Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Release day Blitz! Sensing You (Sensing #1) by J.M. Adele

Title: Sensing You
Series: Sensing #1
Author: J.M. Adele
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Suspense Romance
Published: March 30, 2016
Gift or curse?

Ronnie has inherited her granny’s gift of a sixth sense. But for her it’s not a gift, it’s a curse. She’s unable to trust anybody with her secret, unable to form any meaningful relationships beyond what she has with the woman who shares her abilities. She’s learned to hide behind a solid wall of bitchiness.

When the ghost of a persistent young woman infiltrates Ronnie’s world, she can no longer avoid the visions plaguing her. Reluctantly, she starts to open up to friendship, happiness and love, discovering that fate has more surprises in store for her future than she imagined. Including a man who might actually be able to understand the pain she harbours under her tough exterior.

But as she learns more about her gift she finds herself in situations she isn’t prepared for. Now she’s in grave danger. Will she be able to stop a madman before she becomes his next target?


Sensing You Excerpt © J.M. Adele 2016

The imposing beauty of old Government House filled my vision. I stood like a statue on the perfectly manicured lawn in front of the sandstone magnificence. My stomach tumbled, and the skin of my neck and arms prickled with fear and excitement. I loved old buildings. Old, haunted buildings. I just couldn’t bring myself to go inside them. I spent a great deal of time avoiding spirits, so the idea of putting myself in their path, on purpose, went against my instincts. Ridiculous, I know.  But this was all about taking back control.
I pouted my lips, and slowly breathed in and out through my nose, shaking my arms and legs in preparation for battle. Stepping into the building, I could almost feel the people who’d lived here generations before. It smelled of ingrained dust. Not the dirty kind. Just the irremovable layering of years in the pores of every surface. Rich burgundy shaded the walls, complementing the rich, dark wood of the windows and doors. This was the womb of the house, dark and crowded, but cosy.
The receptionist started her welcome speech, offering me a brochure, and pointing the way to the courtyard cafĂ© where I ‘might like to end my tour’. Not likely. I took it by my fingertips, careful not to make contact, and moved past the people watching a documentary on a small screen. Immediately, I was drawn to the Governor’s Library, and not because of the books. I could see her. A maid wearing a black dress with layers of skirts and a white apron. She bustled around, dusting every surface. Humming quietly, quite happy in her work. A relieved breath eased from my lungs. I could do this. The smile that stretched my face felt foreign, but welcome in this public place.
I worked my way back to the winding staircase that led to the art gallery. Yet another reason I was drawn to this place. The display of William Robinson’s works. He won the Archibald Prize two times. Twice! He was more of an expressionist than a realist. A misfit like me appreciated the individual interpretation of his views on life.
I wandered through the bedrooms turned into art displays, until I reached the self-portrait of the artist with his brother, clad in opposing outfits. Comfy PJ’s versus knowledge and power. Both of them depicted with solemn expressions. The laugh bubbled up from my gut, escaping without my permission, just like the smile I’d been wearing before. It felt fucking awesome to let it out. Until I heard a deep laugh join the melody of mine.
My tailbone throbbed at seeing him again. He was laughing at my shoes, not the painting. What’s so funny about my sneakers? I watched as his eyes travelled over me, the pupils growing larger despite the bright light streaming in the windows. My heart pounded, and my muscles tightened in response. I wanted to run before they reached my face, but I was too slow. He looked at me, rendering me speechless with his smile. He didn’t smile like that before. Given the circumstance of our past meeting, I probably would’ve slapped it off his face. Now, it’s an art work all on its own.
My heart galloped along, out of control. Lord knows where it wanted to go, but it definitely felt like it wanted to leave my chest and leap into someone else’s. It was scaring the shit out of me. His smile faded a little and he took a step back, and said something about the artwork. I couldn’t answer. My vocal chords had checked out on me, apparently on board with the travel plans taking place inside my rib cage.
His boots thumped against the floorboards as he retreated another step. He was looking at me strangely, continuing to prattle about the painting. I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, but his feet spoke for him. Two times he backed away… Twice. I was used to it. I encouraged it. I couldn’t afford to let people in. But watching him stand there looking scruffy and dangerous… holy shit… he was sexy. I didn’t want him to back away. I wanted him to take a step closer. But those buckled, biker boots backed up, slicing a piece off my tough exterior as they went. With my vulnerable centre exposed, the second step cut even deeper. I couldn’t let it happen again. So I ran.
That’s what I do. I’m good at it.
J.M. Adele is the author of the contemporary romance novella, Remembering Home, and paranormal romance, Sensing You—coming soon. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her husband, three boisterous boys and two geriatric Labradors.

Working as a nurse in a former life allowed her to meet all sorts of wonderful people and gain many different perspectives on life. Her love of, and addiction to stories prompted characters of her own to take up residence in her daydreams. When they became more insistent, she finally took pencil to paper.
Hosted By: 
 

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

SALE!!! Inked On Paper by Nicole Edwards!

That's right! Nicole Edwards second ever STAND-ALONE is ON SALE!

Book: Inked on Paper
Author: Nicole Edwards 
Publisher: Nicole Edwards Limited (Self Published)
Release date: January 12, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance M/F ( I know, right! Who knew!!)
Available HERE!  




Eight minutes after I stepped off the elevator, thirty seconds faster than the last time—because, you know, my life had become so fucking routine that I’d started timing that shit—after enduring the record-breaking, twenty-seven-degree low—hey, this was Texas—I stepped into the coffee shop around the corner from my condominium building, inhaling the scent of homemade blueberry scones and freshly brewed coffee.

“Mornin’, Jake,” the young woman behind the counter greeted as I approached, her smile friendly, her gaze inquisitive.

“Morning, Kim.”

“The usual?” she asked, looking up at me, one hand cocked on her hip.

Staring into the glass display case, I perused the items momentarily as though I might actually choose something different than the usual. For the past six months, I’d been coming to the coffee shop at least once every two or three days, ordering a blueberry scone and a strong, black coffee—not exactly the thing that would help my bad boy image. Then again, I was kind of a simple guy. Perhaps I kept my order uncomplicated because the rest of my life was chaotic enough. Whatever the reason, I didn’t see change in my near future.

Looking back at Kim, I smiled. “Yeah. The usual.”

As Kim rang me up, her dark eyes darted down to the notebook in my hand. “That’s new. What happened to the laptop?”

I followed her gaze down to the leather-bound book. “Thought I’d try something different today.”

Kim laughed. “But you still ordered a blueberry scone and black coffee.” It wasn’t a question. She cocked her head. “Sounds about right.”

Passing her my credit card, I shrugged. “Can’t step too far outta the box. Wouldn’t wanna get hurt.”

Kim gifted me with another laugh, handed back my card, and went to work on getting my order ready. While I waited, I glanced around, looking for an empty table. There was only one left—in the far corner near the window, which would be perfect provided I could get to it before anyone else did.

“Here you go,” Kim called out. “Go wild.”

Everyone loved to do the play on my last name. Rarely did I ever hear anyone come up with something unique, but I’d learned to play along. “Funny.”

“I try.” Kim waved me off with her fingers. “Now go write something. We’re all waiting for the next masterpiece.”

Yeah, so was I.

I secured the notebook under my arm, grabbed the scone, a napkin, and my coffee, then weaved my way through the people scattered about. Careful not to run into anyone, I was about to give myself a mental pat on the back for making it all the way through without any mishaps, right up until…

Shit. “Sorry,” I muttered when I bumped the arm of a woman who’d been hunched over one of the round tables. At least I thought it was a woman. Too small to be a man, but thanks to the hood covering their head, I couldn’t be sure.

Turning, I slid into the chair at the table in the corner, dropping my load before lifting my gaze to see who I’d bumped and if they were ready to burn me alive with a scathing glare.

Definitely a woman. But she wasn’t scowling back at me. In fact, she wasn’t looking at me at all. Instead…

My eyes dropped to the notebook in front of her. “Are you … playing tic-tac-toe?” I found myself blurting before I could think better of it.

The woman’s gaze lifted, and I was then staring into eyes the color of storm clouds, such a mesmerizing shade that I was momentarily stunned, my hangover all but forgotten.

Damn, she was pretty.

And I’d never been more grateful that I’d stopped to take a shower than I was right then.

A lock of hair peeked out from beneath the thin white hoodie she wore, and my attention drifted down to her shoulder as I tried to decipher the color. Pink? Orange? I know, being an author, I should’ve said something along the lines of magenta or salmon, but seriously. Being a guy, I didn’t give colors fancy names. Regardless, I wasn’t quite sure what the color was, but I was fairly certain that it wasn’t natural.

“Yeah,” she said softly, the labret piercing beneath her lip twinkling briefly before she returned her attention to her game.

“Who usually wins?” I asked, dropping my eyes back to the paper, then up again as I pushed the hood off my head, secretly hoping she’d do the same.

She didn’t.

Those gray eyes raised to meet mine once more, and this time one of her eyebrows lifted, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the corner of her lip curled slightly. Interesting. Her lips… I tried not to stare, but it wasn’t easy. Not only did she have a piercing beneath her lip, she had a ring that circled her plump bottom lip twice (or appeared to) on the right side, as well as a diamond stud in her nose and a barbell in her left eyebrow. Even with those distracting me, I couldn’t help but notice her glossy mouth matched the color of her hair.

As did her eyebrows. Did women actually do that now? Color their eyebrows?

“I normally do,” she said, and I assumed she was referring to winning the games, not coloring her eyebrows. Unless of course she was a mind reader, then … well, if that were the case, then I probably needed to censor my thoughts, because yes, more than once since my ass had hit the chair, I’d pictured her naked.

Small, curvy … fucking naked.



Another smile flirted with the corner of her coral-pink lips. (Yep, I went there—coral. My new favorite color.)










New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nicole Edwards lives in Austin, Texas with her husband, their three kids, and four rambunctious dogs. When she’s not writing about sexy alpha males, Nicole can often be found with her Kindle in hand or making an attempt to keep the dogs happy. You can find her hanging out on Facebook and interacting with her readers - even when she’s supposed to be writing.
Nicole also writes contemporary/new adult romance as Timberlyn Scott.

Nicole would love to hear from you!

Monday, March 28, 2016

Cover Reveal! Chimera by Stephie Walls

Title: chimera
Author: Stephie Walls
Genre: Adult, Dark Romance
Published: May 11, 2016
I couldn’t be anything other than a romantic at heart — it’s my nature, it’s who I am. But this isn’t a typical story of traditional love. It isn’t a fairy tale. No happily ever after neatly tied up with a shiny bow. It’s a memoir of the reality left behind in the wake of grief — the desolation, the resurrection, and final culmination life offers to the fallen.

This is a journey through love…the love of self, love of a friend, and sometimes love is ugly, messy —destructive.

My name is Bastian Thames…and this is my story.

I've lived all over the country but have made Greenville, South Carolina my home for the last 20 of my 37 years. I have a serious addiction to anything Coach and would live on Starbucks if I could get away with it. If you follow me on Facebook you'll also find that I'm slightly enamored with Charlie Hunnam. I'm an avid reader (literary whore to be more precise) averaging around 300 novels a year. I have a penchant for great love stories, sensual poetry and am a romantic at heart.

I currently work full-time in the Greenville area and fill my "extra" time with writing contemporary romance novels with a hint of erotica. I couldn't do it without the support of my family and friends who push me to keep going when I don't have the confidence or patience.
Hosted By: