Thursday, March 31, 2016

Down To My Soul by Kennedy Ryan Blog Tour Stop


Down to My Soul concludes the journey Rhyson Gray and Kai Pearson began in Book 1 of the Soul Series, My Soul to Keep!

 You must read Book 1 first.

Release Week Pricing Both Books 99¢ This Week


RHYSON

She doesn't wear my ring. We never stood before a preacher. The only vows exchanged were between our bodies; between our souls. But she was mine and I was hers until I ruined it. I have to believe that every day, every step, every breath brings me closer to making things right. To making her mine again. KAI I've seen promises broken. I know love makes no guarantees. But things were different for Rhys and me, until he lied, and I walked away. Only there's a chain between our hearts that I can't break. Even if I forgive him, a shadow from my past hangs over us; over this love that reaches all the way down to my soul. 

Book 2 - Down to My Soul

Amazon: 

iBooks:

B&N: 
Pending 

Kobo: 


Review:

Holy hell after reading my soul to keep my heart was broken, torn in two. I was routeing for Kai and Rhys every turn of the page. Then I get to the end and I scream OMG WTF just happened? So I had to start down to my soul immediately.


Rhys had it all. He had Kai and all he had to do was love her and take care of her and be honest with her. But everyone has a past and Rhys is no different. He has secrets and told lies and it tore Kai and him apart. After Kai walked away Rhys life changed for the worse. He knew he had to get Kai back but he wasn't sure he could get her back.


Kai walked away from Rhys because of a lie but she holds secrets to and when she is confronted by them she will have to come face to face with her demons. She loves Rhys and can't get him out of her mind, body, or soul. Can they get back together and have that true love or will secrets and lies destroy them?


Book 1 - My Soul to Keep


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iBooks:

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Kobo:

Goodreads ➔ bit.ly/1OrzB3r

*Add the Audiobook for only $1.99!

Review:

This is an amazing just simply amazing story. I love a good love story with lots of twists and turns and this one has it all. Love is never easy but having a relationship with a music star is hard.

In this story we meet Kai and Rhyson. Kai is taking care of her mother who got real sick and needed help. So Kai puts her life and music on hold to take care of her mother. When her mother passes away she moves to LA to pursue her music career. It is in a music class she meets Rhyson but she has no intentions on being nothing more than friends. Kai is ready to move on with her life and fulfill her dream of being in the music industry.

Rhyson is a music prodigy and he lives music. So when his uncle asks him to come teach a class he says yes. It is in this class that he notices the beautiful girl who feels the music and understands it. Rhyson is captivated by her but when he goes to pursue her she tells him they can be nothing more than friends.

Can Rhyson and Kai have a happily ever after without giving up who they are and what they want in life?


E X C E R P T

“Rhys?” His name rushes from my mouth on a breath, and I’m off the bed, hurling myself at him top speed. Somehow my legs wrap around his waist and my arms tangle behind his neck. I couldn’t hold back and play this cool if I wanted to. Every part of me that’s been fighting to stay focused, to keep working, to be on, collapses against him. 

Surrenders to the feel of him in my arms and the smell of him. My fingers lace through his hair. I scatter kisses across his face, the sharp angles and taut skin warm beneath my lips. “So I take it you’re happy to see me?” He chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine, hands squeezing my thighs. “Happy?” I release something that’s half a sob, half a laugh, pulling back a few centimeters to let him breathe. “What gave you that idea?” We stop grinning at the same time, laughter dissolving, our bodies exchanging sensual information.

 My breasts flattened to his chest. His erection growing and hardening against my core. Our breaths mingling and hearts tattooing beats through our clothes and into the other’s skin. I move first, leaning in to capture his bottom lip between mine, sucking and pulling between my teeth. Licking into his mouth like there’s honey hidden inside. He groans into the kiss, walking backward until we reach the bed and dropping me so I bounce a little, his eyes roving over me head to toe. “Pep, what the hell are you wearing?” Humor and desire tussle in his eyes.

 I look down, laughing when I see the young Jackson brothers emblazoned across my chest, my legs ending in the footed bottoms. “If I’d known you were coming, I could have made sexier arrangements.” “Arrangements?” He quirks a dark brow, placing a knee on either side of my legs, hovering over me like a promise. “Lingerie would have been nice. Other rock stars have girlfriends who wear lingerie.” “Oh, are you referring to yourself as a rock star now?” I grin up at him, feeling whole for the first time since he kissed me goodbye a week ago.

 “That’s not egomaniacal at all. Is there a club? You guys have rock star meetings? Does one of you take rock star minutes?” “You are sitting in here listening to my music in the dark.” He leans forward to tug at the zipper beneath my chin. “Maybe you’re actually one of my crazed fans. Or a groupie. I might even find a Mrs. Rhyson Gray t-shirt around here somewhere. My girlfriend doesn’t like those.” “No, she doesn’t.” I shake my head, eyes never straying from his. A small frown jerks his brows together. He tugs again at the zipper, but it doesn’t budge. “Pep, it’s stuck,” he says. 

“Sometimes it does that,” I answer easily, enjoying the frustration spreading over his expression as he keeps pulling and it keeps staying. He places my hand over his cock, hard and poking through his jeans. “Well, it’s not exactly a good time for it to do that.” I laugh, grasping my zipper and tugging. Wow, it really is stuck. These are vintage PJs, older than I am and threadbare in places. I’m surprised the zipper hasn’t rusted before now.

 I sit up, bringing our bodies closer as I jiggle the little hook a few times. Nothing. “Just how attached are you to this Jackson Five onesie?” His glance burns hot across my subtle curves visible through the thin flannel, telegraphing his intentions. “Well this is Michael’s original nose.” I release a fake exasperated sigh. 

“But I do have my sewing kit.” “All I needed to hear.” Sorry, boys. He grabs the two ends of the collar separated by the zip line and pulls until there’s a ripping sound, the panels falling back to reveal my naked breasts and my panties. 

A wicked grin spreads across lips. “You naughty girl.” He runs a finger over the writing on the front of my calendar panties, carrying a current that simultaneously hitches my breath and gets me wet. 

“Wearing Monday panties on a Thursday. My little rebel.”

 

Release Week Giveaway!

($10 Amazon Gift Card, Rhys + Kai mason jar glass, Reader's Choice Kennedy Signed Paperback)
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About Kennedy Ryan

I just can't write about myself in third person for one more bio! I'm a wife, a mom, a writer, an advocate for families living with autism. That's me in a nutshell. Crack the nut, and you'll find a Southern girl gone Southern California who loves pizza and Diet Coke, and wishes she got to watch a lot more television. You can usually catch me up too late, on social media too much, or FINALLY putting a dent in my ever-growing To Be Read list! I love to hear from readers at kennedyryanwrites@gmail.com. 

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Twinsie Talk Book Reviews Presents a Cover Reveal for Order of Fear by DEBUT Author Lisa Caviness





Sometimes fear is all that keeps you alive.

Murder

A senior account and future bride, Marissa Nash likes order, and she expects all the pieces of her life to add up. Her bottom line is skewed after she discovers her fiancĂ© has been unfaithful. When Marissa walks in to the unexpected—David dead and her dog, Halo, agitated and restless, she finds her nightmare is only beginning.

Passion

David's unenthused best man and traumatized former Army doctor, Justin Tanner understands that a wedding means more than a toast and a kiss. His reluctance stems from feelings that run deeper than they should for the bride. But when he finds Marissa cradling his best friend's lifeless body, can he find a way to suppress his feelings as they uncover David’s secret world?

Evil

The seemingly pointless murder launches Marissa and Justin into a wicked web of lies, delusion and danger at the hands of a powerful and psychotic foe.

Murder, passion, evil—who will survive?




As a lifelong reader of an eclectic pool of books from mystery/thrillers, science fiction, contemporary romance, and the classics, Lisa Caviness has never been without a book on the nightstand. Like many writers, she started crafting stories as a child. However, creativity took a back seat to her career in pharmaceutical and medical device research. In 2013, Lisa decided to get serious about writing and joined Romance Writers of America, and later Sisters in Crime. The education she has received has been invaluable but more importantly the support from fellow writers has enriched her in thrilling and unexpected ways.

Lisa is originally from Ohio but has lived in Massachusetts and is currently settled in Indiana with her husband and three children.

She writes romantic suspense.



Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Southern Belle Promotions Presents a Release Blitz for Above Protection by C.J. Pinard


Title: Above Protection (Imperfect Heroes #1)
Author: C.J. Pinard
Release Date: March 30, 2016
Find on Goodreads



He's bearded, angry, highly trained, and has a job to do. 
She's the damsel in distress who's smarter than she looks, and doesn't want anyone's help. 
Could it be they both need something neither will admit to? Fate fueled by the laws of attraction may just decide for them. 

DUKE 

I didn’t ask for this. I was just doing my job, and they have the nerve to put me on a Witness Protection detail? This is crap. I’ll do my assignment, then go back to my job and what I love – kicking ass and taking names. I hadn’t spent 6 years in the Marine Corps to be put on babysitting duty once I’d joined the FBI. The witness they assigned me to, Rayanne, is an annoying, brainless blonde with a sassy mouth and a body that belongs on a website you have to pay to access. Not that I noticed or anything. 

RAYANNE 

I can look after myself. I don’t need anyone’s help, and the government is being ridiculous for putting me in the Witness Protection Program. I'll testify against my former bosses and then go back to my life as a single girl in the big city. I love my career as a paralegal, and once this Neanderthal they’d assigned to babysit me is out of my life, I'll go back to it. I just wish he wasn’t so easy on the eyes. The beard, hard body, and that voice. Why couldn’t they have sent me someone ugly – and nice? Because Duke is neither of those things. 

ABOVE PROTECTION is book 1 in the Imperfect Heroes Series. For readers 18+.




From the corner of my eye, I watched Duke leave the kitchen. After I’d put the meat and sauce into a skillet and stirred it, I added the spices. The water began to boil, so I opened the box and pulled out a handful of stiff spaghetti. I broke it over the sink into thirds, then dumped it into the boiling water, adding a few shakes of salt.

I glanced once again at the doorway to the kitchen and saw Duke was long gone. Biting my lip, I reached up into the cabinet and moved the remaining spices aside. I grinned as my fingers wrapped around the bottle of Jim Beam. Chancing a glance once again at the kitchen entryway, I looked back down at the bottle. I slowly twisted off the metal lid and carefully brought the bottle up to my nose and inhaled – which was quickly followed up by a cough.

Whew, that’s potent stuff! Shouldn’t take more than a shot or two to relax me. This guy, this cabin, this whole entire bizarre situation had me on edge. I just needed a little something to take that edge off.

I searched the cabinets but did not find any shot glasses. I poured a small measure into a beveled green glass that looked like it belonged in the 70s. I stared at the amber liquid for a long time before working up the nerve to take a sip.

A sip! my subconscious teased me. Just shoot it, you wuss.

Lifting my shoulder in a shrug, I tossed back the glass, wincing as the bourbon burned its way down my throat, warming my belly. I slammed the glass on the counter and had to ball up my fist to keep from letting out a whoop at the wonderful burn.

The sizzle of the skillet captured my attention, and I stirred the sauce mixture again, turning down the heat as it was beginning to splatter on the outdated yellow gas cooktop – and me.

The whole damn kitchen was outdated. It looked like my grandmother’s growing up. Yellow and brown linoleum floors, sparkly yellow and silver countertops, mustard-colored appliances. I giggled at the absurdity of this kitchen, hell, this whole cabin, and then hiccupped. Slapping a hand over my mouth, I shook my head at my silliness. Yet, I really wanted another shot of that bourbon.

Just one more.

“Just one more,” I said out loud.

Glancing again toward the kitchen entryway and seeing no Duke, I poured another small amount and quickly shot it back, enjoying the burn.

Smiling, I looked at the boiling noodles, realizing I hadn’t set a timer and now had no idea how long they’d been in the water for. The sauce was most certainly done.

Hiccup.

Cheese! I need cheese. I always make cheesy spaghetti. I get compliments on my cheesy spaghetti!

Opening the fridge door, I stared for a good, long minute, trying to remember why I’d opened the fridge. Then I spotted the bag of already-grated cheese.

“Well, thank the lawrd for pre-grated cheese,” I said, okay I think I slurred, in the most exaggerated Southern accent ever. I already had a slight one, or so I’d been told, but now I just flat-out sounded like my grand-mama from Mobile, Alabama. Bless her heart.

Hiccup.

I set the cheese on the counter and poured more bourbon into the ugly-ass green glass. Was this glass or plastic? I tapped my fingernail against it. Glass. I think. Cool. I grinned.

I slammed the liquid back and quickly placed the glass in the sink. No more. I need to stop.

The water continued to boil. Since I was already practically in her kitchen, I remembered Granny’s advice about spaghetti. So with a shrug, I used the spoon to carefully remove a noodle. I inspected it close up, then, with all my might, I chucked it against the wall behind the stove. It did stick, and I smiled in victory. My pasta was good and cooked.

I turned off the burners to both. As I was about to begin to look for a colander to drain the pasta, a voice made me jump.

“What are you doing?”

Blinking in surprise, I cocked my head to the side and smiled. “Cooking.”

“Why are you throwing pasta?” Duke asked, standing at the entryway to the kitchen looking way too delicious.

“Um?” What was I gonna say? Wait, what was the question?

Fuuuuck it. I’ll just ignore him. I picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the sauce. Wait, what was I doing? I need to drain the pasta. Did this kitchen even have a colander?

I didn’t know, so I just stirred the sauce some more. Suddenly, a warm hand gripped my arm, then spun me around. I was met with stormy blue eyes.

I giggled. “Hi, Cowboy.”

He narrowed those beautiful eyes at me. The dark lashes framing them were just too much. “I asked you a question.”

Furrowing my eyebrows, I said, “What was the question?”

I noticed the wooden spoon was still in my hand and was dripping sauce all over the floor. As if in slow motion, I looked at the drips, then the spoon, and without thinking, I brought it up to my mouth. My tongue snaked out and licked the sauce, from the base to the tip of the spoon while I stared unblinking at Duke, waiting for him to tell me what his question had been.

“Holy fuck,” I heard him whisper, his eyes now fixated on my mouth.

I was suddenly acutely aware of how his hard chest was almost pressed against mine. While one hand still held the spoon, the other reached up. My fingertips grazed his rock-hard pec under his T-shirt. My eyes flicked back up to his.

Before I could register what was happening, his mouth crashed down onto mine, his right arm snaking around my waist and then down to my ass, grabbing it with his strong hands, pushing my body into his.

Wait.

Duke was kissing me. What the hell? He’s not supposed to kiss me! He’s a jerk. I don’t like him. I bit his lip – hard. He pulled himself away from me, his thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“You bit me!” he said, incredulous.

“You kissed me!” I replied, as if I had to remind him.

He stared at me dumbfounded for a few seconds, then said, “You were licking… you were ignoring me when I asked… you were giggling… oh, my God. What the hell is that?”

He reached around me and picked up my bottle of bourbon, holding it up. “Where did you get this, Blondie?”

I shrugged and giggled.

Hiccup.

“My spaghetti’s burning,” was all I said.

Turning my back on him once again I began to rummage through the cabinets for something to drain the pasta in. I grinned as I located a colander and placed it in the sink. Before I could pick up the heavy pot of water and noodles, Duke spun me around and pinned me against the countertop. This time, he pressed his hard body into mine, while shoving the booze bottle into my face.

“Where. Did. You. Get. This?” he asked.

Jerking a thumb behind me at the cabinet in which I was now pressed against, I said with a grin, “In there. You want some?”

It didn’t go unnoticed by me that he was pressing a very hard member of his body against my belly. I kinda liked it though, and began to wonder what he was working with under those jeans.

He sighed and pushed off of me, scrubbing a hand over his beard and storming out of the kitchen with my bottle of contraband in his hand.




I'm a California girl living in land-locked Colorado. Lover of red wine, wearer of fabulous shoes, and a die-hard Niner fan, I'm also an editor at heart. I've written over a dozen books and short stories that contain both contemporary/new adult and paranormal romance that are a little bit badass, a little heart-wrenching, and sorta funny (to me, anyway). Almost all my books usually contain law enforcement or military undertones, since strong, brave, alpha men and women are my weaknesses. When I'm not writing, I can be found working at a very strange day job, which may or may not have some mild influences on my gripping stories - so strange, in fact, I think I'll write a book about it one day. 

I'm also a proud member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA).


Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Xpresso Book Tours Presents a Book Blitz for Dodging Trains by Sunniva Dee



Dodging Trains
Sunniva Dee
Publication date: March 29th 2016
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

I was twelve when a stranger at a train station taught me the meaning of ugly. He forced himself on me and threatened to kill my family if I told.

I stayed silent and the ugliness grew.

Now, that word rolls in film clips through my mind. All I’ve done since my best friend, Keyon Arias, left town is cement how ugly I am. Ugly on the inside—deep down to my core. On the outside… I am a Vixen. I flash men a smile and make them moan out pleasure I control.

Not them. Never them.

After five years of being away, my beautiful boy has come back to town for his father’s masquerade ball. He’s different. Hard muscle supersedes the skin and bone of his once boyish frame. One thing hasn’t changed though: the murderous look in his eyes when he slaughters his opponents. In the ring, I see the bullied boy, all grown up, dominating in ways he couldn’t in high school.

He’s the mayor’s son. The rising MMA fighter. The beautiful one.

I’m not the Paislee Cain of before, not the sweet girl he once knew, the one who chased away his bullies. I’m the town slut. The dirty girl whose shame will never fade no matter how many men I use. He’d disown what I’ve become.

Because beautiful can never love ugly.



EXCERPT:

I’ve been on a one-track rail to landing Paislee in my bed since she got off the plane. Not that it’s been planned, but I convinced her that Pizza Pazza in Tampa is better than Mamma Lucia’s in Calceth. I told her about Simon during dinner, one thing led to another, and here I am unlocking the door to my duplex and letting her enter first.

She hasn’t commented on how we took my car from her hotel, how she’s basically dependent on me and my whims. But hey, I’m fucked too; it wasn’t my choice to have someone fill my head, and I didn’t ask that person to come to Florida.

We haven’t talked about tomorrow’s schedule, but I’m going to the rich dude’s house with her. He could be a total freak for all I know, so she’s not facing him alone.

“Oooh,” she whispers through a reverent puff of air like she’s never seen a cat before. Simon’s playing it up too, slinking around the corner with all the grace in the universe, stroking the doorjamb with a hip before he meanders over to us. “He’s soooo beautiful.”

“He’s just a regular old black street cat,” I say, but by the wink she shoots me, she doesn’t buy it. She read me back when too. “’Kay, fine: Simon’s awesome. Straight up the best pelt ever.”

“Pelt? You ass,” she giggles as she pets him from the top of his head and down the length of his body to his tail. Simon lifts it, happy. Any minute now, he’ll crank the volume on his purr-machine.

“Wow, he purrs loud.”

And there. For a cat, he’s being unexpectedly predictable.

“He loves the ladies,” I say, which makes her giggle more. I love to make her giggle. When she stands up again, I pull her in with one arm, fingers splayed across her spine. Firm breasts press against me, and I groan a little.

She puffs another laugh, all Simon’s fault. He’s gotten to the part of the agenda where he’s going to cramp my style. His purrs reach us from the floor, and he’s scissoring in and out between both of our legs.

“Never mind him. Look at me,” I whisper. Let my thumb and forefinger slide over her chin. The amusement recedes from her eyes when she sees that I mean business. I’m hardening. She yelps. Then she laughs out loud.

“Simon, quit it!” I say, exasperated, and bend to unhook his claws from the fabric over her knees. “I’m sorry. You see how it is now, right?
Simon’s the ass in this house. I should sell him to the highest bidder. Fifty cents flat will do. Come to think of it—I’ve got fifty cents in my pocket,” I say, kissing her down the corridor. “I could pay someone to take him. ‘Perfectly good cat with a year’s worth of free cat food.’”

Obviously, I’m digging my own grave here. There’s no hot lovemaking when your girl’s laughing so hard she’s about to pee herself.



Author Bio:

Between studies, teaching, and advising, Sunniva has spent her entire adult life in a college environment. Most of her novels are new adult romance geared toward smart, passionate readers with a love for eclectic language and engaging their brain as well as their heart while reading.

Born in the Land of the Midnight Sun, the author spent her early twenties making the world her playground. Southern Europe: Spain, Italy, Greece--Argentina: Buenos Aires, in particular. The United States finally kept her interest, and after half a decade in Los Angeles, she now lounges in the beautiful city of Savannah.

Sometimes, Sunniva writes with a paranormal twist (Shattering Halos, Stargazer, and Cat Love). At other times, it's contemporary (Pandora Wild Child, Leon's Way, Adrenaline Crush, Walking Heartbreak, and Dodging Trains, coming in late March 2016).

This author is the happiest when her characters let their emotions run off with them, shaping her stories in ways she never foresaw. She loves bad-boys and good-boys run amok, and like in real life, her goal is to keep the reader on her toes until the end of each story.


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