Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Blitz : Shattered Destiny


Shattered Destiny by Yumoyori Wilson & Tamara White

(Reclaiming The Throne, #1)
Publication date: February 15th 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
What if one actof kindness shatters your destiny? One moment that changed your life forever. Would you embrace it or fight with everything you had?

Born to a powerful mother and father, both highly respected in our clan for their magic and strength, I was neither powerful nor respected. I was born a null. Devoid of any of the strength or power of my clan and to make matters worse, my attempted shift into dragon form revealed I’m nothing more than a mere human.

When my mother became ill and my father abandoned us, I became the head of thehousehold. I didn’t mind doing hard labor; actually, I enjoyed knowing I could be of use to my mother by performing the duties she could no longer do.

My life had become the same routine until I decided to step in and help an injured dragon who crossed my path. After healing them, my clan turned on me, taking me to the King to be interrogated. Now, I’m free and on the run – beginning my journey into the unknown.

I am Abigail Fiammetta. I vow to live and reclaim the shattered pieces of mylife. Even if I have to kill to do so.
SHATTERED DESTINY is a new REVERSE HAREM, paranormal series. Recommended for 18+ audience, containing mature sexual content, violence and strong language.
“If you think I did such a horrible job, why don’t you stop talking the talk and walk thewalk? Fight me,” I declared.
I could hear gasps around me, the villagers were clearly shocked by my announcement. Raphael narrowed his eyes at me, giving me a good up and down look. He grinned, sighing dramatically before he took a step forward, his tall frame hovering over me.
I wasn’t going to be intimidated by his height, glaring up at him in defiance as I stood my ground.
“You could get hurt, pretty girl,” he whispered low enough, so only I could heed his warning.
“I don’t care. Sometimes you need to prove your worth to be seen as an ally rather than a burden,” I whispered back.
I tried to ignore the soft fragrance that hit my nose and ignore his handsome face.
I bet all the women swooned over him, and even though I wouldn’t tell him to his face, he was attractive and doing his share of making my body tingle in want.
Maybe it was the weird connection I was trying to ignore—a force begging for us to be closer…to be one? Wait a minute. Did he just call me pretty?
He grinned, and for a second I saw pride flicker through his purple eyes that lingered on my lips before he stepped away.
“Alright. Let’s see what you’re made of, A-B-Gail.”


Yumoyori Wilson is from Toronto, Ontario. She loves to sleep and write her days away. She works at night as a registered nurse. She has a little addiction to bubble tea and coffee but loves to workout. She has big plans for the writing world and can't wait toshare them with everyone.
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Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Blitz : Fire and Bone


Fire and Bone by Rachel A. Marks

(Otherborn #1)
Publication date: February 20th 2018
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Young Adult
“Gossip Girl meets Percy Jackson in the glitz and grit of L.A….”

In Hollywood’s underworld of demigods, druids, and ancient bonds, one girl has a dangerous future.

Sage is eighteen, down on her luck, and struggling to survive on the streets of Los Angeles. Everything changes the night she’s invited to a party—one that turns out to be a trap.

Thrust into a magical world hidden within the City of Angels, Sage discovers that she’s the daughter of a Celtic goddess, with powers that are only in their infancy. Now that she is of age, she’s asked to pledge her service to one of the five deities, all keen on winning her favor by any means possible. She has to admit that she’s tempted—especially when this new life comes with spells, Hollywood glam, and a bodyguard with secrets of his own. Not to mention a prince whose proposal could boost her rank in the Otherworld.

As loyalties shift, and as the two men vie for her attention, Sage tries to figure out who to trust in a realm she doesn’t understand. One thing’s for sure: the trap she’s in has bigger claws than she thought. And it’s going to take a lot more than magic for this Celtic demigoddess to make it out alive.
LILY
I try to hide my shivering as I wait before the altar, in my position as the Bonding begins. Around me, shadows dance over the cairn walls from the restless flames licking up the ram’s body—the sacrifice on the pyre behind me—and the smell ofsweat and burnt flesh smother the smoky air.
The King of Ravens paints an alarming image, standing almost naked across from me on the other side of the blood circle. He wears the corona radiata, the golden laurel-leafed crown, on his head of onyx hair. His short beard is neatly trimmed, combedwith lavender oil for the ceremony. His sharp silver eyes study me beneath a heavy brow.
I try not to think about the past. Or future. I try not to think about what those hard hands will feel like on my skin when he seals this Bond.
I study the stone floor rather than look in those metallic eyes. I feel them on me, though, the same way they have been for the fortnight I’ve been here preparing for the ceremony. He hasn’t touched me; he’s only brought me gifts and insisted I sit with him beside the greatfire in the evening before he goes out for his hunt. Sometimes I smell him in the hallway outside my rooms. But he never comes in, thank the goddess. The scent of blood is heavy on him in those moments. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if he’d attempted anything.
After this is done, it won’t matter. My bed will be his. As will my life.
A druid walks back and forth behind me, tossing rosemary and lavender onto the pyre after each stanza of his spell. He calls to the wind from the east, he calls to the waters in the west, and he pulls the spirit of flame and earth into the cairn with us, asking the Penta to approve the Bond set to be made between the two most powerful Houses, as he pleads for a blessing from our mothers, Brighid and Morrígan, and thanks the Cast for their permission to seal the Bond between the two very different powers.
A female druid comes to my side with bowl and brush, beginning to paint my skin in blue woad, tracing patterns of knots and runes across my back, then baring my chest and continuing.
The king’s gaze follows the woman’s strokes, and when she’s finished, he raises his chin at me in approval but says nothing. What does he see when he looks at me? My wild copper hair? My simple features? The awkward birthmark just above my heart? I’m round of cheek and hips and not much of a beauty. But however I look to him, I will belong to him.
Determination is set in hard lines on his face, and I wonder if the torque on hisneck is working properly. I can see his dark energy lifting in silver and black curls over his shoulders now. It should be tight inside his skin, as mine is. The iron shackle should be holding it in place so that we don’t harm each other in the first merging, before we can get used to the feel of each other’s powers.
The female druid moves to the king next and begins painting the woad in circles over his torso. The druid chanting behind me recites the final section of his spell, walking the ram’s-blood circle painted on the floor. He holds a rowan stick aloft, flicking rosewater over the king and then me as he passes by, mumbling, “A price paid, a covenant sealed, in earth and blood and ash, in spirit and flesh and fire.”
The price is my will, my soul, in payment for the life of the human prince that I took.
In the center of the circle, between the king and me, is an altar with two bowls set atop, one full of salt, one full of rye.
The iron union dagger rests between them.
I stare at it, imagining the blade cutting into my flesh. And I can’t help when my gaze moves to the king. I want to blink and make this moment a dream, perhaps findmyself in the thicket with Lailoken, among the bluebells in the Caledonian wood.
I should run from this son of Morrígan, deny him, deny our mothers, and let the world burn. But my heart twists at the thought. I was running from duty when fate took my heart from me, when the prince succumbed to my fire’s will. It was the childish notion of freedom that tore him from me.
Now it’s time to accept my punishment for allowing the humans to glimpse ourworld. Time to atone.
The druid’s voice fills the room again. “When moon gives birth to stars,” he says, in a droning hum, flicking more rosewater over us with the rowan stick, “let this Bond be sealed in blood.”
My skin prickles with fear as the king takes the cue, reaching out to pick up the ceremonial dagger by the leather-wrapped hilt. I focus on not moving, not making a sound, as I watch him bring the blade to his chest, tip pricking his left breast. A drop of crimson pearls up at the spot.
With a slow hiss of breath, he cuts across.
Dark blood slides down his abdomen in a thick swath of red. “My blood with yours,” he says. And he turns the knife, holding out the hilt for me.
My hands clench into fists at my side, and I force my shaking limbs to still.
I breathe in slowly again. Then I reach out, taking the ceremonial dagger from him, careful not to touch his fingers.
I pretend not to care about the cage I’m about to be locked in. About the pain in my soul from loss, from the goddess Brighid abandoning me to this darkness, pain from the reality of everything in front of me.
I press the tip of the blade to the center of my chest, the point breaking the skin. I look into the silver eyes of the king in front of me. And consider my fate.
One deep plunge to the heart and the pain will end. One plunge.
One.


Rachel A. Marks is a cancer survivor, a writer and artist, a surfer and dirt-bike rider, chocolate lover and keeper of faerie secrets. Her four kids and amazing hubby put up with her nerdiness with tremendous grace, even when she makes them watch Buffy or Smallville re-runs for days on end. She was voted: Most Likely To Survive A Zombie Apocalypse, but hopes she'll never have to test the theory.
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Monday, February 19, 2018

Blitz : Just Say (Hell) No


Just Say (Hell) No by Rosalind James

(Escape to New Zealand #11)
Publication date: February 14th 2018 
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Even a hard man needs a soft side.

Marko Sendoa isn’t a beach man. He’s not an Auckland man. He’s a hard man. Born Basque, raised in the heart of New Zealand’s Southern Alps, and bred on hard work, discipline, and getting the job done. It’s not easy for a rugby flanker to make it to age 32 at the top of his game, but he’s done it. Next year is the Rugby World Cup, and he’ll do whatever it takes to be on the field in the black jersey when the anthems are sung.

He doesn’t need a kitten.
He doesn’t need a pregnant cousin.

He definitely doesn’t need a too-short, distractingly curvy, totally unimpressed Maori barista and part-time pet portraitist who fills his house and his life with too much color, too much chaos, and too many secrets.

He’s getting them anyway.
Ahead of him, the girl looked tense. The running was new, probably. Felt too hard. That had to be it, considering the speed she was going. He caught up and said, “Excuseme.”
She whirled on him so fast, he started running backward out of habit.
“I have Mace!” she announced, all but baring her teeth.
Oh. She’d heard him coming up behind her. He blinked, realized he was still joggingbackward, stopped, and said, “Uh . . . no, you don’t. But no worries. You don’t need it.” There wasn’t room to conceal more than a car key in that kit she was wearing. A flippy little zebra-print skirt,and a black sports bra that dipped low enough in front to show some cleavage. She was a curvy little thing and no mistake. Not that he was looking. She was advancing on him like the stroppiest terrier in the litter, and despite her aggression, he could see the fear underneath.
First the pub, and now this. He didn’t scare women. He was careful. He put up both palms and said again, “No worries.”
She seemed taken aback for an instant, but recovered fast. “I’m not worried,” she said. “But maybe you should be, eh.”
A hint of a Maori accent there. He considered explaining that he liked blondes, but she opened her hand, and bloody hell, but she did have a tiny metal canister laced between her fingers, together with her keys. An older couple was coming toward them with a Golden Retriever on a leash, and Marko had a sudden flash of his photo in another newspaper. Staggering around, tears streaming from his eyes, Maced on a bush track after attacking a jogger. That would be a good look.
Brilliant.

Rosalind James writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense published both by Montlake Romance and independently. Her stories are set in New Zealand, Idaho, California, New York . . . really, anyplace that seems cool. (Research trips, especially those involving lots of rugby, are a bonus.) Her books are available in ebook, paperback, and audio formats. Rosalind is a former marketing executive who spent several years in Australia and New Zealand, where she fell in love with the people, the landscape, and the culture of both countries. She attributes her rapid success to the factthat "Lots of people would like to escape to New Zealand! I know I did!"
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Sunday, February 18, 2018

Blitz : A Life Of Shadows


A Life Of Shadows by Kristen Banet

(The Redemption Saga, #1)
Publication date: February 15th 2018
Genres: Adult, Supernatural, Thriller, Urban Fantasy
Sawyer Matthews knows how to put one foot in front of the other, to keep moving while the nightmares haunt her,and her own failures taunt her. She’s become a master at doing awful things with good intentions, terrible things for the sake of those who need her. She’s long given up on being the hero, trying to find peace in no longer being the villain.

When her past comes back and she finds herself caught by the International Magi Police Organization, she’ll have to revisit her own personal hells and finally confront the very monster that made her what she is. The very monster that has already killed her once before.

Will the “dead” Magi assassin Shadow finally come out of the dark to begin a fight for a redemption she doesn’t believe she deserves? Or will her nightmares drag her back into the shadows that have defined her life?
*This is an Urban Fantasy reverse harem series of full length novels where the leading lady doesn’t have to choose from her romantic interests. This series will have M/M content.

These books are rated for mature audiences, 18+ due to violence, language, and sexual themes.

This series deals with several triggering topics including, but not limited to, suicide, childabuse, rape, and PTSD.*
 
Kristen Banet has a Diet Coke problem and smokes too much. She curses like a sailor (though, she used to be one, so she uses that as an excuse) and finds that many people don’t know how to handle that. She loves to read, and before finally sitting to try her hand at writing, she had your normal kind of work history. From tattoo parlors, to theU.S. Navy, and freelance illustration, she’s stumbled through her adult years and somehow, is still kicking.

She loves to read books that make people cry. She likes to write books that make people cry (and she wants to hear about it). She’s a firm believer that nothing and no one in this world is perfect, and she enjoys exploring those imperfections—trying to make the characters seem real on the page and not just in her head.

She might just be crazy, though. Her characters think so, but this can’t be confirmed.

Check out her social media to catch what's going on in the worlds inside her head. She drops teasers, new covers, and opens ARC reader slots through her Facebook group, The Banet Pride.
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Saturday, February 17, 2018

Excerpt Week 1 : Pretty as a Peach


🍑🍑COMING MARCH 15 FROM JULIETTE POE 🍑🍑

Juliette Poe (Sawyer Bennett’s sweet and sassy alter ego) is taking us back down to Whynot, NC with the release of PRETTY AS A PEACH! Keep reading for a sneak peek into this charming and fun enemies-to-lovers story, releasing March 15!

Read the except below, then stop by Juliette’s page and let her know what you think ---->

I’m back at Farrington Farms. It’s a different day, slightly different story.

I pull my truck up right in front of Darby’s house. I hadn’t expected to be back here this Sunday morning, but after I hung up the phone with Darby not too long ago, I decided to take matters into my own hands. This morning when Darby called to regretfully inform me that she and Linnie could not attend Sunday dinner with my family, it hit me like a wrecking ball that my interest in Darby extends far beyond just mere intrigue into this fascinating woman. I now fully admit I’ve come to like her.

Strange.

I’ve never used the word “hate” in my life to describe my feelings for someone, but before I ever met Darby, I intensely disliked her. It’s not lost on me that within just a matter of moments of meeting and talking to her, my entire perception changed. Darby really let herself get into trouble with me when she made the bold move to pull her application for the expansion grant from consideration. Yes, Darby is one of the most beautiful women I have ever known, but she became infinitely more attractive when I realized she has a heart of gold.

So here I am at her house, unbidden and possibly unwelcome, to make it known I have an interest in her. And if I’m interested in her, it means I have to be interested in Linnie.

After I hung up the phone with Darby, I had a new person I intensely disliked.

Her husband, Mitch.

“I’m really sorry, Colt,” Darby had explained on the phone not but half an hour ago. “But we’re not going to be able to come to supper today.”

“Why?” I asked quite simply.

She had no hesitation in admitting, “It’s Linnie. She’s just… in a mood, I guess. She’s flat-out refusing to go. While I could certainly force her and drag her to your house, it would not be a pleasant experience for any of your family.”

“What’s the reason for the mood?” I could sense by the tone of her voice that something had happened to put Linnie in her funk.

Darby didn’t answer right away. I could read into her pause she was trying to figure out whether she should share a burden with me. So I urged her. “Talk to me, Darby. What’s going on?”

There was no hesitation after that. She let it all come out in a rushing confession of frustration. “Her father called her this morning. I could only hear her end of the conversation, but it was clear he was in full-out attack mode on me. I could tell that whatever he was saying on his end, he was trying to manipulate Linnie into putting pressure on me to come back to Illinois.”\

I didn’t push her for the details. I can imagine some of the things a parent might say to an impressionable seven-year-old to turn them against the other parent. While I don’t have any firsthand experience with such things, I’ve had plenty of friends and acquaintances over the years who have gone through bitter divorces and custody struggles. I’m aware there are some people in the world who will use their kid as a weapon.

Yeah, I don’t like this Mitch dude.

I assured Darby there would be other Sunday dinners they could come to. I put her mind at ease by saying I completely understood what she was going through, even though I don’t. The only thing I did understand is I had made a new friend in Darby McCulhane. I thought she was a good woman. She’s struggling right now to get situated into a new home and is very far away from everything that provided her security.

She helped me out and by extension helped my family out when she gave up the expansion grant.

I’m going to return the favor.

I turn my truck off and hop out with determination. After jogging up the creaky porch steps, I give three solid raps with my knuckles on the wood casing of the screen door. Within moments, Darby’s opening it and blinking at me in surprise.

“Good morning,” I say cheerily.

Darby pushes open the screen door wider and steps back in silent invitation. As I brush past her, she asks, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to kidnap your daughter,” I tell her.

I did not expect this to alarm Darby, so it was not surprising to see the corners of her mouth tip upward. “Kidnap my daughter? I just want to make sure I heard that correctly.”

I grin and nod. “Cross my heart I won’t corrupt her or anything.”

Darby stares at me for a few moments and while she’s clearly amused, I can see a little bit of distance in her eyes—not because she doesn’t trust me, but because she doesn’t want to place her burdens on my doorstep.

I give her a reassuring smile. “I’m going to take her horseback riding. You told me the other day when you came over to have lunch that she had a horse and it was one of the things she really missed.”

It’s not hard to figure out that the rapid blinking of Darby’s eyes means she’s trying to dispel some wet emotion my offer has caused. The last thing I want to do is make a lady cry, so I also add on with a wink, “And that way, you can have a few hours of relaxation all to yourself. Maybe go get your nails done or your hair fixed up all pretty or something. Not that it isn’t pretty as is, but you know… spend some time on Darby.”

She just stares at me in disbelief. That lasts for only about three seconds before she snaps her head to the right and yells up the stairs, “Linnie. Get down here.”

The footsteps overhead are far too heavy to belong to a seven-year-old. The way she’s stomping through the house above us indicates she is not a happy kid. She comes down the staircase with her shoulders hunched forward. When she reaches the bottom landing, she glares at her mom and says, “What?”

It’s not quite belligerent, but it is rude.

As I was raised by a Marine Corps drill instructor father with no patience for smart talk and a strong, southern woman who insists on manners, a crappy attitude has never been something tolerated in our family. I want to tell Linnie to have some respect for her mother, but that would put us off on the wrong foot.

To my surprise, Darby makes it known she doesn’t find her daughter’s attitude acceptable. She narrows her eyes slightly, and says in an even but firm voice, “Remember what we said? You need to check your attitude at your bedroom door. I don’t care if you want to stay up there and sulk but when you’re in my presence, I expect you to be pleasant.”

Linnie doesn’t respond, but her cheeks turn pink.

Darby glances to me and inclines her head my way before telling Linnie, “Colt is here to take you horseback riding if you would like to go.”

There’s no doubt in my mind I made the right decision in coming here when Linnie’s entire face lights up with joy. Her head snaps my way so fast her glasses slide down to the end of her nose. She just pushes them right back up as she asks, “Really?”

I nod. “I’ve got a good buddy who has a few horses, and he’s got two ready for you and me to saddle up for some trail riding.”

It’s also made clear to me that despite Linnie’s sullen attitude toward her mom, she was actually raised with good manners. She immediately turns to Darby. In a very sweet yet imploring voice, she asks, “Can I go, Mom? Please.”

Darby doesn’t hesitate or make her daughter suffer. She just smiles at her and gestures toward the staircase. “Go get changed into some riding gear.”

Linnie doesn’t need to be told twice. She goes flying up the stairs.
#preorder Pretty as a Peach (Sex & Sweet Tea, Book #4):
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2q2xZ0J


** All of the books in the Sex & Sweet Tea series can be read as standalones, but if you’d like to see where it all began, download Ain’t He Precious? (Sex & Sweet Tea, Book #1) for #FREE: http://juliettepoe.com/bookstore/aint-he-precious/ **
Get updates from Juliette Poe, including new release alerts, sales, and more: http://juliettepoe.com/signup/

#prettyasapeach #sexandsweettea #enemiestolovers #comingsoon #juliettepoe

Blitz : The Viking’s Chosen



The Viking’s Chosen by Quinn Loftis

Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: February12th 2018
Genres: Historical, Romance, Young Adult
His orders are clear: launch a raid against England and bring home the spoils of war. But the prophecy is also clear: General Torben will take a foreign bride—one who is a seer and healer just like his mother. The eldest princess of England is said to be just that…a beautiful, charming, and headstrongwoman. But he’s a Viking army general and she’s an English princess—and one who is already promised to the king of Tara.

Two worlds collide in this epic historical fiction centered on an undeniable chemistry that smolders against the odds. Richly written and injected with moments of humor, this action-packed romantic tale will leave you breathless.

Quinn Loftis is the author of twenty novels, including the USA Today Bestseller Fate and Fury.
Are you a book reviewer?
Request a review copy here!

“At least he does not resemble the back end of a boar,” Dayna whispered.
I shot my sister a quick nod of agreement and then covertly turned back to peer at my future husband who was currently conversing with my father. After our morning ride, my sister and I had found a hiding spot behind some large drapes just to the left of the room occupied by our guests. It afforded us the surreptitious ability to listen and watch with the two kings interact. Thomas had taken his leave, but not before he informed me of what he thought about our childish behavior. I did not care if I was being childish. I was not ready to meet King Cathal just yet, at least not without a little advance warning of what I would be dealing with.
“You are correct,” I murmured back. “He is not ugly, but his handsomeness is marred by that tight lipped frown. He looks cruel.”
I had been surprised to find that my future husband was not nearly as old as I had thought he would be. If I had to guess, I would put him at eight and thirty, or, at the very oldest, two and forty. His hair was dark, cut close to his head. He had deep green eyes, a hawkish nose, and thin lips that seemed to hold a perpetual scowl. Standing at a little over six feet, King Cathal was lean but obviously muscular. Yes, he was handsome, but the cold, detached look in his eyes ruined any favor I might have found in him.
“Do you think it hurts to hold his face like that?” Dayna asked.
I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Perhaps he was just born that way.”
“Tis a shame to be so handsome and yet such a pompous ass.”
“Shh,” I chastised. “That pompous ass could have your head if he felt your offense warranted it.”
“Father would not allow me to be beheaded, Allete” Dayna assured me. “I am his favorite.”
I made a motion with my hand to quiet her so we could hear what it was our father was saying to the king of Tara.
“She has to know by now that I have arrived,” King Cathal was saying. His words came out clipped and low.
“Allete tends to have her own mind about things. I am sure she will join us when sheis ready,” King Albric said, attempting to placate his irritated guest.
“And who allows such independent thinking?” Cathal challenged. “A woman should know her place.” His pointed look was aimed at the queen who stood quietly next to King Albric.
Allete was sure her mother was going to smack the rude man, but a subtle hand placed on her mother’s wrist held her in place.
“I understand your frustration, Cathal, but please be considerate of Allete’s situation.She is being courted by a man she has never met. She will be expected to leave with that man in a month’s time and travel to a place that is not her home, where she has no friends, no family. She deserves time to adjust.” King Albric, ever the diplomat, attempted to ease his counterpart’s temper. Based on Cathal’s pinched lips, however, his efforts were wasted.
“Could you at least send for her?” The other king asked in a more civil tone. And then added, “Please,” all be it a bit begrudgingly.
I snatched Dayna’s sleeve and gave it a gentle tug, indicating it was time for us to go. Like mice being hunted by a cat, we scurried from our hiding place and snuck to my bedchamber. We had barely made it inside when there was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” I said, attempting to keep my voice from sounding breathless.
Lidia entered. The look on her face was one of trepidation.
“The king requests your presence,” my handmaiden said in a soft voice.
I smiled at the girl. “Chin up, Lidia. All will be well.”
Lidia let out a huff, her manners momentarily forgotten. “You have not met the man. He is positively awful.” Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened. “Forgive my frankness.”
Dayna laughed. “Allete would never punish you, especially not for telling the truth.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “We already saw him. We spied on them.” Dayna winked, looking completely unrepentant.
Lidia lowered her hand and made an ‘O’ shape with her mouth.


I straightened my dress and pulled my shoulders back. “Might as well face the music. I doubt he is going to turn around and sail back home without me.”


Quinn is an award winning author who lives in beautiful Western Arkansas with her husband, two sons, Nora the Doberman, and Chewy the Cat who thinks he's a dog. Sheis the author of 17 novels, and 2 novellas, including the USA Today bestseller, Fate andFury. Quinn is beyond thankful that she has been blessed to be able to write full time and hopes the readers know how much all of their support means to her. Some of her hobbies include reading, exercising, crochet, and spending time with family and friends. She gives all credit of her success to God because he gave her the creative spirit and vivid imagination it takes to write.
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