first novel, Forever My Girl, will be in theaters on October 27, 2017, starring Alex Roe and Jessica Rothe.

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Cover Reveal :: Just Say Yes :: Samantha Lind




Title: Just Say Yes
Series: Indianapolis Eagles #1
Author: Samantha Lind
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Juliana Cabrera, Jersey Girl Design
Photo: Shauna Kruse, Kruse Images & Photography
Models: Kristen Lazarus-Wood & Justin James Cadwell
Release Date: September 21, 2017



Blurb

What will it take for her to Just Say Yes?

Scott Taylor has the perfect life. He gets to fulfill his dream playing professional hockey, has a loving family, and a tight group of friends. But the one thing missing in his life is a partner to come home to. He knows exactly who he wants to fill that position– the only woman he has ever loved. The one who got away, who constantly consumes his every thought. What it would take to get her to Just Say Yes to a second chance?

Becca Phillips is an independent woman who has made her career as an ER nurse a priority in her life. She has a loving family and a best friend by her side, but she can’t seem to get over her first love, Scott. Insecurities led her to break up with him years ago when he started climbing the ranks in professional hockey and, for eight years, Becca has avoided Scott when he returns home each summer. Can she overcome her fears and allow love back into her life? All she has to do is Just Say Yes to the one and only man she has ever loved.








Author Bio

Samantha Lind is a contemporary romance author. Having spent the first 27 years of her life in Alaska, she now calls Iowa home where she lives with her husband and two sons. She enjoys spending time with her family, traveling, reading, watching hockey, and listening to country music. 


Author Links

FACEBOOK PAGE / PROFILE / GROUP 

Release Blitz :: Can't Hardly Breathe :: Gena Showalter

   

From New York Times Bestselling author Gena Showalter, comes the next standalone romance in the Original Heartbreakers Series—CAN’T HARDLY BREATHE!

Grab your copy today!

 

CAN’T HARDLY BREATHE Synopsis:

New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter returns with an irresistible Original Heartbreakers story about a woman who’s never felt desired and the man who wants her more than air to breathe…

Bullied in high school, Dorothea Mathis’s past is full of memories she’d rather forget. But there’s one she can’t seem to shake—her longstanding crush on former Army Ranger Daniel Porter. Now that the sexy bad boy has started using her inn as his personal playground, she should kick him out...but his every heated glance makes her want to join him instead.

Daniel returned to Strawberry Valley, Oklahoma to care for his ailing father and burn off a little steam with no strings attached. Though he craves the curvy Dorothea night and day, he’s as marred by his past as she is by hers. The more he desires her, the more he fears losing her.

But every sizzling encounter leaves him desperate for more, and soon Daniel must make a choice: take a chance on love or walk away forever.

   

Get your copy of CAN’T HARDLY BREATHE here!

 

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Add it to your Goodreads Now!

  EXCERPT: Dorothea Mathis studied the last room on her cleanup schedule and groaned. The bed had been wrecked, the comforter and pillows tossed haphazardly on the floor. A pair of panties hung from a bedpost. The TV remote had been busted, the pieces scattered across the night­stand. Wet towels created a path to the bathroom door, and the trash can… Oh, gag me! The trash can contained used condoms. The place needed to be decontaminated by people wearing hazmat suits. Am I up to date on my vaccinations? With a sigh, Dorothea anchored earbuds in place, keyed up her iPod and donned a pair of latex gloves. One—germs. Gross! Two—she was protective of the green nail polish she’d applied only that morning. She selected color based on mood. Green = irritated. Somehow she’d known today would suck balls. Her mom must have checked in Mr. and Ms. Pigsty last night after Dorothea had gone to bed. Since she had a 4:00 a.m. wake-up call, she tended to hit the sack by 9:00 p.m. Granny hours, her sister, Holly, liked to tell her. Dorothea picked up the dirty towels, removed the panties from the post, emptied the trash, changed the sheets on the bed, straightened the pillows and covers, and tossed the remote remains, planning to bill the Pig­stys for a new one. Time was limited this morning. She’d promised to drive her mother into the city in— Crap! Less than an hour. She rushed through dusting and began vacuum­ing. As the machine swallowed dirt and debris, she tried not to envy her mother. Carol would soon be enjoying her fourth “singles retreat” of the year. Her fourth, but certainly not her last. She stayed at the Michaelson, a five-star hotel owned by the richest guy in Strawberry Valley, Dane Michaelson. Dane was married to a local girl Dorothea had gone to school with, and he allowed Carol to stay free of charge. No doubt about it, she took full advantage, attending speed-dating sessions, mixers and a plethora of themed parties. Her busy love life was just one of the many reasons she’d given the Strawberry Inn to Dorothea. The wheels on her cart suddenly squeaked, the sound louder than her music. Yanking out the earbuds, she spun. Surprise expelled the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping. This so wasn’t happening right now. It couldn’t be happening. Nightmares didn’t really come to life. Nor did pornos. Not that she watched those…very often. But dang it, this had to be one or the other. The sexiest man on the planet had just stridden into the room. He was shirtless, sweat glistening on his eight pack—and his name was Daniel Porter. The Daniel. The childhood crush she’d never forgot­ten. The first boy to break her already fragile heart. She gulped. What was he doing here? Wait. Like she really needed to ponder this one. Wel­come back, Mr. Pigsty. Her hands trembled as she yanked the vacuum cord from the electrical socket, the room descending into si­lence as the engine died. I think you’re perfect just the way you are. She smoothed her trembling hands down her “uni­form,” a pair of blue scrubs that could take a licking and keep on ticking. “Uh, hi. Hello.” Oh, wow. Could she be any lamer? Definitely in a nightmare, not a porno. “Welcome back.” He pulled the earbuds from his ears and gifted her with a small smile that failed to hide the lines of strain around his mouth. “Sorry about the mess. I planned to clean up before I checked out.” His gaze darted through­out the room, and he cringed. “I also plan to pay for the remote.” What kind of sexual acrobatics had placed the poor remote in harm’s path, anyway? Oh, my stars. A warm flush poured over Dorothea, threatening to overheat her. She almost fanned her cheeks for relief, barely stopped herself. Look away! She tried, she really did, but Daniel was just so freaking beautiful. He was even taller now, and stronger, with a rough, tough face. His cheekbones were sharp, and his nose boasted a small notch in the center. Been broken a time or two? Dark stubble dusted his an­gular jaw, though the shadows couldn’t disguise the fine tracery of scars on his left cheek. He was a modern-day warrior—literally. After high school, he’d joined the army, defending the country he loved. This wasn’t the first time Dorothea had seen him since his return to town a few months ago, but her body reacted as if she’d never seen any man, heating and tin­gling in all the naughtiest places. Act naturally. He’s just a customer. A customer who’d wrecked a room during his most recent stay, but whatever. He was waiting for her to re­spond to his offer. Let’s do this. “Yes, thank you. Payment would be ap­preciated.” She wound the vacuum cord around her arm, her motions clipped. “As for the room, I just need to tidy the bathroom, and I’ll be done.” With his back to her, he stuffed his toiletries into an overnight bag. “I’ll get out of your way, then.” During his senior year of high school, he hadn’t just slept with Madison Clark; he’d slept with a string of beautiful, popular girls, as if banging-and-bailing had finally been dubbed a national sport. Good thing Dorothea hadn’t pursued him. He would have taken all her firsts and discarded her like garbage. Instead, Jazz Connors had taken all her firsts and dis­carded her like garbage. Anger boiled her blood until bitterness swept in, leav­ing a glaze of frost. Fire and ice. This wasn’t the first time they’d battled it out, and this wouldn’t be the last. The biggest downside? They ensured the wounds inside her hollowed-out chest never really had a chance to heal. After graduation, she’d moved to the big bad city, enrolled in the University of Oklahoma’s meteorology program, met Jazz and gotten hitched, just as she’d al­ways dreamed…only to return home several years later with a divorce and no degree. A washed-up has-been by the age of twenty-four. Daniel, having served multiple tours of duty, had come back a hero. His life had meaning, hers didn’t. He and two of his friends had started a security company right here in Strawberry Valley. He took care of his ailing father, and in his free time he dated a plethora of city girls. Dorothea knew about the girls because he’d stayed at the inn every time a date had ended…successfully. Her flush returned full force as she considered the other five rooms he’d wrecked since his return…all the pleasure he’d been having…all the pleasure she wished she could experience. Not with him, of course. With someone she liked and respected. Someone who liked and respected her, too, despite the fact that she was still too round for society’s unhealthy standards, a lot too freckled and trapped in a dead-end job. Daniel Porter would never qualify. Dorothea found him attractive, yes, but to her, ap­pearance would never outshine personality. My man must be my equal. She had a lot of love to give. She’d even grown to like herself…kind of. Maybe. Fine, she was trying to like herself. Avoiding Daniel’s gaze, she said, “No, you stay. I’ll go.” Words her mother had drilled into her shouted in­side her head: the customer comes first. “I’ll finish your room later.” She rolled the vacuum toward her cart. “You live here, right?” he asked. “You own the inn?” “I… Yes.” Technically she lived in the attic. The more rooms she had available for guests, the more money she would make. At least in theory. Money was the number one reason she cleaned the pig­sties herself, rather than hiring a maid. She was saving her pennies to turn every plain, ordinary room into a themed paradise. Then Strawberry Valley residents would hap­pily pay to stay just for fun. Again, in theory. So far she’d decided on six themes. (1) Four seasons—the weather, not the hotel chain. (2) An enchanted forest. (3) A techno dance club. (4) The underwater world of Atlantis. (5) A royal palace. And (6) an inner sanctum, aka a superhero’s wet dream. Also up for consideration? A beach hut, an igloo, an insane asylum for her more daring patrons and a des­ert oasis. With twenty-three rooms in total, she needed other ideas fast. And more money. A lot more money. Maybe, when the transformations were completed, the feeling of accomplishment would finally chase away her anger and bitterness. Maybe she would feel alive. Happy. “If any part of your stay was subpar,” she said, “I will personally—” “No, everything has been great.” He looked over his shoulder and winked at her. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to get into trouble with the boss.” Every pulse point in her body leaped with excitement. He’d winked at her. Her! I think you’re perfect just the way you are. Red alert! She would not read more into his words than he’d intended. Not this time. He was a flirt, plain and simple. Always had been, apparently always would be. “Why would I get in trouble?” she asked. “For not finishing the room.” Oh. Right. “Well, as long as you plan to come back to the inn, I won’t fire myself. Not because I’m desperate to see you or anything,” she added in a rush. “I’m not.” Dang it! “I mean, I’m always glad to see you here. I mean, I just want your money.” Okay. Enough! He laughed, his amber eyes twinkling. Air caught in her throat and sizzled. He had the sexiest laugh on the planet. His entire face softened. He pulsed with new life; fresh and vibrant, he was the epitome of spring. Then he frowned, as if he couldn’t believe he’d found humor in, well, anything. Her brow furrowed with confusion. Why the doom and gloom? “In that case,” he said, his tone flat, “I think I’ll stay another night.” “Really?” She licked her lips. “What about your girl­friend?” He stiffened. “She isn’t my—” “No, don’t tell me. I’m sorry I asked. Your love life isn’t my business.” “I live in Strawberry Valley. My love life is every­one’s business.” His wry tone made her chuckle, and he stiffened all over again. Great. What had she done wrong this time? “I’ll be alone tonight,” he said, looking anywhere but at her. “Apparently I hover over my dad when I’m home, so he’s asked for another night off. But I swear to you, this room will be clean in the morning.” She snorted. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Doubting Dot­tie.” A pause, then, “Would you like a cup of coffee be­fore you go?” “Oh, uh, no, thank you.” While she no longer viewed Daniel through the wounded eyes of high school betrayal— he’d been a nice boy doing a nice thing for a vulnerable girl in desperate need of a white knight—she’d endured too much heartbreak over the years to risk getting to know him better and reigniting her crush. Look at the way she’d reacted to him already. He appeared…disappointed? No, of course not. A trick of the light, surely. “Well. See you around, Daniel.” “Yeah. See you around, Dottie.” He returned his at­tention to his toiletry bag, dismissing her. Irritation had her snapping, “My name is Dorothea.” Before he could respond, she stepped into the hall and closed the door with a soft snick. Hands trembling, she hooked the vacuum to the cart and rolled the cargo to the supply room…where her younger sister Holly was smoking a cigarette.

   

 

About Gena Showalter: Gena
 Showalter is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of the spellbinding Lords of the Underworld and Angels of the Dark series, two young adult series--Everlife and the White Rabbit Chronicles--and the highly addictive Original Heartbreakers series. In addition to being a National Reader's Choice and two time RITA nominee, her romance novels have appeared in Cosmopolitan (Red Hot Read) and Seventeen magazine, she's appeared on Nightline and been mentioned in Orange is the New Black--if you ask her about it, she'll talk for hours…hours! Her books have been translated in multiple languages. She’s hard at work on her next novel, a tale featuring an alpha male with a dark side and the strong woman who brings him to his knees. You can learn more about Gena, her menagerie of rescue dogs, and all her upcoming books at genashowalter.com or Facebook.com/genashowalterfans    

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

       

Excerpt :: The Time in Between :: Kristen Ashley

   

"She was the one then and nothing changed in the time in between."

 

✮✮✮A story of past decisions gone awry, secrets that change directions, and emotional second chances, this gripping love story is what happens when two paths again collide. The final standalone title in New York Times bestselling author Kristen Ashley’s Magdalene Series, THE TIME IN BETWEEN is a rich, heartfelt love story available now!✮✮✮


Explore THE TIME IN BETWEEN and grab your copy today!

 

About THE TIME IN BETWEEN (Magdalene Series #3):

After a painful loss, Cady Moreland is coming to Magdalene to start the next chapter of her life. A chapter that began eighteen years ago but had a heartbreaking ending. The time in between was full of family and friendship, but Cady could never get the man she fell in love with all those years ago out of her heart.

Coert Yeager has learned to live without the girl who entered his life right when she shouldn’t and exited delivering a crippling blow he never would have suspected. The time in between was full of failing to find what he was missing…and life-altering betrayal.

But when that girl shows up in Magdalene and buys the town’s beloved lighthouse, even if Coert wants to avoid her, he can’t. A fire in town sparks a different kind of flame that won’t be ignored.

As Cady and Coert question the actions of the two young adults they once were thrown into earth-shattering circumstances, can they learn from what came in between and find each other again?


Grab your copy of THE TIME IN BETWEEN today!

 

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay


Add to your Goodreads

 

5% of the proceeds from the first week of sales of THE TIME IN BETWEEN release will be given to HALO Animal Rescue in Phoenix, a no-kill shelter. HALO stands for “helping animals live on” and is a shelter started by a mother/daughter team of committed animal advocates who have done a huge duty for animals in this area, and continue to do so with unwavering love, support and energy.For more information on HALO or to donate to the work they do, go to www.halorescue.org.

     

And don’t miss the first titles in the Magdalene Series!

THE WILL SOARING

  EXCERPT: Present day… I took in the mess of the large, circular room we were in and at first saw nothing but the mess—decaying furniture, a soot-covered stone fireplace, a kitchen that might have been put in in the forties but had not only not been touched the last nine years, it perhaps had not been touched the last nineteen (or more). Then I saw more. The extraordinarily carved railing to the sweeping wood staircase that ran the curved side of the house. The red brick walls. The plank wood floors. “Once upon a time, long ago,” the realtor was suddenly talking wistfully, “someone loved this place. Put that love into building it. Put that love into keeping it. Nine years and more when no one really gave a whit, and still you can see it once had a lot of love.” Oh yes. You could see that. “It’s got a basement, more like a big crawl space,” the agent declared, surprising me with his quick change in tone back to businesslike and informative. “The furnace is down there. You can get down there through a door in the floor. The furnace was put in a while back, and full disclosure, though an inspection will catch it, it probably needs to be replaced.” Through his words I stared at the fireplace, which scoured would be magnificent, and I noticed it didn’t have a chimney as such, but the smoke probably went out a vent in the wall. “This floor has a powder room under the stairs,” the realtor kept on. “You can look at it if you want, but if you wanna save yourself that, I’ll just tell you straight, it needs to be gutted.” I decided to take his word for it and told him that. He looked relieved when I did before he stated, “Place has a garage, two car. Not in good condition, but think you saw that. Still, it’s close to the house and there’s a covered walkway to that door over there.” He pointed at a door that was across from the door we’d walked in. “Means you might feel a chill but you won’t get wet, unless it’s raining sideways, which happens.” With a breeze that plastered my jacket to me on a sunny, early spring day, I did not doubt that. “Garage has a loft space above it, which could be renovated as a studio rental if you’ve a mind to do that sort of thing. As for the property itself, it also has a building where the generators are stowed,” the realtor carried on. “Hook up for a washer and dryer and good space in there. Lots of it for storage. Which is good because there’s not a lot of storage in here for tools and Christmas decorations and whatnot.” I glanced around seeing he was right. There wasn’t even enough cabinetry to house the things a decent cook would need in her kitchen. Though there was room for them. In fact, if you fought back the gloom, there was quite a bit of room. “And there’s a place outside, could call it a studio, could call it a mother-in-law house,” he shared. “Whatever, it’s got goodly space, two bedrooms, big kitchen. Could be renovated to be a guest house. Or like I said, a studio if you’re artsy. Or you could rent it out like a B and B. I’ll show you all of that after we have a look at the lighthouse.” “Thanks,” I replied. “Now, since I mentioned full disclosure, you have to know it all,” the realtor continued. Slowly, my eyes went to him. When they did, he launched in. “Like I said, it’s automated. And like I said, you won’t really have to concern yourself with the functionality of that unless the electricity goes out, but then the generators automatically kick in. There are two. But you’ll need to keep fuel on hand to keep them going in case a blackout lasts awhile. And just to say, this is coastal Maine. We get weather. Blackouts can last awhile.” When I nodded to share I took that in, he kept going. “And if you’re, say, away on vacation, you need to make sure someone is playing backup in such a case.” “Okay,” I replied when he stopped talking, thinking this probably wasn’t a good thing since I knew no one in Maine (or not anyone who wanted to know me) and thus couldn’t call on anyone to do something like that. I also didn’t hold high hopes I’d make friends and win people. I hadn’t had a lot of success in that in my life. And last, although Patrick believed it completely, I held no hope that the reason I was out there was going to come to fruition. That being me having a happy ending. That being what Patrick thought would be my happy ending. Which might mean I’d have someone, a certain someone, or actually two (at least), even though I knew I never would.        
   
    About Kristen Ashley: Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA and nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorize and she hadn't taken her first breath!). Her mother said they took Kristen away, put her Mom back in her room, her mother looked out the window, and Gary was on fire (Dr. King had been assassinated four days before). Kristen's Mom remembered thinking it was the end of the world. Quite the dramatic beginning. Nothing's changed. Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana and has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus, she's blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her family was (is) loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. They all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched). Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up. And as she keeps growing, it keeps getting better.
   

Release Blitz + Excerpt :: Sacked in Seattle :: Jami Davenport

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He's loved Tiff since high school--but tragedy has blockaded her heart.
Tyee University football player Riley Black has adored Tiff since high school, but she's never felt the same way. As Riley enters his senior year of college, he's finally moving on and enjoying the perks of being a star athlete. Until one glimpse of Tiff unearths all those old feelings of longing and desire, not to mention the trauma of their shared past.
Tiffani Vernon has been running from her demons for seven years. When she's forced to return to Seattle for financial reasons and attend the same college as Riley, she's confronted with the traumatic event which has shaped her future and scarred her memories of Riley. Tiff struggles to avoid her secret high school crush, but he's not having any of it. He's pursuing her with a relentless determination to prove once and for all, they were meant to be together.
Can love finally heal their wounds or will they succumb to the pain and forever wonder what could have been?

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EXCERPT:
Chapter 1—Running
* Riley *
Life-changing moments can be as obvious as a guy holding a gun to your forehead or as subtle as glimpsing a face in a crowd.
That gun and that face haunted my nights and often my days.
I hadn’t laid eyes on Tiffani Vernon since the night of our high school graduation over three years ago. She couldn’t leave Seattle fast enough, while I’d never considered going anywhere else. Seattle was the only real home I’d ever known, and I wanted to stay here and make things better. Face my fears head on. You know, crap like that.
Tiff ran from her fears, and our last night together had been epic, unforgettable, and scary as shit. She sped out of town and never looked back—especially not at me.
I knew why. It wasn’t personal, but that didn’t make me feel any better.
I reminded her of that horrible, awful day when our lives hung in the balance, the world shifted in a matter of minutes, and nothing would ever be the same again.
And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Except move on.
And I had.
Or I thought I had, until I saw her standing across that proverbial crowded room. Our eyes met. Her brown ones to my blue ones. Recognition flashed in her eyes, then panic. Her mouth opened as if she were going to say something. Her expression went soft with regret. Shaking her head, she turned and ran, weaving through the crowd faster than a running back angling for the end zone. Her little pink skirt swished back and forth, calling attention to her fine ass and shapely legs. She was so smoking hot, heads swiveled as she passed.
Pain stabbed deep in my gut. Memories flooded back and slammed me to the turf, leaving me stuck to the beer-soaked floor. Graduation night. Her skin glowed in the moonlight as she gave herself to me, body and soul. I lost myself inside her, certain we’d be together forever. She left town the next morning, and I never saw her again.
Squelching that memory, I stood alone in a crowd of people, hearing nothing, sensing nothing, seeing nothing but the place where she’d stood a second ago. People elbowed me in their haste to get to the keg of beer I was blocking.
I shook my head, attempting to clear it.
She couldn’t be here.
She should be at USC starting her senior year, just as I was starting mine at the Ty, what us locals call Tyee University on Lake Union in Seattle.
She’d traded the rain and mud for sun and sand, and she’d traded me for surfer dudes and Hollywood wannabes.
But now she was back.
My feet refused to follow my orders. All I could do was gape open-mouthed like some creep with a stalker crush. There’d been other times I’d sworn I’d seen her, only to race after her and embarrass the hell out of myself when I found out the poor girl I’d dogged wasn’t Tiffani.
But we’d locked gazes this time, and there wasn’t any doubt in my mind. She was here. I tried to swallow, clear my throat, gulp in some oxygen. I swear my organs were either shutting down or going into overload. My heart slammed in my chest as if building to detonation, and my head pounded to the beat of the music in the room.
Oblivious to my disinterest, the blonde who’d been hustling me all night leaned in closer and gripped my arm. She slipped her tongue in my ear while her hand migrated to my crotch. I gave her a gentle shove, not giving one shit how rude my behavior was, even though I usually prided myself on being a nice guy.
“Later,” I told her and pushed through the throng of frat-house party-goers.
Almost frantic, I shoved my way to where I’d last seen her and caught a flash of blonde hair as she slipped out the door. I dashed after her down the sidewalk into the street and glanced left and right. She was gone, vanished into thin air as if she’d never existed. I waited five, then ten minutes, she never reappeared.
With a sigh, I trudged back to the party, ignoring the curious stares of the guys. I sank onto the couch in the living room, next to a couple of teammates, and faked interest in a football game on TV. My heart thudded wildly, and my hand shook as I lifted a pizza slice to my lips.
My eyes met the concerned blue gaze of my best friend, Gage Harmon, the team quarterback, campus man slut, and proud of both titles. He was chewing slowly and staring at me as if he expected me to strip naked and dance on the table while stone-cold sober.
“You okay, Ry man?”
“Yeah, fine. Thought I saw someone. I was wrong.”
One brow crept upward, disappearing under his messy blond hair. “Female?”
I nodded, refusing to meet his gaze on the off-chance he’d see the pathetic truth and peg me for the idiot I was. What kind of loser pines after a girl this long when he has the world at his feet?
This loser.
Tiff was the only girl I’d ever truly loved.
And I’d never stopped loving her, as fucked up as that was.
* Tiff *
Running into Riley Black was inevitable. The Tyee campus was big, but obviously not big enough. Even so, I hadn’t expected to see him during my first week of classes. I’d carefully avoided the areas where he might be hanging out, such as Greek Row, and opted for an off-campus apartment. I planned my classes to avoid being near the football field and gym in the afternoons when he’d most likely be practicing. I timed everything with careful attention to detail and avoidance. Lot of good that did me.
Coming to this party had been a lapse in judgment. I should’ve known he’d be here. Maybe I secretly hoped to run into him, just to torture myself. Maybe I was all kinds of screwed up.
Okay, well, that’s stating the obvious. Ask my family. Ask my counselor. Ask my horse. They’d all agree. I, Tiffani Grace Vernon, was one fucked-up girl, and years of therapy had barely put a dent in my tormented past. Through no fault of his own, Riley brought back every traumatic memory of that fateful day when my charmed life became a living nightmare. He was a victim as much as I was.
Now, here we were. At the same frat party. I shouldn’t have come.
Our eyes met, and recognition instantly lit up his gaze. Those same cobalt blue eyes had studied me intently from across the room in our high school biology class. They’d watched me ride my horse in endless circles at the arena near his aunt’s house. Those same eyes had opened wide in horror as my ex-boyfriend, also his teammate, pointed a gun at each of us, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The loud bang had deafened me, and the smell of iron had filled my nostrils, followed by the wrenching pain of being slammed to the ground.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
Seeing him brought it all back as if it had happened six minutes ago instead of almost seven years.
Maybe seeing me did the same for him, too? He’d gaped at me like he’d seen a ghost. Momentarily frozen in shock, his mouth opened and closed as if he were trying to say something but couldn’t. Not that I would have heard him over the sea of drunken partygoers and the roar in my ears.
My brain clawed at the last shred of sanity as wave after wave of dizziness sucked me deeper into a swirling abyss of darkness. My lungs begged for oxygen until I had to be blue in the face. My legs wobbled, and I stuck out a hand to steady myself. Swaying like a drunken sailor, I accidentally buried my fingers in some sorority girl’s cleavage. She raised her hand to take a swing at me but was too wasted to come close.
“You stupid, perverted bitch.”
Whatever. She was the least of my worries.
The music was so loud, no one paid attention to us. I wasn’t a fighter, and the time had come to get my ass out of here, not so much to run from her—I could handle her—but to get away from him and the demons nipping at my heels
I abandoned my beer on a windowsill and shoved my way through the crowd, desperate to exit as quickly as possible. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Riley dodging people in the crowd with deft footwork that would do any running back proud. Only he wasn’t a running back. He was a tight end. The starting tight end for Tyee University. A big man on campus with an NHL star uncle.
And I was—
Nobody.
And I planned on keeping it that way. I didn’t have any interest in being in the spotlight or even in a flashlight.
It’d been a mistake to enroll here, but I hadn’t had a choice. My parents’ divorce had been costly, leaving no money for out-of-state tuition. So here was I was. Back in the area I both loved and despised among the best of memories drowned out by the worst of tragedies with the one person who played a part in both.
I ran out the door and down the front steps, knowing he was only seconds behind. Glancing around desperately, I dived into some bushes in front of the apartment building next to the frat house and huddled in the darkness.
I waited what seemed like hours.
Finally, I peeked through the branches of the bush. Riley stood there, several feet away, gazing down the street with such profound sadness, you’d think he’d lost his best friend. His big hands hung loosely at his sides. He still had that one lock of dark hard that refused to stay in place. He looked the same, but different. A familiar face, yet a stranger.
Shaking his head, Riley trudged back inside, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging.
I almost ran after him—almost—but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t invite the one person back into my life who could destroy every bit of progress I’d made since high school. Even worse, I couldn’t drag him down with me.
I waited long after he’d gone inside before creeping along the side of the building, and around the corner. I ran the several blocks home and collapsed on my bed. Only then did the wrenching sobs shake my body and wring every bit of emotion from my soul until nothing was left but bone-deep weariness.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
USA Today Bestselling Author Jami Davenport writes sexy contemporary, sports, and new adult romances, including her two new indie endeavors: the Game On in Seattle series and the Men of Tyee series. Jami lives on a small farm near Puget Sound with her Green Beret-turned-plumber husband, a Newfoundland dog with a tennis-ball fetish, and a prince disguised as an orange tabby cat. She works in computer support in her day job and juggles too many balls, but she wouldn't have it any other way.
Connect with Jami!
Subscribe to her newsletter to receive a free novel and be notified of new releases, special sales, and contests: http://eepurl.com/LpfaL
Twitter Address: @jamidavenport


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