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Anchored Hearts

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Her Thin Blue Lifeline

Title: Her Thin Blue Lifeline

Series: Indigo Knights MC Book I

Author:  A.J. Downey

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: June 28, 2017

Cover Model: Julio Elving

Photographer: FuriousFotog

Cover designed by: Dar Albert from Wicked Smart Designs 
Chrissy Franco has every reason to take one hell of a victory lap around the courtroom. She’s just defended her client to the best of her ability and what’s more? Her client was actually innocent. Oh, she’d killed her husband, baseball legend Skip Maguire, alright; but he’d been about to hit a homerun with Miranda’s head.


His rabid fan base doesn’t agree with the verdict, and they’ve set their sights on Chrissy as the one to blame. One of them is about to set into motion a dangerous game when he publishes poor Chrissy’s address online…


Enter Tony McCormick, a detective with the right kind of attitude and Chrissy’s sort of ex-boyfriend. When he’s called to Chrissy’s apartment, he’s prepared for the worst. He’s a homicide detective after all. When he arrives, it seems that someone might have forgotten to check to see if Chrissy was still alive… now it’s everything he can do to find the man who did this and the other behind it all before it’s really too late.



“Yeah, Tony, got a couple of fresh ones at two-two-one-six, east 53rd; apartment two-oh-six. You’re up.”
I finished scribbling the address he’d given me on a legal pad in front of me saying, “I think this damn city has had enough with the baseball references, Captain.”
“Yeah, whatever, get your ass over there, this city has had enough with the homicides lately, too.”
“You ain’t lying; I’m on it.”
I tossed the receiver back onto its cradle with a clatter. I sat up from where I’d been hunched over my desk and rubbed the back of my neck, giving myself at least enough time to indulge in a stretch before getting up. I picked up the pad of paper, my eyes roving over the address as it tickled the back of my brain.
I knew it, but couldn’t place it. Something about all those twos and sixes was just niggling at me in the worst way but I figured I’d see it soon enough. I needed to get over there before the bodies got cold. Before the medical examiner got any kind of time with them. It helped to see the scene before anything was touched or moved.
I got up and hauled ass, heading down to the garage and my assigned cruiser. It was a short drive from the 12th precinct to the apartment’s address and there was plenty of parking in among the black and whites with their party lights that were already there. Hell, the coroner’s van wasn’t even here yet. Just a couple of uniformed units. Lucky me. I double parked and then it clicked… this was Chrissy’s place. She was a lawyer, a defense attorney that I’d taken out a couple of times. We were like ships passing in the night schedule wise, and after the fourth interrupted date, we had pretty much come to the conclusion that it was nice, but it wasn’t going to happen.
That’d been over three years ago, pushing four; I’d always sort of wondered if our paths would cross again. I never imagined it might be on a homicide call in her building, that is, if she still even lived here. Who was I kidding? I knew, deep in my gut from the minute I’d pulled up it was the feisty lawyer’s apartment I was headed to.
“Well you can definitely say there were signs of forced entry, huh detective?” a uniform, Johns by the nametag on his chest, said as I stepped carefully over the shattered debris that’d been Chrissy Franco’s doorframe and lock.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered taking in the raw scene.
There was a blonde, draped back over the arm of the couch, a movie-perfect shot through her fuckin’ forehead, right between the eyes. I walked carefully up to the second body and leaned down over my knees.
“Yeah, that’s Chrissy Franco, alright,” I said, heart heavy in the center of my chest. Regret weighed me down like a thousand pound boulder in the center of my chest. She was beautiful, even like this, body cooling on the floor. If ever there had been one that’d got away, it was Chrissy. I’d thought about her a lot in the intervening years since I’d last seen her. I’d even caught myself lingering in the corridors of the courthouse on the occasions I’d had to be there. Hoping to run into her, hoping to rekindle things; that she might happen to be single, maybe willing to give it a shot again… This was a-fucking-shame, and I was gutted that it had to be me to catch the call.
I pulled on a pair of gloves and went to trace some of her long dark hair away from the side of her face so I could get a better look at her when she gasped.
I nearly shot through the fuckin’ roof.
“Call a bus!” I screamed and knelt down amid the broken glass and spilled wine, the sweet smell of alcohol and coppery tang of blood singeing my nose even as hope filled me up like a helium goddamn balloon.
“H-he-help me,” she stammered out and I took her hand.
“Ambulance is on the way, just hang on, baby.”
“Yeah, yeah, you remember me?”
“It hurts!” her tone was mournful, pain filled, and I deflated a little on the inside, but I wasn’t willing to show it. Confidence, surety, that’s what she needed right now.
Shit. Both of those things were the last things I was feeling right now. I wasn’t used to live victims, especially not ones I’d had the occasional date with. I couldn’t fucking help her except to wait for paramedics and I hated it. I glared at the uniform who was spewing panicked words into the mic at his shoulder.
“Didn’t you check to see if she was a-fuckin’-live!?” I demanded, needing to direct my helpless anger somewhere.
“I mean, who gives a shit, man? I didn’t know! Just look at her!” he shouted and I swore I was gonna have a quiet conversation with him and his CO later, whether or not she lived or died. That shit wasn’t right. You didn’t get to pick the vic. I strapped down my incendiary rage at the comment and stroked her hand, giving my attention to the wounded woman on the floor, the person that needed it most.
“Hang on, Chrissy, we’re gonna get you some help.” She squeezed my hand and I could swear my heart squeezed down with it, a tight ball of sympathy for her pain.
Nobody deserved this shit. To have someone break down your door; shoot you up, and for what? I thought about it. About the uproar over the Maguire case, it was the likeliest conclusion based on what I knew so far…  Because you did your job?
“Just hang on for me, baby. Stay with me…”
Rattled didn’t even begin to cover how I felt about this one.

Also by A.J. Downey
Check out A.J. Downey's website for purchase links
The Sacred Hearts MC series
The Virtues Trilogy
(A Sacred Hearts MC spin off)
The Moon Forged Trilogy
(A Paranormal Romance trilogy co-written with Ryan Kells)
The Sacred Brotherhood
The Sacred Hearts MC continued

If you enjoy hot, tattooed bikers and the women they love, you'll want this anthology on your reading list. Some of your favorite MC authors have teamed up and now these bad boy bikers are helping to raise money for End Rape On Campus.

A.J. Downey is a born and raised Seattle, WA Native. She finds inspiration from her surroundings, through the people she meets and likely as a byproduct of way too much caffeine.

She has lived many places and done many things though mostly through her own imagination… An avid reader all of her life it’s now her turn to try and give back a little, entertaining as she has been entertained.

Media Links

If  you want the easy button digest, as well as a bunch of exclusive content you can’t get anywhere else, sign up for her mailing list right here.


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Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Fate Gisele St. Claire

Title: Fate 
Author: Gisele St. Claire 
Genre: Romance 


The Killarny Estate is getting ready for the Waters Derby. I still remember little Sara Waters and how she’d grabbed and kissed me in the barn on the Waters property when she was 10 years old. The last time I’d seen her I’d been with my ex-wife, Kelly. The only good thing out of that marriage had been my 12-year-old daughter. I haven't had a solid relationship since.
When Sara shows up at the ranch to tell me that her dad isn’t letting the Killarny’s enter the derby, that we’re doing
something illegal, well let's just say, I didn't take it very well. There’s no way in hell we’re not going, and no way in hell I can stay away from that hot, little body.


My father’s instructions were clear – tell the Killarny’s they can’t race. Our families have history and I refuse to tell them over the phone, so I'll drive to the Estate to tell them in person. But Pete Killarny refuses to accept my dad’s decision. Who am I supposed to believe: the father who’s cared for me all my life or the hot cowboy I’ve loved since I was 10 years old?

If fantasies involving hay lofts give you a thrill, along with the thought of a family of HOT brothers, read on…

If you're into quick, hot and sexy erotica romance with a twist then you've found the right gal!
 I love staying up late and watching my characters come to life on paper.

Shana Vanterpool Dark Master

Title: Dark Master 
Author: Shana Vanterpool
Genre: Erotic BDSM Romance 

Master was dark, dark, dark.

His touch.
His love.
His anger.

And soon, so was I.

Miya Reemond fell in love without knowing who Jaxon Damon really was. When she finds out that he’s a dominant in the alluring and dangerous world of BDSM, she wants nothing more than to be his submissive. Clouded by lust and obsession, she falls head first into the intoxicating and erotic lifestyle. She soon learns that love isn't easy, especially when it relies on her submission. Jax doesn’t know or do love, he only understands pain. Miya immediately turns his world upside down. She wants his heart, his good. But there isn’t any good left in him to give her.

Love doesn’t exist in his world.
She’s never had it.

Will they embrace the darkness, or will it swallow them both?

Book one in the Dark Masters Series is an erotic and sordid look into the tempting world of sexual dominance, submission, and love.

**This is an erotic BDSM romance. Not intended for readers under 18. Contains dark sexual content and a taboo romance.**

“We’ll go change your address tomorrow. Make it official. Make us official. We’re really doing this?” There was a question in his voice, a fear in his heart. “What happens when I tell you my secret, Miya? What happens when I want you more than life? And I tell you my secret and you can’t look at me any longer without seeing a victim? What happens to us?” He grabbed up my face. “What happens to me if there is no you?”
I wondered if thinking of our pasts reminded him that I did not in fact know his, and he knew mine. But all that had done for me was make me yearn for him more. He was my happy place. “Jaxon, do you know what I want all day and all night?”
“What?” His thumbs stroked my cheeks, the soft warm pads of his fingers sending tingles down my spine.
“You. I want you, Jaxon. I’ve never wanted anything in my life until I met you. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to leave you. I won’t ever see a victim and I won’t ever want anything but you. You have to trust me, my dark master, the same way I have to trust you.”
He sighed, letting me go and heading into the house. “Trust is not something I understand.”

Romance author, coffee drinker, and bad boy aficionado. Every second not spent breathing is an opportunity to write and read. I live in Northern California with my family and actress dog, Halle Bella. (Just Bella when she decides to cut the crap.) Escaping with a good book is something I live for and I write so others can do the same.

   Twitter or @ShanaVauthor

Helen of Troy, Illinois by Annie Sereno


Blog Tour

Title: Helen of Troy, Illinois

Author: Annie Sereno

Genre: Contemporary Romantic Comedy

Release Date: May 2, 2o17

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Helen of Troy, Illinois, is back home in the heartland to wage a war—with nothing to lose but her heart.
With a bank account on life support and a resume of dead-end jobs (one involving a Chuck E. Cheese costume), Helen Hubler left Manhattan for Troy, Illinois, to sell her family property. The only interested buyer is the smoking hot veterinarian next door—the same man who destroyed the career of her recently deceased college boyfriend whose last request she refused. Guilt bolsters her resolve to resist Dr. Gordon Ruckman’s offer...and to wage a little war in the bargain. Her messy life might be payback for the original Helen of Troy’s crime, but this is one battle she’ll win. Even if his plan to build a wildlife rescue center is the best idea ever. Even if she’s caught between a rock and a—considering the white-hot chemistry between them—very hard place. And even if her heart, like the original Troy, has a way inside for a determined hero.
“What do you want on your hero?” the server asked.
“One of everything,” she and the man with the sexy voice replied at the same time.
Helen’s mouth watered as she watched the server heap the Delphi Deluxe with olives and onions. Indulgence was her problem, right up there with expensive taste and what her bank called rampant depletion of funds. An impossible combination, like wanting a man with Louis’s maturity and stability and Perry’s sensitivity and social conscience. One of everything.
Resolution number two. Decide once and for all if she was going to become Mrs. Mendes.
Or not.
“I see we both like a hearty lunch.”
We. She and the man with the voice, the hot guy with the swoony scent. The Tiffany box slipped from Helen’s fingers as she looked up into a pair of penetrating hazel eyes set above high cheekbones and a classically perfect nose. Gold and auburn strands streaked his chestnut hair as thick and heavy as a horse’s tail.
He pointed to her handbag. “Looking for something?”
“Just some loose change. And my wits. Also loose,” she said, pulling her wallet from the handbag.
Two deep dimples curved in the craggy folds of his handsome face when he smiled. A luscious lip smile.
Crap. How could she think long, hard, and deep about Louis when she was struck witless in a cloud of pheromones?
Long, hard, and deep.
Double crap.
“Hot sauce,” he told the server.
I’m being seduced by a man ordering a sandwich.
Helen licked away the imagined burn of hot sauce on her lips. She had to get her mind around another idea fast. Two of her greatest pleasures, sex and subs, were combining for the first time in a most intriguing way.
“That’ll be five dollars and forty-four cents,” the server told her.
After paying him, Helen put the wallet back in her handbag, squashing a container of Strawberry Fields Tic-Tacs, a Kiss Me Coral tube of lipstick, an unfinished New York Times crossword puzzle—and the letter from her father announcing he was getting remarried.
Helen glanced up again at the guy who was soon to sink his teeth into a Hercules with one of everything on it. This time she noticed a jagged white scar on the right side of his face, curving from his temple to below his cheekbone like a comma. The touch of sadness in his eyes was certainly familiar. If she had learned anything by now, it was that life was a pain in the rear for everybody. Even sexy hunks who oozed confidence from every pore.
Breaking the news of her dad’s remarriage was the latest pain in her rear. She had no idea what to expect when her mom read the letter. Her worst fear was that, even though Lena had been divorced for ten years, she’d get sappy and sentimental and decide not to sell their property after all. But Helen needed cold, hard cash here and now. And if Lena needed a cold, hard reminder that Zach Hubler was a screw-up, she had no problem whatsoever giving it to her.
She reached across the counter to take the sandwich from the server.
“Hope you enjoy it,” Hercules said when she brushed against his arm.
“You too.”
She read the sign on the cookie tray above the cash register. C’mon. One won’t hurt you.
The hell it wouldn’t.
“Good-bye,” she murmured.
As she snapped her handbag shut, a tampon in the top pocket popped out and landed on the floor. It rolled a few inches and stopped neatly, mortifyingly, between the hunk’s muddy boots.
He stepped away as if he hadn’t seen a thing. She snatched it off the floor, upending a row of potato chip bags.
Double damn.
Smiling, he bent down to help her put them back on the counter—along with the canister of straws she’d upended. Forget about her swath of destruction. If they clunked heads, she was getting the frick out of there.
“See ya,” he called out when she finally made it to the door.
I sure as hell hope not.
Helen waved a hand over her shoulder. Eye contact was out of the question. As was any other kind of contact.
She made it back to the car without dropping anything else—small comfort since her dignity had already rolled away like the errant tampon. As had her cool in the humidity of this last day of May.
From the rearview window, Helen watched Hercules saunter to his truck, fold those long legs inside it, and drive away. She turned the key in the ignition and Elvis’s voice blasted from the speakers. All shook up, he sang.
Elvis who, if rumor was correct, had died eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich, buck-naked on his bathroom floor.
Death by sandwich—or embarrassment. Take your pick.
To Annie, every story is a love story, even Moby Dick. Why else would Captain Ahab chase that pesky whale all over creation? And the relationship between Huck and Tom in Huckleberry Finn has bromance written all over it. So naturally she writes romance novels. Her heroines and heroes never behave exactly as she wants them to, being spirited, independent folk. And they talk back. When they should be listening. To her. But if they make their fetching way into readers’ hearts, well, then, she’s perfectly fine with that.
When she’s not wrestling her daydreams into prose—in which she uses words like fetching with wild abandon—Annie wields a palette, spade, and mandolin (the kitchen utensil, not the instrument) with less-than-wild abandon. The pen is mightier than the sword, but she’s scared to death of an empty canvas, rampant zucchini, and her food processor.
In possession of (too) many academic degrees, a well-worn passport, and stacks of Change of Address forms tracking her moves from one end of the United States to the other, Annie now resides in the Midwest with her husband, a gazillion photos of her two sons who’ve recently flown the nest, darn them, and an alarming number of books, swimming goggles, and shoes. Annie loves to hear from her readers. You can find her here:

Small Town Scandal by Daisy Prescott

Title: Small Town Scandal
Series: Wingmen #5 (Standalone)
Author: Daisy Prescott
Genre: Second Chance Romance
Release Date: June 27, 2017


Another wingmen meets his match and this time it's scandalous.

Carter Kelso is a man with a plan. And goats.
Ashley Kingston is a woman with a reputation.
Can he earn back her love before their past catches up with them and destroys everything?

On the island, my last name is synonymous with scandal. With a notorious father and a famous brother, I've been on the sidelines of our small town's gossip circle for years. Nothing to see here. Just a man and his goats, happily going through life. Not a care in the world. Too bad it's all lies.

I'm tired of trying not to be in love with Ashley Kingston, our very own island jezebel. Some people think she's a slut. They think they know her. They're wrong. Screw them.

Reputations can be deceiving. I should know.

Small Town Scandal is a second chance romance standalone novel and the fifth book in the Wingmen series. You do not have to read the other novels first.

Purchase Links

$2.99 for a limited time


Author Bio

USA Today Bestselling Author Daisy Prescott writes romantic comedies about real love.

Love with Altitude, her newest Rom Com series, is set in Aspen, Colorado features life and love in a small town. Her Modern Love Stories feature characters in their thirties and forties finding and rediscovering love in unexpected and humorous ways. The popular Wingmen books star regular guys who often have beards, drive trucks, and love deeply once they fall.

Born and raised in San Diego, Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband and an imaginary house goat. When not writing about herself in the third person, Daisy can be found traveling, gardening, baking, or lost in a good book.

Author Links