Friday, March 3, 2017
Thursday, March 2, 2017
Building Celebration House by Annette Drake Release Blitz
Book Title: Building Celebration house (Book 1 of The Celebration House Trilogy)
Author: Annette Drake
Genre: Women's Fiction
Release Date: March 1, 2017
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
Now, with her health failing, she leaves the bustle of Seattle behind and returns to Lexington, Missouri, the small town where she spent her childhood. Here, she sets out to restore an abandoned antebellum mansion and open it as a venue for celebrations.
Carrie’s unique gift allows her to build relationships with the mansion’s ghostly occupants, especially Major Tom Gentry, the handsome Civil War soldier who died 100 years before Carrie was born. He encourages and comforts her, though not in the physical way they both desire.
Will Carrie finish restoring the celebration house or will it finish her? And how can she plan a future with a man who has only a past?
Prologue
Carrie Hansen checked her watch a third time. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. How much longer was this office visit going to take? After working a twelve-hour night shift, she’d come straight here from the hospital. She wanted to go home.
Glancing around the small exam room, Carrie wondered what the name of the shade of beige paint was that covered the walls. Sit and Wait Off-white, she thought, or maybe, Calm-down Cream. She refused to sit on the exam table with its crinkly paper. She’d sat on enough crinkly paper, so she occupied one of the two office chairs in the corner and stared at a poster that listed the symptoms of congestive heart failure. Fatigue? Check. Shortness of breath? You betcha. Swollen legs and ankles? Yep again. Damn. She had almost all of those symptoms.
When Dr. Henry Lionel, her cardiologist, entered the small exam room, his nurse, Beth Kozera, came with him. Carrie knew both providers well. Beth sat in the chair next to her. Dr. Lionel pulled up the rolling stool he usually perched on during their frequent visits.
Carrie’s pulse quickened; they never both came in during an office visit.
Dr. Lionel took off his eyeglasses and cleaned them with his tie, stalling.
Carrie blurted, “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Neither nurse nor doctor said anything for a minute. Dr. Lionel put his eyeglasses back on and sighed. “It is, Carrie. I can show you the images from the echocardiogram, but here’s what matters: your ejection fraction has dropped again. Now, we estimate it’s about twenty percent. It was sixty after the transplant. The symptoms you report – fatigue, shortness of breath, difficulty lying flat – all point to one answer. Your new heart is failing.”
Carrie nodded. “I was afraid of that. What do we do now?”
“We contact the transplant team and work you up for another heart. At your age, you’re a strong candidate.”
“What’s Plan B?” Carrie interrupted.
“There isn’t one. We can adjust your medications, but it’s another transplant or…”
Carrie finished his sentence. “Or I die.”
Silence filled the small room.
“How long?” she asked.
He looked at her over his glasses and smiled. “C’mon, Carrie. You and I both have been asked that question time and time again by patients’ families. We both know there’s no answer. This is overwhelming news. Take some time. Talk to your parents.”
Carrie grimaced. “I lost my dad last year, just before I got sick. Now this. I’m not sure how much more news my mom and sister can take.”
“You need time to process this,” Beth said.
Carrie squeezed Beth’s hand. “Thank you. You’ve always been so kind to me. But maybe time is the one thing I don’t have.”
“We’ll start the process of getting you back on the transplant list today. I’ll call the surgeon myself,” Dr. Lionel said.
Carrie shook her head. “No. No. I won’t go through that again. I can’t. I’ve had enough of hospitals and doctors and surgery to last me – well, the rest of my life. No more.”
After she left the doctor’s office, Carrie returned to her small apartment. She shed her clothes and crawled into bed. Six hours later, when she awoke, she brewed a cup of tea and turned on her computer to comb through all the websites she’d already visited, looking for a kernel of good news. National Institutes of Health, American Heart Association, CardioSmart, and WomenHeart. Nothing.
She opened one of her favorite pages, IHeartOldHouses.com. She loved looking at the historic properties for sale. She clicked on the listing for Missouri and saw a new advertisement. Four bedroom, one bath, Greek Revival. A “project” home.
Carrie chuckled and clicked on the property. She scrolled through the photos that showed a home clearly in disrepair. When she saw the façade of the house, she gasped.
“Oh my God! I know this house.”
Carrie mapped it. Yep. It was on the same road where her grandmother’s home had been. That house was gone now, lost to land developers who had bulldozed it and turned the rolling farmland into another subdivision. But this house… this house needed saving. And so did she.
Songs of Insurrection by J.C. Kang blitz
Songs of Insurrection
J.C. Kang
(Daughter of the Dragon Throne #1)
Publication date: January 6th 2017
Genres: Adult, Fantasy
Princess Kaiya’s voice could charm a dragon.
Had she lived when the power of music could still summon typhoons and rout armies, perhaps Cathay’s imperial court would see her as more than a singing fool. With alliances to build and ambitious lords to placate, they care more about her marriage prospects than her voice.
Only the handsome Prince Hardeep, a foreign martial mystic, recognizes her potential. Convinced Kaiya will rediscover the legendary but perilous art of invoking magic through music, he suggests her voice, not her marriage, might better serve the realm.
When members of the emperor’s elite spy clan– Kaiya’s childhood friend Tian and his half-elf sidekick (or maybe he’s her sidekick?)– discover mere discontent boiling over into full-scale rebellion, Kaiya must choose. Obediently wedding the depraved ringleader means giving up her music. Confronting him with the growing power of her voice could kill her.
—
EXCERPT:
CHAPTER 1
Not-So-Chance Meetings
If marriage were a woman’s grave, as the proverb claimed, sixteen-year-old Princess Kaiya suspected the emperor was arranging her funeral. Entourage in tow, she shuffled through the castle halls toward the garden where General Lu waited. Given his notorious dislike of the arts, the self-proclaimed Guardian Dragon of Hua had undoubtedly envisioned a different kind of audition when he requested to hear her sing.
After all, she was dressed like a potential bride.
She buried a snort. The Guardian Dragon—such a pretentious nickname. The only real dragon, Avarax, who lorded over some faraway land, might make for a more appealing audience. A quick trip down his gullet would spare her a slow death in a marriage with neither love nor music.
And it wouldn’t matter what she wore.
The gaudy dress compensated for her numerous physical imperfections, but stifled the only thing that made her special. How was she supposed to sing with the inner robe and gold sash squeezing her chest, in a futile attempt to misrepresent her woefully underdeveloped curves? The tight fold of the skirts concealed her lanky legs, but forced a deliberate pace. At least the short stride delayed the inevitable, while preventing her unsightly feet from tripping on the hanging sleeves of the vermilion outer gown.
At her side, Crown Princess Xiulan glided across the chirping floorboards. Kaiya suppressed a sigh. If only she could move with the nonchalant grace of her sister-in-law, or even the six handmaidens trailing them. She dug her nails into clammy palms. Through this choreographed farce, appearances had to be maintained, lest she embarrass her father, the Tianzi.
Chin up, back straight. A racing heart threatened to ruin her already meager semblance of imperial grace. Eyes forward. Servants knelt on either side of the looming double doors, ready to slide them open. She forced a smile, with her best approximation of feminine charm. If only she’d lived before Dragon Songs had faded into legend, she could’ve sent the realm’s victorious hero fleeing with the song he supposedly wanted to hear.
An aging palace official stepped into her line of sight.
Singular focus on the doors broken, she blinked. Her fluttering pulse lurched to a stop as she blew out a breath.
His blue robes ruffled as he tottered forward with averted eyes and a bobbing head. He creaked down into a bow. “Emergency, Dian-xia,” he said, using the formal address for her rank. “The Tianzi commands you to greet a foreign delegation in the Hall of Bountiful Harvests.”
Author Bio:
JC Kang's unhealthy obsession with Fantasy and Sci-Fi began at an early age when his brother introduced him to The Chronicles of Narnia, The Hobbit, Star Trek and Star Wars. As an adult, he combines his geek roots with his professional experiences as a Chinese Medicine doctor, martial arts instructor and technical writer to pen epic fantasy stories.
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The Game Begins by Victoria Danann blitz
The Game Begins
Victoria Danann
Publication date: February 27th 2017
Genres: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Young Adult
When it came to the attention of the old ones that their creations, the Earth gods, had been playing games at the expense of humankind for millennia, they put a stop to it. But the rebellious gods were far too addicted to their games to give them up. After several summit meetings, they voted to use their own children as players and locate the playing field in the most treacherous environment in the known universe. High school.
To make it even more interesting, they would strip their children of their memories and withhold the rules of the game. The players believed they were ordinary kids until they were transferred to R. Caine High School. When odd things begin to happen, the players gradually realize they have special gifts or attributes. But that doesn’t mean they can’t die.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo
—
EXCERPT:
My name is Ever Moore.
I know. It makes me wince every time I say it. When I’m eighteen, I plan to have it legally changed to something that doesn’t make people laugh. But right now I’m stuck.
My dad thinks puns are the highest form of humor. He calls it ‘word play’. That’s right. I’m the spawn of nerds. My dad creates video games. My mother is an ethics professor at UCLA who thinks the battle between good and evil begins at home.
If you want to know just how weird it can get at the Thanksgiving table, I can go one better. My grandfather was a big deal rock star in the seventies. You wouldn’t know the name of the band. So there’s no point in name dropping. After a visit, he exits with a two-finger peace salute like all the other well-adjusted hippie grandparents, but he doesn’t say, “Peace.”
He says, “Rock steady.”
Ugh!
My family is big on manners. They’re too strict to let me say what I think, especially about Buzz’s love life. My grandfather doesn’t want to be called Grandpa or Grandad or Gramps or anything close to normal. Oh no. He wants to be called ‘Buzz’. I have no idea why. That is not his name.
Anyway, the best protest I can mount is rolling my eyes. I keep trying to get his attention and roll my eyes back further into my head when he does the ‘rock steady’ thing, but he will not be deterred.
Anyway I was leading a completely typical and deliciously angsty teenage life in Austin, Texas when my parents were suddenly offered jobs in the LA area at the same time. It was weird, but weird is part of my normal. Always has been.
Since my grandad, the rocker, still lives in LA with the latest girlfriend who’s barely legal – she’s two years older than I am and her name is Charmin, yes, like the toilet paper. If that was my name, I’d have the decency to go by something like Charm, which would really be making lemonade from lemmons. But not Charmin. I don’t think she’s bright enough to understand what people are thinking whenever they say her name. Anyway, with the jobs and the fact that ‘Buzz’ lives there, moving seemed like a good idea.
To them.
Author Bio:
New York Times bestselling authorof seventeen romances including paranormal, scifi, fantasy, contemporary, and teen. Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES and PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL OF THE YEAR the past FOUR YEARS IN A ROW. This past year two of her series took the top two places and two of her books took first and second place Paranormal Romance of the Year category. - Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.
Victoria is co-host of the popular ROMANCE BETWEEN THE PAGES podcast.
→ www.romancecast.comWEBSITE: → www.VictoriaDanann.com
FACEBOOK: → www.facebook.com/victoriadanannbooksThe rich characterizations come from being a lifelong student of behavior, casually, and a serious student of behavior academically. She has also studied comparative religion, myths, and Dark Ages history.
Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.
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Rescued by the Wolf Kristal Hollis
Rescued by the Wolf
Wahyas of Walker’s Run Series
Book Two
Kristal Hollis
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Harlequin Nocturne
Date of Publication: March 1, 2017
ISBN: 0373139837
ASIN: B01JBQ3HQW
Number of pages: 304
Word Count: 74,000
Book Description:
She’s not afraid to run with his wolf.
When a poacher killed his mate, Rafe Wyatt lost his future. While the Wahyas of Walker's Run have been pulling him back from the brink, he's certain he won't have another chance at love. That is, until Grace comes to town.
Grace Olsen is a woman without roots. That's exactly how she likes it, until a sojourn in a small, close-knit Appalachian community gives her a new vision of what home could be—and so does Rafe. He was supposed to be nothing more than a casual lover, just as wary of commitment as she is. When their raw attraction becomes something deeper, more complex, they could be looking at a new future together. But someone close to them both would rather see Grace dead than let her be with the man—and the wolf—she's grown to love.
Excerpt:
“Rafe, wake up!”
He didn’t move, snort, or
otherwise acknowledge her presence.
otherwise acknowledge her presence.
Grace eased off the Murphy bed,
slid her feet into pink slippers, maneuvered between the coffee table and
couch, and reached over Rafe to the alarm clock balanced on the top frame of
the couch, the LED face flipped so that the time flashed into the cushion instead
of into the room.
slid her feet into pink slippers, maneuvered between the coffee table and
couch, and reached over Rafe to the alarm clock balanced on the top frame of
the couch, the LED face flipped so that the time flashed into the cushion instead
of into the room.
In a sudden whirl, she slammed
onto the couch seat cushions. Rafe’s steely fingers clamped around her wrists,
pinning them over her head. She stared into icy, cobalt blue eyes that would’ve
stolen her breath if she hadn’t lost all air when he plastered his hard, hot
body onto hers.
onto the couch seat cushions. Rafe’s steely fingers clamped around her wrists,
pinning them over her head. She stared into icy, cobalt blue eyes that would’ve
stolen her breath if she hadn’t lost all air when he plastered his hard, hot
body onto hers.
The
short crop of his auburn hair stuck out in different directions. A pillow
crease cut across one high cheekbone and dipped into the reddish stubble
dusting his strong jaw. His firm, full lips would look much more kissable if he
smiled.
short crop of his auburn hair stuck out in different directions. A pillow
crease cut across one high cheekbone and dipped into the reddish stubble
dusting his strong jaw. His firm, full lips would look much more kissable if he
smiled.
Squared
shoulders rose above a sculpted chest swirled with soft tufts of hair, and a
quarter-sized scar marred the taut, tan skin over his right ribs.
shoulders rose above a sculpted chest swirled with soft tufts of hair, and a
quarter-sized scar marred the taut, tan skin over his right ribs.
Her
gaze slid over the ripples of his abs and the sharp indents of his hips. She
couldn’t follow the treasure line that arrowed down from his belly button
because he was lodged intimately against her pelvis.
gaze slid over the ripples of his abs and the sharp indents of his hips. She
couldn’t follow the treasure line that arrowed down from his belly button
because he was lodged intimately against her pelvis.
A
giddy heat rushed her body and struck her with the acute awareness of a virile
man in his prime.
giddy heat rushed her body and struck her with the acute awareness of a virile
man in his prime.
“Never
sneak up on me, Grace.” Rafe’s laser-intense eyes burned holes straight through
her body. “It’s dangerous.”
sneak up on me, Grace.” Rafe’s laser-intense eyes burned holes straight through
her body. “It’s dangerous.”
No
doubt.
doubt.
From
his deeply etched scowl to his silent, panther-like movements, she needed no
further warnings. He was dangerous on all levels.
his deeply etched scowl to his silent, panther-like movements, she needed no
further warnings. He was dangerous on all levels.
-------------------
Rafe
sat on the couch in the living area of the suite, opened the fast food bag and
methodically set three wrapped sandwiches, an extra-large order of fries,
napkins and a plastic spoon on the small round table.
sat on the couch in the living area of the suite, opened the fast food bag and
methodically set three wrapped sandwiches, an extra-large order of fries,
napkins and a plastic spoon on the small round table.
“How
you can eat like that and not have an ounce of fat?” She knew he didn’t because
she’d seen every inch of him.
you can eat like that and not have an ounce of fat?” She knew he didn’t because
she’d seen every inch of him.
“I
run almost every night.” Rafe unwrapped the first sandwich, wadded the paper
and dropped it in the bag.
run almost every night.” Rafe unwrapped the first sandwich, wadded the paper
and dropped it in the bag.
“You
don’t look like a runner. They’re usually lean and lanky.” Grace pulled a
bottle of water from the small in-room refrigerator and placed it on the table
for Rafe. “You’re thicker, more solid.”
don’t look like a runner. They’re usually lean and lanky.” Grace pulled a
bottle of water from the small in-room refrigerator and placed it on the table
for Rafe. “You’re thicker, more solid.”
Elbows
on his knees, holding the sandwich in front of his face, he took a giant bite,
chewed slowly and swallowed. “You think I’m dense and slow?” His gaze lifted to
her with a challenge in his eyes.
on his knees, holding the sandwich in front of his face, he took a giant bite,
chewed slowly and swallowed. “You think I’m dense and slow?” His gaze lifted to
her with a challenge in his eyes.
“No.”
She joined him on the couch. “Think of greyhounds and rottweilers. Greyhounds
are sleek, elegant and fast. Rottweilers are—”
She joined him on the couch. “Think of greyhounds and rottweilers. Greyhounds
are sleek, elegant and fast. Rottweilers are—”
“Blocky
and stout?”
and stout?”
Neither
of which described Rafe.
of which described Rafe.
“I
was going for strong and durable.” She picked up the spoon and shoveled a big
scoop of delicious, soft, vanilla ice cream drowning in hot fudge into her
mouth.
was going for strong and durable.” She picked up the spoon and shoveled a big
scoop of delicious, soft, vanilla ice cream drowning in hot fudge into her
mouth.
Her
entire body cheered.
entire body cheered.
“I
could give a greyhound a run for its life.”
could give a greyhound a run for its life.”
“Keep
eating junk and you won’t.”
eating junk and you won’t.”
Eying
the sundae in her hand, he halted before taking another bite of his sandwich. “Who’s the pot and who’s the kettle
in this conversation?”
the sundae in her hand, he halted before taking another bite of his sandwich. “Who’s the pot and who’s the kettle
in this conversation?”
“Hey.
This is my only vice.” She savored another bite. “Ummmm.”
This is my only vice.” She savored another bite. “Ummmm.”
“What
about coffee?”
about coffee?”
“Isn’t
a vice. Coffee is as essential as oxygen.”
a vice. Coffee is as essential as oxygen.”
“If
you stopped breathing, which would you rather have, mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation or a cup of coffee poured down your throat?” Rafe’s gaze lingered
on her mouth.
you stopped breathing, which would you rather have, mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation or a cup of coffee poured down your throat?” Rafe’s gaze lingered
on her mouth.
Her
lips tingled. She gave her spoon a slow, sensual lick. “Depends on who’s
providing the rescue breathing.”
lips tingled. She gave her spoon a slow, sensual lick. “Depends on who’s
providing the rescue breathing.”
FREE SAMPLE CHAPTERS: https://goo.gl/K5t5Ou
About the Author:
Raised in a small Southern town, Kristal Hollis has spent most of her life helping people and animals. When a family medical situation resulted in a work sabbatical, she began penning deliciously dark paranormal romances to escape the real-life drama. After the crisis passed, her passion for writing love stories continued. An RWA 2015 Golden Heart® Finalist, Kristal lives with her husband and two rescued dogs at the edge of the enchanted forest that inspires her stories.
Dax by Nana Malone blitz
Dax
Nana Malone
(The Player Series)
Publication date: February 28th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Sports
Money, power, prestige…trouble. Dax Coulter is … The Player.
Forget prodigal son, forget black sheep. Most of the Coulter family would just as soon disown Dax for his bad boy, womanizing ways. But, with his career in jeopardy and the Coulter legacy on the line, he needs to turn it all around. Too bad the one person who can help him, has legs for miles and curves for days…and is his best friend’s little sister. For once he can focus on the game and not on her body right?
Asha Wix is used to following all the rules. And with a family like hers that isn’t easy. She’s learned that to be seen and have merit, she needs to eat, breathe, sleep football. When she’s given the chance to change the reputation of league bad boy, Dax Coulter, she sees a chance to shine. Too bad, the sexy bad boy has her thinking about breaking all the rules and doing something a lot naughtier than sleeping football.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo
—
EXCERPT:
The awkwardness stretched between them until Asha couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Well, goodnight then. I’ll see you around at work, I’m sure.”
“I’ll walk you out and get you a car out the back.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll be—”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “You were seen with me out front. The paparazzi will be waiting.”
“Okay. Well, thank you.”
Dax ushered Asha to the back of the bar. As they shuffled through the crowd, the only thing she could feel was the warm press of his hand on her back as he guided her. Currents of electricity spread from that spot on her back to the rest of her body.
Holy hell, this was all kinds of inconvenient. Inconvenient is an understatement, honey. Her body was responding to him in a way that she’d never felt before, and it was more than inconvenient. More like a disaster. She’d felt the pull of attraction earlier today, and naïvely, she thought she’d be able to ignore it. Shove it under the rug. No such luck.
Dax was a professional athlete. That meant he went through women like Kleenex. And an uptight virgin was not going to get his attention for very long. Not like she’d intended to still be a virgin at twenty.
Okay, so maybe she hadn’t really done anything about that fact, either. She figured it would happen someday. But someday got replaced with studying, and doing everything in her power to gain her father’s love. She hadn’t really had time for boys.
Oh, and her brother was Damon Wix, so most guys avoided her, for fear he’d annihilate them.
At the back door, Dax spoke to one of the security guards, who then nodded and went outside.
“They’ll get you a cab, and let you know when it’s here.”
She blinked up at him and cleared her throat. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do the knight-in-shining-armor thing, but it’s appreciated.”
“Well, you were my dat—uh, meeting, person, thing, so…uh…” He sighed. “You came with me, so I’m making sure you get home safe. Look at me being the good guy.”
And just as soon as the sincerity was there, it was quickly driven out. Not to worry; now that she knew it was there, lurking under the surface, she knew she could get it back.
Luckily, the hallway wasn’t as crowded as the VIP area or the main club, but a mix of busboys, security, and wait staff ran back and forth at a quick clip. One of them bumped her, shoving her into Dax’s big body. Thanks to his quick reflexes, he steadied her in an instant, only for her to realize that her body was pressed against his like a plaster mold.
Dax stared down at her, his eyes going darker. More focused. His lips parted, and Asha couldn’t control the wild swing of her erratic heartbeat. Low in her belly, something hot and slick pulled at her, making her want…things. Things with him. Things she had no business wanting. Her nipples pebbled to hard peaks against his chest, as she fought for breath.
Luckily, she wasn’t the only one affected. Even as his pupils dilated, his breath came out in choppy spurts. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough. “Asha—” It was part question, part, I’m going to do very dirty things to you. Or, maybe that was just in her head.
He leaned his head down, and for a moment, Asha dared to breathe, dared to hope—
“Hey, Coulter, got that cab for you.”
In a flash, Dax set her away from him, and Asha’s head swam as she tried to focus. He licked his lips and took a very deliberate step back. “Let’s get you safely in a cab, yeah?”
Even as he shut the cab door behind her, Asha couldn’t help but wonder, what the fuck had just happened?
Author Bio:
USA Today Best Seller, Nana Malone's love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she "borrowed" from her cousin.
It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a precocious thirteen. She's been in love with kick butt heroines ever since. With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters.
While she waits for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, in the meantime Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.
Want to know when the next book is coming? Hit up her Newsletter here. You'll only get updated when there is a new release or a special promotion for her Sexy, Sassy Readers. http://eepurl.com/2PeXb
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cover reveal for Shopping for a CEO’s Wife by Julia Kent
Shopping for a CEO’s Wife
Julia Kent
(Shopping for a Billionaire, #12)
Publication date: April 25th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance
Snowbound. Sounds so romantic, with visions of cuddling before a roaring fire, hot chocolate spiked with brandy, and a secret elopement.
Wait. What?
My fiancé’s father won’t stop trying to turn our pending wedding into a three-ring media circus so he can get free publicity for his family’s Fortune 500 company. My mother has decided she’s done with All Things Wedding and asks her teacup Chihuahua for mother-of-the-bride advice.
They’ve all gone certifiably mad.
Then the stress from the wedding puts my mother in the hospital, I scream at my future father-in-law in front of a camera crew and the video goes viral, and the romantic wedding that started with Andrew’s grand Pride and Prejudice proposal looks less like Jane Austen and more like Dostoyevsky.
So what do you do when you’re a fixer and you can’t fix something?
You give up on it.
Not on Andrew, silly.
The wedding.
Shopping for a CEO’s Wife is the 12th book in Julia Kent’s New York Times bestselling Shopping series. As Shannon and Declan enjoy their newlywed bliss, Andrew’s father wants to exploit Amanda and Andrew’s nuptials, much to Amanda’s chagrin. Can she learn to stand up to her future father-in-law and fight for what’s right? But the real question is: will Spritzy the teacup Chihuahua end up being a flower girl?
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Author Bio:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.
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