Release Date: October 24, 2018

Cover Design: MadHat Books

Synopsis

Very few people can say they were born inside a concentration camp during the Holocaust. Disease, starvation, and much worse, prevented most prisoners from surviving. For infants, it was nearly impossible.

I became an anomaly. I shouldn’t be alive. 

As a child, I didn’t know my life was different from that of others. I had nothing to compare it to, and I had no insight about the day I was born … until the moment I overheard the truth.

In a split second, I became a stranger to my reflection, my name, and my reason for being. I was not Annie anymore, and the people raising me were not my parents. Even the blue sky I cherished became an unfamiliar sight.

I felt utterly alone in a foreign world, but that changed when I met another person who was lost, like me. Fisher offered his hand to hold and began to prove his theory of, “When two missing people find one another, they can consider themselves found.”

Fisher enlightened me, and through him, I gained a deeper understanding of life. Now, I know there are two sides of the beautiful, blue sky. I’m on one side, and my lost loved ones are on the other, but at the end of it all, we’ll be together again under the one and only sky.

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Sunny Shelly’s Review: 5 Stars

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About the Author

Hi Everyone! I’m an indie writer of Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance, and Romantic Thrillers. Throughout the last six years of my writing journey, I’ve hit Amazon’s Top 100, Barnes & Noble’s Top 10, and iBooks at #1. Hiding in suburbia with my hubby and two wild little boys, my active imagination allows me to live life as adult with many imaginary friends.

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The first time I met Jax Blackwood things went a little sideways.

In my defense, I didn’t know he was Jax Blackwood—who expects a legendary rock star to be shopping for groceries? More importantly, a blizzard was coming and he was about to grab the last carton of mint-chocolate chip.

Still, I might have walked away, but then he smugly dared me to try and take the coveted ice cream. So I kissed him. And distracted that mint-chip right out of his hands.

Okay, it was a dirty move, but desperate times and all that. Besides, I never expected he’d be my new neighbor.

An annoying neighbor who takes great pleasure in reminding me that I owe him ice cream but would happily accept more kisses as payment. An irresistible neighbor who keeps me up while playing guitar naked–spectacularly naked–in his living room.

Clearly, avoidance is key. Except nothing about Jax is easy to ignore—not the way he makes me laugh, or that his particular brand of darkness matches mine, or how one look from him melts me faster than butter under a hot sun.

Neither of us believes in love or forever. Yet we’re quickly becoming each other’s addiction. But we could be more. We could be everything.

All we have to do is trust enough to fall.

Sunny Shelly’s Review: 5 Stars

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EXCERPT

The air between us shifts. I’m filled with a strange giddiness, wanting to laugh for the fun of it, but I’m also too warm, my limbs oddly heavy as if simple movements might be too much for me.

His tone turns soft and cajoling, teasing the truth out of me. “Are you going to tell me what you do?” When I say nothing, the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I see. You’re going to torture me a bit.”

The warm, fuzzy feeling grows as I shrug. “Torture feels apropos in this scenario.”

He hums again, taking another step toward me. “What makes you think I won’t like being tortured by you?”

The heat of his body and the scent of his skin makes my head light and my pulse pound. How did it get to this point where the highlight of my day is flirting with Jax Blackwood? Despite the thrill, I know I’m in over my head. I haven’t gone out on a date in months because I form attachments, I get emotional, and then I hurt when they inevitably leave. And this man will leave. He is as bright and fleeting as a camera flash. I’ll be left with the image of him seared into my memory and nothing more.

I tell myself all of this, the voice in my head as stern as possible. But it doesn’t make me back away. It doesn’t stop my body from somehow straining toward his without even moving. Because it might be stupid of me, but I want to feel something that isn’t planned. Something, for however briefly, that’s real.

He’s too attuned to me not to notice. John’s lids lower as his attention slides down my body before easing back up to my face. Slowly, he rests his forearm on the wall beside my head. “Tell me, Stella,” he murmurs.

“No,” I whisper back, flirting, even though I shouldn’t.

His biceps bunch as he leans in, a smile dancing on his lips. “Tell.”

My breasts graze his chest, and I feel it in my toes.

“You’re crowding me.” I hate how breathy I sound.

“Can’t help it.” His voice is a rumble, the heat of his breath playing over my skin. He ducks his head, drawing close until our lips nearly brush, and when he speaks again, his tone is almost conversational, except for the husky quality that touches deep within my core. “You smell like strawberries. Fucking delicious.”

My lids flutter, and I swallow hard. “Ordinarily, I’d call you out on that cliché but since I’ve been eating strawberries, you aren’t exactly wrong.”

His chuckle is slow and easy, as he eases back and his gaze slowly travels over my face. “Were they sweet, Stella Button?”

He’s looking at my mouth like he might try to find out. My lips tremble in response, and John tracks the movement, his breathing getting deeper, faster. “You have two freckles on your lips. One on the top lip and one on the bottom corner.”

Those damn freckles. They were the bane of my adolescence. I hid them with lipstick and silently cursed whenever someone mentioned them.

Freckles don’t have any feelings, but I swear it’s as if he’s touching them.

“You’re just noticing this?” I try to make it sound like a joke, but it comes out weak and thready.

His own lips quirk. “Oh, I noticed. It’s distracting as hell. They’re like two little dots of butter toffee. Makes me want to lick them, get a taste.”

Oh, God. Lick them, please. I can almost feel it. I want to feel it.

No. Bad Stella. Behave.

John’s lips part a fraction like he just might take that taste.

“Back off,” I whisper. And yet somehow my traitorous hands find their way to his sides, running over the waistband of his jeans, holding him there.

John makes a sound deep in his throat and tilts his hips, pressing them against mine. A distinctly thick bulge nudges my belly. Both of us lose a breath, and then he’s closer, his cheek touching my temple. “You’ll have to let me go first.”

My thumbs slide under the edge of his shirt and find smooth, taut skin. A tremor goes through his body. I try to think, search for what the hell we’ve been talking about.

His lips brush the crest of my cheek as he murmurs against my skin. “Tell me what you do, Stella. You know you want to.”

My smile feels illicit. Somehow the action is directly tied to all my happy parts, making them draw hot and tight. “I don’t think I do.”

Another hum. “Liar. You’re dying to.”

Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewer’s Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publisher’s Weekly and the Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book FIRELIGHT received RT Magazine’s Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal, best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.

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Rule number one: don’t fall for your best friend’s brother.

Rule number two: don’t fall for jerks.

But rules go out the window the day the jerk starts falling…

The Jerk Duet is complete!

The Day the Jerk Started Falling, the fun and flirty conclusion of The Jerk Duet, from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe is LIVE!

My name is Oliver Arsen, but my mates call me Ollie.

I live hard and love harder, and it’s love that usually gets me in the most trouble.

According to the greater population, I’m the ultimate jerk.

My affection tends to be short-lived—a quality I’ve been assured multiple times by the fairer sex isn’t becoming—and the leaving part of loving and leaving has always come natural.

At least, it used to.

Until her.

Luciana Wright.

She’s an American bombshell and my sister’s best friend—a woman so wrong for

me, it’s written in the waves.

And she’s the reason we’re all here.

The reason I have to go back to explain how it all went wrong.

To the day the jerk started falling.

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About Max Monroe:

A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.

Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far. ​

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We are so excited to share this amazing teaser for HEARTBREAK WARFARE by Heather M. Orgeron & Kate Stewart! Don’t forget to add it to your TBR today!

 

Blurb:

Briggs,

Remember when we parted ways in Germany? It was the day I broke your heart. What you didn’t know was that I was breaking mine too.

I thought they’d be enough–my husband and my son. That I’d get home and everything would go back to the way it was . . .

Before the war.

Before the ambush.

Before you.

But, no matter how hard I try, I can’t erase the trauma we shared. I can’t seem to forget the way my heart beat in time with yours.

The truth is I’m lost without you.

I thought the nightmare was over when they pulled us from that hole in the ground, but nothing could have prepared me for the war I’d face at home.

I know it’s selfish of me to ask, but, please, I have to see you one last time. . .

All my love,

Scottie

About the Author:

Heather M. Orgeron is a Cajun girl with a big heart and a passion for romance. She married her high school sweetheart two months after graduation and her life has been a fairytale ever since. She’s the queen of her castle, reigning over five sons and one bossy little princess who has made it her mission in life to steal her Momma’s throne. When she’s not writing, you will find her hidden beneath mounds of laundry and piles of dirty dishes or locked in her tower(aka the bathroom) soaking in the tub with a good book. She’s always been an avid reader and has recently discovered a love for cultivating romantic stories of her own.

http://www.heathermorgeron.com

A Texas native, Kate Stewart lives in North Carolina with her husband, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. She pens messy, sexy, angst-filled contemporary romance as well as romantic comedy and erotic suspense because it’s what she loves as a reader. Kate is a lover of all things ’80s and ’90s, especially John Hughes films and rap. She dabbles a little in photography, can knit a simple stitch scarf for necessity, and on occasion, does very well at whiskey.

Contact Kate- Email-authorkatestewart@gmail.com

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Continue reading “Teaser: Heartbreak Warfare, by Heather M. Orgeron & Kate Stewart” →

Cristian Bianco has two things against him—he’s a police officer and he’s a police officer in the 18th District…meaning my dad is his boss.

Growing up as the Commander’s daughter and having his magnifying glass focused on everything I did was more than I could handle.

Now, I’m out on my own, living by my own rules. Well, mostly. The ‘job’ I created for myself has me in some hot water and my exit strategy isn’t exactly working out how I’d hoped.

Which is why when my best friend bids on Cristian for me at a charity bachelor auction, I’m not having it. A man in blue is only going to be one thing for me—a problem.

Except after his brother starts dating my best friend he becomes harder to ignore. The eight-pack abs. The sense of style only a girl like me can appreciate. The way he puts his family first. It all adds up to make him one irresistible prospect and has me wondering if he knows how to use those handcuffs the right way—by locking my wrists to his headboard.

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Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two USA Today Bestselling authors for the price of one. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have “Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle” (okay…you caught us, that’s our tagline). A little about us… We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We’re both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We’re both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.

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All I Need, an all-new emotional standalone from Jennifer Van Wyk is LIVE!

It took me years to get over my fiancé sleeping with another woman. I thought my luck with men had finally turned around until I walked in on my new fiancé with my maid-of-honor.

I’m done with men entirely. I’m definitely old enough to know better than to let that happen to me again. Trust isn’t something I have in me to give… to anyone. At least, Not anymore.

Besides, even if I wanted to give someone my everything, I have nothing left to give. Now, if Walker could be just a tad less handsome, his relationship with his nephew not quite as sexy and his body… well, let’s not get crazy. His body is just a gift to womankind.

The moment I laid eyes on Ellie, I knew she’d be full of spit and vinegar. And why wouldn’t she be? She’d just caught her fiancé with her maid of honor – and they weren’t chatting about the upcoming nuptials.

I can’t help but push her buttons, she’s sexy as hell when she’s fired up. Or cooking dinner with Miss Polly, or… well, any time, really. Maybe having her work for me in my vet clinic wasn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made considering I can’t stop my body from aching for her.

She said she was done with men entirely, that she’s broken but I can’t help but hope that she realizes she’s All I Need.

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About Jennifer:

From the Ground Up was Jennifer’s first published novel and now that she was bitten by the writing bug, has no intention of ever stopping. Jennifer makes her home in small town Iowa with her high school sweetheart, three beautiful, hilarious and amazing kids, one crazy Jack Russell terrier. This is where her love for all things reading, baking, and cooking happen. Jennifer’s family enjoys camping, boating, and spending time outside as much as possible. You’ll be her best friend if you can make her laugh and follow up with asking her what to read next. When she’s not writing, you can find her cheering the loudest at her kids’ sporting events (read as: embarrassing them), sipping coffee or iced tea out of a mason jar with her Kindle in her lap or binging on Netflix.

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The Sound of Home is a sexy standalone romance in the Langley Park series.

Em smoothed out the pleats of her skirt, and Michael bit back a chuckle. While most of the girls at the party were wearing cut-off jean shorts and tank tops, leaving little to the imagination, Em had on a plaid skirt, a short-sleeved cardigan, and a string of pearls.
Fucking pearls.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, attempting to look incredulous.
“You wore pearls to a Sadie’s Hollow party,” he answered. He’d never thought pearls and plaid were sexy before tonight.
“I’ll have you know,” she raised her index finger, “that tonight I helped raise quite a bit of money for the Kansas City Symphony. Like big-time dollars.”
Jesus, she was an adorable drunk. “You did, did you?”
“I most certainly did,” Em replied, coming to her feet and pretending to play an air violin.
“What did you play?” he asked, unable to hold back a grin.
She closed her eyes and began to bow with her right hand. “Just Paganini. Nel cor piu non mi sento.”
“Oh, yeah, just Niccolò Paganini’s most difficult composition, and arguably one of the most technically challenging pieces ever written?”
She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “Just that.”
Holy shit, she was stunning.
“Could you lose the air-violin for a minute and sit back down. I’d hate to see you fall on your ass again.”
“I almost fell on my bottom. Thankfully, Kyle Benson was there to catch me,” Em replied and settled herself on the rock.
“You can say ass, Em. Nobody will hear you.”
“I know.”
“Then say it. Your dad’s not here.”
She twisted her pearls.
“You can’t do it, can you? Once a good girl, always a good girl.”
“Hey,” Em said, grabbing his hand. Her touch sent a rush of electricity surging from the point of contact. “Do you remember when we played “Heart and Soul” on the piano back when we were in kindergarten?”
“How could I forget? Your dad let us stay up late and watch Big. You lost your mind watching Tom Hanks and that old dude jump around on the giant keyboard.”
“Do you remember your part?” she asked, her face hopeful and glowing creamy white in the moonlight.
Sweet Christ, she was beautiful. When the hell did that happen?
Michael tried to push any sexual thoughts from his mind. He had to remind his twitching cock that nothing could happen with Em.
He released a breath. “I could knock out my part if I had to.”
“Let’s do it,” she said, then turned toward the long, smooth boulder.
Em positioned her hands on the rock as if it were a piano. She gestured with her chin for him to do the same. “Ready, and…” she said, and began to play. She watched him with a furrowed brow as he pretend-played alongside her. “You’re doing it wrong. The notes are more staccato.”
“Em, we’re playing on a fucking rock. How can you even tell?”
“I just know, Michael. It’s like the music talks to me, like it lives inside of me. It’s always been with me.”
He nodded. Fuck, he could get lost in her eyes. Did she still wear those little cotton panties, the ones with tiny flowers, like she did when she was just a girl?
Enough, MacCarron!
He mentally punched himself in the mouth. Of course, she didn’t. She wasn’t eight. She was eighteen, a woman. The little girl he used to play piano duets and flashlight tag with had grown up.
Em nudged him with her shoulder. “Put your hand on top of mine. Then you’ll be able to feel how the notes were meant to be played.”
He draped his large hand over hers. For a second, he thought Em trembled, but then she began to play. As her fingers danced across the imaginary piano keys, Michael felt each note and could hear the music almost as if he was inside her, connected to her.
“See, if you played each note with a bit more—”
He silenced her with a kiss. Her body tensed. He pulled back a fraction, allowing his teeth to nip at her bottom lip. The contact made his head swim. Her lips parted, and he deepened the kiss. She sighed into his mouth, her breaths becoming shallow. If kissing Em was the last thing he would ever do, he would die a happy man. But he wanted more. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and caressed her in a hot, desperate rhythm, begging her to match his intensity.
Em was sweet. So fucking sweet. He tasted the raspberry punch on her tongue, but it had an edge to it. She must have been drinking something before the punch, something spicy like whiskey or rum. The two flavors assaulted his senses and teased his cock. He knew Em MacCaslin was innocent, everyone did. But the intensity of this kiss told him there was something deeper, something darker inside her even she didn’t know existed.
Then it hit him. He was kissing Mary Michelle MacCaslin.
Jesus, what was he doing?
His second-guessing ended when she whispered his name, her voice hungry with need.
“Oh, Michael.”
Em spoke not only to his cock, which was begging for release like a bull in a bucking chute, but to his soul. When she guided his hand across the pretend piano keys, an almost spiritual awakening burst inside him, like standing at the crossroads of a tornado and a tidal wave.
He lifted his hand from where it rested on top of hers and slid his fingertips up the length of her arm. He trailed them across her shoulder and found the string of pearls resting around her neck. Slowly, he wrapped the delicate necklace around his fingers and pulled her in closer. Each time he twisted another segment, Em gasped as if she was moving closer and closer toward something her body never knew it wanted and could no longer deny.