PROMO: Sweet on You (425 Madison #13) by K.C. Enders

Contemporary Romance – 138 Pages

About the Book:

Lyla Dupree
She’s a bubbly, sugary sweet pastry chef. Living her best life in the Big Apple. Luxury apartment. Successful patisserie. Everything is great–better than great. It’s absolutely perfect.

Raleigh Jacobs
He’s grumbly and growly–and so very out of his element–working on a temporary assignment in NYC. He wants to do his job and get out. Back to the clean air in the mountains near Denver.

Throw them together.
Mix things up.
Turn up the heat and what you get is, quite simply, alarming.

After all, 425 Madison is the perfect place to fall in love.

Excerpt (on behalf of the author and Forever Write PR):

The door next to me swings open, and a giant of lean muscle, scruffy cheeks, and deep dark brown scowling eyes steps out into the hallway, startling me.

With a really unladylike gasp, I stumble backward until my back hits the doorjamb. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I squeak. “You scared me. Welcome. Kent emailed me that he’d sublet his place for a couple of months, though he didn’t tell me anything about you. Not that he needed to, I mean, it’s none of my business, really. I’m Lyla Dupree, it’s lovely to meet you.” I thrust my hand out to shake, but he just stares, so I let it fall back to my side.

I’m rambling, and I can’t seem to stop. It’s my thing when I’m nervous, but my roommate Sasha tells me it comes off as bubbly and kind of sweet. From the look on this guy’s face, though, I wonder if she’s just been blowing sunshine up my butt because he looks pissed. And that just makes me even more nervous, so the bubbly word vomit continues.

“You picked an amazing place to live while you’re here in the city. Where are you from? Somewhere out west, maybe? I mean, not that I know. I already told you that, so it’s just a guess, but with the flannel and the beanie…” Dear Jesus, now would be a perfect time for me to shut up. “Anyway, I just finished testing a new recipe, I’m a chef. I don’t know if Kent mentioned that when you talked about the sublet, but he should have. I mean, I do pastries, and my roommate Sasha does more of the real food. Oh my God, she makes the best mac and cheese, truly she’s amazing. Kent said it was a good thing he had to leave for this temporary assignment in London. Something about gaining weight if he lived next to us for too much longer. I don’t know, though, I think something might have happened between him and Sasha, you know? They both kind of started acting funny and then the next thing I know he’s taking a job in England for a year. But, whatever. Do you like sweets? Cakes, cookies, pastries? Any food allergies I should know about?”

And, cue uncomfortable silence.

*As always, by clicking on the above cover it will bring you to the Amazon purchase page.



PROMO: Almost Just Friends (Wildstone #4) by Jill Shalvis

Contemporary Romance – 384 Pages

About the Book:

New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis returns to Wildstone with the touching story of finding your place in the world—and the people who make it home.

Piper Manning’s about as tough as they come, she’s had to be. She raised her siblings and they’ve thankfully flown the coop. All she has to do is finish fixing up the lake house her grandparents left her, sell it, and then she’s free.

When a massive storm hits, she runs into a tall, dark and brooding stranger, Camden Reid. There’s a spark there, one that shocks her. Surprising her further, her sister and brother return, each of them holding their own secrets. The smart move would be for Piper to ignore them all but Cam unleashes emotions deep inside of her that she can’t deny, making her yearn for something she doesn’t understand. And her siblings…well, they need each other.

Only when the secrets come out, it changes everything Piper thinks she knows about her family, herself…and Cam. Can she find a way to outrun the demons? The answer is closer than she thinks—just as the new life she craves may have already begun.


The last time a woman had ordered Cam to strip had been a very different scene altogether, and it’d been a while. Generally speaking, he liked to be behind the wheel in most situations, but he’d never had any complaints about a woman driving in his bed. “Interesting bedside manner.”

“Okay,” she said. “How about strip, please.”

He laughed, and he realized that until tonight, it’d been a damn long time for that too. “Well, since you asked so nicely . . .” But still he hesitated.

“Trust me, I’ve seen it all before.”

He pulled off his shirt, wincing when the cotton stuck to the deepest slice across his chest.

Piper blinked, and for the first time all night, appeared short of words.

It was pretty damn cute, especially with the mud on her nose. “Thought you’ve seen it all before.” She bit her lower lip, eyes suddenly hooded, and he couldn’t resist teasing her. “So, how do I stack up?”

That got her, and she rolled her eyes. “Like you don’t know. Sit.”

The couch seemed too . . . personal, so he sat on her coffee table. She dropped to her knees at his side and doctored up first the cut on his left palm from where he’d nicked himself in his dad’s kitchen, and then the two slices on his left biceps, and then the biggest one across his chest, during which time he did his best to ignore the feel of her soft breath on his skin and failed.

When she’d finished, she looked down at his cargoes and saw the blood seeping through from his thigh. Rising to her feet, she stepped back, gesturing for him to lose the pants too.

“Seriously,” he said. “Doesn’t even have to be dinner. An appetizer would work.”

“If you’re real good, I’ll give you a sticker.”

“How about letting me look at your secret secret bucket list instead?”

Her eyes narrowed. “How about we stop talking now?”

“Wait.” He cocked his head. “Does this mean you also have a secret bucket list? And possibly a not-so- secret bucket list?”

She had hands on hips; a fresh, clean gauze in one hand, antibiotic ointment in the other, her expression dialed to Not Feeling Playful.

With a rough laugh, he stood and took the gauze and ointment from her. “I got this one, Doc.” And then he gestured for her to turn around.

She did with a smirk, and then spoke over her shoulder. “Didn’t peg you for the shy type.”

“Oh, I’m not shy.” He shoved his icy, muddy, wet cargoes to his thighs, and yeah, the cat had come within two inches of de-manning him. “Just didn’t want to have to fight you off.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I always get verbal consent first. And I bet you didn’t want me to see your tighty-whities.”

He gritted his teeth as he cleaned out the cut. Son of a bitch, that cat had gone deep. “They’re not tight and they’re not white.”

“Batman undies?”

“Commando,” he said, and that shut her up. When he’d finished and pulled his pants back up, he lifted his head and found her facing him. His brows went up. “See anything you like?”

Instead of answering, she blushed. And he grinned because, yeah. She’d definitely seen something she liked.


From Almost Just Friends by Jill Shalvis, published by William Morrow. Copyright © 2020 by Jill Shalvis. Reprinted courtesy of HarperCollinsPublishers


I don’t know about you, but after reading that excerpt…I’m thinking this could be one very interesting and HOT book! Happy reading!

*As always, by clicking on the above cover it will bring you to the Amazon purchase page.



PROMO: The Reilly Thanksgiving Invitational Story: As Told by Those Born of the Greatest Generation by Brent Parrott & Bryan Renfro

Sports Biography, Memoirs – 400 Pages

About the Book:

In 1960, on the front lawn of Martha Turner Reilly Elementary in Northeast Dallas, a tradition was born. A group of seventh-grade boys captured the free time before Thanksgiving dinner to engage in a game of touch football. It was a good day to play. So good, in fact, that the game would resume each year at the same time in the same place. Through the ebb and flow of lives, loves, and responsibilities, the Reilly Thanksgiving Invitational continued for five decades.

The Reilly Thanksgiving Invitational Story offers a first-hand glimpse into an era long past and captures the essence of tradition, friendship, life lessons, history, culture, the ups and downs, happiness, and sadness for those lost, over decades.  Today, Alzheimer’s has touched most of the 22 members and a portion of the book proceeds will be donated to Alzheimer’s research.

The book released November 2019 and can be purchased on the book’s website and on Amazon.


The Reilly Thanksgiving Invitational Story:
As Told by Those Born of the Greatest Generation

For more than a half-century, a group of friends from Texas assembled to play touch football each Thanksgiving Day morning on the front lawn of their old elementary school. As the men aged, their determination and love of the game stayed strong. After the final game in 2009, reporter John  Anders noted:

“They arrived on walkers and in iron lungs…Grandchildren would drop them off and perhaps stay behind to serve as stretcher-bearers following the conflict.” 

Team leaders Brent Parrott and Bryan Renfro collaborated to memorialize and reminisce about this incredible 50-year tradition, their lives, the times, and the game, in the new book The Reilly Thanksgiving Invitational Story, which released Nov. 2019.

About the Authors:

Texas natives, Brent Parrott and Bryan Renfro are life-long friends and the co-authors of The Reilly Thanksgiving Invitational Story. 

Brent Parrott is a writer, former technology executive, and teacher, who currently serves as Board Chairman for the charter schools of Pioneer Technology & Arts Academy. Bryan Renfro graduated in 1970 from the University of Texas at Arlington and was drafted into the Army the following year during the Vietnam war. He was the editor and sports writer for Sound Off, the base’s newspaper in Fort Meade, Maryland. For five decades, he served as the organizer and “Commissioner” of the annual Thanksgiving touch football game known locally as the Turkey Bowl that is chronicled in the book.

For more information visit:

I don’t usually post biographies, but when I looked into the book I learned that the places referenced in it were extremely close to where I lived when I lived in Texas, which made it a little intriguing. It also discusses Alzheimer’s which is a subject near and dear to my heart. ~Jennifer



PROMO: Just a Little More (425 Madison #10) by Allie York

Contemporary Romance – RELEASE DATE 1/13/2020

About the Book:

Dream career – check.
Amazing luxury apartment – check.
Stable relationship (with the sexiest man ever) – check.
I finally have my life together. Or I did until the universe decided to throw one heck of a curveball.
Nothing could prepare me for the rollercoaster I’ve boarded.

Move from Alabama to NYC – check.
Job at the hottest restaurant in the city – check.
Stable relationship (with the sexiest woman ever) – check.
Five years after my last heartbreak and I’m finally living my best life.
Everything is perfect, until the surprise of a lifetime.
My future and my past collide, turning my world upside down -when I’m finally starting to get things right.

Piper and Derek are in for just a little more – after all, 425 Madison is the perfect place to fall in love!


PROMO: Broken Promise (Beyond Series #1) by Andrea Smith

Paranormal (Ghost), Time Travel Romance – 234 Pages

About the Book:

What does a mob capo want with a girl from the sticks?


But this story needs to be told from the only person who’s alive to do it. For twenty-seven years, I’ve flitted through life oblivious to my gift. And then one, freezing snowy night, fate stepped in to help me find it. Of all places, in a remote cemetery outside of Chester, West Virginia!

My name is Parrish.

I’m a model.
I’m a lover.
And apparently, I can communicate with the dead.

But this isn’t my story, it’s theirs. Karlie and Dominic’s. And trust me when I say their love has survived from beyond. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t lived it myself.

Come take this journey with me. You won’t be disappointed . . .

Adult Content. Sexual situations.

*** ON SALE FOR $.99 ***


I wasn’t sure how long I had sat inside of my vehicle, dusted with the white powder from the deployed air bag, in a hazy fog.

I knew I was quite a distance from the highway that I’d slid off. The evening darkness blanketed the cemetery, and sheets of icy sleet continued to blow around my incapacitated SUV. There was smoke seeping out from underneath the hood.

I slowly took inventory of my body parts. Everything seemed to be attached. Some wetness trickled down the side of my face. I ran my fingers against my cheek, capturing the droplets of blood from a cut somewhere on my head. I realized it must’ve been my own ring that had cut it when my head slammed against my fingers that had been gripping the steering wheel like a vise. The top of my skull was pounding with the pain that came with having had it slammed against the roof of the SUV.

I unfastened my seat belt, moving mechanically; still very much dazed by the situation, unable to think clearly as to what needed to be done in order for me to get the hell out of this place and see about getting help.

That’s when I saw her. A young woman standing there all alone in the cemetery.

What the hell was she doing out in this brutal winter storm, wandering around in a freakin’ graveyard? It was beyond my comprehension, but still I was relieved that at least I wasn’t alone out here.

She was standing off to the right, about ten yards from where my vehicle had slammed to a stop against a stone mausoleum. There was a light-post behind her that was next to the empty parking lot. It allowed me to get a better view of her.

She certainly wasn’t dressed for this type of weather–no coat, no sweater, just wearing a plain black, tailored coatdress with hose and heels.

The hell?

She beckoned for me to come over to her, which under the circumstances, I found to be a bit cheeky. After all, I was the injured party here, and it would’ve been nice if she had made the effort to come over to see if I needed help, or maybe call for emergency assistance. I wasn’t sure where the hell my purse had ended up throughout all of this.

I managed to push the car door open, and slid out of the seat, my feet hitting the wet, slippery ground. I was dizzy, but the chick continued to beckon me over, as if she were in a hurry to get somewhere.


Maybe her boyfriend had ditched her by the side of the road, but damn she had to be freezing cold.

As I staggered closer to where she was standing, I could see that she looked to be in her early twenties. She had thick blond hair–it looked to be permed, because it was super curly, falling well past her shoulders. Retro chick, I guessed, but very pretty regardless.

“Hi,” I called out. “I kind of slid off the road back there and my car isn’t going anywhere for now. What’s your story?”

I saw her lips moving: but with the wind and the sleet, I couldn’t hear a damn thing she was saying.

“Say again?” I called out as I got closer.

She didn’t answer, but kept pointing to the headstone that she was standing next to, her hands still beckoning me to come closer. She wanted me to look at what was written on the grave marker apparently.


I did my best to squat down and focus my bleary eyes on the marker. There wasn’t a lot of light left, but enough filtered through from the lamp post that I could finally make out what was on it.

Karlie Lynn Masterson, Born: May 15, 1965, Died May 29, 1987.


Was this supposed to mean something? I looked back up to see a smile cross over the young woman’s face as if I should totally understand what it was she wanted me to know, except that I didn’t.

“Look,” I said, my head still throbbing. “I really need to get some help here. I think I need medical attention. Do you have a cell phone, or can you at least point me in the direction of the nearest house or business?”

Her lips moved again, and I strained to hear what she was saying, but it was a silent whisper.

“What?” I asked loudly, “I can’t hear what you’re saying . . .”

“Let Dominic know,” she whispered. “Tell him everything.”

I felt her words more than I heard them as she walked closer to where I stood frozen in confusion.

“Okay, who the hell is Dominic?” I asked, “And what exactly is it that I’m supposed to tell him?”

This chick was seriously freaking me out.

She got closer and I couldn’t bring myself to move away from her. It was if some magnetic force had taken control of my body, and it was drawing her to me.

“You need to tell him how I died,” she whispered loudly enough that for the first freakin’ time I didn’t have to ask her to repeat it. I totally wished that I hadn’t heard it.

Holy shit . . . she’s a ghost?

I put my hand up to my forehead, feeling the blood oozing out of the gash on my scalp. How hard had I banged it? Was I hallucinating here?

“Uh, if you’ll excuse me,” I continued, trying my damnedest to get my feet to move, “I think I’ll pass on that. None of this makes any sense at the moment, and I’d really like to get the hell out of here.”

I tried my best to move away from her, but whatever magnetic force was at play here, wouldn’t let me budge. She came even closer to me, and I felt the warmth from her radiate into me. It was then that I heard her whisper, “Move over, I’m driving.”

I felt an immediate lightness envelop me as her body physically merged with mine. I felt my own body shiver and convulse at the intrusion, but there was no pain involved whatsoever.

Unfamiliar warmth filled me entirely. I could feel a very strong tingling sensation as it did, causing me to blessedly become numb to the pain that I’d been feeling in my head since the accident. Then the heaviness of her possession settled in as if it belonged there.

Suddenly, I could no longer feel the elements of the wind and the sleet that had been assaulting my skin. I was shrouded in silent darkness as my body sank down into a comfortable slumber where there was no longer any pain or confusion.

I was no longer in control of anything, but I wasn’t afraid at all. Instead I felt the clear realization of a new purpose seeping into my consciousness, erasing all the data banks belonging to me, and replacing them with something else . . . with someone else’s data banks. I somehow had the knowledge as I slipped into this strange abyss, that when I came out of it, I would be someplace else . . . would be someone else . . . and it would no longer be my life anymore.

*As always, by clicking on the above cover it will bring you to the Amazon purchase page.


PROMO: A Touch of Death (The Outlands Pentalogy #1) by Rebecca Crunden

Post Apocalyptic Science Fiction – 303 Pages

About the Book:

A thousand years in the future, the last of humanity live inside the walls of the totalitarian Kingdom of Cutta. The rich live in Anais, the capital city of Cutta, sheltered from the famine and disease which ravage the rest of the Kingdom. Yet riches and power only go so far, and even Anaitians can be executed. It is only by the will of the King that Nate Anteros, son of the King’s favourite, is spared from the gallows after openly dissenting. But when he’s released from prison, Nate disappears.

A stark contrast, Catherine Taenia has spent her entire life comfortable and content. The daughter of the King’s Hangman and in love with Thom, Nate’s younger brother, her life has always been easy, ordered and comfortable. That is, where it doesn’t concern Nate. His actions sullied not only his future, but theirs. And unlike Thom, Catherine has never forgiven him.

Two years pass without a word, and then one night Nate returns. But things with Nate are never simple, and when one wrong move turns their lives upside down, the only thing left to do is run where the King’s guards cannot find them – the Outlands. Those wild, untamed lands which stretch around the great walls of the Kingdom, filled with mutants and rabids.


‘But there are things not even Crown and Council can steal and control. Not my mind, not my heart, not my soul.’

His words made her smile with deep, indescribable empathy. More and more she was understanding how so many had flocked to the Underground Club. Even desolate and ravaged, Nate spoke with passion few could emulate. And she knew what he meant. She had never had a choice. Of late it had begun to bother her, too. Like a wound that was slowly festering. Perhaps she never would have known such a feeling if she hadn’t run away. If she didn’t spend so much time now thinking of what could have been. What ought to have been.


*As always, by clicking on the above cover it will bring you to the Amazon purchase page.


PROMO: The Rise of a King (Fallen Angel, Immortal Romance Book #2) by Azriel Hope

Paranormal Romance – 421 Pages

About the Book:

The second book in the Fallen Angel, Immortal Romance Series takes us from the Arcades and the kingdom of dark angels to The Cirque, a fairy realm where Farrow’s brother Prince Drayden rules. Born half fairy and half-fallen angel, Drayden possesses both goodness and evil.

After being told by the Gods of Estancia that Farrow can’t keep Rayelynn in the Arcades, he risks losing the only being he has ever loved to keep her safe. By leaving Rayelynn in the Cirque with Drayden, Farrow fears she will be enticed by the fairy life she deserves and the brother who has already professed his desire to claim her for himself.

Drayden is a gracious host to the sweet and powerful fairy-mortal halfling who is carrying his brother’s children…but will risk his very soul to have her.

As Farrow becomes king of the Arcades, he works to prove to the gods he’s worthy of Rayelynn’s goodness and love, while Drayden falls deeper into a darkness that will destroy them all.

The Rise of a King is the second book in a trilogy. It has some dark themes and sexual situations that involve many polyamorous characters…who are immortal, slightly wicked, loving and oh so much fun. I recommend reading The Fall of Arcades before this book.

Excerpt – when you go to a wishing tree you never know what will happen…:

I gathered Rayelynn into my arms. “It was all an illusion. Trust me, I watched you. You and I are the only ones in the forest. Your hand satisfied your love-starved body.” I caressed the side of her dress. “I could pacify that ache for you. Farrow would never have to know.” She abruptly pushed me off.

“How dare you!” Her anger was cute.

“How dare I not? I’m certainly more satisfactory than this,” I laughed as I gently took her hand and tangled her fingers in my own.

“Please don’t embarrass me.” She dropped her head.

“I’m sorry she didn’t give you what you wanted.” I pulled her into an embrace. “You deserve love, Rayelynn.” My hand stroked down her back, comforting. “I was only teasing. It’s better than outright anger or seduction … I’m trying.”

“I have no one,” she quietly said.

“You have me,” I whispered as I drew her in close.

“I wish I trusted you,” she said softly to herself.

“No,” I caressed my finger over her sweet lips. “You wish you trusted you.”

Before she was able to stop me, my mouth claimed those delicious lips as my tongue gently begged entrance. Beyond her better judgment, she let me in, if only for a second. It was enough. My heart swelled with my sex, and I held her to me until she gently pulled away.

“I … I … I,” she stammered, and my head spun.

“I’m the devil.” I kissed her flushed cheek and adjusted the painful erection tightening against my pants.

I smoothed her hair from her face and marveled at her beauty.

“You need a friend someone who understands you.” I took her hand to my mouth and planted another soft kiss there. “So do I.”

I stared at her for a long time, just drinking in her gorgeous eyes.

“Do you understand me?” Her voice was tiny and distant.

My finger trailed the softness of her skin as it coursed down her cheek. “I’m the one with two lovers, I can’t choose between,” I laughed.

“That’s not what I mean.” Panic struck her features.

“It’s exactly what you mean.” My voice was kind and caring as I leaned in to kiss her again.

This time she let me in and succumbed to me. My body trembled with desire as she so innocently gave herself over. Before the tree of life, we kissed each other with true love. Was it everlasting love? No. It was only momentary, but enough for us, by Cirquadian law, to be wed.

With that, I lifted her into my arms and we flew back to the Cirque.


*As always by clicking on the above cover it will bring you to the Amazon purchase page.