Iron Canuck

Sharing my love of reading and hope to help authors by promoting books I enjoy.

Release Blitz: Mixologist (The Cougar Collection) by Mila Hart with a review.



by Mila Hart


Release: August 1, 2019


Genre: Erotic Romance/Age Gap




Cover Design: Vanilla Lily Designs




It started off as a game, sending a pic anonymously. All I’d planned to do was ruffle her feathers, maybe make her blush with embarrassment and possibly desire. I sure as hell had no intention of falling for her.


Although I fantasized about her being beneath me, watching her unravel, that would never happen anywhere other than in my wet dreams. Bronwyn James was fine wine to my cheap beer—the two didn’t mix in polite society without a hangover.


But on Snapchat, we were equals. Social and economic standings didn’t come into play, and neither did our age...until my feelings got involved. I’d gone from wanting Bronwyn in my bed to needing her in my life—but that might be too much to ask since I hadn’t been willing to tell her who I was.



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Author Bio:

It all started with two whores...


MILA HART writes cheeky, erotic quickies.

We have a ton of amazingly sexy stories coming your





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Link to my review on Iron Canuck:


Release Blitz: Retribution (Youngblood Series #2) by Monique Orgeron with excerpts.



Series: Youngblood Series #2

by Monique Orgeron


Release: August 1, 2019


Genre: Romantic Suspense






My retribution may be over, but my future remains controlled by my past.


 A son always pays for his father's sins.


Stripped of everything, I was punished for crimes I believed my father was wrongly accused of. 

My need for revenge blinded me.

Faced with the truth, I was forced to make a choice that went against what I’d fought so hard for. 

With my atonement complete, I’m asked what would make me happy. 

I had it once and the very person who gave it to me is the same one who robbed me of it.


How can I look forward when I’m tortured by memories of her?


The girl I loved with all my heart and now hate with all I am. 


Sometimes love isn’t good for you.


Sometimes, you have to love yourself enough to see the destruction ahead and simply move out of the way.

I once loved a boy who was determined to continually hurt himself.

For a chance to prove himself worthy. 

He was worthy in my eyes, but it wasn’t enough.

Then a secret opened my eyes to see the years of pain and hurt the future held.

Leaving, I took a risk for a better future, but my return unravels a spiral of betrayal. 

I know I will be at their mercy.



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In the Series

Redemption (Youngblood Series #1)

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Meet the Author:

Written by Monique Orgeron’s eldest, most beautiful, and intelligent daughter. (My sister is going to hate this part.)


My mom happens to be the most caring, loving, and stubborn person I know, well anyone knows. She gives 100% percent of herself to everyone and has given up so much of herself for my sister and I. For twenty-one years she has poured her heart and soul into making sure we know that we are loved and that we can do anything we put our minds too, but it was about time she figured that out about herself. 

Up until this year I hadn’t seen my mom do anything for only her, but this book has allowed her to travel the world through the pages of a book, make new friends, and feel the joy of doing something exciting. 

There is a new light behind her eyes and it is just making me feel more joy than she can ever imagine. While she might be annoying most of the time, I am so thrilled that she is finally allowing herself to grow as a person and not spend all of her energy on her family. 

It has been a long journey of self-discovery for my mom; she has gone from domestic supermom to domestic goddess throughout the process of writing. 

We are so very excited and proud of you! I love you as big as the world.


-Bria and Tony


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Later that evening, I drove to the Stern mansion to see Catherine. She’s wasn’t at her best which left it even more appealing for me to want to forgive her. She went over what would be my new life. She laid it all out, but then at the end she hit me with the fact that it would all be mine in time. Once I passed through probation. 

I remember that day so clearly, it’s almost like I’m reliving it.

Catherine instantly sees my rage and tries to calm me, tries giving me guarantees but then she halts her speech and asks me one simple question,

“What is it that will make you happy?”

Looking at her baffled, she repeats herself, “Shane, what is it that will truly make you happy? You need to figure it out because this life is not made for everyone and you missed a lot by not being raised in it. If you think that me giving you everything you always wished for will make you happy, it won’t. And with everything I’ve put you through, I want that for you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness…”

Interrupting her, I say, “I never said you had my forgiveness and the way things are going, it doesn’t look like I will be giving you a reprieve from your guilt any time soon.”

She nods her head and quietly says, “I deserve that. I do, but I’m not putting you on probation to hurt you.”

“Really? Care to explain? Because it seems like you’re not finished torturing me.”

“I will give you it all, but you need to know how to handle it. You weren’t at the age of training when your father was taken from you.”

“And you took everything else.” I practically yell at her.

“Yes, I did. I will not make any more mistakes with you. When I give you your father’s territory, I will make sure you won’t lose it. You’ll never have to worry about someone trying to take it from you because they will fear you.”

“I’m already feared.”

“Not my kind of fear.” She smiles and says, “This life can eat you up, Shane.”

“Are you worried I will become my father? Is this what all this is about?”

“No, Shane. You are not your father, just like my sons are not theirs. I’m done with the past. All of it. Having cancer has taught me what is really important in life. I can see it clear as day; you think that when I hand you back everything it will make you happy, that it will solve all your problems? It won’t.”

Before she could go on, I stand without another word and leave. I know what comes next, and I can’t believe the nerve of her to want to question my life choices.  

 Pulling myself out of the flashback, I turn my attention back to the envelope. Turning it upside down, the single dried up wildflower of years gone by, falls onto my desk. Slowly and carefully I pick it up.  The once simplistic wildflower is so fragile now and the vibrant yellow coloring it once had is long gone. But still it holds a special meaning to me. More than just the small crush I had for Catherine. 

It brings back another memory, one of a girl, innocent and beautiful with hair as golden as the sun. With curls that surrounded her delicate features. She was my wildflower. Images remain of her lying beside me in an open field under the light of day. Laughing so sweetly as I slipped wildflowers like this one through her curls making a crown around her head as she looked upon me like she needed me for her next breath. 

Catherine wants to know what would make me happy. How do I tell her that I had it once and the very person that gave it to me is the same one who robbed me of it? 

I slip the flower back into the envelope and stick it back into its place in my drawer. Yesterday is gone, my wildflower girl took with her everything I ever cared about. Leaving me with a void I’ve never been able to fill. 

All I know is things are about to change. I will seek out my new future. I might never be truly happy again, but I’m done paying retribution for someone else’s crime and Catherine damn well better deliver on her promises.



“You are the one secret that will get me killed. You’re proof that there is no redemption for me.”

Those two sentences play over and over in my mind. They were the last words Teddy said to me before storming out. Now, I can’t breathe, I’m to the point of hyperventilating. My God, what did I do? I should’ve never come back. Folding my body over, I start panicking. I need to calm my breathing. 

Last time he was here, I had a small episode but nothing like this. I was petrified and did all I could to hide myself from his view but now he knows it’s me. It’s too soon. 

“It’s too fucking soon!”

I’m not ready. Oh my God, he saw Sean. That was not supposed to happen. Which is why I’m panicking even more. 

“Okay Jolie, calm down, you can do this.” I try giving myself some kind of reassurance. 

Needing to sit, I slowly walk over to a chair and pull it out, flopping my ass down. Flinging my head between my legs, I start rocking back and forth.  

“Okay! Okay!”

My breathing starts to calm but I’m still rocking and staring at the floor. Then my son’s face flashes in my mind.


I can’t do this. I can’t lose control and panic. Too much is riding on this. 

“Oh God, get it together, Jolie.” 

Taking control, I stop rocking and sit up straight in a daze. Once my breathing is under control, I snap out of it and start looking around my bakery. Taking one long deep breath, I push myself to stand and move into action. I begin by locking the front door, making sure to look out onto the street while doing so. Needing to make sure no one is watching or waiting for us. Shutting all the lights off in a hurry, I make my way to the back door to lock up. Sean takes me by surprise, causing me to jump. 

“Mom, who was that man?”

Slamming my hand over my heart, I yell, “Jesus! You scared me.”


“Get in the car!”


“Sean, get in the car!”

With an attitude, he finally listens and storms off towards the car. Following behind him, I’m not so stealthy as I look in all directions for anyone who might be hiding. Once inside the car, I lock the doors and start the engine. Without another second wasted, I take off, and try to stay focused as I think.

“MOM! Who was that man?!”

There’s a constant alarm going off in my head, telling me to run. It keeps me laser focused on the road ahead of me. Hearing my son calling my name is the only thing strong enough right now to pull me from my thoughts. What do I tell him? How do I explain who Teddy Trahan is? 

I can’t, not now. I have to think. My plan has always been to be the one to seek them out but only once I was ready. I’m not ready but honestly, I doubt I ever would’ve been. Especially not now, not after seeing the look on Teddy’s face and still seeing the same hate in his eyes as the day I left. 

Maybe I should just keep driving? This was a bad idea, just keep driving Jolie. JUST KEEP DRIVING! With each second, my foot presses harder on the accelerator, missing the turn off to go home. I could just continue to drive and get us the hell out of here, but go where? Do what? Now that Teddy knows I’m here, there is no running. To him I fucked up, I betrayed him. I did the one thing he told me was forbidden. I came back. Looking over to my son, I see his worry and questioning why I’m so shaken. He has no idea what a risk I took by bringing us to Louisiana. 

“Mom, you missed the turn.”

Ignoring my son, I keep driving, heading straight for the interstate. My mind swirls with memories of the past, of the night I left, feeling the same terror I did back then.      

I glance over to Sean, knowing now with Teddy seeing him, time is running out. 

“MOM! Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Who was that man?”

“Sean, stop! Let me think.”

Seeing the turn to the exit for the interstate, I veer to the right and get on going… shit, I don’t know where. I just keep driving.

“MOM! Where are we going?!” 

I can hear the panic rising in his voice, it’s starting to equal mine. But I keep driving. When I don’t answer, Sean becomes silent for a mile or two, giving me a moment to concentrate until I hear him in a low tone ask,

“Mom, is it them?”

THEM? Oh my God. I glance back over to him and see the fear in his eyes. Fear that should never be in someone of his age. Girls, friends, and school should be the only thing he has to worry about. Not the shit I brought into his life. It’s my fear, not his. It should only belong to me. This is the last thing a mother wants. Jesus. What am I doing? 

Slowing the car down, I start looking for signs, any sign to tell me where I can get off this damn interstate. Taking the next exit, I see a gas station right ahead. I pull in and park off to the side where I know we won’t be disturbed. With my hands still on the steering wheel, I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself enough to convince him we’ll be okay.

Releasing the steering wheel, I turn to him and say,

“Sean, look at me, baby. We’re alright. Everything will be fine.”

“Then who was that back there? Why are you lying to me?”

“Sean, I’m not lying. We’re okay.”

“You aren’t going to answer me, are you? I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’re my kid! I’m the mother! I will take care of you, just stop. I will take care of everything. I’ll tell you more when I know more. For tonight, please just let me think.”

“Then at least tell me where we’re going.”

Where are we going? It’s a good question. Do I really have any other options? There is nowhere I can go and guarantee we will both be safe. But here, in New Orleans, I can guarantee his safety and that’s all that matters. With one more glance at my son, I put the car in drive and start driving back to the interstate, heading in the opposite direction and answer him with strong conviction.

“We’re going home. This is exactly where we need to be.”


Steamy story, fun read

Mixologist - Mila Hart

One steamy and touching read. Two people who connected via text and took a chance before finding each other. Bronwyn and Kane heat up this story, and I enjoyed every page. Kane knew what he wanted and risked reaching out. Bronwyn, though hesitant, wanted to try something different. Obstacles needed to be surmounted, confidence needed to be gained, and trust in each other.

I received a copy of this story through Enticing Journey Book Promotions, and this is my unsolicited review.

Looking to tweak my blog name.

When I started this, I used it for reviews only. Now I use it for promoting those books as well. "Iron Canuck" is who I am but does not indicate my passion. I am looking for suggestions. These are a couple I have come up with:


Iron Canuck's Reads

Iron Canuck Loves Books

Iron Canuck's Book Files


Nothing really jumps out at me. I do want to keep the "Iron Canuck".


Thank you for any suggestions.

Cover Reveal and Preorder: The Vow We Made by Loriana Cappello


The Vow We Made

by Loriana Cappello


Release: August 14, 2019


Genre: Contemporary Romance






A Story of friendship, family, and above all else, love.


Victoria West was Vivacious, determined and thought her happily ever after was all mapped out. 

When tragedy strikes, claiming the life of her new husband, she receives information that shatters her world. 

Three years later, Victoria finds herself beginning to trust another man for the first time, 

but is she prepared to expose her darkest fears and share the biggest secret of her life with him?


Doctor Aiden James is dedicated to his profession and has little time for relationships, 

but there’s something about Victoria’s vulnerability and beauty that makes him want a different future. 

One where she becomes his.  

An unfortunate twist of fate leads to Aiden making a discovery about his own past. 

Consumed with guilt, will he choose his professional oath or damn the consequences for Victoria?


Two people destined to be together but both are keeping secrets that could destroy their chance at forever.



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Author Bio:

Loriana Cappello lives just outside of London, with her ever-supportive husband and four beautiful children. She is a full-time mum by day, but when her evenings become free, she hides away and loses herself in the depths of her imagination. Her passion for reading and writing tall stories started as a little girl. Her love of romance, a little later.


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Preorder Blitz: Just One More by H. D'Agostino


Just One More

by H. D’Agostino


Release: August 8, 2019


Genre: Contemporary Romance (stand alone)


Photographer: FuriousFotog

Cover Model: Shaun Caswell

Cover Design: Pink Ink Designs

Teaser Design: Kari March Designs






Hailey Sullivan.

The girl next door. 

My best friend. 

We met when we were three, and have been inseparable most of our lives--- that is until I fell in love with her. I knew I had to bury my feelings; our friendship was more important. I was willing to love her from afar, and was doing just that until tragedy struck.

It’s funny how one moment can change everything. All the things I thought I’d never have become possibilities, and all my reasons for staying away from her seem inconsequential. Sometimes all we need is one more day; one more hour; one more moment. Just one more was all I wanted, and I’d prove that Hailey and I were more than just best friends.



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Author Bio:

Heather D'Agostino is an avid reader turned Bestselling Author of the Contemporary Romance Series The Broken Series, The Shattered Series, The Second Chances Series, The Cook Brothers Series, and Romantic Suspense series The Witness Series.


She attended the University of North Carolina at Charlotte where she received a Bachelor's of Arts in Elementary Education with a minor in Mathematics.


She currently lives in Central New York with her husband, two children, two dogs, and three cats. When she's not writing she can usually be found at the dance studio, soccer field, or one of the many other places that she plays 'Supermom'. 



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Sale Blitz: Parker (Face-Off ) by Jillian Quinn, 99 cent sale July 29-August 2



Series: Face-Off Series #1

by Jillian Quinn


Genre: Sports Romance, Romantic Comedy, New Adult Romance


Release: February 12, 2017






His agent is his biggest weakness...After another puck bunny scandal sends me to Philadelphia, my new agent wants me to clean up my act. She says I party harder than I play. And she’s right.So, she offers to help me get my life and career back on track, but I have to move in with her. I thought I could make it through one week without wanting my agent. But I was wrong.Our living arrangement tests her rule about dating clients, making it impossible to stay away from each other. But with my past, keeping my distance is the only thing that can save her from becoming my next scandal.



Buy Links (On sale for 99 pennies)


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About the Author

Jillian Quinn is the international bestselling author of over fifteen romance novels, most notably known for the Face-Off series. She’s from Philly, a city girl to the core, now living in Southwest Florida, where she still hasn’t adjusted, though she’s not opposed to the warm weather or lazy days by the pool.


Jillian sets all of her books in her hometown, dreams of getting her hands on a real cheesesteak, and still cheers for her local sports teams. She’s a lover of sports, especially those involving tackling, checking, and men in tight pants. A self-proclaimed Coffee Queen, Jillian practically lives at Starbucks, where you can find her most days, drinking all the coffee.


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Release Blitz: Freak (Fallen Lords MC #7) by Winter Travers with a giveaway



Series: Fallen Lords MC #7

by Winter Travers


Genre: MC Romance


Release Date: July 29, 2019






Freak has watched his brothers fall for the women they love time and time again and is more than familiar with the signs of a man about to hand over his heart. 

When Carnie comes tumbling into the clubhouse asking for help, all it takes is a bat of her innocent stare and sassy tongue for Freak to know what is about to happen. But when he finds out how old she is, he hesitates to stake his claim. As a Fallen Lord through and through, he will make sure to protect her even though he’s promised himself not to touch her. 

Can Carnie convince Freak age is just a number, or is he on a one way track out of her life?



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Author Bio:

Winter Travers is a devoted wife, mother, and aunt turned author who was born and raised in Wisconsin. After a brief stint in South Carolina following her heart to chase the man who is now her hubby, they retreated back up North to the changing seasons, and the place they now call home.

Winter spends her days writing happily ever afters, and her nights zipping around on her forklift at work.  She also has an addiction to anything MC related, her dog Thunder, and Mexican food! (Tamales!)

Winter loves to stay connected with her readers. Don’t hesitate to reach out and contact her.


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Blog Tour: The Escape Room by Megan Goldin with an excerpt and a review.


The Escape Room

by Megan Goldin



In Megan Goldin's unforgettable debut, The Escape Room, four young Wall Street rising stars discover the price of ambition when an escape room challenge turns into a lethal game of revenge.


Welcome to the escape room. Your goal is simple. Get out alive.

In the lucrative world of finance, Vincent, Jules, Sylvie, and Sam are at the top of their game. They’ve mastered the art of the deal and celebrate their success in style—but a life of extreme luxury always comes at a cost.

Invited to participate in an escape room as a team-building exercise, the ferociously competitive co-workers crowd into the elevator of a high rise building, eager to prove themselves. But when the lights go off and the doors stay shut, it quickly becomes clear that this is no ordinary competition: they’re caught in a dangerous game of survival.

Trapped in the dark, the colleagues must put aside their bitter rivalries and work together to solve cryptic clues to break free. But as the game begins to reveal the team’s darkest secrets, they realize there’s a price to be paid for the terrible deeds they committed in their ruthless climb up the corporate ladder. As tempers fray, and the clues turn deadly, they must solve one final chilling puzzle: which one of them will kill in order to survive?



Author Bio:
MEGAN GOLDIN worked as a correspondent for Reuters and other media outlets where she covered war, peace, international terrorism and financial meltdowns in the Middle East and Asia. She is now based in Melbourne, Australia where she raises three sons and is a foster mum to Labrador puppies learning to be guide dogs. THE ESCAPE ROOM is her debut novel.


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It was Miguel who called 911 at 4:07 a.m. on an icy Sunday morning. The young security guard spoke in an unsteady voice, fear disguised by cocky nonchalance.

Miguel had been an aspiring bodybuilder until he injured his back lifting boxes in a warehouse job and had to take night- shift work guarding a luxury office tower in the final stages of construction. He had a muscular physique, dark hair, and a cleft in his chin.

He was conducting a cursory inspection when a scream rang out. At first, he didn’t hear a thing. Hip- hop music blasted through the oversize headphones he wore as he swept his flashlight across the dark recesses of the lobby.

The beam flicked across the classical faces of reproduction Greek busts cast in metal and inset into niches in the walls. They evoked an eerie otherworldliness, which gave the place the aura of a mausoleum.

Miguel paused his music to search for a fresh play list of songs. It was then that he heard the tail end of a muffled scream.

The sound was so unexpected that he instinctively froze. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard strange noises at night, whether it was the screech of tomcats brawling or the whine of construction cranes buffeted by wind. Silence followed. Miguel chided himself for his childish reaction.

He pressed PLAY to listen to a new song and was immediately assaulted by the explosive beat of a tune doing the rounds at the dance clubs where he hung out with friends.

Still, something in the screech he’d heard a moment before rattled him enough for him to be extra diligent.

He bent down to check the lock of the revolving lobby door. It was bolted shut. He swept the flashlight across a pair of still escalators and then, above his head, across the glass- walled mezzanine floor that overlooked the lobby.

He checked behind the long reception desk of blond oak slats and noticed that a black chair was at an odd angle, as if someone had left in a hurry.

A stepladder was propped against a wall where the lobby café was being set up alongside a water fountain that was not yet functional. Plastic- wrapped café tables and chairs were piled up alongside it.

In the far corner, he shone his flashlight in the direction of an elaborate model of the building complex shown to prospective tenants by Realtors rushing to achieve occupancy targets in time for the building’s opening the following month.

The model detailed an ambitious master plan to turn an abandoned ware house district that had been a magnet for homeless people and addicts into a high- end financial and shopping precinct. The first tower was almost finished. A second was halfway through construction.

When Miguel turned around to face the elevator lobby, he was struck by something so incongruent that he pushed his headphones off his head and onto his shoulders.

The backlit green fluorescent light of an elevator switch flickered in the dark. It suggested that an elevator was in use. That was impossible, because he was the only person there.
In the sobriety of the silent echo that followed, he convinced himself once again that his vague sense of unease was the hallucination of a fatigued mind. There was nobody in the elevator for the simple reason that the only people on- site on weekends were the security guards. Two per shift. Except to night, Miguel was the only one on duty.

When Stu had been a no- show for his shift, Miguel figured he’d manage alone. The construction site was fenced off with towering barbed- wire fences and a heavy- duty electric gate. Nobody came in or out until the shift ended.

In the four months he’d worked there, the only intruders he’d encountered were feral cats and rats scampering across construction equipment in the middle of the night. Nothing ever happened during the night shift.

That was what he liked about the job. He was able to study and sleep and still get paid. Sometimes he’d sleep for a couple of hours on the soft leather lobby sofa, which he found preferable to the lumpy stretcher in the portable office where the guards took turns resting between patrols. The CCTV cameras hadn’t been hooked up yet, so he could still get away with it.

From the main access road, the complex looked completed. It had a driveway entry lined with young maples in planter boxes. The lobby had been fitted out and furnished to impress prospective tenants who came to view office space.

The second tower, facing the East River, looked unmistakably like a construction site. It was wrapped with scaffolding. Shipping containers storing building materials were arranged like colorful Lego blocks in a muddy field alongside idle bulldozers and a crane.
Miguel removed keys from his belt to open the side entrance to let himself out, when he heard a loud crack. It whipped through the lobby with an intensity that made his ears ring.

Two more cracks followed. They were unmistakably the sound of gunshots. He hit the ground and called 911. He was terrified the shooter was making his way to the lobby but cocky enough to cover his fear with bravado when he spoke.

“Something bad’s going down here.” He gave the 911 dispatcher the address. “You should get cops over here.”

Miguel figured from the skepticism in the dispatcher’s cool voice that his call was being given priority right below the doughnut run.

His heart thumped like a drum as he waited for the cops to arrive. You chicken shit, he berated himself as he took cover behind a sofa. He exhaled into his shirt to muffle the sound of his rapid breathing. He was afraid he would give away his position to the shooter.

A wave of relief washed over him when the lobby finally lit up with a hazy blue strobe as a police car pulled in at the taxi stand. Miguel went outside to meet the cops.

“What’s going on?” An older cop with a thick gut hanging over his belted pants emerged from the front passenger seat.

“Beats me,” said Miguel. “I heard a scream. Inside the building. Then I heard what I’m pretty sure were gunshots.”

“How many shots?” A younger cop came around the car to meet him, snapping a wad of gum in his mouth.

“Two, maybe three shots. Then nothing.”

“Is anyone else around?” The older cop’s expression was hidden under a thick gray mustache.

“They clear out the site on Friday night. No construction workers. No nobody. Except me. I’m the night guard.”

“Then what makes you think there’s a shooter?”

“I heard a loud crack. Sure sounded like a gunshot. Then two more. Came from somewhere up in the tower.”

“Maybe construction equipment fell? That possible?”

A faint thread of red suffused Miguel’s face as he contemplated the possibility that he’d panicked over nothing. They moved into the lobby to check things out, but he was feeling less confident than when he’d called 911. “I’m pretty sure they—” He stopped speaking as they all heard the unmistakable sound of a descending elevator.

“I thought you said there was nobody here,” said the older cop.

“There isn’t.”

“Could have fooled me,” said the second cop. They moved through to the elevator lobby. A light above the elevator doors was flashing to indicate an elevator’s imminent arrival.

“Someone’s here.”

“The building opens for business in a few weeks,” said Miguel. “Nobody’s supposed to be here.”

The cops drew their guns from their holsters and stood in front of the elevator doors in a shooting stance— slightly crouched, legs apart. One of the cops gestured furiously for Miguel to move out of the way. Miguel stepped back. He hovered near an abstract metal sculpture set into the wall at the dead end of the elevator lobby.

A bell chimed. The elevator heaved as it arrived.

The doors parted with a slow hiss. Miguel swallowed hard as the gap widened. He strained to see what was going on. The cops were blocking his line of sight and he was at too sharp an angle to see much.

“Police,” shouted both cops in unison. “Put your weapon down.”

Miguel instinctively pressed himself against the wall. He flinched as the first round of bullets was fired. There were too many shots to count. His ears rang so badly, it took him a moment to realize the police had stopped firing. They’d lowered their weapons and were shouting something. He didn’t know what. He couldn’t hear a thing over the ringing in his ears.

Miguel saw the younger cop talk into his radio. The cop’s mouth opened and closed. Miguel couldn’t make out the words. Gradually, his hearing returned and he heard the tail end of a stream of NYPD jargon.

He couldn’t understand most of what was said. Something about “nonresponsive” and needing “a bus,” which he assumed meant an ambulance. Miguel watched a trickle of blood run along the marble floor until it formed a puddle. He edged closer. He glimpsed blood splatter on the wall of the elevator. He took one more step. Finally, he could see inside the elevator. He immediately regretted it. He’d never seen so much blood in all his life.


Thirty-four Hours Earlier

Vincent was the last to arrive. His dark overcoat flared behind him as he strode through the lobby. The other three were standing in an informal huddle by a leather sofa. They didn’t notice Vincent come in. They were on their phones, with their backs to the entrance, preoccupied with emails and silent contemplation as to why they had been called to a last-minute meeting on a Friday night at an out-of-the-way office building in the South Bronx. 

Vincent observed them from a distance as he walked across the lobby toward them. Over the years, the four of them had spent more time together than apart. Vincent knew them almost better than he knew himself. He knew their secrets, and their lies. There were times when he could honestly say that he’d never despised anyone more than these three people. He suspected they all shared the sentiment. Yet they needed one another. Their fates had been joined together long before.

Sylvie’s face bore its usual expression, a few degrees short of a resting-bitch face. With her cover-girl looks and dark blond hair pinned in a topknot that drew attention to her green eyes, Sylvie looked like the catwalk model that she’d been when she was a teenager. She was irritated by being called to an unscheduled meeting when she had to pack for Paris, but she didn’t let it show on her face. She studiously kept a faint upward tilt to her lips. It was a practice drummed into her over many years working in a male-dominated profession. Men could snarl or look angry with impunity; women had to smile serenely regardless of the provocation.

To her right stood Sam, wearing a charcoal suit with a white shirt and a black tie. His stubble matched the dark blond of his closely cropped hair. His jaw twitched from the knot of anxiety in his guts. He’d felt stabbing pains ever since his wife, Kim, telephoned during the drive over. She was furious that he wouldn’t make the flight to Antigua because he was attending an unscheduled meeting. She hated the fact that his work always took precedence over her and the girls.

Jules stood slightly away from the other two, sucking on a peppermint candy to disguise the alcohol on his breath. He wore a suave burgundy-and-navy silk tie that made his Gypsy eyes burn with intensity. His dark hair was brushed back in the style of a fifties movie star. He usually drank vodka because it was odorless and didn’t make his face flush, but now his cheeks were ruddy in a tell-tale sign he’d been drinking. The minibar in his chauffeured car was out of vodka, so he’d had to make do with whiskey on the ride over. The empty bottles were still rattling around in his briefcase.

As they waited for their meeting, they all had the same paranoid notion that they’d been brought to a satellite office to be retrenched. Their careers would be assassinated silently, away from the watercooler gossips at the head office.

It was how they would have done it if the positions were reversed. A Friday-evening meeting at an out-of-the-way office, concluding with a retrenchment package and a nondisclosure agreement signed and sealed.

The firm was considering unprecedented layoffs, and they were acutely aware they had red targets on their backs. They said none of this to one another. They kept their eyes downcast as they worked on their phones, unaware they were the only ones in the lobby. Just as they hadn’t paid much mind to the cranes and construction fencing on their way in.

Sam checked his bank account while he waited. The negative balance made him queasy. He’d wiped out all the cash in his account that morning paying Kim’s credit-card bill. If he lost his job, then the floodgates would open. He could survive two to three months without work; after that, he’d have to sell assets. That alone would destroy him financially. He was leveraged to the hilt. Some of his assets were worth less now than when he’d bought them.

The last time Sam had received a credit-card bill that huge, he’d immediately lowered Kim’s credit limit. Kim found out when her payment for an eleven-thousand-dollar Hermès handbag was rejected at the Madison Avenue store in front of her friends. She was mortified. They had a huge blowup that night, and he reluctantly restored her credit limit. Now he paid all her bills without a word of complaint. Even if it meant taking out bridging loans. Even if it meant constantly feeling on the verge of a heart attack.

Sam knew that Kim spent money as much for attention as out of boredom. She complained that Sam was never around to help with the twins. He’d had to point out that they’d hired a maid to give her all the help she needed. Three maids, to be truthful.

Three within the space of two years. The third had walked out in tears a week ago due to Kim’s erratic temper.

Kim was never satisfied with anything. If Sam gave Kim a platinum necklace, she wanted it in gold. If he took her to London, she wanted Paris. If he bought her a BMW, she wanted a Porsche.

Satisfying her unceasing demands was doable when his job prospects were good, but the firm had lost a major account, and since Christmas word had spread of an impending restructure. Everyone knew that was a euphemism for layoffs.

Sam never doubted that Kim would leave him if he couldn’t support her lifestyle anymore. She’d demand full custody of the girls and she’d raise them to hate him. Kim forgave most of his transgressions, she could even live with his infidelities, but she never forgave failure.

It was Sam who first heard the footsteps sounding through the vast lobby. The long, hurried strides of a man running late to a meeting. Sam swung around as their boss arrived. Vincent’s square jaw was tight and his broad shoulders were tense as he joined them without saying a word.

“You almost didn’t make it,” observed Sylvie.

“The traffic was terrible.” Vincent ran his hand over his overcoat pocket in the habit of a man who had recently stopped smoking. Instead of cigarettes, he took out a pair of glasses, which he put on to examine the message on his phone. “Are you all aware of the purpose of this meeting?”

“The email invite from HR wasn’t exactly brimming with information,” said Sam. “You said in your text message it was compulsory for us to attend. That it took precedence over everything else. Well, we’re all here. So maybe now you can enlighten us, Vincent.

What’s so important that I had to delay my trip to Antigua?”

“Who here has done an escape-room challenge before?” Vincent asked.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam said. “I abandoned my wife on her dream vacation to participate in a team-building activity! This is bullshit, Vincent. It’s goddamn bullshit and you know it.”

“It will take an hour,” said Vincent calmly. “Next Friday is bonus day. I’m sure that we all agree that it’s smart to be on our best behavior before bonus day, especially in the current climate.”

“Let’s do it,” said Sylvie, sighing. Her flight to Paris was at midnight. She still had plenty of time to get home and pack. Vincent led them to a brightly lit elevator with its doors wide open. Inside were mirrored walls and an alabaster marble floor. They stepped inside. The steel doors shut behind them before they could turn around.


It’s remarkable what a Windsor knot divulges about a man. Richie’s Italian silk tie was a brash shade of red, with thin gold stripes running on a diagonal. It was the tie of a man whose arrogance was dwarfed only by his ego.

In truth, I didn’t need to look at his tie to know that Richie was a douche. The dead giveaway was that when I entered the interview room, a nervous smile on my pink matte painted lips, he didn’t bother to greet me. Or even to stand up from the leather chair where he sat and surveyed me as I entered the room.

While I categorized Richie as a first-class creep the moment I set eyes on him, I was acutely aware that I needed to impress him if I was to have any chance of getting the job. I introduced myself and reached out confidently to shake his hand. He shook my hand with a grip that was tighter than necessary—a reminder, perhaps, that he could crush my career aspirations as easily as he could break the bones in my delicate hand.

He introduced himself as Richard Worthington. The third, if you don’t mind. He had a two-hundred-dollar haircut, a custom shave, and hands that were softer than butter. He was in his late twenties, around five years older than I was.

When we were done shaking hands, Richie leaned back in his chair and surveyed me with a touch of amusement as I settled into my seat across the table.

“You can take off your jacket and relax,” he said. “We try to keep interviews informal here.”

I took off my jacket and left it folded over the back of the chair next to me as I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. Did he see a struggling business-school graduate with a newly minted MBA that didn’t appear to be worth the paper it was written on? Or was he perceptive enough to see an intelligent, accomplished young woman? Glossy brown hair cut to a professional shoulder length, serious gray eyes, wearing a brand-new designer suit she couldn’t afford and borrowed Louboutin shoes that were a half size too small and pinched her toes.

I took a deep breath and tried to project the poise and confidence necessary to show him that I was the best candidate. Finally I had a chance at getting my dream job on Wall Street. I would do everything that I could humanly do not to screw it up.

Richie wore a dark gray suit with a fitted white shirt. His cuff links were Hermès,

arranged so that the H insignia was clearly visible. On his wrist was an Audemars Piguet watch, a thirty-grand piece that told everyone who cared that he was the very model of a Wall Street player.

Richie left me on the edge of my seat, waiting awkwardly, as he read over my résumé. Paper rustled as he scanned the neatly formatted sheets that summed up my life in two pages. I had the impression that he was looking at it for the first time. When he was done, he examined me over the top of the pages with the lascivious expression of a john sizing up girls at a Nevada whorehouse.



All the lights in the elevator turned off at once. It happened the moment the doors shut. One moment they were in a brightly lit elevator; the next they were in pitch- darkness. They were as good as blind, save for the weak fluorescent glow from a small display above the steel doors showing the floor number.

Jules stumbled toward the elevator control panel. He pressed the button to open the doors. The darkness was suffocating him. He had to get out. The elevator shot up before anything happened. The jolt was unexpected. Jules lost his footing and fell against the wall with a thud.

As the elevator accelerated upward, they assumed the lights would be restored at any moment. In every other respect, the elevator was working fine. It was ascending smoothly. The green display above the door was showing the changing floor numbers. There was no reason why it should be dark.

Without realizing it, they shifted toward one another, drawn together by a primordial fear of the dark and the unknown dangers that lurked within it. Jules fumbled for his phone and turned on the flashlight setting so that he could see what he was doing. He frantically pressed the buttons for upcoming floors. They didn’t appear to respond to the insistent pressure of his thumb.

“It’s probably an express,” explained Sylvie. “I saw a sign in the lobby that said something about the elevator running express until the seventieth floor.”

Jules pressed the button for the seventieth floor. And the seventy-first. And, for good measure, the seventy- second, as well. The buttons immediately lit up one after the other, each button backlit in green. Jules silently counted the remaining floors. All he could think about was getting out.

He loosened his tie to alleviate the tightness in his chest. He’d never considered himself claustrophobic, but he’d had an issue with confined spaces ever since he was a child. He once left summer camp early, in hysterics after being accidentally locked in a toilet stall for a few minutes. His mother told the camp leader that his overreaction was due to a childhood trauma that left him somewhat claustrophobic and nervous in the dark.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ll be taking the stairs on the way down,” Sam joked with fake nonchalance. “I’m not getting back into this hunk of junk again.”

“Maybe the firm is locking us up in here until we resign voluntarily,” Jules said drily. “It’ll save Stanhope a shitload of money.” He swallowed hard. The elevator was approaching the fortieth floor. They were halfway there. He had to hold it together for another thirty floors.

“It would be a mistake if the firm retrenched any of us,” said Vincent. “I told the executive team as much when we met earlier this week.” What Vincent didn’t mention was that several of the leadership team had avoided looking at him during that meeting. That was when he knew the writing was on the wall.

“Why get rid of us? We’ve always made the firm plenty of money,” Sylvie said.

“Until lately,” Vincent said pointedly.

They’d failed to secure two major deals in a row. Those deals had both gone to a key competitor, who had inexplicably undercut them each time. It made them wonder whether their competitor had inside knowledge of their bids. The team’s revenue was lower than it had been in years. For the first time ever, their jobs were vulnerable.

“Are we getting fired, Vincent?” Jules asked as the elevator continued rising. “Is that why we were summoned here? They must have told you something.”

“I got the same generic meeting invite that you all received,” Vincent responded. “It was only as I arrived that I received a text with instructions to bring you all up to the eightieth floor for an escape room challenge. The results of which, it said, would be used for ‘internal consultations about future staff planning.’ Make of that what you will.”

“Sounds like they want to see how we perform tonight before deciding what to do with us,” said Sylvie. “I’ve never done an escape room. What exactly are we supposed to do?”

“It’s straightforward,” said Sam. “You’re locked in a room and have to solve a series of clues to get out.”

“And on that basis they’re going to decide which of us to fire?” Jules asked Vincent in the dark.

“I doubt it,” Vincent said. “The firm doesn’t work that way.”

“Vincent’s right,” said Jules cynically. “Let’s take a more optimistic tack. Maybe they’re using our escape room performance to determine who to promote to Eric Miles’s job.”

Eric had resigned before Christmas under something of a cloud. They’d heard rumors the firm was going to promote someone to the job internally. Such promotions were highly sought after. At a time when their jobs were in jeopardy, it offered one of them a potential career lifeline.

The green display above the door flashed the number 67. They had three more floors to go until the elevator finished the express part of the ride. The elevator slowed down and came to a stop on the seventieth floor. Jules exhaled in relief. He stepped forward in anticipation of the doors opening. They remained shut.

He pressed the open button on the control panel. Nothing happened. He pressed it again, holding it down for several seconds. The doors still didn’t budge. He pressed the button three times in quick succession. Nothing. Finally, in desperation, he pressed the red emergency button. There was no response.

“It’s not working,” he said.

They looked up at the panel above the door that displayed the floor numbers. It had an E on its screen. Error.

A small television monitor above the control panel turned on. At first, they didn’t think much of it. They expected to see cable news or a stock market update, the type of thing usually broadcast on elevator monitors.

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the brightness of the white television screen. After another moment, a message appeared in large black letters.




From The Escape Room. Copyright © 2019 by Megan Goldin and reprinted with permission from St. Martin’s Press.


LInk to my review on Iron Canuck:

Intriguing and a bit gruesome

The Escape Room - Megan Goldin
It took a bit to get into, but I loved how the revenge played out. It was interesting and not straight out obvious. I recommend this story.

I received a copy of this story through Netgalley, and this is my unsolicited review.


Cover Reveal and Preorder: Phoenix Rising (Reed Security Series #16) by Giulia Lagomarsino with an excerpt


Phoenix Rising

Series: Reed Security Series #16

by Giulia Lagomarsino


Release: August 26, 2019


Genre: Contemporary Security Romance





Phoenix Rising is book 16 in the Reed Security Series and it is suggested they be read in order.


The men and women of Reed Security are back, but after all the turmoil of the past year, how do they adapt and move forward? For some, it's easy, but others, the past year is only the beginning of what they'll have to deal with. A few were shot and almost died. Morgan and Chance were taken and tortured, in their own respects, and now must deal with the after effects. Payton was torn from her mother and spent a year and a half without her. The wives lost their jobs, and many had to run from their families and friends to keep them safe. But one thing remained the same through all of this, they are each others' family and will do anything to help each other through. They are Reed Security, and they will rise from the ashes.



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“Alexa, play Sam Tinnesz.”

I waited as it was searching and cringed when Mmm Bop by Hanson came on.

“What the f*@k? Alexa, play Legends Are Made by Sam Tinnesz.”

Alexa searched again, this time playing John Legend.

“You’ve got to be f*@king kidding me. I just want something good to listen to. Alexa, play Hold On For Your Life by Sam Tinnesz,” I said slowly, accentuating every word.


And then the opening strands of Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On started to play.

“F*@k it.” I sloshed back down in the water, trying to ignore the girly song that was playing while I was trying to relax. I actually found that it was working. The soothing melody had me sinking into such a relaxed state that I didn’t even notice the door opening.

“What the hell are you listening to?” My eyes flew open in surprise. Chris was standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face. “Want me to get you a cocktail?”

“Actually, I’d love one,” I retorted. “I tried to get the f*@king thing to play something else, but like any woman, she just did whatever the f*@k she wanted.”

“Alright, let’s see what we got here.” He walked over to a mini fridge in the corner. I had expected to find water, but instead saw some kind of girly cooler. 

“Toss me one.” 

Chris popped the top and handed one to me and then got one for himself. After draining half of it, he got undressed and got in with me. “Is this weird?” he asked as he settled in.

“Sitting in the hot tub together?”

“Yeah. You know, it’s kind of like bathing together. You’re sweaty. I’m sweaty….”

I nodded. “I gotcha.” I reached over to the ledge and grabbed a bottle of body wash, pouring in a generous amount. Bubbles filled the tub and I grinned, pleased with myself.

“Yeah, that’s not at all weird,” Chris muttered. “Now we’re taking a bubble bath together.”

“But we’ll be clean,” I pointed out. “What’s worse? Sitting around in each other’s filth or sitting in soap together?”

“Soap is only clean as long as it’s in the bottle. Once it’s in the water, it’s just dirty soap.”

“It’s self-cleaning.”

“Oh, God.” Chris and I turned to see Jules standing in the doorway with Alec and Rocco. “Are you two taking a bubble bath?”

“It’s a hot tub,” I corrected. “The bubbles are just to get us clean.”

“That’s what a shower is for,” Jules pointed out.

“Hot tubs are very good for the muscles,” Rocco said as he yanked off his shirt. “I’m in.”

“Grab me another cooler before you get in,” I said. 

Rocco stripped down to his shorts and climbed in with a cooler for each of us. “Ah, this is great. My body is killing me today.” He closed his eyes and then opened them, narrowing in on me. “Are you f*@king listening to Celine Dion?”

I shrugged. “You get the b*%ch to play something else.”



Also Available: (Kindle Unlimited)

Sinner (Reed Security Series #1)

Cap (Reed Security Series #2)

Cazzo (Reed Security Series #3)

Knight (Reed Security Series #4)

Irish (Reed Security Series #5)

Hunter (Reed Security Series #6)

Whiskey (Reed Security Series #7)

Lola (Reed Security Series #8)

Ice (Reed Security Series #9)

Burg (Reed Security Series #10)

Gabe (Reed Security Series #11)

Jules (Reed Security Series #12)

Sniper (Reed Security Series - Book 1 of a 3 Book ARC)

Jackson (Reed Security Series - Book 2 of a 3 Book ARC)

Chance (Reed Security Series - Book 3 of a 3 Book ARC)

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Author Bio:

I'm a stay at home mom that loves to read. Some of my favorite titles are Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and Horatio Hornblower. I started writing when I was trying to come up with suggestions on ways I could help bring in some extra money. I came up with the idea that I could donate plasma because you could earn an extra $500/month. My husband responded with, "No. Find something else. Write a blog. Write a book." I didn't think I had anything to share on blog that a thousand other mothers hadn't already thought of. I decided to take his challenge seriously and sat down to write my first book, Jack. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed writing. From there, the stories continued to flow and I haven't been able to stop. I hope my readers enjoy my books as much as I enjoy writing them. Between reading, writing, and taking care of three small kids, my days are quite full.


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Cover Reveal: Eighteen-Thousand Ninety One by Erika Blount and Teri Glascock


Eighteen-Thousand Ninety One

by Erika Blount & Teri Glascock


Genre: Action (with Romance)


Release Date: August 18, 2019


Cover Design: Black Widow Designs






Do you ever wonder what life would be like without power? Those few hours of a power outage when you feel like everything is falling apart, but you know it’ll come back on. What if it didn’t? And what if the only people who could help you were people that were sworn enemies of your father? Ivy Randall faces these challenges and many more in the midst of the world as she knows it falling apart around her. 


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Release Blitz: Endless Blue Seas by Annie Dyer


Endless Blue Seas

by Annie Dyer


Release Date: July 29, 2019


Genre: Contemporary Romance


Cover Design: Murphy Rae






The first time I saw Anya I was shirtless and holding an axe.

It was June, the weather balmy and Anya was beautiful, but that didn’t matter because I was drowning in my own grief.

Anya wasn’t meant to be my saviour.

I wasn’t meant to be hers.

A perfect summer, an idyllic island, a stream of stolen nights.

All bandaids on an open wound.

If we were going to live again, she deserved more than the fractured shards of the broken creature I’d become.

She deserved love.


Endless Blue Seas is a standalone summer romance, guaranteed to melt your heart and other items.



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  1. Williams (Goodreads) - “This is a beautifully written story about love, loss, grief and hope.”


Lauren Hutchinson (Goodreads) - “This is such an emotional story about loss, grief and love. It is so beautifully written and handles the story in such a perfect way.”


Debra Phiri (Goodreads) - “Annie Dyer has a true gift for story telling. This story to me is so different from her other work but in the best way.” 



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Release Blitz: Everlasting Connections (Twisted Connections #1) by Meghana Sarathy with a giveaway and excerpts


Everlasting Connections

Series: Twisted Connections #1

by Meghana Sarathy


Genre: Second Chance/Contemporary Romance


Release: July 28, 2019







Sabrina was my childhood friend. My first crush. My first mistake was leaving her behind. I had crushed her heart, unaware of the feelings she harbored for me. And twenty years is a long time to hold onto that grief. Now I'm back in Seattle and like fate has it, we meet again. 


She might not have been my first kiss or love but I want her to be my soul-mate. My life partner.I might never be able to get over my first love, but I want Sabrina to complete me and be my new beginning.

I wish to be her knight in shining armor, saving her from the shackles of a broken marriage. A real father for her daughter, Clara. 


But I have fucked up too many times in the past. She won't trust me with her heart again. I can come close to being her friend but nothing more....

When have I ever given up, though? I try not to play unfair this time, but with Linden guiding me with his twisted antics (He stole my first love - My Gem from me or maybe it was me who first tried to snatch her from him - either way Gem is his now and he's just returning the favor), I might actually make Sabrina fall for me.

As Brandon, I can just be her best friend, but as 'Scott' (Her anonymous on-line friend), I will gain her trust and woo her. No matter whom she chooses, she will end up with me and I will be everything she wants and asks for. 


Twisted Connections is a Spin-Off of Love Connection Series. Every book in Twisted Connections can be read as a standalone. (It's NOT necessary to read Love Connection Series before reading this book)



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Excerpt #1



Keeping the towel aside, I cup her cheeks and tip her chin, making her look into my eyes. “Yes. If going back in time meant I would get another chance with you, I would in a heartbeat.” Absolute silence again as she studies me, searching for any hints of a lie. “But I also know that’s not how real world works. I’ll have to prove my every word to you and deem myself as worthy in your eyes. And given a chance, I’ll do it, Ri. You’ve no idea just how badly I want to.”


“I never pegged you as a badass.” A vibrant smile cracks through her face. “But you did look mighty fine beating his ass, and all for me. Despite how ugly the situation was, it made me feel good, proud and happy even.”


“Oh baby, you’ve seen nothing yet. I can be a really cool superhero, or even a totally badass antihero. You get to make the choice.” Her breaths quicken as I see the first hints of real desire eroding her cheeks, adding another layer of glow and radiance. “I’ve so much to offer you. You’ve no idea.”


Clutching my collar, she pulls me closer, our breaths imbibing with our scents. “Show me, what I’m missing out on, Brandon. Show me what you can do to me. What you can make me feel.”


“Do you have any idea what you’re asking for?” I really hadn’t anticipated everything to escalate this quickly between us. In fact, I had stopped dreaming of getting physical with her and yet here we are in her kitchen, with our bodies just inches away, acutely aware of what might follow. So much can change within a span of an hour….and it seems my wish just came true.


“Give me a hint,” she smirks, naughtiness gleaming in her eyes.


She need not have to say it twice. I don’t know what state of mind she’s in, but if she wants physical intimacy to alleviate her senses, then I’m more than happy to deliver. Swooping my mouth down, I capture her lips with mine. She is shy, unsure, but I can still feel the eagerness in the way her lips slant against mine, following my lead, yet trying to surprise me. “Ri,” I whisper against her mouth. “Let me in.” It’s my most desperate plea ever. Her eyes widen in delight as she concedes. She barely parts her lips as I slip my tongue inside, finally tasting her. Since the time I met her again, I’ve racked my brain to remember what touching and tasting her felt like. But the memory serves no justice to what kissing her for real actually feels like. It brings the feel of finally stepping into the bright, sunny, outdoors after waiting out a heavy storm. The satisfaction of witnessing the watered and fertilized soil nurturing a sown seed. Th pleasant warmth brought by seeing the sunflowers blooming and opening under the sun, swaying in the cool breeze and spreading joy all around. She is life and hope all bundled into a package of shy yet curious lips. Fuck. I always knew I was gone for, but this one kiss sealed the deal for good. 


Excerpt #2:



Standing right in front of me, he grins and throws his arms around me, taking me in for a hug. I expect to flinch by his touch, but I don’t. I’m as still as a statue. His closeness comforts me in ways I can’t even express, but I don’t want it to. After ditching me all those years ago, he doesn’t get to come back and expect things to fall right back into place. I won’t ever let that happen. He doesn’t deserve that chance and I don't deserve another heartbreak.

“I missed you, Rina. I really did,” He tells against my hair.

For one whole second, I let my emotions slip, and smile against his chest. But the very next second when I’m about to push him back, he beats me to it. 

“Your hair color sucks.” I gasp and shove him hard.

He retreats, still grinning from ear to ear.

“You can’t be serious,” I exclaim.

“I am,” he tells very seriously, a frown lining his face. “Strawberry blonde, really? You were a brunette, Rina. No wonder I couldn’t recognize you.”

“Stop making excuses.” He throws me a challenging stare, waiting for my answer. “My husband wanted me to try this color and he loved it.” I absentmindedly run my hands along my hair. Though it’s a very nice color, I always liked my natural color. But after getting used to this, I didn’t feel like changing at all.

He doesn’t flinch at the mention of my husband, but he continues to regard me with a scowl. “I’m not sorry to say this but your husband is definitely blind.”

“Beauty lies in beholders’ eye, Brandon. Just because you don’t like it, doesn’t make him blind,” I rebuke.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s not about beauty. He’s blind to not see that this is not what you want. He was blind to not have seen how much you liked your natural hair.”

How can he be so ignorant and yet so right? He saw right through me in a single minute whereas even after many years of living together with James, he couldn’t understand such a simple thing.

“Ex-husband,” I admit in a small voice.

His lips upturn and a bright smile adorns his face.

“So, is your current husband blind too?” he asks with a frown.

“I don’t have one,” I snap, and his face actually glows now.

“Then it’s high time you fix an appointment with the parlor,” he orders.

I bite back a witty response and just walk past him. Talking to him more will either infuriate me or make me like him more and I don’t want to feel either of the two emotions.


Author Bio:

Meghana Sarathy is from Bangalore, India. She is an avid reader and also a writer.  She mainly reads and writes Adult and New Adult romance, as well as dark and psychological thrillers. She has a special affinity towards love triangles and angst filled -stories. Her all time favorite characters are her very own characters- Jennifer, Brandon and Linden. She tends to fall hard for boys who are either cocky, good flirts and total charmers.

She spends most of her free time reading, writing or watching anime. Depending on her mood, she tends to write two to three books at a time. She is a crazy fan of Dragonball Z and can be seen watching the episodes in repeat. Vegeta is her all time favorite anime character.


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Release Blitz: Proper Impulse (Jaded Lily Book 4) by Zeia Jameson


Proper Impulse

Series: Jaded Lily Book 4

by Zeia Jameson


Genre: Contemporary Romance Standalone


Release Date: July 25, 2019






Milo Cipriani is as straight laced as they come. Being a police officer doesn't afford room for anything but upholding the law to the fullest extent. There are no blurred lines between right and wrong. Milo always does what's right. 


Juniper Jensen has a passion for helping those who can't necessarily help themselves. Sometimes in a way that isn't exactly legal. There is no harm in it as long as it's for a good cause. Humanity is above the law. Juniper fights for that humanity.


What happens when the person who is doing everything all wrong is the most perfect person for you? 



Buy Links: Kindle Unlimited 

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In The Series: Kindle Unlimited

Proper Irish (Jaded Lily #1)

Proper Ink (Jaded Lily #2)

Proper Christmas (Jaded Lily #3)

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Author Bio:

Zeia Jameson's passion for writing compels her to get into the zone and type until her fingers go numb. When not submerged within her own stories, she enjoys curling up in her large reading chair, snuggling underneath a blanket, and feeding her addictions of coffee and reading. She is fond of humor and laughter and believes these are elements that keep the world sane and spinning.

Zeia lives in Georgia with her husband and daughter, where they spend most of their time exploring recipes, binging on Netflix, drawing chalk-art on sidewalks, and avoiding pollen at all costs.


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Cover Reveal and Preorder: Beneath London's Fog by Iona Caldwell



Beneath London's Fog 

by Iona Caldwell


Genre: Horror/Thriller





"I want it known before this tail begins, I am not the hero but the villain."

Jonathan is the immortal master of Raven Hollow Manor - a decrepit mansion riddled with superstition, murder and restless ghosts. Beneath it lies a restless malice.


Its previous owner driven mad, violently kills his guests with a rusted ax, creating the perfect venue for Jonathan to seclude himself in a prison of his own device.


When the streets of London begin to run red with blood; the bodies exhibiting disturbing signs and baffling wounds, the identity of the killer remains elusive to police.


The bodies are just the beginning of Jonathan's troubles. A mysterious letter accusing Jonathan of committing the murders appear, raising suspicion in the police. Hidden beneath the mangled bodies, Jonathan soon realizes he is being forced to face demons he thought died in a forlorn past he attempted to escape. 


One thing Jonathan knows for certain: He must deal with the demons of his past if he is to survive his future. Not only him but those he has come to love as well.




My name is Iona Caldwell. I'm the author of the British Occult Fiction, Beneath London's Fog set to be published by FyreSyde Publishing October 2019. When I'm not busy weaving worlds of the arcane and dark, I'm spending time out in nature. I love books. My biggest inspirations are H.P Lovecraft, Stephen King, Neil Gaiman and Edgar Allen Poe. I blog about many things but mostly everything bookish. 

All of my novels are stand-alone novellas, each with a cast of people I hope my readers will come to love as much as I have.






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