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Monday, October 31, 2016

EVE OF ALL HALLOWS Natalie-Nicole Bates Haunted Halloween Spooktacular



EVE OF ALL HALLOWS
Natalie-Nicole Bates

Genre: paranormal romance novelette

Publisher: Leap of Faith Publishing

Date of Publication: 10/2015

ASIN: B016T7FGP6

Number of pages: 34
Word Count: 10, 500

Book Description:

As Jamie travels the world in search of fulfillment, she arrives in Majorca the day before Halloween. Almost immediately, she realizes all is not what it seems. There are no tourists, and everyone is just a bit -- different. She meets a local tattooist named Carlito, a native of Peru. The attraction is instantaneous and intense. He makes her an unbelievable offer. But whether it means heaven or horror, she is not sure. When the Eve of All Hallows meets All Saints Day only Fate can decide the outcome.



Excerpt:

I think I will enjoy my time here.
Very much.
I’m taking in that magnificent view while I swirl a glass of red wine. Sometimes a girl gets lucky. It’s well past midnight now, but I can’t sleep. Beyond the beauty of my surroundings, of the warmth on my skin this late in the year, is the sound of the sea. I am truly alone in my own little nirvana. No one knows where I am, and I don’t care.
There’s a flash of movement from the corner of my eye. Maybe I’m not as alone as I thought. My heart flutters a little. Then I see him walking the beach towards the water, under the great moon above. My magnificent view just got even more spectacular. He’s fully naked.
My attention is riveted now as I sip my wine. I can’t see a lot of detail in the darkness, but I can see he is tall, with long hair. Nicely built, and if my eyes don’t deceive me, well-endowed as well. Now, this is a very interesting development.
I watch as he enters the water, and I shiver just a little as if my own skin was touched by the cool waters. He disappears momentarily beneath the dark sea, and emerges, throwing back his long hair. I know I should look away, I should respect his privacy, but I cannot. I am a voyeur in my own little world.
I’m not really sure how much time I spend watching him. Perhaps only a few minutes, maybe even an hour. He emerges from the waves, a mere silhouette now in the moonlight. He stops and looks straight to me. My first reaction is to want to drop to the floor. But my mind tells me he cannot see me in the darkness.
So, if he cannot see me, why does he stare in my direction?



A Quick History of the Jack O Lantern
By Natalie-Nicole Bates

I was born on Halloween day. This I suppose is the reason for my love of all things Halloween. My favorite part of the holiday isn’t the trick or treating or the fancy costumes, not even the birthday cake and the Halloween themed birthday gifts.
No, for me it was, and still is the choosing of the perfect pumpkin for carving into the slightly imperfect Jack O Lantern (you must know that I am artistically challenged – so the slightly imperfect remark).

But to understand the (supposed) origins of the Jack O Lantern, we must first briefly discuss the pumpkin. Those beautiful globes of orange goodness whose remnants become pies, cookies, muffins, and seeds. Or wind up on the compost heap.

The name pumpkin dates back to Greek origin. Pepon or large melon. It was translated into Pompon by the French. The English then translated pompon to Pumpion. In The Merry Wives of Windsor, Shakespeare makes mention of Pumpion. Pumpkins are also a large mention in such classics as Cinderella, Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater, and of course, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Native Americans roasted pumpkins on an open fire, and dried strips of pumpkin were woven into mats. The earliest pumpkin pies were baked over hot ashes. The Colonists sliced off the top, removed the seeds, added spices, honey, and milk before baking. A handy baking vessel and treat all in one.

The Jack O Lantern has been around for centuries. The story goes that an Irish fellow by the name of Stingy Jack once invited the devil over for drinks. In true stingy style, Jack didn’t want to pay for the drinks, so he suggested the devil turn himself into a coin, and Jack could pay. The devil did so (how incredibly foolish), and Jack pocketed the coin. He kept the coin in his pocket near a silver cross, thus not allowing the devil to reanimate. Eventually the devil was free, but Jack managed to trick him at least two more times. Each time Jack extracted a promise from the devil not to claim his soul if he should die.

You know nothing good was coming of this.

So Jack died one day, and God told him to hit the road, he wasn’t allowing such a cad into heaven, so Jack paid his friend the devil a visit in hell. Well, the devil, still seething about the multiple tricks perpetrated upon him by Jack, also told him to hit the road, he certainly wasn’t welcome in hell, either. He gave Jack a burning lump of coal and sent him off into the night. Jack carved a hole in a turnip, placed the lump of burning coal inside, and has been using it to light his way ever since. Doomed to roam the earth forever and ever. The Irish referred to this ghostly figure with a lamp as Jack of the Lantern. In time this changed to Jack O’ Lantern.
Frightened by the possibility of Stingy Jack or other malevolent spirits haunting their neighborhoods, folks in Ireland and Scotland began carving scary faces into turnips and potatoes, beets were used in England, and placing them in their windows to scare the spirits away. As immigrants made their way to America, the glorious pumpkin became the go-to fruit for this task.

I hope you enjoyed this brief history of the pumpkin and the Jack O Lantern. Happy Halloween!

About the Author:

Natalie-Nicole Bates is a book reviewer and author.

Her passions in life include books and hockey along with Victorian photography, Frozen Charlotte dolls, and antique poison bottles. Natalie contributes her uncharacteristic love of hockey to being born in Russia.

She currently resides in the UK where she is working on her next book and adding to her collection of 19th century post-mortem photos.

Visit Natalie online at www.natalienicolebates.com


Twitter: @BatesNatalie https://twitter.com/BatesNatalie



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Batten Down the Hatches by Roxanne D Howard



Batten Down the Hatches
Costa Mesa Series
Book One
Roxanne D Howard
Publisher: Loose Id
Release Date: October 25, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-68252-230-1
Genre: Contemporary, Holiday, Halloween
Word Count: 26,242
Book Description:
Piper Goldhirsch is the head reporter for Business Buster, an Undercover Boss-esque tabloid exposé show. While it was never her dream job, it pays the bills. When she attends a masked Halloween Ball and has a passionate affair in the billiard room with a sexy costumed pirate captain who calls himself Captain Jack, what starts out as a few kind words and exchanged kisses soon transforms into the greatest sex of her life, and she’s haunted by the powerful magic between them. Piper parts ways with the mysterious stranger, and assumes she’ll never see him again… until he becomes her job’s next target.
Captain Jack Spencer runs his own brand new whale watching company, Ahoy, Matey, on the outskirts of Costa Mesa and Balboa Island. He’s so good at it he’s garnered the attention of rival companies. Piper is called in by Jack’s nemesis to go undercover on an ocean tour to expose him, and reveal his alleged illegal tricks that have made his business so successful in a short amount of time. But when Piper realizes he’s the same sexy man she slept with at the Halloween Ball, she’s emotionally conflicted. Jack is unable to forget the woman from Halloween, and when they do meet up again, they can’t keep their hands off each other. It’s time to Batten Down the Hatches, because the waves are about to get wild!

 Excerpt:
“Help me down?”

He ignored the hand, scooped her up, and lifted her bridal-style off the pool table. He helped her find her feet. She smoothed down her costume. “My, my. Chivalrous and everything. Thank you. I’m glad we waited to have sex, Jack. Really.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I hope it was worth the time.”

“Oh, it was.”

She crinkled her nose up at him, and he wanted to gobble her up. “You’re a funny one, aren’t you?”

“So they tell me.” She looked around the floor. “Where are my panties?”

In my trouser pocket, Legs, but you’re not getting them back. He blinked a little too innocently. “I have no idea.” Her surly smirk told him she’d sooner believe in the Headless Horseman.

“Right. Well, Captain, that was one hell of a pleasure cruise. I’ll have to hop aboard some other time.” She smoothed down her hair and looked around.

Ouch. He stepped forward. “Piper, listen, I’m not some sleazy—”

She patted his shoulder—patted it, as if he were her puppy. Her eyes were soft, but her tone meant business.

“No. It was a nice ride. Amazing. The best I’ve ever had, actually. But let’s not kid ourselves or pretend this is more than an incredible quickie, okay? A nice memory we’ll both hold onto and never forget, remember?”

He frowned. He didn’t want it to end like this. Hell, he didn’t want it to end. But it was too late, because with a gentle kiss on the lips and a whispered good-bye, she slipped out of the room.
* * * *


When Piper walked out after the best sex of her life, she thought she’d feel empowered at having taken control of the situation. She was by all rights an alpha female, and that’s how she liked it. But a wave of regret hit her as she slid into the seat in the back of the company limo. Had it been a mistake? What if she never saw him again? Her mom always said a person’s soul was in their eyes, and he had rich, compassionate eyes, like a deep sea. She leaned against the limo headrest and folded her arms, the feel of him buried inside her so fresh they might as well still be fucking. And he’d felt good, phenomenal, like he’d been designed to be a part of her.

She wrestled with her thoughts on the way back to her condo. She almost signaled the driver to turn around but never did. It turned out to be the biggest regret of her life.
* * * *



A knock rattled her dressing-room door.

“Goldhirsch! Get in the conference room,” Larry Gunn barked.

Piper removed her crossed ankles from the top of her vanity tabletop and glanced at the door, annoyed. She’d been focused on an article in Psychology Today about the pros and cons of one-night stands. Try as she might, she couldn’t get Captain Jack out of her head. Hell, she could still smell him, a whiff of sheer masculinity and sex. Sometimes, it felt like he held her close, like he was a phantom lover.

“Why?” she called out.

“I’ve got one for you.”

She stood up and took her jacket off the back of her chair. “Last guy said that to me got his nuts kicked in. Couldn’t walk for weeks.” She opened the door. Larry worked his gum like a cow chewing cud and looked bored.

“Yeah, look at me. I’m petrified. Get in the conference room, kid. This one should be good.”

“Weeks,” she hissed as she passed him.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Whatever it was must be serious. They had Tim Chidester, Business Buster’s private investigator they brought in for the heavier pieces, already seated, and another middle-aged man she didn’t know was also in attendance. She considered the stranger. He wore khaki shorts and a dark-blue polo shirt. She put him at somewhere in his midforties, with a red, receding hairline and thick glasses.

“Piper Goldhirsch, this is Peter Newman, owner of Newman Whale Watching Tours on Balboa Island.”

She shook the man’s hand across the table. “Nice to meet you, Peter.”

“Same here.”

She took a seat across from him and Tim and crossed her legs. “All right, let’s hear it.” Tim leaned forward and rubbed his hands together with glee, as if someone had handed him the world’s best Christmas present.

“So, to cut to the chase, Peter here says another tour company is stacking the deck.”

“That’s not what I said,” Peter snarled.

Piper leaned back and crossed her arms. “All right, why don’t you tell me what you said, then,” she said neutrally. The guy obviously had a stick up his ass about something.

“Okay. Well, on Balboa Island, there’s about eight of us whale-watching companies. We all have guidelines and laws we have to abide by, you know?”

Piper nodded, not sure where he was going.

“So, our job is to take people out and see as much wildlife in the ocean as we can within the limits of where we go. On a normal day, people will see a pod or two of dolphins, a group of sea lions, and sometimes if the gods smile on us, a whale. Ahoy, Matey is a new company. They started up less than a year ago by this young marine biology flunky.”

Spittle flew out of Peter’s lips as he talked about the man. Did this come down to some sort of personal vendetta? She steered clear of exposé pieces like that, as they were usually masked cat fights.

“Within eight months, the company went from obscurity on the bottom rung to land the best reviews and the most bookings on the island.”

Piper frowned. “So, how is it you think he’s corrupt? What if he’s just a good businessman?”

Peter rubbed his forehead and looked pissed. “Because out there, on the water, it’s not about business politics. It’s how capable you are as a boat captain. They claim they spot whales every single day, on every single outing, which is unheard of. Look, whales, they migrate, okay? You’re lucky to spot one or two a day, on a good day. This guy’s claimed to see blues, minks, and humpbacks, which are an endangered species and rarely come inland. He’s luring them, mark my word. My bet is he’s got buckets of krill he uses—”

Piper furrowed her eyebrows, confused. “What’s krill? I know next to nothing about marine biology.”

“Shrimplike plankton.”

Larry supplied her with the info as Tim slid an 8x10 glossy photo of what looked like cocktail shrimp across the table at her.

“This is krill. Peter thinks the Ahoy, Matey captain has his first and second mates pour buckets of these guys into the water while the boat’s in motion to attract more whales and up the stakes. The California Whale Watching Guidelines state it’s illegal to interfere, feed, or harass marine mammals. If this guy does, or he has a way to get the whales up close to spotlight his business, he could be sued for animal endangerment, and it goes against countless state and federal laws.”

“Yes, exactly,” Peter squeaked. “Exactly. Thank you.”

Piper curled her finger around her chin and contemplated what she’d heard. “Do you have any evidence of this?”

“No, but I’ve been around. Listen, I’ve been a tour guide on Balboa Island for over fifteen years now. No way is this guy that good. If you go out there and record him like you do on your shows, I bet you’ll get something.”

Larry put his hand on the table. “Peter, would you step out of the room for a few minutes? We need to discuss this with Piper. There’s an espresso machine down the hall and some pastries, if you want to help yourself.”

Peter looked between them. “Sure.”

He stood and leered at Piper. She inwardly cringed as he checked her out.

“I love your show, Miss Goldhirsch. I’ve seen every episode.”

“Thank you,” she said thinly.

When he was gone, she looked at Tim across the table. “I don’t think there’s enough of a story here, and I’m getting weird vibes off this guy. This is complete speculation on his part and what amounts to legal hearsay. Most people at least have texts, videos, an audio recording, something. This guy has no evidence other than an obvious massive chip on his shoulder.”

Tim held up a finger with a sharklike grin. “I don’t disagree, Piper, but hear me out. I did some digging, and there’s more to the Ahoy, Matey captain than meets the eye.”

He slid a closed manila folder across the table to her. She opened it, and Larry leaned over her shoulder to peer at it.

“Do you mind?” she sassed. She often had to assert the upper hand with Larry. Thank God for her take-no-prisoners Jewish backbone. “Or does my personal space mean nothing?”

Larry put his hands up and backed off.

“Thank you.” She looked down at a black-and-white photo, a side profile of a very handsome guy in an open-throated denim shirt. He leaned over a metal rail and stared out at the ocean with a soulful look about him. He appeared to be around her age in his midthirties, clean shaven with a strong jawline, straight nose, and short, thick brown hair tousled from the wind. “He’s cute.”

“That’s Captain Jack,” said Tim.

Piper’s imagination went into overdrive as memories of last night crashed over her, the way he’d pounded into her and caressed her. She stared hard at the photo. Was it him? The side profile made it hard to tell. “If you start singing ‘The Princess Pat,’ I might have to join in.” Her voice shook as she tried to decipher from the features if it could be him. The crooked, sexy smile did look familiar. Very familiar. Oh, shit.
About the Author:
Roxanne D. Howard is an author with Loose Id. She has two titles published and one series coming out over the holidays. She is a U.S. Army veteran, and has a bachelor's degree in Psychology and English. She loves to read poetry, classical literature, and Stephen King. She is also an avid Star Wars fan, musical theater nut, and loves everything related to marine biology. She resides in the mid-western United States, and is the proud mother of two beautiful girls, several pets, and loves to spend time with her husband and children when she's not writing. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and she can be contacted at author@roxannedhoward.com.


To find out more, please visit her website at www.roxannedhoward.com




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Before Tomorrow by Pintip Dunn blitz


Before Tomorrow
Pintip Dunn
(Forget Tomorrow #1.5)
Published by: Entangled: Teen
Publication date: October 31st 2016
Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult

Prequel to the New York Times bestselling and award-winning novel, FORGET TOMORROW!

In a world where all seventeen-year-olds receive a memory from their future selves, Logan Russell’s vision is exactly as he expects — and exactly not. He sees himself achieving his greatest wish of becoming a gold-star swimmer, but strangely enough, the vision also shows him locking eyes with a girl from his past, Callie Stone, and experiencing an overwhelming sense of love and belonging.

Logan’s not sure what the memory means, but soon enough, he learns that his old friend Callie is in trouble. She’s received an atypical memory, one where she commits a crime in the future. According to the law, she must be imprisoned, even though she’s done nothing wrong. Now, Logan must decide if he’ll give up his future as a gold-star swimmer and rescue the literal girl of his dreams. All he’ll have to do is defy Fate.

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—

EXCERPT:

He could see her now, and it made him want to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. If he had known, he never would’ve let her come.

Her face was pale, so pale, and her eyes stood out like stars in the black sky. But they weren’t lustrous stars full of verve and sparkle; no, her stars were the ones at the end of their lives, the ones in danger of blinking out. Her bones looked fragile, her skin was as thin as parchment paper. Bruises decorated her arm like the latest fashion trends. In a mere week, she looked like this. In a week, she had transformed from a girl to an apparition.

His heart shook, and shame flooded him. I’m sorry, Callie. So sorry. I didn’t know. I thought this was what you wanted. I thought I was doing the right thing.

He hadn’t known—but he should’ve. He was the one with the connection to the Underground. The one with access to information other people didn’t have. He should’ve known, and he should’ve stopped her.

But then, so quickly he barely registered it, she crossed the floor and laid her hand on his chest. He blinked—and then blinked again. What was she doing? They had to get out of here.

“You feel amazing,” she said, oblivious to the urgency. She didn’t sound like herself, either. What was going on? And then she shuffled forward until their shoes were touching. He inhaled sharply and forgot everything else. The touch was nothing. He knew that. Synthetic rubber against synthetic rubber. But now they were connected in two spots. Everything inside him sizzled and popped. If she touched him anywhere else, he might explode.

She seemed determined to try. She trailed her hand across his chest, over his shoulders, up, up, up to his face. And then, she rubbed her fingers back and forth, and the breath shot out of him. He’d never felt anything so sweet, so exquisite. It felt so good it almost hurt. No, it did hurt, but if this were pain, he’d go to Limbo for an eternity.

Her fingers skipped to his lips—and he couldn’t take it anymore. His body broke free from the force that was paralyzing him. He could either grab her and kiss her senseless—or he could put a stop to this and get on with the mission.

He struggled. Oh, how he struggled and damned Fate to the moon and back. Every fiber in his body screamed, Do it! Kiss her now! And if they were anywhere else, if it were any other time, he would’ve.

But he couldn’t forget the bruises on her body. If he didn’t break her out now, he’d never be able to live with himself.

He reached up and covered her hand with his trembling fingers. Fate help him, if he was going to end this moment, he wanted at least one touch of his hand against hers. Something for him to remember during his sleepless nights.

He moved her hand from his lips, and it felt like he was dragging it through wet concrete. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he said hoarsely, “but we don’t have much time.”

Her eyes snapped into focus, and everything about her features sharpened. “You’re real?”

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Author Bio:

When her first-grade teacher asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, Pintip replied, “An author.” Although she has pursued other interests over the years, this dream has never wavered.

Pintip graduated from Harvard University, magna cum laude, with an A.B. in English Literature and Language. She received her J.D. at Yale Law School, where she was an editor of the YALE LAW JOURNAL.

Pintip is represented by literary agent Beth Miller of Writers House. She is a 2012 RWA Golden Heart® finalist and a 2014 double-finalist.

She lives with her husband and children in Maryland.

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Tru Blue by Melissa Foster blitz


Tru Blue
Melissa Foster
Publication date: November 9th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance

TRU BLUE is a sexy, dark stand-alone novel written in the same loving, raw, and emotional voice romance readers have come to love, and the deeply emotional literary prose women’s fiction readers have come to expect, from New York Times & USA Today bestselling, award-winning author Melissa Foster.

“With her wonderful characters and resonating emotions, Melissa Foster is a must-read author!” New York Times Bestseller Julie Kenner

“Melissa Foster is synonymous with sexy, swoony, heartfelt romance!” New York Times Bestseller Lauren Blakely

He wore the skin of a killer, and bore the heart of a lover…

There’s nothing Truman Gritt won’t do to protect his family–Including spending years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. When he’s finally released, the life he knew is turned upside down by his mother’s overdose, and Truman steps in to raise the children she’s left behind. Truman’s hard, he’s secretive, and he’s trying to save a brother who’s even more broken than he is. He’s never needed help in his life, and when beautiful Gemma Wright tries to step in, he’s less than accepting. But Gemma has a way of slithering into people’s lives and eventually she pierces through his ironclad heart. When Truman’s dark past collides with his future, his loyalties will be tested, and he’ll be faced with his toughest decision yet.

**

“You can always rely on Melissa Foster to deliver a story that’s fresh, emotional and entertaining. Make sure you have all night, because once you start you won’t want to stop reading. Every book’s a winner!” NYT Bestselling Author Brenda Novak

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—

EXCERPT:

TRUMAN GRITT LOCKED the door to Whiskey Automotive and stepped into the stormy September night. Sheets of rain blurred his vision, instantly drenching his jeans and T-shirt. A slow smile crept across his face as he tipped his chin up, soaking in the shower of freedom. He made his way around the dark building and climbed the wooden stairs to the deck outside his apartment. He could have used the interior door, but after being behind bars for six long years, Truman took advantage of the small pleasures he’d missed out on, like determining his own schedule, deciding when to eat and drink, and standing in the f**king rain if he wanted to. He leaned on the rough wooden railing, ignoring the splinters of wood piercing his tattooed forearms, squinted against the wetness, and scanned the cars in the junkyard they used for parts—and he used to rid himself of frustrations. He rested his leather boot on the metal box where he kept his painting supplies. Truman didn’t have much—his old extended-cab truck, which his friend Bear Whiskey had held on to for him while he was in prison, this apartment, and a solid job, both of which were compliments of the Whiskey family. The only family he had anymore.

Emotions he didn’t want to deal with burned in his gut, causing his chest to constrict. He turned to go inside, hoping to outrun thoughts of his own f**ked-up family, whom he’d tried—and failed—to save. His cell phone rang with his brother’s ringtone, “A Beautiful Lie” by 30 Seconds to Mars.

“F**k,” he muttered, debating letting the call go to voicemail, but six months of silence from his brother was a long time. Rain pelleted his back as he pressed his palm to the door to steady himself. The ringing stopped, and he blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d trapped inside. The phone rang again, and he froze.

He’d just freed himself from the dredges of hell that he’d been thrown into in an effort to save his brother. He didn’t need to get wrapped up in whatever mess the drug-addicted fool had gotten himself into. The call went to voicemail, and Truman eyed the metal box containing his painting supplies. Breathing like he’d been in a fight, he wished he could paint the frustration out of his head. When the phone rang for the third time in as many minutes, the third time since he was released from prison six months ago, he reluctantly answered.

“Quincy.” He hated the way his brother’s name came out sounding like the enemy. Quincy had been just a kid when Truman went to prison. Heavy breathing filled the airwaves. The hairs on Truman’s forearms and neck stood on end. He knew fear when he heard it. He could practically taste it as he ground his teeth together.

“I need you,” his brother’s tortured voice implored.

Need me? Truman had hunted down his brother after he was released from prison, and when he’d finally found him, Quincy was so high on crack he was nearly incoherent—but it didn’t take much for f**k off to come through loud and clear. What Quincy needed was rehab, but Truman knew from his tone that wasn’t the point of the call.

Before he could respond, his brother croaked out, “It’s Mom. She’s really bad.”

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Author Bio:

Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance (M/F, M/M, F/F), romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa's emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented. Her books have been recommended by USA Today's book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café. When she's not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.

Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.

Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on Facebook or her personal website.

Never miss a brand new release, special promotions or inside gossip again by simply signing up to receive your newsletter from Melissa.

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Blurb Blitz: Waking Savannah by Terri-Lynne Defino & The Crush by Heather Heyford




The Crush
by Heather Heyford
Waking Savannah
By Terri-Lynne Defino
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Contemporary Romance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
THE CRUSH
In the first of Heather Heyford’s new series, set in Oregon’s Willamette Valley wine country, the grape isn’t the only source of intoxication . . .
A Perfect Pairing
Juniper Hart has her dream job—or rather, her dream job has her. Under Junie’s management, the winery her late father started is finally getting noticed. But she’s lonely, deep in debt, and overwhelmed with work. Even if she had time to date, the only men she meets are smug, stemware-breaking hotshots like Lieutenant Manolo Santos, whose good looks and smooth charm don’t half make up for the sour taste he leaves on Junie’s palate.
After years as an army engineer and a childhood in a restaurant kitchen, Manolo can see Junie’s winery is about to go sideways—and he’s bursting with ideas to help. Except Junie’s far too magnetic for comfort. He left New Jersey to escape becoming one more Santos man shackled to a captivating woman and a failing family business. But in the misty hills of Oregon, with a sip of supple pinot on his tongue, pulling away is the last thing he wants to do . . .


WAKING SAVANNAH
Bitterly, Connecticut, has been a haven for a woman shattered by painful memories—until a handsome stranger appears and threatens to awaken the ghosts of her past…
For the last eleven years, Savannah Callowell has led a peaceful existence in Bitterly. As the owner of an old farm, she’s mostly kept to herself, not daring to let anyone get too close. None of her neighbors know that she’s haunted by tragedy, and she’s done everything possible to escape her ghosts. She thinks she’s succeeding, until her new foreman shows up—and he’s far from being the college kid she was expecting…
A worldly former professor, Adelmo Gallegos has his own reasons for wanting to hide out on Savvy’s farm, and he isn’t about to share them with anyone, not even his enticing new boss. Still, Ade can’t help himself, the more time he spends with Savannah, the more he longs to lure her out of her protective shell. But how can he convince her that opening her heart is the only way to heal? Especially since he too has secrets he’s unwilling to share? Only when the past catches up with them may they be able to free themselves of it…


~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt One:
The Crush
A pang of empathy hit him. “Don’t worry, Buttercup.” He crooked a knuckle under her chin. “Just wait till I get finished with this place. . . .”
That one square inch of skin fused them together like a magnet. His feet stepped closer of their own accord until the toes of his boots bumped hers.
Her lips relaxed and parted. He scrutinized every inch of her face, seeking fault . . . justification to quell his growing desire. It was true. Junie wasn’t a conventional beauty. Her features were a tad too strong, and freckles from working outside sprinkled her nose. But with no makeup diverting attention from them, her irises shone like sapphires. Even under the glaring summer sun, her naked skin was poreless, her cheeks downy as peach fuzz. She was like an organic fruit, imperfect on the surface but better for you in the ways that counted.
His body stiffened with lust. But this was no run-of-the-mill at- traction. An undercurrent of danger ran through it. His heart pounded like it did the moment his CO announced, “Operation mobile” unexpectedly and he knew all of his skills were about to be tested to the limit. At moments like that—when a man was never closer to death—he never felt more alive.
His fingers spread to cup her jaw possessively. He tipped her head back, sending her Ducks cap tumbling backward onto to the ground. Slowly, slowly his head descended until only inches sepa- rated their lips. His own jaw tightened with the effort of restraint. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to throw caution to the wind, rip that baggy white suit right off, and lay her down in the mid- dle of the vineyard in broad daylight. If she were any other woman . . .

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Heather Heyford learned to walk and talk in Texas, then moved to England (“Y’all want some scones?”). While in Europe, Heather was forced by her cruel parents to spend Saturdays in the leopard vinyl backseat of their Peugeot, motoring from one medieval pile to the next for the lame purpose of “learning something.” What she soon learned was how to allay the boredom by stashing a Cosmo under the seat. Now a recovering teacher, Heather writes romance, feeds hardboiled eggs to suburban foxes, and makes art in the Mid-Atlantic. She is represented by the Nancy Yost Literary Agency.
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Terri-Lynne Defino - Writer, cat-wrangler, sparklequeen. My first fantasy novel, Finder, was published by Hadley Rille Books in October, 2010, followed by: A Time Never Lived in 2012, and Beyond the Gate in 2013. October 2015 will see the release of Seeking Carolina (first in the Bitterly Suite Series) from Lyrical, an imprint of Kensington Publishing, and my first attempt at romantic women's fiction.
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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION
The authors will be awarding digital copies of both books on tour to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.







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Blitz for Gravity by A.B. Bloom

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Gravity

by A.B. Bloom
Publication Date: October 31, 2016
Genres: Young Adult, Paranormal, Romance


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Read for FREE in KindleUnlimited: Amazon

They are calling it the End of Days. The world is plunging into darkness, the days growing shorter and the nights longer. Meteor showers are falling to the earth and there are some who would take advantage of the growing darkness.


For sixteen year old Bronte Bell, her problems are closer to home. Since her birthday she’s become weaker, her bones breaking, her hair falling out and plagued with constant migraines. No one can explain why. Until a mysterious new boy arrives and tells her that everything is not as it seems. She is not what she seems.


Drawn into a war that divides the sky, Bronte is torn between her desire to save the world and her growing connection with Nick. But she will have to let go of reality as she knows it, if she is to accept her role in destiny before the Hunter, who has been tracking her since birth, finds and destroys any chance she has of making the choice which is her birthright to make.


Her destiny will change everything . . .


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About A. B. Bloom

Anna Bloom is a contemporary romance writer who writes about life as it happens. Combining a busy schedule of looking after two small children whilst working in a local school and completing The Uni Files series. Anna’s main aim in life is to create the perfect book which makes a reader laugh and cry at the same time, hopefully causing a convulsive (impossible to ignore) donkey noise. It’s a work in progress! Anna also spends a lot of time imagining kissing hot guys – all in the name of her art.

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