Wicked Games by Nancy Brown blitz with giveaway
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Wicked Games
Nancy Brown
(Wicked Series, #1)
Publication date: February 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Thriller
Wicked: Evil, Naughty. Games: To play or manipulate based on skill, strength or luck.
One Woman. Two men. A race against the clock.
The Players:
Avery Carmichael is a brilliant criminal attorney. She is also the daughter of Jonathan Carmichael, the current mayor and future governor of NYC. She hates games and she doesn’t have time for romance. She is running scared from the only man in her life. She calls him Tic Toc and he wants her dead. Her only objective is to survive.
Liam Sanders is tall, dark and deadly handsome. He’s also the twin brother of Luke Sanders and the newest member of Cross Security. He has a job to do. He doesn’t have time for distractions. But just one look at Avery Carmichael and his game plan changes. He wants her and he’ll do whatever it takes make her his.
Tic Toc is a man who loves games. He’s also a sociopath who communicates through cryptic notes, dead roses and crippling fear. He’s bitter and angry and nothing will stop him from achieving his goal. He’s set the timeline for the game to playout. When the game ends…so will Avery Carmichael’s life.
The stakes are high. Each player has their own set of rules. Time is ticking down.
Who will win and who will lose.
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Author Bio:
Nancy Carolyn Brown is an author of contemporary romance, fond of writing love stories about hunky badass men endowed with massive hearts, and strong heroines with just the right mix of sweet and sass… flaming hot chemistry and thrilling nail biting suspense is always guaranteed!
She loves cosmos and chocolate and a swoony good book with a strong storyline.
She lives in sunny southern Alberta, Canada with her high school sweetheart husband and naughty Bengal cat. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys the simple things in life like spending time with family and friends, reading and running with her favorite playlist blasting in her ears.
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The Italian Holiday by Nicole Sharp blitz with giveaway
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The Italian Holiday
Nicole Sharp
Publication date: February 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
Struggling writer Keats McCall is Italy bound by Valentine’s Day – but it’s certainly not for amore. She needs to escape her mindless barista job, the four walls of the rented room closing in on her, and the memories of last year’s disastrous break-up. Thank the Roman gods she can pack a bag and passport and run to her sister in Florence, Italy, in the hopes of getting her life back on track.
Keats expected to spend her days meandering through the rain-soaked cobblestone streets of Florence. What she didn’t expect was Lorenzo, who smells of espresso, Italian history and self-assurance, to propel her on an unimaginable journey.
From Florence to Venice, Keats basks in a luscious exploration of Italy and Lorenzo while she tries to figure out if the escapist mindset of an Italian Holiday can duct tape her life back together.
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EXCERPT:
A soft knock at my door was accompanied by Lorenzo’s deep voice, “Principessa?”
The endearment floated through the wood and twirled around me. I gave it an overdramatic swat on my way to the door.
“I don’t think you should call me that…” I said as I partially opened the door, however the conviction behind the words trailed off as I took in the man standing before me.
Lorenzo shouldn’t still be shocking. His cleanly shaved bald head shouldn’t be attractive. The light shadow of beard on his chin, the way his amber eyes lit up. Those shoulders, whose mass I was now too keenly aware of, shouldn’t send a tingle to my fingertips. Fingertips that suddenly had a mind of their own, and were deeply curious of how said muscles would feel beneath them.
Lorenzo’s appeal reminded me of the early days with my ex; how his attention and smile distracted me, caught me in his net. And that worried me.
The attraction to Alec had morphed and twisted; breaking me. A feeling I had almost eradicated from most of my body, but some of it still lingered in the marrow of my bones.
And here was Lorenzo, a landscape of emotional landmines.
I hugged the door, trying to keep the bulk of my body behind it; trying to keep something tangible between us.
“Why shouldn’t I call you la mia principessa?” His voice lowered as he asked the question.
Come on, man.
“Cuz it’s too…sexy.” The words barely out, I turned to get my shoes, coat, scarf and bag.
Lorenzo settled himself against the door jamb and I heard the smile in his voice as he asked, “How sexy?”
“Don’t get yourself all worked up, it was really just an observation,” I muttered as I finished getting ready. “Where are we going?”
“Lunchtime,” he replied.
I nodded as I added a notebook and new wallet to my bag before zipping it and slipping it on my shoulder.
“Do you like the room?” He asked.
“Eh.” I shrugged.
Lorenzo straightened and looked around, searching for what could be wrong. “Do you want to switch?”
“Are you serious?” I laughed.
“If you don’t like the room…” he offered.
Did he really think I didn’t like this room? “You know the room is gorgeous. I love this room.” I looked around and then wondered if his room was better. “How’s your room?”
“Similar, but perhaps you should come see for yourself?”
I grunted at the comment laced with innuendo.
He held the door for me and as I passed, he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. I glanced up at him with a slight frown and a warning in my eyes. I wasn’t ready for this dance yet. I wasn’t ready for the random brush of his hand against mine, for the stolen kisses, for the sexy, effortless flirting. I wasn’t ready for how good it felt to be pressed against him.
But still, I gave in and remained still, locked in his orbit for several long breaths. Our inhales and exhales became shallower. He was as excited as I was, evident from the tightening of his arms around my waist. He moved his head toward mine, a slight almost imperceptible move, but it was there. He was there for the taking. If I wanted to meet him halfway.
I pushed against his chest with my hands, ending the moment.
He let go and I slid down his body to reach the earth once again. When had my feet abandoned me?
I opened my mouth to say something, but what? My only defense was to turn and walk away. Marie’s stupid words of not overthinking things made my feet stumble. Part of me wanted to turn back around and kiss him and push him into the room and find out if that bed was as soft as the sofa and if he was as warm and hard as I predicted. The other part wanted to keep moving forward until I could break free into a run and find the next train back to Florence.
“We’ll ride the funicular. It will take us up the hill to la Città Alta. The station for it is close by.” Lorenzo fell into step next to me as he pulled on a beanie and wound his scarf around his neck.
I veered toward the stairs rather than the elevator, because there was no way I was about to get into a phone booth sized elevator where he might be tempted-
Keats, get into the elevator!
I took the stairs.
Author Bio:
Legend has it that Nicole Sharp was born to hippies during an ice storm in Stone Mountain, Georgia. While confirmation of said events cannot be agreed upon, one fact is for certain, it was a Tuesday.
By age twelve, Nicole was sure of two things: 1) She wanted to be a writer and 2) She wanted to travel. She begged her parents to allow her to voyage alone to exotic lands. They permitted her to go from California to Boise, Idaho to visit a great-grandmother.
After muddling through the college years, Nicole graduated with a Bachelors in History (think Greeks and Romans). Why didn’t she major in English if she wanted to be a writer? There were better stories in history class.
Nicole is Italian. According to Ancestry.com it’s a rather low percentage, but she feels that she is at least 51% Italian. When she returned to the homeland, she fell in love with the Italian cappuccino, so much so that she studied the language until she was fluent; thus she could order the magical elixir herself: Posso avere un cappuccino, per favore!
Nicole’s first concert was to see the bluegrass group The Seldom Scene when she was a fifteen-year-old, thanks to her parent’s bluegrass phase. However, she never admits it, and instead tells everyone that They Might Be Giants, whom she saw in college, was her real first concert.
Her first car was a yellow Chevy Celebrity and her favorite job was working as a docent in a museum in an old mining town in Colorado. She has written extensively about both.
Visit NicoleSharpWrites.com for more entertainment.
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Cover Reveal: Acing the Game by Carey PW
Acing the Game
Carey PW
Publication date: February 10th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance
Is food really the way into a person’s heart?
Shep Lee thought he had it all. A successful restaurant, a loving husband who understood his asexuality, and most of all, the ability to be himself, a popular chef in the small town of Cloverleaf, Montana. That is, until his husband, Elmer Eshler, began pushing Shep more on sex.
Elmer doesn’t understand why he can’t turn his partner on—aren’t they perfect for each other? And Shep loves him, right? Shep, meanwhile, while confident with his body, is and forever will be sex indifferent. Why has Elmer suddenly changed his tune? But he doesn’t want to lose the man he loves so much. What can they do?
Shep convinces Elmer to try a polyamorous relationship. Elmer gets to have Shep and the sex life he’s always wanted. Shep gets a cooking buddy and a chance to experience a relationship and even try sex with a woman as his authentic gender. At first, Shep isn’t sure, but finds himself coming around—this feels safer than opening up the relationship. All three of them will be romantically involved, so that should ease any jealousy, right?
But when Willow Saint, a free-spirited, boisterous, and saucy young woman, comes into their lives, neither are prepared for the emotional and sexual rollercoaster that follows. Enthralled by Willow’s charm and kindness, Elmer and Shep struggle to understand what this means for their own bond. Can they become one happy family? Or will this ruin everything?
Author Bio:
Carey PW (he/they) is an author, college instructor, and mental health counselor.
Carey currently lives in Montana, and identifies as nonbinary, transmasculine (AFAB) and panromantic asexual. Carey has discovered that writing about his lived experiences is a therapeutic outlet for him and hopes that his readers relate to his own personal struggles and triumphs shared through his characters ’narratives. He has also worked as a high school and college writing instructor, earning a B.A. in English Literature, a M.Ed. in English Education, and Ph.D. in Social Foundations of Education all from the University of Georgia. In 2020, Carey earned his second M.Ed. in Counselor Education and works as a licensed clinical professional counselor, LCPC.
Readers can learn more about Carey from his blog, http://www.careypw.com. When he is not writing, Carey is busy training for marathons, parenting his six cats, sharing his culinary talents on social media, and serving on the board for the nonprofit Center for Studies of the Person (CSP).
Carey PW loves to hear from readers. You can find his contact information, website and author biography at http://www.extasybooks.com.
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Code Name Sapphire by Pam Jenoff Blog Tour
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Title: Code Name Sapphire
Author: Pam Jenoff
Publisher: Park Row
Publication Date: February 7, 2023
Page Count: 369
About the book:
A woman must rescue her cousin’s family from a train bound for Auschwitz in this riveting tale of bravery and resistance during World War II
1942. Hannah Martel has narrowly escaped Nazi Germany after her fiancé was killed in a pogrom. When her ship bound for America is turned away at port, she has nowhere to go but to her cousin Lily, who lives with her family in Brussels. Fearful for her life, Hannah is desperate to get out of occupied Europe. But with no safe way to leave, she must return to the dangerous underground work she thought she had left behind.
Seeking help, Hannah joins the Sapphire Line, a secret resistance network led by a mysterious woman named Micheline and her enigmatic brother Matteo. But when a grave mistake causes Lily’s family to be arrested and slated for deportation to Auschwitz, Hannah finds herself torn between her loyalties. How much is Hannah willing to sacrifice to save the people she loves? Inspired by incredible true stories of courage and sacrifice, Code Name Sapphire is a powerful novel about love, family and the unshakable resilience of women in even the hardest of times.
Find this book online:
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Excerpt:
Micheline
February 1942
Micheline threw the still-smoldering Gauloises cigarette to the ground and crushed it with the high heel of her black leather boot. Then she marched across the darkened Paris street and grabbed the man she’d never seen before by the lapels, throwing him back against the stained brick wall of the station.
“Kiss me!” she ordered in English, whispering tersely.
The airman, his crew cut a dead giveaway despite his French civilian clothing and chapeau, stood motionless, too surprised to move as Micheline reached up and pulled him toward her, pressing her open mouth against his. His musty scent was mixed with a hint of tobacco. The streetlight cast a yellow pool on the pavement around them, illuminating their embrace. Micheline felt the man’s body responding against her own. The navy beret which covered her red curls tilted off-center, threatening to fall to the ground.
A second later, Micheline broke away and brought her mouth close to his ear. “If you hope to live, follow me.” Without another word, she started away down the Rue des Récollets. She sensed the one-two beat as he hesitated, followed by the rapid pattern of his footsteps against the icy pavement. She strained hard to make sure she did not hear anyone else following them but did not dare to look back.
Micheline slowed, allowing the airman to catch up. When he reached her, she moved closer, linking her arm in his and tilting her head toward his shoulder. Anyone watching would have thought them just a smitten couple.
Micheline had spotted the airman a few minutes earlier, standing on the pavement outside the Gare de l’Est, a half kilometer from the intended rendezvous spot, looking out of place. It was always that way with the Brits, scared and barely out of school. The passeur, a girl from Brittany called Renee, was supposed to escort the airman. Her instructions had been simple: deliver the soldier to the Hotel Oud-Antwerpen, where a local contact would take him and hide him for the night. But Renee had never shown. Something must have gone wrong and she’d panicked and fled, leaving the airman alone.
Another ten minutes outside the station and the police would have picked him up. There was already a gendarme at the corner, watching the solider too steadily. That might have been what spooked Renee. Micheline, who was in Paris on an unrelated errand but was aware of the planned pickup, had seen the stranded airman by the station and knew she had to intervene. But Micheline had no way to lead him away on the open street without attracting attention. So she had resorted to The Embrace.
It was not the first time she had feigned passion in the service of the network. The Sapphire Line, as it was now called, had formed almost immediately after the war started. They had a singular purpose: ferrying downed British airmen from the Dutch or German borders across Belgium and occupied France to freedom. This was the hardest part of the journey, getting the airmen across Paris from Gare de l‘Est where they arrived to Gare d’Austerlitz where they would set out for points south. It was a few days across France to the Pyrenees, with only a brief stop or two for rest. When the line worked, it was brilliant. But when it failed, catastrophe. There were no second chances.
When they were several blocks from the station and out of sight of the policeman, Micheline pulled the airman into a doorway. He looked as though he expected her to kiss him again. Instead, she adjusted his chapeau in the classic French style so as not to give him away as a foreigner. The disguise, consisting of secondhand, outdated trousers and a too-large shirt, would not fool anyone. And if the clothes did not give him away, his tattered army boots certainly would. He would be forced to take those off farther south anyway. The evacuees tied their shoes around their necks and replaced them with alpargates, the strong laced sandals necessary for crossing the Bidasoa River into Spain.
“Where are you from?” Micheline demanded. She hated to speak aloud out here, but she had to verify that he was actually an airman and not a German spy before taking him to one of their safe houses. If the line was infiltrated even once, it would spread like a cancer, and the entire network would be gone.
The airman paused, his trained instinct not to answer. “Ely in Cambridgeshire.”
“What is the most popular movie in Britain right now?”
He thought for a second. “49th Parallel.”
“Good. What type of plane were you flying? How many men?”
“Halifax. Six. I don’t know if the others made it.” There was a choke in his voice.
“I’m sorry.” There were a half-dozen other questions she wanted to ask to verify his identity, if only there was time. But they had to keep moving. “Come.”
She started walking again more briskly now, savoring the familiar surge of adrenaline that rushed through her as she led the airman to safety. Though just twenty-three years old, Micheline had risen quickly to the top of the network, and she seldom got to undertake rescues herself anymore, instead overseeing operations from her headquarters in Brussels. But the job was fluid and changing. Sometimes, like now, when the mission called for it and there was no one else, she had to jump in. She had nearly forgotten how much she liked being in the field.
As the bell of the church of Saint-Chappelle tolled eleven, Micheline calculated mentally, judging the best way to protect the airman for the night. They had already missed the rendezvous with the contact at the hotel who would have hidden him. Paris was the most dangerous segment of the escape line, but it was often necessary because so many of the trains ran through the French capital. An airman could not simply be dropped at Gare de l’Est and expected to make his way across the city to the southern stations where the trains left for Lyon or Marseilles. No, he had to be individually ferried through the back streets and alleys by someone who knew the city and how to avoid the security checkpoints, and who spoke impeccable French in case they were stopped and questioned.
When they reached the banks of the Seine, Micheline led the airman across the Pont au Change and into the shadowy alleyways of the Left Bank, clinging to the shadows. The cafés were already closed, barkeepers turning chairs onto tables, snuffing out the candles that burned low. She forced herself to walk at a normal pace and not to run. Her close-fitted trench swished smartly below her knees. She looked to the passersby like she belonged in the throngs of students who frequented the Latin Quarter.
Thirty minutes later they reached the safe-house apartment on Rue de Babylone. Micheline took the airman’s hand and led him up the stairs to the apartment, a room which was bare except for a mattress and a weathered armoire and a sink in the corner. He would stay no longer than twelve hours in the city, just enough time to rest and carry on.
Inside, the airman looked weakened and confused. “We went down quickly after we were shot,” he offered, saying too much, as they all did. “They hit the fuel tank.”
“Are you wounded?”
“No. There were others, though. Someone will look for them, right?” She nodded, but it was a lie. The network could not spare the resources to go back and search for those who were wounded and presumed dead. He opened his mouth to ask something else, but she put her finger to her lips and shook her head. It was not safe to say too much anywhere, even here. The airman’s eyes widened. She had seen more than once how very afraid the young soldiers were, the ones who panicked or cried out in their sleep. They were eighteen and nineteen, not more than boys, and thousands of kilometers from home. Micheline herself was just a few years older and sometimes wondered why she could be strong when they could not.
“Empty your pockets,” she instructed firmly. There were too many times when a well-intentioned Brit carried something sentimental from home which would be a dead giveaway if he was stopped and questioned.
The airman glanced around the apartment. Then he turned back toward her hopefully, as if the kiss had been real and matters might continue here. “Did you want to…?”
Micheline stifled a laugh. She might have been offended at the overture, but he seemed so naive she almost pitied him. “Here.” She rummaged in the armoire for new clothes. Then she threw the clothes at him and gestured toward a screen that offered a bit of privacy at the far end of the room. “Get dressed.” He moved slowly, clumsily toward the divider. A tram clacked by on the street below, rattling the cloudy window panes.
A few minutes later, he reemerged in the simple shoes and buttoned shirt of a peasant farmer, an outfit that would help to get him through the south of France to the Pyrenees. She took his old clothes from him. “There’s bread in the cupboard,” she said. “Stay away from the windows, and don’t make a sound. Someone will come for you before dawn. That person will have a key. Don’t open the door for anyone.”
“Merci,” he ventured, and it seemed likely that it was all the French that he knew or understood.
“Bonne chance,” she replied, wishing him luck.
Without waiting for a response, she walked briskly from the apartment. She wondered uneasily whether he would still be safely there when the new passeur arrived to claim him for the next leg of his long journey home or whether another calamity would befall the already-struggling network.
Excerpted from Code Name Sapphire @ 2023 by Pam Jenoff, used with permission by Park Row Books.
About the author:
Pam Jenoff is the author of several books of historical fiction, including the New York Times bestsellers The Lost Girls of Paris and The Orphan’s Tale. She holds a bachelor’s degree in international affairs from George Washington University and a master’s degree in history from Cambridge, and she received her Juris Doctor from the University of Pennsylvania. Jenoff’s novels are inspired by her experiences working at the Pentagon and also as a diplomat for the State Department handling Holocaust issues in Poland. She lives with her husband and three children near Philadelphia, where, in addition to writing, she teaches law school.
Author Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Goodreads / Mailing List
Grumpy Beignet Boss by Melissa Chambers blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Grumpy Beignet Boss
Melissa Chambers
(Broussard Brothers, #1)
Publication date: February 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
He’s betrayed her before, but she won’t fall into his trap again…
After the seventh loan denial, Peyton Boudreaux knows she’ll never get the money to start her own healthy junk food restaurant in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. She’s left with no other choice than to trudge back home to New Orleans to claim her trust fund with her tail between her legs. But before the money is hers, she’s got to complete the required hours, cleaning grease traps and mopping floors at Boudreaux’s: Home of the Chocolate Hazelnut Beignet. On top of that, she must face the CEO of the dual family business – former love of her life, Braxton Broussard, Traitor. He shot her down both romantically and professionally years ago, and now he’s the one whose butt she’s got to kiss.
Not even the ten years Braxton has spent apart from Peyton have been enough to shake the brown-eyed girl from his fantasies. As much as he loves to see her dressed as a fairy, sitting in his office on Mardi Gras day, he was really hoping he could get the money back into her faux trust fund before she came home to claim it. He can’t let her know her deceased father gambled her cash away. He’s got to find another way to get her the money she’s owed. But more importantly, he’s got to work his way back into her heart, because now that she’s home, he never wants her to leave again.
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EXCERPT:
He held eye contact with her, but she was too chicken this time to be the last one to look away. She contained her grin and reached for his drink. “What’s this? Whiskey?”
“Yep. Bourbon,” he said.
She nodded. “Big boy drinks. Last time I saw you with a drink it was the King of Beers.”
She took a sip, trying like crazy to keep her face stoic while the liquor assaulted her throat. She never drank liquor.
“I still drink that, too,” he said. “What about you? What do you drink up in Manhattan?”
“Brooklyn.”
“Brooklyn,” he confirmed.
She shrugged. “Wine. Beer. Cocktail of the hour.”
He furrowed his brow. “What is that now, something with bitters or ginger beer?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re so two years ago, Braxton. It’s the Boudreaux Booty. Everyone knows that.”
A grin stretched across his face, causing her core to light up like a firecracker. “What’s in it?”
She bit her lip, looking to the sky. “Oh, a little bit of vodka, cranberry juice, OJ, and peach schnapps.”
He furrowed his brow. “I think that’s a sex on the beach.”
She put her hand to her chest. “Is it? I’ve never had that. Have you?” This cheesy flirting was so far out of the realm of the two of them, and Peyton was loving every second of it.
He chuckled, and then shrugged. “Maybe. I can’t really remember. It’s been a while since I…had a cocktail.”
She loved his implication. “Oh, yeah? I had one somewhat recently.”
He lifted an eyebrow, and she could swear his lip curled a little. “You did?”
“Yeah. In Manhattan, actually. I was there for an event. Fleet Week. I had lots of cocktails that night.”
He let out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sounds like a good time. I hope you were safe…didn’t have too many cocktails.”
“Oh, yes. I’m always safe.” She ran her finger around the rim of his glass. “But you wouldn’t know that about me. We never drank cocktails together before.”
His biceps flexed. “No, we haven’t. I’m a few years older than you, ya know.”
Her chest stung. “I do know.”
“You were never really old enough to have a cocktail with me, were you?”
She shrugged. “Depends. Sometimes people don’t wait until they’re twenty-one to have their first drink.”
He stared deep into her gaze. This time she wouldn’t have let go to save a drowning puppy.
“If we would have had a cocktail together on your prom night,” he said, “before you were twenty-one, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have been able to stop.”
She would have traded no ice cream for the rest of her life to hear those words all these years. She nudged his arm with hers. “Maybe that wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. Cocktails for months. At least until you went back to Vanderbilt and had cocktails with someone else.”
She stood close to him now, her feet inside his legs, loving using her sexuality in a way she never could have when they were younger.
He uncrossed his arms and tugged on her skirt. “Maybe I was afraid if I had cocktails with you, I’d never want to have them with anyone else.”
She closed her eyes, inhaling hard at his words, which tickled every inch of her body. She leaned in closer. “I guess that would have been hard…staying sober at Vandy for four years.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
She opened her eyes, and met his gaze, moving close to his mouth. She hovered there, their lips almost brushing. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
She stepped backward and then turned and walked toward the house.
Author Bio:
Melissa Chambers writes contemporary novels for young, new, and actual adults. A Nashville native, she spends her days working in the music industry and her nights tapping away at her keyboard. While she’s slightly obsessed with alt rock, she leaves the guitar playing to her husband and kid. She never misses a chance to play a tennis match, listen to an audiobook, or eat a bowl of ice cream. (Rocky road, please!) She has served as president for the Music City Romance Writers and is the author of the Love Along Hwy 30A series, the Before Forever series (YA), and Courting Carlyn (YA).
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