Posted in Book Tour

Million Miles Away Alice Bane

Million Miles Away
Alice Bane
(Million Miles, #1)
Publication date: October 5th 2019
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Science Fiction

For the past year, sleep paralysis has been little more than a thorn in Natalia’s side. That is, until she meets Korin, a strange but beautiful alien being who makes her question everything she knows about the universe.

Life-changing love almost feels like an invasion.

I won’t bore you with details about the mysterious medical issues I’ve had over the last year;

the sudden severe allergies to food and medication, the sleep paralysis. All I’ll tell you is that they turned my life upside down.

But I’m a rational person.

Naturally, I assumed that my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw the strange figures standing over me.

But it felt so freakishly real;

especially one face in particular that always stayed with me long after I woke up.

Something about him always drew me in and I knew he was different. He made me feel different.

All my life, romance has felt like something that was reserved for everyone but me. I’d accepted that the only love in my life would be experienced through my artwork.

Now I’m questioning everything I know about myself, about reality, and especially about love.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

The girls would always tease me about how put together my life was. Sure, it looked good on paper; top-rated artist in my department, an amazing house which I always kept immaculate, and when I wasn’t working, I was at the gym. They seemed to think that I had a perfect life. They had no idea how much I envied them. They both had incredible relationships with gorgeous men who doted on them endlessly. They were always commenting on how jealous they were of my body, but they also never missed a chance to eat delicious foods that I couldn’t so much as smell without getting sick. They didn’t realize that my house was always clean because it was empty and sterile; just like the rest of my life.

I didn’t even have a pet. Ever since little Ivan died, I accepted that I wasn’t pet owner material. If I couldn’t keep a goldfish alive, what chance did I have with a more complex and emotionally dependent animal? Besides, with my work schedule, it would be cruel to even try.

“Before we get started with what we’ve got on today, I need to ask you guys a really important favor,” Abiola said, circling the desk to take both mine and Laura’s hands in hers. “The two of you have been such a huge part of my life. You’ve been there for me through all my family drama and I couldn’t love you more if you were my flesh and blood sisters.”

“Abi,” Laura pushed out her bottom lip. “That’s the sweetest thing you could possibly say.”

“Well, I would be so honored if the two of you would be my bridesmaids this spring. Please say yes!”

The three of us all wrapped our arms around each other in a sickeningly sweet display of female solidarity. I forced a smile and swallowed the lump in my throat as I imagined walking down the aisle on the arm of some random groomsman who had a wife or girlfriend somewhere in the church. This would be the second time I was a bridesmaid at someone’s wedding. The old saying ‘three times a bridesmaid, never a bride’ rang out in my mind.

“I would love to be a bridesmaid at your wedding,” Laura crooned.

I mustered the minimal amount of excitement I could get away with for the situation and said, “Me too. I love you, woman,” then patted Abiola on the back.

Abiola nodded and wiped at eyeliner from beneath her watering eyes. She was an old soul with a soft heart. She spent her weekends volunteering at a children’s group home. That was where she met her fiancé Trevor, and they bonded over their dysfunctional family situations. They would probably adopt a bunch of foster kids right after their wedding and live happily ever after. She deserved that; it was all she ever wanted.

“Okay ladies,” Abiola clapped her hands. “Today we’re looking for something we can use for the promotion of the OSA campus, which will be opening next year in Portland, Oregon. Boss says our primary focus is to attract engineering and architectural students for the Lunar-retreat that’s in the works.”

“So, where do we start?” Laura said, looking right at me.

“I am going to need to work up some concept drawings for the Lunar Resort. Also, if you could give me the clearest photos of the most beautiful views the Lunar Surface has to offer, that would be cool to show exactly what the students should be aspiring to be a part of. I want to see some dramatic landscapes with visible craters, maybe some rock formations. Anything to pull people in.”

“I’m on it,” Laura nodded and sat down at her touch responsive computer.

“I’ll go to engineering to get permission to use blueprints of the resort that you can use to make the concept drawings,” Abiola said, then turned and headed towards the elevator.

It was an exciting project. I used to fantasize that by the time I was ready to retire, I would be able to cash in on all the vacation time I had accrued and maybe even spend a few of my golden years at that resort. The thought of waking up in the morning and looking out the window to see the Earth just as we see the moon from down here always gave me a sense of calm.

Four hours later, all final decisions had been made on what I wanted to use on the project. Right on cue, my trusty assistants started complaining that they were starving to death.

“If I don’t get some corned beef nachos in me in the next ten minutes, I might actually die,” Laura said and stood up dramatically from her desk.

“I want waffles and bacon,” Abiola rubbed her belly.

I sighed at the memory of bacon; I would probably just have some raw vegetables and berries. I was still looking at my screen and inspecting one of the photos, trying to decide on how I would alter the image to bring it to life. My eyes burned. I clenched them shut and rubbed them, forcing them to rest. Eye strain was the enemy and this day was proving to be particularly difficult since I had hardly slept the night before. I couldn’t shake my anxiety about today’s social gathering after work. Stress and lack of sleep usually meant a big fat migraine, which was the last thing I needed at Laura’s party.

“I’m going to head to the chill room. I need a nap more than anything.”

“You better be rested for tonight’s festivities,” Laura wagged her finger at me.

“I’ll bring my party face, I promise,” I said. I stood up but couldn’t stop the oncoming yawn. “The fatigue is killing me.”

“Yeah, no coffee or sugar in your morning will do that to you,” Abiola said with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well, it’s easy since a cup of coffee could put me in the hospital again, I guess.”

“Jesus,” Abiola pressed her fist to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine, Abi,” I assured her. “I just need to get a little rest.”

The two girls headed down to the food court while I made my way to the sleeping pods. White, plush, and stacked like a honeycomb, they were an inviting image that screamed comfort. I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief to find my favorite lower level pod was unoccupied. Turning on the sound system, I selected a playlist I knew I could sleep through. Sometimes I would choose guided meditation tracks or audiobooks. Today’s selection was soft cello. Something about the deep tones helped me unwind no matter what was on my mind. I settled in, turning on the heated cushions and closing my eyes.

I practiced the deep breathing exercises the doctor had taught me as I pictured myself floating through a dark endless sky toward the moon’s surface. The pictures I had looked at for over four hours served to be the subject of my meditation. I inhaled deeply, focusing on relaxing my arms and legs. Exhaling, I imagined moving further out into space. In… and out…

As soon as sleep found me, I was swept up in a flurry of blinding light. My stomach turned as the light began strobing violently, causing me to feel disoriented. My body tensed as I realized it had been several weeks since I’d had an episode. Right on schedule, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Oh no, no, no, no… I can’t deal with this right now, not at work!

I struggled to wake myself, I couldn’t move. The cold sensation of a smooth metallic surface beneath me was confusing. I felt my fingertips twitch as I tried desperately to flail any and all limbs that might respond to my will, but my body remained where it was. I strained to sit up or scream, but I couldn’t even open my mouth. I was trapped, overwhelmed by the weight of my chest collapsing in on itself. If I didn’t put every ounce of will I possessed into sucking air through my nostrils, I had a very real fear that my body would simply shut down, leaving my body as a cold stiff corpse which might be found hours later in my cozy little pod. Filling my lungs with intention, I gasped for air, breath after panicked breath, hoping someone would notice and wake me.

The strobing intensified for what felt like several minutes and when it finally stopped, there remained a constant blinding light that made my eyes water. Tears streamed from the outer corners of my eyes into my ears.

“Help… me…” I managed to whisper to no one in particular.

From the edge of my vision, a blurry figure leaned over me.

“Please,” I sobbed, trying to turn my head to get a better look at who it was, but I couldn’t.

My chest burned as my heart pounded out of control. I tried to calm myself by reciting the scientific facts about what I knew was happening.

During REM sleep, your muscles are essentially turned off to keep you from sleepwalking. When a person wakes up during REM, they are fully conscious but completely paralyzed. Usually, physical stimulation from someone rubbing or shaking them will pull the victim out of the purgatorial state. Unfortunately, living alone means I have no one to rescue me during these episodes, which can sometimes last for hours.

“Just close your eyes. Everything will be okay,” a distorted voice spoke through the fog of my half-conscious state.

Maybe my brain is morphing the cello music into a voice. Sleep paralysis is often accompanied by waking dreams or hallucinations, after all.

I thought I could force myself to come out of it but, instead, I moved even deeper into unconsciousness. It wasn’t like falling, but more like being underwater and sinking slowly. I struggled against what felt like a chemically induced calm. I tried again to force myself awake but couldn’t. The darkness swallowed me up and I finally surrendered to it.

To my surprise, I suddenly found myself vividly aware of two things; one, the fact that I was breathing without much effort, and two, I was no longer in my cushioned sleeping pod, but rather stretched out flat on my back on a cold metal surface. All efforts to move just made me realize that what I was experiencing was very different from the sleep paralysis I was familiar with. I could move my fingers and flex my wrists and feet. There were actual physical restraints fastened around my wrists, neck, forehead, and ankles that were preventing me from moving.

Blinking hard, I strained to look around at my surroundings. The entire room was reflective as if every surface and object was made from surgical steel. It was shockingly cold, almost like the inside of a walk-in refrigerator. I grunted, twisting my wrists in hopes that I could slip out the straps.

There was a continuous hum that was so low I didn’t hear it so much as felt it vibrating through my entire body. There was a spherical light that seemed to be floating in the air a few feet over me. The ceiling was high above that and almost too dark for me to make out anything but the vague shape of what might have been a reflection of myself and the rest of the room around me. I strained to see past the light so I could study what else I could make out in the reflective ceiling. My heart pounded in my ears as my attention was drawn to a distorted human shape in the darkness at my side.

A chill spread through my body as I realized that someone, or something, was quietly watching me struggle but I couldn’t for the life of me work out who, as the silhouette disappeared from my view the moment I noticed it. Even when I turned my eyes as far as I could, the dark corners of the room remained completely obscured. Regardless of the deafening silence and the fact that I couldn’t see anyone, I knew someone was there.

 

Author Bio:

Alice Bane holds a BSc and a voracious interest in all things extra-terrestrial. Self-identifying as a citizen of the universe, she has opted to travel the cosmos through her words. Million Miles Away is her debut Sci-Fi Romance novel.

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Posted in Book Tour, Uncategorized

Roughing the Kicker Eden Butler

Roughing the Kicker
Eden Butler
(Saints and Sinners #2)
Publication date: July 31st 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Sports, Suspense

Reese Noble chased this dream for a decade.

Now it was here.

The NFL.

A pro career.

All eyes on the league’s new kicker.

Millions of people expecting her to fail.

But Reese wasn’t a novelty and the spot she landed on the New Orleans Steamers was one she planned to keep.

With her teammates giving her hell and the world doubting her every move, Reese will have to fight harder than anyone else to make her dream a reality.

Even if that means following the lead of Quarterback Ryder Glenn —the only man who brought her to the edge of ecstasy and the depths of heartbreak. The same man who broke her heart ten years before.

In this city, there is a thin line between sin and sainthood and only the strongest can walk it.

The Sinners and Saints series is a spin off from the Thin Love series and in the same universe.

SAINTS AND SINNERS READING ORDER

Last Love of Luka Hale

Roughing the Kicker

Offsides

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Only 99 cents for a limited time!

EXCERPT:

Reese wasn’t restless—she was euphoric.

She was also a little hurt.

Ryder had stood next to her during most of the game, passing along details about Carolina’s defense, things he thought she should know when she got her shot at a field goal. Their quick exchange about being friends had stood, something that surprised Reese, but Ryder had seemed a little uncomfortable around her. He wouldn’t stand too close, would lean away from her when she asked him a question or two.

Maybe he was distracted by the game. Maybe some part of him still regretted the kiss in the gym. Whatever his reason, Ryder had only looked her way when she came off the field after her last kick, not checking to see if she was okay or getting the rundown on what the blocker had said to her. He hadn’t even joined in with the rest of the team after the game to celebrate their win.

It was Ryder and his weird behavior that distracted Reese as she sat behind the piano, staring down at the keys. She was debating another song, maybe something a little faster than Morrison’s melancholy ballad, when the bench she was sitting on slid against the floor and Ryder dropped down next to her, his back against the keys. Several notes crashed together as he leaned back, and Reese caught the distinct smell of hard liquor coming off him like gasoline from a pump.

“Evening, Noble,” he said, that crooked smile lazy.

“Captain,” she replied moving over to give him room. He watched her shift her position, gaze on her legs when she pulled her skirt down, but otherwise Ryder didn’t speak. The silence went on for so long that Reese tried ignoring it, resting her fingers against the keys as a distraction. “Any requests?”

“How about, ‘Thinking Bout You?’”

“Talking about anyone in particular?” She banged out the first chords of Pearl Jam’s “Come Back” and ignored the low snorting laugh he released. Her back straight, Reese leaned over the keys, playing the chord lower. “I did hear that your girlfriend was at the game. She still around?”

“Is Baker?”

Reese stopped playing, taking her fingers from the keys to turn toward Ryder. “You trying to imply something?”

“Big guy like that saving the day? Lot of women would be flattered.”

Reese tightened the muscles at her jaws, trying hard to control her mounting temper. “I wonder if you’d say that to Wilkens or any other kicker that was new to your team. You know…if they had a dick.”

“Careful, Noble. We’re just having a friendly chat about your potential plans with one of our teammates.”

She ignored him, returning her focus to the keyboard beneath her fingers, not caring that Ryder watched her, that he leaned closer as she played. He smelled of bourbon—and nothing like the good stuff Reese had brought for her new teammates that first night at Decadence.

“You were good,” he said, and Reese’s playing slowed, but she didn’t ask him to explain the compliment. After a few more chords, she didn’t have to ask him a thing. “The kicks were golden, and you handled the bullshit like a pro.”

“Careful, Glenn, you might be paying me a compliment on accident.”

“Accidently on purpose,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, not looking her. “I always thought Coach should have let you and Witherspoon run that fake back in school.”

Reese frowned, surprised that Ryder remembered the play. She and Witherspoon, the punter, had devised something sneaky that would have landed Duke an easy score because no one would expect Reese to do more than kick the ball. The first time they’d practiced it, Ryder had clapped, laughing like a fool at how quickly the play worked. Her father, on the other hand, hadn’t been impressed.

Papa thought it was cheap.” Next to her she felt the bench move as Ryder looked up at her, still resting against his knees. She didn’t like his cool quietness or how the man kept staring at her like he expected something remarkable to happen. “He didn’t like fakes.”

“Yeah,” Ryder said, sitting up. He leaned so close to Reese now that she couldn’t play anything. “Like how you fake me out all the time?”

She jerked her attention to him, that dimming temper beginning to rise again. “The hell is that supposed to mean, cabrón?

Ryder tilted his head, his breath hot, bourbon-soaked when he whispered against her mouth. “Kiss me and walk away. Tempt me and ignore everything between us.”

Reese leaned back, needing space. “You said there was no everything between us anymore. Remember that?”

“Maybe,” he continued, moving a hand to her face, pressing his palm against her cheek. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I don’t like seeing you without me. Maybe I’m drunk and being an asshole.”

“Maybe,” she said, insides lit with something that liquefied her patience. “You should stop being such a selfish prick and remember that you left me. I owe you nothing, Ryder.” She pulled his hand from her face and stood up, grabbing her bag before she glared down at him. “Not one damn thing.”

There was relief as she walked away, that no one was there to witness one of America’s favorite quarterbacks acting like an ass. Reese knew Ryder was a good guy. Other than how things had ended with them, Ryder had always been a decent person who’d never intentionally hurt anyone.

He was just drunk, she told herself, hearing the click of her own heels as she walked toward the elevator. Drunk and stupid, for some reason, about shit that died a long time ago.

“No,” she said to no one in particular. “Damn that.”

Her temper now a blistering inferno, Reese weighed the wisdom of turning back to find Ryder and scream at him. She didn’t care if he was drunk. She didn’t care if had trouble dealing with her being on his team and the memories of all the sins they’d committed together in the past.

“Grown ass man supposed to be…”

“Supposed to be what?” he said, coming up behind her just as the bell for the elevator chimed.

“Leave me alone,” she told him, intending to walk away, but Ryder took her arm, moving her against him and shuffling them both into the empty elevator.

“I can’t seem to do that, now can I, Noble?”

He rested them against the wall, the dim light overhead flickering as the elevator moved. Reese didn’t know what to think of Ryder like this. She didn’t appreciate him blaming her for things that weren’t her fault. She didn’t like the jealous ex-boyfriend attitude from him because it made him look petty.

But God did it feel good to see him making a move right toward her. It was good to feel wanted—desired—after such a long time of nothing special at all.

“You’re confused,” she told him, making a vain attempt to push him back. Ryder didn’t budge, and if she was honest with herself, she was glad he didn’t. He smelled like cheap bourbon and expensive cologne. Both scents worked some kind of seduction on her senses that had her heart hammering and a wicked, sweet tingle thrilling between her legs. “You never dealt with…everything, and now I’m here, a daily reminder. That’s all this is.” He moved closer, hand against her face again, thumb under her bottom lip as he watched her.

Ryder was tempting, even if he was blitzed out of his head. He never lost control. He never let his composure slip, and just then, while he moved closer, right hand slipping to Reese’s thigh, fingertips against the bare skin he brushed along the back of her leg, Reese understood that this was him doing exactly what he wanted.

“This isn’t real…” she tried, going quiet when he curled his fingers higher up her leg and pressed her right against his hard dick.

“That feel real enough for you?” It did. It felt like perfection. It felt real and ready and everything Reese had been missing for the past ten years. When she didn’t speak, was able only to make stupid, small noises of protests she didn’t mean to leave her mouth, Ryder took advantage and angled her head up, putting her waiting mouth close enough for him to take. “Thought so,” he said, closing the small space between them to kiss her.


Author Bio:

Eden Butler is a writer of contemporary, fantasy and romantic suspense novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum.

When she’s not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, reads, and spends too much time in her garden perfecting her green thumb while waiting for the next New Orleans Saints Superbowl win.

She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana.

Please send help.

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Posted in Cover Reveal

Hula Girl Author: Lara Ward Cosio

 

 

Title: Hula Girl
Author: Lara Ward Cosio
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Design: Chloe Bell Arts

Release Date: November 7, 2019

 

Blurb
What happens in Maui, stays in Maui. Unless you run into your
vacation fling back home.
Much to her annoyance, workaholic lawyer Ava Ruiz is forced
to take a vacation to a tropical paradise. Unable to tear her mind off her
cases, she’s counting down the days until she can go back to work.
Until she meets Ford. 
Admittedly, she has nothing in common with the gorgeous
surfer. She’s type-A and he’s the definition of laid-back. But for a few steamy
days, that fails to matter thanks to their instant and undeniable
attraction. 
Inevitably, all good things must come to an end . . . or do
they? 
Once back to their “real world” lives, Ava and
Ford come face-to-face in a surprise reunion that takes a turn when he asks her
to help him out by playing along with a fake engagement. Reluctantly going
along with the ruse, Ava soon finds herself wondering if either of them are
pretending, after all. 
Fans of sizzling vacation romance will find themselves
swooning over Hula Girl! 

 

Pre-order Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Excerpt
After showering and grabbing a quick breakfast of local Maui
fruits and coffee, it’s still only seven o’clock. That means another long day
stretches out in front of me.
Before I can convince myself otherwise, I call for my rental
car at the valet and set off in search of a store to buy a laptop, not even
thinking of the fact that such stores wouldn’t be open at this hour. 
A working vacation is better than nothing, I rationalize as
I fiddle with the GPS. I’m not all that far from the hotel when I realize I’ve
started off in the wrong direction. I have to go several miles more before I
can find a spot to make a U-turn. Just as I get going on the road that will
lead me to some kind of civilization, a chicken appears in front of me. 
Yes, a chicken.
There are tons of wild chickens that roam all over the
island, and everyone just lets them be. It’s a little weird.
This particular chicken startles me so much that I slam on
the brakes and swerve onto a dirt road, not wanting to hit it. Coming to a
stop, I try to catch my breath. My adrenaline is pumping. 
Over a chicken. 
Laughing, I shake my head.
Once more, however, I need to find a spot to turn around. I
slowly continue down the rust-colored dirt path. The road isn’t wide enough to
make an easy turn, so I keep going, hoping it will open up. On either side of
the road, tall green grass cast golden by the morning sunlight, waves in the
breeze. It feels like it’s just me out here, and for a moment, I don’t mind. I
don’t think about my mission to go find a laptop. I don’t think about how much
longer I have to stay on vacation. I don’t think about the
mistakes I made. Instead, I roll down my window and put my arm out, letting my
fingers graze the tips of the grass as I go unhurriedly by. 
It’s a fleeting moment of peace because soon I’ve come to
the end of the path. It overlooks the ocean from at least two stories above and
is a breathtaking vista. I drag my eyes away from the expansive blue water and
realize the area has opened up with plenty of room to make a U-turn, even with
the handful of other cars parked there.
I decide I’d better use this opportunity to get a better
sense of where I’m going. Parking the car, I grab my cell phone and step out.
The salty air is humid as I watch the scattering of surfers down below. A few
of them catch a long, rolling wave, but most hold back. It’s hard to tell from
here whether the waves would be considered “good.” What I can see is that there
are a lot of rocks, even a large outcropping, that must be avoided. It looks
dangerous, leading me to think that the surfers must be well experienced if
they’re out there.
Turning to my phone, I quickly find that I have absolutely
no service. I fiddle with it anyway, hoping that if I angle it one way or the
other, I’ll get a couple bars. Nothing. Desperate, I hold it up over my head
and wave it around a little.
“If you add a little hula dance, it just might work.”
I gasp at the suggestive words directed at me, turning to
find a grinning man to my left. It takes me a second to realize how foolish I
had probably looked as I contorted to try to find a signal on my phone and that
this stranger is teasing me over it.
Check that. 
This gorgeous stranger. 
The man is tall with lean, sculpted muscles straining
against his thin T-shirt, a chiseled jaw lightly covered by the scruff of a
beard, and defined cheekbones. His skin is tan, his eyes are pale brown with
gold flecks, and his medium-brown hair is on the shorter side and untamed. But
it’s his playful smile that does me in. And it’s the upturn at one corner of
his mouth that has me wanting to take a taste of his lips.
There’s an expression in Spanish that perfectly captures how
positively delicious someone like him is: es un mango.
He’s a mango. A sweet, juicy fruit.
“I was just playing,” he says, thankfully pulling me from my
completely inappropriate thoughts. “Odds are good you won’t be able to use that
thing out here, though. You need help with something?”
Uh, yeah, I need help. I need help pulling my tongue up off
the dirt and back into my mouth. Figuratively, at least. He is objectively the
finest man I’ve ever seen. And he’s left me speechless. I realize I must look
like one of those hyper-dramatic actresses in a telenovela, at a loss for words
when faced with a handsome stranger. I remind myself that I’m a thirty-year-old
attorney and that I need to snap out of it.
“No, no thank you,” I say, standing taller. “I’m fine.”
“You sure about that? You really seemed to want to get that
phone to work.”
God, even his voice is sexy. It’s deep, but with a hint of
raspiness.
I can’t remember the last time I was so intensely attracted
to someone. It sure wasn’t like this with Bryce. I mean, he checked all the
boxes: handsome, smart, in great shape. But there was no real heat between
us. 
And even though this stranger is still eyeing me with
amusement, waiting for me to answer and probably thinking I’m some sort of
flaky weirdo, heat is exactly what I feel between us.
“I, um,” I start. “I was on my way into town, actually. But
one of those crazy chickens ran me off the road, and I turned down here sort of
by accident.”
He laughs, but it doesn’t feel like it’s at my expense. Not
when his eyes are so warm, his expression so open. There’s something both
boyish and world-weary about him. The combination doesn’t make sense, but it is
incredibly compelling.
“Yeah, those chickens don’t exactly follow the rules of the
road.” He glances over my shoulder at the water, and I can tell he’s
anxious to be in it.
“Apparently not.”
His eyes drift back to mine. And then they slide downward,
surveying me. Every inch of me. 
The gauzy white slip dress I’d thrown over my ruby-red
bikini falls short against my thighs. I’ve always thought that my legs, shaped
by the quick, high intensity runs I squeeze into my schedule whenever possible
and accentuated by wedge sandals, are one of my best features. By the way this
gorgeous stranger is eyeing me, he would seem to agree.
“Listen, uh, I’d invite you to join me in the water down
there,” he says, tearing his eyes from me, “but it’s not the best place for a
casual swim.”
“That’s okay. I’m sort of on a mission, anyway.”
“Right. You said you were headed to town?”
“Yeah. I’m desperate to buy a laptop. I need to check in on
a case.”
“A case? That sounds like lawyer-speak. God, I hate
lawyers,” he says absently and I cringe. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice, as his
eyes have once more been drawn to the water below. “Uh, you’re not a lawyer,
are you?”
“A lawyer? Me? No. Um, nope.” Why I felt the instinct to lie
to him baffles me, but there it is. 
“Oh, good.” He graces me with that crooked grin once more.
“Well, Hula Girl, good luck with your mission.”
“Thanks.” That one word trails off prematurely as I watch
him pull his T-shirt off, revealing a chest that makes my mouth water. It’s
smooth, except for ridges of muscles. The exquisite definition I noticed
earlier in his arms is matched on his torso and even down to his hips where his
black and gray swim trunks are slung low enough to showcase a perfect V.
He turns to the bed of a Chevy pickup truck that has seen
better days and pulls a surfboard from it.
I hesitate longer than I should before forcing one foot in
front of the other toward my rental car.
“Oh, hey,” he calls out.
I whip around to face him once more.
“There’s a little place, a locals’ place for food and
drinks, called Makai’s. I’ll be there tonight after eight. Why don’t you stop
by? That is, if the chickens don’t run you off the road.”
His smile is a tease. A flirt. An invitation.
It makes me melt like a teenager. I struggle not to show the
effect he has on me. 
Clearing my throat, I give him a noncommittal shrug.
“Maybe.”
He nods before securing the surfboard under his arm and
making his way barefoot down a barely defined red-dirt trail.
Author Bio
Lara Ward Cosio is the author of contemporary romance books
that are raw, realistic, sometimes funny, and always feature swoon-worthy men
and strong-willed women. 
Author Links

 

Posted in Book Tour, Historical romance

how to Capture a Duke

Lady Olivia, the youngest sister of the Earl of Castleton, has no patience for the boring gentlemen of aristocratic society. She longs for a more adventurous life like the ladies who visit the Raven Club. But her plans are thwarted when her family drags her to a country house party to meet the elusive Duke of Keswick.

Tristan Cameron, the Duke of Keswick, finds Olivia in his stables. She believes him to be the stable master, and he doesn’t dissuade her of the notion. He has no interest in entertaining one of the spoiled, self-indulgent ladies who’ve invaded his home. Except, Olivia is neither of those things, and their shared kiss during a ride results in combustible passion.

And a potential scandal.

Olivia is relieved when the handsome stable master comes to her aid as her alibi, but that relief fades to anger when she suddenly finds herself betrothed to the harsh, foul-tempered duke.

Tristan believes he’s been trapped by a scheming, title-seeking lady. To make matters worse, she’s utterly captivating. He plans on leaving her behind in the country immediately after their vows, but Tristan soon finds himself battling temptation and Olivia’s stubborn determination to be the Duchess he doesn’t believe he deserves…

 

 

 

About the Book

How to Capture a Duke
by Tina Gabrielle

Series
Raven Club

Genre
Adult
Historical Romance

Publisher
Entangled Scandalous

Publication Date
October 14, 2019

Purchase Your Copy Today!
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HOW TO CAPTURE A DUKE
A Raven Club Novel

Copyright © 2019 by Tina Gabrielle

 

Anger bubbled inside Olivia, and she pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ve attended the Raven Club before, and if I choose to wager at one of the gaming tables with your cousin, I will do so. He is amicable and cordial, and I enjoyed his company this afternoon.”

Tristan’s expression turned fierce. “Just how much did you enjoy his visit?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

A dark shadow crossed his features. “I saw the way he looked at you. I saw, and I didn’t like it.”

Olivia’s breath stalled in her throat. Could he be jealous? But why? He didn’t want her, didn’t trust her. He had no right to be jealous, to prevent her from socializing with whom she wished, only to look at her as possessively as he did now.

He reached for a piece of hair that had escaped her pins and wrapped it around his finger. “My cousin is right. You are a beautiful woman.”

Tristan thought her beautiful? Her heart tripped in her chest. If he wasn’t standing so close, if the scent of his shaving soap didn’t tease her senses, and if she didn’t long to trace the breadth of his shoulders with her fingers, it would be much easier to maintain her cool facade. 

“Tristan, I—”

“Have you thought of our kiss the day we went riding?”

The question took her off guard. Had she thought of it? Yes, she had. Too much. The look in his dark eyes told her he was thinking of it right now. His gaze lowered to her mouth, and she licked her suddenly dry lips.

“I want to kiss you again. Now. If you don’t want it, then tell me to leave.”

Tell him to leave?

Olivia’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her eyes lowered to his mouth, to the firm lips that she knew firsthand could be tantalizingly soft. Curiosity bubbled inside her. Their stolen kiss in the country had been sweet and seductive and had left her longing for more. 

Would it be the same?

As if reading her thoughts, his gaze darkened, and he reached for her. She showed no resistance and met him halfway.

 

Tour Wide Giveaway

To celebrate the release of HOW TO CAPTURE A DUKE by Tina Gabrielle, we’re giving away a paperback copy of How to Best a Marquess by Tina Gabrielle to one lucky winner!

GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS:  Open to internationally. One winner will receive a paperback copy of How to Best a Marquess by Tina Gabrielle. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Entangled Publishing.  Giveaway ends 11/6/2019 @ 11:59pm EST.  CLICK HERE TO ENTER!

 

 

About Tina Gabrielle

Best-selling author TINA GABRIELLE is an attorney and mechanical engineer whose love of reading for pleasure helped her get through years of academia. She often picked up a romance and let her fantasies of knights in shining armor and lords and ladies carry her away. She is the author of adventurous Regency historical romances for Entangled Publishing and Kensington Books. Tina also writes best-selling cozy mysteries as Tina Kashian for Kensington Books.

Publisher’s Weekly calls her Regency Barrister’s series, “Well-matched lovers…witty comradely repartee.” Tina’s books have been Barnes & Noble top picks, and her first book, Lady Of Scandal, was nominated as best first historical by Romantic Times Book Reviews. Tina lives in New Jersey and is married to her own hero and is blessed with two daughters. She loves to hear from readers. Visit her website to learn about upcoming releases, join her newsletter, and enter free monthly contests at www.tinagabrielle.com

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This promotion is brought to you by Pure Textuality PR.