Friday, July 31, 2015

Book Tour Out Of Timne by Beth Flynn


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OUT OF TIME is the HIGHLY ANTICIPATED sequel to NINE MINUTES where Grizz, Kit & Grunt's gritty tale continues!  You aren’t going to want to miss this!
NOW AVAILABLE
Barnes & Noble:  http://bit.ly/1JFlBBw
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Blurb
RECOMMENDED FOR READERS 18 AND OLDER DUE TO
STRONG LANGUAGE, SEXUAL SITUATIONS AND VIOLENCE
Out of Time is book two in a series. It is not a standalone novel. I highly recommend that you read my first novel, Nine Minutes, to be able to understand the background stories of the main characters. There are many twists and turns in both stories that can best be connected if read consecutively.
Although I do answer all of the outstanding questions from Nine Minutes, there is more to this story, and some readers may consider it a cliffhanger. If you do not like cliffhangers, you may want to wait until the third novel is released in 2016.
They thought with his execution it would all be over.
They were wrong.
The leader of one of South Florida’s most notorious and brutal motorcycle gangs has been put to death by lethal injection. Days later, his family and friends should have been picking up the pieces, moving on. Instead, they’ve been catapulted into a world so twisted and dangerous even the most ruthless among them would be stunned to discover the tangled web of deception, not only on the dangerous streets of South Florida but all the way to the top.
In this gripping follow-up novel to Nine Minutes, Out of Time takes readers from the sun-drenched flatlands of 1950s Central Florida to the vivid tropical heat of Fort Lauderdale to the halls of Florida’s Death Row as we finally learn the gritty backstory of Jason “Grizz” Talbot and the secret he spent his life trying to conceal.
Not even Grizz’s inner circle knows his full story—the tragedy that enveloped his early life, the surprise discovery that made him the government’s most wanted and most feared, and the depths of his love for Ginny, the tenderhearted innocent he’d once abducted and later made his wife.
Once Grizz’s obsession and now the mother of his child, Ginny has spent years grieving the man she’d first resisted and then came to love. Now remarried to Tommy, a former member of the gang, the pair have spent more than a decade trying desperately to live a normal existence far from the violent, crime-ridden world they’d once carved out on the edge of the Florida Everglades. For Tommy, especially, the stakes are high. Desperately in love with Ginny for years, he’s finally living his dream: married to the woman he never thought he could have. But even with the façade of normalcy—thriving careers, two beautiful children, and a genuinely happy and loving marriage—they can’t seem to put the past behind them. Every time they turn around, another secret is revealed, unraveling the very bonds that hold them together.
And with Grizz finally put to death, now Ginny has learned secrets so dark, so evil she’s not even sure she can go on.
Will these secrets tear their love to pieces? And how far will Grizz go to protect what he still considers his, even from beyond the grave?
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PLEASE READ & DO NOT POST: The following excerpt is new content and exclusive to the tour.  The Prologue was previously released,  however you are welcome to use
as much or as little as you like
**Prologue & Additional Teasers attached to email **
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EXCERPT

1979
“Yes! There is something I want for my birthday. Something I really want! I’ve been thinking about our prom date last year.”
“You want another romantic night at Martin’s beach house?” He grinned, relieved. A night making love with Kit at the beach house. Ohhhhh yeahhhh.
“No. Not the beach house.” She was bouncing in her seat now. “I want you to take me out! Dancing. I want to go to a club and go dancing.”
His smile faded and he looked a little deflated. He wasn’t going to tell her his name. He wasn’t going to go to church with her. How could he tell her no to the third thing she’d asked for?
“Shit, baby. You have to know I’m not a dancer. I barely got by with the slow dancing in Martin’s gazebo.”
“I want to go dancing, Grizz. Please! The only time I ever get to dance is when I convince Axel to dance with me in number four. And you know that’s barely ever. He won’t do it if there are a lot of people at the motel. He doesn’t want to risk being seen.”
Grizz had to smile at this. He’d walked in more than once on Axel and Kit dancing to one of those groups that Kit loved. If you asked him, those guys’ voices sounded like someone had their balls in a vice. A high-pitched squeal is all he ever heard and he never stayed around long enough to listen to an entire song.
“Why do you dance to a song about a bald-headed woman?” He’d asked her once.
Axel and Kit had stopped and peered at him strangely. “What do you mean by bald headed woman?” Kit had asked as Grizz turned the stereo down.
“These guys, who sound like women, are singing about a bald-headed woman,” Grizz replied.
She’d started laughing. “The Bee Gees are saying ‘more than a woman,’ Grizz. Not bald-headed woman! The song is called More Than a Woman and I happen to love it.”
“Whatever it’s called, it still sucks. I’m outta here.”
Grizz appreciated that Axel danced with his wife. And yes, he knew Axel’s other secret, too. He honestly didn’t care. He didn’t care what any guy decided to do with his dick as long as it was never near his wife. But he also knew he had to keep Axel’s secret. As leader, he had final say as to who could be in the gang. Still, he knew not everyone would be tolerant of Axel’s lifestyle. It was just easier to let it stay a secret. And besides, he was certain nobody suspected a thing.
“I don’t dance, Kit.” Grizz said now, shaking his head.
“But I want to go dancing for my birthday.” She folded her arms and gave him an accusing look. “You asked!”
He shook his head slightly and looked at her. “Can’t I just buy you another car?”
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Haven’t read this series yet, check out Nine Minutes for
ONLY $2.99!
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1KXRtHk





About the Author:
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Beth Flynn is a fiction writer who lives and works in Sapphire, North Carolina, deep within the southern Blue Ridge Mountains. Raised in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Beth and her husband, Jim, have spent the last 17 years in Sapphire, where they own a construction company. They have been married 31 years and have two daughters and two dogs. In her spare time, Beth enjoys writing, reading, gardening, church and motorcycles, especially taking rides on the back of her husband’s Harley. She is a five-year breast cancer survivor.

STALK HER:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

GIVEAWAY



Cover Reveal Letting Go (The Garage Series #1) by Holly Renee




Title: Letting Go
Series: The Garage Series #1
Author: Holly Renee
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 Release Date: August 31, 2015



Blurb

When Kat was forced to leave the only home she had ever known due to her brother's secrets, she wasn't prepared for what was waiting for her in Tennessee or the choices it would force her to make.

Kat instantly knew she didn't like Blake Reagan. He was cocky, stubborn, and infuriating. What Kat didn't understand was why she couldn't stop thinking about him or the way he made her feel.

The last thing Blake expected was for Kat Archer to storm into his world and turn it upside down. He thought he had her pegged from the beginning, but she destroyed everything he thought he knew. Blake was willing to fight to push his way into Kat's heart, but she put up a wall at every turn as she clung to her past.

If she stayed, she'd risk the only family she had left. If she left, she'd lose Blake and every piece of her heart that he'd managed to steal.








Pre-order Links

AMAZON US / UK







Author Bio

Bookaholic, firm believer in grand gestures, and obsessed with happily ever afters.

Holly Renee is from the small town of Maryville, TN where she was born and raised. She currently lives with her husband and fur baby, Luna. (Yes. She was named after Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter.)

Holly Renee is the author of her debut novel Letting Go.

During the day, Holly spends her time as a nurse, but once her shift ends, she falls deep into her passion of reading and writing.






Author Links

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Release Boost The Truth of Tristan Lyons by L.B. Dunbar




Title: The Truth of Tristan Lyons
Series: Legendary Rock Stars #4
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Rock Star Romance
 Release Date: July 27, 2015



Blurb

Heartbreaker.

I understand why I have the nickname. Hey, what can I say? I like women. All women. It doesn’t matter what shape, size, or color. I’m even into sharing. I’ve done it all, seen it all, but I’m at an all-time low. Who wouldn’t be? My best friend is missing. My uncle’s an asshole. I don’t know who I am without The Nights. We are a band of brothers, soldiering through the world with our music. Only, our faithful leader is gone, and everyone else in the band is falling for the oldest trap: love. Love is a lie. It is painful. It is hurtful.

I need a break. I want to be alone. I'm not prepared to share the exclusive home on the Island. I'm not prepared for her. I don’t know who she is or why she's here. She tells me to call her Ireland. I tell her my first name only. Originally, I don’t want to believe she doesn’t recognize me. Bass guitarist for The Nights, come on? After a while we both play the game. Secrets are another form of lies, aren't they?

Our fantasy will crash to reality too soon. Secrets catch up to you. The truth has to be told. It confirms what I already know: love is a lie.

Until her.







Links to Buy

AMAZON US / UK







Also Available


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Excerpt

The Truth of Tristan Lyons excerpt © L.B. Dunbar

I wanted to know who she was. Scratch that, I didn’t care who she was. I wanted to know how she got in the house. Damn these fangirls, sometimes.  They knew no shame. 
“Hey,” I said grabbing her upper arm. “How did you get in here?”
She seemed caught unaware of my approach and screamed loudly, pushing at my chest hard enough, the sheer surprise forced me to let go of her.
With her hand on her chest and her breasts rising and falling in great agitation, I was able to see her big blue eyes and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose. Her chin length blonde hair fell forward as she bent to clasp her knees and catch her breath.
Standing up almost as quickly as she bent over, she spoke to me through delicious looking pink lips.
“Who the fuck are you?” she growled.
“Who the fuck, are you?” I returned.
“I’m…”
“You know what, never mind. You need to go,” I said, cutting her off and reaching for her upper arm again. “I don’t know how you got in here, where you came from, or how you found me, but you need to go.”
I began to tug her toward the front entry, her feet sliding in her flip-flops across the tile flooring. She pulled back, and the force made her skid on an angle across the slippery surface as I dragged her. She continued to glare at me quizzically, leaning away from me.
“I don’t know what you are talking about?”
“Did you follow me, is that it? See me in the airport?”
“What?”
“Okay, I love you too, now you need to go. Okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am?”
“I don’t.”
I stopped, still holding firmly to her arm. Something in her voice sounded like she was being serious.
“I’m Tristan.”
She blinked, confusion clearly on her face. I was thoughtful for a moment. It was the innocence in her blue eyes, and the fact she looked like she might cry. Something wasn’t right with this scenario.
“Trist – an,” I said slowly, as if she had some type of hearing impairment.
“Who?”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
“Country,” she answered so quickly, she didn’t even blink an eye or stop for thought. On top of that, she said it in such a way that showed she was thoroughly confused, and almost disgusted with me, for even asking such a ridiculous question. She wrinkled her nose.
“Look, I know the owner, and you shouldn’t be here.”
“I know the owner,” I repeated, “and you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said, pulling at her own arm again and sticking out a hand to press against my chest as leverage. I had tugged my shirt off at some point while I was passed out, and her warm hand felt good on my air-conditioned cool skin. Her hand was tiny, I noticed. All of her was thin.
“I’m supposed to be here. Alone,” I emphasized again.
She didn’t respond, so I added, “I think I’ll just call the owner myself, to see where the mix up is.”
“No,” she blurted, stopping in her physical struggle against me. Her eyes opened even wider, if that was possible, and her face was suddenly full of something I couldn’t read. Her blue eyes brightened in a frightening sort of way. Was that fear? Good, she should be afraid.
“Please. I swear. I’m allowed to be here. You don’t need to call Isa.” 
She had me. I didn’t really know who Isa was, and the girl sounded confident enough that I let her call my bluff.
“If there is a mistake, and you were scheduled to stay as well, I won’t complain. As a matter of fact, I won’t even be in your way. You won’t even know I’m here. I plan to keep to myself.”  Her eyes were glassy, and again I worried she was about to cry.
I released her arm and she pulled it back quickly. She fisted the hand of that arm, holding it against her chest. She began rubbing her upper arm with the opposite hand. I noticed again that she was thin, as were her breasts. I didn’t care for small chested girls. I didn’t care for her.
“Well, I’m Tristan, whom you claim to not know, and you are?”
“I’m…Ireland.”
“Ireland what?”
“Just…Ireland.”
I shook my head.
“So this is how we’re going to play it? Fine, my Irish Isle. What are you doing in the Caymans?”
She looked at me for a moment, then leaned toward me and sniffed. She held the disgusted expression on her face and wrinkled her nose as she pulled back.
“Probably the same thing as you.”
“Drinking myself into oblivion?” I laughed, crossing my arms over my bare chest defensively.
“Hiding,” she replied.







Author Bio


L.B. Dunbar loves to read to the point it might be classified as an addiction. The past few years especially she has relished the many fabulous YA authors, the new genre of New Adult, traditional romances, and historical romances. A romantic at heart, she’s been accused of having an overactive imagination, as if that was a bad thing. Author of the Sensations Collection, Sound Advice, Taste Test, Fragrance Free, Touch Screen, and Sight Words, she is also author of the Legendary Rock Star series, beginning with The Legend of Arturo King. She grew up in Michigan, but has lived in Chicago for longer, calling it home with her husband and four children.

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I’d like to say I was always a writer. I’d also like to say that I wrote every day of my life since a child. That I took the teaching advice I give my former students because writing every day improves your writing. I’d like to say I have my ten-thousand hours that makes me a proficient writer. But I can’t say any of those things. I did dream of writing the “Great American Novel” until one day a friend said: Why does it have to be great? Why can’t it just be good and tell a story?

As a teenager, I wrote your typical love-angst poetry that did occasionally win me an award and honor me with addressing my senior high school class at our Baccalaureate Mass. I didn’t keep a journal because I was too afraid my mom would find it in the mattress where I kept my copy of Judy Blume’s Forever that I wasn’t allowed to read as a twelve year old.

I can say that books have been my life. I’m a reader. I loved to read the day I discovered “The Three Bears” as a first grader, and ever since then, the written word has been my friend. Books were an escape for me. An adventure to the unknown. A love affair I’d never know. I could be lost for hours in a book.

So why writing now? I had a story to tell. It haunted me from the moment I decided if I just wrote it down it would go away. But it didn’t. Three years after writing the first draft, a sign (yes, I believe in them) told me to fix up that draft and work the process to have it published. That’s what I did. But one story let to another, and another, and another. Then a new idea came into my head and a new storyline was created.

I was accused (that’s the correct word) of having an overactive imagination as a child, as if that was a bad thing. I’ve also been accused of having the personality of a Jack Russell terrier, full of energy, unable to relax, and always one step ahead. What can I say other than I have stories to tell and I think you’ll like them. If you don’t, that’s okay. We all have our book boyfriends. We all have our favorites. Whatever you do, though, take time for yourself and read a book.
 

L.B. Dunbar






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