#BlogTour #Excerpt – Shelter by Rhyll Biest (@rhyllbiest) @LoveReadRomance

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Delighted to be back for another stop on Rhyll’s blog tour, courtesy of Love Read Romance! This time I have an excerpt to share with you which will hopefully tickle your bookworm tastebuds, enough, to click the buy link!

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Excerpt.

Injury was not a worry, she knew from statistics that yoga or cycling could break bones or
sprain limbs just as easily as a self-defence class. Still. She pictured herself wrestling a two-hundred-pound correctional officer or, worse, wrestling with this man. Her eyes went to the massive forearm resting on the car door and she couldn’t help picturing it hooked
around her throat as Luka stood behind her applying a loving, therapeutic rear choke hold.
A shockwave lurched through her, and it wasn’t fear. No, fear would have been too healthy, too normal for her.

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#Tour! #Review of Secret & Fries at the #StarlightDiner – Helen Cox @Helenography @Avonbooksuk

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Absolutely thrilled to be today’s stop on the blog tour for Helen Cox and her newest release; ‘Secrets & Fries at the Starlight Diner’! This book is the second book in the Starlight Diner series and was released by Avon Books UK on the 16th December 2016! I haven’t read the first book (yet), but luckily I didn’t need to read it first to make sense of the story. It does now mean that I will be buying it and reading it ASAP thanks to this book! Today I have an excerpt from the book as well as my review. Hope you enjoy!

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Blurb.

What brings Bonnie Brooks to The Starlight Diner? And why is she on the run?

As the front-woman in a band, Bonnie is used to being in the spotlight, but now she must hide in the shadows.

Bonnie only has one person who she can turn to: her friend Esther Knight, who waitresses at the Fifties-themed diner. There, retro songs play on the jukebox as fries and sundaes are served to satisfied customers. But where has Esther gone?

Alone in New York City, Bonnie breaks down in front of arrogant news reporter, and diner regular, Jimmy Boyle. Jimmy offers to help her. Can she trust him?

When the kindly owner of the Starlight Diner offers Bonnie work, and she meets charming security officer Nick Moloney, she dares to hope that her luck has changed. Is there a blossoming romance on the cards? And can Bonnie rebuild her life with the help of her Starlight Diner friends?

What does TWG think?

I need to admit something! Before I began reading Helen’s new book, I assumed that it would be a candyfloss style read. I don’t read blurbs you see, so I try to guess the book by the cover. It is safe to say that my guess was way, WAY off with this one.

Bonnie is definitely a character to remember. She’s quirky, bolshy and isn’t afraid to ensure that she’s noticed. However, things aren’t as they seem and soon enough, Bonnie lands herself in a bit of hot water at the diner she just happened to ‘stumble’ across. Seeing as I assumed that the storyline would be more candyfloss than pancakes and syrup, I had no expectations of the storyline itself. When Bonnie appeared in the diner trying to find her friend, it didn’t take me long to work out that this book would have more sustenance than even pancakes and syrup!

Every chapter seemed to unearth yet another quizzical circumstance and leave me with unanswered questions. More characters appeared on the scene and took the book up another notch, whilst still leaving a lot of boxes unticked. I had no idea where the storyline was headed but I was super excited to find out!

As well as a FABULOUS book soundtrack that you may find yourself singing along to whilst you read, Helen has laced the entire book with on point humour and dry one liners. Absolutely brilliant.

Secrets and Fries was definitely a book that kept on giving and I was pretty disappointed when it ended. Every single character added to the ambience of the diner (and the storyline) in their own unique ways, making the unfolding storyline even more of a surprise.

I wouldn’t have minded if this book had a candyfloss feel to it (sweet, fluffy) don’t get me wrong, but I am rather pleased that I ended up wrong with my guess and that the Starlight Diner just kept on surprising me.

Full of songs to job your memory, food to tickle your tastebuds, humour to knock your funny bone and a superb, gripping storyline, what more could anyone want? I really do hope that we get to visit the Starlight Diner again, I am already having withdrawal symptoms! A must read by the fabulous Helen Cox.

Thank you Avon Books UK.

Secrets & Fries at the Starlight Diner is available to buy now in e-book from Amazon UK.
If my review hasn’t convinced you enough, here is an excerpt in case you need a smidge more convincing:

Excerpt of Secrets & Fries at the Starlight Diner by Helen Cox.

Even in my sleep I wasn’t safe from those vacant eyes, the colour of copper. Once again, they had stared at me out of the darkness, all the memories and hopes sieved out of them. Drained out of the bullet hole punched through his right temple.

I whimpered and my body slackened in Jimmy’s grasp. My heart was still hammering at the thought of what I’d just relived.

What I’d witnessed four nights ago.

Even now, the gunshot still echoed in my ears.

‘I’m so sorry,’ was all I could think of to say to Jimmy, who was crouching in front of me, his hands still resting on my arms.

‘For what?’ he shook his head.

‘Just, everything,’ I croaked. ‘For waking you up. For being a wreck. God…’ I put a hand over my mouth to hold in the disturbing truth loitering on the tip of my tongue.

‘I’ve seen worse.’ A soft smile displaced the hard lines on Jimmy’s face. I took in a deep breath, and then another, realising there was a hint of mandarin in the atmosphere and that it was coming from Jimmy. He’d showered off all of that musty cologne before going to bed. Now he just smelled fruity. And soapy.

‘You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on here?’ Jimmy stared at me.

I swallowed hard. But didn’t say anything. If I did, it could mean his life.

‘Nowhere to go. Nightmares. A makeover from the beauty school of Cyndi Lauper. You’re clearly in some kinda trouble. Don’t need to be good at reading people to see that.’ Jimmy scratched his head. ‘Maybe I can help… Who’s Frankie?’

I started and looked back into his brown eyes. Neat. I couldn’t even keep my trap shut while I was asleep. He moved from his crouching position and sat on the arm of the sofa I’d been sleeping on. It was upholstered in fabric the shade of chewy caramel, but wasn’t nearly as soft as it promised to be. Still, it was better than the sidewalk or a park bench, which is right where I’d be without Jimmy.

I sat up properly, but kept my feet covered with the yellow sheets and stared up again at the map of New York State hanging on his wall.

Perhaps confiding in Jimmy would make me feel better. He was a reporter. He probably had connections. But what if he told me to go to the cops about my situation? I’d already tried that back in Atlantic City, and had nearly died doing it. If I didn’t go to the police myself, maybe Jimmy would and I didn’t know for sure how far Frankie’s influence stretched. It could be limited to Atlantic City, but I doubted it. He’d been around long enough. I had to assume he had informants on this side of the Hudson.

Peeling my eyes away from Jimmy’s wall art, I looked over at him.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way or nothing, but I can’t tell you what’s going on.

There is somethin’, obviously, but I really can’t say what it is,’ I said, running my fingers through my hair and straightening out a knot I found in the back. Flattening it down as best I could.

‘You don’t trust me.’ Jimmy lowered his gaze down to the lime-green carpet, which seemed to line the floors of every room in the whole apartment, save the kitchen area behind the sofa where he’d had wood-effect lino fitted.

‘It’s not that. If I tell you, it could be dangerous. It’s better you don’t know.’

‘Maybe you oughta let me worry about myself,’ he said staring back at me.

can’t risk it,’ I shook my head and looked down at my fingernails. They were painted with black nail polish that was chipped to hell from strumming my guitar.

For once Jimmy didn’t have some wisecrack to make but I heard him sigh and could see him shaking his head out of the corner of my eye.

I had to get him off this subject quick.

‘You got a record player?’ I asked, tilting my head to one side. He paused, frowning at the question.

‘Yeah I got a record player, I’m not a caveman.’ He reached a hand down to Louie who’d been whining off and on and gave the short fur on his head a ruffle.

‘Mind if I play a record or two?’

Jimmy squinted his eyes just enough at the corners to let me know he was well aware I was trying to throw him off the scent. Then he looked at his watch, which I guess never left his wrist since he’d just jumped out of bed. ‘It’s three in the morning.’

‘Music always makes me feel better,’ I said, with a small pout to my lips. Something about the way I did it must’ve amused Jimmy because a smug smile came over his lips.

‘Alright,’ he replied.

Pushing aside the sheets, I stood in my purple plaid nightshirt and walked barefoot over to the corner with the lamp where I’d left my suitcase about three hours ago. Louie scampered over to join me and I gave him a quick pat whilst kneeling to open the clasp on my luggage. Lifting the lid, I pushed aside the sweater dresses and T-shirts I’d thrown in before bolting for Atlantic City bus station. Underneath my toothbrush and my notebook, where I wrote down all the song lyrics I never shared with anyone, was a small pile of 45s. A modest selection of the best records from the last three decades.

I felt the heat of Jimmy’s breath on my neck as he squatted down near me. He was looking over my right shoulder and goosebumps pushed up through my skin at the thought of him being that close. It’d been too long since I’d had a guy that close to me. For the last few years my major concern had been making enough money to pay rent. But showing my parents I could make it on my own had been harder than I’d thought it would be and as a result my love life had been sort of on the back-burner.

‘That’s what you choose to pack in an emergency? Records?’ said Jimmy, waving a hand at my suitcase.

‘Yeah, just the essentials,’ I said, turning in his direction and trying again to look at his face rather than his chest.

‘Any good ones?’

‘Only the best ones.’ I made a show of looking insulted.

‘Alright, let’s hear one.’

‘Hmm. This one.’ I passed him a record in an orange sleeve. He took it and held it close to his face to read in the dim light.

‘“Concrete & Clay” by Unit 4 + 2.’ He shook his head at me. ‘Never heard of it.’

‘Then you’ve never heard really great music.’ I smiled. ‘Play it.’

With a shrug, Jimmy walked over to a small nook near the TV I hadn’t spotted before. It was stacked up high with old, folded newspapers but once they were lifted away a small music centre appeared underneath, complete with a record deck on top. Jimmy blew the dust off it and set the record in place. I walked over to the window and drew back the orange curtains, gazing down to the empty Brooklyn street four storeys below. Tinged yellow by the streetlamps, from this angle the world outside was a jigsaw of fire escape ladders, blacked out windows and water hydrants.

There was nobody out there. Not that I could see, anyway.

The scratch of the record sounded out, followed by the metallic chime of a cymbal right before the sprightly rhythm kicked in. I turned back to face the room and leaned with my back against the wall, running my fingertips over the cheap woodchip. Closing my eyes, I let the music surround me and at the sound of Tommy Moeller’s rich, smooth voice, my shoulders loosened, the tension bleeding out of me.

As the first chorus played out, Jimmy said, ‘That is a good record.’

I opened my eyes. Jimmy stood a few paces away at the record player. Still shirtless, and apparently confident enough about his body not to think about it. Still, he looked, to me, somehow vulnerable in his part-unclothed state. So much softer than I’d first thought him in the diner, when he was making suggestive comments and ogling everything south of my chin.




#BlogTour! Brides & Bouquets by Rebecca Raisin (@jaxandwillsmum) @LoveReadRomance @HQDigitalUK

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Whoop! It’s publication time again for the fabulous Rebecca Raisin and book two in the Cedarwood Lodge series, Brides & Bouquets! Congratulations! Not too long ago you saw social media buzzing as the first book in the series, Celebrations & Confetti, was published. In case you missed it, you can find my review for the previous book here: #Tour! Celebrations & Confetti by Rebecca Raisin (@jaxandwillsmum) @LoveReadRomance @UKCarina

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Blurb.

Christmas has come to Cedarwood Lodge in the second part of the feel-good romance serial from best selling author, Rebecca Raisin!

Dreaming of a happily ever after at Cedarwood Lodge is Clio Winters’ current focus, especially with a winter wonderland wedding expo planned. But with brides coming from far and wide the heat is on for Clio to fulfil everyone’s dream of a Christmas wedding!

It seems like Clio’s new business might be off to a rocky start and surrounded by love struck brides she can’t help but hope for a little Christmas romance of her own…

Cedarwood Lodge is a delectable romance told in three parts – following Clio Winters journey back to her hometown of Evergreen. This is Part Two.

What does TWG think?

It only feels like yesterday that we were giving a warm welcome to Clio Winters and Cedarwood Lodge! Luckily for us though, barely any time at all has passed and she is BACK! Well, technically she isn’t back as she didn’t leave Cedarwood Lodge in between books…you know what I mean. ANYWAY!

Brides & Bouquets is centred around what Clio does best; wedding planning. However, wedding planning at Cedarwood Lodge is a bit different for Clio this time around, as she is working with an unfinished lodge. Will Clio and her Cedarwood army be able to turn Cedarwood lodge into a wedding haven for her bride visitors?

I have been so excited about this book ever since I finished reading ‘Celebration’s and Confetti’. Such a moreish storyline with intriguing characters, my expectations were rather high for Brides & Bouquets! I believe that this series can be read standalone, but in my honest opinion, I would advise that you read them in order, from the beginning otherwise you might end up wondering who the pansy everyone is.

It did take me a little while to warm up to the storyline. I genuinely thought that I could slip back into it as if I hadn’t been away, but I felt like a bride with cold feet. It could be the fact that I had read the first book a few weeks ago, read quite a few books and come back to the series again…I may have sabotaged myself. Anyway, once I got into it, the storyline warmed me up like a cup of hot cocoa by the fire!

The descriptions of each room, the Christmas tree, as well as items from the bridal expo made me feel as though I was in Cedarwood Lodge myself, seeing everything with my very own eyes. Surreal feeling!

I must admit, this review is a bit difficult to write as I am having to be super careful not to give anything away, especially as every situation in the book is very closely linked to another. Just to clarify, that isn’t a bad thing! Not for you anyway, it is for me as I want to tell you ALLLLLL of it, but I can’t. That would be mean.

I found myself liking Clio even more in this book as we got to see more of her personality, as well as watching her grow as a person. She has more of an edge to her this time but I have a feeling that there is more to her that we haven’t seen yet. Compared to the first book in the series, Brides and Bouquets felt more emotional in a way I can’t really explain, definitely positive though!

Brides and Bouquet is a heart-warming tale that may leave you wanting to change your career straight after reading it. Full of fabulous humour, likeable characters and a truly cosy setting, this book will warm you from the inside out and fill your heart with a bouquet of joy!

Thank you LRR, Rebecca and HQDigitalUK

Buy links.

Amazon | Amazon UK | B&N | Google Play | Goodreads

Excerpt.

Clio,

I hope the bridal expo goes off without a hitch. Have I told you yet that I’m glad you came home? Life was never really the same after you left. Looking forward to that dinner whenever you’re free.

Timothy x

Life was never really the same? But he got married and had a family about three minutes after I was out of sight! I’m sure I wasn’t on his mind one little bit. I didn’t hold any grudge or strong feeling about it – we’d been so young, really. But still, he had moved on fairly quickly. Would something bloom between us if I just let go and lived for the moment? The same niggle bothered me. Kai. Even if nothing happened with him, would it be fair to date Timothy when secretly my heart beat a double rhythm when I thought of my Australian surfer guru?

Taking my cell, I hastily sent Timothy a thank you text back, avoiding any talk about the dinner date invitation.

This was why I loved work. Being busy gave me the ability to shelve any boy dilemma and focus on the task at hand. I found a crystal vase and took the bouquet to my office. That done, I went back to the ballroom and checked off my list.

Every vendor was accounted for, set up and ready to go. Isla and Micah had the activities organized. Aunt Bessie was getting her donuts out of the van and ready to serve… so what was I missing? I’d forgotten something, I could feel it.

I wandered around the tables we’d set up in different themes, lifting champagne flutes, checking for smudges. The cutlery was lined up perfectly reflecting prisms of light from the chandeliers. Georges would serve canapes as soon as the guests –

Georges! Normally he’d be singing and bellowing in the kitchen, foodie scents wafting down the hallway making my mouth water, but I hadn’t seen him arrive yet. I dashed down the hall to check. The kitchen was empty, not a pot on the stove and more worryingly not a sign of Georges. Snatching up the phone I called him, picturing the worst – a car crash, the roads were slippery this time of year. My heart was in my throat by the time he answered on the third ring.

“Hi Clio, did you get my message? I’m sorry to let you down like this, but I couldn’t say no, you understand, don’t you?”

Blood drained from my face as I checked my watch. Three hours until our brides were due and my chef was telling me he wasn’t coming. Trying to halt the erratic beat of my heart I said, “What message, Georges? Where are you?”

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Author Info

Rebecca Raisin is a true bibliophile. This love of books morphed into the desire to write them. She’s been published in various short story anthologies and in in fiction magazines, and is now focusing on writing romance. Rebecca aims to write characters you can see yourself being friends with. People with big hearts who care about relationships, and most importantly believe in true love.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Tour Schedule

 

‘The Wave’ by Lochlan Bloom(@LochlanBloom) -Blog tour! @NeverlandBT

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Thank you to NeverlandBT for inviting me on the tour for Lochlan Bloom and ‘The Wave’! Today I will be bringing you an excerpt, as well as the all important details and to buy links for ‘The Wave’. Enjoy!

Excerpt.

Hidden

Outside it was hot. μ marched away from the Morgan building under a dark
cloud. He didn’t understand exactly what had unfolded in the professor’s study, but he
couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow he had transgressed. What he had done and
what he was accused of remained obscure to him but nonetheless painfully real.
What was so terrible if they chose to have a relationship? Wijklawski had all
but suggested it was immoral. What right did that old man have to make judgements?
Indeed what right did anyone have to pass judgement on the sort of relationships he
had? What did he care?

The other students infuriated him, carelessly lolling on the grass or engaged in
lazy ball games, happy that the term was over and they were free to relax. He
quickened his pace. What had any of this to do with that foolish old man? He could
take her or leave her. That would show them both if he did just cut things off. But was
that what they wanted?
He hated feeling like a naughty child. Why did he have to convince himself that
he had done nothing wrong? Alberta was not Wijklawski’s property.
He wanted to get as far away from the university and the campus as possible.
The town was busy at this time of day and he thought of taking a bus to the
countryside, but the idea of being trapped inside a vehicle with other passengers was
repugnant.

He walked through the park in a rage. The sun was bright overhead and the
stone buildings that lined its edges glistened keenly. μ took no notice. The dark
shadows under the trees appeared somehow more luminous.
μ stomped away from the centre of town, following a path that ran parallel to
the course of a small river. It was well into summer and the river, which was really
more of a stream and was never particularly plentiful, had run dry. He looked at the
banks in disgust, kicking a stone into the empty riverbed. It seemed to signify
something, but again he was at a loss as to exactly what.

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Blurb.

When μ returns home to find a sinister screenplay has arrived from Brazil it
propels him on a quest to track down a character he believes to be
called Ddunsel.
As μ’s search progresses it slowly becomes entangled with two parallel tales –
the stories of DOWN, a troubled publisher, and David Bohm, a real-life quantum
theoretician in post-war São Paulo.
Just how far is it from London to Gotham City? Or from Paul Auster to Pierre
Menard for that matter?  Some people may think these sorts of questions are idle
and ultimately meaningless but this book is not for them.
The Wave combines multiple narratives to blend metafiction, historical
fiction and screenplay as each of the characters struggles to understand what is
reality and what is fiction.

Buy links

Bio

Lochlan Bloom is the author of the The Wave as well as the short
novellas Trade and The Open Cage. The BBC Writersroom describes his writing
as ‘unsettling and compelling… vivid, taut and grimly effective work’. He has
written for BBC Radio, Litro Magazine, Porcelain Film, IronBox Films, EIU, H+
Magazine and Calliope, the official publication of the Writers’ Special Interest
Group (SIG) of American Mensa, amongst others. Lochlan lives in London and
does not have a cat or a dog.

TWG is on tour again with T.A.Williams! Excerpt anyone?

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Excerpt – What Happens at the Beach…by T.A.Williams

Just then, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a visitor.

‘Ah, here he is, Natalie. This is my special friend. I forgot to tell you about him. He comes to visit me every day.’ She sounded very animated. Natalie looked up and saw that the object of her attention was a handsome black Labrador with a red collar who had appeared round the side of the house and was heading straight for the table. He was wagging his tail enthusiastically and he came across and nuzzled Colette with his nose. He sat down beside her and put a paw on her thigh.

‘What a beaut.’ Natalie had always loved dogs and her grandmother had always had a dog in the house until the last few years. ‘Where does he come from?’

Hearing her voice, the dog relinquished Colette and trotted round to Natalie’s side. He looked up at her with big brown eyes and Natalie fell instantly in love with him. The feeling was obviously mutual as the dog reared up on his hind legs and did his best to climb onto her lap. Kindly, she pushed him back onto the ground and took the big black head in both hands. ‘Who needs a stupid fiancé when there’s a handsome chap like you around? And where’ve you come from?’

‘I think he’s from the chateau. You know it was sold last autumn?’ Natalie vaguely recalled her grandmother telling her something to that effect, but she had been here so rarely over the past few years. ‘It’s been bought by some rich people, most probably for a holiday home. At least, that’s what I hear from Marie who got the news from Maître Delatour. They’re foreign, maybe even English.’ A note of regret entered Colette’s voice. ‘No surprise there. All the most beautiful places are being bought up by foreigners and turned into holiday homes. The local people can’t afford to buy houses down here any longer. It’s a real problem.’

By this time the dog had collapsed onto his back on the flagstones and was grunting happily to himself as Natalie scratched his tummy. ‘So does he have a name?’ She spotted a medallion hanging from the dog’s bright red collar. Squinting down at it, she saw that it only bore a telephone number, no name.

‘I call him Charlie and he doesn’t seem to mind.’ No surprise there. All the dogs her grandparents had ever had had been called Charlie. Up till now they had all been cocker spaniels, but the name seemed to suit the big black dog just as well. Natalie looked down at him again.

‘So, Charlie, would you like a biscuit?’ The dog clearly understood what was on offer. He rolled to one side and leapt to his feet, tail wagging. Natalie glanced across at her grandmother. ‘Have you been giving him bad habits?’

What happens at the beach..is available to buy right now from Amazon UK

Jetting off again to Paris as TWG goes back on tour with Rebecca Raisin & ‘The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower’!

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Good morning my lovely readers! I’m jetting off for a fleeting visit to Paris today. I’m taking someone rather special with me, you may have heard of her; Rebecca Raisin? Author of ‘The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower’? Author of the ‘Gingerbread Cafe’ series? You love her books right, me too!
Today I have the honour of kicking off Rebecca’s tour hosted by the fantastic Karan at KERPTours. To kick off a blog tour for an author is a wonderful privilege, and it means so much to me to be able to start off the tour for an author that I have read and loved for ages. Major fangirl moment!

Lets get started then shall we? Rebecca has given TWG an excerpt from her newest release to share with you all:

‘The most rewarding part of my job was seeing a customer’s eyes light up when they took delivery, their hands finding their face, mouths hanging open, and the still of the moment, as if time stopped as two worlds collided.

Past and present. Then and now.

Using the hutch, I knew that Marie would have an epiphany, an idea that hauled her from the well of writer’s block; was it her subconscious, or was it Anaïs, giving her a ghostly hand up when the words wouldn’t flow?

You would have been surprised how many customers called me with shy voices and told me stories about their antique, and how they were visited by ghosts – the former owners checking in. As if every now and then, they traveled back from their fluffy perch in heaven to check their beloved antique was still being cared for.

It was especially true for antiques used by artistic people. They found it that much harder to let go and move to the next place. A violin from the early 1800s was heard during the night, the soft lament of the strings ringing out as the new owner was roused from sleep and followed the sound, catching the curtain shiver once or twice, even though the windows were locked tight, and the door bolted.

Or a typewriter, once used by some robust, whisky-fueled writer, would suddenly come to life, its keys clacking in the dark of midnight. It was just a brief visit to touch base with the precious medium that made their art immortal. The clink of a glass to whisky bottle heard, a goodbye, before silence enveloped the room once more.

Even I’d had a visit. I had an old clock, once owned by a fifties’ French actress who was notorious for arriving late on set, and then staying up all hours with whatever beau took her fancy. When I first took the grandfather clock home, it would tick tock louder at the witching hour, as if it was greeting her, and I wondered if I sprinted to the living room if I’d catch her curvaceous shadow caught in moonlight as she revisited the one thing that always beat her in her life – time. She died tragically, young and beautiful, and in the afterlife chased the thing that had evaded her.

Ghosts visiting their prized possessions? It was all sorts of crazy, and I’d be dubious myself, if I hadn’t seen it firsthand. I wondered if Anaïs would be there in spirit today, whispering to me through the ages…’

I have already written my review for Rebecca’s book, so in case you missed it, here is the link:
Book review of ‘The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower’ by Rebecca Raisin.

Book Information
Title: The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower
Author: Rebecca Raisin
Series: The Little Paris Collection, Book 2
Standalone?: Yes
Release Date: June 30, 2016
Genres: Contemporary Romance, Chick Lit
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

Book Blurb

Anouk LaRue used to be a romantic, but since she had her heart well and truly broken her love life has dissolved into nothing more than daydreams of the perfect man. Retreating to her extraordinary Little Antique Shop has always been a way to escape, because who could feel alone in a shop bursting with memories and beautiful objects…
Until Tristan Black bursts into an auction and throws her ordered world into a spin.
Following your heart is a little like getting lost in Paris – sometimes confusing and always exciting! Except learning to trust her instincts is not something Anouk is ready to do when it comes to romance, but the city of love has other ideas…


Like the sound of that? Here are the links to be able to buy yourself a copy of the book :
Amazon UK
Amazon US
iTunes
Barnes & Noble
Goodreads

About Rebecca.

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Rebecca Raisin is a true bibliophile. This love of books morphed into the desire to write them. She’s been published in various short story anthologies and in in fiction magazines, and is now focusing on writing romance.
Rebecca aims to write characters you can see yourself being friends with. People with big hearts who care about relationships, and most importantly believe in true love.
Come and say hello to Rebecca on her Facebook page or Twitter.

Stay up to date with Rebecca’s book news.
Website
Goodreads
Facebook
Twitter
Pintrest

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The spotlight is on Eve Devon and her ‘Heart of Steel’!

TWG would like to warmly welcome Eve Devon to the blog today! If you’re wondering why there are no lights anywhere else, it’s because all lights are on Eve. It’s spotlight time!
Did you know that Eve has a new book out today? As in, right now. 14th June 2016…catch my drift? ‘Heart of Steel’ is book number two in the Steel Hawk series and Eve has kindly given an excerpt to share with you all! Of course buying links will follow, I mean, you’ll need to buy it after you have read this! It is from the author that brought you ‘It’s in his Kiss’ after all!

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Spotlight/Excerpt 2: Heart of Steel

Blurb: Heart of Steel, Steel Hawk, Book 2

Colleague, friend, lover…beautiful liar?

Adam Steel is in crisis mode. A recent exposé claims a founder of Steel Hawk was actually The Raven, an infamous jewel thief. Amid the ensuing damage control, all eyes are on his ability to develop a prototype to secure and protect the royal Pasha Star diamond.

He’s further blindsided when he learns his assistant, Honeysuckle Hawk, has a sordid past he never knew about. Proving he never really knew her, never should have trusted her, and definitely shouldn’t start falling for her.

With her dirty laundry flapping in the media storm, Honeysuckle’s first instinct is to run. Two things make her stay: Adam’s insistence it’s better to show the world a united front, and her heart’s insistence by his side is where she belongs.

High stakes and long hours ignite passion…until the diamond is stolen and Adam’s own prototype shows Honeysuckle is a thief. Dare he trust her to help him expose the real criminal—before the mastermind wreaks havoc on the royal family?

Warning:

Contains an über-hot, alpha-geek who’s good with his hands, a sassy reformed-rebel determined to prove she’s not a flake, romantic castles, gorgeous jewels, sleek and sexy technology, heart-pounding suspense…oh, and nipple tassels!

Excerpt:

The sensor at the archway leading to his study went off, and Adam leaped out of bed, strode across his bedroom, and yanked open his door.

Funny how in a house with three levels and seventeen different rooms, she’d zeroed in on the one room he never gave anyone access to.

Instantly, all he could think was that tonight might have been a ruse to get him to lower his defences and invite her to stay. What, did she think she could snoop to her little heart’s content and he wouldn’t notice? Wouldn’t care?

Sounded logical.

Mostly because it felt achingly familiar.

Descending the stairs at a jog, he shot across the entry hall and into the west wing of his house. As he ate up the space, his one clear thought was that no one got to abuse his hospitality and invade his privacy.

No one got to betray his trust. Especially not a beautiful woman. One who, he now reminded himself, hadn’t exactly been stellar in the truth-telling department.

With his mind on the designs laid out on his study desk, his hand slammed over the bank of switches inside the archway leading to his private study.

The corridor flooded with light, and Honeysuckle let out a shriek of surprise.

Leaning against the brick-edged arch, he ground out, “Looking for something?”

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Bio:

 eve

Eve Devon writes sexy heroes, sassy heroines, and happily ever afters…

Growing up in locations like Botswana and Venezuela gave Eve a taste for adventure and her love for romances began when her mother shoved one into her hands in a desperate attempt to keep her quiet during TV coverage of the Wimbledon tennis finals!

When she wasn’t consuming books by the bucket-load, she could be found pretending to be a damsel in distress or running around solving mysteries and writing down her adventures. As a teenager, Eve rewrote countless episodes of TV detective dramas so that the hero and heroine would end up together every week. As an adult, still hooked on romance and mysteries, she worked in a library to conveniently continue reading books by the bucket-load, until realising she herself was destined to write contemporary romance and romantic suspense.

She lives in leafy Surrey in the UK, a book-devouring, slightly melodramatic, romance-writing sassy heroine with her very own sexy-hero husband. 

Where you can find her:

 

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