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Title: Honor
Series: SEAL'ed #1
Author: Andi Jaxon & AJ Alexander
Genre: Contemporary/Military Romance
Release Date: June 27, 2018
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Logan has been running from a death bed promise for years, but he’s finally decided to face his fears and claim his forever. Now all he has to do is convince her to take another chance on love.
Katie buried her husband and made peace with never finding a love that strong again. But when a smooth talking cowboy asks her to dance, fireworks explode, leaving them both desperate for more.
However, their happiness is darkened by a secret – the secret of who he really is.
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RELEASING AUGUST 8, 2018
![]() ![]() Want to know more about Andi Jaxon? Follow her on social media or subscribe to her mailing list to receive the latest information on new releases, sales, and more! ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Hardwired
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Title: Chronicles of a Hot Mess
Author: S.E. Rose
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: June 26, 2018
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She’s a hot mess, and he’s intrigued from the first time he sees her. He’s a sexy former athlete who could have any woman, and she hopes he doesn’t break her heart.
Amery Walsh’s baseball career ended after an injury. He’s been a talent scout for his team and resident playboy since then. But three chance encounters with Lyla Perkins change everything. This tiny, feisty woman flips his world upside-down. Is he ready for a serious relationship?
Lyla Perkins just started her career and so far, it’s an epic disaster. She’s buckling down to prove herself at her job when Amery repeatedly pops into her life, forcing her to consider a more serious relationship. But can a playboy be trusted with her heart?
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Amery
Hot Mess. That was the first thing that came to his mind. Like one of those psychological tests where you are supposed to say the initial thing that pops into your head when the doctor shows you a picture. The woman walking toward his gate tried to brush her long mahogany hair out of her face but lost her footing and tripped. She managed to catch herself only to lose her shoe in the process. She huffed and stopped, causing a chain reaction behind her as passengers tried to stop mid-step to avoid colliding with her. She was oblivious to the carnage she was creating. Instead, she walked off to the side and sat down on an empty chair trying to get her shoe back on. Her unruly hair kept falling in her face. She pulled a hair tie from her sweatshirt’s pocket and went to put it on and the thing snapped in her hand. She cursed under her breath and he had to stifle a laugh. She looked like a clumsy dark-haired version of Tinkerbell, small and feisty.
It was like a train wreck. He couldn't take his eyes away from her. She wasn't dressed in business attire but instead wore black leggings that looked like what he’d seen women wear to the gym. She had on an oversized hoodie that was at least two sizes too big.
“Welcome to flight seven-fifty-two nonstop to Baltimore. We’ll begin boarding in just a few minutes.”
The droning on of the airline attendant broke his gaze and when he looked back over she was gone. He loved people watching, always had. He had found since taking this job that the airport was excellent for this activity. He typically used the owner’s private jet as he was a close friend, but Derek had taken it on a business trip, so he was relegated to first-class flying instead. At the airport, most people just kept their heads down, playing with their electronic devices, but he never did. Maybe it was his cop grandfather or maybe he was just too curious, but either way, he always paid attention.
Sometimes people would spot him, and he’d be forced to take a selfie or sign an autograph. He’d played professional baseball for five years until an injury yanked him away from the one thing he loved. The owner of the team took pity on him and made him a scout for the organization. Derek Hathaway was one of the most involved owners in the league. He enjoyed being in the weeds, much to his general manager’s dismay. Amery did have the degree and demeanor for it, but he knew Derek had done it out of sympathy.
He picked up his bag and rolled his carry-on toward the gate. He knew he’d be boarding first. He waited for the cue from the attendant that first-class passengers were welcome to board, and he made his way toward her to scan his phone and board. He walked briskly down the corridor to the plane and greeted the flight attendant as he placed his carry-on in the overhead compartment. He was about to turn to sit when he was suddenly pushed from behind as someone went flying into him. He turned just in time to catch the person and as his eyes scanned down; he suddenly found himself face-to-face with the hot mess woman. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed as she got her footing.
“That's quite alright,” he said, as he stepped back into his row still holding her arm. She was quite beautiful up close. Her eyes were almost violet in color and her skin was tan and flawless. She wore no makeup but had naturally beautiful lips and eyes. Her high cheekbones were blushed with a soft pink. She smelled of roses. He couldn’t help inhaling as he lingered slightly too close for slightly too long before letting her go.
She looked nervously from him to the seat numbers along the overhead compartments.
“Uh, I think that's my seat,” she muttered, pointing to the window seat next to him. He wanted to laugh out loud but bit his tongue as he moved aside to let her take the seat.
He stored his bag and then checked his emails one last time, trying to ignore the flutter of activity next to him. After a minute, he could no longer keep his gaze away. He turned to see her trying to pull something from her bag while pushing it under the seat in front of her. She gave one final tug and a travel pillow came flying out as she went flying into her seat. She was a disaster, a very cute, good-smelling disaster.
It took her a moment to realize she was being watched. She turned toward him.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as she placed the u-shaped pillow around her neck and laid a book on her lap. “I’m a bit of a mess today,” she continued with a shrug.
“That’s alright. We all have those days,” he offered in an attempt to put her at ease. It was a bit of a stretch, but certainly, some people might have days like hers. He extended his hand to her.
“Amery Walsh,” he said.
She gave him a shy smile. “Lyla Perkins,” she said as she shook his hand.
Her hand was soft and warm in his and just like the rest of her, it was petite.
“Nice to meet you, Lyla,” he said. He wanted to say more but the flight attendant came by asking if they wanted drinks. Lyla asked for a red wine and he asked for a whiskey.
When he glanced over at her again, Lyla was reading her book, a mystery novel, if he could guess. He pulled out his tablet and began to work on his notes. He’d met with three potential players. They’d all end up on a minor league team, but two had real potential, one might even get to go straight onto a major league team if the kid worked a little harder.
The flight attendant brought them their drinks and he passed the red wine to Lyla, their fingers touching briefly as she grasped it in her hand. She didn’t make eye contact but kept on reading. She drank her wine quickly. The attendant was back collecting trash before take-off when he noticed Lyla had passed out and her book was leaning against her precariously. He placed the bookmark back in it and set it on her lap before closing her seatback tray. He closed his own and kept typing, setting his iPad on his thighs.
The drink began to take affect the second they were in the air. Finally, tired enough, he was able to fall asleep for a few hours. He woke as the sun was just beginning to come up. Lyla was still fast asleep. She looked utterly adorable, curled into a tight ball. Her head leaned against his shoulder. Her book had fallen during the night and was sprawled out on the floor next to her sneakers, which she must have kicked off at some point. She looked more like a little kid than a grown woman with the giant hoodie that practically swallowed her up so much so that he was unsure what her body looked like beneath it.
Lyla
She woke with a start. She’d caught the red-eye from LA to Baltimore and from the looks of it, the sun wasn’t up yet. She stared at the sky that was just beginning to show the faintest hint of dawn on the horizon. She glanced down and saw her book in her lap, the bookmark lodged in between the pages. She must have dozed off after take-off and clearly before the in-flight food service. She was hungry, but food would have to wait a bit longer.
“Hungry?” a voice to her right asked.
She turned to Amery. He motioned to his tray which held a plate of some type of breakfast with fruit and a croissant. It looked delicious. Before she could answer, Amery, pulled down her tray table and set the plate down.
“I figured you might be hungry, so I had the stewardess bring me an extra plate for you,” he explained.
“I guess I slept right through breakfast,” she said as she pulled back the seal on the small cup of orange juice and took a sip. It didn’t taste half-bad.
Her day had been a bad one. OK, it was probably going in the record books. She had always, always been prone to disasters. It was like a disease that followed her around constantly. She had been sent to LA the week before as part of her first assignment with her first real job. She’d spent endless hours prepping for the photo shoot. She was to assist the head photographer in photographing several celebrities for the next issue of Look and See Magazine. She really wanted to work in PR, but this job would pay the bills until she could figure out a way to segue to work in PR or make her PR and marketing blog a career. The magazine worked out of several offices and somehow, she got stuck in the smallest in Washington D.C. Apparently, a lot of celebrities lived around D.C., and obviously, there were the frequent White House galas and state dinners and whatnot that they wanted to photograph. Matthew, the head photographer, was a nice enough guy, albeit a bit bossy and self-absorbed, but she could manage.
Yesterday had been the last day of shooting and she had royally fucked up everything. She forgot to tell the caterer to arrive early as Matthew requested. So, he had no breakfast before the shoot and wasn’t pleased. Albeit, he had completely changed the times for the shoot two hours after they had wrapped the day before, and so she was scrambling trying to rearrange schedules for their last day. She then tripped over a cord on the way to call said caterer and took down one of the cameras that had been set up earlier. It broke. Matthew went ballistic and sent her to fetch another one. Every store was sold out of this camera, and she ended up calling in a favor to get one for the shoot. Ugh, the favor…she didn’t even want to think of going on a date with that creepy guy from college that she was sure roofied the drinks of half a dozen of her sorority sisters at various parties over four years. Then, just when she thought the day couldn’t get any worse, Matthew sent her to pick up several ball gowns. The cab driver she used got lost, and she ended up being late to the store. The manager had already gone out to an early lunch. The sales lady had no idea where the gowns were and then brought out several she thought were right. They weren’t.
Matthew had canceled the shoot and stormed out of the building muttering to himself about inept assistants. She’d caught the first flight home; fairly certain she would be canned when she arrived back in D.C. She sighed as she ate a piece of fruit. She needed a job and she needed it fast.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Amery asked.
Shit, had she sighed out loud? She glanced over at him. His blue eyes intently bored into hers.
“Long day, that’s all,” she said in between bites.
He glanced at his watch. “Well, we have another ninety minutes, so spill it.”
She was a little taken aback by his forwardness. “Uh, well,” she started. Where to start? “I had a pretty shitty day at work yesterday, and I’m ninety percent, strike that, ninety-nine percent sure I’m going to be fired when I get home.”
“What do you do?” he asked.
“I work for a fashion magazine. I was in LA for a shoot and well, it didn’t go very well.”
“You’re a model?” he asked.
She nearly choked on her croissant, and he patted her back.
“Uh, no, definitely no,” she said, taking a sip of orange juice. “I’m an assistant to our head photographer.”
“Oh,” Amery said. “Do you like doing that?”
She shrugged. “I guess so.”
Amery laughed. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”
She sighed and turned to him, knocking over her remaining orange juice in the process. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed as she started to mop up the mess on her tray table. Suddenly, Amery was handing her napkins. She looked over at him quizzically. He pointed to a stash of napkins in his seatback pocket.
“I figured it was better to be prepared,” he explained. She rolled her eyes. She must have seemed a total fucking mess to him.
“I’m not always so prone to accidents,” she said tersely, although deep down she knew that was a blatant lie.
Amery threw his hands up in a defeated gesture. “I didn’t mean to insult you,” he said.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m a little sensitive today.”
Amery put his finger up and the stewardess came over to him. “Two mimosas, please,” he said.
“Sure, Mr. Walsh,” she said politely and walked back to the galley.
She was back before he could speak again, as though mimosas were sitting around on standby for the passengers.
“Here, peace offering,” he said as he handed her a plastic champagne flute. “To your day vastly improving,” he added as he clinked glasses with her.
“Accepted,” she said as she took a sip of the mediocre drink.
He studied her for a few moments, and she stared back at him. His gaze was so intense, she had a hard time looking away from him until the captain spoke over the cabin intercom.
“We’ll be beginning our descent into Baltimore in about thirty minutes, folks. It’s currently seventy degrees at BWI and partly cloudy. The cabin crew will be coming around shortly to collect any trash you may have. We hope you’ve enjoyed your flight and we look forward to seeing you again soon. Have a great day, everyone,” she said.
Lyla downed the mimosa and handed her empty champagne flute back to the flight attendant.
“Well, that’s one way to start off the day right,” Amery laughed as he finished his.
“Cheers to that,” Lyla said as she stuffed her pillow back into her carry-on bag.
Lyla picked up her book and started to read again. Amery closed his notes on his tablet. She could feel the plane descending and knew they’d be landing shortly. She internally groaned at the thought of having to go to work in a few hours. She sighed again. She supposed she should just go in straight away and get it over with.
She placed her book in the pocket in front of her and looked out the window as the plane began to land. She could make out the Chesapeake Bay and Bay Bridge in the distance. A few minutes later the plane bumped as the tires hit the ground.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Lyla,” Amery said as he turned on his phone and reached for his carry-on bag.
“Likewise,” Lyla replied, trying to remember his name, something with an “A.” Yeah, she was a mess.
Review:
Cute, sweet, and funny, Chronicles of a Hot Mess will have you sighing and giggling the whole time. How can a clumsy, quirky woman reform a notorious playboy? By constantly embarrassing herself in front of him! This book will keep you laughing and cringing. The romance between Amery and Lyla was incredibly sweet. Lyla’s clumsiness was endearing rather than annoying, and Amery was just swoon-worthy. Definitely a great summer read! 5 Stars! ![]()
S.E. Rose lives in the DMV. And if you know what that means, then you know where she lives. She currently resides with her husband, two children, and always at least two cats and usually other random creatures her children decide they need. While she works at a desk during the day, her evenings and weekends are devoted to writing and editing her romance novels. She loves all things wine, coffee, tea and dark chocolate; that’s right, dark chocolate. In her spare time, she enjoys photography, traveling, going to concerts, and reading.
Synopis: Fans of Sarah Dessen, Stephanie Perkins, and Jenny Han will delight as the fireworks spark and the secrets fly in this delicious summer romance from a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. When Jade decided to spend the summer with her aunt in California, she thought she knew what she was getting into. But nothing could have prepared her for Quentin. Jade hasn't been in suburbia long and even she knows her annoying (and annoyingly cute) next-door neighbor spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E. And when Quentin learns Jade plans to spend her first American summer hiding out reading books, he refuses to be ignored. Sneaking out, staying up, and even a midnight swim, Quentin is determined to give Jade days--and nights--worth remembering. But despite their storybook-perfect romance, every time Jade moves closer, Quentin pulls away. And when rumors of a jilted ex-girlfriend come to light, Jade knows Quentin is hiding a secret--and she's determined to find out what it is. Review: I adored this book! It was such a sweet and interesting story. I liked the parallels. I can’t talk about them because it will give away the storyline, but I will say that it was perfect and well thought-out. I felt bad for what Jade went through on her side of the parallel; it was horrible. Quentin was on the opposite spectrum. He was amazing and as he should be. An amazing character! I loved Jade’s mom! She was so cool and so loving. She wasn’t your typical mom; she was literally a rock star. And though Jade had always lived life on the road, she was more mature than most teenagers and wanted to settle down rather than travel. That doesn’t mean she didn’t make mistakes, because she did. Her aunt was a bit overbearing. That irked me a lot. At the same time, she had never raised a teenager and had her own assumptions on how Jade had been raised. She was mostly wrong. And you know what they say about assuming. Yeah, that’s how I felt about her. Not my favorite character, but she wasn’t bad either. I hope Nicole Williams comes back to this story. It reminds me a bit of Lucy and Jude in Crash. And I don’t think anyone could get enough of them. I know I now want to reread their story. Just as I will probably reread Jade and Quentin’s. 5-Stars! About the Author:
Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time. Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency. ![]() Go Home, Afton
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Smashwords -- EXCERPT: Parents—stay-at-home moms, mostly—brought in their toddlers once a week so I could read them a story. And I use the word toddlers loosely. Kids as old as six or seven sometimes attended during the summer. And the stories we would read were made up of fewer than fifty words, for the most part. A lot of the mothers in Wakefield were too lazy to read to their own children, I guess. Oh, and crafts, too. After reading a story together, we’d break out glitter and colored pencils and paste and other nonsense, but that wasn’t the real reason a dozen women turned out with their little monsters each week. Storytime was an excuse for the mothers to gather and gossip. It always took a little while to get the children to settle down, sure. I’d press my finger to my lips and wait. Five or ten seconds at most, although I would have been happy to wait longer. Their mothers, on the other hand, were so much worse. Getting them to shut their fucking traps was a whole separate exercise in endurance. But as much as I disliked children, there was something magical about them. It was their inability to see gray, I think. Their entire worlds existed in black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. You could see it in their faces as a story unfolded, rife with nervous energy at every inconsequential turn. “And she just doesn’t know”—I read to the room, pointing to each gigantic word—“should she stay, should she go?” I caught a boy’s expression, who sat just inches from me. The hippopotamus in our story was faced with a dilemma, and this boy was transfixed. His eyes were wide, his hands were cupped over his mouth, and he was vibrating with anticipation to see what the hippo would do next. I flipped to the last page. “But yes the hippopotamus.” The boy relaxed a little, making a deliberate show of letting his shoulders drop. A talented drama queen in the making. He was new to storytime and looked to be about five or six years old. He had dark hair, a tan complexion, and a missing front tooth. He’d attended just once before and he’d sat close that day, as well. I’d never really been big on learning children’s names, to be honest, but I knew his was Neil only because he’d come to the library alone both times. It sounds strange, I’m sure, but having a parent use the library as a free babysitting service happens more often than most people would guess. I continued on, reading the final words of the story. “But not the armadillo.” Neil was stressed all over again, and his tiny hand shot up. “Miss Afton?” “Yes, ah, Neil? What is it, little man?” “How come not the arma-darma?” “Armadillo.” A woman in baggy gray sweatpants corrected him from the back of the room. She was a few years older than me, had bleach-blonde hair in a ponytail, and her voice resembled a seagull getting crushed by a car. I shut the book and set it on my lap. “That’s a good question, Neil.” I bit my lower lip, deciding how much to share. “Well, let’s see. Ah, no one likes armadillos, for starters. They’re bullet-proof, if you can believe it, and ugly as sin. They carry leprosy, too, but they don’t bite children too often.” The woman at the back of the room—Sweatpants, let’s call her—looked horrified. Her stained teeth chattered and she blinked in rapid succession. She placed her palms over her daughter’s ears, a girl around three or four in age. Neil scratched his head. “What’s a lepra-she?” “It’s—” Sweatpants raised her hand to silence me—not that I minded—and looked to a few of the other mothers in the room for support, most of whom were checked out or occupied with their phones. She looked back at me again, then at her daughter. “It’s when good little boys and girls get ice cream.” That wasn’t how I might have defined the word, however. “You want to stop for ice cream on the way home, Jessi?” It was hard enough getting these little turds to sit still for all fourteen pages of But Not the Hippopotamus. Why on earth would this woman want to stuff her daughter’s face with sugar before lunch? But the girl jumped up and squealed at the mention of sweets, and soon, other kids joined in, as did their mothers. I peeked down at Neil to see him cradling his head in his hands, masking a look of disappointment by staring at the floor. It appeared he had forgotten all about armadillos and leprosy and storytime, and now sulked, wishing he had a parent present to take him for ice cream like the other children. The mothers talked amongst themselves, and their toddlers fed on the elevated energy levels. The room was alive with discourse, and I wondered if the local Dairy Queen might consider paying me a small commission. “Well, that’s it for storytime, boys and girls. Thanks for coming.” Sweatpants spoke up at the back of the room, the self-elected leader of Wakefield’s fattest and frumpiest. “But it’s only quarter past, Afton. Isn’t storytime supposed to be a full hour?” “Just figured you were all on your way to get a double-scoop of leprosy.” “Very funny.” I raised my hands in a gesture of mock uncertainty. “We’ve got crafts we can do.” I pointed to three short tables covered in plastic, adorned with supplies that Kim had set up for us. “Should we get to it?” “That won’t take long. Couldn’t you read them another story first?” Couldn’t I read them another story? It’d been her idea to squeeze out one of these little nightmares. Why was I being punished for it? “Not this week, I’m afraid. Sorry.” But she just wouldn’t give up. “Afton, do you know where Jessi’s daddy is right now?” My first thought was that her husband was probably fucking her sister at some roadside motel with hourly rates, bed bugs, and a one-star rating on Trip Advisor. I couldn’t say that out loud, of course, and so I fought like hell to keep a smirk off my face. It helped to keep my sights trained on Jessi, who had sat back down, cross-legged in a checkered dress. She was drawing on the floor with one small finger. Sweatpants answered her own question. “He’s at work, Afton. And he works hard, by the way, and we pay more than our share of taxes in this town. Taxes that pay your salary.” Oh, the salary card. How I loved it when disgruntled parents brought up my salary, as if any one of them wanted to trade places with me. Yes, her taxes paid me a small fortune. That’s why I rented a one-bedroom apartment in a triplex. And it’s the same reason I drove a seven-year-old Corolla. I was so grateful—indebted, even—to Sweatpants and her husband that I just couldn’t wait to read another story. “Sure thing.” I grabbed a second book off the pile next to me. “One more story, coming right up.” Sweatpants smiled. It was a flat, fake smile, of course, the kind where the mouth curls tight but the eyes are dormant. It was about the best I could have hoped for, and it seemed to have a calming effect on the other mothers. They quieted down, eager to return to their various text message conversations. I pointed my finger to more jumbo text on a colorful page. A story about an overweight and diabetic caterpillar with impulse control issues, who was always so very very fucking hungry. “In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf . . .” And I couldn’t help but lose myself in thought. I was that little egg on a leaf, glimmering in the moonlight, and about to hatch. Soon after, the morning would come. And my hunger would be satiated at last, because Kenneth Pritchard would be dead. ![]()
GIVEAWAY!
Title: Bewitching Sloth
Series: Seven Deadly Series #1
Author: Michelle Gross
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: July 30, 2018
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Reapers are the peacekeepers—the balancers of life and death, good and evil. They’re the police of the Underworld in a way. They keep both worlds balanced just enough so that the King of the Underworld can never escape his prison.
For the day his reign stretches into the human world, all things good will come to an end.
This is the story of a dark king who cursed seven siblings with sins, and how far those seven went to protect both worlds from the end of days when an old entity challenged the Dark One’s very reign.
Isabella Wen has spent the last decade in the human world hiding from the one that turned her touch deadly, made her body a weapon for his own gain.
Sebastian Reaper—bearer of the sin of sloth and the eldest son of the revered Grim Reaper—has spent his entire life fighting to stay awake because of his curse.
When the witch finds the sleepy sloth passed out in the human hospital, they touch and sparks fly. Her touch should have hurt him. Instead, it’s the one thing he’s after.
She thinks her darkness is her undoing. He thinks she’s his cure.
When her past and her future collide, he must choose between duty and heart.
The world or her?
Each book in the series is about a different sibling and their sin, so the romance has an ending in each book. As for the storyline, it’s just getting started
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Michelle is from a small town in Eastern Kentucky where opossums try to blend in with the cats on the porch and bears are likely to chase your pets—this is very true, it happened with her sister’s dog. Despite the extra needed protection for your pets, she loves the mountains she calls home. She has a man and twin girls who are the light of her life and the reason she’s slightly crazy.
As a kid, she was that cousin, that friend, that sister and daughter, the talker who could spin a tale and make-believe into any little thing so it was no surprise when she found love in reading, and figured all these characters inside her head needed an outlet. They wanted to be heard, so she wrote.
The voices keep growing faster than she gets the time to write.
The stories are never going to end. That’s perfectly okay, though. We never want to stop an adventure.
She writes and loves many different genres so sign up to her mailing list to keep updated on her releases!
A Study In Shifters
by Majanka Verstraete (The Adventures of Marisol Holmes, #1) Published by: Monster House Books Publication date: June 26th 2018 Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult
Synopsis:
Seventeen-year-old Marisol Holmes may be the great-great-great granddaughter of Sherlock Holmes, but it’s hard to live up to the family name when only one mistake can spell your downfall. After trusting the wrong guy in a case gone totally wrong, Marisol convinces the Conclave, an underground organization of detectives solving supernatural cases, to give her a last chance to prove her worth, and maybe even heal her broken heart After all, as a half-blood jaguar shifter, Marisol is uniquely qualified to solve this murder—and every scrap of evidence points toward the culprit being a fellow jaguar shifter. But is one of her own people involved, or is this all a ploy to kick Marisol’s mother off the shifter throne? Then Marisol discovers her best friend, Roan, is missing, and maybe the killer’s next target. The stakes just got higher than political intrigue. Just when things couldn’t get worse, Marisol’s ex-boyfriend-turned-nemesis, Mannix, starts leaving sinister clues for her. Marisol fears this case might be far more personal than she could’ve imagined. It’s time for Marisol to prove her worth, or her people could fall into chaos while her best friend loses his life.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36684173-a-study-in-shifters
Purchase: Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Study-Shifters-Adventures-Marisol-Holmes-ebook/dp/B077V25K4X/ B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-study-in-shifters-majanka-verstraete/1127567206?ean=9781945723292 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/a-study-in-shifters
Excerpt: “Two minutes left.” The smug look had returned to Balthy’s face. He obviously wasn’t convinced I could solve the case in time. And honestly, I was getting pretty nervous, too. The fact that it took me slightly over ten minutes to figure out a demon was the culprit proved I was still off my game. My focus had suffered drastically during my last mission, and the reason for that had a name. Mannix. Just thinking about him put a picture of him in mind instantly. Of his sparkling green eyes that pierced straight into my soul. Of his unruly black hair that sometimes covered his gaze. Of his whiskey-rough voice that promised me things that would never be real… Promises like how he loved me. And with those words, he’d distracted me, made me bring down the walls around my heart, with the end result that people died. People I cared about. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the thoughts haunting me, determined not to let feelings get in my way this time. “Thirty seconds left,” Balthy said in a gleeful tone. “You’re losing your touch.” The words hadn’t left his mouth before the final pieces of the puzzle clicked into place in my mind. “I’m finished,” I said. Balthy’s eyes turned into slits and his smile into a scowl as he moved to the door and knocked on it twice. His behavior didn’t surprise me. Balthazar Rollins, snake shifter, Sigil Bearer of the Conclave, and one of the highest-ranked members of our crime-solving institution hated me, my mother, and any non-snake shifter he had ever laid eyes on. ![]()
AUTHOR BIO:
Author Majanka Verstraete has written more than twenty unique works of fiction. A native of Belgium, Majanka’s novels explore the true nature of monsters: the good, the bad, and just about every species in between. Her young adult books include the acclaimed Mirrorland (YA Dark Fantasy) and Angel of Death (YA Paranormal) series of novels. At MHB, Majanka is currently developing a new YA shifter series with a fresh take on fierce female detectives called THE ADVENTURES OF MARISOL HOLMES. When she’s not writing, Majanka is probably playing World of Warcraft or catching up with the dozens of TV series she’s addicted to. Want the latest news about Majanka Verstraete? Sign up for our newsletter!
Title: Cross Drop
Series: On the Edge
Author: Elizabeth Hartey
Genre: NA Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 19, 2018 Publisher: Limitless Publishing
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Nikki
I’m not a saint. Never claimed to be. I’ve played the game and scored my fair share—both on and off the field. This is why I should have known better than to fall for a hockey player. But I did. I fell fast and hard.
Now I’m left with the painful consequences, reminded every day of how reckless I had been by giving him my heart so easily—so willingly. Dalt broke me in the cruelest of ways, and because of him, I’ll never be able to love again.
Dalt
Nikki changed me. She made me want to be a better man. My days playing off the ice were over because she owned every little piece of my heart…until she left, leaving behind a gnawing ache where my heart used to be.
Now she’s back, and it’s painfully clear she hates me, ignoring me, pretending like I’m nobody to her. But that’s just too damn bad. I want answers. I want a goddamn explanation.
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Title: Watch Over Her
Author: Olivia Stephen
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 21, 2018 Cover Photography/Design: Alexandra Davis of Alexandra Design and Alexander Beeman Cover Model: Lawren Beeman
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When her first love abandons her, and a heart-wrenching accident takes her parents too soon, Raina decides it's time for a fresh start. In a brand new town, with walls planted firmly around her heart, Raina has given up on her happily ever after, deciding it's easier to be alone than to risk losing it all. For a second time.
When she meets Zane, the new bartender in the small North Carolina town she now calls home, the foundation of those walls begins to crumble. Broody, irritable, and incredibly sexy, there's something about him she just can't shake.
As they begin to forge a connection together, Zane's tumultuous past catches up with him and threatens to destroy any potential future they may have, leaving Raina to question all the decisions she's made.
Watching over Raina is the hardest promise Zane has ever had to make. Sometimes love doesn't heal all wounds and not all happy endings are meant to be. But perhaps two tortured souls can find the peace they deserve, together.
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I don’t even see him come in the door of the bar. I feel it. I feel that intense gaze and the heat. The dynamics of this place actually change when he’s here. My eyes stay glued to my drink as the warmth in my face grows, causing my cheeks to turn even pinker than the blush I’d applied an hour earlier.
Sarah figures it out instantly and chuckles to herself. She’s very well aware of the brooding bartender and the way his ocean blue eyes zero in on me when he thinks I’m not looking. She often encourages me to just let loose and “Tap that,” as she puts it.
My eyes are drawn to that man like a moth to a flame. It’s as though I have no choice but to look, so, without even consciously thinking about it, I steal a quick glance, and I am once again captivated by the strong man looking directly at me. His eyes connect to mine, speak to mine, somehow making me believe that he can see into my very soul. Worn and frayed jeans that hang low on his hips, and a dark blue Henley that clings to his muscles adorn a well over six-foot-tall body. He is magnificently handsome tonight.
I see his stern face, and draw in a quick breath, hoping I can recover before he notices. There is interest in his eyes, but just as I catch that, he looks away. I think about the phrase, our eyes meet across a crowded room, and consider how amusingly appropriate it is for this moment.
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Olivia Stephen was born and raised in the mountains of Maryland. She is married to her long-time sweetheart and has two children, both currently enrolled in college. Olivia is a coffee indulging, sweet wine drinking, lover of books for both adults and children. She looks forward to at least one summer trip to the beach every year. Watch Over Her is Olivia's debut novel.
![]() Dark Water
-- EXCERPT: CHAPTER ONE “May God bless her and all who sail on her.” I cleared my throat, hoping I’d said it correctly, and gripped the bottle of champagne, terrified of letting it go too early or, worse still, missing the ship entirely. Beyond the ship, the ocean shimmered in the midday sun. Diamond-like sparkles of light bounced off the calm cerulean water—water that looked so inviting, I wanted nothing more than to jump in, to surrender to the balmy ripples. Of course, wanting it and doing it were two different things. First of all, I couldn’t swim, and secondly, my mother would pitch a fit if I took another step closer to the dock edge. She was already a bag of nerves from today’s event. I looked behind me, needing reassurance from my parents. This was my first official royal engagement, and I was terrified of messing it up. My father beamed at me with pride while my mother gave me a thin smile. I could see the fear in her eyes although she was doing her best to hide it. I was amazed she’d come at all. The ocean positively terrified her. My father’s hand was almost white with how hard my mother was squeezing it. Next to them, my little brother, Anthony, was picking his nose and examining the treasure he found up there. Not for the first time I was reminded how fortunate it was that I was the first in line to the throne. Beside me, my life-long best friend nudged me to let go of the bottle. Officially, his title was Sir Hayden Harrington-Blythe, but to me, he was just Hayden. He’d been my first crush since our first day in kindergarten when he’d pulled on my pigtails, and I’d stamped on his foot. Despite our unpromising start, over the years we’d turned into friends. My crush on him was long since over, and his pigtail pulling days were long gone, but somehow, our friendship had survived. “You do know you are supposed to let go of the bottle right?” whispered Hayden in my ear. I gave him a look I only ever reserved for him and lifted the bottle. Letting go, I watched it swing on a length of string, arcing towards the majestic ship’s wooden hull. It made a tinkling sound as it smashed against the side of the ship, scattering glass all over the paved dock. I couldn’t help thinking it was a waste of good champagne and that it would be better served at the ball being held in honor of my birthday in a couple of days’ time. Still, I felt invigorated by the salty smell of the ocean, the atmosphere of a thousand happy people coming out to see the launch, and the fact that I now had a boat that bore my name. I was feeling as excited as I could hope to feel, second only to being allowed to actually go out on the damn thing. The Erica Rose’s white sails flapped in the breeze below the official flag of Trifork as if she were eager to be off, out onto the ocean. I couldn’t blame her. To sail on the ocean was a lifelong dream of mine. Ever since I could remember, I’d looked out of my bedroom window toward the ocean and dreamed of the day that I’d be able to disappear beyond the rolling waves toward the horizon. It was a dream that had never, and would never, be realized as long as my parents were in charge. For a kingdom so well-known for its naval and merchant vessels, my parents were ridiculously strict about letting me go near the ocean. This was the closest I’d gotten in the whole eighteen years of my life, and I had a full team of palace guards surrounding me, stopping me from taking one step closer to the water’s edge than I had to. It was all because of my mother, of course. My father might have been the one that ruled Trifork, but in the palace, my mother was the one that wore the pants, so to speak. If my mother said I couldn’t go near the ocean, then my father wasn’t going to argue with her. However, today was a special day, and not even my mother could come up with a good enough reason for us not to be here. She might have been absolutely petrified, but she was the queen, a duty she held above everything, even crippling panic. Everybody clapped as the wooden ship began pulling up its anchor, its crew readying themselves to set sail. I took a deep breath and inhaled the salty air. Above the excited chatter of the crowd, seagulls cawed to each other as they flew overhead looking for an easy snack. Oh, how I envied them and their freedom. My father managed to extricate himself from my mother’s vice-like grip and joined me on the dock’s edge. My poor mother’s face turned even more ashen, and she had to grip a nearby railing instead to save herself from fainting. It was almost cruel, living so close to the ocean and being so frightened of it. I saw her eyes darting past my father and me to the ocean behind us as though it could somehow climb above the dock and swallow us whole. I don’t doubt it could on a stormy day, but today the skies were blue, and the sea was calm. “We here in Trifork have a rich sailing heritage, one of which I am immensely proud,” began my father into the microphone that had been set up for the occasion. “Today is a big day for me, both as a king and a father. As you all know, my daughter, the princess Erica Rose, will turn eighteen in just two days’ time. Her first official engagement was supposed to be at the ball, but she begged me to be allowed to launch this ship. Being the dutiful father I am, I agreed.” He paused at this point waiting for a laugh. When he got it, he carried on. “This is my birthday gift to you, dear Erica. I know you’ve always had a fondness for the sea and so this ship not only bears your name but also belongs to you.” I blinked a couple of times, unsure if what I was hearing was true. The ship was mine? I wasn’t allowed to dip my toes in the shallow waves at the beach, but I was allowed to own a ship? I gazed up at the huge galleon. “She’s mine?” Hope rose in my chest that I might, for the first time in my life, be able to go out on the ocean. My parents had never so much as let me sail in a dinghy before now, let alone go on a ship. “She’s all yours, sweetheart. As part of our fleet and a working ship, she will be taken out by her captain, Captain Jackson. But when she’s back in Trifork, you will be able to see her whenever you want.” “See her?” “Yes,” beamed my father, oblivious to the disappointment I was feeling. Only see her? I didn’t want a ship to look at. I’d spent my entire life watching the ships of Trifork sail in and out of the harbor. I wanted to sail to foreign lands, to feel the sea breeze upon my cheek. I wanted to know what it felt like to roll over the gentle waves with the vastness of the ocean the only thing in view. My mother caught my disappointment though. She could read me like a book. An elegant woman with a sharp tongue and an even sharper sense of style, she swallowed her terror and took a few steps toward me, toward the ocean. She walked tall and calmly, but a slight tremor in her step gave her away. “Aren’t you happy with your new ship?” “Yes ma’am,” I lied. What was the point of having a ship if I wasn’t allowed on it? She flicked her eyes past me, once again, toward the ocean. What was it she was looking for? Her eyes snapped back to me. “You know my feelings on you going near the sea, Erica. It’s a dangerous place. I nearly drowned when I was about your age.” She took my hand and pulled me a couple of steps toward her—away from the dock’s edge. I’d heard the story a million times. Every time I even hinted at wanting to go near the sea, she’d dredge up the same story about how she nearly drowned when she was younger. I wasn’t in the mood to hear it again. The ship was cast off, the gangplank raised. My ship was about to go on an adventure I could only dream of. The wind caught the sails and the majestic vessel began to move, her crew waving at us as she inched away from the dockside. My father clapped me on the back, a beaming smile on his face. Even my mother, who usually had a face like a prune when it came to anything to do with water, had found her smile again. I glanced over at Hayden. He knew I was disappointed. I talked about nothing but the ocean with him. He loved the water as I did, but unlike me, he could go out onto it whenever he wanted. He even had his own boat. It was nowhere near as grand as the Erica Rose, but at least, he was allowed to sail in it. He flicked his eyes almost imperceptibly towards the ship. I arched a brow. “Do it,” he mouthed silently and cast his eyes towards the ship once again. He wanted me to jump on the ship! He was actually daring me to do it. Thoughts of all the silly childhood pranks and adventures he’d led me into filled my mind. Hayden was the epitome of an irresistible bad idea. I followed his eye line to where the gangplank had been pulled up. The gate was still open, but it wouldn’t be for long. The ship was already a foot away from the dock and moving swiftly towards the open sea. I had seconds to make a decision. My heart hammered, and adrenaline took over. Without thinking too hard, I ran from my parents, barged past the palace guards, and jumped as far as I could right off the dock. The ship had moved much faster than I’d anticipated, and I missed the gate by a long shot, and instead of landing on the ship, I plunged head first into the sea. All I could hear were my mother’s screams as the water crowded in around me. The water that had looked so warm and inviting when I’d been standing on the dock was actually a lot colder than I’d imagined, and as I scrambled for air, its icy grip took my breath away Mouthfuls of briny water flowed into my mouth, causing me to choke as I tried desperately to keep above the water’s surface. In one terrifying instant, I realized what it was that my mother had been keeping me from for all these years. As I’d never been allowed in water deeper than a bath, I’d never learned how to swim. It occurred to me now that this wasn’t exactly my finest moment. The dress I’d had picked out for me, a knee length cotton blue dress was perfect for looking smart and launching a ship. It was utterly useless as a floatation device. The heavy, waterlogged fabric weighed me down, making it even harder to try to keep my head above water. Beside me, I heard a splash. I looked over to see a red and white life ring bobbing close by with a rope attached to it. On the other end of the rope, the Erica Rose’s crew shouted at me to grab hold. After I’d managed to pull myself through it, they heaved me up and pulled me over the side of the boat. A group of worried faces peered down at me. One of the men reached a hand down to help me up. As I righted myself, my dress dripped ocean water all over the deck and tightened around me. I felt so uncomfortable in the soggy outfit, but when I saw how far from the dock we’d already moved, excitement flooded through me. The fear I’d felt just moments before dissolved, leaving me feeling exhilarated. I was on a ship for the first time in my life, and we were sailing away from the dock. With giddy excitement, I gripped a railing. On the edge of the dock, my parents shouted and waved for us to come back. My heart fell as I caught the expression on my mother’s face. Her usual stern expression had contorted to one of absolute fear, and she wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. Her screams pierced the air, her usual stoic facade dropped completely as she tore at my father who was desperately trying to pull her back from the edge of the dock. Her fear of falling into the ocean was obviously smaller than losing one of her children to it. My stomach churned as I realized the severity of my actions. I’d only wanted to go out to sea. I didn’t want to hurt my mother in the process. I was going to be in the worst kind of trouble for this little stunt, and as we floated further and further out to sea, the more I realized that the adventure was not worth it. Captain Jackson, a tall man with a perfectly groomed black mustache and oiled down hair greeted me with a salute. I’d never been saluted before. Bowed to and curtseyed aplenty, but a salute was new to me. I raised my hand and saluted back, unsure of the etiquette. “I’m going to try to turn the ship back, your highness, but it may take a little time to adjust the sails. The wind is not optimal right now. There’s a squall coming, and I’d hoped to get far enough away to miss it.” I glanced out to the horizon. The seamless blue sky was darkening, and the sea below it matched its threatening color. Where had that come from? Only seconds before, the weather had been as perfect as anyone could wish for. “Yes, please turn around.” My heart dropped as I realized that my adventure was over before it had even started, and I’d gotten nothing out of it except to embarrass myself in front of thousands of onlookers and terrify my poor mother. I looked back over to the shoreline. My parents and all the onlookers were barely dots on the horizon now. To my right, I could see the public beach to which people flocked in the summer months. Beyond that were magnificent white cliffs that I’d heard plenty about but never actually seen before as they were only visible from the sea. To my left, the coast was much rockier, and here was where the royal castle stood. Only a wide promenade separated the rocks from the castle. It looked so dark and imposing with its granite grey towers; I barely recognized it from this angle. “Why don’t you go to my cabin and get changed out of those wet clothes. I’ll have one of my crew show you where it is.” Captain Jackson swiveled on his toe and left me alone, feeling terrible. I’d not paused to consider the crew or the captain, and now they were going to have to abort their mission. I could chalk up a few more people to the list of those I’d disappointed. With a sigh, I walked to the other side of the deck to look out at the vast ocean. In the distance, the sea turned black and churned ominously almost as though that part of the ocean was alive and out to get us. It was a stark contrast to the crystal clear and calm water beneath the ship. Above me, the crew of the Erica Rose battled to maneuver the sails to turn us around. “Your Royal Highness.” I heard someone shouting at me above the wind that was now blustering fiercely. Lightning forked, splitting the sky in two, and the wind tugged my hair from the clip that had been keeping it in place. Strands of long red hair whipped around my face. I turned to see a young man heading toward me. “I’m Joe, Your Highness, the second in command of the Erica Rose,” he said, giving me a quick bow. “The captain has asked me to escort you to his cabin.” Joe was barely older than me, with short, dirty blond hair and a winning smile. I was surprised to see someone so young be the second in command of such a ship. “It’s getting a little choppy,” Joe cautioned, his cheeks red as he took my hand. “They are going to struggle to get the ship back to shore. The forecast mentioned a little bit of turbulent water, but it looks to be shaping up to be a proper storm out there.” I followed Joe to a big wooden doorway, which he opened for me and beckoned me inside. As I thanked him, a boom filled the darkening sky. “Thunder,” Joe remarked, taking my hand and leading me down a corridor. I held on tightly to him as the ship listed violently to one side from the sharp turn of the wheel. He showed me to a large room with a writing desk on one side and a bed on the other. “There will be some clothes in the wardrobe there,” he said, pointing to a small door. “I don’t expect the captain has any dresses, but I’m sure you’ll find something dry to wear.” I watched the storm unfold through a small porthole as Joe left me to help the captain. It seemed no one was expecting the weather to be this bad and how could they? Only ten minutes earlier, there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky, and now there was barely any blue left, only the darkness of the sea and the sky. It was strange how quickly the storm had taken hold. I certainly had never seen anything like it before. Outside, the rain began to lash down, pitter-pattering on the round window. Thunder crashed as the waves became more intense with the roaring wind that whipped all around us. The storm had sneaked up on us quickly, and as far as I could see, we were getting further and further away from the coastline. Whatever Captain Jackson’s men were doing to turn the ship around, it wasn’t helping. I hated admitting it to myself after dreaming of the day I could finally sail on the sea for so long, but I was beginning to get scared. My mother’s screams echoed in my head, although we had drifted too far to really hear her. The boat creaked with the strain, and from out of the window, I could see we were being pulled closer and closer toward the storm. A crash from behind me made me jump. I turned to find that some previously neatly stacked dishes had been flung from the cupboard and were now in hundreds of pieces on the floor. Holding on was almost impossible, the ship was lurching so much. I tried walking over to the wardrobe that Joe had pointed out, but the floor beneath me was rocking so much under the motion of the waves that I could barely stand at all. With a shock, I saw a stream of water pushing the remnants of the dishes across the floor. It was coming from the doorway. We were taking on water. I held on to the writing desk to keep myself upright, but the motion of the ship knocked me to the floor. Something sharp pierced my side, and when I looked down, I saw a sliver of broken plate had cut through my dress and into my flesh creating a bloom of fresh blood on the wet fabric. I looked up to grab hold of the desk to pull myself back up and was shocked to see that the window was now partly submerged. We were sinking, and we were sinking fast. Pulling myself up, I ran to the door quickly. I had to get out, or I would drown. I yanked the door as hard as I could, and as it opened, a deluge of water rushed in knocking me over once again. The lights flickered out leaving me in complete darkness as the water engulfed me, sending me flying into something hard. Water filled my lungs as the blackness folded in around me, my mother’s warnings of the fierceness of the ocean echoing in my head. ![]()
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