Friday, 9 February 2018

Blog Tour | Love Conquer: Battlefield of Love Book 3 by Cary Hart | The Wit & Wonder Agency

 

 Battlefield of Love Series
 Cary Hart


Love may lose the battle........ but not the war!

 Passion Creations by Mary Ruth

Contemporary Romance


Love Conquer: A Standalone Romance – (Battlefield of Love, Book #3)

When do the words "I'm sorry" mean nothing? When his words hurt more than his touch? What happens when leaving is harder than staying? 

Fear. 

The lines between right and wrong have become so blurred...accepting who you’ve become is not an option.

Shame.

Escape is the only way to fight back...finding someone willing to fight with you is something you never saw coming. 

Hope.

But before you can conquer love, you have to battle your past...





"Love Conquer is an outstanding inspired, slow-burn romance filled with heartache, passion, and raw intensity." - Christy Pastore, Author 

"This is not only a love story but a healing story." - Patti (Goodreads) 

"I have enjoyed all three books in this series but WOW this book blew me away. My favorite yet." - Heather (Amazon) 

"I love this book! It has so much depth and feeling that it grabs me from the get-go." - N (Goodreads) 

"Ah! The best one so far. A deep, emotional, touching romance that still retains the classic humour and fast-paced style we have come to know and love Cary Hart for." - Bella (Amazon) 

"From the first word, Love Conquer had me hooked & captivated! Cary Hart can express so much emotion & feeling with the written word." - Pam (Goodreads). 

“Author Cary Hart taps into human emotion in such a way that allows the reader to immerse themselves completely into the story. This is a powerful read about triumph and discovery. I highly recommend it to everyone!” – For the Love of Books & Alcohol



Love War: A Standalone Romance (Battlefield of Love, Book #1)

What happens when happily ever after isn't happy? When everything you thought you knew changes? 

Obligation...Marriage 
Betrayal...Freedom
Until him. Until her.
Second chances... 

Until them.
Deceit...Doubt. 

The past may have won the battles, but can Love win the War?




*****************


Love Divide: A Standalone Romance (Battlefield of Love, Book #2)

What happens when something you were not looking for comes along, and it's more than you ever could have imagined?

Changing you.

How do you live with yourself when you look in the mirror and don’t recognize the broken reflection staring back? Because it makes you do things that you never expected you were capable of.

Will a heart that's been torn in two pieces keep on beating? I'm about to find out.

Love Divided. The decision should be easy... it isn't.





Cary Hart hails from the Midwest. A sassy, coffee drinking, sometimes sailor swearing (Shhh… don’t tell.), wine sipping, Spotify addict, lover of all things books!

When not pushing women down the stairs in the fictional world, Cary has her hands full. She is blessed to be the sports mom of two wild and crazy, spoiled kiddos, and wife to the most supportive husband (took a few years to train). In addition to working full time, she bakes cookies on the side to fund her newly found love of writing and to keep her Sephora VIB Rouge status. The addiction is real, folks!

Believe it or not, writing was never a dream for Cary. Reading was something she never enjoyed growing up. All it took was one friend, who went MIA for a weekend on a book binge, to share her passion and loan an eBook, lighting a fire inside her. Two years, and hundreds of eBooks later, she connected with one of her favorite authors, who patiently listened to her plot ideas. Her encouragement and saying those three little words “You write it!” changed everything!

So, welcome! Hop on board, and enjoy the ride!

Newsletter – The Pulse: http://eepurl.com/cffmYX
Cary’s SweetHarts (Closed Group): https://www.facebook.com/groups/CarysSweetHarts/
Love Conquer Playlist: http://spoti.fi/2qZk1gV



Blog Tour | Hitched While Intoxicated by Florella Grant | RRR Promotion / Read Review Repeat

 


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Blog Tour: Hitched While Intoxicated
by Florella Grant


Genre: Contemporary Romance

Available Now!


What could be in the memory box that has Kimberly Davis afraid of opening it?

When Kimberly and her friends were young, they started a memory box to open once they all turned 30 years old. It's her 30th birthday, but she has a bad feeling about what's inside. Images of beer bottles, dancing with a stranger, and a bare-end walking away flash before her.

How bad can it be?

The box is finally opened. Their memories spread out in front of them, and only one last item in the box. A marriage certificate!

Oh no!

After discovering the stranger, Ryan Calvin, never annulled the impulsive marriage, Kimberly has no choice but to put an end to it. Against her brother's legal advice, Kimberly takes the divorce papers to Pottersville, Indiana.

Easy peasy, right? Not exactly!

Ryan is out of town. His brother Alex, has offered her a place to stay until Ryan's return. Alex is a single father, and generous to his guest. Oh, did I mention he's hot and Kimberly can't help but notice? She's in danger of falling for him. He's affectionately willing to catch her. What could happen when Ryan finally returns?


Excerpt

Alex didn't mean to eavesdrop but, when he passed Kimberly's room and heard her on the phone, he paused to listen. The conversation was about him. That much, he knew. He wondered what her friend suggested and wished he heard both ends of the conversation. Alex didn't have time to think about what his guest was saying because he heard her say goodbye. He quietly slipped into the living room and acted like he'd been there all night. "Hey, there you are," he welcomed her when she walked into the room. "I was just thinking about watching a movie. Care to join me?"

"Do you have popcorn?" Kimberly teased as she sat on the other end of the couch.

"Only if you help me," Alex joked. He didn't need her help in the kitchen, but the thought of them working side by side, in the small space, excited him. She poured a couple drinks while he worked his magic on the stove. As the corn popped, he turned to her and asked, "Why do you want a divorce?"

Kimberly gave him a confused look and then shrugged her shoulders. "Because we were drunk and young. I have no idea who Ryan is. How can I stay married to a stranger?"

Alex didn't say anything for a while. He put the popcorn in the bowl and seasoned it while Kimberly took the drinks into the living room. When he joined her, he continued the conversation. "I didn't mean it like that. Are you engaged or something?"

"What?" Kimberly's laugh sounded like she was nervous. "No, what makes you think that?"

"I don't know," Alex began smiling. "Isn't that what they do in movies? Girl gets engaged, finds out she's still married, and sets out to end it." She was looking at him but not saying a word. "Romantic comedies."

Kimberly couldn't keep a straight face any longer. He was being serious; thinking she was there for those reasons. She started laughing which caused him to laugh. "Nothing like that." She assured him.

"I don't believe in divorce," he told her.

"Neither do I," she said, but Alex smirked. "Under normal circumstances," she added. "Ryan and I don't know each other. It should have been annulled years ago. This is different." He reached over and tapped her knee, and nodded, letting her know that he understood.

"So, you're single?" He noticed her rosy cheeks and the way she took a deep breath. Alex felt flushed himself but had the advantage of a five o'clock shadow to hide it. When she didn't answer right away, Alex cleared his throat and said, "So what would you like to watch?"

"Sweet Home Alabama."

They laughed. Alex knew she was joking and picked something else out instead. He flipped through the options and noticed her inching her way closer to him. The thought of putting his arm around her crossed his mind, but he held back. Getting close to Kimberly would only cause trouble.

When the movie was over, Alex put the television on mute and turned towards Kimberly. "What do you do for a living?"

"Social media consultant and online management," she answered.

"What is that?" Alex knew what that was. He only wanted to listed to her sweet voice speak to him.

Kimberly stated to explain what she did but hesitated. "Wait, do you have the internet out here?"

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about, ma'am." Alex laughed and continued in a hick voice, "Around here, we rely on nosey neighbors to keep us informed of all the gossip." Then he pointed to a desktop computer and he threw a kernel of corn at her to make her laugh again.

Kimberly's face turned red once more. "What about you?" She questioned in return. "You run this farm by yourself?"

"It's a family farm," he reminded her. "When Ryan isn't here, I'm usually running it alone. Sometimes, I hire local guys to work for a few weeks at a time; usually around harvest."

Kimberly looked like she forgot about Ryan. He watched her adjust her legs as she sat on one. If he didn't know any better, Alex would think she was intrigued. "Do you have a big family?" She questioned him.

Alex frowned. "No, not anymore."


Kimberly cocked her head signaling for him to explain that. 


"Have an aunt and uncle on my father's side of the family, but they moved to Florida years ago. I rarely hear from them." He paused, figuring out what she'd like to hear. "My dad died when I was twelve. Mom, uh, just a few years ago. Remember?"


Kimberly nodded. He mentioned it the night before. "It's just you and Ariel," she said out loud without thinking.


"And Ryan," Alex reminded her with a devilish grin. His face neared her as they wrapped up the conversation. Her lips were close. It took all his strength not to lean in and kiss them.


"And Ryan," she whispered with a sense of regret in her voice.



  Follow the Author


About the Author

Born on Valentine's day, Florella Grant is a pure romantic at heart. Her first words were "happy ever after". Okay, maybe not exactly those words but she's been writing them since she was old enough to pick up a pencil. She comes from a long line of writer's, including her very distant relative, Ulysses S. Grant. Florella has been inspired by Jane Austin and Emily Bronte, but her biggest inspiration comes from the fictional romance novelist, Felicia Galant. All her life, she wanted to be Felicia, and was deeply saddened when the long running daytime drama, Another World, was canceled. Florella lives in New York and has 3 beautiful daughters.



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Blog Tour | Paperback Release: The Waking Land by Callie Bates


Hodder & Stoughton Paperback: £7.99
Publication Date: 25th February 2018

Wildegarde came bearing a flame in her heart and her hair crowned with the pale light of stars. Where she placed her feet, the earth trembled. Where she raised her hand, mountains moved.
It's been fourteen years, since King Antoine took Elanna hostage. Fourteen years since her father's rebellion failed. Fourteen years spent being raised by the man who condemned her people to misery. A man she's come to love as a father.
Now 20, Elanna is about to be taken prisoner once again... but this time by her father's mysterious righthand man.
Her father wants to reignite his rebellion, this time using Elanna as figurehead. He will tell his followers she is the legendary Wildegarde reborn, a sorceress who could make the very earth tremble.
But what no one knows is that magic really does flow through Elanna's veins. Now she must decide which side she's on, and whether she'll use her powers for mercy... or revenge.
A bold and gorgeous fantasy featuring a brilliant heroine on the cusp of womanhood, The Waking Land is the first of a trilogy that will delight fans of The Red Queen, Six of Crows, and Court of Thorns and Roses.
Magic. Adventure. Intrigue. Romance. Revolution. The first in an astonishing new trilogy, perfect for fans of Leigh Bardugo and Sarah J. Maas.

Excerpt:
Prologue 
I felt safe that night in Laon, safer than I had any night before in the city. My nurse and I were eating dessert in the nursery. I never knew her name; I called her Nursie. Downstairs my parents were hosting a dinner party. It was the first time I had ever been in Laon, in the townhouse my family kept for state occasions, aired out only once every year or two. On the newly crowned king’s invitation, we’d come south for the Harvest Feast from our country house in the north, and every noise of the city still seemed foreign. So that must have been why we didn’t hear them at first: the screams, the clicks as the muskets caught. I remember cradling my wooden doll, a Harvest Feast gift from my parents, made by a wood-carver in the city. I was feeding her pretend bites of the caramel pudding the servants had brought up earlier, baked in a dish until the sugar on top was crackling hot. Nursie drew the chintz curtains over the wide, sashed windows. My doll and I sat snug and certain in the glow of candlelight. Safe. We were supposed to go home the next day. Nursie sank down into the armchair across from us and began to tell my bedtime story—our nightly routine with its well-worn words—and I chimed in on my favorite parts. “Wildegarde came, bearing a flame in her heart and her hair crowned with the pale light of stars. Where she placed her foot, the earth trembled; when she raised her hand, mountains moved.” A burst of voices echoed from downstairs. Nursie stopped midword, her hands braced on the arms of the chair. Her lips were parted.

 I giggled, then stopped. Her fear breathed out like a living thing. Beneath us, the house shook down to its foundation. Floorboards squeaked outside the nursery door. Nursie was on her feet before I was aware of her moving, a gilthandled butter knife in her hand. Her cheeks went scarlet, but her lips were pressed together into a grim line. Her eyes were fixed on the door. More footsteps squeaked in the corridor. “El,” Nursie said in a tight, contained voice, “do you remember Brigit?” Brigit: my ancestor, who hid beneath her bed when the Ereni soldiers came to kill her. I slid out of my chair, trying to find my slippers with my bare feet. I was wearing a nightdress, a new one Mother had made for me, white, with ruffles cascading down the front. The door flew open. Men tramped in: big men in blue coats with bayonets strapped around their backs. The royal guard. Nursie lashed out, catching a man in the face. He staggered back. “Brigit!” Nursie shouted. I finally understood. I leapt for my bed, scrabbling at the frame so I could crawl under the embroidered cream skirt, but a hand tore into my hair from behind me until the roots screamed, and then I was flying up, my feet kicked out from under me, the breath knocked out of my body as I landed on a man’s high shoulder. My doll fell; his boots crushed it. I tried to scream but no sound came out. Nursie was screaming—terrible, bone-shaking screams. I couldn’t lift my head around high enough to see her. My heartbeat pounded between my chest and the man’s shoulder. I had to be like Brigit, I had to do something, but I could think of nothing. “Caerisian bitch,” another man shouted, and an enormous noise exploded through the room, leaving shards of sound ringing in my ears. The acrid smell of gunpowder tainted the air. Nursie was no longer screaming. I glimpsed her as the man holding me began to walk out of the room. She sagged on the flowered carpet, her face remade in blood that looked black in the dark shadows near the floor. The man with the pistol—still smoking—stepped over her legs to throw open the wardrobe door. Then we were out of the room, in the corridor. The scream that had been building in my chest burst out as a shrieking gasp.

 The soldier shook me as if to knock me quiet and we jolted down the stairs, my head jostling. Though I knew I was supposed to fight, I didn’t dare move. What if he killed me, too? We reached level ground, and I reared up enough to see the side tables in the lower hall swinging by. The carpet changed to neat, checkered parquet, covered in a snowfall of crushed glass. “Elanna!” My mother. The soldier swung me down, gripping me by the neck, and I saw her on the other side of the long polished table. In the tableau of dinner guests, frozen behind their chairs with their hands raised, she was the only person who moved. Then the guard squeezed my neck and I saw my mother stop. I saw her lower her hands, but her eyes did not leave me. The soldier then twisted me the other way, to face the two men who stood to my left: my father, and the new king of Eren, Antoine Eyrlai. We’d come here for his coronation before the Harvest Feast—a solid month of parties I was too young to attend and ceremonies I found bewildering. And now the king, his wig askew, was pointing a pistol at my father. I gasped again, too horrified to scream. My whole body was trembling. The day before, when the king made our carriage go last during the Harvest Feast procession even though my father was the Duke of Caeris and should have been second after the king, I knew I hated him for embarrassing my family. Now he’d sent the men who killed Nursie. And he was pointing a gun at my father. Papa didn’t look afraid, though. He looked angry. And it gave me courage. “Don’t you hurt my papa!” I shouted at the king. Everyone seemed to turn at once. They were all staring at me— including the king. His rage stood out around him, an inhuman thing. In one powerful step, he crossed the room, seized me in his arms—I inhaled the sweaty, perfumed odor of him—and jammed the cold hard end of the pistol against my temple. I gasped. A hot trickle ran down the inside of my thigh. I smelled the gunpowder from my nursery. I saw Nursie fallen on the floor, the blood black on her face. “Well?” the king said to my father. Papa stood there with his hands open.

 The anger was gone. He looked defeated. Broken. “Don’t kill my daughter.” He stammered the words. I thought he was going to fall to his knees. I thought he was going to beg. The trickle of urine reached my toes and dripped to the carpet. A crushing shame welled up in me—for myself, for my father and mother, for my dead nurse. Into the silence, as all the adults were waiting for the king to speak, I began to cry. The pistol jabbed into my temple. “Stop that,” the king commanded. His wig swung against me as he looked at my father. “You’re lucky, Ruadan. Your pretender king hasn’t yet landed on Eren’s shore, so I don’t have the evidence to condemn you. I could still have you executed without trial—it would be nothing more than you deserve—but I’m going to be merciful.” He pressed the gun harder into my skin, the lace on his cuff tickling my cheek. I squirmed against him. I didn’t want to die like Nursie, crumpled like my doll on the floor. “Get out of this house,” the king ordered. “Get out of Laon. Go back to Cerid Aven and your Caerisian backwater. And if I ever hear you’ve set foot outside its property, I’ll have the child eliminated, and you will be put on trial.” He paused, then added, “And you won’t be acquitted.” He shoved me off into the soldier’s arms. “In the meantime, she’ll be well treated, provided you don’t make any further attempts to ruin my country. Take her outside.” As I was marched off, I looked back for my mother, but the soldier’s head blocked my view. The courtyard was wet and blustery and dark. Horses stamped and snorted. The soldier set me on the ground while he talked to another man holding the horses—“The girl’s to be a hostage”—and I looked back at the light spilling from the house, waiting for my mother to come after me, to crush me in her arms and sing our song into my ear, to tell me Nursie wasn’t dead and we were going home tomorrow. She didn’t come. Nor did my father. Instead the king came, with the rest of his guards. I was made to walk across the streets to the palace, a barefoot girl in a soiled nightdress, the cold cobblestones burning my feet. 

Here are the other Blog Tour stops you can visit 


About Author

Photo Credit: Jim Schumaker 

Callie Bates is a writer, harpist and certified harp therapist, sometimes artist, and nature nerd. When she's not creating, she's hitting the trails or streets and exploring new places. She lives in the Upper Midwest USA. THE WAKING LAND is her debut Fantasy novel.

Thursday, 8 February 2018

Release Blitz | Heartbreak Warfare Let Me In Book 1 by Jessica Marin | Bookworm Promotions

***Release Blitz***

#NewRelease #NewAuthor #HeartbreakWarfare
#OutNow #JennaAndCal #JessicaMarin #TBR

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HeartbreakWarfare_Ebook    

***SYNOPSIS***

 
Jenna Pruitt has thrown herself into her business in an attempt to ignore the pain from her failed marriage.
Her plan is working until she spends a steamy week in Las Vegas with the one man that could destroy everything she has built – including the wall around her heart.
She has no time for the likes of the sinfully gorgeous movie star Cal Harrington, who knows all the right thing to say and has all the right moves. But even Jenna can’t ignore the fire he ignites in her.
One week. That was the plan, but fate has a funny way of bringing people back into your life when you least expect it.
Jenna doesn’t want anything to do with the scrutiny of Hollywood, the paparazzi, or the heartache she knows is sure to come. She doesn’t WANT Cal Harrington….at least that’s what her brain screams at her heart every time he burns her with his kisses.
With her heart and her mind battling it out, she knows she’s about to lose herself to heartbreak warfare.

  Teaser #3 - Heartbreak Warfare  

**FOLLOW JESSICA***

 

***ABOUT THE AUTHOR***

Jessica Marin began her love affair with books at a young age from the encouragement of her Grandma Shirley. She has always dreamed of being an author and finally made her dreams of writing happily ever after stories a reality. She currently resides in Tennessee with her husband, children and fur babies. When she is not hanging out with her family, she loves watching a good movie, going dancing with the ladies, sniffing essential oils and daydreaming of warm beaches, winning the lotto and world peace.

Blog Tour | The Devil has a British Accent by Z.N. Willett | The Wit & Wonder Agency


The Devil has a British Accent Book One: Jackson 
(White Carpet Series: Book 1)
ZN Willett


Release Date: 
August 6th, 2017



New-Adult | Paranormal Romance


This is no simple Hollywood story of famous boy meets ordinary girl, who then fall in love and live happily ever after.

This is about the town of dreamers and make believers; skilled at casting spells of deception and deceit. And what happens when the spell is lifted, and everything that you believe in is merely an illusion?

When the world of happily ever after is altered and obscured, and not only by one enticing man?

For Lauren Moreau, her journey is full of raw emotions that will tempt you with curiosity and intrigue, and squeeze out passion and angst until your heart bleeds.

This is Hollywood, after all...


Barnes & Noble: http://ow.ly/hlDo30ccC1w
iTunes: http://ow.ly/FLTu30ccQQz

“The Devil Has a British Accent is a coming of age romance with a paranormal twist. A girl who has to protect her heart and the men who want her.” – Romance Between The Sheets.

"I love Z.N. Willett's talented writing style, as it's highly addictive, but I never saw this one coming! To me, it makes her diabolically brilliant, and highly original!" - The Power of Three Readers

When I reached the corridor, there were several unmarked doors. I turned to go back downstairs to ask which one, but a door opened from behind. 
“Lost, love?”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Sparks of heat ignited in my chest as a slew of emotions overcame me. I spun around to see him leaned against a door. I was very aware of the scene that played out in front of me. Yet, I was frozen, trapped, as Cary searched my brown eyes. I was terrified of what he would see.
He took a step forward, and I could no longer contain my emotions.
“Cary!” I sprinted, then jumped up and threw my arms around him.
It had been a long time since I’d seen his beautiful face with those berry-colored lips that arched into a perfectly sculptured smile.
No matter how many times we saw each other, and as clichéd as it might sound, he always took my breath away. As tall and lean as he appeared, his strength was evident every time he hugged me. I couldn’t help feel his biceps curl underneath my hands.
“Laur, has it been that long?” he asked, voice muffled, face buried in my hair. 
“Two years too long.” I sniffed, breathing in his familiar, fresh scent. I loved the smell of him.
It wasn’t in a creepy way. I had a thing about scents. I could still remember what my dad’s favorite cologne smelled like.
Seconds blended into minutes as we held onto each other. For an instant, I was afraid he wasn’t real. He leaned his head back, full brows arched as those blue eyes looked at me. “You’re all grown up.”
“Thanks?”
“It’s a compliment. You don’t look like the annoying runt.”
“You are an arse.” I stressed each word. ”Thanks for ruining the moment.” I let go of him and smacked my hand on his hard chest.


ZN Willett started sharing her first contemporary romance, The Trouble with Dating a Movie Star, online. Receiving an overwhelming response of over 2 million reads, she created the Red Carpet Series. The Red Carpet Series showcased a unique perspective spotlighting Hollywood from the inside. ZN enjoys creating heroines who are strong, intelligent and true to themselves. She's a northern girl, but a southerner at heart with a deep love for all things shoes. Deep down ZN is a sappy romantic who happens to believe that love can truly conquer all.