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Friday, November 9, 2018

LOBOS by Victoria Danann and Teresa Gabelman


LOBOS
Big Bend Wolves
Book One
Victoria Danann and Teresa Gabelman

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: dba 7th House, Imprint of Andromeda LLC     

Date of Publication: 11/09/18

Number of pages: 218
Word Count: 39k

Cover Artist: Victoria Danann

Tagline: Sometimes running away takes you straight to the thing you’re running from.

Book Description:

The Three Rivers Pack has been deeply embedded in Kerrville commerce and society for generations. They own businesses and hold government offices, including that of sheriff. But the influx of retirees and well-to-do building second homes in the Hill Country has squeezed the shifters for room to run.

The only answer is relocation to a less populated locale and that will require making a deal with the pack that holds that territory. The alliance struck by the two alphas is blood seal, a political mating between the Lobos alpha’s daughter and the Three Rivers alpha’s son. It’s the perfect solution that benefits both tribes. Except nobody asked Fleet Ryder and Dani Alvarez if they’re willing. And they aren’t.

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Excerpt:
The light was on
in the kitchen, which meant Marva was up. When he stepped through the kitchen
door not wearing a stitch of clothing, she looked him up and down with a
half-smirk and the same lusty interest she’d shown as a teenager. John Ryder
thought of himself as being a lucky man to have a mate who loved and craved his
body like they were newlyweds, after thirty years together. He returned her
smirk with a knowing smile, pulled her in close and kissed her long and deep.
When he pulled back, she sighed. He loved that sigh.
“I know that
look,” she said.
He kept her
tight against his naked body, but pulled his head back to make eye contact.
“What look is that?”
“The one that
says you’ve made up your mind about something important.”
  He broke away and grabbed the clothes he’d
left on the bench by the back door. As he began dressing, he said, “Yeah.”
The pensive tone
told her everything she needed to know. “And you’re not happy about it.”
She waited
patiently while he finished dressing. She’d been with him long enough to know
the difference between John, her mate, and John, the alpha.
At the moment he
was seeing the world through the filter of pack alpha. He’d speak when he was
ready and wouldn’t be rushed.
“Can I have some
of that coffee?” he said.
She turned,
poured and handed him a mug. “You want breakfast here or are you gonna eat at
the café?”
“Café.” He
leaned back against the kitchen counter and took a sip before saying, “We have
to go.”
“Go?” Marva
stopped what she was doing and turned with a question firmly registered in the
crease between her brows. “Go where?”
When his pale
gray eyes met hers, she recognized the gravity of the moment.
“I mean we have
to move,” he said quietly.
Marva sat down
heavily at the kitchen table trying to keep her shock from adding to the burden
her mate was clearly carrying with stoic pride. “You mean the whole pack.” It
wasn’t a question, but a verbal clarification.
Nodding, feeling
much older than his years, he simply said, “Yeah.”

It might have
come as a surprise to Marva. It would be a surprise to everybody in the pack.
And not the good kind. But truthfully, John had been mulling over the problem
for years. As alpha, survival of the pack was his responsibility. With an eye
on the encroaching population, he knew there was only one way it could end.
Move. Or be exposed as shifters with the vast shit chasm that promised.
Since the latter
was just not an option, they were going to have to prepare for a whole-pack
migration. Several lucrative business enterprises and a lot real estate was
about to go up on the market in Kerrville. But first, pack members had to be
told. And he wasn’t expecting even the most adventurous of them to be happy
about it. The final decision was his and making it meant that he owned the
outcome as well.

The pack was
gathered in the barn on the Ryder property. Everybody had brought pot luck.
They’d tried to enjoy the food and the company, but there was an undercurrent
of anxiety because every adult pack member could read the mood of the alpha
well enough to know something was up.
When the alpha
finally stood and announced his intention to move them, the responding silence
was suffocating. No one wanted to argue, but no one wanted to agree either.
At length, one of
the elders cleared his throat and said, “Where are we going, John?”
“I can’t say for
certain yet, Emmett. But I’ve been considering options for a long time. The
biggest issue is that there’s no such thing as a desirable place that isn’t
already occupied by a pack.” There were murmurs as people whispered to each
other their fears about what that might mean. John held up his hand. “I know.
We’ve had a good stay here. Most of us are connected to families who’ve been
here since before Texas was a Republic. Most of us have never lived any place
else.
“So I’m not
saying it’s going to be easy.” It hadn’t escaped the pack’s notice that he
hadn’t answered the question. “But I’m thinking Big Bend. Out around Alpine.”
The emotional
current that ran through the pack was mixed. Some were fearful about the
prospect of packing up and leaving everything for parts unknown. But mixed with
that was an undercurrent of excitement. 
When things
settled down, John went on. “Alpine is a small town, I grant you, but there are
opportunities there just like there are opportunities everywhere. We’ll make it
work just like we always have.” With a small smile he shook his head just a
little. “It’s wild out there. You’ll be free in ways you’ve never been free
here.”
“Doesn’t that
territory belong to the Lobos Pack?” Beverly Mossgreen spoke up.
John’s head
swiveled toward her and he stared for a couple of seconds. It wasn’t an
official correction, but it was enough unwanted attention from the alpha to
make her uncomfortable.
“Yes. Lobos. But
I have a plan.” John noticed that both his betas, who happened to be cousins of
his, stood opposite each other, off to the sides, leaning against the walls
with muscled arms crossed in front of chests. The pose looked casual,
leisurely, but would be read by the pack as absolute support for whatever the
alpha had to say. “A peaceful transition.”
“What is it?” A
female elder sounded anxious and he couldn’t blame her.
A move like the
one he was proposing would be hard on any of them, but especially so on those
who were older. His face softened for a second as he regarded her. “Don’t
worry, Evelyn. Everything will turn out fine.”
He looked over
the pack. “In the old days, we would have had to kill the alpha and any
loyalists who resisted a takeover. But that was the old days. We’ve made a lot
of changes. James owns the auto parts store. Raleigh is a real estate broker.
My own mate bakes fucking cookies!”
“I do not bake
fucking cookies!” Marva spoke up. “I run a bakery.”
The laughter
that rippled through the room helped to ease some of the tension.
“Right.” John
smiled her way. “Right,” he repeated. “I bet people in Alpine like cookies just
as much as people in Kerrville.”
“I don’t just
bake cookies,” she grumbled.
He gave her a
look that said, ‘First, I’m teasing you. Second, right now I’m speaking as the
alpha. Not as your mate. Take it up with me later. In bed.’
She got the
message and ducked her chin slightly in deference. He continued.
“Point is I
think it’s time for the old ways to move aside for better ideas. We’re going to
try for a bloodless coup.” He glanced at his betas. “Rake, James, and I are
going to head on out there and have a talk with the Lobos alpha and his top
people. We’ll offer a ‘buy in’ for a piece of their territory around Alpine. I don’t
know much about their finances, but I’m guessing that these days it’s hard for
even shifters to turn down cash.
“That’s the
first part of our offer. Folding money appeals to the two-legged half of our
nature. The second part is a little trickier because cash is useless in wolf
form. That’s why we need a deal sealed with blood.” He cleared his throat. “The
Lobos alpha has a daughter. Mating age. We’re going to arrange an alliance.”
The alpha paused
and looked over the gathering, faces almost as familiar as his own in the
mirror. He spotted his son in his usual spot, in a far back corner with his
friends. The gathering followed John’s line of sight and turned to look at
Fleet at the back of the room.
Fleet had been
softly chuckling at a joke, only half listening to his dad, when he realized
that everyone in the pack had turned to look at him. His world turned serious
in a heartbeat and he stood taller, pale gray eyes identical to his father’s,
going straight to lock the alpha’s gaze.
“Our son,
Fleet.” John nodded toward Marva even though everyone there knew full well that
she was Fleet’s mother. “And Lobos’ daughter.”
A range of
emotion flashed across Fleet’s features. Confusion. Shock. Anger. And again,
confusion, finally resolving in disbelief. He couldn’t possibly have heard
right. Could he?
If he was human,
he’d tell his father to fuck off. But Fleet Ryder wasn’t human. He was a wolf
shifter with two choices; obey the alpha or leave the pack. Since the latter
wasn’t really a choice, that left once course of action. He couldn’t disobey.
He couldn’t challenge openly. He couldn’t object in any overt way.
So he did the
next best thing. He threw his father a hateful look, turned and left. Four
young shifter males filed out behind him, partly because they were compelled on
a subliminal level. Fleet was oozing alpha traits and the next generation were
already paying homage to that.


About the Authors:

Victoria Danann and Teresa Gabelman are both award winning New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon #1 bestselling authors.


Twisted Love by R. Linda

Title: Twisted Love
Series: Stockholm Syndrome Series Book 1
Author: R. Linda
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: November 7, 2018







Running.
It's what I do. What I've always done. 
For fitness. For fun. 

And now for fear.

He took me. Trapped me. Destroyed me. 
Broke me down, little by little. 

His captive.
His slave.
His pet.

But...something unleashes.

Something forbidden. The passion. The pleasure.
It's wrong. Unforgiving, and I should do what I do.

Run like Hell.
From this Twisted Love.




I didn’t even realise that I had reached for him, until Hendrix flinched at my touch. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He shook his head.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked as I touched the small round cigarette burns.
“No.”
There were hundreds of them, dotting his. I traced my fingers over each one, feeling his pain. My heart clenched.
Hendrix’s breathing increased and I wondered if I was pushing him too far, but he still didn’t stop me.
My hand drifted down to a large triangular scar on his lower back. I traced the slightly curved edges and winced in pain as I thought about what could have caused such a bad scar.
“What did he do to you?” I whispered so soft I wasn’t sure Hendrix heard.
“Hot iron. My shirt was wrinkled and I looked like a slob.”
“Oh, Hendrix.”
“I was eleven.”
If it were possible for my heart to break any more, it did, right then.
Shattered.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as images of an eleven-year-old Hendrix being held down by Ray flashed through my mind.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered into his back, wrapping my arms around his waist until they came to rest on his stomach. His hands found mine, covering them completely. His body trembled, and I had no idea how to comfort him. How to take away the pain, torment, torture.
I pressed my lips to a scar on his shoulder and he tensed, tightened his fingers around mine. I wanted to make him feel better, make him forget the pain of his past for just a little while.
Throwing caution to the wind, I turned him to face me.
“Lucy.” His voice was low, gravelly. “Stop.”
“No.” I cupped his cheek with my hand and pressed my lips together in a small smile. “Kiss me.”
He froze. Conflict warred in his eyes as he lowered his gaze and dragged it leisurely over my body.
I just wanted a moment for us to both forget. For Hendrix to lose himself in me and forget his past. I wanted to forget where I was, forget that my life was hell. I wanted to feel something other than hatred, and Hendrix’s kisses and fingers on my skin always sparked something in me; a fire, a desire that I constantly had to extinguish. But right then, maybe it was the fact he was trying so hard to be noble and do the right thing, I just wanted to give into the flames and burn with him.
As if following my train of thought, Hendrix’s eyes flashed to life, a low growl erupted from his throat and he slammed his mouth down on mine. My hands were in his hair, my lips moulded to his, a small whimper escaped. And I really didn’t know if it was me or him. Or if it was out of pleasure, comfort, or fear. It didn’t matter. It just was.
His hands cupped my face as he stepped back. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine. “Can I tell you something?” he whispered against my lips.
“Yes.”
“I’m scared, Lucy. I’m scared I can’t fix this.” His voice was full of pain, anguish.
“Me too.” I pressed myself closer to him, needing the comfort and needing to comfort him.
“I won’t let him touch you, Lucy. At all. He’ll have to kill me first, okay? I promise you, you will be safe.”
I kissed him again.

Gave in to the flames






R. Linda drinks wine and writes books.

A coffee addicted, tattoo enthusiastic fangirl with a slight obsession for a particular British boy band and solo artist, she is a writer of Contemporary YA/NA Romance and Suspense, sometimes dabbling in Paranormal as well. 

Renee lives in Melbourne, Australia with her husband and two sons. When not writing she can often be found reading books to her children and cuddling up with them on the couch to watch their favourite movies.



HOSTED BY:


Plain Roots by Becki Willis


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Women's Fiction
Date Published: November 1, 2018
Publisher: Clear Creek Publishers

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A heartwarming story of family, forgiveness, and finding a place to belong.

Taryn Clark thought she’d outgrown the need to find her birth mother. She thought that a successful career and a comfortable life in the city were enough to be happy. Did she really need to know about the woman who had given her away?

Adopted at birth, her first few years were happy. It hadn’t mattered that she didn’t know her heritage; she had parents who loved her and wanted her. But divorce, and then death, ripped their tiny family apart, and at the tender age of six, she entered the foster care system. Over the next dozen years, she shuffled from home to home. Finding her roots seemed an impossible dream.

But dreams are resilient. An unexpected discovery awakens old yearnings of belonging to a family, of being part of something bigger than herself. Finding the brief, ambiguous note from her birth mother is enough to unfurl the ribbons of hope still binding her heart.

Her quest takes her to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania and the heart of the Plain community. Aided by her unique eye color, a healthy dose of luck, and the private investigator she hires, Taryn finds her birth family easily enough, but finding the truth is another matter. In all her musings, she never imagined a scenario where her mother might be Amish. She never imagined that the fabric of her life might be a patchwork of faith and fear, stitched together with a dark family secret.

Taryn is determined to trace her roots, even if it means digging in the mud to do so. Now she’s caught in the quicksand of a shocking discovery and the consequences of choices made, almost forty years ago. She’ll risk everything to uncover the truth and to claim the family—and the roots—she so desperately craves.



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About the Author

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Becki Willis, best known for her popular The Sisters, Texas Mystery Series, and Forgotten Boxes, always dreamed of being an author. In November of '13, that dream became a reality. Since that time, she has published numerous books, won first place honors for Best Mystery Series, Best Suspense Fiction, Best Paranormal Fiction, and Best Audio Book, and has introduced her imaginary friends to readers around the world.

An avid history buff, Becki likes to poke around in old places and learn about the past. Other addictions include reading, writing, junking, unraveling a good mystery, and coffee. She loves to travel but believes coming home to her family and her Texas ranch is the best part of any trip. Becki is a member of the Association of Texas Authors, Writer’s League of Texas, Sisters in Crime, the National Association of Professional Women, and the Brazos Writers organization. She attended Texas A&M University and majored in Journalism.


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Thursday, November 8, 2018

Heartbreak Warfare by Heather M. Orgeron & Kate Stewart




Title: Heartbreak Warfare
Authors: Heather M. Orgeron & Kate Stewart
Genre: Contemporary Military Romance
Release Date: November 2, 2018



Blurb


Briggs,



Remember when I said we couldn’t speak after parting ways in Germany? It was
the day I broke your heart. What you didn't know was that I was breaking mine
too.



I thought they’d be enough–my husband and my son. That I’d get home and
everything would go back to the way it was . . .



Before the war.

Before the ambush.

Before you.



But, no matter how hard I try, I can’t erase the trauma we shared. I can’t seem
to forget the way my heart beat in time with yours.



The truth is I’m lost without you.



I thought the nightmare was over when they pulled us from that hole in the
ground, but nothing could have prepared me for the war I’d face at home.

I know it’s selfish of me to ask, but, please, I have to see you one last time.
. .



All my love,

Scottie 










Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited





Excerpt

“I need you
to break my heart,” she declares, wringing her hands nervously. “Give me a
reason to hate you, because wanting you this way is…it’s ruining me. It’s
ruining my life.”

She is dead
serious.

Lifting her
chin, as if ready to take a blow, her turbulent eyes implore mine. “Tell me
about them. Tell me about all of the women you’ve been with since Germany.”

“No.” I
shake my head. “Hell no.”

“Oh, please,
Briggs. How long did you wait? A few days?” She laughs sarcastically. “I bet
you didn’t even make it a day.”

She’s
coming out guns blazing, and I can see it’s physically killing her to do it.

“Are we
playing the guessing game? Do I get to ask how many times you’ve fucked your
husband?”

“Sure,” she
says with a shrug. “We’ll trade. You go first.”

She’s
bluffing, and I’m calling her on it.

“Don’t do
this, Scottie. You don’t really want to hear about that.”

“Humor me,
Briggs.” Her eyes plead with mine. “I need to hear this.”

“Fine. You
want the truth?”

She nods.

“Complete
honesty?”

Again, she
bobs her head.

She stands
stock-still as I pace the small room, feeling the blood begin to boil beneath
my overheated skin.

Fuck it.

I stalk
back toward her, stopping inches away. “You really want to know that there have
been so many that I’ve lost count? How they’re all blondes with blue eyes? But
the blue, it’s never right, and their smiles—all wrong.”

She swats
at the fresh tears that trail down her cheeks as her lips begin to tremble.
Reaching out, she places a hand on my chest, and I know that she must feel the
way my heart is pounding against my rib cage, reaching for her. Always reaching
for her.

I jerk
myself away and brand that touch to memory.

In about
forty-five seconds, my heart is going to implode. I start ticking them down.

“You want
me to tell you all about how I have to drink myself stupid, till their faces
blur enough that I can pretend…” I pause running a hand down my face. “So that
I can pretend they’re you? You want to know how fucking miserable I am? How
when I slide between their legs, I close my eyes, and it’s your face I see? How
I’m always careful not to kiss them because their lips are all wrong. How every
time I finish I want to fucking kill myself, because I can’t stand the pain of
wanting the one woman I can never have.”

Thirty
seconds.

 “Is that enough?” Her eyes snap to mine. “Hate
me yet?”

Face
crumbling, she gasps out a sob, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

“Come on,
Scottie. Let’s not kid ourselves. I’m still the same prick you hated when we
met. Nothing’s changed. I think we’ve romanticized this situation long enough,
don’t you?”

Taking
another step away from her, I tilt my head. “You’re a housewife,” I say
snidely. “Someone else’s wife and I’m a career soldier. This isn’t exactly
ideal.”

She
flinches visibly, and my heart bottoms out.

Fifteen.

I cut my
hand through the air. “At the end of the day, this was nothing but a big
mistake. And we never would have happened if—”

“Stop,” she
cries out painfully, “stop, I’m good,” she whispers before rocketing toward the
door just as I reach for her, my fingers curling in the space she just left.
Handle in hand, she looks back at me with the sweep of her eyes until they meet
mine. That’s how we started, and it’s only fitting it’s how we should end. For
the moment, we’re right back there in the place we created, where we are
perfect. Where our souls line up without any visible smudge on the seams. In a
place where there is still so much love, so much that I can’t stop the tear
that slides out before batting it away with the back of my hand.

An
identical tear runs down her cheek. “Thank you.”

Three. Two.
One.





Heather M. Orgeron


Heather M. Orgeron is a Cajun girl with a big heart and a passion for romance. She married her high school sweetheart two months after graduation and her life has been a fairytale ever since. She’s the queen of her castle, reigning over five sons and one bossy little princess who has made it her mission in life to steal her Momma’s throne. When she’s not writing, you will find her hidden beneath mounds of laundry and piles of dirty dishes or locked in her tower(aka the bathroom) soaking in the tub with a good book. She’s always been an avid reader and has recently discovered a love for cultivating romantic stories of her own.






Kate Stewart

A Texas native, Kate Stewart lives in North Carolina with
her husband, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. She pens messy, sexy,
angst-filled contemporary romance, as well as romantic comedy and erotic
suspense because it's what she loves as a reader.

Kate is a lover of all things '80s and '90s, especially John Hughes films and
rap. She dabbles a little in photography, can knit a simple stitch scarf for
necessity, and on occasion, does very well at whiskey.