tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41040528895068554092024-03-05T18:55:38.952-05:00Jenn's Book ObsessionReading and Reviewing one journey at a timeAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06790274461509621828noreply@blogger.comBlogger1332125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-60171842110098105192019-08-01T08:00:00.000-04:002019-08-02T19:59:52.361-04:00Release Blitz w/ Excerpt - MASON'S RUN by Mellanie Rourke<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Mason's Run RDB Banner" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2707" height="334" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/07/masons-run-rdb-banner.jpg" width="640" />
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<b>Mason’s Run</b></div>
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<b>A Twin Peeks Bookstore Romance</b></div>
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<b>Mellanie Rourke</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 08.01.19</b></div>
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<b>BLURB</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Mason:</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I've escaped a past that would have destroyed most men: used, abused and sold for sex from a young age by those who should have protected me, an unexpected moment of compassion from a stranger gives me a chance at a new life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Though I've started over, my scars run deep; I'm an LGBTQ fantasy graphic novel writer and artist with a huge following, but I'm terrified of the world. When I discover that the stranger who saved me from a life of abuse is the same man who has finally awakened my body to desire, I realize the truth: Can I ever really be free if I'm still afraid of my past and the people who shattered me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lee:</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Serving as a medic in the Middle East, I felt the life of my fiancée slip away under my hands and was powerless to stop it. Discharged with physical and emotional wounds I can't heal, I go home to my crazy, geeky family and try to learn to live with the damage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Pain and grief lead me to some acts I'm not proud of, including paying strangers for sex. I'm determined to keep it strictly business, no emotions involved, but when I discover that Mason Malone isn't a high-end escort, but a battered young man forced into a life of pain and degradation, I'm frozen in indecision. Then the man with the raven curls and blue-gold eyes whispers ""Please..."" and the barriers I built around my heart shatter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Years later, fate brings us back together. He has a new name and career, but I could never forget those eyes. Mason, unfortunately, doesn't recognize me. Every day I find myself more and more drawn to him, but I'm terrified of what will happen when our secrets are discovered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">As both of our pasts threaten our future, can we find a path to redemption? Can love and forgiveness overcome soul-shattering pain? Or will the discovery of our shared past create a chasm too wide to bridge?</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Warning: PTSD, major anxiety issues, and sexual abuse, including rape, the aftermath of child molestation, and human trafficking. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Read today! </span></i><br />
<i><a href="https://amzn.to/31gzTZU">https://amzn.to/31gzTZU</a></i></div>
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<b>EXCERPT</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, who knew? All it took was a little murder to get him back,” I said, digging my fingers into my head, trying to get rid of the headache that was growing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It wasn’t murder, Lee,” Bishop insisted, his voice brooking no argument. “And you know it. You were saving that him. That’s what you do: defend the helpless, protect the innocent, just like you always swore to do. Like you always did for me.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I looked up at him and shook my head, even if he wouldn’t acknowledge it, I knew it was different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It wasn’t the same, Bish. There was no ‘brotherly’ love involved,” I said wryly. “Just lust. I went there to use him, just like all the other men had.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“But you didn’t. You thought he was a consenting adult. When you found out differently, you could have walked away,” he said implacably. “You could have stayed out of it. Pretended not to see. You could have left him there. Then what would have happened?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Fuck that! You know I couldn’t have, Bishop! They would have killed him!” I said, my voice getting louder as anger starting to replace my guilt. How could he not understand? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“God, I’ll never forget the smell of his burned skin…” I shuddered. “I lived through Afghanistan, but it wasn’t until I came back here that I found something that made me physically ill to think about.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“So, again,” he continued, “You could have walked away, right? You called the police. They would have saved him, right?” he demanded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I couldn’t leave him,” I whispered. “I promised him I would save him. I had to.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“So, you saved him. Saved him from the man assaulting him. Saved him from a life that was pure hell. How, exactly, is that a bad thing?” he asked, his eyes piercing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I didn’t go there to save him, Bishop. I went there to use him, just like all the other men did,” my voice broke as I yelled at him. “He fears becoming the same monster his tormentors were to him, but I already am.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I realized suddenly that I was yelling, on my feet, my chair pushed back, hands balled into fists on the table as I leaned on them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Really? So why didn’t you?” Bishop asked, still seated, his face blank, his eyes quiet as he spoke. “You’d gone hundreds of miles for him, killed this bastard, Ricky, for him. You could have fucked him then. No one would have known. He certainly couldn’t have stopped you. After all, you spent your hard-earned cash to fuck him, right? But you didn’t do it. Why not?” Bishop stood now, also leaning forward on the table, his face tipped up toward mine in challenge, his eyes flashing like lightning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I looked at my brother in disbelief. How could he even think of such a thing? Rape Mason? The mere thought of it had me diving for the trash can as the pastry and soda came back up. I coughed and spat, eyes streaming as another wave of nausea hit me. After a moment, a wet washcloth was laid gently across the back of my neck, and I looked up to see Bishop staring down at me, a soft smile on his lips. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’s what makes you different,” he said quietly, pointing to the mess in the trash can and I raised an eyebrow at him. “The mere thought of forcing another human being to have sex makes you vomit. Those men who hurt Mason had long ago lost whatever reflex it is that lets us keep evil out of our souls.”</span></div>
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<b>ABOUT THE AUTHOR</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Mellanie Rourke lives in Akron, Ohio with her loving (and long-suffering) husband, two snarky children, and furry menagerie.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">She has been writing since she was a child but never had the impulse to publish until she was introduced to the world of M/M Romance. Now her husband has to put up with a variety of new ways to describe a penis, and her children aren't allowed to tell their teachers what she writes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">For more information on Mellanie's upcoming work, join her Facebook group "Misfits & Malcontents” at </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/MisfitsandMalcontents/">https://www.facebook.com/groups/MisfitsandMalcontents/</a></span><span style="font-weight: 400;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">To stay informed about upcoming releases, special events and fun contests, join her mailing list at: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://lp.constantcontact.com/su/2hWdMxT/MelRourke">https://lp.constantcontact.com/su/2hWdMxT/MelRourke</a></span></div>
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Hosted by</div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-65391062153243436802019-07-28T08:30:00.000-04:002019-07-28T20:14:15.275-04:00Blog Tour w/ Excerpt -INTOXICATING by Onley James<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Intoxicating</b></div>
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<b>Elite Protection Services Book 1</b></div>
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<b>Onley James</b></div>
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<b>M/M Contemporary/Age-Gap/Daddy Kink/BDSM </b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 07.08.19</b></div>
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<b>Cover Designer:</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> Molly Phipps @ We Got You Covered Book Design</span></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lincoln Hudson has just been handed the easiest job in the world. Babysit the spoiled son of a conservative senator, keep him out of trouble, and receive a six-figure paycheck, a paycheck he desperately needs. Wyatt’s father claims he needs Linc’s firm hand and discipline. One look at him and Linc agrees. Wyatt needs discipline.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Being the closeted gay son of a family values senator has left Wyatt Edgeworth with a reckless streak and a love of partying that just cost him eight months of his life and might cost his father his re-election. So now he has a babysitter. A very sexy babysitter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">When Wyatt drunkenly tells Linc he’d make an excellent Daddy, they reach an understanding. Wyatt gets a Daddy and Linc gets a paycheck, then they go their separate ways. For this to work, discretion is key, but with a reporter dogging Wyatt’s every move, that might prove impossible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Staying together was never an option, but with each passing day, their feelings only grow. Will they risk it all for what’s supposed to be a harmless fling?</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Intoxicating is the first book in the Elite Protection Services Series and contains age-gap, Daddy-kink and BDSM elements complete with a HEA and no cliffhangers. Warning: This book contains scenes which may trigger some people including, self-harm, suicide attempt, past and present physical abuse and implied past sexual violence.</span></div>
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<b><a href="http://mybook.to/Intoxicating">mybook.to/Intoxicating</a></b></div>
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He had a right to pout, he assured himself. His balls ached and his cock was hard enough to break a window yet some stupid part of him was still desperate to please his Daddy. If Linc wanted to punish him, Wyatt couldn’t stop him, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. </div>
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He was the opposite of happy and it was his right to behave accordingly.</div>
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He side-stepped Linc, hitting him with the most frigid look he could muster. “Fine, then I’ll just go take a cold shower… Linc.”</div>
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Using Linc’s name was petty, but it gave him a small measure of satisfaction as he sauntered past. Linc caught him by the upper arm, his other hand swatting Wyatt’s backside twice. He bit his lip to keep from moaning, even as his cock leaked, betraying him. Linc spun him back around. “If you need to shower, you can shower with me so I can keep an eye on you. I won’t have you getting yourself off all alone in there.”</div>
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“I wouldn’t,” Wyatt fumed.</div>
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Linc snickered. “Oh, you would. Instead, I think you should get on your knees and blow me.”</div>
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Wyatt glowered at him. “Oh, do you?”</div>
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Linc smirked. “Mm hmm. Right now.”</div>
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Wyatt cocked his head to the side, lips pursed. “No.”</div>
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“Are you disobeying me again?” Linc questioned, threading a hand in Wyatt’s hair, forcing his head back.</div>
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Why did he like this so much? “I’m already being punished. What does it matter?” </div>
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Linc grinned, stepping into Wyatt’s space, pressing kisses into his throat and along his jaw. “Do you think I can’t make it worse? I could bend you over this bed and spank your bottom until its raw, jerk myself off while I tell you all the things I would’ve done to you if you’d just behaved, put your cock in a cage, make sure you don’t come again for a week, maybe more. Is that what you want? Me, using you for only my benefit? That doesn’t sound like much fun for you?”</div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Onley James is the pen name of YA author, Martina McAtee, who lives in Florida with her daughter, her daughter-in-law, and a menagerie of animals, both good and evil. When she’s not writing m/m romance or supernatural LGBT young adult books, she’s running 7 Sisters Publishing and attempting to maintain both her sanity and her full-time job as an RN.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">When not at work you can find her mainlining Starbucks refreshers, whining about how much she has to do and avoiding the things she has to do by binge-watching unhealthy amounts of television in one sitting. She loves ghost stories, true crime documentaries, obsessively scrolling social media and writing kinky, snarky books about men who fall in love with other men. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook: </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/OnleyJamesWrites"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.facebook.com/OnleyJamesWrites</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook Reader Group: </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/groups/OnleysOubliette"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.facebook.com/groups/OnleysOubliette</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Pinterest: </span><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/onleyjames/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.pinterest.com/onleyjames/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Twitter: </span><a href="http://www.twitter.com/OnleyJames10"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.twitter.com/OnleyJames10</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Instagram: </span><a href="http://www.instagram.com/OnleyJames10"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.instagram.com/OnleyJames10</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Website: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://www.onleyjames.com/">www.onleyjames.com</a></span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-85789786255802132402019-07-27T09:00:00.000-04:002019-07-27T17:06:47.657-04:00Blog Tour: Review + Excerpt - RULES TO FOLLOW by Susan Hawke<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Rules to Follow</b></div>
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<b>Davey's Rules Series, Book 1</b></div>
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<b>Susan Hawke</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance - Daddy/boy</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 07.14.19</b></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Davey’s Rule #86: A good Daddy will never lie to his boy… even by omission.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Travis Miller has a pretty solid life in the small California beach town he calls home. He’s working his way up in the district attorney’s office, he owns a home with an ocean view, and he has close ties with his family. Life is good. If only he could find a sweet boy to call his own, life would be… perfect. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Adam Nichols’ life has never been easy. Growing up in foster care taught him to be strong, so finding himself in a violent relationship was a shock. Now that he's finally free of it, he faces new problems. He's jobless, homeless, and terrified of starting from scratch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">With a little help from an old friend, Adam discovers a whole new world. He goes from rock bottom to renting a room from a hot assistant DA and working at Daddy’s Lap, a kink club that opens his vanilla eyes to things he’d never imagined. His new roommate is a balm to Adam’s damaged soul. The tender way Travis cares for him is almost like the Daddy kink community he’s seen at the club. But Travis isn’t a Daddy… right? If he were, surely he’d have said so. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">What happens when a lie by omission threatens to bring their budding relationship tumbling down around them? Will Travis ever be able to earn Adam's trust again?</span></div>
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<em><span style="font-weight: 400;">This is the first book in a new series about not-so-perfect Daddies, adorable “boys,” and one sassy brat with an insane list of rules. Grab your fan and tissues because this series comes with both a high heat advisory and all the squishy feels you’d want from a Susan Hawke book. Possible trigger for references to domestic violence.</span></em></div>
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<a href="http://mybook.to/RulestoFollow"><b> </b><b>mybook.to/RulestoFollow</b></a></div>
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<b>Review </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAK-7AEp6_S73Ta2Xa4V2r4cVkSrL_flt9IM5hrP27zBWFzyXJoiE0tKoXQCGStR-ElIlmi6lpe1S6a2R1cUZmc47MKSluezP8j3iHdpBwqxJM2RbOp6KUGax5cQe6c53unNZFHYhIjRD/s1600/4-star+-+green.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="1600" height="50" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAK-7AEp6_S73Ta2Xa4V2r4cVkSrL_flt9IM5hrP27zBWFzyXJoiE0tKoXQCGStR-ElIlmi6lpe1S6a2R1cUZmc47MKSluezP8j3iHdpBwqxJM2RbOp6KUGax5cQe6c53unNZFHYhIjRD/s200/4-star+-+green.png" width="200" /></a></div>
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<b>Four Tender Stars!! </b></div>
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This is a new-to-me author who piqued my interest when I read the blurb for this book. It's not exactly what I was expecting but I did enjoy the story.</div>
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The overall circumstances of how Adam and Travis met was really sad. The beginning was heartbreaking yet empowering because as beaten and broken as Adam was he found the strength and determination to leave the abusive relationship he was in. I feel that this author really did a great job with Adam's character. His progress to healing and becoming independent on his own was written very well. </div>
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I loved when Adam started to realize his interest in the Daddy/boy kink that it didn't come across as super needy. Travis was the absolute perfect fit for him. I loved Travis. His patience, tenderness and nurturing tendencies were super endearing. Was he overprotective? Yes. Overbearing. No. Adam and Travis just suited each other perfectly. </div>
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Susan Hawke delivers an amazing read with low angst, mild daddy kink, super sweet romance and a touch of humor whenever the sassy little Davie was involved. Man, Davie is a riot and I absolutely cannot wait to see how his story unfolds. Definitely looking forward to reading more from this author. </div>
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<b>*** ARC provided in exchange for an honest review ***</b></div>
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<b>Excerpt</b> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">After the movie, we finally took our groceries home. Travis insisted on putting everything away himself. "While I do this, how about you order us a pizza? After that scare fest you talked me into watching, I'm in the mood for something lighter. While we eat, maybe we can watch that Adam Sandler movie we never finished."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"That sounds like an excellent plan. Same order as last time?" I was already on my phone, loading the website to order online.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Yes, but no onions or extra garlic on this one." He sounded so certain, I couldn't help but look up curiously. He was bent into the refrigerator, so I couldn't see his face. Not that I minded the view I did have, though. In fact, I was so busy checking out his butt that it took me a second for his next comment to register. "Unless you promise to eat the same thing. If we end up kissing again, I refuse to have bad breath unless it's mutual."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This was the first time he'd acknowledged the kiss. And he was hinting at another? My mouth went dry as I adjusted my pants that had suddenly gotten a little too tight in certain areas. "I-I, umm…" I gave my head a shake and started again when I couldn't get the words out the first time. "I vote for onions and garlic on the whole thing. Mutual bad breath for the win. Besides, there's garlic in the sauce anyway."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When he stood and looked over at me, I focused on my screen. I could feel my stupid cheeks blushing. I knew he'd noticed it when I heard a quiet chuckle. Deciding this was a good time to excuse myself and get a little bit under control, I headed out of the room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I'll be right back; I'm just going to change. If we're going to be in relaxation mode, these stiff jeans need to go." Just the mention of the word stiff had me blushing all over again, because my pants weren't the only stiff thing on my body.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By the time I cleaned up and changed into pj pants, Travis was waiting in the living room with our pizza and a couple glasses of wine. My eyes widened when I took in the dimly lit room with the movie paused and waiting on the TV. Gulping, I glanced at Travis. "Wow, I didn't mean to take that long."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He shook his head and patted the couch beside him as he turned and stretched a leg out like he had last time. "You didn't take too long, they were just really fast with the delivery this time. Come sit with me. I was thinking maybe we could cuddle. Unless you think that's too much, too soon?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"No, that sounds… ah… nice." My heart pounded as I scurried over and got settled between his legs with my back to his chest. Travis pulled the coffee table closer and opened the pizza box.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I brought napkins, if you need one. But I figure we can forgo plates tonight and keep it casual. Does that work for you?" His voice was like velvet as it caressed my ear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt my blush return as I awkwardly nodded. "Y-Yes. That sounds good." I waited while he started the movie then reached into the pizza box. I figured I would grab my slice after he'd taken first pick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead of biting into the piece he’d chosen, he held it to my mouth instead. "Take a bite, sweet boy. You always tease me about wanting to feed you. Tonight I'd like to live up to my reputation." He chuckled and waited for me to bite into the pizza.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was weirdly nice to be fed. He patiently waited, lowering the slice while I chewed each mouthful. It wasn't until I'd finished three slices and groaned that I couldn't handle another bite that he finally ate his own. I slouched back against his shoulder, watching the movie while he had his turn at dinner. I didn't even bother with the wine; I was buzzed enough on Travis.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If anybody had walked up right then and asked me about the movie, I doubted I could have told them anything more than who starred in it. I was too aware of Travis and how good it felt to snuggle against his hard body.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Was I falling for him? It sure felt like it. The way I kept blushing, the way my palms got damp, the way my heart raced when he was near… the signs were definitely there. I thought back over everything I'd seen of this man, poking my memories for a sign of anything wrong with him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Something had to be, because I did not have a good track record where men were concerned. The more I considered it, though, I couldn't find a single thing that would put up a red flag. If anything, he made me feel protected and special.</span></div>
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<img alt="Susan Hawke Logo" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2659" height="102" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/07/susan-hawke-logo.png" width="320" /></div>
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As an avid reader and big romance fan myself, I love sharing the stories of the different people who live in my imagination. My stories are filled with humor, a few tears, and the underlying message to not give up hope, even in the darkest of times, because life can change on a dime when you least expect it. This theme comes from a lifetime of lessons learned on my own hard journey through the pains of poverty, the loss of more loved ones than I'd care to count, and the struggles of living through chronic illnesses. Life can be hard, but it can also be good! Through it all I've found that love, laughter, and family can make all the difference, and that's what I try to bring to every tale I tell.</div>
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I'm a happily married mom with one snarky teenage boy, and three grown "kids of my heart." I'm more widely known for my mpreg writings as Susi Hawke; this new name is a departure from that. Whether written by Susan or Susi, the books are filled with that all-important love, laughter, and family I mentioned; the only difference is that this name has no male pregnancy. I look forward to sharing my stories with you, and to bringing more romance and laughter into this world that needs it so very badly</div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">IG: </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/authorsusanhawke"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.instagram.com/authorsusanhawke</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">FB: </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSusanHawke"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSusanHawke</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Bookbub: </span><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/susan-hawke"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.bookbub.com/authors/susan-hawke</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Newsletter: </span><a href="http://bit.ly/SusanHawkeNewsletter"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://bit.ly/SusanHawkeNewsletter</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Audio: </span><a href="http://bit.ly/SusanHawkeAudio"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://bit.ly/SusanHawkeAudio</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Reader Group: </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/groups/TheHawkesNest"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.facebook.com/groups/TheHawkesNest</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Website: </span><a href="http://www.susihawke.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://www.susihawke.com</span></a> </div>
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Hosted by:</div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-37537797729380307892019-07-25T09:00:00.000-04:002019-07-25T13:55:53.507-04:00Blog Tour: Excerpt + Giveaway - BREAKAWAY by Charlie Novak<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Breakaway</b></div>
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<b>Charlie Novak</b></div>
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<b>Contemporary Romance, Sports Romance, Second Chance Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 07.23.19</b></div>
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<b>Cover Designer: </b><span style="font-weight: 400;">Natasha Snow/</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://natashasnow.com/">http://natashasnow.com/</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">When your life revolves around a single goal, is there room for love? </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Christian King is a rising star in English football. He’s talented, devoted, and on the road to glory. He’s following the path that’s been laid out for him since he was four, and he has no plans to deviate from it. </span></div>
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Christian’s life revolves around a single goal—to be the best… until he runs into his first love ad former best friend, David.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">David Cade is just trying to survive the final year of his PhD intact, while battling long hours, unmotivated students, and the idea that academia might not be for him. But a chance encounter with his first love’s twin sister changes everything, and suddenly David is faced with the realisation that he can’t leave the past behind. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">When David and Christian are drawn back together, sparks fly. Soon, Christian is forced to confront his deepest insecurities. Can they break away from their fears for a second chance at true love? </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Breakaway is a 79,000 word contemporary gay romance featuring light angst, glittery bath bombs, a ginger-haired roommate/pet, shared Star Wars love, and a meddling twin sister.</span><br />
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<b>Universal Book Link: </b><b><a href="http://mybook.to/breakaway">http://mybook.to/breakaway</a></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We were still chatting after dinner, so we took our pudding into the living room, while Christian sang Monika’s praises and practically danced on the spot about being allowed pudding during the week. He’d always had a phenomenal sweet tooth, and I guessed that being a professional player was seriously at odds with his desire for sugar. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do you want to watch a film?” Christian asked as he flopped onto the sofa, carefully holding his bowl of lemon tart while searching for the remote. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sure,” I said, settling next to him and taking in the details of the room. It was light and airy, with large French doors at one end that I assumed opened up onto the garden, although it was too dark to see. The room was lit with the soft glow of lamps, which gave it a warm feel despite its size. The two sofas were scattered with a large selection of colourful cushions and throws, and in one corner a large television stood on a wooden stand. There was a unit beside it filled with Blu-rays and games as well as random knick-knacks and photos, and I was sure I could see a scattering of trophies in amongst them. I was dying to be nosey, but I also knew that wasn’t polite. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What do you fancy? I’ve got Netflix and Amazon Prime,” Christian said. He gestured at the unit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Or there’s lots of Blu-rays up there. Take your pick.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’ll have a look,” I answered, seizing my chance to satisfy my curiosity. I placed my bowl on the solid coffee table and meandered, over but before I could look at any of the photos, something on the floor behind the coffee table caught my eye. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was a giant LEGO set, half assembled and spread across the carpet, the carefully numbered bags laid out neatly next to the large instruction manual. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Holy fuck, is that the Millennium Falcon?” It was still more of a frame than anything else, but the shape was still recognisable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah,” Christian said, his cheeks tinting again which made something funny pulse in my chest. “I, um, I like building them for fun. They’re good to take my mind off things, help me focus on being in the moment instead of dwelling on stuff. And I like Star Wars.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do you have others?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Christian nodded, chewing his lip and smiling. “I built the Death Star in the spring. That was fun, but it took hours. It’s upstairs so I don’t knock it over.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My inner geek was dancing. I’d always loved Star Wars, and Christian and I had spent hours watching them as kids. My mum had even taken the two of us to see </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Revenge of the Sith</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> for my birthday. As an adult I’d always longed for a couple of these sets, but they were so fucking expensive I’d never imagined getting one. I mean, this Millennium Falcon kit was worth nearly seven hundred quid. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Can—can we build it now?” I asked, trying not to hold my breath. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Really? I mean, you’d be interested in that?” There was a note of astonishment in Christian’s voice, while mine was barely controlled excitement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Of course! I’ve always wanted to get my hands on this.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Okay,” Christian said with a nod. “Let’s do it. Do you want to put a film on in the background? Maybe </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Force Awakens</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">? I haven’t seen it in a while.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sounds perfect!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ten minutes later we were sitting on the floor, the opening credits of the film playing in the background while Christian talked me through what he’d done so far. It was obvious that he took his building seriously, and I had to admit it was adorable. After my pep talk, he handed me a bag and showed me the instructions he wanted me to follow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You know, I’m sure there’s a terrible joke about inserting things somewhere in there,” I said, watching the way Christian’s face flushed as my words filtered through. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Probably,” he added. “But I’ve never thought of it.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Me neither, I’m not good with words.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I find that hard to believe—you’re doing your PhD.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nah, that’s all smoke and mirrors,” I joked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“So, tell me more about your work,” Christian said, picking up his own pieces. “I don’t know much about academic stuff beyond what Lily’s told me.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I smiled, opened my bag, and began talking. And I didn’t stop. Well, not until the early hours of the morning. By that time, we’d covered my degree, Lily, our mums, the Champions League, and the new Star Wars and Marvel films. The only thing we’d avoided discussing was our relationships, but I figured that was because neither of us had much to tell. Plus, talking about new partners with exes is one of those weird grey areas I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to avoid. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With every word, I could feel Christian slotting back into my life like he’d never left, but at the same time, this wasn’t the same Christian as before. It was a new version—older, smarter, and sweeter. He was driven and determined and had a desire to know as much as he could and actually seemed interested when I spent another hour talking about my work. He talked non-stop about how proud he was of Lily and how much he loved her, and he was so endearingly serious and charming that I couldn’t help but be bowled over by him. And he was so disarmingly handsome that every time he smiled or chewed on his perfect, pink lips, the hot ball of desire in my chest burnt hotter and hotter until it felt like there was a supernova inside me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way about anyone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It had probably been six years.</span></div>
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<img alt="Author Photo (Charlie N)" class="alignnone wp-image-2683 aligncenter" height="200" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/07/author-photo-charlie-n.jpg" width="140" />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Charlie lives in England with her husband and a severe lack of dogs. She spends most of her days wrangling other people’s words in her day job and then trying to force her own onto the page in the evening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">She loves cute stories with a healthy dollop of angst, even more fluff, plenty of delicious sex, and happily ever afters – because the world needs more of them. Charlie also believes that love comes in all shapes and sizes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Charlie has very little spare time, but what she does have she fills with cooking, pole-dancing, reading and ice-hockey. She also thinks that everyone should have at least one favourite dinosaur…</span><br />
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</b><span style="font-weight: 400;">Website: </span><a href="https://charlienovak.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://charlienovak.com/</span><span style="font-weight: 400;">
</span></a><span style="font-weight: 400;">Twitter: </span><a href="https://twitter.com/charlienwrites"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://twitter.com/charlienwrites</span><span style="font-weight: 400;">
</span></a><span style="font-weight: 400;">Instagram: </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/charlienwrites/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.instagram.com/charlienwrites/</span><span style="font-weight: 400;">
</span></a><span style="font-weight: 400;">FB Readers Group (Charlie’s Angels): </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1287247458080320/">https://www.facebook.com/groups/1287247458080320/</a></span><br />
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<b>Giveaway</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="c86a9670161" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/c86a9670161/" id="rcwidget_uqcdhn35" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></span><br />
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-22649607285477822312019-07-22T08:00:00.000-04:002019-07-22T08:00:03.307-04:00Blog Tour w/ Excerpt - CROSSING NUWA: ESCAPE by Sean Ian O'Meidhir & Connal Braginsky<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Crossing Nuwa Tour Banner" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2672" height="237" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/07/crossing-nuwa-tour-banner.jpg" width="640" />
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<b>Crossing Nuwa: Escape </b></div>
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<b>Sean Ian O'Meidhir & Connal Braginsky</b></div>
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<b>MM Urban Fantasy, Paranormal / Rescue, Innocence/Discovery, First Love</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 07.09.19</b></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-83f078d3-7fff-b682-455e-16a48d2d869b" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="474" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/dXQomxzdLTniIaWDtbQwI8xx8P23X5wc9TjXo5zPgZahkSwVk0YMkLqeUubMZaIDk5UNub11ps8S4LSmZJrs2ulUKADqUvDhbQoDUP2PNCbl-CSWO0_pc-6nloF70Kpx-_L4nIV2" style="border: none;" width="316" /></span></div>
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<b>Cover Designer</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> - Jay Aheer </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.simplydefinedart.com/">https://www.simplydefinedart.com</a></span></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">For sheltered Robbie, one week of freedom leads to sexual awakening and adventure… but when his world intersects with Theo’s, they’ll need all their wits and Theo’s magic to fight for their future. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Rare male weresnake Robbie has had his whole life decided for him down to his meals. But when the time comes for him to perform an unspeakable duty to his clan, he runs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">San Francisco Pride is in full swing when technomage Theo spots a scared-looking young man with brilliant emerald eyes. He’s only looking for a hookup, but before he knows why, he’s taking Robbie home and introducing him to champagne and enchiladas. He doesn’t have any intention of falling in love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Robbie doesn’t want to return to his clan, at least not without trying to fit a lifetime of experiences into a week, but every day he stays puts Theo in more danger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Buy Link: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://bit.ly/CrossingNuwaEscape">http://bit.ly/CrossingNuwaEscape</a></span></div>
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<b>Excerpt</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #202124; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Reality started to sink back in, and I was standing under the water, trying desperately to have the boiling spray chase away my ruminations from the previous night on the run. I don’t know how long I had been in there when a stir of air tickled across my back, alerting me that I wasn’t alone. I spun around to see him standing there. Naked! He was incredibly tall (which is saying something considering I’m six foot two and felt dwarfed), with his broad shoulders and a thick furry chest, bristly goatee, and the bright curly electric-blue hair that somehow shone in the fluorescents of the bathroom in a way that it hadn’t under the sun. His dark skin tone also shone differently with the indoor lighting, which seemed to illuminate the differences between us with my much paler skin. My eyes drifted down over his soft chubby belly to his manhood, which was sticking straight out at me! The burn of shame flowed over my entire head and shoulders as I almost lost my balance turning my immediate arousal away from him.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #202124; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Man, I hope you’re a bottom.” He exhaled as his huge arms encircled me. “I’ve never been wrong before.” His breath, warm against my ear, sent a cascade of goose bumps down my side.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #202124; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My brain practically short-circuited. I was no longer thinking about Mother and my aunt chasing me. I was no longer worrying about where I was going to go or what I was going to do. The only thing I could focus on was the soft comforting pillow of his belly against my back coupled with the enticing hard pressure that slid against my rear and made my breath catch for reasons I couldn’t begin to process. I had never experienced anything like it in my life and was suddenly bombarded by too many emotions I couldn’t identify, had never experienced. Above all of them was exhilaration as every nerve felt electrified, alive. And then his hands were everywhere. He was holding… soap? The small knobbed bar of hotel soap slid across my chest and flat belly… lower, encircling me with a few gentle strokes that sparked sensations throughout my entire body, then back up over my shoulders, kneading gently but firmly.</span></div>
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<img alt="L Blue Moon 3 Dreamer's Workshop" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2642" height="102" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/07/l-blue-moon-3-dreamers-workshop.png" width="320" />
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<b>ABOUT THE AUTHORS</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Sean is a shrink who by day spends time in jails and prisons (evaluating criminals) and by night writes romantic fiction. Sean and partner live in San Francisco ruled by their three cats and can often be found trying new restaurants. With the understanding that they live in Heaven, Sean adores spending time sitting near the water with a laptop in hand, gazing at the bay and making daydreams a reality for others to enjoy. To read more about Sean's adventures, please visit </span><a href="http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.dreamersworkshop.com</span></a><span style="font-weight: 400;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Connal Braginsky is a tech nerd that has taken a leap of faith and took a chance on writing. Born to Russian immigrants, he came out as gay at 19, and was recently diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (Asperger's Syndrome).</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">He loves to read, and learn about Technology, Esoteric subjects and considers himself a transhumanist (the Russian Cosmism variety). His other pastimes revolve around philosophy which includes Panpsychism, Process Philosophy, Taoism, Buddhism and Gnosticism. He is also interested in various scientific fields, including Quantum Physics, Quantum Biology, Neurology, Psychology, and Sociology.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook page </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/SeanOMeidhir/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/SeanOMeidhir/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook group </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/439462953480874/?ref=share"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/groups/439462953480874/?ref=share</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Website </span><a href="http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Goodreads </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19211564.Sean_Ian_O_Meidhir"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19211564.Sean_Ian_O_Meidhir</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Twitter </span><a href="https://twitter.com/SeanIanOMeidhir"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://twitter.com/SeanIanOMeidhir</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Newsletter </span><a href="http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/newsletter/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/newsletter/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Connal’s Blog: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://dreamersrefuge.com/blog/">http://dreamersrefuge.com/blog/</a></span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-57994331833863563022019-07-15T08:00:00.000-04:002019-07-15T08:00:09.990-04:00Release Blitz w/ Excerpt - RULES TO FOLLOW by Susan Hawke<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Rules to Follow</b></div>
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<b>Davey's Rules Series, Book 1</b></div>
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<b>Susan Hawke</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance - Daddy/boy</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 07.14.19</b></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Davey’s Rule #86: A good Daddy will never lie to his boy… even by omission.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Travis Miller has a pretty solid life in the small California beach town he calls home. He’s working his way up in the district attorney’s office, he owns a home with an ocean view, and he has close ties with his family. Life is good. If only he could find a sweet boy to call his own, life would be… perfect. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Adam Nichols’ life has never been easy. Growing up in foster care taught him to be strong, so finding himself in a violent relationship was a shock. Now that he's finally free of it, he faces new problems. He's jobless, homeless, and terrified of starting from scratch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">With a little help from an old friend, Adam discovers a whole new world. He goes from rock bottom to renting a room from a hot assistant DA and working at Daddy’s Lap, a kink club that opens his vanilla eyes to things he’d never imagined. His new roommate is a balm to Adam’s damaged soul. The tender way Travis cares for him is almost like the Daddy kink community he’s seen at the club. But Travis isn’t a Daddy… right? If he were, surely he’d have said so. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">What happens when a lie by omission threatens to bring their budding relationship tumbling down around them? Will Travis ever be able to earn Adam's trust again?</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">This is the first book in a new series about not-so-perfect Daddies, adorable “boys,” and one sassy brat with an insane list of rules. Grab your fan and tissues because this series comes with both a high heat advisory and all the squishy feels you’d want from a Susan Hawke book. Possible trigger for references to domestic violence.</span></div>
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<a href="http://mybook.to/RulestoFollow"><b> </b><b>mybook.to/RulestoFollow</b></a></div>
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<b>Excerpt</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I licked my lips as I checked out my date for the umpteenth time. I had high hopes for tonight. Travis was definitely hot Daddy material. I'd been checking this cutie out for a while. He was one of the Daddies who belonged to the private club where I'd been working as a bartender for the past couple years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If Travis looked good inside the walls of</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Daddy's Lap, he looked downright edible sitting across from me in this fancy restaurant. God, I was just so sick of hookups and the whole dating scene. Maybe this date would be the one.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Seriously. Was it too much to ask to just want to find the perfect Daddy that I could settle down with? Hell, maybe we'd even get a puppy. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bitches like puppies. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That would be me. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m a bitch who likes puppies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was zoning out, picturing different dog breeds, when I realized the waiter was not-so-patiently waiting for my drink order. I gave the snotty twink the quick elevator treatment with bored eyes. "Sorry, hon. Just bring me a glass of the house red. No, scratch that. Make it a Merlot. God only knows what might pass for the house red."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The waiter—Todd, according to the name tag—rolled his eyes. He muttered under his breath, "Like you’d know the difference." I leaned back in my seat with new respect for the guy and silently clawed the air with my fingers. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Meow, baby.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Travis cleared his throat. "Scratch that, Todd. The gentleman will have a glass of iced tea. In fact, bring a glass for each of us. Thank you."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dammit. I'd had such high hopes for this evening and Travis had already broken rule number eight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn't say a word, just made a mental tally mark in the con column. Travis was only a few years older than me. He couldn't have been much older than thirty, yet he had that total Daddy vibe that checked every box for me. Age wasn't a factor in whether or not a man was a Daddy. You either had it, or you didn't. And Travis? Oh, honey… Travis had it going on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And yet… He’d totally broken rule number eight. I recited it silently while I reached for a bread roll and began to butter it.</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> "Daddy must respect that his boy is also an adult and will treat him as such in public or on the occasions when the boy needs his autonomy</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yep. Travis canceling my drink order was a complete rule infraction. However, I was nothing if I was not fair. Any potential Daddies would get three strikes before they were out. That meant Travis had two more chances to wow me, or not wow me, as the case may be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Todd showed up with two frosty glasses of iced tea, garnished with a pretty sliced lemon floating on top. I wrinkled my nose and set the glass aside as I took another look at my menu. Todd was reciting the day's specials, but I didn't have time for that shit. Please, honey. Everyone knows the day's specials are just a way to get rid of the things that are about to spoil. Yeah… no. I'd be ordering from the menu, thank you very much.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Are you gentlemen ready to order, or should I give you a few more minutes?" Was it me or was Todd giving me a judgmental look because I was still reading the menu? That just made me want to read it all over again, starting with the first item and reading like I’d forgotten my glasses.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My mouth fell open when Travis reached over and took my menu. He closed it and handed both menus to Todd. "I'll have the surf and turf special, and the gentleman will have the salmon almondine with the wild mushroom risotto." Todd jotted down the order and took off. I was too busy gaping at Travis to say a word.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How dare? How very dare? Sure, I'd been eyeballing the dish he’d ordered for me, but how dare he? Ugh. And in doing so, he'd just broken rule number seventeen—earning himself a second tally mark in the con column. I silently recited the rule as I continued to gape at Travis. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Daddy will not order his boy’s meal in public unless his boy has specifically requested he do so.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Whether or not I'd been planning to order that dish was completely beside the point. Facts were facts and rule infractions were rule infractions. There had to be order in life or anarchy would reign supreme.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Come on, Travis. Don't make that third strike. I'd really like to take you to third base when we get out of here. That's a much better third to hit, honey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">As an avid reader and big romance fan myself, I love sharing the stories of the different people who live in my imagination. My stories are filled with humor, a few tears, and the underlying message to not give up hope, even in the darkest of times, because life can change on a dime when you least expect it. This theme comes from a lifetime of lessons learned on my own hard journey through the pains of poverty, the loss of more loved ones than I'd care to count, and the struggles of living through chronic illnesses. Life can be hard, but it can also be good! Through it all I've found that love, laughter, and family can make all the difference, and that's what I try to bring to every tale I tell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I'm a happily married mom with one snarky teenage boy, and three grown "kids of my heart." I'm more widely known for my mpreg writings as Susi Hawke; this new name is a departure from that. Whether written by Susan or Susi, the books are filled with that all-important love, laughter, and family I mentioned; the only difference is that this name has no male pregnancy. I look forward to sharing my stories with you, and to bringing more romance and laughter into this world that needs it so very badly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">IG: </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/authorsusanhawke"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.instagram.com/authorsusanhawke</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">FB: </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSusanHawke"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSusanHawke</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Bookbub: </span><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/susan-hawke"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.bookbub.com/authors/susan-hawke</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Newsletter: </span><a href="http://bit.ly/SusanHawkeNewsletter"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://bit.ly/SusanHawkeNewsletter</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Audio: </span><a href="http://bit.ly/SusanHawkeAudio"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://bit.ly/SusanHawkeAudio</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Reader Group: </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/groups/TheHawkesNest"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.facebook.com/groups/TheHawkesNest</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Website: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://www.susihawke.com/">http://www.susihawke.com</a></span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-50813898887532465862019-07-10T08:00:00.000-04:002019-07-10T08:00:03.185-04:00Blog Tour: Excerpt + Giveaway - TRIPLE THREAT by Davidson King<img alt="Triple Threat Tour Banner" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2647" height="320" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/07/triple-threat-tour-banner.jpg" width="640" />
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<b>Triple Threat</b></div>
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<b>Haven Heart Series, Book 6</b></div>
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<b>Davidson King</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: June 27th</b></div>
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<b>M/M, Suspense, Romance, Action, Menage</b></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lee, Jones, and Ginger deal with dangerous situations and mounting stress daily working for the most powerful assassin organization in the world. All of those things seem like a walk in the park compared to the friction that sparks between them. When all three are assigned to the same job, ignoring the heat from the inferno of desire becomes impossible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lee is a master at deciphering codes, skilled in hacking complicated systems, and never misses a target, even from over fifty miles away. His feelings for Jones and Ginger, however, may be the first code he’s unable to crack.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Jones deals in absolutes, but the road to his past is paved with bodies and regrets. Getting Lee to acknowledge the pull they both feel toward Ginger may be the hardest mission he’s ever had to face. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Ginger struggles to cope with the overwhelming guilt that accompanies this new job. Falling for these hired killers will be a risk—one that could wind up with him losing in the end or gaining everything he’s ever wanted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">As the three work together to take down a human trafficking ring—and save a desperate soul—time is of the essence. Their lives are on the line as mysteries unfold and unexpected encounters throw them off course. Will Lee, Jones, and Ginger let doubts come between them, distracting them from their mission and blocking any hope of love? Or can they face the toughest challenge of their lives and become…a triple threat?</span></div>
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<b>UNIVERSAL LINK: </b><b><a href="http://mybook.to/TripleThreat">mybook.to/TripleThreat</a></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With Lee and Jones busy, I popped my earbuds in, hit play on my Spotify, and drowned in the sounds of Pat Benatar. I loved the ‘80s, some of the ‘90s, but damn the ‘80s had amazing music. As with every time I listened to my music, I started swaying in my seat. I closed my eyes, let my hands tap, my feet slide, and that chorus in “We Belong”… it possessed me, and I couldn’t help myself but to sing. I sang softly as to not disturb Lee and Jones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What the absolute fuck!” The sound of Jones’ voice broke through. I opened my eyes and pulled my buds out. The van had stopped and now Lee was standing, staring at me, too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hey,” I said meekly. “What’s up?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You scared the crap out of me,” Jones said, and Lee nodded in agreement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“One second it’s all quiet, then it’s like opera cats or something,” Lee answered, and this time Jones agreed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Wow, that’s harsh.” I drew my legs up to my chest, hearing the faint sounds of Tiffany singing that she thinks we’re alone now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Just warn us when you’re going to break out into song is all,” Lee grumbled, and then got back into the driver’s seat. I slipped the earbuds back in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A tap on my leg had me pulling out my earbuds again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You listen to all ‘80s or you got some not shitty crap in there?” Jones asked, and I gripped my phone like he just shit on my dreams.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nothing of what I have is shit!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lee started to laugh as he pulled back onto the road and Jones had a huge grin. It was a change I hadn’t really seen in a while. Those two actually enjoying each other. I knew there was history there, everyone did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If they wanted to be that way, okay. “Just for that,” I said as I put the phone on speaker and hit play. Joan Jett & The Blackhearts started singing about loving rock and roll, and because they love it so much, I sang with them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jones’ eyes widened and Lee once again pulled to the side of the road and turned in his seat. Seemed I was entertainment. I knew I didn’t have the best voice, but I had rendered these two dangerous men speechless. I was loving the power, the control.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Feeling daring, I inched over to Jones who looked positively terrified, and began drumming on his legs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sweet Jesus,” Lee said and laughed so loudly I lost track of my words and watched him. Tears ran down his face, and he had his arms wrapped around his middle. It was a contagious laugh, and suddenly the three of us were in hysterics.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"> </span></div>
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</span><span style="font-weight: 400;">When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"> </span></div>
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</span><span style="font-weight: 400;">If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.</span></div>
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<b>LinkTree to ALL links: </b><a href="https://linktr.ee/davidsonkingauthor"><b>https://linktr.ee/davidsonkingauthor</b></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">GIVEAWAY</span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-47991976823290376462019-07-09T08:00:00.000-04:002019-07-09T08:00:02.130-04:00Release Blitz: Chapter One - CROSSING NUWA: ESCAPE by Sean Ian O'Meidhir & Connal Braginsky<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Crossing Nuwa: Escape </b></div>
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<b>Sean Ian O'Meidhir & Connal Braginsky</b></div>
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<b>MM Urban Fantasy, Paranormal / Rescue, Innocence/Discovery, First Love</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 07.09.19</b></div>
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<b>Cover Designer</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> - Jay Aheer </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.simplydefinedart.com/">https://www.simplydefinedart.com</a></span></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">For sheltered Robbie, one week of freedom leads to sexual awakening and adventure… but when his world intersects with Theo’s, they’ll need all their wits and Theo’s magic to fight for their future. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Rare male weresnake Robbie has had his whole life decided for him down to his meals. But when the time comes for him to perform an unspeakable duty to his clan, he runs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">San Francisco Pride is in full swing when technomage Theo spots a scared-looking young man with brilliant emerald eyes. He’s only looking for a hookup, but before he knows why, he’s taking Robbie home and introducing him to champagne and enchiladas. He doesn’t have any intention of falling in love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Robbie doesn’t want to return to his clan, at least not without trying to fit a lifetime of experiences into a week, but every day he stays puts Theo in more danger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Buy Link: </span><a href="http://bit.ly/CrossingNuwaEscape" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">http://bit.ly/CrossingNuwaEscape</span></a></div>
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<b>Excerpt</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Chapter 1 </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">IT STARTED in the shower. Well, okay, my </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">story </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">didn’t actually start in the shower, but the part where I fell for Theo did. I look back now and realize how very naïve I was, but it doesn’t matter. I would have fallen for him anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ll get to the shower in a minute…. Maybe it’s important to explain </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">how </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I got to the shower. It’s still something that’s hard for me to believe….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">BREATHE. JUST breathe</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Well past midnight, I sat on the edge of my bed—fully dressed. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If I do this and they catch me they might kill me. But… how can I not? I can’t stay. I can’t do what they want….</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Every time I thought about it, my stomach began to churn, and I felt light-headed. What other options were there?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Come on,” I whispered, then laughed. Talking to myself? </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That’s </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">what this had come to?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stood on wobbly knees and opened my large walk-in closet. Over the last month I had been stowing things I would need in a backpack I hadn’t used since I was thirteen. An extra pair of pants, four shirts, seven pairs of underwear, seven pairs of socks, three half-full deodorants (having convinced Mrs. Matlock, our housekeeper, that I just go through them quickly), and two half-tubes of toothpaste earned with the same deception that caused spikes of guilt when I thought about it. No one had noticed these things slowly going missing, or if they had they didn’t say anything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stared at the backpack for a ridiculous amount of time. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is a bad idea. They’re going to kill me….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I snatched the backpack before I could think about anything else, rushed to the bathroom where I grabbed my electric razor and toothbrush and shoved them in. I slipped my e-reader from the bedside table into the front of my pack and surveyed the room. My room since I was born. My prison….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of what few things were there, I could see no reason to take anything else. Opening the door slowly, I peeked out into the darkened hall. Shifting my eyes to my serpent’s, I double-checked the hall and sighed with relief that there were no heat signatures that would suggest anyone lurking. Except me. I was the only one who stayed in my wing unless there were guests, so the bath and two other bedrooms in the wing were usually empty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What was I going to say if they found me? I rolled my eyes at myself. What </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">could </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I say? “Yes, Mother, just out for an evening run. Oh, the backpack? Well, you know how smelly I can get, just thought I’d bring a change of clothes, or seven.” I snorted at the absurdity of the situation, and then at the fact that I had been hovering in my doorway for over a minute. A little voice in my head started the mantra, “Just go, go, go.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I nodded and hurried out the door, down the hall, down the stairs, and paused.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The house was silent. Of course it was; no one was awake at this hour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Food. What was I going to do for food? Good thinking…. I tiptoed around the corner and through the formal dining room, which led into the kitchen. Ms. Matlock retired to her cottage at 9:00 p.m. sharp every night. She did not return to the main house until 6:00 a.m. every morning, and Mother and Aunt Edna never came into the kitchen. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Except for after midnight when there’s someone rummaging around in there</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, I chastised myself and worked harder to be quiet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I held my breath and listened again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nothing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I grabbed three pieces of fruit from the large bowl at the end of the counter. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If I take more, they’ll notice. Heck, they’ll notice I’m gone at 7:00 a.m. when I’m not down here for breakfast, so what will it matter if they notice more fruit is gone?</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I groaned and stuffed four more apples into my bag. The rest of the food in the house wasn’t prepared into meals, and I didn’t know how to cook. The thought came to mind of trying to teach myself how to cook one of Mrs. Matlock’s meat loaves so I could take it with me. But the smell would probably carry, and how long did it take to cook a meat loaf? What about salad? I could probably put together a salad… but how would I carry it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was stalling. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">was stalling. I shook my head and hurried back through the dining room toward the front door and stopped. Mother’s purse. She stored it in the entryway cupboard, but today it was sitting on the counter. I stopped breathing. Taking small gasps of air, I stood still.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She was behind me. I could feel her. Her eyes boring into the back of my skull. Her breath tickling my ear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I whipped around to find the hall empty and shuddered with relief. A visceral thing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gasping for breath, I bent over and rested my hands on my knees. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m going to vomit.</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Deep breath</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In through the nose.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I could focus and my stomach had stopped churning, I looked at the purse again. Why was her purse out? Did she often leave it out? I didn’t know. I glanced inside. What was I doing? I had already stolen food from the house. Was I really thinking about doing this? This was wrong… but then, leaving was wrong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With trembling fingers I separated the leather. Her wallet sat right on top. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I can’t….</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> The magnetic clasp easily parted, and inside I found several bills. I’d need money.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not giving myself any more time to think, I grabbed all the bills and stuffed them in my pocket before shoving the wallet back into the purse and stepping away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt dirty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Don’t think. Go. Go, go, go! </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I passed by the coat closet and paused. It was autumn…. I pulled out a coat that Mrs. Matlock had purchased for me. Something I’d never worn because I didn’t go out, but that she had made sure was available and in my size if I ever needed it. I pushed it into the pack and secured the zipper before hoisting it over both shoulders.</span></div>
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<b>ABOUT THE AUTHORS</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Sean is a shrink who by day spends time in jails and prisons (evaluating criminals) and by night writes romantic fiction. Sean and partner live in San Francisco ruled by their three cats and can often be found trying new restaurants. With the understanding that they live in Heaven, Sean adores spending time sitting near the water with a laptop in hand, gazing at the bay and making daydreams a reality for others to enjoy. To read more about Sean's adventures, please visit </span><a href="http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.dreamersworkshop.com</span></a><span style="font-weight: 400;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Connal Braginsky is a tech nerd that has taken a leap of faith and took a chance on writing. Born to Russian immigrants, he came out as gay at 19, and was recently diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (Asperger's Syndrome).</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">He loves to read, and learn about Technology, Esoteric subjects and considers himself a transhumanist (the Russian Cosmism variety). His other pastimes revolve around philosophy which includes Panpsychism, Process Philosophy, Taoism, Buddhism and Gnosticism. He is also interested in various scientific fields, including Quantum Physics, Quantum Biology, Neurology, Psychology, and Sociology.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook page </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/SeanOMeidhir/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/SeanOMeidhir/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook group </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/439462953480874/?ref=share"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/groups/439462953480874/?ref=share</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Website </span><a href="http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Goodreads </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19211564.Sean_Ian_O_Meidhir"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19211564.Sean_Ian_O_Meidhir</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Newsletter </span><a href="http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/newsletter/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://www.dreamersworkshop.com/newsletter/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Connal’s Blog: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://dreamersrefuge.com/blog/">http://dreamersrefuge.com/blog/</a></span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-68590400627439988592019-06-21T09:30:00.000-04:002019-06-21T22:08:03.294-04:00Chapter Reveal - HANDLE WITH CARE by Helena Hunting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Q9BIMKPlXZVpD4QNRgtuzKCwtBzuQyXZh8mSUP1c-va4bbVE42c1a25UjgFMv9Yi0cUzeDrb7ZMtkKo29uzdG0uwoKlqIMiS_Nw8_pSBquD9t1lV194igIXlSZbPW7BMjWMgLrbxrlDy/s1600/Handle+With+Care+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="979" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Q9BIMKPlXZVpD4QNRgtuzKCwtBzuQyXZh8mSUP1c-va4bbVE42c1a25UjgFMv9Yi0cUzeDrb7ZMtkKo29uzdG0uwoKlqIMiS_Nw8_pSBquD9t1lV194igIXlSZbPW7BMjWMgLrbxrlDy/s640/Handle+With+Care+cover.jpg" width="390" /></a></div>
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Title: Handle with Care</div>
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Series: Shaking Up #5</div>
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Author: Helena Hunting</div>
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Release Date: August 27, 2019</div>
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<b>BLURB</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lato" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">HE WANTS TO LOSE CONTROL.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "lato" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Between his parents’ messed up marriage and his narcissistic younger brother, Lincoln Moorehead has spent the majority of his life avoiding his family. After the death of his father, Lincoln finds himself in the middle of the drama. To top it all off, he’s been named CEO of Moorehead Media, much to his brother’s chagrin. But Lincoln’s bad attitude softens when he meets the no-nonsense, gorgeous woman who has been given the task of transforming him from the gruff, wilderness guy to a suave businessman</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "lato" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">SHE’S TRYING TO HOLD IT TOGETHER.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "lato" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Wren Sterling has been working double time to keep the indiscretions at Moorehead Media at bay, so when she’s presented with a new contract, with new responsibilities and additional incentives, she agrees. Working with the reclusive oldest son of a ridiculously entitled family is worth the hassle if it means she’s that much closer to pursuing her own dreams. What Wren doesn’t expect is to find herself attracted to him, or for it to be mutual. And she certainly doesn’t expect to fall for Lincoln. But when a shocking new Moorehead scandal comes to light, she’s forced to choose between her own family and the broody, cynical CEO.</span></div>
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<b>Pre-Order here: </b><br />
<b><a href="https://read.macmillan.com/lp/handle-with-care/">https://read.macmillan.com/lp/handle-with-care/</a></b><br />
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<b>Add to Goodreads: <a href="http://bit.ly/2RsHLDP">http://bit.ly/2RsHLDP</a></b><br />
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<b>SNEAK PEEK!! </b></div>
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<b>READ CHAPTER ONE HERE:</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">CHAPTER 1</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 20pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">WREN</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I slip onto the empty bar stool beside the lumberjack mountain man who looks like he tried to squeeze himself into a suit two sizes too small. He’s intimidatingly broad and thick, with long dark hair that’s been pulled up into a haphazard man bun thing. His beard is a hipster’s wet dream. His scowl, however, makes him about as approachable as a rabid porcupine. And yet, here I am, sidling up next to him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He glances at me, eyes bleary and not really tracking. He quickly focuses on his half-empty glass again. Based on the slump of his shoulders and the uncoordinated way he picks up his glass and tips it toward his mouth, I’m guessing he’s pretty hammered. I order a sparkling water with a dash of cranberry juice and a lime. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What I could really use is a cup of lavender-mint tea and my bed, but instead, I’m sitting next to a drunk man in his thirties. My life is extra glamorous, obviously. And no, I’m not an escort, but at the moment I feel like my morals are on the same kind of slippery slope. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Rough day?” I ask, nodding to the bottle that’s missing more than half its contents. It was full when he sat down at the bar an hour ago. Yes, I’ve been watching him the entire time, waiting for an opportunity to make my move. While he’s been sitting here, he’s turned down two women, one in a dress that could’ve doubled as a disco ball and the other in a top so low-cut, I could almost see her navel. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You could say that,” he slurs. He props his cheek on his fist, eyes almost slits. I can still make out the vibrant blue hue despite them almost being closed. They move over me, assessing. I’m wearing a conservative black dress with a high neckline and a hem that falls below my knees. Definitely not nearly as provocative as Disco Ball or Navel Lady. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That solving your problems?” I give him a wry grin and tip my chin in the direction of his bottle of Johnnie. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His gaze swings slowly to the bottle. It gives me a chance to really look at him. Or what I can see of his face under his beard, anyway.
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nah, but it helps quiet down all the noise up here.” He taps his temple and blurts, “My dad died.”
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I put a hand on his forearm. It feels awkward, and creepy on my part since its half-genuine, half-contrived comfort. “I’m so sorry.”</span></div>
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He glances at my hand, which I quickly remove, and refocuses on his drink. “I should be sorry too, but I think he was mostly an asshole, so the world might be better off without him.” He attempts to fill his glass again, but his aim is off, and he pours it on the bar instead. I rush to lift my purse and grab a handful of napkins to mop up the mess. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m drunk,” he mumbles.
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, I’m thinking that might’ve been the plan, considering the way you’re sucking that bottle back. I’m actually surprised you didn’t ask for a straw in the first place. Might be a good idea to throw a spacer in there if you want tomorrow morning to suck less.” I push my drink toward him, hoping he doesn’t send me packing like he did the other women who approached him earlier. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He narrows his eyes at my glass, suspicious, maybe. “What is that?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Cranberry and soda.”
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No booze?”
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No booze. Go ahead. You’ll thank me in the morning.”</span></div>
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He picks up the glass and pauses when it’s an inch from his mouth. His eyes crinkle, telling me he’s smiling under that beard. “Does that mean Imma wake up with you beside me?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I cock a brow. “Are you propositioning me?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Shit, sorry.” He chugs the contents of my glass. “I was joking. Besides, I’m so wasted, I can barely remember my name. Pretty sure I’d be useless in bed tonight. I should stop talkin’.” He scrubs a hand over his face and then motions to me. “I wouldn’t proposition you.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m not sure how to respond. I go with semi-affronted, since it seems like somewhat of an insult. “Good to know.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dammit. I mean, I think you might be hot. You look hot. I mean attractive. I think you’re pretty.” He tips his head to the side and blinks a few times. “You have nice eyes, all four of them are lovely.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This time I laugh—for real—and point to the bottle. “I think you might want to tell your date you’re done for the night.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He blows out a breath and nods. “You might be right.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He makes an attempt to stand, but as soon as his feet hit the floor, he stumbles into me and grabs my shoulders to steady himself. “Whoa. Sorry. Yup, I’m definitely drunk.” His face is inches from mine, breath smelling strongly of alcohol. Beyond that, I get a whiff of fresh soap and a hint of aftershave. He lets go of my shoulders and takes an unsteady step back. “I don’t usually do this.” He motions sloppily to the bottle. “Mostly I’m a three drink max guy.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I think losing your father makes this condonable.” I slide off my stool. Despite being tall for a woman, and wearing heels, he still manages to be close to a head taller than me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, maybe, but I still think I might regret it tomorrow.” He’s incredibly unsteady, swaying while standing in place. I take the opportunity for what it is and thread my arm through his, leading him away from the bar. “Come on, let’s get you to the elevator before you pass out right here.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He nods, then wobbles a bit, like moving his head has set him off balance. “That’s probably a good idea.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He leans into me as we weave through the bar and stumbles on the two stairs leading to the foyer. There’s no way I’ll be able to stop him if he goes down, but I drape one of his huge arms over my shoulder anyway, and slip my own around his waist, guiding him in a mostly straight line to the elevators. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Which floor are you on?” I ask. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Penthouse.” He drops his arm from my shoulder and flings it out, pointing to the black doors at the end of the hall. “Jesus, I feel like I’m on a boat.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It’s probably all the alcohol sloshing around in your brain.” I take his elbow again, helping him stagger the last twenty feet to the dedicated penthouse elevator. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He stares at the keypad for a few seconds, brow pulling into a furrow. “I can’t remember the code. It’s thumbprint activated though too.” He stumbles forward and presses his forehead against the wall, then tries to line up his thumb with the sensor, but his aim is horrendous and he keeps missing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I settle a hand on his very firm forearm. This man is built like a tank. Or a superhero. For a moment, I reconsider what I’m about to do, but he seems pretty harmless and ridiculously hammered, so he </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">shouldn’t </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">pose a threat. I’m also trained in self-defense, which would fall under the </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">by any means necessary </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">umbrella. “Can I help?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He rolls his head, eyes slits as they bounce around my face. “Please.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I take his hand between mine. The first thing I notice is how clammy it is. But beyond that, his knuckles are rough, littered with tiny scars and a few scabs, and his nails are jagged. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Your hands are small,” he observes as I line his thumb up with the sensor pad and press down. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Maybe yours are abnormally big,” I reply. They are rather large. Like basketball player hands. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You know what they say about big hands.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I fight not to roll my eyes, but for a brief moment, I wonder if what’s in his pants actually matches the rest of him. And if he’s unkempt everywhere, not just on his face. I cut that visual quickly because it makes me want to gag. “And what do they say?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His eyes crinkle again, and he slaps his own chest. “Something about big hands, big heart.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I bite back my own smile. “Pretty sure you’re mixing that up with cold hands, warm heart.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His brow furrows. “There’s a good chance.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The elevator doors slide open. He pushes off the wall with some effort and practically tumbles inside. He catches himself on the rail and sags against the wall as I follow him in. I honestly can’t believe I’m doing this right now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He doesn’t have to press a button since the elevator only goes to the penthouse floor. As soon as we start moving, he groans and his shoulders curl in. “I don’t feel so good.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Please don’t let him be sick in here. </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If there’s one thing I can’t deal with, it’s vomit. “You should sit.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He slides down the wall, massive shoulders rolling forward as he rests his forehead on his knees. “Tomorrow is going to suck.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stay on the other side of the elevator, in case he tosses his cookies. “Probably.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s the longest elevator ride in the history of the world. Or at least it feels that way, mostly because I’m terrified he’s going to yak. Thankfully, we make it to the penthouse floor incident-free. On the down side, now that he’s in a sitting position, getting him to stand again is a challenge. I have to press the open door button three times before I can finally coax him to his feet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the time between leaving the bar and making it to the penthouse floor, the effects of the alcohol seems to have compounded. He’s beyond sloppy, using the wall and me for support as we make our way to his door. There are two penthouse apartments up here. One on either side of the foyer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He leans against the doorjamb, once again fighting to find the coordination to get his thumb to the sensor pad. I don’t ask if he needs my assistance this time since it’s quite clear he does. Once again I take his clammy hand in mine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Your hands are really soft,” he mumbles.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Thanks.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
The pad ashes green, and I turn the handle. “Okay, here we go. Home sweet home.”
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“This isn’t my home,” he slurs. “My cousin’s family owns this building. I’m crashing here until I can get the fuck out of New York.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I scan the penthouse. It an eclectic combination of odd art and modern furniture, like two different tastes crashed together and this is the result. Aside from that, it’s clean to the point of looking almost like a show home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The only sign that someone is staying here is the lone coffee cup on the table in the living room and the blanket lolling like a tongue over the edge of the couch. I’m still standing in the doorway while he sways unsteadily. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He tries to shove his hand in his pants pocket, but all he succeeds in doing is setting himself off-balance. He nearly stumbles into the wall. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Thanks for your help,” he says. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He’s back in his penthouse, which means my job is technically done. However, I’m worried he’s going to hurt himself, or worse, asphyxiate on his own vomit in the middle of the night, and I’ll be the one catching heat if that happens. I’ll also feel bad if something happens to him. I blow out a breath, annoyed that this is how my night is ending. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I heave his arm over my shoulder and slip mine around his waist again, leading him through the living room toward what seems to be the kitchen. There’s a sheet of paper on the island, but otherwise it’s spotless. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What’re you doing?” he asks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We pause when we reach the threshold. “Which way is your bedroom?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He looks slowly from right to left. “Not that way.” He points to the kitchen. It’s very state of the art. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I guide him in the opposite direction down the hall, until he stumbles through a doorway, into a large but simply furnished bedroom. Once we reach the edge of the bed, he drops his arm, spins around—it’s drunkenly graceful—and falls back on the bed, arms spread wide as if he’s planning on making snow angels. “The room is spinning.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Would you like me to get you a glass of water and possibly a painkiller for the headache you’ll likely have in the morning?” I’m already heading for the bathroom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Might be a good idea,” he mumbles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I find a glass on the edge of bathroom vanity—which is clean, apart from a brand new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. I run the tap, wishing I had a plastic tumbler, because I’m not sure he’s in any state to deal with breakable objects. I check the medicine cabinet, find the pills I need, shake out two tablets, and return to the bedroom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He’s right where I left him; sprawled out faceup on a massive king-size bed, legs hanging off the end, one shoe on the floor beside him. I cross over and set the water and the pills on the nightstand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I make a quick trip back to the bathroom and grab the empty wastebasket from beside the toilet in case his night is a lot rougher than he expects. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I tap his knee, crossing my fingers he’ll be easy to rouse. “Hey, I have painkillers for you.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He makes a noise, but doesn’t move otherwise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I tap his knee again. “Lincoln, you need to wake up long enough to take these.” I cringe. I called him by name, and he didn’t offer it to me while we were down at the bar. Here’s hoping he’s too drunk to notice or remember. His name is Lincoln Moorehead, heir to the Moorehead Media fortune and all the crap that comes with it. And there’s a lot of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One eye becomes a slit. “Every time I open my eyes, the room starts spinning again.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If you drink this and take these, it might help.” I hold up the glass of water and the pills. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“’Kay.” It takes three tries for him to sit up. He tries to pick the pills up out of my palm, but keeps missing my hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Just open your mouth.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He lifts his head. “How do I know you’re not trying to roofie me?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hold up the tablet in front of his face. “They don’t say roofie, so you’re safe.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He tries to focus on the pill and then my face. I have my doubts he’s successful at either. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His tongue peeks out to drag across his bottom lip. “The cameras in the hall will catch you if you steal my wallet.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I laugh at that. “I’m not going to steal your wallet, I’m going to put you to bed.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hmm.” He nods slowly and opens his mouth. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I drop the pills on his tongue and hand him the glass, which he drains in three long swallows. “Would you like me to refill that?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That’d be nice.” He holds out the glass, but when I try to pull away, he covers my hands with his. His shockingly blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment they’re clear and compelling. Despite how out of it he is, and how much he resembles a mountain man, or maybe because of it, I have a hard time looking away. “I really wish I wasn’t this messed up. You smell nice. I bet your hair is pretty when it’s not pulled up like that.” He flops a hand toward my bun. “Not that it’s not pretty like that, but I bet if you took it down, it would be wavy and soft. The kind of hair you want to bury your face in and run your fingers through.” He exhales a long breath. “I haven’t had sex in a really long time, but I feel like I would have zero finesse if I tried right now.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I smile and turn away. In the time it takes for me to refill his glass, he’s managed to get one arm out of his suit jacket. He’s made it most of the way onto the bed, feet still hanging off the end, but he’s on his back, which is not ideal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I set the glass on his nightstand, along with a second set of painkillers, which I’m assuming he’ll need in the morning, and give him another nudge. “Hey.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This time I get nothing in the way of a response. I poke him twice more, but still nothing. He can’t sleep on his back with how drunk he is. He needs to be on his side or his stomach with a wastebasket close by. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I can’t in good conscience leave him like this. My options are limited. I shake my head as I kick off my shoes and climb up onto the bed with him. This is not at all what I expected to be doing when I brought him back up here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stare down at his sleeping form. His lips are parted, they’re nice lips, full and plump, even though they’re mostly obscured by his overgrown beard. His hair has started to unravel from its man bun, wisps hanging in his face. He has long lashes, really long actually, and they’re thick and dark, the kind women pay a lot of money for. His nose is straight and his cheekbones— what I can see of them—are high. With a haircut, a beard trim or complete shave, and a new suit that actually fits, I can imagine how refined he’ll look. More like a Moorehead than a mountain man lumberjack. I shake my head. “I need you to roll onto your side, please,” I say loudly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nothing. Not even a grunt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I pull on his shoulder, but he’s dead weight. Leaning over him, I make a fist and give him a light jab approximately where his kidney is. “Lincoln, roll over.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And roll he does, knocking me down and turning over so he’s right on top of me. We’re face-to-face. Good God, he’s heavy. His bones must be made of lead. He shifts, one leg coming over both of mine. I push at his knee, but his arm swings out and he wraps himself around me on a low groan, pinning my arm to my side. He’s like a giant human blanket. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How did this become my life?” I say to the ceiling, because the man lying on top of me is apparently out cold. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I try to wriggle free, I even yell his name a bunch of time before I give up and wait for him to roll off me. And while I wait for that to happen, I replay the conversation with his mother, Gwendolyn Moorehead, that took place forty-eight hours ago and put me in this awkward position underneath her drunk son. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’d been standing in Fredrick’s office, still digesting the fact that he was dead. It was shocking that a massive heart attack had taken him, since he was always so healthy and full of life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gwendolyn, his wife—now a widow—stood stoic behind his desk, papers stacked neatly in the center. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m so very for your loss, Gwendolyn. If there’s anything I can do. Whatever you need.” The words poured out, typical condolences, but sincerely meant because I couldn’t imagine how my mother and I would feel if we lost my father. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gwendolyn’s fingers danced at her throat as she cleared it. “Thank you,” she whispered brokenly and dabbed at her eyes. “I appreciate your kindness, Wren.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Let me know what you want me to handle, and I’ll take care of it.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She took a deep breath, composing herself before she lifted her gaze to mine. “I need your help.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Of course, what can I do?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“My oldest son, Lincoln, will be returning to New York for the funeral, and he’ll be staying to help run the company.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A hot feeling crept up my spine. I’d heard very little about Lincoln. Everything from Armstrong’s mouth was scathing, Fredrick’s passing references had been with fondness, and my interactions with Gwendolyn had been minimal as it was Fredrick himself who hired me, so this was first I’ve heard of Lincoln through her. “I see. And how can I help with that?” I could only imagine how difficult Armstrong would be if he had to share the attention with someone else, particularly his brother. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Transitioning Lincoln.” Gwendolyn rounded her desk. “You’ve managed to turn around Armstrong’s reputation in the media during the time you’ve been here. I know it hasn’t been easy, and Armstrong can be difficult to manage.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Difficult to manage </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is the understatement of the entire century where Armstrong is concerned. He’s a cocksucker of epic proportions. He’s also a misogynistic, narcissistic bastard that I’ve had to deal with for the past eight months on a nearly daily basis—sometimes even on weekends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My job as his “handler” has been to reshape his horrendous reputation after his involvement in several scandalous events became very public. It wasn’t a job I necessarily wanted, and I was prepared to politely reject the offer, but my mother asked me to take the position as a favor to her since she’s a friend of Gwendolyn. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Beyond that, my relationship with my mother has been strained for the past decade. When I was a teenager, I discovered information that changed our relationship forever. Taking the job at Moorehead was in part, my way of trying to help repair our fractured bond. The financial compensation, which was ridiculously high, also didn’t hurt. Besides, Gwendolyn is on nearly every single charitable foundation committee in the city, and since that’s where my interests lie, it seemed like a smart career move. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Since you’re already working with Armstrong and things seem to be settled there for the most part, I felt it would make sense to keep you on here at Moorehead to work with Lincoln. He’s been away from civilized society for several years. He’s nothing like his brother, very altruistic and focused on his job, rather than recreational pursuits, so he should be easier to manage.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I fought a scoff at the last bit, since “recreational pursuits” was a reference to the fact that Armstrong couldn’t seem to keep his pants zipped when it came to women.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gwendolyn pushed a set of papers toward me. “It would only be for another six months. And of course, your salary would reflect the double work load, since you’ll still have to maintain Armstrong in some capacity while you assist Lincoln in transitioning into his role here.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m sorry, what—” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gwendolyn pulled me into an awkward hug, holding onto my shoulders when she stepped back. Her eyes were glassy and red-rimmed. “You have no idea how much I appreciate your willingness to take this on. As soon as your contract is fulfilled, you have my word that I’ll give you a glowing recommendation to whichever organization you’d like. Your mother told me you’re interested in starting your own foundation. I’ll certainly help you in any way I’m able if you’ll stay on a little longer for me.” She dabbed at her corner of her eyes and sniffed, then tapped the papers on the desk. “I already have an agreement ready and an NDA, of course. Everything is tabbed for signing.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m pulled back into the present when Lincoln shifts and one of his huge hands slides up my side and lands on my breast. At the same time, he pushes his nose against my neck, beard tickling my collarbone. He mutters something unintelligible against my skin. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m momentarily frozen in shock. Under any other circumstances, I would knee him in the balls. However, he’s not conscious or even semi-aware that he’s fondling me. Thankfully, now that he’s moved, I have some wiggle room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I elbow him in the ribs, which probably hurts me more than it does him. At least it gets him to move away enough that I can slip out from under him. I roll off the bed and pop back up, smoothing out my now-wrinkled dress. My stupid nipples are perky, thanks to the attention the right one just got. Probably because it’s the most action I’ve seen since I started working for the Mooreheads eight months ago. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hit the lights on the way out of the bedroom, pause in the kitchen to grab a glass of water and check out the sheet of paper on the counter. It’s a list of important details regarding the penthouse, including the entry code. I nab my purse, snap a pic, and head for the elevators. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have a feeling this is going to be a long six months.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">From Handle With Care. Copyright © 2019 by Helena Hunting and reprinted with </span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: 700; white-space: pre-wrap;">permission from St. Martin’s Paperbacks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ABOUT THE AUTHOR</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Helena Hunting</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6NZZ6HAxAxCLy7lsFMqBAZ9uUOfocJL_4Fw6Jo5aEbSpYic6U-CKA75rkWHD66wN7F7_kbtseLx7lKtOK0crxEeLCvUM3_Mp3fY1QrwR7le6kKOjDyOwdvwevBSUj8ZpilhP0i-Lj5PjY/s1600/Helena+Hunting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1116" data-original-width="1278" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6NZZ6HAxAxCLy7lsFMqBAZ9uUOfocJL_4Fw6Jo5aEbSpYic6U-CKA75rkWHD66wN7F7_kbtseLx7lKtOK0crxEeLCvUM3_Mp3fY1QrwR7le6kKOjDyOwdvwevBSUj8ZpilhP0i-Lj5PjY/s200/Helena+Hunting.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">New York Times </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">USA Today</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://helenahunting.com/" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Author Web Site</span></span></a></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-12863626519436463072019-06-21T09:00:00.000-04:002019-06-21T21:20:34.991-04:00Blog Tour: Excerpt + Giveaway - FINDING ALEXANDER by Pandora Pine<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Finding Alexander Tour Banner" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2618" height="373" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/finding-alexander-tour-banner.jpg" width="640" />
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<b>Finding Alexander</b></div>
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<b>Pandora Pine</b></div>
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<b> Gay Romance/ Action-Adventure</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 06.11.19</b></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Indiana Jones meets Clark Kent in this modern-day treasure hunt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Archaeologist Cairo Vanderbilt was born to be a treasure hunter, whether he liked it or not. When his famous father dies in search of the tomb of Alexander the Great, Cairo picks up the trail to find the world's most famous lost treasure. Having failed once before, he's determined to find Alexander’s remains and fulfill his family's legacy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">History blogger Dillinger DeCosta has only written about the past from the safety of his South Boston office. After hearing Cairo speak about the coming expedition on the evening news, he wants to join the hunt for Alexander and finally be on the front lines of history-in-the-making. By offering to come along, Dillinger is taking a huge risk, but he's banking on an even bigger reward. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Hot on Alexander’s trail, Cairo and Dillinger discover sparks between them that ignite unexpectedly. One of the men has a secret that may threaten not only the success of the expedition, but their new relationship as well. If they can't find a way past the challenge that lies between them, they might just lose the greatest treasure of all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Each other.</span></div>
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<b><a href="http://getbook.at/FindingAlexander">getbook.at/FindingAlexander</a></b>
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<b>Excerpt</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we’d gotten back to the hotel, I’d stomped up to my room like a spoiled child. This is where I’d been for the last two hours. Alone and trying to figure a way out of this mess. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A knock at the connecting door between my room and Dillinger’s startled me out of my pity-party for one. Sighing, I headed to the door, pulling it open. What I saw was a bit of a surprise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You missed dinner.”Dillinger breezed past me and into my room, setting the dinner tray he was holding on my table. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I watched in awe as he started pulling lids off the plates. There was no way in hell I deserved this kind of treatment. He’d even brought me dessert. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I grabbed a bit of everything.”Dillinger’s intense green stare was boring into me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure how to react. No one had ever done anything like this for me, not even Memphis when I was sick and miserable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You could have at least said thank you.”Dillinger strode back toward the doors connecting our rooms. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shit</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">…“No, wait.”I took off after him, grabbing his left elbow with more force than I intended. I yanked so hard that Dillinger crashed against my chest. My left arm reached out to steady him, pulling him closer to me in the process. He was warm and solid. It could have been my raging hormones, but holding him felt good, like I was home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I knew my wistful thoughts were on the money when my body responded to his instantly. My cock was hardening and unless I missed my guess, so was Dillinger’s. This was wrong on so many levels. There was so much I needed to say to the man I was holding in my arms, but the only thought running through my head, on a loop, was. “Kiss him!”</span></div>
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<b>ABOUT THE AUTHOR</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Sick of the slogging rat-race of her 9-5 job, Pandora Pine put pen to paper (literally!) to make her ambition of becoming a romance novelist a reality. She cut her teeth in the dog-eat-dog world of fan fiction, still dreaming of the day when she would be a published author. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">In her spare time, Pandora fancies herself an amateur nature photographer. She enjoys mucking around in swamps, hiking through the woods and crawling around on her hands and knees in her backyard seeking out the perfect shot. Pandora is a fan of roadside seafood shacks and always thinks Mexican food is a good idea at the time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Some of Pandora's favorite things are chocolate, writing longhand with purple pens, and handsome men falling in love with each other.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">FB Author: </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PandoraPine/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/PandoraPine/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Amazon Author: <a href="http://bit.ly/PandoraPine">http://bit.ly/PandoraPine</a></span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-35565008554052260862019-06-17T08:00:00.000-04:002019-06-17T08:00:05.772-04:00Release Blitz: Excerpt + Review - CHANGE OF HEART by K. M. Neuhold<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Change of Heart RDB Banner" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2601" height="360" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/change-of-heart-rdb-banner.jpg" width="640" />
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<b>Change of Heart</b></div>
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<b>KM Neuhold</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 06.17.19</b></div>
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<b>Does my husband's heart still miss me now that it beats in the chest of another man?</b></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Lub-dub</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">A heartbeat more familiar than Easton’s own</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Lub-dub</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">He vowed to love his husband until death do they part. And then the worst happened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">His heart kept another man alive. River. A stranger in the world with Easton's husband's heart pumping the blood that warms his skin. Does his heart ever miss Easton without knowing why?</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Lub-dub</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Sweet, kind, beautiful, River. Easton never meant to meet him...never meant to know him...never meant to fall for him.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Lub-dub</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Easton loved River's heart long before he ever met him, but is it possible he’s falling in love with his mind and soul too?</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">***Change of Heart is a stand alone story with strong hurt/comfort themes, mild bisexual awakening themes, and a HEA.</span></i></div>
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<b>Universal Link: </b><b><a href="http://mybook.to/ChangeofHeart">mybook.to/ChangeofHeart</a></b></div>
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<b>Review</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlkiXs8F_X7onzNerfvjryGMSI0oUmmdwfPCL3byta4iZy3Rkia_EG_i8FYR6S8jJp2LpAGenOHKZGQ4mQh7MfF7laNGgaxFghPcOVdY1t5qD-QOJGbik0fYBYk2ZQRcidc7P27zxO-AR/s1600/5-star-lt+purple.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="304" data-original-width="1600" height="37" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlkiXs8F_X7onzNerfvjryGMSI0oUmmdwfPCL3byta4iZy3Rkia_EG_i8FYR6S8jJp2LpAGenOHKZGQ4mQh7MfF7laNGgaxFghPcOVdY1t5qD-QOJGbik0fYBYk2ZQRcidc7P27zxO-AR/s200/5-star-lt+purple.png" width="200" /></a></div>
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<b>FIVE HEART STOPPING STARS!!</b></div>
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This just might be the most emotional story I have read from K. M. Neuhold to date and I've just about read all her books. I absolutely love everything about this book. I mean seriously, 4% in and I was already crying. I'm such a fan of this author's writing. Her ability to create such beautiful emotion page after page and you feel it within yourself is such an amazing talent.</div>
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It's really hard to convey how truly wonderful and beautiful this story is. I feel like there are no words that will do it justice. K. M. Neuhold really dug deep into the feels with Easton and River's journey. The strength of love Easton has for his late husband is so powerful yet so sad because of his struggle to move on. It really tugged at my heart strings. I felt that struggle and his internal battle with guilt for growing feelings for someone else. </div>
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This book really touched me and tissues were definitely needed. I probably cried way more than I should have while reading this, lol, but it was just so damn beautiful. Not only does this story take you through grieving and mourning the loss of someone so deeply loved but finding someone that makes you want to love and live again. I was so captivated and devoured this in one sitting.</div>
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All these emotions and yet there's still River. Sweet, sweet River and his struggles and challenges. To try and live everyday and be thankful to be alive but not really living. My gawd, this author pulled me through so many emotions. She ripped my heart apart from the very beginning and ever so slowly put it back together piece by piece. </div>
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Easton and River's journey is heartwarming and beautiful and sweet and loving. An absolute phenomenal and amazing read. I know I keep using the word beautiful but it utterly and truly is a beautiful story.</div>
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Kudos Mrs. Neuhold, you truly have an amazingly beautiful and magical gem with this one. </div>
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*** ARC provided in exchange for an honest review ***</div>
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<b>Excerpt</b></div>
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He licks his lips, and I can’t take another second of not knowing what they taste like, what they would feel like against mine, so I lean in, closing the space between us. His breath fans over my lips, his eyelids lowering to half-mast as he waits to see what’s going to happen next. I’m not sure if I’m giving him time to push me away or simply savoring the anticipation—probably a little of both.<br /><br />Easton makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, his nose brushing against mine before our lips are pressed together. Fully, firmly, irrevocably, I’m kissing a man, and my heart starts to soar. I drag my hands through his hair, grasping his head to pull him closer as our mouths move in tandem. There are no tongues, no groping hands or rutting bodies, like in my dreams; it’s simply our lips learning the feel of each other and somehow, it’s the hottest kiss I’ve had in my life.<br /><br />When my lips part to deepen the kiss, the salty taste of tears finds its way into my mouth, and I pull back to find wet tracks down Easton’s blushing cheeks.<br /><br />“Oh god, I’m sorry, should I not have done that?” I pull my hands away, my gut twisting with guilt at how much pleasure I took from a kiss he clearly didn’t want.<br /><br />“No, it’s not you,” he assures me, reaching for my hand again and linking our fingers. “It’s…it’s complicated.”<br /><br />“I’m the first person you’ve kissed since Paul?” I guess.<br /><br />“Yes,” he admits. “But, it’s more than that.”<br /><br />“Tell me?”<br /><br />A sad smile crosses his lips, and he lifts his free hand to my face, cupping my jaw and dragging his thumb along my cheek. “God help me, I do want you.” His words almost seem more for himself than for me, but they light a desperate longing in the pit of my stomach.<br /><br />“You can have me,” I whisper, turning my head and pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb. <br /><br />“Whatever is so complicated it can’t be more important than the way you make me feel. Tell me you feel it too.”<div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Author K.M. Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she's not writing she's a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero...just kidding, she's likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.</span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-5169962828504634162019-06-15T09:30:00.000-04:002019-06-15T14:34:23.988-04:00Blog Tour w/ Excerpt: PUZZLE PIECES by JP Sayle<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Puzzle Pieces</b></div>
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<b>La Trattoria Di Amore Series, Book 1</b></div>
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<b>JP Sayle</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 05.17.19</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Sebastian Smythe is an accomplished chef and restaurateur with several businesses and has the perfect life. That is until his long-term partner decides he no longer wants to be with him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Suffering the devastation and loss of his “boy,” Sebastian struggles to let go of the past and move on and find someone new with his ex’s shadow still hanging over him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Richie Bellinger has his life mapped out for him by his girlfriend. A career in management once he’s completed his masters at university. Then marriage, followed with a house and two point four kids, and they’d all live happily ever after. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Only the universe seems to have other plans for him. With his mother diagnosed with breast cancer and his father having done a runner, Richie finds himself dropping out of uni and applying for the position of office assistant at the restaurant, La Trattoria Di Amore, to earn money to pay the mounting bills. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Richie’s well-organised life is turned on its head when he meets the enigmatic Sebastian. All the things Richie thought he knew about himself and what he wanted are challenged at every turn. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Will these two learn that there is more to life if they just let go? Can they both accept each other, slot the puzzle pieces of their lives together, and reform their future?</span></div>
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<b><i>Daddy Kink/Age Gap/Gay For You/Angst/Slow burn</i></b></div>
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<b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Puzzle-Pieces-Trattoria-Amore-Book-ebook/dp/B07RFRLS7Q/">https://www.amazon.com/Puzzle-Pieces-Trattoria-Amore-Boo…/…/</a></i></b></div>
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<b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Puzzle-Pieces-Trattoria-Amore-Book-ebook/dp/B07RFRLS7Q/">https://www.amazon.co.uk/Puzzle-Pieces-Trattoria-Amore-B…/…/</a></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">His head shot up, and he twisted his body, his pulse racing. He stared at Daddy, his mind in a complete fuddle as to what had just happened. As Richie glanced down his body at his limp cock, his cheeks heated. He was positive they now matched his flaming arse.<br /><br />He groaned and buried his head back in the pillow.<br /><br />“We’ll have less of that, boy. There will be no hiding from me. Not now, not ever. I won’t tolerate it. Do you understand?”<br /><br />Richie looked up, meeting Daddy’s heated stare, grateful he lay belly down so Daddy couldn’t see how his body reacted to his “Daddy voice.” You are so fucked.<br /><br />He ignored the voice in his head stating the obvious and answered, “Yes, Daddy.”<br /><br />“Good boy. Now lie back down so I can rub in the coconut oil cream I found in the bathroom. You’ll feel a little tender for a few days.”<br /><br />Richie heard the humour and smug satisfaction in Daddy’s voice as he did as he was told. He squirmed at the cold of the silky cream on the warmth of Daddy’s hand when it touched his overheated skin. Sensations spread down the crack of his arse. He spread apart his legs in an invitation. He wondered where the boldness came from, but Richie didn’t question it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Let me introduce myself, my name is Jayne, I’m a lady of a certain age (50, bites fingernails). I am an identical twin, the younger one of course by 7 minutes. I am married to a wonderfully complicated man, or as he puts it, off his rocker Rob. We celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary recently. I have one daughter and two grandbabies one boy and one girl.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I was born in the Isle of Man; this makes me Manx (not British or English). I moved to the UK for several years, and as a child, I lived in Italy for a while. But, the island calls to me so I returned home in 1998. I love the sea and now it’s only a stone’s throw from my home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I have worked in the caring profession for 34 years and have been a hospital nurse manager, out of hours, for the past couple of years. I made the decision to work part time nights in 2016 so that I could pursue my lifelong dream of becoming a writer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I have always believed that I could and would write a book, but life just seemed to get in the way. Until someone asked me the question, “What do I want?” The answer was easy, the hard part was making it happen. Well, it did and it has and it was life-changing for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">So over two years later, my career path has changed and so has my life. I found my happiness again in something that just brightens my day. Now I won’t say it’s been a breeze because those who write know it’s not a total blast all the time, but it has been fun and exciting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I am asked a lot why did I choose to write a gay romance. I went to a creative writing group (couldn’t recommend this enough for new writers); anyway, the course leader gave me these words of advice. “Put your inner critic aside, put pen to paper and just write, don’t worry about what comes out, just write.” I was a bit, really that works, but I decided to give it a go with it. Ignored all the research I did, which said to write about what you know because that just wasn’t working for me for many reasons. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">The answer it seemed was to try something different and I found it flowed out and 6 weeks later I had the bones of my first book (113,000 words). Writing something so different to what I was doing in my life, freed me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">My island is steeped in folklore and I have used some of this in my writing, particularly Where it all Began: Manx Cat Guardians Origins. The book, I have to say I love the most, if I had to choose right now, but that might change ☺</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Writing has unleashed a beast in my mind and now I can’t switch it off. I follow a lot of authors and I listen to them talking about their characters talking to them. I so get this now, I find myself muttering and talking at odd times. I wake up at 3 am in the morning, with bits of story wanting a voice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I have six books written currently with two more in the pipeline and a couple of ideas for future series, so you never know what will come next. I have lots of places you can stalker me if you’re interested in finding out more. </span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-46098898476919440262019-06-15T09:00:00.000-04:002019-06-15T14:12:25.121-04:00Release Blitz: Excerpt + Giveaway - MELTING FOR YOU by A.M. Arthur<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Melting For You</b></div>
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<b>Neighborhood Shindig Series, Book #1</b></div>
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<b>A.M. Arthur</b></div>
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<b>Contemporary MM Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 06.13.19</b></div>
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<b>Cover Designer: Sloan J Designs/</b><b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/sloanjdesigns/">https://www.facebook.com/sloanjdesigns/</a></b></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">After his father’s heart attack, Isaiah Morrell gave up cooking in his own high-end Atlanta restaurant to return home to Reynolds, North Carolina, in order to help his father Thomas heal and to keep an eye on his business Neighborhood Shindig. A collection of food trucks and other small businesses, Shindig is a popular destination in this college town, but Isaiah longs for the fast pace of a big-city kitchen. Until he meets Joel…</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Joel Fisher has been out of commission from a serious illness for the better part of a year, but now he’s ready to reclaim his life—except his apartment has been sublet, his partner is missing, and their shared food truck is stripped of everything not attached. In short, Joel has nothing. After an uncomfortable night sleeping on the food truck floor, Isaiah and Thomas Morrell give Joel an offer he can’t refuse: a rented room in their house, as well as their help creating a new food truck concept. Joel hates accepting charity, but he’s hit rock bottom and has nowhere to go but up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Working with seemingly uptight Isaiah is actually pretty fun, and the pair bonds over a challenge to create a unique grilled cheese sandwich. Light flirting melts into a deeper connection neither man expects, but Isaiah isn’t in Reynolds for much longer, and Joel can’t get attached to the gorgeous professional chef. As Isaiah’s feelings for Joel strengthen and grow, he entertains the idea of staying in Neighborhood Shindig for good—but Joel hasn’t asked him to…</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Welcome to Neighborhood Shindig, a friendly place where you can snack on a lamb kebab while getting your hair done, pick up your favorite herbal tea blend, and then go listen to live music under the pavilion. We’re happy to have you.</span></div>
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<b><a href="http://getbook.at/MeltingForYou">getbook.at/MeltingForYou</a></b></div>
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<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-cf2c0428-7fff-62c3-cd3a-d78decf4d6a4" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Joel found a parking spot near his building and got out, grateful to stretch sore, aching limbs. Long car rides were more difficult for him now, and he’d tried to stop as infrequently as possible, so eager to surprise Steve. Joel scanned the lot for Steve’s hatchback. It was midday on Tuesday, so the Shindig lot was closed—it gave not only the small business owners who rented pods, but also the owner/manager one full day off a week. Didn’t mean Steve had to be home, though.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Their unit was on the fourth floor, no elevator, and Joel hated that he was panting a bit by the time he got there. Definitely needed to start working out more, get back into shape. He was already tall and lean, but he’d lost about fifteen pounds of muscle this past year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Excitement rolled through his belly as he put his key into their unit’s lock and turned—except it didn’t unlock. He double-checked, but yeah, right door and right key.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That’s weird.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Maybe Steve had needed to change the locks for some reason? He pushed the doorbell and waited, trying to fight back a big smile. The knob rattled and a chain slid back. The door opened about a foot and a dark-haired woman stared at him. “Can I help you?” she asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Joel blinked hard. “Um, does Steve Winslow live here?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Don’t I live here?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not since the first of the month,” the woman replied. “He had to move suddenly, so I’m sub-leasing it through the end of the month, until my place is ready downstairs. Who are you?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Joel. I live here.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, right, you’re the ex he mentioned.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ex?” Ex what? He’d texted Steve yesterday about frivolous things, and Steve hadn’t said a damned thing about sub-leasing their place. A place Joel had paid this month’s rent on. “What do you mean ex?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He said you guys broke up, so you moved back to live with your parents in Virginia, and he’s moving…somewhere, I don’t think he said where. But your stuff is still here. He packed it up and left it in the hall closet.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Joel did not understand what was happening right now. “We didn’t break up. We have a business together for God’s sake. I don’t understand.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Listen, do you want to come inside and sit? You look pale.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Um, yeah, thanks.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The apartment was small, one-bedroom and only about six hundred square feet. It had come furnished, so none of the big stuff was his, and he’d taken clothing and his electronics with him to Virginia. Those personal things were in his car right now, waiting to be unpacked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He sat on the familiar sofa, legs suddenly trembling, and tried to wrap his brain around what was happening. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The woman appeared with a bottle of water. “Here. I’m Emily, by the way.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Joel.” Had he already said that? “Steve never told me he moved out.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, wow, that’s harsh. He ditched your place without telling you?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“At least the lease isn’t up until August.” It gave him time to plan, even if it meant a strange female roommate for a few weeks. He couldn’t really afford the place on his own, and he still had no clue what was going on with the food truck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Um…” Emily chewed on her bottom lip. “The lease is month-to-month. It’s over in, like ten days, and I have a document with the landlord stating I’m the tenant.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Joel gaped. “But…this is my place.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“My place, dude, and no offense, but I do not know you, and I make it a point not to live with strange men.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How the hell can he change the lease without me…signing…? Fuck.” Because he dealt with college students, the building’s manager had multiple lease options. Year-long, which is what Joel always signed, but also college-term leases that lasted the length of the college’s school year, and then month-to-month options for the summer, or for temporary tenants. When Steve said he’d renewed the lease last summer while Joel was sick, Joel had assumed he’d done another full-year contract.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Joke’s on me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If you don’t believe me, I can get a copy of the lease,” Emily said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I believe you. I just don’t understand why he’d do this. Why he wouldn’t at least call and tell me he was leaving, or that if I came back I’d be homeless.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">A.M. Arthur was born and raised in the same kind of small town that she likes to write about, a stone's throw from both beach resorts and generational farmland. She's been creating stories in her head since she was a child and scribbling them down nearly as long, in a losing battle to make the fictional voices stop. She credits an early fascination with male friendships (bromance hadn't been coined yet back then) with her later discovery of and subsequent love affair with m/m romance stories. A.M. Arthur's work is available from Carina Press, SMP Swerve, and Briggs-King Books.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">When not exorcising the voices in her head, she toils away in a retail job that tests her patience and gives her lots of story fodder. She can also be found in her kitchen, pretending she's an amateur chef and trying to not poison herself or others with her cuisine experiments.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Email: </span><a href="mailto:am_arthur@yahoo.com"><span style="font-weight: 400;">am_arthur@yahoo.com</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Site: </span><a href="http://amarthur.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://amarthur.blogspot.com/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Twitter </span><a href="http://twitter.com/am_arthur"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://twitter.com/am_arthur</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Tumblr </span><a href="http://www.tumblr.com/blog/am-arthur"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://www.tumblr.com/blog/am-arthur</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Newsletter: </span><a href="https://vr2.verticalresponse.com/s/signupformynewsletter16492674416904"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://vr2.verticalresponse.com/s/signupformynewsletter16492674416904</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/A.M.Arthur.M.A"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/A.M.Arthur.M.A</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook group Pot O Gold: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/300209733646247/">https://www.facebook.com/groups/300209733646247/</a></span></div>
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<b>Giveaway</b></div>
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<b><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="c86a9670154" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/c86a9670154/" id="rcwidget_nsy5jxta" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></b></div>
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Hosted by</div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-13764024469538823942019-06-11T09:00:00.000-04:002019-06-11T20:35:54.906-04:00Release Blitz w/ Excerpt - FINDING ALEXANDER by Pandora Pine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-jzBDYgkkV8YBKwz8wuKs06Ll_6samUhAuNsCFzshVUWGEjZf8g6f_kkwZ9mDFZlNDkrzFEPMUh2UHCWeFIIx3kwiiFPImOsvjdB6SbbYm0nPjhB1vhhycj7pwXqxCYYAeqy0dGycXX0/s1600/Finding+Alexander+RDB+Banner_Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="669" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-jzBDYgkkV8YBKwz8wuKs06Ll_6samUhAuNsCFzshVUWGEjZf8g6f_kkwZ9mDFZlNDkrzFEPMUh2UHCWeFIIx3kwiiFPImOsvjdB6SbbYm0nPjhB1vhhycj7pwXqxCYYAeqy0dGycXX0/s640/Finding+Alexander+RDB+Banner_Final.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>Finding Alexander</b></div>
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<b>Pandora Pine</b></div>
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<b> Gay Romance/ Action-Adventure</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 06.11.19</b><strong>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJXN9fA45TIFV2pckMeF-DmAVB0N7UUVtSb_tEuy-yfOmeYtASEj6T1FgpFSNi1pUBzHLgi6FlTmu1FFpIihA2ia_D1aTOxRqU5IJE8XKYwW0z24RxhrIFV1lCQkvruZHvi8_wk90UcDD/s1600/Finding+Alexander+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJXN9fA45TIFV2pckMeF-DmAVB0N7UUVtSb_tEuy-yfOmeYtASEj6T1FgpFSNi1pUBzHLgi6FlTmu1FFpIihA2ia_D1aTOxRqU5IJE8XKYwW0z24RxhrIFV1lCQkvruZHvi8_wk90UcDD/s640/Finding+Alexander+Cover.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<b>Blurb</b></div>
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Indiana Jones meets Clark Kent in this modern-day treasure hunt.</div>
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Archaeologist Cairo Vanderbilt was born to be a treasure hunter, whether he liked it or not. When his famous father dies in search of the tomb of Alexander the Great, Cairo picks up the trail to find the world's most famous lost treasure. Having failed once before, he's determined to find Alexander’s remains and fulfill his family's legacy.</div>
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History blogger Dillinger DeCosta has only written about the past from the safety of his South Boston office. After hearing Cairo speak about the coming expedition on the evening news, he wants to join the hunt for Alexander and finally be on the front lines of history-in-the-making. By offering to come along, Dillinger is taking a huge risk, but he's banking on an even bigger reward.</div>
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Hot on Alexander’s trail, Cairo and Dillinger discover sparks between them that ignite unexpectedly. One of the men has a secret that may threaten not only the success of the expedition, but their new relationship as well. If they can't find a way past the challenge that lies between them, they might just lose the greatest treasure of all.</div>
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Each other</div>
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getbook.at/FindingAlexander</div>
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<strong><img alt="Finding Alexander Teaser 1" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2585" height="233" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/finding-alexander-teaser-1.jpg" width="400" /></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhFaUmTBHBPQeLXwJ9ZNwc7zjr-N1whQcJPNaGH8RdGT5FxL6ppSdEkg-Sp5LGFy6JvmTX1pTpOX-jPsrRnloVSRlScFyRCj4DdX4DCGu5p3gnKJz3nSCc5VQSFYrG-y4V7JRrhqSdcJt/s1600/Finding+Alexander+Teaser+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1096" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhFaUmTBHBPQeLXwJ9ZNwc7zjr-N1whQcJPNaGH8RdGT5FxL6ppSdEkg-Sp5LGFy6JvmTX1pTpOX-jPsrRnloVSRlScFyRCj4DdX4DCGu5p3gnKJz3nSCc5VQSFYrG-y4V7JRrhqSdcJt/s400/Finding+Alexander+Teaser+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Excerpt</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ringing doorbell ended my marathon. Pissed that the goddess Jane Fonda would have to wait until I dispatched my uninvited guest, I shoved off the covers and shuffled slowly to the front door as the bell dinged twice more. I hadn’t called for take-out, so I knew whoever was on the other side of the door was trouble. What I didn’t know was what brand of trouble was waiting for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Throwing the door open, I saw a clean-shaven, yet angry version of myself. Memphis was the last person I wanted to see today. Well, he and my mother were tied for that distinction. They were both the last people I wanted to see today. I may have lucked out with Memphis. It was so much easier to deal with anger over tears. “Memphis, what can I do for you?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You mean aside from providing proof of life?”My brother pushed past me with a sigh. “Jesus Christ, Cairo! What the hell is going on here?”Obviously, Memphis had found my leaning tower of pizza boxes in the living room. At last count there were thirteen boxes in the stack. Lucky number thirteen. Whoops…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You got your proof of life. Here I am.”I threw my arms wide to emphasize the point.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You call this life?”Memphis echoed my movement. “Empty pizza boxes and greasy fast food sacks? Your phone shoved in between cushions of the couch?”He held the phone up like he’d just discovered a lost treasure. Which it was, but not the kind that would land in the Vanderbilt Wing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That must mean the hot wings made it into the fridge. Joy! “I’m sorry you disapprove. You’re not exactly turning the world on with your smile.”A cheap shot, but I wasn’t the one who invited him here. He showed up on his own.</span></div>
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<b>ABOUT THE AUTHOR</b></div>
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Sick of the slogging rat-race of her 9-5 job, Pandora Pine put pen to paper (literally!) to make her ambition of becoming a romance novelist a reality. She cut her teeth in the dog-eat-dog world of fan fiction, still dreaming of the day when she would be a published author.</div>
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In her spare time, Pandora fancies herself an amateur nature photographer. She enjoys mucking around in swamps, hiking through the woods and crawling around on her hands and knees in her backyard seeking out the perfect shot. Pandora is a fan of roadside seafood shacks and always thinks Mexican food is a good idea at the time.</div>
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Some of Pandora's favorite things are chocolate, writing longhand with purple pens, and handsome men falling in love with each other.</div>
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FB Author: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/PandoraPine/">https://www.facebook.com/PandoraPine/</a></div>
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Amazon Author: bit.ly/PandoraPine</div>
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IG: <a href="https://instagram.com/authorpandorapine?igshid=a4v335uindzt">https://instagram.com/authorpandorapine</a>/</div>
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Hosted by</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZj6j4SPu1HaX5LIKlQWV4GNj-XDpv06LqlVKLETadwe14w_WN1J6p_UlXk3OJu4S6DukDeJqmD9NTKzCvSbVofilkJmFhuo3eqSQiMAwBDXypszkMCu8hqtUeIBFjYPa-TKOm9A3Wom-v/s1600/8c5b49_4d6f8b217dd5415ab035cef5543a16fd_mv2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="630" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZj6j4SPu1HaX5LIKlQWV4GNj-XDpv06LqlVKLETadwe14w_WN1J6p_UlXk3OJu4S6DukDeJqmD9NTKzCvSbVofilkJmFhuo3eqSQiMAwBDXypszkMCu8hqtUeIBFjYPa-TKOm9A3Wom-v/s320/8c5b49_4d6f8b217dd5415ab035cef5543a16fd_mv2.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b> </b></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-30283161545350796192019-06-05T09:00:00.000-04:002019-06-05T19:01:14.482-04:00BLOG TOUR: Excerpt + Review + Giveaway - KEEPING CADE by SE Jakes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img alt="Keeping Cade Tour Banner" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2573" height="233" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/keeping-cade-tour-banner.jpg" width="640" />
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<b>Keeping Cade</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Crave Series, Book 1</b></div>
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<b>SE Jakes</b></div>
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<b>Gay Menage Romance</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Release Date: 05.24.19</b><br />
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<img alt="Keeping Cade Cover" class="alignnone wp-image-2552" height="422" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/keeping-cade-cover.jpg" width="281" /><br />
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<b>BLURB</b><br />
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Protection has its price, but so do fantasies…</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: 400;">Fantasy Week happens twice a year at Crave, and it’s always a big hit—a way to live out your wildest fantasy in a safe, sane, and consensual manner.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">But when Cade comes in with his Fantasy Week invitation, he’s not happy about it. He’s stoic as hell and his preferences don’t seem to match his fantasy at all…and yet, despite that, he enjoys himself with Tegan and Vic. At least at first.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">When it becomes glaringly apparent that the fantasy isn’t something Cade’s comfortable with, it’s confusing for the men he’s been paired with, and Tegan and Vic put a stop to the scene immediately.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">What Cade doesn’t know is that Tegan and Vic are not only co-owners of Crave, but they’re also owners of a mercenary group, Gray Ops, that’s run out of Crave. They’ve also been circling each other for years… but nothing sparks until their session with Cade.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">What happened in Room 4 is something none of the men can forget…but it’s got nothing to do with a fantasy and everything to do with blackmail. Can Tegan and Vic help Cade keep his secrets, while keeping all of them safe at the same time? Because the threatening to spill out aren’t only Cade’s…</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">*This series is set in the</span></i> <a href="https://sejakes.com/connected-books/men-of-honor/"><b><i>MEN OF HONOR world</i></b></a><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">,</span></i><i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> in the bar called Crave from Bound By Honor</span></i><br />
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<a href="http://mybook.to/KeepingCade"><b>mybook.to/KeepingCade</b></a><b> (Universal Amazon Link)</b><br />
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<img alt="Keeping Cade Teaser 3" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2575" height="273" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/keeping-cade-teaser-3.jpg" width="400" />
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<img alt="Keeping Cade Teaser 1" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2551" height="265" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/keeping-cade-teaser-1.jpg" width="400" />
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<b>Review</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqK0Upxdn6yLGxZC_6kuxU7B8UWU6F5Z-3NfkO6MBtHiACyIIFfTHBivouZoG9ei9YliQnwh-EpUVvWMwYmh3-62Is8zUJzil2HkomU64cz561qmAGXempAqRyRIFJZunPvAgASv_QzT6/s1600/aqua-stars-four.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="85" data-original-width="335" height="81" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqK0Upxdn6yLGxZC_6kuxU7B8UWU6F5Z-3NfkO6MBtHiACyIIFfTHBivouZoG9ei9YliQnwh-EpUVvWMwYmh3-62Is8zUJzil2HkomU64cz561qmAGXempAqRyRIFJZunPvAgASv_QzT6/s320/aqua-stars-four.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>4 STARS!! </b><br />
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This is a new to me author and when I read the blurb, I was instantly intrigued. I love two hot guys but add a third and I'm all over that. </div>
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The beginning started off a little weary to me but as I kept reading the more interesting the story became. After you start to really understand what's going on the story flows filled with suspense, action and tons of sexual chemistry. </div>
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Cade, Tegan and Vic doesn't seem like the perfect fit but it worked well for them. I like how the author slowly unraveled each MC's back history one at a time as opposed to just one jumbled traumatizing conversation between these three guys. </div>
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There are also secondary characters that were equally intriguing and I can't wait to see what the author creates next in this series. </div>
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Overall, I enjoyed reading Cade, Teagan and Vic's journey. It was definitely hot AF and a great read. </div>
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*** ARC provided in exchange for an honest review ***</div>
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<b>Excerpt</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Am I being chauffeured or can I take my own truck?” Cade asked as they walked out the back door of Crave, leaving behind Oz’s yells of “I can’t promise what I’ll do if you leave me alone with him.” <br /><br />“We’ll drive you,” Tegan told him. <br /><br />“Why don’t you just carry me across the threshold of the fight club when we get there?” Cade muttered. <br /><br />“Didn’t know you needed that level of romance,” Vic said seriously. “I’ll keep it in mind.” <br /><br />Cade sighed heavily and got into the back seat with Vic, while Tegan drove. He guessed it was for protection, and arguing wouldn’t change a damned thing. He needed to preserve his strength anyway. <br /><br />Vic handed him a Gatorade and a PowerBar. “Eat up.” <br /><br />Cade muttered, “Fucking starving and this shit tastes like cardboard.” <br /><br />“Fight first, then I’ll get you a goddamned buffet,” Vic promised. <br /><br />“There’s a McDonald’s on the corner,” Cade pointed out hopefully. <br /><br />“You had an entire pizza recently,” Vic reminded him. <br /><br />“Recently to me is the last hour.” Cade bit into the PowerBar and stared at Vic. “I think this went bad.” <br /><br />Vic frowned. “They can’t go bad.”</span><div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">SE Jakes writes m/m romance. She believes in happy endings and fighting for what you want in both fiction and real life. She lives in New York with her family and most days, she can be found happily writing (in bed). No really…</span><br />
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-74919023682163547862019-06-03T08:00:00.000-04:002019-06-03T23:41:18.697-04:00Release Blitz: Excerpt + Giveaway - COLD LIGHT by Michelle Frost<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Cold Light: Assassins </b></div>
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<b>Criminal Delights Series, Book 14</b></div>
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<b>Michelle Frost</b></div>
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<b>Dark M/M Romance, Assassins, Motorcycle Club</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 06.03.19</b></div>
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<b><img alt="Michelle FrostColdLights-f" class=" wp-image-2569 aligncenter" height="554" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/michelle-frostcoldlights-f.jpg" width="369" /></b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Being an assassin wasn’t something Lexington Campbell ever envisioned for himself, but after spending eight years doing just that, he’s prepared to take his place at the table of his father’s motorcycle club, The Iron Heretics. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Arden spends his nights dancing on stage at Spritz, one of St. Louis’s hottest night clubs, and waiting for Lex to pass back through town. After being orphaned young, he fears letting himself get too attached to the distant, bearded Lex, even after three years of inviting the man into his bed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">When Lex finds himself with a price on his head, he unknowingly pulls Arden into the darkness with him. When things aren’t what they seem, and enemies abound, will they find themselves still standing together in the cold light of day?</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Warnings: attempted sexual assault, blood, graphic violence, morally dubious characters</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://getbook.at/ColdLightCD">http://getbook.at/ColdLightCD</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Lex?” Arden’s voice was worried and he spun to find his lover at the bottom of the stairs looking adorably rumpled, with his blond hair sticking out every which way, and his long pale legs bare and sticking out of the bottom of one of Lex’s t-shirts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A flare of panic lit in his chest, but he quickly extinguished it. He wouldn’t let prejudice or his father’s decade old warning stop him from acknowledging Arden for exactly what he was: </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">his. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Baby, this is Mace,” he pointed to Mace. “And…” he trailed off as he turned to the other men, all three of them staring at Arden like teenage boys at a wet t-shirt contest. “Hey,” he barked, voice deep and commanding. “Mind reeling in your tongues and introducing yourselves?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mace laughed beside him, setting the mugs on the table and walking over to Arden. Lex felt the tic in his jaw, but held himself in check, no matter how badly he wanted to walk over there and step between them. “You’ll have to forgive us,” Mace said, charm that Lex knew he wielded like a weapon in full effect. “We didn’t realize Lex had company. I’m Mace, taught your boy everything he knows. Well, everything interesting anyway.” He winked. “And those three are Larry, Moe, and Curly.” Arden’s eyes went wide, darting between Lex’s face and Mace’s. “I’m just shitting you. They’re Axel, Waylon, and Damon. And you are?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Arden,” he said holding out his hand for Mace to shake. Of course, shaking wasn’t enough and Mace lifted Arden’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against his knuckles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Mace,” Lex ground out when he lingered over Arden’s fingers a little too long. Mace released him with a smug look at Lex, but took a step back. “Give us a minute, would you?” he asked Mace and the room at large. The other three were obviously used to Mace’s flair for the dramatic and had already moved to seat themselves around the table and were pouring cups of coffee. One of them—Axel, maybe—had Pip cradled in his lap. Mace turned back toward the table as well, giving them the illusion of privacy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sorry,” Arden whispered when Lex stepped into his space. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lex pressed a quick kiss to his lips to cut off that line of thought altogether. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. This is our home and we’re not going to hide here. Although,” he glanced down at Arden’s beautifully muscled legs. “Maybe pants would be a good idea.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Arden gave him a small smile. “I’m gonna run up and shower to get this,”—he pointed at his head—“under control. Then I’ll be back down.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Arden disappeared back up the stairs, and Lex was glad no one was standing close enough to see the glimpse of his ass cheeks peeking out from the bottom of those lacy panties he liked to wear sometimes—and under his damned t-shirt too. The man was going to be the death of him. He discreetly adjusted himself before he turned back to the table and Mace lifted an eyebrow at him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not one word,” he warned as he sat down in one of the empty chairs and pulled the coffee pot toward him. As he filled his cup, he kept his eyes on his task, but let his voice take on the low warning tone that would clearly imply exactly what he’d do to any of them if they treated Arden with anything less than respect. He needed to know now if he any of them had a problem with him being gay or Arden being...well, Arden. “If any of you feel like you need to get back on your bikes now that you know—”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Lex,” Mace interrupted him. “The club’s changed a lot since you’ve been gone.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, undoubtedly remembering one of the numerous times the two of them had almost gotten caught with their pants around their ankles. “We’re Heretics. Non-conforming is kind of what we do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Stories have always been Michelle Frost's escape. Even as a kid, she can remember writing stories featuring her favorite cartoon characters. Now, her characters are a little more grown up, as are the stories she likes to tell. A self-proclaimed coffee addict and a bit of an introvert, she can most likely be found at any given time, on any given day with her hands on a keyboard or her nose in a book. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Amazon Author Page: </span><a href="http://author.to/MichelleFrost"><span style="font-weight: 400;">http://author.to/Michelle</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Facebook Page: </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/michellefrostwrites/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/michellefrostwrites/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Bookbub: </span><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/michelle-frost"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.bookbub.com/profile/michelle-frost</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Newsletter: </span><a href="https://www.subscribepage.com/MichelleFrostNewsletter"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.subscribepage.com/MichelleFrostNewsletter</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Twitter: </span><a href="https://twitter.com/MFrostWrites"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://twitter.com/MFrostWrites</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Website: </span><a href="https://www.michellefrostwrites.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.michellefrostwrites.com/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Pinterest: </span><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/michellefrostwrites/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.pinterest.com/michellefrostwrites/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Goodreads: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17778116.Michelle_Frost">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17778116.Michelle_Frost</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">GIVEAWAY</span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-27713844932505409492019-06-02T09:00:00.000-04:002019-06-02T12:33:32.926-04:00New Release Review: BROKEN SILENCE by Felice Stevens<div style="text-align: center;">
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<strong>Title: Broken Silence (Rock Bottom #1)</strong> </div>
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<strong>Author: Felice Stevens </strong></div>
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<strong>Genre: MM Romance</strong> </div>
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<strong>Release Date: May 15, 2019</strong> </div>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45142826-broken-silence?ac=1&from_search=true"><img alt="" class="aligncenter wp-image-662 size-full" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Goodreads-Button-with-Shadow.png" height="45" width="134" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Justin Molina has secrets. He’s served his time but remains a prisoner of his past, unable to forgive himself for failing his family when they needed him most. Justin’s grief is overwhelming, but he keeps silent and focuses on his goals. About to graduate college, he tries to keep his head above water—no matter how many times life keeps knocking him down. When he’s forced to register for a poetry-writing class, Justin discovers putting words to his feelings might be exactly what his fractured heart needs to heal. Or is it the older professor with the bow ties and gentle smile who gives him a chance when no one else will? </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Professor Foster Faraday Harding is a broken man. His divorce is final, and he’s reverted back to the safety of his books. Even his poetry no longer brings him joy; he’s sleepwalking through life. The raw emotion of Justin’s poetry awakens Foster to desires he thought long buried in the ashes of his marriage. When he discovers Justin is struggling financially, Foster offers him a solution that benefits both of them. Soon it’s Foster who’s struggling with emotions he can’t understand: Justin is his student. And a man. One crazy night years earlier doesn’t mean anything. Foster is straight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">After months of denying the growing attraction between them, an unexpected kiss changes everything. Justin and Foster are no longer only professor and student—they’ve become lovers, but the strain of hiding their relationship increases with each passing day. Words have the power not only to hurt but to heal the greatest pain. If Foster and Justin listen to what their hearts are saying, they might break through their silence and live their own love poems—together. </span><br />
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Available in Kindle Unlimited</h3>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><a href="https://amzn.to/2HkLvDV">AMAZON</a> </span></h3>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">REVIEW</span></b><br />
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<b>★★★★ POETIC STARS!!</b><br />
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Oh man. Oh man. I love this book! Gawd...this author just jabs your heart in all the right places. Emotions are pouring out the pages and getting my insides all twisted up one minute to a gooey hot mess the next. </div>
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I loved the pace of this story. It was a nice slow burn that reels you in page after page. Both MC's fight their attraction towards each other because they feel it's the right thing to do. It just slowly progresses and they unravel before the inevitable happens. <br />
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Justin is a delightful surprise. He has this bad boy persona but yet has this whole other side to him that just makes you want to love him more. Then you add in some poetry and I'm a goner! </div>
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Felice Stevens is a brilliant writer and she flawlessly ties in many factors that check off all my boxes. There's age gap, professor/student, slow burn and opposites attract. All that makes for an interesting read. </div>
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Despite all the obstacles, this story was low on angst compared to her other books that usually gut you and put you back together piece by piece but no less amazing. Justin and Foster's journey is super sexy, swoony, and incredibly steamy. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Felice Stevens has always been a romantic at heart. She believes that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending around the corner, Her characters have to work for it, however. Like life in NYC, nothing comes easy and that includes love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Felice has written over twenty books in the gay romance genre. Her books been translated into German, French and Italian. Her novel. One Call Away, part of her Soulmates series, was mentioned in Buzzfeed as one of the best “Out for You” gay romances of 2017. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Felice lives in New York City with her husband and two children. Her day begins with a lot of caffeine and ends with a glass or two of red wine. She recently retired from the practice law and now daydreams of a time when she can sit by a beach somewhere and write beautiful stories of men falling in love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Although there are bound to be a few bumps along the way, a Happily Ever After is always guaranteed.</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.felicestevens.com/"><img alt="" class="alignnone wp-image-704" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Website.png" height="92" width="92" /></a><a href="https://www.facebook.com/felicestevensauthor/"><img alt="" class="alignnone wp-image-501" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/FB-Social-Button-300x300.png" height="92" width="92" /></a><a href="https://twitter.com/FeliceStevens1"><img alt="" class="alignnone wp-image-518" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Twitter-Social-Button-300x300.png" height="92" width="92" /></a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/FeliceStevens/"><img alt="" class="alignnone wp-image-504 size-full" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/IG-Social-Button-e1498045994575.png" height="92" width="92" /></a><br />
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-39375809818001612552019-06-01T10:00:00.000-04:002019-06-01T15:50:13.761-04:00New Release: Excerpt + Review + Giveaway - PRESCRIPTION FOR LOVE by Aimee Nicole Walker<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Prescription for Love</b></div>
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<b>Road to Blissville Series, Book 7</b></div>
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<b>Aimee Nicole Walker</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 05.18.19</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Cover Design: Jay Aheer/</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Simply-Defined-Art-1622658254619778/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/Simply-Defined-Art-1622658254619778/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Photographer: Wander Aguiar</span><span style="font-weight: 400;">/</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://wanderaguiar.com/">http://wanderaguiar.com/</a></span></div>
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<b>BLURB</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">What should’ve been an ordinary emergency call turned out to be something extraordinary. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Wanting to distance himself from his toxic parents, Trent Love moved to the quaint town of Blissville to begin a new life. What he finds is blazing chemistry with a hunky fireman who breathes new life into him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Fearing they’re too different, Tucker attempts to extinguish the spark between them before it can ignite. How could a simple man like him compete with Trent’s life of wealth and privilege? Knowing you shouldn’t want something doesn’t make it go away, and Tucker’s desire for Trent continues to smolder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Unwilling to accept their relationship is dead on arrival, Trent puts his resuscitation skills to good use. All he wants is a chance to prove he values Tucker’s wealth of character over meaningless material things. </span>What do you get when you mix fire and oxygen: a five-alarm fire or a prescription for love?</div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Trent’s commitment to freeing himself from poisonous ties kindles a chain of events that have devastating consequences for both men. Is a relationship forged in fire strong enough to overcome these obstacles or is their love doomed to be just another bitter pill to swallow? </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Prescription for love is a small-town, opposites-attract romance. It is the seventh book in the Road to Blissville series but reads like a standalone book. It contains sexually explicit material intended for adults 18 and older. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://mybook.to/PrescriptionForLove">http://mybook.to/PrescriptionForLove</a></span></div>
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<b>REVIEW </b></div>
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<b>4 1/2 STARS! </b></div>
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We're back in Blissville and my heart is full! Trent and Tucker's journey had me smiling from ear to ear. I absolutely love this world Aimee Nicole Walker has created and all the characters that have evolved in it. </div>
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Trent and Tucker are super sweet and sexy. I loved that they both knew what they wanted from the start and didn't waste any time in showing each other or expressing their feelings and wants. It worked well for them and the author did a really great job of making it come across genuine and not cheesy and forced. You could feel the genuine want and desire from both MC's. </div>
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I truly enjoyed reading this book and loved the low angst and passion throughout the story. I love this author's writing and can't wait to read the next lucky couple she breathes life to. </div>
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*** ARC provided in exchange for an honest review ***</div>
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<b>EXCERPT</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“There’s no way I can watch you squat in those shorts and not get a hard-on.” Trent had been nothing but honest with me, so I gave it right back to him. “We’ll work on our upper body today.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Even with Trent looking deliciously sweaty, I was able to find my zone and work my shoulders, arms, back, and core abdominal muscles. Lifting weights was my version of yoga. I found my Zen and the endorphins pumping through my body would improve my mood and motivate me to keep moving throughout the day. Only when we returned to the locker room did I realize those mood-lifting hormones also amped up my libido. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Did you want to shower here before we go to breakfast or wait until I drop you off at home?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trent looked over his shoulder at the shower room, which had both an open shower area and private stalls for those preferring privacy. We could so easily fit inside one of those stalls and— </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We better wait,” he said, wiping his body down to remove the sweat glistening on his skin. Damn, I wanted to lick him. A little bit of sweat didn’t turn me off at all, but he might think it was gross. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, I want to lick you all over too,” Trent said, correctly reading the expression on my face. “And I will…someday.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Tease,” I groused.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Ever since she was a little girl, Aimee Nicole Walker entertained herself with stories that popped into her head. Now she gets paid to tell those stories to other people. She wears many titles—wife, mom, and animal lover are just a few of them. Her absolute favorite title is champion of the happily ever after. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Love inspires everything she does, music keeps her sane, and coffee is the magic elixir that fuels her day. I’d love to hear from you. </span></div>
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<b>GIVEAWAY</b></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-78466170284088457392019-05-19T09:00:00.000-04:002019-05-19T19:51:31.360-04:00BLOG TOUR: EXCERPT + REVIEW + GIVEAWAY - WANT ME by Neve Wilder<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Want Me</b></div>
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<b>Neve Wilder</b></div>
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<b>M/M New Adult Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 05.08.19</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Two roommates. One calculus exam. A whole lot of extracurricular activity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Nate</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Living with four other guys, it’s bound to happen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Every guy’s been caught taking care of business at least once, right? </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">It shouldn’t be a big deal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">But I don’t know Eric as well as my other roommates, and things are a little awkward now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">He’s a loner. A mystery. Quietly confident. Smart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Sexy as hell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I’ve been happily subsisting on the typical frat guy diet of booze and sorority girls.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">But the way Eric looked at me that night?</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">There was something there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Something that’s got me curious. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Something that’s stirring up feelings I thought I’d left behind for good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Something that’s making me think I’m not as straight as I thought I was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I can’t get him off of my mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I don’t think I want to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">So when he offers to help me study for a midterm I’m convinced I’m going to fail, </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I take him up on it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">It’s innocent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Probably. Maybe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">There’s no way I could’ve known what it’d start...</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">This is a super steamy standalone new adult/college mm romance with HEA that unfolds across six “episodes” following Nate and Eric. Now bundled up in one collection with a bonus episode for a seamless reading experience. 87,000 words.</span></i></div>
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<b>Amazon US: </b><b><a href="http://bit.ly/WantMeNeveWilder">http://bit.ly/WantMeNeveWilder</a></b></div>
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<b>Amazon UK: </b><b><a href="http://bit.ly/WantMeNeveWilder_UK">http://bit.ly/WantMeNeveWilder_UK</a></b></div>
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<b>REVIEW </b></div>
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<b>4 STARS!!</b></div>
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This is a new-to-me author and I'm really glad I read this. This story was packed with plenty of steamy sexy times. This author sure knows how to bring the heat.<br />
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I liked the story line and there was minimal drama and angst. Nate is exploring his sexual desires and Eric definitely has no qualms about helping him. I love Eric's dominance yet he was so patient with Nate. Eric also seems arrogant but has these bits of vulnerability.<br />
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Nate and Eric were not only super sexy but adorable as hell. I loved how they navigated their relationship and the author did a great job showcasing the growth from roommates to lovers. Overall, this was a really good read. </div>
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<b>*** ARC received in exchange for an honest review ***</b></div>
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<b>EXCERPT</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You all right?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, stressed, as usual.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Calculus? I can help.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nope, philosophy this time.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He wrinkled his nose in sympathy, then laced his fingers behind his head. I turned my focus back to the page I was reading, then realized I’d read the same sentence three times in a row. I could feel him watching me, and when I turned my head to check, I was right. His gaze trickled down from the crown of my head to my lap, slow as a drop of water down the glass of the window behind me. My cock jumped in my pants, and I shifted my legs restlessly. The thing needed a leash. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You want some stress relief?” he offered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No.</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> It was on the tip of my tongue to say it, because I was frustrated by the whole situation, but fuck, the way he was sitting there so casually, his legs sprawled, his thickening cock starting to push at his fly… I inhaled deeply through my nose, and as I exhaled, found myself saying, “Like what?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not sure yet,” he mused, posture straightening. He moved to the edge of his seat, scooting his chair in closer so he was right next to me, and even though I kind of knew what was coming, I still flinched when he laid his hand over the top of my thigh.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not right here,” I said, lowering my voice. But fuck if I didn’t widen my legs in the same breath, a taboo thrill running through me at being in public. Shit, regardless of Eric, I was starting to think I really did have a thing for being watched—or the threat of getting caught, at least. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eric palmed my crotch, spreading his fingers over the bulge in my gym shorts. His warmth seeped through the silky mesh fabric and woke my cock right the fuck up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I glanced around. There was no one to either side of us, and behind me was just a bank of windows that looked over the main quad below. But there were a trio of heads in the carrels across from me. I could hear them when they whispered or turned a page in their books, and I had to muffle a growl when Eric tucked his hand behind the waistband of my shorts, grazing his fingertips over my swollen head. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No?” It was practically a purr, and it rolled over my skin like warm oil and flooded me with furiously spreading heat that tightened my balls. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He took my silence for the assent it was, and I clamped my lower lip between my teeth as he wedged his hand deeper into my shorts and wrapped it around the base of my cock, giving it a sharp, pulsing squeeze that made me suck in a breath.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Freeballing?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah,” I stuttered out, my dick jumping in his hand as he squeezed again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Good deal.” He gave me a few light, feathery strokes that had my hips surging up into the contact, and then his hand tightened like a vice around my shaft, thumb tracing my head in a tantalizing sweep as he leaned in. His whisper washed over me like pure, searing desert heat, the ownership in it shooting straight to my core and making me dizzy. “I want that nut you’re working up right now.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Fuck,” I hissed so loud that when I glanced up, I could see the person in the carrel across from me trying to subtly peer over the divider. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hunched over my desktop to conceal the view of Eric’s hand as it plunged deeper, scooping up my balls and kneading them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That sounded like a yes to me.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not here,” I whispered again and yanked his hand from my pants. Even though by then, shit, I was definitely seeing the appeal in letting him get me off right there. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay quiet enough, and though the thrill of possibly getting caught was hot, the reality of a charge for public indecency was not. I needed some ninja skills for that, or a lot more experience, and the whole novelty of getting off with a dude who knew what the hell he was doing was still so keen-edged that I didn’t have a shot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Spoilsport. I was enjoying the challenge, but I guess you’re right.” Eric picked up his sucker again, stuffing the wrapper in his back pocket. “You’re a noisy fucker, so maybe a little more buffer is a good idea. Come on.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Neve Wilder lives in the southern US, where the summers are hot and the winters are...sometimes cold. She is a mom to three rambunctious weebeasts who have joined forces in a mission to carpet the family home with toys and small items that really suck to step on at six in the morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">She reads promiscuously across multiple genres, but her favorite stories always contain an element of romance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Incidentally, this is also what she likes to write. Slow-burners with delicious tension? Yes. Whiplash-inducing page-turners, also yes. Down and dirty scorchers? Yes. And every flavor in between. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">She believes David Bowie was the sexiest musician to ever live, and she's always game to nerd out on anything from music to writing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">And finally, she believes that love conquers all. Except the heat index in July. Nothing can conquer that bastard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Web site: </span><a href="http://www.nevewilder.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.nevewilder.com</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">FB author page: </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/nevewilderwrites"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.facebook.com/nevewilderwrites</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">FB Reader Group: </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/groups/WildersWildOnes"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.facebook.com/groups/WildersWildOnes</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Amazon Author Page: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Neve-Wilder/e/B07HY29JMG"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.amazon.com/Neve-Wilder/e/B07HY29JMG</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Bookbub Author page: </span><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/neve-wilder"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.bookbub.com/authors/neve-wilder</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Goodreads: </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18429115.Neve_Wilder"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18429115.Neve_Wilder</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Instagram: </span><a href="http://www.instagram.com/nevewilder"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.instagram.com/nevewilder</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">GIVEAWAY</span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-23754799380261921822019-05-18T09:30:00.000-04:002019-05-18T22:05:39.639-04:00NEW RELEASE + EXCERPT - PRESCRIPTION FOR LOVE by Aimee Nicole Walker<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Prescription for Love RDB Banner" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2515" height="240" src="https://wordpress2299.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/prescription-for-love-rdb-banner.jpg" width="640" />
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<b>Prescription for Love</b></div>
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<b>Road to Blissville Series, Book 7</b></div>
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<b>Aimee Nicole Walker</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 05.18.19</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Cover Design: Jay Aheer/</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Simply-Defined-Art-1622658254619778/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.facebook.com/Simply-Defined-Art-1622658254619778/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Photographer: Wander Aguiar</span><span style="font-weight: 400;">/</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://wanderaguiar.com/">http://wanderaguiar.com/</a></span></div>
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<b>BLURB</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">What should’ve been an ordinary emergency call turned out to be something extraordinary. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Wanting to distance himself from his toxic parents, Trent Love moved to the quaint town of Blissville to begin a new life. What he finds is blazing chemistry with a hunky fireman who breathes new life into him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Fearing they’re too different, Tucker attempts to extinguish the spark between them before it can ignite. How could a simple man like him compete with Trent’s life of wealth and privilege? Knowing you shouldn’t want something doesn’t make it go away, and Tucker’s desire for Trent continues to smolder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Unwilling to accept their relationship is dead on arrival, Trent puts his resuscitation skills to good use. All he wants is a chance to prove he values Tucker’s wealth of character over meaningless material things. What do you get when you mix fire and oxygen: a five-alarm fire or a prescription for love?</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Trent’s commitment to freeing himself from poisonous ties kindles a chain of events that have devastating consequences for both men. Is a relationship forged in fire strong enough to overcome these obstacles or is their love doomed to be just another bitter pill to swallow? </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Prescription for love is a small-town, opposites-attract romance. It is the seventh book in the Road to Blissville series but reads like a standalone book. It contains sexually explicit material intended for adults 18 and older. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://mybook.to/PrescriptionForLove">http://mybook.to/PrescriptionForLove</a></span></div>
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<b>EXCERPT</b></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Don’t be nervous. Don’t be nervous. Don’t be nervous. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Fuck!”I exclaimed when I drove past Tuck’s house. I looked in my rearview mirror and made sure no one was behind me before putting my car in reverse and backing up so I could pull into his driveway, hoping Tuck hadn’t seen me flake out. At least I stopped a safe distance from his truck instead of ramming into the back of it. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Calm the fuck down. How many chances do you think Tuck will give you, moron?</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I looked at the potted orchid sitting on the passenger seat beside the bag with orchid food and the spray bottle of stuff the lady working at the florist counter recommended I buy. I’d purchased two of everything—one for Shirlene and one for Tucker. Doubt started to creep in, and I started second-guessing my decision to buy him an orchid. Some men liked flowers and others got insulted. I didn’t want him to think I assumed he liked flowers just because he was gay. I just thought they were beautiful and exotic like the way I felt every time Tucker’s eyes devoured me. No one had ever looked at me quite the way he did, and I craved it. Damn it. I was overthinking things again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I took a calming breath and exited the car with the pot in one hand and the bag of supplies in the other. Tucker met me at the door before I had a chance to knock. A wry grin spread across his face. “Did you have trouble finding my house?” </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You don’t get to tease me,”I told him. “If you saw my stupid stunt, then you were watching out the window for me.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">was</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> watching for you,”Tucker admitted shamelessly. “I’ve been looking forward to this since we made plans. I was hoping an emergency didn’t pull you away.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was stunned silent by his confession. What was I expecting from Tucker? Hesitance? Signs of him second-guessing himself? Doubt? The truth was I expected to see all those things warring for dominance in his dark eyes. His honesty startled me and bolstered my courage. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I brought you an orchid.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I see that,”Tuck said, smiling warmly then stepping aside to allow me inside his house.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Ever since she was a little girl, Aimee Nicole Walker entertained herself with stories that popped into her head. Now she gets paid to tell those stories to other people. She wears many titles—wife, mom, and animal lover are just a few of them. Her absolute favorite title is champion of the happily ever after. </span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-21040440048865844562019-05-14T08:00:00.000-04:002019-05-14T20:55:04.958-04:00NEW RELEASE: EXCERPT + REVIEW - STRIKE A CHORD by K.M. Neuhold<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Strike a Chord</b></div>
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<b>Replay Series, Book 4</b></div>
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<b>K.M. Neuhold</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 05.14.19</b></div>
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<b>Blurb:</b></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">“You want to fake date me?”</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Music is my life, my band is my heart and soul, and it’s all falling apart before my eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">A plan hatched from desperation as we both watch our careers burn down around us. Dating my best friend’s twin brother, Paris, who just so happens to be a gay icon at the moment seems like the perfect plan. And if we have a little fun along the way, where’s the harm in that? The band is spiraling, his football career is going up in flames, and the more the world falls down around us, the easier it is to get lost in each other.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">But are stolen moments during our own busy schedules and hurried kisses hidden behind social media posts the basis for a real relationship, or is this just another thing that’s going to turn to dust in our hands?</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">**Strike a Chord is the fourth and final book in the Replay series. This series can be read in any order. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://mybook.to/SaCreplay">http://mybook.to/SaCreplay</a></span></div>
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<b>Review</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0n2i43VZVUWtPPHK_P_1U5IhnvY_1cWOCvO5WQ-8162aIU7mTTPIhlGZREftpnvNxOB6CCFIzwyBmowF_6ZZE2dU_ItZOhs1Mwx3VH64Agv8iXEMluq6NVHWg9acu2nc9uOqqclxF2aPM/s1600/5+star+rainbow.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="190" data-original-width="1040" height="36" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0n2i43VZVUWtPPHK_P_1U5IhnvY_1cWOCvO5WQ-8162aIU7mTTPIhlGZREftpnvNxOB6CCFIzwyBmowF_6ZZE2dU_ItZOhs1Mwx3VH64Agv8iXEMluq6NVHWg9acu2nc9uOqqclxF2aPM/s200/5+star+rainbow.png" width="200" /></a></div>
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<b>FIVE STRIKING STARS!! </b></div>
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I loved everything about this story. This is the fourth and final book of this series and I may not quite be ready to say goodbye to these boys. These characters are just so in need of love and K.M. Neuhold does them justice. </div>
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This author constantly awes me with her writing. These stories just flow so effortlessly. From beginning to end she had me completely captivated. I was awwing, oohing, and breathless from one minute to the next. Benji and Paris were so damn adorable and equally hilarious in their own way. </div>
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I love the whole fake dating scenario. Although Benji and Paris have been long time friends they still didn't really know each other. The ease of the transition from friends to lovers was so incredibly sweet. These two had me all up in my feels. </div>
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Benji and Paris' journey was very low angst and drama. It was super sexy, sweet and a great ending to this series.</div>
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<b>***ARC received in exchange for an honest review***</b></div>
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<b>Excerpt </b></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The strong bassline pounds in my chest, the music becoming a heartbeat all its own as it courses through me. Bodies move around me like an unruly ocean, and I’m lost at sea. Sometimes I hate this feeling, disappearing into the crowd, being nameless and faceless in the dark, pulsing lights of the club. Other times, I crave it like oxygen. For a few brief seconds I’m not a member of the biggest rock band on the planet. I’m not the guy whose face is plastered on magazines and posters and t-shirts. I’m not the person who lays awake at night waiting for the phone call that one of my best friends is dead by their own reckless hand.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I lick my dry lips and lift my drink to them, savoring the burning taste of alcohol on my tongue as I throw the shot back.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Benji!” A familiar voice breaks through the loud drone of club noise. I glance over my shoulder to find Cooper pushing his way through the crowd. He gets surprised and excited looks from people as he shoves them out of the way. Yes, you just got elbowed by a rock star.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Coop,” I greet him, holding my fist up for a bump when he reaches me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What are you doing down here? Come up to VIP,” he says, grabbing my arm and tugging me without waiting for my response.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We get even more wide-eyed looks as he drags me through the horde of bodies toward the stairs that lead to the VIP level. People take in my long blond hair, pulled into a messy bun on the top of my head, the tattoos covering my arms, and they realize who I am, but not soon enough to get a piece of me before I’m whisked away.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ten years and most days it still feels like a dream. If I could go back in time and tell the nerdy thirteen-year-old hiding in the janitor’s closet to keep from getting the shit kicked out of him that one day he’d be a millionaire, playing keyboard for a chart-topping band, he wouldn’t believe it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The way things are going, it won’t be true for long. Thoughts of what’s happening to the band are what drove me out of my quiet apartment tonight, dead set on finding as many distractions as possible. Even if Jude manages to not snort his way to an early grave and Lincoln doesn’t “accidentally” cut himself too deep again and bleed out, we still have the little problem of Lando being unable to write music anymore. It’s starting to feel like one way or another, Downward Spiral isn’t going to make it into the new year, which is only a few weeks away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Author K.M. Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she's not writing she's a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero...just kidding, she's likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.</span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-19288099545274368732019-05-13T08:00:00.000-04:002019-05-13T08:00:04.622-04:00NEW RELEASE: EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY - GIDEON by Lily Morton<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Gideon</b></div>
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<b>Finding Home Series, Book 3</b></div>
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<b>Lily Morton</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 05.12.19</b></div>
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<b>M/M Romance</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Gideon Ramsay is so far in the closet he should be a talking faun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">A talented, mercurial, and often selfish man, Gideon has everything he should want in life. Fame, money, acting awards – he has it all. Everything but honesty. At the advice of his agent, Gideon has concealed his sexuality for years. But it’s starting to get harder to hide, and his increasingly wild behaviour is threatening to destroy his career.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Then he’s laid low by a serious illness and into his life comes Eli Jones. Eli is everything that Gideon can’t understand. He’s sunny tempered, friendly, and optimistic. Even worse, he’s unaffected by grumpiness and sarcasm, which forms ninety percent of Gideon’s body weight. And now Gideon is trapped with him without any recourse to the drugs and alcohol that have previously eased his way through awkward situations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">However, as Gideon gets to know the other man, he finds himself wildly attracted to his lazy smiles and warm, scruffy charm that seem to fill a hole inside Gideon that’s been empty for a long time. Will he give in to this incomprehensible attraction when it could mean the end of everything that he’s worked for? </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">From the bestselling author of the Mixed Messages series comes a story about a man who needs to realise that being true to yourself is really just a form of finding home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://getbook.at/gideon">http://getbook.at/gideon</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />“Round the block?” he intones in a gloomy voice.<br /><br />I nod. “Yes, please.”<br /><br />The car moves off slowly. He examines my face in the mirror. “You okay, sir?”<br /><br />I look up, surprised. “Of course,” I say abruptly. Then I ask, “Why?”<br /><br />He shrugs, returning his attention to the road. “You don’t look so good, Mr Ramsay.”<br /><br />“Oh Russ, you old charmer, you,” I drawl, slugging some more tequila. “What’s with the ‘sir’ and ‘Mr Ramsay’ business anyway?”<br /><br />He ignores the question. He’s more passive-aggressive than Taylor Swift. “You haven’t eaten properly for a few days now,” he says instead in a concerned voice.<br /><br />“I have eaten,” I say crossly.<br /><br />“Tequila and vodka aren’t any of the major food groups.”<br /><br />I shrug. “I had a Pop-Tart this morning.” <br /><br />“You had that yesterday and very charmingly regurgitated it into a jasmine bush earlier on.”<br /><br />“I’m fine,” I say dismissively.<br /><br />“I surely hope you are,” he says wryly. “Because you’ve got your hands full tonight.”<br /><br />I shake my head, thinking of the two men I’m about to get into bed with and looking down at my very disinterested cock. “Russ, you’d need a medium and a séance to bring my dick back to life tonight.”<br /><br />He laughs loudly and then sobers. “Maybe you should call it a night then. Go to bed on your own for a change, sir.”<br /><br />“Okay, Nanny McPhee. And maybe I’d be better with a box of tissues and a wi-fi connection.” I sigh. “Actually, that sounds a lot quieter.” I stare blearily at the back of his grey head. “I hope you also know that tagging the word sir on the end of a sentence doesn’t make it any less bossy.”<br /><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lily writes contemporary romance novels, and specialises in hot love stories with a good dose of humour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lily lives in sunny England with her husband and two children, all of whom claim that they haven’t had a proper conversation with her since she bought her first Kindle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">She has spent her life with her head full of daydreams and decided one day to just sit down and start writing about them. In the process she discovered that she actually loved writing, because how else could she get to spend her time with hot, funny men!</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">She loves chocolate and Baileys and the best of all creations – chocolate Baileys! Her lifetime’s ambition is to have a bath in peace without being shouted by one of her family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">GIVEAWAY</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="c86a9670146" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/c86a9670146/" id="rcwidget_43lksuz2" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-18704448262540947942019-05-08T09:00:00.000-04:002019-05-08T18:50:15.122-04:00Release Blitz + Excerpt: WANT ME by Neve Wilder <div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Want Me</b></div>
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<b>Neve Wilder</b></div>
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<b>M/M New Adult Romance</b></div>
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<b>Release Date: 05.08.19</b></div>
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<em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Two roommates. One calculus exam. A whole lot of extracurricular activity.</span></em></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Nate</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Living with four other guys, it’s bound to happen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Every guy’s been caught taking care of business at least once, right? </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">It shouldn’t be a big deal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">But I don’t know Eric as well as my other roommates, and things are a little awkward now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">He’s a loner. A mystery. Quietly confident. Smart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Sexy as hell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I’ve been happily subsisting on the typical frat guy diet of booze and sorority girls.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">But the way Eric looked at me that night?</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">There was something there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Something that’s got me curious. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Something that’s stirring up feelings I thought I’d left behind for good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Something that’s making me think I’m not as straight as I thought I was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I can’t get him off of my mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I don’t think I want to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">So when he offers to help me study for a midterm I’m convinced I’m going to fail, </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">I take him up on it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">It’s innocent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Probably. Maybe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">There’s no way I could’ve known what it’d start...</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: 400;">This is a super steamy standalone new adult/college mm romance with HEA that unfolds across six “episodes” following Nate and Eric. Now bundled up in one collection with a bonus episode for a seamless reading experience. 87,000 words.</span></i></div>
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<b>Amazon US: </b><a href="http://bit.ly/WantMeNeveWilder"><b>http://bit.ly/WantMeNeveWilder</b></a></div>
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<b>Amazon UK: </b><b><a href="http://bit.ly/WantMeNeveWilder_UK">http://bit.ly/WantMeNeveWilder_UK</a></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just act normal</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, I told myself as I walked into the kitchen the next morning. With four other roommates, the small, brightly lit space was usually a zoo in the a.m., all of us scrambling around each other dumping cereal into bowls, frying eggs, or toasting Pop-Tarts. None of us were gourmands except Jesse, and he grumbled as my elbow knocked his when I passed by the stove where he was making some kind of omelet that smelled delicious. Not that he’d be sharing it with any of us, the greedy bastard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My stomach growled as I headed toward the fridge. After a quick glance around, for a second I thought I was home free. Until I spotted him tucked in the dining nook, dark slashes of hair hiding his face where he sat at the table bent over a textbook. He had his arm curled around it protectively, a pen tapping restlessly against the top of the page. Eric. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shit</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As if he knew I’d stuttered to a stop upon spotting him, he glanced up, met my eyes, and lifted a brow. “’Sup?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I upnodded him and wrenched open the fridge, burying my face inside it as my cheeks flamed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was a perfectly typical greeting between us, and I reminded myself of that as I pulled a carton of milk from the fridge and sniffed it before setting it on the counter and rummaging through the cabinet for some cereal. Any cereal. I didn’t care at that point. I was distracted thinking that Eric was watching me, but when I glanced over my shoulder to check, his attention was drilled into his textbook. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ansel wandered in next, lanky body drenched with sweat from track practice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You’re stinking up the kitchen,” Jesse said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I literally just walked in. You must be smelling your face.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jesse flicked a bit of egg at him, which Ansel picked up from the floor and popped in his mouth while I dumped cereal into my bowl. My other roommate, Mark, grabbed the cereal box from me and stuffed his hand inside, coming out with a handful of Cheerios he tipped into his mouth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Caveman,” I accused, and he grinned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hopped up on the counter to eat and tried not to look over at Eric again. I’d already established that he wasn’t giving me weird looks, so I told myself to relax.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Which pledge should we get to DD for the mixer Thursday?” Mark asked, leaning up against the island across from me. I reached for the empty bowl in his hand and dropped it in the sink next to me, shaking my head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I can’t go. Huge calc midterm Friday, and I’m 90 percent sure I’m going to fail.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Movement in the corner of my eye. Eric glanced up at me, then looked down again. My stomach flipped on itself, then sank. When my cock gave a twitch, I ground my teeth and set my cereal bowl in my lap. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What the ever-loving fuck?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dude, come on. For an hour.” Mark was my fraternity brother, the only one in the house. Ansel was a friend of Mark’s from high school, and Jesse was my dorm roommate freshman year. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nope. I like my scholarship too much. You should get Braden to DD, though.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Funbuster.” Mark shot me a finger gun that I shrugged at; then he picked up his backpack off the counter and trotted toward the back door. Ansel disappeared, probably to shower, and Jesse was sliding his omelet onto a paper plate. Seeing the writing on the wall, I scarfed down my cereal. I didn’t want to be alone in the kitchen with Eric. It was a stupid, wimpy reaction, but it was what it was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jesse ducked out of the kitchen with his omelet just as I polished off the milk in my bowl. I hopped from the counter, gave the bowl a quick rinse, stuck it in the dishwasher, and was on the way to the door. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Nate.” Eric’s deep baritone cut my stride in half. I liked the way he said my name, though—the way he said anything, really. Always had. He had a trace of an accent, having spent much of his childhood overseas. Or at least that’s what he’d told us. For sharing a house, I didn’t know him that well, but he’d responded to our ad on the U’s online forum, and he’d seemed all right enough when we first met him. He kept to himself, mostly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah?” I said it before I committed fully to turning around, and even I could hear that I sounded kind of annoyed. I didn’t mean to, it was just—</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If you need some help with calc tonight, hit me up. I got an A in it last semester.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He’d never offered me help before, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know I was taking the course. I bitched about it all the time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I looked him over like his motivation would become clear. It didn’t. His expression was open and polite, generous mouth pitched in a half-curled smile that seemed genuine. That knot formed in my stomach again. What the fuck was wrong with me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m probably good. But thanks.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’ll be around if you change your mind.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I left, bounding up the stairs to grab my backpack. When I came back down, I went out the front door so I didn’t have to go through the kitchen again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Neve Wilder lives in the southern US, where the summers are hot and the winters are...sometimes cold. She is a mom to three rambunctious weebeasts who have joined forces in a mission to carpet the family home with toys and small items that really suck to step on at six in the morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">She reads promiscuously across multiple genres, but her favorite stories always contain an element of romance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Incidentally, this is also what she likes to write. Slow-burners with delicious tension? Yes. Whiplash-inducing page-turners, also yes. Down and dirty scorchers? Yes. And every flavor in between. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">She believes David Bowie was the sexiest musician to ever live, and she's always game to nerd out on anything from music to writing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">And finally, she believes that love conquers all. Except the heat index in July. Nothing can conquer that bastard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Website: </span><a href="http://www.nevewilder.com/"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.nevewilder.com</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">FB author page: </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/nevewilderwrites"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.facebook.com/nevewilderwrites</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">FB Reader Group: </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/groups/WildersWildOnes"><span style="font-weight: 400;">www.facebook.com/groups/WildersWildOnes</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Amazon Author Page: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Neve-Wilder/e/B07HY29JMG"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.amazon.com/Neve-Wilder/e/B07HY29JMG</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Bookbub Author page: </span><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/neve-wilder"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.bookbub.com/authors/neve-wilder</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Goodreads: </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18429115.Neve_Wilder"><span style="font-weight: 400;">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18429115.Neve_Wilder</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Instagram: </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://www.instagram.com/nevewilder">www.instagram.com/nevewilder</a></span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-687595962786447532019-03-21T08:30:00.000-04:002019-03-21T08:30:07.143-04:00NEW RELEASE + REVIEW + GIVEAWAY: THE COINCIDENCE by Felice Stevens <div style="text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">Title: The Coincidence </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">Author: Felice Stevens </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">Genre: MM Romance </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">Release Date: March 21st </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>Hosted by:</strong> <a href="http://buoniamicipress.com/" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Buoni Amici Press, LLC. </a></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/44154781-the-coincidence?ac=1&from_search=true"><img alt="" class="aligncenter wp-image-662 size-full" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Goodreads-Button-with-Shadow.png" height="45" width="134" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Nice guys always finish last, and Coby Epstein is sick and tired of being last. After his boyfriend dumps him, Coby vows to take it slow and not jump into another relationship, no matter what his ninety-five-year-old great aunt says. When Coby sees his ex has moved on, he goes on a series of disastrous first dates and swears off men, determined to be alone. His best friend disagrees and finds the "perfect man" for him online and arranges a date. The only problem? Coby has no idea what she’s done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Since childhood, Eli Kaplan has been his father’s greatest disappointment, a fact he’s reminded of at every opportunity. For years, he’s struggled with the knowledge that dating women doesn’t work for him. A late-night confession to his brother changes everything and Eli realizes, maybe, just maybe, he can come out, find himself, and find love. Eli takes the plunge and creates a profile on a dating website, not knowing what to expect. One night he chats with an intriguing man, and despite his nervousness, they arrange to meet for coffee. No big deal. They'll probably never see each other again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">On the day of their first date, nothing could surprise Coby and Eli more than to discover that they live in the same apartment building, on the same floor. In a city of eight million people, coincidences don't get crazier than that. But as the two men begin to weave their lives together with cautious optimism and hope for a future, they find an even greater thread holding their families together—one born from the ashes of a final solution that couldn’t destroy their ancestors’ courage, leaving scars that remain almost a century later. Past lives torn apart can be pieced together by a future no one could have ever imagined, where love is more than fate or coincidence. It’s meant to be.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW59YgxToKrlH_cg5dlBDswSwbnv7Y05zw3oeduP7cNlL2LlPY8lcn_KGGNO9nYxuTaLyGvhNAlh3HZycJtth3qUykQYDHfNRASkGUAsAQQe4Pf9V8PlCQ58p8ozNFhbqsQHSmrOyx_GkM/s1600/cooltext270806339539763.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="99" data-original-width="492" height="40" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW59YgxToKrlH_cg5dlBDswSwbnv7Y05zw3oeduP7cNlL2LlPY8lcn_KGGNO9nYxuTaLyGvhNAlh3HZycJtth3qUykQYDHfNRASkGUAsAQQe4Pf9V8PlCQ58p8ozNFhbqsQHSmrOyx_GkM/s200/cooltext270806339539763.png" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZTO_9tamjPUzDnJo59Vrjm0b2fOroB_NDRz0TusFHAW2ySMxbhMQ0SUHDToxEAE5TtPPL7RGSxcq9MKbruNQOd5PpRMwREUk4QV49IQl7sq62_2tHHna_9-XridVMeqIbotrhYVmWJzH/s1600/5stars+%25281%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="142" data-original-width="640" height="44" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZTO_9tamjPUzDnJo59Vrjm0b2fOroB_NDRz0TusFHAW2ySMxbhMQ0SUHDToxEAE5TtPPL7RGSxcq9MKbruNQOd5PpRMwREUk4QV49IQl7sq62_2tHHna_9-XridVMeqIbotrhYVmWJzH/s200/5stars+%25281%2529.png" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">5 Stars!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">What a lovely, super cute read. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Felice Stevens is one of my top five MM authors. Her characters and stories are always relatable to real life situations and depicts real life struggles in the LGBTQ community. Yes, some people love to read to escape reality and while I myself love that as well, there is just something in the way that this author delivers her stories that just touches your soul. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Eli and Coby's journey will do exactly that. You can feel the raw emotions and utter sadness from Eli as he struggles with who he is and stepping out of his comfort zone to finally live a happy life. And Coby who so wants to find true love but struggles with his worthiness of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I can't even begin to describe how effortlessly beautiful this was written. Where I'm normally all about the sex, lol, I'm so glad Felice Stevens stuck to such an easy flowing pace between these two men. Their story, their bond, and their love couldn't be rushed. Fate and destiny were behind these guys and the author did a phenomenal job delivering their journey to a happily ever after. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was bittersweet to finish because I just wanted more of Eli and Coby. I feel like their journey was just beginning and I wanted so much more for them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">*** ARC received in exchange for an honest review ***</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;">Felice Stevens has always been a romantic at heart. She believes that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending around the corner, Her characters have to work for it, however. Like life in NYC, nothing comes easy and that includes love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;">Felice has written over twenty books in the gay romance genre. Her books been translated into German, French and Italian. Her novel. One Call Away, part of her Soulmates series, was mentioned in Buzzfeed as one of the best “Out for You” gay romances of 2017.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;">Felice lives in New York City with her husband and two children. Her day begins with a lot of caffeine and ends with a glass or two of red wine. She recently retired from the practice law and now daydreams of a time when she can sit by a beach somewhere and write beautiful stories of men falling in love. Although there are bound to be a few bumps along the way, a Happily Ever After is always guaranteed.</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.felicestevens.com/"><img alt="" class="alignnone wp-image-704" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Website.png" height="92" width="92" /></a><a href="https://www.facebook.com/felicestevensauthor/"><img alt="" class="alignnone wp-image-501" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/FB-Social-Button-300x300.png" height="92" width="92" /></a><a href="https://twitter.com/FeliceStevens1"><img alt="" class="alignnone wp-image-518" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Twitter-Social-Button-300x300.png" height="92" width="92" /></a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/FeliceStevens/"><img alt="" class="alignnone wp-image-504 size-full" src="http://buoniamicipress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/IG-Social-Button-e1498045994575.png" height="92" width="92" /></a></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4104052889506855409.post-46600055530637417172019-03-15T09:00:00.000-04:002019-03-15T20:45:41.770-04:00NEW RELEASE + REVIEW + EXCERPT - UNCOMPLICATED by K. M. Neuhold<div style="text-align: right;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large; font-weight: 400;">Uncomplicated</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large; font-weight: 400;">An INKED Novel</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large; font-weight: 400;">K.M. Neuhold</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large; font-weight: 400;">Gay Romance</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large; font-weight: 400;">Release Date: 03.11.19</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Two men with a rocky history, and one with an all-consuming love for both of them.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;">Sometimes I’m so lonely I swear I can’t breathe. I bring men and women into my bed to chase away the ache, but it never seems to help. I want something real, something lasting, but I’ve never been more afraid of anything in my life. If I have nothing else in my life I can count on, at least I have my best friend, Cas. If I have nothing else in my life that feels solid, at least I have Cas.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;">Until one sad smile from a beautiful man tilts my world on its axis.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;">But Finn is Cas’ ex, and that means he’s off limits, right? What if I could have something permanent, if I’m willing to put my heart on the line? Finn and Cas may have a history, but something tells me the three of us could have a future, if we’re willing to let things get a little complicated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://mybook.to/uncomplicated?fbclid=IwAR1Hzjy5xs_kn478zIEH8B_Cy80XiR1kuSEZGQeEzaLZaUIRjFHtn7nqcc8">mybook.to/uncomplicated</a></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">REVIEW</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtULPNELTcQhKV6f6jr4wFozZ3jZLbWRLcXnYV1yaPD0fIQ6ELg4f_wsEjcoQj2mHsUUNOD0yUWyifTeBEjERk_vYkjsbPFQEn4_wwuQJLeS5z2bVx6AcISwgRLf0FP7RxUDu6LGpg75Km/s1600/5-Star-Ratingblue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="77" data-original-width="400" height="61" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtULPNELTcQhKV6f6jr4wFozZ3jZLbWRLcXnYV1yaPD0fIQ6ELg4f_wsEjcoQj2mHsUUNOD0yUWyifTeBEjERk_vYkjsbPFQEn4_wwuQJLeS5z2bVx6AcISwgRLf0FP7RxUDu6LGpg75Km/s320/5-Star-Ratingblue.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">5 STARS ALL DAY!!!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm so in love with this story! Not everyone can pull off an MMM story. Some lack easy flow, emotions and a sense that the characters are all connected and each partner is an equal. K. M. Neuhold had no problem what-so-ever incorporating all those things in this story that is so beautifully told. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I love that these guys' journey is fulled with so much emotion. It's so powerfully packed with ALL THE FEELS!! My heart was seriously aching for Beau and Finn. These two beautiful lonely souls just called out to each other and the connection they form is touching and heartwarming. Then there's Cas. Beautiful, protective, caring and loving Cas! GAH!! This man and his huge heart had me swooning at pretty much almost everything he did and said. Making this triad complete PERFECTION! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">K. M. Neuhold writes beautifully broken men. Men with so much emotion, passion and chemistry. This story simply put was hott AF! I definitely enjoyed it from start to finish. I seriously read it in a matter of hours. I devoured this baby. Fantastic read and highly recommended. Can't wait to see what comes next. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">*** ARC provided in exchange for an honest review ***</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Excerpt</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: 400;">I grab two spoons out of the dishwasher while Cas pulls out a fresh carton of ice cream. Hopping up onto the counter, I wince at both the twinge in my well-used ass and the cold granite against my skin.</span>
<span style="font-weight: 400;">“You know, most people would find it gross that your bare ass is right where we prepare our food,” he points out dryly.</span>
<span style="font-weight: 400;">“Some people are so uptight,” I tease, reaching for the carton of ice cream and pulling it to me. Cas comes around the counter to stand between my legs, resting his hot hands on my thighs and opening his mouth when I offer him the first spoonful of creamy deliciousness.</span>
<span style="font-weight: 400;">His hands caress my legs lazily, his fingers dancing absently through the coarse blond hair covering them. We eat in easy silence for the next few minutes, sometimes sharing spoons and other times playfully tussling over the carton. I lick another spoonful, holding the cream in my mouth until it melts from the heat before pulling Cas in for a kiss, chuckling into his mouth as he gasps around my icy tongue.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;">Author K.M. Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;">She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: 400;"> When she's not writing she's a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero...just kidding, she's likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.</span></div>
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Jenn's Book Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11422191816363333783noreply@blogger.com0