Release Day: Fall For Me by J.C. Emery

Melanie Kincaid is a trust-fund baby with a knack for sassy comebacks and unnecessarily complicating her privileged life. So, of course she would have to fall in love with a man she can't have.

Jameson Hayes is a NYC firefighter for Manhattan’s oldest ladder company with big shoes to fill and a city to protect. He’s strong, sexy, and not looking for the complications Melanie brings. But he can't stay away from her either. The attraction between them is immediate and the pull between
them is crazy powerful. But she's only home for the summer and long-distance relationships never work.

Unfortunately, Melanie’s beauty and smart mouth are a lethal combination and Jameson isn't the only Hayes who's interested. As if his brother isn't enough to compete with, now the city's most famous arsonist wants to claim her as his next prize. Jameson can't stand to watch Melanie get hurt and she can't seem to keep herself out of trouble.

Fall for Me is the first Ladder Company novel, a stand-alone companion series about New York's most elite firefighting family with hot alpha heroes, snarky heroines, and an arsonist hell-bent on destruction.

To be added when live

“Mom!” I move through the foyer and into the open great room— a large, open living/kitchen combo— where I leave my suitcase and kick off my flats before I hit the carpet. What the hell is she doing with gas? That stuff is toxic.

“Well?” Mom says, appearing at the edge of the hall on the other side of the kitchen. She has a hand towel around her neck and one of her many yoga-specific exercise outfits on. This one is a light blue and she’s barefoot. Monica Kincaid is dedicated to many things in life— her husband Christian, her daughters (the youngest, especially), and her charity projects— but yoga is the one out of all of it that I don’t understand. It puts her at peace, she says.

“Well?” I ask and drape the dress bag over the island counter top in the kitchen and move around to prop myself up on one of the bar stools. God, that gasoline smell is driving me mad.

“Are we planning a spring wedding yet or what?” Mom says with a grin. Her nose wrinkles, catching the scent of the gasoline, I’m sure. “Janet and I have been taking bets.”

“God, Mom,” I say and place my head in my hands.

“No really,” she says, “Tell me.”

“Nothing happened,” I say. Verbalizing it is even more disappointing than it probably should be. Apparently, Mom and Dad were also in on Jameson and Royal’s surprise trip. It took all of an hour after they landed for Janet Hayes to text me telling me she wishes she could have been there. It was sweet, but then she suggested she needed to leave me alone so I could spend as much time as possible with Jameson. And that we shouldn’t be disturbed. While the level of investment our mothers have in our has-yet-to-happen relationship is borderline creepy, the support is pretty awesome. It’s a rarity to find a woman as kind and loving as Janet Hayes is. Even if she doesn’t really know appropriate boundaries and likes to talk about when her sons were starting puberty… in all the gory details. I know more about Jameson’s solo activities when he was a kid more than I care to.

“You must be joking,” she says and heads to the fridge where she pulls out a single-serve cup of yogurt. “That man flew down to that god-awful place—,”

As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head and pursuing her bachelor's degree in English. JC is a San Francisco Bay Area native, but has also called both Texas and Louisiana
home. These days she rocks her flip flops year round in Northern California and can't imagine a climate more beautiful.

JC writes adult, new adult, and young adult fiction. She dabbles in many
different genres including science fiction, horror, chick lit, and murder
mysteries, yet she is most enthralled by supernatural stories-- and everything
has at least a splash of romance.

WEBSITE  TWITTER  FACEBOOK   AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE   GOODREADS

Blog Stop & Excerpt: Shadow Of Doubt by P.A. DePaul

The new SBG novel from the author of Exchange of Fire.

When her secretly filmed tryst shows up on the internet, Michelle Alger goes on the run. She has no choice. Not only was her one-night stand the son of a US senator, but he’s been murdered—and she’s the number one suspect. With both the senator and an avenging drug lord on her trail, her life is in danger. There’s only man she can trust. He saved her once, but will he still be her hero six years later?

Captain Jeremy Malone and the rest of Delta Squad have the senator’s order: find the mystery woman who killed my son. But to Jeremy, she’s no mystery. Six years ago his team of Green Berets rescued her from the torturous clutches of a Colombian cartel, and he’s never forgotten her. His personal and covert mission: find Michelle before anyone else. When he and Michelle do meet again, the sparks are explosive and consuming. They’re also dangerous as hell.

Because with each new bit of evidence, Jeremy suspects that Michelle’s innocence may be a ruse—a beautiful trap set by a woman who has even more secrets yet to bare.

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FOR SHADOW OF DOUBT

Michelle paced the length of the room for the thousandth time. There were exactly eighteen steps from the bathroom door to the sad excuse of a table. Not the biggest rooms here at the OTE.
A long moan drifted through the left wall followed by a slam, then rhythmic banging.
“Oh, God. Yes,” a woman cried. “Give it to me, daddy.”
Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. The cheap picture over the bed rattled with “daddy’s” frantic pace.
Michelle rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Really?” she asked the stained tiles. As if her situation wasn’t bad enough, she now had to listen to a bad porno.
She glanced at the clock. 5:22 p.m.
Her fingertips felt cold. She went to rub her hands together only to find her palms had a thin layer of sweat. How messed up was that? Darn nerves.
For years she had fantasized about this moment. So many versions ranging from innocent to completely far-fetched had captivated her dreams. Only Fate would deliver the version where she was holed up in a seedy motel with Big Daddy providing the sleazy soundtrack.
“Yes! Right there! Harder!”
She tuned out the “Oh-Gods,” and the “That’s-the-spots” and replayed her favorite fantasy. The one where Captain Jeremy Malone sought her out only to find out she had been given a new identity and placed in Witness Protection. Devastated by the government’s unwillingness to tell him where she had been relocated, he made it his personal mission to find her. Though it took years, he finally discovered she became a park ranger in Indianapolis. He immediately requested leave from the military and showed up at her apartment door.
She laughed at her foolish daydreams. Even if the man had hunted her down, then what? Her track record since Colombia had been Michelle, zero; Disaster, every time.
The looks of disgust on her partners’ faces when they saw her body usually killed whatever passion she had been able to muster through the fear and memories. Only one man had seen beyond carnage and made her feel as if it would be okay.
A hoarse shout bled through the thin wall followed by a lot of groaning. Hopefully that signaled the end of “daddy’s” session.
Had she done the right thing calling Cappy? How long had he been in Indianapolis? God, had she been this close to him all this time? What if he’s seen the news? Would he call the police, FBI, Army to tip them off? She started to panic. Oh no. What had she done?
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Michelle jumped at the sound on her door. The blood drained from her face and her heart pounded against her ribcage. No way in this short span of time could it be another drunk with the wrong room. Which meant . . . He’s here. All her insecurities rushed through her brain as she stared at the door. Everything from her thunder-thighs to her lack of makeup and hungover status swamped her.
“Michelle?” a muffled, deep male voice called on the other side. She’d know that intonation anywhere. It slid over her, tightening the knot in her stomach. She rubbed the dancing area and snagged on a button. Jerking her head down, she started cussing. She still had on the ugliest uniform ever. Not one ounce of sexiness could be wrung from the drab olive and gray clothing.
Sweat pooled under her arms, not helping her confidence and—
Wait, what was that? She squinted and dabbed a spot on her shirt. Great. She had on the most god-awful stained uniform ever.
This was so far from her fantasy she could only hang her head. About par for the last twenty-four hours.
Knock. Knock.
“Michelle,” Captain Jeremy Malone said again. “It’s safe to open the door.”
No one shouted “POLICE” or “FBI.” That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Didn’t they have to identify themselves first before entering? That meant he was alone, right?
She threw her shoulders back and strode across the room. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and opened the thin wood.
Holy Cheesus on wheat toast.
How could she not recall how HUGE he was? And that was saying something, since she was considered tall. But he had to be at least a half a foot over her head. Not only tall, but ripped with muscles . . . Like no-way-could-this-exist-in-real-life muscles sprouted beneath a tight T-shirt. Since he had worn a helmet the last time they met, she had never gotten to see he had dark brown hair, buzzed in a military crew-cut. His stance was all business; exuding strength and power and don’t-mess-with-me-cause-I-know-eighty-ways-to-kill-you. But one feature commanded her attention—the same one haunting her for years. His eyes. Those wonderfully expressive deep coffee-colored eyes.
“Cappy.” She shuddered. After so many years of longing, she was finally staring into their depths . . . and he was staring right back.

** BOOKS FROM THE SBG NOVEL SERIES **

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P.A. DePaul is a multi-genre romance author including paranormal fantasy and romantic suspense. She originally hails from Carroll County and Baltimore County, Maryland, but also lived in Macon and Warner Robins, Georgia. She currently resides in a beautiful community just outside Philadelphia.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest

New Book Spotlight: Heart's Desire by T.J. Kline

Heart’s Desire 

Healing Harts # 1

By: T.J. Kline

Releasing April 28^th, 2015

Avon Impulse

Heart's Desire

Healing Harts Series

TJ KLINE’s brand new Healing Hart's series kicks off with HEART'S DESIRE

If you could have anything, do anything… what would it be?

Jessie Hart has a soft spot for healing the broken, especially horses and children, but her business is failing and bankruptcy is looming. The one man who can save Heart Fire Ranch is the last man she wants to take advice from - financial expert Nathan Kerrington - the same man who broke her heart eight years ago.

Nathan Kerrington has it all, except the one thing he’d wanted most - Jessie. Now that he’s finally freed himself from his corrupt family, he wants to make amends. When he’s called in to save Jessie’s ranch, he sees his chance to win her back - if only he can prove to her that she can trust him with her heart…

“What in the hell are you doing out here?” She felt the urge to cross her arms over her chest as she swam backward toward the shallow end of the pool until her feet could touch the bottom. How dare he come into her backyard uninvited? To violate her sanctuary?

“I just came out for a swim. It was quiet so I assumed everyone was already in bed.”

Nathan’s brows drooped as he moved toward her, the water only reaching his lower ribs. She didn’t remember him being so tall, or his presence being so imposing. Nathan had always been impressive but now he seemed larger than life. She wasn’t sure what it was about this man that set her so on edge. Or how he could make her stomach feel like it had suddenly broken out with a deadly case of butterflies at the same time. She realized she was still retreating and stopped, standing her ground and arching a brow in defiance.

“Well, some of us still had work to finish. I’m so sorry I couldn’t take the day off to entertain you.” She swam toward the stairs, dismissing him, but felt a hand gently circle her wrist.

The butterflies in her stomach took off, beating against her ribs, making it difficult for her to breath. How could his touch still do this to her? How dare he touch her? Her traitorous body had held onto the memories of Nathan without her permission.

It shouldn’t still bother her that he’d never called, but after the last night they’d spent together, she’d thought it meant something to him, that she’d meant something. But as it turned out, he’d done her a favor. He’d saved her the embarrassment of telling him she loved him, and he’d made it easy to despise him. It sure made him a convenient target for her ire now.

She shot him a scathing look over her shoulder, then down to his hand still holding her captive.

“Look, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, Jess. I’m just here to help you.”

“Yeah?” Jessie jerked her arm from his grasp. “I don’t remember asking for your help. I don’t need your help, and I don’t want it.”

“Wow, I remembered you being a pistol, Jessie, but it would have been nice if someone warned me that you’d taken bitchiness to a new level.”

“Excuse me?” She turned back to him slowly, appalled at his audacity and hoping for his sake she hadn’t heard him correctly.

“I just don’t understand this whole two-year-old, I’ll-do-it-myself thing.” He shrugged. “It’s obviously not working. I get that you hate me and you’re scared but—”

She walked toward him, moving through the water, until she stood toe-to-toe, looking up at him, her eyes barely reaching his shoulder. “I am not scared.”

Nathan noticed she didn’t correct his assumption about him. He let it slide and arched a brow, cocking his head to the side as a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You sure about that?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re running a dude ranch, alone I might add. One that normally takes several people to operate. You’ve got no clients booked now and none for the future. This place is sinking faster than the Titanic, and you’re not scared?” He scoffed, his green eyes looking down on her. “You should be scared because, if you’re not, I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you.”

Jessie took another step toward him and narrowed her eyes. “Did you miss the part where I didn’t ask for your—”

“I heard you. You don’t want my help,” he mimicked. “But, let’s face it; I’m your best option right now.”

She turned her back on him and climbed out of the pool. “You’re my only option or you wouldn’t be here. I doubt you can help anyway. If I remember right, you were pretty hopeless the last time you were here. You could barely mend a fence. What do you know about running a dude ranch?”

“Apparently, almost as much as you do.” She glared at him as she reached for her towel. “Jessie, you might know horses, but I know business. I can save this business, but only if you quit fighting me and cooperate.” Nathan shook his head and followed her out of the pool. “Look, I get that I hurt you. It was never my intention. But it was a long time ago.”

She laughed, but the sound was sad and bitter, even to her own ears. “Don’t flatter yourself, Nathan.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. Jessie’s mouth dried up as her eyes followed the water sliding down the planes of his face, the moonlight making shadows over his jawline. She forced herself not to not follow the path of the water any farther than his broad shoulders. She might tell herself that he wasn’t her type anymore, but she was treading into dangerous territory. There was no sense looking for temptation.

Nathan was walking, talking, raw sexual attraction, and she was sure he used it to bend women to his will often. Her body might not know the difference between the past and the present, but Jessie wasn’t about to let his sexy smile and hard muscles distract her focus again. She wasn’t the same innocent girl who had believed in fairy tales eight years ago. He’d taught her a lesson she wasn’t likely to forget.

“I’m sorry. I owe you that. After I left here, things got . . . complicated. I was wrong not to call.”

How long had she wanted to hear those words? She realized she’d been staring at the planes of his chest, highlighted by the moonlight. She flicked her eyes up to meet his, trying to get her brain operating again.

“I’m surprised you never told Justin.”

“Of course not! What should I tell him? That his best friend seduced me and then left without another word?” She moved to stand in front of him and poked a finger against the solid wall of his chest. “Besides, I didn’t see the point after you turned your back on him, too. I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to ever trust your lying ass again.”

“That wasn’t what happened.” His voice was husky, seductively mesmerizing as his fingers brushed over the back of her hand.

She could barely make out his face in the near darkness, but she could feel the gentle invitation in his touch. It transported her back in time. To a time when she was young and trusting and naïve. A time when she believed in love that could withstand any trial.

She tried to ignore the grief and the loneliness that washed over her. It made her wish Nathan would make the first move, that he would wrap his arms around her, allow her to bury her face against his chest and seek the comfort she longed for, if only for a moment. The isolation she’d felt for the past few months filled her and tears threatened, burning at the back of her eyes.

Damn it, she couldn’t cry in front of this man, or anyone else, just because she felt a little sad. She quickly pulled her hand away from his grasp. She didn’t need sympathy. She didn’t want it, especially from this man. She just wanted him to go away.

She could almost hear her father’s voice. Cowgirl up, Jess.

As if sensing the change in her demeanor, Nathan laughed quietly. “Don’t worry, Jessie, your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell anyone you aren’t always a hard ass.”

Jessie smiled sweetly before lifting her hands and giving him a quick shove backward.

Droplets of water splashed over her feet as he fell into the deep end of the pool.

Link to Follow Tour: Here

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T. J. Kline was raised competing in rodeos and rodeo queen competitions since the age of 14, She has thorough knowledge of the sport as well as the culture involved. She has had several articles about rodeo published in the past in small periodicals as well as a more recent how-to article for RevWriter. She is also an avid reader and book reviewer for both Tyndale and Multnomah.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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