It’s release day for Sydney Logan’s Breathe Again, and I am so excited to share it with you! Check out the excerpt and release day goodies, and be sure to grab your copy of Breathe Again while it’s on sale!! About Breathe Again:
From the bestselling author of Songbird comes a story that will make you laugh, cry, and believe in the power of second chances.
Carrie Malone has seen enough heartbreak to last a lifetime.
Her family’s demons gave Carrie the courage to move away from home and leave her past behind. Now a college senior, she stays busy with her classes and her job at the diner. It may sound boring to some, but to Carrie, the very best thing about her new life is that every day is calm and blissfully uneventful.
That all changes the night Josh Bennett walks into her diner.
With his dirty designer suit and mud-caked shoes, Carrie’s not sure what to think about the broken man sitting at her counter. She’s even more confused when he doesn’t touch his coffee . . . and leaves his Rolex watch as a tip.
Josh Bennett has nothing to live for.
Starved for affection and deep in despair, he’s looking for a tender touch. A kind word. A giving heart.
A shattered and broken Josh finds himself standing on a city bridge, looking down into the freezing river that will undoubtedly bring an end to his pain.
He’s prepared to jump.
He’s prepared to die.
He’s not prepared for the pretty waitress who finds him there by the river’s edge.
When two lost souls find each other in the dark of the night, can they give each other a reason to breathe again?
Get you’re a copy today:
Breathe Again on Goodreads
Cold November air nips at my bare fingers, and I mutter a curse. Leaving my gloves at home isn’t the dumbest thing I’ve done lately, but it’s close.
You should’ve let Tony drive you home.
Pulling my jacket tighter around me, I quicken my pace. It’s just a few blocks between the diner and my apartment, but the cold air makes it feel like miles.
Flurries start to swirl, prompting me to walk a little faster. I’m just making my way across the Hart Street Bridge when something catches my eye.
A man’s standing next to the concrete barrier, looking down into the frigid water below.
Without a backwards glance, he places one leg over the edge.
My heart pounds in my chest. “No!”
His head jerks up, and there, under the lights of the city, my eyes lock with the man who left his watch on my counter.
So is he.
People keep walking. Cars keep moving. But my eyes remain fixed on the man straddling the concrete barrier—the only thing that’s keeping him from plunging into the icy river below us. I don’t know his name. I don’t know why he’s dressed like a beggar, and I certainly don’t know why he left his Rolex on my counter.
But in this moment, none of that matters.
I make sure the street is clear before walking across, keeping my movements slow as I approach him. The last thing I want to do is freak him out. For now, one leg is still on this side of the barrier, giving me hope that maybe he doesn’t really want to die tonight. Needing the support it provides, I hold onto the cold concrete and pray I say the right thing.
“What are you—”
“Leave me alone, Carrie.”
The fact that he’s coherent enough to remember my name gives me even more hope. But his voice . . . it’s raw and tinged with so much sadness that it nearly breaks my heart.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s none of your business. Go away.”
His eyes flash with anger.
“Don’t jump and maybe I’ll let you.”
It’s a ridiculous thing to say, but I’m desperate. He’d never survive the fall, and I already have enough guilt in my heart to last a lifetime. I don’t need this on my conscience, too.
The man blinks rapidly, as if he’s trying to comprehend what I said.
“Tempting, but trust me. I’m not worth saving.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Believe it,” he whispers. “Please, Carrie. Just . . . go.”
I shake my head and take a step closer.
Keep him talking.
“I don’t even know your name. You know mine. That’s not fair.”
He looks surprised. “You don’t recognize me?”
“Wow. That’s . . . refreshing, actually.”
I glance around. Surely someone has noticed us and called the cops by now. But I don’t hear sirens, so I keep talking, hoping the man will come to his senses.
I offer him my hand. “My name is Carrie Malone. What’s yours?”
The name sounds vaguely familiar.
“Nice to meet you, Josh. Now, would you please place both legs on this side of the barrier before I have a heart attack?”
Josh looks down into the river.
“Please? Let me call your family.”
It’s the wrong thing to say.
“My family’s dead, which is exactly what I should be. What I want to be.”
Join Sydney on Facebook at the Breathe Again Release Day Party - July 22 at 4:00 PM EST for author takeovers, games and prizes, including the $50 Amazon gift card grand prize!
About Sydney Logan:
Sydney Logan is the bestselling author of seven novels. She has also penned several short stories and is a contributor to Chicken Soup for the Soul. A lover of music, she fills her playlist with everyone from Johnny Cash to Eminem.
Sydney holds a Master’s degree in Elementary Education and spends her days surrounded by kids and books. A native of East Tennessee, she enjoys playing piano and relaxing on her porch with her wonderful husband and their very spoiled cat.
Visit her online at www.sydneylogan.com.
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Monday, July 25, 2016
Thursday, July 21, 2016
It was almost seven that evening when I felt the AC kick back on. I’d been lying on my back on the (relatively) cool tile floor behind the counter, staring up at the pressed-tin ceiling and trying to remember why I hadn’t already moved back to Seattle.
In Seattle it rained.
Cool breezes blew off the bay and the lush greenery covered everything with its shaded canopy. People didn’t really need air-conditioning, but if they happened to have it and it broke, there were lots of repair men available.
Of course, Seattle also had Brandon. Not only that, my dad didn’t want to move, and I’d come to realize I couldn’t leave him here alone. It wasn’t safe for him, not since Mom died.
At least the AC was working again, blowing down from the ceiling vent across my sweaty body, reminding me that while the world might not be crawling with perfect men, at least there were still a few useful ones running around. Cooper Romero was a keeper, and it had nothing to do with how sexy he was . . . although the fact that he was sex on a stick—make that sex with a stick—didn’t exactly diminish his appeal.
When I’d dragged him up to the black tar roof to show him the ancient AC, I’d expected him to make a run for it. Any sensible man would. Instead, he’d spent the whole afternoon busting his ass to save my chocolates—Oh God, I wish that were code for something more exciting—officially qualifying him as a superhero in my book.
As for me, there wasn’t much I could do once I got all the sweets safely downstairs into the basement. There weren’t any customers walking in off the street, and seeing as I couldn’t make or ship candy in a 102-degree shop, I’d alternated between attempting to read a book, looking over orders I couldn’t fulfill on my laptop, and bringing Cooper glasses of iced tea. I’d been nervous around him at first, but you can only stay nervous for so long when you’re sweating like a pig—there’s a certain freedom in knowing you look like hell and there’s no saving your hair. I’d thrown my arm across my eyes in a pathetic attempt to block out reality toward the end.
When cold air started flowing into the room, I could’ve cried with relief. He’d never had a chance to fill out the application form, and I’d long since decided it didn’t matter. Unless he was an ax murderer, I’d give him the apartment and the job.
Might give it to him even if he was, to be honest.
“It’s working again,” Cooper announced, and I jerked, startled. Shit, had I fallen asleep? Opening my eyes, I looked up to find him standing over me. Dear God in heaven—that was one hell of a bare chest.
I’d taken note of his build when he first walked in the shop, but everything under his shirt had been theoretical. Now there was six-foot-plus of raw sex appeal right there, all sweaty and sculpted and . . . well, let’s just say I’d be stopping off on the way home to pick up some fresh batteries.
That’s when the situation hit me—Cooper Romero was the hottest man I’d met in forever, and he’d just found me lying on the floor in my own sweat and filth like a dog. Typical luck. I scrambled to my feet, pretending I wasn’t totally embarrassed (I was) and not in the least bit freaked out by how unspeakably attractive this guy was. Okay, “attractive” wasn’t quite the right word, because it implied a certain level of polish and class that just didn’t fit Cooper at all.
Brandon was attractive.
I’d lick him all over and massage his butt if he asked. He stared down at me, his eyes carefully blank, making it very clear he wasn’t asking. Story of my fucking life. Sitting up, I pushed myself to my feet without bothering to dust off. Lost cause at this point.
“Not sure how much life the AC has left,” he said slowly. “I managed to get it going, but fixing it right would cost more than it’s worth and then some.”
Of course it would.
“I just need to get through the summer,” I told him, wiping a finger under my eye. My perfectly applied, vintage-style makeup had melted, leaving me with a clown face. Fortunately I’d (mostly) given up on caring three hours ago, right around the time I’d discovered the floor tiles were cooler than the rest of the room. “After that, I’ll worry about the furnace and by next summer I might not even be here anymore.”
“Really?” he asked, cocking a brow. “You selling out?”
“Not sure,” I told him. “I’m not thinking that far ahead right now. Things are very iffy with my dad . . . I think he’s got some—”
No. I couldn’t say it. Saying it out loud made it too real, plus the last thing I needed were a bunch of rumors flying around town. So far we’d kept dad’s situation mostly to family and friends.
Shaking myself, I smiled at him. “Thank you so much for fixing that. I’m not even sure what I would’ve done—I can’t afford to miss a week’s worth of orders. Not only would it put me behind, it would burn my customers.”
He nodded, studying me thoughtfully. God, he really was beautiful . . . Nothing like Brandon’s polished sophistication. No, Cooper gave off more of a warrior-tossing-you-over-his-fearless-steed kind of vibe. Yeah, like that would end well, because my track record with men was so fucking perfect, right?
Pull your head out of the gutter. He probably has a girlfriend.
At least I could finally lock up this hellhole of a shop and get a shower.
“Thank you so much—you have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“No, but the whole throwing yourself at my feet thing was a subtle hint,” he said, and I realized he was teasing me. Was he flirting? I couldn’t decide if that kicked ass or scared the shit out of me.
“Anyway, it’s getting late,” I told him, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’m going to grab some dinner down the street, and then I could take you over and show you the apartment.”
A small, knowing smile crossed his face, and I realized he thought I was hitting on him.
“No,” I said quickly, mortified. “I wasn’t asking you out. Omigod, this is weird.”
“What, you aren’t turned on by a man who smells like old socks?” he asked lightly, raising his arm and giving a sniff. He was joking, but the sweat wasn’t a turnoff. Nope. Not even a little bit. “If that’s not enough for you, the roof tar on my ass should be a big attraction.”
Closing my eyes, I bit back a groan. He started laughing. Not in a cruel way, but companionably, which I guess made sense because both of us were disgusting as hell. Of course, now I wanted to check out his ass, but I managed to keep my eyes on target (mostly) when I answered him.
“Well, it’s sexy but I’ll manage to control myself somehow. I do want to grab dinner, though, and we need to figure out the apartment details.”
“I’ll take the place, doesn’t matter what it is,” he replied. “I’m in a hotel and it’s getting old. I’d love to move in on Sunday, but I can’t go look at it right now—gotta get my ass cleaned up. Meeting up with someone later.”
Of course he was, because men who looked like Cooper didn’t spend Friday nights alone.
“Sounds great,” I told him, refusing to show any disappointment. “Just text me when you’re ready, and I’ll get you the key.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden pounding against the locked shop door caught us both off guard. I spun around to find Talia Jackson glaring at me through the glass. Talia and three of her skankier friends, including Sadie Baxter, a girl I used to babysit when I was in college.
A girl who was now twenty.
“Cooper!” Talia shouted. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I glanced at my new handyman, startled. Talia Jackson and her brother, Marsh, were two of the nastiest people I’d ever met. Marsh was president of the local motorcycle gang, a group called the Nighthawk Raiders motorcycle club. The club had been around most of my life, but it was only in recent years that they’d turned really bad. I mean, they were never the kinder, gentler sort of bikers, but I’d never been actively afraid when I’d heard a motorcycle, either.
Now? Let’s just say we’d all gotten a little edgy.
“That’s my girl,” Cooper said, and something deep down inside of me died a little. Of course he’d go for someone like Talia. She might have the heart of a deranged circus clown—you know, the kind that survives by eating the souls of innocent children—but she was hot.
Not only that, she was slutty, and while I wasn’t into the whole slut-shaming thing (like I had room to judge after the bachelorette party debacle . . . ugh), I wasn’t naive enough to think he was attracted to her personality. Cooper Romero might have a sweet smile, and he’d fixed my AC, but now I had proof positive that he’d never be into a girl like me.
Specifically, a grown-up with curves.
All righty, then. Probably for the best anyway.
“Just a sec!” I called to her, determined to take the high road, then I grabbed my keys so I could open the door. She pushed inside with her posse, and I do mean pushed. Little bitch shoved me so hard I nearly knocked over the display of antique Russian teacups my mother had lovingly collected. (So far as I knew, she’d never sold a single one of them, but it’d made her happy.)
“Careful,” I warned, and Talia turned on me.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Babe, let’s talk,” Cooper said, catching her arm and pulling her into his body. She squealed, going from aggressive to flirty in an instant.
“You’re all sweaty. It’s sooo disgusting.”
I noted she wasn’t trying to get away. Cooper smiled down at her, a hint of something feral in his eyes. Yeah, okay—whatever smile he’d been giving me, it hadn’t held any of that kind of intensity.
Yours truly was officially chopped liver.
“I was just about to head out and grab a shower,” he told her. “Wanna come with me?”
She pouted. “I can’t. The girls and I need to get fixed up. I’ll see you at the bar, though, right?”
He looked down at her, offering a sexy, indulgent smile. “Can’t wait.”
“Perfect,” she said, reaching around to grab his ass for a quick squeeze. Then she turned and strutted back out without a word to me, her gaggle of girls following like well-trained geese. Sadie gave a little finger wave on the way. The door closed behind them with a cheerful little jingle, and I wondered why the hell I even bothered with Hallies Falls.
I missed Seattle.
So what if it had Brandon? I could drown him in Lake Washington. Problem solved.
“Sorry about that—Talia is a little high-strung,” Cooper said.
“Oh, I know all about her,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as catty as I felt. Cooper didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m new to town, but she’s been showing me around,” Cooper continued, stepping over to stand in front of me, hands shoved deep in his front pockets. “I should get going.”
“Of course—don’t let me keep you. What time do you think you’ll be in touch tomorrow?”
“No problem. Looking forward to hearing from you.”
He nodded and pushed through the door, walking down the street without a second look back. I locked up behind him, wondering why all the hottest guys were douchebags. Not that Cooper had acted like a douche, but he had to be my age or older—late thirties—and Talia was the same age as Sadie. She was also a raging bitch. There was only one reason a man like him would date a girl like that, and it had nothing to do with personality or character.
Cooper Romero might be beautiful, but obviously he was shallow. Suppose it was too much to hope for a man who could fix an air conditioner and have a soul at the same time.
Are you ready for Gage and Tinker’s story?
Reaper’s Fire releases on August 9th!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1mD6Sma
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1IOuRJI
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1SxRDaQ
New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde returns to the “wild and raw”* world of the Reapers MC with the story of Gage and Tinker…
The club comes first.
I’ve lived by those words my whole life—assumed I’d die by them, too, and I never had a problem with that. My Reaper brothers took my back and I took theirs and it was enough. Then I met her. Tinker Garrett. She’s beautiful, she’s loyal, and she works so damned hard it scares me sometimes . . . She deserves a good man—one better than me. I can’t take her yet because the club still needs me. There’s another woman, another job, another fight just ahead.
Now she’ll learn I’ve been lying to her all along. None of it’s real. Not my name, not my job, not even the clothes I wear. She thinks I’m nice. She pretends we’re just friends, that I’ve still got a soul . . . Mine’s been dead for years. Now I’m on fire for this woman, and a man can only burn for so long before he destroys everything around him.
I’m coming for you, Tinker.
Have you heard?
Reaper’s Property by Joanna Wylde has a NEW COVER!
Meet Horse & Marie for ONLY $3.99 (normally $7.99)
Author’s Note: This book was originally released through a small publisher in 2013. This independent edition has been lightly edited, and contains a bonus short, “Sticky Sweet” (originally published on the author’s website) and a Q&A with the author.
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/29FeMde
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2a8RfSt
About the Author
Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.
Friday, July 15, 2016
The highly anticipated second book in #1 New York Times Bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout’s Wicked Trilogy is releasing July 19, 2016! Check out all of the stops on the Review Tour and be sure to grab your copy of TORN!
Torn between duty and survival, nothing can be the same.
Everything Ivy Morgan thought she knew has been turned on its head. After being betrayed and then nearly killed by the Prince of the Fae, she’s left bruised and devastated—and with an earth-shattering secret that she must keep at all costs. And if the Order finds out her secret, they’ll kill her.
Then there’s Ren Owens, the sexy, tattooed Elite member of the Order who has been sharing Ivy’s bed and claiming her heart. Their chemistry is smoking hot, but Ivy knows that Ren has always valued his duty to the Order above all else—he could never touch her if he knew the truth. That is, if he let her live at all. Yet how can she live with herself if she lies to him?
But as the Fae Prince begins to close in on Ivy, intent on permanently opening the gates to the Otherworld, Ivy is running out of options. If she doesn’t figure out who she can trust—and fast—it’s not only her heart that will be torn apart, but civilization itself.
I have been waiting for this book since well it seems like forever LOL but hey I've said it before and I will say it again, I will wait for as long as it takes...(at least 3 years before I grow restless.)
Torn picks up right where Wicked left off and I mean right there it starts no flashback just starts off like heeeyyy I'm back. Once I started I couldn't stop it. This book much like Wicked had me entranced. Parts had me laughing (thanks Tink and Ren), parts made me mad, (stupid Prince) others made me gasp (I can't say what part cuz you aint gettin no spoilers). I love this world so much. I love the French Quarter. I love Ivy and Ren. Tink is my absolute favoritist <--- is that even a word? *Shrugs* (but you get what I'm saying ) ummm...well Tink is a brownie, fairy, sprite? whatever he's my favs!
One of the questions that left me burning was Val. I really wanted to know what the was wrong with her but well you have to read the book to know what she says about things. Then there is this part where my heart hurt, it hurt for Ivy and Ren. Just when I thought I was okay I got super pissed yelling at Ivy to not be stupid I mean SERIOUSLY how could you? I reeled in my feelings though just to get super upset again because of the damn Prince. Ugh he's so arrogant and such a dick face. The members of the Order well, damn for the most part we don't see too much of them but IDK I'm still debating how I feel about them. I know they're the "good guys" but something doesn't sit right with me.
Tink oh my Tink. He is as hilarious as ever and ordering everything off Amazon still. He and Ren still go at it, making me laugh. I want Tink to get his own book because he's just too damn much. There is a part in the book that threw me for a loop. I mean my Tink looking like that hahaha I can't even imagine it.
Overall once again Jennifer has done an amazing job. I have no idea how she gets these ideas for books and make them so unique. Torn had me laughing, pissed, on the verge of tears and anxious as hell for all the characters. I had no idea which way Jen would take this book but she did an extraordinary job. I felt everything and I can't wait for book 3 Brave to get into my stingy little hands. When a book can have you thinking about it for days after you finished you know damn well it's a great book! Highly recommend and if you haven't read book 1 get on that shizz now.
Things are about to get Wicked in New Orleans…
Don’t miss the first title in the series, WICKED!
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#1 New York Times and #1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing, she spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, and hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki. Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her book Obsidian has been optioned for a major motion picture and her Covenant Series has been optioned for TV. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA. She also writes Adult and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.