Title: Refresh
Author: S. Moose
Genre: New Adult/Romantic Suspense
Release Date: July 25, 2016
Blurb
What's left when perfection is gone? Perfection slipped through Caroline Spencer's fingers. One moment she had it all, and then it was gone. All she has left are her memories, her pain, and her close friends. And Mason Ryan was not part of her plan--wasn't even on her radar. After all, he was her husband's best friend. But now that her husband is gone, he's the only person who understands her, feels what she feels, and knows her inside and out. Together, they try to rearrange the shattered pieces of their pain. Sharing their grief pulls them closer together--closer than either of them want to admit and Mason won't allow himself to fall for his best friend's widow. Ultimately, he's holding the one secret that will destroy Caroline--a secret he cannot even bear himself. Will they find a way to refresh their lives when the pain of the past won't dissolve?
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Excerpt
"Let me add," she says with a smirk, "sex and Mason are like desserts."
"What?" I burst out laughing. "Now listen to me. Sex and Mason are like desserts. There are many sides of Mason and sex consists of different positions all of this like dessert. You see a dessert case and there's everything from fruit tarts to red velvet cake to brownies." "I'm getting hungry now, thanks." "Oh shut up," Tonya laughs and continues with her ridiculous explanation. "These two things go hand in hand. So you can take your time and look at these yummy desserts the way you look at Mason and sex and then when you're ready you'll pick the best most delicious dessert and boom, you and Mason will be having boom boom time." "I can't even with you." I laugh and wipe my tears from laughing so hard. "You're too much."
"Dessert equals Mason and sex. Remember, variety and different tastes!"
Author Bio
S.Moose is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, living in Webster, NY with her family, friends, and shorkie, Charlie. A 2011 St. John Fisher graduate, S.Moose loves to read and write. She enjoys getting lost in the fictional world and creating a place where readers can fall in love and swoon over the cute boys she brings to life. When she isn't in her room in front of her computer or a book, she is with her family and friends being silly and enjoying life. She's romantic at heart and loves anything with a happily ever after.
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Are you ready for more Marco?
The conclusion to the Duplicity Duet is NOW LIVE! ON SALE for $2.99 RELEASE WEEK! Amazon US: http://amzn.to/29rd22r Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/29rdiOP iBooks: http://apple.co/29xiG7y Nook: http://bit.ly/29GcRmG Kobo: http://bit.ly/29z5hLe
Blurb
One word. Two letters. But those two letters changed everything. It was impossible to predict the impact I would have on the life of the only woman I'd ever truly loved. No way to know that I would result in her ruin. I’d suffer for eternity with the knowledge that it was me who brought devastation to her doorstep. Though I deserved the anguish I felt, to see her suffer was unacceptable. I would fix this. Somehow I would prove to her that I wasn't the monster she thought I was. Even if it meant becoming a monster in order to make that happen.
EXCERPT
Then the door swung open and there he was. For a brief moment I was taken by his handsome features—his olive skin and pronounced jaw, the sparkle in his dark eyes, his perfect, straight nose. More than anything, it was the pull that remained between us that surprised me. Like I was a planet still circling his sun. There was a moment when we locked eyes that the gravity of all that had happened wasn’t weighing heavy between us, and it almost caused me to stumble back. Then, after the moment of intimacy had passed, I was sure I saw dread slip over his expression. I wasn’t going to stay put and find out though. I wouldn’t be standing on his doorstep begging for whatever scraps of information he deemed worthy of casting my way. No, I was here to demand what he, at the very least, owed me, and I wouldn’t leave until he gave it to me. “We need to talk.” I pushed past him, careful not to make contact, and bolted down the hallway toward the living room. “Emily, this isn’t a good time.” Marco’s footsteps followed quickly behind me. “I don’t care. Put aside whatever it is you’re doing. I want answers.” I came to an abrupt stop when I stepped into the living/dining area and found Alexa sprawled across the couch like she was a feast ready to be enjoyed. Her blouse was half unbuttoned, her legs draped over the cushions, causing her skirt to ride up a bit on her thighs, and her lips slightly swollen. Her lipstick had been rubbed off her mouth and onto her skin. She wore a saccharine smile that I wanted to rip off her face. I crossed my arms over my chest and turned back to Marco. “Oh, I see. Well, pardon me for interrupting.” There was no disguising the venom in my voice. His tortured gazed darted from me to her and back a few times before he schooled his features and responded. “Can we have this conversation some other time?” he asked, his voice neutral. “Marco, who’s this?” Alexa purred from behind me. I spun to address her with a fake smile on my face. “I’m Emily. We met at the art show a few months ago when I was there with Marco. Back when we were still fucking. You can call me Brandi, though.” I turned to lock gazes with him before finishing. “Everyone who knows me intimately does.” His fists clenched at his sides and his jaw tightened. Good. Some small part of me was pleased that I was still able to elicit a reaction like that from him. I swung my attention back to the blonde on the couch. “I’m sorry to swing by unannounced like this and interrupt what was obviously going to be a good time for you both. I just need a few minutes with Marco, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” Alexa’s eyes narrowed on me for a moment, and though she was playing nice with me—probably for Marco’s benefit—it was clear she wasn’t pleased with the interruption. “Perhaps I should go,” she said. “No!” Marco said, whip fast. “Emily should be the one to leave.” Not going to lie. That stung. A lot. No matter that everything between Marco and I had been based on lies, the fact that I was so easily tossed aside smarted. “I’m not going anywhere until we speak.” I leveled him with a gaze that told him I was serious. “Why don’t you use my bathroom to freshen up, Alexa? It’s that way through my bedroom.” He pointed toward the room that we’d spent many a night in. “I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” A victorious smile crept across her face, and her gaze swung to me as she rose from the couch. She brushed her fingers across Marco’s chest as she passed him. “Don’t be too long.” He nodded but didn’t spare her a glance as she passed, his gaze still fixed on me. As soon as the bedroom door closed, I spoke. “Sorry to interrupt your play time, Marco, but you owe me some answers and I’m ready to collect.”
Haven’t met Marco Valenti yet, Now is your chance!
Hook (Book One) Amazon US: http://amzn.to/24dsDKh Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/23SGrgl iBooks: http://apple.co/2a6UJ4C Nook: http://bit.ly/2a190PF Kobo: http://bit.ly/2acipqg
About the Author:
USA Today Bestselling author, Elisabeth Grace, has a soft spot for romance novels with happily ever afters and a hot spot for alpha males! She currently lives outside Toronto, Canada with her hubby and two small children. Life is busy, but never to busy for a good story and to share her love of reading and writing with others.
Website: http://elisabeth-grace.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElisabethGraceAuthor/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/1ElisabethGrace Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorelisabethgrace/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7276641.Elisabeth_Grace
Title: Rounding Third
Author: Michelle Lynn
Genre: New Adult
Release Date: August 8, 2016
Blurb
I was destined for stardom. From the age of seven, I was an all-star. Parent’s praised me, coaches worshipped me. As I got older, girls begged for me. I was Beltline’s baseball God, guaranteed to put this small town on the map. Then, after one night, that future vanished. The legend was laid to rest. I gave up my scholarship. I fled from Beltline. I left behind the girl. Now, I’m back.
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Excerpt
As a sea of women disperse, a tall figure stands, and my heart hammers against my chest wall, like I’m standing on a wire, high in the sky, between two skyscrapers.
“Cinderella,” he says, his voice shallow, but sure of himself. “Don’t call me that,” I respond, my feet frozen in place. “Who is that?” Jen asks from behind me. “That is Ella’s first love, Crosby Lynch.” “I thought Liam was her first boyfriend?” Jen questions, her voice slowly fading to background noise. Crosby breaks the small distance between us, and I swallow the large lump in my throat. My body screams for me to run or to pinch myself out of this dream, but his eyes still mesmerize me into submission. “No, she and Crosby are destined.” I hold my hand up in the air to stop Brax from rehashing history. Crosby is still breathtakingly gorgeous. His dark hair is shorter and messy, and those hazel eyes still hold a glint of the devil in them. The cocky smile plastered on his face as he shoves his hands in his pockets, almost has me jumping in his arms and thanking him for coming back for me. But one question overrides my body. “How long are you here?” I ask, bitterness lacing my voice. He tilts his head. “Until graduation.” He glances to Brax. “My guess anyway.” That cocky smile grows as the lump in my throat shrinks. Quickly, the room starts spinning, and my breathing becomes more labored. He’s the new baseball player I heard Coach Lipton talking about. “Oh my God.” My hand lies over my heart, and I close my eyes, trying to find my bearings, but the room continues to spin. “Get her to the damn couch, Boy Dreamy!” Jen hollers. Crosby grabs my elbow. His touch is so warm, so comforting, so safe. He guides me to the couch, but instead of setting me down, he places me on his lap. My eyes float around the room. Girls’ eyes are now glowering at me, Brax’s eyes are studying me, and Jen’s eyes show her pure ignorance to how serious tonight just became. As my eyes circle back to Crosby, I see he’s smiling again, his thumb brushing along my hip bone, as though we’d warped back to our senior year of high school. “You okay?” he asks, his voice snapping me out of the haze. I fall from my abrupt movement to flee from his lap, but spring up to my feet. “I’m fine. Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I ramble, fiddling with my hands while tapping my toes. “I mean, you’re here. In Ridgemont. Playing baseball and living in this house.” My vision shoots to Brax. “With Brax. Why would I not be okay?” I look over to Jen, who’s finding way too much amusement in my predicament. “Man, whoever you are, you’ve unglued Miss Perfect, and I love it.” She smiles wide at Crosby and then places her hand out in front of him. “I’m Jen, this crazy girl’s roommate.” Crosby takes her hand. “I’m Crosby, perfect girl’s soon-to-be boyfriend.” He shakes her hand, his eyes on me. “Ha. I love it. You are perfect for her.” She turns to me as I swallow down my anxiety, glaring at a still shirtless Brax. Maybe he could have been more specific at the door. Then again, who am I kidding. I’d give up my envied internship for a chance to see Crosby. “You need to dump the fucktard and take this man up on his offer.” She thumbs toward Crosby. I throw my hands up in the air. “You have a boyfriend?” Crosby’s voice is low and has lost the confidence it held moments ago. My fidgeting stops, and our eyes lock. Hurt floods out of his eyes and most likely mine as well. “I need a drink.” I spin around, knocking into a dancing couple. I straighten myself and determinedly head toward the kitchen. “A boyfriend?” His deep voice rings out above the music. I grab a cup and start filling it up with beer. The room quiets, and all eyes are on him. It’s like déjà vu. Eyes have always lingered on Crosby, his whole life, when he was the star baseball player in high school and even when he wasn’t. His charismatic personality mixed with his talent give him a presence in any room. The damn tap is only pouring foam, and in frustration, I smack it on the pile of ice, dumping the Solo cup on top of it. His strong hand picks up the cup, and he grabs the spout. The muscles in his forearm flex while he’s pumping the tap. Unable to gain the composure I need to look at him, I stare down at his hand pouring me the perfect beer. Our fingers brush in the exchange of the cup, and my whole body tingles, aware that my first love is back. Needing to brace myself, I lean against the wall, acting nonchalant by bringing the cup to my lips. Even if this isn’t my typical college night, I sure as hell need to act like I’m not facing the only guy to make my heart ricochet against my chest wall. “I’m sorry. I have no right to be angry,” he says, standing to my right with his back to the wall. “You left me,” I whisper, relieved that the noise level has picked back up. I’m not even sure I want him to hear my admission. His arm is no longer pressed to my shoulder, and I calculate he’s moving. Then, his shoes come into my view of the floor. “What are you talking about? We left each other. That was the point.” He rolls back on his heels. “You’re right. That was the point. Why are you here?” We made a pact, an agreement, that we would not contact one another. “Can we please go somewhere else to talk?” he whispers back. His hand reaches out, and I sway forward. My body heats up, the closer his hand grows to my cheek. He’s a millimeter away when he retracts, only igniting a burning in my flesh for his touch. “Yeah.” He nods his head in the direction of the living room but says nothing. When he heads toward the staircase, I stop walking. “Not upstairs.” He halts on the first step and peers around to find somewhere else. There are bodies everywhere, each corner already occupied with a couple or a cluster of girls. The house is not an option, and I wish the hope of being alone with him wasn’t so prevalent. “Walk?” he asks. I nod and down my beer, needing something to numb the pain in my body.
As we leave the baseball house, the situation is eerily similar to two years ago—when we intentionally hurt each other.
Michelle moved around the Midwest most of her life, transferring from school to school before settling down in the outskirts of Chicago ten years ago, where she now resides with her husband and two kids. She developed a love of reading at a young age, which helped lay the foundation for her passion to write. With the encouragement of her family, she finally sat down and wrote one of the many stories that have been floating around in her head. When she isn’t reading or writing, she can be found playing with her kids, talking to her mom on the phone, or hanging out with her family and friends. But after chasing around two kindergarteners all day, she always cherishes her relaxation time after putting the kids to bed.
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