Showing posts with label HEA Book Tours PR & More. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HEA Book Tours PR & More. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

The Bowen Series Blitz Tour

The Bowen Series by Elle Aycart
MORE THAN MEETS THE INK
Series: Bowen #1
Wickedly sexy James Bowen is a bad boy of the highest order -- tattoos and attitude included -- which unfortunately ranks way up on Tate's not-a-chance-in-hell list, right there along with skydiving naked over Teheran and juggling Ebola vials just for kicks. But what the heck, she's on holiday, the guy is absolutely irresistible, and she needs to unplug from her life. With her dad and brother gone, Tate is left to deal with the family restaurant, which is fast going down the drain. Her employees are acting out, her boyfriend has bailed out, and her very own private stalker is emailing her to death with lovely threats of doom, fire, and dismemberment. So yeah, maybe a little holiday fling is in order. Strictly sex though, and no follow-up whatsoever once home.

She hadn't counted on her take-charge holiday fling having an opinion of his own and stubbornly sticking around, before and after the sex, making himself at home in her life. There is definitely more to James than meets her prejudiced eye, and even if she's not ready to look deeper, James isn't prepared to permit her not to.




HEAVY ISSUES
Series: Bowen #2
Steering clear of relationships has never been difficult for demolitions expert Cole Bowen, but now, with his brother's engagement sending the female population into full-blown hysterics and the town of Alden's month-long festivities helping along, he finds himself in hell. When he discovers Alden's new resident and the object of all his wet dreams, Christine Sheridan, has sworn off relationships and is going to hire a gigolo to get professionally laid, he decides to kill two birds with one stone.

Christy is so not drinking again. Thanks to José Cuervo she has her friends signing her up for stud conventions and Cole frigging Bowen offering sex in exchange of fake dates, which is so out of the question it isn't even funny. She knows the domineering man will push her boundaries, and after battling all her life with self-esteem issues, she isn't ready for that. Too bad he won't take no for an answer.

Cole is determined to strip away all of her defenses but refuses to lower his ever-present walls, so when Christy realizes she wants more, she's left with only two options; walk away or crack his shield and risk her heart in the process.


INKED EVER AFTER
Series: Bowen #2.5
Tattooed bad boy James Bowen is about to marry the love of his life. Everything would be perfect if it wasn't for the tiny detail that his bride-to-be is freaking out big time. And trying to hide it from him.

Tate Cooper is losing it. She loves James with all her heart and wants to be married to him; it's the getting married that's killing her. Still grieving the loss of her father and brother,and totally overwhelmed by the wedding arrangements, she's in full emotional meltdown. But James deserves a happy bride, not a high-maintenance, sorrow-filled, guilt-stricken one, and, by God, she's going to give him that, even if she has to paste on a smile and fake it till she makes it.

James doesn't know whether to be amused or pissed. He understands she's running scared, but there is no way in hell he's going to allow this to continue; he's going to push her to confront her fears until she happily embraces their ever after.


TO THE MAX
Series: Bowen #3
Forensic accountant Annie Griffin has always suspected she's a bit jinxed, so when she finds herself 35, single, temporarily homeless, and pregnant by a gigolo, her fears are confirmed.

Adrenaline junkie and professional stuntman Max Bowen needs a house-sitter to watch after his pets while he's out of town. Annie needs a place to stay. Standard quid pro quo. No biggie. She can handle that, whatever hellhounds he owns--until Max, the most sought-after bachelor in the county, comes back ahead of schedule and she ends up being roommates with a 27-year old sex god who turns out to be so much more than what she expected.

Max might have had the attention span of a humming bird on crack when it comes to women, but that was before Annie. Her quirkiness and sweet contradictions soon captivate him, not that she's inclined to give him the time of the day. With his reputation preceding him, he knows the odds are stacked against him, but he will do his best to prove her that he's what she needs, stuck-up socialite grandmothers, doomsday preppers, groupies, pregnancy hormones, and repentant biological dads be damned.




~ BONUS SCENE of To The Max! ~
This scene is NOT in the book!

Best way to spend Valentine's? Seven and a half months pregnant, on a Florida beach, looking like a whale among sirens, with your feet so swollen they seemed floating boats, and watching your sex God of a boyfriend being ogled and salivated upon by ten-years-younger-than-you, skinny women.
Yep, best way ever. Hands down.
Max had had to travel to Florida for work, and had insisted on Annie accompanying him. "Insisted" was too mild a word. He'd totally taken over and made all the arrangements. She'd been presented with a plane ticket and a "we're leaving tomorrow, pack your swimsuit."
Her man was bossy.
She would have wanted to object, but Boston in February was no match for Florida. The nice weather, the beach. Max kitesurfing, doing one of his stunts while being filmed. Yummy.
Sadly, she wasn't the only one that thought so. Apparently the whole of Florida's female population agreed with her.
When the shooting was about done, Annie stood up from the sun lounger and tried approaching. Several gorgeous groupies, fluffing out their hair, with bikinis that left little to imagination, giggling and swaying their hips like there was no tomorrow, rushed ahead, leaving her in the dust.
Well, what did she expect? Max was gorgeous with that sexy short Mohawk of his all mussed and his trimmed beard. Tanned. All wet from the sea, his muscles bulging and glistening, his dark blond hair bleached by the sun. And that permanent roguish smirk on his face, like he was flirting with life. She'd bet any-frigging-thing all the women on the beach had their girlie parts tingling, just from looking at him.
After wrapping things up, Max turned around and moved toward Annie, smiling. The women in front of her were already breathless, waving at him. He passed the groupies without a second look and went straight to her, taking her in his arms and kissing the living wits out of her.
"One zero for the whale," she whispered when he let her up for breath.
"What?" he asked, totally oblivious to the way the groupies glared and pouted.
"You missed a turn. Your fans there thought you were walking to them."
He snorted. "Don't give a fuck what they thought. I want you. Only you. Haven't you realized it yet?"
Yes, she had. The first day of the shooting, Annie would had preferred to stay behind, intimidated as she was with all the gorgeousness around, but he hadn't allowed it; he'd kept her by his side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Kissing her and being sweet in front of God and everyone.
Lots of jaws had dropped.
"You done?" she whispered to him.
Max nodded. "I'm all yours now."
All hers. She loved the sound of that.
"So now what?"
"Now we get ready to celebrate Valentine's," he stated.
"Are we celebrating it at the hotel?"
"Nope."
"Where then?"
"You'll see."
Damn, he'd been so close-lipped about the whole thing. Their kick-ass, top-of-the-line hotel had been fully paid for until the next morning. And by the looks of it, they were pulling out all the stops preparing for the event.
"I need to know what to dress for," she insisted. "Beach picnic? Amusement park? Fancy restaurant? Naked date in the Jacuzzi?" It could be anything, considering who her Valentine was.
He brushed his lips with hers. "Dress how you want, Ace. You'll be stunning anyway and everybody will think I'm the luckiest bastard alive for being allowed to walk by your side. I'm holding you to the naked part for later, though," he added with a wink. "Now let's get going. We're expected soon."
Annie was relieved when she noticed Max had on jeans and a T-shirt. If he would had broken out the tuxedo, she would have been in trouble, seeing as the only outfits she'd packed were maternity swimsuits and flowy summer dresses.
Once ready, he clasped her hand in his and walked her to the car. At her inquiring look, he just said, "Trust me. It'll be memorable."
She had no doubt about it. So far, everything with Max had been.
They drove for over an hour. When he parked the car, she looked at her surroundings and broke into laughter. "The Eternal Sun resort?"
He nodded. "I promised you memorable, love. This is the place to have it, surrounded by couples averaging fifty years of marriage."
She'd heard so much about this place she was giddy with excitement. And a bit terrified, because there was a crowd at the entrance, already waving at them.
She turned to him. "Are they waiting for us?"
He waved back. "Yep. They are all very excited to meet you. We have a busy schedule, I hear. Bingo. Then romantic dinner. Then dancing under the stars and poker for the two-left-feet ones."
They had barely made it out of the car when those senior ladies were hugging and smooching them. Congratulating them on the baby and treating her as if they'd known her for freaking ever.
Bingo was a blast, not to mention the outrageous way those seniors tried to cheat. Dinner too. The common area had been transformed into a very romantic outdoors restaurant, with candles and roses and tables for two, but those seniors didn't believe in privacy, and before they made it to the second course, most tables had been pushed together, and Annie and Max were eating with a loud bunch who, in spite of their nosiness, were adorable.
Annie'd heard the Bowen brothers were very well liked at the Eternal Sun, but she had no clue how much.
Everybody there knew him and treated him like he was part of the family. And Max was so at ease with them too.
By desert Annie's side hurt from laughing so hard. Apparently fifty years of marriage gave for a lot of Valentine's anecdotes, all of them hilarious.
"I've had all sorts of Valentine's dates, from the totally awesome to the totally horrendous," Annie whispered into Max's crook after dinner, as they danced. "Nothing compared to this. This is off the charts."
"Off-the-charts horrendous or off-the-charts awesome?" he asked, spinning her around to the slow music.
She laughed. "Awesome, of course."
"I'm glad you're pleased."
Pleased? They were in the Eternal Sun resort on the dance floor, surrounded by couples who had been together for more than half a century, yet they were still holding hands. Cooing at each other. Laughing at each others' jokes.  
"They loved you," Max continued. "I got the third degree for not bringing you here until now."
"You got the third degree? Because I did too."
A frown marred his beautiful face. "What do you mean?"
"I was asked what were my intentions toward you." Several times, actually, during bingo and dinner. "Everybody loves you here." They'd been singing Max's praises all night long. And warning her about hurting him.
Max laughed. "And what are your intentions?"
"Well, I told them I plan to use you as a sex toy and then dump you to the curb," she joked.
His amused snort was loud and clear. "You can use me as a sex toy all you want, no objections whatsoever. You know my cock will always be hard for you, but you won't dump me to the curb, I won't let you."
The intensity in his words and his erection pressing against her abraded her senses. Man, even in the middle of a senior community he could turn her on, just by whispering into her ear.
They danced until the wee hours and then, as promised, she ended up naked in the Jacuzzi.
Best way to spend Valentine's Day? Or any other day of her life for that matter? With Max. Hands down.

Elle Aycart
After a colorful array of jobs all over Europe ranging from translator to chocolatier to travel agent to sushi chef to flight dispatcher, Elle Aycart is certain of one thing and one thing only: aside from writing romances, she has abso-frigging-lutely no clue what she wants to do when she grows up. Not that it stops her from trying all sorts of crazy stuff. While she is probably now thinking of a new profession, her head never stops churning new plots for her romances. She lives currently in Barcelona, Spain, with her husband and two daughters, although who knows, in no time she could be living at the Arctic Circle in Finland, breeding reindeer.


@AycartElle

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Thursday, February 5, 2015

Holding Blog Tour


39 & HOLDING by M.R. Joseph
Publication Date: January 2, 2015

~ SYNOPSIS ~
My name is Greer Walker. Mom of two. Friend. Daughter. Dance instructor. And, let’s not forget—a woman scorned.

For the fourteen years were were married and the twenty years we were together, I devoted my life to my husband. What did I get in return? Heart break, crows feet, stretch marks, and a slew of insecurities.

You see, the douchebag dumped me for a twenty-five year-old, real-life Barbie Doll with a large repertoire of medical enhancements. He crushed my heart. His affair destroyed me. The signs were there-I just chose not to see them.

Finally with my eyes wide open, I vowed to never go through that kind of heartache again. I didn't need someone to make me feel special or beautiful, or sexually charged. Hell, I can take care of that part on my own if you know what I mean. It was twenty years since I last dated-and I was okay with never doing it again.

But…There’s always a but.

The day Nick Costa walked into my life—or rather drove right into it—he made me feel all sorts of things that this woman right here had no business feeling. Lot's of feelings. He made me ask myself questions.

Could I allow someone into my life again? Could I risk being hurt? Could Nick deal with all the insecurities the fallout of my marriage produced?

I am thirty-nine! Can I start all over again? Can I let go of the past in order to have a chance at a future with this man?

You might want to stick around to discover the answers.

For now, I'll be 39 & holding.

Genre: Romantic Comedy
Standalone Novel


Get your copy on Amazon!



~ PROLOGUE ~
I was blind. Blind as a bat. I mean I was actually more blind than a bat. At least a bat can see what it needs to see when it needs to see it, or what it wants to see.

I didn't see it and it was right there in front of me.

For months.

I guess I should have really spotted all the warning signs. They were as bright as the lights on a neon sign that hangs above a bar, or a tattoo shop, or a strip club. You know the ones that practically flash in your face and say, “Hey, come on in and open your eyes, moron.” Well, I was not that person. Like I said before, I was blind.

Oh, right, back to the signs. Okay, so the first, let's call this exhibit A. This would be the new job, late nights at the office, and late dinner meetings with clients. Totally acceptable. You have to start at the bottom if you want to make it to the top. I got it. Back then, I got it.

Then there's exhibit B. Last-minute business trips. Yes, spare-of-the-moment trips that required a bathing suit and a crazy looking Hawaiian shirt, and a trip to Macy's for some new underwear. Sigh...yes. Fucking boxer briefs. No more tighty whities with the wet fart stains. I tried to bleach them out for fourteen years. What the fuck was I thinking?

Well, I wasn't.

Let's not forget about exhibit C. See C is a big one. It's the one that made me start to question my sanity. Electronics. They are the devil. If I could rid the world of cell phones or email, trust me I would. They are the spawn of Satan himself. If I didn't have to use a cell phone to keep in constant contact with my kids, I wouldn't have one. But this is the age of electronics and the be all and end all of love, hope, and forgiveness. And don't even get me started on girly, fruity, sexy fragrances. They are the eye of newt in this witches brew of lies and deceit. But I'll get back to that later.

I'm still on electronics. Yes, phones buzzing in the middle of the night and feeling the shift in the mattress as the phone that was buzzing is picked up and taken out of my earshot. I heard the whispers, thinking maybe, God forbid, someone forgot to tell someone about a big audit.

Big audit problems at one a.m. Yeah...audit my ass.

Emails. Ha, ha. Oh, yes. Emails. Such a brainless way of getting information from one person to another via the computer.

Whether for business or pleasure—well in my story it was for someone else's pleasure—it's the cherry on the proverbial top of the sundae in the form of communication or miscommunication. Depends how you see it.

In my case, it was simply the means to the end.

One email. One stupid email that sent my happy home into turmoil and into a tornado of absolute disarray.

I'm not a violent person by nature. I mean, I don't even own a fly swatter and I hate those outdoor bug zappers. Just listening to a mosquito in the summer sizzle as it’s electrocuted by a thousand bolts of electricity...I just hate it. But when I saw the words written in an email to my husband when I accidentally—yes accidentally—clicked on his account, I felt violent.

Ryan,

Can't wait for you to fuck me even harder tonight, baby.

xx- Giselle

Who names their kid that unless she's a princess in a Disney movie or some shit like that?

Giselle. Christ Almighty. That name. I can't even say it without green, acid-inducing vomit rising up in my throat, which will probably be the cause of esophageal cancer somewhere down the road.

But back to the email, oh and my distaste for swatting at innocent insects. Remember me telling you I'm not a violent person? The night I found the email, when my husband of fifteen years was fast asleep in our marriage bed, the man I had been with since I was nineteen and in my final semester as a freshman year in college. Yes, that one with the thick dirty-blond hair. Well…that night he had a little less of it because a clump rested in the palm of my hand after I dragged his sorry ass out of bed by the roots to confront him. The man is dead weight when he's asleep, but the adrenaline I felt that night took over any weakness or guilt of harming another human being, animal, or insect. Ryan Walker was all of the above except for the human part. He was the animal and the insect. If I had one of those outdoor insect buzzy-killing things, I would have thrown him in it and watched his body be charred to a crisp. Like he did my heart.

Sound a little violent to you? The dance instructor turned murderer? I guess you could say violent. I mean I wouldn't have done it...that way. Arsenic-laced cupcakes anyone?

He didn't deny it. After I screamed and cried and clawed at his face—and smashed the laptop jumping on it like a two-year-old—we just sat there in silence. We leaned against our bed like we were two strangers. Not two people that had been together for twenty years. We leaned our backs against the bed we picked out when we got home from our honeymoon. The bed we fucked in, watched movies in, had tickle fights in, and made two amazing children in. Now, it was just holding us up from falling. Me mostly. I learned he fell about six months before that. When he had her in my bed. My husband fucked Giselle, the long-legged, half-French-half-whatever whore, when I was away in Phoenix for a master class in Ballet, in my bed. Did I mention it was in my bed? My loving husband said he had to work that entire weekend and thought it would be better if the kids went to my dad’s because he felt bad he would not be able to spend ample time with them. He would not be able to take Cole to his baseball game or go watch Sophie take her dance class. What a good dad. Thinking of the children before himself.

Enter sarcasm here. Asshole.

Have you even tried to figure out what to do with a broken fifteen-year marriage in one sleepless night? I have. Trust me, you don't look like Miss America after a night of crying and lack of rest. The bags under my eyes—yes there was enough of them to take me to Mexico for a month. And the leftover mascara that streamed down my face, ha, ha, it made me look like Courtney Love from Hole. It's sad really. You think you know someone. You sacrifice for that person, you give them everything, and what they give you in return is heartache.

Do you know what it feels like to have someone tell you they are no longer in love with you? You don't? Truth is, I don't want you to know. I would never want anyone to feel the pain that I have felt. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

Did you know that your heart actually hurts when you break up? I mean that fateful night I thought I was having a heart attack. Here it was just my heart cracking inside, dying—weeping—in total agony. That's exactly what a broken heart feels like. Doubt me? Think I'm exaggerating? I wouldn't think those things if I were you.

I told him I smelled her in our bedroom but at the time thought it was the scent of the new laundry detergent I had recently bought.

Remember the fruity, girly, sexy scent I told you about? Yeah, well laundry detergent doesn't smell like that. Guess I couldn't smell that well either.

He told me he loved her. I think I would have tried to make it work with him if he would not have told me that. He told me he loved me for being a good mother to our kids, but that he was no longer in love with me.

He left the next day.

Please don't get me started on how my kids reacted. Cole, my thirteen-year-old, bad, I mean real bad. He said he hated Ryan. I told him that was wrong. Daddy just didn't love Mommy and sometimes that happens, but he would always love him and his sister. Sophie, my six-year-old, just asked questions about having two Christmases and then she went back to play with her Barbies.

The first hard thing was seeing his side of the closet empty and his medicine cabinet in the bathroom bare of all his shaving things and colognes. A few days after he left I still smelled his scent lingering in the air, and I have to admit, I clung to it. Inhaled it and kept it in my lungs until they burned with remembrance. I had grown tired of that.

It eventually left. There were no traces of Ryan Walker in my home. Our home. The one we once shared. He gave me the house. I earn enough to keep it up. He pays the mortgage out of guilt I suppose and lives with...oh, God forgive me while I swallow my vomit...okay…I'm back…while he lives with what’s her name.

I got rid of the bed by the way. I wanted to set it on fire like Angela Bassett did in ‘How Stella Got Her Groove Back.’ Torch it in the front yard for all the neighbors to see.

The trash men took it instead. That's what it wound up being. Trash. Like the way I felt. Left out on the curb. Discarded. Replaced.

So here I am.

Greer Walker, thirty-nine, and single after twenty years. My kids are gone most weekends with their dad and one night during the week.

And I'm alone. But that's okay because I won't ever let my heart or my pride be smashed beyond recognition again. I'll be a cat lady once my kids are grown and out of the house. No offense to all the cat lovers out there.

I'm done with giving myself completely to one person. I can do this. I'm a big girl. I'll be okay.

Being single isn't so bad. Being thirty-nine and single isn't so bad.

Soon forty will be knocking at my door and I'll answer it with my head held high. I'll do my best to welcome it.

Forty. The big 4-0. The over-the-hill; the crest of going from a Lamb to a Cougar.

God, I hate that analogy. But it is what it is. I'll hold on to thirty-nine as long as I can.

I'm Greer Walker and this is my story.

To see even more by M.R. Joseph stop by my Author Showcase right here.

~ M.R. Joseph ~
I'm a book nerd turned writer who loves the 'Happily Ever After' mixed with a bit of suspense, drama, and the occasional cliffhanger! My Kindle is glued to my hands most of the time, but I still love the look and feel of a paperback book. My love of books brought me on my writing journey. I began writing my first book in July 2012 and since that time I have created 2 series. The first series 'The Reunion Series' debuted in November 2012 and two books followed, those being stand alone novels. My new series 'The Shore Series' released in March 2014. The first book is entitled 'Giving In' and four books will follow in that series. When i'm not writing, you'll never see me in front of the T.V. Curled up with a good book id where you'll find me. I am huge Indie Author fan and supporter.
Connecting with Joseph is simple! 

Twitter @redkar_m