Decide & Decline

Declan Reede: The Untold Story series

By: Michelle Irwin

Genre: Erotic Romance

*Warning - Due to adult content & language this series is not intended for anyone under the age of 18.*

Book 0.5 in the Declan Reede: the Untold Story Series

Strap in, get ready to start your engines and see where it all began.

From an early age, Declan Reede’s only goal was to race in the ProV8 Championship Series. One thing he couldn’t anticipate was that a blistering kiss shared with his best friend, Alyssa Dawson, might derail his plans.

While he knows things between them will never be the same, it’s impossible to predict just where the road will take them, or how rocky it might get.

Will he decide to fight for love or follow his dreams?

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Start Declan Reede's story today with the FREE prequel novella:

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Book 1 in the Declan Reede: the Untold Story Series

Strap in, get ready to start your engines and see where it all began.

From an early age, Declan Reede’s only goal was to race in the ProV8 Championship Series. One thing he couldn’t anticipate was that a blistering kiss shared with his best friend, Alyssa Dawson, might derail his plans.

While he knows things between them will never be the same, it’s impossible to predict just where the road will take them, or how rocky it might get.

Will he decide to fight for love or follow his dreams?

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Amazon:

US: http://amzn.to/1S3yr2o

UK: http://amzn.to/1M8D4Gb

AU: http://bit.ly/1NACZOR

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940152255270

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1033068230

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/decline-1

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Coming Soon!!

Book 2 in the Declan Reede: the Untold Story Series

Pre-Order Now!!

Amazon:

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UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B015YBJCU8/

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(Exclusive to this tour teaser of Deceive attached to email)

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Michelle Irwin has been many things: a hobbit taking a precious item to a fiery mountain; a young child stepping through the back of a wardrobe into another land; the last human stranded not-quite-alone in space three million years in the future; and a time-travelling madman in a box. All of these feats and many more were achieved through her voracious reading. Eventually, the cast inside her mind took over and spilled onto the page.

Michelle lives in sunny Queensland in the land down under. A lover of love and overcoming the odds, she primarily writes paranormal and fantasy romance.

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Wanna join her street team?

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Steady is the Fall

     We were in a car accident as children. I was eight at the time and could never remember the details afterwards. My cousin Larry remembered everything, even though he was two years younger than me. It might sound strange that a six-year-old would remember more than an eight-year-old, but it wouldn’t seem odd at all if you knew Larry.  
           Even as the years passed and my memory of the event faded more and more, Larry’s recollection of it only grew stronger. His parents never liked that much. Neither did mine. I was the only one who ever listened with the sort of unease and appreciation that he craved. We’d sit huddled on the sofa in my living room while my mother was out and my father was upstairs. I’d hug a pillow against my chest and he’d sit on his knees, hunched forward with his hands slicing through the air as he described it all in active detail. 
            Larry never called it an accident. Not once. He referred to it instead as an imperfect moment or that time in the truck. Keep in mind this was coming from a boy of six, and then eight, and then fifteen, but Larry was incredibly articulate from the very beginning. Every phrase was deliberate with him—each letter carefully chosen. With such a gift for language and grace as a speaker, my cousin should have been a better storyteller, but he wasn’t. His descriptions were clear, but for some reason Larry couldn’t milk it. He always started at the same spot—when we were in his father’s gray pickup truck, where Larry was seated in the middle between his father and me. 
            Riding in that truck was really something to a couple of kids because it was the only time we didn’t have to sit in the backseat. We felt like proper adults up there in the front with the steering wheel and the dashboard. The cloth interior smelled like motor oil and old takeout. Larry loved that. He found it comforting. Nostalgic. His mother was a health nut, but his father possessed a particular fondness for anything that could be gotten from a drive-thru window. Abandoned hamburger wrappers and soda straws sat in huddled piles at our feet and we just kicked our heels together and smiled with gleaming, crooked teeth. 
            It had been snowing all morning, Larry often explained, with tiny white flakes falling onto the windshield and dissolving the same as they do when they fall onto your tongue. It was still fairly early in the day, though the clouds made it seem much later. Larry’s father had promised to take us out for lunch if we helped him in emptying out the garage. It was simple enough. He’d hand us something and have us run it upstairs to Larry’s mother in the study to see if she wanted to keep it or if the item could be thrown away. Larry and I made it a game, racing one another to see who could reach his mother first. Mostly we just tied, but I think I might have managed to win a time or two. 
           Most of the boxes from the garage were filled with old baby clothes and broken toys that were old enough to possibly be worth something at auction if only they had been properly maintained. Larry’s mother enjoyed finding value in the obsolete. They had a garage sale monthly for about five years. It drove Larry’s younger sisters mad because all their toys were constantly being sold before the girls were ready to part with them. They’d toss their red little heads up in the air and call it unfair. Larry called it capitalism. 
              By noon we had finished with the garage and were out in the truck on our way to lunch to well-known and beloved Barkley Diner. The place had these dark brown seats, which looked like leather but weren’t, and the lights were yellow-tinted which made everything look like it was lip up by a warm, crackling fire. They served the standard fare. Burgers. Fries. Eggs. Pie. It could have been swapped out with any other diner in the country and no one would have noticed. And yet it was our very own place. The historic Barkley Diner.   
            The drive only took ten minutes from Larry’s house, but to get there we had to drive along Redwood Road, which consisted of one wide lane that stretched through the woods and down beyond the park. The road was about six miles in length though we only had to travel about two of those before turning onto Wharton Avenue, which emptied into the intersection by the traffic light that sat opposite the diner. The trees, whose bare branches lurched overhead as we gazed out the window, were coated with a light brush of fresh snow. Everything seemed frozen and icy. It was the middle of October but it looked more like December. That day entered the record books as the earliest snowfall Garner County ever received. I used to like to tell my friends that in school. It made me feel knowledgeable—powerful even. It’s strange how children grasp so tightly to what they cannot make sense of, finding importance in all the wrong places. 
           Both Larry and his father remembered the radio as being on that afternoon but only Larry knew the song that was playing prior to and following the accident. Stairway to Heaven. Larry was particularly proud of that little detail. After a point he even became smug about it. Stairway to Heaven. Imagine that. He claimed it started about two or three minutes before the crash and continued amidst the static on the radio until an ambulance arrived. No one bothered to turn the engine off. It just kept on playing all the way through. 
            Being hit, he said, was like sitting in one of those spinning teacups at an amusement park. The other car tried to yield as it came to a fork in the road but there was ice on the pavement and so the little sedan went barreling into the left side of our truck. We spun three or four times before hitting a tree. Larry compared the impact to a violent punch in the chest. It made him dizzy and, gasping, he looked up to see that his father’s nose was cracked and the man’s mouth had set on muttering every curse that could be called upon. Then, Larry said, he turned to me. I didn’t stir when he touched my arm. Blood had begun to seep through my hair, painting the window bright red. The impact left a thin scar up near my temple, just under the hairline, from where my skull split the glass. Larry explained that his father looked me over, but was afraid to move my arms or head. My uncle then instructed his son to run over and check on the other driver. He didn’t though. He didn’t want to leave me—he couldn’t leave me. He didn’t even want to get out of the car. So Larry’s father told him to watch me and he opened the door and ran over and called to the man in the sedan. Larry just continued to sit there. Staring. He claimed he couldn’t stop staring at me as that song continued to play and his head continued to spin. It was like the teacup never stopped turning, he said. It just never stopped. 
When the paramedics arrived they took me away. Larry wanted to sit in the ambulance with me but they drove us separately, claiming my injuries to be more severe. Whether Larry’s disappointment in not being allowed to go with me came from a concern for my safety or his fascination with the blood, I’ll never know. It was probably a little of both. Afterwards he swore it was because he was worried about me. He was always a rotten liar, and since I believed him it was most likely true. Or maybe I just wanted to believe him. Too much has happened since to ever really know. 
              Larry sprained his arm in the accident, but other than that there was little harm done to him. He was always disappointed about that and at first his parents took that disappointment to be displaced guilt; they thought he felt ashamed to have gotten away with barely a scratch. But really he was just disappointed that he hadn’t experienced more. Felt more. The accident wasn’t nearly enough to settle him. 
              The only solid thing I could ever recall about that afternoon was how bright the lights were when they rolled me into the hospital. I looked up at those round, white lights along the ceiling and thought I was dreaming. Or dying. The lights looked hot and it stung so viscously to stare at them that I had to close my eyes. There was nothing after that. The memory just tapered off and the next thing I could recall was being back at home. 
The doctors did their work and were proud of my recovery, given that my injuries were more severe than they at first suspected. I received a concussion from hitting my head and one of my lungs collapsed in the ambulance. The latter actually served me well in later years. I was able to avoid my parent’s insistence that I join the soccer team that spring, and in high school it got me out of having to run the mile required to pass gym. The cold weather sometimes made my chest ache and I couldn’t breathe well after running, but those doctors considered me lucky. I could have died. Larry used to say that all doctors tell the parents of surviving patients that their children were lucky. He thought it was nonsense. There was nothing lucky about it. For years I thought I understood what he meant. Only later did I realize that I was wrong. 
              Larry clung to the particulars of that afternoon. They mattered so much to him, and so in time they began to mean a great deal to me as well. His memories became mine. His story did, too, and for a while it looked like that was all the accident would be: a good story. Those involved recovered, even the other driver who suffered nothing beyond a split lip. No one pressed charges. No one died. The flesh healed quickly. At the time it looked as if nothing much had changed. Only later did we come to realize the extent of the damage it had done.  
               My parent’s never let Larry’s father off the hook, even though it wasn’t his fault. The fact that guilt nearly drowned him became inconsequential. No one seemed to notice that it was only after the accident that he started drinking again. It didn’t matter, not to my parents. At the time I was an only child and my mother maintained that nothing ever scorched her soul like that phone call informing her that her lovely little girl had been brought to the hospital. It was the last time she ever took the trouble to care about me as a mother. In that respect, the accident also did me good. I knew from that afternoon that she loved me and I remembered it when she left my forty-five year old father for a twenty-six year old physical therapist in Florida. I remembered it when she stopped visiting. I remembered it when she stopped calling. For the rest of my childhood I had the comfort of knowing that for one day as I lay on the very verge of death, my mother truly loved me. That love was so strong that it scorched her soul. Some people might have needed more than that, but I considered it to be plenty. It was more than my father had. It’s more than my brother, who was only three when she left, was ever likely to receive. 
              Larry always regretted the accident more than I did, which many thought was strange for a lot of different reasons that did not really apply. They thought he wished it hadn’t happened, but really it was what didn’t happen that disappointed him. Larry saw something in the accident—the potential for something—that he couldn’t get over. He became fascinated by it—addicted to it. The dizziness never left him and so he never stopped spinning. Instilled in him was the need to know. He was stuffed full of the cruel and compelling need to understand every aspect of it. Every vile little detail. Every curious moment. It was unfortunate really. All those years of waiting and wondering and he never shared a single answer with me, even though I was quite possibly the only one who actually wanted to understand. And he tried. He always tried to make it clear what it was he wanted to find and why it meant more to him than all the rest, but as articulate as he was, he couldn’t put it into words. It became impossible to convince any of us. Not that it really mattered when all was said and done. There was nothing worth finding in it because Larry ended up dead. It happened on a Thursday. Suicide. No one was surprised.

Title: The Truth Series
Author: Elaine May
Genre: Dark Romance
Cover Designed by: Francessca’s Romance Reviews
Hosted by: Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis



For the first time Isla and Joshie's story is in one book and edited for your enjoyment.

Lies And Truth

When Isla Holmes life as a child is turned upside down and she is ripped away from her soul mate, she is forced to live a life with evil.
When Isla and her soul mate cross paths will they find a happy ever after or will evil intervene?

Pain And Truth

After years apart Isla and Joshua were finally reunited in a beautiful night but come morning evil tried to destroy it. Will Isla and Joshua's love withstand the new evil that threatens them?

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Excerpt

As she sat on a park bench in the middle of Central Park, she couldn’t get over how beautiful and peaceful it was. The trees may have long ago lost their leaves and the grass may have looked almost dead due to the winter air, but Mother Nature was beautiful. Isla couldn’t help but feel blessed to be able to once again sit in the middle of it, rather than watch from a closed window. Looking at the picture-perfect view in front of her, Isla couldn’t believe she was in the centre of the most famous city in the world.

Although it was so cold, Isla couldn’t help but think how nice it was to be able to sit outside and feel the harsh wind against her cheek, breathe in the cold air, and just be able to be normal, even for just a little while.

Couples were walking hand in hand, children were screaming and running around and people just looked happy to enjoy the day. She’d always loved to be able to people-watch. People passed her by and it made her wonder what people would see if they stopped to notice her. Would they see the tears she had shed? Would they notice the finger marks around her neck. What would they see? Was it written all over her face that she was in hell, that she needed help?



About The Author



Elaine May is my Author name. I live in the West Country of England with my two beautiful daughters and yummy hubby. I love reading dark and twisted tales that mess with your head. I love to travel and spending time with my family. My dream is for people to like what I’ve written and hopefully get to go to a book signing event as an author.

Stalk Elaine May here:

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BLOG TOUR

(25th Nov to 30th Nov)

Waiting for Us by Dawn Stanton

Release date- 17th November 

Genre- New Adult 

Cover Design- Letitia Hasser/Romantic book affairs

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26874145-waiting-for-us

SYNOPSIS

Cory Marshall-

I've been in love with him for almost half of my life. He's my older brother's best friend. He's a player, a notorious heartbreaker...and now he wants a shot at mine.

Marcus O'Connor-
He's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. He's loyal, he's compassionate...he's beautiful.

How can I possibly choose between one man who could break my heart and another who might make it whole?

Which one is the right choice for me...when I've fallen in love with both of them?

BUY LINKS

Amazon US:  http://amzn.to/20XYKgi 

Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/1QI9U4j 

Amazon AU:  http://bit.ly/1ONPlUK

Review

     If  you are not reviewing. Please remove this. 

TEASERS

EXCERPTS

EXCERPT

I open the bathroom door and hold it for Shelby. We are walking past the men's room at the same time Cory is exiting it. We barely miss bumping into each other and share a laugh over our close call.

"Hey, can I grab you for a sec?" He asks me.

"Sure, Shelby I'll meet you on the dance floor in a few." Shelby nods and smirks as she walks away. She knows about my "Cory crush" and how hot I think he is.

 So what's up Cory?" I ask, wondering what he could want to talk to me about

"Come here," he says, wrapping his warm hand around mine. He walks us back toward where we just came from, before continuing down the hall and around a sharp corner. He fluidly turns me to face him and tucks me back into the alcove on the right side of the hallway. The small space is deep enough to offer some privacy as he maneuvers his body close to mine. My breath stutters from the contact and I suddenly feel nervous. I'm not sure what to do with my hands so I place my palms on the cool wall behind me, bracing myself against it. He runs the top of his index finger slowly down my cheek and back up again.

 It seems like such a cliché' for you to be turning sweet sixteen and you've never been kissed. I thought I could help you out with that." He says with a sly smile on his handsome face. Before I can reply that I have already been kissed, he is softly pressing his mouth to mine. His lips are warm and sure. It feels different than kissing Marcus. Maybe it's the fact that he's eight years older than me and he has a lot of experience, whatever the reason, I feel as though I'm kissing a man. The kiss is over almost before it's begun, yet I can't help but feel as though my destiny has been irrevocably changed as a result. One small kiss from Cory Marshall and my life would never be the same

Author Bio:

    First time author Dawn Stanton, writes women's fiction with a romantic and risqué edge. With her debut novel Waiting for Us, she fulfilled a life-long dream of becoming a published author.

    Stanton, a life-long resident of the east coast, makes her home in New England with her husband, Amazon bestselling author Daniel Stanton, and their two sons. Look for the next book in the Waiting series, Waiting for Love, in January of 2016. Dawn and Daniel are planning to work together on a collaboration sometime in the near future.

    If you'd like to stay up to date on new releases and all book related news you can go to my Facebook page.

     https://www.facebook.com/DawnStantonauthor

Title: Brothers of Ink and Steel Box Set

Includes: Dare, Burn, Dare You Forever

& Bonus Content

Author: Allie Juliette Mousseau 

Genre: NA Romance/Sports Romance

Release Date: November 17, 2015

Josh North is UFC’s Light Heavyweight Champion—but he’s about to meet his match.

Sophie Garner is a single mom who’s been raising her daughter on her own, fighting for both of their lives ever since going into hiding to escape her abusive husband.

When Sophie gets offered the job of a lifetime as the exclusive massage therapist for Josh “The Jackhammer” North’s team, it’s difficult to say no to the outrageous salary—and the bet—that Josh proposes. But for Sophie it’s a risk that could cost a lot more than just her heart – if she’s found, it could cost her her life.

Should she dare?

Josh wants to break through Sophie’s fortified walls, but is unwilling to put the jackhammer to his own and reveal his secrets and the side of him few have ever known or seen. To do that, he’ll have to confront the darkness of his past.

Will he dare?

Liam Knight, a sexy panty-melting, hard-bodied streetfighter and renowned tattoo artist, is rising up the ranks of the UFC Middleweight Division, but he’s about to get knocked out by his past.

Quinn Kelley is a semester away from becoming a college graduate when her mother’s death sends her spiraling, forcing her to go back to her hometown and a past she can’t outrun.

Nearly a decade ago, Liam and Quinn fell in love while surviving on the city streets together, but they were torn apart by one irreversible night. Now each has moved forward without the other, but like a tattoo on the heart, absolute love creates a lasting burn.

Quinn has kept a tight rein on her emotions, but with the passing of her mother, the foundation she’s built begins to crack. Will seeing Liam again crumble her fortress to the ground, uncovering the flame that still burns? Or will it extinguish the fire forever?

Liam’s tough exterior and resentful demeanor hides more than a wounded heart. He’s tormented by guilt over what happened to Quinn—and the secret he kept, even from her. But revealing his secrets would require unearthing the all-consuming monster he keeps caged in the darkest part of his soul, the one that threatens to devour him.

When they’re given a second chance, will they let go of their fear and pride and let the flame between them become one?

Or will the heat burn them both?

 

Alpha-male, dirty-talking, MMA Light-Heavyweight Champion Josh North has only three days until the wedding to prove to single mother and greatest-love-of-his-life Sophie Garner that he is the only man she'll ever need!

As the wedding day approaches and Sophie begins to get cold feet, Josh comes up with a romantic scheme to prove his love and devotion--and employs all his brothers as Cupid's messengers!

See Josh North, the North men and the Brothers of Ink and Steel like you never have before in this sweet, sexy and wildly romantic wedding novella!

Sophie Garner answered yes in front of the entire world when Josh popped the question and the diamond ring dangled from his title belt, but is she really ready to take the plunge?

She's been a single mother for almost three years, and she's set in her ways, not used to sharing her life with anyone but her daughter, Charlie. Plus, she doesn't know that she can ever escape the shadow of a past that still haunts her.

Sophie and Charlie are everything Josh wants in the world - but the heartthrob bachelor is learning that commitment and fatherhood are both tougher than training for the title fight! And even though he'd give his life for either of his girls, he's not so sure he's got what it takes to be a husband and daddy.

Will Josh win the roughest fight of his life, or will he go down for the count?

Allie Juliette Mousseau is a USA Today Bestselling author and writes sexy, emotionally-charged New Adult and Adult romance.She can always be found writing, playing in puddles with her children, hiking with her husband, and traveling and adventuring anywhere she can.She believes life should be filled with love, laughter, adventure and forgiveness.Sometimes she misses the mountains of Montana but is becoming quickly fond of the crashing waves and salty smell of the Pacific Ocean, towering palm trees and long beach walks during sunset at her new home in southern California where she now lives with her loving husband, children, and 85 lb golden retriever.

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When rugged bounty hunter Ryder Axton is hired to hunt down a cartel leader for a seven digit bounty, he doesn’t expect to find federal witness Rachel Farrington being held captive in the perp’s basement. For Ryder, shit gets personal and the routine arrest becomes a rescue mission. And he will stop at nothing to make Rachel safe.

Farrington has been in the basement for seven days. She knows the only reason she’s still alive and unharmed is because of her market value in the overseas sex-slave trade. That’s how Eduardo Miguel plans to keep her from testifying after seeing him brutally murder her fellow student—and how he’ll manage to pay off his enormous debt to the cartel for a botched drug deal at the same time.

Terrified and desperate, Farrington will do whatever it takes to escape her captors—including kill—the first opportunity she gets. So when Ryder, a scarred, rough, foul-mouthed, smooth talking, criminal tries to persuade her he’s rescuing her—even though she knows it’s just another part of the act to manipulate her in attempts to keep her calm and “undamaged” upon delivery—she sees her chance.

But when two rival gangs wage war above their heads and Ryder and Rachel are forced to take cover in the dark and deadly east Texas bayou, trusting one another for survival, they both realize they might never see another sunrise.

Can they both defy death . . . again?

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