Friday, December 27, 2019

New Release: Laws of Attraction by A. C. Arthur






LAWS OF ATTRACTION BY A.C. ARTHUR




Litigation attorney, Kelly Brandon, lands the case of her career when a college friend shares that she’s been sexually harassed by a popular baseball player. Inspired by her sister’s suicide a year ago, Kelly is determined to bring this offender to some form of justice. What she doesn’t expect is learning that the crisis manager hired to save the day for the ballplayer is Sterling Layne, a blind date turned one-night stand that Kelly tried valiantly to forget. 
The only thing that comes before Sterling’s job is his family, so when his headstrong cousin gets into trouble it’s Sterling’s duty to help him out—even though he’s not totally sure of his innocence. Coming face-to-face with the woman he’d had a hard time forgetting might be the only upside to dealing with this public relations nightmare. Now, together, Sterling and Kelly must find a solution that works for everyone involved, while trying to resist the attraction that’s been steadily brewing since their first date. 
But there’s another aspect to this case that neither of them expect and when the danger reveals itself, Kelly and Sterling will be forced to take a long, hard look at the lives they’ve been leading and the future they’re working toward.

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ABOUT A.C. ARTHUR



AC Arthur was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland where she currently resides with her husband, three children, grandson and an English bulldog named Vader. An active imagination and a love for reading encouraged her to begin writing in high school and she hasn’t stopped since.
Working in the legal field for over twenty-five years, AC has seen lots of horrific things and longs for the safe haven of a romance novel. To date, she has written in several genres: YA paranormal (w/a Artist Arthur), small town romance as Lacey Baker, and sexy contemporary and paranormal romance. With intriguing plots and sexy love scenes, AC brings a new edge to romance!

Friday, December 13, 2019

A Taste of Her Own Medicine by Tasha L. Harrison Promo Tour

A TASTE OF HER OWN MEDICINE BY TASHA L. HARRISON

“He looks like he could plow my north field without a horse.”
Sonja Watts needs to re-enter the workforce after divorcing her husband of thirteen years. Taking the advice of her sister Birdie and her best friend Estelle, she signs up for a six-week course for entrepreneurs; hoping that she will learn everything she needs to know to build a business to support herself and her kids.
On the first night of class, Sonja is able to ignore the fact that most of the students were younger than her by ten years or more. It was what she expected. But when the instructor walks in, she debates packing up here new twelve hundred dollar laptop and walking out.
Sonja couldn’t remember the last time she looked at a man with little more interest than she give a sturdy dining room table. She was just disinterested.
But wow, did Atlas James grab her interest.
Atlas hasn’t been interested in dating since he moved back home California. Adjusting to new found success in the town where everyone sees him as that big, geeky guy who cut grass for pocket change when they were in high school has been awkward. Aside from a couple of one night stands, he hasn’t really wanted to pursue a relationship with anyone until sweet, shy Sonja signs up for his class.
Compact, curvy, and juicy in all the right places, being in the same room Sonja Watts ignites all of those giddy feelings he felt when he had his first crush. He wants to know her and he’s pretty sure she wants to know him — despite the age difference that she seems to be so fixated on.
With her future riding on the success of her new business, Sonja has no time for distraction. Will she be able to keep her eyes on her own paper or will they remain glued to Atlas’s biceps and thick thighs?


AVAILABLE ON

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chapter one  
Sonja
The strip of shops, eateries, and galleries in The Village of West Greenville were dark and quiet when I pulled my Subaru into the parking lot a few blocks away from The CoWorking Spot. In the last few years, this part of town had experienced some growth with the arrival of a few restaurants and specialty shops. But that was just a handful of businesses; most of which closed at or around six o’clock, leaving the streets quiet on a late summer evening. I took advantage of this moment of quiet. Closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to settle the nervous butterflies in my stomach.
About a month ago, I allowed myself to be convinced to sign up for a six-week entrepreneurship course— something I’ve been regretting since the day the payment cleared. 
What makes me think I could run my own business? 
The only thing I’d managed in the last ten years was a household, and occasionally, the front desk at my ex-husband’s real estate offices. Those skills didn’t necessarily translate into the sort of hustle one needed to be an entrepreneur. But at the time, my sisters Birdie and Agostina, as well as my friend Estelle, made it seem like a great idea to start a business with the skincare products I made from the herbs and medicinal flowers in my garden. And I agreed. Or maybe the gallon of wine I drank that night agreed because now that I was sitting in my car with my brand new laptop, in a brand new laptop bag, I wondered if I’d temporarily lost my mind.
The Bluetooth in my car announced that I had an incoming call from Estelle Murphy.
“Hello?”
“Get out of the car, Sonja,” she ordered. 
“Why did I let you talk me into this?” I groaned and opened the car door, slightly annoyed that she knew me so well. 
“Because you’re more than ready for it. We’ve gone through this. Get out of the car, and I’ll walk down there with you.” 
“Okay. I’m coming.”
I’d arrived a good forty minutes early, mostly because I needed to stop by Ink Blue Yoga to get a pep talk from my Estelle. 
Ink Blue, Estelle’s yoga studio, was one of my favorite places. The front windows went floor to ceiling, which made the interior look and feel bright and warm. The smooth, shiny hardwood floors were warm in the winter months and cool in the summer. They welcomed bare feet and I almost wanted to drop my bags, strip down and get in a few vinyasas. Estelle was good at this business thing and was brilliant at getting her studio seen. If I checked our town’s hashtag on Instagram on any given day, her yoga studio always showed up in the top nine. 
“Hey, Soni,” my friend said and gave me a knowing look as I came in. “Amelia?” 
The woman sweeping at the far end of the studio looked up.
“I’m going to walk Soni down to the The Coworking Spot. I’ll be right back.”
“No, problem. I’ll get everything set up for the six-thirty class.” 
She grabbed two bottles of water out of the cold case near the cash wrap and handed me one. I opened it and followed her back out to the sidewalk. 
“Okay,” she said. “Out with it. What are you feeling right now?”
I gnawed on my bottom lip. “I’m nervous.”
“Be specific.”
“I’m probably going to be the oldest person in the class —”
“And that matters because…?”
“It makes me feel self-conscious. It’s been years since I’ve been in a classroom. I’m not sure if I can learn everything I need to know to make this thing work.”
“Sonja, you’re one of the smartest people I know. You’ll be fine.”
“How can you say I’ll be fine? It took me six days to figure out how to use this fucking computer you made me buy.”
Estelle laughed at me, and I joined her, realizing how pathetic I sounded. Doing something new was always scary. But it had been so long since I’d done anything new that this felt huge. She grabbed my hand as we walked the remaining two blocks to the building that hosted The Entrepreneur Academy.
“There’s no need to be intimidated by anything you’re presented with today. You’re there to learn, and the instructor is there to teach you. Who’s your instructor again?”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “You sound like you’re escorting your kid to their first day of elementary school.”
“Aren’t I?” she joked.
I pulled up the email they sent me after I registered for the class. “My instructor is someone named Atlas James. You know him?”
Estelle gasped, and her steps faltered a bit. “Yeah… yeah, I know him.”
“What was that reaction about?” 
“Uh, nothing. Atlas James is … he’s an amazing teacher. I learned a lot from him.”
“Yeah, but you gasped.”
Estelle cleared her throat and smirked. “You’ll see.”
We arrived at the doors, and I turned to her with a smile. “So, I’ll meet you next door when the class is over so we can have some drinks?”
“Oh, most definitely! Relax, and have fun. It’s not nearly as hard as you think it will be. Especially not with Atlas teaching. I think you’re really going to enjoy yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “Bye, Estelle.” 
Still laughing at my friend, I went inside the coworking space that doubled as the Entrepreneur Academyclassroom on evenings and weekends. From what I read online, the two people who owned the business and ran the programs were dedicated to helping an underserved group of entrepreneurs get a foothold in the economy growing in Greenville. The businesses that students started after attending the Academy were conscientious and interested in blending into existing community. That was precisely the kind of business I wanted to build; one that felt so familiar that my customers could easily imagine the hands that made the products and feel connected to the process. 
I’d entered on the street level across from the Village Journal into a small lobby and seating area. 
“Hi!” a young girl sitting behind the desk said with a smile. “Welcome to The CoWorking Spot. I’m, Chloe. Can I help you?”
“Uh, yes. Hi, Chloe. I’m here for the Entrepreneur Academy Course?”
“Ah, yes. Could you just sign in for me? They’ll be meeting in the Community Classroom at the big table down there,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “But you’re a little early, so feel free to grab a cup of coffee and look around or just hang out up here. Atlas is around here somewhere.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said as I signed in.
When I was done, I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and made my way down the steps to the Community Classroom. The big table was in an open area, with about ten or fifteen chairs around it. The group was far smaller than I anticipated it would be, and for some reason, that made me feel even more nervous. That and the fact that this Atlas person was somewhere in the building and if no one else arrived soon, I would be the first to meet him. All that tittering Estelle had done on the sidewalk made me wonder what the hell I was in for.
After choosing a seat on the far end of the table away from the big screen TV  as the place to drop my laptop bag, I went back up to the lobby to grab a cup of that free coffee the girl at the desk had offered me. I was still considering the dark, strong-smelling brew when a young man bounded up the stairs. 
I swear my mouth went so dry that my tongue stuck to the roof of it. 
“Hi!” he said cheerily, his lips splitting into a grin that lit up his face. And Jesus Christ was it a gorgeous face. He had smooth dark skin and the sort of distinctive features that were so unusual that it was hard to look at him without really staring. Full lips, a broad nose, and bedroom eyes with thick lashes that squinted when he smiled like he was doing now.
“Hello,” I managed to croak, unable to tear my eyes away even though he was standing next to me now, and I had to look up, up, up to meet his gaze. This man was tall and built like he could plow my north field without a horse, with shoulders that he could probably throw a woman-sized stack of potatoes over. And by woman-sized, I meant me. I would like to be that woman-sized sack of potatoes.
That thought startled me. I couldn’t remember the last time I looked at a man with little more interest than I gave a sturdy dining room table.
“Trying to get that last dose of caffeine in, huh?” he said casually as if his deep baritone wasn’t designed to disintegrate my panties the moment he opened his mouth.
“Uh, yeah. I usually try not to drink coffee this late. It tends to mess with my sleep, but I’m not usually out after this hour, so—” 
What the hell was I even saying? Why was I talking about my caffeine intake like some old lady who needed to be at home before nine to make sure she took her remedies?
“I hear that,” the young man said as he tore open two sugar packets with the edge of his bright white teeth. His tongue swiped at a loose granule, and my pussy clenched like I knew how that tongue would feel between my thighs.
Look away, Sonja. Look a-damn-way. 
He gestured at the still empty cup in my hand with the carafe of coffee in his hand, offering to fill it up.
“Yes, please.” I held out the paper cup in my now trembling hand. “Thank you,” I said once it was filled and finally turned toward the coffee station to add some sugar and cream. 
“No, problem. I’ll see you down there,” he said, a smirk in the corner of his full lips. 
“Oh! You’re here for the Entrepreneur Academy thing?”
He pivoted around the corner to make his way back down the stairs. With his eyes on me, his smirk shifted into a smile. “I’m the instructor,” he said just before he disappeared from view.
“Holy fuck … that’s Atlas James?” 
“Yes, ma’am, it is,” the girl behind the desk said with a wistful sigh.
Leaving the cup of untouched coffee on the bar, I ducked into the nearest bathroom to call my so-called friend. Her self-satisfied giggle met my ears when she finally decided to pick up the phone. 
“Really, Estelle?”
“What? 
“You could have warned me that my instructor was a real-life action hero, so I didn’t embarrass myself by drooling and blubbering like an idiot.”
“You drooled and blubbered like an idiot? That’s surprising. I didn’t think he would get that much of a reaction out of you.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Sonja,” she began gently. “I’ve known you for almost nine years, and I’ve never heard you so much as sigh at the sight of a pretty man. Even men that are universally handsome never seemed to move the meter for you.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, well, Atlas James sure as hell did.”
“Mmmhmm… six weeks of class with him was not an unpleasant experience.” 
“Estelle! You’re happily married!”
“I’m married, not dead, Sonja.” 
“I get that, but…”
“Yes, I allowed myself to enjoy his personage, then I went home to my husband. And since you no longer have one of those, none of that should matter to you.”
“I have no intentions on—”
“I gotta go. The six-thirty power hour is about to start. I’ll meet you for drinks, and we can talk about how Atlas made you squirm in your seat for an hour and a half.” Then she hung up before I could respond. 
I glared at my phone’s darkening screen for a moment and tried to figure out if there was a way that I could sneak downstairs, grab my new bag and twelve-hundred-dollar laptop, and duck out before the class started. because I couldn’t sit in the same room with that man. Hell, maybe I didn’t need to grab my stuff. Estelle could drive me home. My kids were there, so I didn’t need to worry about how I would get in. I could pick up my bag in the morning or some other time when I was sure he wouldn’t be here. Then I would quit the class because a woman my age should not be subjected to a man that young and that fine for six-long weeks without any sort of satisfaction. 
Satisfaction? I mean, seriously. What satisfaction did I want from this man? And more importantly, what satisfaction would he be willing to give? Did I want to know? Goddamn, he had successfully scrambled my brain. This was not right or okay.
I glanced in the mirror and smoothed my hand over my newly cropped hair. Around the same time that I allowed myself to be convinced to sign up for this course, my sister Agostina thought it was a good idea to chop off all of my hair. “A woman who cuts her hair is about to make big changes in her life,” or some foolishness she'd parroted from a mindfulness blog she read. Initially, I thought the cut looked cute. Fun. Now I just looked like a middle-aged woman who’d lobbed off her hair and dyed it to hide the grey.
I sighed and shook my head at myself, then turned on the water to wash my hands. I was making too big a deal out of this. He probably didn’t even notice that I’d drooled over him. I wasn’t unattractive, but I’d long ago realized that I’d become invisible to a specific type of man and definitely a certain age bracket. Atlas James fit that demographic. Yeah... I was worried about the wrong thing. 
By the time I made my way out of the bathroom and toward the low murmur of conversation in the Community Classroom, I’d convinced myself that I was overreacting. I’d only assumed that he had noticed me noticing him. That didn’t make it true. 
And I believed that until I realized that my bag had been moved to a seat other than where I'd left it. It was now in front of a chair closer to the middle of the table…
Right across from where Atlas was setting up his laptop and unloading his backpack. 
I glanced toward the place I’d left my things and saw that two girls were huddled there now. How wrong would it be if I put on my mom-voice and bullied them out of their seats? 
“Decided against the coffee?” Atlas asked, pulling me out of my reverie.
“Uh… yeah. I had a couple of sips, but I’m jittery enough. It would have been a mistake.”
“I probably should have done the same, but you know…Y.O.L.O.”
I cringed inwardly. “Yeah…Y.O.L.O.,” I echoed then pulled out the chair. 
My son used that horrible slang phrase when he was in middle school. Was this Atlas in the same age bracket? Now I felt a little gross about lusting over someone who was probably only a few years older than my high school-age son. 
Yuck
I laughed at myself again. Unloaded my bag. 
Stay on task, Sonja.
“Okay… It looks like everyone is here!” Atlas said. “Let’s get started.” He clapped his hands together and moved toward the front of the room. “Welcome to The CoWorking Spot. I’m Atlas James, and I’m going to be your instructor for this cohort of the Entrepreneur Academy. A little bit about me…Yes, my name is really Atlas, but I don’t think my mother named me that in anticipation of me having shoulders big and strong enough to carry the world on them, but it helps that I grew into it.”
We all laughed at that, and he seemed to relax a little bit. “I’m a business coach for creative people who want to use their talents to make money. I’ve been at that for a little over six years, and before that, my best friend and I built a tiny home in a step-up panel truck and I traveled to every state in the continental US. I have two degrees, business and MBA in marketing, both of which used to build and run this business. Now…” He looked from one end of the table to the next, and then his eyes settled on me. “I’d like to get to know all of you.”
My mouth suddenly went dry, and my nipples drew up into tight little buds against the thin silken fabric of my bra. I folded my arms, leaned forward on the table, and prayed that he didn't ask me to go first. Nothing but squawking high pitched sounds would come out of me if he did. 
Atlas smiled at me then turned his attention to one of the young girls at the far end of the table. 
Thank God
“You there in the pink sweater. State your name, state your business.”
Everyone at the table was at least ten or more years younger than me. They had internet jobs that I’d never heard of before — like social media manager and content strategist — that they’d joined the Entrepreneur Academy to grow. None of them had a business that sounded anything like mine. 
“And what about you, Miss…” Atlas pushed up the sleeves of his henley and pointed at me.
My brain short-circuited. 
“Sonja…” I stammered. Yes, that’s my name. “Sonja Watts and I want to open an online store to sell natural soaps, essential oils, hand, and body cremes, and maybe teas using recipes created by my Gullah grandmother.”
The room fell silent. 
“Excuse me…Sonja?” one of the girls at the end of the table began. She was sitting across from the girl in the pink sweater. I think her name was Ashley.
“Yes?”
“What is a Gullah exactly? You mean, like Gullah, Gullah Island? That show that used to come on Disney?” Ashley asked with a giggle that her friend in the pink sweater echoed. 
Atlas turned his attentions to Ashley and regarded her for a long critical moment. “Gullah people are Coastal Carolina African Americans who have maintained most of their West African culture, to include language and traditions,” he explained finally. “They practice a lot of holistic medicine through cherished recipes passed down through generations.” He looked at me again, his eyes soft and…was that appreciation I saw there? “I imagine your business will be no different than someone starting their own beauty brand.”
“I imagine so…” I said, feeling for the first time in an hour that I was right where I was supposed to be.

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ABOUT TASHA L. HARRISON

Often accused of navigating life without a filter, Tasha L. Harrison has managed to brand herself as the author who crafts characters and stories that make you feel all of the feels. She writes African American, interracial and intercultural erotica and erotic romance with heroines just as brazen, emotionally messy, and dramatic as herself and heroes that love them anyway.
She lives in Upstate South Carolina with her handsome hubbie, two not-so-smallish men, and one super needy boxer dog. When she’s not writing filth, she’s riding around with the top down on her Jeep Wrangler, Amber, blasting Southern Rock and pretending she’s in love with the mountains when she really misses the ocean.
She also edits romance and erotica because love stories are her business.
Tasha’s work and information on her editing rates and services can be found at tashalharrison.com.

CONNECT WITH TASHA L. HARRISON

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Corporate Seduction by AC Arthur Release Blitz

CORPORATE SEDUCTION BY A.C. ARTHUR

Reka Boyd’s life has changed in the last four years. With a college degree, a new job title and her best friend’s wedding to help plan, she has far too much on her plate to deal with dead-end relationships or get sucked into office drama the way she used to. But when erotic emails inundate the inboxes of everyone at the firm, and a sexy new IT guy shows up to get to the bottom of the situation, she can’t help but feel the heat.
Khalil Franklin is working undercover to help his friends find out whose spamming their firm email and why. Fresh off a break-up he’s not in the market for another love interest, but as the feisty and attractive paralegal questions his every move at the firm, he finds himself falling for her fast!
Who will be left standing when a chance meeting at a sex club hatches a plan for revenge and the email scandal erupts on the top floor of Page & Associates?


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ABOUT A.C. ARTHUR



AC Arthur was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland where she currently resides with her husband, three children, grandson and an English bulldog named Vader. An active imagination and a love for reading encouraged her to begin writing in high school and she hasn’t stopped since.
Working in the legal field for over twenty-five years, AC has seen lots of horrific things and longs for the safe haven of a romance novel. To date, she has written in several genres: YA paranormal (w/a Artist Arthur), small town romance as Lacey Baker, and sexy contemporary and paranormal romance. With intriguing plots and sexy love scenes, AC brings a new edge to romance!

 

CONNECT WITH A.C. ARTHUR

AUTHOR SITE | FACEBOOKTWITTER | INSTAGRAM | PINTEREST | BOOKBUB | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

Thursday, December 12, 2019

Book Review: The Killing Breeze by Tony Lindsay

Title:  The Killing Breeze
Author:  Tony Lindsay
Genre: Urban Fiction
Rating:  💣💣💣💣💣

About the Book
The Killing Breeze is a story of societal unrest told from the point view of two main characters, opposites in a sense: one being a Black male Ph.D., the other a white female undergraduate. The unrest takes place in the fictional Falcon City; a city in America that becomes the focal point of national police killings; every time a Black person is killed by police nationally, a white officer is slain locally in Falcon city. The young white female undergraduate, Denise Thomas, makes the initial correlation.
She seeks out Dr. Noble Breeze, the Ph.D., to correlate her theory. Due to the police being shot, the city is in a volatile state, tense throughout, and that tension remains through the novel generating a page turning read. Dr. Noble Breeze is in no way a typical academic; his checkered past includes psychiatric ward hospitalization, and his current life involves clandestine activities with a militarized think-tank known as the American Purist Society.

The racial tension between the police, The American Purist Society, and the Black citizens of Falcon drive the novel to a climatic clash between the Black citizens, white supremacist, the military, and the police; at the center of the conflict are the national police killings. The novel is alarming in its timeliness and unsettling in the revelations of American thought; what a reader presumes will happen, doesn’t; the novel is not a cliffhanger – it drops the reader off a cliff.

My Review
I'm not normally a fan of urban stories.  They've just never been my thing.  I have to say this was such a great and well written story.  There are a lot of things in the story that has been happening in today's time.  The story is told from two points of view, a young caucasian woman and an older PHD African American college professor.  For most of the story, the two are worlds apart, until the unthinkable happens that will  change the way they think and rock their worlds.  This was an absolutely amazing read.  I was truly in my feelings while reading this book, and I will be looking for more books from this author.  

Link to Purchase
https://amzn.to/2PgDILn

Book Review: Pose by Niko Michelle

Title:  Pose: My Beauty, My Standards
Author: Niko Michelle
Genre:  Women's Ficton
Rating:  💣💣💣💣💣

About the book
After continuous criticism, Quinn takes extreme measure to pursue her dreams and fill voids in her life. She wanted to be accepted. She needed validation. She started doing things that compromised her worth, almost took her life, and sent her into hiding. After resurfacing, Quinn opens her own modeling agency where she sets out to redefine beauty. Just as things are finally coming together, tragedy and scandal shake up her world. Will this send her back into hiding or will she come out on top?

My Review:
I had to stop several times.  Not because the book was bad, but the total opposite.  It was such a well written story that had me in my feelings.  I had to stop because it brought up things from the past I thought I had resolved.   I lived some of Quinn's life, so I felt every emotions she did with certain aspects of the story.  I also loved seeing her growth throughout the story.  Another thing I appreciated about the story was the aspect about seeing a therapist, which I will continue to stay in our community we need to embrace it a lot more.    This was an amazing and very well written story and I'm excited to see what's next in store for the author.  

Link for Purchase
https://amzn.to/35cEWwF

Monday, December 9, 2019

Closer To You by Sheryl LIster Book Blitz


CLOSER TO YOU BY SHERYL LISTER

Located an hour away from San Diego, the small town of Blackmont, California is known for its peaceful surroundings and majestic lakes. However, secrets and danger lurk just below the surface. And some secrets could prove to be deadly.
Love may be a distraction neither of them will live to enjoy…
When Zahra Chandler unexpectedly inherits her grandfather’s small-town home and bookstore, she jumps at the chance to leave LA. There’s just one problem: she also, unknowingly, inherits a long-buried secret that someone would go to any lengths to protect, including murder. The only thing standing between her and a killer is the town’s arrogant, but irresistibly sexy sheriff—a man who ignites in her a passion she’s never felt.
Kendall McKnight takes his job as sheriff seriously and is always prepared for anything…except his instant attraction to newcomer Zahra. As they’re drawn together in their search for clues, protecting her becomes less about civic duty and much more about carnal desire and he’s in danger of losing the one thing he vowed never to risk again—his heart. But the threat is closer than they realize and the truth, when revealed, could tear them apart forever.

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EXCERPT

            Zahra Chandler parked in front of her grandfather’s bookstore and sucked in a deep breath. She still couldn’t believe he was gone or that he’d left the house and bookstore to her, as well as a large monetary inheritance. Though only seven o’clock on Saturday evening, all of the town’s stores seemed to be shut down for the night. She stepped out of the car, looked around and stretched to relieve some of the kinks from the three-and-a-half-hour drive. Located about an hour away from San Diego, nestled in an area with beautiful mountains and lakes, Blackmont, California had a population of less than a thousand and everybody knew each other. So, who could have wanted her grandfather dead? Reaching back into the car, she grabbed the key ring her grandfather’s attorney, Mr. Bostwick, had provided, shut the door and pressed the remote lock.
            She walked up to the store’s front and searched for the key. “Oh, great,” she muttered. None of the keys were labeled. There had to be at least twenty keys and half of them looked to be a possible fit. She stuck the first one in, the second one, the third one…then the fourth one. She turned the key slightly and it broke off in the lock. Zahra let out an impatient sigh and cursed under her breath. She walked back to the car and searched the glove compartment for something to try to remove the broken piece. She grabbed a mini screwdriver out of one of those eyeglass repair kits she’d gotten from some promotional campaign, a regular sized screwdriver, and went back to the door. Using the flashlight on her key ring, she decided to try to dig out the small piece first. If that failed, then she’d use the larger one to pry off the lock.
            “Freeze!” a deep voice commanded from behind her.
            She gasped sharply, clutched her chest and spun around, instinctively bringing the screwdriver up in a protective position. Zahra slowly lowered it and visibly relaxed upon seeing the officer. “Goodness. You scared me. I thought you were a robber or something.”
            “I figured you’d be back.”
            Her eyebrows shot up. “I beg your pardon. Back from where?” 
            “Step away from the door, Miss,” he commanded, gun drawn.
            “Why? What are you talking about?”
            “Put your hands where I can see them.”
            She took a step. “I can explain.”
            “I’m not going to tell you again.”
 Raising her hands, she sighed. “I’m not breaking in.”
He holstered his gun, stalked over to where she stood and latched on to her arm.
            Zahra pulled away, dropping her keys and screwdrivers. “Wait. What are you doing? I’m not trying to break into the store.”
            “Look, lady. Don’t make me add resisting arrest to breaking and entering.”
            “You’re arresting me?” she asked incredulously. “This is my store. I haven’t done anything wrong. If you would just listen—”
            “You can explain it at the station.” He gestured her toward the police sedan.
            “You’re making a big mistake.”
            The corner of his mouth kicked up and he let out a snort. “Right. I’m making a mistake. I’m not the one who was caught jimmying a lock with a screwdriver. We can straighten out your identity at the station. Get in.” He retrieved the keys and screwdrivers from where she had dropped them then escorted her over to the car. “What’s your name?”
Zahra folded her arms and rolled her eyes. Before she could say anything, another police car drove up and two men got out. 
A young blond-haired officer called out, “Hey, Ken. Who you got there?”
            “Finally caught the person trying to break into Chandler’s Bookstore.” He held up the screwdrivers.
            Zahra placed a hand on her hip and pointed a finger in his face. “I wasn’t breaking into anything! Did you not see the keys in my hand?” She heard muffled laughter from the men, but didn’t care. She’d had enough of this craziness. 
            He opened the door and gestured her inside. “Have a seat.”
            She dropped down into the backseat and crossed her arms. “Arrogant jerk,” she muttered. After what seemed like hours, he came and leaned into the window. She drilled him with an angry stare.
            “Now, let’s try this again. What’s your name?” 
“Zahra Chandler.”
His brow lifted. “Chandler?
            “Yes. Chandler.” She smiled smugly and leaned forward. “I tried to tell you who I was before, but you wouldn’t listen,” she said through clenched teeth. “If you had just opened your ears for two seconds, I would have told you the key broke in the lock of my store and I was trying to get it out. I would have shown you my driver’s license, but it’s locked in my car, parked right over there, in front of my store.”
            “Looks like you really stepped in it this time, Kendall,” the older officer said, pushing off the hood of the car. Zahra guessed him to be about fifty. He had graying hair around the temples and a few lines bracketing his mouth and eyes on his walnut colored face. Although he had some added girth around his middle, he still looked to be in good shape. The man came over, smiled warmly and extended his hand through the window. “Carl Franklin. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Chandler. You must be Josiah’s granddaughter. I recognize you from the picture he kept in the store. He talked about you all the time. My condolences.”
            She shook his hand. “Thank you. Nice meeting you, too.” 
The other officer introduced himself.
She fixed her gaze on the man still standing there with a scowl on his face. “I’m thinking I’d like that apology now.”
            He had the decency to look embarrassed. “My apologies, Ms. Chandler. Someone has been trying to break into the store for the last couple of nights and I thought you might be that person.” He opened the door to let her out.
            “Thank you, but I’d still like to speak to a supervisor or your boss.”
            Officer Franklin laughed. “That might be a little tough since he is the boss. Ms. Chandler, meet Sheriff Kendall McKnight.”
            Zahra’s mouth fell open. A slow grin made its way over the sheriff’s face. Her breath caught. That smile was… She shook herself mentally. Now she had really lost her mind. Yes, he looked good…okay, better than good. Along with his towering height, he was drop-dead gorgeous. He had smooth nut-brown skin, a neatly groomed beard and goatee that hugged his jaw like a shadow, close-cropped black hair, chiseled features and piercing, dark chocolate eyes that seemed to see clear through to her soul. But this man had just tried to arrest her, so she had no business thinking about his smile or anything else about him. 

ABOUT SHERYL LISTER



Sheryl Lister is a multi-award winning author and has enjoyed reading and writing for as long as she can remember. She is a former pediatric occupational therapist with over twenty years of experience and resides in California. Sheryl is a wife, mother of three daughters and a son-in-love, and grandmother to two special little boys. When she’s not writing, Sheryl can be found on a date with her husband or in the kitchen creating appetizers. For more information, visit her website at www.sheryllister.com.

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Thursday, December 5, 2019


THAT CHURCH LIFE BY TERESA B.

The Church Gal Crew is leading the way to Salvation at Mt. Zion Holiness Church. Feisty Natalia Freemon is the “head” of the crew. Rebellious and outspoken, she has no problems challenging the church status quo. Years later however, her loss of faith will tragically impact her life. 
Michelle Hanks, a country girl from a hardworking farm family is the peacemaker and “soul” of the crew. Although struggling with self-confidence she is wise beyond her years and can’t wait to escape the farm life and find success; even if it costs her soul.
Missy Jones, the “heart” of the crew, has the face of an angel and a voice sent from heaven. A pastor’s daughter raised in the church, Missy loves the ministry and her place in it. But the flesh is tempting, especially when it comes in the form of sexy church musician and Mt. Zion playboy Tommy. 
In spite of her dedication to the word, Missy falls hard for Tommy, and then falls out of favor with the church. Trapped in a cycle of relationship abuse, Missy’s world is falling apart until Beanie, a reformed stick-up man turned Evangelist, shows her real love. But when tragedy strikes, Missy is torn between the truth, that could jeopardize every-thing she loves, or a lie that could be her damnation.
These three best friends drift away from each other and the church but come back together through spiritual downfall, relationship crises, drug addiction, and even murder. Can the crew survive the drama involved in That Church Life?

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ABOUT TERESA B.



Teresa B. Howell is an Exceptional Children’s Director that has two Master Degrees in education and leadership. She has received numerous awards and accolades in her profession, dedicated to mentoring and teaching students within the school system. Teresa was born and raised in the church. She witnessed the good and the not so good while not only attending, but also serving in various capacities in different church organizations. Teresa decided in July 2015 to put her experiences and observations on paper, and her first novel That Church Life was born. She aspires to be more than just the average Christian Author, which can be noted in her writing style. Teresa’s literary path is inspired by her faith, family, and close friends. She currently lives in Durham, NC with her husband and children.

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Wednesday, December 4, 2019

The Rebel King

THE REBEL KING BY KENNEDY RYAN

The Rebel King, the stunning, beautiful conclusion to the All The King’s Men Duet, from USA Today bestselling author Kennedy Ryan, is available now! Get ready for a binge read! 
Ambition. Revenge. Love.
RITA® Award-winning author Kennedy Ryan delivers the gripping conclusion to the All the King’s Men Duet.
Raised to resist. Bred to fight. Survival is in my blood and surrender is never an option.
Though surrender is what Maxim Cade demanded of my body and heart, I had other plans. We were fast-burning fascination and combustible chemistry, but the man I trusted with everything was a trickster. A thief who stole my love. If what we had was a lie, why did it feel so real? The man I swore to hate will have it all, and wants me at his side. But power is a game, and we’re the pawns and players.
Facing insurmountable odds, will we win the world, or will we lose it all?

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EXCERPT

A fat raindrop plops on my nose, sliding down the bridge, followed by another and then a wet succession.
“Aw, hell.” I pull my jacket up on my elbows to provide some shelter for the two of us, but the rain trebles, more coming down and faster.
“We still have four blocks before my place,” I say. “Sorry, but the weather is unpredictable this time of year.”
Rain has already started molding the thin dress to her body, faithfully hugging every swell and curve. A hard shiver runs through her and her teeth chatter.
“Come on.” I grab her hand and duck into an alleyway. An overhang provides a tiny patch of dry ground and shelter. “We may be able to wait it out. These showers sprout up and pass over like they never happened.”
We’re sandwiched between two buildings and there is barely any light, but the moonlight finds her, sculpting shadows beneath her cheekbones and etching dark crescents of her lowered lashes. The rain has smeared her mascara, and water-slicked hair flattens to her head. She should look bedraggled, but she manages to be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
I bend, tentative at first, even after last night. Even after making love to her again this morning when I chased her up the stairs. I approach slowly, giving her the chance to refuse, but she doesn’t. She meets me, eyes open, lips eager, hands bunched in my wet hair. It’s a freshwater kiss, made of rain and passion. Slow touches pick up steam until we’re frantic against the wall, hands searching, desperate to find the flesh under our soaked clothes. The inside of her thigh is slick with rain, and I trace the droplets with my finger before inching higher and burrowing beneath her panties, inside. 
“Do that, Doc,” she says, a breath-starved command. “Yes.”
I lean into the damp, scented curve of her neck, leaving kisses there while my finger is knuckle-deep in paradise. Every sound she makes gets me harder, ready. She kisses my jaw, my cheekbone, pulls my bottom lip between hers. 
“We should stop,” I pant across her mouth. “I can’t . . . let’s stop before . . .” How do I tell her that if we don’t, I’ll be fucking her in an alley with no regard for who might see? How do I say that without sounding disrespectful and selfish?
“Don’t stop.” She fumbles at my waist, tugging the belt from its buckle and pulling the button loose, the zipper down. “Do it.”
“Baby.” I drop my head back and groan. So tempting. I want to so badly. “The rain should let up soon. We can make a dash for it to my house.”
“Or,” she says, working her hand into my pants; finding me. Squeezing me. 
“Dammit, Nix,” I groan. “Don’t make me want you any more than I already do.”
“Or,” she says again, “you can do what we both want. Take what I want to give. Right here. Right now.”
Is it surrender when you both want it? I’m not sure if it’s her will or mine that wins out, but I hitch her up, my hands full of her ass, and lock her legs at my back. I reach between us to push her panties aside and plunge in. 
I feel like a god. 
Yet every time she gasps and groans and tightens around my body, she conquerors me. She’s indelible. I may end up with someone else, may even love someone someday, but there is a place Lennix Moon has carved out inside of me in a matter of a few days where only she will ever fit. It’s irrational and goes against all the rules I’ve set for myself, but she feels like mine. For the next two days, she is mine.
And then we’ll walk away.

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ABOUT KENNEDY RYAN

USA Today bestseller, RITA® Award Winner and Top 25 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy Ryan writes about women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the center of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.
She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine and Frolic, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director of a foundation serving Atlanta Autism families, she has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for families living with autism.

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Monday, December 2, 2019

Audiobook Tour: Teach Me by Alexandria House


TEACH ME BY ALEXANDRIA HOUSE

An intoxicating new romance by Alexandria House - available in audio first!
Stable, safe, predictable - all words that aptly describe Professor Nadia Day’s life. An existence she’s carefully crafted for herself despite her unconventional upbringing and what, to her, is an unseemly past. More than anything, she wants to forget her unstable history, and the last thing she would ever do is rock the boat when it comes to her life and livelihood.
When retired football player and single dad, Nathan Moore, walks into her psychology classroom, all fine and dreadlocked, he does more than rock her boat - he rocks her world and causes her to question her buttoned-up existence.
Will the professor give in to her desires and become a student of love?


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ABOUT ALEXANDRIA HOUSE



A true southern girl, Alexandria House has an affinity for a good banana pudding, Neo Soul music, and tall black men in suits. When this fashionista is not shopping, she's writing steamy stories about real black love.

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