Monday, January 9, 2017

BOOK TOUR - Break Point by Rachel Blaufeld @rachelblaufeld



It’s reckless and hot until one of them taps out.
Break Point by Rachel Blaufeld NOW AVAILABLE!!!

iBooks: **coming soon**

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Juliette Smith, star tennis player, is starting over at a new university. Traumatized by hazing at her last school, all she wants is to attend classes, win tennis matches, and be left the hell alone.
She should have known her coach, Drew King, would be a problem from the moment he flexed his sexy-as-hell forearms.
What happens when you mix a pissed-off woman with a bunch of snooty teammates and a hot coach?
A heated match, complete with team politics and a forbidden game of singles with the coach.

It’s reckless and hot until one of them taps out.

Unable to admit she may be better off as a double, Jules is convinced she needs to play the game of life alone. Then life throws her a lob and she runs smack into her past.
Coach King is back, and he wants to take control of the game. But she’s not certain she wants his advice when it comes to the life she’s built.
The power struggle is on, but this time off the court.

Book Trailer

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The Boys of Verite make an appearance in Break Point.  
Do not miss out on the opportunity to grab this stand alone sports romance!

Meet Rachel
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Rachel Blaufeld is a bestselling author of Romantic Suspense, New Adult, Coming-of-Age Romance, and Sports Romance. A recent poll of her readers described her as insightful, generous, articulate, and spunky. Originally a social worker, Rachel creates broken yet redeeming characters. She’s been known to turn up the angst like cranking up the heat in the dead of winter.
A devout coffee drinker and doughnut eater, Rachel spends way too many hours in local coffee shops, downing the aforementioned goodies while she plots her ideas. Her tales may all come with a side of angst and naughtiness, but end as lusciously as her treats.
When she isn’t writing, she can be found courtside, tweeting about hoops as her son plays, or walking around the house wearing earplugs while her other son, the drummer, bangs away.
To connect with Rachel, she’s most active in her private reading group, The Electric Readers, where she shares insider information and intimate conversation with her readers.
As well as:


Blog Tour - Separation Games by CD Reiss @CDReisswriter

Separation Games by CD Reiss
Series: The Games Duet # 2 Release Date: January 3, 2017 Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotic Romance
"CD Reiss writes the best erotica I have ever read."
Meredith Wild, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Hacker Series
The stunning conclusion to the New York Times Bestseller.
There’s one, unbreakable rule in the game.
Stay collected. Compartmentalize. Think your next move through. Never let your heart dictate your tactics.
The heart is impulsive.
The heart makes bad decisions.
The heart doesn’t see the long game.
Because the heart may have decided to get Adam back, but when the endgame comes, the heart’s going to be the first thing to break.
Separation Games
Amazon US ➜
Amazon UK➜:
He took my hand, putting it in his lap as if it was finally home. “What are we doing?” he asked.
“Screwing up.”
“Like it’s our job.”
“If you’re going to do something, I say, do it all the way.”
He squeezed my hand. I was jarred by the way he looked in the direction of the window, but not through it. He didn’t look like the commanding Dominant who had been my partner for the past few weeks. As handsome as ever, and graceful and sharp, a leader and a decider, but not the same.
He faced me. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
The streetlights glinted off the light in one eye and his jaw locked, catching things he’d never say. He looked like a man I knew and abandoned. Manhattan Adam.
“We can’t fix it,” I said, putting his hand in my lap, watching our clasped hands make a new form. I rubbed the outside of his thumb with mine, feeling it’s familiar shape, the strength of the knuckle and the texture of his skin on mine. “We have to build something new. And we can.” I looked up from our hands to his face.
Could I make him feel my optimism? Could I take a piece of it onto a fork and lift it to his lips? Would they part? Would he let me lay it on his tongue? Would he chew and swallow, saying “I do. I do believe we can, I do.”
He didn’t say that. He didn’t believe, but his lips needed to touch my belief and his tongue needed to taste my hope.
I don’t know if I kissed him or if he kissed me, but it felt like a first kiss, with full quivering that left me paralyzed at his nearness. The act of two tongues tasting each other was so intimate between strangers, so taken for granted over time, and so rarely is the wonder of it felt through to the bone.
He was licorice. Fennel and leather. And he moved like cool water, reacting to my movements, countering with his hands and his mouth, covering me with his attention. The kiss was the sway of sex, the smell of it, the carnal desire without the promise of anything but another dance.
About the Author
CD Reiss is a New York Times bestselling author. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn't pick up, she's at the well, hauling buckets.
Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master's degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere, but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.
Critics have dubbed the books "poetic," "literary," and "hauntingly atmospheric," which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she's some sort of braggart who's too good to chop a cord of wood.
If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.
Connect with the Author:

Excerpt Reveal - EGO MANIAC by Vi Keeland @ViKeeland

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The night I met Drew Jagger, he’d just broken into my new Park Avenue office. I dialed 9-1-1 before proceeding to attack him with my fancy new Krav Maga skills. He quickly restrained me, then chuckled, finding my attempted assault amusing.

Of course, my intruder had to be arrogant. Only, turned out, he wasn’t an intruder at all.

Drew was the rightful occupant of my new office. He’d been on vacation while his posh space was renovated. Which was how a scammer got away with leasing me office space that wasn’t really available for rent. I was swindled out of ten grand.

The next day, after hours at the police station, Drew took pity on me and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. In exchange for answering his phones while his secretary was out, he’d let me stay until I found a new place. I probably should have acted grateful and kept my mouth shut when I overheard the advice he was spewing to his clients. But I couldn’t help giving him a piece of my mind. I never expected my body to react every time we argued. Especially when that was all we seemed to be able to do.

The two of us were complete opposites. Drew was a bitter, angry, gorgeous-as-all-hell, destroyer of relationships. And my job was to help people save their marriages. The only thing the two of us had in common was the space we were sharing. And an attraction that was getting harder to deny by the day.


Available for Pre-order on iBooks, B&N, Google Play, and Kobo now!


Sometimes what you’re looking for comes when you’re not looking at all.




I hate New Year’s Eve. Two hours in traffic to make it not even the nine miles home from LaGuardia. It was after ten o’clock at night. Why weren’t all these people at a party by now? Whatever tension two weeks in Hawaii had relieved was already back to coiling tighter and tighter inside me as the town car inched its way uptown. I tried not to think about all the work I was coming back to—the endless string of other people’s problems to compound my own: She cheated. He cheated. Get me full custody of the kids. She can’t have the house in Vail. All she wants is my money. She hasn’t given me a blowjob in three years. Listen, asshole, you’re fifty, bald, pompous, and shaped like an egg. She’s twenty-three, hot, and has tits so young they almost reach up to her chin. You want to fix this marriage? Come home with ten Gs in fresh, crisp bills, and tell her to get on her knees. You’ll get your blowjob. She’ll get her spending money. Let’s not pretend it was ever more than it really was. That doesn’t work for you? Unlike your soon-to-be ex-wife, I’ll take a check. Make that out to Drew M. Jagger, Attorney at Law. I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling slightly claustrophobic in the back of the Uber, and looked out the window. An old lady with a walker passed us. “I’ll get out here,” I barked at the driver. “But you have luggage?” I was already exiting the back of the car. “Pop the trunk. It’s not like we’re moving anyway.” Traffic was at a dead stop, and it was only two blocks to my building. Tossing a hundred-dollar tip at the driver, I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and took in a deep breath of Manhattan. I loved this city as much as I hated it. 575 Park Avenue was a restored pre-war on the southeast corner of Sixty-Third Street—it was an address that gave people preconceived notions about you. Someone with my last name had occupied the building since before the place was converted into overpriced co-ops. Which is why my office was allowed to remain on the ground floor when other commercial tenants were tossed out years ago. I also lived on the top floor. “Welcome back, Mr. Jagger.” The uniformed doorman greeted me as he swung open the lobby door. “Thanks, Ed. I miss anything while I was gone?” “Nah. Same old, same old. Peeked in on your construction the other day, though. Looking good.” “They use the service entrance down Sixty-Third like they were supposed to?” Ed nodded. “Sure did. Barely heard them the last few days.” I dropped my luggage inside my apartment, then headed back downstairs in the elevator to check things out. For the last two weeks, while I was screwing off in Honolulu, my office space had been getting a total renovation. Cracks in the high, plastered ceilings were to be patched and painted, and new floors installed to replace the old, worn parquet. Thick plastic remained taped over all of the interior doorways when I walked in. The little furniture I hadn’t put in storage was also still covered with tarps. Shit. They aren’t done yet. The contractor had assured me there would only be finish work left by the time I returned. I was right to be skeptical. Flicking on the lights, I was happy to find the lobby completely done, though. Finally, a New Year’s Eve with no horrible surprises for a change. I took a quick look around, pleased with what I found, and was just about to leave when I noticed a light streaming from under the door of a small file room at the end of the hallway. Thinking nothing of it, I headed to turn it off. Now, I’m six foot two and a half, two hundred and five pounds, and maybe it was just my frame of mind, my not expecting to see anyone, but when I opened the door to the file room, finding her there scared the living crap out of me. She screamed. I took a step back through the door. She got up, stood on the chair, and began yelling at me, waving her cell phone in the air. “I’ll call the police!” Her fingers shook as she dialed nine, then one, and hovered over the last one. “Get out now, and I won’t call!” I could have lunged for her, and the phone would have been out of her hand before she realized she hadn’t dialed the final digit. But she looked terrified, so I retreated another step and put my hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I used my best soothing, calm voice. “You don’t need to call the police. This is my office.” “Do I look stupid to you? You just broke into my office.” “Your office? I think you took a wrong turn at the corner of Crazy and Nutjob.” She wobbled atop the chair, holding both arms out to regain her balance, and then…her skirt fell to her feet. “Get out!” She crouched down and grabbed her skirt, tugging it up to her waist as she turned her back to me. “Do you take medication, ma’am?” “Medication? Ma’am? Are you joking?” “You know what?” I motioned to the phone she was still holding. “Why don’t you push that last one and get the police over here. They can drive you back to whatever loony bin you escaped from.” Her eyes widened. For a crazy person—now that I was really looking—she was pretty damn cute. Fiery red hair piled on top of her head seemed to match her firecracker personality. Although from the looks of her blazing blue eyes, I was glad I’d held off on telling her that. She pushed one and proceeded to report the crime of entering one’s own office. “I’d like to report a robbery.” “Robbery?” I arched an eyebrow and looked around. A lone folding chair and crappy metal folding table were the only furniture in the entire space. “What exactly am I stealing? Your winning personality?” She amended her complaint to the police. “A breaking and entering. I’d like to report a breaking and entering at 575 Park Avenue.” She paused and listened. “No, I don’t think he’s armed. But he’s big. Really big. At least six feet. Maybe bigger.” I smirked. “And strong. Don’t forget to tell them I’m strong, too. Want me to flex for you? And maybe you should tell them I have green eyes. Wouldn’t want the police to confuse me with all the other really big thieves hanging out in my office.” After she hung up, she stayed standing on the chair, still glaring at me. “Was there also a mouse?” I asked. “A mouse?” “Considering you jumped up on that chair.” I chuckled. “You find this funny?” “Oddly, I do. And I have no fucking idea why. It should annoy the crap out of me that I come home from a two-week vacation and find a squatter in my office.” “Squatter? I’m no squatter. This is my office. I moved in a week ago.” She bobbled again while standing on her chair. “Why don’t you get down? You’re going to fall off that thing and get hurt.” “How do I know you’re not going to hurt me when I get down?” I shook my head and contained my laugh. “Sweetheart, look at the size of me. Look at the size of you. Standing on that chair isn’t doing jack shit to keep you safe. If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be out cold on the floor already.” “I take Krav Maga classes twice a week.” “Twice a week? Really? Thanks for the warning.” “You don’t have to ridicule me. Maybe I could hurt you. For an intruder, you’re really kind of rude, you know.” “Get down.” After a full minute stare-off, she climbed off the chair. “See? You’re as safe on the ground as you were up there.” “What do you want from here?” “You didn’t call the police, did you? You almost had me there for a second.” “I didn’t. But I can.” “Now why would you go and do that? So they can arrest you for breaking and entering?” She pointed down at her makeshift desk. For the first time, I noticed papers all over the place. “I told you. This is my office. I’m working late tonight because the construction crew was so loud today that I couldn’t get done what I needed to. Why would anyone break and enter to work at ten-thirty at night on New Year’s Eve?” Construction crew? My construction crew? Something was going on here. “You were here with the construction crew today?” “Yes.” I scratched my chin, half believing her. “What’s the foreman’s name?” “Tommy.” Shit. She was telling the truth. Well, at least some of it had to be the truth. “You said you moved in a week ago?” “That’s right.” “And you rented the space from whom, exactly?” “John Cougar.” Both my brows shot up this time. “John Cougar? Did he drop the Mellencamp, by chance?” “How should I know?” This wasn’t sounding good. “And you paid this John Cougar?” “Of course. That’s how renting an office suite works. Two months’ security, first and last month’s rent.” I shut my eyes and shook my head. “Shit.” “What?” “You got conned. How much did all of that cost you? Two months’ security, first and last month? Four months in total?” “Ten thousand dollars.” “Please tell me you didn’t pay cash.” Something finally clicked, and the color drained from her pretty face. “He said his bank was closed in the evening, and he couldn’t give me the keys until my check cleared. If I gave him cash, I could move in right away.” “You paid John Cougar forty thousand dollars in cash?” “No!” “Thank God.” “I paid him ten thousand in cash.” “I thought you said you paid four months.” “I did. It was twenty-five hundred a month.” That did it. Of all the crazy shit I’d heard so far, thinking she could get space on Park Avenue for twenty-five hundred a month took the cake. I broke out in a fit of laughter. “What’s so funny?” “You’re not from New York, are you?” “No. I just moved here from Oklahoma. What does that have to do with anything?” I took a step closer. “I hate to break the news to you, Oklahoma, but you got ripped off. This is my office. I’ve been here for three years. My father the thirty before that. I was on vacation the last two weeks and had the office remodeled while I was gone. Someone named after a singer scammed you into giving him cash to rent an office he had no right to rent. Doorman’s name is Ed. Walk through the main building entrance, and he’ll verify everything I just said.” “That can’t be.” “What do you do that you need office space?” “I’m a psychologist.” I held out my hand. “I’m an attorney. Let me see your contract.” Her face fell. “He hasn’t brought it by yet. He said the landlord was in Brazil on vacation, and I could move in, and he would come back on the first to collect the rent and bring me the contract to sign.” “You’ve been scammed.” “But I paid him ten thousand dollars!” “Which is another thing that should have tipped you off. You couldn’t rent a closet on Park Avenue for twenty-five hundred a month. Didn’t you find it strange that you were getting a place like this for next to nothing?” “I thought I was getting a deal.” I shook my head. “You got a deal alright. A raw deal.” She covered her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”     ★★★★   We hope you enjoyed this extended preview!
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Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is an attorney and a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today Best Selling author. Over the last three years, eleven of her titles have appeared on the USA Today Bestseller lists and four on the New York Times Bestseller lists. In 2013, she released her first romance novel and never looked back. To date, she has thirteen novels released, with PLAYBOY PILOT also releasing in 2016. Her novels have appeared on #1 on Amazon and are currently being translated into German, Polish, Portuguese, Korean, Hebrew, French and Italian. Website | Facebook Fan Group | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

BLOG TOUR - Dear Life by Meghan Quinn

Dear Life by Meghan Quinn Publication Date: January 5th, 2017 Genre: Contemporary Romance
Four lives. Four stories. Four sets of letters. Four brave souls in need of guidance while facing life's greatest challenges.
The anonymously published Dear Life program is designed to help them step outside of their comfort zones, face their obstacles, and relinquish their demons...and prove their existence.
With their lives teetering between wanting more and losing it all, all four souls dive into the program as a New Year’s resolution, sending them on a crazy, life-altering journey.
Dear Life,
Please be kind.
Yours truly, Hollyn, Jace, Daisy, and Carter.
Add to Goodreads:
Purchase Links: Amazon US: Amazon UK:
About the Author:
A BLONDE AT HEART Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped. Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking. Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Connect with Meghan:

RELEASE BLITZ / Giveaway - Set Me Free by M.R. Leahy @AuthorMRLeahy

Title: Set Me Free
Series: Free #1
Author: M.R. Leahy
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: January 9, 2017


Set Me Free is a dark romance
I do not advise anyone who is sensitive to certain subjects or sexual situations to read it as it does contain certain situations.

Set Me Free 

Torn and betrayed by her family, Emmalyn is taken and forced to live with her mother and stepfather, who happens to be the leader of one of the biggest sex trafficking rings around.

Thrown into a world of sex and slavery, Emmalyn is roomed with Kodah. A hot-headed boy, whose only weakness is her.

Both lost and tortured in this endless hell, they cling to the hope that one day they will make it out, that one day they will be set free.

Purchase Links

UK / CA / AU


Copyright to M.R. Leahy 2016
(Subject to Change)

I know I shouldn’t feel this comfortable in a stranger’s arms, but for some reason, I can’t help it. He looks at me like I hold the light to his darkness, like I’m a treasure.
Lying my head back down on the pillow, we continue to stare at each other, his hands running up and down my back in soothing motions. I’m not sure how long we stayed like that before he finally spoke, his voice breaking the silence for the first time.
“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice soft, barely above a whisper
“Emmalyn.” The way he whispers my name sends shivers across my body
“What’s your name?” I ask, my voice small and shy
Silence follows as we lie there. I think he has fallen asleep when his hand caresses my face. Opening his mouth, Kodah says the very thing to give me hope, to give me a fighting chance, and steals my heart while sealing our fate. “I’m going to get us out of here, Emmy, and when I do, I’m going to keep you.”

Author Bio

M.R. Leahy was born in Amarillo, TX, where she was briefly raised before moving to a small Island in the middle of the Puget Sound called Whidbey Island. Growing up she lived with her mom and younger sister and a few cousins scattered close by.

As soon as she could, M.R. Leahy left the small island to get a feel for what the world had in store. After jumping around a few places, she landed in beautiful Wilmington, NC where she not only met the love of her life but became pregnant with her first child. Not long after finding out about the life they created they married and moved to San Diego, CA so they could be closer to family and start the beginning to their forever.

M.R. Leahy now has two beautiful boys and is living life to the fullest, not taking anything for granted. She now spends her time being a stay at home mom. When she's not making lunches and kissing booboos, you can find her nose deep in a book getting lost in the many different worlds authors provide, or writing and creating different stories of her own.

M.R. Leahy writes dark romances but also has her hands in contemporary romance and romantic comedy. Her possibilities are endless.

Author Links

Cover Reveal - Freddie (The Essiens #6) by Kiru Taye + Giveaway

Title: Freddie
Series: The Essiens #6
Author: Kiru Taye
Genre: Adult, Erotic Romance
Coming: April 1, 2017
Violence marked Freddie Edun's early years. Coming to work for the Essiens saved him from the angry young man he was and gave him focus. Now he's walking the path of success and partnership in Banks Security business is within reach. He just has to seal this deal with a potential client first. Until he meets the client's wife and the deal becomes at risk of taking a nose dive.

Kike Ogun married young to a man who dazzled her with his bogus charm. She’s lived like a caged bird for many years but with a looming milestone birthday on the horizon she is determined to walk a new path of self-love. If she could just ignore the electrifying and forbidden attraction she feels towards a younger man from the first moment they meet.

With a devious ex who refuses to let go, she’s going to need help—Freddie’s protection—to stay alive long enough to celebrate her upcoming birthday. And she’s going to have to give in to her dark passion for him and finally unleash the natural woman inside. If it's only sex, then what's love got to do it?

Freddie Excerpt © Kiru Taye 2017

“Kike, wait.”
She didn’t.
He blocked her path.
“Move out of my way,” her voice came out halting, and her head bowed. She swiped a hand across her cheeks.
Was she crying?
“Kike, please. Look at me.”
She sucked in a deep breath and lifted her head. Beautiful long dark lashes and black kohl framed almond-shaped eyes tinged with red.
Shit. She’d been crying.
He settled his hands on her shoulders.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what he was apologising for, except that something told him he’d upset her.
“Why the hell are you sorry?”
He shrugged. “I don’t like to see you upset.”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about. I shouldn’t have come here. It was a mistake.”
“No. It wasn’t. You want to be here, and I want you to be here.” What was he saying? Her coming here wasn’t a good thing unless she’d come to speak to him about the security job. But the look in her eyes told him that wasn’t the reason she’d come.
“No, you don’t. You have a girlfriend. She’s upstairs waiting for you.” She gave a heavy sigh as her shoulders slumped.
A twist in his gut indicated he needed to correct her assumption. It shouldn’t matter in the scheme of things. He wanted her to know the truth about him. “Bukky is not my girlfriend.”
Her eyes went wide. Then they flashed fury as her hands balled into fists. “Don’t you dare lie to me.”
She raised her arms, shaking his hands off her shoulders. “I caught you with her, remember?”
He raised his palms to placate her. “Hey, listen to me. Yes, Bukky and I fuck each other. But she’s not my girlfriend. Come upstairs. I’ll send her home.”

Kiru is the award winning author of His Treasure. She writes sensual and passionate multicultural romance stories set mostly in Africa. When she's not writing you can find her either immersed in a good book or catching up with friends and family. She currently lives in the South of England with her husband and three children.

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