Saturday, September 30, 2017
Shape of My Heart
Genre: Contemporary/Sports Romance
Now Live on Amazon
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What happens when the cocky, bad boy football player meets his match?
Josh Mancini, star linebacker for the Gladiators, has had an incredible lifetime of excellence as a highly-valued football player. He knows he’s good at the game, and he would never deny that he’s an arrogant, first-class jerk that always has the best women at his side.
Then Josh’s life is turned upside down by a tragic accident, and he spirals into alcoholism, loose women, and self-loathing that threatens to end his career for good—and maybe his life.
The very last thing he thinks he needs is Amy, his new personal assistant, a woman tasked with whipping him into shape for the upcoming football season. Soon, his attraction to her makes the situation even worse. He wants to get rid of her, but there’s one small problem… he needs her.
A series of female giggles pierced the silence. She looked upstairs to where the sound resonated and saw two women in barely there bikini’s running down the steps. Behind them was Joshua Mancini himself wearing a pair of shorts and a black t-shirt. He was chasing the women.
Amy geared herself up to meet her new employer. Even if she was appalled at the state of the house she had to make that first impression a good one.
As he got closer she saw that he was truly handsome indeed with his sleek muscle and untamed pride. What she saw online was totally drool-worthy, but those images had nothing on the real-life Joshua Mancini who was six feet six, extremely well built with a ridged wall of a chest that bulged against the soft fabric of his t- shirt. He was breathtaking to look at with his black shiny, spiky hair, tanned skin and piercing eyes with an unusual mix of blue and green.
Turquoise. That was the color. It was turquoise like the sea in somewhere like the Caribbean. Not that she’d ever been, but she’d seen enough pictures.
He was the kind of man that made you want to stare, even against your will. She quickly adjusted herself and her focus. It would do her no good to go all girlie weak-kneed and turn into some babbling buffoon in front of him. She had to look professional.
He looked her over with appreciation as he made his descent down the stairs and stopped a few paces away from her, making her feel like a dwarf even in her heels that added an extra two inches to her mere five feet and four inches. The women joined him and giggled as they tried to fix each other’s hair.
“Good, the stripper’s here,” he said with a wide smile that revealed super gorgeous dimples in his exotic high cheek bones. It took her a second or two to realize that he was referring to her.
“No, no I’m from the agency,” she replied quickly.
“I’m Amy, your new PA.” That was when he looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. “If you could just point me in the direction of the office I’ll get started.”
There, that was professional.
To her surprise, however, he started to laugh. It was the usual sort of off balanced laughter you’d expect from someone who was truly wasted and didn’t know what they were even laughing at.
“Those people are jokers.”
“This is no joke. I’ll take care of all your paperwork and everything.” She offered a smile.
“Ha, ha. Everything? Well you can start in there.” He set his square jaw in a firm line and pointed to the mess in the living room. “Clean that up will you.”
Her mouth dropped. She attempted to protest but he just walked away, leaving her there to gawk at the crazy mess.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Khardine Gray is the author of such acclaimed romances as Shape of My Heart, Complete Me and Hearts Entwined. She writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense.
Her books have drool worthy heroes who will make you melt, and sassy, fun loving, ambitious heroines. She loves writing and simply adore her readers.
She’s from the Caribbean but currently lives in England with her husband and two kids.
When not writing you can catch her ice skating or dancing at a Samba class.
Keep up with all the new releases by signing up to her mailing list HERE
Friday, September 29, 2017
We are super excited to reveal today the stunning cover of
THE FLIGHT OF HOPE by USA Today Bestselling Author HJ Bellus!
A Standalone Contemporary Romance set to release October 26th.
PRE-ORDER AVAILABLE NOW
Cover Designer: Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs
Cover Model: Shailey Collier
A tragic accident. A mother in mourning. Can a second chance rise from the wreckage?
Marlee Foster’s life was just getting started. She couldn’t wait for the return of her husband from deployment. After all, he’d be there just in time for the birth of their daughter. The welcome home party is full of joy, but on the way home, tragedy strikes…
When Marlee loses her husband and daughter, her friends and family do their best to heal her broken heart. But painful reminders of a future she’ll never see haunt her every day in the small town. Her only hope at a second chance is to leave it all behind…
As she sets out on a soul-searching adventure, the mourning widow wonders if the wilderness will give her hope for a brighter future or if she’ll forever be chained to a devastating past. During her journey, Marlee is about to learn that love has a funny way of coming back to those who need it the most…
The Flight of Hope is a heart-wrenching contemporary romance in the vein of Nicholas Sparks. If you like emotional journeys, strong-willed heroines, and second chance romances, then you’ll love HJ Bellus’ touching tale.
Buy The Flight of Hope to settle in with a tear-jerker today!
ADD TO YOUR TBR ON GOODREADS:
HJ Bellus is a small town girl who loves the art of storytelling. When not making readers laugh or cry, she's a part-time livestock wrangler that can be found in the middle of Idaho, shot gunning a beer while listening to some Miranda Lambert on her Beats and rocking out in her boots.
On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.
Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.
But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?
It feels so good.
I couldn’t do it. I wanted to do it because he kissed with such passion and such aggression that I felt like every single bone in my body was saying, Rosie, this is a table, just lie down and let him have you. But this was Max. My Max. I didn’t kiss Max; I needed Max. But now here I was, liquored up on way-more-than-two margaritas, and losing all my freaking common sense.
Summoning up all my strength, and resisting the gravitational pull of the pool table too, I pushed him away. I turned away and slipped off the rail. I grabbed my purse from the hook underneath the corner pocket and hustled for the door. I could hear Max saying my name, I knew he was trying to make a grab for me, but I had to get out of there. The taste of him had been intoxicating, disorienting.
It had been heaven. And he could not be my heaven.
He was the gallon of Rocky Road I should not have. He was the box of chocolates I should not eat.
So without saying goodbye to Fletcher, without even paying my part of our tab, I beat a quick exit for the door, or I tried to anyway. The place was packed, and I had to squirm my way through a whole slew of enormous fishermen, all broad shoulders and barrel chests, like extras from some Viking documentary kicking back after a long day of Hollywood pillage and plunder. Each step was perilous, all their steel-toed boots mere inches from crunching my bare toes. Finally, I did get to the exit and hurled myself out of the door into the dark quiet of the gravel parking lot. Chirping crickets and the buzz of a slowly dying Summer Shandy sign filled the air. The hot air of the bar was swept away by the warm breeze off the water. I inhaled hard, trying to clear my head.
My mind spinning and my feathers decidedly ruffled, I grabbed my keys and tottered to my Bug. But no sooner had I put my key in the lock than the bar door squeaked open and there was Max, coming for me. “No fucking way,” he said, pulling my keys from my hand. “Don’t you dare, Rosie. Don’t you dare.”
It hadn’t even occurred to me what I was doing. I couldn’t drive, for God’s sake. I wasn’t tumble-down drunk, but I was far too tipsy to be going anywhere at all. So I went for Plan B and started to march down the street.
“What are you going to do? Walk?”
“It’s not that far!” I swatted a huge mosquito that had attached itself to my arm like a jungle dart. “What is it, three miles? Four?” I flapped my hand in the air to say, It’s nothing! But honestly, I don’t think I’d ever walked three miles in my life. I’d have to call a cab. I’d have to hitchhike. Still though, still!
Max grabbed my hand and spun me into him. Our bodies collided, and I became acutely aware of his brawn. “Seven miles. Jesus. Let me take you home at least,” he said, his voice all growly and sexy and…
“I don’t want you out here by yourself,” Max said. “It’s not safe.”
“It’s Maine, for God’s sake! What’s going to happen? A moose going to mug me?”
“I know what these mosquitos do to you.” He swept his big, rough hand over my bare arm, letting his fingers move lightly along the bend in my elbow.
My breath got caught up in my throat. It was like a hiccup interrupted a cough. For the first time, I understood what it meant to have someone’s touch light you on fire. And not just that either: the kiss was still lingering, the taste of him still on my lips. Sweet and salty. Delicious. He trailed his fingers down the inside of my forearm and back up again. As proof of the fact he’d made alphabet soup of my brain, all I could think to say was, “I don’t know why they never bite you.”
He laughed a little and smiled as he stepped into me. “Because you’re way fucking sweeter.”
He kept his hand there, on my arm, and his other cradled me at the small of my back. Even in the semidarkness, I could see him perfectly, because I knew everything about him. His rarely seen right dimple, his smile lines, the salt and pepper that was starting to show in his sideburns. The necklace with half my name on it. The curve of his delicious bum. Even in the dark, I knew him. Even in the dark, I wanted him. But even in the dark, I knew it was a terrible idea.
So I stepped back again.
He raised his hands up, like a surrender. “Get in my truck. I won’t touch you.” The gravel crunched under his feet as he moved even farther away. He ran his hand through his hair and reached for his keys. “I’ll be good.”
Nicola Rendell writes dirty romantic comedy. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She grew up in Taos, New Mexico; after receiving a handful of degrees from a handful of places, she now works as a professor in New England. An Amazon bestseller, her work has been featured in USA Today's Happy Ever After and the Huffington Post. She is represented by Emily Sylvan Kim at the Prospect Agency.