Monday, August 31, 2015

Blitz: Impossible Choice by Sybil Bartel


Book two of Unchecked

After her parents were murdered, Layna Blair spent three years on the run—until Marine Sergeant Blaze Johnson stepped in and saved her. With him, Layna knew safety for the first time…but two weeks after shipping out for another tour in Afghanistan, Blaze comes home early.

When Layna sees the jagged wounds covering his body, every truth she thought she knew is destroyed. Blaze is distant and angry and though her heart is shattered, Layna desperately tries to keep their relationship together in the face of another tragedy. When the tenuous bonds holding them together are ripped apart by a revenge-hungry maniac, Layna must trust her survival instinct and bury her past for good.

But the enemy is two steps ahead, and before she can take action, Layna’s hand is forced by his deadly demands—save herself or save the man who risked his life for her freedom. Blaze saved her once. This time it’s her turn to protect him.

91,000 words

Impossible Choice by Sybil Bartel 
(Unchecked #2) 

Published by: Carina Press
Publication date: August 31st 2015
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance





His intense gaze fixed on mine, he held out his hand but he didn’t say anything.
I slipped my fingers into his and the heat that shot up my arm and spread through me settled in like a low, constant pulse of awareness that made everything inside me tingle. I looked up and was startled to see him frowning. “What’s wrong?”
The crease in his brow went deeper and the seriousness in his eyes twisted like hesitation. “Not one thing.”
His words not matching his expression, he looked distracted, bordering on nervous. But that was impossible. Blaze Johnson didn’t get nervous, ever. “Blaze?”
He brought my hand to his lips and gently kissed me. “My Layna,” he whispered.
My heart melted. “I love you.”
The soft smile that barely touched the corners of his mouth was his only response. A few months ago, the gesture and lack of words would have eaten at me. Tonight? I understood the intimacy. I knew I was seeing a smile that no one else in the world ever saw. I knew the twist of those lips and quiet reverence was a promise of what would come later when we were behind closed doors. I knew his silence meant he was comfortable enough to let his body language speak for him. I knew this because he’d taught me how to pay attention.
Blaze led us to the elevator and we silently waited. When we stepped into the small space, the atmosphere swelled with his presence and the butterflies came swarming back, swirling with a heady tension I’d become addicted to. The memory of his body earlier today over me, in me, it made desire coil hot and urgent in my blood.
Breathless, I cleared my throat. “Where are we going for dinner?”
His thumb slowly dragged across the back of my hand like he knew my every desire-laced thought but when his eyes traveled from my face to my dress. His features became hauntingly stern. “Not far,” the gentle cadence of his voice at odds with his expression.
“Is everything alright?”
The elevator doors slid open but instead of walking out, Blaze turned and cupped my face. His eyebrows drew tight. “I want tonight to be perfect for you. If it’s not what you want, you tell me. Understand?” His expression, his voice, they were so fierce, he looked angry.
The butterflies in my stomach became sharp angles and something close to panic seeped in. “What do you mean?”

“This is your choice, Layna. Remember that.”



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I grew up in Northern California with my head in a book and my feet in the sand. I dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew me into the world of storytelling. I love the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes me swoon.


I now live in Southern Florida and while I don’t get to read as much as I like, I still bury my toes in the sand. If I’m not writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in my backyard, you can find me spending time with my handsomely tattooed husband, my brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…

But Seriously?


Here are ten things you probably really want to know about me.


I grew up a faculty brat. I can swear like a sailor. I love men in uniform. I hate being told what to do. I can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks me out. My favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—I can’t decide. I have a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on me for driving directions, ever. And I have a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell my husband.







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Cover Reveal: Some Sort of Happy by Melanie Harlow

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Skylar Nixon is a twenty-seven year old failed actress with no Plan B. After a humiliating stint on a reality TV show crushes what’s left of her childhood dream, she finds herself back in her hometown with no money saved, no college degree, and no confidence she’s anything but a joke—a small town starlet who couldn’t hack it in the big city.
When she runs into former classmate Sebastian Pryce, she can’t believe the hot body and chiseled jaw belong to the shy, troubled loner she knew ten years before. He’s not exactly friendly at first, and she’s heard the rumors about his tragic past, but something in his sad eyes intrigues her. She only wants to get to know him better.
 Until the night she wants more—and takes it. (Hard and deep. Twice.)
Are they just two lonely people seeking solace? Or can a disgraced beauty queen and flawed, frustrated man find some sort of happy ever after? 

**SOME SORT OF HAPPY is a full-length, dual POV novel, complete with a happy ending.**
RELEASING: SEPTEMBER 22ND, 2015




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Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her lipstick red, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she's not reading good books, she gets her kicks from TV series like Game of Thrones, Boardwalk Empire, Masters of Sex, Deadwood, Mad Men, and Downtown Abbey (although she wishes it were more HBO and less PBS). Melanie is the author of the FRENCHED contemporary romance series (FRENCHED, YANKED, FORKED) and the sexy historical series SPEAK EASY (SPEAK EASY, SPEAK LOW), set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband and two daughters.







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Friday, August 28, 2015

Tour: Fallen Crest University by Tijan

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fallen crest university.jpgFallen Crest is back with a vengeance!

Samantha, Mason, and Logan are all together and united with one common enemy: Park Sebastian, the king of fraternity douchebags.

With professional football scouts eyeing his every move, Mason Kade has to walk the line for the first time in his life. Any move he makes against Sebastian has to be perfect and under the radar. One mistake, and his career is over.

Sebastian has other plans. Mason’s career isn’t his target—not even close. Wanting to destroy Mason completely, Sebastian knows he must hit him where it hurts the most: Samantha, who doesn’t give a rat’s ass that she’s the target.

Sam is bound and determined to protect Mason herself, no matter the cost, but what if the cost is beyond her imagination? What if this time, the villain wins?






She was confident. She moved with purpose.
It hit me how much she changed from when she’d moved in with Analise. She’d lost everything. She hadn’t cared about anything, and she had been a badass because of it—striking out, not giving a shit. Logan and I took her in, and then she had something to lose—me. She got scared. She was pushed around by the girls and bullied by her own mother, and through all that crap, she’d still fought. She’d clawed her way back up, protecting and loving Logan and me at the same time.
Good god. I wanted to pull her on top of me. I wanted to lose myself in her.
When I sat on the couch, Sam had a knowing grin, and she sat right where I wanted her, right where maybe she shouldn’t have. My hands held her hips as she straddled me. She looped her arms around my neck and rested her forehead to mine.
Her grin never dimmed, not even as she teased, “Why do I feel like we’re in high school, and I don’t want my mom to catch us making out in the basement?”
Shit, I love this woman.
A smooth and lazy low laugh flitted from her lips. I waited for her to find my mouth with hers, but she didn’t.
She held back and her eyes traced over my face. “What happened today?”
I wasn’t going to tell her. More time. I needed more time.

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tijan bio.jpegI didn't begin writing until after undergraduate college. There'd been storylines and characters in my head all my life, but it came to a boiling point one day and I HAD to get them out of me. So the computer was booted up and I FINALLY felt it click. Writing is what I needed to do. After that, I had to teach myself how to write. I can't blame my teachers for not teaching me all those years in school. It was my fault. I was one of the students that was wishing I was anywhere but at school! So after that day, it took me lots of work until I was able to put together something that resembled a novel. I'm hoping I got it right since someone must be reading this profile! And I hope you keep enjoying my future stories.










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