Friday, May 30, 2014

The Perfect Score by Beth Albright #Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Beth will be awarding a $15 Target gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour.

Ginny Bloom Hunnicutt is crawling back home to Cottonwood Cove Alabama-- her promising CNN news-reporting career in shambles when an on-air flub cost her the job and cost CNN a lawsuit. Putting ego aside, she takes a position at the Chatterbox – the local weekly newspaper run by her mother, the town gossip. What’s a southern belle to do in a crisis but run home to her mama?

But when a mysterious hot high school football coach rolls into town, Ginny’s luck begins to change. Seems he has more secrets than a shady politician and Ginny’s determined to dig up the truth, and write the story that will get her career back on track. Everyone knows in a small, southern town, nothing stays private.

But the more she delves into his past, the more she begins to fall for the former college football star.

The coach’s star player has some secrets of his own and when Ginny uncovers it all, she must decide if she should reveal everything or follow her heart and protect the people she has grown to care for.

Author Beth Albright weaves a saucy southern tale filled with intrigue, romance and laugh out-loud comedy. From the bright lights of Friday night football to the darkened bedroom of unexpected lovers, it’s a richly layered story with more twists and turns—and mud, than an Alabama back road.

Now enjoy an excerpt:

“I’ll have another,” I said as I ordered my second dirty martini. The Sand Box was a dingy little bar near the pier in Cottonwood Cove, Alabama.

Covered in fishing ropes and other remnants of the life on the lake, the place was a dive for the small-towns folk who lived here, and for the kids who were lake rats during the summer. But summer had ended weeks ago, the kids back at school, and we were well into September now. Late that night, the place was nearly empty.

I sat there nursing my drink, drowning myself in what I had come to believe was the most embarrassing moment of my career. The dim lights swung in old metal fixtures from the ceiling of the Sand Box. A jukebox playing Hank Williams Jr. stood missing some of its colored lights in the corner. A few old wooden tables were scattered around with a couple of red vinyl booths shoved in the corner near the pool table and dartboard.

I had come home, tail tucked neatly between my legs, to lick my wounds. My name is Virginia Bruce Hunnicutt. I go by Ginny. My sisters and I all have my mom’s maiden name as our middle name. I kept it as my last name for my TV job. Ginny Bruce, reporting. I was a reporter for CNN in Atlanta. Was being the key word here. I had been fired two weeks prior because one of my sources was a fake. I swear I checked the credentials but the story turned out to be full of inaccuracies and CNN is now in a lawsuit. I may never work in the media again. And CNN was my dream job.

My name is now as muddy as the Alabama red dirt, which is exactly where I ran home to: Cottonwood Cove, Alabama. It’s the safest place to be. And even though I had become quite the big city girl, the one I had always dreamed of being, somehow, the safety of being home in Cottonwood Cove had its perks. Like being in this dive bar in the middle of the week late at night, with only one other soul in here besides me. Oh, God—and he was making his way over to me just as I was finishing my second round.

“What’s your poison?” he asked in his deep sexy baritone. He was beautiful. Rugged and sculpted with dark wavy hair and gorgeous lips; he was about six foot three and deliciously well built. His dark blue eyes undressed me as he moved closer to me—or maybe that was just me thinking I’d be more comfortable with my clothes off with this gorgeous man. He was dressed in a navy Polo button-down and perfect fitting blue jeans. His large muscular thighs and broad defined shoulders were evident even under his clothes. One dimple accentuated the right side his cute, boyish face. He smiled at me like he was fixin’ to eat me up, and oh, I was feeling like dessert as he slid in next to me at the bar. He looked like an athlete. Or a god. Come to think of it, in Alabama, those are one in the same. Regardless, he was heaven to look at, or maybe I was seeing him through double martini glasses. Probably the latter since I only weighed about 125 pounds and I knew better than to have more than two drinks. Ever.

“I’m having dirty martinis,” I answered. “You?”

“I’ll have the same,” he said to the bartender.


Beth Albright is the author of the award-winning, best-selling series The Sassy Belles. After knowing Beth for just a few short seconds you are sure to learn she is from Alabama. No, its not the lilt of magnolia you can still catch in her voice, or even the way she lovingly describes her undying love for her famous alma mater's football champions. She will tell you she loves Tuscaloosa, even after living quite literally all over the country. Though Beth has had a remarkable career, from New York City to Hollywood, and all points in between, she has never forgotten where she came from...and what she loves. That's why when it came time to write, Beth had no choice but to write about Tuscaloosa and The University of Alabama, and all the quirky people she still calls family, though some do not actually share her bloodline!

Beth Albright has always been a storyteller. After spending nearly 15 years in talk radio, as a talk show host, playing the part of a principal character on the soap opera, DAYS OF OUR LIVES, owning her own acting school and children’s theater, and raising a son who was a nationally ranked figure skater, Beth has decided to return to her roots; storytelling. When she was in the sixth grade, her teacher gave her the floor every Friday to tell her stories. See, Beth was a talker, a future talk show host in the making, and she was telling stories so much that her teacher couldn’t teach. The teacher told 12 year old Beth if she would begin writing her stories down, she would be allowed time to share those stories with the class.

And she’s been writing, AND talking ever since. Beth has interviewed Bob Hope, Oprah Winfrey, Betty White, Wolfgang Puck and George Burns live from the Chinese Theatre, as well as numerous other celebrities, and authors. Then Beth became a principal character on Days of Our Lives. But through all of the excitement of talk shows and soap operas, Beth loved telling stories to her audience the most. With a degree in Journalism from her beloved University of Alabama, She always remains true to her roots, born and raised in Tuscaloosa, “My grandfather was the play by play announcer for the Crimson Tide in the 50s!” Beth will proudly tell you. She is a down homespun girl, although she currently lives in San Francisco with her TV producer husband and her brilliant son. But her heart is always in Alabama.

http://www.thesassybelles.com/

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https://www.facebook.com/TheSassyBelles

https://twitter.com/BeththeBelle

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6583748.Beth_Albright

http://tulepublishing.com/product/the-perfect-score/

http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Score-Southern-Born-ebook/dp/B00KIBLG7M/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1400963516&sr=1-1

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/beth-albright

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Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Mid Week Tease - Has my world just tilted on its axis? #MWTease


It's time for Mid Week Tease where my author friends and I post a little something from a WIP, flash fiction piece or from some of our published work for you, the readers. A huge THANKS to fellow author Sandra Bunino for creating this weekly event!






Enchanted (The Heart of Winter, 1) 




Can love withstand the test of time?

Winter never truly understood love, nor did she have time for men until she met Austin Wells Carlyle.  He was the man who would rock her world to its foundations.  He would test her notions, give her something to believe in, and change her misguided thoughts regarding happily ever after. Strangely, she was going to allow him to be the one thing she never believed in—her soul mate.

I'm pleased to let my readers and fans know the first book in my 4-book continuing series The Heart of Winter is under contract for audiobook and is currently in production.

For me, it has been a sort of a surreal time, actually being able to listen to my characters come to life in a different medium and jump off the pages of written words into the world of hearing them. :)

I will keep you all informed as to the release date of the audiobook.


Coming soon to Audible, Amazon and iTunes
Written by: London Saint James
Listen Time: 5 hrs and 30 mn
Narrated by: Laurel Morrell




Excerpt - When Winter first sees Austin.



     “Wow!”
     I heard a smooth male voice emanate from the direction of the corner booth.  I turned my attention to see someone standing perfectly still by the back corner.  His tall lean body was casually propped up against the wall.  His black jeans were frayed, and his black steel-toed boots untied.  The leather tongue of one boot was caught in the bottom fray of his jeans.  His left knee was sticking out a hole in his jeans.  He wore a pitch black leather bomber jacket which was worn over-top another black pull-over hooded sweatshirt. 
     My eyes continued their journey up the length of the body which belonged to the smooth voice.  Subsequently, I found the face shadowed beneath the dark hood.  When my eyes found his face, his eyes, something happened to me.  Has my world just tilted on its axis? I was off balance, overcome by something, a pull maybe.  This strange sensation took over.  There was something in which I could not fully understand and something in which my body was not at all use to.  My heart fluttered and raced.  It was like I had dropped a great distance at a very fast rate of speed, turning and flipping my stomach.
     With disbelieving eyes I watched him take his hand, run it over his hood then realized he was removing it from his head.  His pitch black hair was tousled.  One strand of pure black silken hair fell down over the smooth expanse of his forehead.  Dark eyebrows led the way to the most extraordinary long, dark, thick lashes, which outlined piercing eyes.  Those eyes were amazing. Not just one shade, but differing shades of blue-gray, and they seemed to smolder as he looked at me.  I felt my body shake with the immediate urge to touch him.  I was unsure he was real.  He was…beautiful. 
     I studied his face, the perfection of it.  His jaw line was strong, and his chin was dimpled with a cleft.  He looked like he had been carved, chiseled from the hand of an old master.  The full shape of his lips was beyond perfect, turning up into a breathtaking bright white smile.  He had the kind of smile which would make angels envious or, if not envious, sing in glory at the sight.  His cheekbones were high and pronounced and the line of his nose was just a very slight bit from a straight line at the bridge.  This fact only made this slightest of imperfections a now simple perfection. 
     He ran his fingers through his hair.  I wanted to be his fingers so I could touch his hair, caress his face, and run my fingertips over his lips.  Had I come unhinged, lost my mind in the moment? Everything about his face was spectacular.  Was I even breathing? All I could hear was the fast beating of my heart.  The pounding was hard in my ears.  My mouth went dry and cottony.  I think I forgot how to blink.
    “That was impressive.” He laughed a low even musical tone. “I thought I might need to step in but you handled yourself well.”
     I heard him; however, it took me a moment to process his voice and his words.  I was still stuck on the planes and angles of his face.
     “Uh….” I seemed to draw out the sound. “I’m sorry, what?” I muttered. 
     He smiled again, the most beautiful bright white smile.  His teeth were straight, brilliant, and perfect, too. 
Jeez.  He is, perfect.
     “What you just did, those obnoxious men.  It was impressive.”
     “Oh?” I said still a little muddled in my thoughts. “They were jerks.”  
     I watched the small laugh lines at the corners of his sensual mouth as they made their startling appearance with that devastating grin.  I stared rather oddly for a moment; pretty sure I was still unblinking.  Get a grip, girl.  You are acting like a total idiot.  The strange silence flustered me for an instant.  I needed to say something because he was just looking at me.  Oh my God, he is really looking at me.  Maybe he is waiting for me to say something?
     I blinked.


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Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Marking Him by Elena M. Reyes

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Event Organized by ❤MaE Book Tours & Promo Stars Services

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Synopsis
The day Maya Owens walked into his tattoo shop, everything Talan knew changed.

After officially starting a relationship, he is now having trouble managing Maya—a woman who consumes every part of his being and owns his heart. His need to control her and everything around her drives Maya insane, but he has good reason. After all, Janice is still lurking around and she has a vendetta against his Bitty.
In no time Talan wants more, and it’s faster than Maya can handle; things begin to get complicated.

Months of frustration and want take them for a ride neither wanted, but now yearn for. Will they make it through the turbulence? And if so, at what cost?

Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotica
Expected Publication Date: May 27, 2014
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Excerpt
“What are we doing here?” Maya asked when we pulled up to my shop.
This date was about remembering our first meeting, for her to see how I truly felt.
Taking her face in my hands, I caressed her cheek with the tip of my fingers and leaned forward to ghost my lips over hers.
“Where did we meet, Maya?” I asked, then waited for her reaction. She didn’t disappoint.
A small smile overtook her face. “Here.”
“So where else would I want our first date to be?”
Maya giggled, confusing me. “This isn’t our first date, Talan.”
“No? Are you sure?” She nodded, still laughing at my confused state. “I don’t remember taking you—”
“Shush,” Maya placed her finger over my lips, “our first date happened right here a few months back. The same night we discussed your tattoos.”
“But you said . . .” I trailed off; this having a woman shit was confusing.
“I know what I said, Talan.” She sounded exasperated and all traces of humor left her features. “I asked to date, to make us official.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?” I grumbled while rubbing my temples.
“I did; you just heard what you wanted.” Bitty raised an eyebrow at me. “Now, feed me.”
“You drive me insane.” If I didn’t care for this woman, I would strangle her.
My words were met with another raised brow and a saucy smirk. “Then I’m doing something right.”
I laughed at her reply. What could I say to argue that logic? She had every right to act cocky at the moment. Bitty had me by the balls and knew it.
“Stay.” Turning off the engine of my truck, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car. Maya stayed inside, waiting on me. “Ready?”
She nodded.
I unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbed her by the waist, and helped her down. Her small frame slithered down my body, rubbing against my hardened cock.
“For you? Since we met.”
“Behave.” My warning was met with defiance.
Maya’s hands grabbed onto the front of my pants. She pulled me forward; my erect shaft nestled between our bodies, pushing against her stomach. “Feed me.”
“Hungry?” I grunted when her right hand dipped inside my waistband.
“Commando?” She moaned, ignoring my question. Maya ran the tip of her fingers around the slit, rubbing the liquid there over my swollen head. I shivered while watching, mesmerized, as she brought the glistening digits toward her lips and sucked.
“Maya, please. Let’s go eat. You have to be starving.”
“I am,” she whimpered, as my flavor danced over her tongue. Maya winked at me then shimmied once more against me. The head of my cock—now purple and swollen—peeked out from the waistband, searching for her touch.
“Quit fucking around, Bitty.” Growling under my breath, I tucked my dick back into my pants, much to her disappointment. It’d been torture not taking her, but it was getting worse than before. We were both so close to that moment and we knew it. “I ordered in.”
“Warned you; I’m hungry.” She ignored my statement and instead pulled me down to her level. Her eyes shone with emotion, deep and as pure as she was. “Don’t care about food.” Maya bit my lip, hard. “Feed me.”
“Fuck.” She killed my will, my need to show her I wanted more from her than just the sweet pussy between her thighs.
“First, food, and then for dessert, I’ll give you my cock,” I whispered—more a plea than a bargain—against her lips. She bit down once more and backed away, leaving my lip bruised and tingling.
“Tempting.” Bitty stepped back. “Convince me.”
“Okay.” I took a step forward and backed her into my truck, my fingers tangling in her hair. She opened her mouth to speak, but my finger over those succulent lips silenced her. “Quiet.”
Maya whined against my hold. My hips kept her in place, taunting her, I ground my hardened length against her.
“We’re going to enter my shop and enjoy all the hard work I’ve put into this date. Nod if you understand.” She did. “I want to enjoy you.” Bitty moaned at this, and swiveled her hips into me. “Feed you. Don’t take that away from me.” At those last words, a soft expression overtook her face and she stilled in my arms.
She sighed. “You win.”
“What was that?” I asked needing to hear her say it again.
“You win.” Maya smiled and pushed me back with a gentle shove. “I want it all. You, me, and this date . . . the small talk and flirting. Maybe even another orgasm at the end of the night?” She was too cute when showing her neediness.
“No more harassing me?” I gave her a playful smile.
“For now.” She winked then pushed me toward the front doors of my shop.
“Stop.” I turned to face her. Maya’s look was confused, but her confusion turned into that burning need I loved when she realized what I’d pulled from my pockets. “Turn around,” I demanded and she complied.
She did. No questions, just obedience. I could get used to that.
“I’m going to cover your eyes.” My words were met with a needy whimper. Maya pressed her body closer to mine. The heat coming off her skin seared me.
“How do you expect me to behave if—”
“Quiet. Not a word,” I whispered into her ear and laid a small kiss on her neck. “Just enjoy.” The small blindfold I’d pulled from my pocket dangled from my finger. Her eyes followed its movement.
I wanted her to see the words etched onto the silk fabric, the ones I’d chosen just for her: Marked.
It said everything I felt. Every one of my pores, every cell in my body wore her stamp—her mark. Now, she would wear mine.
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About the Author
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Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would. As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned. Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure. It wasn't until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.

Connect with Elena M. Reyes!


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Monday, May 26, 2014

Cover Reveal Purr-fect Mating by Sheryl Winters

 

Purr-fect Mating
Lil Genie Series Novella
Paranormal / Romance

By Sheryl Winters
Publisher: Roane Publishing
Release Date: July 21, 2014

 
Fhina and Wulfar have a little problem.

On their wedding night, at the stroke of midnight, Wulfar changes into his shifted wolf form and cannot shift back. Not even to communicate with the woman he loves.

Fhina upon waking the day after their mating, no longer recognizes her mate. Pregnant and confused, she’s convinced herself that her mate has run away and left her to live alone. With his dog.

Can they find a countercharm before Fhina gives birth? Will Wulfar be able to curb his inclination to run?

Or will their mutual curses break their love before it’s really even started.



About Sheryl Winters
 
I’ve never set out to be an author. Only a story teller. Some days I succeed better than others. 
 

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Mid Week Tease - Gold Digger #MWTease


It's time for Mid Week Tease where my author friends and I post a little something from a WIP, flash fiction piece or from some of our published work for you, the readers. A huge THANKS to fellow author Sandra Bunino for creating this weekly event!


For those of you who follow our MWT, I’ve been sharing some from Spanked by the Bad Boy. I’m happy to announce that I have completed Declan’s and Tiffany’s story and it has been submitted for publication consideration. So, the wait begins for the first book in my Bad Boy Fever series to make it into the world of books :)

This summer is going to be a busy one for me. My story, Confessions of a Chocoholic should be out sometime in June/July. The first of my Paradise Ranch series, Welcome to Paradise should be out in August, and The Good Sister: Part One should be in the mix for audiobook release. As you know, there’s no rest for the wicked, and it’s on to the next project on my very long list of stories to complete. 

 Here’s a taste of my current M/F Erotic Romance WIP, Gold Digger.






The formal garden at Eden Hill was stunning, and tonight, with the white twinkle lights illuminating all the trees in a surreal shimmer, the scent of roses, gardenias, lilac, and honeysuckle wafting in the breeze, along with the soft sounds of music floating through the perfection of the evening air, the famous garden and surrounding grounds had been transformed into the social event of the summer season.
Chrystale Blanc was in her element, mingling amongst the guest at her mother’s engagement party. She had to give her mother her dues; she’d done well this time around. Chenille Blanc wasn’t just the woman who gave birth to her at the young age of seventeen, but her best friend, her mentor, and her confidant. At the age of forty-five, Chenille scored big with her soon-to-be fifth husband, Donald Atmore Harrison III. Donald, eight years her mother’s senior, came from old money. Old money was the best kind of money as far as she and her mother were concerned. It afforded them connections, influence, travel, not to mention designer clothing, lavish jewelry, and languorous mornings at the spa, afternoons sipping sweet tea by the pool, and all those endless, glorious, shopping sprees.
A few strands of Chrystale’s long golden-blonde hair came loose from her chignon, and tickled the back of her neck and shoulder blades, sending a quick chill over the canvas of her warm flesh as she weaved her way over to the temporary bar. She’d set her sights on a not too handsome fellow who was swirling his amber colored liquor around in the bottom of his crystal glass.
She assessed him quickly. Mid to late thirties. No ring on his finger. Good hair cut. Decent height. Not too pudgy around the midsection. Armani suit. Italian loafers. Cartier watch.
“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” she mumbled under her breath.
She didn’t have to be attracted to him, just attracted to his wallet. She supposed the apple hadn’t fallen too far from the tree since she was a proud card-carrying member of the gold diggers club, and Chrystale, like her mother, was perfectly fine with that.
With a sly smile, she reminded herself to thank her mom the first chance she got, because she was well on her way to finding her next conquest of the male persuasion within the elite social circles of Savannah’s rich, richer, and filthy rich members.
“Hi,” she said in her seductive voice, making sure to draw attention to her creamy mounds by strumming her fingers along the low line of her sparkling d├ęcolletage.
She batted her long lashes at the man who was staring exactly where she wanted him to before his gaze met hers.
“Hello,” he said.
“I’m Chrystale.” He blinked. “Chrystale Blanc.”
“Ah,” he said, and tipped his glass at her. “You’re Chenille’s lovely daughter. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
With practiced ease she released her flirty giggle, causing her bosom to shake, and brushed her french-tipped fingernails down the material of his expensive suit covered arm. “Likewise.” She drew his brown gaze toward her chest once more, easy, like a moth to the flame.
 “Err...” he mumbled, tearing his attention from her bountiful cleavage. He lifted his masculine chin and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m Bram Gillette. Can I buy you a drink?”
She gave him her coquettish smile. “It’s an open bar, Mr. Gillette.”
“Yes,” he said with a nod, red dousing his cheeks. “You’re right. It is.”
She hooked her arm around his. “I’ve been dying to dance though.”
“All right,” he said, setting his glass on the top of a retaining wall, before placing his hand over her hand. “It sounds like the band is playing our song, Ms. Blanc.”
Listening to the instrumental version of Boyz II Men’s I’ll Make Love to You, she walked with him arm-in-arm toward the wooden parkay squares laid out on the manicured grass which made up the dance floor. “Indeed,” she said, softly. “They are playing our song.”









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