#NewRelease Relapse in Paradise by @thissmithrox

A Florida native, Roxanne Smith has called everywhere from Houston to Cheyenne home. Currently residing in Asheville, NC, she's an avid reader of every genre, a cat lover, pit bull advocate, and semi-geek. She loves video games, Doctor Who, and her dashing husband. Her two kids are the light of her life.

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Blurb:

Still stinging from her recent divorce, Emily Buzzly heads to majestic Hawaii to soothe her wounds. But once she arrives on Oahu, Emily discovers that a man she assumes is a beach bum is in fact her personal tour guide, hired by her sister. With his long hair and tattoos, Boston Rondibett is everything Emily detests—despite his sun-kissed surfer body. And with her straight-laced, executive persona, Emily is everything Boston rebels against. But both have a lot to learn about making snap judgments…
 
 As it turns out, Boston’s real job, the one he truly cares about, is running his soup kitchen and homeless shelter. Embarrassed by her assumptions, rather than lazy beach days, Emily soon finds herself feeding the hungry, and even involved in the search for an AWOL soldier. And to Boston’s surprise, she’s loving every minute of it—and he’s loving seeing her loosen her chignon and be the admirable, beautiful woman she is. As each works through the challenges of the past, these two very different people just might find their hearts are on the very same page…
 

Excerpt:

She’d been small there for a minute. He’d acted like an insane person, and Emily had shrunk beneath it. Now, her back straightened, and she came to herself as if suddenly recalling she wasn’t the type to shrink. “Forget it. But at least we’ve discovered one thing we have in common.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t care, either.”

Boston gritted his teeth. He wished she had the stones to yell it and scream it in his face like a mad woman, like Jordan would have. But not Emily, Miss Poised and Proper. Oh, no. She merely said it, flat and without a trace of inflection or emotion.

She stopped when she reached the door and pulled it open to let herself out. “By the way, your deduction is correct. I was with Ryder last night.” He gaped at her. Everything inside seemed to collapse until the air wasn’t filling his lungs completely. With her next words, she both saved and condemned him. “I paid Kale’s debt. You’ll never see Ryder again, and The Canopy is safe.” She searched his face while hers remained passive. “Until you find someone else to rescue, anyway.”

 

Roxanne will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour! 

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#NewRelease A Prince of a Guy by @EileenDreyer

New York Times bestselling, RWA Hall of Fame author Eileen Dreyer has published 31 romance novels in most genres, 8 medical­forensic suspenses, and 10 short stories.

2015 sees Eileen enjoying critical acclaim for her foray into historical romance, the Drake’s Rakes series, which Eileen labels as Regency Romantic Adventure that follows a group of Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe. She is also working on her first non­fiction book, TRAVELS WITH DAVE, about a journey she's been taking with a friend's ashes.

A retired trauma nurse, Eileen lives in her native St. Louis with her husband, children, and

large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. She has animals but refuses to subject them to the limelight.

Website - http://eileendreyer.com/

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/EileenDreyer

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Blurb:

When New Yorker Casey Phillips visits the tiny country of Moritania, she simply wants to see where her ancestors came from. Instead, she's mistaken for a princess.

 

The real princess has been kidnapped, and Crown Prince Eric von Lieberhaven insists Casey—a dead ringer for the missing royal—step into the princess's shoes until she can be freed.

As Casey upends royal tradition, Eric finds himself hoping the cheeky American never returns home. But can a secretary from Brooklyn really find happiness with a prince?

Excerpt:

The Royal Palace of Moritania, the Alps, 1987

Eric handed her up the steps before him as a silent groom appeared from somewhere and took the Bronco away. Casey half expected him to sweep the cobblestones behind them. When they reached the door, it magically opened, another liveried servant bowing and smiling as he passed them on.

"Rolph," Eric said, easing Casey along when she slowed, "is Her Majesty the queen available for visitors?"

"I shall check for you, Your Highness. Refreshments?"

He stole a look at Casey, who was rubbernecking the paintings on the walls with undisguised astonishment. After a moment he nodded. "Yes, I believe they will be needed. In the Great Hall, if you please."

Rolph dispatched a discreetly questioning look, but bowed and moved away. Casey was still trying to take in the extent of the entryway.

Train stations were smaller. The walls extended up some thirty feet, decorated with what looked suspiciously like old masters and terminating in a high, vaulted ceiling that some brave painter had gotten his hands on. It was all light and froth, cherubs and swirling gold banners swimming around a vault of milky white. The floors were of gleaming dark wood covered in what had to be priceless Oriental rugs. The effect was one of immense space, the inside of the building mirroring the image given by the outside. Quiet, understated grace and wealth.

No need for ostentation here. It only made her want to see more.

"Like your decorator," she finally managed, casting a sidelong glance over to where Eric was enjoying her reaction.

"Moritania might not be big—" he bowed a little in acknowledgment, "—but it is a country rife with good taste. I'd like to show you something, if you don't mind."

"The only thing you could show me to beat this would be the Sistine chapel."

Walking to the right side of the hall, Eric opened a great oak door. Casey walked past him into an even more impressive room. It was long, with six matched sets of crystal chandeliers and floor-to ceiling windows that reflected in the mirrors along the opposite wall.

"Been to Versailles, had they?" she breathed, coming to a stop.

Eric wouldn't let her. Instead, he took her by the elbow and gently propelled her down the parquet flooring. "I'm sure you don't know," he was saying, "but my brother just died recently."

Casey immediately turned to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't."

He nodded with a sad little smile. "He was much older than I, and his heart was bad. The upshot of it is that next week his daughter, my niece, will become the new queen of Moritania. She is his only child, and his wife is also dead."

Casey had no idea where the conversation was leading. He seemed so reluctant to tell her that she knew it was something important to him. She couldn't think of anything more to do than nod.

Then he stopped walking. Turning to her, he took hold of both of her arms, his eyes trying to communicate something of import. They had softened. Casey felt even more confused.

"What?"

"The portrait here at the end of the Great Hall has just gone up. It is a painting of the next queen of Moritania, Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Cassandra."

He turned Casey to face the painting. Casey's jaw dropped. Looking back at her from the canvas was a young woman with delicate features, a gently molded face with deep, wide-set hazel eyes and a small, straight nose. A small mouth curved just at the ends as if she was amusing herself immensely with a private joke. Diamonds and rubies glittered at her throat, and a mane of tawny hair swept back, thick and styled sleekly away from tiny ears where teardrop diamonds hung.

Casey turned to Eric and then back to the picture and then back to Eric again, unable to speak. Then she turned once again to the portrait and finally admitted what he'd been trying to prepare her for. She was staring at a portrait of herself.

"And here I thought losing the car was going to be the high point of my day."

Copyright Eileen Dreyer

 

Eileen will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. 

 

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#NewRelease: Fugly by Mimi Jean @MimiJeanRomance

New York Times and USA Today bestselling Romance author, host of the radio talk show, Man Candy, on Radioslot.com.

When San Francisco native Mimi Jean went on an adventure as an exchange student to Mexico City, she never imagined the journey would lead to writing Romance. But one MBA, one sexy husband, and two rowdy kids later, Mimi would trade in corporate life for vampires, deities, and snarky humor.

She continues to hope that her books will inspire a leather pants comeback (for men) and that she might make you laugh when you need it most.

 She also enjoys interacting with her fans (especially if they're batshit crazy). You can always find her chatting away on Facebook, Twitter, or saying many naughty words on her show MAN CANDY on Radioslot.com !

Find out more about Mimi and upcoming books at www.mimijean.net.

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/MimiJeanPamfiloff

Twitter - https://twitter.com/MimiJeanRomance

Tsu - https://www.tsu.co/mimijeanpamfiloff

Newsletter - http://bit.ly/1ULsBW8

Blurb:

My name is Lily Snow. I am twenty-five years old, and despite being born with an unattractive face, I have never doubted who I am: smart, driven, and beautiful on the inside.

 

Until I met Maxwell Cole.

 

He’s handsome, excessively wealthy, and the owner of Cole Cosmetics. It’s been my dream to work for this man for as long as I can remember. The good news is he wants to hire me. The bad news is he wants me for all the wrong reasons. Ugly reasons.

 

In exchange, he’s offered me my dreams on a silver platter. The job. The title. A beautiful future. But this man is as messed up and ugly as they come on the inside. I’m not sure anyone can help him, and he just might take my heart down with him.

Excerpt:

“What the hell are you doing here?” I stopped with my hands on my waist and felt the beads of sweat running like a little river down my spine.

His eyes moved over my body, almost reaching the top before they made another sweep, lingering an extra moment on my breasts. He still hadn’t uttered a word.

“What did you expect? Scales on my legs and a uni-breast?” I couldn’t believe I’d said that, but pretending to be civil to this horrible man felt like a lie.

His eyes reluctantly settled on my face, his revulsion immediate. “Not the uni-breast.” He cracked a dimpled smile. Totally forced.

I hissed out an unappreciative breath and marched straight to my door, pushing past him. I dug my key from the little pocket of my waistband while he just stood there staring at the view down the front of my panties.

Asshole. I shot him a look and released the elastic waistband with a snap. As I turned the key in the lock, I decided I’d be slamming the door in his face before he had the chance to say a single word. My guess was he feared I’d tell his little secret or sue him or something.

 

Let the man stew.

 

But the moment I pushed open the door, he said something that made me think twice. “Invite me in.”

 

Okay, it wasn’t so much what he said, but the way he’d said it: a demand. It gave me the urge to do far worse than shut a door and leave him on the other side.

 

I turned and looked up at him, shooting my own breed of disgust his way. I hated the gorgeous bastard. I hated every perfect hair on his perfect head, and I wanted him to know it. “Why the fuck would I do that, asshole?”

 

“You have a dirty mouth.” A subtle smile, laced with a hint of sadistic delight, twitched across his lips. That time his smile was real.

 

“You bring out the ugly bitch in me. Why are you here?”

 

“I want to talk. Invite me in,” he demanded again with that deep authoritative voice.

 

I laughed at his attempt to boss me around. “If you’re worried I’m going to tell anyone the truth about you, don’t. I’d actually have to give a crap about you.” The only thing I cared about was getting on the road to starting my own company as quickly as possible so I could build a company where women like me were genuinely valued.

 

“Miss Snow, stop being such a hostile bitch and invite me in.”

 

My knee twitched with the urge to salute his balls.

 

“I’ve got a job proposal for you,” he added, “the opportunity of a lifetime.”

 

This sonofabitch wanted to offer me a job? After everything he’d said? Hell yeah, I’ll invite him in. Just to tell him to go fuck himself.

 

I stepped aside and replied with a noxious sweetness, “Why…won’t you come in, Mr. Cole?”

 

He dipped his head of thick dark-brown hair. “Why, thank you, Miss Snow.”

 

“Oh, please. Call me Lily. I insist.” 

The author will award 5 winners via Rafflecopter a signed copy of FUGLY + FUGLY Tote + Key Chain, Magnet, Bookmark, and Bumper Sticker

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#BookBlast A Vixen in Venice by @KateDeveaux

Kate Deveaux is a contemporary erotic romance writer and die-hard romantic. A former wedding planner, she has always been “in love” with love! Kate is currently working on several fictional stories – each filled with sexy romance, heroines who are no shrinking violets and heroes who make your heart skip a beat. She currently resides with her husband in the U.S.

When Kate is not busy writing, she can be found on the tennis court –yes, there’s even ‘love’ in that game too.
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Blurb:
He’s an art thief on the run...with her heart

Look closer, into Hotel Totally Five Star Venice, where art curator Monique Le Bres has just
walked through the doors of the newly opened swanky luxury hotel to assist with their art
collection.

Alessandro Bonnard, the world-renowned art connoisseur and collector has been sent incognito to supervise Monique and oversee her acquisitions for the hotel.

Concealing his true identity, Alessandro is intrigued by the art-loving vixen with an appetite for kinky sex. He pursues Monique, charming her at every turn — taking her to places she’s never been — both in and out of bedroom.

Monique falls hard for the man who has utterly captured her body and soul. Only to find out he isn’t who she thought he was after all...he’s an art thief on the run...with her heart.

Excerpt:
Smiling, the hotel clerk handed her the large gold room key.

“Signorina Le Bres, benvenuti a Venezia.” She welcomed Monique warmly. “Signor Amatus will be here un momento to escort you to your suite.”

The mix of English and Italian words was enchanting to Monique, so far from the small dirt filled town back in Kansas that she’d dragged herself out so many years ago where the only foreign language spoken was pig Latin if you were lucky and grow up on the right side of the tracks. Monique hadn’t even been that lucky, the rusted out trailer she’d shared with her mother couldn’t have been further from the right side of anything.

“Grazie.” Monique took the gold key, noting how large and heavy it was in the palm of her hand.

Almost ominous of what lay ahead. No slick electronic keys at this hotel. No, this was one hundred percent Italian luxury. The key began to heat in her grasp as she glanced around for the man who was supposed to greet her.

The elevator door dinged, catching her attention.

Monique’s mouth dropped open. A good looking twenty-something man dressed in employee issued suit exited. His robust laughter had caught her attention with his momentarily flirtation with a sexy young woman dressed in the hotel uniform that made Monique smirk as the man patted her ass when he passed. A first rate flirter for sure, she made a mental note to steer clear.

Monique’s smirk turned into a frown as the man kept walking straight towards Monique.

“There he is, Signor Amatus,” the clerk behind the counter called to Monique while she stood somewhat transfixed as the flirter approached. He really was young. Could he really be her supervisor? Not at all what she’d been expecting. Maybe mid twenties if she was generous.

Barely legal age back in the states and good ten to fifteen years younger than her she was quite sure.

“Ah, Signorina Le Bres...”

“Yes, I am Monique Le Bres.” She extended her hand. He wasted no time sliding it into his and reaching it to his mouth. Pausing before kissing the back of her palm, his gaze stayed fixed on hers.

“Incantanto,” his words almost a whisper.

These Italian men were skilled at the art of flirtation; there was no denying that. But the sooner she made it clear to him that she was all work and no play the better it would be for both of them.

“I am Donovan Amatus, please allow me welcome to you to Hotel Totally Five Star Venezia. I am sure you will be molto comfortable here.”

The wicked glint in his eyes made her blush and fume at the same time. “I’m the new art
curator,” Monique scrambled to say something, trying not blurt out what she was really thinking.

That it was actually both flattering and maddening all at the same time to be flirted with by this young stud with the wandering eyes only moments after her arrival at the hotel.

“I know, si. Art Curator,” he said, releasing her hand but not before running it lightly over his lips.

“I will be your liaison while you are here, answer any questions you have. Work with you side by side. Fianco a fianco,” he repeated the words in Italian, his tone so intimate that she was lost for a moment as she studied his nametag.

Donovan Amatus, Del controllo qualità.

Quality Control Manager. A vague memory of her letter of employment and that name stuck
in her head but she was damned if she could reconcile the young man in front of her with
her supervisor. Surely there had been some mix up. This young man couldn’t possibly be
supervising her and the forty million euro budget the CEO had entrusted her with.

“The key Signorina?” he prompted.

Speechless she just stood there.

“La chiave, the key, per favore?” He repeated and then reached to take the key from her grip.

“Follow me Signorina Le Bres.”

“Oh, please call me Monique.”

“You Americans are so friendly,” he said with a smile as he led her toward the elevator, placing his hand firmly around her waist.

Summoning her most professional demeanor she slipped from his hold and stepped into the
elevator.

“I am sure you will be very happy working here at the hotel Totally Five Star Venezia.” He said as he punched the fifth floor button.

Monique tried to focus on what she was there for, her dream job and not the leering eyes of her so-called supervisor. “Yes, I’m sure I will. Mr. Conroy’s letter of employment said I could start to work tomorrow.”

“Assolutamente,” he confirmed. “Tomorrow. But first I show you your room, bene?”

The author will be giving away a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble Gift Card during the tour!

 

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