RELEASE BLITZ! ~*~ Red Velvet ~*~ by Tess Oliver & Anna Hart

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Synopsis

“There’s a fine line between reality and fantasy and all it takes is the right amount of desire to cross that line.” ~Coco, owner of the Silk Stocking Inn

An erotic confection from bestselling authors Tess Oliver & Anna Hart.

Jessi has it all, success, money and a corner office with a view. The only thing she doesn’t have is the right man. But when a wrong turn lands her at the welcome mat of the Silk Stocking Inn, and in the arms of hot handyman, Grayson, Jessi’s well-planned life is turned upside down . . . both in and out of bed.

Jessi is about to get a tasty sample of love, erotic fantasies and red velvet cupcakes.

Red Velvet is a standalone book and the first installation of the sexy Silk Stocking Inn series.

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Excerpt

I stepped into the water. Teeny, opalescent bubbles floated up as my body sank down into the lavender scented water. I put the blindfold over my head and pulled it down over my eyes. My elbow hit the bar of soap resting on the edge of the tub. It thudded on the floor. I was too cozy in my bubble quilt to reach for it.

The tub was designed perfectly for reclining. I relaxed back with a long sigh.

A rush of cool air ushered inside the bathroom and footsteps plodded over the tile floor. Coco returning with the towels, I decided.

“Coco, I think I just invented a new type of sigh. It’s one that goes perfectly with the act of melting one’s body into a splendid tub of warm water.” I repeated the sound, and it swished around the room like a lost whisper. “Thank you so much for this. If you don’t see me in the morning, you’ll find me still sitting beneath the bubbles. You can just leave the towels. If it’s not too much trouble, could you retrieve the bar of soap? I knocked it off the edge.”

Footsteps tapped the tile as Coco neared the bath. I was growing drowsy behind the blindfold as I lazily lifted my hand above the bubbles. Surprisingly callused fingertips grazed my palm as the soap landed on my hand.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The deep voice echoed off the walls and sent me upright.

I yanked off the blindfold and was staring at a faded pair of jeans. The bulge in front assured me of what my terror-filled mind had already surmised. Coco wasn’t the second person in the room.

I peered up at the impossibly tall man. His broad shoulders cast a giant shadow over the tub. His dark blue eyes stared down at me, more specifically at my breasts, which I’d now revealed by sitting straight up out of my bubble cloak.

I sank back down into the water. “I don’t know how you got in here, but—”

“Came in through the door, and I heartily approve of the new type of sigh. Works well in this context.” He stooped down next to the tub with a crooked smile that could only be described as a knee wobbler, a term Cara and I had come up with for a man whose smile caused a woman’s knees to turn to jelly. The rest of his face went well with the smile.

His hand curled around the edge of the bath. I scooted away, which was comical considering I could only move about two inches before coming up against the far side of the tub.

“Coco sent me up here with the towels.” He inclined his head toward the vanity where he’d placed the towels. He made no attempt at hiding the fact that he was staring down into the bubbles.

“Thank you for the towels. Now please get out.”

He didn’t move. His smile pushed a nice crease alongside his mouth that only added to its appeal. His eyes were a dark blue, framed by thick black lashes. Dark brown hair was just messy and long enough to make me take a long, steadying breath. The hair curled up nicely on the collar of his flannel shirt. For a brief, scandalous moment, I imagined running my hand through his thick head of hair.

My uninvited bath guest rested his chin on the edge of the tub, bringing his face even with mine. One foot closer and our mouths would be pushed together.

“Are you always this uptight when you’re soaking in a bubble bath?” he asked.

“Only when I have a big, intimidating stranger hanging on the edge of the tub.”

“I can’t do anything about the big, or intimidating”—he raised a brow about that assessment—“but—” He stuck out his hand. It was huge and looked as if it could wield a hammer as well as it could finger me into a raging orgasm. Whoa, where the heck did that erotic thought come from? Must have been the sugar high and the heady scent of lavender. The gorgeous man staring at me didn’t hurt either.

“I’m Grayson.”

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AboutTheAuthor

Tess Oliver

Tess Oliver is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Freefall.

She is a former teacher, who now dedicates her morning caffeine rush to writing romance instead of teaching math and reading. Tess lives in California, the land of perpetual sunshine and traffic, with her husband, kids and five dogs. She is a longtime romance junkie, who likes her hero to be an alpha with a twist of compassion and if he has long hair and rides a horse or a motorcycle all the better. She writes young adult, new adult and adult romance in both contemporary and historical settings. When she’s not reading or writing romance, she can be found hiking, vacuuming up dog hair or baking goodies for her family.

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Anna Hart

Anna Hart is the author of the sexy new romance series, Stepbrother Cowboy and Stepbrother Fighter. She writes edgy romances that are filled with bad boys, alpha males and plenty of steam.

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COVER REVEAL! ~*~ Mr and Mrs ~*~ by Alexa Riley!


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Release Day is April 13th, but you can add it to your goodreads shelf now.

 

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Phillip has been married to Molly for a year. He’s beyond obsessed with his new wife, to the point that he has to hold his true feelings back. If she knew how crazy he is for her, she might push him away.

 

Molly is feeling distance growing between them, and she’s worried she’s not enough. One night she walks in on Phillip, and it changes everything.

 

When Phillip discovers Molly was in an accident and now has amnesia, he’s going to do all he can to make her fall in love with him again. Holding nothing back this time.

 

Warning: It’s just as crazy as it sounds and just as over-the-top ridiculous. If you want to get silly with us and spend a little time away from reality, grab this one up!

 

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Alexa Riley is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.

They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!

Author Links

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Release Day Blitz! ~*~ Layers of Her ~*~ by Prescott Lane


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A Letter to my Readers

 

Rape. Just typing that word makes my gut tie up in knots. And that’s part of the problem.

Because it’s so uncomfortable, we don’t want to talk about it. So it gets buried at the bottom the newsfeed or forgotten altogether, like the backlog of untested rape kits.

Last March, I released Quiet Angel in which the heroine is a survivor of childhood sexual assault.

A few weeks later, my husband became gravely ill, and we spent the rest of the year (5 long

hospital stays and 4 long surgeries) fighting to regain his health. As I sat in the hospital chair

next to his bed night after night, I got messages from women about how my book touched them.

Some shared their reasons, and others didn’t.

I came to learn that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. How could I not know that? just released a book on the very topic. Yet I didn’t see one post about it on any of my social

media accounts.

Early this year, I began writing Layers of Her with the intent to spread awareness and donate of April’s profits to charity. I was nervous when I started, and I still am. I mean, how much the profits be? Will readers assume I’m a survivor or I know one? Will I do the topic justice?

Why am I doing this? It’s a whole lot easier to stay silent. But that’s the whole problem, isn’t I work in a field, in the genre of fiction, that is mostly comprised of women, where sexual assault

is one of the most common tropes. And with each passing page, we pull for our broken heroes

and heroines to heal, find love, forge a new path. That’s all we want for them. We need to do same for the real life heroes and heroines, those brave souls who fight the real fight every single

day. So join me this April in making some noise to raise awareness, not only for the survivors

but for those who love them.

 

Prescott

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  

 

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People always say it’s what’s on the inside that matters. If that’s the case, I’m screwed. On the outside, everything looks put together — blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and lean. By society’s standards, I’d be considered attractive. But f*ck society, I know what I am. I know what I’m made of. The recessive genes that reared their heads and created a decent looking package on the outside don’t make me who I am. What about all the evil lurking inside? What about all the other parts of me that aren’t so easy to see? Some of the most beautiful animals are also the deadliest. Take the polar bear, for example. Cute and cuddly on the outside, but it’s really a predator that will bite your f*cking head off. That’s a dangerous combination.

 

And that’s exactly like me, exactly who I am. Bad — and once you go bad, you can never go back.

 

WARNING: This book deals with the harsh reality of rape that could be upsetting for some readers.

 

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“What made you come for me?” she asks.  I tell her my theory about men making decisions based on one of three body parts — head, heart, dick.  “So which led you to my house tonight?” she asks.

 

“Let’s just say two out of three ain’t bad.”

 

Her giggle fills up the room.  “Stone?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Don’t let me forget.”  

 

“Forget what?”

 

“How good I feel right now,” she says.

 

I know exactly what she’s feeling.  She doesn’t think she deserves to be happy.  It’s a constant waiting on the other shoe to drop so you can prove to yourself that all the bad shit you fill your head with is true.  That you’re bad, and that’s why bad things happen around you, or to those you love.  Dealt with that myself when Tate got her diagnosis.  Who am I kidding?  I still fight those demons, knowing she’s suffering because of my mistakes.  Self-blame is a bitch.  Self-hatred is even worse.  Guess I’ll just have to teach Campbell to love herself as much as I love her.

 

Yeah, yeah, it’s fast.  But how long does it really take to fall in love with someone?  A minute?  An hour?  A day?  A year?  For me, it took exactly one kiss.  The moment her lips touched mine in that hospital room, I was gone.  

 

Besides, what do you really have to know about a person to love them?  Not a damn thing other than how they make you feel when you close your eyes at the end of the day with them wrapped in your arms.

 

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Prescott Lane is the author of First Position, Perfectly Broken, and her new release, Quiet Angel. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College with a degree in sociology. She went on to receive her MSW from Tulane University, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren’t enough happily ever afters in real life.

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BLOG TOUR! *~*Sliding Down The Sky*~* by Amanda Dick


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Release Date April 11th

 

Pre-order links

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Add to your goodreads shelf now

 

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Callum Ferguson has grown up in the shadow of the sins of his father. The worst moment of his life came not at the age of sixteen, when he threw his father out of the house, but later in life, when he realised he was just like him. With a predilection for alcohol and violence, he sees his destiny every time he looks in the mirror.

 

Sass Hathaway, hell-raiser and successful musician, thrived in the limelight – until one night she lost it all. Drowning in an ocean of uncertainty, nursing a crippling case of self-loathing, her brother offers her a chance to find herself again.

 

His idea of salvation is a dilapidated bar. His proposal; she help him and his wife renovate and run it. However, when she and Callum cross paths, they both discover that salvation comes in many forms.

 

You can’t escape your past, you can only come to terms with it so that you can move on – but accepting your past is only the beginning. Then you must decide whether you’re strong enough to follow your heart.

 

(This can be read as a stand-alone, but reading ‘Absolution’ is recommended in order to get the most out of this story).   

 

 

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 Desperate for an excuse to escape, I picked up my plate and headed inside with it. I slammed it on the kitchen counter and tried to breathe evenly, all the while talking myself down. I was jealous. That’s what it was. What was I doing wrong? Why couldn’t that be me? Where on earth was I going to find strength like that?

“Hey.”

I didn’t even hear Callum follow me, but when I turned around, he was standing in the doorway, watching me.

“Hi.”

I turned my back on him, picking up my plate and rinsing it in the sink.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

Such bullshit, but what else was I going to say? Suddenly, the water turned hot and I dropped the plate with a muffled curse, burning my fingers.

“Shit,” he said, at my side in a flash. “Here, hold it here.”

He turned the cold water on and shoved my hand under the stream. The relief was instant, although it didn’t help my mood. He was too close to me, his body blocking me from behind, his hand still holding mine under the water. I could smell him, his personal scent a peculiar mix of engine oil and cologne. It drove me wild, and also ripped me open.

One minute, I wanted to cry. The next, I wanted him to kiss me. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Promise me something,” he said huskily, his face so near mine.

I didn’t want to promise him anything. My first instinct was to say that, but I fought it because I was curious.

“Promise me you won’t lie to me anymore, no matter what,” he said, his other hand slipping between my arm and my body and settling on my hip. I could feel it burning through my jeans, right through to the skin. I had visions of last night, of how gentle his hands were. They fascinated me. Despite their size, and rugged outward appearance, they were tender, careful. I was beginning to think his hands were a metaphor for his personality.

His breath fanned against my neck. I had no idea if he was doing it on purpose or not, but it made it nearly impossible to draw a steady breath.

“When I ask you if you’re okay,” he continued, his breath igniting the fire inside me, the one I’d thought was long since dead. “Don’t lie to me and say you’re fine when you’re not. I might be a lot of things, but I’m not an idiot. Let’s make a pact, right now. Just the truth from here on in. Okay?”

My heart thundered in my ears. Part of me wanted to fidget and pull away and get some space between us, because I’d almost convinced myself that’s what I needed. Space, room to breathe, to move, to think.

Another part of me wanted him to kiss me, just like he had last night, because that’s what made me forget everything else. That’s what made me feel like a real person, like a whole person.

I sucked in a shaky breath. My body was on fire, and it had separated from my brain. One wanted him to come closer, it didn’t care what he said. The other wanted to push him away, because what he was suggesting was a step too far.

“Okay?” he asked again, his hand squeezing my hip gently.

God help me, I nodded.

 

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Amanda Dick is a night-owl, coffee addict, movie buff and music lover. She loves to do DIY (if it’s not bolted down, she’ll probably paint it, re-cover it or otherwise decorate it) and has tried almost every craft known to man/womankind. She has two sewing machines and an over-locker she can’t remember how to thread. She crochets (but can’t follow a pattern), knits (badly) and refrains from both as a public service.

She believes in love at first sight, in women’s intuition and in following your heart. She is rather partial to dark chocolate and believes in the power of a good vanilla latte.

What lights her fire is writing stories about real people in trying situations. Her passion is finding characters who are forced to test their boundaries. She is insanely curious about how we, as human beings, react when pushed to the edge. Most of all, she enjoys writing about human behaviour – love, loss, joy, grief, friendship and the complexity of relationships in general.

After living in Scotland for five years, she has now settled back home in New Zealand, where she lives with her husband and two children.

Her debut novel, “Absolution”, was released on 29 October 2013 (with the second edition releasing on 6 January 2015). Her second novel, “Between Before and After”, was released in May 2014. Her third novel, “Into the Void”, is scheduled to release in July 2015.

Author Links

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CHAPTER REVEAL! ** Possess ** by Kaye Blue


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Expected Publication April 27, 2016

 

Pre-order links

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  Nook  Kobo IBooks

 

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No weakness.

Maxim has stayed alive—and on top—for twenty years through a ruthless combination of brains and brutality. He’s grown the Syndicate into one of the world’s most powerful criminal enterprises.

He cares for no one.

Except her.

The woman he never should have saved…the one who holds the remnants of his long-dead heart.

No limits.

Senna doesn’t know why Maxim spared her all those years ago, or why he’s kept her by his side. But she does know that nothing—not his beautiful cruelty, not the black void where his heart should be—can stop her from loving him. Wanting him.

Even though she shouldn’t.

No turning back.

Years of obsession sharpen to a knife’s edge when Senna begins to crave her freedom. And when an old rival discovers her existence, Maxim must fight to keep her alive, even as he battles his need to possess her completely…no matter the cost.

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Prologue

Ten Years Ago…

He stepped over the first body, careful to avoid the blood that pooled around it.

It was best not to make a mess, but as he looked around the room, his disgust rising with every passing second, he was reminded that the man who had come here before him not only had no concerns about making a mess, he reveled in doing so.

He looked around the room again, his face muscles twisting with his displeasure at what he saw. A small, tidy family room, pictures on the wall, a TV in one corner. The TV still played, but the screen was dimmed by the splattered blood that covered it.

He moved deeper into the house and maneuvered around the woman who lay in the middle of the floor.

He didn’t have to look closely to know that she, like the man at the door, was dead, so after a brief glimpse at her stiff, glassy-eyed face, he turned his attention to the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Get out here, you little bitch!”

He face muscles twisting even more, he focused on the man who had bellowed those words in a voice that vibrated with rage, menace, and more than a hint of excitement.

Santo Carmelli had centered himself in the narrow hallway, blocking any chance of exit. He was also frothing at the mouth, his entire body seeming to expand with rage—and anticipation—with each breath he took.

No different than usual, except now that Santo had had a taste of the violence he seemed to feed on, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d had his fill. And when Santo was like this, the two he’d already killed wouldn’t be nearly enough.

“No more, Santo. Let’s go,” Maxim said, keeping his voice calm, disinterested, and not letting his irritation come through, difficult as it was to hide it.

If Santo heard, he gave no indication, too far gone in the bloodlust that made him so valued by his superiors and such a pain in Maxim’s ass.

Santo let out an animalistic growl and began stomping down the hallway, uncaring of the gore that coated his shoes and hands.

Maxim didn’t follow immediately, and instead debated whether he should just end this now.

Santo, never a reasonable man, had gotten worse. Much worse. And it always fell on Maxim to clean up his messes, a task Maxim had more than tired of, a task made that much worse by Santo’s sloppiness and his inability to think when he was like this.

Maxim lifted his hand to the small but lethally sharp knife he kept in his waistband.

Finally being rid of Santo would be a relief, and would allow him to focus on more pressing issues. Santo was so distracted it would be easy to get close. Two quick slashes, and one of Maxim’s biggest annoyances and biggest potential rivals would be eliminated.

A tempting prospect, but one Maxim disregarded.

He was close, and all the pieces he needed for his takeover were in place. In a few weeks, the Syndicate would be his.

Then he’d deal with the Santo problem.

Until then…

“Santo,” he said, still calm, tone not betraying how close he’d been to ending Santo’s life.

His voice must have penetrated Santo’s blind rage, for he turned and looked at Maxim.

“Fuck off, Maxim. I’m busy,” he yelled.

“I can see that,” Maxim replied. “Busy and too fucking crazy to do this right. Go now, Santo.”

He shook his head. “No fucking way. She’s back there somewhere trying to hide from me.” As Santo spoke, he glared down the hallway, yelling even louder. Then, he looked back at Maxim, eyes wild with uncontrolled rage. “You think I’m letting this go? That bitch scratched me!” he said, gesturing at the gouges that marked his arms.

Good for her.

Santo probably hadn’t even felt it, but it was good that she’d fought back. Doing so had only pissed Santo off more, and only made Maxim’s already hard job harder, but Maxim didn’t care. A few scratches were nothing, but Maxim would welcome any victory against Santo, no matter how small and symbolic or how much it inconvenienced him.

“I’ll take care of it, Santo,” Maxim said, holding the other man’s gaze.

They were equals in the Syndicate, at least in name, and Maxim had no real authority to give orders, at least not yet. But while Maxim had no official authority over Santo, he had clout, influence, and support that Santo, despite how valued he was by certain members of leadership, did not. And even when he was like this, caught up in his rage and little else, Santo knew that.

Santo’s breath began to smooth out, some of the minuscule reason he had clearing the rage in his eyes.

He finally nodded. “You’re better at this than me anyway. Make it hurt,” he said as he brushed past Maxim and down the hall.

Maxim couldn’t really argue with Santo’s words. He was better, but he wasn’t a mad dog like Santo and he didn’t relish the idea of making someone suffer without good cause, wouldn’t do so simply because Santo had demanded it.

Once Santo was out of the house, Maxim began moving, only barely listening as the others who had entered began to clean the living room, instead focused on the hallway.

Three doors, all partially ajar, darkness spilling out from them.

Two bedrooms and a bathroom, Maxim assumed based on the layout common for houses in this area. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in a place like this, hunting for a person who’d had the misfortune of crossing the Syndicate’s, or Santo’s, path.

A shame, but a part of the job.

Maxim looked down the hall and quickly dismissed the door at the far end. If Maxim was right, and he’d been in this scenario far too many times to be anything else, the person Santo was chasing had planned to slip out behind him as he thrashed through the other rooms. So going to the far door wouldn’t give them the opportunity to get past him.

Which left the second bedroom or bathroom.

Both had merits.

The bedroom offered more places to hide, like the closets people were so fond of. But the bathroom had its own benefits. A window that might serve as an alternate escape, and all kinds of chemicals and cleaners that could do some damage if it came to that.

The scratches on Santo’s arms, the fact that she had gotten away, proved Santo’s prey was a fighter, so Maxim turned into the bathroom and pulled the floral shower curtain aside.

The girl was younger than him, twenty, maybe, and as he’d suspected, clutching a spray bottle of bleach so tightly that her brown fingers were turning white at the knuckles.

Her grip was so tight that it took a moment for her to react, but she did, loosening her hold and then squeezing the nozzle on the spray bottle. Her movements were jerky, panicked, and her aim was off, so the spray flew over Maxim’s shoulder and landed harmlessly behind him.

He glared at her, and her eyes widened but the rest of her body went stiff as she froze in place, staring back at him. Maxim watched her for a moment, two, saw as she debated whether to try to spray him again, saw her fingers twitch around the nozzle as she weighed the consequences of action or inaction.

Saw when she tightened her grip on the bottle.

She met his eyes, and Maxim stared back at her, curious as to what she would do. It felt like the longest time, but in reality it was only seconds. Long enough for Maxim to see that his perception of her as a fighter was true, and long enough for him to tire of their little standoff.

He pried the bottle from her hand and dropped it to the floor, staring at her, considering.

Her eyes were glassy and wet with unshed tears, but tears had long since lost the power to sway him. Maxim couldn’t say for sure if they ever actually had.

He watched her for a moment longer, unmoving. Everything he knew said he should have reached for his knife.

He didn’t.

Instead he grabbed the hand that had been holding the bleach and pulled her out of the shower.

She stared up at him, blinking rapidly, and Maxim could see the beat of her pulse at the base of her throat.

“Are you going to k-kill me?” she asked in a low whisper.

No witnesses. No loose ends. She was both.

The answer was easy.

Yes.

Maxim looked at her eyes again and then shook his head.

“No.”

 

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Kaye writes hot, gritty, suspenseful romance featuring alpha males and the women who love them.

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Release Blitz! ~*~ Impact ~*~ by K.A. STERRITT!

 

 

 

Title: Impact

Series: The Fight for Life Series #2

Author: K.A. Sterritt

Genre: Contemporary Romance

 Release Date: April 8, 2016

 

 

Blurb

“Since the moment our lives collided, I knew you were it for me. The impact was a once in a lifetime event.” – Leo Ashlar.

 

Leo might still be an undefeated fight club champion, but his past has brought him to his knees. When the one person he had successfully avoided for five years is thrust back into his life, the broken pieces he’d tried to glue back together shatter in an instant.

 

Juliette Salinger has taken control of her life, but that doesn’t mean she’s in for a smooth ride. She can’t give up on her family and she’ll fight for Leo with everything she has.

 

With Juliette now caught in the middle, Leo will need to find a way to protect the woman he loves whilst trying to shield himself from any further damage.

 

Fight or flight? The impact of either option could be deadly.

 

 

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Author Bio

K.A. Sterrritt was born and raised in Australia. With a passion for reading from a very young age, writing was a natural progression. She lives in Sydney with her husband and three sons.

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