Blast ~ CALL ME, MAYBE by Ellie Cahill

Call Me, Maybe
By: Ellie Cahill
Releasing February 9, 2016
“Ellie Cahill is definitely one to watch!” raves bestselling author Cora Carmack, and this steamy, upbeat modern romance about connecting in all the best ways proves it once again.

Clementine Daly knows she’s the black sheep. Her wealthy, powerful family has watched her very closely since she almost got caught in an embarrassing scandal a few years ago. So when Clementine’s sent on a mission to live up to the Daly name, politely declining isn’t an option. Of course, the last thing she does before boarding the plane is to grab a stranger’s phone by mistake—leaving the hunky journalist with herphone. Soon his sexy voice is on the line, but he doesn’t know her real name, or her famous pedigree—which is just the way Clementine likes it.

Despite all the hassles, Justin Mueller is intrigued to realize that the beautiful brown-eyed girl he met at the airport is suddenly at his fingertips. They agree to exchange phones when they’re both back in town, but after a week of flirty texts and wonderfully intimate conversations, Justin doesn’t want to let her go. The only problem? It turns out that Clemetine has been lying to him about, well, everything. Except for the one thing two people can’t fake, the only thing that matters: The heat between them is for real.

“What the hell?”
Honor looked over. “What’s wrong?”
“My phone is going completely nuts. It sent me a whole bunch of text messages from myself. Look at this.” Was it possible to get a virus or a worm on a phone? And when had it happened? I held it out.
Honor squinted at it, then looked up at me, eyes going wide. “Oh shit.”
“That’s not your phone.”
“What!” I pulled the screen back to look at it myself.
Below my number the content of the messages was only partially visible, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.
+1 (847) 555-2015
+1 (847) 555-2015
Oh. Fuck.
I thumbed the lock open and had to search frantically for the messages app. It wasn’t where I kept mine on the screen. When I found it, it had the number 15 in a little red circle. The phone app showed another red circle, this one with the number 6.
Oh double fuck.
I said it out loud. “This is definitely not my phone.”
“I already said that. So whose is it?”
I scrolled through the increasingly frantic messages from my number. Whoever had my phone didn’t give a name.
I tapped into the phone app and selected my number. Tension drew me up high in my seat, stomach flopping like a fish, and all traces of drowsiness gone.
No no no no no no no, this could not be happening to me.
Honor must have grabbed the wrong phone at the airport!
Who the hell had my phone?
God, it could have been anywhere. It could have been on its way to Katmandu by now!
The sound of my own voice startled me. “Hi, you’ve reached Clementine. Please leave a message.”
As the automated voice gave me my options at the end, I realized I had no idea what to say. But it was too late to think about that now. Beep.
“Um, hi. I’m the person who has your phone. I am so sorry. I don’t know how this happened, um . . . I’m, um . . . please call me so we can figure out what to do.”
When I disconnected, I shot Honor a look of death. “You took the wrong phone!”
“It was the only one there!” he protested.
“Obviously not.” My hands curled tight around the strange phone as I fought the urge to punch him in the shoulder.
“I swear to god, Clementine, it was the only one there. You left it plugged in; I grabbed it, end of story.”
“Then how did this happen?”
“How should I know?”
Serena the flight attendant appeared in the aisle looking concerned. “Is everything all right here?”
“Fine,” Honor snapped.
“Don’t be a dick. It’s not her fault.”
“Well, it’s not my fault,” he said.
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t mine!” I said through gritted teeth then looked at Serena. Time to channel my grandmother. I gave her my best Miriam Schulman-Daly patrician smile. “Everything’s fine. Just a little problem with my phone. Thank you.”
The pilot hit the brakes as we arrived at our gate and the plane filled with the metallic chatter of seatbelts releasing. Serena hurried back to the head of the plane and Honor got up quickly, like he was determined to be the first one off. I guessed he was avoiding talking about this any longer on the plane.
Probably for the best. Because I was going to kill him after all.
He seemed determined to stay ahead of me the whole time, using his longer legs to eat up the terminal all the way to the escalators to baggage claim. I was out of breath by the time I got on behind him, but that wasn’t going to stop me. Oh no. The longer I had to think about this, the madder I was getting. I poked my brother in the back of his head.
“I swear to god, Honor, if we weren’t surrounded by witnesses—”
He turned, looking sullen. “It’s possible there were two phones plugged into the outlet, okay?”
“Uh, ya think?”
Just then the phone started vibrating in my hand.
It was a call, and it was coming from my phone.
“Oh god, it’s him—her—whoever.” I didn’t even know since I hadn’t listened to the no doubt angry voicemails. The texts had been enough.
Was I about to get screamed at?
“Answer it!” Honor exploded.
I swiped the phone to life. “H-hello?”
“Hello?” A masculine voice replied and I practically jumped out of my skin. There was a fifty-fifty chance it would be a man answering, genius.
“H-hi,” I stammered. “I’m the idiot who took your phone.” Probably best to approach this humbly.
He sighed, making static in my ear. “Hi there. Thank you for calling.”
“I’m very sorry,” I said.
“Yeah, me, too.” He sounded resigned. “What are we going to do?”
“Um . . .” I had no idea. What were the options, even? Probably the easiest thing to do would be for me to get a new phone, disable mine remotely, and import my number to the new phone, but that would leave this stranger with a dead phone and I’d still have his. Now theoretically, he could do the same but that presumed he could get a new phone where he was. And that he had the cash to do it.
“I could FedEx it to you, I guess,” I offered. My heart quailed at the thought of trusting my precious phone to any kind of delivery service.
“Meanwhile we’re both phoneless while they’re in transit.”
“Right.” I followed Honor to the baggage claim area on autopilot. All my concentration was on the phone.
“And that assumes that they don’t lose our packages.”
“Yeah,” I said, sounding much cooler than I felt. “Not my favorite option . . .”
“Mine either . . .” the voice said softly. “The thought of never seeing my phone again hurts in a way that I’m a little embarrassed to admit.”
I laughed, glad to hear I wasn’t alone. Though probably for way different reasons. “Okay, so what then?”
“Where do you live?”
“Chicago. But I’m in California until Friday.”
“You’re from Chicago?” he asked. “So am I. But I’m in Florida until Friday, too.”
“So, do we wait until we’re both back and trade?”
He made a soft whimpering sound. “I guess we have to.”
“I promise you I’ll guard it with my life until I get back,” I said.
“I’ll take good care of yours, too.”

Ellie Cahill is a freelance writer and also writes books for young adults under the name Liz Czukas. She lives outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with her husband, son, and the world’s loudest cat.

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Release Blast ~ LEAVING YESTERDAY by Zoe Dawson

Leaving Yesterday
Laurel Falls #1
By: Zoe Dawson
Releasing February 9, 2016
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If you love Susan Mallery, Kristan Higgins, or Rachel Gibson, don’t miss the start of this captivating small-town romance series! Laurel Falls, Montana, features spectacular mountain scenery—but it takes a rugged cowboy to convince one woman to slow down and enjoy the view.

Rafferty Hamilton doesn’t plan on putting down roots anytime soon. With her divorce final, the hotel heiress has left Manhattan behind to scout new locations for her family’s chain of resorts. Which is why it’s so frustrating to be stranded in Laurel Falls while a good-looking, slow-talking, Stetson-wearing mechanic takes his sweet time with her overheated coupe.

A decorated vet who paid his dues in Afghanistan, Trace Black can fix anything with an engine and get it revving—even Rafferty’s ridiculous sports car. He’s couldn’t say the same for the knockout driver, who looks like she’s never gripped a gear shaft in her life. Women like Rafferty don’t usually stick around in Laurel Falls, but Trace finds himself showing her everything his hometown has to offer before she cruises on down the road.

As the days pass, Rafferty finds herself charmed by the pace of life and the openhearted warmth of the residents. She’s even tempted to trust again—and it’s all thanks to Trace. He’s not the kind of guy she’s used to falling for, but he just might be the man she needs.

His sister Cadence’s voice carried all the way out to the garage bay where Trace Black was currently installing a new muffler. He rolled himself out from under the car and rose, grabbing a clean rag and wiping his hands. He headed to the ranch house that was to the back and side of Black’s Garage, their family business. Situated on a tree-lined street with other houses, some looking a bit worse for wear and some empty and foreclosed, the worn-clapboard green house with the covered front porch was in pretty good shape. Trace and Reese handled most of the upkeep, the original wood floors and woodwork intact and refinished. The garage in the back filled with car parts and a couple of vintage cars lying unfinished since their father’s death.
Black’s Garage was now really his business, although he supported his sister with the income. Trace liked working with his hands. When he hadn’t been killing insurgents in the desert, he had been fixing the engines of the Humvees his unit traveled in. His skills had kept his platoon mobile, and when they were mobile, they were just a tiny bit safer.
He looked at his watch and was surprised to find how early it still was. He was usually up at six in the morning—old marine habits were hard to break. The military taught him that sleep was optional. But Harley, his younger brother, was restless ever since he got home from the VA hospital, so he’d been up and down throughout the night, giving up on sleep at about four that morning. Trace entered through the back door, where his brother Reese was in the kitchen making his breakfast. He shot his older brother a withering look. “Can’t you—”
Reese held up his hands with a knife slathered in peanut butter in one and a slice of toast in the other. “This involves teenage angst and girly things.”
“Aw, kee-rist, and you’re leaving it to me?”
“I’m in the kitchen.” He managed not to bellow, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can you keep your voice down?” he said when she came into the kitchen still in her PJs. “Harley is probably still sleeping.”
“He’s probably not now,” Reese said, arching a brow at his brother. He was fully shaved and dressed in a blue polo shirt and a pair of jeans, brown-tooled Western boots on his feet. Reese did like his boots fancy. His tall, muscled brother was a veteran firefighter in Kalispell, about thirty minutes away from Laurel Falls, but was currently off shift.
“You, big brother, are being such a big help.” Actually, Reese was a big help. Ever since their flaky mom had left—twice—Trace and Reese had taken responsibility for household chores and their younger brother and sister. That responsibility increased even more once their dad hit the bottle after the loss of his wife. Trace had been ten when his mother left the first time and his dad went after her. She came back, seemed to settle down, got pregnant with Cadie, and then disappeared when Cadie was only two. This time for good. He had no idea where she was.
Reese shrugged.
“What is it, Cadie?” Trace cocked his hip at his sister’s my-teenaged-problem-is-now-your-problem look.
“Have you seen my mango bra and panty set?”
He cut a look to Reese, but he quickly looked down and finished slathering his toast with peanut butter.
Trace rubbed at his tired eyes and ran both hands through his hair. “Why would I know where that is?”
“You did the wash. It was in the last load.” She shot at him like an accusation. Like a mango bra and panty set could be stolen and sold on the black unmentionables market.
He tried to remember the wash and the clothes that were part of the loads he’d done, but it all blurred together. “Does it have black lace on it?”
“No,” she said with a long-suffering teenaged sigh. “That is my orange set.”
“Wait. What is the difference between mango and orange?” he said, winning him another contemptuous look.
“Well, for one thing they’re different fruits,” Reese piped up.
Trace gave his brother his best sergeant-I’m-going-to-kick-your-ass glare, but Reese just smirked.
“Trace, really. Mango is much lighter than orange,” Cadie said as if he were the village idiot.
“Yeah, Trace, any moron would know that.” Reese nudged him as he walked past toward the counter and settled on one of the stools.
“Shut up,” Trace said, giving his brother a nudge back, then turning his attention back to Cadie. “Can’t you wear some other . . . ah . . . set?”
Her chin lifted and her eyes squinted. “No. I can’t,” she said, placing her hands on the counter. “I have cheerleader practice and I can’t wear a different set.”
Somehow that was supposed to make sense to him.
“Cadie.” He stepped to the island, his lips pinching together. He set his hands down on the counter, too, his fingers tapping. Speaking through his clenched teeth, he said, “You are going to be late for school.” He gestured with his thumb. “Now, get your butt in your room and get dressed.”
Cadie’s face set into a determined mask. She marched up to Trace and thrust out her chin. “It’s the only bra I have that holds—”
“For the love of God, do not finish that sentence. My ears will bleed.” He walked away, his shoulders hunched, cringing.

Zoe Dawson had always dreamed of becoming a full-time romance writer, and with determination, persistence, and a little luck that wish came true. Her other passions include traveling the world, owning a beach house (she believes she was a mermaid in another life), and seeing her books in movies. When she’s not writing, she’s painting or killing virtual MMORPG monsters in World of Warcraft. She lives in North Carolina with her two grown children and one small, furry gray cat.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

Tour ~ Review and Giveaway ~ WHEN WE KISS by Darcy Burke

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Denver real estate mogul, Liam Archer, has always been a thrill-seeker, and the loss of his identical twin brother has only intensified his reckless behavior. Sky diving, heli-skiing, motorcycle riding…he’s tried everything once. Except falling in love. Liam doesn’t do relationships, but a no-strings fling with Aubrey Tallinger-the smart, gorgeous lawyer handling his brother’s estate-is totally his speed.

At first, hooking up with Liam whenever he’s in Ribbon Ridge is perfect; but Aubrey fears she could fall hard for the sexy daredevil, if he’d only stop refusing to acknowledge the demons he’s trying to outrun. To protect herself from heartbreak, Aubrey ends their affair. But this time, Liam isn’t leaving town and instead of seduction, he wants to be…friends.

The white hot attraction between them still sizzles but Liam knows that winning Aubrey back won’t happen in his bed. He’ll have to convince her that he’s more than the careless, adrenaline junkie she believes him to be. Because when they kiss, Liam feels whole again… and he isn’t ready to give her up without a fight.

260 Pgs. |Heat: 3 |
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If you have been following my blog, you would know that Darcy Burke's Ribbon Ridge series is one of my all time favorite.  I jumped at the chance to be part of this book tour. If you aren't familiar with Darcy writing, she writes historical romance and contemporary romance. No matter what genre you read of hers, she locks in you within the first few pages.
I love the storyline of this series, a family tragedy brings a family together. As you read each, and I do recommend you read the series in order, each sibling is spotlight. When We Kiss, is Liam's story.  He has a heartbreaker storyline, he is a identical twin to the brother, Alex, that has died. Every time he looks in the mirror he is constantly reminded of his missing link. So he banishes himself from the family. His brother was the weakest of the family, he lived precariously through Liam's adventures.  But family duty calls and he returns for his siblings weddings. When Liam comes to town he "hooks up" ( I don't like that saying, but it really did explain it well) Aubrey the family attorney. She is the one who assisted  Alex when he needed to finalize his affairs, but she is also helping the family with a lawsuit.  Aubrey wants more than the occasional visits, she is looking for a HEA. There is a lot going on in this book, but not to the point that you are confused. Liam loves pushing the limit, he is a adrenaline junkie, but will he push himself over the edge.
I love that we get to revisit with all the characters and see how their life has blossomed. It looks like the only one that has a story to tell will be Hayden.  There's been some hints on lost love, but I am anxious to see the story Darcy has yet to tell.  I recommend the entire series.  Fall in love with the Archer family, I know I did.

Darcy Burke is the USA Today bestselling author of hot, action-packed historical and sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Darcy wrote her first book at age 11, a happily-ever-after about a swan addicted to magic and the female swan who loved him, with exceedingly poor illustrations.

A native Oregonian, Darcy lives on the edge of wine country with her guitar-strumming husband, their two hilarious kids-who each seem to have inherited the writing gene in some form-and two Bengal cats. In her "spare" time Darcy is a serial volunteer enrolled in a 12-step program where one learns to say "no," but she keeps having to start over. Her happy places are Disneyland and Labor Day weekend at the Gorge.

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