Songbird Audio Book Blitz

We’re celebrating the audio book release of Songbird by Sydney Logan! I love this contemporary romance and I’m so thrilled to share it with you!! Check out the book and grab your copy today!

 

Songbird Synopsis:

Songbird ebook

One bridesmaid. One groomsman. One classic wedding hookup.

But for Callie and Devin, their weekend of passion is anything but typical.

Callie Franklin doesn’t do one night stands.

Ever.

She’s far too responsible and focused on her career to ever let herself give in to temptation. But, on the eve of her best friend’s wedding, she meets that temptation . . .

And his name is Devin McAllister.

Devin, on the other hand, has no problem with meaningless hookups. The very last thing he needs—or wants—is a relationship.

Relationships come with strings.

Relationships come with heartbreak.

A late-night encounter in the hotel’s piano bar finds the two unable to resist each other. With her angelic voice and bright blue eyes, Devin’s sure he’s never met anyone as beautiful as his Songbird.

Six weeks later, when two pink lines confirm Callie’s worst fears, she and Devin have to face the consequences of their wild weekend.

And they have to deal with each other—whether they like it or not.

With a love story that’s far from traditional, Callie and Devin begin to wonder if their one-night stand could turn into something neither of them anticipated.

A happily ever after.

 

Buy Links:

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Exclusive Excerpt:

Traffic’s insane, but I finally make it to Callie’s apartment just after two. I anxiously knock on the door, ridiculously eager to get my hands on her. Maybe she’ll be wearing some flimsy lingerie. Maybe she’ll be naked. My mind’s busy conjuring all the possibilities when she opens the door . . . wearing a sweatshirt and jeans.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping aside to let me in.

“Hey. You okay?”

She looks pale as a ghost. Is she sick? She looks sick. Maybe I should call an ambulance. Or my dad.

“I’m okay.” Callie leads me over to the sofa. “Look, Devin, I know you probably have some plans for us for tonight, but that won’t be happening.”

“Oh.” Disappointment floods me, but if the nauseated look on her face is any indication, it’s probably best. Besides, there’s the next night. And the next.

“But we need to talk, so I’m glad you’re here. I have something I need to tell you.” She abruptly jumps to her feet and walks toward her kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

I can’t tell if she’s being a good hostess or simply stalling, but I ask for a beer. It looks like I’m gonna need it. I hadn’t pegged her for the kind of woman who needs to talk about her feelings.

When she returns to the living room, Callie hands me a bottle and sits down next to me. I notice she only brought one.

“You’re not drinking?”

She curls her feet beneath her. “Unfortunately, no. I won’t be drinking for a long time.”

I’ve had it with the riddles.

“All right, what’s going on? My brother and his girlfriend threatened to murder me if I make you cry. Something’s obviously up with you because you just want to talk.”

Her forehead creases. “Don’t you ever just talk to a woman?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Why not? The girls you usually date don’t have enough sense to carry on an intelligent conversation?”

“I don’t date, Callie.”

“I see. You just sleep with them.”

“Sometimes. Is there something wrong with that?”

“And are you careful?”

“Careful?”

“Safe,” she says softly. “We didn’t use protection. I just wondered if that’s typical for you.”

Oh. It’d be easy to blame the alcohol, but honestly, using protection was the very last thing on my mind that night.

“No, that’s not typical. I’m sorry about that.”

“So am I.”

Callie seems far more relaxed after my apology. Maybe this night won’t be an epic failure after all. I slide closer to her, but she raises her hand in warning.

“We’re not finished.”

I groan and lean back against the couch.

“Devin, I need you to listen. Something happened that weekend. I’m almost positive you won’t want to sleep with me after you hear what I’m about to say.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“I don’t.” Callie sits up a little straighter and squares her shoulders. “I want you to know I expect nothing from you. Our weekend together was a mistake, and I’ll deal with the consequences of it. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do at this point, but I thought you should at least know what’s going on.”

“What’s going on?”

Her eyes flood with tears.

“Devin, I’m pregnant.”

Pregnant.

Pregnant?

I stare at her. She stares at me. I watch her closely, hoping that at any moment she’s going to burst out laughing.

But she’s not laughing. She’s crying.

I hear Lorie’s voice in my suddenly throbbing head.

Don’t make her cry.

“Why . . . why are you telling me?”

She wipes her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You’re assuming it’s mine?”

“Of course it’s yours!”

I snort. “Really? How can you be so sure? Maybe it was that bartender in the hotel’s piano bar. Or maybe it was the guy who sat with you at the reception. Or maybe—just maybe—it was the photographer you were with tonight. You two seem pretty close.”

Even as the bitter words drip off my tongue, I know better. Her face is just too furious . . . her eyes too heartbroken.

Suddenly, Callie stops crying. Her eyes flash with fury just seconds before she slaps me across the face.

Despite the ringing in my ears, I can hear my brother’s warning.

Don’t be an asshole tonight.

Too late.

 

Sydney Logan Bio:

Sydney Logan Bio Pic jpgAmazon best-selling author Sydney Logan holds a Master’s degree in Elementary Education. She is the author of five novels – Lessons Learned, Mountain Charm, Soldier On, Once Upon a December, and Pros & Cons. Sydney has also penned several short stories and is a contributor to Chicken Soup for the Soul.

A native of East Tennessee, Sydney enjoys playing piano and relaxing on her porch with her wonderful husband and their very spoiled cat.

Visit her website at www.sydneylogan.com.

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Hooked by Christine Manzari

I am so excited to share HOOKED by Christine Manzari! Christine is sharing an excerpt and giveaway with us today, so check it all out!!

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About Hooked:

hooked_cover_final_medIf you ask the confident and snarky skater girl, and she’s in the mood to share, she’ll tell you her name is Cat. She might even tell you that she’s hooked on graffiti, 80s movies, and having fun—the riskier the better. Cat will share a good time with you, but she won’t ever trust you enough to share her heart. It’s protected by secrets and she’d like to keep it that way.

Cat knows one thing for certain: Love isn’t really her thing.

If you ask the confident and rich pretty boy, he might tell you his name is Huck. He might even tell you he loves a challenge and is used to getting his way. He won’t tell you that his life is a mess because he risked his heart by trusting the wrong girl. Huck is ready for a change, he just wasn’t ready to get hooked on someone like Cat.

Huck knows one thing for certain: Love hasn’t done him any favors, but Cat just might be worth the risk.

Cat and Huck think a one-night stand seems harmless, but when all the little secrets they didn’t share turn out to be toxic truths, they realize how easily a one-night stand (or a few) could ruin everything.

The thing is, you can be ruined in more than one way. Once you’re HOOKED, what wouldn’t you risk for the chance at more?

Buy Links:

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Exclusive Excerpt:

Huck’s lips came back to mine, dangerous and urgent as his hands and mouth pulled soft moans from me. Finally, I unhooked my feet and gently pushed back on his chest without breaking the kiss. He seemed desperate to keep his lips on mine, but he allowed me to move his body. I turned us around and then pushed him down into a seated position on the ground, his back against the wall. Then I straddled him, my bare knees digging into the sand uncomfortably. I didn’t care. The discomfort was nothing compared to the ripples of pleasure that were pulsing through the lower part of my body when I settled into his lap.

Huck’s hands slid under me, his thumbs grazing the edge of my panties as he cradled my bare cheeks.

“This thong is a sin,” he growled, twirling the strap in his thumb as if he was going to rip them off. Part of me wanted him to. “Why are we sitting on the ground?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Less chance of being seen,” I said.

“Seen doing what?” he mumbled against my shoulder as he kissed along the bare skin.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing I should stay quiet. But my brain wasn’t in control anymore, my body was. Huck’s lips were at the hollow of my throat, his tongue tracing a wicked circle before his lips followed. His hands were still on my ass and I’m not even sure if he was aware he was moving my hips, grinding me down on what was clearly his appreciation of my sinful thong.

“Huck.” His name was a moanful plea.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”

“What?”

“My name. Say my name again.”

“Huck.”

He groaned, his lips back on mine, eager to catch his name falling from them. He pushed my hips down while he lifted up into me and I could feel our bodies falling into a tempo we couldn’t deny. Our hips moved against each other as we kissed one another in our secluded little spot on the beach.

“Huck, I’m wearing my fuck-me dress. Don’t let it go to waste.”

Unexpectedly, he went still underneath of me.

“What?” I asked. After all that talk about what he’d do to me, was he really going to chicken out?

“I don’t have a condom, Cat.”

“You’re a guy, isn’t it some kind of guy code that you always carry one?” I couldn’t help being irritated. How could he not have one?

“No.” He frowned. “Do you have one in your bag?”

“This wasn’t exactly planned,” I pointed out.

“Well, that sucks.” He was no longer moving underneath me and his thumb released my thong, but his lips were back on mine, taking what little bit I could give him. It was good, but it wasn’t enough. Not now that the other question was lingering in the air around us. I pulled away to look at him.

“Have you ever gone bareback before?”

 

Christine Manzari Bio:

Manzari_couchbooks_smThe first thing Christine does when she’s getting ready to read a book is to crack the spine in at least five places. She wholeheartedly believes there is no place as comfy as the pages of a well-worn book. She’s addicted to buying books, reading books, and writing books. Books, books, books. She also has a weakness for adventure, inappropriate humor, and coke (the caffeinated bubbly kind). Christine is from Forest Hill, Maryland where she lives with her husband, three kids, and her library of ugly spine books.

Links:

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The Opening Hook

Reft by Libby Austin–Book Blitz

Today we’re hosting a book blitz for Libby Austin’s Reft!! Check out today’s excerpt and giveaway!

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About Reft:

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. ~

Newton’s Third Law of Motion

Brandon “Brand” Carmichael’s life was the stuff dreams were made of…too bad it was an illusion. As a guitarist for Inert Motion, Brand traveled the world, performing with his brothers in all but blood. He never stopped moving all the while his mind played in a never ending loop. Now outside influences have changed the band’s course, leaving Brand’s life void of the balance he craved. Once again, his dream had become a recurring nightmare. Brand coped the only way he knew how; retreat into solitude.

Magdalena “Layna” Delacroix had achieved the long sought goal of her Ph.D. in Psychology, but success came at a high cost: over one hundred thousand dollars in debt. After being presented with the opportunity to fulfill her desire to help someone in the aftermath of tragedy, along with earning enough money to clear her debt and start a psychology practice of her own, Layna had to balance the means against the outcome. Could she be the force to stop the downward spiral of someone who refused to seek help?

Neither Brand nor Layna expected the reaction they had to one another. It was the opposite of everything they sought.

Could Layna live a lie while pushing Brand to live in the truth?

Would Brand forgive her for committing one unforgivable sin?

Or was he branded by destiny to be…

Reft

 

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Exclusive Excerpt:

“Sometimes I get in the zone and everything else gets tuned out. I forget to eat and sleep, or even what day it is. Things just blur together when I’m focusing. It’s like my mind can only devote itself to the creative. And I had a disagreement with my brother, which didn’t help matters.”

“Oh, do y’all fight a lot?” she asked while continuing to chow down on her syrup with a side of waffles. “My siblings and I fought all the time growing up, but now that we’re older, we get along much better, as long as we don’t have to share a room or a bathroom.”

“Not so much anymore. We did when we were younger. Then we didn’t talk for a long time.” My truth-telling danced a fine line. One conversation with my mom about Barrett and me having contact and everything would come crashing down. I loved my parents, but I couldn’t let go of Barrett again, not even for them.

“What made you, or him, get back in touch after not talking for such a long time?”

“Umm, well, uhh, I guess somewhere around the time Bow and Danelle got married, the dynamic of the band started changing. There was just a lot going on; Joker and Ruff stopped trying to kill each other and started fuc—dating each other, and then Touch met Kaitlyn and all of their shit went down, and I realized that even though my band had been my surrogate family for years, I needed my real family, my blood and my best friend since the beginning. So I began trying to reach out to Barrett, and one day, he responded.

“It’s been nice catching up with him and talking about all the things I’ve done with the band and stuff. He kept track of it all. We talk pretty much every day now, except when he’s pissed at me.”

“Does he ever come to visit? Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet him while I’m here. If he’s half as pushy as you are, I might like him,” she claimed with a smile, but panic rose inside me. Not because she thought I was pushy or she might like him better—Barrett and I had never been the type to compete or fight over a girl—but she wanted to meet him. Total no-go situation.

“Yeah, he probably won’t make it anytime soon. He’s got other obligations right now. But, uhh, but I need you to promise me you won’t tell my parents or your mom about Barrett.” My hands clinched the hard bench seat and my legs bounced up and down nervously. I didn’t know why I couldn’t keep my mouth shut around her, or just stay the fuck away from her.

“Why’s that?” By now, she’d stopped eating and was focusing on me, studying me, looking at me as if she could see the thoughts ripping through my head like a natural disaster in the making.

“They don’t talk to each other. My parents have, uhh, they have a different view of Barrett. He doesn’t want contact with them, and it’s just easier for everyone if they don’t know he’s talking to me. I don’t want to hurt them.”

“Do you think you could help them heal their rift before it’s too late and it can’t be fixed?”

“It’s already too late. The only thing I can do is try to salvage what I have left and not cause any more damage or harm or pain to anyone else.” I stopped and thought for a moment before I said anything else. “I shouldn’t have even told you; something about you makes you easy to talk to. But I need you to promise me that you aren’t going to repeat the things we talk about or that you see to my mom, your mom, or anyone else for that matter. If you can’t do that, we can’t be friends, or even friendly neighbors.”

Layna looked me directly in the eye. I’d always heard a person’s soul and true intentions show through the eyes, telling you if their intentions were good or bad. The look in Layna’s eyes told me her intentions were good.

“Brand, I promise I won’t repeat the things you tell me or that I see to your parents or mine.”

I took her promise at face value. What I should have remembered was the saying about good intentions and the road to hell being paved with them. I knew all about good intentions, and I knew all about hell. I’d lived in my own personal tormented version of hell for over a decade.
Kisses On A Park Bench
Beautiful dramatic woman face. Closeup. Black and white
 

About the Author:

One day some words came to mind, so I wrote them down. Soon the words became sentences, which formed paragraphs, which, in turn, formed chapters. Before long, those words had become a book.

When I’m not reading or writing, I’m a wife, mother, and business owner. I’ve lived on the Gulf, East, and West Coasts, but as a born and raised Southern girl, my favorite will always be the Gulf Coast. There’s just no place like home…

 Guitarist

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Ripple Effect Book Blitz

We’re having a book blitz for Ripple Effect by Kristin Mayer. I’m super excited to share this book blitz with you so—without further ado!!

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About Ripple Effect:

Every event in our life causes a ripple effect that we never truly understand until the waters calm and everything reveals itself. It’s in that moment we truly see…

Adam Ryker, owner of Club Envy, has his rules. Relationships stay within the walls of the club. Outside of that, people are merely acquaintances. After having his heart broken, he’s not interested in the happily ever afters and white picket fences. Adam’s interests lie in his club and giving pleasure to women.

Ainsley Pearson wants to be free. She needs an escape from her life. Her best friend suggests Club Envy. From the moment Ainsley sets foot in the club, Adam decides he wants to be the exclusive one to bring her pleasure.

He wants her.

He needs her.

He has to have her.

Adam finds himself wanting more.

Will this unforeseen ripple in Adam’s and Ainsley’s lives be too much to overcome? Or will the one thing they never thought they deserved have an everlasting effect?

Ripple Effect is book one of The Effect Series.

 

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Exclusive Excerpt:

She moved her head to one side. “I’m not a submissive. I don’t know the ins and outs of all that, but I know that’s not for me.”

She was all business, and I liked that about her. She wasn’t doing all that lovey-dovey giggle shit.

I relaxed my posture in my seat since she hadn’t said no. “I’m not asking for a submissive. We’ll both give each other what we need on equal ground. We’ll never do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

She let my words absorb. My eyes kept going to her top. It was a low-scoop green silk shirt. The club was cold, and as she shifted, I could make out the faint outline of her nipples.

Ainsley also relaxed her posture slightly as she leaned back in the chair. “And what do you need, Adam?”

“To fuck you hard, countless times, to be buried so deep inside you while you scream in pleasure—that’s what I want out of this, Ainsley. Lust and sex, that’s it.”

 

Check out the trailer!!

 

Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yD6pDDuY2iw

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About the Author:

Kristin Mayer is a wife, a proud mother, and a full-time Analyst and Import Manager. Since an early age, she has always enjoyed reading and writing. While visiting her father one weekend, he suggested that she should take up writing again. With family and a career, she didn’t give it a lot of thought, until a story entered her mind and wouldn’t leave. It just kept forming and developing over a couple of months.

At the beginning of 2013, she decided to sit down and write it all down, but she kept it to herself. One sentence developed into two, and before she knew it, she had the makings of a novel.

Kristin tries to live life to the fullest during every moment. She loves to travel and meet new people. She holds a degree in International Business and uses it daily in her job. Kristin now adds “author” on her list of jobs, and feels very blessed and thankful.

 

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TAG Book Blitz

Today we have a book blast for Shari Ryan’s Tag!!! And to celebrate the sale she’s running, Shari is sharing an exclusive excerpt and a fantastic giveaway.

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About Tag:

Tag_(Final_ebook)What if your family had a big secret . . . a life changing secret. My dad, the bigwig CIA agent, was always on the run, whether he was being chased or doing the chasing. I missed him. Then my mom passed away, and my sister was murdered. I turned my solitude to strength because the alternative was too bleak.

But my luck seemed to turn: I met Tango. And while I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my twenty-two years, danger lurks around every corner and I simply can’t take the chance of it finding me. But his tattoos, his smell, his darkness, and his body— that marine has taken over my every thought. But, what if he too isn’t what I think? A ticking time bomb isn’t going to leave me much time to waver. Even the bravest person can be in need of a miracle.

Before she was gone, my mom warned me to know everyone and trust no one. But what was I supposed to do when I found out I am the one not to be trusted? Turns out, I was always the bait in this conspiracy.

In author Shari J. Ryan’s gripping novel, TAG, the canyons hold secrets, the waterfalls provide safety, and romance has a pesky way of showing up when you are sweaty and dirty and least expect it.

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Exclusive Excerpt:

I’ve been seated among the dozens of other passengers for the past two hours, watching the gate times change a number of times before I see the plane actually arrive. Just as I’m powering my phone down, preparing to board, an awful stench burns my nose from a few inches away. A middle-aged man with greasy black hair and a thick lip-covering mustache who smells exactly like the inside of a port-a-potty has found a reason to sit directly beside me in a row of empty seats. When my eyes unfortunately meet his, he takes the opportunity to speak to me. “Heading to Boston?” he asks. I raise my eyebrows and force a tightlipped smile. I simply follow that with a nod and give him a no shit look. “I heard winter’s coming early this year,” he continues.

“Cool,” I mumble with a sigh. I pull a magazine out of my bag and open it in front of my face, hoping to block my vision of the man’s blackened-stained grin. But it’s only seconds before I’m taken back when his finger sweeps down the bare skin of my collarbone.

“What does that mean?” he asks, pointing to my tattoo.

With a smooth motion, I lay my magazine down onto my lap and place my hand over his, giving him the false notion that I’m a gentle person. I take the opportunity to offer him a slight smile before I twist his forefinger backwards as far as it will go before the expectant snap. “I’m sorry,” I say sweetly. “Did I tell you it was okay to touch me?” I pull down a little harder, and he smiles in response to the pain. But as I hold my hand there, I see the smile begin to fade.

“It’s a free country, chicky,” he sputters as his tongue knocks around between his bare gums.

“Why would you think it’s okay to touch me?” I ask again, keeping my voice calm, yet stern. He licks his lips and looks me up and down, responding with only a look. “Do you go around touching girls half your age because you feel it’s okay?”

He clears his throat and looks around to see who’s watching or listening, but I don’t move my eyes from his. “Why not?” he says, shrugging his bony shoulders. “Besides, you’re definitely asking for it.”

He thinks I’m asking for it? I’m wearing a fucking scoop neck, black long sleeve shirt, jeans, and combat boots. “The only reason it’s okay, is because no one has ever probably told you no. But it occurs to me that after I snap your finger off your hand, you won’t be able to touch people inappropriately anymore, will you?”

He hoots with laughter, dragging in attention he probably shouldn’t want. “You think you could break my finger, little chicklette?”

I pull his finger a little further, and his smile grows. “Ow, stop. You’re hurting me,” he puckers his lips and winks at me.

“Oh, look, it’s your right hand. You a righty?” I turn his hand over and see deep callouses bubbling on his palm. “Yes, you are. So, if I rip this thing off, you wouldn’t miss it, right?” I turn his hand back over and glare into his beady eyes. He’s questioning my words. He’s unsure of my capabilities. And that’s fine. “Sound okay to you? Or are you going to leave and stop touching people?” His smile fades and his eyes widen. I release his hand and offer him a smart-ass smile. “Oh, and the tattoo means death. It’s a Maori Warrior symbol. They used to eat their enemies once they slaughtered them. Cool, huh?”

I see his Adam’s apple struggle to move. He lifts his bag from the ground and nearly trips over his own feet, darting away.

I reopen my magazine to the page I was reading and refocus my attention on an article as I hear a soft chuckle coming from the other side of me. I turn to see who was enjoying the free entertainment and I’m faced with a man who looks to be either a wrestler or in the military–black shaven hair, stiff jaw and bulging muscles on every inch of his arms. His eyes are currently focused on a book, and I suppose he could have been laughing at that, rather than me. But as I question it, his large shamrock green eyes lift and look right at me. A slight grin tugs on the corner of his lips, and he winks so quickly I’m questioning whether it was me who might have blinked. Before I can react, he stands up and walks away.

I swallow hard and refocus my attention on the magazine once more. Stupid attractive man causing a moment of feebleness. I didn’t react, though. He winked at me. I think. And I didn’t make a snide comment or scowl. Weakness.

I let out a few short breaths, regaining my composure. He’s gone. It’s fine.

 

About Shari Ryan:

ShariProfilePicBestselling author, Shari J. Ryan, hails from Central Massachusetts where she lives with her hubby and two lively little boys. Ryan has published the 3-book Schasm Series for Romantic Suspense/Thriller fans. TAG is her first book written solely for the Romantic Suspense audience, and she is hard at work on Red Nights, a standalone coming this spring. To learn more, visit her at: www.sharijryan.com

 

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