Follow by Email

Saturday, February 14, 2015

RELEASE DAY BLITZ - Fly Me to the Moon by Bev Elle @givemebooksblog & @Bev_Elle




Title: Fly Me to the Moon
Author: Bev Elle
 Release Date: February 14, 2015


Synopsis


Ticketing agent Jessamy Taylor has been in a dating slump exacerbated by moving her sickly mother into her home. The truth is she's never gotten over the quirky Dr. Griffin Sanderson whose Obsessive Compulsive Disorder drives her crazy, despite his excellent bedside manner.

Fly Me To The Moon is a love song covered by many, the most memorable being Frank Sinatra. Griffin whistles this tune incessantly, but that’s just one of the many odd quirks Jessamy Taylor either loves or hates about him. Since their ill-fated love affair two years prior, she’s found no one to replace the good doctor.

A date with a self-absorbed jerk that goes awry for Jessamy somehow ends with her in Griffin’s arms. Will the changes he’s made be enough this time, or will secrets tear them apart?



 








Links to Buy

AMAZON US / UK





 Excerpt

Chapter 2

Kyla rasped, “I-Is that Griffin petting a dog over there?”
Jessamy shielded her eyes with her hand and peered across the cul-de-sac. If she’d seen it first, she might have choked on her lemonade, too. Griffin Sanderson was petting the Fowlers’ dog. “Oh my God, he is!”
“Don’t they have like a gazillion germs or something? And what happened to his glasses?”
“Actually, some would argue that dogs are cleaner than humans. And Griffin got contacts.”
“Finally. You know, Jess, he’s looking kind of good, today. You might want to tap that again since he’s had a makeover and all.”
Jessamy waved her off. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“Why not? The guy I see over there looks infinitely tappable.” Kyla set her drink on the table and folded her arms.
Jessamy sipped her lemonade. “He may look tappable today, but you didn’t have to experience what I did with him as his girlfriend for two years. I should’ve called it quits after our Christmas trip to the Poconos, but I had fallen for him, and like so many misinformed women in history before me, I thought I could change him.”
“You’d think you two would’ve been great together, twin OCD and all. And I thought you said the trip to the Poconos was perfect.” Kyla said, air-quoting the word perfect.
“Everything was perfect up until that trip. We had so much in common. We both loved science fiction. We were both G.R.R. Martin geeks who watched the Game of Thrones show together and nitpicked how the show differed from the books. And even though I had the books on my kindle, he gifted me the hardbacks as a three-month anniversary present.” Jessamy smiled at the memory.
“I remember. You two were enough to make regular folks gag.”
“And you and Carter don’t—with your copious PDA?”
Kyla laughed. “But at least we don’t get all aroused over an episode of The Big Bang Theory.”
“Carter likes that show.”
“Not more than he likes me, though.” Kyla actually twirled her hair.
“Is he coming today?”
“Yeah, after he does his Saturday morning nine holes with his boss. Ugh!”
“Good, we’re going to need all the people we can get to eat up all this food.” Jessamy eyed the tables balefully.
“Look!” Kyla said. “Griffin’s holding the Fowlers’ baby. Now doesn’t that make your ovaries want to explode?”
Jessamy turned her head slowly, knowing the sight would slay her. Griffin never held babies. She took it all in as if in slow motion. Mark was holding their toddler in place as Jenny was cleaning up the sticky Popsicle he was covered in, while Griffin was holding the four-month old. He cradled her a bit nervously at first, then he seemed to get his baby-holding legs under him and finally began to smile and talk to her.
Jessamy and Kyla could hear her baby giggle from where they stood. “Aww!” They said in tandem.








Author Bio

Bev Elle the author of sweet and spicy, contemporary romance. A lover of books–many already written, and those she harbors in her very active imagination. Writing is a passion she’s had for many years, but was unable to act upon. Until now. Bev Elle is the mother of three human children and two canines. She is also the lover of one husband :) When Bev isn’t writing in her spare time after work, she is thinking of doing so.



Author Links

Giveaway

Seth King - The Summer Remains - Release Day Blitz

Title: The Summer Remains
Author: Seth King
Release Date: Feb 14, 2015
Find on Goodreads
Twenty-four-year-old Summer Johnson knows two things. The first is that due to a quickly worsening medical condition, she faces a risky surgery in three months’ time that may very well end in her death. The second is that she would like to fall in love before then.
As spring sinks into her namesake season on the Florida coastline, Summer plays the odds and downloads a new dating app - and after one intriguing message from a beautiful surfer named Cooper Nichols, it becomes clear that the story of what may be her last few months under the sun is about to be completely revised. All she has to do now is write something worth reading.
Tender, honest, devastating and triumphant, The Summer Remains explores a very human battle being waged in a very digital age: the search for a love that will outlast this temporary borrowing of bones. In an era when many feel compelled to share and re-share anything about everything, prepare to feel a love so special, you will want to hug it close and make it yours forever.
Chapter 1
On a sunny Tuesday morning towards the end of March, a white-haired man walked into a cold room and told me I might die soon.
I fidgeted on the hospital bed as Dr. Steinberg entered, the late-spring sunlight mocking me as smiled onto the industrial tile floors. I’d known Steinberg since I was four. He’d handled almost all of my throat problems, and I trusted him. He was like a second father to me, and I knew he would always tell me the truth.
That’s why the look on his face scared the living shit out of me.
I listened for the next ten minutes as he gave me the gist of the story. It was all so surreal that my mind could only catch certain phrases before the sentence would run away from me again:
Your esophagus has ruptured again, for good this time…
Your stomach is leaking more and more…
Toxicity levels are through the roof…
Your body just isn’t getting the nutrients it needs from your feeding tube any longer…
And finally, terminal.
“Terminal?” I heard myself squeak, my throat filling up with that weird, shivery feeling you get when you know your life has just changed. Steinberg suddenly became very interested in a fraying string on the sleeve of his jacket.
“T-terminal,” he stuttered. “Summer, the thing is…I’m afraid this is a…well, nobody has ever…”
He finally cleared his throat and met my gaze, tears pooling in the corners of his cerulean eyes. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry to tell you this, but this mountain may be unclimbable for you.”
My mother let out a small, sharp sob in the corner and then clapped her hands over her mouth.
“Okay, unclimbable,” I swallowed, staring down at the floor as I tried to grasp just what that word now meant to me and my family and this weird little life I had created for myself.  “Okay. Unclimbable. Okay.”
But Steinberg wasn’t done yet.
“Hold on. I said it may be unclimbable, not that it definitely will be. I want to prepare you, and I don’t want to give you any false hope, but there may be something we can do, Summer. It’s a small chance, but still, it’s a chance. A Hail Mary, if you will.”
I reached up to rub my temples. “Okay, well, survival sounds good. Better than death, I suppose. What is this Hail Mary?”
Steinberg crossed his arms, studied me for a moment, and then took out a chart and launched into a spiel about something called the Porter-Collins Procedure, an extremely major surgery that would perhaps be saving my life in three months’ time.
“Nobody has ever survived this particular operation,” he concluded a few minutes later, skipping all the medical jargon to keep from boring you to death, pardon my pun. “Nobody. It’s been attempted three times, but none of those were ultimately successful. One person survived for three months in intensive care, but she was fifty-one, and in frail health in general. We think you’re a much more viable candidate, but then again, there is no way to be sure. We can do it in two, maybe three months, after I assemble the specialists and create a game plan – considering your health doesn’t take another nosedive before then, that is. If we’re going to try this, we need you in tip-top shape – or as close to that as we can get you, anyway.”
“Okay,” I said again, sitting a little taller. “And what are the chances that this Hail Mary will even work, and that I won’t just die a few days later, anyway?”
He peered down at me from over his glasses. “I’m afraid to say that it would be stretching things to even tell you eighty/twenty.”
I steeled myself and took a breath. “Okay, well, that’s better than a hundred to zero. Let’s go out with a bang, then, Steinberg. Let’s do this.”
He threw up a fist, triumphant, but I could see the fear in his eyes. “It’s settled, then. Hail Mary it is.”
My mom rushed over to sit beside me and kind of hang onto my shoulder as some counselor woman came in who helped families handle these types of situations – “transitions,” she called them, and just hearing that word threatened to pull me under. Dr. Steinberg watched, an apology on his face, as she said things like “preparations” and “options” and “arrangements.” I tried to be polite and pay attention, but truthfully I didn’t give a damn about what she was saying. It was go time, and things were looking grim. I already knew that. The wet, metallic panic erupting in my stomach was due to an entirely different subject.
“And finally,” the counselor, Angie, said in a hushed, clipped, polite voice that spoke of years of having impossible conversations with worried families huddled in chilly waiting rooms, “I work very closely with Last Great Hope, a wonderful organization that specializes in situations like this, and if there is anything you want before the surgery, Summer – a trip to Tahiti, a cabin in the mountains, whatever – we can do it. Or if-”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, making her stop short.
“Wh – excuse me?”
“Save the Disney trips for the twelve-year-olds,” I told her. “Spend all that money on a cancer kid or something; I know the truth about those fairy tales now. Make someone else happy – I’ve got everything I need. Or almost everything.” I paused as everyone leaned in. “I do have one request, actually. First of all, all of you are forgetting something vital.”
“Oh no, did we forget your milk?” my mom asked as she reached for her purse. “I thought I put some-”
“No, Shelly, we did not forget the baby milk I pump into my stomach tube every day to keep myself alive because my throat doesn’t work, but that does have something to do with it.”
As she pouted in my general direction I realized what a complete bitch I was being, and then I realized just as quickly that I probably wouldn’t be able to stop myself anyway.
“What is it, then?” my mom asked, stung, and I took a breath and then pushed it back out.
“Frankly, I need all of you to chill the fuck out.”
My mom dropped her purse onto her lap. Dr. Steinberg looked at me like I’d just tried to jump out of the third story window. Angie held her pen in midair and stared at me, the sun turning her brownish eyes ocher.
“Excuse me, young lady?” my mother asked. “We need to what?”
“Chill the eff out,” I said, editing my language the second time around. “Sorry, but all this emotion and drama and doom and gloom crap is already making me freak out. You’re all forgetting I’ve had a broken throat and a tube in my abdomen since I was in diapers, and that I can handle this. I’ve dealt with health scares before, and I will do it again, no matter how much scarier this Scare is than all the other Scares. Like, I know you’re trying to help and stuff, and I love you, but having meltdowns in front of me is not going to help me deal with all this, so please, I beg you, everyone take a deep breath, close your eyes, and get your panties out of a bunch.”
“We’re sorry,” my mom said after an impossibly long and awkward moment. “It’s just that we need to prepare you for…for what will happen, and-”
“Prepare me to die?” I asked. “Guess what, Shelly, I’m going to die one day, be it in three months or sixty years, and wasting all my time crying over it isn’t going to help. Here’s what I want, my one last wish – or my maybe-not-last wish, or whatever the hell this is.” A tear appeared in my mom’s eye, and I softened my voice as I reached up to wipe her cheek. “Okay. Before the surgery, I want to have a normal summer by the beach,” I began as I cleared her eye and shook the water from my finger. “I want to go to the sea and go to work and read my books and go about my business like usual without everyone breathing down my neck and treating me like A Broken Person, because if I am treated like A Broken Person for one more month of my life I will break some faces, no offense. Shelly, if you so much as make one special meal – I mean, not that I can eat or anything, because I can’t – anyway, I’m burning down the house. There will literally be a pile of smoldering ashes where your kitchen used to be, I promise.” Shelly pouted again, but I trudged through. “I’m serious, no special treatment. No Christmases in July, no excessive hugging, not even a midnight run to Target for some trinkets from the dollar section. And most of all…”
I looked around and, seeing sympathy in everyone’s eyes and knowing this request would be completely futile, said – “No sympathy. Please. The sympathy is what breaks me and makes me feel broken. If this is gonna be my last chance to live and have fun and be normal, then I’m going to need to feel as normal as possible, and that means absolutely no pity, because that separates me from everyone else and makes me Different with a capital D. And if I don’t stay in a good headspace I’m gonna spend the next three months in a fetal position in my closet having an endless anxiety attack about the surgery, so please work with me here and keep the pity locked up.”
A sigh and a smile. Shelly put her hand on mine. “I would never pity you, Summer. You’re the strongest person I know, and you always have been. You know that. We all know that. That’s not what this is about.”
I tried to smile back. “Thanks, Shelly.”
“Anytime. And can you please call me Mom, like a normal twenty-four-year-old?”
“Not a chance, Shelly.”
“Okay, fine. So, then…a Jax Beach summer? Is that really all you want?”
I paused as her words hung in the overly sanitized air. It wasn’t all, and I knew it. As I sat there I thought of the one thing I didn’t have, the one thing I’d never had, the one thing that screamed at me from the silence and jumped out at me from the shadows – and now that this upcoming summer had perhaps just become Summer’s Last Stand, my desire was suddenly more urgent than ever. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop the longing from rising to my face, and as I felt the blood burn my cheeks I caught Steinberg’s eyes again, which just embarrassed me even more.
“Well, I mean, since you’re asking, there is one thing…”
“Anything!” Shelly and Dr. Steinberg said at exactly the same time, and I stared out of the window as my eyes got all weird and watery.
“Okay, well, I know something so sentimental is going to sound crazy coming from someone so…well, you know how I am…”
“Honest?” Steinberg offered, trying to be polite.
“Opinionated?” Shelly said.
“Brash?” Angie asked, even though she’d just met me ten minutes ago and it was literally beyond embarrassing that she already held that opinion of me.
“Headstrong and stubborn and annoying,” I finally said, shoving it out of the way, and they all nodded. “Anyway, here goes. Since you’re asking, the thing is…well, I’d like to fall in love.”
I looked down at the ground again as everyone in the room broke my most important rule already: I could feel their pity descending on me, smothering me just like it had my entire life, snuffing out any chance I had at being treated like a normal, living, breathing human, who deserved to love and be loved just like anyone else, as they say in the Hallmark cards.
“Oh, honey…” Steinberg sighed.
“It just wouldn’t be fair to someone…” my mother chimed in, just as Angie the counselor lady threw in her two cents, too.
“Sweetie, you have to understand, your situation is very serious. People get irrational during times like these, and if you get involved with someone and the worst happened, well-”
I crossed my fingers behind my back and shook my head. I’d known they’d react like this – why had I even tried in the first place? Some things, I knew, were just better left unshared.
“Yeah,” I said. “Okay, yeah, you guys are right. I’ll try to…put that off, I guess. For now. God knows I have tons of time to think about it – it’s not like I’m dying or anything.”
Everyone forced quick, fake laughs and then got back to business. Unbeknownst to them, however, my mind was quickly leaving the room, flying past the barren oak branches outside the window and soaring above the clouds to someplace only I knew. My desires could not be contained by the circumstances in this room, or by sickness, or even by reality in general, really. I wanted love more than anything – this was true, as much as it humiliated me to admit it. I’d wanted love ever since I was a cookie-cutter little girl being brainwashed by cookie-cutter Disney movies about cookie-cutter princes and princesses falling into cookie-cutter love and then prancing off to their cookie-cutter castles to live out their cookie-cutter lives. And strangely enough, this desire had only deepened after the fairy tale fantasies faded away and melted into a more grown up, real-world entity known as relationship FOMO, when my condition had rendered me an observer from the social media sidelines as everyone my age paired up and got engaged and married and pregnant and then shouted about it from the Facebook treetops as loud as their keyboards would let them while I sat there single as a nun with the flu. But I didn’t want that cookie cutter love from the Disney movies and my social media feeds. I didn’t want some run of the mill summer romance that would fizzle out as soon as the sunrays slanted in the fall and the Facebook Official status went to shit.
Because I, Summer Johnson, Purveyor of Pragmatism, Lover of Logic, Ultimate Believer in the Rational, and Person Who Was Maybe Going To Die Soon, wanted to drown in someone.

Seth King is a twenty-five-year-old author and artist.

~ HOT PREORDERS! ~

20 VALENTINE'S DAY STORIES!


Fly Me To The Moon Release Blitz


Ticketing agent Jessamy Taylor has been in a dating slump exacerbated by moving her sickly mother into her home. The truth is she's never gotten over the quirky Dr. Griffin Sanderson whose Obsessive Compulsive Disorder drives her crazy, despite his excellent bedside manner.

Fly Me To The Moon is a love song covered by many, the most memorable being Frank Sinatra. Griffin whistles this tune incessantly, but that’s just one of the many odd quirks Jessamy Taylor either loves or hates about him. Since their ill-fated love affair two years prior, she’s found no one to replace the good doctor.

A date with a self-absorbed jerk that goes awry for Jessamy somehow ends with her in Griffin’s arms. Will the changes he’s made be enough this time, or will secrets tear them apart?

Kyla rasped, “I-Is that Griffin petting a dog over there?”
Jessamy shielded her eyes with her hand and peered across the cul-de-sac. If she’d seen it first, she might have choked on her lemonade, too. Griffin Sanderson was petting the Fowlers’ dog. “Oh my God, he is!”
“Don’t they have like a gazillion germs or something? And what happened to his glasses?”
“Actually, some would argue that dogs are cleaner than humans. And Griffin got contacts.”
“Finally. You know, Jess, he’s looking kind of good, today. You might want to tap that again since he’s had a makeover and all.”
Jessamy waved her off. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“Why not? The guy I see over there looks infinitely tappable.” Kyla set her drink on the table and folded her arms.
Jessamy sipped her lemonade. “He may look tappable today, but you didn’t have to experience what I did with him as his girlfriend for two years. I should’ve called it quits after our Christmas trip to the Poconos, but I had fallen for him, and like so many misinformed women in history before me, I thought I could change him.”
“You’d think you two would’ve been great together, twin OCD and all. And I thought you said the trip to the Poconos was perfect.” Kyla said, air-quoting the word perfect.
“Everything was perfect up until that trip. We had so much in common. We both loved science fiction. We were both G.R.R. Martin geeks who watched the Game of Thrones show together and nitpicked how the show differed from the books. And even though I had the books on my kindle, he gifted me the hardbacks as a three-month anniversary present.” Jessamy smiled at the memory.
“I remember. You two were enough to make regular folks gag.”
“And you and Carter don’t—with your copious PDA?”
Kyla laughed. “But at least we don’t get all aroused over an episode of The Big Bang Theory.”
“Carter likes that show.”
“Not more than he likes me, though.” Kyla actually twirled her hair.
“Is he coming today?”
“Yeah, after he does his Saturday morning nine holes with his boss. Ugh!”
“Good, we’re going to need all the people we can get to eat up all this food.” Jessamy eyed the tables balefully.
“Look!” Kyla said. “Griffin’s holding the Fowlers’ baby. Now doesn’t that make your ovaries want to explode?”
Jessamy turned her head slowly, knowing the sight would slay her. Griffin never held babies. She took it all in as if in slow motion. Mark was holding their toddler in place as Jenny was cleaning up the sticky Popsicle he was covered in, while Griffin was holding the four-month old. He cradled her a bit nervously at first, then he seemed to get his baby-holding legs under him and finally began to smile and talk to her.
Jessamy and Kyla could hear her baby giggle from where they stood. “Aww!” They said in tandem.
Bev Elle is the author of sweet and spicy, contemporary romance. She's a lover of books - those already written, and those she harbors in her very active imagination. Writing is a passion she's had for many years, but was unable to act upon. Until now. Bev Elle is the mother of three human children and two canines. She is also the lover of one husband. When Bev isn't writing in her spare time after work, she is thinking of doing so.

Hosted By:





                                        






Fate's Love and Love's Spark by LA Cotton Sales Blitz


fateslove sales blitz

sales blitz

amazon-cover

Book Title: Fate's Love 
Author: L.A. Cotton 
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Fiction 
Release Date: September 30, 2014 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Goodreads Button with Shadow

 Book Blurb


Fate’s Love


When you meet that one person in the world meant for you... you should hold onto them.

Olivia Bannon walked away.

Twice.

When 17-year-old Livy meets Ethan, she can’t deny their inexplicable connection. Lost in his dark, intense eyes and smile-to-die-for, Livy never thought she would feel like this. It almost makes her want to break her childhood vow, but Livy knows happily ever after is just an illusion, and despite her heart wanting Ethan, her head is telling her to stick with the plan. The one that doesn’t include falling in love. Period.

Eight years later, Livy finds herself back in her hometown. After the way she left things, the last time they were together, Livy is anxious about seeing Ethan again. It shouldn’t come as shock to discover he has finally moved on—but it hurts. A lot. Accepting that she will never get the chance to put things right isn’t easy, but it’s not until life comes crashing down around her that Livy realizes what she could’ve had. Left broken, alone, and depressed, only one person can pull her out—the guy she thought she'd pushed away one too many times.

Livy has finally realized that you can’t fight fate… Some things are just meant to be. Is this finally her time to get it right, or has Livy missed her last chance with Ethan?

excerpt

Fate's Love

“Liv, what’s going on? Is she okay? Keefer told me what went down.”

I moved away from the door and met Ethan halfway. “No, she isn’t okay.” It came out bitter.

“Can I do anything? I could come-”

I shook my head. “We’re fine, thanks.” Without realizing I stepped back and Ethan’s face paled.

“And us?”

My eyes dropped to the floor.

“Liv, look at me. What. About. Us?”

I forced myself to look at him. My head and heart were at war. My heart wanted him to wrap me in his arms and tell me everything was going to be okay. That Amber would heal. That Sharn would meet her Prince Charming. That we really did have something. But my head knew better. My head would always know better.

“There is no us. I’m sorry, Ethan. Goodbye.” I turned from him and fled back to the limo.

“You’re running from me, Liv. Don’t use this as an excuse to run,” he called out.

Once in the safety of the limo, I slammed the door behind me, ignoring Sharn’s questioning glare.

“How is she?”

“A mess. This will leave scars.” Sharn answered.

I leaned my head onto the backrest and pressed a finger to my lips, trying to remember what kissing Ethan felt like. Was it even real? It didn’t feel real. Not now. It felt like a dream—the really good kind, until you wake up and realize it was just that.

A dream.

Because in the harsh light of day, life wasn’t like that. It was hard—full of hurt and people who let you down.

No, life wasn't like a dream at all.

Teasers
For Release 2 For Release

3D-stack-promo

Book Title: Love's Spark 
Author: L.A. Cotton 
Genre: NA Contemporary Romance 
Release Date: December 2014

Goodreads Button with Shadow

Book Blurb

Love’s Spark
Twenty-four year old Sharn Macer has spent the last six years looking for love....for that spark. She's failing miserably. After a life changing break up forces her back to her broken home, and into a string of dating disasters, Sharn decides it's time to hang up her heels and take a break from guys.

She didn’t expect to find the spark… with the quiet guy from her past.

Keefer Smith likes to keep to himself, always has and probably always will. He doesn't have time to date, not when he’s constantly worrying about what state he'll find his father in. Lucky for him, he does have one thing going for him; baseball.

He didn’t expect to want more… with the girl he once watched from afar.

Back in high school, Sharn would never have looked twice at someone like him, and Keefer would’ve never stood a chance with someone like her. But six years is a long time, and when they find themselves placed in charge of seventeen ninth graders they soon realize they might not be as different as they think. The chemistry is right, even if the timing is all wrong.

Sparks will fly, but will they spark love?

excerpt 

Love's Spark

The Lounge was crammed. Friday nights were always full of students, but it was the best club for a more chilled out vibe. It had two rooms; a bar area and a dance area, then there was a huge covered courtyard. After navigating the queue at the bar, I managed to get us drinks. We wound our way through the crowds of drunken, rowdy college kids, and found an empty sofa at the far end of the courtyard. Sharn’s body moved in time to the music, and from how natural she made it looked, I could tell she liked to dance—something I never did.

“It's really busy.” Her words sounded a little slurred.

“Are you drunk? You only had two glasses of wine with dinner.” I mocked. I'd switched to soda after a couple of beers—I was driving.

“I am not!” She gasped. “I'm just excited. I don't get out all that much.”

“What about your friend? The girl I saw you with at 42nds?”

She turned her body slightly to face me. “Mae? We work together, and have a Friday night ritual. She's married though.”

My eyes glanced over her neck and chest, lingering over her low cut dress. I could just make out the curve of her tits.

“Hey.” She snapped her fingers in front of my nose. “My face is here, mister.”

Busted.

“I can't help where my eyes decide to look. Did you blow off your Friday night ritual with Mae, for me?”

She blushed again, and my inner guy punched the air—I affected her as much as she affected me. “Maybe. Hmm-” She hesitated, as if she wanted to ask me something. My stomach pooled with dread.

“Can I ask you something? Where did you go last weekend?”

Fuck. It would be so easy to tell her the truth—to let her in. But I choked, unable to do it. I didn't want to ruin the night—to see the pity in her eyes. I didn't want her to feel sorry for me. So I played the game I'd been playing from the start. Leaning forward, I dipped my head and swept her hair away from her shoulder with my hand. As I brushed my lips against the soft spot underneath her ear, she trembled and I whispered, “Not tonight. I'll tell you, but not tonight.”

She let out a breathy sign as I curved my arm around her waist and pulled her body flush to mine. Our lips found each other's, and I knew. This was it for me. She was it. But she still knew nothing about me, and that scared the shit out of me. I had to tell her. And soon. Or I'd lose her. Someone like Sharn wouldn’t play games for long.

Teasers Teaser 1 new Teaser 3 new
Meet the Author

Author Pic


L. A. Cotton has a busy mind in need of constant stimulation. A youth worker from the Midlands, UK, if L. A isn’t immersed in a book, she’s figuring out what course to study next. With an imagination that refuses to stay quiet, early this year, L. A finally decided to put finger to keyboard and start typing. Her debut novel, Fate’s Love releases September 30th.

When she’s not busy reading, writing, and plotting future books, L. A. is mum to two gorgeous children, and their hyper terrier, Rocky.

Social Media

websitetwitterFacebookpinterestGoodreads

Buy the Book

fateslove sales card

amazon usamazon UKB&Nkobo
vday saleBEPRectangle