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Friday, November 28, 2014

Pride Promotions Susan Mac Nicol Blogtour CONTEST



Book Name: Love You Senseless (Men of London: Book 1)

Author Name: Susan Mac Nicol

Susan Mac Nicol is a self confessed bookaholic, an avid watcher of videos of sexy pole dancing men, self confessed geek and nerd and in love with her Smartphone. This little treasure is called ‘the boyfriend’ by her long suffering husband, who says if it vibrated, there’d be no need for him. Susan hasn’t had the heart to tell him there’s an app for that…

She is never happier than when sitting in the confines of her living room/study/on a cold station platform scribbling down words and making two men fall in love. She is a romantic at heart and believes that everything happens (for the most part) for a reason. She likes to think of herself as a ‘half full’ kinda gal, although sometimes that philosophy is sorely tested.

Lover of walks in the forest, theatre productions, dabbling her toes in the cold North Sea and the vibrant city of London where you can experience all four seasons in a day , she is a hater of pantomime (so please don’t tar and feather her), duplicitous people, bigotry and self righteous idiots.

In an ideal world, Susan Mac Nicol would be Queen of England and banish all the bad people to the Never Never Lands of Wherever -Who Cares. As that’s never going to happen, she contents herself with writing her HEA stories and pretending, that just for a little while, good things happen to good people.

About Me

Rather than wax lyrical about myself and bore you all to death, let me simply highlight the top 20 choice words, phrases and observations people have made about me over the years; perhaps then you’ll get the picture of what it’s like to be me. More importantly perhaps, you’ll wonder how my poor family, friends, and colleagues ever managed to put up with me. I put my hands on my heart and promise the things below have all been said by someone close to me at one time or another..

1. I apparently have the ability to tell someone to go to hell in a way that they enjoy the journey

2. Complete nutter.

3. Pig headed and stubborn

4. Little Miss Know it All

5. The best friend a person could have

6. A walking talking dictionary

7. Extremely intelligent (I like this one the best obviously even if it is my mother who keeps telling me this)

8. I am ‘leg’ (pronounced ‘ledge’) – according to my daughter this means I am ‘legend’ and her friends like me. She is 19. PS I only have her word for that one and it could mean something extremely rude or offensive.

9. Total control freak

10. Someone you can trust with anything

11. A no nonsense woman

12. A delight to work with

13. One of the best bosses I have ever had the privilege to work with

14. Innovative and driven

15. Too bloody awkward for words

16. Little Miss Perfect (said in a voice that wasn’t being complimentary but casting negative aspersions on my character)

17. Great sense of humour

18. Total freak

19. Best mum in the world (this one actually is the one I like the best disregard 7.)

20. Most unusual person I have ever known (this can be taken a number of ways – I prefer to see it as a compliment because it is something I absolutely aspire to -i.e. Not being like everyone else.)

Author Contact:

website: www.susanmacnicol.com

blog: susanmacnicol.wordpress.com

facebook: www.facebook.com/susiemax77

twitter: www.twitter.com/SusanMacNicol7

pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/susiemax777/pins/

linkedin: http://uk.linkedin.com/pub/susanmacnicol/48/a44/602

tumblr: http://www.susanmacnicol.com/my-tumblr-blog/

Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group

Cover Artist: Boroughs Publishing Group

Blurb(s):

London’s saucy up-and-coming chef, Eddie Tripp has just the right recipe to drive tragedy from the mind of Gideon Kent—and leave him senseless with desire.

From Soho to Norwich, there’s no escaping love.

A TASTE OF FOREVER


An award-winning chef with his own restaurant and an inexhaustible passion, Gideon Kent once had everything. Then came tragedy. It stole more than Gideon’s home. He hasn’t cooked since.

Until Eddie Tripp. Fun-loving and vivacious, the Norfolk redhead’s a real up-and-comer in Gideon’s kitchen—and other places. Slim where Gideon’s broad, easy-going where Gideon is growly, he and Gideon seem polar opposites, and yet Eddie conjures flavors that would tempt anyone with a taste for perfection. The sauce of love is already simmering, and this pair is about to dine on the most delicious dish they’ve ever prepared. Because Eddie’s been Gideon’s missing ingredient all along.

Categories: Contemporary, Erotica, Fiction, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance


Excerpt: Eddie kissed back, wanting nothing more than this moment, this man in his body and his lips on his. Somewhere a bell rang and for a minute Eddie thought it might be the sound of his own passion translated to tinkling sleigh bells and fireworks like in the cartoon movies when two people kissed. He smiled at that thought then as the bell got more insistent and irritating, he turned to Gideon only to find he was no longer there. Eddie scowled and reached across to where the annoying bell sound was….

He woke from his dream upright, sweating, sticky with come and tangled in musty smelling sheets that had seen their fair share of jack off action lately and needed washing. His hand rested on his mobile phone as it trilled incessantly with his Big Ben alarm. He blinked owlishly for a minute, wondering where he was, then as the dream faded, he fell back in a loose heap with a sense of loss.

Words: 85,000

Tour Dates: /Stops:
3-Nov
4-Nov
4-Nov
5-Nov
6-Nov
6-Nov
7-Nov
10-Nov
10-Nov
11-Nov
11-Nov
12-Nov
13-Nov
13-Nov
14-Nov
14-Nov
17-Nov
17-Nov
18-Nov
18-Nov
19-Nov
20-Nov
21-Nov
24-Nov
24-Nov
25-Nov
25-Nov
26-Nov
26-Nov
27-Nov
27-Nov
27-Nov
28-Nov
28-Nov
28-Nov



RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

A copy of Saving Alexander & Stripped Bare



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Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Pride Promotions - Renee George Kiss My Ash BookBlast CONTEST


Book Name: Kiss My Ash

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/Renee_George

Author Name: Renee George

Author Bio: Multi-published, best-selling author Renee George has been a factory worker, an army medic, a nurse, a website designer, a small press editor, an artist, and a teacher, but writing stories about sexy alpha men is the BEST job she's ever had. When she turned thirty, she went back to college and earned her BA in creative writing. She has been married to the love of her life, a wonderful man who supports in every way, for over half her life (and that is a VERY long time!). She happily lives in a small, Midwest town with her husband, two needy dogs and a very independent cat. Anything else you want to know, just ask. She’ll give you all the nitty gritty dirt.

Author Contact:

https://www.facebook.com/renee.george.351

https://www.facebook.com/authorreneegeorge

http://www.twitter.com/@reneegeorge2008

http://www.pinterest.com/reneegeorge12/

Newsletter: http://mad.ly/signups/99493/join

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

Blurb(s):

A werewolf who’s hairless in full shift.

A water sprite who can’t hold his shape at the slightest touch of water.

An ash-tree nymph with a black thumb who kills every bit of flora in her vicinity.

That’s Fortunate, Missouri, in a nutshell—the town for abnormal paranormals. Nymph Romy, however, can one-up them all—her particular flaw is killing her. But thanks to a possible love spell, the wolf and the water sprite could be Romy’s key to cheating death. And the three misfits may find that even imperfect creatures can still create a sexy, loving, perfect union.

Inside Scoop: Sol, Romy and Lucien love each other—emotionally, spiritually and physically. Which means both ménage and male/male action. You lucky reader, you.

Sales Links Elloras Cave

A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Categories: Bisexual, Erotica, Fantasy, Fiction, Menage/Poly, Paranormal, Romance

Excerpt:

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: KISS MY ASH

Copyright © RENEE GEORGE, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Mathias was a korrigan, a fairy dwarf, and to his detriment, he’d been born male. An abomination amongst the korrigans, who were always female. Even his own mother had wanted him dead, but you can’t kill an immortal.

When he finally strolled out from behind the counter, his height no more than four feet, he held a red clay pot filled to the brim with a dark, loamy soil. Carefully, he handed it to Romy. “Here.”

She stepped away. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with dirt?” Maybe Mathias was tired of her bringing back dead plant after dead plant. It didn’t matter how much she watered the damn things, fed them, or even talked to them—none survived. She’d stopped giving them names after a while, awash with guilt and shame over each death.

His red eyes sparkled with excitement. “In this soil, there is a very special seed, my girl. Very rare and unique. I’m entrusting you with its care.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. There is no way in hell I’m taking on a ‘rare and unique’ plant. No. No. No. Give me a hardy shrub or weed. Better yet, maybe a cabbage. I won’t feel so bad about a cabbage when it croaks.”

Romy was a dryad; specifically, an ash tree nymph. Which meant, in theory, plants should flourish around her, but she couldn’t even keep her own tree alive. Her mother had postulated it had something to do with the sperm donor, aka Romy’s biological father, but the elder dryad had refused to say more on the subject. Tree nymphs were traditionally a love-’em-and-leave-’em race of females. They didn’t get involved with beings they considered no more than means to an end. Males born to tree nymphs always developed into the same race as the male halves of the couplings, while the females were always dryads.

Unfortunately, something had gone very wrong in the making of Romy. It hadn’t taken long after the dryad equivalent of puberty set in before her people had decided she was toxic.

She pushed the pot back to Mathias. “Uh-uh. You’ve seen my track record.”

When her “birth defect” had eventually started to affect the trees of her forest six months ago, Romy had been summarily kicked out by the other dryads. Of course, her people had called it a “long, extended respite” and sent her to the town of Fortunate, Missouri.

The moniker, over the years, had become a joke. The town had been named after the Fortunate Isles, also called the Isles of the Blessed, and had been used for more than two hundred years as a dumping ground for the “paranormally challenged”. Those who didn’t fit in with their own kind were sent to Fortunate to finish out their days. For immortals like Mathias, the end of days was a long-ass time.

For Romy, well…without a tree to tend, she wouldn’t live another year, the chlorophyll drying in her veins. The plants were test subjects for her, to see if she could sustain life. So far, they’d served only to help ease the ache of dying. But as far as tending plants and making them flourish, she failed constantly.

For Mathias to trust her with a “special” plant…no way was she taking on that kind of responsibility.

It was one thing to kill a common houseplant, but a whole ’nother thing to be responsible for something “rare and unique”. Was Mathias crazy? Romy shook her head again. “I can’t. Don’t you have an air plant or something? Hell, those suckers don’t even require watering.”

He patted her hands, his fingers soothing and gentle. “Ah, but my dear, I hope this may be the answer to—”

Mathias’ explanation was cut off by a barking baritone. “Ah, shit!”

Romy put the pot on the counter as she scooted around Mathias to see who the unfamiliar voice belonged to.

In the greenhouse area beyond the main shop, two long, well-muscled legs and a firm ass, all packaged in perfectly tight jeans, stood nestled between two rows of plants.

“Hello,” Romy said.

The owner of the legs and ass straightened, making him a foot taller than Romy. And oh goddess, did he have an upper body and face to go with the lower half—thickly muscled chest and broad shoulders crowned by a face with bow lips, a Roman nose and the brightest green eyes. All framed by messy, shiny black hair that fell about his shoulders. It was as if the gods had decided to create perfection.

Ridiculous though—they would never do that. But hot damn, they’d come pretty close.

“Uh, hello yourself,” he said back, dusting his palms against his jeans.

His really low voice, which would have better suited a grizzly bear, sent a humming through Romy that made her body sing.

“What have you done now, Lucien?” Mathias asked when he walked into the back. His presence was enough to break the harmony, and Romy snapped out of her new-guy-induced daze.

“What a great name.” She smiled. It made her feel foolish, but she couldn’t punch down the giddiness.

“It’s a name.” He shrugged then leaned over again, which gave Romy another clear shot of his fabulous ass. When he stood once more, he held a small plant, cradling the roots carefully. He looked at Mathias. “I broke the pot, but the fern is fine.”

Lucien had a slight accent, but Romy couldn’t put her finger on the origin. If possible, it made the young man even more exotic and mysterious.

Mathias shook his head, making his red beard sweep his chest. “Where’s Sol?”

“I’m here!” Sol Winter, who’d been working for Mathias long before Romy had moved to Fortunate, stepped out from behind the last row of plants. He wore a baby-blue polo shirt that matched his light-blue eyes. It also complemented his tan, a deep golden bronze. Natural, according to him. Strange for an elf, but who was Romy to judge? His long blond hair was pulled into a ponytail. He often wore it down and spilling over his shoulders, but generally had it tied back for work.

Sol was taller than Lucien by several inches and a little broader. His smile brightened when he saw Romy. “Hey, you.” His mouth turned down in sympathy. “Kill another one?”

They’d had a strange relationship ever since Romy had arrived in Fortunate, which generally involved spirited banter and sarcasm. Even when the conversation turned a little mean, Romy was still thankful for Sol. He was the closest thing she had to a friend.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Nice.” He raised a brow. “Bitchy much?”

Even though she was certain Sol was gay, it didn’t stop her from having some wicked fantasies about him. After all, the man was hot-hot and knew how to dress. “Takes one to know one.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the oak this morning.” Sol scooped a handful of topsoil and pitched it at her.

“Oh no you didn’t.” In retaliation, Romy grabbed a nearby hose and squeezed the nozzle trigger, dowsing Sol where he stood.

“Stop!” Lucien yelled.

Too late. At Lucien’s shout, Romy turned, the spray of water slapping across the man’s face—and Lucien instantly melted into a clear puddle on the greenhouse floor.

Mortified, she dropped the hose. “Oh no!” She shook her head and stumbled forward. “What have I done?” Not only was she a plant killer, apparently she was a man killer as well.

Two lips formed in the clear pool. “I’m fine. Really.”

Words: 27,000
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Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Pride Promotions - Rebecca Cohen Blogtour CONTEST


Book Name: Saving Crofton Hall

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23286754-saving-crofton-hall

Author Name: Rebecca Cohen

Author Bio:

Rebecca Cohen is a Brit abroad. Having swapped the Thames for the Rhine, she has left London behind and now lives with her husband and baby son in Basel, Switzerland. She can often be found with a pen in one hand and a cup of Darjeeling in the other.

Author Contact: https://www.facebook.com/rebecca.cohen.710, http://twitter.com/R_Cohen_writes

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Blurb(s):

Benjamin Redbourn, Earl of Crofton, has no intention of giving up his beloved ancestral home without a fight. Faced with his mother’s gambling debts, forgery, and the possibility of foreclosure by the bank, Ben vows to make Crofton Hall pay for herself. But opening an Elizabethan manor house to the public isn’t a one man job. With time running out, Ben needs help—and fast.

Ashley Niven has experience managing events, and he also loves history. Being in charge of opening Crofton Hall is a dream come true. As he works with Ben to prepare the house as a venue for lavish weddings and receptions, Ashley finds himself drawn not just to the charm of the house but to the dashing Earl of Crofton. Even if Ashley can look past Ben’s playboy reputation, he fears an affair could prove too much of a distraction.

But Crofton Hall has many secrets, and something hidden for over four hundred years is about to change all their lives.

Categories: Contemporary, Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance

Sales Links

DSP ebook

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5725

DSP paperback

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5726

Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PHX3ANY/ref=tsm_1_fb_lk


ARe

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-savingcroftonhall-1685551-149.html


Excerpt:

“How much?”

She wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Mum!”

“Just short of five million to the bank.”

Ben lost his balance and landed heavily on his arse in a nearby chair.

“How the hell did you manage that? I only agreed to borrow five hundred

thousand, and that was for essential repairs, and the estate could easily

repay the loan in ten years.”

“I approached the bank with a business case for a visitor attraction.

They were very enthusiastic.”

“What gave you the right?”

“Your father left us both in charge of Crofton Hall, Benjamin,” she

said sharply.

He glowered at her and she deflated.

“I needed the money, and the only way I could get it was to tell the

bank I wanted to open Crofton Hall to the public.”

“And they agreed to lend the money without my permission?” he

asked carefully, hardly believing his mother’s audacity, but getting the

feeling he knew what she was going to say next.

“They might have been under the impression that you’d agreed to it,

and I was acting on both our behalves.”

“Really. And how would they have thought that?”

“Your signature isn’t exactly hard to copy.”

Ben covered his face with his hands, understanding what his mother

had done.

“I know I shouldn’t have, not without your permission, but I was

desperate. And the bank thought our business plan was excellent.”

He looked up at her. Elena’s eyes were red from crying, but there

was still an edge of defiance in her face. “How much is left?”

She shrugged. “A few thousand, maybe.”

“And you used Crofton Hall as security?”

“Yes.”

The anger flashed through him, burning through his usual amicable

nature. “How could you have been so stupid? Were you even thinking past

your own selfishness?”

Elena cowered in her seat.

“You’ve ruined us, destroyed this family!”

“I didn’t mean—”

Ben didn’t want to hear her feeble excuses. “Oh, that’s all right, then.

We’ll tell the bank, you didn’t mean it, and they’ll forget all about it.”

Ben reined in his anger. Taking deep, slow breaths, he clenched and

unclenched his fists as he regained his calm. He watched Catlin pace up

and down. Harry stood slumped against the fireplace, shell-shocked. Now

was not the time to panic. He needed to know exactly how much trouble

they were in and deal with it. “Get me the paperwork.”

Without argument, Elena jumped to her feet and scurried over to the

writing bureau in the corner. From the folds of frills and ruffles of her

blouse, she fished out a key on a chain and unlocked the bureau. She drew

out a sheaf of paper. “It’s all here.”

“Right, let’s hope my economics degree wasn’t for nothing.” Ben

snatched the papers. “I suggest you all keep your distance until I’ve

finished reading.”

He sank into a chair by the unlit fireplace, blocking out the angry

thoughts as he scanned sheet after sheet. The figures danced before his

eyes, and he saw the terms and conditions his mother had agreed to. The

interest, compound interest, and payback terms were listed and

categorized in black and white with no way of denying the facts. They

were in deep shit, the bank would be at the door within weeks, and Ben

seethed internally at his mother’s gall.

The effort she’d put into defrauding the bank was amazing, the

business case had been full of fine details and promised an excellent

return, but little help would that do them now.

Unless….

Ben stared around the sitting room; generations of Redbourns had sat

in here. Men who’d fought at Blenheim, Waterloo, and El Alamein —they

would never have given in and surrendered Crofton Hall in the face of

adversity. And it wasn’t about to happen while Ben was Earl of Crofton

either. As much as he wanted to rail against it, their only hope was to

convince the bank they were following through with the idea of opening

the house to the public.

“We can probably sell the London apartment. That’ll raise around

two million. Our trust funds are protected, so we can’t release the equity

from those. If we’ve any hope of holding on to her, Crofton Hall is going

have to earn her keep.”

Tour Date/Stops:

November 17: Amanda C. Stone, Hearts on Fire

November 18: My Fiction Nook, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Multitasking Mommas

November 19: Inked Rainbow Reads, Velvet Panic, Fallen Angel Reviews

November 20: 3 Chicks After Dark, Cathy Brockman Romances

November 21: Prism Book Alliance, Love Bytes

November 24: MM Good Book Reviews, Cate Ashwood

November 25: Book Reviews, Rants, and Raves, Michael Mandrake

November 26: Nephylim, BFD Book Blog

November 27: The Novel Approach, Queer Town Abbey

November 28: Parker Williams, Full Moon Dreaming, Crystal’s Many Reviewers




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