Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Dirty Neighbor by Cassie-Ann L. Miller ~ RELEASE BLITZ ~ GIVEAWAY ~




Title: Dirty Neighbor
Series: The Dirty Suburbs #1
Author: Cassie-Ann L. Miller
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 28, 2016



Blurb

Keeland Masters...Growing up, he was the boy next door, my brother’s best friend, the guy who asked me to the prom...and then stood me up. He just vanished into thin air.

Now that he’s back in town, he wants to come over to play. And I’m not talking hopscotch. But he’s hurt me once, so I’m sticking to my side of the fence no matter how good he looks pushing that lawnmower in all his tanned, toned shirtless glory.

Dirty Neighbor is book one in the "Dirty Suburbs", a series of stand-alone romantic comedies set in small town Illinois.






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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



Trailer




Excerpt

Keeland

I veer off of the I-96 and guide my Harley onto the off-ramp. I grin to myself as I glance up at the huge, green highway sign looming above the road.

Welcome to Reyfield, Illinois.

I never thought I’d ever feel so damn happy to see that sign again but after all I’ve been through over the past three years, I just want something simple and familiar. I want to be in a place where I don’t feel antsy, like I’ve got to keep looking over my shoulder.

Reyfield is it. It’s almost like coming home…

Almost.

I’m well aware that the Masters’ left a lot of destruction in our wake the last time we were in this town; unpaid bills, unsaid goodbyes and at least one very broken heart.

Maybe it’s time to pay old debts, heal old wounds and make amends as best I can. Maybe it’s time for a fresh start.

It’s a chilly night. Fall is creeping its way into town. I breeze through the streets and everything feels familiar. It all gives me a little thrill in the pit of my stomach. The gothic architecture of the Presbyterian church…The washed-out “Go Tigers!” banner hanging outside of our old high school…The field where we played football…The burger joint we used to go to for lunch when the school cafeteria’s offerings resembled road kill topped with warm dog food...

I take a left off of Clifford Boulevard and pull onto Hyatt Street. The corner store is right where I left it. I cut my engine in the parking lot and stroll through the front door. I give a quick nod to the middle-aged woman sitting behind the cash register and make my way down the narrow, brightly-lit aisles.

Man, it feels good to just walk down the aisles of a freakin’ convenience store. When you’ve been locked away for as long as I have, you learn to appreciate the simple things.

I stand in front of the chip display for a moment, trying to decide between vinegar and barbecue. “Fuck it…” I’m having both. And how about a bag of jalapeƱo-cheddar, too? I’m making up for lost time, after all.

I grab a case of beer — the cheap kind that we used to buy with our fake ids when we were teenagers. I’m feeling awfully nostalgic tonight. Then, I grab more chocolate-covered pretzel sticks than any self-respecting 27-year-old man ever should.

When I get to the condom aisle, I pick up eight three-packs of XL Magnums.

Yes, that might seem overly ambitious but I haven't had sex in three freakin’ years and whoever I take home with me tonight is in for a hell of a good time. The ladies don’t call me Master Kee for nothing. My main priority tonight is to drain the tank into the first acceptable-looking broad that comes my way and to be honest, ‘acceptable-looking’ is pretty much open for interpretation at this point.

Because I’m horny enough to fuck my way through the Reyfield phonebook.

I drop my goodies onto the counter and the cashier eyes me with an arched eyebrow and a subtle grin. “Exciting night planned?” she asks, tipping her chin towards the condoms. The innuendo in her voice is undeniable.

I give her a second glance. Is she Ms. Acceptable for tonight? Nah, she’s probably older than my mother and she smells like she’s been marinating in cigarette smoke and cheap perfume all day. My definition of “acceptable” may be loose, but not that loose.

I nod politely as I glimpse at the number glowing on the screen of the cash register and pull a $100 bill out of my wallet. She drags her long fingernails along my palm as she deposits the change into my hand.

Did my cock just twitch?

Down, buddy. Down.

“Have a good night, Big Boy,” she purrs as I give her a quick salute and duck out the door.

I store my goodies in my backpack and jump onto my bike. When I rev it, the poor thing lets out a choked straining sound. I’ll look into it first thing in the morning, but for now, I’m on mission to get laid.

ASAP.


Samantha

“Breathe in...hold hold hold...breathe out...Breathe in...hold hold hold...breathe out...Breathe in...hold hold hold...breathe out…”

I take long deep breaths, doing my best to synchronize my rhythm to the sound of Isla’s voice pouring into my ears. The cool morning breeze blowing over my face and the sun smiling down on my skin make it that much easier.

This is one of the few things that I absolutely adore about being back in Reyfield. It’s a quiet, serene town. Except for the occasional ruckus caused by the young children playing on the street and the yapping of the over-talkative Yorkshire terrier a few doors down, the place is a sanctuary. A slice of suburban perfection. The ideal place for soul-searching and self-reflection.

But Reyfield is just too slow-paced for me. Take Thornbush Lane, for example. The cul-de-sac is charming, for lack of a better word – the kind of place you’d go to raise a family or grow old, I guess. A cast of interesting characters occupy the lane. Nancy and Delores, the gray-haired duo who’ve appointed themselves as the two-woman neighborhood watch, the eccentric mailman who delivers my mail to the wrong house half the time, meddlesome neighbors who drop by unannounced when you least expect them. That all adds to the cozy feel of the place. But for an ambitious 25-year-old like me, Reyfield is nothing but a dead end.

Growing up, I couldn’t wait to get out of the suburbs. And that’s what I did as soon as I could. I moved 15 miles south, to Chicago for college and then took a job in the city. Everything was going relatively well until four months ago when I suddenly got laid off. Now, here I am, unemployed, single, broke and for the past six weeks, living in my parents’ house again.

Ugh.

Thank god mom and dad are staying in Florida with grams till next spring so at least I have the house to myself. I did not work my ass off for my certified internal auditor designation only to end up living with my parents forevermore. Basically, I need to find a new job stat so that I can move back to the city as soon as possible.

Anyway, Isla swore up and down that meditation would help with my job search. She says that I’m ‘scattered’ and that’s why I haven’t been able to find a new position since I got laid off. Her new meditation recording is supposed to help me find my ‘center’ and ‘recalibrate’ in order to attract a suitable employment opportunity.

Her words, not mine.

For weeks, I resisted. The old Sammie thought that Isla was delusional and maybe even slightly off her rocker. The new Sammie is so hopeless and desperate and sick of being unemployed that I’m pretty much willing to try anything to get a damn job. Sending out resumes, compulsively checking job-listing websites and waiting impatiently for the postman to show up with my mail every morning has proven to be an ineffective strategy.

So, it was time to try something new.

I’ve been using this meditation track for a few days now and if nothing else, it’s relaxing and distracts me from the ticker tape of worry, doubt and anxiety constantly running through my mind.

I shift my foot slightly, determined to ignore the itch prickling at my heel. I'm going to meditate the fuck out of it. Forget you, stupid itch. It's time to turn ‘inwards’ because my money’s low and I need a miracle right about now. I focus solely on my breathing.

Eventually, time and space slip away. I think I’m in that space that Isla’s always talking about. ‘The nothingness’ is what she calls it. I feel content. Satiated. That tiny, niggling voice in the back of my head gnawing at me to get off my butt and go search through the local classified ads again? I smother that bitch under pillows of bliss.

“Breathe in…hold hold hold…breathe out…”

Putata-putata-putata

What the fuck is that?

Putata-putata-putata

Is that a motorcycle? Who the hell on Thornbush Lane has a motorcycle?

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to channel my inner yogi in a futile attempt to drown out the hiccup-hiccup of the engine as it sputters to death nearby. It seems like the harder I try to ignore it, the louder it gets.

I grudgingly yank out my earbuds and ease out of my cross-legged position on my oversized cushion on the back patio. I peer around the side of the house and notice a shiny black Harley Davidson lying on its side in the driveway just as a tall, shirtless figure slinks across the front lawn next door.

What the fuck? Nobody’s supposed to be over there.

As far as I know, dad tried to get that place rented for months before he finally gave up in defeat at the end of July. Illinois’s economy is bad and nobody wants to pay a premium to rent that crumbling, two-story colonial with its unkempt lawn and weather-beaten clapboards. Still, my stubborn father refuses to lower the rental. He’d rather the house sit vacant. I guess he can afford to be picky about his tenants. He doesn’t have a mortgage to pay on it since he inherited the house when his uncle Kramer died back when I was a kid.

I bring my attention back to the very bold intruder next door. I can’t see his face because the tall hedges now hide him from view. I should probably call the police but I decide to check it out myself. I grab a weapon – the rake leaning against the side of the house – as I inch cautiously towards the front yard.

I trek across the driveway separating the two houses, passing the beastly motorcycle and an open toolbox on the way. I stomp through the overgrown lawn and up the stairs to the front porch. The door is wide open and for some reason that puts me at ease. A burglar would probably be more discreet than that, right?

The knot in my stomach loosens a bit. This is probably all some huge misunderstanding.

I stick my head into the doorway without stepping inside, just as a precaution. “Hello?”

A shadowy figure approaches, moving down the long, dimly-lit hallway that leads from the kitchen to the front door. Sunrays slice through the kitchen curtains, illuminating him from behind and revealing his silhouette bit by bit.

And what a sexy silhouette it is.

My eyes climb his frame in slow motion.

His large, sturdy feet.

His long, muscular legs and the gray basketball shorts hanging low on his hips.

Well, damn…

The delicious V punctuating his washboard abs.

The colorful, intricate tattoos ornamenting his strong chest and those brawny arms.

Oh, wow…

His square, stubbly chin.

Those full lips slowly spreading into a wide smile.

My god — I can’t breathe…

Blue eyes, as pale and electric as a flash of lightening.

He shoves his large hand through his messy blond hair. “Hey…”

My heart stops cold in my chest and a shiver runs through my body. The rake slips from my fingers and lands at my feet with a metallic clang. I choke out his name.

“Keeland…?”




Author Bio

Contemporary romance author of the Esquire Girls Series and the Esquire HEAT Series available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.


Author Links

Giveaway

Ruin by Clarissa Wild ~ BOOK BLITZ ~ GIVEAWAY ~


Ruin
Clarissa Wild

Publication date: September 20th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance
Maybell Fairweather was the girl of my dreams.
Always smiling brightly, she kept going, despite the names her classmates called her behind her back.
She was full of curiosity and independence, the extent of which I could only be jealous of. Even though she had all odds stacked against her, she knew what she wanted from life and pursued it, no matter the cost.
She was completely my opposite in every way.
Perfect, even though she couldn’t see it.
Perfect … until me.
Because this is the story of how I ruined her.
Based on a true story. Standalone Romance. No cliffhanger.







This gorgeous Limited Edition cover is available in Paperback ONLY and can be purchased here!


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EXCERPT:

He winks, and somehow, it makes me blush.
For some reason, it’s hard to look away too.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Alexander Wright.”
I smile. “Maybell Fairweather.”
“Hmm … Maybell … nice name.”
“Thanks.” I blush.
I don’t know why or what it is about him, but he has this gentleness about him that soothes me and makes me want to ask him to stay, even if I don’t have a reason for it.
But then I realize it’s not the only reason I’m looking at him.
Something’s felt off since we met, and I couldn’t put my finger on it, but now, I can.
“Wait …” I mutter. “I know you, right?”
“Yeah, I’m that guy who ate a sandwich with you the other day. You don’t remember? Should I call a nurse?” He chuckles.
I roll my eyes. “No. I mean …” I recognize him from somewhere. “I know you from … school, right?”
His eyes suddenly widen, and he slams his lips shut.
HA! I knew he looked familiar. “No way! I knew it.”
The muscles in his face tighten. “Oh, boy.”
“I’ve seen you at school a few times.”
“Really?” he says, scratching the back of his neck.
“Yeah … don’t tell me I’m making this up. I’m not crazy … right?” I pout.
He smiles, his dimples making me wanna pinch his cheeks. “No, you’re not crazy. It’s just a surprise that you’d even recognize me. People usually don’t even see me. I’m invisible.”
“Yeah?” I bite my lip and frown. “Same here.”
He lowers his arm. “No … you’re not invisible at all,” he says, looking at me with half-mast eyes. “I see you. All the time.”


Romantic couple kissing with love and passion



Author Bio:

 Want to be the first to get your hands on new books & get access to free short stories, giveaway prizes, previews, and more? Sign up here http://eepurl.com/FdY71
Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, and Stalker. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire's Bet series, and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.




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Four Letter Word by J. Daniels ~ EXCERPT REVEAL ~


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Excerpt

I showered and shaved, slathered on my favorite sweet-smelling body lotion, slid into the dress after deciding on a thong and no bra, thanks to the mesh, and curled and teased my hair, giving it body and height that looked kick-ass paired with my outfit.
I also went to town on my makeup job, keeping everything heavy but the kind of heavy that screamed fierce concertgoer and not back alley hooker.
Dark, smoky eyes, false lashes that flared at the ends, and warm cerise lipstick.
I felt pretty. Really pretty.
The kind of pretty a girl had to commemorate with a selfie, and there was only one person in the entire world I wanted to send that selfie to.
I bit my lip while swiping my phone off the bed and pulling up the camera mode.
I was nervous.
Understandably so. This would be the first time Brian was going to see me.
Like ever.
Heavy stuff right there.
I’d thought about sending him pictures before, but got sidetracked with conversation and his sweet as warmed honey voice I wanted to taste, and all thoughts of pictures would slip my mind. Considering he never asked to see a photo of me didn’t help either.
Since he wasn’t bringing it up, I was hardly thinking about it.
But right now, standing in my bedroom with my makeup done up and my hair looking prettier than it had on prom night, sending Brian a picture of me was suddenly all I could think about.
And before I could think or whisper talk myself out of it, I reversed the camera so I could see myself on the screen, held the device out in front of me and off to the right a bit, pursed my stained lips into a kiss, other hand poised at my chin to blow it, and snapped the picture.
Then I attached it to a text and hit Send.
Feeling WILD.
I wanted to put my phone down. Really I did, especially since I had to snap on my studded cuff bracelet and that required use of both hands, furthermore because Tori had given me a fifteen-minute warning close to fifteen minutes ago, but I couldn’t let the damn thing go.
I couldn’t stop looking at it either.
My stomach was clenched. I was biting my fist and pacing the length of the bed, head down and eyes anxiously focused.
But when the little bubbles floated in teasing intervals on my screen and I knew Brian had seen my photo, that’s when the real panic set in.
Would he like how I looked? Would it be how he had imagined and confessed to imagining countless times late at night to me, or better, would my photo exceed the limits of his imagination and paint a more pleasing image in his mind?
Or would he hate it and me for sending it to him, shattering his dreamed-up spank-bank material and ruining every orgasm I ever gave him?
Shit.
Shit!
Which was it and why the hell was he taking so long to type? Didn’t he know this was killing me?
“Hurry up!” I whispered against the screen.
It started ringing in response to my plea, startling me and nearly slipping out of my hand.
Oh, God, he was calling.


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Fate. Hate. Love. Lies.
Which four letter word will change their lives forever?

Pre-order Four Letter Word by J. Daniels NOW:




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Blurb

Sydney Paige was never so mortified to hear the words "wrong number" in her life. She meant to tell off the guy who broke her best friend's heart, but unleashed her anger on a perfect stranger instead. And now her world is turned upside down by the captivating man who wants to keep her on the line.

Brian Savage is living a life he's quickly come to hate-until Sydney's wild rant has him hooked and hungry for more. Soon the sexy woman on the phone becomes the lover in his bed. But Brian has secrets, and the closer he lets Syd get, the harder it is to shield her from the devastating mistakes of his past . . .

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Author Information
J Daniels.jpg
J. Daniels is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sweet Addiction series, the Alabama Summer series, and the upcoming Dirty Deeds series.

She would rather bake than cook, she listens to music entirely too loud, and loves writing stories her children will never read. Her husband and children are her greatest loves, with cupcakes coming in at a close second.

J grew up in Baltimore and resides in Maryland with her family.

Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Website |  Goodreads





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Bound To Submit by Laura Kaye ~ EXCERPT REVEAL ~ PRE-ORDER ~

Decadent… Sensual… Forbidden…

12 Masters. 12 Desires. 12 Fantasies Come to Life. Meet the Masters of Blasphemy…

   

Releasing October 11, 2016, BOUND TO SUBMIT is the first full-length novel in Laura Kaye’s erotic new Blasphemy Series, and today we have a teaser excerpt just for you! 

Check it out below! 

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About Bound to Submit:

From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive BDSM club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…

He thinks he caused her pain, but she knows he’s the only one who can heal her…

Kenna Sloane lost her career and her arm in the Marines, and now she feels like she’s losing herself. Submission is the only thing that ever freed her from pain and made her feel secure, and Kenna needs to serve again. Bad. The only problem is the Dom she wants once refused her submission and broke her heart, but, scarred on the inside and out, she’s not looking for love this time. She’s not even sure she’s capable.

Griffin Hudson is haunted by the mistakes that cost him the only woman he ever loved. Now she’s back at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, and more beautiful than ever, and she’s asking for his help with the pain he knows he caused. Even though he’s scared to hurt her again, he can’t refuse her, because he’d give anything to earn a second chance. And this time, he’ll hold on forever.

Pre-Order Bound to Submit in ebook or paperback, releasing 10/11/16

Amazon | iBooks | Kobo| Barnes & Noble

Add to your Goodreads

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From Laura Kaye:

Hey everyone! I’m super excited to share an excerpt from my upcoming Bound to Submit, the first official book in my brand new and super hot Blasphemy series! There are less than two weeks until release day and I’m so excited!! This is a steamy second-chance romance with a tall, dark, and tortured Dom and a kick-ass veteran amputee heroine, and I just loved writing these characters. I hope you’ll grab your copy of Bound to Submit, and the prequel, Hard to Serve—now available at all retailers—too!!

Now, enjoy this little taste Bound to Submit – coming October 11!

  EXCERPT:   “Use your safewords if you need them, Kenna.” Griffin hesitated only one more second. And then he was on her. His mouth on hers. His tongue sinking deep. His hands in her soft blond waves. The moan she unleashed shot straight to his cock and made him want to wring every moan he’d missed these five long years out of her beautiful, curvy body. “Put your arms around my neck,” he said. When she did, he cupped her ass in his hands and pushed off the couch. “Hang on, little one.” He made for the adjacent door to the play room, but, good as it was, that one kiss hadn’t been nearly enough. Not when he was absofuckinglutely starving. Pinning her to the wall, he dove back in again. Kissing, claiming, devouring. He ground himself against her pussy, the strangled cry she released around his tongue making his balls heavy and full. “I’m not sure you realize what you’re getting into with me, Kenna. Because I’ve missed the hell out of making you come.” “Oh, God,” she rasped. “God can’t save you. Not from me. Not tonight.” He swung open the door, the motion-activated lights coming on as they moved into the play room. Others occasionally used this space, but he used it most. He’d designed and installed the furniture, suspension hooks and shackles, and pulley systems in the room for all different kinds of bondage play, and he’d outfitted the storage cabinets with every possible implement he’d need, too. And he had just the thing in mind, for tonight. “Feet down,” he said. The way she slid down him nearly drove him insane, and then he stepped back and considered her body suit. It was so fucking sexy that he hated to ruin it, but PVC was a bitch to get on and off. “I fucking love and hate that body suit right now,” he said, planting a stern expression on his face. Amusement flashed across her eyes. “Sorry, Sir,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. A thought came to mind and he retrieved a roll of red Kinesio tape from a cabinet. Tearing a length off he said, “I’m going to allow you the suit. This time. But I need you to tell me where the prosthesis ends and your arm begins. Can you do that for me?” “Yes,” she said, lifting her arm as he moved in. “The stump extends about two inches below my elbow.” “Here?” He held the tape over the black of her suit. When she nodded, he gently applied the red marking around her forearm. “Once we start, you have carte blanche—for tonight—to speak. I want you vocal. I want you telling me how I’m making you feel.” He nailed her with a stare. “Don’t let me hurt you. Don’t even let me get close.” “I won’t, Master Griffin. I can handle this.” “I doubt don’t it, Kenna, but I will cut the scene if I have even an inkling that I’m causing unintentional pain that you’re not owning up to.” He arched a brow. “Are we clear?” She gave a fast nod. “Good. Then spread your feet and put your hands at your side. Now.” Her ready compliance fucking slayed him. After all this time, it really did. “Mmm. Very good. Now, don’t move a muscle unless I tell you to. Because the scene begins right now.”  

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"A searingly sexy story with some of the hottest scenes I've read in a long, long time. Laura Kaye shows her mastery of the BDSM world. I'm eagerly anticipating more in this bold new series!"

~ Cherise Sinclair, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters of the Shadowlands Series

 

"Smoldering and sexy, Laura Kaye's Blasphemy series is everything I look for in a romance. Haunted heroes and strong heroines populate this one of a kind club and I can't wait to see the big bad Doms fall one by one."

~ Lexi Blake, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters and Mercenaries Series

    HARD TO SERVE - cover

Meet the Masters of Blasphemy in Hard to Serve, now available

Amazon exclusive until September 2016 in paperback and ebook

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About Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty-five books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.      

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Conflicted by A.M. Guilliams ~ RELEASE BLITZ ~

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Conflicted The Existing Series Vol 2
by A.M. Guilliams

#LIVE and only #99cents


Blurb:

I’m passionate, caring, and loyal to a fault. All traits that have gotten me to where I am today.
My future was finally headed in the direction I felt it was always meant to go. Anger fueled my determination for success. But life was never that easy. I should’ve known better than to think it would all just fall into place. All it took was one freak accident to cause my whole world to pause, teetering on emotions I never imagined were possible. Promises were made; vows I would keep until the day I died.
Delaney Winters came tumbling into my hometown with nowhere else to turn. Something about her calmed the storm that brewed inside of me. I tried and failed to keep myself from attempting to save her. I wanted to be more than just the hero she claimed she didn’t need.
Feelings were never supposed to develop.
Love was never part of the promise.
How far would you go to keep a promise before you crossed the line to love?
My name is Weston Corbin, and this is my story.


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About the Author:

A.M. Guilliams is a romantic suspense and women’s fiction author who currently resides in Virginia with her husband, three children, and fur babies. Books, flip flops, coffee, chocolate, The Walking Dead, and Chicago Fire are just a few of her obsessions. Her love of books began with novels by Stephen King, Mary Higgins Clark, and the poetry of Edgar Allan Poe. When she’s not writing, you can find her down by the river with her family, curled up on the couch with a good book, or watching her favorite movies and television shows.





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