Archive | September 19, 2015

FLIRTING WITH SIN by Naima Simone BOOK BLITZ &Rafflecopter giveaway 9/19/15

Flirting with Sin
by Naima Simone
Series: Noble Pass Affaire
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Designer: Misty Dietz Book Covers
Release Date: September 15, 2015

Ari Sincero is running away.

Running from the grueling touring schedule, the recording label’s demands for more music, the constant pressure of being the lead singer of one of the world’s most famous rock band. Hell, he needs a vacation. Maybe then he can breathe, possibly write his first song in three years, and oh yes, drink himself into an oblivion so he can forget the guilt relentlessly dogging him.

The best laid plans…

Blackmailed by her evil twin into a vacation she doesn’t want, loan officer Neveah Morgan arrives at the hotel in Noble Pass, Colorado, questioning her career and horrible choices in men—and ends up playing roomie with a rock star. With his sexy tattoos, body that won’t quit and eyes full of secrets and pain, Ari practically flashes Caution: Danger Ahead. Falling into the bed of a rock star is crazy. Falling for him is even crazier. Especially when he’s in love with a ghost and intends to return to his world of rock ‘n roll and meaningless sex—a world she doesn’t fit in.

Maybe what happens in the mountains should stay in the mountains. Unless it means losing the love of a lifetime…

     “Here we go.” The concierge swung the door to the hotel suite open and Neveah rolled her eyes. Jesus Christ, he was so damn happy he practically chirped.
     She followed him in and halted just inside the luxuriously appointed suite. Shock and pleasure rooted her feet to the floor, the same as it had outside the resort and in the lobby. Was there anything about this place not screaming history, wealth and beauty? In the common area of the room, two large, high-back arm chairs and a wide, long sofa gathered around a huge fireplace and mounted flat-screen television big enough to satisfy the manliest of man caves. An oak dining room table flanked by matching chairs decorated the other side of the open floor plan, while a surprisingly roomy kitchen occupied the farthest end of the room. A quartet of floor-to-ceiling windows granted a breath-stealing view of Lake Noble, mountains and the small village of Noble Pass in the distance. Gorgeous, she breathed. Just gorgeous.
     “Here’s your living and dining room combination. Of course, you have full access to the main dining room with all of your meals covered by the hotel. But, just in case you decide to eat in, you have a fully appointed kitchen. You have a tower suite, so there are two balconies. That door there,” he pointed to a door she’d mistaken for a window, “leads to one, and there’s another in the second bedroom.” He waved a hand toward the closed door on the left side of the suite.
     The closed door slowly creaked open, revealing the man she would be roomies with for the next seven days.
     The rest of the concierge’s spiel fell on deaf ears. She couldn’t catch anything beyond the dull roar reverberating in her head like noise in an empty, vast cave.
     Tattoos.
     Lots of them.
     They swirled in vivid tones of red, blue, purple and black from his wrists, up muscular arms to disappear under a dark, vintage AC/DC T-shirt. More stark lines crept from under his collar and up the strong column of his neck. Most people would’ve probably called his skin “olive,” but that would’ve been a misnomer. It was golden. As if God Himself had trapped liquid sunshine in His hand and created this man out of it.
     Tearing her gaze from the strange allure of his throat, she dragged her study down his wide shoulders to his narrow hips and long legs encased in loose denim. He was tall, lean but with a whipcord power not unlike a very large predator.
     Sleek, beautiful, controlled…dangerous.
     She retraced her visual journey, eager to glimpse the face accompanying this body and rivaling the view outside the bank of windows. Jesus, he managed to pilfer her breath just standing there fully clothed. Naked, he would send a woman into a lust-induced cardiac arrest.
     Now there was one for the medical journals…
     Oh. Shit.
     A sinful, carnal mouth was emphasized by a dusting of dark-brown facial hair above his top lip and along his chin and jaw…and the small, black hoop piercing one corner of his slightly plumper bottom lip.
     A black baseball cap shielded his eyes, but she didn’t need to see them to know they would be a startling shade of gold and green, exotic, unique. No, she didn’t need to see them because the mouth was enough.
     She could never mistake it. Hell, she’d stared at and fantasized about those sensual curves since she was eighteen.
     “Hello, Mr. Riley.” The hotel employee beamed, wielding his perpetual cheeriness on the tatted, pierced, brooding newcomer like a sledge hammer. “You’re suite mate has arrived. I’d like you to meet Neveah Morgan.”
     Mr. Riley?
     Suite mate.
     Her heart pummeled her chest wall and the thunder in her ears grew louder, but for a different reason. Not nerves. But a very feminine fear and excitement.
     And confusion.
     Either the staff here was incredibly discreet or they didn’t get out much. Or watch television. Or listened to the radio.
     Because the last name of the man standing several feet away from her, shoulders squared, arms crossed and feet spread in a don’t-fuck-with-me stance wasn’t Riley. It was Sincero.
     She closed her eyes, ordered herself to breathe and not run screaming out the door and hotel and down the mountain like a lunatic. Hysterics wouldn’t serve to accomplish anything but a severe case of hypothermia. And with her return ticket home scheduled for next Monday—a week from now—and predicted snow possibly shutting down the mountain road, she was good and stuck.
     Yup.
     Thanks to her sister, it looked like she would be spending her vacation with a rock star.

The Noble Pass Affaire series includes five stand-alone books that can be read in any order. Each author picked a different month for their couple to stir up mayhem, fun and romance at a gorgeous mountain resort. So, pick a month, y’all, and get ready to FLIRT! – The Chick Swagger Chicks

by Misty Dietz (October)

by Josie Matthews (September)

by Jerrie Alexander (December)

by Kym Roberts (January)

Naima Simone’s love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey and Linda Howard many years ago. Though her first attempt at writing a romance novel at age 11 never saw the light of day, her love of romance and writing has endured. Now, she spends her time creating stories of unique men and women who experience the dizzying heights of passion and the tender heat of love.

She is wife to Superman—or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent—and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.

Join Naima’s Street Team on Facebook:

Second Hand Jane by Michelle Vernal Book Blitz 9/19/15

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Book Blitz

9781495218415

Book Title: Second Hand Jane
Author: Michelle Vernal
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: February 24, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

With her love of all things vintage, Jessica Jane Baré is known as Second-hand Jane to her friends. Life would be sweet if it weren’t for her meddling mother, Marian who views Jess’s life as a newspaper columnist in Dublin as nothing more than a stop-gap until she meets Mr Right. When Jess meets the delectable Nick, he ticks all of Marian’s boxes.

In the meantime, Jess’s latest second-hand collectible–a children’s book—gives her an idea and deciding to track down the girl whose name is scribbled inside the cover of that book, she uncovers more than she expected. “Amy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” The girl’s taciturn brother, Owen informs her. Intrigued Jess travels to the family pig farm in County Down. With a little help from a rather cute runt of the litter she names Wilbur, Jess is about to help put the past to rest and learn that appearances can be deceptive.

Then Marian announces she is coming to Dublin to sort her daughter’s increasingly tangled love life out and Jess’s chance of a happy ending like those in the story books she collects looks about as likely as Wilbur flying.

excerpt

“Shopping is surprisingly hard work, isn’t it?” Brianna said, not really expecting an answer as she flopped down into her chair.

Jess nodded, laying out their well-earned sandwiches and coffee. “It is when you are looking for something in particular. That’s what I like about op-shopping—I just happen across really cool stuff. Do you know what I was thinking earlier when I was busy getting dressed and undressed?”

“What?”

“That I wish to God someone would open a shop with fitting rooms that are dimly lit. I hate those horrible fluorescent lights that show every lump and bump. It’s not good for one’s psyche.”

“What lumps and bumps?” Brianna was indignant. “You wait until you have a baby—then you’ll know all about lumps and bumps, my girl! You want to see the muffins Harry’s left me with?” She reached around the back of her jeans and squeezed two imaginary pockets of fat. “It doesn’t matter what size I get down to; the only way I’ll get rid of these blueberry babies is by lipo.” Picking up her rather delicious-looking gourmet sandwich, she took a greedy chomp out of it.

Jess looked glumly down at her own meagre low-fat bean sprout veggie sarnie and silently cursed all dressing room mirrors.

“Don’t you have that Cajun cooking class tonight?” Brianna mumbled through her full mouth.

“I do. I’m looking forward to it. Apparently we will be making jambalaya, which sounds vaguely familiar and very exotic.” She frowned. “It also sounds calorific, which is why I am on the bean sprout sanger. Next week, I’m doing a cod fish casserole, which doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. It’s a Portuguese class and I know nothing about Portuguese cuisine apart from the fact they eat a lot of fish.”

“Well, I can’t help you there. We’re having Gran’s bangers and mash for dinner because I’ve got a PTA meeting tonight—good old plain, hearty tucker; you can’t beat it. My Gran says all men need a good serving of potatoes on their plate each night in order to fill them up.”

“So that’s what you do to keep your Pete happy, is it? Serve him up loads of spuds. Anyway, it’s alright for you and Granny Dierdre to advocate bangers and mash because you’re both built like whippets. It sucks—I so much as sniff mash spud and it goes to my waistline, whereas you eat what you like and never put a pound on.”

“It’s running around after Harry. Have a baby, Jess, and you’ll never have to worry about your figure again except for the post-birth muffin overhang, of course, and the sagging boobs and stretched stomach skin,” she lamented.

Jess subconsciously crossed her legs under the table. She was fairly sure Brianna wouldn’t be getting a job as a Weight Watchers advocate in the near future if that was the best dietary advice she could dole out.

“Have you had any more thoughts on your column? What you’re going to write about once you have finished the cooking school series and had enough of stuffing yourself silly on jumbaywotsit and Portuguese cat fish casserole?”

Cod fish, not cat, and I have had a couple of ideas, as it happens. I thought I could write about the celebrity lifestyle in Dublin now that one of my best friends is dating a Hollywood Hottie. Actually, it was you who gave me the inspiration.”

Brianna looked pleased. “When I told you to write about the blind date you were doubling on?”

“Yeah, except we didn’t know then that the other half of the double date was a major celebrity, did we?”

“I know and I still can’t get my head around the fact Nora kept it quiet and that our best friend is actually dating Ewan Reid.” She pulled a face. “It’s not fair you get to meet him first.”

“Yes, but we don’t know at what cost yet, do we? I may have to suffer through an evening with a Gollom clone.”

“Or—ha-ha,” Brianna snorted, “he could be one of those weird Trekkie guys in a giant nylon baby-gro.” She giggled, giving Jess a Vulcan two-fingered salute.

Jess gave her a two-fingered salute of a different kind back. “Yeah, thanks, that’s not helping. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I had another idea as well I wanted to run past you. It’s to do with a name in a book.”

“You’ve lost me. What name in what book?”

“Well, remember the Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs book I bought for my collection not long ago?”

“Yes. That reminds me—Harry’s right into all those traditional fairy stories at the moment. I made the mistake of reading him Hansel and Gretel the other night and managed to give myself nightmares. I’d hate to think what my poor son made of it. Though, to be honest, I don’t know what disturbed me more about the story: the abandoning of children in the forest, the wicked witch putting Hansel in a cage in order to fatten him up, or the fact that Harry didn’t seem at all fazed by it! I’d forgotten how horrible some of those old tales actually are.”

“Yeah, you’d have to wonder what was going through the mind of the Brothers Grimm when they penned that one. They wrote Little Red Riding Hood, too. Please don’t read that to Harry just yet. I had a phobia about wolves for years thanks to that little minx.”

“Don’t worry—we’re sticking with good old Hop on Pop, Dr Seuss for the foreseeable future. But, come on then, spill—what’s this idea of yours?”

“Okay, you know how one of the things I find intriguing about second-hand things is the thought of the life they have lived before they come to me?”

Brianna nodded. “That and the thrill of a good bargain.”

“Yeah, well there is that too. But books, especially children’s ones, are really special.”

“Because of the illustrations, right?”

“Definitely that yes but it is more than just the pictures. Children love to mark their territory and every book in my collection has its original owner’s name scrawled inside the cover.”

“I don’t get it—you told me once that decreases the book’s value.”

“It does but I don’t collect them for their monetary value. It’s hard to explain it properly but there’s just something about the idea of another child having loved that book the same way I loved it and I often wonder who they were or are now. Does that sound weird?”

Brianna grinned. “If I was Nora, I would say it definitely sounds weird but since it’s me you are talking to, I think I get it. You’d like to know the story behind the name in the book, is that it?”

“That’s it exactly! Who was that child? Did he or she pore over the stories and the pictures like I did? Were they daydreamers too? Who did they grow up to be?”

“Jaysus, you are such a romantic, Jessica Baré. Where are you going with this?”

“I am going to find her.”

“You’ve lost me again—who exactly are you off to find? And please don’t say yourself because you’re far too young for a mid-life crisis.”

Jess laughed. “Don’t worry; I’m not going to do an Eat, Pray, Love and frolic round Bali. I am going to find out what became of Amy Aherne from Ballymcguinness. She was six years old when her brother Owen gave her Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs for Christmas in 1973. So I am going to write about my journey to find the forty-six-year old Amy. I will do the detective work to find out who she is now, what she went on to do with her life and what that book meant to her. What do you think?”

Praise

‘Oh what a unique and amazing love story this turned out to be.’ Terry reviewer for Chicklit Plus

‘The book not only tells an amazing love story, but also the story of a tragedy that lives on in those left behind. The author is amazing with her humour and writes that side very well.’ Terry reviewer for Chicklit Plus

Meet the Author

Michelle Vernal lives in the pretty little town of Oxford, in New Zealand’s South Island. Writing is something she has always used as a way of expressing herself. Her first foray into the romantic and humorous world of her style of women’s fiction is recorded in her thirteen-year-old self’s compulsory school journal. In it, much to the delight of her English teacher, she described in minutiae the heartbreak of being dumped after her first school disco. Thankfully she has moved on since then and is now married with two boys.

After her first son was born, she attended a creative writing course at Canterbury University, and the first piece she ever penned was published by a New Zealand parenting magazine. She went on to write humorous; opinion styled pieces of her take on parenting but when the necessity for being politically correct got too much, she set herself the challenge of writing a novel. To date, she is penning book number five. Second Hand Jane is her third novel and was inspired by an inscription in the second-hand children’s books she collects. All her books are written with her trademark warmth and humour.

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