(Baxter and Holt #2)
Publication date: August 31st 2018
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller
In Las Vegas, secrets are deadly.
Detectives Laura Baxter and Jack Holt are members of the elite: Las Vegas Metro PD, one of the toughest and most respected law enforcement agencies in the United States. In the middle of a city with two million residents and 43 million annual visitors, they’re hunting for a killer.
When a beautiful, young girl is killed in the high-roller Pleasure Pit of the exclusive Scala Casino, the news reverberates for hours among the ritzy clientele. Before taking the stage where she found her death, Crystal was last seen boarding an unmarked helicopter for a late-night flight to an unknown destination.
The stakes are high at the roulette table, and the players are hot-blooded. Among them, a stone-cold killer watches, waits, and kills without leaving a single trace of evidence. Rien ne va plus but death.
The name of the game is murder, and it doesn’t stop with Crystal’s demise. Anyone who threatens to expose the killer’s identity will soon find they’re being targeted.
In Las Vegas, secrets can kill.
Two mavericks make an intriguing team. Baxter and Holt trust each other with their lives, only not with their darkest secrets.
They’re called quasi-strippers.
They don’t really bare it all, like real strippers do behind the darkened glass doors of specialty adult clubs, but they aren’t exactly fully dressed either while they perform.
Crystal preferred the term exotic dancer. Five nights a week she took the small stage at the center of the high-limit blackjack tables, in the glamorous Scala Casino. Five nights a week she danced and smiled and undulated her perfect body to the rhythm of sultry songs, carefully chosen to lure the gamblers’ attention away from the cards and the ever-diminishing stacks of their chips. In the background, nothing is more Vegas than the Scala Casino floor, filled with a million noises, dazzling lights, and excess adrenaline. Nothing is more alive.
That’s where she belonged, among the glitter and the gold, the glitzy and the rich.
She wore strappy lingerie with black and gold lace accents on beige silk, designed to trick the mind’s eye into believing she was naked. Black, knee-high stiletto boots completed her attire, her black, garter-belt straps attached to them, sexy and kinky and fun. The appreciative looks she basked in that night told her she’d chosen her ensemble well. It was going to be a profitable evening.
The familiar music seemed a bit too loud, making her wince, a little dizzy. She grabbed the pole tighter, aware she was dancing out of rhythm, but knowing the customers were too far gone to notice. It was almost four in the morning, and by that time, most of them were pleasantly inebriated, high on their own excitement and maybe more, living the Vegas dream.
The only danger was that asshole, Farley, a fat, lewd pig who liked to scream at the girls, giving them a hard time for everything they did, right or wrong regardless. Two minutes of being late or changing clothes mid-shift and she’d get pulled inside the pit manager’s office for another scolding session.
But she held her head up during those moments, aware they were going to pass and even more aware they were meant to intimidate her into offering sexual favors in return for a privileged work atmosphere.
Oh, hell, no.
Not ever. Not even if the prick turned blue in the face from too much screaming, or his waiting-to-happen stroke knocked him dead right before her eyes.
But even Stan Farley was looking away that moment, focused on a newly arrived high roller who’d taken a seat at one of the blackjack tables with a view of the stage. She didn’t know that one, but judging by the way Farley fawned over him, he must’ve been someone important.
Someone who didn’t care that the odds at his blackjack table were stacked higher against him, just because the table came with a view of full inviting cleavage and tight little buns.
She felt beads of sweat bursting at the roots of her hair and forced some stale air into her lungs. Maybe the air conditioning was off, or something. The cigar smoke made it almost unbreathable, but it was an acceptable tradeoff for being allowed to work the high roller pit, not some fifty-cents-minimum roulette floor, where the tips were always Washingtons, never a Franklin and rarely a Lincoln, and not a whole lot of them to count at the end of a shift anyway.
No, she’d been lucky, and her luck had started to play in her favor about a month after she’d been hired. For that she probably had Devine to thank.
Her sweaty palms made it difficult for her to get a good grip on the shiny, chrome pole, but she managed a back hook spin and landed facing Devine. Her best friend danced some 30 feet away, on a small, elevated stage set among four, high-limit, roulette tables.
She waited until she could make eye contact with Devine and waved discreetly at her best friend. Just seeing her smile back made her feel less lonely, less vulnerable. Maybe she was going to be okay. Maybe things would work out after all.
Without realizing, she put her palm on her belly in a soft, caressing gesture, aimed to comfort the tiny sparkle of life growing inside her. She wasn’t showing a baby bump yet, but soon that would change, and with it, her entire life as she knew it.
She skipped out of rhythm again, but soon snapped out of her trance, motivated by Farley’s mean glare. She focused on her customers for a while and, within a few minutes of smiling provocatively and wiggling her rear, a crisp fifty-dollar bill landed under the thin strap of her thong, delivered by long, hairy fingers that reached lower and lingered longer than was necessary.
Sometimes she was happy the payout was 6:5 instead of 3:2 on a blackjack at the tables facing her; those jerks deserved to pay.
But she smiled at the man who’d delivered the tip and mocked a reverence without letting go of the pole. Then she let herself fall into a back bend and frowned when she saw Farley was approaching.
“What the hell is wrong with you, huh?” he snapped, after grabbing her arm and pulling her close. The music was loud, and no one could hear his words; not that anyone would care if they did. “Could you be bothered to do your job tonight? A deaf penguin has more rhythm than you.”
“I’m working it, Stan, what the hell? I haven’t taken a break in two hours.”
“The hell you are, bitch. You see those bozos? If they’re looking at their cards instead of your ass, you ain’t earning your keep.”
He let go of her arm and disappeared before she could say anything. He was a two-faced creep; with her and the other girls he showed his real charm. For all the patrons and the rest of the Scala staff, he was a perfect gentleman, always dressed in an impeccable suit and starched, white shirts, pleasantly smiling and accommodating.
She knew better than to let him get under her skin.
But her head was spinning, and she held on tight to the pole, not as part of her routine, but for much-needed balance. The music changed, and she welcomed the new beat, one of her favorites. She knew the playlist by heart; the casino had a limited supply of premixed tracks, but the customers didn’t seem to care.
Cheers erupted at the table in front of her, and one of the players lifted his arms in the air, beaming. The croupier pushed an impressive pile of chips in front of the man, and she quickly flashed her megawatt smile and made lingering eye contact. He didn’t disappoint; he picked one of the chips and sent it flying her way. She caught it gracefully, then placed it on the floor, next to the pole. Her barely-there panties weren’t made to hold casino chips.
When she looked up, she startled.
It was him. It was Paul, and he was furious, by the angle of his eyebrows, by the deep ridges flanking his mouth.
He stood right there, next to her stage, glaring at her with a loaded gaze filled with such hatred that her breath caught. He beckoned her to come closer without making a single gesture. She approached him hesitantly and crouched to bring their eyes on the same level, aware not even Farley would dare say a word. She shot a quick glance toward Devine’s stage, but she was gone, nowhere in sight.
His eyes drilled into hers, close enough she could see his dilated pupils. Without a word, he shoved a purple and white chip deep inside her bra, then grabbed the thin strap, pulling her closer to him. He said something, keeping his voice low and menacing. She couldn’t make out his words but didn’t dare to ask. She wanted to explain herself, wanted him to understand her motives, but she couldn’t find her words.
She didn’t want his money, and she didn’t deserve his anger.
When he finally let go of her strap and pushed her away, she almost fell. Her knees were shaking, and she felt the urge to sit for a moment, to catch her breath. She grabbed the pole tightly and did a clumsy back slide against the shiny surface, landing hard on her butt, then folded her legs to the side. She let her head hang low, and her long, wavy hair covered her face, hiding the fear in her eyes until it subsided a little.
Then she wrapped her hands around the pole again, planning to stand and do a pirouette, but her arms and legs felt numb, listless. She tried to breathe, but air refused to enter her lungs. Frantic, she looked around, searching for someone, anyone, who could help. Only one man was looking at her, but her desperate and silent plea was misunderstood.
The man licked his lips, arranged his crotch with a quick gesture, then looked away at another dancer.
She gasped for air a couple of times, then the bright lights of the casino seemed to dim, inviting darkness to engulf her view of the lively floor. Silence came, heavy, palpable. Against it, not even her own heart beats could be heard.
Defeated, she let go. Her body landed on the stage floor with a loud thump that no one heard. Unnoticed, a white and purple casino chip fell out of her top and rolled onto the floor, stopping under a table.
For a long moment, Farley thought the immobile pose was part of Crystal’s routine, some new dance move that she was trying. Customers really enjoyed seeing girls crawling on the stage; it made the viewers feel powerful, superior, in control. By the time Farley realized he’d been wrong, she was already gone. His chubby fingers felt for a pulse and found nothing.
Now he’d have to call the cops and close the pit. His worst nightmare.
Q&A with Leslie Wolfe
- What is Casino Girl about?
A team of Las Vegas detectives who trust each other with their lives, only not with their deepest, darkest secrets. Together, they investigate a young girl’s murder, not realizing they are more like each other than they think they are.
- What would readers remember after they finish reading the book?
There’s a hidden side to every one of us, a part that only we know about, that’s important to us, and that we wish to keep a secret. That hidden side of us is what makes us who we are, what makes us great at what we do.
- Your writing style is fast, filled with dialogue, almost at the expense of descriptives and narratives. Why is that?
This is how human beings interact, especially when under pressure or stress. We stop paying attention to our surroundings, and focus on the task at hand. People interact with one another, talk to one another, and have feelings for one another and for everything we do. That’s what I’m focused on, rather than specifying each article of clothing someone wears, or the color of the flower vase in an office somewhere. This technique isn’t necessarily good or bad; just somewhat different from mainstream.
- What’s the biggest compliment you received from a fan?
It’s when readers tell me they stay up all night to finish the book, because they couldn’t put it down. That’s music to my ears J Like any other artist and entertainer, I thrive knowing that I deliver that escape into the fictional world in a grasping, addictive, and memorable way.
- You mentioned science, technology, psychology. How do you keep it real?
I do extensive amounts of research for my work, and I’m fascinated by what I have the opportunity to learn. Additionally, sections of my books go through a process of validation at the hands of several fantastic partners who are law enforcement officers, attorneys, scientists, doctors in medicine. In Dawn Girl, for example, there are sections that speak about using certain plant extracts and animal venoms to achieve certain goals. Despite the extensive research, my hands were shaking a little as I wrote them, metaphorically speaking, and I was relieved when my research “passed scientific review.”
In Casino Girl I had the privilege to enjoy the assistance of three fantastic friends: New York’s best criminal attorney, an expert in casino gambling who spent his entire career in Las Vegas, and the most talented fashion director I’ve ever met. I’m grateful to all of them for lending me their edge.
- Do you do any book signings, interviews, speaking and personal appearances? If so, when and where is the next place where your readers can see you? Where can they keep up with your personal contacts online?
Apart from social media and email interactions, I’m a veritable recluse. Email is the best and quickest way to reach me, and I was fortunate to build true friendships with readers over email. The majority of my readers ask me when’s the next book coming out, not when I’m getting out of the house, so I get the hint and keep on writing.
- Is Casino Girl going to be continued?
This book is the second in the Las Vegas Crime Series, and yes, a third could happen very soon. So far, this series has been very well received by the readers, and my fans have been adamant: they want more. Therefore yes, there’s more, and there will be even more, coming soon. It all starts with Las Vegas Girl.
Leslie Wolfe is a bestselling author whose novels break the mold of traditional thrillers. She creates unforgettable, brilliant, strong women heroes who deliver fast-paced, satisfying suspense, backed up by extensive background research in technology and psychology.
Leslie released the first novel, Executive, in October 2011. It was very well received, including inquiries from Hollywood. Since then, Leslie published numerous novels and enjoyed growing success and recognition in the marketplace. Among Leslie’s most notable works, The Watson Girl (2017) was recognized for offering a unique insight into the mind of a serial killer and a rarely seen first person account of his actions, in a dramatic and intense procedural thriller.
A complete list of Leslie’s titles is available at http://wolfenovels.com/order.
Leslie enjoys engaging with readers every day and would love to hear from you.
• Become an insider: gain early access to previews of Leslie’s new novels.
• Email: LW@WolfeNovels.com
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(Alpha Bodyguard #1)
Publication date: September 10th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Not what the hell I thought I’d be doing with my life.
Especially not for a spoiled Hollywood actress on location in Miami Beach. But triple pay and carrying a gun had its advantages. I’d shove away paparazzi and screaming fans for a lot less. The Marines trained me to be Force Recon—intimidation and crowd control was child’s play compared to four tours. This assignment should’ve been easy money.
But the doe-eyed starlet with the perfect ass dragged me down her rabbit hole. Living for the spotlight, she leaked the perfect scandal. I warned her making headlines wasn’t in my job description, but she kept smiling for the cameras.
Now she was going to find out just how scandalous a bodyguard could be.
*SCANDALOUS is a sexy standalone book in the new Alpha Bodyguard Series!
The Alpha Bodyguard Series
SCANDALOUS – Tank’s story
MERCILESS – Collins’s story
RECKLESS – Tyler’s story
RUTHLESS – Sawyer’s story
“Do you like me?”
A bite halfway to my mouth, I froze for a fraction of a second. Then I chewed slowly and kept my eyes off her, because it was all part of the game. “You don’t strike me as the insecure type.” I took another bite, not knowing if I should be disappointed in her lack of confidence, or watching her for whatever game she was trying to play me with.
“This isn’t about insecurity,” she countered.
Bullshit. She was wondering why I’d said what I’d said. Horny as fuck, bored with talking, I dropped my fork and grasped her nape. Then I put my eyes on her.
She drank me up like she was starving.
Deliberately, I picked her fork up, stabbed some food and brought it to her lips. Lowering my voice, I tested her. “Open your mouth.”
For two heartbeats she stared at me.
Anticipation surged, wondering if she’d comply, but ultimately hoping she wouldn’t. I bent women. I made them cave to my commands, then I gave them the mind-blowing orgasms they wanted. But it was never a challenge. It hadn’t been for years. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been a challenge.
That alone should’ve been a warning. But add in the fact that I wanted this young-as-fuck, spoiled, hot mess of a woman to be my own personal fuck toy, and I should’ve been calling Luna to tell him to pull my ass off this assignment.
The only smart move was to disengage.
But I didn’t fucking do it.
I increased the pressure on the back of her neck, I touched the food to her lips, and I actually put fucking effort into my command. Stroking her neck, taking the threat out of my tone, I dropped my disinterested expression and let her see how goddamn much I wanted her. “Eat the food, Audrina.”
Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.
Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…
Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.
She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.
To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.
The Return Home
Publication date: September 6th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Major, Dylan Sarich, knows only one thing: Delta Force. He has dedicated his life to the Army and his country and can’t imagine doing anything else.
Until the unthinkable happens.
During a top-secret operation, Dylan is nearly sent home in a body bag with the rest of his team. With his wounds still fresh and on extended medical leave, Dylan returns to his hometown in Jupiter, Florida to heal his body. However no amount of physical therapy will destroy the demons lurking deep in Dylan’s soul.
Dr. Kinsley Maren is an expert in PTSD and brain trauma. When her neighbor comes to her, begging for help with her son, Kinsley can’t say no, especially when she meets Dylan. She’s certain she can break through the anger and help restore his confidence and mend his broken heart. Only she never expected he’d steal hers.
Dylan eased himself back in the luxurious sofa in the Vanderlins’ vast family room that had to be the size of his mother’s double-wide. He let out a long breath, wondering why he felt so bitter all of a sudden. He never went without as a kid. Sure, his parents didn’t buy him a brand-new car the day he turned sixteen, but they did teach him the value of a dollar, the importance of a good work ethic, and how to stand on his own two feet.
The Vanderlins’ had done the same, they just could also give their kids their own pool, a view of the Intracoastal and the ocean, along with fancy schools.
Well, fuck, Dylan had gone to West Point. That was quite the accomplishment, and Mia and her family weren’t a bunch of rich assholes who treated those with less like they were beneath them. They were good people who didn’t deserve Dylan’s foul mood.
“Let’s get all these munchkins in the tub,” Dylan’s mother said as she chased down Kayla, Ramey’s daughter who had the energy of the sun and tenacity of a lion protecting her cubs. The kid had no fear and a giant-size confidence in a pint-size body.
“Grandma. Get me!” Tyler, Nick’s oldest, exclaimed as he tried to catch up, but to no avail. While he also had boatloads of energy, he had a timid side to him and a soft heart, which was going to get him in trouble with the ladies.
“Do I have to take a bath with them?” Abigail said, clinging to Logan’s pant leg. “Can’t I have a shower? I’m a big girl now. Not a baby.”
Dylan bit back a smile. Nothing like listening to children try to reason with their parents.
“I’m no baby,” Kayla said, stopping dead in her tracks in the middle of the open family room, swiping her blond curls from her face.
“You’re my baby girl,” Ramey said from his spot on the floor.
Kayla rolled her eyes, pushing out a long breath.
“You’re so in trouble with that one. The female version of Ramey,” Dylan said with a laugh.
“But better looking like her mama,” Ramey said, reaching out and grabbing Kayla, tossing her to the floor and tickling her belly while she giggled.
“Daddy!” Abigail fisted her little hand and sent it crashing into his shin. “I want to take a shower.”
“You love Nana’s big tub. Now go with Grandma. Nana is setting up the big television in Mommy and Daddy’s room for you all to watch Nemo,” Logan said.
“Fine,” Abigail said, pointing her little, pudgy finger up at her father. “But only if I get popcorn.”
Dylan put his hand over his mouth, trying to wipe the smile off his face, but damn it felt good to feel lighthearted about something.
“Don’t talk sass to your father, young lady,” Mia said, coming in from the kitchen and scooping the little girl up in her arms. “I’ll help your mom.” Mia kissed Logan on the cheek. “Tequila and Leandra have the two babies upstairs. We’ll leave you boys to catch up.”
Nick waltzed in with a bottle of wine and four glasses. He held them up in the air. “I think this family has turned me into a wine snob.”
Logan took the glasses, setting them on the coffee table. “You know, that bottle doesn’t cost more than thirty dollars. My father-in-law has an entire cellar full of inexpensive wine and that’s his favorite.”
“I don’t think I ever even tried wine until you and Mia got back together.” Nick plopped himself on the sofa. “And now I think I prefer it over beer half the time.”
“It’s called being a mature grown-up,” Dylan said before he burst out laughing, then coughing as he clutched at his side. “Shit,” he muttered. “That fucking hurts.” He breathed slowly and not very deeply. The last x-ray showed his ribs were close to being healed, but not close enough.
“You okay?” Nick rested his arm on Dylan’s shoulder.
Ramey and Logan had both moved closer, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table.
“Do I look like I’m okay?”
“You’re a bigger baby than any one of those toddlers,” Ramey said in a teasing tone. “Every time you got hurt as a kid, you’d ball like a little girl.”
“That’s funny coming from you since when you thought you broke your arm, you screamed like a dying cow, and it was only a sprain.” Logan finished pouring the wine, making sure the glasses were filled and the bottle empty. “Here’s to one for all, and all for one.”
Dylan clinked his glass with each of his brothers. “I’ve got your back.”
His brothers repeated the mantra. A deafening silence filled the room. Dylan sipped his wine, his thoughts going back to his father. Images of his childhood flashed across his mind. Running and playing in the street with his brothers. His father and Logan teaching him how to swing a baseball bat. His father and Nick teaching him how to shoot a gun. And he and Ramey building a picnic table for their neighbors under the watchful eyes of their father.
But it always came back to their last fishing trip.
The last time his brothers had seen their father alive.
The next day, Dylan watched his father take his last breath.
Logan swirled his glass. “Dad hated wine.”
“But he drank it for Mom,” Nick said. “Every anniversary and every birthday, he’d bring her a bottle.”
“And daisies,” Dylan added.
“He’d harass the hell out of us for actually enjoying this bottle.” Ramey took a big swig. He enjoyed wine, but he drank it like he was doing shots. “I can hear him say, ya’ll are a bunch of wusses. Real men drink Crown.”
“God, I hate that stuff.” Logan shook his head. “I remember right before I went off to college, Dad gave me a shot. I thought I was going to puke right there.”
“I’ve got news for you,” their mother said, waltzing into the room with another bottle and a glass for herself. “He hated that shit too.”
“Such language, Mom. Really. My poor innocent ears.” Ramey held out his glass, while his mother went about filling everyone’s before snuggling on the sofa between Nick and Dylan.
“Ramey, you’re about as innocent as Logan is funny.” His mother patted Nick’s leg.
“Hey. Thanks a lot, Mom,” Nick said.
“If he hated it so much, why did he drink it?” Logan asked, rubbing his chin. “I just always remember there was a bottle in the house, and oh boy, when Grandpa came to visit, they’d stay up drinking that swill all night.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. His father loved that stuff, and it was just your dad trying to bond with him. Your dad pretty much only liked his beer.”
“You’re joking,” Dylan said, staring at his mother with his jaw gaping open. They spoke of their father often when they were all together, but their mother rarely gave up any stories other than the usual tales.
“Nope.” His mother shook her head. “So, when your grandpa died, your father decided he should at least continue with the tradition and tried to get Logan to drink that crap.”
“He gave me and Joanne a bottle of it on our wedding day,” Nick said. There had been a time when Nick couldn’t even utter his late wife’s name.
Dylan tapped his chest. His heart beating faster. He loved his family. Loved being with his brothers, but as always, shortly after he arrived, he began counting the moments until his next deployment.
Only this time, he didn’t know when that would be.
“He wanted to carry on what his father had started.”
“I read Tyler The Little Engine That Could every chance I get,” Nick said with a sigh. “Dad loved that story.”
“That he did. Almost as much as he did fishing.” His mother finished her drink and stood. “It’s nice to have all my boys in one place again.”
“It’s good to be home.” Dylan reached up and took his mother’s hand and kissed it. “I mean that.”
“I know you do. I also know the second you get the thumbs up, you’ll be in the back of a C-130 transport plane on to your next assignment.” She bent over and pressed her lips on his forehead. “But until then, I’m going to have my boys together as much as I can.”
Jen Talty is an award-winning author of Romantic Suspense. Dark Water hit #10 in Barnes and Noble and her books have been in the top 50 on Amazon. Jennifer grew up in Rochester, New York. She recently retired from being a full-time hockey mom as her children hung up their skates. She and her husband still live in Rochester while her children travel globe. Jen was the co-founder of Cool Gus Publishing with NY Times Bestselling Author Bob Mayer. For more information about Jen Talty please visit: jentalty.com.
Island Chaptal and the Ancient Aliens’ Treasure
Publication date: November 12th 2018
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance, Suspense
Island and March are back, this time to rescue Joy—Island’s BFF—who ended up in a Cancún jail after nearly killing her boyfriend’s side chica with a three-feet tall birthday cake. Ancient aliens somehow get involved in this mess, and also a guy name Angel Somoza, who hates sloths. There’s gunfights, frenetic capering from Mexico to Cairo, passionate sex, Roomba cats, and a lot of questionable science thrown in.
It’s the final chapter of the Spotless series, and just another Monday for March and Island.
Camilla Monk is a French native who grew up in a Franco-American family. After finishing her studies, she taught English and French in Tokyo before returning to France to work in advertising. Today, she builds rickety websites for financial companies and lives in Montreal, where she keeps a close watch on the squirrels and complains on a daily basis about the egregious number of Tim Hortons.
Her writing credits include the English resumes and cover letters of a great many French friends, and some essays as well. She’s also the critically acclaimed author of a few passive-aggressive notes pasted in her building’s elevator.
Magical Bullet Journal & Planner
Publication date: May 10th 2018
Embrace the energy all around you as you utilize the pages within to create a personal brand of magic all your own.
With correspondence pages including The Wheel of the Year, The Zodiac, The Moon Phases, and more, you can let your imagination fly as you fill in the blank pages to plan out your magical year.
A magical bullet journal and planner inspired by Author Tish Thawer’s Witches of BlackBrook series.
2017 – #1 Bestseller in Historical Fiction (Witches of BlackBrook)
2017 – Top 100 Bestselling in Paid Kindle Store (Witches of Blackbrook)
2015 – Best Cover – Penned Con (The Witches of BlackBrook)
2015 – Readers Choice Award – My New Favorite Book Awards (The Witches of BlackBrook)
Bestselling and Award Winning Author, Tish Thawer, writes paranormal romances for all ages. From her first paranormal cartoon, Isis, to the Twilight phenomenon, myth, magic, and superpowers have always held a special place in her heart.
Tish is known for her detailed world-building and magic-laced stories. Her work has been compared to Nora Roberts, Sam Cheever, and Charlaine Harris. She has received a RONE Award nomination (Reward of Novel Excellence), as well as nominations for Best Cover, Reader’s Choice, and Author of the Year (Fantasy, Dystopian, Mystery).
Tish has worked as a computer consultant, photographer, and graphic designer, and is a columnist for Gliterary Girl media and has bylines in RT Magazine and Literary Lunes Magazine. She resides in Arizona with her husband and three wonderful children and is represented by Gandolfo, Helin, and Fountain Literary Management.
You can find Tish on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorTishThawer
A common FAQ: “How do you pronounce her last name?”
Answer: Think “Bower” or “Thow-er”. It’s Persian!
Mister Big Stuff
Publication date: November 14th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
I’m a billionaire bad ass.
A military man who’s given up dreams for family.
A loner of sorts.
My father built an empire and left it and every bit of the shit that goes with it in my lap when he died. And I’m in desperate need of a personal assistant.
Someone who will speak straight, man up, take me on head-to-head. Force me to walk the line. Fuck me.
I just never expected it to be her. She’s a single mother. The girl from across the street when I was growing up. My little sister’s best friend. The one I lost my virginity to on a drunk night my senior year. But she’s perfect for the job and honestly, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She cripples me just by walking in the room.
I want her more than I want my next breath, but does she feel the same? And would it stop me if she didn’t? Fuck no. After a long year of loses, I’m ready for a win. And I’m gonna start with her.
Cause she’s always been mine and we both know it.
I’m a former firefighter/EMS guy who’s picked up the proverbial pen and started writing bad boy romance stories. I co-write with my sister, Ali Parker, as we travel the United States for the next two years.
You’re going to find Billionaires, Bad Boys, Mafia and loads of sexiness. Something for everyone, hopefully. I’d love to connect with you. Check out the links below and come find me.
Join Weston’s Insiders
Like Bad Boys with strong language and a naughty imagination they’re not afraid to act out anytime, anywhere, all the time? You’ve found your peeps. http://eepurl.com/cpGam5
A Little Harmless Faith
(The Wulf Siblings, #1)
Publication date: December 19th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance
What can a Dom do, when he realizes the one woman he could never live without in business is the woman he needs in his bed?
Jensen Wulf has everything a man could want. Money, power, and more women than he can count. Unfortunately, the one woman he needs is the one woman who is off limits. His personal assistant practically runs his entire family business and any entanglements with her would be a mistake. Still, his infatuation turns to obsession when he realizes she is secretly a submissive.
Nicola McCann knows dreams don’t always come true. She walked away from an olympic career and knows there is no future for her and Jensen beyond the job. It doesn’t stop her from fantasizing about him. He is the ultimate Dom and the sub in her wants him more than her next breath. When he discovers her secret, she gives into her needs with one rule: their D/s relationship ends when they leave Hawaii.
That agreement doesn’t keep either of them from falling in love, even though neither of them will admit it. When someone starts taking potshots at Wulf Industries and Nicola gets caught in the crossfire, both of them will learn that there are worse things than admitting love.
>>Warning: This book contains two hard-headed lovers, many nasty quips, uncovered secrets, Hawaiian scenery, a trip to Rough n Ready, spankings, and scenes so hot you might need an ice cold shower when you are done.
This book is part of the Wulf Siblings Trilogy but it is part of the Harmless Series. They are NOT serials.
Born to an Air Force family at an Army hospital, USA TODAY Bestselling author Melissa Schroeder has always been a little bit screwy. She was further warped by her years of watching Monty Python and her strange family. Her love of romance novels developed after accidentally picking up a Linda Howard book. From then on, she was hooked. She read close to 300 novels in one year and decided romance was her true calling instead of the literary short stories and suspense stories she had been writing. After many attempts, she realized that romantic comedy, or at least romance with a comedic edge, was where she was destined to be.
Influences in her writing come from Nora Roberts, Jenny Crusie, Susan Andersen, Amanda Quick, Jayne Anne Krentz, Julia Quinn, Christina Dodd, and Lori Foster. Since her first release in 2004, Melissa has written close to thirty short stories, novellas and novels released with seven different publishers in a variety of genres and time periods. Those releases included a 2005 Eppie Finalist, Two Capa finalists, and an International ebook best seller in June of 2005. Surrender was named top Category Romance by Authors After Dark, and she was named Author of the Year and Most Accessible Author.
Since she was a military brat, she vowed never to marry military. Alas, fate always has her way with mortals. Her husband is an Air Force major, and together they have their own military brats, two girls, and an adopted dog-daughter. They live wherever the military sticks them, which, she is sure, will always involve heat and bugs only seen on the Animal Discovery Channel. In her spare time, she reads, complains about bugs, travels, cooks, reads some more, watches her DVD collections of Arrested Development and Seinfeld, and tries to convince her family that she truly is a delicate genius. She has yet to achieve her last goal.
She has always believed that romance and humor go hand in hand. Love can conquer all and as Mark Twain said, “Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand.” Combining the two, she hopes she gives her readers a thrilling love story, filled with chuckles along the way, and a happily ever after.
To keep up with all of Mel’s happenings, make sure to subscribe to her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/N2iob
The Right Kind of Reckless
Heather Van Fleet
(Reckless Hearts #2)
Published by: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Publication date: November 7th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
“You’ll fall in love with these rugged Marines and their Reckless Hearts!” —Kelly Gendron, USA Today bestselling author of the Breaking the Declan Brothers series
I’m in love with a woman I can’t have, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop myself from falling.
The problem? Her brother’s my best friend.
I shouldn’t want her this much. Not when it goes against the bro code. Not when I’ve never been able to commit to a woman for longer than a night.
But one look into her eyes and I’m a mess for her. She’s my everything. And I have to walk away with nothing.
Addie and I watched the guys play round after round of Skee-B all, while Chloe jumped and cheered and stole the occasional ball from each of their rows. No matter what my state in life was, I was happy the three of them had found one another.
“Here, let’s get our picture drawn.” Knocking me out of my woolgathering, Addie guided me toward one of the caricature sketchers who sat just outside the carnival gates. The man had a unibrow the size of Lake Michigan’s shoreline, and his mustache was curled at the end, handlebar style. But his work was amazing. Charcoal sketches with colored eyes, balloon- shaped heads with movie-s tar hair.
“How much for both of us?” Addie asked, fishing through her purse. We sat on the stools, as directed, our shoulders touching.
“Thirty- five,” the guy said, his fake French accent too thick to be believable.
I groaned and looked at my friend. “Seriously? That’s too much.”
“Seriously. We have to do this.” Addie mocked me. “Look at how cute those are.” She pointed to a couple with a heart surrounding their heads. Little doves swooped in the air around them, carrying heart balloons in their beaks. Had to hand it to the guy. He was talented.
“I’ve got this, ladies.” I looked up at the sound of Max’s deep voice, finding him searching through his wallet. He pulled out the money, handed it to the artist, then lifted his gaze to meet mine. A soft smile covered his bow-shaped lips, and everything inside me stirred to life at the view.
Addie faked a cough, then pressed a hand over her stomach. “Oh…oh no. I don’t feel very good, guys.”
I faced her and narrowed my eyes as she stood. Don’t, I mouthed, already knowing her game.
Ignoring me, she looked at Max and said, “You’ll take my place, won’t you, Max?” She batted those brown eyes and twirled a lock of her dark hair. No doubt her way of getting anyone and everyone to say yes to her. “Lia here was dying to get her picture drawn.”
Oh, the little liar…
Max nodded, immediately taking her empty seat to my right. With an extra hop in her step, Addie walked away, her ponytail swinging back and forth more the closer she got to Collin and Gavin and Chloe. I wanted to pull it out of her head.
“All right, look this way.” I blinked at the sound of the artist’s voice, my body far too aware of Max’s heady scent.
God, why did he have to smell so good? Fit so perfectly against me?
“You’re much too stiff.” The artist tsked from behind his easel. “Here, wrap your arm around zee pretty lady’s waist, like so.”
I sucked in a breath as Max’s hand was guided along my back, ending at my side with his fingers tucked just under the edge of my T- shirt. I swallowed, shifting in my seat and instantly remembering our kiss— the way he’d moved his mouth over mine.
Warmth pooled low in my stomach, drifting in between my thighs. His touch was like adrenaline, kick- starting my orgasm-starved body to life.
“Chin on her shoulder, lips close to her ear…” I shuddered as Max followed the artist’s directions to a T, the stubble on his chin igniting a stormy thunder inside me. Max seemed unaffected, his chest rising and falling at an even rate, while mine was suddenly in asthmatic mode.
“Relax,” Max whispered in my ear, his warm breath grazing my neck. “I’m not gonna bite ya.”
I shut my eyes and shifted once again, the ache between my thighs becoming unbearable. “I didn’t want to do this,” I finally murmured, refocusing on the artist.
Max laughed softly, his chest vibrating against my back and shoulder. “I know you didn’t.”
My eyebrows pushed together in annoyance. “Then why did you agree to sit here?”
“Because Addie wouldn’t give up until I did.” He sighed, far too relaxed compared to me.
I was jumping, itching, crawling with…something, yet he was unaffected. Which only further emphasized that he didn’t want me the way I did him.
“Plus, she folds my underwear, remember? Gotta make sure she doesn’t stick ants in them or something.”
“Yeah, like Addie would ever stoop to your level.” I couldn’t help but grin, my nerves easing slightly.
He squeezed my ribs. “You would.”
I turned to face him, our noses inches apart. “Damn right I would.”
A slow nod later, he moved even closer, our bodies in sync…
My smile fell away. “Maxwell,” I whispered, so lost in his dark eyes that I couldn’t concentrate. The apology was there on my tongue like earlier, but the need weighing me down was even heavier. How could I ever be just friends with a guy who was likely to break my heart, no matter what we were to each other?
“Tell me why you kissed me that night.” He looked at my lips, a serious glint in his eyes.
Blood rushed to my face at his out-o f- the- blue question. My composure slipped as confusion took its place. Why was he asking me this?
“Because I…” I gulped. “I owed you, remember? For bailing me out and for keeping me safe from those guys.”
Something shifted in his eyes. Disappointment? I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. When I looked back at him, I knew I was imagining things, because flirty, fun Max was back, winking at me. “Well then.” He cleared his throat. “That’s good to know.”
“What’s good to know?” I frowned.
“That you still owe me.”
Heather Van Fleet is stay-at-home-mom turned book boyfriend connoisseur. She’s a wife to her high school sweetheart, a mom to three little girls, and in her spare time you can find her with her head buried in her Kindle, guzzling down copious amounts of coffee.
Heather graduated from Black Hawk College in 2003 with an associate degree and has been working in the publishing industry for over five years. She’s represented by Stacey Donaghy of Donaghy Literary.
Me After You
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Widowed at twenty-five, Sawyer Hartwell has no choice but to return to her hometown. Broke and alone, the intention was to heal and find herself again, but how can she heal in a place filled with so much sorrow and memories she yearns to forget?
Dean Preston has regretted leaving Willowhaven since the day he rode off on his motorcycle six years ago, destroying the only love he had ever known. Returning too late, he’s found small comfort in a new life with Lily, but with Sawyer back he’s not sure of anything anymore.
The time has come for Sawyer and Dean to face the past, to learn from their mistakes. The road to healing is paved with old wounds, each one threatening to tear them down completely. Carrying their own scars close to their hearts, they must both confront what’s gone before or lose their second chance.
Me Without You
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Since her father’s abandonment eight years ago, Alix Fink has done everything in her power to keep her family’s affairs private. She’s as closed off as they come, but Aiden Ballard wants to remedy that. Though it’s been a losing battle, Aiden has been desperate to win Alix’s heart for years.
Everyone knows Aiden Ballard’s parent’s lives were lost in a fatal car accident when he was sixteen, but only Aiden knows what really happened that fateful night; something he’s been desperate to hide from everyone for the last nine years—especially from Alix.
In the small town of Willowhaven, secrets have a way of revealing themselves. Alix and Aiden couldn’t be farther from perfect, but they couldn’t be more perfect for each other. When their secrets rise to the surface, they must overcome them or face a lifetime of loneliness.
Me To You
Releasing: Mid-Jan 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Once fearless and adventurous, Savannah Ballard hasn’t been the same since her accident in high school. While she appears composed on the outside, inside she’s screaming. She wants her life back and returning to the origin of her pain is the only way she knows how.
When successful New York lawyer Jude Rochester’s grandfather passes away he becomes the new owner of Rochester Grocers in Willowhaven. He has no intention of taking over the business, but he makes a trip to the small town to tie up loose ends.
After meeting on the street, Savannah becomes Jude’s tour guide for the week. As if life wasn’t messy enough, an unexpected romance may not be the best way to simplify it. They lead complicated lives they aren’t ready to share. When the secrets between them are so significant, distance might not be the only thing to threaten their future.
Mindy is the youngest of six children and grew up in San Diego, California. After graduating from Brigham Young University-Idaho, she discovered her passion for reading and writing. Mindy and her husband have been married for ten years and live in Summerville, South Carolina.
She is the author of the YA fantasy series, The Faylinn Novels; the adult contemporary romance series, The Willowhaven Series; as well as the coming of age standalone, The Day That Saved Us. Mindy is also the author of The Paper Planes Series, which was co-written with Michele G. Miller.