Saturday, July 2, 2022

Book Blitz with Excerpt + Teasers + Giveaway: Etude by Morgan Shamy @MorganShamy @XpressoTours


Etude by Morgan Shamy
Series: The Dark Nocturne #2
Publication date: June 28th, 2022

Synopsis:
For November Huntington, the past haunts worse than any ghost.

After spending a summer without Vincent, a tortured pianist who also happens to be immortal, November tries to move on. When kids begin to fall into comas, November is thrust back into the haunted, musical world. Except, this time, more danger lurks.

Vincent is powerful. Dreams are causing these comas, and November believes he's the one behind the attacks. To stop him, November must find the Blood Magic--the only power capable of helping her save these kids. But in doing so, she awakens a horrific group who live off of blood and kill for sport. What's worse? A brood of witches con their way in, hungry for the power at hand.

One by one, November finds all her loved ones being wrenched away. Fear grips her, and she's worried she might lose her mind, her sanity slowly fading, until she must face Vincent alone.

Is he her true love? Or is he out for her blood?

Only her dreams will tell.


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Excerpt
Warmth continued to spread inside her veins, stretching through her whole being, her skin alive and buzzing. The feeling seeped into her, stirring an awareness to every part of her body. She allowed the feeling to overtake her, send her mind spinning.

"Do you feel it?" Cam asked, his voice rough.

"Yes," November answered.

"Open up your mind, try to control the feeling. We need to search on the different layers we slip through."

Cam's hold on her tightened as if willing them to stay on the same plane. His jaw was clamped tight, his teeth grit together. November tried to follow Cam's lead, focusing in on her mind instead of the dance.

Everything was cloudy--hazy images and sparks and blurring shapes. The visions flicked from one to the next, blending together inside her head. It was impossible to stop the layers that were slipping from one to the other.

"Focus harder," Cam bit out.




Morgan Shamy is an ex-ballerina turned YA writer. She has been immersed in the arts since the young age of 4, where she performed various roles alongside a professional ballet company for over seven years, and has danced on prestigious stages like soloing at Carnegie Hall in New York City. She has taught hundreds of girls in her fifteen years of teaching, where some of her students have received full-ride scholarships to schools like School of American Ballet, the Harid Conservatory, Kirov Academy of Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet, to name a few.

Morgan discovered writing when her three-year-old son was diagnosed with cancer. It was through that experience which instilled the need to share art and magic with children through words on the page.

Morgan is also an accomplished concert pianist. She was the first girl in Utah to receive the 75 pt. Gold Cup in the Utah Federation of Music in piano solo/concerto competition. Morgan currently lives with her X-Games gold-medalist husband and four children in Salt Lake City, Utah.


Book Blitz with Excerpt + Teasers + Giveaway: Catching Quinn by Jennifer Bonds @jbondswrites @XpressoTours


Catching Quinn by Jennifer Bonds
Series: Waverly Wildcats #2
Publication date: June 28th, 2022

Synopsis:
What's a girl have to do to lose her virginity around here?

When I decided to ditch my V-card, I figured Greek Row was a sure thing.

I didn't count on Cooper-the-cockblocking-jockhole-DeLaurentis or his misguided sense of bro code putting an embarrassing end to my hookup. After all, Waverly's star wide receiver is the most notorious player on campus.

He's arrogant. Infuriating. Sexy as hell.

Just ask him.

Worse? He's made it his personal mission to scare off every guy who shows an interest in me. But I'm not about to be outwitted by a hypocritical baller with more ego than sense. I may be a hot mess, but I'm not pushover.

Two can play this game, and I'm playing to win.


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Excerpt
"You know my sister, right?" Noah grins and ruffles my hair like I'm five freaking years old. "Calamity Quinn."

Heat floods my cheeks and I chew viciously, trying not to choke on the fluffy carbs before I can kill my brother. I'm sure my parents won't miss him. Much.

"That seat's taken," I say, crossing my fingers under the table. Any conversation that involves Noah, Cooper, and I can't possibly end well. "Sorry."

Another lie.

It's a miracle Coop hasn't told Noah about Operation Spontaneous Hookup, and I'm not about to press my luck now.

"Really?" Noah asks, not bothering to mask his doubt. Like it's so hard to believe I'm meeting someone for coffee.

Coop smirks and shakes his head, shoulders trembling with silent laughter.

Jerk.

"Who are you meeting?" Noah widens his stance and glances around the cafe. "Anyone I know?"

"Nope."

Coop smiles, that sexy ass grin of his extending all the way to his eyes. "Please tell me you haven't added blind dates to your playbook."

"What playbook?" Noah turns back to me, suspicion darkening his features. "You haven't played sports a day in your life."

"There's no playbook." I roll my eyes and hook a thumb toward Cooper. "You know he took some nasty hits during the Iowa game, right? His brains are probably scrambled."

Noah gives me a WTF look and glances at Coop, no doubt calculating the odds that I've offended his brother.

"Besides, even if I was on a blind date, it's no one's business but my own."

"Beg to differ," Noah says at the same time Coop blurts, "Bullshit."

I groan and tip my head to the sky. This cannot be happening.

Oh, it's happening.

Noah turns to Cooper, giving him the same WTF look he gave me seconds ago.

"She's your sister." Coop shrugs, like this is a perfectly normal conversation, which, spoiler alert: it's not. "If she's meeting random dudes, she should at least tell someone where she's going and who she's meeting." The cocky jockhole winks and adds, "Safety first."

"Yeah," I huff, piling on the sarcasm. "I'll bet you're a real safety guy."

Noah's head swivels, his gaze ping-ponging between Coop and me, before he announces, "I'm getting coffee. I need caffeine to deal with this mess."

Pretty sure the mess he's referring to is me, but I don't even care because he turns on his heel and heads for the counter.

Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

Unfortunately, Cooper doesn't follow.

Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away.

I reach for my muffin, but Coop gets there first, snatching the whole darn thing.

"Hey!"

He lifts it to his nose and inhales deeply. "Is this pumpkin?"

Coop doesn't wait for a reply, just takes a ginormous bite and grisn down at me as he chews, a big ass smile on his face.

"You're the worst." I sigh. "Surely there's someone else you can go annoy?"

He shrugs, and I swear to God, there's a twinkle in his eye. "Turnabout is fair play, sweetheart."

"In case you've forgotten," I say, crossing my arms, "I never agreed to play this messed up game."

My life is enough of a trainwreck without him interfering at every turn.

"Damn." Coop heaves a beleaguered sigh, but I don't miss the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "And here I thought we were friends."

"Friends share." I arch a brow and stare pointedly at the muffin. My muffin.

"Exactly." He tears what's left of it in half and offers me the larger piece. "Which is why I figured you wouldn't mind if I sampled the goods. You know, since last time you accidentally took mine."

It was no accident and we both know it, but I just smile up at him with wide-eyed innocence and take the proffered muffin.

"So." He shifts his weight and adjusts the bag slung over his shoulder. "Have you given up your mission or should I expect to see you at Sig Chi Saturday night?"

I open my mouth to give a snarky reply, but Coop's words echo in my head.

Turnabout is fair play.

The cocky cockblocker--try saying that three times fast--has blocked me twice now. Twice. Surely, he doesn't expect me to just take it lying down?

No freaking way.

If the arrogant jockhole wants to play dirty, it's game on.

I smile sweetly at Coop, meeting those gorgeous blue eyes head-on. "I guess you'll find out Saturday night."






Jennifer Bonds is the USA Today bestselling author of sizzling contemporary romance with sassy heroines, sexy alphas, and a whole lot of mischief. She's a sucker for enemies-to-lovers stories, laugh-out-loud banter, and over-the-top grand gestures. Jennifer lives in Pennsylvania, where her overactive imagination and weakness for reality TV keep life interesting. She's lucky enough to live with her own real-life hero, two adorable (and sometimes crazy) children, and one rambunctious K9. Loves Buffy, Mexican food, a solid Netflix binge, the Winchester brothers, cupcakes, and all things zombie. Sings off-key.

To connect with Jen--and get a FREE book--visit her website!

You can find her on Facebook and Instagram.


Book Blitz with Except + Teasers + Giveaway: Bratva Darling by Sabine Barclay @XpressoTours


Bratva Darling by Sabine Barclay
Series: The Ivankov Brotherhood #1
Publication date: June 28th, 2022
Published by: Oliver Heber Books

Synopsis:
I wasn't prepared for her...

She just got me to pay three times as much as I wanted for a company I'll buy and destroy.

She knows who I am. The bratva doesn't scare her.

Intelligent, brave, and unstoppable.

I'll make her mine.

She doesn't know it yet, but we're soulmates.

I'll take her to her limits. Then give her all her heart desires.

The Bratva Darling is an interconnecting, standalone Dark Mafia Romance with a HEA and no cliffhanger. It contains extra-steamy scenes that will make your toes curl and your granny blush. This is book one in The Ivankov Brotherhood, a six-book series that'll keep you warm at night.


Available at:



Excerpt
Laura

As I sit across from the four Kutsenko brothers, I press my lips together to keep from drooling. No four men should be so strikingly handsome. Not all from the same family, anyway. I fight a valiant battle against letting my gaze drift toward the eldest, Maksim, whose ice-blue eyes bore into me. After years of negotiating billion-dollar investment contracts while facing countless ruthless businessmen, I've learned to keep my expression studiously blank. But it's a true struggle today. Instead, I focus my attention on the squirrelly lawyer sitting across the conference table. While he's disingenuous with each comment, he's a good negotiator. But I'm better. How cliché am I?

While I feel Maksim watching me, I focus on Dimitry Yakovitch as he continues to argue the merits of the venture capitalist company I represent, RK Capital Group, merging with Kutsenko Partners. What he means is the merits of Kutsenko Partners acquiring RK Capital Group, then stripping it and making it another money-laundering shell corporation. While most people in New York have little awareness of the Russian mafia, I do. The Kutsenko brothers' names appear on no titles or deeds anywhere in New York City, but it wasn't difficult to determine which shell companies likely belong to them. Their assumption that I'm unfamiliar with them is proving beneficial to me as they continue to whisper amongst themselves in Russian. I think they may even believe they're convincing me that they don't speak much English.

The senior partners of RK Capital Group know who I'm negotiating with, though they may not know I'm aware of these Russians' more nefarious operations. They've given me the go-ahead to agree to a merger with an eventual acquisition, but only for the right price. A price to the tune of twenty billion dollars. Considering an investment firm like Goldman Sachs is worth nearly one-hundred-and-twenty billion dollars, my clients' asking price appears reasonable.

"Mr. Yakovitch, I shall stop you now." I raise my left hand, pen caught between my index and middle fingers. When I have his attention, I lean back in my chair and casually twirl my pen over my index finger and thumb. "Fifty billion is my clients' asking price. You know that. Your clients know that. RK doesn't oppose the merger. What they oppose is the insulting offer you've made. It's nearly noon, and I'm hungry, Mr. Yakovitch. I have a delicious ham sandwich waiting for me. I even have three chocolate chip cookies waiting for me. If we aren't going to make any progress, I shall let you go, so I can move onto my eagerly anticipated lunch."

I cant my head just enough for me to appear as though my gaze rests solely on the opposing attorney's face, but I can see each Kutsenko brothers' reaction. My face battles yet again against showing my emotions as I fight not to smirk. Their muted but surprised expressions confirm what I already know.

"Please tell your clients to make a reasonable counteroffer, or I will conclude this meeting and enjoy my ham sandwich and cookies."

Dmitry glares at me before turning to Maksim and his three brothers. In rapid Russian, he doesn't interpret my suggestion. Oh no. There's no need for that. I can't catch every word because his voice is too low. But I catch something along the lines of "The bitch refuses to budge. What now? A fucking ham sandwich. More like a stick up her ass."

Maksim swivels his chair to look at his brothers. In Russian, he says, "Fifty billion is ridiculous. She's not so stupid or naive not to know that. My guess is they'll settle for twenty billion. We offer fifteen."

"That's barely better than what we already offered," Aleksei, the second-oldest brother, argues. "She'll be eating the fucking sandwich and dipping her cookies in milk before we walk out the door. We need the buildings."

"We offer twenty, Maks," Bogdan, the youngest, insists.

As I watch the brothers discuss, their voices barely lowered, I pull my lunch sack from the black leather satchel by my feet and set it beside my laptop. It's a ridiculously pink floral bag with an embroidered monogram, the L and D overlapping. It's an empty prop, but they don't know that. I watch as five sets of eyes narrow. I offer a smile that would appear innocent in any setting other than this meeting. It's patronizing, and I know it.











Sabine Barclay, a nom de plume also writing Historical Romance as Celeste Barclay, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Sabine enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She's an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower. Before becoming a full-time author, Sabine was a Social Studies and English teacher. She holds degrees in International Affairs (BA), Secondary Social Science (MAT), and Political Management (MPS). She channels that knowledge into creating engrossing contemporary romances that will make your toes curl and your granny blush.







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