Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Release Blitz postings for 4/4 of Flatline by Kristine Dugger, FIRST SEMESTER By Sarah Fischer, Blurred Red Lines by Cora Kenborn and The Songbird Sisters by Rachael Herron

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COVER REVEAL
FLATLINE
by
Kristine Dugger
Release Date: May 2nd
Genre: Medical Romance Comedy (Contemporary Romance)
Hosted By: Chance Promotions
Photographer: Shauna Kruse with Kruse Images and Photography
Models: Justin James Cadwel and Kristen Lazarus Wood
Cover + Teaser Designer: Jessica Hildreth




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SYNOPSIS

This is how my life goes. It’s pretty damn simple. I work with very little play. I’m an ICU Dietitian. What exactly does this mean? My career is my one true love. Nothing else compares.
Until one night, I decided to go outside my comfort zone.
A little friendly flirting turned into a night filled with want and need.
Not once did I ever think I would do something like this.
One-night stand, no strings attached.
Me leaving the next morning, hoping to never see him again.
Boy, was I wrong.
He works with me.
A fucking doctor!


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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kristine Dugger is an contemporary romance novelist who specializes in realism and whole lot of humor. She resides in Papillion, NE. Writing has always been a passion of hers. Kristine has a Master’s degree in Nutrition and Health Science from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.
She is a Pediatric Clinical Dietitian by day, Writer by night, Always a Mom. In her spare time, she enjoys spending time with her husband and two very beautiful daughters, reading, listening to music, kickboxing, exercising and playing/watching sports.
FUN FACTS ABOUT KRISTINE
  • Nutrition Nerd
  • Played Competitive slow pitch softball for 8 years
  • Heavy metal loving, tattooed mommy of two beautiful girls
  • Diehard Nebraska Cornhusker Fan / Kansas City Royal Fan
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FIRST SEMESTER
(Eton Hall Chronicles)
By
Sarah Fischer
Release Date: April 4th
Hosted By: Chance Promotions
Amazon :http://amzn.to/2oyINzg
ADD TO GOODREADS : https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34529004-first-semester


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BLURB

Violet Carrington is a freshman at Elton Hall University, but she’s about to get more than just her degree…
Throwing herself into the insanity of college life, Violet makes new friends and even catches the eye of a handsome guy. Everything is as it should be, until one night out she crosses paths with a mysterious, sinfully attractive man. Not only does he manage to ignite a burning desire deep inside her, he also happens to be her new, off-limits college professor.
Professor David Berneli is only visiting Elton Hall, but a lot can happen in a year…
Everyone knows any personal relationship between professor and student is strictly prohibited. But somewhere in between lectures and after school events, Violet manages to dazzle him. She not only challenges David at every turn, but also tempts his every desire. No matter how hard they try to ignore the crackle of sexual tension between them, a few furtive glances quickly turn into clandestine meetings in his office.
By giving in to temptation, Violet and David fall deeper down the rabbit hole…
As the semester ticks on, Violet begins to question not only the whirlwind affair that threatens to consume them both, but David’s desires as well. If he’s not willing to risk everything for her, she’ll have no choice but to leave the comfort of his arms without looking back.
Before any decision can be made, a looming threat comes out of the shadows, putting her and the passionate relationship she has with her professor in danger.
Now Violet must fight for her own life, and for the one she wants to spend it with…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sarah Fischer works hard fighting the good fight one background check at a time. But before she got into the business of being nosey, she graduated with a degree in criminal justice and married the calm to her crazy. Then she had a scary health scare and needed heart surgery. While recovering, she finally had the time to write stories filled with passionate romance. Her first book, Elton Hall Chronicles: First Semester will be published in April 2017 and book two, Second Snowfall, will be out in July of 2017. In her spare time, she manages a review blog called, A Kiss At Midnight Reviews.
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Title: Blurred Red Lines
Series: Carrera Cartel #1
Author: Cora Kenborn
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: April 4, 2017



Blurb

Sometimes, there’s nothing more deadly than sleeping with the enemy.

Eden

Meaningless flings, a steady stream of alcohol, and two dead-end jobs fill my days until my world flips upside down. In the wrong place at the wrong time, I witness a botched cartel hit, and my life is forever altered. With nothing left to lose and motivated by revenge, I vow to make those responsible always remember what I’ll never be able to forget. Then I’m kidnapped, and before I know what’s happening, I’m thrust into a long-standing cartel war as some sick consolation prize. I’ll make it out of here, and when I do, everyone from the top drug lord to the bottom-feeding trigger man will fall.

That is if I can stop myself from falling first. For him. The one I should hate myself for wanting. He’s the one that holds me prisoner, but it’s me who refuses to leave.

Valentin

My name is whispered in fear because of the ruthless reputation I’ve built for myself. Being the heir to the Carrera Cartel comes with its perks, but I’m determined to defy my legacy and do things my way. A prisoner with a temper as fiery as her hair and a rival cartel are the only things standing between me and complete domination. Murder is business in my world, but when an innocent man’s death puts a witness on my radar and in my basement, I try to convince myself I’m keeping her safe to discover her secrets. It’s a lie. I want her, and with my enemies closing in, I need her now more than ever.

This dangerous attraction between us risks both my empire and our lives. I’ve spent my life in a solitude of my own choosing, but now that I have Eden beside me, I won’t let her go. If we burn…we burn together.








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Excerpt

VAL

Returning my attention to the bar, I strained to hear her conversation with the random drunks gawking at her. Loud Mariachi music blaring in the background and annoying yells of over exuberant patrons made eavesdropping almost impossible. Trying to act bored as hell, I slipped into a seat at the end of the bar and leaned forward.

“I’ll be with you in a minute.” Tilting her chin in my direction, she kept her focus on the sugary frozen concoction she created. Puckering her red lips, she blew a piece of hair out of her face that escaped the sloppy bun on top of her head.

A sloppy, candy red bun to match candy red lips.

The kind of lips that could tell a man any lie they wanted and he’d gladly buy any shit they sold for just a taste.

My dick twitched, reminding me it’d been a few days since I’d gotten laid. It didn’t help matters Emilio found it amusing to dress the bartenders in the tiniest denim shorts he could find, with black tank tops drawn across their chests so tight that the Caliente logo disappeared under their arms.

Well played, Emilio.

I’d never been one to chase women. I didn’t have to. They fell at my feet, crawled in my bed, and blew my phone up with calls and texts I never returned. But I found myself intrigued and unable to turn away as I watched Emilio’s new bartender flip through her texts, frown, and bite her lip, smearing the bright red lipstick that still had my pants in an uproar.

I watched her eyes glaze over as she muttered something under her breath and stared at the liquor bottles in front of her. With a long, drawn out sigh, she snuck a sweeping glance around the bar. Immediately, I dropped my eyes down to my phone, suddenly engrossed in a blank screen.

Do it. Be bad.

Satisfied no one watched, she bent down and pretended to tie her shoe, taking a bottle of vodka with her to the floor. Tucked safely underneath the sink, I shifted over the bar to get a better view of the show as she reached up with a slim, milky white arm and snagged a glass. Pouring two large shots, she downed them successively, grimacing at the eighty-proof burn.

Well, damn. She just became much more interesting to me.

I arched an eyebrow and fought a smile. “Bad day?”

“Bad life,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes and licking the remaining cheap vodka off her lips. Screwing the cap back on, she pushed off her heels and slipped the bottle back onto the counter.

“I would’ve gone for the Grey Goose myself. Drinking that shit is just asking for the day to get worse.” I should’ve stopped talking. I considered small talk to be a waste of time.

She dragged the back of her hand across her mouth. “I don’t remember asking your opinion.”

“Can I get a gin and tonic, please?” A man two seats down from me wore a pissed off impatient look I didn’t care for and waved a credit card in her face. My jaw ticked, but before I could put him in his place, pale blue eyes that could start a war pinned him to his seat.

“Here,” she drawled in a marked Southern accent as she threw a basket of chips on the bar. “Fill your mouth so shit stops coming out of it. I’ll get to you in a minute.”

Normally, that’d be cause for termination, but she amused the hell out of me. I couldn’t stand weak women, and this girl had enough fire for a room full of them. Plus, the asshole had it coming. I began to understand why Emilio spent so many nights at the cantina.

Catching my eye, a wicked smirk lifted the corners of her mouth as she placed her forearms on the bar and leaned in close enough for me to catch the scent of citrus and vanilla. It was a bizarre combination that lit a heated trail straight from my nose to my cock.

“So, what is it you want?”

You. Naked and spread out on this bar.

“I doubt you could handle it.” I refused to blink, holding her stare, making sure she understood the double entendre. I wanted to push her to see how she’d react, but honestly, I knew the answer to both meanings.

Nobody had been worth a fuck yet. I didn’t see why this would be any different.

My challenge seemed to piss her off and invigorate her at the same time. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Haven’t had any complaints yet.” Spreading her fingers wide on both hands, she slid her arms out and narrowed her eyes. “Give me your best shot.”

I’d give you my worst. I’d wreck you and leave you broken.

Añejo tequila. Straight shot, in a stem glass—not a highball—room temp.” With her bizarre, intoxicating scent still fucking with my head, I realized she was knocking me off my game. I didn’t like it. So, being the ass I was, and remembering Emilio’s tendencies toward cheapness, I leaned in as well and towered over her. “And if it hasn’t aged at least three years, shove it up the owner’s ass.”

She brushed that damn stray hair out of her eye again and winked. “I’ll do my best.”

Swinging her hips all over the bar, she glanced my way a few times, making a big production of bending over unnecessarily to pick shit off the floor. More than once, I made silent deals with my cock to find it some uncomplicated pussy, if it’d calm the fuck down and stop trying to get a look at her ass too.

Before it could agree, a stem glass appeared under my nose just as I requested.

That’s a first.

Raising a questioning eye up at her, she smirked and nodded to the drink. “Well? Are you going to drink that or wait until Jesus turns it back into water?”

A full-chested laugh I barely recognized came from my mouth as I reached for the glass. “I think that was wine.”

She shrugged and waved her hand. “Whatever. Sunday School wasn’t my thing.”

As she watched me carefully, I hoped for the best and downed the shot with low expectations. The moment the liquid hit my tongue I knew I was fucked.

Dios mío, was I fucked.

By the smug look on her face, she knew it too.

Twirling the empty glass in my fingers, I studied the captivating woman with renewed interest. “How is it that you’re the only bartender in Houston who can get this drink right?”

Still grinning, she licked that damn lip again and returned the bottles to the shelf, the motion causing her tiny tank top to ride up and expose her flat stomach. “It’s not rocket science. Hell, some people would say I’m a hit or miss on making anyone happy.” Wiping down the counter, she shot me a look with untold pain hidden behind it. “Some people would even say I’ve never gotten anything right.”

“Some people don’t deserve to breathe your air.”

Fuck, I meant that. What was wrong with me?

Her face broke into the first genuine smile I’d seen from her all night not hidden behind a smirk or condescension, and my chest warmed. My fucking chest warmed, and it wasn’t from the tequila.

“So, you got a name, Danger?”

“Danger?” I tried for a flat tone, but my voice raised an octave, betraying my interest.

Damn.

“Yeah, you know…as in, tall, dark, and dangerous?” She squinted her pale blue eyes and silenced an incoming text on her phone. “You look like you could get a girl in a lot of trouble.”

I wanted nothing more than to wipe that damn grin off her face. She looked so smug. So sure I wanted her.

Fuck, I wanted her. “You have no idea.”

Moments passed between us as we stared at each other in silence. That shock of red hair grabbed my attention again, and I couldn’t help but wonder who, or what, happened in her life to cause it. Nobody just did shit like that on purpose. Candy red colored hair just didn’t happen. It pissed me off that I even gave a shit. I wasn’t a good guy. I wasn’t even a decent guy. I didn’t ask girls their names, much less their stories.

“So, that’s it?” she asked, chin tilted and one hand resting on a cocked hip.

Shit, had she been talking to me this whole time? “What’s it?” I asked, trying to force a bored look.

“You really have no name?”

I shot her a pointed look, mentally slamming the door on her inquisition. “Danger works. I like it.”

I did. I liked it too damn much. And I hated nicknames. I thought they were childish and reserved for those annoying assholes who sat on the same side of the booth at restaurants. The ones who called each other ‘honey’ and ‘baby’ and fed each other bites of their own food and switched plates in the middle of dinner.

“Of course, you do,” she snorted in an unladylike, but oddly sexy way.

The bar started to get crowded, as patrons shoved bills toward her and demanded drinks. I watched them curiously, wondering what she’d do. To my pleasure, she held up a finger to them and kept her eyes on me.

Those eyes were what did it. Those pale blue eyes that tried to hide exhaustion exposed by the dark circles under her eyes and sadness well beyond her years. They sucked me in and broke one of my cardinal rules. “What about your name?”

“Hey, what about my drink? You think you could take a break from your date over there to do your job, honey?”

Her eyes flickered relief for a moment, then darkened, becoming void of emotion. “Duty calls. Glad I could meet your expectations, Danger.” She reached for the shot glass I held, and I grabbed her hand, my out-of-character reaction surprising both of us. Hesitating a moment, she lifted her eyes and met mine in a battle of wills.

I could tell we were both at war with what would happen next; I contemplated the consequences of fucking one of Emilio’s employees. He seemed fond of this one, and the moment it was over, I’d have no choice but to have her fired.

Shifting her weight, she made the decision for both of us when she released her hand from my grip and pointed toward the douchebag two seats down, now glaring at us. “Let me know if you want another.”

As she poured the asshole that cock blocked me a gin and tonic, I pulled three, twenty-dollar bills out of my wallet and placed them face down on the bar. The exorbitant tip wasn’t a handout, as I suspected she’d think after I left. I generally enjoyed her company. Which was exactly why I had to leave and never talk to her again.

She called me dangerous. If I was dangerous, she was fucking deadly.

My life revolved around the cartel, stray pussy, and money. I had no time for complications of anything else, and candy hair was a walking, talking complication. I knew in one touch, I had no business being near her. A woman like that could cause the destruction of a man like me.

While she argued with the dickbag about the amount of gin she shorted him, I slipped around the long end of the bar, through the kitchen, and out the back door. I cut myself off like a junkie jonesing for his next hit of short shorts and a-size-too-small tank top. After tonight, I knew I couldn’t afford the distraction.

Perfect drink or not, I was done with that girl.

So, I gave my business to every other bar in Houston and walked out of them pissed off and sober as hell for two months before I caved. However, I never returned to a barstool. Always sitting at one of the tables, I allowed young, annoying waitresses to serve me while I watched her flirt with a new man month after month until it got to be too much to take and stopped going altogether.

Some women were storms who blew into a man’s life and ruined his plans for the night. That woman was a hurricane who uprooted and flooded the very foundation of everything a man thought he knew.




Author Bio

Cora Kenborn writes contemporary and romantic suspense novels with lots of danger, snarky banter, lovable bad boys, and damsels NOT in distress. She loves delving into the twisted mind of a dark villain as well as writing light-hearted romcom.

Cora gets a kick out of talking about herself in the third person and is a true Southern girl from Eastern North Carolina, who grew up on sweet tea, front porches, and the simple life. She says “y’all,” “fixin’ to,” and should you deserve it will “bless your heart.” She’s the proud mother of three hyperactive and occasionally adorable children, and wife to an understanding husband who tolerates her chaotic writer’s cave.

Although reading is her passion, she can usually be found taking notes during true crime shows, effectively freaking out everyone in the room. Cora admits to being a horrible cook, an even worse baker, and believes she’s more dangerous with a hot glue gun than any weapon on earth. Oh, and she and autocorrect are mortal enemies.



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Title: The Songbird Sisters
Series: The Songbirds of Darling Bay #3
Author: Rachael Herron
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: April 4, 2017



Blurb

A FULL-LENGTH STANDALONE, a great entry into the world of international bestseller Rachael Herron's sexy and hilarious books. 

When their world-famous band The Darling Songbirds split up acrimoniously, sisters Adele, Molly and Lana went their separate ways. A decade on, Adele and Molly have finally reconciled. However Lana has remained stubbornly estranged – until now.

Lana Darling’s bank account is finally filled to the top, thanks to the song she sold to another singer, but she’s never made it as a solo artist. Is it finally time to give it all up?

But when she heads home to Darling Bay, she has country music super-mega-star Taft Hill hot on her heels. The sexy star isn’t prepared to let her call it quits – especially when he desperately needs new songs for his album.

Lana and Taft have a history – and both have secrets to hide. But when events take an unexpected turn, will Lana choose her career or Taft? Or will she chose the long-awaited chance to get back in harmony with her songbird sisters?


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Author Bio

Rachael Herron is the bestselling author of the novels The Ones Who Matter Most (named a 2016 Editor's Pick by Library Journal), Splinters of Light and Pack Up the Moon (all from Penguin), the Darling Bay and the Cypress Hollow series, and the memoir, A Life in Stitches (Chronicle). She received her MFA in writing from Mills College, Oakland and she teaches writing in the extension programs at both UC Berkeley and Stanford. She’s proud to be a New Zealander as well as a US citizen, though her Kiwi accent only comes out when she’s very tired.



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