29 June 2016

Cover ReReveal:: No More Wasted Time by Beverly Preston

29 June
Full Jacket/Cover
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See where it all began!
Laugh, cry and fall in love in Book One of the Mathews Family Series by Beverly Preston!

NEW COVER & NOW AVAILABLE ON ALL RETAILERS.



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Blurb

Tom Clemmins is an A-list actor whose life revolves around work and an onslaught of women. Traveling to Bora Bora, Tom has a few ideas of how he’ll enjoy his vacation, but love isn’t one of them.

Tess Mathews is a grieving widow who escapes to Bora Bora to lay her husband ashes to rest. What she doesn’t expect is a new beginning.
When one shared boat ride turns into a week full of romance and desire, Tess is torn between tremendous guilt and undeniable lust. Utterly smitten with a woman for the first time in his life, Tom casts his commitment phobia aside and whisks Tess off to Malibu.
Can a passionate rendezvous in paradise survive the searing Hollywood spotlight, or was their chance meeting just a twist of fate?
Your Destination Romance Itinerary: Bora Bora, Greece, Italy


Series Reading Order

No More Wasted Time (bk 1)


Shayla’s Story (bk 2)



The Perfect Someday (bk 3)


Surviving Broken (bk 4)

About the Author:
Beverly Preston
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#1 Bestselling Author, Beverly Preston has been a stay at home mom for 21 years, although she prefers the title Domestic Engineer. Along the way, Beverly worked side by side with her husband Don, the love of her life, designing, building and selling custom homes. As her children begin to venture out on their own, she’s left to shed a tear—for a minute—wonder what’s next in life, and embrace the feeling of empowerment that surely must’ve been wrapped in a present she received on her fortieth birthday.

If Beverly isn’t at home riding her spin bike, you’ll find her spinning richly emotional and sinfully sexy romance stories.

Cover Reveal:: Hard Luck by Liv Morris

29 June

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From USA Today Bestselling author Liv Morris comes a sexy standalone romcom where cocky chases sassy around the bases.

Hard Luck releases on July 10th!  
Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/28OpxXf


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Blurb
Meet Brady Luck...

Slugger. Hot shot. MVP.
I’ve been called it all.
I was the real deal, baby.
The diamond was my battlefield.
Women were the victory celebration.
My "Lucky" streak was a given.
On and off the field.

Then I slept with the wrong woman,
And she cursed me.
Literally.
Turned my game upside-down,
In the ballpark...and bedroom.
Now my team is paying the price.

My last hope is Cali Jones,
A smart and sexy physician assistant.
Her Midas touch may fix my swing,
Repair my equipment.
But will it be enough to cure my hard luck?

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Excerpt
“Would it scare you if I said I was kidnapping you?” I grip the door of the cab and glanced up at the driver. He has an amused smile on his face. I'm sure he knows who shares the backseat with me. Brady is the golden boy of this city. He owns the title with every home run he hits, both on and off the baseball field. Plus, his good looks are hard to forget. God knows I’ve tried.
Two weeks ago, if I had this same conversation with Brady, I would've been demanding him to take me back to his lair for a lap or two around the bases, but I met him while wearing scrubs and examining his fine body with latex-gloved hands. I can’t remove my professional hat no matter how bad he makes me want to remove my clothes.
“You owe me an explanation,” I say, choosing to ignore the kidnap comment altogether. It plays straight into a dirty fantasy of being at his mercy and the last thing I need is more fantasies.
“I’m taking you to my coach’s apartment a few blocks from here,” he replies, his tone nonchalant, like kidnapping a woman is normal.
“Does he need medical help too?” I ask, my confusion clear in my tone. Why would he take me to his coach’s place? 
“Are you kidding?” Brady appears stunned by my question. I answer him with a shake of my head. “He wants to talk to you about me.”
“Your coach knows me? What’s really going on here? You’ve shown up everywhere I’ve been like you’re stalking me.” Brady shifts his eyes away from me and lowers his head. “Wait! You have been, haven’t you?” I demand.
“Maybe. But I have a very good reason.” He looks up with his crystal blue eyes. They twinkle at me even through the dim streetlights, as I lose myself within them.
I have stupid girl thoughts that he’s fallen madly in love with me during our brief encounters, especially the one in the exam room. I glance down at his crotch in memory and swallow at the thought of all those inches, even if he would be next to impossible to fit into my mouth.
“I’m waiting for a good answer.” I lock my eyes on his perfect face with lips I want to kiss. Why does he have to be so hot?
“It’s complicated,” he says while running his long fingers through his glorious, thick hair.
How many times have I dreamt of having his head between my legs since he joined the team? I’ve lost count. I close my eyes. I am in deep shit here.
“It’s complicated on my end, too,” I reply back to his non-answer response, which frustrates the hell out of me. Sane people don’t kidnap people without an explanation. Then again sane people don’t kidnap people at all. Maybe the pressure of bringing home a trophy to Chicago’s rabid fans made him snap. “You’re my patient and I can’t cross the personal line with you.” No matter how hard I want to.
“I’ve severed all ties with your office. I’m no longer a patient at your practice.”
“Right? You’re cured now.” I peek down at the general area where his former issue was and then back up at his eyes.
“Let’s say I know who can cure my problem.”
“Who?” My voice is as quiet as a whisper, but from the intense look in his eyes, I know he heard me. I brace myself for his answer.
“You.”
“Well, shit!”



About the Author:
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USA Today bestselling author, Liv Morris, was raised in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. She now resides on the rock known as St. Croix, USVI with her first and hopefully last husband. After relocating twelve times during his corporate career, she qualifies as a professional mover. Learning to bloom where she's planted, Liv brings her moving and life experience to her writing.
 

Re Read:: Play by Kylie Scott

29 June
Play is Mal's story, he is the 'funny, not too serious' of the group. He saved Eve from the media and David's lawyers in the first book and when he did that he had my vote for a good guy. He likes to save others and help them through his jokester ways. In this book, we also see what is troubling him and how serious he can be when he wants to be.


He meets Anne at a party at David's. He listens to her phone call and then criticizes her for allowing others to walk all over her. Anne at first really doesn't know how to take him, he sounds like he's joking but he ends up moving in and helping her when she is in a pinch.


These two are very different people but they mesh well. Anne keeps Mal balanced. He is fine until his feelings turn into more than what I think he was going for when pretending to have a girlfriend for his family's sake.


Anne's feelings are hurt terribly when Mal doesn't think and walks away with another woman right in front of everyone. Mal really has to dig himself out of a hole and he does it well.


They become the parents of a pup and immediately move into a building they can raise their pup safely.










Kylie Scott returns with the highly anticipated follow-up to international bestseller Lick.
Mal Ericson, drummer for the world famous rock band Stage Dive, needs to clean up his image fast-at least for a little while. Having a good girl on his arm should do the job just fine. Mal doesn't plan on this temporary fix becoming permanent, but he didn't count on finding the one right girl. 
Anne Rollins never thought she'd ever meet the rock god who plastered her teenage bedroom walls-especially not under these circumstances. Anne has money problems. Big ones. But being paid to play the pretend girlfriend to a wild life-of-the-party drummer couldn't end well. No matter how hot he is. Or could it?

Cover Reveal:: Balance by Lucia Franco

29 June



Cover Design by: 

Romantic Book Affairs


Blurb


Adrianna Rossi is no stranger to the rigorous demands required of her body. Years of pain and determination make her one of the best. Olympic glory is the ultimate goal, and she'll do anything to achieve it. Even if that means leaving home to attend World Cup Academy of Gymnastics, a training center that serves one purpose—producing champions. 

Perfection, precision, and dedication are required of his athletes. When two time Olympian Konstantin Kournakova is persuaded into training the young hopeful, he immediately regrets it. She doesn't come close to his high standards. As the relentless pursuit of her dream keeps her striving, a passion is ignited within him.

Kova's power and domination, coupled with Adrianna's fierce tenacity, reveal there is more for her body to learn. Every interaction can be misconstrued, but there’s no mistaking the darkening of his gaze, the lingering of his touch, or the illicit image of his bare skin pressed against hers. Integrity is on the line. One toe off the beam and their forbidden desires could ruin everything they’ve worked for, throwing it all off balance. 


WARNING: This novel contains explicit content.


Expected Release: 


To Be Announced









Special iBooks Pre-Order 




About Lucia Franco


A competitive athlete for over ten years, Lucia Franco currently resides in sunny South Florida with her husband and two boys. Paranormal romance was her first love, but she has a soft spot in her heart for small-town and reunion romance stories.

When Lucia is not hard at work on her next novel, you can find her relaxing with her toes in the sand at a nearby beach.

Find out more about Lucia at authorluciafranco.com. Make sure to join her newsletter to receive exclusive updates and more!

Instagram: lucia_franco_

Twitter: @lucia_franco_



Amazon page:  http://amzn.to/28YmMWy

Excerpt Reveal:: Stealing Home by Nicole Williams

29 June

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Coming July 10th

Pre-order exclusively on iBooks HERE

Add to your Goodreads shelf now.

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Being the only woman working for a professional baseball team isn’t easy. As the San Diego Shock’s newest athletic trainer, Allie knows all about long hours, endless travel, and warding off players’ advances. Given she’s already the subject of a handful of rumors about how “lucky” she was to have earned such a coveted position, she can’t so much as flutter an eyelash a player’s way if she wants to be taken seriously.

But number eleven is doing more than fluttering eyelashes Allie’s way. Far more. Luke Archer is at the top of his game and doesn’t let the fear of striking out keep him from swinging. This is a motto he applies both on and off the field, but Allie appears immune, seeming to view Luke as nothing more than caution tape on legs.

He’s a player, and in Allie’s experience, they’re all the same. She won’t risk her job or her heart to another one, no matter how different this one claims to be. But as Allie gets to know him, she discovers the number eleven the public thinks they know is very different from the real Luke Archer. He seems too good to be true.

And maybe he is.

Allie will have to confront the stories attached to a player of Luke Archer’s stature and decide who she’ll put her faith in—The man she’s falling for? Or the rumors?

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CHAPTER ONE
Working for a professional baseball team was going to be the end of my love life. The past two years confirmed that theory, as had the last text I’d received from my latest ex-boyfriend.
           Half of the year on the road added to another half of the year working grueling hours that rivaled a doctor’s first year of residency equaled a whole lot of no free time to fill with a social agenda. Since being hired on by the San Diego Shock this season and the San Francisco Kings the year before that, the longest relationship I’d maintained spanned eight weeks.
           This last one had barely cleared the four-week mark.
My lifestyle was costly, but it was worth it. Baseball was in my blood, and sports medicine was in my heart.
           I’d grown up in a small Midwest town where people still got together for potlucks and everyone from the town hermit to the mayor attended a funeral. Where the only place you were expected to be after church on a Sunday was stretched out on the bleachers around the baseball field. It didn’t matter if it was a T-ball game or the high school championships—the bleachers were always packed.
Baseball was a religion where I grew up—it was stitched into the fibers of my life—so it was no surprise when I ended up with a baseball player. No, the surprise came after I’d followed him to college and found him in bed with someone else.
           It had taken the wind right out of me, along with my tendency to trust first and doubt after. Ben had been sleeping around for a while by the time I found out—friends had known and said nothing—and that was the day I made a promise to myself to never let another guy hurt me as he had, to never be made a fool of like that.
After changing schools mid-year, I started studying sports medicine and never looked back. Or at least not often. I only looked back when I found myself feeling something similar to what I’d felt for Ben. The relationship never lasted long after that.
           As evidenced by my newest failed relationship.
           “Whose ass do I need to kick, Doc?”
           Dropping my phone into my lap, I looked across the aisle to see who was sliding into the row across from me.
Luke Archer.
Known to fans as the best hitter on the Shock, if not in all of pro baseball. Known to women for his good looks and up-to-no-good smile. Known to Cosmo magazine as being voted the Finest Ass in professional baseball. And known by the athletic training staff as a well-rounded pain in our asses.
           Not because he thought he knew better or was yet another prima donna—which the sport had no shortage of—but because he held to the old-school code of taking care of an injury by “walking it off.” If that didn’t work, then we could usually convince him to pop one or two pain relievers after the game, and sometimes, if he was feeling especially accommodating, he’d accept a bag of ice.
           Luke Archer was the real man of steel, and no one to date had managed to convince him he was also made of those injury-prone materials known as flesh and blood.
           “Doc?” Archer’s voice broke through my haze of thoughts. “Just give me his name and I’ll take care of it.”
The rest of the team and staff were shuffling down the aisle between us to find their seats on the team jet, but his stare aimed my way felt unyielding.
           “What makes you think anyone’s ass deserves a kicking?” I asked.
I returned a high-five as Reynolds passed by. He’d twisted his ankle in the game earlier today, and I’d been the first on the field to get him taken care of. I’d been the last one out of the locker room to finish getting him taken care of too. As a noob, I had to work twice as hard. As a woman, I had to work ten times as hard.
           “I have three younger sisters. I have more experience than most with guys deserving ass kickings.”
           The last of the guys wandered by us. Without the break of their bodies coming between us, Archer’s stare became too intense. His eyes seemed capable of pinning me to the back of the seat.
           The head athletic trainer, Dax Shepherd, attended to the “money” players—the ones like Archer, who brought fans to the stadium and were a large part of the Shock’s impressive win-to-loss ratio. Up until this very moment, I didn’t know Luke Archer was aware of my existence on this team or the planet.
           “You really have three younger sisters?” I asked.
Unlike most of the female populace, I didn’t know every last fact about Luke Archer. The news about his parents had made headlines a few years back, and that was all I knew about his personal life.
           “I really do. And I talk to or text all of them every day.”
           “Plus you kick asses for them.”
           Archer’s hazel eyes lightened. “Plus that.” He twisted in his seat so he was almost facing me, his eyes dropping to the phone in my lap. “So? No one messes with my sisters. And no one messes with my team.”
           My forehead creased. “I’m not one of your teammates.”
           “You’re a part of my team. Just because you don’t play the field or swing a bat doesn’t mean you’re not. You keep us healthy and strong out there.” When I cocked an eyebrow, he added, “And when we get injured, you make sure we get fixed up quickly so we can get back to doing what we love. You’re every bit as vital to this team as . . .” He glanced up and down the aisle like he was looking for someone to fill in the blank with.
           “As Luke Archer?” I completed for him.
           His answer to that was a lifting of his eyes. “I’m one man who can swing one bat.”
           “One bat really, really hard. And very, very exactly,” I interjected.
           He continued, “You make sure twenty-five men can keep swinging their own bats.”
           “Well, there’s me, the two other athletic trainers, the physical therapist, the personal trainers, and the actual doctor who help out with that too. I can’t take all of the credit.”
           “Come on. You work twice as hard as any of them, so you should at least take most of the credit.” When his phone started chiming in his slacks’ pocket, he pulled it out, turned it off, and hid it back in his pocket.
           “And since the closest Shepherd and Coach Beckett have let me get to you is handing out a water bottle, how would you know that?”
           He pointed at his eyes. “I’ve got two of these and use them for observation on occasion.”
           “When they’re not searching for your next conquest?” I gave an internal groan the moment after I’d voiced something that should have stayed unsaid.
           My relationships with the players had always been professional and rarely, if ever, delved into the realm of personal information. If it didn’t have to do with preventing or tending to injuries, I didn’t bring it up.
           Until now. When I’d just suggested that Luke Archer had a reputation in every city the Shock had visited, every hotel they’d stayed in. Perfect way for my first real conversation with the star player of the team, and the whole of professional baseball, to go.
           Archer stayed quiet, studying me with that tipped smile he was famous for.
           “You know my opinion on rumors?” he said a minute later.
           I was capable of nothing more than shaking my head.
           “That they’re started by haters. Spread by fools. And accepted by idiots.”
           My head tipped. “Are you calling me an idiot?”
           His eyes flashed. “Are you calling me a manwhore?”
           I studied him lounging in his seat with his legs kicked out in front of him, his wide chest stretching beneath his suit jacket, his long arms resting on the armrests.. His body was enough to weaken the resolve of someone as jaded to player players as I was, but his face didn’t play second-string.
           Brown hair lightened by the sun, smooth skin darkened by it, a strong jaw, and hazel eyes that trended more toward the green end of the spectrum; Luke Archer was quite possibly the most attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on. According to Sports Anonymous’s random poll of five thousand women, he was the best-looking guy in professional sports today. The other few billion women on the planet would have agreed with that title, I assumed.
           “Do you always take so long to answer a question?” Archer motioned at me, waiting.
           “No,” I said, recalling the last question he’d asked me. Snap out of it. “I don’t think that you’re a  . . . manwhore,” I whispered the last part.
I’d had enough experience with the rumor mill to be a sympathetic party to the target of so many. Being one of the first and only female athletic trainers in professional sports had opened me up to a hundred rumors when I’d been hired. All versions of them had to do with me fucking my way into the position.
           “Good.” Archer nodded, seeming satisfied. “Because you certainly don’t seem like an idiot.”
           “Thanks?”
           He nodded again. “Welcome.”
           That was when the pilot’s voice echoed through the team jet, running through his usual spiel. We were leaving Tampa and heading up to Chicago. Now that the season was in full swing, I lost track of the cities we were leaving and the ones we were heading toward. All of my attention was focused on the players and getting them through the season as injury-free as possible.
           “I’m still waiting for that name, Doc.” Archer clicked his seat belt into place when one of the attendants stopped beside him, looking ready to strap it into place for him.
           When she saw mine unfastened, all I got was a lifted brow and a pointed finger before she moved on to the next aisle.
           “Oh, it’s okay. He’s not worth it.” I lifted my phone toward him before dropping it in the duffel bag I kept on hand at all times. Bandages, tape, painkillers, and a small cooler of ice packs were always at the ready whenever I was with the team. “Any guy who breaks up with someone via text message isn’t worth much.”
           “Really? Over text?” Archer’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the reason the ass-kicking was invented. For those types of guys.”
           I shrugged as the plane started to taxi down the runway, the interior lights dimming. “We haven’t even been together a month. Truthfully, it lasted longer than I thought it would. This kind of lifestyle”—I twirled my finger around the airplane—“makes it difficult to sustain a long-term relationship.”
           “That’s why I’m not a fan of them.”
           “Long-term relationships?”
           Any kind of relationship,” he said.
           I nodded my understanding. The players had it worse than the team staff. At least in terms of having to question if a person was into them for who they were or because of their job, and the fame and money that came with it.
           “I’m either practicing for a game, playing a game, recovering from a game, or fueling up and resting for a game. There’s not time for much else,” he said.
           Leaning into my armrest, I realized how strange it was to be having such an easy conversation with Luke Archer. It felt natural, not forced. Most of the players would take a moment to chat with me about something game-related, but I was still the new kid on the block. I felt like I had to pass some test before they’d accept me as a member of the team.
           Archer didn’t seem to be of the same mind though.
           “Yeah, I know. It’s like you need to find someone who can just travel with you wherever you go, right?” I said, thinking how much easier it would to be in a relationship with someone I got to see on a daily basis without two computer screens.
           “Exactly. Someone who understands the lifestyle. Appreciates the sacrifices you have to make.”
My head fell back into the headrest from the inertia of takeoff, but I could still feel Archer’s eyes on me. “Someone who understands that the job comes first. Someone who doesn’t get insecure or jealous or bent out of shape that they get the few precious minutes in between the job.”
           When my head turned toward him again, I found Luke Archer staring at me with a kind of intensity I hadn’t seen aimed my way in a long time. My breath caught, and even though the strength of his stare threatened to overwhelm me, I held his gaze.
           “Someone who understands the game. The commitment. The time. The sacrifice. Someone who’s as committed to it as you are.” One corner of his mouth twitched, carving a dimple into his cheek. “It’s not like you could ever expect to find a person like that sitting in the row across the aisle from you, right?”
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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.
Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.



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