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Monday, February 20, 2017

TRSOR Promotions Presents: Hero Hair by Rachel Robinson; #CoverReveal, #ComingSoon

Hero Hair
by Rachel Robinson
The second novel of The Real Seal Series
Release Date:  March 16th


Everyone knows there is no “I” in team, but to Macs Newstead--orgasm-gifting, muscle-filled Navy SEAL hero--there are more important words than team. Words like victory and vanity and selfishness. People say those words like they are a bad thing, but to Macs, they’re simply tools in his highly effective arsenal. When a man’s entire existence revolves around the necessity to end lives, silly, mundane things like second dates or monogamy seem worthy sacrifices.

Downward facing dog or doggy-style--it’s all the same to Teala Smart, a whip-smart yoga instructor. She owns her studio like she owns her life--with focus, positive energy, and pure devotion. That devotion, however, does not trickle into her love life (or more accurately, her lust life.) Relationships are a roadblock to her success. They get in the way and tangle up emotions more than the lotus pose tangles up limbs. Men are best kept just for a night and then released into the wild before feelings get too messy.

HERO HAIR, the second novel of International Bestselling Author Rachel Robinson’s THE REAL SEAL SERIES, is the account of an life-altering journey detailing the awakening of two hollow hearts, both set on taking their own pleasures without any emotional attachment. The ruthless SEAL finally meets an enemy he can’t defeat, and both Macs and Teala find, against their wishes, and despite atrocious circumstances, a chemistry so explosive it leaves nothing but deconstructing love in its wake.

Add to your TBR:


rachel robinson bio.jpg
About the Author:

Rachel grew up in a small, quiet town full of loud talkers. Her words were always only loud on paper. She has been writing stories and creating characters for as long as she can remember. After living on the west coast for many years she recently moved to Virginia Beach, VA.

Stalk Rachel here:  



Tasty Book Tours Presents: Whisper of Love by Melissa Foster; #BlogTour, #NowAvailable, #Review, #Giveaway

For the first time in years, Nash wants to let a woman into his world,  but while his loss made him stronger, that strength came at a price.

The Bradens - Peaceful Harbor, MD #5
Melissa Foster
Releasing Feb 22, 2017
World Literary Press
Rating:  5 Stars

Disclosure of Material Connection:  I received this book for review from Tasty Book Tours, the publisher, and the author.  I was not compensated nor was I required to write a positive review.  The opinions I have expressed are my own.  I am posting this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255:  "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising".

Tempest Braden adores her family and her small hometown, but sometimes too much of a good thing can be confining. At almost thirty, having watched most of her siblings find true love, she’s anxious to experience her own happily ever after, and the move to Pleasant Hill, Maryland, is just the change she needs. When she rents a room from ruggedly handsome, and closed-off, artist Nash Morgan and his adorable son, Phillip, she thinks she’s found a little slice of heaven on the outskirts of town, where she can concentrate on building her business. That is, if she can ignore the undeniable heat between her and the sinfully hot single father.

When Nash bought his farmette, he had one goal in mind—to provide a loving, stable home for his son. He never imagined he’d be raising Phillip alone, or renting out a room to keep their heads above water. Then again, he never imagined losing his brother, or spending two years sailing around the world with parents who seemed to forget one son was still alive. 

Sparks fly from the moment Tempest moves in, and her positive energy and inquisitive nature brings new life into Nash and Phillip’s quiet, confined world. For the first time in years, Nash wants to let a woman into his world, but while his loss made him stronger, that strength came at a price, leaving him walled off and wary of opening his heart again.

Even though this story is not told in the first person, you’ll have no trouble knowing what these two are thinking.  From the time I was introduced to “Flip”, I couldn’t seem to put the book down.  There were times where I had no choice but it was really, really tough.  You may also fall under their spell.

This is a book where it’s ok to open yourself up – to new beginnings, new experiences, and to just be able to open up to someone else.  There’s always pain in life – there’s no getting away from it.  But we need other people to help us deal with that pain.  It never goes away but the right people make it bearable.  The longer we keep people out, the harder it becomes to let them in.

What I love about this author is that in some ways her stories are so relatable.  You can picture people actually living the lives pictured here.  They live in places that you want to visit or at least to run away to for a little while.  Another thing I love is that sex isn’t needed in order to fall in love with her story.  For me, it was a combination of the story building, the flow from one chapter to the next, and the connection our main characters had that made me fall in love with Whisper of Love and make it one of those books that I would read again and again.

Nash Morgan shifted his three-year-old son, Phillip, onto his hip and reached behind him to shut the gate. The chickens scurried away amid cackles and mad wing flaps. He set Phillip on the ground, and his son shook his head, shrugging like he’d been doing this for twenty years and couldn’t believe the chickens still ran from them. He ruffled his boy’s springy dark curls, drawing a serious, expectant look and an outstretched hand from Phillip. Nash loved his little man’s eagerness to get started on their evening chores. He handed him a smaller bucket from inside his larger one and nodded toward the coop.
Phillip returned the nod and clomped his booted feet into the coop to collect the eggs. Nash adjusted his baseball cap, listening as Phillip counted off each egg with an “Mm-hm.”
He drew in a deep breath, hoping, for the millionth time, that he was doing enough for his son. He was the only parent Phillip had. Or rather, the only one who wanted him, a fact that never failed to grate on him like nails dragging along a chalkboard. His cell phone rang and Larry Robert’s number flashed on the screen. Nash uttered a curse. Larry owned a gallery in North Carolina, and he’d given Nash his first big break. A break that could have carried him to a lifetime of success. But after Phillip was born he’d been unable to keep up with the demands of custom orders. Larry was opening another gallery in Virginia, and he wanted to feature Nash’s work. Nash had turned him down, but Larry was persistent.
Swallowing the acidic taste of disappointment, he let the call go to voicemail and looked across the yard at the barn, which served as his workshop for the furniture he made and sold in town. He’d long ago locked up his metalworking and wood-sculpting workshop and stored his unfinished work. Gallery-worthy pieces, if he ever had the time to finish them. Pipe dreams. He’d had them, even made them a reality for a while. But that was a long time ago, and there was no sense thinking about something that could never be—at least not until Phillip was much older.
He ducked into the coop and checked the chickens’ food and water. Scanning the nesting beds, he snatched up the few eggs Phillip had missed. Phillip leaned against Nash’s leg and yawned. Nash couldn’t imagine anyone not loving their child with all their heart, but Phillip’s mother, Alaina, had taken off three months after their son was born, and other than receiving official documents releasing her from her parental rights, he hadn’t heard from her since. Not a day passed that he didn’t worry about the long-term effects her leaving would have on his son.
“Good job, Phillip.” He said his son’s name so fast it came out sounding like “Flip.” He set down his bucket, wrapped his arms around his boy, and whispered in his ear, “I love you, little dude.” He kissed his cheek and scooped him up, earning the sweetest giggle known to man.
Nash grabbed the buckets and headed for the goat pen. Big and Little, the two goats, trailed behind them as Phillip followed Nash through the process of checking their food and water and sweeping out the goat house, as he did every night. Phillip wiggled the nozzle of the water pipe, just as Nash had, mimicking his “Hm.” Nash tossed a cup of oats in the food bin and waited while Phillip did the same. Big nibbled on Phillip’s shirt, and Phillip leaned down and kissed his head.
“C’mon, buddy.” Nash had grown up in rural Virginia. Most of his friends had lived on farms, and he had no doubt that caring for animals would help Phillip learn responsibility. Not to mention that his son adored all types of animals, from squirrels to goats to worms. That was just fine with Nash. In his experience, animals were a lot more trustworthy than people.
The sound of tires on gravel drew his attention. He scooped Phillip into his arms, locked the goat pen, and grabbed the buckets.
“Visitor,” he said, carrying Phillip toward the house and eyeing the Prius parking behind his old Ford pickup truck. His truck was a gas guzzler, but as much as he hated that, he needed the bed of the truck to haul the furniture he made into town. He hoped Tempest Braden, the woman coming to see the room he was renting out, wasn’t a preachy tree hugger. Hell, he hoped she would turn out to be the silent type so he could pretend she didn’t live in their house.  
Phillip’s brows knitted, his hands firmly planted around Nash’s neck. He wasn’t used to visitors. The last several people who had come to see the room they had for rent hadn’t been the kind of people Nash wanted around his son. They’d rubbed him the wrong way—too aggressive, too loud, too shady, too flighty. He just needed a stable, responsible person to rent the room so he could afford to upgrade a few of his tools and start saving for Phillip’s future. He tightened his grip on his son and headed up to meet the tall blonde stepping from the car.
Her wispy skirt fluttered around her knees. Large pink roses with muted green leaves looked as if they’d been thrown onto the flimsy white material haphazardly. A fringe of lace lined the edges. On anyone else the flouncy, floral skirt might look immature. But her legs went on forever, and coupled with her tight, curve-hugging tank top, she looked like Sweet and Sexy collided at the corner of Sinful Temptation.

Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance, and women's fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa's emotional journeys are lovingly erotic, perfect beach reads, and always family oriented. 

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IndieSage PR Presents: Distracting the Duke by Elizabeth Keysian; #BlogTour, #NowAvailable, #ReleaseBlitz, #Giveaway

Distracting the Duke
by Elizabeth Keysian
Publication Date: February 20, 2017
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Select, Historical Romance


Devonshire, England, 1820

Determined to avoid the strife-filled marriage of his parents, Marcus, the Duke of Ulvercombe, wants an amenable, biddable wife, and has set his cap for a certain pretty miss. Unfortunately, her vastly opinionated, frustrating, and lamentably beautiful guardian, Lady Clara Tinniswood, keeps distracting him, tempting him to consider a far more tempestuous—and passionate—union.

Recently widowed Lady Clara Tinniswood wants only to organize a quiet new life for herself, beyond the control of any man. But one shockingly unguarded moment while confronted by Marcus’s gloriously naked body catapults her headlong into a forbidden passion and threatens to undermine all her well-laid plans.

Even if Marcus abandons his sweet ideal and surrenders to his growing desire for Clara, there’s one unalterable issue which could destroy their hopes forever…




Worn out by the effort of restraining his wayward thoughts and trying to both battle with and be polite to Lady Clara, Marcus turned back to his inhaling.
A few minutes later, he heard someone bring in the items they'd asked for. After taking in a few more soothing lungfuls of steam, he lifted the towel and turned round.
His mouth went dry. Clara had just pulled the neck of her gown away from her breasts and was blowing down the front of it.
"I would be most happy to assist you with that," he murmured before he realized what he was saying.
Good God, was he really trying to flirt with this woman, in his current pitiful state?
She removed her hand immediately and gave him a quelling look. "You're supposed to be steaming yourself. Pray continue, for the sooner you're done, the sooner we can conclude our business."
Unabashed, he ran the towel over his face and hair, and remarked, "I'm done now."
It really was getting horribly hot in here, but he needed to sweat out the fever if he could. He was so weary, too. The bed looked very tempting. How was he going to get rid of Clara so he could lie down and sleep?
"Are you still determined to remain in this room until I change my mind about the duel?" he asked.
She clasped her hands tightly together. "I am."
"Then you may wish to turn away."
To hell with the compromising position he was placing himself in. She was not a conniving miss out to trap him into marriage, and he was about to fall over from exhaustion.
He stood up, grasped the edges of his nightshirt, and pulled it up and over his head. Casting it on the floor, he padded across to the bed, slid beneath the linens, and glanced at Clara to gauge her reaction.
Her hands were over her eyes, but he knew she'd been looking at him. Her cheeks, visible between her fingers, were bright scarlet. Had he not had a sore throat, he'd have laughed outright.
There. Maybe she'd see sense and leave right now.
His foot came into contact with her bottom as he eased himself down the length of the bed, and she shot up like a jack-in-the-box, propelling herself speedily across the room.
"Come now, spare me your blushes," he drawled as she peeped at him between her fingers. "You're a widow. You know what a man looks like without clothes on."
She removed her hands slowly, her eyes flickering over his bare chest and shoulders before they came to rest on his face once more. "If you mean to scare me away, you won't succeed," she said. "A man's naked... A man's naked—"
She swallowed, poured herself another cupful of water, and drank it down so fast some of it escaped and trickled down the front of her bodice. He watched its progress with avid interest.
He coughed, then coughed again. Damn this chill! Why did his body have to let him down when he wanted to appear in perfect control?


Elizabeth Keysian felt destined to write historical romance due to her Cornish descent, and an ancestral connection to the Norse god Odin. Being an only child gave her plenty of time to read, create imaginary worlds, produce her own comics, and write sketches and a deplorably bad musical for an amateur dramatics group.

Three decades spent working in museums and archaeology fired Elizabeth’s urge to write, as did living on a Knights Templar estate, with a garage full of skeletons, a resident ghost and a moat teeming with newts.

Elizabeth lives near Bath in England with her partner and cats.

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