Laura Drake is an author. She writes bestselling paranormal romances that continue to top the charts. She is sharp. She is confident. She is in control.
And she doesn’t exist.
Samantha Jansen is the woman behind the wig, the woman most of the world doesn’t know exists. She is shy. She is insecure. She is nothing like her main character or her alter ego. She is scarred—deeply scarred—by a past she can’t let go of and a present she can’t make peace with.
Samantha’s dreams are consumed by one man, the broken hero from her books. Mason Strait is both her wildest fantasy and her most terrifying nightmare.
When Samantha meets Alec Brand, a corporate consultant, it is as though Mason has come to life. Alec is handsome to a fault, as elegant as he is arrogant, and more intense than any man has a right to be.
Samantha is soon sucked into a world that mirrors the fiction she writes. Just like her main character, Daire Kirby, Samantha finds herself unable to resist the forbidden lure of Alec. And just like Daire, she also finds that she is faced with taking a chance on a man who could either set her free or destroy her.
The scale tilts toward destruction when Samantha finds out that Alec is as much a work of fiction as Mason. And he has scars of his own, scars that could ruin them both.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author, M. Leighton, is a native of Ohio. She relocated to the warmer climates of the South, where she can be near the water all summer and miss the snow all winter. Possessed of an overactive imagination from early in her childhood, Michelle finally found an acceptable outlet for her fantastical visions: literary fiction. Having written over a dozen novels, these days Michelle enjoys letting her mind wander to more romantic settings with sexy Southern guys, much like the one she married and the ones you’ll find in her latest books. When her thoughts aren’t roaming in that direction, she’ll be riding wild horses, skiing the slopes of Aspen or scuba diving with a hot rock star, all without leaving the cozy comfort of her office.
After finding her sister in bed with her fiancé, 25-year old Lexie Wilkins decides to relocate to southwest Florida to start a new life and escape relationships all together. What she doesn’t expect to find are two attractive kite surfers, who both want her.
So much for Lexie’s vow for her fresh start in Florida: a no wake zone. Having two guys in her life is sure to make waves.
Eddie is the captivating bad boy, who lives next door. Daniel is Lexie’s sweet and ruggedly handsome co-worker. The differences between the two men are just as extreme as their sport…
Who will she choose?
Then I heard a pounding on the front door, which I had left propped open.
“Is anyone home?” called out a male voice.
I went over to the door and opened it fully. I could feel my mouth drop open when I saw the guy standing at my threshold. He was bare-chested, wearing just swim trucks and flip flops. And, oh what a wonderful chest it was, six-packed and bronzed from the sun. The guy was about six feet tall; muscular and toned. When I could finally steal my gaze from his magnificent physique, I looked into smoldering brown eyes and my breath was momentarily stolen from my body. His dark hair was messy and damp. That’s when I noticed he also had a bit of sand on his broad shoulders. I guessed he was one of the surfer boys, as Hans called them, who lived next door.
The gorgeous guy gave me a titled half smile that showed off a sexy dimple in his cheek. The man was clearly the whole package and he definitely knew it. He carried himself like he owned the world. He could easily own any girl with the dimple alone.
Any girl, except me, of course.
It would be a very long time before I was interested in any involvement with the opposite sex. My heart was still broken into a million little pieces from my messy break-up with Jeff.
“Just move in?” Mr. Whole Package said.
“Is it that obvious?” I quipped.
“The moving truck out front kind of gave it away,” he said. He held out a hand. “I’m Eddie. I live next door.”
I stared at his hand for a second, wondering how rude it would look if I didn’t shake it. A big part of me was scared to even touch him. Finally, I just thought fuck it and grabbed his hand.
Oh, God. What a HUGE mistake.
Why hadn’t I listened to my inner, obviously much smarter voice, which warned me not to touch him? His grip was firm and his hands were rougher than I had imagined they would be; but what got me were his eyes. As he held my hand, I was captivated by the intensity of his fiery stare. I nearly drowned in the cascade of shivers that flooded my body.
Eddie had game and knew exactly how to use it. Shit.
“I’m Lexie,” I said as I quickly removed my hand from his grasp.
He arched an eyebrow. “Short for something?”
I smiled. “Well, I’ve got a lot of work to do.” I wanted him to leave. He was making me nervous. He was making me feel things I didn’t want to feel. A lot of things I didn’t want to feel. All the things I was trying to escape by moving to Florida.
“Need help carrying in the rest of your stuff?” he offered. It was tempting, but it also meant spending more time with him, which might put us near the danger zone.
When I moved to Florida, I decided that I would put up an invisible sign: Slow No Wake. I didn’t want any waves or any drama. I had had enough of that in Illinois. Men usually caused waves and Eddie definitely seemed like the heavy wake kind of guy. I needed him gone as quickly as possible. I had a foot in dangerous waters and I didn’t want to get swept up in the tide.
“Hans said he would give me a hand with the furniture,” I said.
Eddie leaned in very close, like he was going to tell me a secret. I could feel his breath on my neck and it made me shiver a bit. What was that I had just said about the no wake zone? Eddie was already causing a lot of waves. “I would watch out for Hans,” he whispered. “He’s kind of a perv.”
Hans did not seem like a perv to me but I hadn’t spent much time with him. “He’s old enough to be my father,” I said with a bit of skepticism in my voice.
Eddie shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He turned away from me. “But have you seen his girlfriend yet? She’s at least five years younger than us.”
“Wait,” I said.
Eddie turned around and grinned at me. “Change your mind?”
Eddie rested his arm on the doorframe right above me and leaned in close. He smelled like suntan oil with a hint of saltwater and sweat. “I’m happy to help you in any way I can. All you have to do is ask.”
His words were laced with so much innuendo and sexuality, I found it difficult to swallow. “Thanks,” was all I was able to mutter.
Then he turned and headed for the truck. I followed and in that moment, I felt like I would have followed him anywhere.
Dakota Madison has been writing since she learned to read and fell in love with books. When she’s not at her computer creating spicy new romances, Dakota is traveling to exotic locales or spending time with her husband and their bloodhounds.
Seventeen-year-old Kari meets Neil Mars. “Neil as in Armstrong and Mars…as in Bruno.” A boy who beats every vampire, werewolf, highlander fantasy Kari has ever had. But she knows can’t get close to him. Not ever. Because that would mean telling him everything. Coming clean. And Kari can’t bear the idea of changing the way Neil looks at her. Like she’s the only girl in the world. His reverence is something too precious to lose. Perhaps even at the cost of losing him.
But Kari doesn’t know why Neil calls her his ‘Angel’ and when she finds out, she realizes what love is all about. Boundless joy, unending longing and a fuckload of heartache.
“I can take care of myself,” I tell him.
His lips twitch in response. “Oh, I’m sure you can, little shrub.”
“You are warned!” I take my voice down a notch and point my ring at him, “I’ll tunnel your leathery knighthood right out of this galaxy!”
Neil suddenly halts in his tracks and pins me down with eyes. “Batman vs. Green Lantern? Batman wins. Every. Single. Time.”
“Ohmygod! So not true. In the…”
He cuts me. “One word…yellow.” I stare at him with my mouth half-open.
“‘Nuff said,” he says smugly and then tugs on my hand.
Maybe I’ll forget this feeling someday. Maybe it’ll just be reduced to a memory made up of a flickering gas heater, the salty dew of his skin and the love in his dark, inky eyes. This feeling of pure unadulterated joy. Of reaching a high so potent that your spirit feels like it’s soaring across the universe…and falling from that glorious peak only to find yourself enveloped in someone’s warm caring hands. When you feel like you’ve just died or been born, right at the same time.
It could be that I’ll forget this feeling someday. But I’m sure it won’t be anytime soon. Maybe when I’m a hundred and looking forward to my lunch of mashed bread. Not one single day before.
Rucy Ban was born in 1978 and still continues to thrive. Ever since she first met Francine (the protagonist of her favorite novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn), Rucy fell in love with the written word. Rucy has a B-school degree in Marketing which she now puts to good use teaching lovable rowdy rogues and negotiating with her equally belligerent adolescent. In her previous avatar, she handled corporate communications for companies. At present, Rucy lives in Sao Paulo, travels often, speaks decent, if not quite fluent, Portuguese and really hates talking about herself in third person.
The author is giving away an ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) of All My Life and $35 Paypal credit. Just click the ‘copter link below to enter to win 🙂
OK y’all I love this book and am soooo stoked to be a part of this AToMR Tours-sponsored blog tour. Today, I have my review and an awesome giveaway or two for you! If you would like to check out the rest of the stops on the tour just click here 🙂
When Jocelyn Weatherford is whisked away from a preparatory academy in upstate New York to live with her extended family in New Orleans, she is unprepared to encounter the dangers awaiting her. Yet even as she is thrust into an unfamiliar world of witches and voodoo magic, the greatest threat of all may be the boy she has fallen for.
While handsome and charming, he is also a Caldwell… a member of the family the Weatherford’s have been feuding with for centuries. As their forbidden love grows it becomes the volatile spark that forever changes their world and everyone in it.
Jocelyn Weatherford is exactly like her classmates: she is a member of a privileged family; she attends a private preparatory academy and; only sees her mother on school holidays. For Jocelyn every day is the same: get up, go to class, do her homework, break some rules with her friends. This is the life Jocelyn knows and is accustomed too; unfortunately, it is a complete and utter lie.
Everything, and I do mean everything, changes for Jocelyn the day she looks down and discovers a horrifying scar on her arm. WTH?? Jocelyn is never, and I do mean never sick or hurt so the presence of such a wound is as shocking as it is painful. Though she has never been to the nurse’s office, Jocelyn heads there in order to have the scar attended to. Next thing Jocelyn knows, she’s packing her clothes and on a plane, with the nurse, to New Orleans where she will take up residence with her extended family. What? She has family other than her mother?? Oh, and by the way: you are a witch, your entire extended family constitutes a long, long line of powerful witches and; your family would be the mortal enemies of the Caldwell family another long, long line of powerful witches. Yeah, like Jocelyn is going to believe all that crap!
Some people just take a little convincing and Jocelyn’s journey to belief begins the moment she touches down in New Orleans. She is greeted by her aunt Lizzy, mother to Jocelyn’s five(!) cousins and a surly and rather creepily intuitive maid by the name of Mabelle who hands her a shopping list of supplies she will need for her first day of school. Unable to sleep despite her exhaustion, Jocelyn sets out to acquire her supplies and immediately runs into Jameson, arguably the most beautiful boy she has ever encountered. After briefly introducing themselves and deducing they have similar shopping lists, the two decide to shop together as Jameson is far more familiar with the city than Jocelyn. With the exception of a few minor missteps, being declared fated lovers by the universe (that’s a fun scene!), and discovering the boy she is interested in is none other than a crappin’ Caldwell, the day goes pretty well.
Not completely understanding the rules of the game, Jocelyn approaches Jameson on their first day of school much to everyone’s horror! It becomes clear to Jocelyn that the whole mortal enemy thing is real and her cousins and the Caldwell’s are all kinds of serious about keeping her and Jameson separated. Both sides begin casting spells aimed at annoying and hurting the others despite knowing their world is meant to be kept a secret from those non-magical (hee hee, Muggles!) beings around them. Adding insult to injury or fuel to the fire (whichever you prefer), Jocelyn is placed among the Caldwell’s and completely isolated from the protection of her cousins at their weekly magical lessons. It is at one of these lessons that everyone discovers the lengths to which Jameson is willing to go to protect Jocelyn. From this moment forward everything in Jocelyn and Jameson’s world is irrevocably altered.
Though Jocelyn and Jameson are powerfully drawn to one another, they are hindered at every turn by their families and their family’s history with one another. For the most part, Jocelyn and Jameson have to sneak around when they can in order to see one another. Jocelyn is learning to tap into her own power, the very rare art of healing, and with Jameson, she can enhance and amplify her power thus allowing her to heal more people and for longer periods of time. One night Jameson takes Jocelyn to a remote village where her skills are put to the test and she comes face-to-face with the dark side of the world she now occupies. She also discovers her powers may run deeper than anyone initially suspected.
After the night on the bayou Jocelyn and Jameson’s story begins to take so many twists and turns that it will keep you turning pages like a fiend. There are interactions with one another both negative and positive, interactions with their respective families both positive and negative, and a near-constant stream of secret-revealing. (OH! I love secret-revealing!) Both try to hold on for the ride as best they can but there is a long and powerful history meant to keep them apart. That history is one of the most interesting secrets revealed and is a strong enough bit of information that it even draws Jocelyn’s mother to town! Now she is a mighty and powerful surprise and what she has to tell everyone will knock your socks off!!
The Bottom Line: Holy balls this book is good and there are several things that contribute to this outburst. Foremost on the list of awesome are the characters: Jocelyn and Jameson are both solid and compassionate characters who are drawn into a world of madness, lies, witchcraft, and voodoo. They are torn between their attraction to one another and their loyalties to their respective families. Backing these two are a whole slew of other characters I sincerely hope get more press time in future installments of the series; there are some wicked fun personalities among the Caldwell’s and the Weatherford’s and they need to be allowed to come out and play 🙂
The plot line also makes me squeak a little: though I like the idea of fated lovers I like it a whole hell of a lot more that Faulty has kept this aspect of the plot subdued for the time being. I know Jocelyn and Jameson are meant to be together and eventually they will be but Falter has wisely chosen to allow these two time to get to know one another rather than falling into the now way over-used insta-love trap. By doing this, Falter has also allowed the deeper and richer plot line of the on-going (or is it?) Caldwell/Weatherford feud to take center stage. This is how it should be!! It is made clear in several instances how long this feud has been raging and the toll it has taken on both families so it therefore makes sense that Falter should (and does!) dedicate the bulk of the book to this topic. Appropriately, Jocelyn and Jameson are woven into and not allowed to overshadow the larger plot line. Well done Laury Falter, well done.
Essentially what you get with Residue is a well-written and well-planned novel that reads smoothly and easily from cover to cover. I am comfortable recommending this title to all YA+ readers.
Laury Falter is the author of the bestselling Guardian Trilogy. She writes young adult paranormal romances and urban fantasy when she’s not taking her stray dogs for a walk or enjoying a date night with her husband. Laury has released two series, the Guardian Trilogy and the Residue Series (a spinoff of the Guardian Trilogy books), and is currently releasing her third series, the Apocalypse Chronicles.
Giveaway #1: Three (3) signed copies of Residue; US only
Giveaway #2: Eight (8) ecopies of Residue: Mobi or Nook only; gifted from Amazon or B&N; open internationally
When Maddy graduated from Columbia University, she was ready to change the world. She’d get a job at Newsline, meet a nice guy, and live happily ever after with a real designer handbag on her arm. Five years later, she’s stuck producing puff pieces for News 9 San Diego–where “if it bleeds, it leads.” She’s still single, her family’s falling apart, and so is her knock-off Kate Spade.
Then Jamie Hayes walks through her newsroom door. The former filmmaker is everything Maddy has ever dreamed of. Creative, smart, sweet—and with eyes that could make a girl melt. The perfect guy…but perfectly unavailable. And the more Maddy tries to stay away—the further she starts to fall.
Now a secret scoop from her favorite knock-off purse guy has Maddy chasing a lead that could make her career. Or destroy it forever. How far is she willing to go to broadcast the truth? And will this breaking news lead to a happily ever after…or a broken heart?
Stay tuned…it’s the story of a lifetime.
Argh, my head.
My head really, really hurt.
And I was dying of thirst.
I pulled the blankets over my head to block the rays of strong San Diego sun from blasting my sensitive morning eyes. What time was it? Why was I naked?
A flashback of memory—a snapshot of my body on autopilot—hit me like a rock dropped from ten stories up.
The last thing I remembered clearly was leaving Moondoggies. With Jamie. Getting refused at the next club. With Jamie. Going back to my apartment.
The rest was blurry. But what I did remember was truly horrifying. Blasting ’80s music from my stereo. Mixing up margaritas (like I needed more alcohol!) in my blender. Jumping on my bed, singing and dancing like a idiot to Simple Minds.
Making out with Jamie like there was no tomorrow.
I slowly rolled over to face the other side of the bed. To confirm my worst fear. Was there another body in my bed?
Not just any body, either. But a sexy, rumpled, naked, sound asleep, Jamie body in my bed.
I groaned. How could I have been such an idiot? Gotten so drunk I didn’t even remember having sex with the guy? That was so bad. So alcoholically bad. On about a million and three levels:
a) Having sex and not remembering it.
b) Having sex and not remembering it with a guy I barely knew.
c) Having sex and not remembering it with a guy I barely knew who happened to have a fiancée he was going to marry in three months.
d) Having sex and not remembering it with a guy I barely knew who happened to have a fiancée he was going to marry in three months and that I had to work with day in and day out for the foreseeable future.
Now what should I do? Did I snuggle up next to him and pretend I had planned the seduction? Get the hell out of bed and pretend I’d slept on the couch, hoping he didn’t remember, either? Make breakfast? Leave the country and open up shop as a WWJD bracelet maker in Tijuana?
Hmm. Speaking of, what would Jesus do in a case like this? No, bad question. He wouldn’t have gotten himself in this mess to begin with.
I noticed with some relief a ripped open condom package on my nightstand. One of the ones Jodi had stuffed in a drawer one time “just in case.” Thank god, even in my drunken blackout I’d still had the wherewithal to be safe.
I tried to crawl out of bed, but at that moment the sleeping Jamie rolled over, tossing a heavy arm over my body and pulling me closer so I was spooned against him. I was stuck. Extremely comfortable, but stuck.
I felt his hot breath warm my skin and tried to think back to the night before. Damn it, why couldn’t I remember the hot sex I’m sure we must have had? I bet it was incredible. He was incredible. Not that I should be thinking about that. After all, he was taken. And not just kind-of taken, but wedding-invitations-and-white-dress taken.
Oh my god, I was the other woman.
How ironic that I’d been out mourning the fact that my father had cheated on my mother and had inadvertently helped some other guy cheat on his fiancée. And not just any other guy, but my new coworker! How was I supposed to work with him now? Would I have to go into Richard’s office and beg for a new photographer to combat the awkward morning-after syndrome?
Mari Mancusi used to wish she could become a vampire back in high school. But she ended up in another blood sucking profession –journalism — instead. Today she works as a freelance TV producer and author of books for teens and adults. When not writing about creatures of the night, Mari enjoys traveling, cooking, goth clubbing, watching cheesy horror movies, and her favorite guilty pleasure–videogames. A graduate of Boston University and a two time Emmy Award winner, she lives in Austin, Texas with her husband Jacob, daughter Avalon and dog Mesquite.
I grab her exploring finger just as it reaches my happy trail—a trail that if I let her wander down further will lead us to do things we can’t take back. Things like three-word phrases being confessed that would end me if I was rejected. Things like selfishly wanting to own her body and doing things to her that would make my fantasies blush. And things like making her promises too soon that won’t do either of us any good. She makes me want a future that’s not possible, and one I don’t deserve.
Listening to my ego got me into this situation. Will listening to my heart get me out?
S.L. Scott has a degree in Journalism and is the author of the novels—Naturally, Charlie, and A Prior Engagement as well as several novellas, including Sleeping with Mr. Sexy and Morning Glory–all currently available on Amazon. Pursuing her passion for telling stories, she spends her days escaping into her characters, letting them lead her on their adventures. She is a Contributor to Huffington Post and writes for her own blog along with several other popular sites.
Travelling, music festivals, and surfing are a few of the hobbies she loves, but she doesn’t get to enjoy on a regular basis. She has an obsession with movies, a varied taste in books, and collects Fitz & Floyd teapots. With a memory full of useless trivia facts, and a Keurig addiction, she loves a fun night in with her family as much as a loud night out with her friends.
Scott lives in the lively city of Austin with her husband, two young sons, and two Papillons, enjoying life in the beautiful hill country of Texas.
She welcomes your notes at email@example.com.
Hello everyone and welcome to my stop on the AToMR Tours-sponsored tour for The Space Between by Victoria H. Smith. If you would like to follow the rest of the tour just click here and check out what the other bloggers have for you!
When Drake started the night at his father’s campaign fundraiser, he never imagined he’d end it being conned into buying drugs on the West Side. Losing high-stakes poker has its consequences, but he’d repeatedly face them just to hear Lacey Douglas sing. Drake sees Lacey light up the stage, and he has to have her. But his intentions for being on her side of town turn out to be the reason he can’t.
Chicago native Lacey has dreams of the opera, but life has its obstacles. Lacey has come to know her hardships as part of living in the real world and accepts them fully. When Lacey meets the intense and invigorating Drake, a fire is lit inside her, unleashing those dreams again.
Two paths that should have never crossed prove to create the exact pairing the other needs. But when their worlds take time to catch up, everything they have is tested. Finding the space between the two sides that challenge them will be hard, but it’s the only place that will keep them together.
The Space Between is a new adult contemporary romance.
Pushing me into the woman’s restroom, he locked the door, and leaned his long body against the length of mine.
“Drake.” I gasped against his lips, viciously running my fingers through his dark locks. “There’s probably people in here.”
He pressed me up against the bathroom wall, his hands roaming wherever he saw fit along the curves of my hips. “No, there isn’t. I checked.”
Oh, wow. He checked?
Dropping low, he grabbed my thighs and wrapped them around his waist. In a flash, he had me on the counter by the sinks. After dragging me to the edge of it by my ass, he moved on to pushing my dress up with quick but fumbling hands.
My senses coming to me, I grabbed his hands. “Drake, should we do this in here?”
When he stopped kissing me, his eyes met mine. The mahogany hue was dark, his eyes lidded and feral. His lust for me leaving me breathless, I grabbed his cheeks and attacked his mouth before he could say anything.
“I take it this location isn’t a problem?” He spoke into our kiss.
“Shut up,” I said, before I could change my mind.
He got my dress all the way up and above my tummy. His fingers went for my panties next, looping around the thin material on the side. When he braced them and gave a swift tug, I locked up and nearly shouted at him.
I grabbed his bicep. “Don’t rip them. Don’t rip them. Don’t rip them.”
He pulled back, eyes wide and wandering in confusion. “What?”
“I said, don’t rip them. I just got them from Victoria’s Secret. That place is expensive, you know?” I smacked at his hand until he let go.
He looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted. “Are you serious? Lace, I’ll buy you some new panties.”
“I’d rather keep these, thank you.” Hopping off the sink, I shimmied until the lace went down my thighs.
He stood there, arms crossed with his fingers to his lips as he suppressed a smile.
Ignoring him, I stepped out of them daintily, then handed them to him.
Without words, he put them in his pocket. “Okay. Are we good now?”
Shaking my head, I snatched his belt buckle and kissed his lips while I unfastened it.
Victoria H. Smith has a Bachelor’s Degree in Political Science. She puts it to good use writing romance all day. She resides in the Midwest with her Macbook on her lap and a cornfield to her right. She often draws inspiration for her stories from her own life experiences, and the twenty-something characters she writes give her an earful about it. In her free time, she enjoys extreme couponing, blogging, reading, and sending off a few tweets on Twitter when she can. She writes new adult fiction romance in the sub-genres of science fiction, urban fantasy, and contemporary, but really, anywhere her pen takes her she goes.