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#CoverReveal ~ Only One Woman by Christina Jones & Jane Risdon @AccentPress @bucolicfrolics @Jane_Risdon

Excited to show you the cover for Only One Woman .. I will be taking part in the blog tour later in the year 🙂 x

 

Ebook publication date: 23rd November 2017

Print publication date: 24th May 2018

Amazon link: Pre-Order Here

Two women, one love story.

June 1968. Renza falls head over heels for heartthrob guitarist Scott. But after a romantic summer together they are torn apart when Renza’s family moves away.

December 1968. On the night she believes to be her last, Stella meets Scott at a local dance. He’s the most beautiful boy she’s ever seen and if this one night is all they have, she’ll take it.

As the final colourful year of the sixties dawns, the question is: can there be only one woman for Scott?

Christina Jones                 

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Jane Risdon

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#CoverReveal #Extract ~ Deadly Intent by @SherylBrowne #Giveaway @ChocLituk @BrookCottageBks

Series: A DI Matthew Adams Thriller – Book #3 (can be read as a standalone)

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Release Date: September 6 2017

Publisher: Death by Choc Lit

18+ (some violence and language)

What if you and your family were at the mercy of a psychopath/a man with no conscience?

Just when DI Matthew Adams thinks he’s left the past behind him, it comes back to haunt him once again; this time in the form of the Conner family.

Like Matthew, the Conners have lost a child in tragic circumstances – and they’ve also found themselves in the hands of one of the most depraved criminals to walk the streets: ‘Dead-eyed’ Charlie Roberts, a drug addicted low-life with a penchant for extreme violence.

Matthew’s greatest affinity lies with Daniel Conner, the brooding father who still blames himself for his youngest child’s death. But when Daniel’s wife and daughter are tortured and tormented by Roberts, can Matthew prevent him from completely ruining his own life for an act of revenge particularly when, once upon a time, that’s exactly what Matthew would have done too?

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About the Author

Heartache, humour, love, loss & betrayal, Sheryl Browne brings you edgy, sexy, heart-wrenching fiction. A member of the Crime Writers’ Association, Romantic Novelists’ Association and shortlisted for the Best Romantic e-book Love Stories Award 2015, Sheryl has several books published and two short stories in Birmingham City University anthologies, where she completed her MA in Creative Writing.

Recommended to the publisher by the WH Smith Travel fiction buyer, Sheryl’s contemporary fiction comes to you from award winning Choc Lit.

Author Links

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EXTRACT

Daniel’s eyes flickered away from Charlie for a second. ‘Come on, baby, come out,’ he said to the daughter, who was standing hesitantly on the top step. ‘It’s safe now.’

‘Yeah, come on, baby,’ Charlie mimicked. ‘Come and join the party.’

Charlie stepped sideways, allowing the girl to exit, her eyes like a terrified Bambi’s and shaking as much as Danny boy, poor cow. Must be hereditary.

‘Give me a shout if you fancy another quick shag, sweetheart,’ Charlie called as she stepped onto the towpath.

A tic went at the side of Daniel’s mouth. He walked calmly over to Charlie and smiled, which had Charlie momentarily flummoxed, then pulled back the gun and rammed it hard into his stomach.

Matthew flinched as Charlie doubled up. ‘Ouch,’ he said under his breath. ‘Okay, Daniel,’ he said carefully. ‘I know how you must be feeling but you need to let him go now. He’ll get what’s—’

‘You have no fucking idea how I feel,’ Daniel shouted, glancing quickly at Jo. ‘The only way that bastard goes anywhere is feet first.’ He raked a hand angrily though his hair. ‘Got that, Charlie? Now, get down on your knees.’

Charlie looked up, astonished. ‘You must be joking. I ain’t—’

‘Do I look as if I’m joking?’ Daniel asked, his eyes burning with hatred.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Charlie uttered, turning to Matthew, his hands nursing his stomach.

‘On your knees, Charlie,’ Daniel repeated. ‘Now!’

Matthew dearly wished he could turn a blind eye as Roberts blinked at him beseechingly, and scared witless, satisfyingly. Unfortunately, as much as he would relish seeing the abusive piece of scum get a taste of his own, he couldn’t.

‘You need to drop the gun, Daniel,’ he said, moving cautiously towards the boat. ‘Leave him to me and get your wife and child—’

‘Don’t,’ Daniel warned, his eyes and the gun still fixed on Roberts. ‘Back off.’

Matthew hesitated, uncertain. God knows, the man had every reason to … But was Conner actually going to shoot Roberts?

‘I can’t do that, Daniel.’ Matthew stepped closer. ‘You know I can’t.’

‘Stay!’ Daniel shouted, swinging the gun around, then fast back to Charlie. ‘And you,’ he grated, ‘down on your knees, while you still can.’ He aimed the gun lower, which had Charlie dropping to his knees, fast.

‘Get them out of here,’ Matthew shouted, indicating Jo and Kayla over his shoulder. Roberts had pushed Conner right over the edge. He bloody well was going to shoot him. Christ, hadn’t this family already been through enough?

‘Daniel …’ Warning himself to tread carefully, empathising with the man more than he could possibly know, Matthew tried again. ‘You can’t take the law into your own hands.’ He stopped and waited, wondering whether Daniel, who was now swaying on his feet, could even hear him. ‘You have to do this the legal way. Please, give me the gun, Daniel.’

‘Can’t.’ Daniel closed one eye.

Matthew took a breath and stepped closer. ‘Why can’t you, Daniel?’ he asked quietly.

‘Three, two, one,’ Daniel replied, nonsensically.

‘Right.’ Matthew was scared for him now. If he used that gun with police marksmen aiming right at him … ‘Which means what, exactly, Daniel?’

Daniel shrugged. ‘Bang.’ He concentrated his aim.

‘Fuck,’ said Charlie, turning a pale shade of white. ‘Don’t, Danny,’ he pleaded.

Daniel cocked the gun.

‘Look, I didn’t touch your daughter—’

‘Shut the fuck up!’ Daniel yelled.

‘I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.’ Perspiration broke out on Charlie’s forehead. ‘Danny, please. I’m sorry. Okay? I—’

‘The name’s Daniel, not Danny. Not fucking Danny boy. Daniel! Got it?’

‘Yeah,’ Charlie nodded quickly. ‘Daniel. Whatever. Just put the gun down.’

Daniel continued to stare at him.

‘Shit. This is nuts.’ Charlie looked desperately to Matthew. ‘Do something! Don’t let them go!’ He nodded past him, to where the man’s wife and daughter weren’t being persuaded to leave. ‘He won’t do anything in front of them.’

That’s probably the first, and might well be the last, time you’ve said anything sensible in your entire life, you piece of shit. Matthew looked him over derisively. Conner cared about his family. They’d endured too much to go through any more. He must know it.

Matthew drew in a breath and then took a gamble. ‘Okay, Daniel. Fine. Do it,’ he said.

Charlie gawked.

‘Go ahead. Blow his brains all over the boat if it will make you feel better.’ Matthew paused for an instant. ‘And leave your wife wondering why you did it in front of your daughter. Whether to visit you in prison, when you didn’t care enough about her, or Kayla, not to.’

Daniel tightened his grip on the gun.

His hands were shaking, Matthew noticed. Shaking badly.

‘I have kids of my own, Daniel,’ he said softly, taking another careful step towards him.

Daniel’s shoulders stiffened.

‘I know you lost your little girl, Daniel.’ Seeing Daniel reel on his feet, Matthew pushed on and prayed. He needed to get through to him. Had to.

‘You think I can’t know how you feel, but … I lost my little girl too, Daniel,’ he confided, though it almost choked him to say it. ‘I do know at least some of how you feel.’

Still Daniel didn’t move, but Matthew saw a swallow slide down his throat.

‘That bastard has piled pain on top of pain, hasn’t he?’ Matthew kept going, touching raw nerves, he was well aware of that, but what other choice did he have? ‘Persecuted Kayla and Joanne? Taunted them. Touched them, Daniel?’

Daniel’s jaw tightened.

‘Dared you to do anything about it, so he could revel in his pathetic power and beat you senseless? I know him,’ Matthew said forcefully. ‘He’ll get what’s coming to him. But you have to stop this. Now, Daniel. For the sake of your wife and daughter. Show them you care enough not to put them through this.’

‘Jesus!’ Daniel leaned to wipe his perspiring face against his shoulder. ‘Of course I care!’ he raged frustrated, and obviously confused. ‘But he’ll get out, won’t he?’

A sharp cough rattled his chest.

‘Jo and my kids are my life. Jo and Kayla … Were my … I …’ Trailing off, Daniel closed his eyes.

And lowered the gun.

‘Hah.’ Charlie levered himself to his feet. ‘No bottle. Knew it. I’ll catch up with you when I’m out, Danny boy.’ He smirked, as Matthew climbed on board. ‘Keep that pretty wife of yours warm for me, won’t you?’

Daniel brought the gun back up sharp. ‘Say your fucking prayers, freak,’ he hissed.

STOP PRESS! Want to review this book for the review tour 11th – 22nd Sept? Email brookbooks@hotmail.co.uk

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#CoverReveal ~ The Little Village Christmas by Sue Moorcroft @AvonBooksUK @SueMoorcroft

I’m so excited to be revealing this gorgeous cover for Sue Moorcroft .. it’s never too early to get into the festive spirit in the book world 🙂 x

The #1 bestseller returns with an irresistibly festive tale that you won’t be able to put down!

Alexia Kennedy – interior decorator extraordinaire – has been tasked with giving the little village of Middledip the community café it’s always dreamed of.

After months of fundraising, the villagers can’t wait to see work get started – but disaster strikes when every last penny is stolen. With Middledip up in arms at how this could have happened, Alexia feels ready to admit defeat.

But help comes in an unlikely form when woodsman, Ben Hardaker and his rescue owl Barney, arrive on the scene. Another lost soul who’s hit rock bottom, Ben and Alexia make an unlikely partnership.

However, they soon realise that a little sprinkling of Christmas magic might just help to bring this village – and their lives – together again…

Settle down with a mince pie and a glass of mulled wine as you devour this irresistibly festive Christmas tale. The perfect read for fans of Carole Matthews and Trisha Ashley.

Pre-Order Here Available 9th October

About the Author

Best-selling author Sue Moorcroft writes women’s contemporary fiction with sometimes unexpected themes. Her last book, The Christmas Promise, was published by Avon Books UK. It reached #1 in the UK Kindle chart and did well in mass market paperback both in the UK and in Germany (WinterZauberKüsse). Her new book, Just for the Holidays, is already a best-seller in several categories.

Sue has won the Best Romantic Read Award, been nominated for a RoNA and is a Katie Fforde Bursary winner. She also writes short stories, serials, articles, columns, courses and writing ‘how to’.

An army child, Sue was born in Germany then lived in Cyprus, Malta and the UK. She’s worked in a bank, as a bookkeeper (probably a mistake), as a copytaker for Motor Cycle News and for a typesetter, but is pleased to have wriggled out of all ‘proper jobs’.

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#CoverReveal ~ The Secret Mother by Shalini Boland @ShaliniBoland @Bookouture

I’m excited to bring you another cover reveal from the fabulous team at Bookouture this evening .. this looks a corker! 🙂 x

The Secret Mother by Shalini Boland – out on 9th November. 

‘Are you my mummy?’ the little boy asks.

Tessa Markham comes home to find a child in her kitchen. He thinks she’s his mother. But Tessa doesn’t have any children. 

Not anymore.

She doesn’t know who the little boy is or how he got there.

After contacting the police, Tessa comes under suspicion for snatching the child. She must fight to prove her innocence. But how can she convince everyone she’s not guilty when even those closest to her are questioning the truth? And when Tessa doesn’t even trust herself…

A chilling, unputdownable thriller with a dark twist that will take your breath away and make you wonder if you can ever trust anyone again. Perfect for fans of Gone Girl, Girl on the Train and The Sister.

🇬🇧   Amazon UK

🇺🇸   Amazon US

 

About the Author

Shalini lives in Dorset, England with her husband, two sons and Jess their cheeky terrier cross. Before kids, she was signed to Universal Music Publishing as a singer songwriter, but now she spends her days writing suspense thrillers (in between school runs and hanging out endless baskets of laundry).

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#CoverReveal ~ Treasured by a Tiger by Felicity Heaton @felicityheaton #EternalMatesRomance

Treasured by a Tiger (Eternal Mates Romance Series Book 14)
Felicity Heaton
Despised by his tiger shifter pride as an abomination, Grey has ventured far from home, deep into the bowels of Hell in search of answers about the machinations of Archangel, the mortal hunter organisation who held his twin captive. With no knowledge of the realm, and little skill with the local languages, he quickly finds himself at a dead end—until he crosses paths with a beautiful hellcat female who rouses his darkest most dangerous instincts.

Lyra has been a fool, falling for the charms of a male whose only desire was to make a fast buck by selling her. Shackled and collared, her strength muted by magic, she awaits her time on the stage at a black-market auction, but before it can come, all hell breaks loose and she seizes a chance to escape—and runs straight into a majestic warrior who steals her breath away and tempts her like no other as he battles alone to free everyone.

When Lyra offers her services as a translator to repay Grey for saving her, will he be strong enough to resist the needs she awakens in him and spare himself the pain of her inevitable rejection when she discovers the truth about him? And when the powerful male in charge of the slave ring starts a bloody hunt for Lyra, can she escape another collar and find the courage to trust the tiger who is capturing her heart?

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The special sneak preview for Treasured by a Tiger begins on September 3rd, exclusive to Felicity’s mailing list. Every subscriber is entered into the giveaway to win a signed personalised paperback copy of Treasured by a Tiger, with a chance to win a copy in each of the three exclusive sneak peek chapters being sent out on September 3rd, 5th and 7th.

Not only will joining her mailing list ensure you’re in with a chance of winning one of the signed copies of Treasured by a Tiger, it means you’ll start receiving her newsletters, where she gives away 2 x $25 Amazon Gift Cards in each issue, and rewards subscribers with exclusive excerpts, teasers, flash fiction and cover reveals, and plenty of fun! Plus, you’ll receive FOUR FREE EBOOKS in her Series Starter Library just for signing up!

Join her newsletter at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/newsletter.php

Someone peered over his shoulder.

A black clawed finger landed on the piece of paper in front of him, close to his. “Here.”

Grey jumped and growled at the male beside him. The warlock. Wizard. Whatever the hell he wanted to be called. He reeked of magic and death.

Even the succubus backed off, her usual bright smile and sultry air turning cold and dark. She said something, and the male said something back at her, a bite in his tone.

“You speak English?” Grey didn’t want to talk to the male, but he wasn’t going to get anywhere speaking with the bartender or anyone else in the joint.

The male didn’t nod.

Not a good sign.

“This is here?” He pointed to the name on the piece of paper again.

The male nodded and looked around. “Here.”

It was a start.

“You speak her tongue?” Grey pointed towards the bartender. “Speak. Her.”

The male frowned, his icy green eyes darkening a shade, and looked at the female, and then back at him. “Yes.”

Getting there.

But the male didn’t really understand him. He couldn’t ask complicated questions and have him relay them to the bartender for her to answer, and the male wouldn’t know the answer to them himself since he was clearly just passing through and using the village as a rest stop.

He needed to boil it down into something the male might understand.

“Mortals. Humans.” It was worth a shot. He pointed to himself. “I’m looking for mortals.”

The male’s eyes lit up. He pointed east. “Mortals.”

Grey looked in that direction. East. The dragon realm and the Devil’s lands were east of here. He slid his blue gaze back to the male, his hackles rising and his animal side growing restless, prowling beneath his skin.

Was the male telling him the truth?

“Mortals?” Grey pointed east, along the length of the bar.

The male nodded and attempted a smile. It came off twisted and disturbing rather than reassuring.

“Definitely?” Because he was starting to get the feeling that the male was trying to get him killed. “Because dragons are that way.”

The male shook his head. “No dragons. Mortals.”

Grey pulled the map out of his trouser pocket, spread it across the bar top and jammed a finger against the area Sable had labelled as ‘here be dragons’ and had drawn what he imagined was meant to be a dragon, but it looked more like a snake fighting a spider.

“Dragons.” He tapped the paper.

The warlock shook his head again, his eyes darkening another shade and his thin lips flattening. He jabbed a black claw against a spot west of the dragons, and east of their current location.

“Mortals. There.”

So close?

Was it possible?

“Here?” Grey pointed to the map.

The male looked as if he was going to kill him if he asked again, an inky sort of darkness growing around his pupils to devour the pale green of his irises.

“Okay. Here it is. Got it. Thanks.” Grey bundled up his papers and his backpack in his arms and left before the male could even think about muttering a spell to flay his fur off his body.

He breathed deep as he hit the village square again, shaking off his nerves and the sensation that the male was trying to get him killed. He just smelled of death, that was all it was. It had put Grey on edge.

He looked back at the tavern. Even the succubi had avoided the male. He turned away from the village and headed east, glancing at the male’s tent as he passed it. It was set up a good distance from the rest of the tents and from the huts, placed right against the perimeter wall of the village.

That struck a chord in him.

The warlock had come to the village, but had separated himself from them, was keeping his distance even though he obviously wanted to be around others.

The male had been helpful, but because he had looked different to the others, Grey had found it difficult to trust him. He had judged him on his appearance, and had believed he wanted to kill him because of that. He was no better than the others.

He should have been.

Experience should have taught him something, should have made him react differently to the male, but he had treated him with suspicion, just like the rest.

Just like his pride had treated him.

All because he was different to them.

Gods, he was no better than them.

He hated that.

It weighed him down as he trekked east, following the lead the male had given him.

It took him across the valley basin to the foot of a low mountain range.

He looked along it in both directions, and then at his map. By his calculations, the quickest route would be over the mountains, because the range stretched in both directions for miles. If he tried to go around, it would take him at least another day to reach the destination the warlock had marked for him.

By then, Archangel might have moved on.

He adjusted his pack on his shoulders, huffed and started forwards, picking a path up the gently sloping side of the mountain. He crossed a trail around two hundred metres up and followed it as it wound through the sharp towering rocks and up through tall crevasses that sliced into the black mountain. The trail grew narrow near the top, heading towards a sweeping curve between two peaks.

He brought his pack around to his front and pressed his back against the black rock as he edged sideways along the path, his eyes on the steep drop to jagged rocks below and his heart hammering against his ribs. No damn way he was going to fall. He breathed through the fear, refusing to let it get to him, and looked to his right, focusing on the path instead.

It opened up a short distance ahead.

Relief was quick to sweep through him when his boots hit the wider path and the trail led away from the edge, over the ridge.

Gods, he was tired.

He pulled a cloth from his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow, and ran his other hand over his silver hair. He would rest on the other side. This high up the mountain, he was unlikely to run into any wild beasts. He could spare a few minutes to catch his breath and rest his legs. He unhooked the canteen from his pack, took a swig of the tepid water, and capped it and put it back again. He was getting low.

Thorne had warned him not to trust the water in Hell.

Apparently, some of it wasn’t water at all.

Grey didn’t want to know what that meant.

He figured it wouldn’t end well for him and that was enough to have him steering clear of hitting any stream he saw for a refill of his canteen.

He reached the top of the mountain.

His breath caught.

Good gods.

It was as if he could see the entire world.

Or at least all of Hell.

Beyond the valley far below him, steeper mountains rose, forming ridge after ridge into the distance, where the sky glowed bright gold. The Devil’s domain.

Hell was bleak, grim, but had a strange sort of beauty to it from up here.

He started down the mountain, his eyes leaping back to the view whenever they could, drinking it in. It was incredible. How big was Hell? He should have looked back in the other direction at the ridge to see if he could figure it out. Maybe he would stop there and drink it all in if he came back this way.

He picked out a spot to rest as he scouted the route ahead of him, a nice flat space just a little over halfway down the mountain and only accessible from one side, giving him some protection.

He was close to it when lights in the valley caught his eye.

He slowed his steps and tracked them as they flickered and danced, a row of flaming gold spots crossing the darkness, heading to his left, deeper into the valley.

Archangel?

He looked in the direction they were heading, and frowned. More lights glowed there. Another village? Or a base of operations for a mortal hunter organisation up to no good?

Thoughts of resting scattered and he marched down the mountain, intent on reaching the valley floor before the people walking towards the settlement reached it. He needed to find out if they were Archangel soldiers, and he needed to do it before they joined up with the others. He could handle a few hunters, but not an entire base of operations.

His boots skidded on the loose black shale as he hurried down the mountain, and he fought for balance more than once, attempting a controlled slide that would get him down into the valley quicker than using the paths.

When he hit the valley floor, he paused for breath, his eyes scanning the dimly lit world around him. He spotted the torches off to his left, about five hundred metres out from his current position. He drew down a deep breath, held it in his lungs to steady his heart and centre himself and exhaled slowly. His senses sharpened, his animal side rising to the fore, allowing him to see into the darkness ahead of him.

Allowing him to see the people crossing the valley.

Every inch of him stilled.

And then a slow burn started in his blood.

It wasn’t Archangel.

He growled low in his throat at the sight of the large male figures, at the thick chains they gripped, and the captives they dragged along behind them.

It was slave traders.

He caught a flash of the two tiger shifter females he had found huddled naked and terrified in their cages, held against their will by Pyotr, the male Maya had been promised to as a cub.

That burn grew hotter, fiercer, blazing white hot, and he curled his hands into fists, his emerging claws digging into his palms as his tiger side raged, battered his control and pushed him to react, to obey his instincts.

To protect.

No one deserved to be treated that way. No one deserved to be abused, mistreated, held captive and condemned to a life of fear.

He snarled through his fangs.

Dumped his backpack and stripped off his t-shirt.

These bastards were going to pay for what they were doing.

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Book 1: Kissed by a Dark Prince (Only 99c at all retailers!)
Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King
Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar
Book 5: Craved by an Alpha
Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat
Book 7: Taken by a Dragon
Book 8: Marked by an Assassin
Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior
Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness
Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death
Book 12: Turned by a Tiger
Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger
Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | INSTAGRAM

#CoverReveal ~ Anything You Do Say by Gillian McAllister @GillianMAuthor #AnythingYouDoSay

I have a stunning cover reveal for you this morning  #AnythingYouDoSay this looks fabulous! 🙂 x

**Preorder the new edge-of-your-seat psychological suspense new novel from Gillian McAllister now**

Gone Girl meets Sliding Doors in this edge-of-your-seat thriller

Joanna is an avoider. So far she has spent her adult life hiding bank statements and changing career aspirations weekly.

But then one night Joanna hears footsteps on the way home. Is she being followed? She is sure it’s him; the man from the bar who wouldn’t leave her alone. Hearing the steps speed up Joanna turns and pushes with all of her might, sending her pursuer tumbling down the steps and lying motionless on the floor.

Now Joanna has to do the thing she hates most – make a decision. Fight or flight? Truth or lie? Right or wrong?

Amazon UK Pre-Order Here  

E-Book ~ 30th November 2017

Paperback ~ January 25th  2018

About the Author

Gillian McAllister lives in Birmingham with her boyfriend and her cat. She enjoys reading books in bed while it rains outside and that moment where you think ‘what if…’ and a novel idea is born.

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#CoverReveal ~ No Accident by Robert Crouch @robertcrouchuk @CarolineBookBit

Thrilled to be participating in another cover reveal this evening .. No Accident .. I will be reviewing this later in the month as part of the blog tour 🙂 x

Nothing happens by accident, according to Kent Fisher, an environmental health officer with more
baggage than an airport carousel. When he ignores a restraining order to investigate the death of
Syd Collins in a work accident at Tombstone Adventure Park, he clashes with the owner, playboy
millionaire, Miles Birchill, who has his own reasons to block the investigation.
Determined to uncover the truth, Kent casts aside procedure and defies suspension when he
becomes convinced that Collins’ death is no accident.
But as Kent rushes to identify the killer and prevent more deaths, he faces even more unpleasant
surprises when his professional and private worlds collide with devastating consequences.
Set in and around the beautiful South Downs of East Sussex, No Accident is the first novel in a new
series that brings a fresh and irreverent twist to the traditional whodunit.

Amazon UK
Amazon US

About the Author

Inspired by Miss Marple, Inspector Morse and Columbo, Robert Crouch wanted to write entertaining
crime fiction the whole family could enjoy.
At their heart is Kent Fisher, an environmental health officer with more baggage than an airport
carousel. Passionate about the environment, justice and fair play, he’s soon embroiled in murder.
Drawing on his experiences as an environmental health officer, Robert has created a new kind of
detective who brings a unique and fresh twist to the traditional murder mystery. With complex
plots, topical issues and a liberal dash of irreverent humour, the Kent Fisher mysteries offer an
alternative to the standard police procedural.
Robert now writes full time and lives on the South Coast of England with his wife and their West
Highland White Terrier, Harvey, who appears in the novels as Kent’s sidekick, Columbo.

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#CoverReveal ~ Broken Bones by Angela Marsons @WriteAngie @bookouture

I have another awesome cover reveal today .. this time for the fabulous Angela Marsons and Bookouture. And as a special treat I have the prologue available to read below 🙂 x

They thought they were safe. They were wrong.
The murder of a young prostitute and a baby found abandoned on the same winter night signals the start of a disturbing investigation for Detective Kim Stone – one which brings her face to face with someone from her own horrific childhood.

As three more sex workers are murdered in quick succession, each death more violent than the last, Kim and her team realise that the initial killing was no one-off frenzied attack, but a twisted serial killer preying on the vulnerable.

At the same time, the search begins for the desperate woman who left her newborn baby at the station – but what looks like a tragic
abandonment turns even more sinister when a case of modern slavery is uncovered.

The two investigations bring the team into a terrifying world of human exploitation and cruelty – and a showdown that puts Kim’s life at risk as shocking secrets from her own past come to light.
A gripping new crime thriller from the Number One bestseller – you will be hooked until the final jaw-dropping twist.

Amazon UK Pre-Order available 3rd November
Amazon US

About the Author

Angela Marsons is the author of the Amazon Bestselling DI Kim Stone series – Silent Scream, Evil Games, Lost Girls, Play Dead,
Blood Lines, Dead Souls and now Broken Bones. Her books have sold more than 2 million in 2 years.

She lives in the Black Country with her partner, their cheeky Golden Retriever and a swearing parrot.
She first discovered her love of writing at Junior School when actual lessons came second to watching other people and quietly making up her own stories about them. Her report card invariably read “Angela would do well if she minded her own business as well as she minds other people’s”.

After years of writing relationship based stories (The Forgotten Woman and Dear Mother) Angela turned to Crime, fictionally speaking of course, and developed a character that refused to go away.
She is signed to Bookouture.com for a total of 16 books in the Kim Stone series and her books have been translated into more than 20 languages.
Her last two books – Blood Lines and Dead Souls – reached the #1 spot on Amazon on pre-orders alone.

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BROKEN BONES
by Angela Marsons
PROLOGUE
Black Country
Christmas Day

Elaine Goddard sat on the roof of the thirteen storey block of flats. The winter sun
shone a grid on to her bare feet dangling over the edge.
The protective grate had been erected some years ago after a father of seven had
thrown himself over.
By the time she was eleven she had stolen a pair of wire cutters and fashioned
herself an access point to the narrow ledge that was her place of reflection.
From this vantage point she could look to the beauty of the Clent Hills in the
distance, block out the dank, grubby reality of below.
Hollytree was the place you were sent if Hell was having a spring clean.
Problem families from the entire West Midlands were evicted from other estates
and placed in Hollytree. It was displacement capital. Communities around the
borough breathed sighs of relief as families were evicted. No-one cared where they
went. It was enough that they were gone and one more ingredient was added to the
melting pot.
There was a clear perimeter around the estate over which the police rarely crossed.
It was a place where the rapists, child molesters, thieves and ASBO families were put
together in one major arena. And then guarded by police from the outside.
But today a peace settled around the estate giving the illusion that the normal
activities of robbing, raping and molesting were on pause because it was Christmas
Day. That was bollocks. It was all still going on but to the backdrop of the Queens
speech.
Her mother was still slurring her way around the cheerless flat with a bottle of Gin
in her hand.
But at least Elaine had this. Her one piece of heaven. Always her safe place. Her
escape.
She had disappeared unnoticed up here when she was seven years old and her
mother had been falling all over the flat pissed as a fart.
How lucky was she to have been the only one of the four kids her mother had been
allowed to keep?
She had escaped up here when her mother’s drinking partner, Roddy, had started
pawing at her groin and slobbering into her hair. Her mother had pulled him off,
angrily, shouting something about ruining her retirement plan. She hadn’t understood
it when she was nine years old but she had come to understand it now.
She had cried up here on her sixteenth birthday when her mother had introduced
her to the family business and to their pimp, Kai Lord.
She’d been up here two months earlier when he had finally found her.
And she’d been up here when she’d told him to fuck right off.
She didn’t want to be saved. It was too late.
Sixteen years of age and already it was too damn late.
Many times she had fantasised about how it would feel to lurch forward onto the
wind. She had envisioned herself floating to and fro gently making the journey like a
stray pigeon feather all the way to the ground. Had imagined the feeling of
weightlessness of both her body and her mind.
Elaine took a deep breath and exhaled.
In just a few minutes it would be time to go to work. Heavy rain, sleet, snow,
Christmas – nothing kept the punters away. Trade might be slow but it would still be
there. It always was.
She didn’t hear the roof door open or the footsteps that slowly strode towards her.
She didn’t see the hand that pushed her forward.
She only saw the ground as it hurtled towards her.

#CoverReveal ~ From The Ruins by Janine Infante Bosco @JanineBosco



FROM THE RUINS
(A Satan’s Knights Novel)
by Janine Infante Bosco
Publication Date: September 26, 2017
Genres: Adult,
Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense


Are you ready to get ruined with Pipe and Layla? 
Happy Cover Reveal Day to Janine Infante Bosco – Author! 
Check out the AWESOME new cover for ¸.•´FROMTHE RUINS¸.•´ 
#PREORDER your copy now!


Add
to #Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2vqslHx


#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe
#SatansKnightsMC




.•´COVER CREDITS¸.•´

Cover Designer: JB’s Cover Obsession
Design
Model: Michael Joseph
Photographer: Reggie Deanching, R+M
Photography



¸.•´SYNOPSIS¸.•´

Pipe

In every man’s life there comes a day of reckoning. It’s the day darkness is exposed and sinners
are punished for their trespasses.
A day when loyalty is destroyed and a man is left in ruins.
When he walks away from his club and loses his religion.
Whoever said from the ruins they will rise again never walked a mile in my shoes or the pair of
red ones I was left holding.


Layla

He’s bitter, cold and angry.
He’s seen his share of heartache.
Lived through tragedy and despair.
He’s my neighbor.
The man I know should stay away from.
The man who will destroy what’s left of me if I get too close.
He’s Lee Jameson, and I’m Layla Milano.
This is our story.
The story of two people left in ruins forced to rise again.

***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence,
offensive language, and mature topics. Not recommended for people under the age of
18***

#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe
#SatansKnightsMC



.•´#GIVEAWAY¸.•´
 #Amazon #GiftCard!
$20.00 Amazon gift card & 8×10 Print of
Michael Joseph





.•´#EXCERPT¸.•´

Excerpt From The Ruins © Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante
Bosco.

Stalking down the wooden steps, I cross my lawn to hers and prepare myself for another argument. Deciding I
should’ve dragged my ass back to bed and damned the world to hell, I pound my fist against her front door. 
Let that punk kid give me lip.
Or better yet, let her husband get in my face.
I’ll welcome them to the neighborhood.
The door swings open and my gaze travels downward to the pipsqueak staring up at me like I’m the big bad wolf.
 Great.
“Uh, hey, kid,”
I start, running my fingers through my hair as a pair of big brown eyes level me. 
“You’re the man from last night,” she says, shaking her little finger at me. “The man on the lawn who broke my
mom’s car.”
“I didn’t break your mom’s car,” I grind out.
“But Tommy said—”
“Look, kid is your mom or dad home?” I ask, cutting her off, not really looking to go head to head with some little half pint. Huffing, she crosses her arms against her chest and rolls her eyes dramatically.
 “We don’t live with daddy anymore. He and mommy are divorced,” she reveals, uncrossing her tiny arms as
she plants her hands on her hips and angles her head. “Dad is living in our old house which sucks. Shit,
don’t tell my mom I said sucks. She gets all pissy when I curse but it’s not really a curse right? I mean you
should hear some of the things that come out of my mom’s mouth.”
Jesus, this kid.
Rubbing my temples, I look past her hoping to find her mother but the mud wrestler ain’t nowhere in sight and the
kid continues to ramble on, revealing all her mama’s secrets.
“Tommy says we’re here because mom can’t afford a house in the city,” she adds. “But, I think it’s also because
mommy hates daddy and wants to be far away from him.” Her lips straighten into a thin line as she glances down at the floor seeming to be in deep thought. “That sucks too,” she mutters with a frown.
 Dropping my hands from my face, I shove one into my pocket and stare at her. Not sure what to say, not really understanding why the fuck I care, I press my finger under her chin and lift her eyes to mine.
“Divorce sucks kid,” I tell her.
“You said sucks,” she says.
“Yeah, you did too,” I point out, watching as the frown fades from her lips. Lifting her chin, she studies me curiously.
Having a pair of little eyes on me, eyes that are full of wonder is a sobering moment for a bastard like
me. It makes me think about how I’m perceived in the eyes of a child. 
My thoughts are quickly jarred when I hear half-pints mother shriek from deep inside the house. Then I hear her
other two kids shout and before I realize what the fuck I’m doing, I’m following the little girl into the
house. Running into the kitchen, the kid comes to a complete stop and I stand behind her, taking in the chaos.
Water spurts from under the sink like a waterfall and the mud wrestler holds a pot in front of her as if to catch the fucking water. The older boy grabs another pot and tries to help his mother while the other girl covers her face with her hands.
“Make it stop,” the girl cries.
“I don’t know how!” the mother shrieks, emptying the pot into the sink. Her son goes sliding across the floor and she’s quick to grab his wrist before he hits the floor as the water rains down around them making it clear they’re fucked.
Stomping through the puddles soaking the kitchen, I brush past them and kneel underneath the sink to turn the
water valve off. As I twist it closed, I spot the busted pipe. Suddenly the commotion comes to a standstill as the water trickles off and silence fills the kitchen. Slipping my head out from under the sink, four sets of eyes peer back at me like I’m a fucking unicorn. Wiping my hands along the front of my shirt, I focus on the mud wrestler as she seems to be the least judgmental of the four. 
“The main pipe under the sink cracked. I shut the water off for now,” I explain as she continues to stare at me in
disbelief. Unable to help myself, I take her in too. Dressed in a pair of pajamas with her hair piled high on top of her head, she’s quite a looker. The thin tank top of her pajamas is soaked, molding to every curve of her body, revealing a narrow waist and hips that a man holds onto. Lifting my gaze higher, my eyes zero in on her tits. Her nipples are hard and fully visible through the wet shirt, leaving nothing to my imagination. It’s hard to believe the tall boy standing next to her is her son or that any of these children came from that body. 
Forcing my attention away, I reach for the towel hanging on the back of one of her chairs and toss it in her direction.
“Might want to cover up,” I tell her, eyeing the boy standing behind her, wearing the same stumped expression as his
mother.
Recovering she catches the towel and crosses her arms against her chest, hiding her perfect tits from my view. Last
night it was too dark and I was too drunk to notice her hazel eyes or how full her lips are. My gaze meets hers and I realize the view up top is just as sweet as everything from the neck down.
“What—how did you get in here?” she stammers, finally finding her voice. I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to thank me for stopping the waterfall in her kitchen but she just looks at me expectantly.
“I let him in,” the half-pint offers. 
Instantly, her brother turns to her and lectures her claiming the role as man of the house.
“You can’t be letting strange men in the house, Lexi,” he reprimands, wringing out his t-shirt.
Half pint rolls her eyes to the heavens before looking back at me.
“What’s your name?” she questions innocently.
It’s a simple question yet I stare at her as if she asked me if I knew the cure for cancer. My first instinct is to tell her
my name is Pipe but I’m not that man anymore. I’m not the man who got his road name because he made pipe bombs his club sold back in the day. I don’t ride with the Satan’s Knights anymore.
“Lee,” I mutter. “The name is Lee, kid.”
She steps forward and offers me her little hand.
“I’m Lexi,” she reveals as I awkwardly shake her hand with my massive paw. Then she drops my hand and turns to her brother. “Now, Lee isn’t a stranger anymore, Tommy.” 
“Okay, parties over kids,” the mud wrestler declares. “Jenna, take your sister upstairs and help her get
dressed.”
“Why do I have to help her? She’s five.”
“Because I said so,” she replies exasperatedly. Cringing as the words leave her mouth, she turns to her eldest child.
“You too, Tommy.”
“I’m not dressing Lexi.”
“Go shower, now,” she orders. “We need to get a move on.”
The two girls prance out of the kitchen but Tommy remains still, sizing me up much like he did last night. It’s clear the kid is protective of his mother and since half pint squealed all her mama’s business, I can respect the kid for stepping up. I hold his gaze and jut my chin, giving him a silent vow that all is good here. 
“Tommy,” my neighbor repeats and the boy finally tears his eyes away. A moment later he reluctantly leaves the
kitchen. “Thank you for turning the water off,” she says once we’re alone and I turn my attention back to her
I nod, letting my eyes roam over her, wishing she’d uncross her arms now that her kids are out of sight.
“But you didn’t come here to fix my plumbing and I don’t see you as a member of the welcoming committee so
I’m confused as to why you’re standing in my kitchen.”
“Your car is blocking my driveway.”
“You mean the car your friends smashed?”
“That’s the one,” I reply, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “If you’re planning on going into town
you’re going to want to fix that bumper first. The fucking troopers up here won’t think twice about
giving you a citation.” I pause, angling my head slightly as I continue to take her in. “I’m guessing that’s the last thing you need right now.”
Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink as her eyes narrow in anger. Grinding her teeth, she drops her arms and
draws in a deep breath as she balls her hands into fists. 
“And how would you know what I need?” she bites back.
Oh, I know what she needs. Any man with a pair of working eyes can tell this woman is wound tight. She needs to
release some of that tension inside her. She needs to get fucked until she can’t remember her name let alone her troubles but I doubt she wants to hear that.
“Your daughter has loose lips,” I say instead. “Might want to tell her not to spill your business to strangers.”
“Thanks for your input but I think I’m going to pass on the parenting advice from a man who had two half naked girls on his lawn in the middle of the night—both who are probably young enough to be his daughters.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I remain impassive as she studies me with her those judgmental eyes of her. 
I’m used to people’s remarks. Being a biker, I’ve had my share of assumptions made about me. Everyone thinks they
know everyone. You take one look at a person and swear you’ve got them all figured out. At times, I myself have been guilty of the offense. It takes years of making the wrong convictions and learning from each mistake to realize you never truly know a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.
 “I’ve got everything under control,” she adds and for a moment I wonder who she’s trying to convince.
“Suit yourself, killer,” I retort with a shrug and push off the counter.
“Layla,” she whispers before sighing. “My name is Layla not killer,” she adds, emphasizing the name by adding
air quotes.
“Good to know,” I say as I start towards the door. “Get your car out of my driveway, killer.”
Then without another word, I step out of the kitchen. I’m halfway toward the front door when I hear her curse and my lips quirk slightly. 
Half pint was right. 
Her mother has a filthy mouth.

#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe
#SatansKnightsMC



#JANINEINFANTEBOSCO


.•´ABOUT AUTHOR JANINE INFANTE BOSCO¸.•´

Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved
reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for
writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one
day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong-willed female
characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact
with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her
greatest accomplishment
 to date would be
her two sons Joseph and Paul.
¸.•´CONNECT WITH JANINE¸.•´



#CoverReveal ~ Fatal Masquerade by Vivian Conroy @VivWrites @HQDigitalUK

I was thrilled to be asked by Vivian to help reveal this fabulous cover .. I just love that dress! 🙂 x

Lady Alkmene and Jake Dubois are back in a gripping new adventure facing dangerous opponents at a masked ball in the countryside.

Masked danger…

Lady Alkmene Callender has always loved grand parties, but when she receives an invitation to a masked ball thrown by Franklin Hargrove – oil magnate, aviation enthusiast and father of her best friend, Denise – she’s never seen such luxury. The estate is lit up with Chinese lanterns in the gardens, boats operated by footmen float across the pond and the guest list features the distinguished, rich and powerful!

But below the glamour, evil is lurking. When a dead body is discovered, it forces Lady Alkmene to throw off her mask and attempt to find the true killer before Denise’s family are accused. If only her partner, Jake Dubois, weren’t hiding something from her…

This case might just be more dangerous than either of them could have imagined.

Pre-Order Here Out on 4th October 

Find Vivian here:

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