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Everything We Are
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: THEA I never really thought I’d be that person—the one who switches school after a year because they’ve changed their whole career path. It’s not as if the change is because some big scandal went down. There was no sordid affair with a teacher, no cheating on a test, not even the slightest hint of any wrongdoing. The plain fact is, I quickly discovered the major I was studying was not for me. It took a while for realization to set in. I thought my plans were set in stone since ninth grade. Graduate from college with a summa cum laude, become a successful defense attorney defending high-profile cases in the state, get married and have kids. Now my direction has changed, and a high-flying defense attorney has been replaced with a nutritionist and dietician. There is another reason for this change; one I haven’t admitted to anyone. I feel like I’m stuck. I’m floating around in no man’s land with a future I’m not sure I want anymore. The trouble with having a life plan from an early age is the risk of growing out of it. It seemed like a good idea when I was fifteen and obsessed with crime dramas. It’s only when you start hitting the books and going to lecture upon lecture you realize it’s not as glamorous as it seems. I quickly discovered the legal profession is not for me. So here I am, leaving my hometown of Silver Lake and moving three hours south, where I’ll attend the University of Northport for the next three years. The Health Sciences department at Northport is one of the best in our state, which is the reason I’m transferring there. My career choice may have changed, but my ambitions for graduating summa cum laude remain the same. It helps that my older brother, Jude, goes there. Thankfully, I get to share a house with him and some of his teammates. Jude is on Northport’s ice hockey team, and if he wanted to, he could easily be drafted to the NHL. At the moment, though, he’s set on graduating and “conquering the world,” his words, not mine.
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Reasons Why Not to Date Public Enemy CEO
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My thoughts:
Summer is finally with us and what can be better than reading a lively, lighthearted romcom on a hot summer day like this? If you're stuck for choice, here is Melanie Mutton's newest release and it's fun, fun, fun!!! I don't know about you, but I adore lists, so no wonder this book won me over from page one. Scratch that, it was the cover that told me straightaway- my favourite tropes of enemies-to-lovers and GrumpyVersus Sunshine are coming in one hot package! Mia Sparks, a sweet and hard-working girl everybody in her small town of Shell Grove loves, knows she needs to stay away from her ridiculously hot and, yes, ridicullously grumpy boss, and the reasons make a list as long as her arm...But what can you do when there's the proverbial spark and the chemistry is just off the charts? Aiden maybe a shrewd businessman everyone loves to hate, but perhaps there's more to him than his evil reputation? One thing you can count on- he knows Mia is special and worth fighting for. I was looking for a quick and entertaining read and I knew Melanie Mutton never disappoints. I flew through this fast-paced book in a couple blissful hours and now I can't wait to come back to Shell Grove and find out what future has in store for Mia's friends! Thank you to Giselle from Xpresso Book Tours and the author for the review copy, provided in exchange for an honest opinion. #Book Blitz #Maddie Bloom & the Fae Academy by Emily Jenkins #Paranormal#YA @Xpresso Book Tours22/6/2022
Maddie Bloom & the Fae Academy
-- EXCERPT: I flipped onto my back, spitting mulch from my mouth. I was seconds from pushing myself into a sitting position when the ground vibrated beneath me, courtesy of Sam’s rapidly approaching footsteps. Her bloodlust rippled through the air; that’s how excited she was to have me where she wanted me. Get up! My inner voice yelled at me. I listened, but instantly regretted it. Sharp pain shot through my torso from the impact of the fall, and my stomach lurched as Samantha leered down at me. She was way too close for comfort – to where I could distinguish freckles from blemishes. I swallowed, heat rising to my face. I had a feeling my life was about to flash before my eyes. But before I could reflect on the short, uneventful fifteen years that I’d walked this Earth, I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head sideways, and a strange warmth spread over my body, engulfing me from head to toe. To my left, the air was… shimmering. I blinked. Once, twice, a third time, but it was still there. A twinkling, transparent curtain swaying in mid-air and luring me in. Calling for me. I’m not exaggerating, either. I swear it was chanting my name repeatedly. Meanwhile, in front of me, Sam was preparing to pounce like a predator. Without thinking, without understanding what was going on, I dodged, rolling toward the strange, glistening air to my left. And somehow, the space swallowed me whole, swooping me out of the playground and away from Sam’s clutches just as she reached out to make good on her promise to make me pay for forcing her to run. I caught one last glimpse of her stunned face. And then she disappeared from my view. Or was it me who disappeared? Whatever the case, the world as I, Maddie Bloom, knew it, was gone.
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Weaver
-- EXCERPT: DARKNESS SURROUNDED ME AS I OPENED MY eyes, its emptiness clinging to me like a second skin. A shiver rattled my bones as my feet hit the cold planks of my cottage’s hardwood floor. Smoothing my nightgown straight, I walked to my altar, ready for my next attempt. It had been two days since my last dream, and all I could remember was that I didn’t want it to end. I tried to force myself back to sleep—back to him. Dark, sparkling eyes from beneath his hood were all I could remember before being ripped awake without warning. Now I was desperate to get back. There was something about him I needed to learn. Something magical calling to my witch’s soul. My last batch of skullcap, rosemary, and mugwort sat cold in my mortar. This time, an added pinch of passionflower should stop my mental chatter. I needed to focus if I was going to make this work. Three times before, I’d seen him shimmering in the distance, watching me from afar. The most recent dream I recalled was like a fairy tale. With glistening castles and lush forests surrounding me, it was full of mythical creatures who let me frolic alongside them without a care in the world. I spotted him standing behind a stone outbuilding, staring and monitoring my every move. The dream before that took place in a desert where I lived a fabulous life as the close friend of an important sheik. There he’d been huddled behind a spice cart in the market, but I could still feel his eyes upon me. Regardless of my dream’s location, my watcher was always there. Unfortunately, my last dream had been yanked away, leaving me with a complete void. Something had changed, and I was determined to find out what.
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The Laughbox
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play SPECIAL RELEASE PRICE: 2.99 until 6/26 when price goes up to 9.99! -- EXCERPT: Declan Here.” My executive assistant, Dave, shoves a perfectly wrapped present at me, with a card and a small envelope. We’re in my office, the sun shining on this beautiful spring day, and I am finishing up work before taking a vacation. Yes–vacation. It’s for one night, but it counts. “What’s this?” “Your anniversary gift for Shannon.” The note card is blank. He notices me noticing this and his face sours, the corners of his mouth dropping in scorn, pulling his beard down so he looks like an angry leprechaun. “I draw the line at writing sweet nothings to your wife and signing your name, even if my rendition of your signature is far superior to your own,” he says dryly, reaching down to square a pile of papers on my desk. “My signature is my signature. No one can best it, Dave.” He just snorts. I shake the box lightly. “What’s in here?” “Leather.” “Leather?” “Ninth-year anniversary gift. Leather is flexible and represents durability.” “I am well aware of what leather represents. What does it have to do with my marriage?” He snorts again. I frown and ask, “Just leather? What is it, a wallet?” “No! Of course not. The traditional gemstone for ninth anniversaries is lapis. I had a jewelry artist set chunks of lapis in gold, then stitch them onto a leather cuff bracelet.” Dave holds his phone up to me, showing a picture of the piece. “That’s incredible.” A short sigh of contentment, then a clipped, “You’re welcome” is how Dave takes a compliment. He doesn’t feed off praise. He feeds off his own hypercompetence. If efficiency were a drug, Dave would be Al Pacino on Scarface, covered in the fine white powder of his own brutal excellence. “The lighthouse is reserved for the evening?” I inquire, reaching for my briefcase. “Yes. Your suit’s in the car already.” Dave eyes me. “Where will you change?” I’m wearing jeans, hiking boots, and a Lacoste polo shirt, all Shannon’s favorites. The dark green shirt is a nod to my eyes, which she has spent almost a decade raving about.
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Provoking Odium
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Briella should leave now, before Mohini and Odium met. Seeing the two of them together would tear her soul apart. But then the doors opened, and the toes of two huge black boots became visible. She lifted her gaze and her breath caught. That footwear was attached to an equally large male. Odium was built like the warrior he was. The body armor barely contained his muscular form. Well-maintained weapons decorated the garment. His stance was strong. His hips were narrow. His shoulders were wide. Desire hit Briella like a missile, almost knocking her over. She’d researched E Models, had seen some of his kind on Mercury Minor, and she believed she knew what to expect. But her overly active imagination had fallen far short of envisioning Odium. His hair was the blackest black. His skin was gray. Not one scar marred his countenance. His eyes were dark. His face. Stars. His face. All the cyborgs she’d met had been handsome. Odium, however, was Mohini-levels of beautiful. He was that exquisite female’s physical match. Briella’s desolation escalated. She took a step backward. Odium’s nostrils flared. He turned his head, gazed directly at her. She froze in place. That was impossible. There were hundreds of beings stationed between them. He must merely be looking in her direction. Seeking to test that theory, she shifted to the right. His gaze tracked her. Her warrior had somehow located her in the crowd. Briella’s palms dampened. Her stomach knotted. Others sought to speak to Odium. He didn’t look at those beings. His focus was on her. It was heady, exciting, worrisome. She brushed her fingers over her goggles. They were in place, so her eyes were hidden. He saw her scars. Those couldn’t be concealed. But he couldn’t view the worst of her disfigurements, the part of her that had evoked fear and hatred in her kind, that made the toughest of warriors avoid her. She could endure his perusal, could stand her ground and-- Mohini approached Odium. His gaze flicked toward the female. Her friend was impossible for any male to ignore. And her cyborg was certainly a male. He vibrated with vitality, with power. Briella wanted him with every cell in her body. Mohini appeared as enthralled with Odium. Her eyes glowed with interest. Her lips moved. Her friend’s words were too softly spoken for Briella to hear. But she could imagine what was being said, and every flirtatious comment, every glance, every movement was a dagger stuck deep into her face. The pain, the torment lashed her again and again. It was unbearable. Panic filled her. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t stand by passively and watch her friend seduce the male she wanted. That was beyond her capabilities. She turned away from them and ran.
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: From the blurb: A reality TV star and a cupcake-baking football player pretend to be a couple in order to save his bakery in this sweet and sexy romance.Jada Townsend-Matthews is the most reviled woman in America after turning down a proposal on a reality dating show. When she comes home to lick her wounds, Jada finds herself working at San Diego's newest cupcake bakery, Sugar Blitz, alongside the uptight owner and professional football player Donovan Dell. When a reporter mistakenly believes Jada and Donovan are an item, they realize they can use the misunderstanding to their advantage to help the bakery and rehabilitate Jada's image. Faking a relationship should be simple, but sometimes love is the most unexpected ingredient. Fake it Till You Bake It is a sweet confection of a novel, the perfect story to curl up with and enjoy with a cupcake on the side. Publisher:St. Martin's Griffin Publication Date: June 21st, 2022 Purchase  My thoughts: There's something truly satisfying in feeling capable and knowing you can make something from scratch and it doesn't matter whether we're talking about a successful business or a perfect cupcake! Loved this new romcom from Jamie Wesley! Sweet and satisfying! Jada Townsend Matthews may appear confident and outspoken, but deep down she believes she is a disappointment to her brainy parents. To be fair, at twenty five Jada still needs to find her direction in life, but it doesn't have to be science or law. Jada's latest attempt to start her career of an influencer by participating in a TV reality show has backfired and now she is a bit of a pariah on social media. When her friend Olivia takes her to Sugar Blitz cupcake store, all Jada does is express her opinion and it's not her fault that the store owner Donovan Dell takes offence. The baking goods may be delicious, but the customers aren't there and that's the truth. In a twist of fate, Jada finds herself forced to take up a temporary job with Donovan and...both of them have a lot to learn. Yes, Donovan is a bit uptight, as having grown without financial stability, he craves logic, calm and order. He is also sweet and responsible...He is the proverbial good man who is hard to find. Jada, on the other hand, is both a ray of sunshine and a hurricane with her spontaneity and creativity. Opposites attract, grumpy versus sunshine, fake dating- pick your favourite trope, they are all here in this deliciously entertaining romcom. I loved the way the protagonists were so flawed and realistic. I knew Jada was my kind of girl when she focused all her attention on what brought the customers to the bakery on that particular day, why they wanted or rather needed their treat. My special mention and gratitude for the dyslexia rep! Light-hearted, charming, diverse- Fake It Till You Bake It is a fun summer read and I wholeheartedly recommend it. Thank you to NetGalley and St.Martin's Press for the review copy provided in exchange for an honest opinion.  JAMIE WESLEY has been reading romance novels since she was about 12 years old when her mother left a romance novel, which a friend had given her, on the nightstand. Jamie read it instead, and the rest is history. When she's not writing or reading romance, Jamie can be found watching TV, rooting for her favorite sports teams, and/or planning her next trip to Walt Disney World.
Cardinals
-- EXCERPT: Shortly after, Yasmeen finished her call with Sharit, first-class boarded. Another round of the third degree at the gate and she was finally shown to her seat. The first-class flight attendant was Lebanese. “Traveling can be such a trial for us these days,” she said. The flight attendant returned with a large glass of orange juice. “That is a beautiful niqāb!” she said, admiring the gold and lace. “Thank you. That’s most kind and thank you for this,” motioning to the juice. “I’m famished.” “We’ll serve dinner once we reach altitude. Enjoy your flight. I’m Nalia Khoury. Buzz me if you need anything at all.” Yasmeen thanked her in Lebanese. Bringing smiles to both their faces. She took out a laptop and continued reading about the Scottish woman. The file was extensive. She started over at the beginning again. She frowned. “Born 1283 AD.” she whispered. Math was never her strong suit; lazily she used the computer’s calculator function. Seven-hundred-forty years, nothing compared to Sharit’s two and half eons, but still impressive. she thought. She stood suddenly, angrily turning to find a white-haired man staring at her. Yasmeen wished mightily her khopesh was at her side. “Who is this guy?” she said to herself. A plane was no place for a brawl. She knew. “That explains the smirk on his face.” she said, yawning. Her privacy curtain closed. A moment later, there was a knock on her chair by the flight attendant. “Is everything alright?” her new Lebanese friend asked. “It seems I have gained a stalker.” Yasmeen looked back at the white-haired man. “Hmmm, not our first complaint about him. Wait one moment.” She disappeared into coach and a minute later she returned with what appeared to be an Air Marshall. They stopped at the white-haired man’s seat. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me to coach for the rest of the flight, then to security when we land.” the Marshall said. “But I didn’t…” “We can do it the easy way or the hard way.” The Marshall told the white-haired man, flashing his cuffs at him. Blondie knew when he was beaten. He glared at the flight attendant and looked toward Yasmeen’s seat. “Pal, she is not the problem. You keep your eyes back there. Don’t be giving her any dirty looks for doing her job. Go!” the Marshall said tersely. After they left, the attendant shrugged her shoulder at Yasmeen, then returned to where Yasmeen was sitting. “See, easy as pie. No more loutish behavior from him.” “Thank you.” Yasmeen touched the attendant’s hand. “Really, I appreciate you heading off trouble.” “That’s one less goon to. I have to be nice, too. I hope you like steak. I’ll be back soon.” Nalia told her. Yasmeen was truly relieved that the attendant headed off the confrontation. Sometimes her temper got the better of her. She gave up on reading and waited for dinner service. The smell of the meal filled the cabin. The attendant was right. The steak was excellent and the smell of the meal filled the cabin. “Thank you, Nalia. That was a much-needed distraction.” The attendant’s eyes lit up when Yasmeen used her name and she flashed a brilliant smile, too. Yasmeen was finally noticing how very attractive she was. Later, she came by after dinner. “Are you staying in London or connecting?” she asked. “I live there.” “Oh, how wonderful! I have another three-day layover after this flight.” Nalia said with her brightest smile. “Perhaps we could…” Nalia left the sentence unfinished. Yasmeen smiled back just as brightly. The possibilities behind that unfinished sentence improved her mood substantially. “I have some work when I land, but later I could meet you. Where are you staying?” Nalia removed a slip of paper from her blouse pocket, placed it in Yasmeen’s hand, and then gently closed her fingers around it. “I look forward to it.” Yasmeen enjoyed the rest of her meal. Nalia visited several more times as Yasmeen read Kellena Donnachaidh’s files. Each time, Nalia found somehow to brush against Yasmeen. Be it a simple touch of the hand or reaching across Yasmeen. Each contact was like a jolt of electricity, destroying her concentration. It was like a game for Nalia. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re beginning our descent to Heathrow,” The Captain announced. Yasmeen was so flustered by Nalia’s scent and touch that by the time that announcement was made she snapped her laptop shut and surrendered. She could remember nothing she read, only the scent of Nalia and the feeling of Nalia’s breasts brushing against her arms. Yasmeen took out her cellphone and called her boss. “Is there anything you need from me after I arrive at Heathrow?” she asked Sharit Hagel. “Why, Yasmeen Obiad, have you found a pleasant diversion?” Sharit asked. “Diverting is exactly the word that I would use.” Nalia looked directly at Yasmeen and rubbed her fingers together in a tsk, tsk manner, scolding her for using her phone as they landed. She smiled, laughing. Yasmeen smiled back as she explained to Sharit she would not be coming in when she landed. “Describe diverting,” Sharit told her. “Lebanese, 5’3, high cheekbones, cute as hell, smart, courteous, beautiful…” “Alright, alright” Sharit interrupted. “There’s nothing so important it can’t wait until Wednesday. Be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Wednesday morning, 10:00 a.m.” “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Yasmeen said excitedly.
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Her Dark Reflection
-- EXCERPT: ‘After today, you’ll be living in the palace,’ he said, eating up that sensible distance I had just erected with a few steps. ‘Are you ready?’ I turned to him, looking up at him from under my lashes. By the time he had knocked on my door an hour earlier, his arms full of boxes of clothes, I had long since made up my mind to seduce him. I had flushed as I’d pulled on the clocked stockings and white chemise that I sported beneath the gown I now wore, wondering if he’d imagined what I would look like in them. I traded in desire, but usually not my own. I had felt it before, of course, but this was disconcertingly intense. I felt like there was too much blood in my body, keeping my skin perpetually flushed and sensitive. It was inconvenient, especially since everything about him suggested that I needed to be on my guard. Fortunately, the solution to lust was usually a tumble between the sheets, and once my curiosity was sated, the desire went with it. I would have him, and then my head would clear. He held my gaze and leaned forwards a little. I tilted my head, my breath coming faster. The smell of him was heady, rattling my senses like a stiff drink. Then, he smirked. ‘Get your head on straight. Enchantment or no, you’re about to enter a den of vipers. Your wits need to be sharp.’ I let out my breath in a huff, flushing scarlet as I stormed away from him, heading straight for the door, mentally chastising myself as I did. Stupid little idiot. I wasn’t some maiden, to be played by a cunning knave. ‘Rhiandra,’ he called as I placed my hand on the doorknob, and I looked back at him, schooling my expression into one of blasé detachment. ‘Yes?’ ‘Have you forgotten something?’ He gestured at the mirror over the fireplace and I scowled at it for a few moments, hating it, before slowly walking over to it. I gritted my teeth and braced myself as I stepped before the glass. The beautiful girl in the small mirror on the dressing table was not the one that greeted me now. Staring back at me was my ruined face, the one that haunted my nightmares. All I wanted to do was get away from the sight, to run from this heinous reminder of what had happened to me, but I stood waiting. The feeling of phantom fingers brushed over me, over my scars, and my skin went strangely numb, then flushed ice cold. As soon as the sensation of cold had faded, I backed away from the fireplace, glancing at the regular mirror on the dressing table to make sure I was still whole and gleaming there. It seemed a particular kind of cruelty that the enchantment now woven into my mother’s mirror revealed my true face even as it hid it. I would be forced to look on my scars whenever I refreshed the glamour, and I wondered whether it was an intentional cruelty. ‘You can’t forget while you’re in the palace.’ Draven was still, his gaze sharp as he watched me. ‘Don’t wait until your time is almost up before you refresh the glamour.’ ‘My, how lucky I am to have your sage wisdom supplementing my poor feminine brain,’ I snapped, my lip curled with sarcasm, begging for a rise, but he remained as impassive as a stone wall. ‘What happens if I meet a druthi? Won’t they see the glamour?’ ‘You’ve nothing to fear from druthi. You could crack one over the head with your mirror and he wouldn’t understand what it is. A bunch of incompetent parasites.’ There was something in the way he said this, a simmering anger that drew my attention. ‘How can you be sure?’ I said. ‘They burn people every month for unsanctioned magic use. If they catch me—’ ‘They won’t.’ He sounded irritated now. ‘Trust me, Rhiandra.’ ‘I don’t trust you.’ He tilted his head and offered a vicious smile. ‘And yet, here you are.’ I sighed with frustration and turned for the door again. He was taking up too much space in this too-small room and I was ready to be out of it.
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The Starburst Effect
-- EXCERPT: Authors Note: Noah suffers from a Traumatic Brain Injury which effects a lot of his speech abilities. He often mixes up words or can’t get them out correctly. If you see a wrong word in his dialogue, it’s not a typo, I promise. You’ll have to read the book to see how it all comes together! Noah falls to his bed, lies back, and puts his hands behind his head, looking up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars that have probably been on his ceiling since he was a little boy. “I like music,” he admits. “Can’t really follow lyrics anymore, but…” He struggles for a moment, then sighs. “But you can still enjoy the music?” I guess. “Yeah.” There’s a hint of melancholy in his voice that makes me sad. How many things in his life have been affected, or even taken from him, because of his injury? His inability to follow a fast conversation or stay focused for long periods of time must make him miss out on so much. Wanting to take his mind off of whatever’s got him down, I cross the room and push his arm, forcing him to make room for me on the bed. He scoots over, and it feels natural to lie down beside him as if we’re just two friends hanging out for the millionth time. “What else do you do?” I ask, staring up at the stars with him. “What are your hobbies now, besides listening to awesome music?” He opens his mouth, then shuts it again. His brow furrows. Whatever he wants to say, he can’t come up with the answer. “I can’t remember the name,” he says with a grunt of frustration. He leans up and reaches over me to grab a TV remote off his nightstand. My breath catches. I don’t think he meant to practically lay on top of me, but my body seems to come alive from his nearness. And have I mentioned before how good he smells? I need to find out what cologne he uses and then spray my pillow with it or something. Oblivious to the chaos he’s just put my body through, he sits back, placing his pillow up against the headboard. I sit up with him, attempting to get my heart rate back to normal, while he finds whatever it is he’s looking for. Once the TV and a Netflix menu comes up, things seem to click back in place for Noah. “There it is.” He finds what he’s looking for in his Continue Watching list. I grin at the show he pulls up. “You watch Bob Ross?” He acts offended by the teasing tone in my voice. “Bob Rock is cool.” I hold my hands up. “I don’t disagree. I just didn’t figure you for the type.” He shrugs. “I like art. Plus, he talks slow enough, and it’s not over…over…” “Overstimulating?” “Yeah. Doesn’t hurt my head.” It makes sense. Bob Ross is very slow and soothing. I’m sure it’s one of the few shows he can follow fairly well. He clicks on an episode and leaves the show on mute. For a minute, we watch Bob Ross paint the beginnings of a mountain landscape while The Mad Hatters jam out softly in the room. It’s nice. “You ever painted along with him?” I ask, pointing at the screen. “I’ve always wanted to try it. I bet you could follow along. Or at least you could pause and rewind as much as you needed.” His eyebrows climb his forehead. He watches the screen, and after a few seconds, nods his head. “Maybe.” “Could be fun.” He perks up the tiniest bit, and there’s a touch of excitement in his voice when he says, “Let’s tire it. My mom will get us the…the…” He mimes painting. “She always wants me to try new things.” “Sounds good. You, me, and Bob Ross.” Noah nudges my shoulder with his. “Next weekend. It’s a date.” I smile to myself. Painting with Noah sounds fun. I could play it off as a “friends” thing, but something stops me. Taking a breath, I force myself to take a chance on something that might be strange but could also be amazing. “It’s a date,” I agree.
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