Wednesday, January 18, 2017

#Excerpt: SCORCH ROAD by Toby Neal and Emily Kimelman


Scorch Road
Toby Neal & Emily Kimelman
(Scorch Series, #1)
Publication date: January 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance, Thriller

For fans of romance thriller suspense and family romance series, comes a new romantic action adventure!

One of five brothers and a sister, JT Luciano is a widowed environmental biologist with a touch of the Sight who is preparing for an apocalyptic event he knows is coming. Holed up at his military survival camp named the Haven, prepared for his family, JT is ready for whatever might come… except for one woman.

Elizabeth Johnson, virologist and Senator’s daughter, is carrying precious cells for a vaccine against the swiftly-evolving, deadly flu that’s sweeping the nation. Her plane crashes in JT’s potato field—and she must convince him to leave his safe haven and help her get to Washington, DC.

One by one, the structures of society implode in the face of the flu’s devastation as JT and Elizabeth travel a scorching road cross country. Danger brings them together to find one good, true thing in a changing world.

Help Pick The Cover Design for the first book in the new “Scorch Romantic Thriller Series” by bestselling authors Toby Neal and Emily Kimelman!
From Toby & Emily:
We are dying to hear your thoughts! We love both these covers but want to know what YOU think. Which one just screams “Romantic Thriller”?
To show our gratitude for sharing your opinion with us we are offering everyone who votes a free copy of the first book in this smoking hot new series, “Scorch Road.”
We can’t wait to see what you think!


Author Bio:
Kirkus Reviews calls Neal's writing, "persistently riveting. Masterly."
Award-winning, USA Today bestselling social worker turned author Toby Neal grew up on the island of Kaua`i in Hawaii. Neal is a mental health therapist, a career that has informed the depth and complexity of the characters in her stories. Neal's police procedurals, starring multicultural detective Lei Texeira, explore the crimes and issues of Hawaii, and are so popular that they've spawned a licensed fan fiction world on Amazon.
Neal focuses on mystery but also writes romance, YA, and memoir.
Receive one of her books, full-length, award-winning Torch Ginger, by signing up for her email list at http://tobyneal.net/

Author links:
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter
--

Emily Kimelman is the author of eight mysteries in her best selling Sydney Rye Series about a brave female protagonist and her giant dog, Blue. Emily also writes dystopian, paranormal romances under the name E.J. Kimelman. A traveler, mother and all around bad ass chick, Emily is always happy to hear from readers. Connect with her on Twitter @ejkimelman, Facebook, and at her website www.emilykimelman.com. Visit Emily’s website and sign up for her Readers’ Group to receive four FREE ebooks including the first book in her Sydney Rye Series, UNLEASHED. You’ll also get special offers, new release announcements and more.

Author links:
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

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Monday, January 16, 2017

Celebrating MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR, "I Have a Dream"

 
Martin Luther King Jr. was born on January 15, 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. King, both a Baptist minister and civil-rights activist, had a seismic impact on race relations in the United States, beginning in the mid-1950s. Among many efforts, King headed the SCLC. Through his activism, he played a pivotal role in ending the legal segregation of African-American citizens in the South and other areas of the nation, as well as the creation of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. 

King received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964, among several other honors. King was assassinated in April 1968, and continues to be remembered as one of the most lauded African-American leaders in history, often referenced by his 1963 speech, "I Have a Dream."

QUOTES:
"I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the promised land."
– Martin Luther King Jr.

Full text of "I Have A Dream" Speech, August 28, 1963:


I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.
But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."


#Excerpt: THE PRODUCER by Aubrey Parker


Trillionaire Boys’ Club: The Producer
Aubrey Parker
Publication date: January 10th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

These hot, powerful men don’t impress me.
I’m not new to this secret club of billionaires. I know all about their Syndicate … and even some of their plans to control the world. I’m Alyssa Friggin’ Galloway, publicity genius, and I’ve dealt with all of them: Nathan Turner, who built the Boys’ Club, and even the insufferable Ashton Moran.

They’re all the same: all arrogance and bluster, using women like disposable things. I’m immune to their charms.

So why does the worst of the worst … Cole Freaking Ellison … intrigue me so much?

To stay afloat with all these MEN, I need to be tough. So I hold my ground. But Cole? He sees right through me to the vulnerable thing beneath.

Cole wants to control me. He wants to use me for his own pleasure.

And against all judgment, I want to let him.

The Producer is part of the Trillionaire Boys’ Club series by Aubrey Parker. Each book tells the story of one of the Club’s powerful members … and you’re going to want to collect them all.

EXCERPT:
Alyssa’s lips purse to laugh, but I’m not kidding. I’ve never done anything precisely like this before, and that newness makes the errand feel dire and serious. I want her. I will have her. I’m not willing to wait, and if Alyssa doesn’t like the disorder caused by my early arrival? Well, she doesn’t need to be in charge of everything all the time, does she?
I walk closer, wondering at my own actions. Not caring. Only feeling the need that’s been burning within me all day while thinking about her.
I’m an edge-walker, but not usually this devious.
Today is different. Today I’m like a criminal, bent on achieving my need through any means necessary. So I called her assistant, Susanne, and told her I was from UPS and that there was an oversized package she needed to sign for. When the assistant left the office, I sneaked in behind her and locked her out. I’m sure she can call the superintendent or someone to let her back in, but that’ll take time. She could cut to the chase and call Alyssa, but her boss won’t be answering phones for a while.
She’ll be otherwise occupied.
Unable to speak.
“Cole …”
A sentence without a predicate. She doesn’t know what to say.
At least not anything more than my name.
“Let’s cut the shit,” I tell her.
Alyssa looks frozen in place. Ravishing. I got hard the moment I decided not to wait until four. Now I’m throbbing. I want her. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since that text.
I’ll try hard to prepare myself.
It turns me on, knowing she’s thinking about me. Alyssa comes off as such a straight-laced girl. A total pro. She wears her sensible girl suits with her sensible girl skirts that never rise immodestly high. Heels that are common but understatedly sexy, if you know where to look. She wears her hair like she’s going to court, but all I can think of is shaking it loose. Her features are always so hard, but if you pay attention it’s easy to see just how breathtakingly beautiful she is.
Once you know Alyssa for a while, you start thinking that she’s sexless. But one couched text, with its barely-there innuendo, was enough to shatter that impression. Yesterday morning could have caught her off guard. Our encounter on the bathroom floor might have been a one-time thing she’d instantly regret. But her text changed that. It made me see, through the thinnest of cracks in her frozen facade, that Alyssa isn’t a robot.
Now I know she’s truly a woman, with desires to match my own.
My cock strains against its confinement. I watch her chest rise and fall; her nipples push against her silky white blouse. She’s breathing long and slow through moist, gently parted lips. Her eyes stay on mine, hungry under her reservations.
“Let’s stop bullshitting each other and fuck like animals.”
“You need to leave.”
“You don’t want me to leave,” I say, shaking my head. “So tell me. Forget about what’s proper for once, and tell me what you really want.”
Her eyes flick toward the door. I’ve locked that one, too, same as the outer door her assistant is probably already finding closed.
“Say it, Alyssa.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Say you’ve been thinking about me.”
Alyssa says nothing.
“Say you’ve been wet all day, waiting for four to come.”
She swallows. I step closer. I move around the desk. Alyssa looks for all the world like she’s about to startle and flee. But she doesn’t go. Instead she lets me walk up next to her, close enough to smell. She says nothing as my hands run up her sides, as I brush her hair away from her long neck. She tips her head sideways, just a little. I can’t see her eyes from behind, but I imagine them closing.
Say the truth,” I whisper into her ear.
“I want you.”

Author Bio:
I love to write stories with characters that feel real enough to friend on Facebook, or slap across the face. I write to make you feel, think, and burn with the thrill that can only come from getting lost in the pages. I love to write unforgettable characters who wrestle with life's largest problems. My books may always end with a Happily Ever After, but there will always be drama on the way there.


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Thursday, January 12, 2017

#Book Tour Blast: SONORA by T.S. Hall


Sonora and the Eye of the Titans
T.S. Hall
Publication date: January 14th 2017
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Young Adult

The King is dead, and the capital city of Titanis has fallen. The world of Sonora is at war, and the only hope against the onslaught of the Titan army lies with the last royal decedent of Zeus, who is being covertly sheltered on Earth in the secluded mountain town of Sandy, Oregon.

Allora is a shy, intelligent sixteen-year-old, trying to get through the gauntlet of high school while coming to terms with her otherworldly origins. After getting into a fight at soccer tryouts, Allora’s emotions boil over, and her hands suddenly burst into flames. She has harnessed the power of hadrons at the highest level, but at extreme cost. The magical outburst projects an energy signature that is detected by a group of assassins tasked with killing Sonoran rebels.

To survive, Allora, Katie, Dax, and Tanner must find a powerful ancient artifact known as the Eye of the Titans. With the help of a guardian known as Sasquatch, they will have to fight off creatures, solve complex riddles, and navigate magical caverns, all while enduring advanced calculus, jealous girlfriends, and prom.


Author Bio:
I'm a writer, skier, and wanderer. I grew up in Portland, Oregon, but currently live in the beautiful mountain resort town of Sun Valley, Idaho. I love history, mythology, and the fantastical interpretations that have been incorporated in my debut young adult urban fantasy series called Sonora.




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Wednesday, January 11, 2017

#Excerpt: YOU DON'T KNOW MY NAME by Kristen Orlando


You Don’t Know My Name
Kristen Orlando
(The Black Angel Chronicles #1)
Published by: Swoon Reads
Publication date: January 10th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

Fighter, Faker, Student, Spy.
Seventeen-year-old Reagan Elizabeth Hillis is used to changing identities overnight, lying to every friend she’s ever had, and pushing away anyone who gets too close. Trained in mortal combat and weaponry her entire life, Reagan is expected to follow in her parents’ footsteps and join the ranks of the most powerful top-secret agency in the world, the Black Angels. Falling in love with the boy next door was never part of the plan.

Now Reagan has to decide: Will she use her incredible talents and lead the dangerous life she was born into, or throw it all away to follow her heart and embrace the normal life she’s always wanted? And does she even have a choice at all?

Find out if you are ready to join the Black Angels in the captivating and emotional page-turner, You Don’t Know My Name, from debut novelist Kristen Orlando!

EXCERPT:
I love Malika and Harper. They make me happy. They really do. But there’s something about being with them that makes me feel lonely too. I can never really be myself with them. I can’t really be myself with anybody. It’s ingrained in me to lie, to stick to the cover story and blend in no matter what. And I feel guilty about that. Because they think they know me so well. They think because they can finish my sentences they know everything about me. But they only know Reagan MacMillan; the quick-talking, tough girl I created. Sometimes I wonder which parts of my personality are really me and which ones belong to the pretender.
But with Luke, it’s different. There’s nothing forced or strategic about our friendship. He’s gotten to see glimpses of the real Reagan. And that scares the shit out of me. Because I know how quickly it could all be torn away from me. How quickly I could be torn away from him. There’s no such thing as a happy ending for a girl like me.
“Come on, Reagan,” Harper says quietly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Luke is still out of earshot. “You guys are so cute together. He broke up with Hannah months ago. I don’t know what you’re waiting for. I can just tell by the way he looks at you he—”
“Harper,” I interrupt as her words compress my lungs, making each breath labored and painful. I don’t want to hear this. “He doesn’t look at me like anything. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“You know some things are worth ruining,” Harper replies, reaching out to touch my arm with her fingertips, her nails painted darker than my gray cardigan. “You can’t tell me you haven’t at least thought of starting a relationship with him or maybe—”
“There is no relationship,” I cut her off again, pulling my arm away a little faster than I meant to. I snap new gloves onto my hands, pick up the scalpel, and slice into the frog’s heart. “Next stomach.”
“Next stomach?” Harper repeats, scrunching her forehead.
“Next subject.”

Author Bio:
Writing is one of the great loves of Kristen Orlando’s life and she has been lucky enough to make it her living, first as a television producer, then as a marketer and now as a novelist. Kristen graduated with a B.A. in English literature from Kenyon College. She lives in Columbus, Ohio with the other great love of her life, Michael. You Don’t Know My Name is her debut novel.


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Monday, January 9, 2017

#Review: READY, SET, ROGUE by Manda Collins





I'm a fan of Ms. Collins and was excited to read this book, but in the end, I was a little disappointed in it. Loved the premise of four young women being selected to inherit an estate, Beauchamp House, solely because of their scholarly pursuits. The book started out well with a chance meeting of Ivy Wareham and Quill Beauchamp, the Marquis of Kerr. Quill is beyond angry that his beloved aunt would leave the estate to strangers and he's set his mind on removing the young women as soon as possible.

I understand this was an ARC, but there were numerous inconsistencies in the story. First, Ivy's number of sisters changed throughout the narrative and at one point, she had brothers although there was only one mention of them. My biggest pet peeve though was the timeline. Ivy and Quill are working together to solve his aunt's murder and they decide to go to question the local doctor, but are interrupted by Serena who wants to give the ladies a tour of the house. The next mention of time is that it rained for a week, but when Ivy and Quill finally go into the village, it's only 24 hours later. 5 days or 24 hours--which is it? This was a major stumbling block for me and should have been caught before the ARC was made available.

Ms. Collins is a talented author and I really enjoyed the dialogue especially with Daphne. I figured out early on the mystery, although not to the nth degree of the "why" things happened. I also wasn't convinced of the strong feelings between Ivy and Quill especially if the timeline for indeed 24 hours. The other slight criticism is the title--it doesn't seem to fit especially since Quill isn't much of a rogue in this story.

I'm hoping the next story in the series is about Daphne. I'd definitely like to read that one.

I received this book in exchange for a fair and honest review.

 


EXCERPT:

Hed known she was attractivehad categorized her as such almost as soon as he saw her in the Fox and Pheasant earlier that daybut even that observation hadnt led him to imagine what shed look like in such dishabille. Well, that wasnt quite true, he amended. His mind had conjured her in much fewer clothes than this before hed realized just who she was. But any such imaginings had been snuffed out as soon as hed known her destination. The reality of facing her here, now, in her virginal bedclothes, however, with her lovely red hair framing her face like a halo was far more tempting than his fantasy had been.
So, yes. She was disturbing him, but likely in a way she didnt even comprehend.
Suppressing the urge to tell her just that, he said instead, I was too restless to sleep. It takes a bit for me to settle in to a new place. So theres no harm done.
Moving farther into the room, she set her candle down on one of the large library tables and wrapped her arms across her chest. Its chilly in here, she said frowning. I hadnt expected it this close to the sea. I thought it was supposed to be milder here.
Wordlessly, he looked away from her and moved over to kneel before the fireplace, stoking the embers back into a blaze. Its still early spring, he said on standing, brush- ing his hands together more for something to do than to remove any soot. The breeze off the channel keeps the air fairly cool until summer.
But she wasnt paying him any mind; instead she scanned the shelves that lined the walls behind him.
Looking for something in particular? he asked, not- ing the impatience flash in her gaze before she replaced it with polite indifference. Something to read before sleep, perhaps? Something to steal?
Her brow furrowed at his question. Hed meant it to be playful, but her response told him that it had come off more sharply than hed intended.
Id hoped youd decided to stop treating me like an op- portunist here to steal your inheritance from you, she said, pursing her lips. I have it on very good authority that youve a great many houses as part of the Kerr estateones much grander and more impressive than this one. I do not understand why you cannot manage to accept the loss of this one. Unless, of course, like most boys you dis- like sharing your toys.
She said this last part dismissively over her shoulder as she stepped past him and openly began to read through the shelves on the far wall.
Turning to watch her move from shelf to shelf, he sighed. I suppose I deserve that after the way I behaved this afternoon. But let me assure you that its no petty childhood jealousy that made me distrust you and your compatriots, Miss Wareham.
This must have surprised her, for she turned and looked at him through narrowed eyes. No? Then what?
He thrust a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to look away. Have you never faced the removal of a child- hood memory? he asked, finally. Never wished to hold onto the last bastion of somewhere that gave you comfort?
Arrested, she tilted her head. And thats what this place was for you? she asked. A bastion of comfort?
He wasnt sure why, but Quill felt more exposed in that moment than he would have if he were stark naked. But he knew he owed her an explanation. Especially after the way hed treated her earlier. For me, for Serena, and for my cousin Dalton, he admitted. Our own homes were not particularly . . . He broke off as he tried to think of a word that wouldnt shock her. He could hardly tell her about the debauchery that had reigned in his own house before his father died. And the circumstances of Serena and Daltons upbringing werent his to reveal. Lets just say that we found our visits to Beauchamp House to be a relief from our own homes.
Something flashed behind her eyes. Sympathy? Or something else? Quill wasnt sure, but he couldnt fail to note the way she squared her shoulders. As if shed come to a decision.
Abandoning her scan of the bookshelves, she turned fully to face him, her hands clasped before her so tightly that her knuckles were white with it. Lord Kerr, she began, her green eyes shadowed with trepidation.There is something I must tell you.
Quill felt his stomach drop, and a pang of disappoint- ment ran through him. Now shed admit that she and the others actually had found some way to trick Aunt Celeste into leaving them Beauchamp House. The whole business of the competition had sounded like a farce, and though hed known his aunt to possess a playful streak, hed never guessed it would reveal itself in such a way. Certainly hed not supposed she would play fast and loose with the dis- position of Beauchamp House, where shed spent so many happy years.
Then by all means, he drawled, allowing every bit of the world-weary ennui that cloaked him in town to settle over him. Tell me all, Miss Wareham. I confess I am curi- ous to hear how you all managed it, never having set foot in Beauchamp House before. It must have taken a great deal of coordination amongst the four of you.
But if hed expected her to surrender completely, he was to be disappointed. What? she asked, her nose wrinkled in puzzlement. I thought wed just put that behind us. And yet, here you are with accusations again. You are like a dog with a bone, Lord Kerr. Honestly!
If not that, then what is it you wish to tell me? he de- manded, exasperated. Hed never thought himself to be a particularly emotional man, but since hed met this chit on the road hed gone through more feelings than a year in London had elicited from him. He must be sickening for something. You can hardly blame me for jumping to con- clusions when weve just been speaking about my earlier suspicions.
I can blame you all too easily, she retorted with a scowl. But I will not because I am tired of being at cross purposes with you. And I do not believe your aunt would like it.
Indicating with a wave of his hand that she should go on, Quill waited.
I found a letter from your aunt waiting for me in my bedchamber, she said, her fine features marred by worry. I greatly fear that Lady Celeste was murdered.

Copyright © 2017 by the author and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Press.


BLURB:
When scholarly Miss Ivy Wareham receives word that she’s one of four young ladies who have inherited Lady Celeste Beauchamp’s estate with a magnificent private library, she packs her trunks straightaway. Unfortunately, Lady Celeste’s nephew, the rakish Quill Beauchamp, Marquess of Kerr, is determined to interrupt her studies one way or another...

Bequeathing Beauchamp House to four bluestockings—no matter how lovely they are to look at—is a travesty, and Quill simply won’t have it. But Lady Celeste’s death is not quite as straightforward as it first seemed…and if Quill hopes to solve the mystery behind her demise, he’ll need Ivy’s help. Along the way, he is surprised to learn that bookish Ivy stirs a passion and longing that he has never known. This rogue believes he’s finally met his match—but can Quill convince clever, skeptical Ivy that his love is no fiction?

Don't miss Ready Set Rogue, the first in Manda Collins' new series set in Regency England!

Buy Links: Amazon | BAM | iBooks | B & N | Indiebound | Kobo

AUTHOR BIO:
Manda Collins is the author of The Lords of Anarchy series, which includes Good Earl Gone Bad and A Good Rake is Hard to Find, as well as several other Regency-set romances. She spent her teen years wishing she’d been born a couple of centuries earlier, preferably in the English countryside. Time travel being what it is, she resigned herself to life with electricity and indoor plumbing, and read lots of books. When she’s not writing, she’s helping other people use books, as an academic librarian.

MANDA COLLINS SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS
Twitter: @MandaCollins
Facebook: @MandaCollinsAuthor
http://www.mandacollins.com/