Good morning! I have a very exciting Cover Reveal for you today! Check out the cover for TIJAN’s upcoming CREW PRINCESS!
Being crew is walking between two worlds.
One world is normal: Prom. Parties. College.
Those are the concerns they worry about.
In our world, we deal with other situations.
Cops. Drugs. Brawling.
That’s a typical day for us.
But what if it wasn’t?
What if there came a day when you stopped?
When you considered letting your enemies win?
When you didn’t fight back?
When you chose a different path?
First I lost my family. Then I got the Wolf Crew.
I couldn’t lose them too.
But what happens when Cross, Zellman, and Jordan keep going…
…and I don’t?
Crew Princess is the second book in the Crew Series.
Barnes and Noble Paperback
UNITED KINGDOM AMZ
Two hours and three beers later, I was sober.
Taz couldn’t say the same. She was beyond buzzed, which both Cross and Race were just shaking their heads over. Me, I’d like to think I was more open-minded and accepting. Yeah. I surprised myself. Taz wasn’t slurring her words, but she’d told me for the eighth time how she loved me and viewed me as a sister.
After the ninth time, Cross finished his beer. “Yeah.” He turned to Race, who was on a log parallel to us. “Thinking it’s time my sister goes home?”
Race barely acknowledged Cross, just the slightest of nods. “Have you tried taking her home when she gets like this?” He raised his eyebrows now. “Not so easy. Your sister gets feisty.”
“Fuck yeah, I do!” She burped, raising her beer in the air and then surged to her feet. Jumping up on the log, she hollered right as she started to fall down, “Hey everyone!” I grabbed her legs, steadying her.
I don’t think Taz even noticed. She raised her beer even higher, her shirt lifting from the movement. “Who’s here from Roussou?!”
A cheer rose up.
“Hell yeah, we are!”
She waited until they quieted, burped again, and yelled out, “Raise your beers, Fuckers! ‘Cause we’re Roussou and we’re proud! Helllll yeah!”
Another roar went over the group nearest us, traveling to the other trucks, along with a few grumbles.
Cross groaned, “Like I said.” He hit Race’s leg. “Take her home, Fucker.”
Race glared back. “You take her home. She’s your sister.”
“She’s your girlfriend.”
“Boys. Seriously.” Tabatha sauntered over, sitting on the empty log across from our bonfire.
I looked, but she was alone. “Where’s Jordan?”
“Checking on Zellman.”
I pointed to the next truck. Zellman was in the back of the truck, a girl on his lap. “He’s right there. And the point of a buddy system isn’t to leave while your partner is checking on someone else.” I was saying that as I was rising to my feet, already scanning the party area.
I hadn’t been taking stock while we were sitting, mostly because it was nice to sit and talk with Taz and Race. But now, seeing nine trucks spread out over the area, bonfires spread throughout and all the people walking around, some going into the woods, but most staying in the lot, I was a little taken aback at how many people were there. The lot was huge, but there were more people there than I realized.
“Where is he?” I asked under my breath as Cross and Race climbed up on their logs, looking too.
We were looking. Looking.
We were not seeing him.
“What the fuck?” Race growled, shooting Tabatha a look. “You dropped the ball, Sweets.”
She’d been all cool and relaxed, but now she stood with us. “What? How far could he get…?” She trailed off as she was looking too.
“What direction did he go?” Cross asked.
“I—” She gulped, starting to pale. She had a beer in hand, her hand clutching it tightly. “I don’t know. He just said he was going to check on Z, then come find me.”
I went truck by truck.
Truck one, no Jordan.
Cross moved so he was standing next to me. “Which one are you on?”
He knew what I was doing.
“I’m on two now, going to three next.”
He pivoted. “Working on the last truck then. Race, check the parking lot. Tabatha, study the treeline.”
We were working as a team. Taz had started a Roussou cheer. Tabatha was groaning under her breath, looking, “Oh my God. What if something happened to him? Oh my God…” And repeat. She didn’t shut up for the next few minutes as we were all looking.
Two was clear.
Three, the same.
Four, still no Jordan.
Cross was counting down as he cleared the end of the line. “Eight. Seven. Six.”
We both were on five at the same time. Still no Jordan.
“He would stick out. He’s the tallest guy here,” Race was saying. “Fuck, guys.”
We knew. But it was decision time now.
I had my phone out, typing a text as Cross pressed his own phone to his ear. He was calling while I was texting. I spoke as my thumb was moving over the keys, “Tabatha.” My voice was calm, but my blood pressure was not. It was spiking all the way up.
“Yeah?” She rushed to my side. “What can I do to help? I’m so sorry, you guys. Honestly. He sent me over here. I didn’t think—I trust Jordan. He usually knows what’s best to do—”
I cut her off. Her rambling wasn’t helping in that second. “I need you to pull your phone out and send a group text to as many people as you can. We need eyes on Jordan, now. Text. Then do group chats on all your social media.”
“Okay. I can do that.” She pulled her phone out, and dropped it in her rush. Picked it back up, and dropped it again. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Okay.” She breathed out, exhaling deep. “I can do this. I can do this.”
“YEAH, WE’RE ROUSSOU AND WE’RE FUCKING PROUD!”
Since she was already shouting, I tugged on her shirt and said, “Start cheering Jordan’s name.”
“—FUCKING PROUD—JORDAN! JORDAN! JORDAN!”
Phones were lighting up. People were starting to look around. The word was spreading, and those who weren’t checking their phones started in with her chant.
Cross turned to me. “Let’s move. It’s time to start looking ourselves.”
I clipped my head in a nod, getting off my log.
“What should we do?” Race stepped toward us.
Taz was still thrusting her fist in the air, leading the chants. Why, I had no clue, but I gestured to her now. “Watch over her. If Jordan’s actually missing, pressure is good against whoever might be hurting him, but if he’s not missing, we don’t want to give the wrong people ideas. You know?”
He nodded, running a hand over his face. Bags suddenly seemed to appear under his eyes. “This whole rivalry thing is real, huh?”
Release day: July 30, 2019
A mature YA/New Adult contemporary rock star romance by Ginger Scott
Arizona Wakefield was a beat without a melody. Living a half-breathing life in a half-finished neighborhood with parents who always wore half-hearted smiles, the high school senior only had one thing that let her color outside her family’s perfectly drawn lines—her drums.
Jesse Barringer was a song without a chorus. The son of a washed-up rock star who’s also one hell of a deadbeat dad, he was given two things from his father—musical genius and a genetic link to the bipolar disorder that drives him mad.
One night in a garage at the end of a cul-de-sac in the middle of a bankrupt California neighborhood, Jesse’s melody found Arizona’s rhythm. An angry boy with storm-colored eyes found a blonde angel in Doc Martens with missing lines in her own story. Where her rhythm stopped, his words took over, and together, they wrote one hell of a story.
** Drummer Girl is a mature YA/New Adult romance that touches on mental health, drug abuse and includes mature sexual situations.
About the Author:
Ginger Scott is an Amazon-bestselling and Goodreads Choice Award-nominated author of several young and new adult romances, including Waiting on the Sidelines, Going Long, Blindness, How We Deal With Gravity, This Is Falling, You and Everything After, The Girl I Was Before, Wild Reckless, Wicked Restless, In Your Dreams, The Hard Count, Hold My Breath, and A Boy Like You.
A sucker for a good romance, Ginger’s other passion is sports, and she often blends the two in her stories. (She’s also a sucker for a hot quarterback, catcher, pitcher, point guard…the list goes on.) Ginger has been writing and editing for newspapers, magazines and blogs for more than 15 years. She has told the stories of Olympians, politicians, actors, scientists, cowboys, criminals and towns. For more on her and her work, visit her website at http://www.littlemisswrite.com.
When she’s not writing, the odds are high that she’s somewhere near a baseball diamond, either watching her son field pop flies like Bryce Harper or cheering on her favorite baseball team, the Arizona Diamondbacks. Ginger lives in Arizona and is married to her college sweetheart whom she met at ASU (fork ’em, Devils).
Social Media Links:
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/GingerScottAuthor
One minute, I’m a woman trying to find her way in the world, and the next, I’m the sender of six of the most embarrassing text messages that have ever been sent in the history of time—or the cell phone.
My Brother’s Billionaire Best Friend, a hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe, is coming July 18th and we have the fantastic new cover!
Mabel “Maybe” Willis died a virgin at the very young age of twenty-four.
She leaves behind her parents, Betty and Bruce, her brother, Evan, a laptop filled with one too many Jason Momoa memes, and a Kindle library with more books than one human being could ever finish in a lifetime.
Cause of death: a text message.
Okay. So, I didn’t die.
But I may as well have.
One minute, I’m a woman trying to find her way in the world, and the next, I’m the sender of six of the most embarrassing text messages that have ever been sent in the history of time—or the cell phone. Whatever.
We’re talking code red, send a flipping mayday, the apocalypse is coming kind of texts.
And I didn’t just send them to some random person I’ll never see again.
No. That would be too easy.
I sent them to Milo Ives.
The man who played a starring role in all of my teenage fantasies—and my brother’s lifelong best friend.
And, boy oh boy, has he grown up.
He’s hard-bodied, blue-eyed, jawline-of-stone handsome, crazy successful, and has more money in his bank account than my brain can fathom.
Deflower me, please? I said.
Yeah. Send help.
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/317HY3w
About Max Monroe:
A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads. Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.
Connect with Max Monroe:
Stay up to date with Max Monroe by joining their mailing list today: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/newsletter
THE LOCKER ROOM COVER REVEAL!!!
HAVE YOU HEARD THE RUMOR AROUND CAMPUS ABOUT THE LOCKER ROOM?
If you haven’t, let me enlighten you: Legend has it if you bring a girl into the sacred after-game domain of the baseball locker room, it will end with a walk down the aisle. Basically one rowdy and naked encounter against the lockers with the girl of your dreams will make her your wife.
TRANSLATION: BASEBALL PLAYERS ARE STUPIDLY SUPERSTITIOUS AND BELIEVE THE LOCKER ROOM HAS MAGICAL POWERS.
But not all baseball players are superstitious, me included. So when the girl I’ve fallen for brushes me off, I start to question if I need to switch my way of thinking. Maybe it’s time I finally hand out a coveted invitation to the locker room.
THE ONLY QUESTION IS, WILL SHE ACCEPT?
COMING JUNE 20TH!!!!
Add to your Goodreads TBR: https://bit.ly/2HHzvfK
Pre order your copy here: mybook.to/TheLockerRoom ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book. Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub
Jay lives in the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia, in her dream home where music is loud and laughter is louder.
For publishing rights (Foreign & Domestic) Film or television, please contact her agent Erica Spellman-Silverman, at Trident Media Group.
I am super excited to share with you the cover for SUPERFAN by SARINA BOWEN!
Sometimes lady luck shakes your hand, and sometimes she smacks your face. Sometimes she does both on the same day.
Three years ago I met the most amazing woman. We were both down on our luck. Then I got that call—the one that tells you to get your buns on a plane to go meet your destiny.
But the girl was left behind. I didn’t have her phone number, and she didn’t know my real name.
While I became a professional hockey player, she became a superstar, with platinum records and legions of fans. And a slick, music producer boyfriend who treated her badly.
But fate wasn’t done with us yet. When Delilah turns up at a hockey game, I can’t resist making contact. The internet swoons when I ask her out on a date.
She might not remember me. But her jerkface ex does. He’ll do anything to keep us apart.
Good thing athletes never give up. This time I’m playing for keeps.
Be the first to read! Three winners (US or Canada) will win early signed paperback copies of Superfan!
Enter here: https://geni.us/SuperfanGiveaway
“Would you like a beer?” the cute bartender asks me.
I glance at the pile of mint leaves on his cutting board and hesitate. “Sure,” I say. But the mint looks so fresh and pretty.
“I could make you something different.”
“Beer is great. A cold…”
“—lager,” he finishes. “No glass, no opener.”
When I look up to flash him a smile, my heart does a little somersault. Those kind eyes are smiling at me, too. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“It’s really no problem.” He turns toward the beer cooler. “You’re an easy customer, trust me.”
But I really meant—thank you for remembering. As he leans down to grab a bottle for me, I find myself admiring the strong muscles in his back. Stop it, I admonish myself. It only gets worse when he turns around and places the bottle in front of me. I’ve never seen hands like his. I didn’t even know wrists could look muscular.
Even so. Ogling him is not why I came here. I pull out my keychain opener and remove the cap from my beer.
He discards it, gives me another pleasant smile and then picks up his paring knife again.
I take a sip, wondering when he’s going to mention my show at the Coconut Club. He was there. I saw him.
He separates some mint leaves from their stems and says nothing.
I last about seventeen seconds. “Well?”
“Well?” He looks up. “Sorry?”
“Jesus lord.” I close my eyes and then open them again. This is not going how I’d hoped it would. “What did you think?”
“Of…?” His amazing eyes are studying me.
“Forget I asked.” I take a swig of beer.
“Think about what?” He pushes the cutting board aside, and his smile turns knowing.
“My set at the Coconut Club! I saw you holding up that wall in the back. Don’t lie.”
He tips his head back and lets out a sudden laugh. “I’m so busted. I loved your show, but I didn’t expect you to spot me.”
“You loved it so much you weren’t going to say anything?” The sentence sounds crazy to my own ears. I put down the beer. “You know what? Never mind. I’m just being psycho right now. This town is getting into my head.”
“Listen, girly.” He braces both (muscular!) hands on the bar and looks me right in the eye. “I loved it so much that I don’t even know what to say about it. From that moment at the beginning—when you shut that asshole’s maw? To the part where you made a lady cry.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t look away. And I never wanted it to end.”
I give him a slow blink, just trying to take that in. It’s so much more than I was even hoping to hear.
“Shit, Delilah. If that set doesn’t win you whatever contract you’re looking for, they don’t even deserve you.”
Something warm and unfamiliar settles into the center of my belly. “That might be the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Which only means you’re still trying to get my phone number.”
He laughs immediately. “Can’t both things be true? Both my musical assessment and my interest in your evening plans?”
“Because you know so much about music.” I flip my hair and take another sip of beer.
“Look. I don’t know shit about music. But I know plenty about talent.” He leans down on a set of forearms I shouldn’t be noticing. “I know that talent sometimes takes a nap at just the wrong moment, but it never stays asleep for long. I also know that luck matters, too. If they don’t give you what you want, it won’t be your fucking fault.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
But he’s not done. “I saw something else valuable the other night. You’re good in the clinch. And that counts for double, I swear to God.”
“Yeah. You’re not just good at practice.” He pauses, wrinkling up his interesting nose. “What word would a musician use? Okay—you’re not a rehearsal musician. That stage was like your home. Either that or you fake it really well. That’s going to pay your rent someday, I promise.”
“Wow.” It’s like he looked right into my terrified little soul and found the very thing I needed to hear. Those beautiful eyes of his are practically burning me right now, so I have to look away. “Thank you. Really. I really needed that pep talk.”
I make the mistake of looking up at him again, and, for a split second, I see pure yearning. It’s like our souls vibrate at exactly the same frequency. And I have no idea what to do with that.
Teardrop Shot, an all-new standalone sports romance from New York Times bestselling author Tijan is coming June 24th and we have the steamy cover!
I just have to add that I’m SUPER excited to read this one because it’s set in SEATTLE! Although, I do wish it was the Seattle Sonics instead of Thunder…😉
I asked for his criteria for bed buddies–that’s the PG version.
He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start.
Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder.
Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation.
He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.
Correction: where I work again, because I was fired from my last job.
And I might have a tiny bit of baggage, but that’s normal. Right?
Reese and I shouldn’t have become friends. We shouldn’t have become roommates.
And we really shouldn’t have started sleeping together … (Except we did.)
I’m adorably psychotic. He’s in the NBA.
This is not a disaster waiting to happen, at all.
Teardrop Shot is a 107k standalone with brand new characters.
Pre-order your copy today!
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/30hnAN1
Tijan is a New York Times Bestselling author that writes suspenseful and unpredictable novels. Her characters are strong, intense, and gut-wrenchingly real with a little bit of sass on the side. Tijan began writing later in life and once she started, she was hooked. She’s written multi-bestsellers including the Carter Reed Series, the Fallen Crest Series, and the Broken and Screwed Series among others. She is currently writing a new YA series along with so many more from north Minnesota where she lives with a man she couldn’t be without and an English Cocker she adores.
Connect with Tijan
Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/TijansFanPage/
Bestselling authors Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy return with their first M/M romance in 3 years! Check out the cover and blurb below!
Jock. Secretly a science geek. Hot AF.
LobsterShorts: So. Here goes. For her birthday, my girlfriend wants…a threesome.
SinnerThree: Then you’ve come to the right hookup app.
LobsterShorts: Have you done this sort of thing before? With another guy?
SinnerThree: All the time. I’m an equal opportunity player. You?
Finance major. Secretly a male dancer. Hot AF.
SinnerThree: Well, I’m down if you are. My life is kind of a mess right now. School, work, family stress. Oh, and I live next door to the most annoying dude in the world. I need the distraction. Are you sure you want this?
LobsterShorts: I might want it a little more than I’m willing to admit.
SinnerThree: Hey, nothing wrong with pushing your boundaries…
LobsterShorts: Tell that to my control-freak father. Anyway. What if this threesome is awkward?
SinnerThree: Then it’s awkward. It’s not like we’ll ever have to see each other again. Right? Just promise you won’t fall in love with me.
LobsterShorts: Now wouldn’t that be life-changing…
Q&A about Top Secret:
Q: Have we met these characters before in another book?
A: No! These guys are brand new, and we can’t wait for you to meet them.
Q: Is this story MM? Or is it a MMF / MFM / menage?
A: This book is MM.
Q: Is this a love triangle story?
A: Not really. You’ll see.
The Billionaire Boss Next Door, an all-new hilarious romantic standalone from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe, is coming May 16th and we have the sexy cover!
My new boss has it all. In spades. Gorgeous green eyes? Check. Hard-and-sexy body? Check. Intelligence? Check. Success? A big fat billionaire… Check.
Too bad I haven’t started out on the best foot.
My big mouth has already turned him against me, and tempting good looks and success aside, Trent Turner is no peach either. He’s stubborn and thick-headed, and son of a fruitcake, he thinks he knows everything there is to know about the hotel business.
With him running the development of the new Vanderturn New Orleans Hotel and me doing the design, our work relationship is far too intimate for two people who absolutely despise one another.
But that’s not all.
See, he isn’t just my billionaire boss from hell. He’s my new neighbor, too.
Same city. Same building. Same floor.
Trent Turner is my billionaire boss next door.
Holy moly, let’s hope my career—and hormones—can survive.
Disclaimer: If you generally love to suffer, hate fun of any kind, and are allergic to laughter, this book is not for you.
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2uEva5S
About Max Monroe:
A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.
Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.
Connect with Max Monroe:
Website: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/ BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/max-monroe Amazon: https://amzn.to/2ReoxkK Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authormaxmonroe/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authormaxmonroe/ Stay up to date with Max Monroe by joining their mailing list today: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/newsletter