Saturday, December 31, 2016

Book Spotlight on My Highland Rebel by Amanda Forester (GIVEAWAY)

Start the new year off perfectly with this historical romance that pits a studious warrior against a strong-willed lass with the unexpected prizes being their hearts.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste of My Highland Rebel by Amanda Forester, with its engaging battle of the sexes, then count down the days until its January 3rd release date.  Until then, in honor of this second installment in the Highland Trouble series make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win 1 of 10 copies of this book too!

A conquering hero
Cormac Maclean would rather read than rampage, but his fearsome warlord father demands that he prove himself in war. Cormac chooses what he thinks is an easy target, only to encounter a fiery Highland lass leading a doomed rebellion and swearing revenge on him.
Meets an unconquerable heroine
Jyne Cambell is not about to give up her castle without a fight, even though her forces are far outnumbered. She’s proud, hot-blooded and hot-tempered, and Cormac falls for her hard.
It’s going to take all of Cormac’s ingenuity to get Jyne to surrender gracefully—both to his sword and to his heart…


Highlands, 1362
She had always wanted to have an adventure. That was her first mistake. Her second was to set off for a little privacy in the thick fog of the Highland morning.
Lady Jyne Campbell tramped along the cold ground of the Highland moor, trying to retrace her steps back to camp. She could not have gotten far. Could she? She considered calling out to her brothers for help, but rejected the idea. She wished to show her clan that she was capable of taking care of herself. Admitting she had gotten lost in the fog was not going to help her cause.
Being the youngest daughter, Jyne was accustomed to being bossed about by all of her fourteen siblings. And not just any siblings—Campbell siblings. Her eldest brother was David Campbell, laird of the powerful Campbell clan. The Campbell brothers were tall, broad-shouldered, hardworking, and a formidable foe to their enemies. The Campbell sisters were statuesque, brave, bold, and ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with any man to defend the Campbell clan, or against any clansman who got out of line. Jyne’s mother had borne fifteen children, and not one of them had the audacity to die in childhood. No, frailty was not allowed in the Campbell household.
All except Jyne. She had been born a little too soon and had always been small. In childhood, she was prone to illness and had a delicate constitution. Being of questionable health during her formative years, she was never chosen to travel or have any adventures. Though her dreams were as big as any of her siblings, she had to content herself with listening to the stories of others and making herself useful about the castle, while the other siblings returned with wild tales of their exploits.
Jyne paused a moment, straining to hear sounds from the camp. She would rather search for hours than admit to her overprotective brothers she had gotten lost in a bit of mist. She continued walking in the thick gray fog, which blanketed the rugged landscape. Straining to see ahead of her in the fog and stepped onto something she thought was firm ground, but suddenly wasn't.
“Oh!” She fell forward into a bog, gasping as the cold, muddy water engulfed her to her thighs. “Oh, no!” She struggled, trying to find firm ground to drag herself out of the treacherous moor, but everywhere she touched was made of cold, wet mud. Her efforts were rewarded only by her sinking into the bog a few inches more.
The freezing sludge seeped through her clothes and held her fast, like an icy claw. The smell of rotting swamp gas made her gag. Her heart pounded in her throat, along with the remnants of her last meal. She had heard stories of people getting trapped in the bog and never returning.
She clenched her teeth to stop them from chattering. Should she call for help? The thought of the looks on her brothers’ faces to find her stuck in the bog shut her mouth. She made another try for solid ground, straining her reach for a crop of grass.
She could almost make it. Her fingertips brushed tantalizingly against the stems of the grass, but there was nothing to grasp. She could not reach solid ground. Her efforts had only caused her to sink another few inches as fear slithered down her spine. Nothing she could do was going to get herself out.
“Help! David? Help!” Her pride was gone. She only hoped her brothers would hear her before she was gone. “Can anyone hear me?"
She had expected her siblings to come running as soon as she called. She could not be that far from camp. Could she? She listened for footsteps, for any hint that help was on the way. She heard nothing.
Panic surged within her, tinged with frustration. The one time she actually wanted her brothers to hover over her, and they were nowhere in sight. She made another lunge for solid ground, but the more she moved, the farther the bog sucked her down, and soon she was up to her waist, panting with exertion and sheer terror.
She closed her eyes and screamed with all her might, “Help! Heeeeeelp!"
“Here, lassie, take my hand.” A man, a stranger to her, flung himself onto the solid ground and reached out his hand over the murky bog. She grasped it, and he began to back up slowly, pulling her from the quagmire. He pulled hard, but the swamp resisted, as if unwilling to release its prize from its cold clutches. Finally, he wrenched her from the deadly swamp, and she collapsed beside him on firm ground.
“Thank ye,” she gasped, not sure if she was trembling from the fear of coming near death or the frozen chill of the mire still permeating her bones.
“Are ye hurt?” asked the stranger. He was a tall man dressed in the plaid kilt of the Highlander, belted at the waist and thrown over one shoulder. He had a wild mop of unruly brown hair and glinting dark eyes. He was armed with a bow and quiver of arrows and had several scrolls stuck into his wide leather belt.
Her teeth chattered. “N-nay, just relieved to be out o’ the bog."
The stranger stood up and took her with him, easily lifting her to her feet. “Ah, lass, ye’re chilled to the bone.” He pulled her close and wrapped the ends of his plaid around her, warming her with his own heat. She melted into the comforting warmth and safety of his arms.
Jyne sighed. She had a vague feeling she should not be enjoying an embrace with a total stranger. She must be simply thankful to be out of the bog. At least that is what she told herself to justify resting her cheek against his chest.
“Thank ye. I dinna ken what would have happened to me if ye hadna come along,” said Jyne into the man’s solid chest. “Ye must have been sent by the angels to save me."
The man laughed. “Angels? That would be the first time anyone said that about me."
Jyne looked up at him. He had a decided jawline and sharp cheekbones. His face was almost angular, but attractive. His dark green eyes gleamed in the early morning light. He was a trim, muscular man who looked to be in his early twenties. Perhaps it was her brush with danger, but she decided he was the most handsome Highlander she had ever seen.
“Then I am glad to be the first to say it to ye. Ye truly are my hero.” Jyne’s voice trembled with sincerity.
“I’m nobody’s hero.” He tilted his head with a sardonic smile.
“Ye are to me. I am Jyne and much in yer debt."
He shook his head. “Ye owe me naught."
She touched her hand to his cheek, and he tilted his head toward her, leaning closer.
“Unhand my sister!"
Jyne jumped away from the stranger and turned to see her brother, Laird of the Campbells, emerging from the mist.



Amanda Forester holds a PhD in psychology and worked many years in academia before discovering that writing historical romance was way more fun. A Publishers Weekly Top Ten author, her books have been given starred reviews from BooklistPublishers Weekly, and a Top Pick from RT Book Reviews. Whether in the rugged Highlands of medieval Scotland or the decadent ballrooms of Regency England, her novels offer fast-paced adventures filled with wit, intrigue, and romance. She lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest outside Tacoma, Washington.


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Friday, December 30, 2016

Book Tour for Feast of Love by Ceri Grenelle (Review & GIVEAWAY)

At this time of the year, surrounded by the chaos of the holidays, comes this erotically-charged ménage that deals with acceptance.  Readers who like their romances hot will get just that with this novella that takes place during Hanukkah and brings together three very unique individuals all dealing with their own issues.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste of Feast of Love by Ceri Grenelle, along with my impressions of it, and discover even more about this book by visiting the other sites hosting this tour.  In honor of this third installment in the Croft Holidays series make sure to fill out the form for the chance to win an e-copy of the second installment in this series along with a $10 Amazon GC too!

Armie Croft just lost the last of his vision due to a degenerative disease, something that proves problematic as he bangs his head against the side of the JCA pool during a late night swim. Leighanne Misra, the nighttime lifeguard, jumps in to rescue him, followed by Mitch Karmi…who is wearing a suit and has no training when it comes to performing CPR. Soon after laughing at Mitch’s soaking wet clothes, and double checking to make sure Armie is alive and well, a steamy connection is forged between the three acquaintances.
Mitch wants to hide their ménage from the public, much to Armie and Leighanne’s dismay, but he negotiates and asks they at least have the week leading up to the first night of Hanukkah to themselves. The three lovers are stronger together but sometimes you never truly appreciate what you have until you’ve lost it.


“Another, Dearborne.” Armie pointed to the tumbler, or at least where he thought the tumbler was. Even over the noise of the bar, Leighanne could tell he was totally plastered and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. She was hooking up her guitar, helping her band set up all the other instruments. He clearly had no idea she was there. After coming onstage and spotting him slumped in such a defeated position against the bar, she’d decided to hang back and watch from afar. She was on a hunt, after all. She’d been up on the stage for thirty minutes, going over the set list with her bandmates, putting the microphones and drum set in the perfect position, all the while keeping a steady eye on her new friend.
Armie had shot back six glasses of a dark, amber liquid. Some he’d sipped, others he’d chugged like a teenager without an awareness for fine liquor. Armie was three sheets to the wind, and Leighanne was thoroughly concerned about him. She hadn’t mentioned anything before, but there had been alcohol on his breath that first night at the pool. Was this a regular thing for him? A person didn’t drink like that unless there was something churning up ash inside their heart.
“You’ve had enough, Armie,” Mr. Dearborne said, taking Armie’s glass away before Armie knocked it over with a wildly gesticulating hand. “I’m calling you a cab."
“I can do it myself.” Armie pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, waving it around. “Voice command.” He held it to his mouth, grinning like a fool. “Siri, where can I buy a new set of eyes? Mine are shit.” He snorted, seeming to think the sad joke absolutely hilarious.
Leighanne narrowed her eyes. Surely he couldn’t be drinking himself into a stupor because he was feeling sorry for himself. At Mr. Dearborne’s sigh, his head shake full of pity, it seemed like that was exactly what Armie was doing.
Armie slapped the table suddenly, his phone cracking against the wood. The people nearest had their mouths wide open in shock. Some laughed, knowing the idiot would regret his actions in the morning.
“I’m calling Nettie to come get you."
“She’s too busy with Josh."
“Then Ophi..."
“Pregnant, remember?” He laughed again, this one a pained, wheezing gasp, bordering on a sob. He looked so defeated, nothing like the playful swimmer she’d met the other night. What had changed so drastically from then to now? She couldn’t leave him alone like that, not in such a sorry state. She jumped off the stage, heading toward him.
“They’re both so happy, and I’m happy for them. My sisters deserve the best. Only the best. Do I deserve the best? Who knows? I can’t do anything for them now, and I can’t help them. Can’t protect them. Can’t watch their kids grow."
“Enough,” Leighanne said, taking his face and angling it toward her. “You’re more than just a blind man, Armie.” He had his glasses on, but she wanted to see him fully. When she tried to pull them off, he pushed her hands away, panicked.
“That’s no way to treat a lady."
They both turned in the direction of the deep voice. She sighed in relief as Mitchell pressed in between Armie and the next bar stool. She’d texted him after spotting Armie, but that was before she realized Armie was in no position to be hunted by either of them that evening. Now she was simply grateful to have his help.
Mitchell took in the scene, Armie’s slumped posture, his broken phone, Dearborne’s assessing glare. To Leighanne, it was easy to see what was happening; she only hoped Mitchell caught on to what was needed.
“I think it’s time for you to go home, my friend.” Mitchell nodded at Dearborne, an assurance that he would take care of the man.
“You know where he lives?” Dearborne asked.
Mitchell shook his head. “No, I planned on taking him to my place to sleep it off. I have a comfortable couch he’ll appreciate, one with a bucket in reach in case he needs it."
Dearborne waved that off. “He won’t need it. I’ve seen the kid drink more and not even have an inch of a headache in the morning. I’d almost be impressed if I didn’t know how much he’s been drinking recently. What’s got into you, Armie? Do your sisters know how many times you’ve been here this week?"
Leighanne and Mitchell exchanged worried glances. This might be more serious than they thought.
“They’re not my keepers.” Armie’s words were slurred. He had his head resting in the crook of his arm on the bar, slowing down.
“I’ll take care of the dumbass for the night."
Dearborne seemed satisfied with Mitchell’s promise and walked away to help another customer.
He smiled over at Leighanne, making her heart pinch despite her worry for Armie. “I’m sorry I won’t get to see you play. I heard your voice is amazing."
“You been asking about me?"
“Possibly. Discreetly."
“Do you need my help with him?"
“No, you stay. I’ll text you in the morning to let you know how he is."
“Okay.” She felt wrong with that decision, guilty and unsettled. “Are you sure?"
“What are you going to do, desert your band?"
She looked back at the stage. They were going on in ten minutes, and they had new music prepared for the night. Her new music. That she’d written. And to be honest, she would take any excuse not to perform it right then. They would be fine without her for a night; they’d done it before. They could just play the usual covers. Jesus, she was such a coward, but she would grab at any excuse to get the fuck out of there. And she was worried about Armie and she wanted to see Mitchell’s place.
“Yes. Well, not desert them.” She shook his concern away. “They’ll be fine without me tonight. Don’t leave yet."
“Leighanne,” she heard Mitchell call as she ran up to the stage.
She explained the situation to the guys, apologizing for the need to go help a friend. Roger, her bassist and housemate, looked at her with skepticism.
“Sure, Lee, but it’s not that you’re dead set against playing your kick-ass songs, right? You wouldn’t be using the excuse of a drunk friend to get out of this?"
“Fuck you, Rog. It’s nothing like that.” Oh, what a liar she was. “He needs me."
“Uh-huh. Go on, we’ll be fine for a night. But Lee?” Roger bent his knees, leaning over the edge of the stage, his dreads hanging like a willow tree. “We’re doing this new music next time. You’re doing it. You can’t keep hiding your talent from the world."
She rolled her eyes at that. Her talent. Right. “Fuck you."
“Fuck you back.” The exchange was familiar and affectionate. “Go take care of your friend. Dean will get the vocals for tonight.” Roger grabbed her coat and bag from behind the drum set and handed them to her, watching as she shrugged the down parka on. It was December in Connecticut, and it was hella cold.
“Thanks, guys.” She waved at the rest of them, appreciating their support and their indulgence as she ran away from something she’d been dreading.
Mitchell was struggling with a half passed out Armie when she returned to the bar, trying to get him out of the bar. Leighanne inserted herself on Armie’s opposite side, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, doing what she could to support his weight with such a great disparity between their heights.
“Thanks.” Mitchell grunted, hefting Armie off the bar stool completely. “Dearborne, can I get his tab?"
“Nah, he’s good for it,” the older man called, filling a pint from one of the many taps. “I know where he lives.” Dearborne pointed at the two of them, and damn if Leighanne didn’t think his wink was a bit lascivious. “You take care of that man. He needs a bit of tender love and care, if you know what I mean."
“Thanks, we’ll take it from here.” Either Mitchell didn’t understand Dearborne’s meaning or he chose to ignore it, but either way they were soon making their way through the crowded bar. “My car is just around the corner."
Leighanne prayed that Armie wouldn’t decide to throw up on them in the next few minutes, and concentrated on not slipping on the black ice on the sidewalk.
“Here.” Mitchell stopped at a black two-door Porsche.
“You serious?” Leighanne asked. She’d never even been in the presence of anything this expensive before. But that wasn’t her concern at the moment. “How are we going to get him and me in that tiny little thing?"
“It’s more spacious inside than it looks. Trust me."
“Unless it’s a police-box time machine, I highly doubt we’ll fit.” She hummed skeptically. The car was sexy and a little ridiculous. She always thought people with cars this expensive were either pompous idiots or those with something to prove. Mitchell didn’t seem to fit into either of those categories. In fact, she didn’t know what to make of him.
They maneuvered Armie into the backseat, strapped him in, then pushed the passenger seat forward to give his legs a bit more room.
“I’m gonna sit in the back with him.” Leighanne threw her stuff into the well of the passenger seat, then shut the door. She walked around the back of the car as Mitchell opened the driver’s door, then pushed the seat up so she could slide in back.
“Good idea.” He glanced around briefly, and before she could bend to step into the car, he backed her up against the window, his hands on her hips and his mouth covering hers in a searing kiss. He didn’t waste any time, didn’t act timid or delicate. His tongue was in her mouth within a second of touching her lips, and he inched his hands up and down her sides. She was almost ashamed to say she melted a little as liquid heat pooled between her legs, but the kiss was just that good. The man knew how to take control in the best of ways. “Hi there."
She laughed. “Hi. Is that how you say hi?"
“Only to people as sexy as you. Thank you for coming with me."
She kissed him lightly, unable to resist wanting more of him. “You’re welcome. But don’t forget, this is all part of the hunt."
“Ah, yes, the hunt.” Mitchell glanced inside the car. “Unfortunately our prey is rather passive for the evening."
She shrugged. “He won’t be passive in the morning."
“All right, huntress,” he said, lending her a hand as she settled into the backseat. “Let’s see what he thinks of this whole situation before tackling him. How does that sound?"
She sighed dramatically. “I suppose we can be civilized humans."
“Good because if you’re staying over, I’m putting you in a guest room for the night.” Mitchell snapped the door shut after getting into the car, and the expensive vehicle made a delightful growly sound as the engine kicked in. Okay, maybe she could see why he would want something so exorbitantly priced. “No way in hell are you sleeping in my bed without getting ravished."
Leighanne had trouble hiding her disappointment, made clear as Mitchell laughed at her pout after spotting it in the rearview mirror. But then she looked over at Armie and her libido took a backseat. She gently removed his glasses, tucking them into a side pocket on her messenger bag. His face was scrunched tight, his stubble a bit heavier and treading into beard territory. His mouth was firm and thin, stretched as though in a permanent grimace. She didn’t like the tension in his shoulders. How could someone passed out from drinking look that tense?
“We may not be hunting,” she said, reaching forward to play with his dark curls. “But we are definitely having a serious chat with him in the morning.” Doubt assailed her as it had at the JCA. How could a man she’d just met—two men in fact—want her so instantly? Was it possible she was overstepping her bounds with them? “Maybe he doesn’t want this."
“We’ll find out in the morning, huntress."
“You seriously going to keep calling me that?"
“You know you like it."
She did, but she’d never admit it.




Readers looking for a little afternoon delight amidst the chaos of the holidays will find this an erotic escape with just a bit of angst.  Along with its erotically-charged menage between three unique people there's a bit of sentimentality courtesy of the story being set during Hanukkah that will charm readers too.

This was a quick read with a romance based on insta-love as the three protagonists were practically jumping each other the moment they met after one of them had just been saved from near-drowning.  From there the chase is on to get each other into bed while dealing with the personal issues weighing each of them down.  For Armie, it's his going blind after a period of vision problems caused by a degenerative condition.  Though he thought he was prepared for the loss, it's clear he's anything but as he lashes out in anger while drinking himself into a stupor most nights.  He's self-destructing, and though he's close to his sisters, he doesn't want to feel like their burden after they've just found their own happiness.  Leighanne has self-esteem issues too and they're holding her back from showing her songs to the world.  Whenever the opportunity arises to sing them she runs the other way, content to play cover tunes and be just part of the band.  Mitchell may be new to town but he has very negative preconceived notions about small towns after a vile act left him bruised and broken inside and out.  Money can't buy happiness but his journey to this town sure had him trying.  The three of them make for an interesting coupling with each taking a distinct role.  Armie clearly demands control as everything else in his life has spiraled out of control.  He's clearly a dom and doesn't ever want to be seen as incapable in or out of the bedroom.  Leighanne isn't as fleshed out as her boys beyond her being the sweet girl with the hidden kinky side.  She was the mediator who pushed Armie and Mitch to deal with their problems who was a hard worker and loved making music.  Mitch was a rich man looking for a safe place to call home.  After being attacked for being gay he's been left leery, scared of coming back out of the closet, and it's a big roadblock in their relationship.  He has trust issues and flashbacks and it all might end their connection before it's barely begun.  With their individual issues hanging over them there was a feeling of desperation to their encounters. Because of Mitch it felt as though their time together was ticking away which added even more steam to their already scorching interludes, interludes that bordered on bdsm-lite and had each of them as the center of attention at one point or another.  At times it felt as if these encounters overpowered the story though, not allowing more characterization which is why I never felt too much for Leighanne.  By comparison Mitch and Armie were combustible together with a rawness that left me parched and fully invested in their pairing.

On a whole this was an entertaining read full of eroticism.  The bits of angst thrown in kept me engaged, especially Armie's disability, as with my being a disabled person I could understand his anger and need to control.  Those who enjoy menage romances might find this one a bit less memorable for the inequality amongst the lover's personalities.  Armie and Mitch had a crackling connection. They were outspoken and I cared about them and was consumed by their sensual tug of war.  Leighanne didn't leave that kind of impression with her serene nature, and though she enjoyed her time with her boys, there were times I wanted to push her out of the way.  Despite my issues with her the setting for this story set it apart from other menages as this time of year romances normally depict Christmas.  I thoroughly enjoyed this unique setting and subtle references to Hannukah which reinforced the notion of unconditional love and understanding felt by the denizens of this small town.  This part of the story was heartwarming and the perfect ending to a story whose characters struggled with issues of love and acceptance for being themselves.

My rating for this is a C+/B-

*I got this book from the author for review in exchange for my honest opinion.


Nettie Croft works tirelessly making sure people like and appreciate her, but her world is thrown off balance when she meets her sexy but rude new neighbor. She’s determined to get him to like her, but the more time they spend together, the more they argue. Nettie has to admit the dashing man might be the first she can’t win over, a thought she can’t get enough of, just like she can’t get enough of him.
Josh Dellinger just moved to a small Connecticut town to escape big city living and his nightmare of an ex-wife. He needs time and space to be himself, a plan that is thrown away the second he meets his determined new neighbor. She brings him cookies. No decent man can say no to a woman with cookies, especially one as gorgeous and thrilling as Nettie.
Nosy neighbors, a ridiculously sexy Zorro costume, and an old fashioned high school dance bring Josh and Nettie together, but will the shadows of Josh’s divorce and Nettie’s need for approval spook them for good, or will the romantic atmosphere of toilet papered trees and egged houses be enough to make them choose treats and kisses?



David Goldberg has wanted Ophi Croft since they were first introduced at a PTA meeting. She’s smart, talented, and has two awesome kids. When he finally gets her into his bed they share a beautiful night in each other’s arms, one he thinks is the start of a new relationship. But when she bolts in the morning and doesn’t return his calls, David fears their chance has passed.
Ophi Croft thinks David is the hottest, most eligible bachelor in town, and it thrills her to no end to discover he wants her as much as she desires him. But in the harsh light of the morning after their night together her nerves take over and she hides behind the excuse of being a full time single mother to get away from him.
When David arrives unexpectedly at Ophi’s Thanksgiving dinner, she knows she messed up and decides to win him back. However an unexpected but wonderful surprise forever changes the depth and nature of their relationship. Thanksgiving is a time to recognize those you love, David and Ophi need only open their eyes to see how much they have to be thankful for.




I’ve always had an active imagination. An imagination that usually took form in the way of zoning out in the middle of conversations. I eventually decided it was time to share my daydreaming with the world and began to put my musings on paper. It started with Harry Potter fanfiction and grew from there.
I am currently living it up in Northern California after a big move from New York City. And by living it up I mean staying home with my cats, obsessively watching episodes of my favorite TV shows, all of which are extremely geeky, and simultaneously reading the next book on my reading list. I do all this while trying not to pig out on unhealthy snacks. As you can tell, I lead a busy life.


Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Book Spotlight on Retreat by Jay Crownover

As a fan of Ms. Crownover's writing I consider each new book release of hers a gift.  We can now add sneaky to her list of accomplishments as she just released a compelling new title as a reward to her fans.  Keep reading to get a tantalizing taste of Retreat by Jay Crownover, the first installment in her Getaway Series, which introduces readers to the Warner brothers and the women who are drawn to their wildness.  Once you get a taste of this series starter make sure to add it to your bookshelf!

Every once in a while, you need to get away from it all.
I was a woman on the edge, shaken and shattered after a breakup that felt like it tore my entire world apart.
My best friend, sick of watching me drown in misery and melancholy, harassed me until I agreed to go with her on a week-long wilderness retreat.
She promised days spent bonding and getting in touch with our inner badasses. It was supposed to be all about the two of us roughing it and making do with the bare minimum. She assured me we were going to be pushed to our limits in ways that were unimaginable. Neither one of us could have ever guessed just how right she was.
Nowhere in the glossy brochure did it say anything about the fact I was going to have to battle the insufferable but deliciously rugged and sexy trail guide instead of the elements. The brochure also forgot to mention the part that warned when you left civilization behind, there was no place to pack your inhibitions and fears.
I was told that I would be facing a week where the only thing I should expect was the unexpected. However, no one mentioned that I was going to have to fight for my life…and my heart as soon as I ventured into the unknown.
I was a pro at hiding from my feelings but when it came time to face a real threat, one that could change everything, I learned I was more of a no surrender, no retreat kind of girl.




Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked MenThe Point, and the Saints of Denver series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she'll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs.