Showing posts with label Biog Tour & Giveaway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Biog Tour & Giveaway. Show all posts

Tuesday, 9 February 2016

RELEASE BLAST: LEAVING YESTERDAY by ZOE DAWSON


Enter to Win $25 Amazon eGift Card
 
 
Leaving Yesterday
Laurel Falls #1
By: Zoe Dawson
Releasing February 9, 2016
Loveswept

 
 
BLURB:
If you love Susan Mallery, Kristan Higgins, or Rachel Gibson, don’t miss the start of this captivating small-town romance series! Laurel Falls, Montana, features spectacular mountain scenery—but it takes a rugged cowboy to convince one woman to slow down and enjoy the view.
 
Rafferty Hamilton doesn’t plan on putting down roots anytime soon. With her divorce final, the hotel heiress has left Manhattan behind to scout new locations for her family’s chain of resorts. Which is why it’s so frustrating to be stranded in Laurel Falls while a good-looking, slow-talking, Stetson-wearing mechanic takes his sweet time with her overheated coupe.
 
A decorated vet who paid his dues in Afghanistan, Trace Black can fix anything with an engine and get it revving—even Rafferty’s ridiculous sports car. He’s couldn’t say the same for the knockout driver, who looks like she’s never gripped a gear shaft in her life. Women like Rafferty don’t usually stick around in Laurel Falls, but Trace finds himself showing her everything his hometown has to offer before she cruises on down the road.
 
As the days pass, Rafferty finds herself charmed by the pace of life and the openhearted warmth of the residents. She’s even tempted to trust again—and it’s all thanks to Trace. He’s not the kind of guy she’s used to falling for, but he just might be the man she needs.
 
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Her phone had rung, and she’d glanced at the display and said, “Shit.” It had been her father’s girlfriend, Susan. That was, actually, not really true. Susan Chambers was more than just her father’s girlfriend. She’d been with him since Rafferty was little and was the strongest female influence in her life. Susan was so put together and tolerated her father’s hours because hers were just as bad, but they had clicked and still clicked. Her father hadn’t looked at another woman since he’d met Susan, and that made total sense. She was gorgeous, one of the premier lawyers in New York City, and made the best macaroni and cheese ever.
She’d ignored her calls all the way through Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana. Susan had left her a voicemail outside of Illinois to call her or else. Then, she stressed about it all the way through Wisconsin, Minnesota, and South Dakota.
It was true that she had opted to drive to California for business but take a side trip to scout out some land in Montana. Hamilton Hoteliers was always looking for strategic and scenic sites to place its resorts. Her father, Ross Hamilton, ran his empire with an iron hand. She worked closely with him and loved her job, but was tired of seeing the country from an airplane window. That was her cover story and she was sticking to it.
“Are you going to lecture me? I might disappear into the Rockies and never come out. Become a mountain woman and live off the land.”
“That’s going to be hell on your high heels and mocha latte addiction.”
“Don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t you ignore my calls and texts again, sweetie, or I’ll ground you.”
That made her huff a laugh. “I ignored Daddy’s, too, if that helps.” Her stomach dropped and she blinked back tears as she looked to the open brown meadow dotted with thick copses of trees out her side window.
“Yes, since I live with the man, you have been a topic of conversation recently. I mean this in the best sense, honey. You can’t run from your emotions.”
The tears slipped down her cheeks, and she brushed them impatiently away, her throat tight. “According to Sean, I don’t have any. I’m incapable of being emotionally intimate.” That had scared her the most. Was that true? The loss of her relationship sent doubts through her every day until she had to get away. This road trip was a perfect escape.
She had thought she loved Sean. “I’m afraid he was right.” She couldn’t keep the words from sounding nose-clogged from crying.
“That’s so not true. You are a wonderful, caring person.” There was just her sniffling, then Susan, her voice even more sympathetic, said, “Aw, honey. If you’re crying, you’re feeling. So he’s full of it.” Rafferty’s eyes welled up all over again. Susan’s words helped her feel a bit better.
“Sean really fooled us all. Sure, he looked good on paper, but you didn’t seem all that happy to me.”
Realizing that the tow guy was going to be here any minute, she wiped at her eyes, needing to get control over her emotions. “I guess I wasn’t, and I didn’t really realize it. I thought I was in the perfect marriage.”
“Sweetie, don’t beat yourself up too much. It takes two to tango, so this is not all on you. He cheated on you. There’s no reason for that in my book. Have the balls to step up and talk about it.”
“I guess that is true. He never said a word to me.”
There was a pregnant pause, and Susan said, “Sean was all about prestige and showing wealth. Flaunting it. He thought of you as just another possession that he could show the world he’d accumulated. You’re no one’s trophy wife.”
“Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me. I guess I wasn’t prepared.”
“Who’s ever prepared for the end of their marriage?” Susan said softly.
She certainly hadn’t been, and she had spent many nights going over all of it in her head. She had failed—felt like a failure because she had really thought she was making it work.
Her tone turned serious. “Really, sweetheart. It’s his loss.”
Rafferty smiled at the emphatic way Susan said those words.
“How about we make a day of it when you get back? Shopping, spa day with a manicure and pedicure. I’ll treat for lunch wherever you want to go.”
“Yes, that sounds wonderful. I’ll have to let you know when I get back. Hit a snag.”
“What snag?”
“This fabulous little sports car broke down. I’m waiting for a tow. If I was back in Manhattan—”
“It would be twice as long,” she said wryly. “Isn’t that car new?”
It sure is. It just went clunkity-clunk and stopped working.”
“Hopefully it’s not something serious and you’ll have something to look forward to when you get back. So, other than the unresponsive car, how is your escape from Manhattan going? You’re up early.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to see the sunrise, and it was spectacular. All pink and purple watercolor streaks. Montana is breathtaking, but damn this state is big, filled with guys wearing cowboy hats, tight jeans, and sexy boots, which as far as I’m concerned all go in the plus column. I see trailers on the road hauling horses, cattle, and other stinky livestock. Con column.”
“You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
“That is the honest truth. I have never seen so many cattle—”
A shiny white-and-chrome tow truck pulled in front of her with Black’s stenciled on the side in black. All she caught was a glimpse of a black Stetson. She did have to think again that Montana, or Cowboy Central as she was starting to think of it, was chock full of plenty of sexy men to take her mind off how lonely she felt.
The door to the truck opened, and a leg appeared. But all she could focus on at the moment was his thick, jean-clad thigh. He reached down to unsnag the hem that had caught on the top of his well-worn black cowboy boot, the hat obscuring his features, but the glimpse she’d gotten of a hard, clean-shaven jaw made her stomach jump and heightened her interest.
She followed his movement back up as he swung out of the truck, giving her the full view of his slim-hipped, broad-shouldered body, but then he raised his head, and the shadow caused by the brim disappeared from his . . . Ohmigod . . . face.
The sight of him sucked the breath right out of her. Her mouth went slack and Susan’s voice was nothing but a buzz in her ear.
Brown hair curled around his ears and tickled his neck, dark brows arched over a set of blue eyes that were a knee-melting deep cobalt. She tightened her hand on her phone as she took in his Roman nose, and a mouth with lips that were made to be kissed, the bottom lip fuller than the top.
His blue work shirt stretched over an impressive wide chest. Stitched on his left pocket was his name, Trace, and on the other pocket, Black’s Garage.
He moved with a sexy, rolling gait filled with confidence. When he saw her get out of the car, he slowed, his eyes going over her. The way he gazed at her made her breath hitch. Even when she looked down and away from that stare, she could feel his scrutiny. For the first time since she’d signed those divorce papers and walked out of her lawyer’s office, she felt exposed and vulnerable all over again. Those . . . blue . . . oh-so-blue eyes. What was she supposed to do about them when all she wanted to do was look back, deeply back, and ask questions?
“The mechanic is here. I’ve got to go.”
“If you need me, just let me know,” Susan said.
She needed a big bucket of really cold water right now, wanting not to be affected by him at all. “I’ll call you with an update,” she said, disconnecting the call and tucking her phone into her bag. She eyed the driver again and tried to remember that oxygen was an important, life-giving requirement.
Maybe Laurel Falls was a perfect place for both breakdowns.
 
 
 
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Zoe Dawson had always dreamed of becoming a full-time romance writer, and with determination, persistence, and a little luck that wish came true. Her other passions include traveling the world, owning a beach house (she believes she was a mermaid in another life), and seeing her books in movies. When she’s not writing, she’s painting or killing virtual MMORPG monsters in World of Warcraft. She lives in North Carolina with her two grown children and one small, furry gray cat.
 
Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
 

 
 
 
 

Wednesday, 27 January 2016

SPOTLIGHT & GIVEAWAY: MERCURY STRIKING by REBECCA ZANETTI

 
Enter to Win 1 of 3 Print Copies of MERCURY STRIKING (U.S. Only)


Mercury Striking
The Scorpius Syndrome #1
By: Rebecca Zanetti
Releasing January 26, 2016
Zebra
BLURB: 
With nothing but rumors to lead her, Lynn Harmony has trekked across a nightmare landscape to find one man—a mysterious, damaged legend who protects the weak and leads the strong. He’s more than muscle and firepower—and in post-plague L.A., he’s her only hope. As the one woman who could cure the disease, Lynn is the single most volatile—and vulnerable—creature in this new and ruthless world. But face to face with Jax Mercury…

Danger has never looked quite so delicious…

 
Buy Links:  Amazon | B & N | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo



What had she done? Lynne had actually fallen asleep on Jax Mercury. She awoke, blinking inside the stifling hood, just as he lifted her into the cool morning air and easily strode over uneven ground. A slight change of temperature hit her, and his steps leveled out.

            Inside. They were inside somewhere. The smell of dust and burned tomato soup tickled her nose, but no sound provided a clue as to their whereabouts. All but blinded, she tried to tune in to her other senses. Jax’s boots clomped heavily across a hard surface, and his heart beat steadily against her shoulder.

            His stride didn’t hitch as he climbed stairs, turned, walked in a too-quiet area, and opened a door. The world tilted, and he placed her, gently actually, on what felt like a fake leather sofa.

            He yanked the hood off.

            Light from halogen lamps assaulted her wide pupils, and she winced, her eyes tearing. “You’re an ass.”

            Silver flashed, and he cut the zip ties. “So it has been said.”

            Heat climbed into her face. The man had carried her easily and didn’t seem winded a bit. Even so, the legends whispered around campfires and refugee camps across the country had to be exaggerated. Nobody was that tough. “We need to talk,” she gritted out.

            He yanked a kitchen chair toward her, turned it, and straddled it. Now, in the light, she was struck by how young he really was. Maybe mid-thirties, black hair, dark brown eyes, and rugged facial features. Handsome in a pissed-off kind of way. A scar cut under the left side of his jaw, white and deadly. “So, talk.”

            She swallowed and tugged her backpack to her chest, glancing around what appeared to be a small apartment. A kitchenette took up one wall, an unmade bed the other, with dented furniture in between. Sofa, metal coffee table, woodlaminate kitchen table, paint peeling pink kids’ dresser, and mismatched kitchen chairs. Maps covered the table, spread out haphazardly. “Where am I?”

            “You don’t get to know that.” He rested his arms on the top of the chair, muscles flexing.

            She bit her lip. Men’s clothing littered the unmade bed, and the smell of musk and male filled the atmosphere. “Whose place am I in?”

            “Mine.” He lifted a shoulder, his gaze unwavering. “And yours now, I guess.”

            She pushed back into the torn pleather. “I’m not, I mean, I—”

            One dark eyebrow rose. “You’re here because I’m keeping an eye on you and making sure you don’t infect anybody else.”

            “I won’t infect anybody else,” she said slowly, her nails digging into the couch until the pads of her fingertips protested. “We don’t really know the truth about that statement, now do we? You’re the ultimate carrier of the most dangerous plague to ever attack mankind.” He lowered his chin, the movement somehow menacing. “You’re also here so I can make sure you’re not ready to check out.”

            She rolled her eyes. “If I’d wanted to kill myself, I wouldn’t have traveled this far to do it.”

            “Fair enough.”

            She glanced at the unmade bed. Too many women had become victims as the world had disintegrated; the strong overcame the weak. She wasn’t weak, and she was no man’s plaything. “I’m not here for your amusement.”

            “I’m not amused.” He leaned toward her, and her breath caught in her throat. “Let me be perfectly clear. I don’t force myself on women, and neither do any of my men. Any people here, and anyone we come across, remain safe from personal attack. Rape is a crime dealt with by death, so you have no need to fear.”

            She’d heard that in the rumors and tales, but she hadn’t known it to be true. “Women don’t earn their keep, earn their protection, with sex here?” Wherever here was.

            “No.”

            “You were in an inner-city L.A. gang. Years ago.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Rape was against the rules?”

His face blanked. “No, but I’ve never forced a woman.” Those dark eyes narrowed. “My past is my own. You sure know a lot about me.”

            Not really. He’d become a folk legend fighting in L.A. before the news had shut down. Since then she’d been trying to gather facts, but there were still blanks. “Why did you leave the gang? I’ve never heard why you entered the army.”

            He rubbed his chin. “Judge gave me a choice. Prison or military. I guess he saw something in me.”

            She let her shoulders relax. “I wondered.”

            “Yeah.” Jax eyed her shirt just at her neck. “Can I see again?”

            Well, she couldn’t really blame him. She set aside the pack holding her father’s precious journal. Her fingers remained steady this time as she unbuttoned the blouse and drew open the sides.

            Jax’s nostrils flared, while a tension, one she barely remembered as sexual, overtook the atmosphere. “Does it hurt?”

            “The blueness?” She glanced down, her lungs suddenly

too tight  “No. I don’t feel anything.”

            He reached out and gently took her wrist, shoving the sleeve up to reveal the track marks on her elbow. “This must hurt.”

            His touch stirred awareness deep in her abdomen, and surprise paused her at the feeling. When was the last time she’d felt desire? Or even warmth from another’s touch? She glanced down at the scars caused by drawing so much blood. So many times, and outside of normal medical procedures after a while. “Yes. That hurts.”

            “I knew a junkie once with an arm like this.” Jax shook his head and unrolled her sleeve. “The irrationality of a thing is not an argument against its existence, rather, a condition of it,” he murmured, securing the buttons at her wrist. She frowned as the familiar words rolled around her head. “Einstein?”

            “Nietzsche.” Jax lifted an eyebrow. “Rumor has it you’re carrying an advanced form of Scorpius. True or false?” “False rumor to isolate me.” She tried to keep her tired eyes open.

            Jax gestured toward her pack. “I get the food and water you have, but what’s in the journal?”

            She sighed. “Sorry, but there’s nothing about Scorpius. My dad was a physicist and a philosopher. He wrote a lot down.”

            Jax blinked. “That’s quite the combination.”

            “Yes.” The words on paper were all she had left of her parents.

            Jax studied her and then looked toward the gas lamp on the counter. “We have lanterns left, but not for long unless we get more fuel. So keep an eye on the lamp but extinguish it if you go to sleep.”

            “I understand.” The guy was quoting Nietzsche? What kind of an ex-gang member turned army special ops turned leader of a vigilante group knew philosophy? She shook her head. Time to negotiate. “I’m here for a reason.” “I’m sure.” He eyed her blue heart again. “You can cover up.”

            She fumbled in refastening her shirt. “I’ll teach you everything I know about the illness, and you provide temporary protection and one kill.” The mere idea she was contracting a murder banished the desire humming inside her and replaced the heat with a lump of cold rock.

            A veil fell over Jax’s eyes. “What makes you think we don’t know everything you do about the illness?”

            She shrugged, wondering if he knew what kind of information he might have stored away just from his ransacking labs. “The Internet went down fast, much faster than anyone would’ve thought, and the news and television thereafter. No way do you know what I know.”

            He watched her patiently, as if waiting to strike. “The Internet went down because of a guy named Spiral.”

            She blinked. Wow. So Jax Mercury had some seriously good intel. “True. He was infected with the illness and then reacted by creating a world-class computer virus. Figured if bodies died, so should technology, since it got us in this fix in the first place.” Her instincts hummed. Underestimating Mercury would be a colossal mistake. Suddenly, and for the first time in way too long, hope struggled to unfurl within her. “I still know more about the illness than you do.”

            “Probably.” He studied her for a few moments longer before cocking his head to the side. “What else?”

            She cleared her throat. “I assume you’ve scavenged the area you control?”

            His chin lifted. “So?”

            She swallowed, her body stilling. “Did you scavenge the emergency CDC outpost on the southeast side of L.A.?” Her blood pumped so fast she could feel a vein in her neck bulging.

            “Yes. Why?” he asked softly.

            The softness contained a deadly intent that rippled a shiver down her spine. Her fingers fidgeted. “They had the most recent research, and combined with mine, we might have hope.” They also had intel on where Myriad, the ultrasecret lab, might be located.

            He studied her. “We raided the CDC outpost and took all medical supplies and paper records. Our limited medical personnel went through the files looking for cures, but I have to be honest, none of them are researchers with your background.”

Lynne leaned forward. “I’m happy to go through all the information and decipher it for you.” Oh God. Maybe the risk of heading into Mercury’s territory would actually pay off . . . if she could find Myriad. “Could I look through the data?”

            He leaned back and studied her. “Sure. Are you telling me there may be a cure?”
 


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
USA Today Bestselling author Rebecca Zanetti has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and a hearing examiner - only to culminate it all in stories about Alpha males and the women who claim them. She writes contemporary romances, dark paranormal romances, and romantic suspense novels.

Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family who inspire her every day—or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.

 Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads