The Resistance

About the Book

Title: Winner Take All

Author: Mary Rodgers

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Hot shot skier and unrepentant party girl Carly Carrington is on top of the world until a disastrous crash destroys her championship dreams. Can she lower her guard long enough to trust the one man who might be able to heal her body…and her heart?

When it comes to sports doctors, buttoned-up Paul Blackburn is the best of the best. But when Carly upends his carefully ordered little world, will Paul fight his one chance at true love, or go for the gold in… WINNER TAKE ALL.

Giveaway

 

Two lucky winners will win a Kindle Fire loaded with “Winner Take All” and “Project Catchstar”.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Book Excerpts

Excerpt #1:

Paul

I handed the judge the file he'd requested.

A silent Carly perched on the arm of a chair that was as far away from Judge Whiting as she could get without being in the next room, rubbing her thumb into her palm over and over as she studied her shoes.

Pale and tear-streaked--why had she been crying?--she was still lovely, her sun-bleached hair curling up around her face in messy layers, her green blouse setting off her hazel eyes above her Cupid's bow of a mouth that looked too perfect to be real.

Although it had certainly felt real several weeks ago, when Carly had made one of my fantasies come true. Well, almost. My forbidden daydreams about kissing that luscious mouth involved both of us being willing and sober. God knows I'd been willing. But she hadn't been sober.

And that, for me, was an absolute deal-breaker. My jaw tightened as I thought about my broken mess of a brother. On every possible level.

I'd been pretty cold to her afterward. But that was because I was furious with myself, not her. Getting suckered in by her bad girl appeal--ridiculous. I knew better. Shouldn't have allowed it to happen. Shouldn't have wanted it to happen. Headstrong, reckless, unpredictable Carly was the opposite of what I needed to have around.

Well-practiced routines made my life run just the way I liked it. Classic clothing that functioned as both uniform and armor. Pleasant women whose appearance in my life was welcomed, but whose disappearance made scarcely a ripple.

Not jacked-up, cocky skiers whose kisses left me rock hard and dangerously close to losing control.

EXCERPT #2

Carly

Door hinges squeaked, and a barefoot Paul clad only in pajama bottoms padded inside. "Carly? Why are you up? Are you okay?"

I swallowed hard as he approached. "I'm kind of freaked out. Put my boots back on for the first time since…since I fell…" My trembling increased. I slammed one of my shaking hands against the walkway. "This is stupid, this is so stupid, they're just the damn boots for God's sake. We aren't even near a mountain, what is wrong with me?"

Paul knelt beside me and gathered my unresisting body into his arms. "It's trauma. It'd be a miracle if you didn't suffer from some kind of PTSD after that crash."

"I've been dreaming about it again. I think that's what triggered this. Shit. I need to find a way to handle it, I need…" I decided that dignity was overrated and curled up against Paul, pressing my cheek against his chest. His sleep-warmed skin smelled of soap and a faint note of pine-scented cologne.

"It's okay. It'll be okay, I promise." Paul reached down and tugged off my boots. "We'll try again with these later. But right now you need to relax. Jesus, Carly, it's the middle of the damn night. Stop pushing yourself so hard." He picked me up and stepped off the walkway into a grassy swath of the garden.

My laugh was tinged with more than a little hysteria, even to my ears. "Stop pushing myself? Have you met me?"

He chuckled and set me down. With deft hands, he pulled the blanket from around my shoulders, spread it out on the ground and repositioned me on top.

I nestled closer to him, drawing real comfort from his proximity.

"We'll just sit here for a bit, all right? There's no rush. Can you match my breathing pattern? Nice and deep, okay? Try it with me." He inhaled slowly, controlling his breath on the exhale. "Like that." He pitched his voice at a level someone might use on a skittish horse.

Ordinarily I would have bristled at the notion of being handled. But he sounded so soothing, and made me feel safe in ways I hadn't experienced in ages. It couldn't hurt to try. After a few false starts, I managed to coordinate my breath in time to his.

"Good. You're doing great. Keep going." He stroked my back and whispered encouragement, the steady rhythm of his movements lulling me into a relaxed, meditative state. My rigid muscles softened as the adrenaline gradually receded from my body. The fear faded away as well, replaced by a growing awareness of Paul's body wrapped around mine.

I couldn't have said when the mood changed, the shift was so subtle. But little by little, I raised my head, gazing at Paul through wondering eyes, my mouth only a few inches from his. I didn't move any closer at first, drinking in his half-sleepy, half-sultry expression, reveling in the power of our attraction that clearly held him as captive as it did me. A dreamy tension built up between the two of us, and when I finally leaned in to close the distance, Paul met me halfway.

So soft, so sweet. We kissed as if it were the first time, a tentative exploration that turned heated in a matter of moments.

 

 

Author Bio

 

A career performer and storyteller, Mary was the keyboardist and lead vocalist in an all-female rock band for a number of years, and has acted in leading roles in plays and musicals across the globe.

 

Her first screenplay, Common Ground, was a finalist in the Moondance International Film Festival competition, and she is a member of the Screen Actor’s Guild/AFTRA and the New York chapter of Women in Film and Television.

 

An avid gamer and unrepentant nerd, Mary’s been a fan of romance, science fiction and fantasy novels since she was old enough to hide them between the pages of her textbooks during geometry class in high school. She is delighted to introduce the first book in her new contemporary romance series, Winner Take All.

Links

Twitter – @mb_rodgers

www.mary-rodgers.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075TRJ4SP

 

 

 

About the Set

 

 

Title: The Sullivans Boxed Set

 

 

Author: Bella Andre

 

 

Genre: Contemporary Romance

 

 

More than 6 million readers have already fallen in love with the Sullivans! Now get ready to meet your new favorite family in Bella Andre’s New York Times and USA Today bestselling contemporary romances with the first three books in the #1 hit series.

 

 

“Not since Nora Roberts has anyone been able to write a big family romance series with every book as good as the last! Bella Andre never disappoints!” Revolving Bookcase Reviews

 

 

THE LOOK OF LOVE

Chloe Peterson is having a bad night. A really bad night. The large bruise on her cheek can attest to that. And when her car skids off the side of a wet country road straight into a ditch, she’s convinced even the gorgeous guy who rescues her in the middle of the rain storm must be too good to be true. Or is he?

 

 

As a successful photographer who frequently travels around the world, Chase Sullivan has his pick of beautiful women, and whenever he’s home in San Francisco, one of his seven siblings is usually up for causing a little fun trouble. Chase thinks his life is great just as it is–until the night he finds Chloe and her totaled car on the side of the road in Napa Valley. Not only has he never met anyone so lovely, both inside and out, but he quickly realizes she has much bigger problems than her damaged car. Soon, he is willing to move mountains to love–and protect–her, but will she let him?

 

 

FROM THIS MOMENT ON

For thirty-six years, Marcus Sullivan has been the responsible older brother, stepping in to take care of his seven siblings after their father died when they were children. But when the perfectly ordered future he’s planned for himself turns out to be nothing but a lie, Marcus needs one reckless night to shake free from it all.

 

 

Nicola Harding is known throughout the world by only one name – Nico – for her catchy, sensual pop songs. Only, what no one knows about the twenty-five year old singer is that her sex-kitten image is totally false. After a terrible betrayal by a man who loved fame far more than he ever loved her, she vows not to let anyone else get close enough to find out who she really is…or hurt her again. Especially not the gorgeous stranger she meets at a nightclub, even though the hunger – and the sinful promises – in his dark eyes make her want to spill all her secrets.

 

 

CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE

Gabe Sullivan risks his life every day as a firefighter in San Francisco. But after learning a brutal lesson about professional boundaries, he knows better than to risk his heart to his fire victims ever again. Especially the brave mother and daughter he saved from a deadly apartment fire…and can’t stop thinking about.

 

 

Megan Harris knows she owes the heroic firefighter everything for running into a burning building to save her and her seven-year-old daughter. Everything except her heart. Because after losing her navy pilot husband five years ago, she has vowed to never suffer through loving – and losing – a man with a dangerous job again.

 

 

 

Author Bio

 

 

Bella Andre is the New York Times, USA Today and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of “The Sullivans”, “The Maverick Billionaires”, “The Morrisons”, and the NYT bestselling “Four Weddings and a Fiasco” sweet romance series written as Lucy Kevin.

 

 

Sign up for Bella’s newsletter at www.BellaAndre.com/Newsletter

Visit Bella’s website at www.BellaAndre.com

Follow Bella on twitter at www.twitter.com/bellaandre

Join Bella on Faceboook at www.facebook.com/bellaandrefans

 

 

Having sold more than 6 million books, Bella Andre’s novels have been #1 bestsellers around the world and have appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists 32 times. She has been the #1 Ranked Author at Amazon (on a top 10 list that included Nora Roberts, JK Rowling, James Patterson and Steven King), and Publishers Weekly named Oak Press (the publishing company she created to publish her own books) the Fastest-Growing Independent Publisher in the US. After signing a groundbreaking 7-figure print-only deal with Harlequin MIRA, Bella’s “The Sullivans” series is being released in paperback in the US, Canada, and Australia.

 

 

Known for “sensual, empowered stories enveloped in heady romance” (Publishers Weekly), her books have been Cosmopolitan Magazine “Red Hot Reads” twice and have been translated into ten languages. Winner of the Award of Excellence, The Washington Post called her “One of the top writers in America” and she has been featured by Entertainment Weekly, NPR, USA Today, Forbes, The Wall Street Journal, and TIME Magazine. A graduate of Stanford University, she has given keynote speeches at publishing conferences from Copenhagen to Berlin to San Francisco, including a standing-room-only keynote at Book Expo America in New York City.

 

 

If not behind her computer, you can find her reading her favorite authors, hiking, swimming or laughing. Married with two children, Bella splits her time between the Northern California wine country and a 100 year old log cabin in the Adirondacks.

 

 

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Bewaren

 

About the Book

Title: Seven Threads

Author: Jason Atkinson

Genre: Short Story Collection

Seven Threads is a book of 7 short stories full of twists and turns. A girl on the run, a man accused of murder, a homeless man who finds his way, and much more. While each story is unique, they all offer the same human compassion that is sometimes lacking in today's world. The reader is sure to find each story a page turner full of emotions, and left wanting more!

 

Author Bio

Jason Atkinson is a 32 year old, married man with one adorable toddler. With Seven Threads being his third book, he certainly enjoys writing and also spending time getting to know new people.

 

Links

www.alifeofheart.com

 

Book Excerpts

 

 

1.

 

The Gentle Man

 

Part 1 - Forgiveness

With a somewhat stern and yet gentle approach in his voice, he suddenly spoke. "Forgiveness won't change the past - but it will change the future. Your future."

He looks around the room..."Ok." he said with a broad grin. "Who wants to go first?"

Scanning the room with expectant eyes.

A chair creaks as a man shifts in his seat uncomfortably, both from the metal chair being too harsh and because of the looming topic before him. Towards the back of the room, a cough was heard.

"No one wants to go first?"

 

The room, even though crowded with people, chilling and eery as if you in fact alone with your thoughts. No one s eye contact with him as that might have been a sign of indulgence into this new topic.

 

It getting late into the evening and usually at this time the wrap-up begins, ending the night the same way it always ends.

Wandering eyes look towards the coffee pot. A few towards the windows at the top of the walls. It snowing outside, gently, but consistent. The lamppost illuminate the flakes as the glided slowly down past the windows limited view. Even though the view may have looked quaint, it only resonate with the harsh reality of what inter often brings, and also what this group discussion can often bring

As the second hand on the clock tick awayhe leader of the group to his feet. Everyone watche.

"I think that will be all for tonight" with a meager smile.

Reluctantly and of course thankfully, sighs of relief filled the room. Chairs scraped the floor without a care now while people mingled amongst themselves and eventually dispersed into the cool night air.

Left alone to clean up, the man who had brought them all together

"Will my words ever get through?"

Walking away he head towards the door, turning around one last time to check the room clear.

There no smile this time. Only the face of a tired man, who just want to make one ounce of difference.

The lights out, and he out the door, up the steps, and onto the street above. The door slowly close, and the last noise that ever heard the latch of the lock clicking into place. The room once again dark, all except for that glimmer of light from the windows at the top of the wall.

 

 

 

2.

 

Life is a Rummage Sale

 

Part 1 - Feeling is elieving

The only sounds piercing his ears were heavy rain drops pounding the concrete slabs around him. The occasional engine humm by without a care, while he sat and closed his eyes. It was dark. The only light he saw was from the vehicle headlights that passed him by.

To his left was a cart of belongings, if you could call them belongings at all. To his right, an old dog with only an umbrella for comfort. He sat with his bum on the unforgiving slab his knees and feet drawn close to his chest. This was his only method of staying warm while the rain poured from the sky.

The he wore w at least longsleeve, but not thick enough to withstand the temperatures outside. They would have to do, though, as anything else he could wear was either torn or shortsleeve. His boots stole from a street vendor a few weeks ago. It was either that, or go barefoot, again.

His cart was the building block of a cardboard box that fit as his home. It wasn't much of anything really, but at least it covered all three sides. The opening ng his way, whereas a fully enclosed box would have isolat from the world. The cart held it in place by applying pressure to the side. Otherwise, would limp and useless.

This was his life. It always this way. There was once a time where he was prosperous and wellknown in his community. He had a house, a family, a job he loved, and of course a younger and healthierlooking dog by his side; life was good. It's interesting though how small turns of events can Blinding you with every turn until you finally see where you are and wonder how you ended up here.

Now, this concrete slab was home. Tired and alone, he looked over at his dog who was laying downtrying to sleep. He wished he was like his dogomewhat carefreenext meal and obeying master. That would be so much easier to deal with. He reached over and stroked the wet dog on the head, scratching behind his ear. The dog lay motionless but opened its mouth as a sign of enjoyment.

 

 

 

 

 

3.

 

The Runaway Tracks

 

Part 3 A Smooth Ride

 

The train was almost full, and the platform outside was starting to thin out. Looking at his watch, Pete proclaimed it was just about time to depart. His new friend sitting across from him, nervous but ever so determined would not be backing out now; if anything, she was in for the ride regardless.

 

Your ticket will be validated soon. And when youre caught up here, will direct you to where you should be instead.

 

She just looked at him. Sure enough at that moment she the voice of the grim reaper himself. He was calling for tickets not too far away

 

Thinking about hiding she frantically looked around for somewhere to disappear, as that seemed to be her specialty. The only place was behind the bar, but that was not going to be wellmanaged, and if caught there, she feared an even worse punishment.

 

Pete,re you making this trip again? What is this? The fifth time now for you? They should get you a punch card.

 

If they gave me a punch card, youd be going out of business my friend.

 

As she sat there watching this incredible scene unfold, it would appear apparent that these two knew each other.

 

And whos this with you? Is that your niece youve told me about?

 

Seeing an opportunity, she held out her hand.

 

Hello, yes. Pleased to meet you, I thought it was about time I went on this trip too.

 

Ah yes indeed. Well, its nice to meet you, Selena.

 

She just smiled and then sat back in her seat. Pete and the conductor exchanged a few more words and then he was gone. Pete, sitting back in his seat now also, looked at Selena, and chuckled.

How did you know he hadnt seen a picture of my niece already?

 

Well if that were the case, why did he ask if it was me? We must look somewhat alike if he had seen a picture.

 

Wellplayed Selena. He hasnt seen a photo, but I have talked about her coming on this trip a lot. And you probably noticed he didnt even check our tickets.

 

I did notice. I also saw that I could have saved myself a chunk of change and gotten on for free. She gruffed at this, and Pete just laughed.

 

 

 

About the Book

Title: Grave Injustice

Author: Netta Newbound

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Geri and James return in their most explosive adventure to date.

When next door neighbour, Lydia, gives birth to her second healthy baby boy, James and Geri pray their friend can finally be happy and at peace. But, little do they know Lydia’s troubles are far from over.

Meanwhile, Geri is researching several historic, unsolved murders for James' new book. She discovers one of the prime suspects now resides in Spring Pines Retirement Village, the scene of not one, but two recent killings.

Although the police reject the theory, Geri is convinced the cold case they’re researching is linked to the recent murders. But how? Will she regret delving so deeply into the past?

 

 

Author Bio

Netta Newbound is the author of twelve popular thriller novels/novellas to date including the Adam Stanley Thriller Series and the Cold Case Files. Her debut psychological thriller, An Impossible Dilemma, shot up the charts in 2015 in both the UK and US reaching #1 in several thriller and horror categories. This rapid success gained Netta a name for herself in the thriller genre. The Watcher, another of her bestsellers that reached the top 20 in the Amazon chart, was published through Bloodhound Books, who will also publish her next book, Maggie, in October 2017.

 

Originally from Manchester, England, Netta has travelled extensively and has lived and worked in a variety of exciting places. She now lives in New Zealand with her husband. They have three grown up children and four grandchildren.

 

Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B0745SXJVR/ref=as_li_ss_tl?tag=geo01a-21&s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1500778508&sr=1-7&keywords=grave+injustice&linkCode=sl1&linkId=79c14f51cba8edfcc87c36b18111ec3f

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/nz/en/ebook/grave-injustice-3

Book Excerpts

1

Dalton Lloyd closed the shutter on the serving hatch just as a doddering old woman appeared pushing her walking frame towards him.

“Am I too late?” she asked. “I only want an apple.”

“Do you see the sign? Kitchen’s closed,” Dalton barked.

The woman stepped backwards. A look of total shock played out in the deep wrinkles of her face, and her already watery eyes welled some more.

“Don’t look at me like that, you old witch. I do have a life, you know, unlike you lot sitting around here waiting to die.”

Another old codger, who had been sitting towards the back of the dining room, suddenly jumped to his feet and rushed towards them. “How dare you speak to her like that!” he cried, shaking his fist towards Dalton menacingly.

“And you can shut up, and all. What are you going to do with that? Beat me senseless?” Dalton boomed out a laugh as he turned off the light and exited the side door to where his dilapidated truck was parked. Climbing in, he turned the key and headed out the main gates of the Spring Pines Retirement Village.

Relieved to shake off his day’s work, he headed to his local pub to play on the fruit machines, something he did every night—or on the nights he could afford to, that is.

The White Hart had been his local since leaving school. He didn’t like change and was perfectly happy to go about his daily routine until the day he popped his clogs. He didn’t like working at the retirement village—it did his head in. But the feeble-minded old people more than made up for it with their gullible attitudes and more money than they could possibly spend before they carked it.

He had a few favourites that he’d groomed over the past few months. Befriending the needy bastards had been a doddle—offering to pick up a bit of shopping worked every time and would always culminate in the offer of a cup of tea, leaving him to have a good mooch about their bungalow.

No matter how many times they were told to put their money into a bank or building society, they never seemed to listen, and he would always find a stash of notes either under the mattress, in a large old teapot in the kitchen, or in a shoebox in the wardrobe. They wouldn’t have a clue how much they had and, better still, they would add to it every week. So long as he wasn’t greedy, and didn’t take the lot, they were none the wiser. It was easy pickings to top up his wages with.

Pushing his last pound coin into the slot, he prayed for a win. It was much earlier than he usually left for home, but he’d have no choice if he didn’t win any money. And that would also mean no dinner as he hadn’t a scrap of food in the house.

When the last of the credits spun away, he slammed the heel of his hand on the play button and kicked the front of the machine. “Fucking rip-off piece of shit!”

“That’ll be all for tonight, Dalton, buddy.” Wayne, the hefty barman, lifted the hatch and shuffled his paunch through it. “Come on—or you’ll give me no choice but to bar you. Again.”

Dalton shrugged Wayne’s hand from his arm. “Get your stinking paws off! I’m going. But you wanna get someone out to look at that fucking machine. It’s rigged.”

“You don’t complain when you clear it out though, do you, Dalton?” Wayne grabbed his arm again and shoved him towards the swinging door.

“Alright. Take it easy. I’m going.” Dalton scowled at the much larger man, and then at the pub full of people who had all stopped what they were doing to focus on him. “What the fuck are you lot looking at?” He slammed through the door and out into the chilly night air.

As he approached his vehicle, he dropped his keys in the gutter and, after picking them up, he was startled by a man standing beside him.

“What the fuck do you want?”

The man didn’t say a word. He just stepped forward and punched Dalton on his chin.

Dalton laughed, and then began choking. The punch hadn’t been hard, and yet something was seriously wrong. He lifted his hands to his chin and gasped when he saw the amount of blood covering his fingers. He looked back up at the man before falling forwards to his knees and sprawling in slow motion to the gutter.

The last thing he saw was the man’s brown leather shoes as he walked away.

 

2

Bill Featherstone was fed up with his life.

After thirty-five years of marriage, his wife, Marianne, told him she didn’t even like him anymore, and moved out of their family home. Now, less than three weeks later, he found he was poorer than he’d been in his entire fifty-three years on the planet. Not only had she left him, but she’d systematically cleared out their savings in the months leading up to her declaration. Then, she took off with her fancy man.

As a self-employed electrician, Bill needed to take on extra jobs simply to pay the mortgage this month, a mortgage that had steadily increased over the years while he thought it was being paid off. It turned out Marianne had re-mortgaged several times, forging his signature. The crux of it was she’d screwed him, big time.

Zooming into the retirement village at just after 4pm for his fifteenth job of the day, he almost mowed down a bent up old man on a Zimmer frame. He was crossing the road as though he had all the time in the world.

Bill slammed on the brakes and wound his window down. “Get out of the way, you idiot. You’re gonna cause a fucking accident.”

The old man carried on, completely unaware of him.

Bill slammed the heel of his palm on the horn which made no difference to the situation, but brought plenty of nosy old codgers out from their bungalows.

Once the man had climbed up onto the curb, Bill zoomed off and parked his van a few hundred meters away. Then, he grabbed his toolbox and rushed to the address.

“Mrs Jones?” he asked the pleasant-faced lady who answered his urgent door rapping. She reminded him of his grandmother.

“Have you come to fix my oven?”

“I certainly have, love. Can you quickly tell me what keeps happening?”

“The problem began a few weeks ago when my niece and her boyfriend came for a visit. I wanted to make them some scones—they love my scones—I won awards for them back in my younger day...”

“That’s all very lovely,” he interrupted, “but can you get on with it. I’m a busy man.”

“Oh.”

The stupid old woman seemed shocked and although he felt a little awful, he knew what these old people could be like. She’d probably drip feed him her life story before getting down to the problem in hand.

“The fuse keeps tripping when I turn on my oven.”

“Okay, lead the way.”

In less than a minute he located the fault. “Bloody hell,” he barked.

“What’s wrong?” Her trembling voice irritated him.

“Basic common sense, love. Look at this? Tell me what you see?”

She began trembling so badly she appeared to be shaking her head at him. “I-I don’t see anything.”

“This!” He jabbed at a piece of foil lying in the bottom of the immaculate oven. “Would you shove a knife in the toaster?”

“No, of course not.” She gripped the work surface as though to steady herself.

“Then why shove a load of foil into the bottom of the oven? It’s touching an element and shorting out.”

“I’m sorry. I only had gas in my last house. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“Well you know what thought did, don’t you?”

“Is there a problem, Gloria?” An equally doddery old man appeared in the doorway.

“No. It’s my fault, Eddie. Go back through to the lounge and I’ll make another pot of tea.”

The man eyeballed Bill before stroking the woman’s arm. “Don’t worry, love. I told Sandy I’d take him for a game of dominoes. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Positive.”

Bill ripped the foil out and tested the element before turning the oven on.

The woman returned from seeing her friend out. “Is it okay now?”

“Should be. When does the fault happen? As soon as you switch it on or after a few minutes?”

“Pretty much right away.”

“Well it seems to be working alright now. I’ll leave the oven running while I pack up my van and fetch my invoice book.”

Out at the van, he shoved his tool box into the back and sat just inside, his right foot resting against the open door. He looked up, startled when a shadow fell over him.

“What the—?” Bill wasn’t able to say anything else. A searing pain that began under his chin, exploded in the back of his head.

Then nothing.