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Edeilweiss Reviewer

Wednesday, November 13, 2019

Last Light by Claire Kent

Last Light by Claire Kent is coming on November 13rd!
A post-apocalyptic road-trip romance book.
It only took four years for the world to fall apart

Enjoy this sneak peek
He’s staring down at me, his eyes appearing very blue. And the corners of his mouth are tilted up just slightly.
I gasp. “Are you smiling?”
“What?”
“Are you actually smiling?”
“Course not.” But his lips twitch up again, almost imperceptibly.
I giggle and hug him again. Just a quick squeeze of my arms. “Yes, you are. You can act grumpy and stoic all you want, but I know you, Travis Farrell. And you’re just as excited about all our new loot as I am.”
For Twitter
Tuesday 12th

Last Light by Claire Kent is coming on November 13rd!
A post-apocalyptic road-trip romance book.
It only took four years for the world to fall apart.
#TeaserTuesday #Kindle #Romance #Book

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Wednesday 13rd


Last Light by Claire Kent is available now!

It only took four years for the world to fall apart.

Now the last member of my family has died, and I'm forced to travel across what's left of three states to find the only people I know left alive. To survive, I'll have to salvage food and supplies and try to avoid violent men who've learned they can take what they want by force. The only way I'm going to make it is by trusting Travis.

Travis used to fix my car, and now he's all I have left in the world. He's gruff and stoic and unfriendly, and I don't really know or like him. But he's all I have left. He'll keep me safe. We'll take care of each other. Until we reach what's left of our town and can finally let go of one another.

Last Light is a standalone post-apocalyptic romance set in the near future after a global catastrophe.

Purchase your copy:
http://www.clairekent.com/standalone-novels.html





Last Light by Claire Kent is available now!

Enjoy this apocalyptic road trip romance story.

Book info

Title: Last Light
Author: Claire Kent
Publishing date: November 13rd, 2019
Genre: Romance, Apocalyptic

Book Summary

It only took four years for the world to fall apart.

Now the last member of my family has died, and I'm forced to travel across what's left of three states to find the only people I know left alive. To survive, I'll have to salvage food and supplies and try to avoid violent men who've learned they can take what they want by force. The only way I'm going to make it is by trusting Travis.

Travis used to fix my car, and now he's all I have left in the world. He's gruff and stoic and unfriendly, and I don't really know or like him. But he's all I have left. He'll keep me safe. We'll take care of each other. Until we reach what's left of our town and can finally let go of one another.

Last Light is a standalone post-apocalyptic romance set in the near future after a global catastrophe.


Enjoy this fragment

“You mad?” Travis asks after a couple of minutes.

“No.”

“Thought it best to just scare folks like that away so they don’t get ideas.”

“I understand. I’m not mad.”

“So what’s wrong?”

If I’m getting to know Travis better, then he’s obviously getting to know me too.

“Nothing.” I shake my head as I try to find words for it. “It just makes me feel weird.”

“What does?”

“The idea that I need a man.”

I risk a glance over at him and see he’s studying me with a thoughtful frown.

I try to explain. “You know, it wasn’t very long ago when it never would have occurred to me. I was raised to believe a woman could do anything a man could. To know I could be independent. Live alone if I wanted. Or live however I wanted with whoever I wanted. The idea that I’d be somehow unsafe without a man to take care of me…” I clear my throat. “So it just… still sometimes feels weird.”

“Lots changed since then.”

“I know. Usually I don’t even think about it, but sometimes it hits me. And… I don’t know… I wish I could feel independent again. I wish I didn’t feel so small and helpless in this new world.”

“You are small.”

I make a face at him. “I know that.”

“No. I mean that’s what it’s about. A few years ago, life wasn’t about physical size. You could take care of yourself without a man because life wasn’t about fightin’ for survival. But we’re back to survival now. Like it was way back in history. Men are stronger. Not every single one, but in general. And that makes a difference when you’re fightin’ for your life. It’s not ’cause there’s anything lackin’ in you, Layne. You’re just not as big as a man.”

I’m not sure why, but the words actually make me feel better. I give him a little smile.

Travis adds, “Men might be stronger, but we’re not independent anymore either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what I say. Men can’t make it now without women any more than women can make it without men. We need each other.” He clears his throat and avoids my eyes. “I need you. Like you need me.”

“You do?”

“You think I’d’ve done nearly as good this week without you? You think of things I don’t. You’re better at finding houses with food and gas. You… you make things nice. I might not have even kept going if not for you, especially if we didn’t have that message. You make me…”

I’m staring at him in astonishment. “I make you what?”

Travis’s face twists like he’s regretting what he said. “Nothin’.”

I open my mouth, but his suddenly shuttered expression makes me bite back my words. He’s said more just now than he’s ever said to me before, and I don’t want to push too far and have him retreat again.

I like it better when he’s talking to me for real.

I think about everything we’ve said. “Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”

He glances at me with raised eyebrows. “I never said you were.”

“I can shoot a gun and use my knife.”

“I know it.”

“I did okay with you. That first day. Getting you away from my motorcycle. I did okay.”

“You did good.” His voice sounds sincere, but he’s not meeting my eyes.

I frown. “What? What aren’t you saying?”

He opens his mouth and then closes it again the way I had earlier.

“Tell me.” My voice isn’t pushy. It’s almost pleading. “What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. You did good.” He tightens his lips and then says, “You would’ve kept most people away. I mean it. But I coulda got your gun away if I wanted.”

“What? No, you couldn’t have!”

He doesn’t argue, but the look he shoots me is skeptical.

“Seriously? You could have taken it from me?” Not for a minute do I doubt his word. This man wouldn’t lie to me about something like that. “I thought I did okay. You backed off.”

“You did do okay. Like I said, you would’ve kept most people away from you.”

“But not you? If you’d wanted to get me, you could have.” I sigh and slump slightly. “What did I do wrong?”

“You relied on the gun. If your faith is in a gun, then you’re never gonna be able to always defend yourself.”

The words ring true, and I think about them for a long time. Eventually I ask, “Will you teach me? To do better? I know I’m small, but I don’t want to feel helpless. Will you show me?”

Travis turns his head, and both his gaze and his jaw soften. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll help you.”

Purchase Last Light

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

THE WALLFLOWER WAGER by Tessa Dare

Title: THE WALLFLOWER WAGER
Author: Tessa Dare

ISBN: 9780062672162
Price: $7.99
On-Sale Date: 8/13/19



Cover Copy:
They call him the Duke of Ruin.

To an undaunted wallflower, he's just the beast next door.
Wealthy and ruthless, Gabriel Duke clawed his way from the lowliest slums to the pinnacle of high society—and now he wants to get even.
Loyal and passionate, Lady Penelope Campion never met a lost or wounded creature she wouldn’t take into her home and her heart.
When her imposing—and attractive—new neighbor demands she clear out the rescued animals, Penny sets him a challenge. She will part with her precious charges, if he can find them loving homes.
Done, Gabriel says. How hard can it be to find homes for a few kittens?
And a two-legged dog.
And a foul-mouthed parrot.
And a goat, an otter, a hedgehog . . .
Easier said than done, for a cold-blooded bastard who wouldn’t know a loving home from a workhouse. Soon he’s covered in cat hair, knee-deep in adorable, and bewitched by a shyly pretty spinster who defies his every attempt to resist. Now she’s set her mind and heart on saving him.
Not if he ruins her first.
Author Bio:
Tessa Dare is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty historical romances. Her books have won numerous accolades, including Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® award (twice) and the RT Book Reviews Seal of Excellence. Booklist magazine named her one of the “new stars of historical romance,” and her books have been contracted for translation in more than a dozen languages.
A librarian by training and a booklover at heart, Tessa makes her home in Southern California, where she lives with her husband, their two children, and a trio of cosmic kitties.
Excerpt:
She circled back, standing before him. “There now. Better?”
He gave a reluctant nod.
“Can you move your arm in all directions?”
He rolled his shoulder to prove it. “Yes.”
“What about your grip?
“My grip is strong.”
“Perhaps I should wrap the arm in a sling.”
“I do not need a sling.”
“Wait here. I’ll dash upstairs to fetch some linen and—”
“For the love of God, woman. My shoulder is fine.” He took her by the waist and lifted her straight off the floor, until they were eye to eye. “There. Believe me now?”
She nodded, wide-eyed.
“Good.”
In his hands, she was delicate, breakable. Her hair was a golden treasure he should never, ever touch. And oh, how he hungered for those soft, pink lips.
The familiar voice echoed in his ears.
Don’t touch, boy. She’s not for the likes of you.
Put. Her. Down.
But before Gabe could lower those beribboned pink slippers to the floor, she captured his sooty, sweaty face in her hands—
And kissed him on the lips.


Thursday, August 8, 2019

Brazen and the Beast by Sarah MacLean


Title: Brazen and the Beast
Author: Sarah MacLean

ISBN:   9780062692078
Price: $7.99
On-Sale Date: 7/30/19

Cover Copy:

New York Times Bestselling Author Sarah MacLean returns with the next book in the Bareknuckle Bastards series about three brothers bound by a secret that they cannot escapeand the women who bring them to their knees.
The Lady’s Plan
When Lady Henrietta Sedley declares her twenty-ninth year her own, she has plans to inherit her father’s business, to make her own fortune, and to live her own life. But first, she intends to experience a taste of the pleasure she’ll forgo as a confirmed spinster. Everything is going perfectly…until she discovers the most beautiful man she’s ever seen tied up in her carriage and threatening to ruin the Year of Hattie before it’s even begun.
The Bastard’s Proposal
When he wakes in a carriage at Hattie’s feet, Whit, a king of Covent Garden known to all the world as Beast, can’t help but wonder about the strange woman who frees him—especially when he discovers she’s headed for a night of pleasure . . . on his turf. He is more than happy to offer Hattie all she desires…for a price.
An Unexpected Passion
Soon, Hattie and Whit find themselves rivals in business and pleasure. She won’t give up her plans; he won’t give up his power . . . and neither of them sees that if they’re not careful, they’ll have no choice but to give up everything . . . including their hearts.
Author Bio:
A life-long romance reader, Sarah MacLean wrote her first romance novel on a dare, and never looked back. She is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of historical romances and a columnist for The Washington Post, where she writes about the romance genre. She lives in New York City. Visit her at www.sarahmaclean.net.
Excerpt:
Chapter One

September 1837
Mayfair

In twenty-eight years and three hundred sixty-four days, Lady Henrietta Sedley liked to think that she’d learned a few things.
She’d learned, for example, that if a lady could not get away with wearing trousers (an unfortunate reality for the daughter of an earl, even one who had begun life without title or fortune), then she should absolutely ensure that her skirts included pockets. A woman never knew when she might require a bit of rope, or a knife to cut it, after all.
She’d also learned that any decent escape from her Mayfair home required the cover of darkness and a carriage driven by an ally. Coachmen tended to talk a fine game when it came to keeping secrets, but were ultimately beholden to those who paid their salaries. An important addendum to that particular lesson was this: The best of allies was often the best of friends.
And perhaps first on the list of things she had learned in her lifetime was how to tie a Bosun knot. She’d been able to do that for as long as she could remember.
With such an obscure and uncommon collection of knowledge, one might imagine that Henrietta Sedley would have known precisely what to do in the likelihood she discovered a human male bound and unconscious in her carriage.
One would be incorrect.
In point of fact, Henrietta Sedley would never have described such a scenario as a likelihood. After all, she might have been more comfortable on London’s docks than in its ballrooms, but Hattie’s impressive collection of life experience lacked anything close to a criminal element.
And yet, here she was, pockets full, dearest friend at her side, standing in the pitch dark on the night before her twenty-ninth birthday, about to steal away from Mayfair for a night of best-laid plans, and…
Lady Eleanora Madewell whistled, low and unladylike at Hattie’s ear. Daughter of a duke and the Irish actress he loved so much he’d made her a duchess, Nora had the kind of brashness that was allowed in those with impervious titles and scads of money. “There’s a bloke in the gig, Hattie.”
Hattie did not look away from the bloke in question. “Yes, I see that.”
“There wasn’t a bloke in the gig when we hitched the horses.”
“No, there wasn’t.” They’d left the hitched—and most definitely empty—carriage in the dark rear drive of Sedley House not three-quarters of an hour earlier, before hiking upstairs to exchange carriage-hitching dresses for attire more appropriate for their evening plans.
At some point between corset and kohl, someone had left her an extraordinarily unwelcome package.
“Seems we would’ve noticed a bloke in the gig,”
“I should think we would have,” came Hattie’s distracted reply. “This is really just awful timing.”
Nora cut her a look. “Is there a good time for a man to be bound in one’s carriage?”
Hattie imagined there wasn’t, but, “He could have selected a different evening. What a terrible birthday gift.” She squinted into the dark interior of the carriage. “Do you think he’s dead?”
Please, don’t let him be dead.
Silence. Then, a thoughtful, “Does one store dead men in carriages?” Nora reached forward, her coachman’s coat pulling tight over her shoulders, and poked the dead man in question. He did not move. “He’s not moving,” she added. “Could be dead.”
Hattie sighed, removing a glove and leaning into the carriage to place two fingers to the man’s neck. “I’m sure he’s not dead.”
“What are you doing?” Nora whispered, urgently. “If he’s not dead, you’ll wake him!”
“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” Hattie pointed out. “Then we could ask him to kindly exit our conveyance and we could be on our way.”
“Oh, yes. This brute seems like precisely the kind of man who would immediately do just that and not immediately take his revenge. He’d no doubt doff his cap and wish us a fine good evening.”
“He’s not wearing a cap,” Hattie pointed out, unable to refute any of the rest of the assessment of the mysterious, possibly dead man. He was very broad, and very solid, and even in the darkness she could tell that this wasn’t a man with whom one took a turn about a ballroom.
This was the kind of man who ransacked a ballroom.
“What do you feel?” Nora pressed.
“No pulse.” Though she wasn’t precisely certain of the location one would find a pulse. “But he’s—”
Warm.
Dead men were not warm, and this man was very warm. Like a fire in winter. The kind of warm that made someone realize how cold she might be.
Ignoring the silly thought, Hattie moved her fingers down the column of his neck, to the place where it disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt, where the curve of his shoulder and the slope of…the rest of him… met in a fascinating indentation.
“Anything now?”
“Quiet.” Hattie held her breath. Nothing. She shook her head.
“Christ.” It wasn’t a prayer.
Hattie couldn’t have agreed more. But then…
There. A small flutter. She pressed a touch more firmly. The flutter became firm. Slow. Even. “I feel it. She said. “He’s alive.” She repeated herself. “He’s alive.” She exhaled, long and relieved. “He’s not dead.”
“Excellent. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s unconscious in the carriage, and you have somewhere to be.” She paused. “We should leave him and take the curricle.”
Hattie had been planning for this particular excursion on this particular night for a full three months. This was the night that would begin her twenty-ninth year. The year her life would become her own. The year she would become her own. And she had a very specific plan for a very specific location at a very specific hour, for which she had donned a very specific frock. And yet, as she stared at the man in her carriage, specifics seemed not at all important.
What seemed important was seeing his face.
Clinging to the handle at the edge of the door, Hattie collected the lantern from the upper rear corner of the carriage before swinging back out to face Nora, whose gaze flickered immediately to the unlit container.
Nora tilted her head. “Hattie. Leave him. Let’s take the curricle.”
“Just a peek,” Hattie replied.
The tilt became a shake. “If you peek, you’ll regret it.”
“I have to peek,” Hattie insisted, casting about for a decent reason—ignoring the odd fact that she was unable to tell her friend the truth. “I have to untie him.”
“Not necessarily,” Nora pointed out. “Someone thought he was best left tied up, and who are we to disagree?” Hattie was already reaching into the pocket of the carriage door for a flint. “What of your plans?”
There was plenty of time for her plans. “Just a peek,” she repeated, the oil in the lantern catching fire. She closed the door and turned to face the carriage, lifting the light high, casting a lovely golden glow over—
“Oh, my,” she said.
Nora choked back a laugh. “Not such a bad gift after all, perhaps.”
The man had the most beautiful face Hattie had ever seen. The most beautiful face anyone had ever seen, she imagined. She leaned closer, taking in his warm, bronze skin, the high cheekbones, the long, straight nose, the dark slashes of his brows and the impossibly long lashes that lay like feathers against his cheeks.
“What kind of man…” she trailed off. Shook her head.
What kind of man looked like this?
What kind of man looked like this and somehow landed in the carriage of Hattie

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Title: One Fine Duke by Lenora Bell

Title: One Fine Duke
Author: Lenora Bell

ISBN: 9780062692504
Price: $7.99
On-Sale Date: 7/23/19

Cover Copy:

USA Today bestselling author Lenora Bell returns with her third book in the sexy School for Dukes series.

Ready.
Raised in the countryside by her overprotective uncle, Miss Mina Penny’s dream of a triumphant London season is finally here. She determined her perfect match long ago: Rafe Bentley, the wickedest rake of them all. There’s only one very large, very unyielding obstacle: Rafe’s brother Drew, the reclusive Duke of Thorndon.
Aim.
This was supposed to be simple. Duke goes to London. Duke selects suitable bride. Love match? Not a chance. But when Drew meets Mina, she complicates everything. How can a lady armed with such beauty and brains fall for his irresponsible degenerate of a brother? Drew vows to save her from heartbreak and ruin, no matter the cost.
Desire!
But Mina is no damsel in distress. She’s daring, intuitive, passionate…and halfway to melting Drew’s cold heart. And although Mina thought she knew exactly what she wanted, one breathtakingly seductive kiss from Drew changes everything. Now Mina must decide between long-held dreams and dangerous new desires. Could her true destiny lie in the arms of a duke?
Author Bio:
Lenora Bell is a USA Today bestselling, award-winning author of historical romances. A teacher with an MFA in Creative Writing, Lenora has lived and worked on five continents. She currently lives in New Zealand with her carpenter husband and two tiger-striped rescue kitties. She loves hearing from readers! Sign up for her mailing list to hear about new books, sales, and giveaways.
Excerpt:
“There he is, Wilhelmina,” Grizzy whispered, staring reverently across the crowded ballroom. “The Duke of Thorndon.”
Holy hell he’s handsome, thought Mina.
Jaw-dropping-on-the-floor handsome. Drool-on-your-lace-fichu handsome.
Distract her from her plan with his brother, handsome.
Her uncle had been right. Thorndon was a fine figure of a man. Objectively speaking, the finest she’d ever beheld.
Tall as a doorframe, with a face hewn from the same granite as the rugged Cornish coastline.
A face rendered seductive by contrasts: sharp cheekbones and curved, sensuous lips. Gleaming ebony hair brushed his collar. His eyes were a light, gold-tinged brown—the only warm thing about him.
He owned this ballroom. Literally. And he owned everyone in it by dint of his oversized presence and the cold, unsmiling arrogance scrawled across his face.
He didn’t even follow the dictates of fashion, preferring plain black attire to the white pantaloons and gaily-colored waistcoats of the other gentlemen.
Why should he follow the dictates of fashion? Everyone should follow him.
“When you’re introduced to Thorndon, pray speak as seldom as possible,” Grizzy whispered. “Attempt to appear biddable and do try to recall my decorum lessons. Remember, no one in London knows anything about you, thank the Lord.”
Mina had seen several polished, elegant young ladies staring at her, nudging each other and whispering. She was an outsider, a usurper, her proper place in the social hierarchy not yet established.
They needn’t worry. She had no designs upon their prize duke. And she was about as unpolished as a debutante could be—as rough as an un-sanded plank. If anyone touched her they might get splinters.
She longed to shed her country skin swiftly and emerge as the sophisticated social butterfly her mother had been. But she knew that it would take time, observation, and experimentation.
Her first flirtatious conversation, first kiss, first taste of brandy, first adventure…it was all ahead of her.
She couldn’t wait to taste it all.

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Carpool by Noelle Adams




Four Stars


I was first introduced to Noelle Adams when she wrote under the name Claire Kent. I love
d her book “Escort.” Even though “Carpool” is not an erotica like Escort, Adams still had me captivated by the main characters and I wanted to see how they would resolve their conflict.  Marcus Greene and Jennifer are opposites. Where she was the good girl, Marcus was the legendary bad boy.  They always had a bit of conflict between them.  Jennifer always saw Marcus as unnecessarily difficult although very attractive.  When Jennifer needs a ride to work he becomes her only option.  Jennifer hates to ask Marcus for the help but other than moving out of town and closer to their common place of employment she has few other options.

During their shared commute they slowly start to peel back their layers.  During the 45 minute commute back and forth they begin to get to know each other. Marcus confesses that his reputation sometimes frustrated him but he stuck around his hometown to help his parents. In a similar situation, Jennifer is in a similar situation. She is also taking care of her grandma who is in a nursing home and facing health issue. Although Jennifer is attracted to Marcus she is not aware of his attraction to her.  Marcus takes it slow until he is sure that Jennifer is open to taking their friendship to the next level.
Overall, this was a short and fun read. Adams provided enough tension and chemistry between the main characters. She also added enough substance to their personalities to make them likable. The conflict that arises is small but enough to help them see that they both have strong feelings for each other. Another aspect that I really like is that even though this is a short read, I am already looking forward to the next story in the series, “Office Mate”.  “Office Mate” is about her friend Becky and her new office mate, the new English Professor. The immediately dislike one another and I immediately wanted to read the story! 

Tuesday, July 9, 2019

SAY NO TO THE DUKE by: Eloisa James


Title: SAY NO TO THE DUKE
Author: Eloisa James




ISBN: 9780062877826
Price: $7.99
On-Sale Date: 6/25/19

Cover Copy:
Could she possibly refuse a duke’s hand—in favor of a sardonic, sinful rake?
Lady Betsy Wilde’s first season was triumphant by any measure, and a duke has proposed—but before marriage, she longs for one last adventure.
No gentleman would agree to her scandalous plan—but Lord Jeremy Roden is no gentleman. He offers a wager. If she wins a billiards game, he’ll provide the breeches.
If he wins…she is his, for one wild night.
But what happens when Jeremy realizes that one night will never be enough? In the most important battle of his life, he’ll have to convince Betsy to say no to the duke.
Author Bio:
 Eloisa James is a USA Today and New York Times bestselling author and professor of English literature, who lives with her family in New York, but can sometimes be found in Paris or Italy. She is the mother of two and, in a particularly delicious irony for a romance writer, is married to a genuine Italian knight. Visit her at www.eloisajames.com.
Excerpt:
They moved toward each other as if they were following the steps of a very slow, very grand country dance. One that was danced by kings and queens and countryfolk alike.
When they were  beside  each  other, she  squared her shoulders and met his eyes. “I decided to come to you. I hope that is all right.”
“I do believe that you are the bravest woman I’ve ever met,” he replied.
He couldn’t have said anything better; Betsy felt herself begin to glow. “I haven’t been brave to this point, but I have made up my mind to change. I outlawed being nervous, but now I need to outlaw being afraid.” She hesitated. “I have chosen courage, and now I choose happiness.”
“I love you as you are,” he whispered, and then his mouth came down on hers.
Her breath caught in her throat because their tongues met as if they kissed every day, every night. He tasted right, which sent a shiver through her whole  body,  and  pushed  her  against him gently, the way a pebble might roll up a beach when the tide comes in.
One doesn’t fight the tide.