Flutter by Olivia Evans – Blog Tour, Giveaway, and Excerpt

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Dylan Walker has spent six years trying to move on from the loss of his girlfriend, Presley Cooper. Motivated by grief and the desire to do for others what he couldn’t do for her, he burns the candle at both ends to make it through medical school. After graduation he moves west, putting as much distance as possible between his past and his present.

Or so he thought.

Unknowingly, Dylan has been set on a path that will destroy everything he thought he knew. All the pain, all the grief, was all for nothing. With the help of an unexpected ally, Dylan must find the answers and save the girl he loves before it’s too late.

Deceit.

Betrayal.

Revenge.

A second chance at love.

But first, he must find a way to make her remember her past. Remember him. Remember everything.

“You know, Dylan, there are many hospitals you could work at in New York. If I didn’t believe your moving to California with all those hippies was the best thing for you, I might beg you to stay.”

An unexpected laugh bubbled from his chest as he shook his head. His grandmother put up a good front about being accepting of different cultures and lifestyles, but try as she might, she was blue-blooded through and through. Growing up in one of the wealthiest families in New York had a way of doing that to a person. He had been like that once, before he lost her. The familiar hollowness that always came with her memory began to swell. He couldn’t deal with that right now.

“You’re the one who suggested I interview at Grace Hospital in the first place. If it weren’t for you, I never would have considered moving to California. Also,” Dylan exhaled. “I need a change, Grandmother. There are too many memories here. Too many ghosts.” When he noticed her frown, he looked away and pushed his messy dark blond hair out of his eyes. He needed a haircut. It was one of many things he’d neglected recently.

“I know you loved her, Dylan. I loved her too, but it’s been six years. It’s time to accept what happened and move forward.”

“Two,” he corrected, trying not to flinch. Her words felt like a physical blow. “Until two years ago, I still had hope that one day…” Dylan pulled in a deep breath and pushed his memories into the darkest corner of his mind. “That’s why I’m moving to California. Going to college at Penn State, staying close to home, those were things we were supposed to do together. I’ve lived the life we planned without her. I thought it would get better, but it hasn’t. I need to go where everything I see doesn’t remind me of her.”

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Olivia Evans is a dreamer by day, writer by night. She’s obsessed with music and loves discovering new bands. Traveling the world and watching the sun set in every time zone sounds like heaven to her. A true Gemini, she follows her heart blindly and lives life to the fullest with her husband, son, and friends. Her other loves are: Chuck Taylors, Doc Martens, concert tees, gangster movies, sports, wine, craft beer and her shih tzu’s.

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Flutter by Olivia Evans – Release Day & Giveaway

#AuthorOliviaEvansFlutter is LIVE!!!
Available NOW on

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA

 

Dylan Walker has spent six years trying to move on from the loss of his girlfriend, Presley Cooper. Motivated by grief and the desire to do for others what he couldn’t do for her, he burns the candle at both ends to make it through medical school. After graduation he moves west, putting as much distance as possible between his past and his present.

Or so he thought.

Unknowingly, Dylan has been set on a path that will destroy everything he thought he knew. All the pain, all the grief, was all for nothing. With the help of an unexpected ally, Dylan must find the answers and save the girl he loves before it’s too late.

Deceit.

Betrayal.

Revenge.

A second chance at love.

But first, he must find a way to make her remember her past. Remember him. Remember everything.

Dylan stood in front of his bathroom sink, a towel wrapped around his waist as he wiped the fog from the mirror. He studied his face, the lines that creased the skin around his blue-gray eyes and the shadows underneath that never seemed to fade. His eyes dropped lower, and his hand lifted of its own accord to trace the wing of the butterfly tattooed over his heart. The red ink curved and twisted to form a beautiful wing on one side, while the other was nothing but sharp, broken lines, the decayed black wing dripping with ink. It was the perfect tribute to Presley. She used to say he made her flutter. He regretted never telling her she did the same to him. When she left, she took that feeling with her.

Add it to your Goodreads TBR HERE
Listen to the Spotify Playlist HERE

 



Olivia Evans is a dreamer by day, writer by night. She’s obsessed with music and loves discovering new bands. Traveling the world and watching the sun set in every time zone sounds like heaven to her. A true Gemini, she follows her heart blindly and lives life to the fullest with her husband, son, and friends. Her other loves are: Chuck Taylors, Doc Martens, concert tees, gangster movies, sports, wine, craft beer and her shih tzu’s.

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Olivia Evans FLUTTER Release Giveaway

Uncomplicated Choices by Cara Dee – Release Day and Excerpt

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Uncomplicated Choices by Cara Dee

“Choosing you would complicate everything, yet it’s the most uncomplicated choice I’ve ever made.”

Father and Daughter Playing Together at the Beach at Sunset. Hap

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When life gave you lemons, you learned who stayed and made lemonade with you. Or something to that effect. And the day Ellis Hayes kidnapped me—or, borrowed a yacht and didn’t know I was on board—he’d definitely been handed too many lemons.

We faced a dilemma when I woke up hungover in the middle of the ocean. He needed to get the hell out of town to do some soul-searching and decide whether or not to divorce his wife, and I needed to get back on land because humans didn’t belong on the water. There was also better cell service on land, and I had my four-year-old daughter on vacation in Paris to check in with.

Then I remembered I wasn’t a complete tool. Ellis wasn’t doing all right, and we were practically family. I had to stay and make lemonade with him. Of course, me being me, seemingly undateable and complicated, I had to develop feelings for him, too.

 

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Excerpt 1:

It looked like I was gonna poke him with some flirting, after all, because when he had one foot in the tender and the other on the yacht, I couldn’t resist.

“Has anyone ever told you how delicious you look with your legs spread?”

He grabbed the cooler from me. “No, you’d be the first. Thank you for being gentle.”

Sad day for me; he’d figured out my game and didn’t let it ruffle his feathers this time. On the other hand, now I could add witty to the list. I loved witty comebacks.

“In fact…” He pointed at a duffel on the platform, which I handed over. “I barely felt anything.”

“What the—” I stared at him, incredulous. Did he really go there? Oh, he did. That sexy, sly son of a bitch. “You actually… Wow.”

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Excerpt 2:

As I checked the time on my phone, I thought I could text Ellis, but a message from Marilyn popped up right then and there.

Hello, Casey. I have some pressing matters I’d like to discuss with you in regards to Ellis’s and my son. Rather, your involvement. Do you mind if I come over after work?

I rubbed my forehead, the unease spreading through me like wildfire. This is it. Things were going too fucking smoothly, and now…now, fuck.

Swallowing the rising anxiety, I fired off a quick reply.

Yeah, sure. I’ll be at home.

And Ellis wouldn’t be. He was in and out of meetings all day and would be home late. I should call him, though. Unless he already knew she was coming? No, he would’ve given me a heads up.

Drumming out the jitters was an impossible feat now, so I turned to Beyoncé. When life gave you lemons, she knew a thing or two about lemonade.

I was going to need vodka with mine.

Cara Bio Photo

About the Author:

I’m often stoically silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex. There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly. Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve. Additionally, I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I’m a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and cupcakes, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

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Sugar & Gold by Emma Scott – Blog Tour, Excerpt, & Giveaway

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Sugar & Gold by Emma Scott

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“I loved you before. I will love you forever.”

Nikolai Alexei Young was born with a special gift…one he’d do anything to lose. The heart and soul of every person he comes into contact with is an open book to his heightened senses. Colorful emotions, whispers of thoughts, the sour tastes of old memories…He feels them all. The sci-fi books would call him an empath. For Nikolai, his ability has made him an exile. He roams the U.S. alone, avoiding the glut of life in big cities, and using his innate talents to win money in underground poker games. Just enough to keep going, one town to the next. He has no hope that his life can be anything else, until he meets her…

At nineteen, Fiona Starling was trapped in an ugly, desperate situation until she freed herself the only way she knew how. Now three years later, living outside Savannah, Georgia, she is rebuilding her life on her own terms; seizing every moment and saving every penny so that she might fulfill her dream of moving to the raw wilderness of Costa Rica. But behind her carefree smile beats the heart of a lonely young woman haunted by her past, until a chance encounter with a tattooed stranger changes everything…

Fiona takes Nikolai under her roof for three sultry nights, waiting out the rain of a summer storm. She grows more and more fascinated by this brooding stranger with whom she shares an intense physical connection—a connection so strong, she wonders if there is something between them beyond lust and passion. Nikolai is shocked to discover that Fiona calms the raging turmoil in his heart. She alone silences the din of other people’s lives, and envelops him in the sweet beauty of her inner self.

Every moment he’s with her—every touch of her skin—brings him closer to the peace that’s been eluding him his entire life.

But Fiona harbors secrets that she is too terrified to reveal. After Nikolai confesses his unique ability, she is caught between wanting to believe him and fearing he’ll eventually unearth her own dark past. When the unthinkable happens, Fiona’s plans come crashing down, and Nikolai discovers his hated ability might be the only thing that can save the woman he loves.

Sugar & Gold is a new adult romance with shades of the paranormal and is the second book in the Dreamcatcher novels, a series of interconnected STANDALONES.

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Excerpt:

She breathed a genuine laugh and held my gaze. Everything about her was pink; her drink, her hair, the bright halo of glimmering dust that surrounded her.

Kindness, compassion, charity. Those were the feelings I associated with pink.

I hadn’t seen it this strong in anyone in a long time.

Fiona clinked her glass to my bottle. “Thanks for taking care of my over-eager dance partner, Nik. And for the drink.”

“Sure.”

She sipped her Cosmo. “Not much of a talker, are you?” Her eyes were impossibly bright, her smile showing a broad mouth and full lips.

“Club’s not a great place for talk,” I said.

“True,” she said, “but here we are.”

Here we are…

A short silence fell.

“Nik,” Fiona mused. “Nik, Nik,” she said again, in a light, sing-song manner. “Short for Nicholas?”

“Nikolai,” I said.

“Oh, I like that.” Her colors warmed and sweetened, like an invitation, drawing me closer. “Are you Russian? You don’t have an accent.”

“My mother is.”

“Do you speak it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I picked some up.”

She scooted closer on her seat. “Say something in Russian.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not picky. I can’t speak a word so anything is going to sound good.”

I thought for a second and then spoke aloud the only thought I had in my head.

“Ti samaya krasivaya devushka na svete.”

Fiona’s smile widened and the bright wisps of her happiness wrapped around me. I wanted to take in more of it. Which made no sense at all. With other women, their scents were so often cloying and unwanted like the air wasn’t mine to breathe.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Get a grip.

I sucked down a long swig of beer. Fiona watched me, her eyebrows raised, then she laughed. “Um, Nik? You realize you’re supposed to tell me what you said, right?”

I shrugged and my lips twitched. “Don’t remember.”

Fiona laughed again. “Liar.”

We both took a sip from our drinks and let a little silence fall between us. A nice silence.

“That was lovely, your Russian,” Fiona said eventually. “Whatever you said, it sounded…sexy.”

My gaze swung to her eyes. “Yeah?”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. I was going to say something harmless like ‘unique’ or ‘exotic’, but I’d rather be honest with you, Nikolai. I don’t like playing games.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t like it at all.”

I sensed a shadow starting to creep over her. Something old and full of pain. Driving it away suddenly became my only goddamn purpose in life.

“I guess you’re not going to like me much then,” I said. “I play games constantly. Every day.”

A smile crept over her lips. “Is that so?”

“Sure,” I said. “Omaha, Texas Hold’em, stud, draw, lowball, high-low split…”

She laughed, flaring pink again, and the shadow around her retreated. “A joke and a smile too. I was beginning to wonder if you ever smiled.”

I shrugged. “It happens.”

“And those games, they’re all poker, right? You play poker every day?”

“Not every day. Most days.”

“For a living?”

“No, I’m a…” I coughed. “I’m a salesman. Motorcycle parts. I travel a lot for the job, and finding poker games in each city is sort of my hobby.”

My standard lie, though I hated laying it on her. I knew plenty of grinders who lived off their poker winnings, but that was for the love of the game. I played because thanks to the ken it was easy to win, and I’d never cared that it was cheating. It was the only way to put my strange ability to use that I knew of, and it allowed me to give a big fuck you to the universe for cursing me with it in the first place.

But lying to Fiona felt dirty. Even when haunted by bad memories she was luminous, while I was tatted and stained, as if the ink on my hands would bleed out and onto the white of her dress if I touched her.

She cocked her head at me, wearing a perplexed little smile. “You don’t look like a salesman.” Her eyes drifted over my tattooed arms and neck, to the talons piercing my ears. “When I think of ‘traveling salesman’ I picture a middle-aged guy in a suit with a suitcase full of encyclopedias.”

“No suitcase,” I said. “Catalogues and order forms.”

“And you travel a lot?”

“Almost non-stop.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“You do something long enough, you get used to it.”

“I know what you mean,” Fiona said, a tinge of darkness around her words—that shadow started to creep back until she buried it. “But the poker makes it fun?”

“Breaks up the monotony of the road.”

“Do you make a lot of money?” she said, then laughed, beautiful in her self-consciousness. “Sorry, I’m not asking for your bank balance, I just meant, are you any good at it?”

“I’m really fucking good at it,” I said.

Her eyebrows shot up and she nudged my arm with a laugh. “If you don’t say so yourself.”

“Maybe I feel like being honest with you too.” I could feel where she touched me, a tingling heat that was slow to fade.

“I like that.” She swirled her cherry around in her drink by its stem. “So are you in town, selling motorcycle parts, for very long?”

“Couple of days.”

“I hope the storm doesn’t put a damper on your business.”

“It won’t.”

“You’re lucky. At my job, we’ve been given the next few days off.”

“You sound bummed about that.”

“Every penny counts.” She met my eye. “I’m moving out of the country very soon and want to save up.”

I took a sip of my beer. I’d known Fiona for five minutes, but the idea of her moving any further away than her seat at the bar filled me with inexplicable dread.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

But it wasn’t what was wrong with me, anymore. It was what was right. The girl exuded a calm that danced along my skin, and when I inhaled, it was like breathing in the scent of something delicious but far away. The thrumming life all around me grew quiet. For the first time, I felt close to peace, and I wanted more.

If I touched her…

“Nikolai?” Her blush matched the color of her drink. She rested her chin in her hand. “Not to sound cheesy but you’re undressing me with your eyes.”

I felt heat creep along my neck and a bumbling apology rose to my mouth. Instead, I held her gaze, leaned closer to her. “You want to know what I said to you in Russian?”

Her eyes were bright and I could feel her draw closer to me. “Yes. Tell me.”

“I said that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

The deep pink of her darkened to red. Not the ugly red of hate or anger, but the heated red of intense want. Hers matched mine. I wanted that strange sense of peace she exuded, but I wanted to touch her too. To take her hard and lose myself in her completely.

Fiona held my gaze. “I don’t think that’s true, but the way you look at me…I can almost believe it. Like how you watched me on the dance floor. I liked you watching me, Nikolai. It was as if I could feel your eyes on me before I found you.”

You found me…

Author Bio:Emma Scott Photo

Emma Scott writes romances with flawed characters, characters with artistic hearts:
builders, poets, and writers of various makes and models. And love always wins.
Always.

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