fbpx

Release Launch, Trailer & Excerpt: Genealogy by Mae Wood

Genealogy_Banner

How long would you wait for love?

MWGenealogyBookCover_HIGH

Title: Genealogy
Author: Mae Wood
Publisher: Atacama Books
Genre: Romance/Women’s Fiction
Release Date: October 25, 2018

Blurb

Inspired by real, hundred-year-old love letters.

My great-grandmother’s name is bold across the cream envelope, now golden at the seams with age. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen graceful, purposeful handwriting with a fountain pen and not the hasty scrawl of ballpoint.

Alice Hirshhorn, Astoria Hotel, Seattle Washington.

“Letters to Great-grandma Alice,” I say with wonder, tracing my fingers over the faded postmark and foreign stamps.

December 1915. Philippine Islands.

I turn the thick envelope in my palm, slide out the tightly folded pages, and unfold the thin paper, taking care not to tear the letters that were important enough to keep for a century.

My dearest Alice

“Great-grandpa was in the Philippines?” I ask.

“Oh no. Not your great-grandfather,” answers Grammie, her eyes twinkling with her mother’s secrets. “Elliott.”

~~~

At thirty-three and with her future unclear, Ali Waller finds her way home again. A box of long-forgotten love letters written to her great-grandmother holds the unlikely key to Ali finding her new path.

As she tracks down the letter writer and his descendants, Ali learns the magic of love, hope, and resilience.

Told by three characters, and across century and an ocean, Genealogy is an enchanting story about love and loss, taking chances, and embracing the surprises that life brings.

19692-add-to-goodreads-button Buy

* FREE with Kindle Unlimited *

AMAZON UNIVERSAL

Genealogy-IG-changed-my-mind Trailer

Excerpt

Present day – August – Ali

She didn’t want to move, and I didn’t want her to move either. But we were doing it, together. Sifting and sorting. Shredding and donating. Culling a lifetime into piles to be packed and placed into boxes. The lucky things would end up in my grandmother’s new six-hundred-twenty-three square foot assisted-living apartment. The not-so-lucky would end up on a curb.

“These linens,” she said, pointing to the bottom drawer of the sideboard in her formal dining room. “You need them.”

“Grammie, I don’t even have a dining room table,” I said, trucking along in our project to conquer the contents of at least one room this weekend.

“You had one before and you’ll have one again. And these are Irish linen.”

I thought of my tiny kitchen table, covered in discarded mail and unread magazines, not draped in substantial creamy white. She knew I didn’t have the space. I made space for the vintage black satin peep-toe pumps of hers from the fifties and had placed those in the “Ali” pile with a smile, but linens were a different story. The tablecloths were huge. For a table big enough to seat a dozen guests.

“They were Alice’s,” she said.

The trump card played, I bent and pulled them from the low drawer. I was Alice’s namesake, but I’d always gone by Ali because Alice felt formal and traditional, two words that didn’t fit me. She was the great-grandmother who I’d never met, who died a decade before I was born, but whose existence was never far from my mind. “Ali. A-L-I,” I’d explained a million times over my life. “It’s short for Alice. I’m named for my great-grandmother.”

“Well, one good thing is that your monograms match.”

I fingered the tiny beverage napkins, trimmed in hand-tatted lace and embroidered with ALW.

ALW—I smiled. Alice Lenore Wertheimer. Alice Lenora Waller. I was flirting with becoming Alice Waller Sayer, but I was solidly myself at the moment.

“Did she embroider these?” I asked, the old fabric stiff and smooth to the touch.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember my mother doing any needlework, but I suppose all women did back then.”

“True,” I said, flattening out the material with my palm and tugging out a crease. I dragged yet another plastic bin over and began piling the linens in, amazed that they had survived the years.

“The story on one of those tablecloths is that it was a wedding present from some member of the Denny family.”

Ah, an old Seattle story. I knew it wasn’t going to be long before I got one. My ancestors were early settlers of the city and my grandmother carried the banner of native Seattleite proudly, looking down her pioneer nose at the Microsofties and the Californians who had invaded her precious land. And though she’d moved to Kansas City with my grandfather nearly fifty years ago, the city was in her DNA.

I half-listened to her prattle on about some trip to Japan to obtain plants and animals for the Woodland Park Zoo as I examined the linens and placed them in the plastic storage tub.

“Okay,” I said, looking around the room, the sideboard now empty. Something accomplished today, and it made me feel good to have one of the many small tasks that it would take to empty this big house done. I looked at my watch. “I have to leave at three to head back to the hospital, so what can we get done in an hour?”

“One drawer to go,” she said from the dining chair where she’d settled in while I’d knelt in front of the sideboard. “The bottom one.”

Her words made my chest ache but also soothed them. I hated that she was getting confused more often. It reminded me that one day Grammie would be gone, but it also convinced me that we were making the right decision to move her. No more worry about her alone in this big house.

“All done,” I said, pointing to my tub of linens.

“The bottom-bottom one, Ali. The apron is a drawer.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said, feeling sheepish that I’d thought she had been confused. “A secret drawer?”

“That’s the point,” she said. The sideboard had been in this house my entire life and I’d never known that. I tilted my head to look at the piece, not quite believing her. “It’s where your grandpa kept his favorite pistol.”

“Still there?” I said with a smile, reaching down under the lip of the cabinet.

“Well, maybe. It’s been a long time since I dug around in that thing.”

“I’m going to change your name to Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler,” I said, giving the concealed drawer a tug. It didn’t budge. Maybe she was confused after all. “Or Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. But only if we find a Degas or pirate gold.”

“It was a statue of an angel. Leonardo da Vinci,” she corrected me. In and out. Touch and go. Here and there. I was never sure where a conversation would lead us, and based upon the swelling in her extremities, I wasn’t sure today was going to be a good day for coherent conversation. It wasn’t her head so much as her heart that was slowly killing her by refusing to pump. She needed access to round the clock medical care now, not just sitters and family at the house, and we were making that happen although no one was happy about it.

“Oh, that’s right,” I replied, the memories flooding back of the story of a headstrong girl and her younger brother running away to the Met. “What I really remember about that book was them taking a bath in the fountain.” My grandmother and I were very close. The afternoons of my childhood had been spent at her house with my brother and sister. And while my parents were at work, Grammie showered us with troves of books. She was a children’s librarian. Or she had been until she’d gotten married. Because, as she’d explained a million times to me over the years, in those days nice women didn’t work outside the home after they were married, and so she’d retreated to a life of children and tennis and dinner parties.

I gave the drawer another tug and it budged a few inches, but it didn’t slide open.

“Oh, and the sideboard is yours too. No argument. It was—”

“Alice’s?” I guessed as I wiggled the drawer open to find not pieces of eight or a sketch of a ballerina, but more table linens.

“No, her mother’s. You’ll be the fifth generation of women in our family to own it.”
I looked at the dark, heavy Victorian behemoth with new eyes, knowing it was going home with me. And knowing I had nowhere in my tiny, Ikea-furnished apartment to put it, but I spoke the truth: “Thank you. I’ll be a good caretaker.”

“I know you will, sweet pea.”

I looked down at the linens, focusing on the task rather than the meaning of the work I was doing, filling the plastic bin with more ancient fabric than I’d ever begin to use. Under the last tablecloth, I found a small, flat box. The pistol? I recognized the foil-stamped logo. Frederick & Nelson, the grand Seattle department store that now only existed on Grammie’s bad days when she’d ask me or someone else to take her there for lunch.

“Grandpa’s gun?” I asked, setting the box into my lap as I sat on the floor. I lifted the lid.

“Papers,” I said, a little weary at the prospect of spending the last bit of time before I had to leave focused on her reading each paper carefully before deciding whether she could part with it.

My grandmother was a pack rat. I’d recently dropped off two decades of yellow-spined National Geographics at the recycling center and her garage was still stuffed to the gills with boxes of papers. I’d had visions of a huge bonfire while she was at a doctor’s appointment just to speed up the process.

The box resting in my cross-legged lap, I riffled through the contents. “Letters,” I said, pulling one out. At least it wasn’t receipts from the nineteen sixties, though the hospital bill from my mom’s appendicitis at age eight had been a gem. The total bill was a few hundred dollars and Mom had spent three days in a children’s ward. Most of my patients were sent home by the end of the day with a bill in the thousands.

The cream envelope was golden at the seams, the clean, cursive writing enchanting. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen graceful, purposeful handwriting with a fountain pen and not just a hasty scrawl of ballpoint on a scratch pad.

Alice Hirshhorn, the letter’s front proclaimed.

Genealogy_Collage

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Bio

Professional sassypants and novelist, Mae Wood has been a bookworm her entire life.

She loves cheeses, complicated crafts that she’ll start but never complete, and puns.

A while ago Mae decided that she needed to give up the fear that she couldn’t write “great literature” and write what she wants to read.

And she wants romance. And laughter. And real life.

She wants heroines who are brave. Brave enough to be themselves and brave enough to fall in love. She wants men who are strong and kind.

Mae is married, and has two darling children and an old dog who naps at her feet while she writes.

Keep in touch with Mae and find bonus content at her website — www.maewood.com

Book+Main | Instagram | Facebook | Reader Group | Special Genealogy Pinterest Board
Hosted By
P&B_Promotions Cover

 

Release Launch for the Vitalli Family Series

VF_Series_

“It’s not a diamond, you can’t wear it on the right finger, and it doesn’t come with a proposal, but it’s yours.”

EllenWilder-NothingWithoutYou-800x1200

Title: Nothing Without You
Series: Vitalli Family #1
Author: Ellen Wilder
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Kindred Ink Press
Release Date: April 18, 2018

NWY_Blurb

From author Ellen Wilder comes book one in the Vitalli family saga — a new contemporary romance shining light on the struggles and triumphs of loving someone with a mental illness.

Pharmaceutical botanist, Julian Vitalli, spends his time researching medicinal marijuana to aid cancer patients and help manage his bipolar disorder. With two ex-wives under his belt, love was the last thing he was looking for when it crashed outside his house.

Liza Thomas lost her childhood best friend to the foster care system and began her career as a case manager to keep others from the same fate. Still mending her heart after her last breakup and frustrated with her increasing workload, Liza never expected romance to appear on an icy road.

Can a tortured man fighting bipolar disorder and a woman with a fractured heart the size of Indiana be exactly what the other needs to survive?

19692-add-to-goodreads-button NWY_Buy

Click HERE to Find Your Favorite Retailer

NWY_Teaser NWY_Excerpt

Liza clutched the steering wheel as the car spun around on the icy road. Her shoulder and head slammed into the driver’s side window. Pain shot through her, and she groaned as the vehicle came to a complete stop snapping her body forward.

Time slowed, and the scene in front of her went fuzzy. Sounds echoed as if she were in a tunnel but were muted at the same time. Dogs barked, and car doors slammed.

A cold breeze hit her as the door opened, and she shivered.

The scents of sandalwood and cedar wafted into the car.

“Are you all right?” a male voice said.

Someone reached across her to turn off the vehicle.

She blinked twice as the lights in the car flickered on.

Liza twisted her head, but a green thermal shirt stretched across a taut chest blocked her view. Her mouth opened, but no words came.

“Did you hear me?”

Her gaze traveled up to find mysterious deep blue eyes staring at her with an intensity she’d never experienced before.

The man’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head.

This time, the words tumbled out. “I’m okay. What just happened?”

“Stay put. I’ll call an ambulance.” He stuck his hand in his back pocket and brought out his phone.

“No,” she mumbled and rubbed the side of her head. “I don’t need an ambulance.”

He put his phone away, leaned across her, and released her seatbelt before helping her swing her legs out of the car. “Are you sure you’re all right? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two.”

He nodded and held out his hand.

“I’m fine.” She grasped the stranger’s hand, and sparks flew down her wrist. Her body stilled, and she fixated on his eyes as he pulled her to her feet. Her legs trembled as she stood.

His lips curled into a half smile. “Hi.” His hand came to rest on her lower back, and he led her out of the road.

“Were you the one who hit me?”

He pointed toward the driveway where two women stood. “No, my mother and aunt crashed into your car when they came out of my driveway.” He removed his hand. “Are you sure you don’t need an ambulance?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The two women whispered to each other and one gave a slight wave.

Liza waved back. She didn’t recognize either of them, but there was no reason to be rude.

“Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. Mom hit a patch of ice and couldn’t get the vehicle stopped.” He offered his hand, and she accepted it. “Julian Vitalli.”

“Liza Thomas.” A gust of wind blew through her thin sweater, and she shivered, rubbing her arms to warm her. “It’s cold out here.”

NWY_Review Break

“Those are stolen moments, honey. And you’ll find they save a heart as much — or more than — a dozen roses or a diamond ring.”

EllenWilder-StolenMoments-800x1200

Title: Stolen Moments
Series: Vitalli Family #2
Author: Ellen Wilder
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Kindred Ink Press
Release Date: May 9, 2018

SM_Blurb

From author Ellen Wilder comes the second book in the Vitalli family saga — a standalone contemporary romance about overcoming life’s big struggles by focusing on the little things.

Trevor Vitalli’s plan involved a life in the military — single and childless. Now honorably discharged thanks to a severe knee injury, he’s ready to start his new life as a conservation officer as soon as his doctor gives the all clear.

After losing their last known family member, Dr. Arianna Halsey and her fifteen-year-old daughter, Mina, move to Indiana where Ari lands a new job, attempts to work through her trust issues, and stumbles through one surprise after another.

When Trevor and Arianna cross paths, the attraction between the two is instantaneous and incredibly sweet, even with the addition of Ari’s daughter. Can the trio adjust to life’s hiccoughs and find their way to happiness together?

19692-add-to-goodreads-button SM_Buy

Click HERE to Find Your Favorite Retailer

SM_Teaser SM_Excerpt

At midnight under a full moon, Dr. Arianna Halsey rushed down the obstetrics hall of Bryton Hospital. Beige walls whizzed past her, and the staff raced around as chaos reigned supreme. The swarm of people brought a wave of claustrophobia, almost as if she were swimming in a sea of hospital scrubs. She blew out a breath to rid herself of the building stress and skidded to a stop.

The door of the labor and delivery ward swung open, and a nurse stepped out. “Oh, thank God you’re here. Room two. She’s pushed twice, and the baby is crowning.”

Arianna hastened through the double doors and into the delivery room.

“Where were you? I’m pushing.” The woman on the bed screamed.

Arianna walked into the gown a nurse held out then slid on a pair of rubber gloves.

The nurse leaned in and whispered, “There’s a gramzilla in the room.”

Arianna stifled a laugh. A rolling stool sat at the edge of the drop-down bed. She sat down, rolled forward, and touched the woman’s legs. “All right, give me one good push, and let’s see what we can do to speed this up.”

“She’s been pushing.” The grandmother-to-be gave her a haughty glare then as if she were the doctor. “The baby’s too big.”

Arianna ignored the anxious grandmother and patted Alexis’s leg. Getting no response, she patted again, coaxing Alexis to look her in the eye and focus on what she was saying. “She is not too big, and you can do this.” Arianna gently massaged the skin from around the baby’s head. “She’s crowning. Two more good pushes, and she’ll be out.”

“Who is this doctor? She doesn’t know anything. I’m her mother. She needs a C-section like I did.” The mother hissed and threw up her hands.

“It hurts. I can’t do this.” Alexis tried to clamp her knees together and moaned as her back arched away from the bed.

“I know it hurts, Alexis, but you can do it. Push for me. You’re fighting gravity. Drop your chin to your chest, hold the back of your knees. Mom, you can help too. Hold onto the left knee as she pushes, and with your other hand, bring her shoulder up and forward. She needs your help.” Arianna put her hand on Alexis’ right knee to help from that side.

Alexis bared down. “Ow, ow, ow! I can’t.” She leaned into the push, and as she did her mother let go of her left leg to get behind her.

Arianna’s eyes widened as she tried to move out of the way but was too late. Alexis’ foot connected with Arianna’s shoulder, and the rolling chair went flying across the room. Her head connected with the wall, and everything went black.

SM_Review Break NWY_Giveaway

A Rafflecopter Giveaway

SM_Bio

Ellen Wilder was born and raised in Indiana. She is happily married to her husband of five years and enjoys raising their two girls and one boy in the house where she grew up. They have a border collie/corgi mix named Loki.

Her parents started reading to Ellen and her siblings at a very young age. They quickly tired of books for younger children and turned to chapter books like Tarzan, The Hobbit, and Lord of the Rings forging Ellen’s love for reading.

Ellen started writing in Junior High with an assignment from her computer writing teacher. Her first attempt at a modern day Old Yeller crossover with NYPD Blue was “awful”, but that didn’t stop the inspiration from flowing. Ellen now writes contemporary romance novels with a realistic twist to them. If you’re looking for fairy tales, you won’t find them here as her characters deal with real life issues. She loves helping people with their writing, paying forward the help that she has received allowing her to be where she is today.

Sign up for Ellen’s monthly newsletter to stay up to date on everything Ellen Wilder related. http://eepurl.com/bolcE1

Website | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Instagram | Amazon | Newsletter | Street Team

KindredLogo2018alldark

Kindred Ink Press is an independent publisher of (almost) all things romance. From romantic comedy to cozy mystery, historical to contemporary real-life romance, we’ve got a bit of romance for just about everyone. Our books range from quick reads to those of epic length and can be found in digital and print formats with audiobooks coming soon.

Sign up for the Kindred Insider email newsletter to receive new releases, sales, and exclusive content in your inbox! http://kindredinkpress.com/insider

Website | Submissions | Amazon | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Instagram | Newsletter | Street Team

P&B_Promotions Cover

Release Launch: A Case of Serendipity by K.J. Farnham

ACoS FB Cover

Could something more be brewing between these two and this coffeehouse case?

ACoS ebook

Title: A Case of Serendipity
Author: K.J. Farnham
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 20, 2018

Blurb

Ruth Bateman is at her wit’s end. If Bucky’s Beans doesn’t stop spamming her phone with discount codes for frou-frou java concoctions, she’s going to flip. After multiple failed attempts to unsubscribe, Ruth takes to the company’s Facebook page to vent her frustration over the never-ending texts.

When attorney, Henry Mancuso, stumbles upon Ruth’s complaint, he has no idea that a simple Facebook scroll is going to change his life. Now, he has to get Ruth to agree to a class action lawsuit when she’s just looking for some peace on her mobile device—not a drawn-out case against a coffeehouse giant.

As Ruth and Henry battle the legal waters, a friendship full of fun and spontaneity blooms. But could something more be brewing between these two and this coffeehouse case?

add-to-goodreads-button Buy

Amazon Universal | iBooks | Kobo | B&N

ACoS teaser2 Excerpt

Still standing on my bed, I glance out the window and wonder if any of the condo residents across the river are watching me. One second, I’m watching a show on C-SPAN about the science and physics behind the conveniences of everyday life, and the next I’m reading a message from Ruth Bateman and jumping on my bed. Anthony is right. I am a nerdy lawyer.

Clutching my phone, I hop off my bed and retrieve the remote for my blinds from the drawer of my nightstand. As I hold down the button to close them, I scrutinize the mess I’ve made of my bed.

I’m straightening my sheets and comforter when my phone dings. Anxious to see if it’s Ruth Bateman, I stub my toe, causing the nail to bend backward. But that doesn’t stop me from pacing as I read the email that could set the Bucky’s case into motion.

Hi again, Henry. (I hope it’s okay if I call you that. Please feel free to call me Ruth.) My email address is ruthieb@gmail.com. Just so you’re aware, I don’t want to be involved with a lawsuit, nor do I want any sort of compensation from Bucky’s. (I assume you don’t do anything without the prospect of getting paid, so that’s why I’m bringing this up.) All I want is for the texts to stop.

Have a good night and enjoy the rest of your weekend!
Ruth 

“Okay,” I whisper, as I make my way to my office. I have a habit of thinking out loud when I’m trying to solve a problem, and Ruth’s comment about not wanting to be involved with a lawsuit has problem written all over it. “Maybe she’ll change her mind when she sees how many others are receiving the texts . . .” I type as I talk. “Maybe she’ll want to be more involved then.”

I’ve gone over this case in my head dozens upon dozens of times, so I know exactly what the letter to Ruth should say. Within five minutes, I’m done, and the message is whizzing through cyberspace to her inbox.

Now, I play the waiting game. I kill time by cleaning my keyboard with short bursts of compressed air. Then I dust and straighten the items on my desk—a stapler, a statue of the Empire State Building (which serves as the perfect paperweight) from when my family drove to New York City when I was in eighth grade, a framed photo of my family from last Christmas, and a magnetic paperclip holder.

By the time eleven o’clock rolls around, I decide it’s time to shut down my computer and head back to bed. Unlike me, Ruth Bateman must have better things to do on a Friday night than worry about unsolicited text messages from Bucky’s Beans.

ACoS teaser1 Bio

K.J. Farnham writes contemporary fiction for women and young adults. Her books are character-driven and focus on realistic themes like love, relationships, self-doubt, and social issues. She tries to infuse humor into her writing when appropriate, because she believes laughter is crucial for navigating through rough patches in life.

Farnham is a former educator who grew up in the Milwaukee area and now lives in western Wisconsin with her husband and three children. When not keeping up with her kids, she can usually be found reading or writing. Coffee, acoustic music, beach outings, and road trips are among her favorite things.

Amazon | BookBub | Facebook | Goodreads | Instagram | Twitter

Giveaway

A Rafflecopter Giveaway

Serendipity_Terrible Hosted By P&B_Promotions Cover

Release Launch: The Bachelors by E.S. Carter

FB_Banner

It is a well-known fact that a single man without a penny to his name must be in want of a rich wife. . .

5x8Template

Title: The Bachelors
Author: E.S. Carter
Release Date: October 23, 2017

Blurb

It is a well-known fact that a single man without a penny to his name must be in want of a rich wife.

Darcy, Bingham and Wick Austen are about to lose the family business.

Without a miracle or a substantial cash investment, Austen’s – the bookstore chain that was established by their great-great grandfather – will go into receivership.

A chance encounter at a charity ball with the attractive, single and filthy-rich Bennet sisters has Wick Austen convincing his brothers that the way to save their livelihoods rests at the Bennet’s red-soled-shoe clad feet.

But these three women are far more than your average, simpering, society-loving heiresses.

Darcy isn’t so sure about his youngest brother’s plan, especially when the smart, feisty and ridiculously sexy Eliza Bennet shoots down his advances in a ball of flames, and accuses him of being a proud and egotistical jerk.

Meanwhile, Bingham meets the sweet and approachable Jane, and insta-love ensues, and Wick gets used up and spat out by the youngest and most flighty sister, Lydia.

Will the Austen bachelors secure a wife and save the family name or will they become the Bennet sister’s latest conquests?

*Inspired by Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, The Bachelors is a contemporary twist with added naughtiness*

add-to-goodreads-button

Purchase Links

 AMAZON UNIVERSAL 

 ALL RETAILERS 

Bachelor 2

Excerpt

“I’ll take a Dirty Martini,” the man to her back said, the smile in his voice evident with every word.

Lydia remained silent and focused on her task, spotting a corkscrew in a small tray of implements just below the counter.

“Isn’t it rude to ignore a paying guest?” he continued, his tone still humorous.

Lydia rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her and punched the tip of the corkscrew into the cork. As she twisted, he continued to talk to her back.

“Careful,” he warned. “You’re going to force it into the bottle, and the trick is to get it out, or you’ll spoil the wine.”

Her hand paused mid-twist, and she turned to face the man once more. She stared at him for a beat, until his face began to look uncomfortable under her gaze and she watched him fight the need to squirm under her scrutiny.

“What are you looking at?” he queried, attempting to mask his discomfort under bravado, but Lydia knew men. She knew how to entrap them, seduce them or even scare them away.

Passing her gaze from his waist to the top of his head and back to his eyes, she stated flatly, “Your father’s incorrect use of a condom.”

The man’s gaze widened briefly before sharpening, and Lydia awaited his response, enjoying this game more than she’d thought she would.

“Are you trying to insult me?”

“I would love to—” she continued, twisting hard against the corkscrew and watched him gloat when the cork slid deeper into the neck of the bottle before plopping into the liquid below. Unperturbed she finished, “—But I fear I would not do as well as nature already has.”

Closeup of tempting bright red lips of young curly woman touched by her hand

Author Bio

ES Carter lives in Cardiff, South Wales. The home of castles, dragons and folklore.

Her family joke that she was born with a book in her hand, and the urge to write stories soon followed.

At eleven, she won her school’s literary prize. At ages fourteen to sixteen – her poetry phase after falling in love with Dylan Thomas and e.e. cummings – she had a few poems published, but life, love and family overtook her dreams, and she was in her thirties when she began the scary journey of self-publishing.

Her debut and internationally best-selling series, ‘Love by Numbers’, are a set of interconnected stand alone romances, all with varying themes of love. From second-chance to romantic comedy and M/M romance. These stories do not need to be read in order, in fact, she is often guilty of advising readers to start at the last book and work their way back through.

Contemporary romance is not the only genre she writes, her second series, ‘The Red Order’, is as dark and twisted as you can get, but there is beauty there too if you can open your eyes and look.

With many more stories bursting to be set free, she hopes you stay along for the ride.

She loves to connect with readers, so please feel free to friend/follow her on Facebook, IG and Twitter or join her reader’s group, E’s Elite.

Author Links

FACEBOOKINSTAGRAMTWITTERBOOKBUBAMAZON
• GOODREADSNEWSLETTERWEBSITE

4_1_Collage

Proudly Hosted by:
P&B_Promotions Cover

 

Release Launch: Defining Us by Taylor Delong

DU Banner_RL

Title: Defining Us
Author: Taylor Delong
Release Date: September 26, 2017

DU FINAL COVER

Synopsis:

I was never a girl who believed in love. And love at first sight? Surely that didn’t truly exist. So imagine my surprise when, after one kiss from Grayson Abbott, I asked him to marry me!

I was kidding of course, but there was something special about the guy that even I couldn’t deny.

Our connection was instant; he felt it, too. The only problem was he didn’t know the secret of my past that I buried years ago. The closer we became, the further down I buried that secret.

I know he deserves my truth, but when I finally come clean, will there still be an “us”?

Add to Goodreads

Purchase Links:

*Free with Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

DU-Roller coaster

Excerpt:

I should have anticipated the kiss. It’s not like I didn’t want him to kiss me. I so did, so many times before he actually made his move. But when he finally made his move, he caught me off guard. In the best possible way.

His lips crash to mine. He doesn’t even hesitate before his tongue finds its way into my mouth. I part my lips for it, almost as if I can’t wait for it to get into my mouth. He massages my tongue with his, but not in the way he started the kiss. It’s gentler this time, until I kick it up a notch.

Somehow my hands find his neck, and his find my backside, just above the waist, but soon his hands find their way up and he entwines his fingers in my hair. He tugs gently, all the while his tongue is inside my mouth.

He’s managed to turn us so that my back is now up against the pool table. I find myself being lifted off the ground, and he sits my ass on the table. He plants himself in between my thighs, like earlier in the night. He pauses the kiss, just enough time to turn his hat around on his head, but then his lips are back on mine. This time, he pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and tugs gently. A small moan escapes my lips, and his dark eyes go a little wilder. He drags his tongue along my lip in his mouth, and then his tongue is back into my mouth. I lick the underside of his tongue with mine as my lip slips out of his.

DU Teaser Overwhelm

Giveaway:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Author Bio:

Taylor Delong has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. It’s always been her dream to be a published author. She spends her days chasing after toddlers and her nights scribbling down stories and ideas the characters in her head dictate to her. She lives in CT with her two children.

Author Links:

Email | Facebook | GoodreadsAmazon

DU Teaser-all my life

Proudly Hosted by:

P&B_Cover