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Title: Of Blood and Destiny (Broken Bonds, #3)
Author: Raven More
Genre: PNR, Fantasy Romance
Cover Designer: Wynter Designs
Publication Date: Mar. 21st, 2023
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:
Life on a war-ravaged Earth is a dying experience. Finally, after years of tyranny, the rebellion rises. Once I rescue my fiancé Ryker Valant, I, and the rebel general, will fight to free our people. In a war where alliances shift and friends betray one another, will the final battle prove the truth of the prophecy the queen has so feared—her death—or will I lose everyone I love?
★✩★ NEW RELEASE ★✩★
Second Chance Forever
Book 1 Second Chance Series
By Rebecca Barber
Hosted by DS Book Promotions
AMAZON
Available on Kindle Unlimited
Blurb:
After losing the love of his life, Hayden Lawrence became a self-proclaimed bachelor, married to his job as one of Chicago’s finest.
Unable to move on, his focus turns to righting the wrongs no matter the costs. The last thing he’s looking for is love, but when fate steps in, everything changes.
He’s convinced Skye holds the key to unlocking the mystery haunting him, but more importantly, could she save Hayden from himself?
Second Chance Forever is complete standalone from best-selling author Rebecca Barber.
If you like angsty rollercoasters, heartbreakingly beautiful moments and tales of redemption then you’ll love Rebecca Barber’s enchanting Second Chance Series..
About Rebecca Barber:
Rebecca is a clumsy, introverted, bubble bath loving, chocoholic who’d rather read a book than go shopping. And don’t even mention shoe shopping!
Rebecca is a lucky girl – one of four kids to schoolteacher parents. Wife to a football obsessed husband. Aunt to the most crazy/adorable little girls. And sister to two very determined sisters and one easy going brother.
Rebecca lives in Canberra Australia and spends way too many hours a day working the day job.
She is a book whore who can easily (and happily) read a book from start to finish in one sitting and spends her spare time writing.
Follow Rebecca Barber Here:
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Title: THE HAUNTED LOST ROSE
Author: C.L. Bauer
Some secrets should stay hidden. If they come to light, darkness could weaken even the strongest of families.
Real estate agent Charlotte O’Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She’s going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother’s business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she’s the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears…one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte’s Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
Other Stores: https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer’s work? Check out her completed Lily List Mystery Series, or sign-up for her newsletter here.
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads.
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Kansas City, Missouri native C.L. Bauer is the author of three series in mystery genres. Originally a reporter, Bauer worked through jobs in marketing and advertising, to eventually take over the reins of her family’s century old business, Clara’s Flowers. Many of the stories used in her books are based on true events from years in the wedding and event flower world.
You can reach C.L. Bauer on all social mediums, Goodreads, and through her website, www.clbauer.com. You can check out her flower designs at http://www.clarasflowers.com Info Quick Find: Blogger Run Giveaway: For those that selected giveaway on the form, you’re authorized to giveaway one e-copy of The Haunted Lost Rose by Clara Bauer to one of your blog readers. This is a giveaway outside of the Rafflecopter, just for your readers.
Sean gave me a brief hug, and Paddy waved to me as he watched me exit the house. I noticed that the rose was still on the mantle. I quickly pulled out my phone and shot a photo. No one would even notice if I took the flower, but my brothers would kill me if I moved evidence. As it was, I was already leaving with an item that might be related to the murder. Maybe it was an additional house key? Or maybe someone had dropped it years ago in that old window seat, and it didn’t mean anything to anyone? But the voice didn’t want me to tell. My thoughts raced as I battled with the secret. I shut my eyes and made my final decision. I was leaving the house with it. I pulled my coat closer to me as I walked down the sidewalk. I slowed my steps after my first slip. The snow was slick to walk on. I carefully passed more and more police, news reporters, camera crews, and others before I arrived at my car.
As I began to slide uncontrollably toward my door, a black gloved hand held me up.
“Whoops,” I yelled. “Thank you so much.” The gentleman was holding me up in his arms, and I felt as though I was at his mercy for some reason.
“You’re welcome.” His voice was low. I heard some sort of an accent, but I just wasn’t sure what it was. I looked up slowly to gaze into the prettiest brown eyes. They were the color of my favorite candy bar. They were large, offering a girl enough room to get lost in them on a rainy day. Heck, on any kind of day. His dark hair was wavy, windblown, and had hints of a white hair here and there. Mmm, I never was that fond of salt and pepper hair, but just these little touches looked good, well looked great on him.
He was still holding me up, when I stiffened and reached out my hand to my car door.
“Here, let me get you to the door.” He slowly pushed me closer and made sure I had safely made it inside the vehicle. “Have a good day, Ms–”
“O’Donohue, Charlotte.”
He smiled. His smile could very well melt every snowflake on my coat. In fact, I was warm all over. “Ah, O’Donohue, as in every O’Donohue in this blessed city?”
I nodded. I just didn’t have the ability to speak right now as he smiled again.
“And I suppose you all know everything about everyone just like a large Irish family should?”
I cleared my throat. Come on, get a hold of yourself. “We wouldn’t be Irish if we didn’t. We all know secrets, but we just tell only one person.”
He nodded knowingly. “And that person tells another, and before you know it, everyone in the world knows everything?”
I nodded again and smiled like some goofy teenager. “It seems as though you’ve caught on.”
“I’ve only been here a short time, but I catch on very quickly.” He looked toward the house and pointed. “I need to go in there.”
“Then I need to warn you that there are a couple of those O’Donohue men in there.”
“I bet I can guess which ones. One of them called me. It was nice to save you.”
Save me? Right, from the fall. He began to shut my door, but I braced my arm against it. “I didn’t get your name.”
He shook his head shyly, and smiled again. He seemingly thought that could distract me. “No, you didn’t. Sorry, occupational hazard. Be careful out there.” He closed my door very unceremoniously.
I watched him pull his coat’s lapels up around his neck. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and began to walk toward the house. He turned around once to look back at me. I smiled like an idiot just in case he could see that far. Then he disappeared into the structure. I also saw a curtain move in one of the windows on the third floor. Then I saw another curtain flowing freely on the second floor, but I also saw a shape, a dark form. The curtain was pulled back and then fluttered back into place. It was nothing, probably just a draft, wasn’t it? I was only lying to myself. I knew what I saw. The spirit haunting that house was very concerned with the man who was entering the old Taylor Club, but I was more intrigued by the stranger.
I bit my lip. “Who was that?”
“Finally, you’re here.”
“Oh. Um.” Play it cool, Van. Don’t let the hot girl get you tongue tied. “Of course, where else would I be?” I flash her a dimpled smile.
“No, seriously. You’re an hour late. The least you could’ve done was call. We have a group of girls who are ready to see you take your clothes off. Let’s go.” Her dainty fingers wrap around my wrist. The warm contact sends a current of electricity coursing through my body as she tugs me up the stairs.
“Wait.” I plant my feet. “What are you talking about? Take my clothes off? I think I deserve dinner before I get naked.” I flash her a seductive smile.
“Dinner? Are you kidding? We weren’t told we had to feed you.” She drops my hand and rests it on her hip. “Look, we have a thousand dollars for you plus tips, if you’re good, to take your clothes off and shake your ass while we all ooh and ahh over your ripped abs. You have ripped abs, right?” She lifts the hem of my shirt, exposing my hard six pack. “Oh yes, that’ll do.” Her gaze lingers on my exposed stomach for a few extra seconds before she reluctantly drops the fabric. “So, are you coming or am I calling your boss to tell him you won’t do your job?”
Fuck. She thinks I’m a stripper for her party. But it pays a thousand dollars plus tips. Since I’m jobless, I could use the cash. I wager the battle in my head for a split second and, fuck it. First time for everything. “Lead the way.”
She spins around and climbs the stairs, the shimmering sequins on the ass of her dress hypnotizing as her hips sway back and forth. As the giggles and laughter grow louder, I second guess myself. I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve gotten naked before, just never with more than one girl watching.
“Our entertainment has arrived!” the bombshell announces to her friends.
Rain met my back, cool against the warm, humid tang of the air. I made quick work of inspecting each tire, but I found the problem before I’d finished making the rounds. The rear passenger tire was deflating. I swore under my breath and kicked at the flat tire.
Lily’s door opened, and she hopped out, glaring at me like I’d called her the worst type of flower name. Then her gaze dropped to the tire.
“So this is my fault, huh?” She propped her hands on her hips, staring at me expectantly.
“Get inside,” I told her, wiping rain from my forehead. “I’ll handle this.”
“Well, if it’s my fault, I should help, right?”
I sighed, heading for the bed of the truck. I knew there had to be a spare tire somewhere. Carson wouldn’t have a truck without a spare, right?
“I’m talking to you,” Lily said, following close behind.
“Yeah, I hear you.”
“Well, if I apparently can cause tires to deflate simply from my mere existence, then surely I can help fix them by standing near you?”
I heaved a sigh as I lowered the tailgate. I’d had the forethought to cover Lily’s things with a tarp before we left, but I hadn’t exactly canvassed the truck to see where a spare tire might be lurking. I pushed some things around, looking for a secret wheel well. “Well, I think we can safely say that you standing next to me isn’t helping. So thanks, but no thanks.”
She let out a frustrated noise, glancing up to the heavens. “Colton Winters, you are such a jerk. Do you know that?”
I did know that. But it was part of my strategy. I needed her to hate me, because if she didn’t, then I’d most certainly begin pursuing her.
And I couldn’t have that. Not when so much of my life was built around transience. Around have a good fucking time. Around one-and-done.
Lily was annoying. Not only that, she was smart, interesting, and getting more beautiful to me by the day. She was dangerous, at least to life as I’d known it thus far. I’d had enough disruptions in the past year, between discovering my dad died and then reconnecting with my brothers in Winter Harbor. Not to mention leaving my former life behind, which I’d quite enjoyed as an international vagabond.
I didn’t need to add someone like Lily to my long list of unexpected—and mostly unwelcome—life changes.
I must have remained silent for too long because she continued. “Whatever. You know what? It doesn’t matter. I thought you were maybe a regular guy underneath all the barbs and the shitty aloofness, but I was wrong.”
“It’s ’cause you love regular guys so much, huh?” My words tumbled out before I could even decide otherwise. I knew I shouldn’t go there, but it was too late. The dam had broken.
“Huh?”
“Regular guys. Like Dennis. With the polos and the khakis.” I smirked as I glanced at her, palming the tailgate. We were both mostly soaked with rain by now, but I didn’t mind. It was humid, and I loved the way the rain made her shirt stick to her chest. I’d been staring at that bare shoulder all day, wondering what it tasted like, and now that it was wet and shiny, all I wanted to do was lick it. “And probably the completely lackluster performance in bed, too.”
She huffed, crossing her arms. “No, that’s— No. I don’t look for that. I just—”
“What is it, Lilium?” I squatted to peer beneath the truck and spotted the bulging spare wheel well. I made quick work of opening it. Mud smeared my forearms as I tugged the tire out and hauled it to the passenger side. I snatched the tools next, wiping my rain-soaked face with the collar of my T-shirt. I took Lily silence as my permission to continue needling her.
“You want me to be a regular guy, don’t you?” I kneeled in front of the tire, glancing up at her before I got to work jacking up the truck. “Too bad for you, I’m not.” Her rain-soaked shirt was plastered to the contours of her body. I jerked my gaze away. After our surprisingly hot kisses, followed by our first genuine connection, I was ten seconds from losing every ounce of cool around her. Seeing her more of her body did not help matters. “Just let the fucking jerk fix the tire and get inside the truck, okay?”
“No.” She crossed her arms again. I had to admit, her defiance was hot. But she didn’t know that she was playing with fire.
“Lily,” I said, more forcefully this time, as I finished jacking up the truck with a frustrated burst of air. “I need you out of my sight, okay? Let me fucking fix this tire.”
“Why can’t I be here? I should supervise. Make sure you’re not being a regular guy about it.”
I ground my teeth, weighing my options. I did want her out of my sight. But more than that, I wanted to see how far I could push the envelope. I knew there could be no way she’d be into me—I’d made sure of it over the past months of knowing her. But what was the harm of finding out for sure?
“If I have to stare at your perfect tits heaving out of your top for even one more second, I’m gonna explode. And I mean that in exactly the way you think I do. So just get. In. The. Fucking. Truck.”
Realization washed across her face. Her cheeks went pink again, and I was hard as a rock watching her. Fuck. I focused on ignoring Lily as I started loosening the first lug nut.
After what I’d said, I didn’t know what I expected from her. But I certainly didn’t expect her to step over my arms—as I finally removed the lug nut—and tower over me with a satisfied smile on her face.
“Lily—”
“If I have to watch you working on this truck with your muscles flexing in this rain for even one more second, then I’m going to explode. So what are we going to do about it?”
I gaped up at her, caught between awestruck and horny. I knew what we were going to do about it. Or at least what I’d love to do about it.
“Well, I’m pretty sure I suggested the solution,” I snapped, dropping the wrench as I inspected her bare calves from this close. Goose pimples covered her skin, flaring where my breath hit her legs. “Which was to separate us entirely. But it looks like you don’t want a regular guy after all.”
She shook her head, staring down at me with raw passion and vulnerability slashed across her face. I caught her drift. I was good at catching the drift when it came to situations like these. I touched the outsides of her ankles, dragging my fingertips slowly up the sides of her legs.
“What happens on the road from Portland,” she said, her voice growing shakier the higher my hands ran. “Stays on the road from Portland.”
But every time she rocked herself to gape out the left or right window, a burst of color erupted from between her shifting thighs, the color of bright lava, and it made my groin just as hot. I imagined myself sliding up the privacy screen, yanking aside her panties, and burying myself balls-deep in her hot, wet pussy. But then I’d think again about how much the doorman had wanted to do that, too, and I seethed.
I’d thought it would be easy to keep my hands off Emi. But since we’d cleared the air, since she’d made friends with my father, since she’d turned me on with her jealousy in the office… it was all changing.
I reminded myself what was at stake. If things didn’t work out with each other, I might put Palms back up for Astrid. And it would devastate my dad.
What was at stake was far more than getting laid. More than falling in love. Because seeing my dad suffer over the loss of my mom, I knew love never ended well. I couldn’t let sex and my raging libido or some feelings fuck this up. I grabbed my wool coat and laid it over her legs.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“That dress. I told you to wear tights with it.”
“I didn’t have time to get any. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been painting like all day and night.”
I had noticed. And her unexpected grit and devotion was just another thing that added to the attraction… fuck.
She flicked the coat off her legs and considered me playfully. A cheeky little smile challenged me. She had no idea what kind of push-pull repressed torture was raging inside me.
She bobbled her head, joking. “No man will tell me how to dress. It’s up to you to not look or touch. It’s not up to me to censor myself.”
I loved how she was her own woman. But I really needed her to cover those legs. Like now. My pants grew tighter with every move she made. And now, her sweet rebellion was making me even harder because it was so damn attractive.
I raised an eyebrow. “Well, darling feminist wife of mine, I have news for you. You only get the money and the fame if you get good reviews playing this starring role.” I picked up the coat from aside her and tossed it back on her lap. “Put on your costume.” And then the image of that fucking footman returned and, as if some green-eyed goblin used me as a puppet, I said, “My eyes only, Emi.”
I hadn’t meant to sound so possessive. But she really needed to play by the rules before one of us broke them.
She paused for a beat, and her face searched mine. Was I serious? She didn’t fucking care if I was. This was Emi we were dealing with, after all.
She brushed the coat aside again and stared me in the eyes defiantly.
She tugged the middle part of her dress fabric down an inch further between her legs, rolled her lips together, then let them pop.
“I have a question…” she narrowed her eyes, saucy and brazen. “… my dear husband. Am I covering up for all these so-called people looking at me? Or am I covering up for you?”
I should have known she’d be the first to dare. The first to cross the line. The first to play with fire.
I gave in to temptation, “Which would you rather?”
She pursed her lips. “Well… I asked you first.”
I was better at silence than she was. I’d starve her out. It only took a few seconds…
“Both,” she said. “You want me to cover up for both. You don’t want to see it. You don’t want them to see it.”
She stated as though this was facts, but clearly, she still questioned. It would have been better if I’d left her in that state of wonder. Let her think I didn’t like what I saw. That I wasn’t turned on. But I remembered I’d left her feeling insecure once. And I sure as hell wouldn’t do it twice. Not after the way she’d carried my stupid comment from years ago. Not after the way I’d seen just how messed up CJ was.
“Em, trust me… I want to see it.” I gazed at her sincerely. “But it’s better for us both if I don’t.”
She considered me, satisfaction glowing her cheeks. And then her expression shifted, flirty, but a hell of a lot more sultry than before. Shit. Paris was in the air, and we were both getting high on it.
The result would soon show in my pants. I thought she’d drop it there. It all would have been so much easier if she had.
“Don’t you think being out as husband and wife will be easier this weekend if you let yourself like me just a little bit more than you do?”
“I like you plenty. More now than I used to.”
“I like you more now, too…”
My heart stuttered, but I said what had to be said. “But this is a professional arrangement.”
“And if it wasn’t?”
God, I loved those flirty brown bedroom eyes… they were totally, utterly irresistible.
I shuffled forward and placed my knee between her thighs, moving my leg side to side until she let her thighs fall open, revealing those brightly colored panties. “If it wasn’t, Wife, I’d have a sliver of satin between my teeth right now.”
“Subtly evocative, poignant, deep and infused with startling images that bring out the poet’s zest for live, positive outlook and irreplaceable love for poetry, Whispers of A Snowfall is a short and crisp collection of soul stirring poems by Rashika Ranjini.” – The Literature Times
“Ranjini’s writing style is both lyrical and poignant, and her verse has a musical quality that is both calming and haunting. The poems in this collection are often short and to the point, but they pack a powerful punch, leaving a lasting impression on the reader.” – The Rise Insight magazine
“Another strength of this book is the author’s ability to explore complex emotions through her writing. Whether exploring themes of solitude, loss, or renewal, Ranjini’s poems are infused with a sense of introspection and contemplation. Her words flow seamlessly, painting vivid and memorable images in the reader’s mind, and her delicate and understated use of language is truly a joy to behold.” – The Rise Insight magazine
“The writing style is not flowery or exaggerated. The words are used with precision, vocabulary is apt and elusive of the thought as much as the descriptive aspect of the imagery. The poet showcases how winter is a great time to get away from the hustle bustle of the world outside and coil under a blanket with a cup of warm drink and enjoy the cosiness. This book then becomes a perfect winter companion for the reader.” – The Literature Times