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Friday, July 17, 2015

Cover Reveal: DESPERATE CHANCES by A. Meredith Walters!


We are very excited to bring to you the final book in the Bad Rep Series Desperate Chances releasing on September 14, 2015. 






Sex changes everything.

And love can turn into an enemy…

Mitch Abrams, the bassist for the popular rock band Generation Rejects, has been in love with Gracie Cook for years. But Gracie, a complicated girl with a lot of baggage, was too blind to see how she felt about the man who had always stood by her.

Until one night of passion brought them closer than they had ever been before.

Feeling off balance and out of control, Gracie does the only thing a girl with self-destructive tendencies can do: end things with Mitch before they can really begin.

So Mitch moves on. With his band, his friends, and a new girlfriend.

Yet he can’t seem to forget about the girl who threw his heart away.

Gracie, who is still struggling to build a life after crashing to the bottom, finds it hard to forget about her one night with Mitch. And even as she tries to convince herself it was only sex, her heart knows differently.

But life is full of chances and desperate moments. And when Mitch and Gracie are thrown back into each other’s lives, will they seize at the opportunity to do things right?

Or will the rock star and the less than ordinary girl crash and burn?










The New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Contemporary and Paranormal romance including The Find You in the Dark and Bad Rep series as well as the upcoming stand alone romance, Reclaiming the Sand, and a dark new adult series for Gallery Books.

A. Meredith spent ten years as a counselor for at risk teens and children. First working at a Domestic Violence/Sexual Assault program and then later a program for children with severe emotional and mental health issues. Her former clients and their stories continue to influence every aspect of her writing.

When not writing (or being tortured with all manner of beauty products at the hand of her very imaginative and extremely girly daughter), she is eating chocolate, watching reality television that could rot your brain and reading a smutty novel or two.

A. Meredith is represented by Michelle Johnson with the Inklings Literary Agency.


Thursday, July 16, 2015

Interview!: Three authors of CORVIDAE answer questions about their new release

Please welcome three of the authors of the newly released "CORVIDAE" anthology! Mike Allen, Michael M. Rader, and Megan Engelhardt are answering a few questions to celebrate their new release.

Author Name: Michael M. Rader
Website Address: www.michaelmrader.com
Social Media Links:
Twitter: @michaelmrader

What is it about corvids that inspired you to write about them?
I read a lot about animal behavior, and I’m particularly interested in animals that use tools and exhibit higher intelligence like mirror self-recognition. Naturally, most of these animals are great apes, but there are two fascinating outliers: cephalopods and corvidae. Cephalopods have giant brains, so that’s maybe less surprising. However, the phrase “bird brain” exists for a reason. Birds have physically small brains, and anyone who has spent a lot of time with your average bird is not going to be terribly impressed with their intelligence. Except for corvidae. Ravens can use tools, Eurasian Magpies can recognize themselves in mirrors (the only non-mammal capable of doing that), and crows can recognize faces and communicate descriptions. No other family of bird can do that. They’re not just weirdos in the animal kingdom, they’re weirdos in their own class. I guess I just have a soft spot for that.

Was there one corvid characteristic you wanted to highlight more than others?
Definitely the concept of the corvidae family’s higher intelligence, and also how some members of their family (blue jays) aren’t quite as impressive. 

Do you think you were successful?
I set out to tell a story about intelligence, how it differs from sense, and how just being in the right bird family (or academic setting) doesn’t make you intelligent, practical, sensical or sane. I believe the characters in my story, and the corvidae they study, really highlight that characteristic.

If you were a corvid, what would you build your nest out of?
Memory foam for comfort, pages from Discworld novels for entertainment and strips of political manifestos just to be edgy.

What’s your favourite ‘shiny’ thing?
 Love? No, that’s far too sappy. I’ll go with bits of broken glass instead.

Author Name: Mike Allen
Social Media Links:

What is it about corvids that inspired you to write about them?
In this case a little bird approached me, heh, heh, and asked me to consider creating a corvid story that didn't involve crows, ravens or magpies. I was intrigued with the idea of writing about a bluejay, because I have a thing for blue, and the more I read about these birds, the more inspiration I found. I had already written two short stories ("The Hiker's Tale," "Follow the Wounded One," published) and a whole novel (unpublished) that take place in a world where certain special people have spirit animal forms possessed of immense power. I didn't start out intending to set "The Cruelest Team Will Win" in that universe, but the elements just snapped into place unbidden.

Was there one corvid characteristic you wanted to highlight more than others?
In the case of the bluejay, the ability the bird has to smash open acorns with a single peck of its beak.

If you were a corvid, what would you build your nest out of?
The scalps of my enemies.

What’s your favourite ‘shiny’ thing?
For me, there's nothing shinier than a wickedly good story.

Author Name: Megan Engelhardt
Website Address: megengelhardt.wordpress.com
Social Media Links:
Twitter: @MadMerryMeg

What is it about corvids that inspired you to write about them?
They're so smart -- almost creepily so.

Was there one corvid characteristic you wanted to highlight more than others?
That intelligence, and their adaptability, as well. Corvids are birds that get the job done, whatever the job happens to be.

If you were a corvid, what would you build your nest out of?
Judging from my kitchen junk drawer, my nest would be built of bits of ribbon, slips of paper inscribed with things that I'm supposed to remember, Sharpie pens and small toys I've taken away from my children.

Happy Reading!

~!~ Amanda, Novel Addiction ~!~

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Author interview and GIVEAWAY!: SISTERS OF TREASON by Elizabeth Fremantle!

Super exciting news, I got to interview the author of "Sisters of Treason," the second book in the highly praised Tudor Trilogy by Elizabeth Fremantle! And to sweeten the deal, there is a copy of "Sisters of Treason" up for grabs to one lucky winner! U.S. only - official rules and entry form below.
******GIVEAWAY IS CLOSED******
But first up, the interview..
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1.    Your novel is set in Tudor England - could you have survived the life at Court?

I doubt it. It was a truly awful place. If you were out of favour it was grim, If you were in favour you were desperate to hang on to it and if you climbed too high the Tower was a virtual inevitability. The stakes were so high – that’s what makes it a great setting for fiction.

2.    If you could make everyone read one novel, which would it be? (And sure, you can pick your own book, or throw something wild out there!)

Once I’d encouraged everyone to read all my novels, and  I’d recommend my favorite novel, Beware of Pity by Stephan Zweig.

3.    When writing, are you the organized type (example: you write for a certain amount of time each day and then move on), or do you get sucked into the book and can’t tell what day or time it is?

I am very disciplined as a matter of fact. I work to a minimum word count of 1,000 words a day, but it’s usually more like 1,500. Once I’ve walked my dogs first thing, I sit at my desk and get my admin out of the way, then I write until I’ve achieved what I need to. That can sometimes take a few hours and occasionally much, much longer. If I’m not writing I’m researching, which might mean spending time in the library, or visiting museums and historic sites. I’m very strict about my routine as I find I can’t produce good work if it’s disrupted.

4.    Are you a ketchup or a mustard person?

Neither actually but if you forced me I’d choose ketchup. I loathe mustard!

  1. Is there anything you would like to say to your readers and fans?


Read more; read things you might not normally choose, you will never regret it – promise!

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A huge thanks to Elizabeth Fremantle for taking the time to answer my questions. And now, on to the giveaway!

Rules and Guidelines
~ There will be ONE winner.
~ Open to U.S. only!
~ Contest ends 7/24/15 at 11:59 p.m.
~ You must be at least 13 years old to enter.
~ Novel Addiction is not responsible for items lost in the mail.

GIVEAWAY IS CLOSED. THANKS FOR VISITING!


Happy Reading!
~!~ Amanda, Novel Addiction ~!~

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Release Day Launch: Kendall Ryan's SINFULLY MINE!





She was forbidden.
I didn’t care.

As my best friend’s little sister, Macey Hale was off-limits, but the girl was tempting as sin and forbidden as fuck. I wish I could say that stopped me. I wish I could tell you I behaved like a gentleman.

I didn’t.

When she waltzes back into my life with that same spark I fell for, looking every bit the beautiful woman I knew she’d grow into, I have to force myself to remember I’m different from the man she once knew. I’m colder. Harder. And for good reason.

With my heart on lockdown and my hands aching to touch her, I set out to prove that I can keep myself in check this time.



No strings. No attachments.

And definitely no falling for her again.

If you love steamy romance, you won't want to miss this older brother's best friend romance.

This is book two in the Lessons with the Dom series, following The Gentleman Mentor. Both are complete standalone novels featuring sexy Dominant men you're sure to fall in love with. Enjoy!




AMAZON US  AMAZON UK   iBooks  Barnes & Noble















Kendall Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance novels, including Hard to Love, Unravel Me, Resisting Her and When I Break.

She's a sassy, yet polite Midwestern girl with a deep love of books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss. She lives in Minneapolis with her adorable husband and two baby sons, and enjoys hiking, being active, and reading.
Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com  for the latest book news, and fun extras














Monday, July 13, 2015

Excerpt!: THE FELIX CHRONICLES: FRESHMAN by R.T. Lowe!

Hello all! Please help me welcome author R.T. Lowe, who has provided an amazing excerpt of his novel "The Felix Chronicles: Freshman" - click the title to go straight to Goodreads to add it to your TBR piles! Below you will find an excerpt, and at the bottom, there is a link to Amazon so you can snag a copy of your own. Read on and enjoy!
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Chapter 18
The Ghost and St. Rose

 The glowing red digits on Felix’s clock informed him that it was 3:15. Lucas’s desk lamp was making an island of light in the darkened room. He didn’t remember turning it on. He rubbed his eyes, then looked over at Lucas’s bed. Still unmade. But no Lucas. He lay there for a while trying to go back to sleep, but it was an exercise in absurdity. He was wide awake, uncomfortable (he was still wearing his clothes from the day before), and feeling terrible. He’d let the sadness go too far and it had carried him away. Now it was like a physical sickness; it was sticking to him, coating him. If he didn’t get it off, it would burn right through his skin and eat at him for days.
His spine popped like dominos when he stood up and stretched. He threw on a hooded sweatshirt and a baseball hat and slipped out of the dorm, emerging into a cool misty drizzle. There wouldn’t be another warm day until May—just another thing to be depressed about. No one was hanging out in the Freshman Yard except for a clutch of kids smoking cigarettes under a tree on the north end by Satler, where it looked like the party was still raging. Music was pouring out through open windows on the top two floors. He thought his friends must still be there, and wondered if they were having fun. Of course they were having fun. Why wouldn’t they be?
I should’ve gone to the party, he thought miserably, giving himself a swift mental kick to the ass. Now he was missing out on a good time and he still wouldn’t get any sleep before the game. Instead, he was about to wander the campus like a loser when he could be…what? Hooking up with Harper? Not likely. But he felt like he had a shot. Of course he had no shot at all if he didn’t try. He was telling himself that he wasn’t at the party because of Coach Bowman’s dumb rules. But the rules were just that: dumb. He could get around them; Bowman didn’t have a spy network reporting back to him on rule-breakers. So did that mean he wasn’t trying? But why wouldn’t he try? He wanted to hook up with Harper. Desperately. Thinking about ravaging her perfect body occupied almost as much time as football practice; it was how he made it through his classes when he grew bored or couldn’t focus. But if they did hook up—big if—it wouldn’t end there. She would want to get to know him. Of course. And it wouldn’t take long—maybe five minutes—for Harper to realize he was a total wreck. And once she discovered that she would reject him. Just like Emma had rejected him. He couldn’t handle that. Despite how much he liked her. Not even Harper was worth that risk.
With a very melancholy soundtrack playing in his head, he dug his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt and headed toward The Yard. He turned and walked backward for a spell, letting his feet feel their way along the cobblestones in the soft glow of the pathlights. From a distance, Downey looked peaceful—the rooms were dark, the blinds drawn—a tomb compared to Satler. Everyone in Downey was asleep . . . or getting lucky. But not Felix. Luck had a strong aversion to him.
He passed by the first few lecture halls on the north side of The Yard without seeing a soul. There was nothing but empty paths and lawns drifted with wet heavy leaves. Alone with his thoughts, he began thinking about the guy he’d caught staring up at his room. The guy. It didn’t have to be a guy, of course. Girls could be stalkers too. Either way, he couldn’t understand why anyone would wait out in the rain just to catch a glimpse of Lucas with his shirt off. So what if he was on TV. What was the point? He just didn’t get it.
Voices off to his right made him jump. His eyes flitted up to a sheltering overhang at the entrance of the Culver building where he found the culprits: two kids making out. Felix wasn’t alone after all. He watched them for a moment and a puddle of cold water that submerged his sneaker right up to the shoelaces was the reward for his voyeurism.
The Yard looked as desolate as a stretch of farmland. Dew frosted the grass, sparkling beneath the haze. He drew in a deep breath as he rolled the kinks from his neck. He liked the way everything smelled. It was as if the trees and plants were giving off some wonderful floral scent in appreciation of the long drink the elements had bestowed on them. The cold was depressing, though he didn’t mind the rain. When you grow up in a town where it’s sloppy wet 250 days a year you have one choice: get used to it.
He wasn’t sure where he was going. But that was the plan. He didn’t care where he ended up. The night air felt good; it was already having a soothing effect. He passed another shadowed lecture hall and found a path that wound its way north as it hugged a dense thicket of sculpted shrubs. It split into two paths to accommodate a specimen tree of some sort, then reconnected on the other side at the edge of an English garden tucked in behind the building. He’d never been this way before. He didn’t stop to admire the plantings, though he was sure they were quite lovely. Horticulture wasn’t his thing. The mist was thickening, creating a haloing effect with the pathlights. Just past the garden, he came to a clearing where five trees were standing guard like monstrous sentinels—the Star Trees. The towering goliaths formed the shape of a five-pointed star, each tree acting as a point. He’d heard some kids talking about it at the dorm, but he didn’t know where it was. Until now.
As he neared the southernmost tree, he stopped to have a look around. He tilted his head back, trying to see the tops, but swirling curtains of fog covered them up. The rain lightly spritzed his face like a spray bottle set to mist. It was refreshing. Coming outside had turned out to be a good idea; it was just what he needed. He looked back down and started toward the—
A woman, her back turned to him, stood in the center of the clearing. The sight of her startled him, freezing him in place for a moment. He was sure she wasn’t there just a second ago. He kept his eyes on her as he reached out for the tree next to him, feeling the rough bark brush across his fingertips as he slid slowly past it. Her clothes were really odd; it looked like she’d gotten lost on her way home from a costume party—Cinderella came to mind. She was wearing a flowing blue dress that bunched up on the ground all around her. The dress was sleeveless, and her arms, so pale that they shone, hung loosely at her sides. Her hair was dark and long—he couldn’t tell if it was brown or black—and it cascaded in lustrous gentle curls to her narrow waist.
“Hey,” Felix called out, approaching the woman. “What are you doing out here?” The rain stopped all at once. Of their own accord, his eyes flicked up to the enormous branches of the Star Trees which all met in the center of the clearing, forming a canopy that kept everything beneath them comfortably dry.
She cocked her head and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her cheek and the visible part of her jaw were so white it looked like she was wearing stage makeup. If it wasn’t 3:30 in the morning, he would have thought she was about to perform at the school theater.
“Hey,” he said again. She was close now, no more than ten feet away. Her arms were disturbingly pale, and he wondered if she was standing next to a light he couldn’t see. Something had to be making her appear this way. Or was something wrong with her? Was she sick?
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded twice, stiffly.
“Are you hurt?” He took another step. He was close enough to smell her perfume if she was wearing any—she wasn’t. Another step. If he reached out he could touch her.
She shook her head. Her shimmering hair—it was dark, but not quite black—swayed elegantly over her shoulders and across her back. His eyes followed the contours of her slender arms down to her fingers, long and delicate, ending in fingernails that were flawless, and somewhat pointy. Her fingers were white. Too white. Bone white. Vampire! he thought suddenly, his heart lurching to his throat. An icy fear swept over him as he looked up, expecting to see the face of a monster.
But the person in front of him didn’t have fangs. And she wasn’t a monster. Far from it. The beautiful woman before him was staring at him, the traces of an inscrutable smile hovering at the edges of her red lips. Her green eyes blazed like smoldering emeralds, roaming over his face, measuring him. She looked older than the girls on campus, but not that much older, and it was hard for Felix to gauge her exact age because his brain had shifted into panic mode like the time he went camping in the fourth grade and discovered he was sharing his sleeping bag with a garter snake.
And then—without warning—she turned and ran.

Felix felt his feet lift off the ground and take flight after her.

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Happy Reading!

~!~ Amanda, Novel Addiction ~!~