Author Name: Linda Kage
Series Name: The Forbidden Men, Book Three
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance
Release Date: August 25
Publisher (or Self): Self
Word Count: 122,000 words
Blurb:
Once upon a time, there was this pampered rich girl who was kind of full of herself. She really only cared about appearances and hiding all her dark, ugly secrets under the guise of an opinionated snob. But then Eva Mercer got pregnant, shot by a psycho, and kicked out of the only home she knew. Now she’s broke, unemployed, and has to start anew with a newborn to raise. But how?
On the other side of town, sexy, tattooed orphan, Patrick Ryan, can’t get a break. He’s out on parole for defending the last damsel in distress while trying to help her support her child, but all he wants is to find his one true love. He knows this woman by scent, smile, and laugh, but he’s never actually met her. He doesn’t even know her name. He just knows she’s the key to fixing everything.
One kind of hero can save you from physical harm. Another can rescue you from a different kind of doom. To reach their dreams, Eva and Pick can save each other. But first, they must open their hearts and learn how to trust.
I grew up on a dairy farm in the Midwest as the youngest of eight children. Now I live in Kansas with my husband, daughter, and our nine cuckoo clocks. My life's been blessed with lots of people to learn from and love. Writing's always been a major part my world, and I'm so happy to finally share some of my stories with other romance lovers.
“Does she need a blanket?” I asked when her tiny frame shuddered in her sleep as if she was shivering. “She looks cold.”
The nurse’s lips pinched with irritation. “She’s fine. But you really need to get back to your own room. They said you just got off dialysis yesterday. You don’t want to overdo it.”
I nodded as if agreeing, but answered, “Just a little bit longer.”
With a grumble, she spun away and stalked off. When I heard the phrase, “...typical single teen mother. Thinks she knows everything...” I turned and stared after her, watching the extra twenty pounds of weight on her waistline shift back and forth as she marched off in an angry huff.
I don’t know why I let her comment get to me. Maybe it was still pregnancy hormones swimming through my veins, the start of some baby blues, or normal insecurity issues of a typical new nineteen-year-old mom. But tears immediately filled my eyes. I turned back to my child, small and helpless, fighting for her life, and the floodgate opened even more.
What the hell did I think I was
I’d gone into this with my usual fake confidence, thinking sure I could raise a kid. Millions of women popped out babies every year. Why would I have a problem with it? And look, I’d almost gotten Skylar killed.
I sobbed even harder, my chest heaving. I had to pull my hand free of Skylar’s incubator and bury my face in both my palms to muffle the gut-wrenching sounds so I wouldn’t wake her.
She was here, like this, because I was unfit, because
“Hey,” a cheerful voice interrupted my pity party. “Well, looks who’s up and out of bed already.”
He sounded so relieved and happy. I turned to look up at Pick. He stood in the doorway with the biggest grin and a pink gift bag dangling from his hand. When he saw my face, his smile dropped flat.
“What’s wrong? Skylar?” He dropped the bag as he hurried to the incubator.
The worry on his face warmed my heart and helped calm my tears. “No, she’s okay. Getting better every day.”
A heavy sigh escaped him as he set his hand on the clear plastic separating him from my daughter. “Thank God.”
I blinked, still in awe over how worried he’d been. “How did you get back here?” They hadn’t even allowed Reese into the NICU. She still had to look at Skylar through the window in the hall.
“Being a flirt comes in handy sometimes.” He finally turned to me and winked. “The nurses love me.” His grin was brief though. His worry returned almost immediately as he reached down to pluck me out of the chair. “Now what’re all these tears about? You’re looking better, by the way. The yellow skin and swollen face scared the shit out of me.”
I didn’t realize he was going to sit me in his lap until he was already settling me into place. I felt even younger, and stupider than I had when I’d started my crying jag. A silly little girl needing to sit on a nice comforting lap to get over herself.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled, wiping the drops off my cheeks and feeling lame. “I’m just so...overwhelmed.” Along with scared, worried, lost, unsure—ugh! What happened to the cocky Eva Mercer I’d been a year ago? I’d take a nice, big dose of her right now.
Pick chuckled and kissed my forehead, stirring up a nest of butterflies in my stomach. Or maybe it was the staples in the c-section cut that created such a sensation, except I really couldn’t feel much in that area. Awesome drugs and all.
Unable to help myself I plunked my head onto his nice, wide comforting shoulder. I mean, he was offering it. I couldn’t resist. And it felt good, so amazingly good to let someone hold me for a minute.
Author Name : Ada Frost
Series Name (or Stand Alone) : Surviving Series , Book Two
Genre : Contemporary New Adult Romance
Release Date : August 25
Publisher (or Self) : Self
Word Count : 92,000 words
Blurb :
What do you do when you find out you’re pregnant, your boyfriend rejects you, your sister is beaten half to death and the most annoyingly gorgeous man takes up residence in your house? Well ladies, there is only one thing to do, pull up your big girl knickers and show the world your middle finger.
Louise Beaumont is renowned for her sharp wit, smart mouth and sassy personality. She comes out swinging in an argument, even when she’s wrong. But even some events in life can knock her on her arse. And fighting through the sludge of emotional pressure she’s had poured over her is taking its toll.
Johan Senior is broken. A man with a deeply traumatic past, shadows and monsters haunt his every waking hour. That is until a heavenly angel is sent in the form of a loud mouthed chestnut haired vixen, who threatens his manhood countless times. But his heart grabs onto her and refuses to let her go. The only problem is, his mind needs to allow him the pleasure of human touch, and to take that terrifying step of allowing someone into his heart.
Author Bio :
Hi! What to say about myself...I don't really have anything interesting to offer other than I love to read, and create stories for others to enjoy. I've always been told I have a vivid imagination, I just lacked the confidence to pursue putting it onto the the written page. But finally I embarked on making a single dream come true.
| Smashwords |
Author Bio :
Hi! What to say about myself...I don't really have anything interesting to offer other than I love to read, and create stories for others to enjoy. I've always been told I have a vivid imagination, I just lacked the confidence to pursue putting it onto the the written page. But finally I embarked on making a single dream come true.
I love to read, and write. I only read romance, any genre really, but it has to have a beautiful romance. I also demand a HEA, even if it takes two or three books to get there. Reality is too broken and jaded without having to live through the trauma and angst in a book for it to end unhappily.
I would love to connect with readers to hear their views on my work.
Excerpt :
I climbed into the shower and sat beside him. It felt a little stupid sitting on the floor of the shower with him but I didn’t know what else to do.
“Who are they, Johan?”
“In the big house, they’ll know we’re here. He said I had to stay quiet,” he whispered. He lifted his hand and pointed towards the door, then frowned staring at his hands. “I can’t get it off. It won’t come off. Look, I...it won’t come off,” he choked as he held his hands out in front of him. I couldn’t see anything on his hands; they were clean, completely pruned and wrinkly from the water.
“What’s on them?” I asked gently. I felt like I was talking to one of the kids in class.
“Her blood, it’s everywhere.” He sobbed. His hands shook as he twisted them wiping at imaginary blood.
“Sweetheart, nothing is there.” I put my hands around his, and he pulled away from me so fiercely he banged into the side of the wall. I flinched for him because that had to have hurt.
“Don’t touch me, I’m vile. You...I can’t spoil you,” he gasped, curling into the corner away from me. Tears mixed with the water on his face.
“Johan, you can’t spoil me. I’m going to clean you, okay? Together we will get you clean.” I shifted towards him slowly.
“I’ll spoil you. I make everything bad,” he said pleadingly. I paused, puzzled by the beautiful, broken man before me.
“No you won’t, I promise. Come here...please,” I begged. I held out my arms hoping he would come to me. The shower cubicle wasn’t large but the way he was pulling away from me, it was as if the Grand Canyon stood between us. I could see the indecision in his face before he moved into my arms. I wrapped myself around him, cradling him to me as he sobbed loudly. He gripped at my wet clothes, as if he wanted to be as close as humanly possible. I stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head, whispering loving words to try to soothe him. The water had warmed his skin, but he still shivered.
“Johan?” I whispered.
“Why do the people I love die? I have their blood on my hands, what did I do...to make them leave me?“
I would love to connect with readers to hear their views on my work.
Excerpt :
I climbed into the shower and sat beside him. It felt a little stupid sitting on the floor of the shower with him but I didn’t know what else to do.
“Who are they, Johan?”
“In the big house, they’ll know we’re here. He said I had to stay quiet,” he whispered. He lifted his hand and pointed towards the door, then frowned staring at his hands. “I can’t get it off. It won’t come off. Look, I...it won’t come off,” he choked as he held his hands out in front of him. I couldn’t see anything on his hands; they were clean, completely pruned and wrinkly from the water.
“What’s on them?” I asked gently. I felt like I was talking to one of the kids in class.
“Her blood, it’s everywhere.” He sobbed. His hands shook as he twisted them wiping at imaginary blood.
“Sweetheart, nothing is there.” I put my hands around his, and he pulled away from me so fiercely he banged into the side of the wall. I flinched for him because that had to have hurt.
“Don’t touch me, I’m vile. You...I can’t spoil you,” he gasped, curling into the corner away from me. Tears mixed with the water on his face.
“Johan, you can’t spoil me. I’m going to clean you, okay? Together we will get you clean.” I shifted towards him slowly.
“I’ll spoil you. I make everything bad,” he said pleadingly. I paused, puzzled by the beautiful, broken man before me.
“No you won’t, I promise. Come here...please,” I begged. I held out my arms hoping he would come to me. The shower cubicle wasn’t large but the way he was pulling away from me, it was as if the Grand Canyon stood between us. I could see the indecision in his face before he moved into my arms. I wrapped myself around him, cradling him to me as he sobbed loudly. He gripped at my wet clothes, as if he wanted to be as close as humanly possible. I stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head, whispering loving words to try to soothe him. The water had warmed his skin, but he still shivered.
“Johan?” I whispered.
“Why do the people I love die? I have their blood on my hands, what did I do...to make them leave me?“
YAY!! Thanks for being a host on our book blast! It looks great!
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