Chapter Reveal – Touched by Mara White


Touched by Mara White
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 25, 2017


Does your sister let you touch her, Gemini?

-Barely, but, yes, more than anyone else. I remember even in preschool when the teacher would grab her hand, she’d stare at the spot where their skin connected as if it were an affront to her existence. Just stand there and glare like she wanted to hurt someone.

Junipera suffers from a rare phobia.

-Please, what does June not suffer from?

When did she start chasing storms?

-In third grade she started obsessing about the rain. Full blown? I’d say after hurricane Katrina she never looked back. And she didn’t just chase them, June became those wild storms.

Junipera and Gemini Jones, Irish twins born during the month of June, survive a childhood of neglect and poverty by looking out for one another. Destined for a group home, the girls are rescued by a rich aunt and uncle who move them from Northern Minnesota to Fairfield, Connecticut. One sister thrives while the other spins out of control. A violent assault leaves Gemini searching for clues, but what she finds might be questions that are better left unanswered.

Chapter 1

August 28th, 2005

June drove almost all night. The farthest south she’d ever been was Oklahoma, going after a tornado, and she’d flown past the Louisiana state line around four in the morning. She wasn’t exactly sure where she would stay since she’d heard on the radio that all of greater New Orleans had been placed under a mandatory evacuation order. Experience told her that there would be at least one hotel open downtown where reporters were holed up. She’d followed their lead before, pretending to be chasing the story and not the storm. They usually had the best intel and she would leech off of them if she could. The storm had been given a name when she turned into a hurricane—Katrina, they called her, and she’d become a category three when she hit land in Florida. But now she had free rein over warm open water. That meant her hunger would gain and when she touched Louisiana, she’d do it with a vengeance. She was expected to hit land around six in the morning, as a category five. June had never actually seen a five before, but she knew roofs, cars and trees would go flying through the air like paper dolls, sucked up into the vortex and spit out indiscriminately.

Traffic snaked away from the Gulf in impossibly long lines of chrome and glass, rubber tires packed full of momentum wishing they could go faster. June had the speed they wanted as hers was one of the very few cars racing in the opposite direction. She came down I-55, and when she hit the I-10 bypass, the seriousness of the evacuation became apparent. Anyone who could was getting the hell out of New Orleans.

Storm excitement felt very much like a hormone—tipsy, punch-drunk and out of control. June got high off the anticipation; she tuned out the radio and the long line of evacuees and listened to the storm. She spoke its language. June lowered the windows in the Beamer so she could feel the pressure in the air. Her blood surged in her body like the ocean tides do in response to its pull. Her extremities tingled; so did her nose. She could taste the storm on the tip of her tongue, like a spike, a live wire, a sharp blade laced with coppery blood. Katrina called to her and June’s thigh muscles quivered.

June laid into the gas. Sometimes municipal law enforcement would block incoming traffic as well. June knew how to pose as a news reporter, but she wasn’t the most convincing candidate. Stringy blonde baby hair, lithe body like a cattail reed, clothing that was two sizes too big for her. She looked more like a painter or a homeless person despite driving a BMW. But her passion was always convincing, and her hope was that if Katrina was as big as she promised to be, whoever was watching would be too distracted to waste precious energy on just one life when hundreds of thousands were at stake.

“You a chaser?” the man asked her. He was a plainclothes officer, or maybe a reporter? She couldn’t be sure. He was the third person to stop her since she’d made it into the abandoned city. Anyone left on the streets was in transit, looking for a way out. More than one person had flagged her down and asked for a ride to the Superdome.

“No, I report to the Weather Channel directly,” June snapped. She stuck her anemometer on top of her small rolling suitcase. “I’ve got a room at the Riverside Hilton,” she said. She’d parked Uncle Ben’s BMW in the closest parking garage, reserved the room with his Mastercard. The receptionist only asked her if she knew there was a city-wide mandatory evacuation in progress. June looked up at her as if she were insulted. She smacked a press card on the desk. It wasn’t hers and the receptionist didn’t check it.

The cop or reporter was sold with the card. He figured hustlers or chasers couldn’t afford digs like hers. She walked briskly past him and flashed him her key card. What was he going to do? Arrest her and take her to jail? They had bigger things to worry about. This city was about to get slammed and everyone who’d stayed knew their lives would be in danger.

There were maybe a hundred or so of them in the Hilton. June recognized all the chasers, and not just because she’d seen them at other storms. It was their wily nature, their eyes holding the spark instead of the dread that was written all over the faces of the real press in the crowd. Some were there for the historic record and others, like Junipera, were there for the fix.

The wind started to scream at around eleven that evening. June wrapped her camera and her meter tightly in Saran Wrap, then stuck them in Ziploc bags along with her paper and pens. She packed all of the tiny water bottles and soda, peanuts and pretzels from the mini fridge into her backpack. Rolled up her blue tarp, Swiss Army knife, extra pair of underwear, waterproof pants and windbreaker and stowed them alongside the food.

The rain lashed the windows and splashed against them in sheets as if her hotel window were the windshield and she was moving slowly through a vigorous carwash. June stepped outside onto the balcony around two in the morning; the rain seemed to have died down but the wind was picking up, the trees across the way bending and straining, at times leaning almost horizontally. Her anemometer picked up wind speeds over eighty miles per hour. It’s the eastern side of the hurricane that packs the power punch. When that came calling, the hotel would be bending like the trees.

The television in the room blared with the constant evacuation warnings. June watched the Doppler radar image on a loop, circling toward the city like a hanging jaw going from red to purple. Hungry, angry wind and water were coming. June filled the bath tub, reinforced the metal stopper with Saran Wrap, did the same to the sink. She plunked down on the bed, splayed her limbs wide and stared at the ceiling.

The demon bared its teeth, and the windsong progressed from scream to roar, drowning out the warnings on the television. The beast was in the room, she was everywhere, surrounding them. June flinched every time she heard glass pop and shatter.

The window shook with the ferocity of a King Kong tantrum. Junipera imagined the tall Hilton as a toy in a child’s diorama reproduction of the French Quarter. Her fingers dug in and she held tight to the edge of the mattress. The room went black and the television silent when the power failed. The roar got louder, filling up her ears to find a way inside her skull.

At six-thirty in the morning her windows finally burst; the shades flew into the room and danced a madcap jig, wrenching themselves from the sliding track. June watched, eyes wide, as the one on the left took flight, a flash of soaring white in the dark sky before it flew out of sight. She crawled along the carpeted floor that was now soaked in brackish water, rolled to her back and filmed the macabre sky. The center of the hurricane looked like the center of a starfish, opening and beckoning, then folding in on its own hungry embrace. If there were Gods they were angry, monsters immune to the rules of give and take. June’s ears popped with the pressure while debris flew over her head, sometimes inches from her face. Then the rain began to plop down again in enormous drops. She stuck her camera under her shirt.

No sun rose and daybreak came in without color. From white to grey to a drab blue, the subdued tones of pigeons colored the horizon. When the roar finally moved far enough west to quiet, her ears still buzzed with its scream as if it had taken up house in her head. June could hear the beating of propellers—Army, she assumed, and not meteorological. The sound of periodic gunfire she decided to tell herself was exploding transformers and not ruthless people taking advantage of a ghost city with only a weary skeleton crew to protect it. She washed her face and armpits in the water she’d saved in the sink. Brushed her teeth, spitting in the toilet. She drank from the bathwater as if it were a baptismal font. It tasted as warm as the humid air around her.

It was still a good storm raging outside but June figured she’d head to the command center and hang with the reporters, hear their assessment of the damage. Running her fingers through her tangled hair was the best she could do for appearances. Nobody would care. The room, which had probably been a continental breakfast concierge haven, was now buzzing with reporters using an antiquated form of dial-up to communicate with the greater world. With a crashed electrical grid, the means for direct communication were severed. Someone had made coffee from instant crystals and bathwater. June helped herself to two mugs full as she listened to their chatter and took notes. Analog reporting, they were relaying messages like it was 1984. June heard reports of levees breeched, ruptured, possible flooding, but no one seemed to know for certain. She left the command center and went back to her room, pulled on her waterproof pants and rain boots, and put a sweater on under her windbreaker even though the humidity was stifling. She walked out the door with nothing more than her equipment and tiny rations in a backpack.

“Which way is the ninth ward?” she asked the security guard standing by the sliding glass doors. He looked her up and down reproachfully and Junipera tried to stand even taller than her already generous five feet ten inches.

“To your left. It’s a long walk, and believe me, from what they’re saying you don’t want to go there. Head to the Convention Center instead.”

“Thanks,” June said. She stepped out into the dense fog and turned left.

“There’s still debris flying. Hurricane ain’t over yet!” the security guard shouted after her.

She disappeared from his view, swallowed up by the insatiable mouth that wasn’t yet finished feeding on New Orleans.

About Mara White

Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.

Connect with the author: Amazon / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads

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Cover Reveal – HEATHENS by Amanda Richardson


HEATHENS by Amanda Richardson
Series: Heathens Duet #1 – Standalone
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: September 14, 2017


Paris is home to runaways and lost souls, romantics and artists. A lover’s paradise. For Lilith Damewood, Paris is tainted, tarnished, corroded. Trying to claw her way out of her dark memories, she channels her vitriol into her photography.

Salem Tempest is a seminary student entrusted with the souls of Notre Dame de Paris—even the dark ones. When an unlikely friendship forms between the two of them, and a revelation shakes them both to their core, Lily and Salem find themselves connected in powerful and unexpected ways.

Lily risks his ruin—and her own.

After all, even holy men can fall. And salvation may be closer than they realize.

HEATHENS is a dark romance that connects five souls in a web of choice, sin, revenge, and redemption. It may be considered blasphemous to some. It is intended for mature readers.

HEATHENS is book 1 in the HEATHENS duet. BELIEVERS, book 2, will be releasing early 2018. Both books can be read as a standalone.


ENTER HERE for the chance to win ONE of FIVE ARCS of HEATHENS by Amanda Richardson!

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About Amanda Richardson

Amanda Richardson is an award-winning travel writer turned indie author living in Los Angeles with her husband and two cats. When she’s not writing or reading (which, let’s be honest, accounts for 95% of her free time), she can be found Googling cheap flights to places she’s never been, talking to her cats, or obsessing over the British Royal Family. Fun fact: her first novel is about the Tudors. One day maybe, after a lot of wine, she might find the courage within her to publish it!

Connect with the author: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Newsletter

Cover Reveal – Ruck Me by Rebecca Norinne

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Ruck Me by Rebecca Norinne
Series: Dublin Rugby #2
Genre: Contemporary Sports Romance
Release Date: August 9, 2017
PreOrder: Amazon / B&N / Kobo / iBooks / Google Play


She’s a free spirit; he’s a no nonsense kind of guy. When these opposites attract … oh baby! It’s game on!

I’ve called Aoife O’Shaughnessy a number of things, but dumb was never one of them. Through all the insane things she’s done—all the trouble she’s gotten into—I never once thought she was actually stupid.  Until now.  Because I just heard her plan to lose her virginity to the vilest human being I’ve ever met.

My first thought? How the f*ck is Aoife still a virgin? The second? Over my dead body. 

So I volunteered for the job instead.

It might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but once the words were out of my mouth, I couldn’t take them back. Now, I can’t stop wondering what it will be like to kiss the pink-haired sprite I’ve known my whole life, to hear her moan my name when she comes.

And I know she’s wondering about me too.

What started as a bit of fun has spiralled out of control and now I’m in deep. I never meant to fall in love with Aoife … it was never supposed to go this far. And what happens next, just might break both of us.

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About Rebecca Norinne

USA TODAY bestselling author Rebecca Norinne writes contemporary romance featuring smart and sexy heroines and the men who adore them. When not writing, Rebecca is watching rugby, drinking craft beer, or traveling the globe in search of inspiration for her next story. Her favorite foods are popcorn, sushi, and French fries and she’s never met a Kelly Clarkson song she didn’t like. 

Connect with the author: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads

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Cover Reveal – For Forester by J. Nathan

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For Forester by J. Nathan
Series: For You #2 – Standalone
Genre: New Adult, Sports Romance
Release Date: July 19, 2017
Pre-Order: Amazon / B&N / Kobo / iBooks



I’m Alabama’s star wide receiver. I’ve got mad skills on and off the field, and it’s no secret I’m heading into the draft after the upcoming season. But I’m home for the summer to make some cash before my senior year. Being back under my parents’ roof isn’t the ideal situation, but the moment I see Marin, the star of my adolescent fantasies, I know it’s about to get interesting. She may not have noticed me back then, but I’ve got a feeling it’s just a matter of time before she lets me turn those fantasies into reality.


The last time I saw Trace Forester he was just a kid tearing up the neighborhood on his skateboard. That was when I was foolish enough to think I had the perfect husband and the perfect life. But now my life is in shambles and Trace is back, all grown up, hot as hell, and exuding major confidence. It would be so easy to fall for his good looks and undeniable charm. So easy to let him into my life. Too bad I learned the hard way that nothing worth having ever comes easy.

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“You sleep with him yet?” Gayle asked.

“Oh my god. What is wrong with you?”

“Me? Have you seen the guy?”

Outside, Trace tossed the football gently so CJ had a slight chance of actually catching it. He didn’t. It bounced off the grass in front of him, but he ran after it, laughing as he did. “Yes, I’ve seen the teenager in my backyard.”

“He’s not a teenager.”

“Yes, he is. I looked it up. He’s nineteen.”

There was a pause on her end, like she just realized I was a sicko who’d actually looked him up. “Who cares? You’re single and he’s hot. Have you seen him in his uniform? The guy could be a freakin’ underwear model.”

I laughed as I turned from the window and moved into the living room. “No. At least not in person.” I’d seen pictures on the internet.

“Girl. When are you ever gonna have a hot piece of ass under your roof again?” Gayle asked.

I scoffed. “You’re acting like he sees me as anything other than a soon-to-be-divorced woman with a kid who needs a guy around.”

“Marin, you’re beautiful and fun. You deserve to get some action.”

“You do realize you’re encouraging me to jump his bones, right?”

“I never said jump his bones. Just wear something tight. Bend over and let him see your hot ass. You’d barely have to do anything.”

“You’re insane.” I laughed. “And I could go to jail.”

“Why could you go to jail?” Trace asked from behind me.

I spun around, my eyes bugging out of my head and my heart drumming in my chest. Trace stood in the doorway smirking at me, like he’d heard my conversation.

Had he?


ENTER HERE for the chance to win a $25 gift card + eARC of For Forester!

About J. Nathan

J. Nathan is the author of five new adult and sport romances with cocky heroes and sassy heroines. When she’s not writing, she’s a total romance junkie! Add an alpha male who’s unlikable in the beginning…even better. She loves watermelon margaritas, guys in backward hats, country music-especially Luke Bryan, and hanging with her family and friends in RI where she lives with her husband and son.

Connect with the author: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads

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Cover Reveal – Dirty Talker (Single Dads Club #2) by Piper Rayne


Dirty Talker by Piper Rayne
Series: Single Dads Club #2
Genre: Sexy Romantic Comedy
Release Date: June 12, 2017



Party girls.
Platinum blondes.
Zero expectations.

I used to think that if you could combine all three into one female, you’d have the perfect woman. The other guys in the Single Dads Club razz me for wearing the crown of the forever bachelor. The one who’ll be in his seventies chasing down young hotties in his wheelchair.

Then why the hell does Ava Pearson—an outdoorsy girl, a brunette, and a woman who screams stability and responsibility—seem to be the only woman on my mind lately?

Especially when I’ve got enough obligations without adding any complications to the mix—my son, my bar…well, that’s about it. But that’s enough for a guy like me.

It’s the cupcakes. It’s gotta be the cupcakes she bakes that keep me coming back for more. After all, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right? Well, it’s apparently a direct target to his dick, too.

Did I forget to mention that she’s my buddy’s daughter…another member’s daughter?

Ava might say she can handle being friends-with-benefits, but I’m not sure she can. Unfortunately for her, I’m too selfish of a prick to care—until I do.

Lust. Passionate couple on the cooking table


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About Piper Rayne

Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two established authors for the price of one. You might be wondering if you know us? Maybe you’ll read our books and figure it out. Maybe you won’t. Does it really matter?

We aren’t trying to stamp ourselves with a top-secret label. We wanted to write without apology. We wanted to not be pigeon holed into a specific outline. We wanted to give readers a story without them assuming how the story will flow. Everyone has their favorite authors, right? And when you pick up their books, you expect something from them. Whether it’s an alpha male, heavy angst, a happily ever after, there’s something you are absolutely certain the book will contain. Heck, we’re readers, too, we get it.

What can we tell you about ourselves? We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We’re both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We’re both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.

Connect with the author: Website / Facebook / FB GroupTwitter / Goodreads

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Cover Reveal – The Weight of Life by Whitney Barbetti


The Weight of Life by Whitney Barbetti
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 28, 2017


“Don’t let go.” Those were my first words to him, as I hung over the side of a London bridge. The words I would soon say again, in a moment that didn’t involve bridges, but something much more fragile: my heart.

He held onto me for three weeks, in a time when I needed to be held. Needed to connect to someone who understood how loss tunneled unrepentantly through the fabric of your soul.

Although he said he’d stay, we both knew he wouldn’t. I had already survived one loss—I didn’t know if I’d survive another.


She spun into my life like a tornado of smiles and chatter and everything else I’d long avoided, with a persistence that I admired, albeit begrudgingly. She broke down each neat wall I’d constructed without even trying. Her presence alone caused me to remember what it felt like to smile, to look forward to what the day would bring.

But it was only supposed to last three weeks.

“Don’t let go,” she’d pleaded.

I’d promised her I wouldn’t—but I would. I didn’t have a choice.



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About Whitney Barbetti

I  like nachos and champagne and clean sheets. I spend far too much time at Starbucks. I wrote a couple books

Connect with the author: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Newsletter

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Cover Reveal – Junk by Komal Kant


Junk by Komal Kant
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 27, 2017


At twenty-five, I met both my mortal enemy and my one true love.

The problem? They ended up being the same person.

My first encounter with Wade Welsecky and his swoon-inducing, chiseled torso was a disaster of epic proportions. After giving him an accidental strip show in a coffee shop and him stealing my Gucci blouse, I became determined to run that cocky jerk over.

That was the thing about Wade—even though he pushed all my buttons, I so badly wanted him to undo them too.

Our second encounter was even worse. This time, I really did try to run him over…

…but ended up running right into a tree.

Now I’m stuck in Middle-of-Nowhere, Wisconsin with only one person in town who can help with my car troubles. That’s right. My mortal enemy, Wade Welsecky.

But with Wade as swelteringly hot as the Midwest summer, getting tangled in his sheets is quickly becoming a temptation too hard to resist. And I have a feeling I’m about to uncover a side of him that is so much more than just the sexy junk yard owner—a side the rest of the world seemingly already knows.

If I don’t run him over first…

About Komal Kant

Komal Kant is the international bestselling author of BENEATH HIM who writes Contemporary Romance and Paranormal novels. She likes to write about sarcastic females and swoon-worthy guys who end up falling in love under unusual circumstances.

Born in Fiji, Komal grew up in Sydney, before finally settling down in the U.S. with her husband, and their tough-guy Shih Tzu and lapdog American Bully.

Connect with the author: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads