Release Tour – TBR Book Blog

Release Tour ~ Etched in Ink ~ by ~ Nadia Han

Kain Kessler created a life defined by control, ink, and the belief that love is a weakness he can’t afford. But when Eva Collins crashes into his life, his entire world is turned upside down, sparking a fierce devotion he never expected. When a brutal kidnapping drags Eva into Kain’s dangerous past, he realizes there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to keep her safe. Readers who crave high-stakes, he-falls-first, age-gap romances will fall head over heels for Etched in Ink, a steamy billionaire romantic suspense from Nadia Han.

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She is the flower soothing my soul, and I am the thorn protecting her.

With dark secrets etched in his soul and on his skin, Kain Kessler is a talented tattoo artist who does not believe in love. But that belief changes when he meets a beautiful woman who stuns him on the spot. He’s determined to make her his, even after she rejects him.

An eager and resourceful young florist, Eva Collins dreams of owning her own flower shop—and that’s all she wants. One serious heartbreak was enough for her . . . until a family member sets her up with an irresistible man who’s much older than her. When she’s kidnapped and tossed into the terrifying underbelly of a black market operation, she gathers every ounce of courage to survive.

Eva wants nothing more than to erase the cruelty Kain has suffered, and all he wants is to protect the woman he loves from the darkness that wants them both dead.

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Excerpt

Her POV

“You’re older than me by sixteen years. Don’t you want a woman closer to your age?”

“I go by feelings.” He lifted a shoulder. “Besides, being older means I have a lot to teach you.” A wicked smile stretched across his handsome face. “Is there anything you’d like to learn? To know?”

I want to know what it’s like to kiss you.

But I was too embarrassed to say that out loud, especially when my grandfather was just around the corner, probably eavesdropping.

As though Kain understood, he leaned in and whispered, “I’ve imagined doing so many things to you. Very inappropriate things that would have your grandfather kicking me out right now if he knew.” His warm breath caressed my skin, and tingles rushed through me. “Give me the chance to show you.”

Gathering myself, I touched his cheek. “Why are you still single?”

“Like I told your grandfather, I’m waiting for the right woman. I haven’t wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

His honesty warmed me, and I didn’t know what to say. Some people might not be concerned about the big age gap between us, but I was. Kain was an experienced man. Would he get bored talking to someone like me who hadn’t seen life as much as he had? Would he move on after one date?

Give him one date. You have nothing to lose.

Accompanying him at the event would allow me to get to know him.

Before I could reply, Grandpa walked into the room groaning. I knew from his facial expression that he’d been eavesdropping.

“My back is sore from all the cooking.” He stretched to the side. “I heard something about a banquet? In case you’re thinking about inviting me, I won’t be able to make it. I’ve got a bingo game going on with my friend Emilio. You kids go and have fun.”

“It’s not until next week, Grandpa.” Apparently, my grandfather had a friend who lived in my building but forgot to mention it.

“Oh.” He looked up at the ceiling, pretending he’d forgotten something. But I knew the wheels in his head were spinning fast. Looking back at me, he said, “Maybe you can take one of his self-defense lessons and come home to show me. You’re home all week.” He turned to Kain. “Do you have time to squeeze my granddaughter in?”

“I always have time for Eva.”

“I’ll give you my bingo winnings as a thank you.”

Oh my God.

“No need for that,” Kain said, probably suppressing a laugh. “Thank you for lunch.”

I looked at Kain, and an amused glance passed between us—Grandpa had just set me up on a date at the gym. My grandfather was such a troublemaker.

“Thank you for the cupcakes, Kain. I’ll be having one tonight.” Grandpa went back to the kitchen, leaving me alone with Kain again.

“I can’t believe this,” I muttered.

“I can.” Kain looked down the hallway. “He’s a smart man. He knows what’s best for his granddaughter.”

“Is that so?”

“Meet me at the gym tomorrow and you’ll find out.”

About Nadia Han

I write swoonworthy, sophisticated, and suspenseful romance for readers who love protective heroes, sassy heroines, and twisty plots. I live in New England with my husband and two creative children. My love for mysticism, astrology, astronomy, K-Dramas, C-Dramas, true crime TV shows, cats, and nature are sprinkled throughout my stories. When I’m not writing, I spend time with my family, create art, practice yoga, read, explore nature, and eat all kinds of foods.

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Release Tour ~ Between Sin and Ruin ~ by ~ SS Rayne

Title: Between Sin and Ruin

Duet: Ruinous Duet #1

Author: SS Rayne

Genre: Dark Romance; Psychological Romance

Tropes: Release Date: May 15, 2026

In the Dominion, marriage wasn’t about love.

It was about power, loyalty, and survival.

I knew that when I said my vows.

I learned how to be still.

How to be perfect.

How to stand beside a man like Alaric Kostas—heir to an empire built on blood—and never let him see where I could break.

And for a while, I didn’t.

Because Alaric didn’t destroy what belonged to him.

He protected it.

Controlled it.

Closed his hand around it until there was nowhere left to run.

I let him.

I let him build a world around me that looked like devotion and felt like ownership.

Until the night I saw something I was never meant to see.

That was the night the illusion died.

The night I stopped being his perfect wife, and remembered exactly what I was capable of becoming.

🚨 Author’s Note

This is a dark romance and explores themes of power, control, and betrayal, including one instance of infidelity.

This is a duet, and the central couple’s HEA unfolds in Book 2.

SS Rayne writes dark romance filled with betrayal, obsession, morally gray characters, and emotionally complicated love stories that refuse to mellow.

Inspired by psychological thrillers, crime dramas, and the beautifully disastrous side of human emotion, her books explore toxic devotion, dangerous power dynamics, feminine rage, and the thin line between love and ruin.

When she isn’t writing destructive fictional couples, she’s usually reading, spending time with her family, wrangling animals, and losing arguments with the morally questionable voices in her head demanding she writes their story.

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Release Tour ~ Fight It Until We Can’t ~ by ~ Cissy Mecca & Tina Gallagher

Operations Manager Carli Porter runs The Lochwell as if it were her own and is fiercely protective of the community she’s built within its walls. But when the building’s owner sends in his best friend to evaluate its future, Caril finds herself fighting to keep everything she loves from slipping away. Left with no other option, she’s forced to team up with Alexander Grassi, the very man who could decide the building’s fate. Readers who enjoy steamy, he-falls-first romances will devour Fight It Until We Can’t by Cissy Mecca & Tina Gallagher, a small-town, rivals-to-lovers romance.

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He’s a property analyst hired to find the cracks.

She’s the operations manager who will make sure he doesn’t.

Carli Porter runs The Lochwell like it’s hers. The coffee shop is her living room. Its book club members are her family. The residents are her friends. The pub is her Friday night. The only problem? The building belongs to someone else, and that someone just sent his best friend to decide its fate.

Alexander Grassi is smart and annoyingly hard to hate. He also has the kind of forearms that make it very difficult to stay mad at him. (She’s tried. It hasn’t worked.) He’s supposed to write a report, hand it over to his friend and leave. He wasn’t supposed to start showing up to trivia night. Or turning her coffee cup so the handle faces her. Or looking at her like she’s the best thing in a building full of things worth saving.

She says his report could ruin her life.

He says she’s not wrong.

She says that’s makes him the last person she should want around.

He says he’s staying anyway.

Because some legacies (and people) are worth fighting for.

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Excerpt

“Did you tell her?” Chris asked Vee as he emerged from the small kitchen at the back of the shop.

“Tell me what?” I asked. Vee slid two coffees toward Maria Grazia and me.

“Only that the hottest guy I’ve ever seen was asking for you earlier,” Chris said. “He wasn’t just hot. He was extraordinarily hot. Casual, buttoned-up, perfect hair, two days shadow with a smile that could melt polar ice-caps kind of hot”.

“I know the man looking for you. And can guess why he’s here,” Maria said. She set her cup down. That small, deliberate gesture told me more than her words had. “He’s a good man,” she added carefully. “His mother is one of my dearest friends. But good men can still be sent to do difficult things”.

Before I could figure that out, or even take another sip of coffee, he stepped into the coffee shop. At least, I assumed it was him. But since the Brew didn’t often see extraordinarily hot men with smiles that could melt polar ice-caps every day, I assumed that was probably him. His light blue buttoned-down shirt was open, no tie, but the casual tan sport coat still gave him a polished appearance. Honestly? Chris’s description was overall pretty spot-on.

He scanned the room, his gaze pausing when it reached us. He smiled at Maria Grazia and headed our way.

“I’m thinking this is Carli?” he asked her.

“You didn’t tell me you planned to meet with her, Xander”. Maria Grazia’s tone was sharper than usual.

“I don’t have an appointment,” he turned his attention to me. His eyes were hazel, in the best way possible. “And honestly didn’t think I’d actually find her. You get around.” Xander stuck his hand out. “Alexander Grassi”.

A firm handshake from someone accustomed to shaking hands. “Carlina Porter,” I responded, defaulting to my full name, as I did when I met someone new.

“I’m a property analyst,” he said.

Before I could fully register that, Maria Grazia added, “And one of Graeme Lochwell’s best friends”.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. Property analyst. Graeme Lochwell’s best friend. Both pieces landed separately, and then all at once, the way bad news always did. I looked at Xander. He wasn’t smiling anymore either. Whatever this morning had been before… Lou’s Instagram, AnnMarie’s bathtub, the abandoned coffee cup on some forgotten high top… it had just become the least of my problems.

About Cissy Mecca

A “recovering” 8th-grade teacher and curriculum consultant with a PhD in Language & Literacy, Cecelia loves writing high-heat, emotionally charged romance. The Brands (The Mecca Romance Multiverse): Cissy Mecca: Contemporary Romance, Cecelia Mecca: Medieval and Scottish Historical Romance. C.L. Mecca: Fantasy and Paranormal Romance. Mecca Romance Signature Style: Heroines: Bold, strong women who fall hard but never lose their identity. Heroes: High-heat, protective, and intense. Vibe: Visceral, sensory-rich escapes… from family-owned vineyards to the war-torn Anglo-Scottish borders. Other Info: Representation: Katie Reed (Katie Reed Literary) Personal: Married, two teens, Disney enthusiast, traveler, and wine lovers Authority: PhD background makes her an excellent guest for craft-focused podcasts or literacy-based panels.

About Tina Gallagher

Tina Gallagher grew up and continues to live in Northeast Pennsylvania. As a tween, she and her best friend would create happily ever afters for their favorite soap opera couples. Eventually, the soap operas lost their appeal, but the writing never did. Before living her dream as a full-time author, she worked a spectrum of jobs ranging from baking and cake decorating to marketing and project management. In between creating memorable characters, traveling, and taking pole dance lessons, Tina enjoys spending time with her two grown children and Golden Irish named Thea.

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Release Tour ~ Fake It Until It’s Real ~ by ~ Tina Gallagher & Cissy Mecca

Jess Harper finally has the fresh start she was looking for until she needs a fake date to survive her ex’s wedding weekend. Caleb Ward is the reliable, closed-off man who agrees to help, expecting nothing more than a favor. But when their pretend relationship starts to feel real, they’ll have to decide if they’re brave enough to risk everything for something neither of them believed they deserved. Readers who enjoy steamy fake dating romances will devour Fake It Until It’s Real by Tina Gallagher & Cissy Mecca, a small-town, forced proximity romance.

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She’s afraid she’s too much. He’s convinced he’ll never be enough.

Maplemoor is Jess Harper’s fresh start. A quiet place to rebuild after a future that never happened. Now she has a book club that feels like family, a coffee shop that knows her order, and a life that finally feels steady again.

What she doesn’t have is a date to her best friend’s wedding—the one where her ex and his brand-new fiancée will also be there.

Enter Caleb Ward. Dependable. Steady. The kind of man who shows up before you even have to ask—for everyone except himself. He’s got a life in Maplemoor that works for him, but when it comes to love, he keeps his walls firmly in place—and exactly where he wants them.

Agreeing to be Jess’s date to the wedding is just a favor. Nothing more.

Until it isn’t.

One weekend together. One very convincing performance.

Turns out the line between pretending and real is thinner than either of them thought. The hard part is knowing which side they’re on.

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Excerpt

When he kissed me, it felt deliberate.

Not rushed. Not distracted. Just…there.

Present.

His hands settled at my waist like he had nowhere else he needed to be, no next step he was trying to get to.

And that was new.

Because in my experience, kissing was usually a means to an end. Something you moved through on the way to something else.

But this?

This felt like the point.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t far.

His forehead rested lightly against mine, his breath warm against my lips.

For a second, neither of us moved.

My eyes stayed closed, like opening them would break whatever this was.

My heart was beating too fast—loud enough that I was sure he could hear it.

And maybe he could, because his thumb brushed slowly along my jaw, like he was paying attention to every tiny reaction.

Like he was cataloging it.

Like it mattered.

My eyes opened.

His gaze dropped to my mouth again, like he wasn’t quite done.

And then he kissed me again.

Softer this time.

Slower.

No urgency. No hesitation. Just intention.

My fingers curled lightly into the front of his shirt, not pulling him closer, just…holding on.

He didn’t rush.

Didn’t push.

He just stayed there with me, like this moment—this exact moment—was enough.

And that was what undid me.

Because I wasn’t used to that.

Wasn’t used to someone not trying to get somewhere else.

Wasn’t used to someone who seemed perfectly content to just be here.

With me.

When he finally pulled back, it was gradual, like he wasn’t entirely convinced he should.

His hands stayed at my waist.

Mine stayed where they were.

Neither of us stepped away.

There was something in his expression now that hadn’t been there before.

Not uncertainty.

Not surprise.

Just awareness.

Of me.

Of this.

Of whatever this had just shifted into.

And suddenly, it didn’t feel like pretending anymore.

About Tina Gallagher

About Cissy Mecca

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Release Tour ~ The Protection Agreement ~ by ~ A. Akinosho

A ruthless bodyguard sworn to protect a woman whose family is his sworn enemy finds his loyalty tested when forced proximity turns hatred into a dangerous attraction. As enemies close in and the line between desire and duty blurs, protecting her could mean betraying everything he’s ever known. Readers who enjoy forbidden, forced proximity romances with touch-her-and-die vibes will love The Protection Agreement by A. Akinosho, a steamy enemies-to-lovers, billionaire, bodyguard romance.

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When a threat puts her life in danger, there’s only one man capable of protecting her—a ruthless bodyguard with a fearsome reputation and loyalty carved into his bones. The problem? His family and hers are sworn enemies. And he learned to hate her last name long before he ever knew her.

This is duty.
A contract.
Nothing more.

Shared space. Constant protection.
No attachment. No temptation.

Forced proximity turns restraint into tension. Hatred softens. Awareness sharpens. Desire becomes impossible to ignore.
She’s a damsel in distress who refuses to be fragile. He’s a possessive protector bound by duty, fighting feelings he has no right to claim. Every glance is forbidden. Every moment together is a betrayal written in silence.

As enemies close in and pressure mounts, distance becomes impossible.

Because the longer he stands between her and danger, the harder it is to remember where duty ends—and desire begins.

He was sworn to keep her alive.
He just wasn’t prepared for what it would cost him.

Touch her… and die?

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Excerpt

Bruce

Lexi returns from her room and takes the seat next to me. I’ve concluded that we are fighting a losing battle. It’s just a matter of time before the attraction between us takes over and its fiery flame burns through us. We are quiet, our eyes are trained on the movie even as I’m provocatively attune to her presence, her allure is seeping into every nook and cranny of my being. It doesn’t take long before she leans into me. I don’t move out of her reach. She’s soft and warm in my arms and my whole being is responding to her closeness. I need to get her in bed. I move her head from my shoulder.

“Hmm,” she groans. “Kiss me, Bruce,” she whispers. I pause for a moment, convinced I didn’t hear her.

“What did you say?” I ask, betting she doesn’t realize what she asked of me.

“Kiss me, Bruce,” she says, her voice barely audible. “I want you to kiss me. I took my meds.“ A chuckle escapes her “Be aware that I may not remember in the morning, so make it good so I can dream of you.” She grins, though a bit out of it.

I want her to remember, and I shouldn’t grant her request, but I’ve been dying to kiss her, so who am I to deny her request especially when she wants to dream of me. I shift positions so she’s on her back and I kiss her lips gently and she opens her mouth to let me in. I kiss her with the fervor of a starved man that I am. Her tongue swirls sweetly with mine. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me closer and deeper to her. My tongue is seeking every inch of her mouth, my body is intensely aroused. A soft moan escapes her, it sends a charge through my body.

I can probably make love to her now and she wouldn’t stop me, but I also want her sober and consenting plus I want her to always remember us, every touch, every kiss and every thrust of me inside her. I slowly pull away. Breaking the sweet feel of our kiss.

Fuck, I just kissed Jonah’s girl and I fucking like it.

She smiles. “Goodnight, Bruce.”

She turns to her side and sleeps like she didn’t just break through every resistance shield of mine. I sigh because looking at her, I want more. I feel it in the blood thumping in my veins. My ragged breath that I fucking need to control. My hands running through my hair in exasperation of what I’ve just done. I know there’s no going back now.

Leaning down, I lift her in my arms. She giggles like a little girl. I should leave her in her room, but I’ve a need for her closeness, I can’t explain or control. I move slowly with her asleep in my arms and place her gently in my bed. She curls to her side and sleeps off. I sit on the bed for a moment watching her, “she can’t leave” the voice that slams in my head. Just as Declan’s words a while ago “when you kiss the one, you never want another” I feel the weight of what I’ve done. Kissed the one but she belongs to another man and not just any man. A man that hates my guts, paid me to keep her safe and sternly warned me not to touch her. I now know why, he made that request because he knows once I did.

He and I would be at war. Yet I find myself willing to go to war for her. Damn it

I move closer and kiss her temple, my palm gently touching her face. A giggle escapes her and I wonder if she’s dreaming of me. I cover her and get off the bed. I go into the bathroom to shower and relieve the monster awakening between my legs. I get temporary relief. Wrapping my towel around my waist. I peep to check on her. She’s knocked out. I put sleeping pants on and get in bed with her, pulling her into my arms and she doesn’t resist.

About A. Akinosho

A. Akinosho lives in her own little nest in Illinois. An avid reader and enjoy reading thrillers, suspense, and romance novels (partial to the romance genre). When she’s not reading or keeping up with life, she enjoys writing and creating twists to stories. She loves writing about diverse characters, friendship, and overcoming challenges through what is perceived as a weakness.

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Release Tour ~ Burning Vengeance ~ by ~ Tricia T. LaRochelle

Natalie Dugan thought starting a cleaning business would bring freedom, not danger. Between caring for her sick mother and juggling new clients, she has no time for romance—until she meets Aaron Marino, a scarred ex-firefighter who makes her question everything. When a series of suspicious fires spreads through their Virginia town, suspicion falls on every man around her, leaving Natalie to unravel a deadly mystery before vengeance consumes them all. Readers who enjoy high-stakes and forced proximity romances will devour Burning Vengeance by Tricia T. LaRochelle, a small-town, fireman romantic suspense.

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When Natalie Dugan trades spreadsheets for scrub brushes, she hopes her new cleaning business will give her independence—and the chance to care for her ailing mother. Love isn’t on her agenda, but everything changes when she meets Aaron Marino, a reclusive ex-firefighter scarred by the blaze that nearly claimed his life.

As a string of suspicious fires threatens their quaint Virginia town, every man in Natalie’s orbit becomes a suspect: her hard-working new boyfriend, her mother’s unfairly maligned partner, her unsettling neighbor, and even Aaron himself. But the closer Natalie gets to Aaron, the harder it is to ignore the spark that refuses to extinguish.

When the truth behind the fires finally ignites, Natalie will have to confront betrayal, vengeance, and danger that hits far too close to home. Survival—and love—depend on whether she can brave the flames of the past … before they consume her.

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Excerpt

Yaz and I were the new owners of cockapoos. Daisy was my baby, and Sadie was Yaz’s. We adopted the two sisters six months ago, when we had both decided to try our hand at pet parenting. And we were smitten. Our little spitfires kept us busy.

Embracing the doggy craze, I’d bought pj’s with images of dogs adorning them, tote bags, and throws of the same type of pattern, and of course, the scrubs. Hell, I even had stemless wine glasses with doggy prints etched into the glass—a gift from Mom last Christmas. She doted on Daisy more than I did.

“You the cleaning lady?”

Aaron’s voice brought me back to the moment.

I do have a name.

Other than his gaze lingering on my outfit for a millisecond longer than normal, Aaron never really looked at me as he spoke. He stayed focused on the area behind me, mostly. He also kept lightly scratching at his beard, like someone would do when they were either anxious or prone to such habits.

Handsome or not, I kept my mind on high alert as I watched for signs of crazy from this guy. One hand remained in my pocket, gripping my pepper spray.

“Yes, I’m Natalie. Natalie Dugan.” I reached my free hand out, and he shook it, quickly releasing his grip.

Here’s one with a sense of danger:

Daisy wandered the backyard by the fence bordering Alan’s property. I hated it when she did that, but it was late, and what difference did it make? As long as she did her business in a timely fashion, I was fine.

“Okay, go potty, Daisy.” Not sure why I had to ask her this. I hoped certain words and phrases would register. During the day, I had taught her to ring a potty-training bell that hung from both the front and back doors of the house. She and I were a work in progress.

I wrapped my jacket around my waist and wiggled my legs for warmth. “Hurry up, Daisy. Go potty, so we can get back to bed.”

While the little pup sniffed the ground along the fence line, I waited, my gaze wandering the surrounding area, especially the pitchy woods growing thick out back.

I loved the privacy, but couldn’t help but wonder what animals lurked. Especially on a night like this one, when the moon was hiding behind a dense layer of clouds, the darkness so thick, I could barely see my dog.

You forgot to turn on the outside light, genius. Oh, well, this won’t take long.

Movement cut through my thoughts, my senses on guard. If a raccoon or a fox came bounding over the fence, I was ready to grab Daisy and whisk her inside.

A shadow appeared on the other side of the fence. Alan? Oh, shit. What was he doing out here at this hour? My heart slammed against my ribcage, and I lost my breath. What was it about this dude? He’d been harmless so far. Rude, but otherwise benign. Maybe it was those gas cans? His uncanny resemblance to the man in that Netflix show? Or just a sixth sense?

“D-Daisy, w-we gotta go,” I whisper-yelled.

At this point, she was in full squat mode, doing her business.

The shadow moved closer as my body trembled and my lungs strained to accept any semblance of oxygen. I wanted to run, but I stood paralyzed.

The shadow lifted something large. A flick of a lighter followed. All at once, a dragon-sized ball of fire illuminated the night.

All went dark. Alan moved closer. The fire ignited again, and I could see flames escaping Alan’s mouth. It was like something out of a circus. The heat flushed my cheeks with its warmth.

Daisy, having finished, backed away from the fence and barked at the wild display.

In an instant, I could see Alan clearly, until the firebomb extinguished, and darkness returned.

Alan lifted the bottle and spat more flames. His head turned slightly, his gaze meeting mine.

Holy shit. What if he spat his flames over here?

About Tricia T. LaRochelle

Since she was a little girl, award-winning author Tricia T. LaRochelle has been obsessed with tragic love stories. No beach reads for her. Bring on the grit with a double side of turmoil. She likes to feel the character’s anguish as they fight to overcome obstacles to be together. Growing up in central Vermont, she has seen her share of tragedy but remains a hopeful romantic. She now lives in central Virginia, where she continues to foster the possibilities of how love can conquer all.

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Release Tour ~ When Stars Fall ~ by ~ W. Million

When I got my first big break, I was thrilled to be co-starring with Wyatt Burgess and thought I could handle life with him. But, when his best friend overdoses outside a nightclub, Wyatt spirals deeper into his addictions. After ten years of heartache, I’m content with the life I created and the last thing I expected was to see Wyatt on TV, telling the world his biggest regret is losing me. Readers who love second-chance romances will consume When Stars Fall by Wendy Million, a forced proximity, celebrity romance.

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He’s the most famous movie star in the world, and now he’s on my doorstep begging for a second chance.

When I got my first big break, I was thrilled to be co-starring with the Wyatt Burgess–former childhood star, charismatic, sexy as hell–and heavily dependent on drugs and alcohol.

I thought I could handle life with him, and I did for a while. But after his best friend overdosed outside a nightclub, he spiraled deeper into his addictions. Desperate, I gave him an ultimatum: the lifestyle or me.

After ten years of heartache, I’ve carved out a life that makes me feel stable and content. The last thing I expect is Wyatt Burgess on my television screen, telling the whole world his biggest regret is losing me.

Now he’s standing in front of me, forcing me to choose between the comfortable life I’ve created and the passionate whirlwind that allowing him back into my life could bring.

But I wasn’t one hundred percent honest when I left, and I fear he’ll never forgive me.

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Excerpt

Wyatt

Present Day

I’m sweating. Profusely. It’s disgusting. I tug at the collar of my freshly pressed shirt and loosen my tie. I’ll tighten it before I go on set.

Leaning forward on the couch, I grab my water from the coffee table. Bottles of alcohol line the bar to the right. A sign encourages everyone to help themselves. There is nothing worse than wanting a drink, being surrounded by alcohol, and not being able to have any. I need to be sober for this interview. Ellie will see it.

I grab some candy off the table and pop it into my mouth, chewing slowly. The greenroom is a weird shade of lime. Whenever I’m in a green waiting area, I’m always disappointed. We’re in a creative business—lime isn’t creative; it’s just hard on my eyes. Jackson Billows, the host of the late-night program, probably thinks the color is hilarious.

I wiggle my back along the too-stiff couch. Maybe I’ve been doing this whole scene too long. Few things in the entertainment business surprise me anymore. Of course, having this big a stage, a platform for my announcement, is helpful. Surprises may be few and far between for me personally, but I can still deliver a couple.

“You’re on in five, Mr. Burgess.” A dark-haired man pops his head into the room.

I nod. Say nothing. Check my phone again. The few people who understand my plan are reluctantly on board. A last-minute Break a leg text rolls in. I turn off my ringer, readjust my tie and collar. My suit jacket is stifling, but she used to like me suited and booted. Every advantage is necessary. I’m about to blow up her life.

For ten years, Ellie has been coordinating her projects and schedule to avoid me. We’ve developed an unspoken agreement to keep each other and Isaac, my best friend, out of the press. The weight of his death has remained ours to carry.

Jackson enters from the hidden side door. “You all right, buddy?” He perches on a chair across from me.

“Sweating like a pig.”

“It’s been ten years, man. This will be great television, don’t get me wrong, but Ellie is going to eat your nuts for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I picked you for a reason, Jack. Don’t let me down.” I drain the rest of my water and wish the liquid was something much stronger.

“We could have booked you both on the show. Left you here in the greenroom to sort out your issues in private.” Jackson stands.

“She’d have canceled. Whenever she’s gotten wind I’m in the area, her cavalry rides to the rescue. I even flew to Bermuda and not one person—not one,” I say, holding up a finger, “would tell me where she lived.”

“What makes you think she’s going to take any notice of you this time?” he asks.

“She’ll have no choice.” Certainty washes over me, and I point to my phone. “Finally got her address. I’m headed to the airport as soon as we’re done.”

“Ten years and you’re just going to show up on her doorstep? Do you need the public spectacle first?”

He has a point, but if I go without the spectacle, she’ll slam the door in my face. “I’m trying to make it impossible for her to say no.”

“I hope that doesn’t make it hard for her to say yes later.” Jack arches his eyebrows.

Truthfully, I haven’t thought that far in advance. All I’ve done is organize Operation Get Her to Talk to Me. The rest will fall into place. A long time ago, I was her kryptonite. God knows she’s always been mine.

The doors split as we walk toward the set. Jack heads to the stage and I stand in the wings, waiting to make my entrance.

By midnight tonight, she’ll realize I’m done with our unspoken truce.

I’m coming for you, Ellie.

Jackson gives his rambling introduction, then I strut onto the set. The crowd goes wild, and I drop into my seat. I adjust my jacket and wave to the audience as the screams die down.

Jackson’s right about one thing: Ellie will not take this well.

About Wendy Million

Wendy Million is an award-winning author whose contemporary romances about strong women and troubled men have captivated her loyal readers. She is the author of the contemporary second-chance romances, When Stars Fall and Miss Matched. Writing as W. Million, she is the author of the Bellerive Royals series, the Tucker Billionaires series, and the Little Falls series. When not writing, Wendy enjoys spending time in or around the water. She lives in Ontario, Canada with two beautiful daughters, two cute pooches, and one handsome husband (who is grateful she doesn’t need two of those).

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Release Tour ~ Retribution ~ by ~ Wendy Million

As an undercover FBI agent, Kimi is no stranger to life-threatening situations. So when her latest assignment leads to one of Boston’s biggest crime families, she’s confident she can handle the pressure. But as she becomes embroiled in the lives of Finn and Lorcan Donaghey, Kimi realizes she might not be able to separate her job from her heart so easily this time. Readers who enjoy romantic suspense and mafia romances will want to sink their teeth into Retribution by Wendy Million, an enemies-to-lovers, forced proximity romance.

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As an undercover FBI agent, Kimi is no stranger to life-threatening situations. When her newest assignment leads to the Donaghey brothers, one of Boston’s biggest crime families, Kimi is confident she can handle the pressure.

But as she becomes embroiled in the lives of Finn and Lorcan, she realizes she might not be able to separate her job as Kim from the heart of Kimi quite so easily this time.

On the cusp of a mob war, Kimi must decide who to believe and who to save. Sometimes doing the right thing means doing something very wrong.

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Excerpt

Get it together, Kim. Get your head in the game, Kimi. Deep breaths.

The door opens without a knock. Why didn’t I lock it?

“Kim?” Lorcan’s words have the lilting quality that warms my body.

With the wall for support, I try to rise, but my legs almost give out. He rushes to my side and wraps a strong, sturdy arm around my waist.

“What the hell?” He examines my face, confusion and annoyance warring in him.

“I’m not feeling well.”

Concern overtakes the other emotions, filling his hazel eyes, and his lips purse. “We’ll reschedule.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I just need a minute.” Easing away from him, I tug down my jacket and straighten my shirt. My hands are raw, red.

“Kim.” His voice is pitched low. “I’m not putting you in that room if you’re feeling rough.” The bright color of my hands catches his attention, and he snatches one to examine. “What’d you do?”

“The soap.” With my head, I gesture to the sink.

He watches me, curiosity tinged with anger dancing across his face. “Did my deartháir mor do something to you earlier?”

I tug my hand from his larger ones. “No, no. I’m fine. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me. It came on suddenly, but I’m fine now. I can do this. I’ll be fine.” Even as I say it, my hand shakes when I yank again on the bottom of my jacket.

“That room is full of men who could kill us. It’s not the time for false bravado. Could you shoot a gun right now?” His voice is an urgent whisper.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Under my lashes, I can’t meet his gaze.

He sighs. While he looks at me, his hands clench into fists and then relax over and over. “Come out when you’re feeling better, or I’ll have someone come get you when we’re done. You hear shots, you get the hell outta here. Exit out to your left. You understand me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I don’t glance up until the door clicks closed behind him. At the sink, I press my hands into the sides of the vanity and stare at myself. Any credibility I’ve built the last few weeks is being destroyed the longer I’m in here. My black eyes peer back at me in a face that appears sun-kissed. I yank my hair out of the ponytail and redo it, trying to blank out my mind.

Chad. My Chad in that photo.

When I focus on my hands, Chad’s sticky hair coats them, blood seeping between my fingers as I scream for help in a deserted street. My chest aches at the memory. With my eyes closed, I swallow, and my throat is scratchy. I pushed these memories down so far I didn’t think they’d ever resurface.

It’s been twenty years. Might as well be yesterday.

I will get answers. When he died, I was too young; I didn’t understand. Seeing his picture on the wall is like having a window pried open in a hot, stuffy room.

I’m not closing it again.

War might be inevitable.

If the O’Malleys killed Chad, I’ll be the one firing the first shot.

About Wendy Million

When not writing, Wendy enjoys spending time in or around the water. She lives in Ontario, Canada with two beautiful daughters, two cute pooches, and one handsome husband (who is grateful she doesn’t need two of those).

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Release Tour ~ Rose Moon ~ by ~ Heidi Adams

On the outside, Karter appears to have the perfect life, but no one knows about the debilitating episodes that invade his mind and body. The only place he’s ever felt at ease is at his grandfather’s house, where he meets the mysterious Ella. As Karter and Ella get to know one another, they find themselves connected on a deeper level that neither understands. Readers who enjoy forbidden romances will devour Rose Moon by Heidi Adams, a steamy paranormal romantasy.

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What secrets do we keep to protect the one we love? What lies do we tell, and what are we willing to sacrifice?

Karter Quint has the perfect life: star athlete, gifted pianist, straight A-student, handsome and charismatic, he seems fated for success. What nobody knows is that he has battled debilitating episodes during which a strange force invades his mind and body. The only place where Karter truly feels at ease is at his grandfather’s house on the water in Cliff Island, Maine. There, he meets a mysterious girl named Ella and has an instant obsession. He learns that she is a Meridian, or mermaid. Karter and Ella find themselves connected on a higher level—a level that neither understands.

They begin a heated and intense romance constrained by their limiting circumstances. However, loving Ella comes at a cost. Karter must take extreme measures of secrecy to protect her, straining relationships with his family and friends well into his adult life.

Rose Moon is an emotional and epic love story, and the first in a paranormal romance series, that will keep you guessing until the very end.

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Excerpt

We relocate to the outdoor sofa, and she reclines against my chest. The little time we have left is bittersweet, and finally, the time is up. A wave of pain ripples through me as I glance at my phone. It’s 11:30 p.m.

I want the weight of her body against me forever. Closing my eyes, I tighten my arms around her, breathing in her scent. Her arms reach overhead and grasp the back of my neck.

We both hold on to this unparalleled moment.

“It’s time,” I say to her quietly.

She doesn’t move. I blink back the sting in my eyes. Her chest heaves under my arms, then she slowly sits up.

Tears spill out the corners of her eyes as she faces me.

“Soon we’ll be able to hear each other’s thoughts.” I wipe a tear off her cheek, holding mine in.

“I am sorry I cannot stay like this.”

“You never need to be sorry for who you are. I fell in love with you. I wish I could be with you in there.” I shift my eyes to the water, and my legs are heavy as I stand.

We surveyed the area a few days ago and determined a shallow spot along the rocks would make a safe and easy transition into the bay. I smile reassuringly as I hold her hand while we walk down the set of stairs and onto the grass. Flashlights guide us on our journey down the trail to the rocky water’s edge. I’m grateful that at this moment we can’t feel each other’s emotions or hear each other’s thoughts. My smile is my mask to the pain that has turned to numbness inside.

We continue to walk cautiously down the narrow trail, flashlights cutting through the darkness. Our bodies brush against the leaves that reach out like fingers to touch us. When we reach the water’s edge, I close my eyes and clench my jaw. Fighting the tightness in my throat, I turn to her. She stands before me, tears streaking her cheeks.

She’s baring her soul, like she always has, like we both have. So why am I hiding my true feelings? If I deny the pain, is it still real? Can it still rip me apart? But this is real, and this is raw…and this is us. I need to feel the elation and the devastation. I want to drink us straight, no chaser. My bottom lip quivers, and my vision blurs. Before I can reach for her, her body slams into mine.

We’re enveloped in each other’s arms, and neither one of us can breathe through our sobs. I’m lanced with layers of pain, not just of her last moments with me as a human but the uncertainty of what is to come.

My lips seize hers, despite their quivering, tasting the salt of her tears. This is our last kiss before our mental connection returns, so I hold nothing back. My kiss is raw, fervent, hiding nothing but holding on to everything.

At last, we separate and place our flashlights on the water’s edge. Ella slips out of her clothing. There won’t ever be a time when her naked body doesn’t take my breath away.

I step backward along the shallow rocky coastline, and my fingers curl around hers, guiding her into the water as we both wince at the cold. I submerge myself in a seated position and lay her in my arms. Our eyes never waver from one another’s.

I gently grip the smooth skin of her legs as rippling sensations course along my side and fingers. The smoothness is replaced with the texture of a thousand pearls as her scales form. The pearls connect, sealing together the space between her inner thighs down to her ankles and flowing into the fins of her tail.

A surge of electricity jolts through me as our mental connection clicks into place. I close my eyes to focus on this familiar yet spinning sensation. I fight off the rising pressure in my temples, clearing my mind. A smile stretches across my face as I open my eyes. It’s good to have our connection back.

“I missed that,” I say.

“I did too.”

I scan her body. “Do you feel back to normal?”

“I do.”

Her magnetism pulls at my core. “I need to get used to this again.” I test my lips against hers, feeling their softness and the movements of her mouth, chasing out the pressure in my head.

“It’s going to be lonely not sleeping next to you,” she says.

“I know. I’m even going to miss you taking all the covers and pushing me to a little sliver on the side of the bed.”

“Me, too.” She laughs, but there’s sadness in it. “When will I see you again?”

“Tomorrow, and almost every night for the rest of the summer.”

I don’t say before I leave.

Basking in each other’s presence, sometimes speaking, sometimes not, it’s time for me to let her go. This time when I release her, a piece of me goes with her.

About Heidi Adams

Hi! My name is Heidi Adams, and I write wherever my characters guide me, which is mostly romance! A little paranormal/fantasy, a little contemporary, sometimes even a little dark. My characters take me on journeys that push me to the edge of my emotions with toe-curling passion, heart-pounding suspense that will leave you on the edge of your seat, and a ride full of twists and turns…but passion and love are always the driving force behind my characters and the heart of their stories. I love LOVE! And when I write, I escape into a world that love conquers all, even in the darkest of hours.

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Release Tour ~ Make My Heart Malt ~ by ~ Gia Stevens

Ten years is a long time to be infatuated with your former best friend, especially when she’s dating your brother. So, when a wedding invitation with his name embossed on the front comes in the mail, it feels like a fastball to the heart. But when I discover my unrequited crush isn’t the blushing bride, all bets are off because I’m ready to take my shot and this time, I’m playing for keeps. Readers who enjoy hate-to-lovers and unrequited romances will consume Make My Heart Malt by Gia Stevens, a standalone sports romance.

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Amazon → https://geni.us/MMHM_Amazon

Apple Books → https://geni.us/MMHM_AppleBooks

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Barnes & Noble → https://geni.us/MMHM_Nook

Google Play → https://geni.us/MMHMGooglePlay

A sizzling hate to lovers, unrequited crush, standalone sports romance by romantic comedy author Gia Stevens…

Dessa should have been mine… until my brother kissed her first.

Ten years is a long time to be infatuated with your former best friend, especially when she’s dating your brother. So, when I receive a wedding invitation with his name embossed on the front, it feels like a fastball to the heart. But it turns out, my unrequited crush isn’t the blushing bride after all.

Now’s my only chance to make amends for my past mistakes and give her the kiss I’ve desperately been holding onto. Unfortunately, she thwarts my efforts with each drink she throws at me.

When we find ourselves locked in a storage room, we’re forced to hash out the real reason I left town—and it wasn’t for baseball. Turns out, there’s a fine line between anger and passion and it doesn’t take long for her to scream my name.

Even after hitting third base, she still hates me. However, I’m determined to prove I’m not the man who ghosted her all those years ago. This time I’m not walking away.

My last game ended in a devastating miss—costing us the world championship, but this is one game I refuse to lose.

Because when it comes to Dessa… I’m playing for keeps.

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Excerpt

He lifts the glass to eye level, inspecting the drink. “So, what’s this one called?” He takes a sip.

My tongue peeks out, wetting my lips. “Sex on the Couch.”

He chokes on the drink. A small giggle escapes me as I pass him a napkin.

“There’s a little hint of sweetness that caught me off guard.” He holds his thumb and index finger in front of him centimeters apart.

“It’s the agave nectar.” I busy myself with making another drink before he can finish the last one. I roll the rim of the glass in pink sugar. Once it’s finished, I slide it across the counter.

“What’s this one?”

“This one is called Asshole.”

He squints at the pink liquid. “I don’t get it.”

I bite my lips together to hide my laughter. “You slide your tongue around the rim and then toss it back.”

His gaze jerks to mine. A slow smile plays on his lips. “Got it.”

A hint of desire dances in his irises. Either that, or the alcohol is causing me to hallucinate. His tongue peeks out as he swipes it around the edge of the glass. With hooded eyes he wraps his lips around the rim, watching me the entire time before tipping back the shot glass. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. Why’s it so hot? I tug at the collar of my sweatshirt. When did it get so tight? I should hate him, not want to jump over the counter and ride his face like a jockey at the Kentucky Derby. I pour the rest from the shaker in a glass and swallow the last gulp. It’s a desperate attempt to bring my body temperature back to normal, which I’m almost positive is caused by the dirty thoughts playing through my head. Either way, I need a distraction from Garrett. Or myself.

Vodka. Vodka is a good distraction. With the bottle in hand, I pour two shots into a shaker to make a new drink. Garrett’s eyes are on me the entire time from the other side of the counter. My heart races as he tracks my every move. When it’s finished, I slide it over to him. He studies the glass, then lifts his gaze to mine.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“You’re a lot more manageable when you’re passed out.”

He barks out a laugh, then swallows the pink liquid, and I do the same.

After he’s finished, his tongue runs over his bottom lip, and I can’t help shifting my weight, rubbing my thighs together.

“What’s that one called?” he asks.

“Get Me Naked,” I whisper softly.

His normally green irises darken to a hunter green, almost black, and his nostrils flare. I can only imagine he’s having the same thoughts as I am. It looks like he wants to jump over the counter and maul me like a ravenous grizzly bear.

“Say the words, Dessa. Don’t mask them behind drink names.”

Is he reading my thoughts? The glass slips out of my hand and shatters on the linoleum floor. Shards of glass scatter across the floor.

“Shit.” I bend down and grab the large pieces, placing them in my palm.

The stool scrapes across the wood floor as Garrett races around the end of the island to help. He holds out his hand for me to put what I’ve collected in his palm. While he throws the pieces into the trash, I get the broom from the tall storage pantry and sweep the rest. When I’m finished, I return the broom to the closet and close the door. I whirl around and immediately collide with Garrett’s very strong and muscular chest.

“I’m sorry.” My words are barely a whisper as my fingers brush over the cotton fabric covering his pecs. Without saying anything, his fingers rest on my waist as he leans around me to throw a piece of glass into the garbage. When he returns to his full height, he doesn’t move. His gaze wanders from my eyes to my mouth. I part my lips, wetting the bottom one with my tongue. He inches closer, his grip on me growing tighter. My breathing grows shallow. There’s so much electricity flowing between us it could power the entire state. His fingers flex on my waist.

“Garrett,” his name is a cross between a whisper and a plea.

His hand reaches up and cups my cheek as my chest heaves with every passing second. Then his mouth crashes onto mine in a fervent, desperate kiss. With a hand on my hip, he spins me around and without breaking the seal of his lips on mine, he lifts me onto the counter with no effort. My knees instinctively spread to allow room for his body to nestle in between.

He pulls away and runs the tip of his nose over mine. “Tell me you want this.”

About Gia Stevens

Gia Stevens resides in Northern Minnesota with her husband and cat. She lives for the warm, sunny days of summer and dreads the bitter cold of winter. A romantic comedy junkie at heart, she knew she wanted her own stories to encompass those same warm and fuzzy feelings.

When she’s not busy writing your next book boyfriend, Gia can be found binge watching TV shows that aired five years ago, taking pictures of her cat, or curled up with a steamy romance novel.

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