Monday, January 21, 2019

We Shouldn't by Vi Keeland

WeShouldnt_Title
A Standalone Contemporary Romance
#1 New York Times Bestselling Author Vi Keeland
we shouldn't live now square  



Bennett Fox walked into my life on one hell of a crappy Monday morning.

 I was late for the first day at my new job—a job I’d now have to compete for even though I’d already worked eight years to earn it, because of an unexpected merger. 

 While I lugged my belongings up to my new office, a meter maid wrote me a parking summons.

 She’d ticketed a long line of cars—except for the Audi parked in front of me, which happened to be the same make and model as mine.

 Annoyed, I decided to regift my ticket to the car that had evaded a fine.  Chances were, the owner would pay it and be none the wiser.

Except, I accidentally broke the windshield wiper while slipping the ticket onto the car’s window. 

Seriously, my day couldn’t get any worse.  

Things started to perk up when I ran into a gorgeous man in the elevator.  We had one of those brief moments that only happened in movies.

You know the deal…your body lights up, fireworks go off, and the air around you crackles with electricity.  

His heated stare left me flushed when I stepped off the elevator.   Maybe things here wouldn’t be so bad after all.  

Or so I thought.

Until I walked into my new boss’s office and met my competition.

The gorgeous man from the elevator was now my nemesis. His heated stare wasn’t because of any mutual attraction.  

It was because he’d seen me vandalize his car.

And now he couldn’t wait to annihilate his rival. 

There’s a fine line between love and hate—and we shouldn’t cross it.  

We shouldn’t—but straddling that line could be so much fun.


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Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in two dozen languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.       Sign up for Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when books go live! https://www.subscribepage.com/i6h3o5 Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of Vi’s new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948 You will ONLY receive a text when a new book goes live - no other messages at all!

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The Naked Truth

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Sex not Love

Sex, Not Love

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Beautiful Mistake

Beautiful Mistake

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Egomaniac

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Bossman

Bossman

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The Baller

The Baller

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Life on Stage series (2 Standalone Books)
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Throb

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Beat

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MMA Fighter series (3 Standalone Books)

Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter #1)

Worth the Fight

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Worth The Chance (MMA figher #2)

Worth the Chance

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18742801

Worth Forgiving

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Worth it All (MMA Complete Series)

Worth It All (Complete Fighter Series)

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Serials

The Cole Series (2 Book Serial)
Belong to You (Cole #1)

Belong to You

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Made for You (Cole #2)

Made for You

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Saturday, January 19, 2019

Deal with the Devil by Meghan March




From New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller
Meghan March comes the first book in a new riveting romance trilogy
filled with international high-stakes, dangerous hidden agendas,
and—in true March fashion—plenty of twists and turns.

ABOUT THE BOOK
DEAL WITH THE DEVIL
Forge Trilogy, Book #1
Red Dress Press | On Sale: January 15, 2019


From New York Times bestselling author Meghan March comes the story of the ruthless, calculating billionaire Jericho Forge. India Baptiste, his latest prey, is now caught in the high stakes game that has become her life since colliding with Forge, and she’ll need the luck of the devil to survive. India Forge’s life is now part of Jericho Forge’s calculated game.

"You can put that man in a suit, but he'll never be tame."

One look at Jericho Forge and I knew the rumors were true. He was a predator, and he had set his sights on me.

I knew better than to bet more than I could afford to lose that night. I knew better than to bet myself.

But desperation leads to bad decisions, and I thought there was no way I could lose.

I was wrong.

Now I have no choice but to make a deal with the devil.




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 Book 2 - Luck of the Devil (*PREORDER): http://www.meghanmarch.com/luck-of-the-devil/
 Book 3 - Heart of the Devil (*PREORDER): http://www.meghanmarch.com/heart-of-the-devil/





Wow. I'm almost at a loss for words. I have so many questions that I need answers to! In true Meghan March fashion she has captivated me with her words and left me begging for more. With every series she releases, her books just get better and better. 

If you loved Lachlan Mount then you'll obsess over Jericho Forge. That man is Alpha that oozes pure sexiness. Forge is a shipping tycoon that always gets what he wants. Always. He doesn't care what he has to do to get it, but he will. Enter India Baptiste. One look at her and he knows he has to have her. 

There are a lot of things that I love about the characters that Meghan writes but what I adore the most is how strong her female leads are. India exudes strength and a take no crap attitude. She's one helluva a feisty chick. Mix that with Alpha Jericho Forge and you've got yourself two fantastic characters. 

Deal with the Devil is full of twists, turns, and enough heat to make you fan yourself. It's a fresh new story with new settings that I loved. Meghan brought it once again and I can't wait for the next book in the series.  





Meghan March brought her A game, again. It seems that with every series I fall in love with Meghan's writing even more. Deal with the Devil is a fast paced story that will suck you in and hold on tight from the very first page. I am a huge fan of the Mount Trilogy. Lachlan Mount is my main man and I swore there was no way Meghan could top him. I. Was. Wrong.

Jericho Forge is a shipping tycoon with the largest fleet of ships in the world. He wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth and has worked for everything he has. He's confident and sexy and will make you swoon. I can't wait to find out more about this man. I'm obsessed.

India Baptiste also comes from a rough background. She has clawed and fought to survive. Especially now because she's in a situation where she's about to lose the one thing she loves most in this world. I really enjoyed her character. She's strong and witty and has a take no crap attitude. I love that Meghan writes equally strong female leads.

Deal with the Devil is the first book in the Forge Trilogy and it will leave you begging for more even after giving you whiplash from the twists and turns. I loved every minute of it and can't wait to dive into the next book. 






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Making the jump from corporate lawyer to romance author was a leap of faith that New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Meghan March will never regret. With over thirty titles published, she has sold millions of books in nearly a dozen languages to fellow romance-lovers around the world. A nomad at heart, she can currently be found in the woods of the Pacific Northwest, living her happily ever after with her real-life alpha hero.
You can find her online at: MeghanMarch.com, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

Wednesday, January 16, 2019

We Shouldn't by Vi Keeland

WeShouldnt_Title we shouldn't sneak peek banner



Read a short sneak peek from chapter two below or grab the full, first two chapters here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/qi0wfckd79

Figures. It was the gorgeous guy I’d seen in the elevator. And here I thought we’d had a little spark. Bennett Fox grinned like he’d already been named my boss and extended his hand. “Welcome to Foster Burnett.” Ugh. He wasn’t just good looking; he knew it, too. “That would be Foster, Burnett and Wren, as of a few weeks ago, right?” I iced my subtle reminder that this was now our place of employment with a smile, suddenly thankful my parents had made me wear braces until I was nearly sixteen. “Of course.” My new nemesis smiled just as brightly. Apparently his parents had sprung for orthodontic care, too. Bennett Fox was also tall. I once read an article that said the average height of a man in the US was five-foot-nine-and-a-half inches; less than fifteen percent of men stood taller than six feet. Yet the average height of more than sixty-eight percent of Fortune 500 CEOs was over six feet. Subconsciously, we related size to power in more ways than just brawn. Andrew was six foot two. I’d guess this guy was about the same. Bennett pulled out the guest chair next to him. “Please, have a seat.” Tall and with gentlemanly manners. I disliked him already. During the ensuing twenty-minute pep talk given by Jonas Stern—in which he attempted to convince us we weren’t vying for the same position, but instead forging the way as leaders of the now-largest ad agency in the United States—I stole glances at Bennett Fox. Shoes: definitely expensive. Conservative, oxford in style, but with a modern edge of topstitching. Ferragamo would be my guess. Big feet, too. Suit: dark navy, tailored to fit his tall, broad frame. The kind of understated luxury that said he had money, but didn’t need to flaunt it to impress you. He had one long leg casually crossed over the other knee, as if we were discussing the weather rather than being told everything we’d worked twelve hours a day, six days a week for was suddenly at risk of being in vain. At one point, Jonas had said something we both agreed with, and we looked at each other, nodding. Given the opportunity for a closer inspection, my eyes roamed his handsome face. Strong jaw, daringly straight, perfect nose—the type of bone structure passed down from generation to generation that was better and more useful than any monetary inheritance. But his eyes were the showstopper: a deep, penetrating green that popped from his smooth, tanned skin. Those were currently staring right at me. I looked away, returning my attention to Jonas. “So what happens at the end of the ninety-day integration period? Will there be two Creative Directors of West Coast Marketing?” Jonas looked back and forth between us and sighed. “No. But no one is going to lose his or her job. I was just about to tell Bennett the news. Rob Gatts announced he’ll be retiring in a few months. So there will be a position opening up for a creative director to replace him.” I had no idea what that meant. But apparently Bennett did. “So one of us gets shipped off to Dallas to replace Rob in the southwest region?” he asked. Jonas’s face told me Bennett wouldn’t be happy about the prospect of heading to Texas. “Yes.” All three of us let that sink in for a moment. The possibility of having to relocate to Texas shifted my mind back into gear, though. “Who will make the decision?” I asked. “Because obviously you’ve been working with Bennett…” Jonas shook his head and waved off what I was beginning to question. “Decisions like this—where two senior management positions are being merged into one office—the board will oversee and make the final determination of who gets first pick.” Bennett was just as confused as me. “The board members don’t work with us on a daily basis.” “No, they don’t. So they’ve come up with a method of making their decision.” “Which is?” “It’ll be based on three major client pitches. You’ll both come up with campaigns on your own and present them. The clients will pick which they like best.” Bennett looked rattled for the first time. His perfect composure and self-assuredness took a hit as he leaned forward and raked long fingers through his hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me. More than ten years, and my job here comes down to a few pitches? I’ve landed half-a-billion dollars of ad accounts for this company.” “I’m sorry, Bennett. I really am. But one of the conditions of the Wren merger was that due consideration be given to the Wren employees in positions that might be eliminated because of duplicity. The deal almost didn’t go through because Mrs. Wren was so insistent that she not sell her husband’s company, only to have the new organization strip away all of Wren’s hard-working employees.” That made me smile. Mr. Wren was taking care of his employees even after he was gone. “I’m up for the challenge.” I looked at Bennett, who was clearly pissed off. “May the best woman win.” He scowled. “You mean man.”



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Bennett Fox walked into my life on one hell of a crappy Monday morning. I was late for the first day at my new job—a job I’d now have to compete for even though I’d already worked eight years to earn it, because of an unexpected merger.  While I lugged my belongings up to my new office, a meter maid wrote me a parking summons. She’d ticketed a long line of cars—except for the Audi parked in front of me, which happened to be the same make and model as mine. Annoyed, I decided to regift my ticket to the car that had evaded a fine.  Chances were, the owner would pay it and be none the wiser. Except, I accidentally broke the windshield wiper while slipping the ticket onto the car’s window. Seriously, my day couldn’t get any worse. Things started to perk up when I ran into a gorgeous man in the elevator.  We had one of those brief moments that only happened in movies. You know the deal…your body lights up, fireworks go off, and the air around you crackles with electricity.   His heated stare left me flush when I stepped off the elevator.   Maybe things here wouldn’t be so bad after all.   Or so I thought. Until I walked into my new boss’s office and met my competition. The gorgeous man from the elevator was now my nemesis. His heated stare wasn’t because of any mutual attraction.  It was because he’d saw me vandalize his car. And now he couldn’t wait to annihilate his rival.  There’s a fine line between love and hate—and we shouldn’t cross it.   We shouldn’t—but straddling that line could be so much fun.

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Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in two dozen languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six. Sign up for Penelope & Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when it goes live!  https://www.subscribepage.com/Vi&Penelope Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of Vi’s new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948. You will ONLY receive a text when a new book goes live - no other messages at all!  

Find Vi here:

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Wednesday, January 9, 2019

Excerpt Reveal : Only a Breath Apart by Katie McGary

   

Would you dare to defy destiny? Are our destinies written in stone? Do we become nothing more than the self-fulfilling prophesies of other people's opinions? Or can we dare to become who we believe we were born to be?

 

ONLY A BREATH APART is a young adult contemporary novel from critically acclaimed Katie McGarry. Available on all retailers on January 22, 2019!

   

Jesse dreams of working the land that’s been in his family forever. But he’s cursed to lose everything he loves most.

Scarlett is desperate to escape her “charmed” life. But leaving a small town is easier said than done.

Despite their history of heartbreak, when Jesse sees a way they can work together to each get what they want, Scarlett can’t say no.Each midnight meeting between Jesse and Scarlett will push them to confront their secrets and their feelings for each other.

 

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Add it to your Goodreads today!

      

SCARLETT I’m defying my parents by attending a funeral. Reckless and adventurous teenage behavior, I know. Most seventeen-year-olds lie to their parents so they can go on a date with a forbidden boy or attend a party where there will be questionable behavior. Me? I’m outright lying to my dad, and it’s because Jesse Lachlin’s grandmother died. The entire way here I’ve questioned my sanity, but I don’t know how I’d live with myself if I stayed home. Jesse Lachlin used to be my childhood best friend. We were inseparable. We had the type of friendship people strive to have, and then, a few years ago, he cut me so deeply that I still bleed. But ten-year-old me would have never abandoned a hurting Jesse. So today I’m not only honoring the memory of Jesse’s grandmother, but also the memory of our dead friendship. On my way to the funeral, the high grass of the field swats at my legs, but I don’t mind the sting. I love walking barefoot in grass, I love the smell of the earth and I love that brief feeling of freedom open spaces can provide. It’s the dog days of August. The type of hot that starts when the sun rises and makes you sweat through your clothes within minutes. While my skin and palms are on fire, the pads of my feet are cool against the dirt. The heat is unwelcome, but the sky is deep blue and the sun is bright, and for that, I can be grateful. Walking out of the field, I stop short of crossing the one-lane road to slip on the flats that dangle from my fingertips. My mother would be mortified if she knew I was entering a church in a cotton daisy-print sundress. It’s not one of the dresses with stiff fabric and impossible back zippers she would have picked for me at an overpriced department store. It’s the type that’s machine-washable and breathable. The type of dress Jesse’s grandmother would have given her stamp of approval. I can practically hear my mother heavily sigh and mumble my name, Scarlett, as if it were her personal, private curse word. Mom believes there’s a certain way to dress and behave, and I’m breaking all sorts of her rules today. Watch out, world. I’m officially rebellious. I smile to myself because I’m the opposite of rebellious. For the last few years, I’ve followed every rule. I’m the teacher’s pet and the girl with straight A’s. I’m the poster child of perfection, and have earned every snarky ice princess comment Jesse’s friends whisper about me in the school hallways because he and I no longer speak. There are only six cars in the parking lot of the white church, and that makes me frown. I thought more people would have wanted to attend. Jesse’s mud-covered pickup is there, and so is an unnaturally clean black Mercedes that belongs to his uncle. This ought to be interesting. Jesse and his uncle have a mutual hate for each other that runs deeper than any root of any tree. Movement to my right and I slowly turn my head. Shivers run down my spine at the sight of Glory Gardner. Even though I’m seventeen and too old for ghost stories, I still can’t shake the ones regarding this woman. Girls would whisper over lunch boxes that Glory was a witch. As I grew older, I understood that witch meant con artist. She claims she can read palms, tarot cards and “sees” spirits from beyond the dead. All for a glorious fee. She’s a beautiful woman—long dirty blond hair that’s untamed, even in a bun, and she has an eclectic taste in clothing. Today she wears a white peasant shirt and a flowing skirt made of material that shimmers in the sun. Glory watches me like I watch her, with morbid curiosity. I knew her as a child, back when Jesse and I ran wild in the fields near her home, but we haven’t talked in years. She stands under the shade of a towering weeping willow. There are lots of those trees around here. Mom says it’s because there is too much water in the ground. I say it’s because the people in this town have cried too many tears. Mom doesn’t like my answer. I tilt my head toward the church, an unspoken question if Glory will be joining me. She shakes her head no. I’m not shocked. According to rumors, Glory will go up in flames if she enters the house of God. But who knows? Maybe I will, too. The church is one of those picturesque, historical, one-room school buildings squeezed between a cornfield on one side and a hay field on the other. A huge steeple with a bell attempts to reach the heavens, but like anything created by a human, it falls tragically short. The foreboding wooden door makes no noise as I open it, and I’m able to slip in without a huge, squeaking announcement. Orange light filters in through the dark stained glass windows, and its struggling beams reveal millions of dancing particles of dust. On the altar, there’s no casket, but there is an urn. My heart dips—Suzanne is dead. I used to wish she were my grandmother, and many times, she treated me as if I belonged to her. Suzanne was the epitome of love, and the world feels colder now that she’s gone. Choosing a spot in the back, I drop into a pew, and as I scan the church my stomach churns. How is it possible that this place is so barren? Besides the Funeral Brigade, or the FB, as I like to refer to them, there aren’t many people here. The FB are the older group of woman who attend every funeral in our small town even if they didn’t know the person. Attending funerals isn’t my idea of fun, but who am I to judge? The FB sit directly behind the one person the town believes to be the lone sane member of the Lachlin family, probably because he isn’t blood related—Jesse’s uncle. On the left side of the church is Jesse. Only Jesse. And that causes a painful pang in my chest. Where are his stinking friends? The anarchists in training who follow Jesse wherever he goes? Where is the rest of the town? Yes, Suzanne was polarizing, but still, where is any respect? Quietly, so I don’t draw attention to myself, I slip from the right set of pews to the left. Someone should be on Jesse’s side, and it’s sad it has to be me. A door at the front of the church opens, and the pastor walks out from the addition the church build on as a small office ten years ago. I would have thought any pastor assigned to this place would be as ancient as this church. Sort of like an Indiana Jones Knights Templar scenario where he lives forever as long as he stays inside. But no, he’s the youngest pastor from the main, newer church in town. His name is Pastor Hughes, and he’s a thirty-something black man with a fit build who is just cute enough that he should be starring in a movie. The pastor looks up, and he flinches as if startled. I peek over my shoulder then sigh. Clearly, he’s surprised to see me. Flipping fantastic. His reaction, and the fact he won’t stop staring, causes every person to turn their heads. Lovely. I’ve had dreams like this where I enter a room and become the center of attention. Only in my dreams it’s at school, it’s my classmates and I’m naked, but still, this is disconcerting. Eventually, the FB and Jesse’s uncle return their attention to the front, but Jesse doesn’t. He rests his arm on the back of the pew, and it’s hard to ignore that he’s made me his sole focus, but I do my best to act as if I don’t notice. To help, I concentrate on what my mom taught me as a child—to make sure the skirt of my dress is tucked appropriately so that my thighs don’t show. I then fold my hands in my lap and straighten to a book-on-head posture. I can be the ice princess people claim me to be. Five pews separate me and Jesse, and it’s not nearly enough. My cheeks burn under his continued inspection. Jesse has done this a handful of times since our freshman year. Glance at me as if I’m someone worth looking at, someone worth laughing with a little too loud and smiling with a little too much. Then he remembers who I am and snaps his gaze to someone else. But he’s not looking away now.



Katie McGarry was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan. Katie is the author of full length YA novels, PUSHING THE LIMITS, DARE YOU TO, CRASH INTO YOU, TAKE ME ON, BREAKING THE RULES, and NOWHERE BUT HERE and the e-novellas, CROSSING THE LINE and RED AT NIGHT. Her debut YA novel, PUSHING THE LIMITS was a 2012 Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction, a RT Magazine's 2012 Reviewer's Choice Awards Nominee for Young Adult Contemporary Novel, a double Rita Finalist, and a 2013 YALSA Top Ten Teen Pick. DARE YOU TO was also a Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction and won RT Magazine’s Reviewer’s Choice Best Book Award for Young Adult Contemporary fiction in 2013.

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