With a Hitch by R.C. Boldt

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With A Hitch by RC Boldt

Release Date: March 19th

EBOOK-WithoutAHitch.jpg

With A Hitch, an all-new standalone contemporary romance by RC Boldt.

She’s playing it safe. He’s playing for keeps.

DARCY

Growing up in the foster system, I learned the hard way that lasting love doesn’t always come easy. Dating in the modern era can be daunting; the bar scene and dating apps leave you wondering if there’s any hope in sight.

That’s where I come in. Helping you break the “swipe-right” cycle, I’m dedicated to matching you with the love of your life.

Finding Mrs. Right for Dax Kendrick should be a piece of cake. Except nothing about this man is simple.

DAX

The NFL has given me more than I ever imagined—a roof over my head, food on the table, and a chance to provide for the family who sacrificed everything while I chased my dreams.

Maintaining a squeaky-clean image for my sponsors when my paycheck and the fruits of my endorsements are all the women want is a hefty challenge.

I’d nearly given up when I hired Darcy Cole. Yet the more I’m around her, the less I care about finding my perfect match.

Because it might be right in front of me.

WAH - AN.jpg

Download your copy today!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2HgZnQ4

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WithAHitchRCB

Apple Books US: https://goo.gl/LRqtYk

Kobo: https://goo.gl/nLfiA3

Nook: https://goo.gl/zfJj6v

Google Play: https://goo.gl/r7a3N8

Amazon Paperback: https://goo.gl/MheXja

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2TKiVQ8

Blog Tour.jpg

Excerpt:

DAX

* * *

“Where’s my favorite girl?” I call out, entering my childhood home.

“I’m here, Uncle Dax!” my niece, Violet, hollers through the house just before her quick footsteps follow.

My parents refused to let me buy them a new house once I started putting money in the bank. Mom didn’t want the neighbors to think she and Dad thought they were better than anyone else. This means my parents, my sister, and niece, all still live in the fifteen-hundred-square-feet home I grew up in.

I did pay off their mortgage as well as my sister’s student loans before I set up a college fund for my niece, much to their dismay. But let’s be honest, it’s the least I could do for a family who’s always been there for me.

Dad refused to retire from the hardware store, but I at least got him to agree to go from full-time to part-time a few years ago. It took some aggressive bargaining, but when I’d shown him how well the account I’d started for them with my financial planner had been doing, he’d finally relented.

“Hey! I thought I was your favorite girl!” another female voice protests.

“Well, I don’t know,” I hedge. “Depends on if you made any chocolate chip cookies.”

My mother promptly swats at me with a laugh, the little crinkles at the corners of her eyes becoming more pronounced. The guys always say I resemble my mom, and even though I know they say it in more of a shit talking, you look like your mama kind of way, it’s still true. She and I have the same smile, and although her skin is darker than mine—my dad’s the odd man out in the family with fair white skin—there’s no mistaking me for being her son.

I pull her close for a hug, and she pats my back, mumbling, “I swear, you just keep getting more muscles every time I see you.” The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder, and her dark hair seems like it has more gray threaded in it each time I see her.

“Don’t give him a bigger head than he already has.”

My eyes catch sight of Violet and my sister, Ava, entering the small kitchen. Mom releases me, and Violet rushes past her mother intent on getting to me first. I bend and scoop her up in a big hug.

“Uncle Dax, I missed you.” Her whispered words wrap themselves around me.

“I missed you, too, love bug.” God, I swear, she’s growing like a damn weed lately. Once I set her on her feet, she starts talking a mile a minute.

“Oh my gosh, Uncle Dax! You’re not going to believe what happened the other day in gymnastics camp. That girl I told you about—the one who was saying my hair was weird and stuff—well, I finally had enough, and I did what you told me to do.”

All eyes are suddenly on me. Trust me when I say this is not what a man wants in this household because it normally means I’m in deep shit.

“Uh, remind me again what I told you?” I say slowly, praying to God above that I hadn’t made some idiotic, off-the-cuff comment as a joke, and she took me seriously.

Violet gives me one of those old people are so forgetful looks. “You said I could use sarcasm because most people who are mean and rude don’t understand it, and it’ll go over their head and be a beautiful inside joke for you and everyone else who doesn’t have shit for brains.”

Violet,” my mother and Ava say in unison, flashing me a stern look.

Violet grimaces. “Sorry. But I was quoting him.” Then she picks right up. “And then you said I should let it roll off my shoulders like it doesn’t bother me.” She grins happily. “Well, I did a combination of the two. And she’s totally left me alone ever since.” My niece pumps a fist in the air. “Go Team Kendrick!”

“Way to go!” We exchange a high five. Sobering, I school my face in a stern expression. “Remember not to cuss, though. It’s not ladylike.”

Her sweet face peers up at me, so adorably cute with such seriousness that it takes all my effort to not break into a smile. “How about ‘crap’?”

“Uh…” I flick my eyes to Ava, who makes a face before shrugging. “I think that one can be okay, as long as it’s not overused.”

Violet nods. “Noted.” God, this kid is such an old soul sometimes. “I’m going to practice my backflips for gymnastics some more out back.” In a flash, she’s gone.

I sag against the counter. “Man, two minutes, and I’m exhausted.”

My sister sidles up beside me and snickers. “As if Mr. Gatorade himself ever gets exhausted.”

I toss her a sharp look. “Seriously? One advertising campaign for a sports drink, and you’re giving me sh—”

“Ahem!” our mother clears her throat pointedly.

“Crap.” Mom nods in approval, and I continue. “About it?” I place a palm flat against the center of my chest, feigning sadness. “Where’s the love?”

She shoves at me playfully. “You get enough love from all your admirers.”

Mom huffs. “You need to settle down with a nice woman.”

“Speaking of a nice woman…” I press my lips thin, trying to figure out how to best tell them I decided to use a matchmaking service, but decide to throw caution to the wind. “I hired a professional,” I blurt out.

As if in slow motion, my mother turns around slowly from where she’s stirring something on the stove. My sister’s jaw goes slack. And they both gape at me.

Just the reaction a guy wants.

My mother’s expression is horrified. Not quite what I was expecting, but then again, she’s always been a spitfire.

“Dax Allen Kendrick! I forbid it!”

I rear back, confused as hell. “Why would you forbid it?”

Her jaw drops, and she gasps indignantly. “Why would I forbid it?!” She turns to my sister, her voice increasing in volume. “Why would I forbid it?!”

“Say it again, Mom. Not sure we heard you the first time,” my sister deadpans.

If my mother didn’t have a freaking wooden spoon in her hand, I’d let out the laugh aching to break free. I got to know that sucker really well through my early years, and even though I’m older, I don’t put it past my mother to come at me with that thing.

Speaking of which, my right ass cheek starts to throb in remembrance at the mere sight of that spoon.

I hold up my hands. “Calm down, Mom.” Shit. I didn’t expect this reaction. “Look, she’s great at what she does and—”

The hand holding the wooden spoon rises another inch, and I flinch in response. “Don’t you tell me what she’s great at, young man!”

I look at my sister, silently pleading for help. She merely shrugs, wide-eyed, with an I don’t pretend to understand her look.

Great. I’m left to fend for myself once again.

“Can you just put that thing”—I gesture to the spoon in her hand—“down, so I can explain?”

My mother’s lips purse like she’s just bit into the sourest of lemons. Her eyes practically spew fire at me. “Fine.” Her tone is curt. “But you’re not too old to get swatted with it, young man,” she warns with a pointed look.

My hands fly to my ass protectively, and my sister snorts. I glare at her, and she simply sticks her tongue out at me in response.

Some things never change.

“Okay, so Ivy, Becket’s wife—”

My mother’s expression instantly softens. “Such a sweet girl, that one.” Then with a stern look, she adds, “You need to find someone like that.”

I draw in a deep breath, praying for patience. “Ivy’s business partner, Darcy, runs a matchmaking service and—” At the odd expression on my mother’s face, I stop. “What’s that look for?”

“Oh, honey.” She lets out a long sigh before spinning around to tend to the saucepan on the stove.

I stare at my sister expectantly. Her lips twitch as though she’s attempting to restrain a smile. I wave her on. “Say it.”

She snickers. “Mom thought when you said ‘professional,’ you meant prostitute.”

I whip around to stare at my mother. “Are you serious?!” What the hell? “You really think I’d hire a freaking prostitute?”

“Apparently so,” my sister chimes in with a smirk.

I toss up my hands in exasperation. “I can’t believe you think I’d resort to that.”

“Well,” my sister starts, “you have been single for a while.”

“That doesn’t mean I’d hire a prostitute for fu—” Mom’s head whips around in warning, and I correct myself quickly. “For God’s sake.”

“What’s a prostitute?”

Fucking hell. Violet’s just come back inside.

“Nothing.” That’s my mother’s response.

“A person who makes bad choices.” My sister’s no-nonsense response.

“A woman who sells—” This time, I really do get swatted with the wooden spoon. As if it doesn’t sting enough against my bare forearm, I now have a line of pasta sauce on it too.

I grin and make a show of licking the sauce off my skin. Mom hates that.

She raises the spoon threateningly, and I hold up my hands in surrender. “I just want to be loved. What’s a guy have to do to get some love these days?”

“Pretty sure you already know what you have to do to get some love,” my sister mutters under her breath.

I jab an index finger in her direction and give her a sharp look. “Watch it, or I’ll tell Mom who broke that angel statue she brought home from a garage sale.”

Ava’s expression morphs into astonishment. “You swore you’d never bring that up!” Her lips curve suddenly in a devious smile. “As long as I never tell Mom what happened to that pair of booty shorts she got you for twenty-five cents.”

“What shorts?” my mother asks.

I stare at her in complete disbelief. “Seriously? You’re more worried about the hideous shorts that put my junk on display than the statue she broke?”

My mother sputters. “But you said you loved those shorts!”

I glance up at the ceiling, hoping for divine intervention, which, of course, never comes. “Mom,” I say with exaggerated patience. “The shorts were cut so high I would’ve had to wax.”

“Well, you could’ve said so,” she huffs, turning back to the stove. “They were a great deal.”

“I’m sure they were a steal for a quarter.” My sister snickers at my sarcastic response, and we burst out laughing.

Our mom’s been a fan of garage sales for as far back as we can remember. Sometimes she brings home some decent stuff, but more often than not, it ends up being some hideous “treasure.”

Hence the shorts.

“You two are gonna get it!” Mom warns, raising that infamous wooden spoon once more.

Man, it’s good to be home.

About RC Boldt

RC Boldt enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she’s your girl. 


Connect with RC Boldt

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rcboldtauthor

Website: http://www.rcboldtbooks.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RC_Boldt

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rcboldt

 

Hook Shot byKennedy Ryan

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Hook Shot, a deeply emotional standalone set in the worlds of professional basketball and high fashion from Kennedy Ryan, is coming March 28th and we have the hot new cover for you!

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Divorced. Single dad. Traded to a losing squad.

Cheated on, betrayed, exposed.

My perfect life blew up in my face and I’m still picking up the pieces.

The last thing I need is her.

A wildflower. A storm. A woman I can’t resist.

Lotus DuPree is a kick to my gut and a wrench in my plans

from the moment our eyes meet.

I promised myself I wouldn’t trust a woman again,

but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Lo.

She’s not the plan I made, but she’s the risk I have to take.

A warrior. A baller. The one they call Gladiator.

Kenan Ross charged into my life smelling all good, looking even better and snatching my breath from the moment we met.

The last thing I need is him.

I’m working on me. Facing my pain and conquering my demons.

I’ve seen what trusting a man gets you.

  1. Don’t. Have. Time. For. This.

But he just keeps coming for me.

Keeps knocking down my defenses and stealing my excuses

one by one.

He never gives up, and now…I’m not sure I want him to.

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2RQ7p81

LIVE Alert: http://bit.ly/2XbzXc2

Audiobook Alert: http://bit.ly/2tsr7sH

Audiobook Release: April 30th

Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs : Romantic Book Affairs

Photographer: Henry Lou

Enter the Giveaway on Kennedy’s FB Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KennedyRyanAuthor/

About Kennedy

A Top 30 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy Ryan writes about women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the center of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.

She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine and Frolic, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director of a foundation serving Atlanta Autism families, she has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for families living with autism.

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Connect with Kennedy

Never Miss A Release! Follow Kennedy on BookBub: http://bit.ly/2HcRuee

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Website: http://kennedyryanwrites.com

 

With a Hitch by R.C. Boldt

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With A Hitch by RC Boldt

Release Date: March 19th

EBOOK-WithoutAHitch.jpg

With A Hitch, an all-new standalone contemporary romance by RC Boldt.

She’s playing it safe. He’s playing for keeps.

DARCY

Growing up in the foster system, I learned the hard way that lasting love doesn’t always come easy. Dating in the modern era can be daunting; the bar scene and dating apps leave you wondering if there’s any hope in sight.

That’s where I come in. Helping you break the “swipe-right” cycle, I’m dedicated to matching you with the love of your life.

Finding Mrs. Right for Dax Kendrick should be a piece of cake. Except nothing about this man is simple.

DAX

The NFL has given me more than I ever imagined—a roof over my head, food on the table, and a chance to provide for the family who sacrificed everything while I chased my dreams.

Maintaining a squeaky-clean image for my sponsors when my paycheck and the fruits of my endorsements are all the women want is a hefty challenge.

I’d nearly given up when I hired Darcy Cole. Yet the more I’m around her, the less I care about finding my perfect match.

Because it might be right in front of me.

WAH - AN.jpg

Download your copy today!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2HgZnQ4

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WithAHitchRCB

Apple Books US: https://goo.gl/LRqtYk

Kobo: https://goo.gl/nLfiA3

Nook: https://goo.gl/zfJj6v

Google Play: https://goo.gl/r7a3N8

Amazon Paperback: https://goo.gl/MheXja

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2TKiVQ8

Blog Tour.jpg

Excerpt:

DAX

* * *

“Where’s my favorite girl?” I call out, entering my childhood home.

“I’m here, Uncle Dax!” my niece, Violet, hollers through the house just before her quick footsteps follow.

My parents refused to let me buy them a new house once I started putting money in the bank. Mom didn’t want the neighbors to think she and Dad thought they were better than anyone else. This means my parents, my sister, and niece, all still live in the fifteen-hundred-square-feet home I grew up in.

I did pay off their mortgage as well as my sister’s student loans before I set up a college fund for my niece, much to their dismay. But let’s be honest, it’s the least I could do for a family who’s always been there for me.

Dad refused to retire from the hardware store, but I at least got him to agree to go from full-time to part-time a few years ago. It took some aggressive bargaining, but when I’d shown him how well the account I’d started for them with my financial planner had been doing, he’d finally relented.

“Hey! I thought I was your favorite girl!” another female voice protests.

“Well, I don’t know,” I hedge. “Depends on if you made any chocolate chip cookies.”

My mother promptly swats at me with a laugh, the little crinkles at the corners of her eyes becoming more pronounced. The guys always say I resemble my mom, and even though I know they say it in more of a shit talking, you look like your mama kind of way, it’s still true. She and I have the same smile, and although her skin is darker than mine—my dad’s the odd man out in the family with fair white skin—there’s no mistaking me for being her son.

I pull her close for a hug, and she pats my back, mumbling, “I swear, you just keep getting more muscles every time I see you.” The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder, and her dark hair seems like it has more gray threaded in it each time I see her.

“Don’t give him a bigger head than he already has.”

My eyes catch sight of Violet and my sister, Ava, entering the small kitchen. Mom releases me, and Violet rushes past her mother intent on getting to me first. I bend and scoop her up in a big hug.

“Uncle Dax, I missed you.” Her whispered words wrap themselves around me.

“I missed you, too, love bug.” God, I swear, she’s growing like a damn weed lately. Once I set her on her feet, she starts talking a mile a minute.

“Oh my gosh, Uncle Dax! You’re not going to believe what happened the other day in gymnastics camp. That girl I told you about—the one who was saying my hair was weird and stuff—well, I finally had enough, and I did what you told me to do.”

All eyes are suddenly on me. Trust me when I say this is not what a man wants in this household because it normally means I’m in deep shit.

“Uh, remind me again what I told you?” I say slowly, praying to God above that I hadn’t made some idiotic, off-the-cuff comment as a joke, and she took me seriously.

Violet gives me one of those old people are so forgetful looks. “You said I could use sarcasm because most people who are mean and rude don’t understand it, and it’ll go over their head and be a beautiful inside joke for you and everyone else who doesn’t have shit for brains.”

Violet,” my mother and Ava say in unison, flashing me a stern look.

Violet grimaces. “Sorry. But I was quoting him.” Then she picks right up. “And then you said I should let it roll off my shoulders like it doesn’t bother me.” She grins happily. “Well, I did a combination of the two. And she’s totally left me alone ever since.” My niece pumps a fist in the air. “Go Team Kendrick!”

“Way to go!” We exchange a high five. Sobering, I school my face in a stern expression. “Remember not to cuss, though. It’s not ladylike.”

Her sweet face peers up at me, so adorably cute with such seriousness that it takes all my effort to not break into a smile. “How about ‘crap’?”

“Uh…” I flick my eyes to Ava, who makes a face before shrugging. “I think that one can be okay, as long as it’s not overused.”

Violet nods. “Noted.” God, this kid is such an old soul sometimes. “I’m going to practice my backflips for gymnastics some more out back.” In a flash, she’s gone.

I sag against the counter. “Man, two minutes, and I’m exhausted.”

My sister sidles up beside me and snickers. “As if Mr. Gatorade himself ever gets exhausted.”

I toss her a sharp look. “Seriously? One advertising campaign for a sports drink, and you’re giving me sh—”

“Ahem!” our mother clears her throat pointedly.

“Crap.” Mom nods in approval, and I continue. “About it?” I place a palm flat against the center of my chest, feigning sadness. “Where’s the love?”

She shoves at me playfully. “You get enough love from all your admirers.”

Mom huffs. “You need to settle down with a nice woman.”

“Speaking of a nice woman…” I press my lips thin, trying to figure out how to best tell them I decided to use a matchmaking service, but decide to throw caution to the wind. “I hired a professional,” I blurt out.

As if in slow motion, my mother turns around slowly from where she’s stirring something on the stove. My sister’s jaw goes slack. And they both gape at me.

Just the reaction a guy wants.

My mother’s expression is horrified. Not quite what I was expecting, but then again, she’s always been a spitfire.

“Dax Allen Kendrick! I forbid it!”

I rear back, confused as hell. “Why would you forbid it?”

Her jaw drops, and she gasps indignantly. “Why would I forbid it?!” She turns to my sister, her voice increasing in volume. “Why would I forbid it?!”

“Say it again, Mom. Not sure we heard you the first time,” my sister deadpans.

If my mother didn’t have a freaking wooden spoon in her hand, I’d let out the laugh aching to break free. I got to know that sucker really well through my early years, and even though I’m older, I don’t put it past my mother to come at me with that thing.

Speaking of which, my right ass cheek starts to throb in remembrance at the mere sight of that spoon.

I hold up my hands. “Calm down, Mom.” Shit. I didn’t expect this reaction. “Look, she’s great at what she does and—”

The hand holding the wooden spoon rises another inch, and I flinch in response. “Don’t you tell me what she’s great at, young man!”

I look at my sister, silently pleading for help. She merely shrugs, wide-eyed, with an I don’t pretend to understand her look.

Great. I’m left to fend for myself once again.

“Can you just put that thing”—I gesture to the spoon in her hand—“down, so I can explain?”

My mother’s lips purse like she’s just bit into the sourest of lemons. Her eyes practically spew fire at me. “Fine.” Her tone is curt. “But you’re not too old to get swatted with it, young man,” she warns with a pointed look.

My hands fly to my ass protectively, and my sister snorts. I glare at her, and she simply sticks her tongue out at me in response.

Some things never change.

“Okay, so Ivy, Becket’s wife—”

My mother’s expression instantly softens. “Such a sweet girl, that one.” Then with a stern look, she adds, “You need to find someone like that.”

I draw in a deep breath, praying for patience. “Ivy’s business partner, Darcy, runs a matchmaking service and—” At the odd expression on my mother’s face, I stop. “What’s that look for?”

“Oh, honey.” She lets out a long sigh before spinning around to tend to the saucepan on the stove.

I stare at my sister expectantly. Her lips twitch as though she’s attempting to restrain a smile. I wave her on. “Say it.”

She snickers. “Mom thought when you said ‘professional,’ you meant prostitute.”

I whip around to stare at my mother. “Are you serious?!” What the hell? “You really think I’d hire a freaking prostitute?”

“Apparently so,” my sister chimes in with a smirk.

I toss up my hands in exasperation. “I can’t believe you think I’d resort to that.”

“Well,” my sister starts, “you have been single for a while.”

“That doesn’t mean I’d hire a prostitute for fu—” Mom’s head whips around in warning, and I correct myself quickly. “For God’s sake.”

“What’s a prostitute?”

Fucking hell. Violet’s just come back inside.

“Nothing.” That’s my mother’s response.

“A person who makes bad choices.” My sister’s no-nonsense response.

“A woman who sells—” This time, I really do get swatted with the wooden spoon. As if it doesn’t sting enough against my bare forearm, I now have a line of pasta sauce on it too.

I grin and make a show of licking the sauce off my skin. Mom hates that.

She raises the spoon threateningly, and I hold up my hands in surrender. “I just want to be loved. What’s a guy have to do to get some love these days?”

“Pretty sure you already know what you have to do to get some love,” my sister mutters under her breath.

I jab an index finger in her direction and give her a sharp look. “Watch it, or I’ll tell Mom who broke that angel statue she brought home from a garage sale.”

Ava’s expression morphs into astonishment. “You swore you’d never bring that up!” Her lips curve suddenly in a devious smile. “As long as I never tell Mom what happened to that pair of booty shorts she got you for twenty-five cents.”

“What shorts?” my mother asks.

I stare at her in complete disbelief. “Seriously? You’re more worried about the hideous shorts that put my junk on display than the statue she broke?”

My mother sputters. “But you said you loved those shorts!”

I glance up at the ceiling, hoping for divine intervention, which, of course, never comes. “Mom,” I say with exaggerated patience. “The shorts were cut so high I would’ve had to wax.”

“Well, you could’ve said so,” she huffs, turning back to the stove. “They were a great deal.”

“I’m sure they were a steal for a quarter.” My sister snickers at my sarcastic response, and we burst out laughing.

Our mom’s been a fan of garage sales for as far back as we can remember. Sometimes she brings home some decent stuff, but more often than not, it ends up being some hideous “treasure.”

Hence the shorts.

“You two are gonna get it!” Mom warns, raising that infamous wooden spoon once more.

Man, it’s good to be home.

About RC Boldt

RC Boldt enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she’s your girl. 


Connect with RC Boldt

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rcboldtauthor

Website: http://www.rcboldtbooks.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RC_Boldt

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rcboldt

 

Viking by Kylie Hillman

Today we have the release blitz for Kylie Hillman’s VIKING! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy of this fantastic new MC romance today!

Title: Viking

Author: Kylie Hillman

Genre: MC Romance

About Viking:

Why does forbidden fruit always taste the sweetest?

A filthy biker with a reputation for using his fists first and asking questions later, Victor “Viking” Kennedy wasn’t under the illusion that his marriage to Bonnie Dubois had the makings of a grand love affair. She was a prima ballerina—a snobby bitch who knew she was sex-on-legs. She was also ripe for a walk on the wild side with him.

Their understanding was mutual. A year-long fling that kept them both satisfied until she headed overseas to pursue her dancing career. It was good while it lasted. The perfect arrangement that took a wrong turn and ended with a surprise pregnancy followed by a shotgun wedding.

Nowadays, they’re just two parents doing their best to raise their son right. And, it was working until his VP’s teenage daughter sashayed her way into his life and turned everything on its head.

She’s off-limits.

 

An indiscretion punishable by death.

So why can’t Viking find a way to halt their growing connection?

 

Get Your Copy Today:

Amazon | iBooks | Kobo | Nook | Google Play

Extras:

Goodreads

Spotify Playlist

 

Exclusive Excerpt:

“Congratulations,” Alanah says as she passes me the sewing kit I’ll need to fix my new patches onto my cut. “You’ll be a great addition to the Club.”

I’m about to say thanks when she laughs. It’s a curious sound to hear in the current circumstances, and that’s enough to make me remove my gaze from where it’s drilling heated holes of hatred into the back of my dad’s head to meet her crystal-blue eyes.

Alanah lifts one shoulder and quips with the exact amount wryness required to make me forget how angry I am. “Well, it’s not like the bar’s set all that high for you so I can be pretty confident in my prediction.”

With the rest of the people who’ve attended our patch-in ceremony still voicing their outrage at my father’s behaviour, Brian’s little sister provides the perfect salve for my wounded pride. Her joke is what I need to hear—a humorous reminder that eclipsing my father isn’t what you’d call a challenge.

“You’re something else.” I say as I lay my arm across her shoulders and pull her into my side. “Don’t ever change.”

“Ditto,” Alanah replies without hesitation. Her pretty, blue eyes dance with delight. “And try to remember that you don’t have to be your father’s son.”

“Right back at ya. You’re nothing like your mother, Lani.”

I stare at her, unsure whether she’s going to appreciate my use of the nickname from her toddler years. She shows no signs of embarrassment. A slight widening of her eyes is all I get in return and it amuses me. In reality, no one should be this self-possessed at fourteen. It’s not fair to her that she’s missing out on the silly trials and tribulations of being a normal teen. I guess a shitty upbringing affects people in different ways. Some of us become an island, some of us fall into the numbness of drugs, while others become like Alanah.

Too mature and always eager to help.

The feeling of kinship created by our similar circumstances is responsible for what I do next. I know it’s wrong, even as I press my lips against her forehead. I brace for a reaction, only to be left hanging. Brian doesn’t launch himself at me for touching his little sister—no matter how innocent my action is—and, Alanah simply reaches up and squeezes my hand.

I open my mouth to say something—what I don’t know—except the moment is interrupted when Bonnie pushes in between us.

“Congratulations,” she purrs against my mouth seconds before her lips meet mine. I’m barely paying attention to her. I search for Alanah over her shoulder, just glimpsing her as she walks away from us without a backward glance. “Let’s celebrate.”

The music has been turned back up and the spirits in the room are lifting. Bonnie tries to drag me behind her to the dance floor, but I pull my hand from hers.

“Nah, I’ve got to do this first.” Holding the leather patches in the air, I buy myself some time to sort out my shit. “Be five minutes, tops.”

Bonnie begins to roll her eyes at me, which I expected since she doesn’t really understand the inner workings of the Black Shamrocks yet, then she stops. A strange look flits across her face which stops her mocking dead in its tracks. She steps back into my space and places a soft kiss on my cheek.

“You’re a good man, Vic.”

I spend a second watching Bonnie walk across the bar to Shari and Colleen. That was the strangest interaction I’ve ever had with her—and that’s saying something since the first time I fucked her, she was bent over my Harley in the carpark of her High School.

In broad fucking daylight.

Bonnie doesn’t do soft kisses on the cheek.

And, she sure as fuck, doesn’t tell anyone that they’re a good man.

“What was that all about?” Brian asks me the moment I approach the rest of them.

“Fuck knows.” I shake my head. “Just Bonnie being Bonnie.”

Wrong answer. Brian grabs the front of my shirt and hauls me toward him. “Not Bonnie, fuck face. Alanah. Who. The. Fuck. Said. You. Could. Kiss. Her?”

“Come on,” Cole protests before I can. “It was nothing.”

He pushes his big body between me and Brian with ease. He’s a protector, through and through. Proving that his dad named him correctly, unlike mine.

How the fuck did I end up dubbed ‘Viking’?

“Yeah?” Brian tries to push around Colin. His previous drugged out state has been replaced by misdirected anger. “Didn’t look like nothin’ to me.”

I step out of his way, holding my hands in the air. “Man, I swear to you. I was just saying thank you to her for making me laugh.”

He pauses, seeming to ponder my explanation. Something clicks in his head and he steps around Colin. Our giant friend regards him with suspicion but lets him pass.

“Dude,” Brian puts his arms around me and slaps me on the back with one hand. “I shoulda realised you’re upset about your dad.”

I revise my previous assessment of how high he still is. There’s no way he’d be hugging me if he wasn’t off his head more than I assumed. Brian usually shies away from any physical contact that doesn’t include fighting or fucking.

“He’s a dick, but it’s not like it’s the first time.” I tried to move away from him.

Brian refuses to let go. I try to pull away again. He steps back just far enough that he can stare me in the eyes. His pupils aren’t as dilated as they were earlier, although they’re still bigger than they should be. But that’s not what catches my attention and stops me from trying to get out of his grasp.

It’s the deadly intent that I read in his gaze that halts me.

“I’ll let you get away with it this one time. Touch Alanah again and I’ll kill you,” Brian states, with bare honesty. He sweeps a hand through the air, gesturing to the room we’re in. “She’s destined for more than this. She deserves more than this and I’m not letting you, or anyone like you, stop her from reaching her potential.”

Rage rushes through me. It pounds like waves in rough surf, back and forth, rising and fall, all in an instant. Rushing to the fore as I realise that he’s basically called me trash, then receding a moment later when it hits me that Brian’s right.

I’m not from good stock.

And he, better than anyone, knows it.

Doesn’t mean he gets a free pass for saying it to my face.

“Fuck you,” I enunciate with precision. “And fuck anyone else who thinks I’m unworthy. I’m not interested in Alanah like that, but if I was, no one would get in my way. I’m not my father and I refuse to dance in his shadow for the rest of my life. I am more than capable of making a run for VP, or even President if I choose.”

Shari and Bonnie come into view. They both seem happy, giggling and dancing about, all that shit girls do when they want to be centre of attention. Brian sees them when I do and steps out of my space. He inclines his head once—it’s both acknowledgement and a threat.

“Yeah?” he asks in a mocking tone. My arms feel heavy with the need to wipe the sneer off his face. “We’ll see about that, Viking.

 

For a limited time, CONAN, the first book in Kylie’s BLACK SHAMROCKS: FIRST GENERATION series is free!

 

Get Your Copy:

Amazon | Audiobook | Paperback | iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play | Goodreads

About Conan:

“You know how the story ends. Now, it’s time to learn how it all began as Conan, Viking, Butch, Lenny, Doc, and the perennial bad guy, Beast finally have their say.”

The first book in the brand-new spin off to the International Bestselling Black Shamrocks MC series is finally here!

Prospecting for the Black Shamrocks MC once Colin “Conan” Blake finished school was a no-brainer.

His best friends were prospecting.

His father was a ranking member.

Hell, every man he knew was part of the MC.

The only thing the Club wanted in return for a lifetime of brotherhood was unquestioning loyalty. It was that straightforward. Patching in meant he vowed to put the needs of the Black Shamrocks in front of everything else—even his own desires.

He thought it would be easy.

He was certain nothing could come between him and his brothers.

That was until he met her.

WARNING: This book contains depictions of graphic situations and is not suitable for all readers.

 

About Kylie Hillman:

Kylie Hillman is an International Bestselling Author who lives in South Australia. After spending the past fifteen years regularly moving around the east coast of Australia, she has recently returned to her home state and plans to finally put down roots until her children finish school.

 

Wife to a Harley-riding, boating and fishing, four-wheel driving, quintessential Aussie bloke and mum to two crazy, adorable, and eccentric kids, Kylie is also a Crohn’s Disease sufferer and awareness campaigner. When she’s not writing, she can be found sipping tea while she literally “Netflix and Chills” or sharing her appreciation for heavy metal and hard rock music with her neighbours. As a devotee to the use of sarcasm and inappropriate innuendo, it is for the best that she chooses to venture outside her home only on special occasions.

 

Kylie is represented by Sarah Hershman of Hershman Rights Management.

 

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Jennifer’s review of Dares, Lies and Geminis by Kat Alexander

received_1645942628771341Title: Dares, Lies and Geminis

Author: Kat Alexander

Genre: romance, dark themes, suspense, thriller

Stars: 4🛍🛍🛍🛍

Dares, Lies and Geminis was a good read. I enjoyed the story, writing style and mostly enjoyed the characters. The way the story was told, with different POV chapters worked really well with this type of story. I felt it was easier for me to follow and keep up with what was going on. This was a book that took me on so many twists and turns I lost myself. I was emotional, shocked and questioning everything. I recommend this for someone who is in the mood for something different and a bit darker.
received an advanced copy

 Ready for the next Sniper 1 Security? 

Then check out Nicole’s latest release – Tomorrow’s Too Late, book 3 of the Sniper 1 Security series!

Tomorrow’s Too Late
Nicole Edwards
Description:
A man with a painful past.
Hunter Kogan is no
stranger to pain. For the past five years, he has been in a downward spiral,
his days dark and grey. He spends most of his waking hours stumbling through,
hating every second, wishing he didn’t even exist.
A woman with a secret.
Danielle Davidson was
born with a secret, one she knows should never get out. That very secret was
what had her running from the only man she’s ever loved. But it seems someone
has figured it out, and they want her dead because of it.
A man who can save them both.
Kye Sterling knows Hunter
has a troubled past. He knows someone hurt the man, which is the very reason he
doesn’t mind getting close, wanting to ease Hunter’s pain in the only way he
knows how. Not that it’s working. Nothing seems to be working.
When Max Adorite comes to
Sniper 1 Security seeking personal protection for his cousin Danielle, the
world as Hunter and Kye know it will forever be changed. 

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Can the three of them
figure out the threat to Dani before a madman gets his revenge? Can Hunter
finally move out of the past and get the answers he so desperately needs? Or
will he end up pushing away the two people who could pull him out of the
darkness and into the light?

Amazon –> http://geni.us/cALnFiBooks –> http://geni.us/Jv60Barnes&Noble –> http://bit.ly/NEttlBN Google –> http://bit.ly/NEttlGPKobo –> http://bit.ly/NEttlKOBO Add to Goodreads –> http://bit.ly/2D5iuXi

 

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Jennifer’s review of Still Life by Isobel Hart

received_1645942628771341Title: Still Life

Author: Isobel Hart

Genre: romance, sci-fi

Stars: 3.5 🛍🛍🛍🛍

I’m going to give this book 3.5 stars because I loved the idea behind this book and truly enjoyed about the first half of this book. First I will say that this is a romance and not science fiction. There are bits that touch on sci-fi in this book. I enjoyed the beginning of the story very much. It was a fast paced start with seemingly interesting characters. I loved that the story just started with some crazy things happening. As the story went on I had a hard time staying really interested in what was happening. I was hoping for sci-fi medical or aliens. I really didn’t want a sort of romance at the time. I also had an absolute dislike of Samantha. She is way too judgemental towards the other women. It made me sad that not only was she a completely different person from the beginning of the story but I couldn’t find even one thing to like about her. If you enjoy romance with a touch of science fiction this might be a good book for you.
received an advanced copy