❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: Preppy, Part Three: The Life and Death of Samuel Clearwater by T.M. Frazier🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

Preppy, Part Three: The Life and Death of Samuel Clearwater by T.M. Frazier is coming April 26th!!!

Preppy, Part Three: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater by T.M. Frazier
Release Date: April 26th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

The bowtie is BACK!

Dre was just a beautiful stranger when Preppy saved her the first time around. Now, he has to save her again, but she's no longer some stranger, she's family, and he has no idea who or what he's up against.

What he does know is that putting his family back together is the only acceptable outcome.

Preppy's to-do list?
SAVE FAMILY. SEEK REVENGE.

He's alive...and he's out for BLOOD.

Preppy Part Three is the third book and conclusion of Preppy and Dre's story. It's also the 7th book in the King Series, which should be read in order starting with KING & TYRANT.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝PURCHASE LINKS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Preorder Today!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2n47jJP
Amazon US: https://goo.gl/eETkE6
iBooks: https://goo.gl/4h4XQx
Nook: https://goo.gl/JUVbu1
Kobo: https://goo.gl/HQ8NjX


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝GOODREADS LINK🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/VIqZwa


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝BOOKS IN THE SERIES🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Start the Series Today!

Preppy Part One
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2pEk4cu
Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/Wzj54r
iBooks: https://goo.gl/QBmUP9
Nook: https://goo.gl/kmoIc6
Kobo: https://goo.gl/tVWjhe

Preppy Part Two
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2ozkOjU
Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/pYCkcH
iBooks: https://goo.gl/TKTaC1
Nook: https://goo.gl/52vo0I
Kobo: https://goo.gl/BOvVP8


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Preppy placed his other hand behind my neck, pulling me closer. “Dre, when I look at you, when I touch you. I love you so much it fucking HURTS,” he said against my neck, the vibration of his words had my nipples standing at firm attention all over again.
“I don’t want you to hurt,” I said, although I knew exactly what he meant because I felt the same. I had so much love for him it made my chest swell to the point where I thought I might break inside. Preppy looked down between us to where his swollen cock bobbed with his every move. The head thick and purple, throbbing and glistening at the tip, dripping with his own need. “No, Doc, it hurts, but it’s the best kind of pain.” Preppy’s eyes were half-lidded. A devilish smirk played on his lips. “Look, it hurts so bad even my cock is crying.”
I returned his smile, looking up at him through my lashes. I licked my lips. Preppy groaned, placing his hands on both sides of my head, running his fingers through my hair. I pushed him to his back and crawled down his body, giving a quick lick to the tip of his cock, which pulsed in response. I watched his expression darken as he watched me kiss and lick my way around his thick shaft. “Fuck,” he cursed. “What are you doing to me, woman?”
 “If your cock’s crying, then I’m licking the tears away,” I said, taking the head into my mouth and swirling my tongue around to taste his salty pre-cum. I moaned, the sound shot straight between my legs.
Preppy dug his hands into my hair deeper, pulling, holding me with more force. His abs flexed as I took more and more of him into my mouth, lightly sucking as I circled my lips around the soft skin of his extremely hard shaft.
I pulled back and softly blew on his wet cock. All the muscles in his arms tensed. His hips bucked into the air. His mouth fell open as he gazed down at me with a lust filled expression I know mirrored my own. “Any better?” I asked, wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft.
Preppy shook his head. “No, not better. I think it’s fucking worse,” he ground out, looking as if he were in pain.
“How so?” I asked, stroking him from root to tip with a slight twist at the top.
Preppy hissed. “Because I want to fuck you again, but now I also don’t ever want my cock to be anywhere besides that beautiful mouth ever again. Those fucking red lips. Jesus fucking Christ, Doc. I thought I’d already died, but you’re the one killing me.”
“You mean like this?” I asked, taking him into my mouth again. Further this time. Preppy had a monster cock and although I used to think he was joking when he said that it was the honest truth. There was no way I’d be able to take all of him but I did the best I could, taking him until the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat. Giving him all I could because I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel.
“Holy fucking, shit,” Preppy groaned, holding onto the ground for support with one hand, the other still fisted in my hair. The next few sentences that came out of his mouth were incoherent because I began to slide him out and then back again, using my hand on the part of his shaft that my mouth couldn’t reach. Over and over again I stroked and sucked him with my tongue, squeezing him with my lips and hollowing out my cheeks so my mouth was wrapped as tightly around him as possible.
I used my other hand to reach around him and squeeze his ass cheek, pulling him in closer, holding him to me. I released him and pulled him back again, letting him know it was okay to move. He nodded, and bit his bottom lip, watching as he began to thrust his hips upward into my mouth then slowly pulling back out, groaning as he repeated the motion.
Over and over again he thrust forward and pulled back. I braced myself with my other hand on his ass and again he held my head with both hands as he fucked my mouth. Harder and harder until tears were flowing down my cheeks. I watched as the cords in his neck strained with his every movement. I felt his ass muscles tense and watched as his entire body tightened and his cock hardened in my mouth before spurts of warmth shot from him, deep into my throat. Preppy threw his head back and in the sexiest most animalistic roar he came and came and came until I thought I couldn’t swallow one more drop of his salty release.
He pulled out of me and collapsed onto the floor without pulling his pants back up. He pulled me down with him and wrapped his arms around my back. “I think I just broke a promise to you,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. Our chests heaving together in unison.
“What promise?” I asked, confused.
He tucked me in closer, laying a palm over my breast. “The one where I said I wouldn’t die again,” he chuckled. “‘Cause, Doc, I’m pretty sure you just fucking killed me.”


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝OUR REVIEW🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

#COMINGSOON


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR BIO🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

T.M.Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and her young daughter.
When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance.
Well…it has a beach in it!
Her latest works include her USA TODAY BESTSELLING KING SERIES and All the Rage.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR LINKS 🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TMFRAZIERBOOKS/
Twitter: @TM_Frazier
Stay up to date with T.M. by signing up for her newsletter today:
http://www.subscribepage.com/tmfraziernewslettersignup
http://www.tmfrazierbooks.com

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: Preppy By T.M. Frazier🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

Love. Never. Dies.

Find out why in Preppy by T.M. Frazier releases on October 25th.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Samuel Clearwater, A.K.A Preppy, likes bowties, pancakes, suspenders, good friends, good times, good drugs, and a good f*ck.

He’s worked his way out from beneath a hellish childhood and is living the life he’s always imagined for himself. When he meets a girl, a junkie on the verge of ending it all, he’s torn between his feelings for her and the crippling fear that she could be the one to end the life he loves.

Andrea ‘Dre’ Capulet is strung out and tired.

Tired of living for her next fix. Tired of doing things that make her stomach turn. Tired of looking in the mirror at the reflection of the person she’s become. Just when she decides to end it all, she meets a man who will change the course of both their lives forever.

And their deaths.

For most people, death is the end of their story.
For Preppy and Dre, death was only the beginning.

This is the fifth book in the King Series and it's meant to be read after Soulless.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝PURCHASE LINKS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Pre-order your copy at the following retailers:

Amazon US:  http://amzn.to/2cTDLel
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2dLPjxf
iBooks: http://apple.co/2dTC9Pe
Nook:  http://bit.ly/2dvflpI
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2dyWedL


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

PROLOGUE
PRESENT
PREPPY
Tiny flashes of dim light spark in the darkened corners of my mind. Slowly, it turns from dusk to dawn, awakening my thoughts as the inner light grows brighter and brighter.
I hear a sound, a faucet running, and I realize it’s the blood rushing through my ears. When it reaches my heart I choke as it comes back to life like a bass drum. Boom. BaBOOM it beats, on and on, until it falls into a quick yet steady rhythm. The new life inside me grows louder, stronger, until death fades away and I awake on a gasp.

My eyes spring open. I try to take in air, but nothing happens. I try again and my lungs burn as they finally decide to cooperate. I can breathe, but it hurts like a son of a bitch.
I’m fucking alive.
My first thoughts shock the shit out of me. They’re of a girl. A sad looking girl with shiny black hair and huge dark eyes sitting on the edge of the water tower.
My heart falls out of rhythm, beating faster and faster until it’s thrumming against my chest like the vibration of a jackhammer.
Her.
Although my vision is blurry as shit, my thoughts of her are clearer than they’d ever been, and for the first time in my adult life, I’m fucking scared.
I don’t even need to see the big motherfucker standing over me with a baseball bat to know I am completely and totally fucked.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝OUR REVIEW🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

#COMINGSOON


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR BIO🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.

She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.

In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.

It only took her twenty years to start the next one.
It will not be about hamsters.

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: Between Here and the Horizon By Callie Hart 🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

Betrayal. Lust, Unrequited Love. Redemption.
Between Here and the Horizon is an Epic Love Story
by Callie Hart releasing October 18th!


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Ophelia Lang needs money, and she needs it bad. Her parent’s restaurant is going under, and ever since she lost her job teaching third grade elementary, scraping enough cash together to pay the bills has proven almost impossible. Her parents are on the brink of losing their home. The vultures are circling overhead. So when Ophelia is offered an interview for a well-paid private tutoring gig in New York, how can she possibly say no?

Ronan Fletcher is far from the overweight, balding businessman Ophelia expected him to be. He’s young, handsome, and wealthy beyond all reason. He’s also perhaps the coldest, rudest person she’s ever met, and has a mean streak in him a mile and a half wide. A hundred grand is a lot of money, however, and if tolerating his frosty temperament, his erratic mood swings and whatever else he throws at her means she’ll get paid, then that is what Ophelia will do.

Her new boss is keeping secrets, though. Awful, terrible secrets.

The ghosts of Ronan Fletcher’s past are about to turn Ophelia’s future upside down, and she can’t even see it coming.

Note: Between Here and The Horizon is a brand new standalone contemporary romance novel from USA Today bestselling author, Callie Hart. Between Here and the Horizon does contain some scenes of violence and sexual content, and so is directed at audience 18+.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝PURCHASE LINKS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Pre-order Today!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2dNLrMr
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2dmSUWY
iBooks: http://apple.co/2dmU6K1
Nook: http://bit.ly/2dmTIeP
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2dNLCHT


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

The door flew open before I’d even had a chance to climb out of the car, and he stood there, one hand resting on his stomach, the other braced against the door jamb, staring at me with the wide-eyed look of someone about to encounter aliens for the first time.
“What the fuck?” he mouthed.
“You tell me,” I mouthed back. I didn’t want to get out of the car now that I’d seen the shitty expression on his face. His hair was crazy, standing on end, and his jaw was marked with dark stubble that made him look both unkempt and well put together at the same time somehow. He was wearing a tight, gray, long-sleeved shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and yet another pair of scruffy black jeans. He was pale and there were shadows under his eyes, which made him look haunted.
Slowly, still pressing one hand to his stomach, he hobbled out of the doorway and came and stood in front of the driver’s side door, looking at me through the window. When I didn’t buzz down the window, he lifted his hand and rapped a knuckle against the glass.
Didn’t really seem like I had much of a choice after that. Down the window went. He considered me for a moment, considered the car in general, then said, “I don’t suppose…that this is a coincidence?”
“You left your meds at the center.”
He turned and walked away. “I’m not taking that shit.”
“It’s pain medication, Fletcher. They wouldn’t have prescribed it to you if they didn’t think you needed it.”
“I don’t need it. How do you know they’re pain meds anyway?” Slowing, he looked back over his shoulder, frowning. “You been snooping in my shit?”
“I was surprised they weren’t anti-psychotics actually,” I snapped. “And no, I wasn’t snooping in your shit. Gale offered up the information before she handed over the bag.”
“Ha! Gale.”
“Yeah. Your girlfriend isn’t the brightest bulb in the box, huh?” I got out of the car and followed after him.
“You know all too well she isn’t my girlfriend.”
“You implied it.”
“Which doesn’t mean anything, really, does it?”
“Why are those signs stacked up by the side of the house, Fletcher?”
“To stop nosy busybodies from showing up at my place, unannounced.”  Stopping at his front door, he turned and barred the entrance with one arm. “Shame. Didn’t seem to work in this particular instance, did it?”
“I’m just trying to do the Good Samaritan bit, you asshole.”
“I’m not a Christian.”
“What?”
“The Good Samaritan. He was from the bible, right?”
“You don’t need to be a Christian to be a good person.”
“I’m sure it helps. Look, it’s fucking freezing and I have four cracked ribs. Can we please do this some other time?”
Over his shoulder, I could see a room in disarray, and a television on a stack of books, its screen turned to static. White noise popped and crackled, rustling low. I should have just left. I shouldn’t have come in the first place; as soon as I’d found out he’d refused treatment at the medical center and gone home, I should have left him to his own devices. But he looked terrible. A clammy looking sweat had broken out across his forehead, and his hands were shaking. He hadn’t taken any of his damn pain medication, and now he was telling me he had four broken ribs. God, how the hell was I meant to just drive away now? It would be easy enough to do. It’d feel great slamming the car door and speeding off, leaving him behind in the dust. I wouldn’t get further than a mile before the guilt set in, and I had to turn back, though.
“Damn it, Sully. Just let me inside so I can fix you up with something to eat and something warm to drink. Set my mind at ease. Then I’ll be on my way, I promise.”
Sully cocked his head to one side. His breathing was shallow. Shallower than it should have been. “You’re quite the little do-gooder, aren’t you? What was the chick’s name from The Sound of Music again? The nun that wouldn’t quit that infernal singing? You know, the one who saved those children from the Nazis? You’re just like her. So…sunny.” He used the word as if it were an insult.
I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m nothing like her. Can we please just go inside? You’re right, it is freezing, and I don’t feel like catching hypothermia right now.”
Both his eyebrows lifted at once. “That’s funny.”
Okay, so that was a pretty dumb thing to say on my part, but there was no need for him to be such an ass. “Fletcher. Come on. Please.” Lord, I was begging him to let me inside his house so I could take care of him? How had this come about? Really, it categorically, absolutely made zero sense.
He sighed, allowing his arm to fall. “All right. You can come in. On two conditions.”
“Which are?”
“If you step foot inside my house, do not even think about trying to tidy anything. Move one book, one plate, one mug, and you’ll be back out of the door quicker than you can say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
He looked so damned pleased with himself that I couldn’t help wipe the smile from his face. “That’s from Mary Poppins, not The Sound of Music.”
“I don’t care what it’s from. You mess with my shit, you’re gone. Copy?”
I held my hands up. “Fine. I won’t tidy.”
“Second condition. There won’t be any of that hot tea bullshit. If you’re coming in here, you’re drinking whiskey.”
“What? Why am I drinking whiskey?”
“Because I’m drinking whiskey. And that’s just the way it is.”
“I have to drive.”
He shrugged. “Take it or leave it, Lang.”
How much would it hurt him if I jabbed him in the ribcage right now? A lot, probably. Enough to make him behave himself? I wasn’t going to hold my breath. “Okay. Fine. Whatever. Just let me inside already. My feet are going numb.”
This was going to be a disaster.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝OUR REVIEW🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

#COMINGSOON


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR BIO🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Callie has experienced many changes throughout her life, and gone through many ups and downs that have all worked towards shaping and moulding her into the person she is today: fun loving, active, social, and hard working. The only thing that has remained a constant throughout her life is writing. Creating characters who will tear your conscience in two is a favorite pastime of Callie’s. There are few real saints and sinners in her books; more often, the denizens of her stories are all very human. Broken, flawed, and always with the potential for redemption.
Despite the subject matter being markedly hot and heavy in comparison to the stories she wrote in elementary school, there will always be an element of fairytale to her work.
Callie Hart is the author of the Blood & Roses Series. Zeth & Sloane’s story is now complete, but there are a number of stories still to be released under the Blood & Roses banner. 2015 will see Cade, Michael and Rebel’s stories being released, as well as a number of brand new stories, all of which will be Dark Romance novels.
If you would like to contact Callie, you can do so here.
If you would like to sign up to Callie’s newsletter for info on upcoming releases, exclusive teasers, excerpts and competitions, you can do so here.

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: The Eagle By Jillian Dodd 🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

Revenge won’t change anything—or will it? The Eagle by Jillian Dodd releases October 11th!! Pre-order TODAY!

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

From USA Today bestselling author Jillian Dodd comes the second book in a sizzling series filled with action and adventure. Fans of The Selection and The Hunger Games will discover a heart-pounding thrill ride of espionage and suspense set in glittering high society. The world’s most deadly assassin, a man known only as The Priest, has come back from the dead to take a series of high profile hits. When the assassin completes his first task—shooting an important world leader, the global community goes into collective shock and his government vows retaliation. With her cover firmly cemented as Huntley Von Allister, Spy Girl’s vacation on the Royal Yacht is cut short when she’s called home for her next mission—and, this time, it’s personal. Can Huntley accomplish her mission before the next hit takes place? And what will happen when she finally comes face-to-face with the man who killed her mother? ❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝PURCHASE LINKS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

iBooks: http://apple.co/2c7DgJa Nook: http://smarturl.it/theeagleBN Kobo: http://smarturl.it/theeagleKobo Google Play: http://smarturl.it/theeagleGP Amazon: Will go live on release date.

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝BOOKS IN THE SERIES🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

THE PRINCE (Book One) is NOW AVAILABLE Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2cBLdHB Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2caH7Y0 iBooks: http://apple.co/2cCoMou Nook: http://bit.ly/2c59W7w Kobo: http://bit.ly/2ctjnNf Google Play: http://bit.ly/2d50NOy

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Two men are seated in a large room with ornate gold leaf bookcases and a deeply toned, hand-painted mural covering a large, domed ceiling. The mural features the Archangel Michael in a battle with Satan. It was painstakingly created for this room based on the Baroque painting, “The Fall of the Damned,” and it took an artist three years to complete. Although one of the men seated owns the home this beautiful room is in, he is not sitting in a place of power behind his mammoth hand-carved mahogany desk, but rather both men are seated in matching wingback chairs covered in the softest of plaid cashmeres and are situated near the room’s French doors, which overlook the estate’s vast grounds. “We have some loose ends to tie up regarding Montrovia,” the owner of the home says after taking a sip of amber-colored liquid from a heavy crystal tumbler. “We shouldn’t have trusted the girl,” the other man says. “Easy to say in retrospect, especially considering she came very close to succeeding. If she would have become Queen, it would have made things much easier for us. We will prevail, regardless.” “What is our next course of action, then?” “We continue with our plan,” the owner states. “Although, I’m afraid there will have to be a few slight variations.” “Does one of those variations have to do with why the Eagle wasn’t present at our meeting today?” the man asks, the understanding of an unusual event earlier in the day showing in his furrowed brow. “He isn’t doing what he promised. Now that he controls the world’s most powerful military, he seems to have forgotten who put him into power.”

“That was a very expensive endeavor.” The owner of the home nods in agreement. “One of which we are not reaping the reward from. So, I’m afraid we have no choice. We must liquidate our bad investment.” The man sets his drink down, trying to keep his hand from shaking, knowing it could just as easily be him if he dared to cross the man in front of him. “But he’s our friend.” “Something he has also forgotten. Do it. And I only want the best, for obvious reasons.” “Sadly, the best is dead.” “Are you referring to The Priest?”

“Yes. He was killed after the Eagle’s father hired him for a hit then double crossed him.” “I don’t believe he’s dead. Find him.” “I’m sure we can find someone equally as talented—” “I want The Priest and no one else,” the owner interrupts. How in the world am I supposed to hire a dead man? he thinks, but he doesn’t dare say. “It’s going to be dangerous for us to even try to find him, but I will see what I can come up with. What if he is still alive, but says no?” “You will make him an offer he cannot refuse. And see if he will give us a group discount regarding the outstanding Montrovian situation.” *** The assassin known as The Priest enters an empty bar in France. The hole-in-the-wall drinking establishment is supposed to be open this afternoon, but the owner just hung the closed sign on the door. “What is this nonsense about an offer?” the assassin asks, freaking out a little. “Everyone thinks I’m dead. We’ve worked hard to establish ourselves here. How did they contact you?” “Through a secure network. I left a few trusted assets in place in case we ever needed the money.” “We could be traced though that.” “No, we can’t. I’m good at what I do. Are you interested in hearing the offer, or not?” “It doesn’t matter how much it is. I’m not interested.” “So are you saying that fifteen million dollars wouldn’t sway you?” “Fifteen million? Who the hell is the target?” “It’s a series of three hits, but they have only revealed the first one.” He whispers the man’s name. “You’ve got to be kidding. No way.” “This money could set us both up for life.” “We’re already set up for life. Sort of. Besides, I retired. With good reason.” “They will go as high as twenty.” “You know how well-guarded a man of his stature is.” “Are you saying no because you don’t want to do it, or because you don’t think you can do it?” “Whether or not I can do it is not the question. I always complete my tasks. However, in this case, getting away with it would be another story. I’d have a whole country after me. And they’d find you first, since you are the one brokering the deal.” “You don’t trust my skills?” “All I know is that I’m lucky to be alive. It’s been over six years since I was double-crossed, and you know as well as I do, that when Lara was killed it should have been me driving. I had gotten careless with my cover.”

“That was four years ago.” “Two years after I was presumed dead. Men like that never forget. For all we know, this could be their way of setting me up.” He pushes himself away from the bar. “No. We can’t risk it.” “If we could get them to twenty-five million, we could buy our own island and live in paradise forever.” “We already live in paradise, my friend.” “I’m tired of running this bar.” “This bar is your cover. Hiding didn’t work before. Hiding in plain sight is. And we will continue to make it work.” “Whatever,” the bartender says, his disappointment showing in both his expression and gestures. But he does as told—logs into a secure network and declines the offer. He’s surprised when there is an immediate response. “They just offered thirty million.” The assassin closes his eyes. The thrill of the hunt is something he craves, but he can’t. He shakes his head no. The bartender relays his decision, then his eyes go wide with shock. “You need to see this for yourself,” he says, handing him the laptop. The assassin reads the instant message. Thirty million is my final offer, but I suspect it’s not about the money. I have other information that may interest you. The first target is not only a powerful world leader, but he is the legacy of the man who double-crossed you six years ago. He’s rereading it again just to be sure, when another message pops up. Does that change your mind? The assassin drains the beer in front of him. “Tell the man that it most certainly does.”

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR BIO🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀ Jillian is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She writes fun romances with characters her readers fall in love with, from the boy next door in the That Boy trilogy to the daughter of a famous actress in The Keatyn Chroniclesseries. She's married to her college sweetheart, has two adult children, two Labs named Cali and Camber, and lives in a small Florida beach town. When she's not working, she likes to decorate, paint, doodle, shop for shoes, watch football, and go to the beach.

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: Coming Full Circle By Jessica Prince🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

💕Coming Full Circle by Jessica Prince💕
Releasing October 3


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

She knew what it was like to feel unwanted.

At an early age Eliza Anderson learned a very hard lesson. Sometimes the people who are supposed to love you the most are the ones that cause you the most pain. She learned to guard herself, hesitating to let anyone close for fear of feeling that rejection all over again. Then Ethan came into her life, and what had started as a simple childhood crush morphed into a friendship she eventually came to cherish above all else. He was her safe place. Her rock. A shoulder she could lean on. Until he ripped it all away.

He knew what it was like to feel like an outsider.

Ethan Prewitt grew up learning that you couldn’t always trust the people you loved the most to be there. That sense of security he craved had always alluded him, leaving him to feel like an interloper in his own home. He dreamed of escaping the small town of Pembrooke and building a life where he didn’t have to depend on anyone but himself. What he never expected was for his friendship with Eliza to grow into something that meant everything to him.

Mistakes were made. Hearts were broken. But now Ethan’s home and he’s determined to make it right. It was time for their relationship to come full circle.

Because what they had was once in a lifetime.

***This is Book 2 in the Pembrooke series, a spin-off of Wildflower. They are interconnected standalones.***


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝PURCHASE LINKS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝GOODREADS LINK🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31438995-coming-full-circle


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Meet Ethan & Eliza in

Wildflower
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Sweet Sunshine
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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

I fell in love with Ethan Prewitt when I was nine years old.

It wasn’t real love or anything. I was only nine — almost ten — after all, but back then it was the most intense, consuming emotion I’d ever experienced in my young life. From nine to twelve I was a blushing, giggling, stuttering mess whenever he was around, and seeing as my Dad and his wife Chloe were best friends with Ethan’s sister and brother-in-law, he was around a lot.

Ethan was gorgeous and popular and way too old for me — which only added to the thrill of it. But as time passed and we really got to know each other, that young, childish love evolved. I started to grow up, mature, and that immature infatuation turned into a friendship the likes of which I cherished above all else.

My relationship with Ethan was the most important thing in my life. It was him I went to when I needed advice, his opinion I held in the highest regard, his shoulder I leaned on whenever I needed someone to share my burdens with. As the years passed, that respect only grew.

He turned into the best friend I could have ever had. We told each other everything, confiding things we wouldn’t dare tell anyone else. We shared our ambitions and dreams. We knew each other better than anyone else. I needed him. I grew to depend on him.

And looking back, I realized that was my biggest mistake.

Because needing someone didn’t necessarily mean they needed you back. It was a lesson I’d learned even before Ethan came into my life. You could give a person all the love you were capable of carrying, but that didn’t mean you’d get the same in return.

My mother hadn’t taught me much in my life, but that particular lesson was the one that stuck the most, sad as it was.

There were people in your life who were supposed to care, supposed to do their best to protect you from all the bad. My father was one of those people, his wife Chloe another. It hurt to know my own mother, my flesh and blood, wasn’t one of those people, and for that very reason, I kept my circle small. Only those who I’d go to the ends of the earth for and who I trusted to do the same for me were allowed in. I appreciated quality over quantity, and while keeping people out sometimes led to being lonely, I’d convinced myself that it was enough. I had everyone I’d ever need. I had Dad and Chloe, Noah and Harlow, my other friend Lilly.

And I had Ethan. Or so I thought.

I only had him for six years before I lost him.

Now I’ve spent the next six regretting the fact that I ever let Ethan Prewitt in.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR LINKS 🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

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#Excerpt #ComingSoon #PembrookeSeries #ComingFullCircle #JessicaPrince #ContemporaryRomance #PreOrder

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: Playing it Cool By Amy Andrews🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

"Suddenly, this fake relationship is feeling all too real..."

Playing it Cool by Amy Andrews releases on September 12th!

Standalone. Sports Romance.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Score one for the curvy girls!

Harper Nugent might have a little extra junk in her trunk, but her stepbrother calling her out on it is the last straw... When rugby hottie, Dexter Blake, witnesses the insult, he surprises Harper by asking her out. In front of her dumbass brother. Score! Of course, she knows it's not for reals, but Dex won't take no for an answer.


Dexter Blake's life revolves around rugby with one hard and fast rule: no women. Sure, his left hand is getting a workout, but he's focused on his career for now. Then he overhears an asshat reporter belittle the curvy chick he'd been secretly ogling. What's a guy to do but ask her out? It's just a little revenge against a poser, and then he'll get his head back in the game.

But the date is better than either expected. So is the next one. And the next. And the heat between them...sizzles their clothes right off.

Suddenly, this fake relationship is feeling all too real...


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝PURCHASE LINKS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

“What do you want?” Her voice was husky as she slid her hands onto his thighs and Dex shivered at her touch.
He shrugged. Just looking down at her like this, her face upturned, her long dark hair falling down her naked back, her breasts thrust out and tipped in a golden glow from the television was driving him crazy. “They’re your spoils.”
 She wet her lips again and it took all Dex’s willpower not to swoop down and crush his mouth on hers.
“I want to know.”
Dex shook his head. She’d be shocked if she knew the things he wanted to do to her. “Trust me—” he reached his hand out and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You don’t.”
She dug the pads of her fingers into his thighs and the sensation streaked straight to his balls, sizzling hot at the base of his spine. “Humour me.”
Dex locked his gaze with hers. He could see fever glint in their depths. The kind of fever that heated his blood and stirred deep in the muscles of his inner thighs.
She wanted to hear the words...
“I want to strip that underwear off you. I want to lay you flat and bury my head between your thighs and stay there until you forget the name of any other man who’s ever gone down on you.”
He trailed his fingers along her jaw not trusting himself in this moment to not follow through on what he’d just described. His thumb rubbed at the full soft crescent of her bottom lip.
“I want to kiss you until we both can’t breathe. I want to push your gorgeous breasts together and thrust my cock between them until I come all over them. I want to look down and see your mouth around my dick.”
Dex sucked in an uneven breath. He was dizzy with the images bombarding his mind, intoxicated by the possibilities, by the things he wanted to do to this woman. With this woman.
“I want to turn you upside down and inside out with wanting me. I want to bend you over the arm of this couch and fuck you until you’re begging me to stop. Hell, I want to bend you over every goddamn piece of furniture in this place.”  
Dex stopped, the breath thick in the back of his throat, as his mind swirled into an abyss of devolving scenarios. Ropes, paddles, wax encrusted nipples. All that fifty shades of grey shit. He wasn’t into pain—hers or his. But the way she was looking up at him, her pretty wet lips parted and so very near, was fogging his brain with reckless lust.


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝OUR REVIEW🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

#COMINGSOON


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR BIO🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Amy Andrews is a multi-published, award- winning author of 50+ romance novels across both traditional and digital platforms. She writes for Harlequin Mills and Boon, Entangled, Harper Collins Australia, Momentum Publishing, Escape Publishing and Tule. She's sold in excess of a million books worldwide and has been translated into over a dozen languages. In her spare time she is a PICU nurse and mother of two teenagers. She lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane, Australia but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.

If you want to keep utd with all her latest releases and exclusive content you can sign up for her newsletter here - http://www.amyandrews.com.au/newsletter.html

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: Neighbor Dearest By Penelope Ward🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

NEIGHBOR DEAREST
(A standalone)
Release date: 8/15/2016

A Contemporary Romance Novel

New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Penelope Ward

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

A STANDALONE NOVEL that does NOT need to be read in conjunction with any other book.

From New York Times bestselling author, Penelope Ward, comes a friends-to-lovers story with sexy new characters.

After getting dumped, the last thing I needed was to move next door to someone who reminded me of my ex-boyfriend, Elec.

Damien was a hotter version of my ex.

The neighbor I’d dubbed “Angry Artist” also had two massive dogs that kept me up with their barking.

He wanted nothing to do with me. Or so I thought until one night I heard laughter coming through an apparent hole in my bedroom wall.

Damien had been listening to all of my phone sessions with my therapist.

The sexy artist next door now knew all of my deepest secrets and insecurities.

We got to talking.

He set me straight with tips to get over my breakup.

He became a good friend, but Damien made it clear that he couldn’t be anything more.

Problem was, I was falling hard for him anyway. And as much as he pushed me away, I knew he felt the same…because his heartbeat didn’t lie.

I thought my heart had been broken by Elec, but it was alive and beating harder than ever for Damien.

I just hoped he wouldn’t shatter it for good.

Author's note – Neighbor Dearest is a full-length standalone novel. Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝PURCHASE LINKS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

***Available for purchase on Amazon on release day.
Receive an alert when it’s live on Amazon ➜ http://bit.ly/2apKX0x

We hope you enjoyed this extended preview!
Available for Pre-order on iBooks, Nook and Kobo now!
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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝GOODREADS LINK 🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

RoomHate:
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Stuck-Up Suit: (co-written with Vi Keeland)
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Cocky Bastard: (co-written with Vi Keeland)
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Stepbrother Dearest:
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My Skylar
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Gemini:
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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

My little sister is such a drama queen. Literally. Jade is an actress on Broadway.
She clapped her hands together, applauding the students who’d just bravely put themselves out there to try out for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. “You all did such a great job today! Tomorrow we cast the roles and start our first rehearsal. This is gonna be epic!”
Jade had come out to the Bay Area to visit our family for the week and offered to volunteer at the youth center where I worked. Since there wasn’t enough time to produce an entire play, Jade decided to direct the kids in one key scene from the musical that would be performed later in the week.
I loved my job as director of the arts at the Mission Youth Center. It was just about the only thing going right in my life. The only downside was the fact that these walls were haunted by memories of my ex, Elec, who used to be a youth counselor here. That was how we met. He’d loved his job, too, until he quit so that he could move to New York after we broke up. He moved to be with her. I shook my head to shoo away thoughts of him and Greta.
Jade grabbed her purse. “I need to go back to your place to use the bathroom and have a quick bite.”
I’d just moved into a new apartment that was only a few blocks away from my job. The lease had finally run out on the place I’d been renting with Elec across town. Even though my ex sent me his half of the rent for the remainder of our lease after he’d moved out, I couldn’t wait to vacate that place; every corner of it reminded me of him and of the miserable months that followed our break up.
My place was right in the south central section of the Mission District. I loved the culture in my new neighborhood. Produce bins and a variety of cafes lined the streets. It was also a mecca for Latin culture, which was great, except for the fact that it reminded me of Elec, who was half Ecuadorian. Little reminders of the guy who broke my heart were everywhere.
Jade and I strolled down the sidewalk, stopping at a fruit stand so that she could buy some papayas for an afternoon smoothie she planned to make back at my apartment. We also ended up getting two coffees to go.
I bent back the opening on my coffee lid as we walked. “So, little sis, I never thought we would be in the same predicament at the same time.”
Jade had recently been dumped by her musician boyfriend.
“Yes. But the difference is, I feel like I have way more distractions in my life than you do. It’s not that I don’t think about Justin. It’s not that I don’t get sad, but my performances keep me so busy that it’s almost like I don’t have time to wallow in it, you know?”
“I told you I’ve been doing these phone therapy sessions, right?”
Jade took a sip then shook her head. “No.”
“Yeah. I found this psychologist who specializes in trauma from failed relationships, but she’s in Canada. Anyway, we do phone sessions one night a week.”
“Is it helping?”
“It always helps to talk things out.”
“Yeah. But no offense, you don’t seem any better for it. Anyway, you can talk things out with Claire or me. You don’t need to pay big bucks to talk to a stranger.”
“Nighttime is really my only time to talk to anyone. You’re performing at night, and Claire is too wrapped up in being a blissful newlywed. Besides, she’s never had her heart broken. She listens, but she doesn’t get it.”
Our older sister, Claire, married her high school sweetheart. Even though the three of us were close growing up in nearby Sausalito, I’d always felt more comfortable opening up to Jade.
When we arrived at my building, my sister stopped to sit on one of the benches in the corner of the fenced-in courtyard. “Let’s sit for a bit, finish our coffees.” Her gaze wandered across the grass to my shirtless neighbor. “Okay…who’s the hottie in the beanie defacing the property?”
“What is it with you and beanies?”
“Justin used to wear one. That’s why I love them. Isn’t that sad?”
“That is sad.”
“This from the girl who still sleeps in her ex’s shirt.”
“It’s comfortable. It has nothing to do with Elec,” I lied. It was the one thing I allowed myself from him. It made me sad, but I wore it anyway.
“So…who is that guy?”
I didn’t know my neighbor’s name, but I’d see him once in a while doing spray paint art along the wrap-around concrete wall that surrounded the property. It served as a vast canvas. His spray painting was true art, definitely not what would be considered simple graffiti. It was an elaborate mix of celestial and geographical images. This guy just kept adding different artwork to the wall gradually. It was a work in progress. I could only assume he planned to paint the entire circumference of the property, as much as the wall space would allow.
“He lives in the building, next door to me, actually.”
“What is he doing? They allow him to do that here?”
“I don’t know. The first time I saw him out here, I thought he was vandalizing the property. But no one seems to care or stop him. Every day, he adds to the mural. It’s actually quite beautiful. But it doesn’t match his personality.”
Jade blew on her coffee. “What do you mean?”
“He’s not very nice.”
“You’ve talked to him?”
“No. He’s just not friendly. I’ve tried to make eye contact, but he walks right by me. He has these two big dogs, and they’re pretty mean. They bark all of the time. He walks them every morning.”
“Maybe he’s like a savant. You know, really good with art. Or maybe he’s a genius but with limited social skills. What do they call that…Asperger’s?”
“No. He communicates just fine. I’ve seen him yelling at a few people. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have that. This guy is just not friendly. He doesn’t have Asperger’s. He’s just an ass.”
Jade chuckled. “I think you should totally stop by his place with some warm muffins wrapped up in a basket. It’s the neighborly thing to do. Maybe he’ll loosen up…or loosen you up.”
“Muffins, huh? What’s that code for?”
“Muff…muffins. Same thing. If I lived here, I’d be all over that. But I don’t live here. You do. And you totally need a distraction. I say…he’s it.”
I admired the guy’s broad shoulders and tanned muscular back as his arm moved the spray can up and down. “God, doesn’t he remind you of Elec, though? Arm tattoo…dark hair. Artistic. Basically, that’s the last type of guy I’m going for at this point.”
“So, if someone looks like or seems similar to Elec, then they’re automatically disqualified? They’re destined to do the same thing Elec did? Is that how you think? That’s just stupid rationale.”
“Maybe that’s fucked-up. But the last thing I want is to be with someone who reminds me of him in the least.”
“Well, that’s a shame, because Elec was freaking hot, and this guy…is even hotter.”
“Can you remind me why we’re discussing this? The dude doesn’t even say hello to me. He’s not signing up to be on this delusional version of The Bachelorette. He’s not interested.”
Neighbor Dearest suddenly wiped the sweat from his forehead, took off the mask covering his nose and mouth, and dumped the spray cans into a black drawstring sack. He slung it over his shoulder and just when I thought he was going to walk away and out of the courtyard, he began to walk in our direction. Jade straightened in her seat, and I hated that my pulse raced a bit.
His eyes were focused on me. I wouldn’t call it an angry stare, but he wasn’t smiling. The sunlight beamed directly into his blue eyes, which glowed and really stood out against his tan skin. Jade was right; this guy was truly gorgeous.
“Blueberry are my favorite,” he said.
“What?”
“Muffins.”
“Oh.”
Jade snorted but stayed silent, letting me take the brunt of this humiliation.
“And I’m not anti-social or a savant. I’m just a good old-fashioned prick…with supersonic hearing.”
He smirked and walked away before I could say anything.
When he was safely out of earshot—for real this time—Jade sighed. “Angry guys are the best in bed.”
“You just can’t stop yourself, can you? Haven’t you done enough damage? I’ve always told you that you’re loud when you think you’re whispering. Now there’s proof…at my expense.”
“You’ll be thanking me later when you’re screaming out in orgasm as the angry artist is Van Goh-ing down on you.”
“You’re crazy.”
“That’s why you love me.”
“It is.”


❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR BIO🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism and a 9-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.

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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: Opposites Attract By Jessica Prince🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

Opposites Attract by Jessica Prince

Releasing August 8th

Get Opposites Attract NOW for the special Pre-Order Price of just 99¢!

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Richard and Delilah’s story

He’s a little too serious.
She’s way too eccentric.
When they come together, it's going to be epic.

#itsgoingtobeepic

Delilah Northcutt has been described as weird, nerdy. But her favorite term is quirky. The eccentric flower shop owner definitely marches to the beat of her own drum. On the rebound from a cheating ex, she’s not looking to open her heart to someone else any time soon. On a whim, her best friend convinces her that one night with a stranger she’ll never see again is just what she needs to pull herself out of the funk she’s been living in.

Overly serious, workaholic Richard Locklaine was always described as the twin determined to do the right thing. Even if it was at the cost of his own well-being. But after years in a loveless, manipulative marriage, he’s finally free and ready to build a life of his choosing. And nowhere in that life is there room for another woman—unless it’s for just one night, of course.

They are complete opposites in every single way. But for some reason, fate has decided to force the two of them together. Despite the chemistry, they’re determined to fight the attraction growing between them. Besides, what could a florist with horrible taste in music and an attorney from Connecticut ever really have in common? Only one thing is certain. When they finally come together, it’s going to be epic.

***This is Book 2 in the Locklaine Boys series, a spin-off of Love Hate Relationship. They are interconnected standalones.***

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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

My eyes narrowed as I studied her face. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“Excuse me?”

Why did she sound so pissed? I held my hands up in surrender. “It’s not a line, I swear. You just look familiar to me, but I can’t figure out where I know you from. It’s driving me crazy. We’ve met, right?” Her cheeks flushed a bright pink. With the wide eyes, thick bangs, and creamy pale skin, the blush just made her even cuter.

“You don’t know me?”

I gave her the grin that normally had women doing whatever I wanted them to and took a step closer to her. I was a shameless flirt, so sue me. “Was that a question or an answer?” I teased in a low voice.

She stepped back and nearly tripped over her own feet, which was something, considering she was in flats. Grabbing a long-stemmed flower from the table, she held on to it like it was some sort of shield. The top of the flower drooped as she fidgeted and spun the stem in her hand.

“Uh…” She cleared her throat. “It was an answer. No. You don’t know me.”

I cocked my head to the side. That couldn’t be right. I could have sworn I’d seen her before. “You sure about that?”

“Yep! Positive!” she replied overenthusiastically, twirling the poor, abused flower round and round as she pasted an overly bright smile on her face, making her look slightly psychotic. Something was off with this woman. “So what can I help you with?”

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, I remembered what brought me to Flora in the first place. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m here to pick up a sample bouquet for Navie Collins.”

The flower in her hand stopped spinning and the top of it fell over her fingers, the petals scattering to the floor. “Wait… you’re Locklaine?”

I grinned and held out my hand. “Richard Locklaine, but my friends call me Rich. And you’re Delilah…?” I trailed off, giving her the chance to add her last name. But she didn’t. And my hand stayed extended and empty as she stared at me, aghast, like I’d just informed her I planned on voting for Trump or something.

She seemed frozen for several seconds before she finally blinked and stalked away, walking over to a glass faced refrigerator on the back wall and jerking it open. “Here you go!” she all but shouted as she yanked something from inside and stomped back to me. “Here’s the bouquet.” She tossed it underhanded and I had to scramble to catch it. “Enjoy the flowers. Hope Ms. Collins likes them. Have a nice day!” Once she finished her rapid-fire sentences, she sucked in a deep breath, spun on her heels, and disappeared through another door that led to somewhere else in the shop. I stood there for several seconds, the cold flowers in my hand, and I tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

It wasn’t until I heard an odd sound that I managed to shake off my stupor. “Son of a bitch!” I shouted. When I looked down, the beady-eyed rat/dog bastard had just finished unloading its freakishly large bladder all over my shoes.

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR LINKS 🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

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#itsgoingtobeepic #OppositesAttract #JessicaPrince #PreOrder

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL: Reaper's Fire By Joanna Wylde🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT REVEAL🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Listen Up Little Flowers...

Are you ready for Gage and Tinker’s story? 

Reaper’s Fire releases on August 9th! 

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝SYNOPSIS🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde returns to the “wild and raw”* world of the Reapers MC with the story of Gage and Tinker…

The club comes first. 

I’ve lived by those words my whole life—assumed I’d die by them, too, and I never had a problem with that. My Reaper brothers took my back and I took theirs and it was enough. Then I met her. Tinker Garrett. She’s beautiful, she’s loyal, and she works so damned hard it scares me sometimes . . . She deserves a good man—one better than me. I can’t take her yet because the club still needs me. There’s another woman, another job, another fight just ahead. 

Now she’ll learn I’ve been lying to her all along. None of it’s real. Not my name, not my job, not even the clothes I wear. She thinks I’m nice. She pretends we’re just friends, that I’ve still got a soul . . . Mine’s been dead for years. Now I’m on fire for this woman, and a man can only burn for so long before he destroys everything around him.

I’m coming for you, Tinker. 

Soon.

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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝BOOKS IN THE SERIES🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

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Reaper’s Property by Joanna Wylde has a NEW COVER!

Meet Horse & Marie for ONLY $3.99 (normally $7.99)
Author’s Note: This book was originally released through a small publisher in 2013. This independent edition has been lightly edited, and contains a bonus short, “Sticky Sweet” (originally published on the author’s website) and a Q&A with the author.

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❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝EXCERPT🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Tinker
It was almost seven that evening when I felt the AC kick back on. I’d been lying on my back on the (relatively) cool tile floor behind the counter, staring up at the pressed-tin ceiling and trying to remember why I hadn’t already moved back to Seattle.
In Seattle it rained.
Cool breezes blew off the bay and the lush greenery covered everything with its shaded canopy. People didn’t really need air-conditioning, but if they happened to have it and it broke, there were lots of repair men available.
Of course, Seattle also had Brandon. Not only that, my dad didn’t want to move, and I’d come to realize I couldn’t leave him here alone. It wasn’t safe for him, not since Mom died.
Ugh.
At least the AC was working again, blowing down from the ceiling vent across my sweaty body, reminding me that while the world might not be crawling with perfect men, at least there were still a few useful ones running around. Cooper Romero was a keeper, and it had nothing to do with how sexy he was . . . although the fact that he was sex on a stick—make that sex with a stick—didn’t exactly diminish his appeal.
When I’d dragged him up to the black tar roof to show him the ancient AC, I’d expected him to make a run for it. Any sensible man would. Instead, he’d spent the whole afternoon busting his ass to save my chocolates—Oh God, I wish that were code for something more exciting—officially qualifying him as a superhero in my book.
As for me, there wasn’t much I could do once I got all the sweets safely downstairs into the basement. There weren’t any customers walking in off the street, and seeing as I couldn’t make or ship candy in a 102-degree shop, I’d alternated between attempting to read a book, looking over orders I couldn’t fulfill on my laptop, and bringing Cooper glasses of iced tea. I’d been nervous around him at first, but you can only stay nervous for so long when you’re sweating like a pig—there’s a certain freedom in knowing you look like hell and there’s no saving your hair. I’d thrown my arm across my eyes in a pathetic attempt to block out reality toward the end.
When cold air started flowing into the room, I could’ve cried with relief. He’d never had a chance to fill out the application form, and I’d long since decided it didn’t matter. Unless he was an ax murderer, I’d give him the apartment and the job.
Might give it to him even if he was, to be honest.

“It’s working again,” Cooper announced, and I jerked, startled. Shit, had I fallen asleep? Opening my eyes, I looked up to find him standing over me. Dear God in heaven—that was one hell of a bare chest.
Holy. Shit.
I’d taken note of his build when he first walked in the shop, but everything under his shirt had been theoretical. Now there was six-foot-plus of raw sex appeal right there, all sweaty and sculpted and . . . well, let’s just say I’d be stopping off on the way home to pick up some fresh batteries.
That’s when the situation hit me—Cooper Romero was the hottest man I’d met in forever, and he’d just found me lying on the floor in my own sweat and filth like a dog. Typical luck. I scrambled to my feet, pretending I wasn’t totally embarrassed (I was) and not in the least bit freaked out by how unspeakably attractive this guy was. Okay, “attractive” wasn’t quite the right word, because it implied a certain level of polish and class that just didn’t fit Cooper at all.
Brandon was attractive.
Cooper?
I’d lick him all over and massage his butt if he asked. He stared down at me, his eyes carefully blank, making it very clear he wasn’t asking. Story of my fucking life. Sitting up, I pushed myself to my feet without bothering to dust off. Lost cause at this point.
“Not sure how much life the AC has left,” he said slowly. “I managed to get it going, but fixing it right would cost more than it’s worth and then some.”
Of course it would.
“I just need to get through the summer,” I told him, wiping a finger under my eye. My perfectly applied, vintage-style makeup had melted, leaving me with a clown face. Fortunately I’d (mostly) given up on caring three hours ago, right around the time I’d discovered the floor tiles were cooler than the rest of the room. “After that, I’ll worry about the furnace and by next summer I might not even be here anymore.”
“Really?” he asked, cocking a brow. “You selling out?”
“Not sure,” I told him. “I’m not thinking that far ahead right now. Things are very iffy with my dad . . . I think he’s got some—”
No. I couldn’t say it. Saying it out loud made it too real, plus the last thing I needed were a bunch of rumors flying around town. So far we’d kept dad’s situation mostly to family and friends.
“Tinker?”
Shaking myself, I smiled at him. “Thank you so much for fixing that. I’m not even sure what I would’ve done—I can’t afford to miss a week’s worth of orders. Not only would it put me behind, it would burn my customers.”

He nodded, studying me thoughtfully. God, he really was beautiful . . . Nothing like Brandon’s polished sophistication. No, Cooper gave off more of a warrior-tossing-you-over-his-fearless-steed kind of vibe. Yeah, like that would end well, because my track record with men was so fucking perfect, right?
Pull your head out of the gutter. He probably has a girlfriend.
At least I could finally lock up this hellhole of a shop and get a shower.
“Thank you so much—you have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“No, but the whole throwing yourself at my feet thing was a subtle hint,” he said, and I realized he was teasing me. Was he flirting? I couldn’t decide if that kicked ass or scared the shit out of me.
“Anyway, it’s getting late,” I told him, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’m going to grab some dinner down the street, and then I could take you over and show you the apartment.”
A small, knowing smile crossed his face, and I realized he thought I was hitting on him.
“No,” I said quickly, mortified. “I wasn’t asking you out. Omigod, this is weird.”
“What, you aren’t turned on by a man who smells like old socks?” he asked lightly, raising his arm and giving a sniff. He was joking, but the sweat wasn’t a turnoff. Nope. Not even a little bit. “If that’s not enough for you, the roof tar on my ass should be a big attraction.”
Closing my eyes, I bit back a groan. He started laughing. Not in a cruel way, but companionably, which I guess made sense because both of us were disgusting as hell. Of course, now I wanted to check out his ass, but I managed to keep my eyes on target (mostly) when I answered him.
“Well, it’s sexy but I’ll manage to control myself somehow. I do want to grab dinner, though, and we need to figure out the apartment details.”
“I’ll take the place, doesn’t matter what it is,” he replied. “I’m in a hotel and it’s getting old. I’d love to move in on Sunday, but I can’t go look at it right now—gotta get my ass cleaned up. Meeting up with someone later.”
Of course he was, because men who looked like Cooper didn’t spend Friday nights alone.
“Sounds great,” I told him, refusing to show any disappointment. “Just text me when you’re ready, and I’ll get you the key.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden pounding against the locked shop door caught us both off guard. I spun around to find Talia Jackson glaring at me through the glass. Talia and three of her skankier friends, including Sadie Baxter, a girl I used to babysit when I was in college.
A girl who was now twenty.
Damn.

“Cooper!” Talia shouted. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I glanced at my new handyman, startled. Talia Jackson and her brother, Marsh, were two of the nastiest people I’d ever met. Marsh was president of the local motorcycle gang, a group called the Nighthawk Raiders motorcycle club. The club had been around most of my life, but it was only in recent years that they’d turned really bad. I mean, they were never the kinder, gentler sort of bikers, but I’d never been actively afraid when I’d heard a motorcycle, either.
Now? Let’s just say we’d all gotten a little edgy.
“That’s my girl,” Cooper said, and something deep down inside of me died a little. Of course he’d go for someone like Talia. She might have the heart of a deranged circus clown—you know, the kind that survives by eating the souls of innocent children—but she was hot.
Really hot.
Not only that, she was slutty, and while I wasn’t into the whole slut-shaming thing (like I had room to judge after the bachelorette party debacle . . . ugh), I wasn’t naive enough to think he was attracted to her personality. Cooper Romero might have a sweet smile, and he’d fixed my AC, but now I had proof positive that he’d never be into a girl like me.
Specifically, a grown-up with curves.
All righty, then. Probably for the best anyway.
“Just a sec!” I called to her, determined to take the high road, then I grabbed my keys so I could open the door. She pushed inside with her posse, and I do mean pushed. Little bitch shoved me so hard I nearly knocked over the display of antique Russian teacups my mother had lovingly collected. (So far as I knew, she’d never sold a single one of them, but it’d made her happy.)
“Careful,” I warned, and Talia turned on me.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Babe, let’s talk,” Cooper said, catching her arm and pulling her into his body. She squealed, going from aggressive to flirty in an instant.
“You’re all sweaty. It’s sooo disgusting.”
I noted she wasn’t trying to get away. Cooper smiled down at her, a hint of something feral in his eyes. Yeah, okay—whatever smile he’d been giving me, it hadn’t held any of that kind of intensity.
Yours truly was officially chopped liver.
“I was just about to head out and grab a shower,” he told her. “Wanna come with me?”
She pouted. “I can’t. The girls and I need to get fixed up. I’ll see you at the bar, though, right?”
He looked down at her, offering a sexy, indulgent smile. “Can’t wait.”
“Perfect,” she said, reaching around to grab his ass for a quick squeeze. Then she turned and strutted back out without a word to me, her gaggle of girls following like well-trained geese. Sadie gave a little finger wave on the way. The door closed behind them with a cheerful little jingle, and I wondered why the hell I even bothered with Hallies Falls.
I missed Seattle.

So what if it had Brandon? I could drown him in Lake Washington. Problem solved.
“Sorry about that—Talia is a little high-strung,” Cooper said.
“Oh, I know all about her,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as catty as I felt. Cooper didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m new to town, but she’s been showing me around,” Cooper continued, stepping over to stand in front of me, hands shoved deep in his front pockets. “I should get going.”
“Of course—don’t let me keep you. What time do you think you’ll be in touch tomorrow?”
“Afternoon work?”
“No problem. Looking forward to hearing from you.”
He nodded and pushed through the door, walking down the street without a second look back. I locked up behind him, wondering why all the hottest guys were douchebags. Not that Cooper had acted like a douche, but he had to be my age or older—late thirties—and Talia was the same age as Sadie. She was also a raging bitch. There was only one reason a man like him would date a girl like that, and it had nothing to do with personality or character.
Cooper Romero might be beautiful, but obviously he was shallow. Suppose it was too much to hope for a man who could fix an air conditioner and have a soul at the same time.

❀ღ✿•* ̈`☆🐝🐝AUTHOR BIO🐝🐝☆ ̈`*•✿ღ❀

Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.