The Matchmaker’s Royal Mess by Frieda J. Downing Blog Tour!

 

The Matchmaker’s Royal Mess
Frieda J. Downing

Publication date: November 25th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

She’d rather give a mountain lion a bikini wax than mess with love again.

Been there, went viral, never going back. Hattie Montague’s life as a backcountry guide for the spoiled and famous suits her just fine, thanks. It’s the only place she feels completely safe being herself. So, what if she has nightmares that she can only speak squirrel and craves pinecones for breakfast? It beats leaving yourself vulnerable to humans. Fine, all of them aren’t bad. She likes probably three, so when one needs her help, she drags herself back to civilization. If she can navigate white water rapids, she can babysit a matchmaking office for a weekend. It’s not like she’ll have to deal with people or, you know, be nice. Ew.

Alexander Greye ruined her life ten years ago. Not his proudest moment. Known as the Winter Warlocke, he’s a man born and raised to lead a country with logical precision. Yet around her, he can’t seem to think rationally. He’s never met anyone who dives into the unknown like she does or tames chaos like she can. In a world as perfectly controlled as his, that makes her irresistible and utterly dangerous. And he’s willing to risk it all to thaw his frozen heart.

It’s half past too late when he realizes his carefully laid plans to win her over covered everything except the theft of the Crown Jewels, an abandoned mine where they’d have to face their deepest fears, and the betrayal that forces them to let go.Quite literally.

Warning: Not for the faint of heart. Sassy romantic adventure, with instances of chaos, misunderstandings, and feels. Oh, and the occasional sheep. Sparks will fly, it’s gonna get awkward, and the Happily-Ever-After will be well-earned.

Goodreads / Amazon

Nice to meet you. I’m Frieda. I write sweet contemporary romance as well as romantic adventure.

I blame it on my childhood babysitters. For some reason they thought I shouldn’t ride our family’s buffalo. Believe me, I was just as shocked as you. Though I never did get that buffalo ride, I found plenty of other creative outlets for my adventure needs. Some were good clean fun, some got me kicked out of various and sundry events, and others ended with me getting lost in catacombs. (Not metaphorically speaking. Somewhere there’s an Austrian catacomb caretaker? guy whom I owe dinner and a large apology.)

I like to think I’ve gotten a tiny bit wiser.

I married my best friend and dove headfirst into the magnificent cyclone known as raising kids. I mountain bike every chance I get, lose my coffee cup daily, and bake a mean lemon merengue pie, if I do say so myself. I may indulge in shenanigans on a regular basis, but I plead the fifth every time.

I suppose it’s important to me that you know how very much I love us crazy, broken humans. We dream so big. We try so hard. Yet somehow, so often, things just go terribly, horribly wrong.

That’s where my books begin… because that’s where the real love stories found. I hope you enjoy reading them. Most of all, I wish you adventure, joy, and more love than you knew was possible,

Frieda

You can find more at www.friedajdowning.com

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 The Matchmaker’s Royal Mess by Frieda J. Downing

Deals with the devil…

“Natalie, do us a solid and make notes. We’re creating a new contract.” I snag the file from him and use it to poke him in the chest with each new condition without even looking inside it. He said dates. “First, I’ll lead you to the location you believe has your stash, but only to that spot. You will obey my every order. You will not, under any circumstance, go anywhere besides exactly where I tell you. I won’t have you falling down a mineshaft and causing someone else to lay their life on the line because you acted like a moron.”

Natalie is now groaning with her head between her knees. “We’re all going to prison.”

Xander opens his mouth, but I shake my head and poke him again. “Not done yet. Second, I’ll pretend to be your coach or whatever, but we keep things completely business. These aren’t dates where somebody gets kissed at the front door at the end of the night. Zero physical contact. None. Nada. Zipskies on the kisskies.”

Xander cocks his head. Bright interest lights up his eyes again. “Kisskies?”

“Shut up.” I clear my throat and fight the urge to stare at the floor. “Third, and finally, you say you run a business, an international one. For something like that, I imagine you know loads of people. I imagine some of them might even be bored and, say, in need of an adventure.”

That danged left corner of his mouth twitches. “You might say that. Why?”

I clear my throat again and lift my chin. “You apparently already know about my back country business somehow. It’s going to offer themed adventures, like solving a mystery and stuff on the trip. Haunted Hattie’s Adventures. You can send lonely people to Zoe and bored people my way. That’s the deal. Oh, and whatever you’re paying, I’ll need you to double it.” It’s audacious and I don’t remotely think he’ll accept my terms; I kinda just wanna freak him out.

“That’s quite the marketing pitch.” He narrows his eyes a bit. “What about your makeover, prince, and revenge?”

I shrug. “We’ll keep the revenge part. However, I’m not wearing dresses; there will be no dancing, and lay off the fairy-tale prince crap.”

With that, Natalie rolls out of her chair, throws the contract in the air, and belly flops onto the couch in Zoe’s office. All I hear from her is, “Maybe my tower will have a window, like at least one of those slits for arrows.”

Xander, in the meantime, appears to have made extensive notes on the pad on Natalie’s desk. He runs down the list again. “Follow Hattie’s every command. No physical contact, specifically kisskies. Send clients to Haunted Hattie’s Adventures. Double the fee. Let’s also not forget: no dresses, zero dancing, and cancel all fairy tales. Care to read it before we sign? After all, you should never agree to a legally binding document without reading it first.”

Patronizing punk. I stomp over and try to grab it from him. He holds on. I glance down and watch our hands in static battle on opposite ends of the notepad. We’re not even touching, yet why does it feel as if we are? I look up and catch my breath. His eyes dip to the base of my throat, where I can feel my heartbeat pounding. His voice drops to a low rumble. “Careful, Hattie. If you cross this threshold, you must see it through. New adventures can be dangerous.”

My heart starts pounding about three gears faster at that. Finally, he lets go. I tip backwards, but quickly regain my balance. Inside? Not so much.

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The American Outsider by Homa Pourasgari Book Blitz! @BookReviewTours @homapourasgari #ContemporaryFiction #TheAmericanOutsider

 

"A charming read with characters who come to life on the page—and who live for a cause whose urgency shines through the story." – Booklife Review

Tessa Walker is a veterinarian with a strong, emotional connection to animals. As a teen, she witnessed the brutal slaughter of dolphins, and as an adult, she decides to do something about it. She leaves her home in Los Angeles and travels to Japan to speak out for them, but little does she know that she is embarking on an adventure that will change her life forever. From the urban metropolis of Tokyo to the historic Kyoto to the culinary city of Osaka, and the seaside town of Taiji, Tessa is determined to help Japanese activists stand up for her beloved mammals.

Along the way, the friendships and bonds that she builds with people in Japan, and the unconditional love of a stranger named Toshiro, open her eyes to a complicated society of conventions and traditions. Yet, her limited knowledge of the language and customs doesn't deter her from taking on a dangerous mission that could land her in jail.

                             Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

At the Japanese garden, Tessa watched butterflies drink the nectar of flowers. She fed the fish in the koi pond and stood on a bridge to take several shots of the picturesque scenery. Less shaken, she headed to the French garden she had heard so much about and began sauntering down a sycamore-lined path. She sat on a bench and pulled out her beautifully wrapped bento box, chopsticks, and jasmine tea. Inside, the box cradled an artistically arranged mini-feast of multigrain rice, white rice, marinated tofu, and colorful vegetables. It almost looked much too pretty to eat. As she enjoyed her meal and drank her fragrant tea, Tessa took in her surroundings. A mother pushed a toddler in a stroller and carried her younger child in a strap wrapped around her. An elderly man sat at a bench and sketched the landscape. Two trendy-looking girls wearing miniskirts and hats chatted and sniggered. A group of middle-aged women used fanciful umbrellas to keep the sun from aging their flawless complexions. Showing off one’s legs by wearing miniskirts was common in Japan, but showing one’s shoulders and cleavage was taboo. Wearing hats and using umbrellas was favored because having a fair complexion was important and desirable for many Japanese women. Tessa, on the other hand, loved the sun and a good tan. Funny, how everyone’s perspective is so different, she thought. When she finished eating, Tessa placed her trash in a plastic bag and put it in her handbag. In Japan, it was rare to see public trash cans. People carried around small plastic bags to put their trash in until they could discard it at home. To outsiders, Japan’s trash etiquette is complex and one of the reasons why landlords do not like to rent apartments to foreigners. 

Homa Pourasgari spent hours in her father’s home office, writing, reading and letting her imagination carry her to unseen worlds. She moved to Los Angeles, California, at a young age. After graduating from Loyola Marymount University with a degree in business, she went to Paris for a year to study literature at the Sorbonne. Before becoming a full-time writer, she ran her own boutique, worked at a bank and a CPA firm, was a personal trainer and even taught spinning and cardio kickboxing. When she is not writing, she is stumbling, miming and pointing to find her way in a foreign country. Her latest novel, The American Outsider, is based on her travels in Japan.

Website * Facebook * Twitter 

The Rescue by S L Rosewarne Blog Tour!

 

When terrier Moll’s owner dies, she is determined to protect his widow, Suki. As Suki navigates grief, dating and men with baggage of their own, Moll tries to push her beloved owner to moving on with someone Moll has chosen, with a good sense of humour, a generous heart, and a steady supply of biscuits.

But Suki has a frustrating habit of doing things the way she wants, instead of Moll’s way. Until she meets Ted, who Moll adores almost as much as Suki. Ted, though, has demons of his own, so is he really the right choice for Suki?

With Moll getting older, and Suki still struggling, can this devoted up fulfil her promise to look after her owner, before her time runs out?

A quirky tale of second chances, told through the eyes of woman’s best friend.

https://www.suekittow.com/product-page/the-rescue

https://www.amazon.com/Rescue-S-Rosewarne-ebook/dp/B0BS4BLM3W/

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Rescue-S-Rosewarne-ebook/dp/B0BS4BLM3W/

Suki and Ted meet for coffee for the first time

  Suki passed over her business card and Ted took it, put it carefully in his wallet. ‘I don’t know if you can help, but I need someone to help with the photographs for my books,.’ She spooned the froth off the top of her coffee. ‘I got Pip this camera for his birthday but it’s very high tech and I don’t know how to use it. Do you know anyone?’

‘I could help,’ he said. And I got a strong flare up of that happy scent.

‘Really? I thought you were a graphic designer.’

‘I am, but I also work as a freelance photographer.’ He paused. ‘You can check me out online.’

‘Really?’ she said again. ‘What’s your website?’

He told her and she quickly tapped on her phone. ‘You’re really good!’ she said.

He laughed. ‘No need to sound so surprised!’

I could sense her going red. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘I’m only joking,’ he said. ‘I’d be delighted to take some photographs for you.’ The happy scent was so strong I was amazed they couldn’t smell it.

She looked at me. I could smell hesitation. ‘Thing is,  how much do you charge? I don’t really have a budget,’ she said apologetically.

‘I’d do it as a friend,’ he said firmly. ‘Absolutely no payment.’

‘But you’re freelance. You need the money,’ she insisted.

‘Not for this job,’ he said firmly. ‘My day job pays the bills, so I like to help friends where I can. I insist.’ He picked up his croissant, broke it in half. A few lovely crumbs just floated down onto my outstretched tongue.

‘Well, thank you. I really appreciate it. But let me buy you coffee, or lunch or something.’

He shrugged. ‘When you can afford it. Not yet.’

Again she paused and I could almost hear her thinking. ‘So you work part time?’

‘Yes, I do the photography from home.’ When he said the word ‘home’ there was a funny smell. Stale and fearful.

I don’t think she smelt it, for she said, ‘I work part time from home too,’ as if that was the most extraordinary coincidence. ‘So you really think you might be able to help?’

He swallowed a mouthful of pastry. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘What do you need?’

‘Well, the trouble is, it involves coming on the walks for my next book,’ she said, hesitation in every syllable. She picked up her croissant, bit into it. I hovered closer, snaffled up her lot of crumbs. Delicious. Rich and fatty and superb.

‘No problem,’ he said firmly. ‘As long as I have some notice. Weekends are probably best, but I can sometimes do the odd afternoon.’

‘That would be perfect,’ she said, and I could hear a smile bursting through her words. ‘How about this weekend? I need to do a walk near Looe.’

A cloud crossed his face. ‘Oh, sorry, this is the one weekend….’

‘Never mind,’ she said quickly.

‘But I could do next Tuesday after 11 if that’s any good?’

‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m free after 12.’

‘Why don’t I pick you up? Silly taking two cars. All my equipment is in mine so it’s easier if I drive.’

‘Oh, OK. Thanks,’ she said, her voice brightening. ‘That would be great.’

They exchanged phone numbers, and as I sat at her feet and listened to them talk, I realised who this man reminded me of. He was very like Pip would have been, twenty years ago.

Pip? What do you think? If I strained my ears, I was sure I could hear a reassuring rumble of his laughter. But what did that mean?

A spark of hope rose up inside me. Could this man do sex and make Suki happy? Or was it too soon?

I live in Cornwall with my rescue dog Lainy (who features at the end of The Rescue) and is going on to have her own story in Lainy’s Tale, which I am writing now. I spend part of the week with my partner and his rescue dog, Twig, where we walk, cycle, swim and grow vegetables. When forced indoors he is addicted to shouting at politicians on the news, the perfect excuse for me to write.

 

When not writing or training Lainy, I sing with The Suitcase Singers, and also give talks to anyone who will pay to listen to me talking about my work. To my surprise, many have.

 

I am also a freelance journalist, researcher and author of five Cornish literary themed walking books - Discover Cornwall, Walks in the Footsteps of Cornish Writers, Walks in the Footsteps of Poldark Walks in the Footsteps of Daphne du Maurier and Walks in the Footsteps of Rosamunde Pilcher, all published by Sigma Press and online in our 'Books' section of the website.

Twitter - https://mobile.twitter.com/floweringpot

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/suekittow2016

Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/walks_cornish_author/

Farm Cove Bliss by @e.d_hackettwrites Book Blitz! #edhackett #FarmCoveBliss #XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣ @XpressoTours⁣⁣

 

Farm Cove Bliss
E.D. Hackett

Publication date: February 9th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Previously published on Kindle Vella as Farmhouse Bliss.

She’s relearning to trust. He’s healing his heartache. Can two shattered souls piece together a happily ever after?

Crystal Whitman is determined to redefine herself. Pulling double shifts to break free from a cheating ex, the single mom worries her life can’t get any more chaotic until her own mother dies. The city gal returns to her painfully rural hometown in the hopes of flipping her vacant ancestral farmhouse fast, so she never expected her hunky hired hand would make her want to slow down and enjoy the view.

Derek Fischer can’t shake his grief. Twelve years after losing his wife, the devoted dad’s broken heart beats only for his daughter, until a sexy school teacher sparks a different kind of love. But with a dying home improvement business to keep afloat, the contractor fears muddling the line between business and pleasure could only end in financial ruin.

When Crystal hires Derek to fix the old farmhouse, so she can sell it and return to her frenzied life, she moves in for the summer to save some money and give him a hand.

Fighting their growing attraction, she wonders if she’s destined to be alone and he wonders if his wife will ever forgive him for moving on.

When a vivacious blonde sinks her claws into Derek, Crystal relives her ex-husbands betrayal, and may sabotage their growing relationship.

Can Crystal and Derek fix the farmhouse and mend their fractured hearts?

Farm Cove Bliss is a small-town sweet romance. If you like small-town settings, relatable characters, and mid-life love, you’ll fall in love with E.D. Hackett’s Farm Cove Bliss.

Goodreads / Amazon

Crystal picked up her paintbrush to touch up the trim but couldn’t reach the top. She felt Derek’s heat behind her before she realized he had moved. His hand grabbed her wrist, and she turned to face him. He was inches from her lips, and she could feel his minty breath on her. Her heart pounded with desire and electric shocks traveled up her legs, making them tremble.

She tried to break free from his grip but instead found herself moving into him. He closed the final gap between them, and his lips met hers. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes. His lips were unexpectedly soft, such a contrast from the feel of his rough beard, and Crystal leaned into him for deeper pressure.

Like a film reel, memories of her past flipped through her mind at high speed, and she could barely make out the images. Her mother gardening, her father drinking coffee, the summer she lost her virginity, and the day she graduated from college sped through her mind. Jeremy proposing on the banks of Niagara Falls and the joy and pure delight she felt in that moment, making love that night, and then standing beside him on their wedding day. She saw herself holding Mason with joy and wonder, then fighting, then lipstick, and then the final fight when she threw Jeremy out of the house. Images of isolation and abandonment, losing her mother to a devastating illness, saying goodbye, and stumbling back to this house. The last image was Derek kissing her. The film reel flipped faster through her mind on a continuous loop.

She pushed him away, fear replacing lust. “I can’t do this.”

He stepped back immediately, his lips pressed together and his eyes pleading.

“I live three hours away, Derek. My life is not here, and I’m leaving to go home.”

E.D Hackett is a Speech-language pathologist by day and a writer by night. She has been writing since the first grade and still has her first book, "How I Lost My Tooth." She has self-published novels that investigate layers of self-expectations, family dynamics, following dreams, and learning how to love and accept yourself. She hopes that her novels create a safe and cozy environment for her readers to fall into and explore.

Her two kids keep her busy, when they aren't hanging out on video games or with their friends. Her husband has encouraged her to follow her dreams, no matter their size.

She lives in New England but in her heart, she feels that she belongs in Ireland. If she could figure out how to move, live, and work over there she would do it in a heartbeat.

She loves to read, write, knit, and cook.

She hopes that you fall in love with her characters the same way she did!

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

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$20 Amazon gift card + signed copy of Farm Cove Bliss

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Nightmare Man by J.H. Markert Book Review! #TheNightmareMan #NetGalley

 

Format

336 pages, Hardcover

Published

January 10, 2023 by Crooked Lane Books

ISBN

9781639101702 (ISBN10: 1639101705)

Language

English

“Scarecrow's scare, That's what they do.”
― J.H. Markert, The Nightmare Man

T. Kingfisher meets Cassandra Khaw in a chilling horror novel that illustrates the fine line between humanity and monstrosity.

Blackwood mansion looms, surrounded by nightmare pines, atop the hill over the small town of New Haven. Ben Bookman, bestselling novelist and heir to the Blackwood estate, spent a weekend at the ancestral home to finish writing his latest horror novel, The Scarecrow. Now, on the eve of the book’s release, the terrible story within begins to unfold in real life.

Detective Mills arrives at the scene of a gruesome murder: a family butchered and bundled inside cocoons stitched from corn husks, and hung from the rafters of a barn, eerily mirroring the opening of Bookman’s latest novel. When another family is killed in a similar manner, Mills, along with his daughter, rookie detective Samantha Blue, is determined to find the link to the book—and the killer—before the story reaches its chilling climax.

As the series of “Scarecrow crimes” continues to mirror the book, Ben quickly becomes the prime suspect. He can’t remember much from the night he finished writing the novel, but he knows he wrote it in The Atrium, his grandfather’s forbidden room full of numbered books. Thousands of books. Books without words.

As Ben digs deep into Blackwood’s history he learns he may have triggered a release of something trapped long ago—and it won’t stop with the horrors buried within the pages of his book.

My Thoughts

I have always been a fan of horror, Stephen King comes to mind, so when I saw this book being offered, I thought what the heck.  I was not prepared for what came on the 336 pages. Not a page that did not catch my attention.

Ben Bookman, a horror author, has written numerous novels, all horror genre. He is currently working on his latest book called the Scarecrow. A bit of back story, Ben comes from a wealthy family, has a younger brother, and he is heir to Blackwood, an asylum. Ben has had nightmares for as long as he can remember, that is why he writes about them. At Blackwood, there is the Atrium that his grandfather has forbidden Ben and his brother to go in, but he does, he thinks that he wrote The Scarecrow. This room has many books, with no words. Now how could a room and its secrets be the cause of all the mayhem that is going on in the town?

Ben's brother disappeared when he was young and Ben has been doing what he can to locate him, is he dead or still alive. Ben is at a book signing when a man comes up to him, Ben thinking he wants a book signed, instead the man pulls a gun and blows his brains out.

A family is butchered, bound in corn husks and hung from the rafters of their barn. Similiar to what Ben has written in his book. As more murders happen, all mirroring Ben's book, the police are beginning to suspect Ben. He can't explain his absences, he is a sleepwalker.

Detective Mills along with his daughter Samantha Blue are tasked with solving the spate of murders that are happening in the small community. Detective Mills is another person who has nightmares, it turns out he is able to take on other people's nightmares. 

Ben now is determined to find out the history of Blackwood, his parents' deaths in a car crash, and his brother's disappearance but this puts his wife and daughter's lives at risk. How is all this connected? Go get the book and find out, you will not be disappointed.

I read this book in a few sittings, riveted to the pages. Like I said I have always been a fan of horror, ever since I read the first Stephen King book Carrie. This book totally freaked me out. Scary from page to page, but I loved it and give it 5 stars for the scare factor! 

I received a copy of the book for review purposes only.

The Elven Healer’s Apprentice by Elsa Rae Boo Blitz! #ElisaRae #TheElvenHealersApprentice #fantasy #XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣ @XpressoTours⁣⁣

 

The Elven Healer’s Apprentice
Elisa Rae

(Elves of Eldarlan, #4)
Publication date: February 9th 2023
Genres: Fantasy, Romance

Merlon, the king of Eldarlan’s healer, hides his soft heart beneath a prickly exterior. Despite a traumatic childhood, he strives to excel as a healer and an elf. But he gets more than he bargained for when he rescues a human woman from certain death right before being snared in the curse put on the king of Eldarlan.

Left to fend for herself in an absent elf healer’s compound, Adela tries to be useful. The patients call her the healer’s apprentice. Something the healer rejects when he finally returns. Despite his grumpy manner, the healer displays a strange mixture of kindness and care. Intrigued, Adela suspects the healer hides more than he reveals.

The Elven Healer’s Apprentice is a light, fantasy romance novella about a romance between an elven healer and a human woman. It features a grumpy sunshine romance where opposites attract when they encounter forced proximity and jeopardy.

Goodreads / Amazon

Adela
“Where am I to go?” I asked Sage as I brushed her velvety side.

Blinding white, sixteen hands high, and powerful, Sage’s heritage as a unicorn was only evident by the nub in the center of her forehead that had once been a long, elegantly lethal horn. I had never seen her in all her glory.

According to Lippin, a unicorn hunter had driven her to the ground, bound her, and sawed off her horn when she was only a colt. Only the master healer’s intervention had saved her from being harvested for her other parts. Since then, she had lived in the compound, cared for and fed.

When I came, one of my first duties was to deal with the unicorn because she didn’t like males. Not a surprise, considering her past. Not all males were an issue. I had been told she tolerated the master healer.

I rested my forehead against her warm hide, breathing in the scent of warm, clean horse. “If he throws me out, I have nowhere to live. Father still wishes me violence. I don’t want to go back there. Henri is dead.” A fresh wave of grief pressed in on me. I hadn’t been able to save him. Never to hold him again, ruffle his hair, laugh at his teasing, or chase him around the bailey. Tears filled my eyes. I missed my brother so much.

Sage’s nose bumped my shoulder. She snuffled at my kirtle sleeve.

“Just give me a moment,” I told her.

She snorted and side-stepped away from me.

“What?” I lifted my head and blinked at her. Unicorns differed from horses in more than appearance. Intelligent and intuitive, they understood far more than their less magical cousins. Sage wheeled around so her whole body blocked my view of the stable doorway.

“I can still see her, Sage,” a male voice said. The healer entered the stable and came around the side so he could address me, but he remained with his back to the outside wall and his face and torso in the shadows. “I see Sage has imprinted on you.”

Sage huffed and tossed her head at him before nuzzling my hair as I came around to better see the healer.

“She seems to like me,” I agreed.

He chuckled, low and deep. “She is protecting you from me. See how she is trying to position herself between us?”

Sage bumped my shoulder with her nose, trying to nudge me to step back out of sight. I stood firm. She huffed and stamped her foot, which I ignored.

“I won’t hurt her,” the healer told Sage, who swung her head toward him and showed her teeth. “Honest.” He offered her his hand. Sage only eyed him and shifted closer to me. “I owe her an apology.”

I stiffened in surprise. Men didn’t apologize. At least in my experience, they didn’t. “Apology for what?”

Sage grew still beside me, as though listening.

“For my words back at the clinic. I spoke without properly assessing the situation and accused you of things that clearly weren’t true. I am sorry.”

I blinked and peered into the shadows where his features hid. Did he jest? Was this a ploy to make me appear foolish? “Step into the light, please.”

“A distrusting creature, aren’t you?” he asked. The healer stepped forward, so the sunlight fell over his features.

“With good reason,” I replied.

He was tall, but all elves were. Lean-featured with the changeable silver-blue eyes of his species, he made a striking impression even before one accounted for his pure white hair. Wild and gleaming silver in the light, his hair stood out from his head in a disarray of curls as though he had run his fingers through it a few times. He arched a silvery-gray brow at me when my gaze fell to his face. “So, you can tell if I am honest if you see my face when I am speaking? That must be a useful skill. You realize I am an elf. Lying makes us ill.”

“But you are capable of it,” I pointed out.

He met my assessment openly, eyes flashing silver. “True. By omission or half-truths, but never outright lies.” He tilted his head slightly. “And you? Are you honest?”

“I told you the truth.”

“You did,” he admitted.

We stood there, studying each other in silence for a few moments. His stance remained relaxed, as though we were friends chatting about the weather. I wondered what he saw in me.

“Are you going to throw me out?” I asked suddenly.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether or not you want to go.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “This compound is a haven, a place of healing. If you wish to remain, you are welcome. If you wish to go, you are free to do so.”

“I wish to stay.” I loved tending the animals, helping Sina with the housework, nursing patients. “Will you allow me to help with the patients?”

“That depends.”

I opened my mouth to ask for clarification, but I found him watching me expectantly, as though he knew exactly what I was going to say. I pressed my lips together and lifted my eyebrows instead.

A reader of fairytales and folklore, Elisa Rae loves a happy ending. Noblebright characters, dastardly villains, and chemistry between characters delight her. When she isn’t writing, she loves to watch superhero movies and literary dramas.

If you like romantic adventures of various kinds, join her at: authorelisarae.com!

 Website / Goodreads / Facebook

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$25 Amazon gift card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Palm Springs King by @clairemartiwrites Boo k Blitz! #ClaireMarti #PalmSpringsKing #XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣ @XpressoTours⁣

 

Palm Springs King
Claire Marti

(California Suits, #4)
Publication date: February 9th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

A former rockstar. A perfectionistic yoga teacher. Opposites attract?

Rockstar Austin Michaels never took much seriously—other than his music. But tragedy thrust him out of the spotlight and into the boardroom. Now, he’s helping his brother run a luxury hotel chain and he couldn’t be farther out of his comfort zone. He’s doing his best––until his beautiful new spa manager arrives.

Yoga teacher Kenzie Banks earned her reputation as the best in the spa business by being a hyper-efficient perfectionist. Ready to plant roots after too many years on the road, she’s thrilled to land her dream job working for the Hotel Kings — they’re literally the family she always wished for. Except, her sexy boss Austin Michaels is driving her nuts with his impulsive decisions and smoldering glances.

The sparks between these two opposites burn so hot it’s a wonder they don’t spontaneously combust. But Kenzie knows what they say about fire…and she’s come too far and worked too hard to get burned. Can the pair find a way to work together, or will everything they’re building go up in flames?

One-click this opposites attract, forced proximity standalone romance today!

*Palm Springs King is the fifth book in award-winning and USA Today bestselling author Claire Marti’s new spin off contemporary romance series, California Suits. The series follows the adventures of five best friends who are opening a string of luxury boutique hotels from La Jolla to Monterey to Beverly Hills as each one finds true love…usually where he least expects it. Each book is a standalone.

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As a yoga teacher, projecting serene strength was important, which meant mastering her emotions. Since patience wasn’t one of her natural gifts, she worked extra hard to remain even keeled.

Even when she was screaming inside.

Somehow, within mere minutes in Austin Michaels’ presence, he’d triggered the fiery nature she carefully controlled. Her belly had hopped, skipped, and jumped when he sauntered in looking more like the rock star he used to be. Stepping onto center stage, ready to unleash his signature raspy voice that had catapulted his band to the top of the alt-rock charts.

Rock and roll wasn’t her thing but she hadn’t lived on Mars. At the height of Black Velvet Machine’s fame, his chiseled features, naughty grin, and tall, rangy frame had graced many a magazine cover. For a few years, the band was everywhere from Saturday Night Live to a Newsweek cover story on the second wave of alternative rock. What Pearl Jam and Soundgarden had embodied in the 90s, Austin’s band represented in the 2010s. He’d drawn comparisons to the late Chris Cornell, whose posters she’d had plastered on her walls growing up, even if she hadn’t listened to a lot of his music.

Yeah, Austin was her own personal brand of catnip and if she let her guard down, all her meticulously laid plans could implode.

Claire Marti is an award winning and USA Today Bestselling author of emotional, funny, and swoonworthy Contemporary Romance novels set in Southern California, including the Pacific Vista Ranch series and the spin-off California Suits series. She lives in San Diego with her husband, silly dog, and three clever cats.

Claire started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to pick up pencil and paper. After graduating from the University of Virginia with a BA in English Literature, Claire was sidetracked by other careers, including practicing law, selling software for legal publishers, and managing a non-profit animal rescue for a Hollywood actress. When Claire's not writing, she's teaching yoga.

Claire loves to connect with readers!

Reach out via email or sign up for her monthly newsletter at www.clairemarti.com which is full of exclusive content, fun giveaways, and more!

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The Italian Holiday by @nicolesharpwrites Book Blitz! #nicolesharp #TheItalianHoliday #XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣ @XpressoTours⁣

 

The Italian Holiday
Nicole Sharp

Publication date: February 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Struggling writer Keats McCall is Italy bound by Valentine’s Day – but it’s certainly not for amore. She needs to escape her mindless barista job, the four walls of the rented room closing in on her, and the memories of last year’s disastrous break-up. Thank the Roman gods she can pack a bag and passport and run to her sister in Florence, Italy, in the hopes of getting her life back on track.

Keats expected to spend her days meandering through the rain-soaked cobblestone streets of Florence. What she didn’t expect was Lorenzo, who smells of espresso, Italian history and self-assurance, to propel her on an unimaginable journey.

From Florence to Venice, Keats basks in a luscious exploration of Italy and Lorenzo while she tries to figure out if the escapist mindset of an Italian Holiday can duct tape her life back together.

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A soft knock at my door was accompanied by Lorenzo’s deep voice, “Principessa?”

The endearment floated through the wood and twirled around me. I gave it an overdramatic swat on my way to the door.

“I don’t think you should call me that…” I said as I partially opened the door, however the conviction behind the words trailed off as I took in the man standing before me.

Lorenzo shouldn’t still be shocking. His cleanly shaved bald head shouldn’t be attractive. The light shadow of beard on his chin, the way his amber eyes lit up. Those shoulders, whose mass I was now too keenly aware of, shouldn’t send a tingle to my fingertips. Fingertips that suddenly had a mind of their own, and were deeply curious of how said muscles would feel beneath them.

Lorenzo’s appeal reminded me of the early days with my ex; how his attention and smile distracted me, caught me in his net. And that worried me.

The attraction to Alec had morphed and twisted; breaking me. A feeling I had almost eradicated from most of my body, but some of it still lingered in the marrow of my bones.

And here was Lorenzo, a landscape of emotional landmines.

I hugged the door, trying to keep the bulk of my body behind it; trying to keep something tangible between us.

“Why shouldn’t I call you la mia principessa?” His voice lowered as he asked the question.

Come on, man.

“Cuz it’s too…sexy.” The words barely out, I turned to get my shoes, coat, scarf and bag.

Lorenzo settled himself against the door jamb and I heard the smile in his voice as he asked, “How sexy?”

“Don’t get yourself all worked up, it was really just an observation,” I muttered as I finished getting ready. “Where are we going?”

“Lunchtime,” he replied.

I nodded as I added a notebook and new wallet to my bag before zipping it and slipping it on my shoulder.

“Do you like the room?” He asked.

“Eh.” I shrugged.

Lorenzo straightened and looked around, searching for what could be wrong. “Do you want to switch?”

“Are you serious?” I laughed.

“If you don’t like the room…” he offered.

Did he really think I didn’t like this room? “You know the room is gorgeous. I love this room.” I looked around and then wondered if his room was better. “How’s your room?”

“Similar, but perhaps you should come see for yourself?”

I grunted at the comment laced with innuendo.

He held the door for me and as I passed, he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. I glanced up at him with a slight frown and a warning in my eyes. I wasn’t ready for this dance yet. I wasn’t ready for the random brush of his hand against mine, for the stolen kisses, for the sexy, effortless flirting. I wasn’t ready for how good it felt to be pressed against him.

But still, I gave in and remained still, locked in his orbit for several long breaths. Our inhales and exhales became shallower. He was as excited as I was, evident from the tightening of his arms around my waist. He moved his head toward mine, a slight almost imperceptible move, but it was there. He was there for the taking. If I wanted to meet him halfway.

I pushed against his chest with my hands, ending the moment.

He let go and I slid down his body to reach the earth once again. When had my feet abandoned me?

I opened my mouth to say something, but what? My only defense was to turn and walk away. Marie’s stupid words of not overthinking things made my feet stumble. Part of me wanted to turn back around and kiss him and push him into the room and find out if that bed was as soft as the sofa and if he was as warm and hard as I predicted. The other part wanted to keep moving forward until I could break free into a run and find the next train back to Florence.

“We’ll ride the funicular. It will take us up the hill to la Città Alta. The station for it is close by.” Lorenzo fell into step next to me as he pulled on a beanie and wound his scarf around his neck.

I veered toward the stairs rather than the elevator, because there was no way I was about to get into a phone booth sized elevator where he might be tempted-

Keats, get into the elevator!

I took the stairs.

Legend has it that Nicole Sharp was born to hippies during an ice storm in Stone Mountain, Georgia. While confirmation of said events cannot be agreed upon, one fact is for certain, it was a Tuesday.

By age twelve, Nicole was sure of two things: 1) She wanted to be a writer and 2) She wanted to travel. She begged her parents to allow her to voyage alone to exotic lands. They permitted her to go from California to Boise, Idaho to visit a great-grandmother.

After muddling through the college years, Nicole graduated with a bachelor's in history (think Greeks and Romans). Why didn’t she major in English if she wanted to be a writer? There were better stories in history class.

Nicole is Italian. According to Ancestry.com it’s a rather low percentage, but she feels that she is at least 51% Italian. When she returned to the homeland, she fell in love with the Italian cappuccino, so much so that she studied the language until she was fluent; thus she could order the magical elixir herself: Posso avere un cappuccino, per favore!

Nicole’s first concert was to see the bluegrass group The Seldom Scene when she was a fifteen-year-old, thanks to her parent’s bluegrass phase. However, she never admits it, and instead tells everyone that They Might Be Giants, whom she saw in college, was her real first concert.

Her first car was a yellow Chevy Celebrity, and her favorite job was working as a docent in a museum in an old mining town in Colorado. She has written extensively about both.

Visit NicoleSharpWrites.com for more entertainment.

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