Blog Tour: The Heat of the Moment by Katie Rose

The Heat of the Moment
The Boys of Summer # 3
By: Katie Rose
Publication Date: September 22, 2015 
Loveswept 
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The Boys of Summer are back! In Katie Rose’s sweet, sparkling novel, the newest New Jersey Sonic falls for the woman who’s trying desperately to save his career.

Physical therapist Jessica Hart has learned her lesson: Never date professional athletes. She’s been down that road, and barely recovered after the relationship crashed and burned. Then Jessica meets Gavin King. An All-Star slugger with chiseled good looks, Gavin was traded to the Sonics because he hurt his knee sliding into second, and now his future is in her hands. Gavin’s no bad boy—but he’s tempting enough to make Jessica think twice about all her rules.

Gavin is trying to find a comfortable routine. If he wants his old life back, he must take it easy, stay out of the limelight, and keep his distance from gorgeous redheaded physical therapists. The thing is, Gavin isn’t the kind of guy to sit on his ass and let other people pull his weight. And when he sees something he wants, he can’t help but fight for it, even if it means risking everything, even if it only lasts a single moment: like one kiss from Jessica. 
“Gavin, you see those tweets about the game last night?” Arnie Lutz, outfielder for the Dodgers, approached the first baseman and held up his iPhone. “They caught that line drive you made in the ninth on video.”
“Screw that,” the catcher, Ron Sproules, said, throwing his glove onto the locker room bench. “I hear the chicks are starting a new fan club. Couple of us are the hottest guys in baseball!”
“No shit!” Arnie brought up his Twitter feed.
Gavin King came to stand behind Arnie as the outfielder scrolled through the tweets, pausing only when a female fan expressed her appreciation for his good looks, hot bat, or hard-muscled body.
“Hey, Gav, there is something about you!” He held up the phone so they could both look.
Gavin’s jaw dropped in shock as together they read the tweet:
Dodgers trade star hitter Gavin King to the New Jersey Sonics.
Arnie glanced at Gavin before immediately pocketing the phone. “That doesn’t mean anything,” he said quickly. “You know how it is on Twitter. Most of it’s BS.”
He departed abruptly. Puzzled, Gavin saw the catcher whisper something to the outfielder, and they both looked his way. Before he could question them, Troy Hutchinson, the general manager, walked into the clubhouse.
“Gavin.” He gestured to their first baseman. “Got a second? We need to talk in my office.”
Gavin followed the man, totally confused. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Arnie was studying his shoes, and the other players seemed to avoid eye contact as if he had suddenly acquired a contagious disease.
He and the general manager walked down the hallway into the executive suite. The Dodgers were known as a first-class ball club, and it showed from the polished hardwood floors, the gleaming offices, the richly appointed rooms with mahogany desks and framed artwork. Among the pictures adorning the wall were some of the all-time great players, Al López, Arky Vaughan, Babe Herman . . .
Gavin’s photo was positioned right in the middle. Although he had just been brought up from the minors the year before, the management had made it clear they felt he was destined for greatness.
Troy lifted a coffeepot and turned toward him with raised brows. When Gavin shook his head, he poured himself a cup.
“The management team has decided to make some changes,” he said as if discussing the weather, not the rest of his life. “I know we originally discussed a no-trade clause with your agent last year, but things are different now. We brought up a few promising rookies, our outfielder has developed into a better hitter than we anticipated, and we believe we have several options for first base. We decided to send you to New Jersey, effective immediately.”
Stunned, Gavin stared at the coffee mug in disbelief before shifting his eyes back to the man before him. His ears were ringing, and he felt light-headed, as if he might pass out. His stomach churning, he realized what this meant.
He’d been traded.
When he could speak, he looked the general manager in the eye. “I don’t understand. Why?”
Troy put the cup down and came to sit on the edge of the desk, and then indicated the upholstered leather chair before him. When Gavin sank into the luxurious butter-soft seat, Troy picked up a CD and tapped it against his fingers.
“We got the results back on your MRI.” His voice was lower, sympathetic but firm. “We don’t like it. Now I know,” he said when Gavin attempted to protest, “a lot of players tear a meniscus and recover completely. But it’s not a risk we are willing to take.”
“But the doctor said I’ll be fine—” This wasn’t just a bad dream. It was more like a nightmare.
“I’m sure you will be,” Troy said smoothly. “This is purely a business decision. You see, we can either invest in you, and take our chances, or we can put that money into half a dozen young prospects, figuring one of them will pan out. The organization feels that’s a better way to go.”
“But New Jersey, for God’s sake!” He got to his feet, anger beginning to replace confusion. He couldn’t help but glance once more at his picture on the wall, framed in California sunshine.
“We spoke to your agent a few minutes ago. Why don’t you give him a call, take your time to pack. We’ll miss you, Gavin, but it’s all part of the game. You know that.”
The first baseman rose from the chair and stormed out of the room. Technically, he had just been fired, dumped from a contending team to a second-rate ball club. Everything he’d hoped for, all of his dreams, now seemed to be circling the drain.
And he saw it first on Twitter.
Award-winning historical author Katie Rose makes her contemporary debut with the Boys of Summer novels, Bring on the Heat and Too Hot to Handle, which combine Katie’s true loves: baseball and romance! When not watching baseball, Katie is at her lake house in New Jersey, hard at work on her next book.
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Em and Em by Linda Budzinski Book Blitz




Em and Em by Linda Budzinski 
Published by: Swoon Romance
Publication date: September 15th 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

The last thing sixteen-year-old Emily Slovkowski wants is to move away from her home at the Jersey shore, gorgeous surfer boyfriend Zach, and her entire identity. But that’s kind of how Witness Protection works, and Em must prepare herself for an epic do-over as she starts a new life in the Midwest.
Even as she pines for sandy beaches and the night life of the shore, the newly-named Ember O’Malley finds herself making new friends, taking photos for the high school newspaper, and thinking an awful lot about the paper’s editor, an oddly cute cowboy named Charles.
When Em stumbles upon a shady beneath-the-bleachers exchange between one of the school’s football coaches and a student, she refuses to get involved. The last thing she needs is to be witness to another crime or call attention to herself. Besides, she finally has some real friends – well, real except for the fact that they don’t know a single thing about her – and she prefers to keep it that way until the trial.
But as her day in court approaches, Em begins piecing together what she saw that day beneath the bleachers. And, as her own past secrets start to catch up with her, Em needs to figure out who she really is – Em or Em.



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Random Excerpts

Marissa arched a meticulously plucked eyebrow. “We’re not a bunch of hicks, you know. We may not have skyscrapers and traffic and … ” She waved a hand in the air, trying to think of one other thing a major metropolis might have that her cow-infested county did not.

“A decent coffee shop?” Ember offered. It was one of the things she missed most since she’d arrived. Besides the shore. And Zach.

“We have a Starbucks inside the grocery,” Marissa muttered, but it was obvious the way she and the other girls shifted in their seats that they all knew how lame that sounded.

Claire spoke up. “So. Big game tonight!” Her voice was a little too bright, but the change of subject worked. Ember gave her a grateful smile as the girls’ conversation took off into a barrage of plans for pregame warm ups and post-game parties.

Ember nibbled at her sandwich and studied them. Their hair, their makeup, the way they dressed, and the stuff they talked about—they were different from the girls back home, but also the same. She tried to imagine what would have happened if she’d tried to sit down at a table full of cheerleaders at her old high school. Impossible.

*          *          *

Whap! The wave upended the board and Emily with it. The roar of the surf filled her ears and then disappeared as she plunged into a silent darkness. She tumbled for a moment, helpless and disoriented. The scrape of sand against her knees and the amused stare of a snot-nosed boy standing ankle-deep as she surfaced made her humiliation complete.

She turned to retrieve her board and caught sight of Zach riding a wave, much bigger than the one that had humbled her. She marveled as he weaved up and down and around. So beautiful.

“You almost had that one,” he shouted as they paddled back out together. “If you could get up a little more quickly … ”

Emily forced a smile. Timing wasn’t the problem. Fear was. She tried again and again, always with the same result. She’d manage to get her feet on the board and her butt in the air, but her fingers would cling to the edges like a starfish to the rocks.

*          *          *         

Ember hesitated. She should keep her mouth shut. She didn’t need to be a witness to another crime, and she certainly didn’t need to be nark-ing out the one person in Boyd County who knew her real identity and could expose her at any time. Still, a part of her wanted to confide in Claire. She was so sick of lying, of pretending, of keeping secrets.

“Ember, are you okay?” Claire reached out and touched her arm.

Ember grabbed her hand and held it. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?”

Claire nodded, her eyes wide. “Of course.”

“During the homecoming game, I saw something I shouldn’t have. Under the bleachers.”

Claire drew back. “You mean … Tommy Walker?”

“Yeah.”

Claire jumped up and plugged her ears. “Ew, gross. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to hear it. Ew, ew, ew.” She grabbed Ember’s shoulders. “I realize you can never un-see that, but you have to try to forget. Understand?”

Ember laughed and nodded. Claire had the wrong idea—a very, very wrong idea—but something about her reaction, her sweetness, her innocence, snapped Ember back to reality. No way could she confide in this girl. That huge ball of lies, pretending, and secrets she was living formed the entire basis of their friendship.

*          *          *         

Charles scrambled up a steep set of stairs leading to a loft.

Ember hesitated. Was she crazy to follow him up there? After all, she didn’t know him that well. What if under that sweet geek-boy exterior he was no different from Jimmy and Brad and their teammates? She hadn’t seen another soul when they’d pulled in. Perhaps she was a lamb being led to slaughter.

Charles peered over the edge of the loft. “You coming? You’re going to love this.”

“What is it? Can you bring it down?”

“It’s a surprise. And no.” Charles’s forehead creased, and he nodded toward the stairs. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“No.” Ember took a deep breath and climbed up. She stopped near the top of the staircase and peered around. The loft was empty except for a few scattered piles of hay. Charles sat in the far corner, a huge grin on his face. Her stomach clenched. He’d said he could “cheer her up.” Was this what he had in mind—a literal roll in the hay? Was that how he thought of her?

Ember gripped the railing so hard her palms hurt. It was as though she had a blinking neon sign hanging over her head. “I’m Easy!” She’d thought she could leave the hot tub, the video, and her whole miserable sophomore year behind her, but maybe she couldn’t. Not even halfway across the country. Not even with new hair, a new wardrobe, a new name. Maybe she was and always would be the Girl in the GIF, Emily Slutkowski.

*          *          *         

Charles leaned toward her. “Come on, tell me. What kind of photographer do you want to be?”

Ember pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands. She drew up her knees and hugged them into her chest. She’d never talked about this to anyone. What if it sounded stupid? “I want to be a portrait photographer, but not the kind that takes pictures in the studio; the kind that takes pictures of people out in the real world, being who they are and doing the things they love to do.”

She glanced at him. He didn’t look as though he thought she was stupid. He looked… interested. “You know how they say a picture is worth a thousand words? Well, I want to tell stories about people. True stories. Stories of who they are deep down.” Like that picture of Trina. The one that proved she wasn’t too old or too cool to love the thrill of the wind tugging a kite up, up, up into the sky. “I want to take pictures that push past people’s images and uncovers something real.”

Charles whistled. “Now that’s a dream.”

“Sorry. It’s silly, right?”

“No, not at all.” Charles leaned in even closer, his face just a few inches from hers. His voice was barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean it’s an impossible dream. I meant it’s the kind of dream worth dreaming.”



I live in Northern Virginia with my husband, Joe, and our feisty chihuahua, Demitria (also known as Dee Dee, The Puppy, and Killer). I'm a sucker for romance and reality TV and have been known to turn off my phone's ringer when watching "The Bachelor." My favorite flower is the daisy, my favorite food is chocolate, and my favorite song is "Amazing Grace."

I write young adult romance. My novels, both published by Swoon Romance YA, are EM & EM and THE FUNERAL SINGER. I am represented by Andrea Somberg of Harvey Klinger Inc

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Blog Tour: Peyton Riley by Bianca Mori!

Peyton Riley (Takedown Book 2)

*Can be read as a standalone*
Release date: September 5, 2015

by Bianca Mori 

Genre: Steamy/Action-Adventure

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Not to get Liam Neeson on your asses, but the fact is that Peyton Riley has a very specific skill set. She's good at her job and has just gotten off a major project when she crosses paths with the gorgeous snake-in-the-grass calling himself Carson Varis. He's taken her against her will, but to where, and to what end? She's got days to figure this out and escape–before her boss finds out where his favorite specialist has disappeared.

Carson Varis has got an eye for art and a mania for professionalism. No one does work-life balance like he does. But a certain fiery redhead has gotten his goals in a twist. He has his employer's order to fulfill, but can't get the memory of her body (and her hair, and her deep blue eyes, and oh, that mouth) out of the way. Can he get it together and pull off a job well done?
 
"Gustave!" Carson cried as the older man lunged.

He gripped her arms, bound to the chair, with such force that she yelped in pain. "You caused my sister's death, you witch!" he screamed in her face. "Was it worth stopping the acquisition that a poor woman had to lose her life?"

"I—I didn't mean for her to die!" she yelled back, the panic that she'd been mastering surging through her body, a lunatic tide, burning and acidic. "I've never—in all my time—no one's ever been hurt—"

"Ha!" Gustave cried, and then he laughed maniacally. "'No one's ever been hurt'? Do you truly believe that, cheri? That when you destroy a person's livelihood, they are not ever hurt?"

They stared back at each other—she watching every flicker of muscle in his face for an approaching strike, he as though at something unpleasant stuck under his shoe. The revulsion in his face was clear. "Nagore may have been the first woman who's life you ended, but you have killed others before, oh yes, cheri, scores of them—killed their worth, killed their estimation, killed them in their minds so they walk among us like zombies—and you have done it all, Mademoiselle. You have blood on your hands!"

"What do you want from me?" she cried.

He gripped her arms again and shook her. "You owe me my sister's life!"

"I cannot bring her back!"

"Then you are in my debt!" He stood and appraised her, a dead calm stealing over his face as he looked her up and down. "Oh yes, dearest. You are in my debt."
Bianca Mori is the author of "One Night at the Palace Hotel" and "Tame The Kitten." She is interested in exploring power in romance and enjoys reading about demimondaines, pin-up girls and Jazz Age personalities and hopes to reinterpret these in her stories. She lives with her family and a hyperactive pug. Sign up for Bianca Mori's newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/3BfSb, follow Bianca on Twitter (@thebiancamori), add her on Facebook and on GoodReads.

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Book Tour: Delayed Penalty by Sophie Henry

Delayed Penalty
Pilots Hockey # 1
By: Sophia Henry
Releasing September 1, 2015 
Loveswept 

Buy Links:   Amazon | B & N | iTunes | Kobo
She closed her heart long ago. He just wants to open her mind. For fans of Toni Aleo and Sawyer Bennett, the debut of Sophia Henry’s red-hot Detroit Pilots series introduces a hockey team full of complicated men who fight for love.

Auden Berezin is used to losing people: her father, her mother, her first love. Now, just when she believes those childhood wounds are finally healing, she loses something else: the soccer scholarship that was her ticket to college. Scrambling to earn tuition money, she’s relieved to find a gig translating for a Russian minor-league hockey player—until she realizes that he’s the same dangerously sexy jerk who propositioned her at the bar the night before.

Equal parts muscle and scar tissue, Aleksandr Varenkov knows about trauma. Maybe that’s what draws him to Auden. He also lost his family too young, and he channeled the pain into his passions: first hockey, then vodka and women. But all that seems to just melt away the instant he kisses Auden and feels a jolt of desire as sudden and surprising as a hard check on the ice.

After everything she’s been through, Auden can’t bring herself to trust any man, let alone a hot-headed puck jockey with a bad reputation. Aleksandr just hopes she’ll give him a chance—long enough to prove he’s finally met the one who makes him want to change.
When you’re twenty years old, there’s nothing music and a drink can’t cure.
At least that was my best friend’s response when I told her I’d been cut from Central State’s women’s soccer team that morning.
The overzealous stylings of two drunk chicks bellowing “It’s Raining Men” wafted through the air, and I’d just received my vodka club from the bartender, so why did it still feel like someone scratched my heart out with a serrated shovel?
Maybe “It’s Raining Men” wasn't the right song?
Or maybe my friend’s remedy lacked one vital piece. Like, five minutes locked in a bathroom stall with the crazy-haired hottie approaching me. His head was buzzed short on the sides, leaving a thick patch of dark locks, gelled into a neat pompadour in front. Sort of like 1920s gangster, except less slicked, more height.
Every muscle in Crazy Hair’s body rippled under his clothing as he walked. He had to be over six feet tall, with a broad chest and massive arms stretching the seams of his long-sleeved black Henley. His skin was smooth and pale, a contrast to the thick dark eyebrows resting above his jump-in-and-drown-in-me blue eyes. From the scar on his left cheek to the smug smirk of his lips, he was exactly my type: dangerous, confident, and totally lickable.
I flipped my long blond hair behind my shoulder and glanced to my left, pretending Crazy Hair’s advance had no effect on me. In reality, I’d checked to make sure that he wouldn’t pass me up on the way to some beautiful bombshell I hadn’t noticed standing in the vicinity.
Like when you see someone wave, so you wave back. Then you realize they weren’t waving at you but the person behind you. So you try to play off your lame wave like you were batting away mosquitoes, which aren’t there because it’s December in Canada. Just trying to avoid an awkward situation like that.
Crazy Hair continued to close in, before stopping just inches away.
I’d opened my mouth to ream him out for stepping too far into my personal space, but the sweet scent of clove cigarettes flooded warmth through me like a sip of hot chocolate on a January morning in the Upper Peninsula.
“You work at post office?” he asked in a thick Slavic accent.
“Um, no.” I took a swig of my drink. Though I was unsure where he was going with that line, he was hot enough for me to stick around.
The left corner of his mouth curved into that sexy little smirk. “Because I see you check out my package.”
Carbonation stung my nose as I snorted and choked trying to hold in my laugh. Without time to turn my head, I sprayed vodka club and saliva across the front of Crazy Hair’s shirt.
Awesome.
“Weak!” I heard from somewhere behind me.
I turned to see who had yelled, still coughing as I noticed a group of guys and girls at the high-top table behind me. Shaggy blond hair bounced against one guy’s forehead as he snickered. The dude next to him held his fist in front of his mouth in a horrible attempt to hide his laughter. A brunette in a tight red sweater didn’t look amused. At all.
Crazy Hair threw the guys not one but both of his middle fingers.
“That girl’s a fucking smoke show. Why’d he use a shitty line like that?” the blond one said.
Smoke show? I bit down hard on my lip to fight back a smile. The last time I’d heard that phrase was in high school from my hockey-playing best friend, who’d informed me that “smoke show” was player lingo for “hot girl.”
Unsure of how to recover any semblance of cool after spitting my drink across Crazy Hair’s muscular chest, I spun around and shuffled back to the table my friends occupied in front of the karaoke stage.
It felt weird to drink in public, though we’d been to Canada on multiple occasions. As lifelong residents of Detroit, Michigan, we thought of Windsor—the Canadian city connected to Detroit by a bridge and a tunnel—as the next town over, rather than a foreign country. Nineteen was the legal drinking age in Windsor, so it made sense for underage Americans like us to cross the border for some legit cocktails.
My butt had barely brushed my seat when I heard my name, and my name alone, called over the speakers. I lifted my eyes to the outdated popcorn ceiling, as if the voice resonated from the heavens beyond, rather than the karaoke host.
“Why is he calling my name?” I asked Kristen.
“I picked you a song,” she responded, taking a swig of her beer.
“You picked us a song, you mean?” Emphasis on the us, because I’d never sung alone in my life—not counting the shower and car, of course.
“Nope. Just you.” Kristen placed both hands on my back and pushed me toward the stage. “You need to sing it out. Keeping shit bottled up never works.”
I had no problem singing it out if I was singing with other people, but not when it was just me. Hadn’t I been embarrassed enough today?
My short-lived “smoke show” happiness vanished, and the embarrassment of making a fool of myself in front of Crazy Hair returned. I tried to reverse, but Kristen’s trampoline-like hands propelled me back toward the stage.
Climbing onto the stage, I snatched the microphone out of the host’s hand. I almost felt bad about taking my anger out on him until I saw the lyrics to “Proud Mary” light up in white against the teleprompter’s blue screen. Fuck.
What the hell? I exhaled and lifted my eyes to Kristen.
“Girl power!” She saluted me with her glass.
Was “Proud Mary” a girl-power song? I thought it was about a boat.
“Do you have ‘Good Feeling’?” I asked the karaoke host. He was around my age, with big brown eyes matching his neat, trimmed beard and his shoulder-length hair.
“Flo Rida?” he asked, as disapproving wrinkles formed on his smooth forehead.
“Oh, no,” I said. “The Violent Femmes.”
A smile spread across his lips, and he nodded. “Give me a second.”
Sophia Henry, a proud Detroit native, fell in love with reading, writing, and hockey all before she became a teenager. She did not, however, fall in love with snow. So after graduating with an English degree from Central Michigan University, she moved to North Carolina, where she spends her time writing books featuring hockey-playing heroes, chasing her two high-energy sons, watching her beloved Detroit Red Wings, and rocking out at concerts with her husband.

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Blog Tour: And Then Forever by Shirley Jump

And Then Forever
by Shirley Jump
Contemporary, Romance
Goodreads

Welcome to Fortune’s Island, where the only rule is to follow your heart.

 Love is an extravagance Darcy Williams can’t afford. She prefers the simple life, which includes waitressing at The Love Shack on Fortune’s Island and avoiding temptation. But when a forbidden part of her past steps off the ferry, her safe, guarded existence is turned upside down.

Kincaid Foster has never gotten over his first love. When he sees the wild, beautiful blonde again, dancing her way around The Love Shack, the memories of Darcy’s soft skin, gentle touch, and heated kisses come rushing back. As the privileged son of a wealthy family, Kincaid was too young to stand up to his overbearing father when he and Darcy were together. Now, he’s back on the island—free of the family shackles—and the chiseled, big-time lawyer wants a second chance.

But, Darcy made a promise to keep a secret from Kincaid—a secret that is now a six-year-old girl who looks just like her daddy. If Kincaid finds out about their daughter, Darcy could lose everything. But, she can’t resist the man who stole her heart all those years ago. And it doesn’t take long before both of them realize that anything can happen at The Love Shack on a hot summer night.
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  Darcy and Kincaid may have started loving each other at the wrong time but no one could ever say that their love was not true. They may have left each other, but the distance served for them to know more about themselves, who they are and who they can be. 
I like how the story between the two characters flow. It showed their past and the ways they grew from the time they were apart. And yet, Darcy would never forget Kincaid as he left behind a permanent reminder; their daughter Emma. The distance made Darcy stronger while Kincaid still struggled to find affirmation from his parents. Going back to Fortune's Island made Kincaid realize who he truly is and what he must do to find acceptance in himself. Meeting Darcy and finding about Emma strengthened his resolve. 

 Both characters are remarkable in their own right. Darcy became more grounded than the wild child she was from her teenage days. And with Kincaid, he became more firm with what he wants. He learned to face up to his goals even without the affirmation he generally wanted. And yet, there was that scene in the book that had touched my heart where he did get the acceptance he wanted. I just wish there was more moments with Emma as they live out to be the parents she deserves.

 And Then Forever shows the importance of family, finding your identity, learning to accept oneself and accepting the love of others they give to you.



New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Shirley Jump spends her days writing romance so she can avoid the towering stack of dirty dishes, eat copious amounts of chocolate and reward herself with trips to the mall. Look for her all-new novella in the anthology ASK ME WHY (with Marie Force, Virginia Kantra and Jodi Thomas), as well as the Sweet and Savory Romance series, including the USA Today bestselling book, THE BRIDE WORE CHOCOLATE, on Amazon, and her Sweetheart Sisters series, starting with THE SWEETHEART BARGAIN.
Visit her website at www.ShirleyJump.com for author news and a booklist, and follow her on Facebook atwww.Facebook.com/shirleyjump.author for giveaways and deep discussions about important things like chocolate and shoes.
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Twitter handle: @ShirleyJump
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