#SaleBlitz “Don’t Wake Me Up” by M.E. Rhines ~~ @merhines @StarAnge13 #dontwakemeupsale

  Title: Don’t Wake Me Up
By: M.E. Rhines
Publication Date: November 03, 2016
Genre: YA PNR

When the chaos of school, her over-reactive mother, and her abusive boyfriend gets to be too much, sixteen-year-old Colleen turns to astral projection to escape it all. In the sanctuary of the astral plane, she mingles with the lost souls of the departed. They all need help to move on to the Summerland, and Colleen never turns down a spirit in need. Until she meets Daemon.

With just a glance, Daemon makes her forget all the turmoil back home. The calm is welcome and addictive, but Colleen knows the peace he offers will leave with him once he crosses over, forcing her to make a desperate decision: sever her ties to her physical body, or sabotage his salvation.


Amazon UK – https://goo.gl/AGHOZw
Amazon CA – https://goo.gl/O4zSmk

ME Rhines a southwest Florida native currently living in North Port with her two beautiful children and a third, much larger child whom she affectionately calls husband.
She writes young adult paranormal romance to feed her belief that fairy tales are real and nonsense is necessary.

She also writes adult romances under her edgier alter-ego, Mary Bernsen

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#BlogTour “Legacy Lost” by @jilliandavid13 ~~ @StarAnge13 #legacylosttour

Title: Legacy Lost
Series: Hell’s Valley #2

By: Jillian David
Publication Date: March 27, 2017
Publisher: Crimson Romance
Genre: Western Paranormal Romance

Growing up as an honorary Taggart, Eric Patterson found the family he’d always wanted. Almost. He couldn’t ever manage to see the clan’s youngest and only daughter, stubborn spitfire Shelby, quite like a little sister. Suddenly, his long-suppressed feelings are determined to come to light.

Too bad Shelby’s cursed. Her double whammy psychic powers to read emotions and locate anyone anywhere have always made relationships impossible—and now they’ve begun to endanger her life. If she uses her echolocation skills again, it just might kill her.

But when a malevolent supernatural force invades the valley, threatening the Taggarts and their neighbors, the Brands, Eric and Shelby must contend with both their blossoming feelings and the increasing danger. Does Shelby dare risk using her powers one more time, sacrificing her own life to save Eric?

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“Here’s the deal, Shel. If you’re ever with me, you have to open up to me. Completely.”

“Completely?” she whispered.

Dipping his lips to her ears, his voice vibrated every bone of her body. “Every. Whimper.” He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, and her heart stopped. “Every time you squirm, wanting more. And I want to bring you more. Create your pleasure. Become your pleasure. Be responsible for making you scream my name. I want you to be mine. I don’t want to have just something. I want you. Body. Mind. All of it. Or nothing.”

Jillian David lives near the end of the Earth with her nut of a husband and two bossy cats. To escape the sometimes-stressful world of the rural physician, she writes while on call and in her free time. She enjoys taking realistic settings and adding a twist of “what if.” Running or hiking on local trails often promotes plot development.
Social Media Links
Twitter – @jilliandavid13

#BlogTour “Because of You” by Silvy Wells #becauseofyoutour @starange13 @booksaremy

 Title: Because of You
By: Silvy Wells
Publication Date: February 17, 2017
Genre: Romantic Comedy


Nicole Wellston realized that falling in love would bring her just pain. She was working in the biggest publishing company in New York and didn’t want anything but her job. With head into the books, she enjoyed in fictional characters more than the real ones.

Nicole had nothing to lose she already lost everything except her job.She worked hard and did her best to hide her loneliness, assuring her four supportive friends even herself that everything was perfect in her life. They knew that she needed love in her life or she would “kill” herself working, and they arranged her blind dates. According to Nicole, men who were chosen by her friends were a complete disaster. Nicole wanted to enjoy in the perfection of fictional characters instead of going on dates with those men.

One night Nicole went out with her friends and met Sebastian, a good looking psychoanalyst. His athletic body and dark green eyes would make her believe that everything was possible.

No matter how hard Nicole tried to find him a flaw, she could not, he was perfect.

After one beautiful and romantic weekend in Aspen Nicole and Sebastian were back in New York, happier and engaged, but Nicole read the article that one magazine published about her exposing her previous life with a shameful secret which wasn’t true and ran.

Did Sebastian love her enough to find her and bring her back?

AMAZON UK – https://goo.gl/kX73Py
AMAZON CA – https://goo.gl/o1ssm2

I forgot that Sebastian was there, and I was wearing just a bathrobe. He came close to me and took me in a hug to warm me than he said: “You are shaking go and wear something before you get cold. I am in the shower if you need me just whistle.”

“Oh, you are too funny” when he went I slapped him on his butt and then I realized that he wasn’t Jess or one of my girlfriends and I got red as a lobster.
“I will forgive you for this because you are shaking, but tomorrow is a pay day, watch yourself. “ He kissed me on my lips and went to the bathroom.
Oh, my Goodness! He was too sweet. I couldn’t think of anything else except him. I was rushing to put on my clothes before Sebastian came out of the bathroom. I was freezing, wearing my pajamas and one warm sweater then I took one more blanket, and I covered myself with it and covered with the under blanket. That was it; I felt warmer at that moment. I got my phone and texted Jess, she replied very quickly, but she said that she wouldn’t interrupt something. Then I called Robert my big brother to tell him that I arrived in Aspen, I saw them on Viber and saw my sweet little niece, Bisera.
My new winter book caught my eye, and I took it. When Sebastian went out of the bathroom wearing just boxer shorts, I was pretending that I didn’t see him, but I was blushing, and he knew it because he looked me with a smirk.
“Alice in the Winterland what are you doing?”
“Reading. Please, just a little bit.”
“I understand you, but you will read to me because you didn’t buy a book for me.”
“I will” and I started reading aloud.

Sebastian was wearing his pajamas and threw himself on the bed next to me, lying in my lap and hugged me with his hands. Having him too close was like heaven to me. After two chapters he was asleep, I turned off the lamp and tried to sleep, turned my back to him. He turned back at me and wrapped his arms around me.

Silvy Wells has always wanted to write. She discovered her passion for being a writer when she was at the age of fourteen when started to write a novel in her native language, but she has never finished it. After that, Silvy has always written something -a poem or a short story. She has published some of her poems in several editions along with different authors.

After obtaining a degree in the Department of Classics, Ancient Greek, and Latin, Silvy became a Latin language teacher and still teaches students in one small town in the Republic of Macedonia. But there has always been that big desire for writing which she has minimized with reading books and writing reviews. Because that wasn’t enough, she finally sat down and wrote her first novel Because of You.

#ReleaseBlitz “Bound” by C.M. Steele ~~ @Author_CMSteele @StarAnge13

 Title: Bound
Series: A Lamian Wars Series #1
By: C. M. Steele
Publication Date: February 17, 2017
Genre: Paranormal Romance

A tale tells of a baby girl being born from a vampire and his human bride. She would be the sign that all would never be the same again. The wars would come to a bloody end and they would rule in peace.Three hundred years of waiting for an answer to their problem had worn on the soul of Falcon Lombardi and that of his best friend Draco Romano. The pain and guilt of the past etched in their hollow hearts. Both men spent their lives working to make things right, however nothing had truly changed in all that time. Disillusioned and left empty, neither of them expected the end of the dark to come from a trip to the theater.
How could something so twenty-first century fix the woes of a seventeenth century curse?

C.M. Steele is a full time mom and author. She loves writing and doesn’t do much else except watch ID Discovery and take care of the kids (of course.)She has 30+ novellas under her belt and many more in her head.

Social Media Links
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8449520.C_M_Steele
Website – www.cmsteele.com
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/thelamianwars/
Twitter – @Author_CMSteele  

#BlogTour “Flightless” by L Duarte ~~ #flightlesstour @starange13 @LDuarte77

Title: Flightless
By: L. Duarte
Publication Date: January 23, 2017
Publisher: LD Publishing LLC
Genre: Romance
Cover Designer: Okay Creations

Everyone has a story.Mine went like this: Once upon a time, I met a boy. He was the most handsome fella in the land. I fell in love. Together, we had cosmic chemistry. I believed I would live a life of unending bliss. Until he broke my heart. Shattered it to pieces. And I lived unhappily ever after instead. The end.

Or so I thought.

Life found a way to reunite us. But to change that unhappy ending, I had to learn how to forgive. And my heart seemed unable to do so.

This is a love story. But it is also, much more. It’s the story of how I coped with my shortcomings, my fears and rewrote my destiny. Everyone has a story. This is mine.

AMAZON UK – https://goo.gl/usJ3w4
AMAZON CA – https://goo.gl/VPrQMu
AMAZON AU – https://goo.gl/ItxgHI
Check out these other amazing books from L. Duarte

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 AMAZON  – http://amzn.to/2jLA6ly
Chapter One
I stepped back. Not literally, just figuratively. I did that with every concert. I allowed my mind’s eyes to hover over me and my fans while I analyzed and dissected the unique relationship between us.
As I watched the multitude of people—a beautiful kaleidoscope of different races and social statuses—my heart, in utter bliss, roared.
The audience held their hands upwards as if in an offering or a request. I never knew which. In perfect synchrony, their arms rolled in waves like the swaying of a stormy sea. Their voices cried out my name, and the smell of their sweat and the heat of their mingled bodies emanated from them, unfurling to me like the sweet perfume of incense.
I held the mic near my motionless lips and stared at them. At that moment, I became one with thousands. At that moment, I took back from the crowd all the energy I had fed them. And their vibe made me high and drunk. It was my personal Nirvana. The kind of rapture that can only be attained through uttermost intimacy. A oneness I had only felt with one other person. A person who had severed that connection and shattered my heart into a million shards of pain.
I worshiped them as they adored me. The exchange of atomic energy contained nuclear power. I was drained from giving. They were wasted from receiving. But we were both impossibly happy and satisfied.
My motionless lips finally moved, uttering the final words for the night. The parting words. “Good night, Sydney!” I waved a hand back at them. “You looked beautiful tonight. All forty thousand of you.”
I bowed. They deserved my reverence. People had spent their time camped outside the venue waiting for a closer glance at me. They had spent their precious earned money to see my performance. They were worthy of my respect and gratitude.
Another wave of a hand. A kiss. Another bow. And I was out. Another show was done. Eight more to go.
I jogged backstage and gave the mic to Jeremy, my makeup artist, in exchange for a bottled water. He opened a portable case containing all the potions that would quickly improve my appearance for the meet and greet. 
Before I took a swig from the bottle, Clara, my assistant, brusquely interrupted my post-concert ritual. She snatched the bottle from my hand and returned it to a confused Jeremy. “Gray. With me,” she demanded, grabbing my elbow and urging me toward my changing room.
I glanced back at the stunned face of Jeremy. It was time for meet and greet with the VIP’s. I needed to freshen up. My makeup had all but melted under the stage lights.
Once inside the privacy of the room, I demanded, “What’s going on?”
She raised a finger and said, “Wait.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Instead, I swallowed the words. Clara was usually a chatterbox; her clipped words quickly clued me in that something was seriously wrong.
As I waited, Clara dialed a number on her phone. Her silence became as unnerving as the red glare of an alarm light.
“Betty, I have Gray,” Clara said. Wordlessly, she shoved the device in my hand. The door closed with a thud after she exited in a flurry of silent drama. 
“Mama?” I asked holding the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Puppy,” Mama said in a soft, almost regretful tone.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Silence filled the other end of the line, only increasing my concern. Mama knew I had just left the stage. She followed my tour from home. Minute by minute. It was unusual for her to call me so soon following a show.
“How was, um, the, um, concert?” she asked.
“Mama, did you call me to ask how the show went?” I furrowed my brows and every hair on my body stood at attention. Mama knew my routine during a tour. After a performance, I had a brief meet with fans and then I would go on hours of silence to rest my vocal cords. Although she knew she could call me at any time, she never called until at least ten hours following a show.
“Mama?” I prodded after a long silence.
“I have cancer,” she said bluntly.
The phone connection was perfect. No static. But Mama’s words hummed in my ear with a tunnel-like quality. Distorted, altered, garbled. My mind, however, had remained sharp and alert. Without much thought and after a brief pause, I uttered the words, “I’m coming home.” I hadn’t said those words in over a decade. Somehow, they didn’t taste as foreign as I had imagined they would.


“Gray,” I said. The word hovered on my tongue, saturating my taste buds with an acrid taste. “Gray,” I repeated, letting it roll off my tongue. I did that a lot. It was my name.
Often, I mused about my name. It hadn’t been given to me because it was fashionable. Nevertheless, it had a history. My history.
When I was little, I liked to fancy its origin. The sky, I would think, was painted gray the day I was born. I loved the theory. The unattainability of the infinite mass of gray made it a great namesake. Whenever gray clouds hovered in the sky, I would lay on my back and stare at them, dreaming that when I grew up, I would build an enormous ladder, climb it, and touch the gray painted dome. It was all, of course, a foolish child’s dream, born out of vain imagination. I wasn’t born during the day, nor was the sky gray. And it was most definitely not the inspiration behind the choosing of my name.
I was born in a graveyard. Serene Hills Cemetery, it was called, though its surface was flat. It was a fall night, October 20th, approximately 11 pm.
They found me covered in vernix. I used the term ‘they’ loosely. A dog found me. A female German Shepherd mix that went by the name of Sunshine. Her fur was golden. Shiny like sun rays. I had a newspaper cut-out of her. It’s black and white, but it described her that way. In the shot, she looked straight at the camera, two vivid round eyes dotting a long and alert face. She had the knowing stare of someone who was aware she had done a good deed.
Obviously, I don’t recall the details surrounding my birth. I was an infant. But I had Mama tell me the story so many times, which after a while, the images ingrained in my brain like the roots of a tree embedded in the fertile soil. They became so real in my imagination that it felt as if they were my recollections.
I was a born a preemie. Weak, small, and blotchy-faced. I was skin and bones with a mop of black spiky hair, and a bad case of a cold.   
A miracle, they called me. But I knew I was no wonder. I happened to have the perfect concoction of healthy lungs and a loud cry. These, and the sharp canine sense of hearing and smelling had saved me. I didn’t believe in miracles. Not anymore.
When they found me, decay from the trees covered the ground on a fascinating palette of colors—an array of red, yellow, purple, brown, orange, golden, bronze.
I used to question why the leaves change colors and fall off the branches. According to a scientific explanation, leaves are a weak and feeble part of a plant. So, before the weather gets severely cold, the trees should toughen up to protect themselves. Or simply dispose of the leaves, the weak part.
Personally, I believe they turn colors before falling as revenge. A personal vendetta. And for that I applaud them. They turn their death into a poetic and alluring sight. That line of thought made me believe death was beautiful. It fascinated me. It’s more interesting than birth, although similar.
I had been abandoned under a pile of dead foliage. According to the police investigation, it appeared my birth mother had buried me under the leaves. Hid me. Like a criminal attempting to cover its tracks. Supposedly, I spent the night under a cocoon of leaves. The tree’s decay was soaked with blood and amniotic fluid.
According to Sunshine’s owner, they were walking on the sidewalk by the cemetery when she heard a whizzing sound. Sunshine’s owner discarded the noise as being the cry of squirrels.
Sunshine didn’t. At odds with her sweet nature, she became agitated and broke loose. She squeezed through a small gap in the fence and disappeared between the gravestones, leaving her owner in a frenzy.
Less than a minute later, Sunshine returned. Her mouth muzzled around my small waist, my umbilical cord dragging, rattling the decayed leaves.
I found my story fascinating, unique. Or so I told myself whenever I got teased at school.
The hospital staff called me the Graveyard Miracle. Soon after, Gray for short. It stuck.
I spent three months in the hospital. That’s where Mama worked. The graveyard shift. She fed me. She bathed me. She caressed my skin. “My heart had not a chance. It fell madly in love with you,” she said, whenever she told me my story. Her pale hand, dotted with freckles, caressing my black, straight hair.
 When I became her child officially, she quit the night job. “I had brought home my very own Graveyard Miracle.”
She found a day job at a pediatric clinic, occasionally helping at the hospital for extra income. She continued working at the clinic throughout my childhood, adolescence, and after I left home. She remained there until cancer said, “No more.” Until cancer said, “I want your time. From now on, you are going to dedicate every waking hour to me. I’m egocentric. I want it all. I want your flesh and the total sum of your soul.”
That’s why I was there, sitting in the back of a limousine Clara had rented to pick me up from JFK airport and take me home.
“When should I schedule your flight to LA?” she had asked. “Only a one-way ticket for now,” I responded.
32 Lorelai Lane, my childhood home. It was a small Victorian-style house, built in 1929. The colorful foliage of a maple tree and an oak tree framed the dwelling as if it was extracted from the pages of a fairy tale book. When I was little, I used to fancy my house was lovely. The most enchanting place in all realms. Staring at the house, I discovered that I still thought that. It was the most magical place in the world because it was the place that humans refer to it as ‘home’. And home is a thing of fairy tales. Rare and pure.
The car door was wide open, awaiting me. I climbed out. The driver stood straight as a pole. His hands perfectly folded in front of him, his face impassive. I wondered how long he had stood there, waiting for me, questioning my sanity. The luggage was lined up at the front porch. His face remained expressionless when I pulled a generous tip from my purse and handed it to him. “Thank you,” I murmured.
He drove off, the sound of the engine trailing off into the quiet street. It was late at night. The crisp air smelled of burnt wood and autumn, reminiscent of bonfires and fireplaces.
I crossed the stone path leading to the front steps.
The hinges of the front door squeaked, and Mama slowly appeared as light spilled out from inside the house. She leaned against the doorframe, cocked her head, her eyes fixed on me. She knew me so well. She knew I needed the time.
I peered up, carefully examining Mama’s face. It had been only two months since I had last seen her, but she appeared decades older. Even under the porch’s pale yellowed light, I could detect the lines circling her mouth. Small bags sagged under her eyes, and her plump skin appeared loose, dripping like melting wax. Her hair showed inches of gray and her usual square and proud shoulders were smaller, fragile. But what got my attention the most were her eyes. Their vivid green had turned opaque.
The grief and sorrow in her stare set my feet in motion, and I climbed the steps.
When mama stepped forward, the old wooden floor groaned and creaked under her feet. She came to a halt at the top of the stairs. Her lips curved into a small smile, and her arms spread open in an inviting hug.
As I stepped forward, my legs felt wobbly with the weight of so many years of absence.


I have found that there is only one thing better than reading, and that is writing. I am always torn between the two. I am also frequently torn between chocolate and coffee. However, I emphatically do not like the month of February, lies, and flies. For me, bravery is defined by the courage to do what we fear the most. I live in Connecticut with my husband and two children. Drop a few lines. I would love to hear from you.

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#BookBlitz “Her Southern Temptation” by Trish F. Leger @leger_f @starange13

Title: Her Southern Temptation
Series: Legacy Falls #1
By: Trish F. Leger
Publication Date: October 5, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance

A transplanted northerner, new to the south…Allie Magill is familiar with the hard knocks of life. The widowed mother of a four year old, Allie has landed in the South where the air is thick with humidity, the nights are hot, the men are honorable, but even hotter. But business as usual is stilted when she meets the new construction company owner, Jake Warren. Now it’s all Allie can do to keep her hands to herself and not put her job, or heart, on the line.

A southern man whose world is rocked by a northern beauty…

Jake Warren knows little about things up north, but he does know Allie Magill is unexpected. The liaison for a hotel chain, Allie enters Jake’s work life to make sure business goes as planned. But once he gets a taste of Allie, and takes a peek behind that closed-off northern exterior, all bets are off. He knows he has to make her see that life and love in the south flows differently and he hopes once Allie sees how sweet surrender can be, she won’t be able to turn him down.

Battling ghosts from her past, Allie will have to learn to accept Jake’s way of life and win the heart of her southern temptation.

AMAZON US – http://amzn.to/2jMDZ9k

When he stiffened against her, and let out a soft growl against her ear, Allie swore steam must be rising up between them. It was almost too much to bear.
“Damn, honey…”
His words were succinct, to the point, and had the same effect on Allie as a bucket of ice water. She tore herself from his arms, and like the coward she was, walked calmly past the crowd of people, out the building, to her SUV parked outside.
The night air was hot, of course, and did nothing to stop the burn that had come over her like a summer heat wave. She was breathing heavily, her heart tripping in her chest, and her only thought was to get home…NOW. She would be better able to analyze everything once she was safe in her own home with her daughter.
“Oh God, oh God…”
Don’t think about it.  It was one dance. Only one, and only . . . the hottest experience you’ve had in the past four years. Hell, maybe even your whole life.
Allie shook her head. No, she would be honest with herself. She and Ryan had never been like a match to a flame, but there had been some passion, mostly love, between them. But nothing at all like the living entity of combustible energy that had been growing between her and Jake on that floor.
With shaking hands, she got her keys out of her little clutch purse, and was about to open her door, when Jake’s voice interrupted her escape.
“Allie, honey, wait a sec…”
Oh God. Don’t turn around.
But she had to, didn’t she? If she pulled the cowardly lion act now she would never be able to face him again. They had to maintain some semblance of a business relationship. It had to be done. Gritting her teeth, she turned, and realized he was closer than she had originally thought.
The night clung to him lovingly, as Allie had been doing so moments before. She couldn’t see his face, or any hint of his expression. She just saw a large, looming Jake filling up her vision.
“Look, when you did what you did, it just caught me off guard, and I’m not about to apologize for my body’s reaction to something so simple.”
“Simple?” Her body began to quake and vibrate. He thought that lick had been something simple? That lick had rocked her little world, damn it!
“Well, maybe not so simple, you’re right. But it did surprise me, in a good way.” His voice was deeper now, slight amusing undertones hidden in there as well. And as Allie watched, he moved closer. She countered, moving back as well, her back hitting the door of her SUV. She was well and truly trapped.
There still was a slight shadow where his face was, so Allie had no idea what he was thinking, but she knew what she was feeling, and that burning, incendiary feeling was back. Her lower body erupted into little white hot flames, singeing her nerves as they awakened, tripping along her extremities.
“This isn’t a good idea Jake, you know it. I know you do.” Her voice sounded slightly raspy to her ears.
“Ah, darlin’, I know that, but when has anything that felt this good, been bad?”
And with no other warning, he invaded her personal space, and silenced all of her protests, swooping in like a large shadow. His mouth was on hers, his lips softly coaxing, softly nibbling at first her top, then lower lip. No other part of his body touched hers, except for his mouth. His hands were braced on both sides of her head on the vehicle. Allie was stunned, shocked into submission for the moment, and oh so glad that all she had to contend with was his mouth. She didn’t know if she could handle any other part of him touching her.
She inhaled Jake into her, realizing everything about him was delicious, including his lips. Her fingers tingled, wanting to reach out and grasp him, but she didn’t, she kept a death grip on her keys and clutch, not willing to make an ass of herself with this man.
He moved slightly back, canted his head and came back for more, this time licking the seam of her lips with his tongue. Oh yes… Allie’s breath left her mouth, only to be caught up by Jake. He let out another soft little growl then his body came down on hers, pressing her against the car, while his hands came into play, tearing through her hair on each side of her head, holding her in place while he seduced her mouth with his.
Oh God, he tasted so good, the alcohol on his breath only adding to his earthiness as Allie gave in and let her tongue swipe against his. His large body shuddered against hers, while his leg slipped in-between. The hardness of his thigh right in the place where she needed it most was a jolt to her system.
She pushed back, snapping out of their kiss, and catching his attention instantly.
Her hands came up to her lips, wanting to hold onto the taste and warmth of him that was still there, but the shaking took over her. She shook her head back and forth slowly.
“No, no, this shouldn’t have happened,” she whispered.
He tore his hands through his hair. “Allie girl, I’m sorry…”
“No…” That’s the only word that would come from her mouth. Allie kept shaking her head and turned her back, fumbling with her keys, finally unlocking the door, she climbed in and revved the engine.
Not once did he try and stop her as she threw her car in reverse and pulled away.


Trish Leger lives in South Louisiana and also has a full time job--other than the writing. She is married and from a loving, boisterous family. Since food is so important in the south, it is also important to her, ranking right up there with writing, reading and watching movies.

Writing with a strong sensual bent, intent on capturing the growing relationship between a couple falling in love, Trish adds warmth and emotion to her stories.

She is a fan of everything from Drama to Historical Romance.

Please visit her on Facebook under Trish F Leger-author. Or email her at wackycajun@hotmail.com

Social Media Links
Twitter – @leger_f
Instagram – Cajunauthor
Trish is offering an E-book of Her Southern Temptation to one lucky winner!



#ReleaseBlitz “It Started With a Kiss” Melanie Moreland #itstartedwithakissblitz @StarAnge13

  Title: It Started with a Kiss
By: Melanie Moreland
Publication Date: January 23, 2017
Publisher: Enchanted Publications
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Cover Designer: Monark Designs

It started with a kiss.
Then it became so much more.
Love at first sight.
Avery Connor doesn’t believe in it.
But what about love at first kiss?
A favor for a friend. Kiss a stranger and walk away.
But what if that favor, and that stranger, prove to be the turning point of her life?
What if that kiss leads to something more?
Dr. Daniel Stewart is certain it will.
He is determined to make her see him. To feel what he feels.
To have the effects of that kiss last forever.

A story about taking a chance, opening your heart to the moment, and falling in love.

AMAZON UK – https://goo.gl/bDybLH
AMAZON CA – https://goo.gl/kn9e62

New York Times/USA Today bestselling author Melanie Moreland, lives a happy and content life in a quiet area of Ontario with her beloved husband of twenty-seven-plus years and their rescue cat Amber. Nothing means more to her than her friends and family, and she cherishes every moment spent with them.

While seriously addicted to coffee, and highly challenged with all things computer-related and technical, she relishes baking, cooking, and trying new recipes for people to sample. She loves to throw dinner parties, and also enjoys travelling, here and abroad, but finds coming home is always the best part of any trip.

Melanie delights in a good romance story with some bumps along the way, but is a true believer in happily ever after. When her head isn’t buried in a book, it is bent over a keyboard, furiously typing away as her characters dictate their creative storylines to her, often with a large glass of wine keeping her company.

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