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#ReleaseBoost ~ “Sour Grapes” Series: Blue Plate #2 Author: Rachel Goodman Genre: Light Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit is Available Now! ~ @MojitoMaven @GiveMeBooksPR

 

 

Title: Sour Grapes
Series: Blue Plate #2
Author: Rachel Goodman
Genre: Light Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit

Release Date: June 5, 2020

 

Blurb
Uncork this delectable Texas Hill Country romance from the critically
acclaimed author of From Scratch, the “smart, sexy, and funny” debut that
“piles on the Southern charm” (Publishers Weekly).
Margaret Stokes is bitter. And not in the robust fine wine or tangy dark
chocolate kind of way. She just got dumped, is fed up with her job as a
glorified party-planner for the rich, and can’t possibly listen to one more
veiled insult from her impossible-to-please mother. So she retreats to the
comfort of her grandmother’s ramshackle bed and breakfast in Texas wine
country, where the wide open vineyards are filled with surprises, from the
shockingly delicious Tempranillo to the aggravating yet oh-so-tempting man who
makes it.

Ryan Camden’s easy approach to life encourages Margaret to loosen up and have a
little fun, despite her better judgment. She resists the urge to micromanage
every detail, embracing the welcome distractions of her surroundings and
letting their relationship unfold at a natural rhythm. But when a health scare
forces Grammy J to give up the B&B, Margaret begins to wonder if Ryan
really is the man he promises—and whether the problems she tried so hard to
escape ever really went away.

 

 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt
The night
has taken on a dreamy quality, and it feels as if I’m buzzing in a sort of
tipsy state that has nothing to do with the wine I’ve consumed and everything
to do with my renewed sense of confidence.
Ryan is
staring at me with an expression I can’t quite read. It’s part contemplative,
part desire, part something else. I wait for him to speak, but he remains
quiet.
As I start
moving toward his SUV, he grabs my hand and draws me around to face him. We’re
standing so close I can smell the remnants of his aftershave and feel his
breath on my forehead. Ryan brushes an errant strand of hair away from my
cheek, his callused thumb ghosting over the sensitive spot below my ear. I
swallow, my chest tight, as though there isn’t enough space for my heart to fit
inside my rib cage.
Ryan slides
his hand around to cradle the back of my head, while the other travels down and
settles on the curve of my hip. “If I kiss you again, is there going to be
a jail cell on the other end of it?”
“Only
one way to find out,” I say with a breathless laugh.
He pulls me
flush against him, and then his lips are on mine. An electric jolt shoots
through me as the pressure of his mouth changes from tender and coaxing to
needy and demanding.
And I’m
right there with him, matching everything he’s giving. My palms skate over his
broad shoulders and arms, his shirtsleeves stretched over the hard muscle
beneath. He tastes like the chocolate cake we shared for dessert. Like
something I could eat every day for the rest of my life.
I weave my
fingers into the soft hair that curls slightly at the nape of his neck, tugging
gently at the roots. Ryan lets out a sexy grunt that I want to hear over and
over again. He lifts me off the ground, and I hook my legs around his waist. He
steps backward until I’m pressed against his car. With the dark surrounding us,
it feels as if we can do anything and not get caught. A rush of heat shoots
through me at the idea. I reach for the buttons on his—
Sudden loud
barking makes us jump apart, our chests heaving.
I sway a
bit before regaining my balance. I glance at Ryan, who looks as disoriented as
I feel. Sticking her head out the open window, Bordeaux paws at the inner door
handle. Ryan pushes on her nose and mutters what sounds like, “Great
timing.” Snorting, Bordeaux ducks back inside and drinks from the water
bowl on the floor mat. Ryan turns to me, rubbing a frustrated hand down his
face. “She’s a resource guarder, and I’m her favorite toy.”
I let out a
shaky laugh, my whole body vibrating with pent-up energy. “Or maybe she’s
warning us that we’re about to have an audience,” I say, gesturing to the
hostesses emerging from the side entrance of the restaurant. They walk around
the building to the service lot.
Ryan’s
expression morphs from slightly irritated to focused and determined. He leans
in close to me, his lips grazing the hint of collarbone peeking out from
beneath my shirt. Air catches in my lungs and my skin prickles, but I force
myself not to fidget, not to move for fear I may collapse right here on the
gravel. Skimming his mouth up my neck, his breath stirring wisps of my hair, he
whispers in my ear, “What happened to living recklessly?”
My brain is
a fog, so I only manage to blurt, “Show me.”
A
devastatingly wicked grin spreads across his face. “Follow me.”
Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Rachel
Goodman is the critically acclaimed author of the Blue Plate and How to Score
series. She was raised in Colorado on Roald Dahl books and her mother’s
award-worthy cooking. Now an engineering professor at her alma mater, Southern
Methodist University in Dallas, Texas, she has not lost her passion for
culinary discovery or a well-told story. A member of RWA, she continues to hone
her craft through the Writer’s Path at SMU while seeking to create the perfect
macaroni and cheese recipe. Follow her on Twitter (@mojitomaven), Instagram
(@mojitomaven), and Facebook (@RachelGoodmanBooks), or visit her website at
rachelgoodmanbooks.com.
Author Links

 

#Release Blitz ~ “Sour Grapes” Series: Blue Plate #2, by Author Rachel Goodman, Genre: Light Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit is Available Now! ~ @MojitoMaven @GiveMeBooksPR

 

 

Title: Sour Grapes
Series: Blue Plate #2
Author: Rachel Goodman
Genre: Light Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit

Release Date: June 5, 2020

 

Blurb
Uncork this delectable Texas Hill Country romance from the critically
acclaimed author of From Scratch, the “smart, sexy, and funny” debut that
“piles on the Southern charm” (Publishers Weekly).
Margaret Stokes is bitter. And not in the robust fine wine or tangy dark
chocolate kind of way. She just got dumped, is fed up with her job as a
glorified party-planner for the rich, and can’t possibly listen to one more
veiled insult from her impossible-to-please mother. So she retreats to the
comfort of her grandmother’s ramshackle bed and breakfast in Texas wine
country, where the wide open vineyards are filled with surprises, from the
shockingly delicious Tempranillo to the aggravating yet oh-so-tempting man who
makes it.

Ryan Camden’s easy approach to life encourages Margaret to loosen up and have a
little fun, despite her better judgment. She resists the urge to micromanage
every detail, embracing the welcome distractions of her surroundings and
letting their relationship unfold at a natural rhythm. But when a health scare
forces Grammy J to give up the B&B, Margaret begins to wonder if Ryan
really is the man he promises—and whether the problems she tried so hard to
escape ever really went away.

 

 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt
The night
has taken on a dreamy quality, and it feels as if I’m buzzing in a sort of
tipsy state that has nothing to do with the wine I’ve consumed and everything
to do with my renewed sense of confidence.
Ryan is
staring at me with an expression I can’t quite read. It’s part contemplative,
part desire, part something else. I wait for him to speak, but he remains
quiet.
As I start
moving toward his SUV, he grabs my hand and draws me around to face him. We’re
standing so close I can smell the remnants of his aftershave and feel his
breath on my forehead. Ryan brushes an errant strand of hair away from my
cheek, his callused thumb ghosting over the sensitive spot below my ear. I
swallow, my chest tight, as though there isn’t enough space for my heart to fit
inside my rib cage.
Ryan slides
his hand around to cradle the back of my head, while the other travels down and
settles on the curve of my hip. “If I kiss you again, is there going to be
a jail cell on the other end of it?”
“Only
one way to find out,” I say with a breathless laugh.
He pulls me
flush against him, and then his lips are on mine. An electric jolt shoots
through me as the pressure of his mouth changes from tender and coaxing to
needy and demanding.
And I’m
right there with him, matching everything he’s giving. My palms skate over his
broad shoulders and arms, his shirtsleeves stretched over the hard muscle
beneath. He tastes like the chocolate cake we shared for dessert. Like
something I could eat every day for the rest of my life.
I weave my
fingers into the soft hair that curls slightly at the nape of his neck, tugging
gently at the roots. Ryan lets out a sexy grunt that I want to hear over and
over again. He lifts me off the ground, and I hook my legs around his waist. He
steps backward until I’m pressed against his car. With the dark surrounding us,
it feels as if we can do anything and not get caught. A rush of heat shoots
through me at the idea. I reach for the buttons on his—
Sudden loud
barking makes us jump apart, our chests heaving.
I sway a
bit before regaining my balance. I glance at Ryan, who looks as disoriented as
I feel. Sticking her head out the open window, Bordeaux paws at the inner door
handle. Ryan pushes on her nose and mutters what sounds like, “Great
timing.” Snorting, Bordeaux ducks back inside and drinks from the water
bowl on the floor mat. Ryan turns to me, rubbing a frustrated hand down his
face. “She’s a resource guarder, and I’m her favorite toy.”
I let out a
shaky laugh, my whole body vibrating with pent-up energy. “Or maybe she’s
warning us that we’re about to have an audience,” I say, gesturing to the
hostesses emerging from the side entrance of the restaurant. They walk around
the building to the service lot.
Ryan’s
expression morphs from slightly irritated to focused and determined. He leans
in close to me, his lips grazing the hint of collarbone peeking out from
beneath my shirt. Air catches in my lungs and my skin prickles, but I force
myself not to fidget, not to move for fear I may collapse right here on the
gravel. Skimming his mouth up my neck, his breath stirring wisps of my hair, he
whispers in my ear, “What happened to living recklessly?”
My brain is
a fog, so I only manage to blurt, “Show me.”
A
devastatingly wicked grin spreads across his face. “Follow me.”
Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Rachel
Goodman is the critically acclaimed author of the Blue Plate and How to Score
series. She was raised in Colorado on Roald Dahl books and her mother’s
award-worthy cooking. Now an engineering professor at her alma mater, Southern
Methodist University in Dallas, Texas, she has not lost her passion for
culinary discovery or a well-told story. A member of RWA, she continues to hone
her craft through the Writer’s Path at SMU while seeking to create the perfect
macaroni and cheese recipe. Follow her on Twitter (@mojitomaven), Instagram
(@mojitomaven), and Facebook (@RachelGoodmanBooks), or visit her website at
rachelgoodmanbooks.com.
Author Links

 

Recently Released! ~ “From Scratch” Series: Blue Plate #1, by Author Rachel Goodman, Genre: Light Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit, is Available NOW! #ReleaseBoost

 

Title: From Scratch
Series: Blue Plate #1
Author: Rachel Goodman
Genre: Light Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit

Release Date: May 1, 2020

 

Blurb
A
down-home, feel-good debut Southern romance, From Scratch explores one woman’s
journey back home to Dallas, Texas, where her family is cooking up a plan that
doesn’t quite suit her tastes…
Thirty-year-old Lillie Turner grew up with maple syrup stuck to her skin and
bacon grease splattered on her clothes, courtesy of working in the family
diner. Thank goodness she escaped all that when she moved to Chicago five years
ago. Now a successful strategy consultant and newly engaged to a man who
complements her like biscuits and gravy, she has everything she wants.

When an urgent phone call about her father’s health pulls Lillie back to
Dallas, she soon learns it was a ruse to bring her home so she can run the
diner she’d rather avoid and compete in the Upper Crust, an annual baking
competition, with no option to withdraw. Lillie is furious and ready to run
back to Chicago, but her father’s haggard appearance makes her wonder if he’s
hiding something. Things go from bad to worse when Nick, her handsome ex and
the only man she ever truly loved, reappears, looking as scrumptious as ever.

Lillie’s trip home forces her to question the path she’s chosen, find her place
in the family she abandoned, and wonder if the life she left behind is what she
really wants after all.

 

 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt
“Move
around,” Nick says. “It’ll help flush out the lactic acid in your
system.”
I nod, too
exhausted to reply, and walk back and forth with my fingers linked behind my
head. A breeze washes over my face, cooling me, but still my lungs are
screaming. I can’t seem to suck in enough air.
Nick
strides over to me. “You want your breathing to come from deep in your
diaphragm. Right here,” he says, placing one hand on the curve of my back
and the other just below my rib cage, applying pressure. “Can you feel
that?” His gaze rakes over my face, painfully slow, as though he’s afraid
to miss something.
Is he
kidding? His palms are burning holes in my shirt, making me dizzy, and he wants
to know if I can feel that? Suddenly I go from barely being able to retain
oxygen in my lungs to a total inability to breathe at all. I should be shocked
that after all this time a simple touch from him has the power to steal my
breath, but after what happened between us at the Tipsy Teakettle, nothing
surprises me anymore.
Stepping
away, I pick up the water bottle lying on the ground by his feet and gulp some
down, the liquid sloshing around in my stomach.
“Drink
it slowly. Otherwise you’ll throw up,” he says, tugging on my ponytail. My
heart trips in my chest at the way his voice dips with his playful scolding.
Sticking out my tongue, I squirt some water at him and stretch my aching
muscles. Nick does his own form of post run recovery, which involves some
strange yoga poses mixed with light strength exercises. I squeeze my eyes shut
when I hear him groan, the sound similar to those he once murmured during sex.
After he’s
done, he uses the hem of his T-shirt to wipe his neck and forehead. His chest
expands and retracts with his breathing, his skin glistening. I swallow
thickly, watching a bead of sweat travel down the length of his torso and
absorb into his mesh shorts. Everything about Nick is corded muscle and hard,
chiseled angles and lines. My eyes drop to his hands resting on his hips, and I
have an overwhelming urge to feel them on me. My whole body clenches as I
remember exactly what those fingers are capable of.
A dog
barks, snapping me out of my haze. I focus on the college-age guy playing fetch
with a golden retriever across the park and wait for my heart rate to return to
normal.
“It’s
okay, you know.”
“What
is?” I ask.
“To
check me out,” Nick says, smug and without shame. “Don’t think I
didn’t notice your little eye dance.”
I balk.
“I wasn’t checking you out. You were doing those weird poses, and I was
curious.”
He laughs,
deep and sexy, erasing all of my common sense. His soles scuff against the
gravel as he saunters toward me. He stops and stands so close I can feel the
heat radiating off his body and see the faint scar above his left eyebrow—a
casualty from back in my diner days when I accidentally opened the freezer door
into his face.
When he
speaks, his words send a shiver down my spine. “You forget, Lillie, I know
your blush.”
My breath
hitches, and his smile grows into that destructive grin that’s always been
deadly to me. I force my eyes away, over to the other side of the parking lot
where a woman is adjusting a set of ankle weights, back to the guy still
tossing a tennis ball with his dog, down at my grungy shoelaces, anywhere other
than at him.
“At
least I used to,” Nick says, low and hoarse. “Before . . .”
He settles
a hand on the crook of my neck, his thumb ghosting along my collarbone, and
everything inside me ignites, alive and volatile. I look at him, and the
intensity in his stare causes a fresh wave of heat to rush through me. I lean
toward him, pulled by invisible fingers. His gaze flicks to my mouth, and as if
on their own volition, my lips part. My breath comes in shallow gasps, my body
humming in anticipation, waiting for him to pin me against my truck and kiss me
the way he did at the Tipsy Teakettle. The way he used to.
Coming Soon
Releasing June 5
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Author Bio
Rachel
Goodman is the critically acclaimed author of the Blue Plate and How to Score
series. She was raised in Colorado on Roald Dahl books and her mother’s
award-worthy cooking. Now an engineering professor at her alma mater, Southern
Methodist University in Dallas, Texas, she has not lost her passion for
culinary discovery or a well-told story. A member of RWA, she continues to hone
her craft through the Writer’s Path at SMU while seeking to create the perfect
macaroni and cheese recipe. Follow her on Twitter (@mojitomaven), Instagram
(@mojitomaven), and Facebook (@RachelGoodmanBooks), or visit her website at
rachelgoodmanbooks.com.
Author Links

 

“First and Always” Series: The Forever Duet #1, by Author Rebecca Brooke, Genre: Women’s Fiction/Romance is Available NOW! #ReleaseBlitz #NewRelease

 

Title: First and Always
Series: The Forever Duet #1
Author: Rebecca Brooke
Genre: Women’s Fiction/Romance
Release Date: April 16, 2020
Blurb
Everything seemed to have fallen in place for Aiden Cormack.
As the lead singer of Violet Obsession, he spent his days living his dream. At
night he went home to the love of his life, his fiancé, Christine. It had been
a long and difficult road on the way to the altar, with regret that almost
destroyed them. But Aiden wanted to put the past behind him and couldn’t wait
to see Christine walk down the aisle to him. 
Christine takes him by surprise a few months after their
wedding. She wants to try for another baby, but Aiden’s not sure he’s ready to
face the fear of what ifs again. 
The pieces of his life that had been held together so
strongly, start to break apart. As Aiden tries to hold them together, the task
proves impossible. Now, he’s buried under the mountain of what was his perfect
life and he’s not sure if he actually wants to come to the surface or let it
all take him under.  
Purchase Links
$2.99 for a limited time!
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”
Christine turned her head and squinted in the light.
“Well, hello there, my big fancy rock star.”
I ran a hand through my hair, which was probably sticking up
in a million different directions already. “Nope.”
She laid the open book on her legs. “No, then who are you?”
I smirked. “For the next two weeks, the only thing I am is
your husband.”
“Not my rock star husband?”
“Only if you want me to be.”
“I think I prefer my husband this week.”
I brushed a piece of hair from her face. “What are you doing
up so early?”
“You know I can’t sleep when the sun hits my eyes.” She
moved to sit on the side of the hammock, her legs hanging over the side.
“Besides, who want to miss the beautiful weather here by staying inside all
day?”
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to the side of her
neck. “I can think of a few reasons to stay inside.”
“Mmm…you can, can’t you?”
“Yep.” I kissed my way up to behind her ear, loving the way
her body trembled under mine. “Many reasons and none of them include sand in
places that never see the sun.”
Coming Soon
Releasing May 14
$2.99 for a limited time!
Only available at the following retailers
for a very limited time
Author Bio
Rebecca Brooke is the author of the Jaded Ivory and Traded Series. She
grew up in the shore towns of South Jersey. She loves to hit the beach, but
always with her Kindle on hand. She is married to the most wonderful man who
puts up with all her craziness. Together they have two beautiful children who
keep her on her toes. When she isn’t writing or reading (which is very rarely)
she loves to bake and binge watch Netflix.
Author Links

 

Release Blitz: Shattered Dreams by Rebecca Barber, Genre: Women’s Fiction is Available Now!

 

 

Title: Shattered Dreams
Author: Rebecca Barber
Genre: Women’s Fiction
Release Date: November 10, 2019
Blurb
They say first comes love.
Second comes marriage.
Third comes…
What happens when the third doesn’t come?
The day I married the love of my life I was certain it would
be forever, right up until it wasn’t.
Now I’m sitting on a plane running away from everything
that’s gone wrong in my life.
When it comes to love, nothing is simple… not even a
happily ever after. 

 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Rebecca is a clumsy, introverted, bubble bath loving,
chocoholic who’d rather read a book than go shopping. And don’t even mention
shoe shopping!
Rebecca is a lucky girl – one of four kids to school teacher parents. Wife to a
football obsessed husband. Mother to a fur-baby who has no idea how big he is.
Aunt to the most crazy/adorable little girls. And sister to two very determined
sisters and one easy going brother.

Rebecca lives in Canberra Australia and spends way too many hours a day working
the day job.

She is a book whore who can easily (and happily) read a book from start to
finish in one sitting and spends her spare time writing.  

 

Release Blitz: Changing Dreams (Bear Lake Dreamers #1) by Kirsten Osbourne, Genre: Women’s Fiction, is Available Now!

 

 

Title: Changing Dreams
Series: Bear Lake Dreamers #1
Author: Kirsten Osbourne
Genre: Women’s Fiction

Release Date: August 2, 2019

 

Blurb
Alyssa Romriell’s life is spiraling out of control. Her real
estate career is going well, but her love life is a nightmare. Something needs
to change—but what? After the death of her parents, she and her sisters decide
to convert the lake house—a place filled with so many cherished childhood
memories—into a bed and breakfast. Her new home is torn up, and she needs to
get re-licensed in her new state, but as she becomes reacquainted with the town
and all the people there, her dreams shift. With her sisters at her side, she
forges her way into a new enterprise, rediscovering the woman she’d lost all
those years ago—and finds love in the most unexpected place. Come and visit the
Romriell sisters at Bear Lake and see how their beautiful B&B becomes the
heart of their family.

 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Author Bio
KIRSTEN OSBOURNE hails from the state of Wisconsin, but
has lived in Texas for almost thirty years. She is a mother, a writer, and a
wife. Married to the love of her life for over fifteen years, she knows that
true love exists and wants to share her vision of love with the world. Writing
is something she has always loved and plans on doing for a long time into the
future. Kirsten Osbourne writes contemporary romance as well as historical. She
invites you to join her in her world of fantasy and make believe where there is
always a happily ever after at the end.

 

Author Links

 

Release Boost: All For You (Beautiful You #1) by Belle Brooks, Women’s Fiction is Available Now!

 

Title: All for You

Series: Beautiful You #1

Author: Belle Brooks
Genre: Women’s Fiction

Release Date: July 28, 2019

Blurb
“I will breathe for you.”
Some
people’s bodies are built to run marathons. Others to lift and labour. And some
are made so graceful their footsteps are barely heard.

My body was built to be a vessel. It was always built for you. 

Maybelline Connors knows stars are not always as faultless as they appear.
She knows life is not permanently concreted into its foundations, and love can
last a lifetime … even when a lifetime is shorter than one hoped.

May has
only one thing left to fight for: her baby. And when the man you love’s heart
is breaking, it can be hard to find the beauty in those stars you once adored.
With life
there is love … and with love there will always be life.

 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt
There is no breeze when my stiletto hits the footpath. The air is stale and lifeless. Like me. I slip each foot out of my shoes and hang them from my fingertips. The path is scorching against the flesh of my soles. I’m not sure why I do it—it could be because the path is far too hot for my skin to bear, or it could be because this is a natural act for me, but I run. I run flat out. Running has always alleviated my tension—it’s probably why I started training for this stupid half-marathon in the first place. My handbag slaps at my sides as my feet pound against the tar. Running usually supplies contentment in my life, but right now I feel numb. There is no contentment—no nothing. Maybe if I run far enough away then I won’t have cancer anymore.


 

 

Darting in front of a car, I inhale harshly as I wave my apologies before entering a children’s playground on the opposite corner to the medical centre. Children swing freely. The sound of innocent laughter fills the air. The green grass instantly cushions my boiling feet. I stare at its brilliant colouration when my head drops and my hands grasp my knees.

 

“It’s okay. Breathe,” I tell myself, trying to slow each breath.
Without warning the grass slowly fades to a haunting grey. I flick my head upwards and my body follows suit. The swings bearing the weight of small children suddenly morph into aged tombstones. This once beautiful playground becomes ugly, as I see only an eerie cemetery. I try to escape the sudden changes, and step forward. My lungs seize, causing me to cough hard, and I gasp. I attempt to inhale air, but it’s not entering my body like it should. A stampeding herd pummels my chest, buckling my torso over, folding me in half once more.
“Breathe, May,” I whisper, right before my legs give way. I fall heavily upon my knees as salty tears flow steadily from my disbelieving eyes. Finally, I draw a needy mouthful of air only to release it again in an injured howl.
Please don’t take my life.

 

Author Bio
Belle Brooks is the International bestselling author of eight
novels and multiple novellas. She lives out in the country of Queensland with
her incredibly tolerant and crazy family. She writes contemporary romance,
romantic comedy and contemporary women’s fiction ranging from young adult to
adult audiences. She also writes crime and psychological thrillers.
Author Links
FACEBOOK 

 

Available Now! ~ The Favored Wife by AmyPennza, #ContemporaryRomanceWomensfiction

 

Title: The Favored Wife
Author: Amy Pennza
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction
Release Date: July 22, 2019
Cover Design: Arijana Karcic, Cover It! Designs
Is it possible to escape polygamy? Find true love? Well-behaved women don’t ask these questions. Not in my world.
 
My name is Elizabeth Hyde. Actually, no. It’s Grant. In the real world, I’m Elizabeth Grant.
My husband’s name is Hyde, and he has three other wives. No one can know that. Obviously.
In the strict religious community I was born into, women have clearly defined roles. They’re homemakers and caregivers. They rear children. But I don’t have any children, which means I have something of a ticket to the outside. Big families need money, and it’s time for me to get a job.
And I’m loving this job. Being a medical assistant might not sound impressive to most people, but it’s a lot more exciting than making dinner for a family of twenty.
I have to admit, the job isn’t the only thing that excites me.
Lately, I’ve been getting close to Evan Adgate, the doctor who runs the medical center. He’s my opposite in every way: funny, smart, wealthy, educated. It’s no wonder the man turns heads. Heaven help me, he turns mine.
But Evan and I can never be together. We can never be anything. No matter how many talks or dinners we have, my secrets will always be a barrier between us. It’s better if we keep things professional.
Now I just have to keep telling myself that.

“Holy smokes. I devoured this book in no time. I have never read a book anything like this before. I was captivated from the beginning.” – Amber, Goodreads reviewer

 

“This book will blow you away! It is an emotional rollercoaster that will have you wondering how conditions like that could take place without someone putting an end to it!” – Merry, Goodreads reviewer

 

“I was looking for something a bit different from my normal romance reads. What a surprising gift this was.” – Within Paper Sheets

 

“Wow oh wow. This book will blow you away, this book will keep you reading until the end, there will be no break..” – I Don’t Get Sundays, Amazon reviewer

Leah caught up to me as I pulled open the door of the truck.
“Elizabeth, wait!”
I threw my purse inside and turned. “What is it?”
Her caramel-colored eyes were pained when she said, “Don’t pay any attention to Dinah, okay?”
I looked back at the house, imagining Dinah glowering at me from her kitchen window. She was probably mad about the breakfast dishes. Normally, that was one of my jobs.
Leah was waiting for a response, so I forced a shrug. “I’m used to it.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Don’t let those two get to you.” She lowered her voice. “I think she’s going through the change. It’s probably why she keeps bringing the baby thing up.”
I almost laughed out loud. The way Leah said the change made it sound like Dinah had developed bubonic plague. On impulse, I hugged her. “It’s okay, Leah. I promise it doesn’t bother me. Maybe it used to, but not anymore.”
She pulled back, doubt in her face. “Are you sure?”
“Totally sure.” I released her, then climbed in the truck—something that was way easier in pants. Through the windshield, I saw Jackson walking over from Patty’s house. “That’s my ride,” I told Leah.
“Okay. Well, good luck today.” She closed the door, then put her chin against the bottom of the open window. “Just remember, anything is possible with Heavenly Father on your side. Sarah was ninety when she conceived Isaac.”
I gave her a solemn nod. It was a nice Bible story, but something told me Thomas wasn’t willing to wait that long.
But Leah’s expression was so sincere, I forced a smile and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She returned the smile, then backed away from the truck and started for her house, waving to Jackson as she went.
He climbed in the cab and slammed the door. “You ready?”
“Yes. What have you been doing?” I leaned away from him. He had huge sweat stains under his armpits, and his face was streaked with dirt.
He swiped an arm across his forehead, then stared down at his plaid shirt sleeve. “Dad had me pouring concrete at four this morning.” He drew himself up and said in a low, measured voice, “Nothing builds character like manning a pump hose, son.”
“I hate to break it to you, but that’s just his way of getting cheap labor.”
Jackson slanted me a skeptical look as he started the truck. “You mean free labor.”
I just shook my head. That definitely sounded like Thomas. He owned one of the most successful construction companies in Jefferson City, and the secret to his success was that he employed mostly family members. Dinah ran the office from home and handled everything from payroll to zoning permits. Leah helped with accounts receivable and general bookkeeping tasks. At some point, all the boys in the family had worked various jobs—for little or no pay.
“So how’d you talk him into letting you take this job, anyway?” Jackson asked as we drove down the long gravel driveway away from the houses.
“It was Dinah’s idea. She said times are tight, so it made sense for me to work.” What she really said was that it made sense for me to work since I didn’t have any children to care for, and that I should at least cover my room and board so I wasn’t a burden on the family.
Jackson didn’t need to know that, though. It was too embarrassing.
He turned the truck onto the main road leading out of town. We passed a few groups of boys walking along the sidewalk, probably on their way to work detail.
Jackson drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “It doesn’t add up,” he said suddenly.
I looked at him. “What doesn’t?”
“What Dinah said about times being tight. I’ve seen what Dad makes, and there is no way he’s hurting for money.”
“Well, he has to tithe. A lot of it goes to the faith.”
He shrugged. “I guess. Not that they’re doing anything productive with it,” he said, nodding to the old school building. At one time, the town had operated a small public school, but the state shut it down after some sort of audit claimed too many kids were being passed through grades despite missing months of school at a time. Families had gone back to homeschooling, and the building had fallen into disrepair.
We passed the town center with its small grocery store and town hall. Jackson slowed the truck to a crawl, glanced left and right, then rolled through a stop sign without stopping.
“Hey!” I exclaimed.
He glanced at me. “Do you want to be late on your first day? Besides, that’s Theron and Bragg.” He jutted his chin toward a white extended-cab truck idling near the intersection.
I squinted at the truck’s dark windows but could only make out two shadowy figures in the front seat. “Since when are they working security?”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Since they went crying to their mom about being given shitty jobs. Now they’re living the dream.”
I wanted to scold him for swearing, but I heard the pain and confusion under his bravado. It was an open secret in the family that Thomas favored Dinah’s children over all the others—a situation that had only grown worse since her oldest son, Thomas’s namesake, had been excommunicated and forced out of the community. The night he left was the only time I ever heard Dinah raise her voice to Thomas. She’d begged and pleaded with him to intercede on their son’s behalf, but he stalked from the house and slammed the door, leaving her sobbing on the kitchen floor.
Thinking to comfort her, I’d crept downstairs and placed my hand on her shoulder, only to jump back when she jerked away.
“I don’t need pity from you,” she spat.
“It’s not pity, Dinah. I just—”
“What? Come to gloat?” She glared at me with such malice, I stumbled back a step.
Then she stood and smoothed her skirt. She squared her shoulders, the broken, weeping woman of seconds before replaced by the cool, dominant head wife. “Go back upstairs,” she said. When I turned to go, she added, “And remember, he might want you in his bed, but I’ve borne his children.”
The white truck grew smaller in my side mirror as we drove out of town.
Jackson gripped the steering wheel with tight fingers. I didn’t blame him for being jealous. His half-brothers were driving around in air-conditioned comfort, enjoying power and prestige, while he toiled at construction sites and ferried his father’s wives around.
“Thanks, by the way,” I said.
He looked at me. “For what?”
“For driving me into the city.” I dug in my purse and pulled out my driver’s license. “Even though I’m official now.”
“No kidding?” He leaned over so he could see the picture. “You need that for work or something?” When I nodded, he said, “You gonna start driving yourself into the city now?”
I sighed and tossed the license back into my purse. “I doubt it. Thomas said it’s a waste of resources to leave a car in the city all day.”
“Yeah, I guess. So what will you be doing, taking care of cats or something?” He cast a pointed look at my scrub top.
“Very funny.” I reached over and gave him a playful punch on the arm. “It’s an urgent care center. Like a mini emergency room and doctor’s office all in one. They do drug screenings for employers, too, so I might help with administering those sorts of tests.”
“Sounds cool, Liz.”
I smiled. He was the only one who ever called me that. He’d been just ten when I married Thomas. Back then, my main job had been helping Patty, who homeschooled all the children. She’d been pregnant with her youngest at the time, so I took over her teaching role in that first year. Jackson had Patty’s dark eyes and hair, but he was nothing like her in temperament. He was a jokester and something of a troublemaker, but he was so kind and lovable it was hard to get mad at him.
We drove in companionable silence for a few minutes, then he asked, “Want some music?”
“Sure.”
He turned the radio on, filling the cab with Taylor Swift’s “I Knew You Were Trouble.”
He nodded his head to the beat for a second, then glanced at me. “I can change it if you want.”
“It’s okay.”
He shrugged. “Well . . . if you like it.”
I hid a smile. “I don’t mind it.”
“Then I don’t, either.” He gave me a knowing look, a little grin tugging at his mouth.
I lost the battle with my smile and let out a laugh.

 

After a second, he joined in.
Amy Pennza has been a lawyer, a soldier, and a copywriter. She’s worn combat boots and high heels in the same 24-hour period–and she definitely prefers flip flops. Actually, she prefers going barefoot while writing steamy romances about strong women and alpha men with hearts of gold. After years in Tornado Alley, she now makes her home in the Great Lakes region with her husband, kids, and more baskets than any one person should own. (You can never have enough.)
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RELEASE BOOST ~ Title: All the King’s Horses, Series: Katura Chronicles #1, Author: Kim Congram, Genre: Women’s Fiction/Action, Release Date: November 15, 2018 ~ Available Now!

 

Title: All the King’s Horses

Series: Katura Chronicles #1

Author: Kim Congram
Genre: Women’s Fiction/Action
Release Date: November 15, 2018

 

Blurb
There are three ways you become a Monarch
1. Born to it
2. Marry into the family
3. Take it
They stole it
And I had a choice: 
Fall into line, serve our new King, or fight.
My new motto?

 

It’s only treason if you lose.

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Excerpt
I took one look at the oncoming wall of people and broke the
line. There were too many; we’d be crushed, they’d be injured. It was too
dangerous. Around me, soldiers made similar calls, stepping back, moving out of
the panicked protester’s way. Some tried standing their ground, only to fall
under the first wave. 
“Fall back! Fall back! Let them through!” I ordered, screaming into
my radio. “Fall back! Let them through! Fall back!” 
Some listened, others didn’t. I didn’t know if they could hear me. It was
pandemonium. It was chaos. 
It was war. 
I watched in horror as a soldier, panicked, started beating a woman who’d run
into him with his baton. She desperately tried to push him away, twisting to
avoid him, trying to move towards the exit. She managed one step before his arm
came down cracking her on the head. She went down, landing on the street,
immediately swallowed by the wave of stampeding feet.
“With me!” I screamed, surging through the crowd, eyes on the spot
the woman had gone down. I prayed someone was behind me. I fought against
the people, using my shield as a weapon. I was pushed, shoved, and beaten as I
clawed my way to where she’d fallen. I stepped on her arm. Immediately pulling
my foot back, I looked down. Her face was a bloody mess, her body completely mangled
with blood and bruising. I stepped over her, bracing a foot on either side, the
soldier who’d hit her nowhere to be found. I held my shield up as still more
people streamed through the narrow entrance, eyes panicked, bodies
bloody. 

 

What the fuck was going on? 

 

My radio crackled, but I couldn’t hear it over the screaming and thunder of the
crowds. A child tripped beside me. I snapped out a hand, hurling him up,
pushing him behind me. He clung to my leg, whomever he’d been with already lost
in the crowd, pushed along by the surge. 

 

Fuck. 

 

A soldier appeared beside me. The guy from earlier. 
“Colonel!” he yelled, struggled to be heard over the crowd. He
braced, lacing his arm with mine, crouching we shuffled slightly, moving to
fully cover the woman. The kid kept clinging to me, his small arms and legs now
wrapped completely around my leg. 
“She’s bad,” the guy said as the crowd started to thin. 
“I know.” Her legs looked broken, and she had to have internal
injuries. Her face was a complete mess. 
“She won’t be the only one.” 
His arm flexed around mine, but we didn’t move. We couldn’t. We had to hold, or
we’d all go under. I could see the end of the crowd, the line of soldiers three
deep, followed by a row of trucks. 
“Shit,” the soldier yelled. “This is some dystopian
shit!” 
I grunted, shifting my grip on the shield. “Pray the truck is for
casualties.” 
The crowd thinned, light enough I could shift into a crouch, my hand going
immediately to the woman’s neck. 
“Pulse,” I reported. “Weak as shit. She’s bad.” 
“But alive,” he pointed out. “We’ve got to get her
help.” 
Author Bio
Kim Congram
is a transplant to Australia’s capital, Canberra. Kim loves it for the food,
the weather, the mountains and even the roundabouts.
She is a
part-time writer, full-time worker bee and lover of all things romance. Kim
lives with the hero of her own love story and their dachshund in their house
full of books.
Author Links
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