30 November 2016

HAPPY TOUR DAY- J.C. AND THE BIJOUX JOLIS- KATY REGNERY-GIVEAWAY


If the best man and maid of honor are both single, 
it’s practically an unwritten rule that they should pork. 


J.C. AND THE BIJOUX JOLIS
The Blueberry Lane Series
The Rousseaus #3
Katy Regnery
Released Nov 21st, 2016


Did you fall in love with The English Brothers? Were you hot for the Winslows? Katy Regnery's New York Times bestselling Blueberry Lane series continues with The Rousseau siblings in 2016!

If the best man and maid of honor are both single, it’s practically an unwritten rule that they should pork.

…so begins a rocky acquaintance between Jean-Christian “J.C.” Rousseau and Libitz Feingold at the wedding of J.C.’s brother and Lib’s best friend. While manslut best man J.C. is surprised when maid of honor Libitz soundly spurns his advances, his curiosity is piqued. The girl he couldn’t have becomes the only one he wants.

So, when he finds a seventy-year-old portrait in the attic of his sister’s mansion that bears an uncanny resemblance to the prickly gallery owner, he enlists her help in solving a mystery seven decades in the making. Traveling from Philadelphia to New York to Marseille, a couple who started off as enemies will discover that even cynics can find true love…and mortal man is no match for destiny.

Get to know the families of Blueberry Lane!

*All books in The Blueberry Lane Series can be enjoyed as standalone novels.*

 His fingers shot up, wrapping around her wrist with an unyielding grip and forcing her to stay, though he didn’t look up at her. 

"Stop,” he growled.               

She didn’t know what to say or do, so she stopped pulling away and stood still, waiting for him to say something else. 

"I’m sorry,” he finally muttered, his voice tight and gravelly. 

“For what?” she asked, hating the way her voice broke. “We never promised each other anything.” 

Slowly, so slowly, he raised his head to look at her, and his eyes were shattered. Crushed. Panicked, even. “Wait. What does that mean?” 

"I get it. You’re not into this anymore, so we can just—” 

"I am into it,” he said, standing up, but still holding tightly to her wrist as though it was a lifeline, and he’d drift out to sea if he wasn’t holding on for dear life. 

"Then what?” she whispered, staring into his eyes as she lowered the file and iPad back to the table. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said harshly, moving around the curve of the table to pull her closer. “I don’t know how to feel comfortable with it.” 

“But you want it?” she asked, wishing she could quell the wild uncertainties in his eyes. 

He nodded once, covering his heart with his free hand. "I want you.” 

She turned away from him, pulling him toward the back of the gallery where they could be alone. He followed her, sliding his fingers from her to her hand. In the dim, quiet light of the hallway, she turned to face him, backing him against the wall. 

“Are you freaking out? Is that what this is?” 

The severe expression on his face softened and he nodded. 

She exhaled, breathing a sigh of relief and cocking her head to the side as she glared up at him. “Are you sure that’s all it is? Because I’m planning to make a major life change tomorrow and if you’re not into this—” 

His lips crashed down on hers with a groan of gut-wrenching need, his hands landing on her hips to pull her between his legs as he leaned against the hallway wall, positioning her firmly against his body. 

"I’m into it. I need you, Libitz. I want you. I’m crazy about you, baby,” he murmured, his lips trailing down the column of her neck as he whispered his truth in a husky, emotional voice. “I’m sorry for saying that before. I didn’t mean it.” 



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Don't miss any of The Rousseaus




New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katy Regnery started her writing career by enrolling in a short story class in January 2012. One year later, she signed her first contract and Katy’s first novel was published in September 2013.

Twenty-five books later, Katy claims authorship of the multi-titled, New York Times and USA Today Blueberry Lane Series, which follows the English, Winslow, Rousseau, Story, and Ambler families of Philadelphia; the six-book, bestselling ~a modern fairytale~ series; and several other standalone novels and novellas.

Katy’s first modern fairytale romance, The Vixen and the Vet, was nominated for a RITA® in 2015 and won the 2015 Kindle Book Award for romance. Katy’s boxed set, The English Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1–4, hit the USA Today bestseller list in 2015, and her Christmas story, Marrying Mr. English, appeared on the list a week later. In May 2016, Katy’s Blueberry Lane collection, The Winslow Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1-4, became a New York Times E-book bestseller.

In 2016, Katy signed a print-only agreement with Spencerhill Press. As a result, her Blueberry Lane paperback books will now be distributed to brick and mortar bookstores all over the United States.

Katy lives in the relative wilds of northern Fairfield County, Connecticut, where her writing room looks out at the woods, and her husband, two young children, two dogs, and one Blue Tonkinese kitten create just enough cheerful chaos to remind her that the very best love stories begin at home.




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29 November 2016

HAPPY TOUR DAY - THE SCOTTISH DUKE-KAREN RANNEY-GIVEAWAY


a new series about dashing, charismatic dukes—
and the women who tame them…


THE SCOTTISH DUKE
The Duke Trilogy #1
Karen Ranney
Releasing Nov 29th, 2016
Avon Books






New York Times bestselling author Karen Ranney returns with the first novel in a new series about dashing, charismatic dukes—and the women who tame them…

Though raised as a gentleman’s daughter, Lorna Gordon is obliged to take a position as an upstairs maid at Blackhall Castle when her father dies. Alex Russell, the Duke of Kinross, is the most tempting man she’s ever seen—and completely unattainable—until, at a fancy dress ball, Lorna disguises herself as Marie Antoinette and pursues an illicit tryst…with scandalous consequences.

Months after his mysterious seductress disappears, Alex encounters her again. Far from the schemer the distrustful duke assumed her to be, Lorna is fiercely independent and resourceful. She’s the one woman capable of piercing his defenses. But when danger threatens Lorna, Alex must prove himself not just the lover of her fantasies, but the man who will fight to protect her. 





The last thing Alexander Russell, the 9th Duke of Kinross, wanted to do was mingle with his guests. He could put the time to better use. Nor did he have friends among the throng. Acquaintances, perhaps, but few could be called more than that, especially after this afternoon when he’d been subjected to a humiliating rout.
            Nevertheless, Alex forced himself to enter the ballroom, pasting a smile on his face that hid his true feelings.
            The ballroom had been polished like a seldom worn crown. The three rows of four brass and crystal chandeliers illuminated every inch of the massive room, reflecting light off the windows and making the floor shine.
            The jewels in the crown were the women, most of whom had taken to the idea of a fancy dress ball with enthusiasm, choosing costumes ranging from stunning to amusing with a few ridiculous examples in between. A half dozen hapless husbands were dressed to compliment their wives’ choices, but most men were attired in black evening dress.
            At least twenty-five of them had witnessed his drubbing this afternoon.
            Tonight’s entertainment was the last time he’d have to stand here and smile fatuously. He couldn’t wait for them all to be driven back to the train station tomorrow morning, en route to their various homes. The Scottish Society for Scientific Achievement could go to hell and with it their annual medal.
            Someone in this room was a traitor. Not to country, even though they might well stoop to that. Someone here, being feted and entertained, had betrayed him. That was the only reason Simons had won the damn medal. Alex’s research was nearly word for word with the other man’s. His subjects were more numerous, however, numbering in the thousands to Simons’ hundreds. Even Simons’ conclusions, enumerated on the last page of his paper, had sounded too close to his own words. But his findings had been submitted to the Society a good three months before Simon’s. Three months, yet Simons had been the one critically acclaimed.
            Someone had leaked the results of his research. Either a member of the Society attending this ball, the last event of a torturous week of hosting at Blackhall Castle, or someone to whom he’d confided about his work.
            “You must learn to trust people, Alex,” his mother had once said to him.
            He couldn’t remember why she’d offered up the sentiment, but he could remember the occasion. They’d been standing in Blackhall’s chapel and watching as the bronze plaque had been affixed to his wife’s last resting place.
            He could also recall his response. He’d turned to her and said, “Why?”
            She hadn’t an answer, which was a pity. Perhaps her words could have softened his emotion. Ruth, the late Duchess of Kinross, hadn’t been faithful, a fact that had been tearfully admitted by her sister.
            “You mustn’t hate her, Alex. Ruth always wanted admiration. When you were too busy to give it to her, she sought it elsewhere.”
            His wife would have enjoyed this ball. She would have purchased something ruinously expensive to wear, and no doubt a little shocking. She would have flitted among the guests, charming everyone. He could almost see her golden hair bobbing as she turned to greet one person then another. The noise level was intense in the ballroom and his memory furnished her laughter. Those who’d never come to Blackhall would leave with praises for her on their lips.
            She made us feel so welcome.
            What a gracious person the duchess is.
            How beautiful she is and that gown!
            Ruth had a bright and receptive approach to life. If it was interesting or exciting, Ruth wanted to experience it. Her blond beauty was only enhanced by her trilling laugh, a smile that she used to great advantage and a skilled, almost manipulative way, she had of making any man feel as if he were the most important person in a room.
            Ruth collected people the way other women collected gloves. She had dozens of friends, each one of whom thought she was the most important person in Ruth’s life. They never figured out that Ruth didn’t care about them individually. She only wanted the adulation such friends brought to her. The more important, titled, or wealthy the better. He had come to believe it was the same reason she’d married him.
            By the second month of his marriage he realized she didn’t give a flying farthing for him. He was just a mark on a mental scorecard, an item no more important than a scarf from her dresser or a gown from her armoire.
            After her death he’d been approached by one poor sod who’d openly wept about her passing. He’d wanted to ask the man if he genuinely believed Ruth had loved him, then realized that the truth wouldn’t serve any purpose.
            As far as he was concerned, Ruth wasn’t capable of loving anyone other than herself.
            He had no doubt that, given the passage of years, she would have still charmed people. They would have said things like: she hasn’t changed, has she? She’s still one of the most beautiful women in Scotland, isn’t she?
            Ruth would have gloried in their comments. She would have draped herself in diamonds whose sparkle matched that in her eyes. Did you hear that, Alex? They did enjoy themselves, didn’t they? We should entertain again soon, I think.
            Even perched in the middle of the Highlands, Blackhall Castle had once been known for its hospitality, its entertainments, and its beauty.
            The beauty had never faded even though it took a fortune to maintain. The entertainments were fewer lately; he hadn’t the inclination to invite hoards of people to his home. And the hospitality? At the moment, he wished them all to perdition, including the men from the Society in their evening attire, clustered in small groups around the ballroom.
            Who would Ruth have dressed as tonight? He suspected she would prefer to come as herself, the Duchess of Kinross. Or perhaps she would have stolen her sister’s costume. Mary was Cleopatra, her long, white tunnel like dress adorned with an intricate gold necklace. His mother was Queen Elizabeth, if he didn’t miss his guess, complete with a bright curly red wig.
            Why was Ruth at the forefront of his mind tonight? Because he felt betrayed again? Because this was the first ball they’d held since her death three years ago? Because he’d been made raw with this feeling that he’d been a fool?
            The orchestra his mother had hired was excellent. They were playing a waltz and a great many people were dancing. He should be a good host and greet his guests, but he had neither the will nor the ability to mask his emotions that well. He was furious, the rage building with each moment he stood there.
            He waited until a footman was near, then gave him an order in a low voice. In moments the young man returned with a tumbler filled with whiskey.
            “Watch me,” he said. “When it’s empty, I want you to bring me another one.”
            “Yes, Your Grace.”
            He didn’t drink often, but tonight he was going to with the single minded pursuit of drunkenness. He could only remember two times he’d done something similar in recent memory: the day he’d learned his wife had been unfaithful and the day she’d died in childbirth, taking his heir with her. Or perhaps the child hadn’t been his after all, a question he’d never have answered.
            Tonight seemed an excellent occasion as well. He was facing the destruction of a dream, one brought about by someone he’d trusted.
            “You must learn to trust people, Alex.”
            The echo of his mother’s voice intruded into his thoughts.

            Why seemed as good a word as any in response. Or perhaps a resounding no would suffice.







Karen Ranney wanted to be a writer from the time she was five years old and filled her Big Chief tablet with stories. People in stories did amazing things and she was too shy to do anything amazing. Years spent in Japan, Paris, and Italy, however, not only fueled her imagination but proved she wasn't that shy after all.


Now a New York Times and USA Today bestseller, she prefers to keep her adventures between the covers of her books. Karen lives in San Antonio, Texas.



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HAPPY TOUR DAY-HARD COMPROMISE-SAMANTHE BECK-GIVEAWAY


Nothing will stop this sexy cop from staking a real claim 
on her body and her heart. 


HARD COMPROMISE
Compromise Me #2
Samanthe Beck
Releasing Nov 21st, 2016
Entangled: Brazen


Laurie Peterson assumes her impulsive one-night stand with sinfully sexy Sheriff Ethan Booker is the biggest surprise of the year…until her bakery burns down while she’s basking in the afterglow. It looks like her dreams are up in smoke, but then Ethan proposes a deal too tempting to resist.

Ethan has no intention of settling for a one-night stand with Laurie. Nor does he want anything to do with the women his wealthy family wants him to meet. Not when he’s waited ten years for his chance to make his move. His deal might have strings—and Laurie may not know the stakes—but nothing will stop this sexy cop from staking a real claim on her body and her heart.



She turned on less than steady legs and walked to the other side of the room, feeling the weight of his stare on her the entire time. Once there, she planted her feet hip’s distance apart, bent from the waist, and rested her forearms on the bed. “I trust this is interesting enough for you?” 
His footsteps fueled her adrenalin. She lowered her head to the mattress, and lifted onto her toes. 
“It’s definitely a start. Hand me my belt.” 
She raised her head as a hundred imaginary feathers fluttered down her spine. “Your...what?” 
“My belt,” he repeated. “It’s right beside you.”
“Why?”
“Give it to me, and you’ll find out.”
If she wasn’t in the mood for this, all she had to do was say so. Booker would let it go, without question. Even knowing this, backing down felt too much like surrender. She handed the strap to him, but couldn’t help adding a caustic comment. “Who would have guessed there were fifty shades of Sheriff Booker?” 
His soft laugh stirred invisible molecules in the air around her. “I would never do anything so conventional. Besides”—he folded the belt in half and ran the edge along the back of her thigh—“I think you secretly prefer gentle.” 
“I told you before, you don’t have to be gentle with me.” 
“You’re tough, huh?” The edge of the belt tickled her skin again. 
She faced front and held her position. “That’s right.” Dammit, she was her own worst enemy. 
“Okay, tough girl. Be still.” 






Wine lover, sleep fanatic, and USA Today Bestselling Author of sexy contemporary romance novels, Samanthe Beck lives in Malibu, California, with her long-suffering but extremely adorable husband and their turbo-son, Hud. Throw in a furry ninja named Kitty and Bebe the trash talking Chihuahua and you get the whole, chaotic picture.

When not clinging to sanity by her fingernails or dreaming up fun, fan-your-cheeks sexy ways to get her characters to happily-ever-afters, she searches for the perfect cabernet to pair with Ambien.




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