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Bridges
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: On the drive to Brierly Station, he didn’t speculate about who Miss DeWinter might be. It wasn’t his job to know who she was, only to meet her train and take her safely back to Westfield Court. She wouldn’t be the last of the friends and relatives who would gather as the old man’s life came to its long-awaited and peaceful end. Brierly was bustling today, as restless as the St. James household. He was in plenty of time for the train and sat in the car reading. The car was a Bentley Mark VI, as well-maintained and highly polished as it was the day it was purchased. The book he was reading was Thomas Hardy’s The Return of the Native. When the train rumbled in, he got out of the car. He stood patiently on the platform as the passengers disembarked, holding up a small slate on which he had chalked DEWINTER in large capitals. There weren’t many passengers, but they were briefly delayed while the conductor helped a blind woman navigate the steps. Neil’s gaze fell expectantly on a woman in her thirties, with an awful hat, but she was immediately met by a portly man and a teenage boy. No other likely prospects appeared, and he waited for someone to respond to the sign. No one did. Finally, only two passengers were left on the platform—a small, homely man and the blind woman. Blind girl, really. She couldn’t be more than twenty. She had a jointed white cane, and her large sunglasses didn’t cover the edges of the scars on her face. She would not have been beautiful even without the scars—too thin, for starters, of average height but with small bones. On the other hand, her face might once have been pretty, and her hair was clean and shining, raven black, and well brushed. She was too pale, and the scars around her eyes were red and ugly. She looked a little lost. Feeling foolish, he lowered the slate. “Miss DeWinter?” he asked as he approached her. “Yes,” she said, turning toward his voice with a smile. “I’m Vincent,” he said. “The St. James chauffeur.” “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Vincent,” she said. “Thank you for meeting me.” Her voice was soft, her enunciation perfect. The porter fetched her luggage—a single gray vinyl suitcase with a flower decal—from the depot and turned it over to Neil with a cheerful nod. Jane would be disappointed, especially if the girl’s other clothes were as plain as what she wore, a simple dark dress with long sleeves and an unfashionable, below-the-knees hemline. “Would you take my arm?” he asked, positioning himself so she could place her hand in the crook of his elbow, which she did with easy confidence. “Do you have a Christian name?” she asked. “Yes, miss. It’s Neil.” “That’s a good name,” she said. “Mine is Mary Claire. How is my grandfather, do you know?” Neil, who hadn’t known the old man had any grandchildren, said, “Hanging on, miss.” He opened the car door and helped her into the back seat. “You don’t have to call me ‘miss’ all the time,” she said. “Please call me Mary Claire. Or my friends at school call me Sunny.” “Yes, miss,” he said automatically and closed the door. 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by:
Fauxmance
-- EXCERPT: “Want to know the worst part?” Hayden nodded, and I laid my head against his shoulder. There was no way I’d be able to say this next bit while looking at him. Even without eye contact, I didn’t know if I’d be able to admit it out loud. “He’s the only guy I’ve ever kissed,” I whispered. “Seriously?” Hayden asked. I gave a short nod. “Yep. We were so young when we got together. I thought he was the one. But today, when he let me go, there weren’t any tears. There was no regret in his voice. He just looked relieved.” It was silent for a moment. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Kissing is overrated.” Hayden leaned away, lifting my head so I had to look at him. “Why do you say that?” he asked. “People always make it sound so amazing,” I said. “Kisses are supposed to cause fireworks, make you hear symphonies, touch you on a soul-deep level. I used to believe all the hype. I was a hopeless romantic through and through.” I shrugged. “But my first kiss wasn’t like that. Actually, no kiss I had after was like that either. Like I said, it’s overrated.” Hayden shook his head, his eyes suddenly serious. “That’s awful,” he said. “No, they were pleasant enough, just nothing to write home about.” “I kind of want to find Sean, so I can kick his ass.” I laughed. “Oh, it wasn’t him. Sean liked kissing fine. I always figured it was me. That I was defective or something.” Hayden put a hand on my cheek. “It wasn’t you, Magnolia.” I nodded but didn’t really believe it. Hayden couldn’t know that. He was just trying to make me feel better. “I’m serious,” he said. “Yeah okay.” “Let me prove it to you.” My brows pinched together. “How are you going to do that?” “I’m going to kiss you,” he said. Anything I was about to say left me. My brain went totally blank. What were words again? “If you still think kissing’s overrated after that, okay. I’ll retire my player card for good.” Hayden’s eyes went to my lips, and they tingled in response. “That won’t happen, though.” I swallowed to clear my throat. “How can you be sure?” “Because I’m going to do my best to please you.” He nodded. “And between you and me, Magnolia, I’m a very good kisser.” I sent him a soft smile. “You’re so conceited.” “Not conceited if it’s the truth,” he said. “Some of the things you say should annoy me, but for some reason I find it charming.” “That’s good. You have to be at least a little attracted to me, or this won’t work.” No problem there, I thought. Hayden seemed to be reading my mind, but I hoped he didn’t know just how attractive I found him. It was way too much for the short period of time we’d spent together. And I was pretty sure the attraction was one-sided. Although…he wasn’t opposed to kissing me. That meant he must’ve found me somewhat desirable, right? Still. He might just be doing this because he saw it as a challenge. “Well, I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” I said. “Sean once told me I wasn’t very responsive.” Hayden scoffed. “Don’t worry. Unlike your ex, I actually have skills.” I felt my breath hitch as he slowly leaned forward. “I just don’t want to disappoint you,” I breathed. Hayden’s gaze locked on mine. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you.” The air between us grew thick as his eyes went back to my lips. “And you could never disappoint me,” he said. “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since we got on this elevator.” 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: Description Another stunning cowboy novel from New York Times bestseller Donna Grant, That Cowboy of Mine! Is he an enemy? Dillon Young is proud that she inherited her aunt’s ranch. The problem: someone is trying to run her off and is willing to do whatever it takes. Strange, dangerous things keep happening. Dillion suspects her no-good neighbor and fellow wealthy rancher Hank Stephens. Never a man to get his hands dirty, he sends others to get the job done. So, when the irresistible Cal Bennett is found passed out drunk on her property, Dillion is on high alert. Until someone takes a shot at her and Cal springs to her rescue. When the hard-bodied, no-nonsense-talking cowboy points out that she may need some help, Dillion is inclined to reluctantly agree. Or a lover? Waking up on a stranger’s property with a shotgun in his face is not Cal Bennett’s idea of a good time. Never mind that the person on the other end of the barrel is one of the most fiercely beautiful women he has ever seen. Things get more interesting when he finds himself shielding her from flying bullets. It’s clear that this smart, savvy woman could use a hand and Cal is all too happy to lend any part of his body she requires. His proposal: pose as lovers until they find out who is after her ranch. As the danger rises and secrets are revealed, the passion explodes between them and there is no turning back. Publisher: St.Martin's Press, St.Martin's Paperbacks Publication Date:26 Apr 2022 9781250820280, 1250820286 Pre-Order/Purchase Link  My thoughts: It's always a pleasure to read a Donna Grant book and this newest release isn't an exception: the plot is full of passion and danger, the characters are strong and passionate, and the pace is great. If anything, this book is even more streamlined than Gran't previous romantic suspense Home for A Cowboy Christmas. This one is all about trust. Trust, loyalty, dreams, passion, and love, of course. Cal Bennett wakes up with a shotgun aiming at hime and it is clear that Dillon Young means business. Someone stole her prized stallion Legacy and it happened while Cal was having his drink-induced nap on her land. Unfortunately, this rodeo champion doesn't remember anything from the night before, Then someone shoots at Dillon and Cal who yanks her out of the bullet's way at the very last moment. Dillon is torn between two contrasting feelings. Can she trust Cal who had an opportunity to sabotage her business? Can she not trust him after he saved her life? She has been burnt before and decided it was better to shut her feelings and focus on the ranch she inherited unexpectedly from her aunt Dolly. Dillon has been alone for too long and this charmer of a cowboy is only happy to help out at the ranch. A bit of insta-love/lust? perhaps, but wait till you read how comfortable they are with each other. The protagonists are both people of great integrity and the more you read, the better you will understand where they are coming from. Not only is Dillon strong and independent, she also shows a lot of courage in face of danger. Cal also has his own backstory of following in his father's footsteps and perhaps never stopping long enough to work out what his own dreams are. Well, not until he meets Dillon. The mystery/suspense element seems a bit stronger in this book, although do expect at leasy one hot and steamy scene. We find out who wants to harm Dillon and get her ranch by all means early on. Again, there are a few unexpected twists thrown in by master-storyteller Donna Grant who knows how to keep her reader engaged. The book was action-packed with a great pace from the beginning to its nailbiting climax and sweet epilogue. My only complaint was that the villains and their motivations seemed to be a bit one-dimensional. Having said that, the book was gripping and well-balanced. A quick and enjoyable read for anyone who loves a good romantic suspense story. Can't wait to read Donna Grant's next book! Thank you to NetGalley and St.Martin's Press for the review copy provided in exchange for an honest opinion.  About the author:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant has penned ninety novels, novelettes, novellas, and short stories spanning multiple genres of romance including the exhilarating Dark King and Reaper paranormal series, the romantic suspense Sons of Texas series, the historical paranormal Kindred series, and the contemporary Heart of Texas series. She lives with her two children, a dog, and three cats in Texas. #Book Blitz #Princess of Zamibia (Royal Brides, Book 1) by Delaney Diamond @Xpresso Book tours25/4/2022
Princess of Zamibia
Goodreads / Authors Direct / Audible / Apple / Nook / Google Play / Scribd / Kobo The complete series: -- EXCERPT: Did he know? Her heart raced unsteadily. Was that why she had felt so uneasy recently? Did he have someone watching her? She stood abruptly, a shiver rippling through her body. “I want you to leave.” “Our conversation isn’t finished.” What did he know? “I’m done talking to you. I told you everything I had to say three years ago. No, scratch that. I need to add something else to the dumbass comment. You’re a liar. A liar and a cheat.” Emotion threatened to overtake her as the hurt came back full force. She’d loved him so much. Given him everything, all of herself, and what had she received in return? Lies. Humiliation. His brows snapped together. “I never lied to you.” “Yes, you did! How dare you come into my home and question me. Get out.” “Dahlia.” Her name was a low warning. “How dare you! After three years? Who do you think you are?” “Sit down.” “And not even a word of apology. You know I never stole from you. You had to know. But no, you would never apologize. You’re the mighty Prince Kofi Francois Karunzika. Go back to Africa and leave me the hell alone.” Dahlia marched over to the door and yanked it open. “Get out!” In the hallway, Abdalla remained as immovable as a block of stone. Kofi came to his feet in a swift, lithe movement. “Do you think you can just throw me out like a piece of rubbish?” “This is not Zamibia. You don’t have any power in this country. Your word is not law. If you don’t leave now, I’ll call the police and have you escorted from the building.” “Is that so?” A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “Close the door, Dahlia. I’m not going anywhere.” “I mean it, if you don’t leave—” “You. Will. Do. Nothing.” His dark eyes glittered at her from across the room, and trepidation skittered down her spine. He was way too confident, even for Kofi. “You know,” he said, using a conversational tone, “I had no idea you moved from New York. Imagine my surprise when the investigator told me he found you here, in Atlanta.” “Why were you looking for me?” Dahlia asked hoarsely, a tightness in her chest she couldn’t explain. “Never mind why. I had my reasons,” Kofi replied, voice as hard as steel. “Why did you leave New York?” “I wanted a fresh start.” “Is that the only reason?” He was enjoying playing his little game, not giving anything away until he was ready. The Conquering Lion of the tribe of Mbutu. Like a lion, he toyed with his defenseless prey, circling, not striking, until he was ready to devour it. “Y-yes.” The lie constricted her throat so tightly it hurt to speak. The cost of living was cheaper in Atlanta than New York, and though she no longer worked in property management, at least here she could pay the bills and take care of her son. “I’ve given you ample opportunity to tell me the truth. If I am a liar, so are you, olufeh mi.” The endearment didn’t hold the same appeal as before. Not when he used it to punctuate a veiled threat. Dahlia’s fingers tightened on the door she had yet to release. He’d known all along. That’s why he was here. “No,” she said quietly, shaking her head slowly, denying the inevitable. “Yes, Dahlia. I know your secret. I know you carried my firstborn inside you when you left New York. Close the door and sit down. I’m not leaving. Not without my son.” 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by:
My NOT So Anonymous Best Friend
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Noah As if the cosmos decided to force me to drool, Evan Santiago rode into the lot on his motorcycle. He wore a helmet with the visor down, hiding his face, but I didn’t need to see to know. The guy was all tight muscles and badness. He parked two spots away from my light blue jalopy with the word WEEBS 2 on the license plates and stickers of Kirito, Asuna, and Zero Two on the windows around my car. He dropped the kickstand and gracefully swung one powerful leg over the seat as he got off the bike. He pulled off his helmet and shook his deep black hair to perfection and crouched to get his satchel out of one of the saddlebags on the bike. His tee lifted, revealing a sliver of pale skin at his back. Damn. When had I started looking at Evan Santiago this way? I blinked away the moment and turned to the empty seat beside me. I caught sight of Sasha approaching the secret love of my life, having silently crept out of my car. I hadn’t even heard her close the door! Her little skort swayed over toned legs. The slut. Was I really thinking she was competition? Was I competition? Evan acknowledged her and she said something to him. He lifted his eyes in my direction—the color of green flames—forcing me to lose my breath. No. Evan couldn’t see me through the glare of the windshield. Nope. But that look still held me in some sort of trance. As if an invisible line had jettisoned out of his eyeballs and wrapped around my chest, crushing me. Yeah, too much anime for me. Then he suddenly looked away, and the crushing sensation lifted. I inhaled sharply, filling my lungs with much-needed oxygen. Man-whore. Why was I thinking of someone else when I had Carlos? That was not a good sign. Sasha took Evan’s arm, and they walked into the school together as if they were a couple. Were they a couple? The idea of them together left me confused. Nothing new, really. Just another normal day in the life of me. Evan was not interested in me. Despite the burning looks he gave me. Certainly, I was misinterpreting them. Maybe the guy had a bad case of acid indigestion. Or I had a bad case of TMI—too much imagination. With an audible sigh, I headed into the school alone. If I had to draw an abstract version of my high school, it would be a prism of varying stars and stripes. I was a stripe, while people like Evan Santiago were stars. 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: Description "Fire wasn’t exactly the intended outcome of a water spell, but with me, sadly inevitable." Phoebe’s new life as a mage hasn’t had an auspicious start. No matter how hard she tries, her spells fail spectacularly. How is she to impress her boss, Archibald Kane, if she keeps setting her hair on fire? Her problems with magic become trivial when a night out ends with a dead body. The victim has clearly been killed by a vampire, and the evidence points at Phoebe’s housemate Luca. The leader of London vampires, Morgan Hunt, is convinced Luca is guilty. To prove his innocence, Phoebe and Luca set out to solve the death. Was the victim random, or has an old enemy of Hunt’s returned? And how are they to find the killer when Hunt has done his best to hide his past? Phoebe is an expert in unearthing old things, but facing a powerful foe would be easier, if she had a hang of her spellcasting too. Luckily she has magical friends she can count on. And maybe the third spell turns out to be the charm after all. Publisher: Crimson House Books Publication Date: March 27th 2022 ISBN 9789527061558 ebook ISBN: 9789527061541  My thoughts: Third Spell's the Charm is the third book in Susanna Shore's House of Magic series of paranormal cozy mysteries set in London. Our sweet and charming protagonist Phoebe Thorpe is finally coming to terms with the discovery of the supernatural London and its usual suspects- vampires, weres, witches and warlocks, and an occasional hellhound or two. This is a bit of a spoiler if you haven't read the first two books yet, but she is also a mage herself, well, an untrained one, who needs to level up her non-existent spellcasting as soon as possible. As the title and the blurb suggest, Phoebe shouldn't let her spectacular failures discourage her, it will all come to her eventually and our naive mage/amateur sleuth will save the day for her lovely landladies, her housemates Ashleigh and Luca, her gentlemanly boss/love interest Kane, and the whole law-abiding magic community. I loved seeing the familiar faces and finding out how Phoebe's relationships and friendships grow and deepen. The mystery itself was based on an old grudge, so Phoebe has to do quite a lot of good, old fact-gathering and just won't let bygones stay bygones. As you can guess this doesn't go down well and she manages to ruffle a few feathers. If you pay attention to details, it isn't too difficult to guess the villain this time. An easy, fun read, perfect for anyone who likes paranormal cozies with quirky, adorable characters and a lot of fast-paced action. Looking forward to the next story in this addictive series! Thank you to NetGalley and Crimson House Books for the review copy provided in exchange for an honest opinion. About the author: Susanna Shore is an independent author of more than twenty books. She writes the Two-Natured London paranormal romance series, P.I. Tracy Hayes series of light mysteries set in Brooklyn, and House of Magic paranormal mystery series. She is also an author of some contemporary romances and thrillers. You can find her on Twitter @SusannaShore and more about her books on her webpage susannashore.com, where you can also find short stories and a sign-up page to her newsletter. 
Flare
-- EXCERPT: Rhys Shayne extolled the virtues of his lookbook in painful detail, careful to point out all the high-profile designers he’d modelled for. The message was clear. If I wanted Flare, my shiny new label, to succeed in its first appearance at Fashion Week, I needed him, front and centre. I didn’t even have an open call going. He’d just arrived on the doorstep of Flare and assumed I’d be interested, no, gagging to see him. I’d have choked on the sheer audacity if it wasn’t for the fact he had a point. I did need something, but it certainly wasn’t his or anybody else’s bullshit. My gaze flicked over his shoulder to where my shop assistant stood with his lips flattened against the glass, his tongue darting obscenely in and out. Kip made no bones about his gutter-dragging opinion of the excruciatingly beautiful but arrogant-as-fuck model, and I made a fair attempt at swallowing my laugh. But the resulting half snort almost blew the show. Shayne spun in his seat, but you had to be quicker than that to catch Kip Grantham napping—his attention locked on his steamer as he pressed my new season feather-collared jackets fresh from my manufacturer. He gave Shayne a waggle of his fingers that got ten points for insolence but didn’t fool anyone. Shayne turned back with his lip curled. Beauty never made up for a personality that verged on the nasty, which was only one of the reasons Shayne wouldn’t be gracing my runway anytime soon. The other reason being his tendency for drama with a capital D, and I prized composure as much as looks in the models I employed. “All my slots are gone for this year, sorry,” I lied unapologetically, doing my best to ignore Kip thumbing his nose in the background. “That’s not what I heard,” Shayne said tartly. Bugger. “I can wear anything well, and you know it.” Which was unfortunately true, but beside the point. “I’m sure you’ll have a ton of designers clamouring to add you to their list once they know you’re back. I’ve already chosen the one pinch-hitter model I’m allowed from outside the casting call. You missed that day, right?” I couldn’t resist the dig. He sniffed. “I was overseas. Miami. Stockholm.” He waved a hand in the air. “The casting agency contacted my agent, of course, but it couldn’t be helped.” Behind Shayne, Kip gave an epic eye-roll that would’ve given the London Eye a run for its money. Shayne studied his fingernails. “And yes, I’ve had a lot of requests since I returned. But I like your work, Rhys. It’s a little raw, but there’s a freshness to it—” I imagined strangling the man by his Hermes scarf, knowing Kip would help me hide the body. “—and since this is your debut year, I thought I’d give you first shot at me. I can help make that splash you need.” Again, unfortunately true. But he’d never speak like that to a seasoned designer. It was all I could do not to boot the arsehole from my office, but New Zealand fashion was a tiny industry, and the last thing I wanted was to earn a name for myself as a prima donna in my first year. “I’m flattered you thought of me.” I almost choked on the words as Kip mimed hanging himself with his tie while walking downhill. “But not this time.” Read ever. Shayne stared, bewildered, like I’d lost my ever-loving mind, and maybe I had. Then he shrugged. “Well, I hope you don’t come to regret your decision.” He shoved his lookbook in his fashionable Burberry satchel with an audible huff. “Young-gun invites only happen once, right?” “Right.” I nodded sagely, wondering if it would be considered a service to humanity to throttle dickhead sanctimonious pricks on a Friday afternoon before they were let loose on an unsuspecting weekend. If it wasn’t, I was going to petition for a law change. “I guess I’ll have to rely on my actual designs, won’t I?” He sent me a look that said he knew there was an insult in there somewhere, but I wasn’t worth the effort to search for it. “I should be getting back to work.” I pushed to my feet and circled around the desk, making it clear the meeting was over. Shayne gathered his coat and satchel and then stood. “I, um, ended things with Marc, in case you were wondering.” I wasn’t and looked puzzled just to piss him off. “Marc?” I knew damn well who he was talking about. He narrowed his gaze. “Marc Norman.” “Oh. Shame.” I felt oddly relieved for Marc, who was in fact a lovely guy, if a bit . . . vacant. Shayne ran his gaze slowly up my body and I suddenly needed a shower. “Maybe you and I could do . . . something?” Not in a million years. “Thanks, but I’m too busy to date right now.” He shot me a sly grin. “It wouldn’t have to be a date.” And yeah, I might’ve thrown up in my mouth. “The answer’s still no.” I plastered a grin in place. “Sorry.” A spark of annoyance flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t push. “Let me walk you out.” I ushered Shayne past Kip, who discreetly stabbed a finger in and out of his mouth, and then out the front door of Flare and into the crisp June air laced with salt from the harbour beyond. As soon as the coast was clear, I spun back to my assistant, my mouth open in a silent scream. Kip raced to my side, and together we watched Shayne cross the road and disappear from view in a cloud of Yves St Laurent and pissy flounce. “Oh. My. God. That man is a douchebag of the highest order.” Kip slipped his arm through mine and pulled me toward the service desk. “He’s always dropping into the shop looking for you. I put him off as often as I can, but he does actually spend money, so I don’t want to piss him off too much. I don’t know why he’s so fucking popular.” I snorted a laugh. “You mean apart from his scorching angular waifish look and ability to have both men and women drooling over their credit cards as they rush to buy whatever the fuck he wears?” Kip huffed. “People will follow any idiot off a cliff if they look like they know what they’re doing. Your clothes stand on their own, Rhys. They don’t need a pretty clothes horse.” I shot him a look and he pulled a face. “Okay, maybe one or two pretty clothes horses wouldn’t go amiss.
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: Description: It Started With A Kiss Can two strangers dreams lead to their destiny? American Star Mendoza is living in her dream location, Edinburgh, a place she discovered in British novels while growing up. Employed at a trendy city centre coffee shop, quirky, pink-haired Star spends her days fantasising about a handsome businessman she serves daily. He's totally out of her league but a girl can dream, right? Fin Hunter is exhausted from striving for his father's elusive love and approval, and of following a life path of his family’s making. When things go drastically wrong Fin decides it’s time to stand on his own two feet and follow his own dream. Star is bereft when her handsome stranger stops coming to her coffee shop, but a chance encounter in the most unlikely of places leaves her wondering if her fantasy could now become a reality? Can opposites attract over their love of a city and music or is their story simply doomed to fail? Previously Published as 'Star Attraction' Publisher: Boldwood Books Publication Date: April21st 2022 Purchase Link  My thoughts:
The first thing I noticed (well, apart from this gorgeous book cover) was how readable the book is. Lisa Hobman's writing style makes it very easy to get into the story and follow the events. It is also very sweet and romantic, given the differences in the background of the two protagonists Fin and Star- and yet, they are also perfect for each other. Fin has been trying to be a perfect son all his life, but nothing makes his demanding parents happy or proud of him. He even agrees to something that can only be called an arranged marriage to please his father and promote his business interests. But then things go spectacularly wrong... Star is An American who is in love with all things Scottish (can't blame her!). When she gets a chance to move to Edinburgh, she can finally move to the city of her dreams. A talented photographer, Star lso works in a coffee shop where she meets Fin. Sparks fly, but the road to true happiness isn't easy. Fabulous setting and lots of great characters, both main and supporting, plus, Lisa Hobman's lovely, warm writing style - the book has so much going on for it! Recommended to all readers looking for a sweet, enjoyable story with a bit of family drama and a happily-ever-after in the end. Thank you to Boldwood Books and NetGalley for the review copy provided in exchange for an honest opinion.
Hungry for More
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Fucking hell, this isn’t the time to be reminiscing. The atmosphere becomes stifling. My breathing labors. I can feel Simone getting closer. I look across the room and gasp, taking a couple of breaths to get my treacherous heart under control. The bastard betrays me, thumping erratically at the sight of her. Is it even possible that Simone has gone from beautiful to otherworldly? She ages like fine wine. Yeah, that shit is cliché, but it’s not when it’s true. Her dress hugs every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination. My eyes follow the deep v down her chest, showing the swell of her breasts. I want to run over and shield her from the eyes watching her. Old habits die hard. Every motherfucker in here can see her. She’s not yours. My mouth curves up with an image of her on her knees, my hands fisting her hair as she gags on my cock. I’m fucking sick. I shake my head to rid myself of the image. Our eyes collide. Turmoil brews in their depth. Simone braces herself for my reaction. She drags her eyes across my body, giving it a once-over. My stomach muscles knot like rope at the perusal. There’s no warm embrace. Simone doesn’t run to me, begging for forgiveness.
GIVEAWAY!a Rafflecopter giveaway Hosted by: #Book Blitz #The Last Beekeeper by Rebecca L.Fearnley #YA Fantasy #Dystopian @Xpresso Book Tours20/4/2022
The Last Beekeeper
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo -- EXCERPT: The insect—for it can only be an insect—wanders groggily over the mound, seems to contemplate her fingertips for a moment and then clambers aboard. Its feet are so light, she can barely feel them. She holds the creature up to her face, frowning as it waggles its antennae. Its gold-and-black striped body gleams in the sun, fuzzy to the point of ridiculous, with delicate gossamer wings and antennae that twitch curiously. Solma stares. “What is it, d’you think?” It isn’t a beetle. Solma knows that much. Warren’s pulling at her fingertips, straining to see. Solma suppresses a smile and holds the creature out so he can get a better look. Warren’s eyes widen. “That’s a bee!” he whispers. Solma scoffs. “No it isn’t,” she laughs, ruffling his hair. “It can’t be, can it? There ain’t no more bees.” No one has seen one in over a century. This can’t possibly be a bee. Still. What’s the harm in letting her brother hope? She watches it wriggling on her finger. She can feel it now if she concentrates. The lightest brush of life against her skin. It buzzes its wings half-heartedly and Warren grins with delight. Solma can’t help grinning, too. It’s been such a long time since she’s seen him smile. “Why don’t it fly away?” Warren asks. “You think it’s sick?” Solma gently cups her other hand over the insect and draws it close to her chest. Could it be sick? The thought makes her sick, too. The summer skies have been empty of flying things for such a long time that suddenly she can’t bear the thought of this one falling ill. It buzzes against her again, shuffling down her finger and into her palm, as if accepting the safety she’s offering. Its little body thrums, begging protection. “Maybe it is sick,” Solma concedes, then balks at the stricken look on Warren’s face. “We’ll save it,” she says without thinking. It’s a daft thought. She doubts they can save it. If it really is a bee, it’s the only one she’s ever seen. Where can it possibly have come from? 
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