Title: Break of Dawn
Author: Anne Conley
Genre: Crime, Suspense, Romance
Release Date: March 26, 2019

#crime #romance #suspense #hurricane #Stormyreads #bookoftheday #currentread #bookworm #99pennies #booksale #kindledeals #action #adventure

This one was inspired by Hurricane Harvey, and is dedicated to all the first responders who dropped everything–jobs, family-life, missed vacations–and drove to Houston with a flat-bottom boat, and cases of water to get the people out of rising flood waters.

One woman in hiding. A man desperate to escape his future. A union that can’t ever happen.

A bad girl meets a good guy who is just trying to do the right thing.

Dawn takes jobs—the jobs people need done, but don’t want to get their hands dirty with—because she’s good. But this job may be her last. She not sure if she’ll survive it.

Jackson is reluctant to fit into his father’s mold. The Mayor’s son, he’s ready to live his life on his own terms, but it seems his life is already laid out for him.

When he rescues her from a “job” in the middle of a hurricane wracking their fair city, the two paths collide.

And the consequences could be dire.

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Excerpt:

Her first thought was of his proposition. She couldn’t imagine what he would want, except sex. She wasn’t immune to his charms in that regard, but Dawn repeated her earlier thoughts to herself. He wouldn’t want just sex. He looked like the sort to dissect things, talk about feelings, put labels on what they were and shit. She wasn’t the sort who did that type of thing. Not anymore.

Her second thought was all about the creature comforts. She hadn’t brushed her teeth, needed a shower, and if she ever wore this fucking body suit again, it would be too soon. Dawn needed clean underwear in the worst way, and her bed screamed at her from where it sat across town.

And she wanted to look at the laptop that had Twitch so fired up.

She sighed, and Jackson’s gaze snapped to hers. “You said you lived by Freed Park?”

She nodded, just now starting her pancakes. The buttery, syrupy batter melted on her tongue, and she let out a small moan. Jackson stared at her with a stark heat in his eyes that had her swallowing hard.

“It’s all underwater over there. Like, a ton of water.”

She ate another bite, shoveling it down because it tasted amazing. She honestly wasn’t hungry but didn’t know when she would get another chance to eat a meal cooked this well. Breakfast might be all the people got. She could be relegated to granola bars, or worse, the rest of the day.

She was smart enough to know not to turn down perfectly good food.

So Dawn ignored him and cleaned her plate, letting out a soft belch when she was finished before pushing the plate away. Jackson picked it up and threw it in the trash in the corner before coming back to sit in the seat next to her. The air thickened between them, and he tugged her chair closer to him, placing her between his knees. He leaned down so they shared the same air. It was totally unnecessary in the largish space of the room that only held the two of them, but she allowed it.

Reveled in it, actually.

She could see his greenish-gray eyes in the light of the morning. At night, they had glittered in the darkness, but she hadn’t been able to tell what color they were.

Dawn was hopelessly lost in them. His sandy-blond hair was cut short on the sides, still standing up on the top of his head, but it had been tamed a bit since last night. And his breath smelled slightly minty.

Son of a bitch had found a toothbrush.

“I think I can use you,” he said, breaking the pregnant silence with words that held a double entendre she couldn’t not laugh at. He blushed, and it was cuter than she cared to admit. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Okay. I do need you, but not the way that came out.”

She sighed, angry at her curiosity for rearing its head. She just knew she was going to get in too deep with this guy. Dawn could feel it in her gut.

 

About the Author:

Anne has written her entire life and has the boxes of angst-filled journals and poetry to prove it. She’s been writing for public consumption for the past several years. She lives in rural East Texas with her husband and children in her own private oasis, where she prides herself in her complete lack of social skills, choosing instead to live with the people inside her head.

Currently, she has five romance series; Playing with Fire explores the trials and tribulations of a small team of fire fighters in the fictional mountain town of Pamona Gulch. In Pierce Securities, she gives us Ryan, Evan, Miriam, Zack, Quinten, Jordan, Hollerman, and Simon. Her favorite series, Book B!tches, is all about a group of women in Mystic, Texas who get into all sorts of shenanigans. In Stories of Serendipity, she explores real people living real lives in small town Texas in a contemporary romance setting. In The Four Winds, she chronicles God’s four closest archangels, Uriel, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael, falling in love and becoming human.

PREORDER BLITZ
Title: Bad Boy Blues
Author: Saffron A. Kent
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance
Release Date: April 11, 2019

BLURB

Cleopatra Paige hates one thing in this world — just one — and his name is Zachariah Prince.

In grade school, he pulled at her pigtails. In middle school, he spread false rumors about her. And in high school, he ruined her prom.

She hates that his smirks are unfairly sexy. And she definitely loathes that his dark eyes seem to follow her everywhere. Sometimes, even in her dreams.

It doesn’t matter that he’s rich and popular or that he lives in a freaking mansion full of butlers and maids. He’s rude and arrogant, and she wants to stay as far away from him as possible.

But unfortunately for Cleo, she lives in the same freaking mansion as Zach.

Only he’s the prince and she’s the lowly maid who serves him.

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42966333-bad-boy-blues
PREORDER LINKS – 99c for preorder ONLY!!

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Read the first two chapters of Bad Boy Blues: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/p4bqnhk15j
PLAYLIST

AUTHOR BIO

Saffron A. Kent is a Top 100 Amazon Bestselling author of Contemporary and New Adult romance. More often than not, her love stories are edgy, forbidden and passionate. Her work has been featured in Huffington Post, New York Daily News and USA Today’s Happy Ever After.
She lives in New York City with her nerdy and supportive husband, and a million and one books.

 

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No Perfect Hero Excerpt

(Haley)

The worst part is, Warren isn’t even trying to deliver these torrid, ridiculous feels.
He’s just too intense. It radiates from him in this aura, this energy field of crackling lightning.
Stand too close, and he’ll catch you up in it and consume you.
As he stares down at me, something in his expression changes. Something tense, something hot, and then I can feel it in the charge pulsing through me, starting in my lips and centering lower. I feel it in every tiny hint of space vanishing between us as he leans closer.
Only for the sound of a stomping foot to cut us off as Tara shrieks from the open back door of our duplex.
“You leave her alone!” she shouts, rocketing out, all pint-sized fury, her little fists clenched and beating ineffectively against Warren’s thigh. “Don’t you hurt my auntie!”
That’s our cue to break apart, end whatever weird, layered thing keeps almost happening but doesn’t.
Warren holds both hands up, breathing shallowly, looking down at Tara with wide blue eyes. “Whoa. Hey. Hey, now. Slow down, kitten. I wasn’t hurting nobody.”
Tara glares at him, shoulders scrunched up, her face twisted in a mask of protective ferocity. I’d hug her if I wasn’t so shaken, trembling, pressing my hands over my face and trying to calm the racing of my heart.
“Liar!” she accuses. “She’s gonna cry.”
I shake my head quickly, dropping my hands and forcing a smile. “No tears here, Tara. I’m okay. Just a little startled. Warren surprised me, that’s all.”
Warren stares between us, hands still held up like he’s facing down the cops.
“For the record, munchkin…” He licks his lips, then says, “I wasn’t gonna hurt your aunt. I was gonna kiss her.”
What?! I’m physically rocked back by his words.
He slowly lowers his arms, and darts me an uncertain glance before looking back at Tara, offering a reassuring smile. “I just wanted to hold her because I wanted to kiss her.”
Instead of slowing down, my heart nearly does a full somersault. I stare at him, my mouth dry.
He’s joking, right? Just trying to calm Tara down and explain without frightening her?
But after that charged moment where our eyes locked, Warren leaning closer…
I’m not sure of anything.
And I’m not sure what I would’ve actually done, if that domineering, stubborn jackass had kissed me.
Tara frowns, tilting her head, her scowl easing as she looks at Warren, puzzled. “You…you like Auntie Hay?”
Warren grins, easy and warm. “Yeah.”
“Like…boy-girl like?” she whispers.
“Like boy-girl like.”
“Oh,” Tara says, before her face lights up and she blushes, giggling and covering her mouth. “Ohhh. Wow.”
Nope.
Oh, God.
I have to end this.
It’s bad enough that I’m sitting here, wondering how much hot blood can flow into my cheeks before I either pass out or burst into flames.
It keeps getting better.
Now my ten-year-old niece thinks the dick next door has a crush on me. Stifling my groan, I run my fingers through my hair, glancing back at the horizon and the beautiful sunset I’m missing, when I’d wanted to at least capture the general feel of the color palette on canvas.
“Go back inside so Warren and I can talk, kit,” I say, managing a smile for Tara. “I’ll be in soon to make dinner.”
Tara bites her lip, bouncing on her heels. I just know I’m going to have to field a thousand questions over dinner about whether I like Warren and if we’re going to kiss and be boyfriend-girlfriend.
No. No way. Abso-freaking-lutely not.
Damn that munchkin for even putting the thought in my head.
But she smiles too brightly to stay mad at, tumbles over, and tackles me with a quick hug, before pulling back and, with another little giggle, darting inside.
She’s humming under her breath. It’s thirty seconds before I recognize the tune. It’s Haley and Warren, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
Meanwhile, Warren just stares, scratching at his neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world to have my kid niece thinking we’re a thing. And to have him standing here, as beast-like as ever, a storm in his eyes hinting at a conversation that might be the last thing on earth either of us need.
Somebody, please.