A Hero’s Haven: Resolution Ranch by Tessa Layne 💕 Book Blitz & Signed Book Giveaway 💕(Military Romance)

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Former Navy SEAL Cash Aiken assumed he could leave behind the trauma of war and settle into life as a bodyguard. Why not? He was big, smart, and nothing ever got past his eagle eye. But a split second of inattention nearly cost the life of his asset, and cost him his job. When his old buddy Travis Kincaid invites him to come work at Resolution Ranch, an organization helping wounded vets, he clings to the lifeline and hopes it’s a chance to start over. But Cash is stunned to discover that the beautiful woman he nearly let die is hiding out at the ranch, masquerading as a stable hand.

Country Music’s Superdiva, Kaycee Starr, is done with the music biz. After a terrifying encounter with a crazed fan, she goes underground and answers a help-wanted ad in a place the paparazzi would never think to look. Prairie, Kansas. While she finds solace and healing among the horses, handsome ranch hand Cash Aiken lights her up in ways she only wrote about in songs. He’s the only person she’s met who seems to ‘get’ her.

Cash and Kaycee fall hard and fast for each other, but when their secrets are exposed, will they have the courage to trust each other? And more importantly, themselves?

He checked his watch and rapped a knuckle on the door. “Ms. Starr? It’s time for me to escort you to the green room.”
The door flew open, startling him. Not from the speed at which she answered, but from the fact that she looked like a unicorn had vomited sparkles from the crown of her white spangled cowboy hat, down the white iridescent guitar, to the tips of her rhinestone boots. It must have shown on his face, because she laughed, a warm husky sound that slid underneath his professional shell and flipped his stomach. “I look pretty funny, huh?”
He coughed, smothering a laugh. “Not even a Vegas strip club has that much glitter.”
Her eyes grew round and worried. “I don’t look like a stripper, do I?”
This time he couldn’t cover the laugh. God, he hoped Ace wasn’t watching right now. “Not remotely.”
“Whew. My momma already thinks my career is scandalous. I’d hate to give her a heart attack over my costume.”
She was too damned charming. Adorable. And there was something about Kaycee’s soft-spoken barely-there twang that intrigued him. Made him want to listen to her talk all night. “You look… like a country star,” he finished lamely. He’d nearly called her beautiful. Which wasn’t right, not with the cartoonish makeup and costume. Nor was it professional, but the words had popped into his head.
She laid a hand on his arm. “Tell me your name?” she asked in that sweet husky lilt.
His name rose to his tongue, followed by a vision of Ace glowering. Was this a test? He wouldn’t put it past Ace to test him, see if he’d slip. Brushing aside a wave of annoyance, he gazed into her eyes. “Deuce. The name’s Deuce.”
“Deuce,” she said slowly, adding two syllables to the name as she drew it out. “Y’all like your card names, don’tcha? Y’all play five-card stud when you’re off duty?” He swallowed, mouth going dry at the way she lingered over the word stud. What in the hell was happening to him?
She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Well, Deuce in the fancy suit, I wanted to thank you.”
In spite of the glitter, he felt himself getting pulled under by her big green eyes. “What for?”
“If it hadn’t been for you, a lot of little girls and their mommas would be really upset. You went above and beyond, and I appreciate it.”
Her praise went straight to his belly like a shot of whiskey. “Let’s go,” he answered gruffly. What else could he say? She was a client, and he’d move onto the next assignment as soon as her stalker was caught. But that knowledge didn’t stop him from appreciating her gorgeous ass as she sashayed down the hall in front of him.

   

Accidental Tryst by Natasha Boyd 💕 Book Blitz & Google Mini Giveaway 💕 (Romantic Comedy)

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A new standalone seriously (steamy) romantic comedy! Meet Trystan Montgomery. Suit monkey, commitment-phobic serial dater. No more than three dates, unless he hasn't ... you know.

Emmy:
What a disaster! I only just made my flight to New York to help my uncle, and the phone I’m holding is not mine! It seems to belong to some commitment-phobic serial dater who’s never made it past four dates (according to the constant notifications he's getting from his fake dating profile...) And worse? I have a sinking feeling it’s that hot suit-monkey with the arctic grey eyes I just had a run-in with at the airport. Somehow I have to persuade him not to get a new phone until I get back. My whole life is on that phone. It’s only a few days. Surely we can handle it.

Trystan :
This is a joke, right? My life could not get more f*cked up. I’m in the middle of selling my company and on my way to a funeral and that hot mess hippie-chick stole my freaking phone. I’m not sure how she convinced me not to immediately walk into a smart phone store and get a new one, but now she’s going to have to play stand in and distract me while I deal with my long-avoided and estranged family. I don’t have my dating apps after all, and frankly she’s pretty funny. And sexy. And why can’t I stop texting her? And now we’re talking. And … look, I’ll admit that I usually run for the hills the morning after, but the morning after phone sex? That’s not really real, right?

ACCIDENTAL TRYST by Natasha Boyd © 2018

EMMY:


This was an emergency. I dialed again. Straight to voicemail. I dialed again.
And again.
And again.
"What?" Trystan's voice barked.
"Oh, hi. This is—"
"Emmy, I know."
"Oh." I swallowed quickly while I gathered my scattered thoughts and recovered from his abrupt tone. "Um."
"What do you want?" he snapped.
Oh my God. Was this guy for real? "For you not to act like an asshole for a start."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I phoned you bec—"
"Seven times. You called seven times."
"And you ignored it seven times!"
"Because I'm in the middle of something."
"And I'm in the middle of nowhere with a suitcase and no information about where I'm staying tonight. You know why?" I ploughed on. "Because some asshole took my phone." He hissed but I talked right over it. "And now said asshole won't even answer it to help me figure out where I am supposed to sleep for the night. This ... is ... an ... emergency," I enunciated. My heart beat in my ears, my hands shook, and my face throbbed. All the tears I'd only recently been able to stuff back inside me came back rising like a tide, and I was mortified to realize my voice had begun wobbling on the last word.
There was silence and a muffled expletive on the other end and then nothing.
I frowned and pulled the phone from my ear. Did he ...?
"Ugh!" I squealed loudly, almost throwing his phone to the sidewalk in despair and swiping the tears off my cheeks. He'd hung up on me. I couldn't believe this day.

Did you seriously just hang up on me?

Suit Monkey: Keep your bloody knickers on. Information headed your way in a bit.

I blew out a breath. Thank you, I guess.

How long is this going to take you? I texted again. I'm standing on a street corner with my suitcase. Someone's going to think I'm a hooker looking for a commitment.

Suit Monkey: Just give me a fucking minute to locate it amongst all your junk mail from Cats R Us and Sewing Monthly. Jesus, you have a lot of shit in your inbox. How do you find anything?

I use the search bar, Genius.

Suit Monkey: But, whyyyyyyy do you subscribe to these things?

I rolled my eyes, and a grin tugged at my mouth even though I was irritated with him.

Suit Monkey: Never mind. Don't tell me.
Suit Monkey: Are you aware you have over 10,000 unread emails. You are a mess. HOW DO YOU LIVE?

I clean them out periodically.

Suit Monkey: Are we talking periods like Ice Age to Information Age?
Suit Monkey: Is there anything else you need because I had a shitty day that won't be over for some time, and I can't be at your beck and call. And for the record, everything about you screams commitment.

My grin evaporated. Letting out a squeak of frustration, I gritted my teeth and hammered my message out with angry fingertips.

Yes, actually. I NEED you to stop being so mean. I've also had a pretty shitty day. And your phone is literally the only thing I have to try and navigate my life right now. So please give me a tiny break. Forward the info to your inbox please.

Suit Monkey: Fine. Try not to read the rest of my email. It's confidential.

Don't worry. I'm not interested in your self-importance. What did he do for a living that made him feel like he was king of the universe, anyway?

Suit Monkey: And just text me if you need something. Don't psycho-call me seven times straight.

At least my first instincts about him at the airport had been correct. What a tool.

Then you should answer your texts, and I won't have to.

   

Crowd Pleaser by Marie James 💕 Cover Reveal & eBook Giveaway 💕 (Erotic Romance)

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You know those love stories you read about? The ones where the heroine remains untouched, virgin-like, until she meets the man of her dreams?

The stories where she's always in the shadows, always on the outside, no one knowing her name until she meets her one and only? A shy glance across the room at her first ever college party captivates the man she'll soon fall in love with?

This story isn't that.

In this story, everyone who's anyone has seen the heaviness of her tits. They've all heard the soft moan she makes when a man slides inside. They've all heard her whimpers, heard her begging for more.

Her name is Randi Simms.

And she’s a Crowd Pleaser.

Fate's Vultures by Jami Gray 💕 Series Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕(Dystopian Romantic Suspense)

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In a world gone to hell, it's hard to tell the good guys from the bad... The world didn't end in fire and explosions, instead it collapsed slowly, like falling dominoes, an intensifying panic of disease, food shortages, wild weather and collapsing economies, until what remained of humanity battles for survival in a harsh new reality. Charity uses lethal survival skills learned too early in her work as a 'Hound, sniffing out pivotal secrets for one of the most powerful people on the west coast. Her work is deceptive, deadly, and best performed solo, which means when she has a run-in with a member of the notorious Fate's Vultures, she has no intention of joining forces in some mockery of teamwork. The man might be sexy as hell, but she travels alone. She will accomplish her mission and she will settle a score - hopefully with the edge of her blade. But fate has other plans. As one of Fate’s Vultures, a nomadic band of arbitrators known for their ruthless verdicts, Ruin witnesses the carnage of corruption and greed battering the remnants of humanity, and he bears the scars to prove it. Now he has a damn 'Hound showing up in suspicious circumstances, leaving every cell of his body sceptical - and painfully aroused. The woman is trouble, and Ruin has every intention of steering clear. But when they realise they have a common enemy, Charity and Ruin will have to set aside their distrust if they want to achieve their mutual goal - justice and revenge. Sometimes, when the world's gone to hell, it's better to stick with the devil you know... ‘How good is your crazy?’ He canted his head and took a moment to replay her question. ‘Come again?’ Those full lips twitched, causing his cock to do the same. ‘Time to let your crazy fly, Ruin.’ A light touch on the reins brought his horse to a stop. Charity’s paint took another step or two before doing the same. She twisted in her saddle to face him, dark mischief dancing in those electric blue eyes. ‘You and Boden seem certain the Raiders were leading Simon into a trap. Add in the fact we’re tracking them deeper in the mountains, I’m thinking we’re about to be outnumbered.’ Slim shoulders rose in a delicate shrug under the battered leather jacket. ‘Why go in hard, when we can go in soft?’ ‘I’m listening.’ He touched his heels into his horse, nudging it forward. She held his gaze as he came up beside her. ‘This Cammon place, how many people know about it?’ ‘Long-timers mainly, those who’ve been out here for years.’ And obviously others if his guess was right. ‘So if one of those long-timers happened to be a trapper calling it home, no surprise, right?’ Her paint held steady as he crowded close. He filled in the blanks even as he caught a flash of heated awareness in her gaze before she doused it. Deep inside, under his wiseass persona, the hunter smiled in anticipation. God how he loved a challenge wrapped in a puzzle. ‘Crazy ass loner comes back from a hunt, his woman in tow, only to stumble upon uninvited guests.’ She shifted in her saddle, touched the tip of a finger to her nose and tapped twice. Hmm, it might work. ‘Guns or blades, you think?’ A question he hadn’t asked her earlier, too caught up in tracking Simon. Since she was there when the Raiders attacked, she might have an idea of their weapons. ‘Might be both.’ His gaze went to the gun strapped to her thigh. ‘You any good with that?’ Feminine arrogance straightened her spine, and her hand brushed lovingly over the weapon. The real woman peeked out behind the alluring mask. ‘Want to play target?’ It was a dangerous purr, but he liked it. ‘I’ll even give you a head’s start.’ Ignoring the invitation, he raised an eyebrow. ‘Confusion will only work for a few minutes at most before they decide we’re not worth the hassle.’ Unflinching cunning and intelligence met his gaze. ‘Long enough to even out the numbers if need be.’ She leant in, her hand a hot brand as she braced it on his thigh near his knives. ‘Then you can bring these boys out to play.’ Despite the temptation she presented, he locked her wrist in his grip even as her fingers brushed against the leather holding one of his blades. Dust and sweat couldn’t drown out the delicate spice of her scent. Using his free hand, he captured her chin and dipped his head, their lips a breath apart. ‘No touching.’ She didn’t fight his hold or jerk back. Instead she held his gaze. Heat and awareness darkened those bright eyes, but she remained still, waiting, watching. A curious tension sang between them, one that left him cautious despite the expected lust rising hard and rough. He couldn’t remember the last time he got hot and sweaty between the sheets. This wasn’t the time, and she sure as hell wasn’t the right woman, but … Giving into temptation, he brushed his lips over hers, just once. Her breath hitched, then she retreated, leaning back. He let her go, the warmth of her lips lingering against his. He watched her resettle in the saddle, his voice a rough rasp as he brought their conversation back on track. ‘You got anything against getting dirty?’ Surprisingly, a red stain rode under her gold skin, but she lost none of her edge. ‘How dirty?’

Choosing a side has never been so dangerous… The world didn’t end in fire and explosions, instead it collapsed slowly, like falling dominoes, an intensifying panic of disease, food shortages, wild weather and collapsing economies, until what remains of humanity battles for survival in a harsh new reality. An assassin by trade, a loner by nature, Mercy is sent to infiltrate the Cartels and unmask the identity of their new silent partner. Instead, she discovers a darker plan threatening to crumble the entire Southwest and ends up with a hefty bounty on her head. Still, she’s determined to stop the impending attack at any cost, even if it means partnering up with a member of the notorious Fate’s Vultures. After enduring a brutal, blood-soaked lesson on the savagery of civilisation’s scavengers, Havoc is well acquainted with the consequences of battling predators. But as a member of the nomadic band of arbitrators known as Fate’s Vultures, he’s determined to cement the necessary alliances to oust the biggest threat looming on the horizon. When an enigmatic woman crosses his path, her secrets and troubling loyalty light the fuse on an unexpected craving and his insatiable curiosity. In order to trap a common foe and derail an impending threat, Havoc and Mercy must turn the tables to hunt a predator. Can an assassin and a mercenary find their balance on the thin line of loyalty, or will it snap under the weight of their wary hearts? A breeze trickled through the heated air trapped inside the shop’s dim interior and the barest shadow inched along the wall marring the sunlight stretched across the pitted floor. It wasn’t much of a disturbance, but it was enough to make Havoc pause, the dark bottle of home-brew suspended halfway to his drier-than-the-desert-outside mouth. The bottle’s edge hovered over his lip as he watched the shadow slip along the rusted interior wall of the local ammunition dealer’s shop. Recently lax muscles coiled in anticipation. Faint shouts drifted down the rutted street and through the shop’s opening, but he didn’t move, never taking his eyes off the shadow slinking along the wall. Another breeze caught the ragged edges of the head scarf causing a traitorous ripple. The deeper in the shadow crept, the more it began to resemble a slender human despite the baggy cargo pants and the oversized layered shirts. A slight shift in stance pulled the loose material tight. If he hadn’t been staring he would have missed the surprising curves revealed for the briefest of seconds. It left him adjusting his perception to a slender female. A slow blink kept the sandy grit floating on the air from making a permanent home on his eyeballs. Yet a strange, unwelcomed curiosity kept him from any other revealing movement. The shouts came closer, the heavily accented voices rousing an old rage, but he locked it down and kept watching, wondering. The female tried to sink into the shrinking shadows. He should probably tell her that it wouldn’t do shit all. For a second his brain screamed at him to turn away. Nothing good would come from getting involved. Whatever sent her scurrying in here, wasn’t his damn business. He wasn’t here to get involved in other people’s troubles, he was here for one thing—to reload his brass, a necessity when ammunition was difficult to acquire. A project, the shop owner, Boomer, was currently in the midst of doing in the backroom. As if Havoc’s thoughts were a primer, Boomer’s rough voice shot through the shop. ‘You need to be more particular about your salvaging, my man. Some of this brass is for shit.’ It was almost comical how fast the female’s head snapped around. Despite the crappy lighting, dark, heavily lashed eyes hit and held with his, sharing a flash of grim determination edged with defiant fury before it was quickly banked into a predatory stillness. The impact landed a sucker punch to his gut. Silently, Havoc cursed because with a single look, his resolve about getting involved was blown to shit. Without looking away from the wary woman he managed a quick sip of his beer before setting his bottle down on the table’s top and answering, ‘Most brass nowadays is shit.’ That elicited a bark of laughter from the back room. ‘True.’ A heated exchange erupted outside, Spanish curses flying like horseflies on shit, and the woman’s head whipped back to the street. Bad move, darlin’. Taking advantage of her momentary lapse of attention, Havoc made his move, slipping around the table and closing the distance between them, even as the devil on his shoulder snarled a curse. Using his heavier frame he trapped her smaller one against the wall. He wrapped one hand around her wrist and tucked it between the wall and her hip, locking it in place. Then he caught her other blade-filled hand before she could land her intended strike. With a sharp twist, he had her well and truly caught. This close he couldn’t miss the feel of the sinuous lines of muscle under the loose clothing or the unyielding fury raging in the brown, green-shot depths of her eyes, the only things visible thanks to the grimy head scarf. The voices outside came closer. Knowing he would regret this, he dropped his head so his lips were at her ear, the not-unpleasant, faint scent of dust and sweat drifting to his nose. ‘Crate to the left, over by the table, see it?’ Time stretched as she searched his face. It wasn’t hard to miss the wary confusion in her brown eyes as it nudged fury to the side, making room for self-preservation to shove to the fore. Cautiously, as if she was waiting for him to bite, she turned her head and found the shipping crate sitting back against the wall. Her gaze came back to him and she gave a slow nod. ‘You get in and stay quiet.’ He waited for her nod, then released her less lethal hand and dragged her over. With his free hand he flipped the lid up. Thankfully, Boomer had just inventoried his delivery and the box was empty. He pulled on her wrist. ‘Get in.’ With one last cautious look between him and the doorway, she did as instructed, tucking into a small ball, and then flinching as another sharp burst of Spanish came from the street. With both hands on the lid, he stared down at her, the devil on his shoulder still ranting curses. ‘Don’t make me regret this, hear?’ She dipped her head once and he closed the lid. He shifted the crate so it hunkered between the wall and the table, then sat on top of it. The sturdy wood creaked under his weight, but he settled in to wait. Now he just needed to confirm who the hell was chasing her. He leaned his back against the wall, and sprawled his legs under the table before reclaiming his beer. He lifted the bottle and took a drink as his answer stepped into the doorway, blocking the sunlight. Didn’t it just figure that when he decided to step in it, he seriously stepped in it.

Perfect by Felice Stevens 💕 Book Blitz & Gift Card Giveaway 💕(M/M Romance)

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Despite multiple degrees and business success, in his heart Jeremy Strauss feels he’s never measured up. While he hasn’t lacked for men or women to share his bed, Jeremy has yet to find someone who sees beyond his muscles and perfect smile. Taking it slow with a lover isn’t how he operates, but something about the shy accountant he rescues in a snowstorm makes him want this time to be different. So what if Blake drops little comments here and there about Jeremy’s pretty face? Their relationship is perfect.

Or is it?

Lonely most of his life, Blake Myers is as careful with his heart as he is with a balance sheet. The last thing he expects is for a man like Jeremy to fall for him, and he can’t help but wait for the bubble to burst on their relationship. When the stress of a professional crisis turns personal, Blake sees the perfect relationship he and Jeremy have built start to crumble. Caught in an ever-tightening web of lies, rather than wait for Jeremy to leave him, Blake breaks it off and vanishes.

Perfection is an illusion.

Jeremy doesn’t know which way to turn and for the first time in his life, he’s lost and uncertain. Believing he’s no longer the man Jeremy needs, Blake sinks deeper into despair. Both men struggle with secrets, lies, and hurtful memories until they are forced to look inside their hearts and learn the truth—that love is perfectly imperfect.

At around six thirty, his desk phone buzzed. “Yeah?”
“Blake here to see you?”
His pulse sped up. “Be right there.” Jeremy ran a hand through his hair and walked out of his office to the front desk. In his suit and tie and dark wool overcoat, Blake looked sexy and sophisticated. Jeremy felt like an underdressed slob in his sweats and T-shirt. His heart pounded, and his palms turned sweaty. What the hell was happening to him?
“Hey. I’m here.”
When their eyes met, Blake’s face lit up, and he smiled. “Hi. This place is great. I can’t believe you started it from scratch.”
“Yep. I did.” Seeing the curious glances of both Benny and Gino, Jeremy took Blake’s hand in his. “Guys. This is my boyfriend, Blake. Blake.” He squeezed Blake’s hand. “The dark-haired guy is Gino, and the redhead is Benny. They’re my right-hand men.”
“Nice to meet you both.”
Gino gaped at him. “Boyfriend? You never said you were even dating anyone.”
“I didn’t realize I owed you an explanation.” Jeremy chuckled and shook his head. “Blake and I are going back to my office, so unless it’s my brother or the mayor, no interruptions. Got it?”
They nodded, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes, but he ignored them and pulled Blake along, anxious to be alone with him.
He pushed Blake into his office and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it. “Finally. I’ve been waiting all day to do this.”
He covered Blake’s mouth with his and kissed him deep and hard, his tongue pressing at the seam of Blake’s lips. For a moment, Blake stiffened, but when Jeremy slipped his tongue inside, Blake grabbed on to his shoulder and began to kiss him back with equal fervor.
“Mmmm. That’s better.” His hands sure and steady, Jeremy first pushed off Blake’s coat and suit jacket, then loosened his tie. “Wanna know what sexy fantasies I’ve been having all day since you said you were coming over?”
Blake stared at him, wild-eyed and panting. “Yeah. Tell me.”
“You, bent over my sofa, naked. Me fucking you, while outside people are walking by. Maybe they hear us, maybe they don’t.”
He watched Blake’s eyes glaze over with lust. Jeremy was more than willing to make Blake’s fantasy a reality. Getting him off in semi-public was hot as hell, and the desire Jeremy stemmed all day burst free. He wanted Blake. Now.
“Take off everything.”
Breathing heavily, Blake licked his lips. “But what if someone needs you? They’ll knock on the door and—”
“And I won’t answer because I’ll be too busy being inside you. Come on. Get naked.”