Friday, April 29, 2016

BOOK TOUR PACKET w/Review: Filthy Foreign Exchange by SE Hall & Angela Graham


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Temptation is ONLY a room away….
Filthy Foreign Exchange is Now live!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1TrwTAB

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1SFzcTM

iBooks: http://apple.co/1R8c0wM

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1YOK3Jm



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Blurb

New York Times bestselling authors Angela Graham and S.E. Hall have teamed up again to bring you a full-length, steamy new romance.

Echo Kelly is loyal to her studies, family, and aerial artistry. She has no time for or interest in anything else, and is heartbroken when her oldest brother, Sebastian, gets accepted to a study-abroad program— exchanging places with cocky, not-at-all-shy foreign exchange student Kingston Hawthorne.

Kingston Hawthorne had the life every twenty-year-old guy dreams of— endless cash, easy women, and fast cars— until his father ripped it all away, shipping him off to the States and placing him temptingly close to the underage virgin who fascinates him in the most challenging of ways.

With Kingston’s bedroom just a connecting bathroom away from Echo’s, the chemistry between them is even more enticing than the notes he leaves for her on the shower door.

How long can you pretend you’re just friends?


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Excerpt

I creep silently into the house and find a tinfoil-covered plate on the kitchen counter: the dinner my mom saved for me, even though I'm sure my father said something along the lines of, “If she wants to eat, she can sit down, on time, with the rest of us.”
I smile to myself at the small victory. My dad may think he rules the roost, but he doesn't call the last shot when it comes to my mom taking care of her babies.
After I finish off the still-warm chicken and potatoes as quietly as possible, I tiptoe past my parents’ bedroom, paying special attention to each step I take—or, more specifically, avoiding the floorboards that creak.
My father's stern voice pierces the darkness. "We'll talk in the morning, young lady."
Damn, he's good. I literally wobbled left to right like a drunk person, nailing the silent boards, and he still heard me.
"Yes, sir," I spit out before hurrying up the staircase to my bedroom.
My grandfather, smart man that he was, built this house after he had children. With the master suite on the bottom floor and the kids' rooms upstairs, there was no getting past the parents. But somehow, Grandpa had forgotten to take into account that our family has studied the art of Aerialism for generations. So once you're up in your room, getting out of it undetected isn't much of a problem—a caveat I know for a fact my older brother Sebastian took advantage of often. Mostly because he used my balcony to do so nine times out of ten.
I head straight for a hot shower, not allowing my overworked muscles to stiffen. The entire time I stand under the spray, I stare through the glass at the closed door on the far side of the room. Sebastian’s bedroom is connected to mine by a Jack and Jill bathroom, but my brother isn't on the other side anymore. Tonight, and every night for this school year, he’ll be in England, his room vacant. The thought is the final blow to my day.
Once I've dried off and tied my robe, I open his door slowly, with tears in my eyes. I’m not sure why—maybe to see the proof of his absence, naively hoping that will help settle my anxiety?
It's dark inside, of course, but the thin drapes are parted and the moon is full and bright after tonight's storm.
My breath hitches, my feet coming to a complete and sudden halt when I spot the large body lying in my brother’s bed. It’s almost comforting at first; I find myself wishing it was Sebastian, but I know it’s not. And I can only assume it’s Kingston. I have no clue why my parents didn’t just drop him at his dorm, or why I’m not turning around to go back to my own room. But now, as I stand so close, my curiosity is piqued.
From this angle and lighting, he could almost pass for Sebastian: dark-brown hair cut short, muscularly outlined back, sleeping on his side. But whereas Sebastian sleeps under the covers, our houseguest has the sheet and comforter shoved down past a tight, perfectly rounded ass that’s filling out his black boxer briefs in a way I find startlingly sinful. He also has his arms shoved under his pillow—another difference that makes it hard for me to pretend.
I creep a bit farther into the room, checking out his luggage—designer and monogrammed, all matching of course, and reeking of luxury and fine leather. Fancy, but mismatching horribly with the black (somewhat sexy) combat boots that—
Umpf,” I grunt despite my desperate efforts to remain quiet, reaching out for anything to brace myself on. But it’s no use. I fly forward, having tripped over the second, not-nearly-as-sexy-now boot.
"I was told you were the graceful one."
His low, gravely taunt comes out of nowhere and startles me further, throwing me backward in the opposite direction, my balance completely lost. With my hands flailing, my only hope now is that the luggage provides a soft landing.
But I never meet it, or the floor. Instead, two strong hands rescue me, snaring my wrists and pulling me down on top of one seriously hard, hot—temperature-wise, I mean—body.
"I'd presume you to be Echo and say hello, but again, not the graceful girl I was expecting. So, you are…?" He looks up at me with a smug twitch to his lip and devastating twinkle in his gray—Are they really gray, or is that the lighting?—eyes.
"I…uh…” I stammer idiotically, dressed only in a robe that’s far too revealing for the position I find myself lying in: across the bare torso of perhaps the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen up close, in person. And we are very up close.
I attempt to push off him, but his hands slide down to my hips and grip tighter.
"Yes," I gasp, before battling for a sense of authority in my next response. "I'm Echo. Sorry I woke you, I just wasn’t…expecting you to be in here.” His brows rise, practically screaming that he sees right through me. “Let me up! I tripped over your big, stupid boots, then you scared me."
"My apologies, Echo.” A quiver plays down my spine at the way my name rolls off his lips in that decadent English accent of his. “Had I known you'd be visiting my room tonight, I'd have taken more care in setting my belongings out of your way.”
“I should’ve left when I realized you were in here, so we’re even. Can you let me up now?”
His grip remains firm as his smile deepens. “I must admit, I am rather enjoying this version of our introduction. Far better than a mere ‘How do you do?’ over dinner.” He’s sporting a full grin now, blindingly bright even in the dimly lit room.
All I can do is stare at him, words failing me. I half suspect I'm dreaming, but I can feel, long and stiff against my stomach, that this humiliation is, in fact, reality.
"I’m quite comfortable, so do feel free to stay as long as you like. And if you really want to give me a smashing welcome, don't be afraid to wiggle around a bit." His smirk grows impossibly wide as he thrusts his hips upward, pressing his erection firmer against me.
And just like that, my speechlessness evaporates.
"Are you insane?" I use both hands to shove hard against his chest, but I'm no match for his relentless clutch on my hips. "Let me go! You're a guest in our home tonight—you can't just manhandle me when the mood strikes!"
"Ah, grace period.” He nods. “Understood. So, tomorrow night, then?"
"Unbelievable!" I seethe, wriggling around in hopes of escape.
His fingers dig deeper, but the ravenous gleam in his eyes softens. "A joke, Echo. My apologies. Perhaps I took it too far."
My anger soothes to a low simmer. He's got a certain playful charm about him, and maybe this is just his very forward way of easing the awkwardness that I instigated in the first place by sneaking into the room in the middle of the night.
But just as I start to form a forgiving smile, he ruins all the excuses I’d just mentally compiled.
"Can I be frank with you?”
“Will you let me up?” I toss back.
“Of course.”
“Then let’s hear it.” I wait for him to say God only knows what—a heartfelt apology maybe?—but instead, his expression sharpens into one of pure lust.
“I’ve lied to you. The truth is…I'd much prefer it if you grinded down on me a bit, Love. Wiggling is for strangers, and we're not strangers anymore, now are we?"
“Ugh,” I growl, propelling myself off him when his laughter loosens his hold. I stomp out of the room, his sounds of amusement lingering behind me.
And that’s how I met our foreign exchange student, Kingston Hawthorne.

View the Filthy Foreign Exchange Trailer HERE: https://vimeo.com/162792461
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Pre-order Filthy Foreign Exchange 2
Releasing June 14th






About the Authors:

S.E. Hall
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S.E.Hall, lover of all things anticipation and romance, is the author of The Evolve Series: Emerge, Embrace, Entangled, Entice, Endure and companion novellas Baby Mama Drama and Guide for Tools Looking to Date My Daughter by character Sawyer Beckett. S.E. also wrote the stand-alone Finally Found novels Pretty Instinct and Pretty Remedy. Her co-written works include The Provocative Professions Collection: Stirred Up, Packaged and Handled 1&2, One Naughty Night and full-length, standalone novel Matched with Angela Graham as well as Conspire, a romantic suspense, written with Erin Noelle.
S.E. resides in Arkansas with her husband of 18 years and 3 daughters of the home. When not writing or reading, she can be found "enthusiastically cheering" on one of her girls' softball games.




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Angela Graham is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of the Harmony Series. She spent a lot of her childhood hidden away in the aisles at her local public library where she fell in love with reading. It was a home away from home through her youth to her adulthood.
In 2012 she knew she found her calling in the world of fiction the moment she began pounding away at the keys for her first short story. With a baby on her shoulder, she wrote about a year before deciding to try her hand at a novel. It was the best decision she ever made and one that changed her life in ways she never imagined.
Together with S.E. Hall, she has released five novels and one short story together.
Angela resides in Northwest Arkansas with her three beautiful children and a rowdy dog.




GIVEAWAY

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BOOK TOUR : Fire by Kathy Coopmans & Hilary Storm


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What happens when his mission is to get the girl?
Find out in the conclusion of The Elite Forces Series in
FIRE by Kathy Coopmans & Hilary Storm. #MilitaryRomance

NOW LIVE!



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Blurb

The moment you think you have it all is when it vanishes right before your eyes.

He had one final mission, but who knew it would go wrong? Kaleb Maverick is now fighting for his life. The life he wants to share with the woman he loves. The Fire inside him not only burns for her, it sizzles.

Jade Elliott has lost one man in her life. She's determined not to lose another. The coldness in her heart can't handle another loss like that. She refuses to let Kaleb go.

He's the Fire to her Ice. She's the Ice to his Fire. Together they cause an explosion so hot that someone is bound to get torched.


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Excerpt
Love, a word never on my radar, has now taken over my existence.  My world revolves around this man.  
I’m in love with him because of the deep connection I felt the second I saw him and dealing with the torture of this week has only intensified my feelings.  My mind went crazy, thinking of everything he went through, as I examined all of the marks on his body.  I can tell he was whipped many times.  The wounds are starting to heal, but I’m afraid the surface scars will always be there.  And I don’t even want to think about the internal scars something like this would bring.
I don’t care what he looks like or how much this will torment him.  He takes me and I take him just the way he is.  He’s been point blank about wanting me from the first day we met, and now it’s time I match his determination.  His blastoff introduction to have me on my knees that first day could’ve so easily gone a different way.  I’m just glad I felt the connection the second I laid my eyes on him.

Ice (Book One)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1pq5qFF

View the Ice Book Trailer HERE: https://youtu.be/3mgoiXCRUqM

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About the Authors:
Kathy Coopmans
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Amazon Best Selling Author Kathy Coopmans, lives in Michigan with her husband Tony where they have two grown sons.
After raising her children she decided to publish her first book and retiring from being a hairstylist.
She now writes full time.
She's a huge sports fan with her favorite being Football and Tennis.
She's a giver and will do anything she can to help another person succeed!

Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Website |  Goodreads | Newsletter signup


Hilary Storm
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Hilary Storm lives with her high school sweetheart and three children in Oklahoma. She drives her husband crazy talking about book characters everyday like they are real people. She graduated from Southwestern Oklahoma State University with an MBA in Accounting. Her passions include being a mom, writing, reading, photography, music, mocha coffee, and spending time with friends and family. She is the international best-selling author of the Rebel Walking Series, Bryant Brothers Series, Inked Brothers Series, and Six.

Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Website |  Goodreads | Amazon Page


GIVEAWAY

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Blog Tour - Layers of Her By Prescott Lane


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A Letter to my Readers

Rape. Just typing that word makes my gut tie up in knots. And that’s part of the problem.
Because it’s so uncomfortable, we don’t want to talk about it. So it gets buried at the bottom the newsfeed or forgotten altogether, like the backlog of untested rape kits.

Last March, I released Quiet Angel in which the heroine is a survivor of childhood sexual assault. A few weeks later, my husband became gravely ill, and we spent the rest of the year (5 long hospital stays and 4 long surgeries) fighting to regain his health. As I sat in the hospital chair next to his bed night after night, I got messages from women about how my book touched them. Some shared their reasons, and others didn’t.

I came to learn that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. How could I not know that? just released a book on the very topic. Yet I didn’t see one post about it on any of my social media accounts.

Early this year, I began writing Layers of Her with the intent to spread awareness and donate of April's profits to charity. I was nervous when I started, and I still am. I mean, how much the profits be? Will readers assume I’m a survivor or I know one? Will I do the topic justice?

Why am I doing this? It’s a whole lot easier to stay silent. But that’s the whole problem, isn’t I work in a field, in the genre of fiction, that is mostly comprised of women, where sexual assault is one of the most common tropes. And with each passing page, we pull for our broken heroes and heroines to heal, find love, forge a new path. That's all we want for them. We need to do same for the real life heroes and heroines, those brave souls who fight the real fight every single day. So join me this April in making some noise to raise awareness, not only for the survivors but for those who love them.

Prescott






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People always say it’s what’s on the inside that matters. If that’s the case, I’m screwed. On the outside, everything looks put together — blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and lean. By society’s standards, I’d be considered attractive. But f*ck society, I know what I am. I know what I’m made of. The recessive genes that reared their heads and created a decent looking package on the outside don’t make me who I am. What about all the evil lurking inside? What about all the other parts of me that aren’t so easy to see? Some of the most beautiful animals are also the deadliest. Take the polar bear, for example. Cute and cuddly on the outside, but it’s really a predator that will bite your f*cking head off. That’s a dangerous combination.

And that’s exactly like me, exactly who I am. Bad — and once you go bad, you can never go back.


WARNING: This book deals with the harsh reality of rape that could be upsetting for some readers.














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“What made you come for me?” she asks.  I tell her my theory about men making decisions based on one of three body parts — head, heart, dick.  “So which led you to my house tonight?” she asks.

“Let’s just say two out of three ain’t bad.”

Her giggle fills up the room.  “Stone?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t let me forget.”  

“Forget what?”

“How good I feel right now,” she says.

I know exactly what she’s feeling.  She doesn’t think she deserves to be happy.  It’s a constant waiting on the other shoe to drop so you can prove to yourself that all the bad shit you fill your head with is true.  That you’re bad, and that’s why bad things happen around you, or to those you love.  Dealt with that myself when Tate got her diagnosis.  Who am I kidding?  I still fight those demons, knowing she’s suffering because of my mistakes.  Self-blame is a bitch.  Self-hatred is even worse.  Guess I’ll just have to teach Campbell to love herself as much as I love her.

Yeah, yeah, it’s fast.  But how long does it really take to fall in love with someone?  A minute?  An hour?  A day?  A year?  For me, it took exactly one kiss.  The moment her lips touched mine in that hospital room, I was gone.  

Besides, what do you really have to know about a person to love them?  Not a damn thing other than how they make you feel when you close your eyes at the end of the day with them wrapped in your arms.










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Prescott Lane is the author of First Position, Perfectly Broken, and her new release, Quiet Angel. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College with a degree in sociology. She went on to receive her MSW from Tulane University, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren't enough happily ever afters in real life.
Happily Ever Afters Guaranteed

Author links

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