Showing posts with label Cover Reveal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cover Reveal. Show all posts

Friday, November 15, 2013

Cover Reveal: Beautiful Failure by Mariah Cole



Title: Beautiful Failure
Author: Mariah Cole
Genre: New Adult Romance
Expected Release Date: December 12, 2013


If you're looking for a heartwarming story about a girl who falls deeply in love with a troubled boy who changes her life— a sob story with pretty metaphors and a million ways that'll tell you how "broken" she is, STOP. Don't read another word of this.

I'm not that type of girl. 

My name is Emerald Anderson and I'm not going to bullshit you: I flunked out of college after my sophomore year, I've been fired from every job I've ever taken, and I've never had a fully functioning relationship in my life.

I wish I could say that I had a cheerleader in my corner, someone who says, "No, Emerald—You're great and you are good at something!" but I don't. My grandparents are completely oblivious to my life, and my mother's dying words to me were "You're going to end up just like me one day. A beautiful nothing."

She was right.

As I decide to start my life over and take two jobs that will forever change me--one from the inside, and one from the outside, I keep my mother's words close to my heart so I can keep the sexy and mysterious Carter Black away.

He's the first man who's ever pursued me, the first man who seems bent on finding out why I am the way I am, but he's wasting his time.

I'm not broken. I don't need to be fixed. I'm perfectly fine being a beautiful failure..






*subject to change before publication*
My mother was a whore.

Her name was Leah Isabelle Anderson—“Leah Belle” for short, and she was one of New Jersey’s most sought after escorts.

With deep green eyes that could take any man’s breath away, and skin so porcelain and smooth that it looked too perfect to touch, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Often compared to a supermodel, her raven black hair fell past her shoulders, and her naturally long eyelashes were always coifed to perfection.

Growing up, I had no idea what she did with the men who picked her up in their shiny and expensive cars—the men who wore thousand dollar suits and patted me on the head while saying, “Your mom is really something special.”

In a way, these strangers became the closest thing I had to a family since I never knew my father: Her regulars, Christian and William, sent me gifts every Christmas. Arnie bought me my first bike, Steve taught me how to change a tire, and her most ruthless suitor—Vincent, took me shopping for designer clothes once a month.

Leah Belle—she never ever let me call her “mom,” wasn’t exactly a mother to me; she was more like an older friend. An older ‘I’ll-be-there-when-it’s-convenient’ friend.

She missed every elementary school play, every middle school writing competition, and never gave a damn about my grades. At first, the involuntary loneliness bothered me, but after I created an army of invisible friends and easily accessible fantasies, I came to terms with her neglect and happily accepted any attention she was willing to give me.

When I became a teenager, she started to hang around me more often—promising that she would do better, promising that she would make sure that “from here on out, [we’d] be best friends.” Since she’d run away from her parents after having me at sixteen, she made a point to never lecture or discipline me. But, she did teach me three very important lessons:

1.) “Always put tons of effort into the way you look. You need to be beautiful on the outside, no matter how fucked up you are on the inside. If you ever feel sad or depressed, suck that shit up and add more mascara.”</ span>

2.) “Don’t make friends. Make sponsors. If you can’t get anything out of someone or use them for a specific purpose, kick that person out of your life ASAP.”

3.) “Beauty wins over brains every time. Your body will always be your most important asset. Remember that.” 

For my fourteenth birthday, she poured me my first shot and offered me a short line of coke, saying, “Welcome to life, Em!”

I shook my head at the coke—I’d read about the effects, but I happily took the red shot glass from her hand. 

“To the best fuckin’ daughter in the world!” She lifted her glass in the air, waiting for me to do the same, and then she ordered me to toss it back.

The initial burning sensation was painful— disgusting, but in the years to come, that bitterness tasted better and better, and I looked forward to the two of us drinking together. It was the only time that she gave me her undivided attention.

In those moments, I would tell her about another writing competition I’d won or how I’d received more early college scholarships.

When it was her turn, she would tell me about “turning tricks” like other parents told their kids about a day at the office.

“I can’t tell you how weak Ben’s dick was today,” she’d say. “I mean, I feel like I should be charging him double for the weak ass fucks he puts me through.”

“You don’t enjoy it with him? Ever?” I’d ask.

“No. Never with him. But he’s a sponsor, I’m getting his money, and that’s all that matters. I just lie there, scratch his back, and say ‘Harder… Harder’ to make him think I’m into it until—”

“Until he cums?”

“Yep.” She’d pass me a cigarette before sighing.

“With him and a few others, I usually have to take a few shots beforehand to numb my mind. With the really good ones, all I have to do is relax. Sex can be fucking incredible when it’s done right…”

One particular Friday, after she let one of her regulars take me shopping for a Chanel bag, I unlocked the door to our home and saw droplets of blood all over the floor.

“Leah?” I set my shopping bag down. “Did you get another nose bleed?”

No answer.

I headed into the kitchen, looking for her usual remedies—hot tea and Q tips, but she wasn’t there.

“You here?” I walked around our living room and checked all the rooms upstairs. Confused, I pulled out my cell phone and called her.

No answer again.

I shrugged and opened a bottle of vodka, tossing back a few shots. I figured she’d left with one of her sponsors for a quickie and would be back by the time our favorite show started.

I decided to take a shower before it came on and headed into the downstairs bathroom.

The second I hit the lights, my heart fell out of my chest.

I wanted to believe that what I was seeing was simply a sick joke by my imagination—a twisted fantasy I’d snap out of in seconds.

Pale and blue, Leah’s body lay lifeless in our tub. Her left arm was dangling over the edge, and the small velvet bag where she kept her cocaine was dangling from her fingertips.

Scattered across the floor were hundreds of prescription pills and empty orange bottles that bore the names of strangers. On the vanity, there was an empty syringe and a folded note that read “For my Em…”

Trembling, I rushed to her side and pressed my finger against her neck, hoping for a pulse.

Nothing.

I tilted her head back and tried to breathe life into her—pressing her chest with my hands every few seconds, but it was no use.

She was gone.

I sank down to the floor in tears—cursing her, hating her, for doing this to me. To us.

I had no friends to call, no family either, so in my numb and dazed state I somehow managed to call 9-1-1. While the operator attempted to calm me down by asking me to take deep breaths, I walked over to the vanity and unfolded Leah’s last note:

Em,

I know you’re confused right now, but I want you to know that I love you. I love you so fucking much… You were the only thing that made my life worth living, and I wish I was strong enough to keep that in mind…

I’m not.

I’m tired of living a lie and

I haven’t been happy in a very long time… I just can’t take it anymore…

I’ve fucked up a lot of things in my life, but the biggest regret I have is the way I raised you…I’m so sorry… This is going to be hard for you to believe—especially since I’m gone, but I need you to forget all that shit I taught you. Right now.

Fuck using your looks to get what you want. Go to college and do some good shit with your life, like write or something. You’re a good writer, you’re very smart, and you need to use your brain to get ahead. Can you promise to do that for me, Em?

Then again…It’s probably too late and I’m willing to bet that you’ll end up just like me: A beautiful nothing…

It won’t be your fault though.

It’ll be—


I stopped reading and flushed that note down the toilet. Her last words were clearly written out of sadness and they were only compounding my pain.

As far as I was concerned, Leah had raised me the best she could and she was far from a “beautiful nothing” in my eyes. In fact, I cherished every single thing she’d taught me.

Even though I was beyond hurt that she’d selfishly left me all alone, I was determined to remember her at her best and for everything she was to me:

My mother.

My best friend.

My role model.





Mariah Cole is a Starbucks addict (hazelnut shots please!), New Adult author, and an incessant daydreamer. Known for pushing the envelope, she’s an avid reader of indie books and is always looking to chat with readers and authors alike.

Author Goodreads | Author Facebook | Beautiful Failure Goodreads




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Thursday, November 14, 2013

Cover Reveal: Until Trevor by Aurora Rose Reynolds


Until_Trevor_front
Title: Until Trevor (Until #2)
Author: Aurora Rose Reynolds
Release Date: December 19, 2013
Genre: Contemporary Romance


Trevor Mayson had his life planned out - make the family business successful and play the field for a few more years before eventually settling down. Then he sees her. Liz Hayes was beautiful, shy and everything that he could ever want...but she didn't fit into his plans. After Trevor painfully rejects her, Liz finally starts to move on, but Trevor is finding it difficult to truly let her go. It seems the more he tries to stay away, the more intense his feelings for her become. Like a stretched rubber band, he can only take so much before snapping. 

Liz Hayes is done waiting for Trevor and isn't interested in getting her heart broken by him again, but Trevor is making it difficult for her to forget him when he shoves his way back into her life. Can Trevor prove to her that he is worth falling in love with again, and is he ready to change his life plan to let her into his heart?






Aurora Rose Reynolds
Aurora Rose Reynolds is a navy brat whose husband served in the United States Navy. She has lived all over the country but now resides in New York City with her Husband and pet fish. She's married to an alpha male that loves her as much as the men in her books love their women. He gives her over the top inspiration everyday. In her free time she reads, writes and enjoys going to the movies with her husband and cookie. She also enjoys taking mini weekend vacations to nowhere, or spends time at home with friends and family. Last but not least she appreciates everyday and admires its beauty. 


 
Until_Trevor_Jacket

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Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Cover Reveal: Mended by Kim Karr

Title: Mended (Connections #3)
Release date: June 3, 2014


MUSIC HAS THE POWER TO HEAL ALL…BUT NOT ALL BROKEN HEARTS CAN BE MENDED.

Always in control, Xander Wilde considered life on the road to be a perfect fit for him. But when disaster strikes on the Wilde Ones’ latest tour, fate intervenes…and a newly single Ivy Taylor, the only girl he has ever loved, steps back into his life.

After moving past her painful breakup with Xander years ago, Ivy was poised to become the next big name in pop music…when suddenly she withdrew from the limelight—the same day she announced her engagement to her controlling agent, Damon Wolf.

Xander knows he should keep his distance. But once they’re on the road, he can’t resist pursuing her for a second chance. Yet a jealous Damon can’t let her go—and he’s keeping dangerous secrets that could destroy them all. 

When the three of them come together, everything falls apart. But if Xander and Ivy can hold tight to the bond that connects them, they just might have a chance at reclaiming the powerful love they thought they had lost forever....

Torn (Book 2) - GoodreadsiTunes | Amazon | B&N
Connected (Book 1) - Goodreads | iTunes | Amazon | B&N



Xander Wilde

The magic of rock and roll—it casts a spell on you. I’m no exception. I’m a band
manager and I’m living the dream, touring with The Wilde Ones, helping them secure their well-deserved place in the music industry. I love being a part of it all, especially watching the band perform live—the crowds, the cheers, the music. It’s a high and a low all at once and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Every step of the way with this band has been fun, exciting, stressful—every possible emotion. Obviously we’ve had some breaks but mostly we all put in a lot of hard work—myself, Garrett Flynn, Phoenix Harper, River Wilde, and now Zane Perry. 


“Can you hear me now?” he bellows. 


I nod my head as my heart pounds in my chest. My hands feel cold and clammy and a nervousness that makes me weak and shaky takes over. Doubts race through my head and I’m questioning if he’s going to make it through this. A vague awareness that something bad could happen kicks around in my mind and I can’t shake it. The Wilde Ones are doing a sound check on stage and Zane’s not on his game. It’s July and the weather has been brutally hot. But today it seems cooler. Maybe it’s the California weather maybe it’s the excitement of being home. The Beautiful Lies Tour bus finally rolled back into our home state of California after six months away. When we pulled into the amphitheater, we could see tanned kids in board shorts and bikini tops already lined up at the will call window. Security guards in polo shirts directed us to the
artist parking lot, and we were officially home. Tonight we’ll be headlining our biggest show to date. We’re on tour without my brother, River, and still more than half of the shows are sold out, including tonight’s. River quit the band—touring just wasn’t for him but even so the album is on its way up the charts. Who knows it may even hit gold status. The songs on the album were written and sung by River but are performed in concert by Zane. Having him as my brother’s replacement has been the key to our successful transition in a world where replacing leads is normally unsuccessful—simply put, we’re lucky as hell to have him. River promised to make a surprise appearance at our next stop.
It’s going to be epic. 


But tonight is all about the arena—Mountain View and the Shoreline. “That’s
enough,” I yell to the band and call rehearsal. This place is the biggest outdoor venue we’ve played and I couldn’t be more stoked—or more nervous. A sold out show and a rocking opening band—what a combination. But a lead singer with another cold and a weakened voice that can’t be heard throughout an amphitheater scares the shit out of me. I head straight for the bus and spend the next few hours hashing out a song with Nix that he calls a jumbled mess of muscular sense and big-riff sunshine—whatever the hell that means. All I know is that it needs help and that’s why he’s turning to me. I hadn’t played guitar since I was eighteen but for some reason over the course of this tour I’ve
picked it back up. At first I used whatever was lying around but last month I had my mother mail my old one to me and it feels like home. It’s a light blue and brown Gibson and I had to have it because it was the guitar that Slash played on. Playing again seems to help pass the time and brings a calm over me that I haven’t felt in awhile. 


Hours pass and before I know it, it’s almost show time. We make our way over to the Amphitheater, do the typical festival schmooze fest, and then settle back to wait. Waiting for them to take the stage is always the most nerve-racking time. I’m sitting in the practically vacant makeshift meet and greet area back stage and sipping a beer in a worthless effort to calm my nerves when a voice travels through the sound system. It’s a powerful and emotive mezzo-soprano range that is nothing short of explosive. She sounds unlike any singer I’ve ever heard before—with only one exception, Ivy Taylor. I push back the memory of her name and the emotions it evokes—the memories are just too painful. I can’t see her on stage but I know that the voice belongs to Jane Mommsen.
Her band Breathless is playing right before The Wilde Ones. A hand on my shoulder startles me. I twist and glance up as Amy sits down beside me, crossing her legs. “Hi, Xander. I thought I saw you earlier at the hotel.” She’s a beautiful woman—long, wavy dark hair, petite figure, very natural looking.
She’s wearing jeans, a blue shirt with some kind of foil design, and silver sandals. 


Grinning at her I say, “Finally we catch up. Can I get you a drink?” 


“I’d love that. How’s life on the road been?” 


“You know, it has its ups and downs but actually not bad. You?” 


“Jane’s been going full-force for a while now. But the tour ends with the summer. 
I’ll be glad to be back in LA.” 

Standing up, I laugh. “I know the feeling. I’ll be right back, let me grab us that
drink.” Tossing my empty bottle, I make my way to the coolers lined up under the tent and grab two beers. I know she’d rather have a glass of Chardonnay but beer it is. Amy is Jane’s assistant and I’ve taken her out more than a few times. We went to high school together and Amy and I know most of the same people so whenever I need a date, I ask her. Last time I saw her was almost nine months ago when I took her to River and Dahlia’s wedding. 


Heading back to the table I hear Jane yell out to the crowd, “Are you ready for three of the hottest guys in music?” The audience starts screaming and the stage lights dim cuing the guys that it’s the fifteen-minute countdown until they take the stage. The band huddles together in their typical pre-performance stance. I’ll have a quick drink with Amy and then join them. As I hand her the bottle my fingers touch hers and we both grin, knowing that we will end up alone by the end of the night. 


“You sticking around for the whole show?” 


“I think I might,” she smiles. 


“How about we ride back to the hotel together and grab a real drink at the bar?” 


“Sounds like a plan.” 


“Great. Time for me to get back to work.”


She rises from the table, I do the same. She stands up on her toes and kisses me
quickly on the lips. “See you tonight,” she smiles.


“Catch you later,” I say and then cross the room to join the band.


“You’re late,” Nix snickers. “What’s with you two anyway?” he asks.


I shrug my shoulders. “Nothing. We casually see each other once in a while.”


Garrett raises an eyebrow. “Chicks are never cool with casual.” Shaking my head at him, I don’t bother to disagree. Amy and I have been doing this
for years. It works for her and for me. We like each other’s company but only see each other sporadically. I’ll call her once in a while and we’ll go out but we are in no way exclusive. I don’t ask her about other men and she doesn’t ask me about other women. I grab the bottle and pour the amber liquid into the shot glasses stacked on the cap. It’s our pre-show routine. A shot and a prayer, so to say. It’s Garrett’s turn tonight to ‘pray’ so this should be good. 


He raises his glass. “Here’s to hoping Xander gets laid so he’ll get off our backs.”
Tipping my glass back, I quickly down the amber liquid. It burns as it makes its way down my throat. Once we’ve all drank our two shot maximum before a show Garrett follows his toast up with, “Seriously man, you need to get laid.”
The guys laugh and I actually join in. Jerking off in the small bathroom on the bus is definitely one of the downsides of touring. I’ve slept with a few girls at some of our stops but screwing groupies isn’t really my thing. I’m not one to have time for a girlfriend but I’m also not about to pull my dick out backstage, so it’s been a long six months. 


Zane coughs after he slings back the shot and I look at him with concern. 


“You’re going to a doctor tomorrow.” 

He shakes his head. “Yes, Mom, if you say so.”


“I’m not kidding. Your voice sounds like shit.”


“It’s a fucking cold. I took some medicine. I’ll be fine.”


“Doctor. Tomorrow. I mean it. I’ll have Ena set it up.”


“I can always sing,” Garrett chimes in and I smack the back of his head.


“Hey. I can.”


The lights start to flicker and I look at Zane with that feeling of uneasiness again. Second time this tour he’s coughing and hacking. We’re screwed if he really gets sick. He nods at me as I pat him on the back. Slinging his guitar over his shoulder, he heads out first raising his arm in the air. The crowd goes crazy. The six foot guy is a chick magnet and no one misses my brother tonight. Garrett heads out next yelling, “Great to be here Mountain View!” and Nix follows with his trademark nod. Zane skips his normal charming banter and I know he must be saving his voice. Again, I think about how we’re fucked if he gets sick. I stand at the edge of the stage all night until they finally come to their last song. “It Wasn’t Days Ago,” is a simple but crowd affecting ballad and Zane belts it out. Shouts from nearly thirty thousand fans call for an encore. Turning away from the microphone Zane coughs again. Biting his thumbnail he looks over at me and I slice my finger across my neck. 

“One more song for tonight,” he tells the screaming fans and my blood pressure
rises. “This one is a cover, an ‘ode to’ I’ll call it. It’s for Xander Wilde, the band’s manager and it’s his favorite song. Everyone ready?” As he starts to sing Linkin Park’s “Iridescent,” I close my eyes and listen. When he hits the chorus his voice gets so low my eyes snap open. Zane turns to grab a bottle of water while the guys continue to play but I can tell something isn’t right.

***

Last night definitely didn’t go as planned—a visit to the ER, then sleeping in a chair next to Zane all night on the bus because the steroids he was given freaked him out. It’s noon and Amy and I are just arriving at the Pelican Hill Resort. Breathless was leaving right after the show last night so Amy had already planned to ride with us and meet up with them in Irvine. She invited me to some party being thrown by her band’s label that I would have rather not gone to but Ellie, the tour manager, insisted we all go for the good PR. 


I’m exhausted and really need some sleep before dealing with the press and
tomorrow night’s show. The paparazzi have been everywhere—by the bus as we exited to the waiting car in LA, outside the doctor’s office, at the gates of Zane’s father’s house, and now they’re here in Irvine at the hotel. To avoid the chaos awaiting us in the lobby, I call Ellie, who is already here, and ask her to check me in and meet me at the pool bar with the key. Draping my arm around
Amy, we head that way. I’ve been here a few times so I know my way around. Cutting through the grotto and over to the pool and cabanas, I steer Amy to the right and stop in my tracks as all the air rushes from my lungs. My body floods with adrenaline and my gut twists. I don’t even have to do a double take because I’d know her anywhere. There’s no mistaking her. She’s just so beautiful— the elegant planes of her face, those high cheekbones, red lipstick, her platinum blonde hair shorter than it used to be tucked behind her ear, that face of an angel. She looks the same. No, she looks better. Her skin glistens in the sun and my gaze automatically follows the shape of her long legs. They look smooth and tan against her white bathing suit. An ache forms in my chest as I think about running my fingers up them. She’s still that eighteen-year-old girl I once knew but now she has the body of a woman—lean and toned and full of curves. When she moves it’s so familiar it doesn’t seem like a day has passed—and everything I ever felt for her, it’s all still inside me. 


My pulse races at the mere sight of her. She’s lounging in the cushioned chair
reading a magazine just outside a cabana. My heart slams harder in my chest when she sticks her earphones in her ears like she always used to do and it transports me back to the last time I saw her do the very same thing. We’d skipped school and were at my grandparents’ house—their pool. She was lying on the lounge chair listening to music and singing along—her voice so full of soul. I’d moved to sit with her under the guise of putting lotion of her back. She sat up and smiled that shy smile she didn’t need to have when she was with me. I squeezed the tube into my hand and after rubbing them together I slowly applied it to her back kneading my way up and down, touching every inch of her that I could. 


It brings me back to the here and now when she suddenly sits up and looks over at me. Her eyes pin me in place. She looks at me as if she remembers me for who I was, what we were, not what I did to her. With my chest pounding, memories of us keep flashing through my mind. Fighting a smile, I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing— remembering what we were, what we shared, how we loved. 


She quickly breaks our connection when she averts her eyes over to the man handing her a drink. I suck in a deep breath trying not to feel sick at the sight. He’s nearing fifty, wearing a terrycloth robe. He’s about my height, dark brown hair, meticulously groomed facial hair, and not exactly ripped but fit. He’s Damon Wolf, a man I’ve never actually met but hate all the same. I’ve seen their picture on TV and in magazines. He’s her agent, her fiancé, and I’m sure he’s the reason she’s not singing anymore. She looks up at him with that same forced smile she used to give people she just wanted to appease and mouths “thank you.” I have a sudden urge to go over and deck him when her gaze shifts back to mine and he pulls her chin back to look at him. I can sense a discomfort between them. We could sense each other’s feelings even when we weren’t near each other. 

Amy’s hand slides down my face and I have to blink a few times before I can hear what she’s saying. Glancing one last time at Ivy I see that she’s staring at me again. Then suddenly her mouth forms a scowl and she flicks her attention toward him. Hooking her arm around his neck, she pulls him down for a kiss and I think I might throw up. 


“Are you okay?”


I nod. Not able to say a word.


“Isn’t that Ivy Taylor over there? The girl you used to date in high school?” Amy asks. There’s an irritated tone to her voice I’m not used to hearing and it makes me agitated. 

“Yeah, it is,” is all I say. She’s not just a girl I used to date…she’s the only girl I
ever really loved. She’s also the girl whose heart I broke. Seeing her now brings back all those feelings I blocked, ignored, tucked aside. So many times over the years I wanted to go after her and tell her the truth—but I never did. Why I don’t know. Then one day it was too late—she had gotten engaged. 


Amy chatters on. “I think that’s Damon Wolf with her. We should go say hi.”
My body goes cold and my face blank at the thought. I straighten and just as I’m about to say, “No fucking way,” my phone vibrates in my pocket. Squinting at the screen, I see that it’s my brother. I look over to Amy and motion toward the bar. “Hey, this is River. I need to take it. I’ll meet you over there in a minute.” “That’s fine. We can catch up with them later. I’ll go order us a drink.” She smiles and starts toward the bar. 


Turning around to avoid staring at Ivy, I answer the phone. “It took you long enough to call me back.” 

“I was in a meeting and stepped out as soon as I could, so don’t start. What did the doctor say about Zane?” 


“He’s out for the rest of the tour and we’re fucked.” “You sure? You’re back in LA for almost two weeks after tomorrow night right? Isn’t that enough time for him to heal?” 


“Technically yes. But his old man wants him out. The doctor said that he couldn’t be sure how long the blood that accumulated under his vocal cords had been there but obviously last night, the amount of ruptured vessels was enough to cause his voice to change. He advised at least two weeks of rest before another evaluation to see if surgery is necessary. Zeak wants his son to take a longer period of time off. He’s just afraid that if Zane keeps singing and it keeps happening, scar tissue will build up and cause his voice to change forever.” 


“Do you blame him?” 


“No I don’t,” I tell River and I feel like shit that I have to put him in a position to do that he didn’t want to do in the first place. But I also know that if I don’t, the band won’t survive. If I have to cancel this tour—the Wilde Ones are done. So I ask, “Did you talk to Dahlia?”


He sighs. “Yeah, I did. She’s cool with it, Xander. I’m just trying to figure it all out.” 


“You know I’ll do whatever you need me to do, right?”


“Shit why can’t you just be an ass and make it easy for me to say no?”


“Because you have no idea what this means to me.”


“Actually I do, and that’s why I’m going to make it happen. But Xander, remember I can’t play a twelve string.”


Laughter and relief take hold of me. I feel a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.


“Right now I wouldn’t care if you only played the violin,” I joke.


He laughs and I add, “You’ll be here tonight?”


Now he sounds slightly annoyed. “I said I would. We might be a little late so don’t get your panties in a wad.”


“That’s cool. Thanks for everything. Hey, one more thing.’


“What?”


“Ivy Taylor’s here.”


“No way. Have you talked to her?”


“Fuck no. You know she won’t talk to me. And besides she’s with that asshole.”


“You should talk to her. Tell her the truth.” “What’s that going to do now? She’ll just think I’m lying.”


“You want me to talk to her? I can explain everything.”


“No. I don’t need my little brother to fight my battles. I’ll talk to her if I feel the time is right. Do you hear me?”


“Whatever you say. Look, I have to run but I want to discuss this later. And
Xander…you don’t know he’s an asshole. Just because Dad said his name once doesn’t mean shit.”


“Right. Okay, see you tonight,” I say and end the call. My head is spinning knowing that after all these years I’m actually in the same place she is. I want to talk to her, tell her everything but what would it matter now anyway. Glancing behind me, I catch another glimpse of her with him that turns my stomach. He’s such a slime ball. Since his father was hospitalized and he took over the business, he’s been scooping up labels, tearing them apart, and rebuilding them with bands he thinks are better fits. My guess is he picked up Jane’s label—that’s why he’s here. I heard they were having some financial
difficulty and he’s just the kind of bottom feeder that would want to capitalize on not only being her agent but now also her producer. The sight of him touching Ivy makes my skin crawl. 


Damon Wolf—two of the last words my father ever spoke to me before killing
himself, and I never knew why. Of all the guys in the world Ivy had to end up with him—why him? I look up and they’re gone. But I’m anything but relieved. Rubbing my chin,


I’m antsy, agitated, pissed as hell, but feel more alive than I have in years.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Cover Reveal: Last Shadow by Pepper Winters

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Title: Last Shadow
Author: Pepper Winters
Genre: Dark Romance
Tentative Release Date: April 2014


A New Adult Dark Contemporary Romance, not suitable for people sensitive to slavery, cruelty, and non-consensual sex. A story about a killer with no remorse, a woman living in nightmares, and a future that binds them in servitude.

I’m named after the blackest of shadows. Conjured from earth, created by demons, molded by fire to become the perfect killer. I need no-one. I feel nothing. I am nobody… until her. 

My name is of no consequence, they sometimes call me whore, slut, or possession. I dance by night and waste away by day. Every foul moment of this life is replaced with my hopes and dreams, inked onto my skin for the world to see. I have a promise to keep. I will be free—it’s only a matter of time…until him.




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Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex. J She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends. Her debut book Tears of Tess will be followed with Quintessentially Q. You didn’t think Q could stop so soon, did you? Her other two titles, Last Shadow and Broken Chance will be coming soon. 

If you haven’t read Pepper’s best-seller Tears of Tess, now is a perfect time just before Quintessentially Q hits the shelves in December. 
  
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Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Cover Reveal: Wild by Adriane Leigh

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Title Wild
Author: Adriane Leigh
Expected Release Date: December 13, 2013
Genre: Erotic Romance
Hosted by: Love Between the Sheets


Kat Kennedy moved to the rugged coast of Maine to start a new life, but encountered much more than she bargained for in dark, dangerous, and seductive Lane Wild… Desire and temptation smolder before she succumbs to her darkest fantasies with the captivating stranger. She doesn't expect to see him again after an explosive one-night stand leaves her breathless and craving more, but just like lightning in the darkness, he shows up in her life at the most unpredictable moments. A sensual game of cat and mouse ensues before the attraction between them reaches a fever pitch—the magnetism combustible, the sexual tension nearly unbearable—and Kat finally abandons inhibition and explores the cunning, selfish, and sexual side of a world she's never known. They have the perfect non-relationship—passion- fueled nights with no strings attached—until lifegets real and the past and present collide in a dangerous storm of lust and obsession.



Sunday morning and I felt like ass. Complete an total bullshit ass. Worst hangover of my entire fucking existence. I stepped through the doors of my small cottage on the beach and headed straight for the bathroom. I needed to get the awful taste of alcohol out of my mouth. I hadn’t gotten so fall-down drunk since I was in high school. That graduation party that Jenny Gordon had had when we drank vodka and juice and I made out with her brother. Every time I closed my eyes that night I saw stars. Actual stars spinning behind my eyelids. I stepped into the bathroom and assessed myself in the mirror. My cheeks: hollow. My hair: a wild mess, tangled around my shoulders. Dark circles under my eyes and a smudge of mascara rimmed beneath my eyelashes. I looked like hell and I felt like hell, and the actual worst part about it was it wasn’t just me there to witness it. Here I was, stumbling in at six am, fresh from crawling out of someone else’s bed. What a shit storm I’d created last night. His wild dark hair and sexy grin slammed into my brain. He’d driven me to distraction at the bar last night. I’d only been in town a few weeks, and I’d stopped in for just one drink. I was keeping to myself, but I couldn’t help but notice his beautiful face and body made for sin throwing darts with a few other guys. His laugh was full and hearty and echoed across the room garnering everyone's attention. The women fawned over him and the guys hung out with him; he was the most popular guy in the pace, commanding the attention of all. And even when I was trying to divert my eyes I couldn’t help but sneak glances. So I'd had another drink and pretended not to watch that devilishly handsome grin light his face. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked. The breath caught in my throat when I turned to look at him. He looked at me with a sexy sparkle in his endlessly deep, arctic blue eyes. His full lips turned up in a seductive grin. He was so much fucking trouble, I could see it pouring off him. If I hadn’t suspected it before when he was flirting with all the girls in the place, It was obvious now that I was in his space. But unfortunately for me I so liked being there. “Thanks.” I nodded my head and turned back to my drink because there was nothing else I could say. He slid onto the bar stool beside me and nodded to the bartender. “Haven’t seen you before, passing through?” his deep voice reverberated across the space between us and slammed straight between my thighs. He had the sexiest voice I’d ever heard. How was it possible for one man to be so sexy? To be so blessed with the entire package? A sharp stubbled jaw line, the fullest lips that had me wondering what they’d feel like trailing across my body, stunning eyes that sparkled mischievously when he spoke. It was obvious he left intelligent women everywhere struggling to find words. “New, yes. Thanks.” I smiled as the bartender set our drinks down. I don’t remember much from that point on. Well that's not true, I remember bits and pieces, the most delicious parts. His hands ran up under my shirt as he pinned me against the door of his truck. </ i> His lips on my neck, teeth nipping at the flesh. Stumbling up the steps to his house, his body slamming me against the front door, hands locked above my head as one of his palms trailed up my thigh and under my dress to hook my leg around his hip. A thumb hooking in the delicate lace of my panties before his fingers breach the fabric and run up my soaking wet length. My</ i> body writhing against his as he sucked on my earlobe, his fingers working in an out of me before my first orgasm bloomed low in my belly and shot across every nerve I had. He opened the door and we stumbled into his house, making it just to the foyer before he kicked the door closed and laid me down on the floor, his hard body hovering over mine, caging me in. The sound of a zipper as he pushed the jeans down his powerful thighs. His rough hands trailing up my legs and over my ribcage before pulling the dress over my shoulders. Fingers hooking in my pushup bra and pulling the fabric down to reveal the hardened peaks of my nipples. Teeth dragging across the sensitive flesh as he slides between my thighs and teases his arousal through my slick folds. The low growl that escaped his throat as my nails dug into the hard muscle of his back and dragged across his skin. My second orgasm in as many minutes as he ground his hips between my thighs and fucked me so hard the only words that escaped my lips were, “Oh, God.” Oh, I remembered plenty. But the most mortifying of my walk of shame this morning was the realization that I still hadn’t caught his name. 



Adriane 

LeighAdriane Leigh was born and raised in a snowbank in Michigan's Upper Peninsula and now lives amongst the sand dunes of the Lake Michigan lakeshore. She graduated with a Literature degree but never particularly enjoyed reading Shakespeare or Chaucer. Adriane is married to a tall, dark and handsome guy, plays mama to two sweet baby girls, and is a voracious reader and knitter. 

Cover Reveal: The Perfect Distraction

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TITLE - The Perfect Distraction (Book #1) 
AUTHOR - Melissa Rolka 
GENRE - New Adult 
RELEASE DATE - October 1, 2013 



When Katherine “Kate” leaves for her freshmen year at college, a grounded and stable piece of her is missing. She pushes away the ghosts of her past, determined to start her college life single, carefree and distracted. Throughout high school Kate was reserved and shy, with little experience. Now, on her own, with little holding her back, Kate is ready to branch out. She bonds with a tight knit group of friends and even starts casually dating. What starts out as innocent flirting on the tennis courts slowly turns into a friendship and eventually something more complex. Reed comes into her life giving her the distraction she craves more than anything; but is she ready to give her heart away so easily? Things get complicated when Kate’s ex-boyfriend and first love continues to pursue her. Kyle deeply regrets breaking her heart when he left for college the year before and is now on a mission to reclaim her. Kyle’s persistence and relentlessness is nothing short of obsessive. He will stop at nothing to win her back and prove his love. Kate finds herself torn between her past and the unknown of the future. Her determination to stay distracted may just be her downfall or the beginning of something new and wonderful.



 
1170755_502594919828415_972857835_n Melissa Rolka grew up in the Chicagoland area all of her childhood and has always had a love of writing. She started by keeping a journal at a young age and then in high school she started writing poetry. A couple poems were published anonymously. Then in college she majored in Philosophy, which required lots and lots of writing. After graduating from Marquette University she traveled west to Los Angeles. There she worked for the Writers Guild of America and found herself submerged in the writers world. She worked on small writings, but never pursued them. On the side she became involved with a small theater group. Eventually she made her way back to the Midwest, where her heart belongs, and worked in business for several years. She found love, got married and has two beautiful children. Being at home has allowed her to keep following her love of reading and writing.The Perfect Distraction is her first full length novel. A second continuation of this story is in the works with hopes for a third. When Melissa is not writing she is caring for, playing with and loving her two kids. In between taking care of her family and writing she almost always has her nose buried in her Kindle.


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