Black Ties and White Lies PROMO

Black Ties and White Lies

By

Ila Rose

Happiness is such a suggestive ideal thing; Thomas Jefferson wasn’t far off in referring to it as a pursuit. It’s something we continuously seek; slippery to hold and lost easily, until we turn our backs on it in disgust and shame Giving up and allowing the darkness to claim our soul as we plummet into despairs fathomless chasm.
The time for Ella to come clean has come, can she overcome her inner demons and confess her sins, and indiscretions. Will she own up to the role she played in causing her daughter’s pain? Ella's story is no longer her own, its Kay’s history; who she is and where she came from and why Ella was so heartbreakingly absent from her life for so many years. Tired of fear and sadness coloring her life and decisions, Ella will tell Kay everything; allowing Kay the freedom to either condemn or exonerate Ella's transgressions.


Excerpts...

My head was filled with visions of my skeleton being found or ghosts chasing me, adding to my mounting anxiety. I stopped and leaned heavily against a wall when I heard muffled footsteps quickly approaching. I froze in panic, rooted into that spot, unable to flee even if I wanted to, as a man came towards me with his head bent over a paper and not paying a bit of attention. He passed the statue that I had become before he registered something odd and retraced his steps to stand in front of me.
“What are you doing down here? This area’s off limits you know. Are you new? You don’t look familiar.”
My voice was on lockdown. I tried over and over to speak but not even a croak came out, even though he sounded more amused than angry. “Look at me when I speak to you, please. It’s ridiculous to try to memorize the thread count of every rug in this house. You’d have to work here several lifetimes over before you could even scratch the surface!” A semi hysterical giggle popped out before I could stop it and my face flamed as I studied the shine of his wing tips. He sighed even as his smile grew while he teased, “Ok, if you won’t obey then I’ll have to speak to father and have you fired.” I finally looked up, missing his mischievous tone and interpreting his humor as mockery.
“Please, sir, don’t do that. I need this job! Mother would kill me if…” Oh God, humiliation burned in my gut.
He grinned as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, “Ah, she speaks.”
My deceitful heart skipped a beat at the sight of the elegantly dressed young man. He towered over me and my five foot three frame. Golden, thick hair made my fingers itch to comb through the waves. His blue eyes were the same color as his father’s but were so warm my nerves almost evaporated. I think I may have swooned over that smile and would probably dream about it that night.
He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen and not much older than me. And I work for him… Oh no, I work for him!
“I’m sorry, sir, this is my first day sir. I seem to be a bit lost.” Oh God, let me die or at least stop my ignorant tongue from flapping! I slammed my eyes back to the floor as I remembered he had asked me to look at him when he spoke. He chuckled at my confusion. His smile melted something deep within me and ignited a fire that I never knew existed.
“My name is Garrett, Garrett Michaelson.” Chewing my lip as I stared at this handsome man in front of me, I weighed my options as I looked into those amazing eyes…to speak or not?
Finally I relented and sighed, “Ella. My name is Ella Rosen.”

***

Ella paced the floor. If anyone had looked into her darkened room, they may mistake her for a ghost. She moved across the floor in a flowing white dressing gown that covered her toes and made it seem as she glided over the boards. Her lips were moving in silent conversation as her fingers twisted together. Her hair was loose and hung in waves and tears fell from her distressed eyes. She hated the night when the shadows were so thick and daylight seemed ages away. It wouldn’t be long before the nights were endless, cold and lonely once again. She crossed to the windows and barely twitched the gauzy curtains as she moved them aside with shaking fingers to check the shadows again.
They called her name softly as they danced in the yard causing her to gasp and step back in fear, resuming her pacing as the fear gnawed her insides. Ella, Ella, come on out and play. Just for a moment, only a moment. The singsong voice crept under the windows and into her brain, refusing to leave her in peace. No! No, you can’t make me come, leave me be! Leave me alone! Please…please, please. Her pleas went ignored as the shadows spoke to her. Lies mingled with truth until they blurred and she couldn’t pick the two a part. Her shaking hands covered her ears as the tears flowed and her fingers tangled into her hair and pulled hard. She wished the pain would be sacrifice enough. Never enough, Ella, it’ll never ever be enough. You know what we want, Ella. Come play with us, it’s quiet here.
Ella moaned; the compulsion to give in to give up was so strong she found her body moving of its own will as hands reached for the bottles on the dresser. No! Leave me! Please, oh please for once go away! No more, no more, no more. The chant went on inside her tumultuous brain as she resumed the pacing and finger twisting. Twisting her fingers was the only way to keep them from spinning the caps from the bottles that promised blissful quiet and shadow free silence. “Kay can’t know, she can never know. She’ll never speak to me again, she’ll make me leave! I need her and I need my grandbabies so fuck off!” She had no clue that the words actually left her lips until she tasted the salty tears that ran into her open mouth.

***

I did have a slight run in with young Mr. Michaelson today. That’s what we have to call him, the young Mr. Michaelson. So pretentious. Anyway I was carrying a basket of Mrs. Michaelson’s delicates down to the laundry when he came down the hall not paying a bit of attention and ran smack into me! I was so…so…pissed! The basket flew from my hands and both of us landed on our butts and, oh dear Lord, his mother’s giant panties went flying in the air! It was like watching a swarm of demented paratroopers falling from the sky. Only there were no men, just very silky, very large panties and giant brassieres everywhere.

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Christmas Star by Christine Ashworth

Blurb and Bio

After a whirlwind courtship and surprise proposal, makeup artist Elle Houston is in a fairytale setting, awaiting her Christmas Eve wedding to a movie star. But when the resort’s chef starts cooking, Elle finds that more than her appetite is being tempted, and she realizes just how wrong fairytales can be…

Bio

Christine Ashworth grew up listening to the sound of her father’s manual typewriter as he wrote and sold over 300 novels. Now, to her delight, she’s the one writing novels. But as her dad is still writing away, she’s got some major catching up to do.

Christine is a romantic from way back, having first picked up Harlequin romances at the age of twelve, then falling in love with bigger books when she swiped her mother’s copy of Rosemary Rogers’ Sweet Savage Love. She’s happily married to an actor/dancer/guitarist/hippy, has two sons, and tends to her garden and her family in southern California. You can read about her cooking, gardening, and wine picks at her website at http://christine-ashworth.com.

Book Links

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Flirting with Love by Melissa Foster & GIVEAWAY

NEW RELEASE........
Book #10 The Bradens, Love in Bloom Series #20

Elisabeth Nash has spent years dreaming of returning to the small town of Trusty, Colorado, where she spent summers with her favorite aunt. When she inherits her aunt’s farmette, she closes her Los Angeles pet bakery and pampering business, sure that life in Trusty will be as peaceful and as welcoming as she remembers. But being an outsider in the close-knit town proves to be very different from the happy summers she remembers from her childhood—and falling for Trusty’s hot, wealthy, and sinfully irresistible veterinarian, Ross Braden, sends the rumor mill into a frenzy.

Ross Braden learned long ago that gossip spreads faster than weeds in his small hometown, and Ross loves nothing more than his privacy. For that reason, he doesn’t date women who live in Trusty. But that was before blond, beautiful, and refreshingly honest Elisabeth Nash flew into his vet clinic seeking help for her panicked piglet and turned his comfortable life—and his heart—inside out.

Despite rumors about Elisabeth’s motives toward her aunt’s property, passion brews between Elisabeth and Ross. Every steamy kiss and every sensual touch brings the pair closer together, and when Ross helps Elisabeth try to fit into the town he adores, it makes their bond even stronger. But even Elisabeth’s efforts toward reaching the community, and the love she and Ross so desperately believe in, might not be enough for the protective small town to offer them a future.

My Review...

Oh, Melissa Foster, you just keep writing more and more stories about my book crushes.   

I love Ross Braden.  He is a dream come true.    The Braden men all have amazing manners and a romantic heart.  If only there were more real men like them (SIGH).

Elisabeth knows what her dreams are and know that she has to follow them.    I cannot imagine moving to a small town where the only person that you really knew has passed away.    That is exactly what Elisabeth does.  She also knows she wants a real relationship, not the fluffy mean nothing relationships that her mother thinks she has had in the past.     Her character was so relatable and lovable that I could not hope that she would get accepted into the town of Trusty and fall in love, like her dreams.

With each story the reader gets to visit her favorite characters and see how their lives are shaping up, while being introduced to new and fun characters.    I love seeing where my last book crush has ended up and meeting my new book crush in each book.   Of course, I recommend this entire series to any romance reader looking for a fun new series to read.

THE BRADEN COUSINS are the newest addition to the LOVE IN BLOOM series, this is the third of six books.
**CONTENT WARNING: Due to mature content, recommended for readers aged 18+**

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About Melissa Foster

Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes contemporary romance, new adult romance, LGBT romance, contemporary women's fiction, romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Some say her romance novels are lovingly erotic, she deems them simply loving and real. Her books have been recommended by USA Today's book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the Women's Nest, a social and support community for women, the World Literary Cafe. When she's not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.

Melissa hosts an annual Aspiring Authors contest for children, she's written for Calgary's Child Magazine and Women Business Owners Magazine, and has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Melissa's interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.

Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on The Women's Nest or her personal website.

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I received this book to review through Beck Valley Books Book Tours, all the opinions above are 100% my own.

ALSO AVAILABLE 

Books 1 - 3 Snow Sisters, Love in Bloom Series #1 - 3

Books 1 - 6 The Bradens, Love in Bloom Series #4 - 9

Books 1 - 5 The Remingtons, Love in Bloom Series #10 - 14 


MORE BRADEN COUSINS COMING SOON......

NOW FOR THE AUTHOR'S GIVEAWAY !!

Five lucky winners will each receive the Game of Love ebook
the 1st book from the Remingtons series !!

Ending on Friday 19th December at 11.59pm EST

Open Worldwide

Enter Below & Good Luck !!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Game by H.J. Bellus

Today is the day!  Chapter 1 of THE GAME.  Find out who the blonde beauty is who gives Levi THE GAME of his life.

Who is ready for THE Game ?  

Who wants to win a $100 Amazon Gift card?

Read the details below and make sure to follow each step for your chance to win!  Winner announced on December 16th.  

HOW TO WIN...

Send a screenshot of your pre-order confirmation of 
THE Game to hjbellus@gmail.com.   

Subject line MUST read  
THE Game  to be eligible.  All entries

without this subject line will be disqualified.  Please make sure to add the photo to the body of the e-mail. Attachments will not be opened. Winner will be chosen on release day, December 16^th at release day party.  Watch for the link to be revealed in the NEAR future. Contest is limited to USA only.

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Is Levi Wilks ready for her? Is he ready for “The Game” of his life? 

Chapter 1

Levi

“Surgery went well, Levi, but it looks like you’ll still be out about two full months. You should be back on the field mid-season. My advice is to rest up and follow your
physical therapy to perfection.”
“Two months?” I question, hoping I heard him wrong.
“Levi, your body can’t take many more hits, and it definitely deserves a full
recovery.”
Trying to sit up in the bed, I begin to argue again. “But football is my…”
“It’s only going to take one wrong hit on your spine, and you’re done. Done, as in the
rest of your career, or finished, as in a wheelchair. Without a full recovery, your chances
of being in a wheelchair the rest of your life is heightened.” Dr. Valentine hesitates a
moment, jotting down some quick notes on a prescription pad, and then continues. “It’s
your choice, Levi. You need to give your body the time it needs to heal. I will be the
only one clearing you to play again.”
The doctor’s words are crystal clear, and I can see none of my razzle dazzle and shit
talking will convince him otherwise. The words finished and done scare the living shit
out of me. They are my worst nightmare and truly haven’t been a reality for me until
now. I feel it every morning when I get out of bed. Muscles, bones, and joints all scream
in protest with every single movement. Just the simple act of tying my shoes has been
painful.
I knew it would be a vicious tackle to take me out, and it was.  In a fucking preseason
game where it’s understood to take it easy on the players, especially the first string.  I
guess karma is a bitch. I saw number eighty-two flying in my direction, but chose to put
all my faith in my linemen to block him or at least hold him off until I released the ball.
There was a wide-open receiver for a gain of about twelve yards, but I wanted the long
bomb for the TD. When I saw my receiver finally open up in the end zone, it was just
about the exact time the defender took me out. Lost the ball, lost the game, and lost my
opportunity to play for two months.
“Want me to contact your father? You’ll need someone around.”
“No, I’m good.”
“Levi, I can’t stress to you how important this recovery is. You’ll need someone
around for physical and mental support. I don’t think any of your blonde bombshells
will be much assistance at all.”
His last words make me laugh because he’s absolutely right. None of my frequent
weekend entertainment is in it for the long haul. They’re all plum satisfied with a
weekend full of hot and heavy sex.
“No, don’t call my dad. I don’t need his judgmental, overbearing ass on me.”
“Well, you’re going to need some type of assistance over the next two months. Who
else is here in Dallas?”
While finally being able to shift my head enough to look out the window, I answer,
“I’ll have my driver pick me up.”
“You’ll need help, Levi.”
“I’ll fucking take care of it.”
Everything inside of me wants to pick up the nearest object and chuck it at the
window or the doctor’s face. Glass breaking or some bones crushing under my hands
would feel brilliant right about now. I have nothing left to live for until I can get back
out on that field.
If I were my brother, Lincoln, I’d have a loving wife and a dog at home to comfort
me while I heal. Instead, I have trophy case after trophy case to console me—oh, and my
three Super Bowl rings. The one thing about the trophies and rings is they are amazing
and life altering to win in the heat of the moment and during the passion of the game,
but the metal grows cold mighty fast, leaving behind rapidly fading memories.
My dad has always groomed me to be a living legend, something to talk about for
years and years. Football was and has been my only option, throwing the pigskin in the
back yard after school and on weekends, attending every single football camp within a
hundred miles of home, and watching tape after tape of game films. I could recite any
playbook when I was six years old. Lincoln, on the other hand, loves football as well,
but played it his way. He did it without dad’s approval. And that’s my biggest regret; I
wish I could’ve been strong like him. Instead, I was molded into my dad’s dream.
Feeling guilty and like a typical ass, I finally let the surgeon know I’ll be okay and
taken care of.
“I’ll call my driver and fly back to Colorado to one of my homes.”
“Who is there to help you?”
“Lincoln and Lynlee.”
“Good, I’ll set up a physical therapist for in home services. We’ll do everything on
our end to get you back out on the green.”
“How many nights do I have to stay here?”
“With how smoothly the surgery went, I’d just like to observe you for the next couple
days. Why don’t you make arrangements to fly out on Thursday?”
“Fine.”
“Do you want to call any family or friends?”
“Nope.”
“Levi, I’d like to help you through this.”
“Then I need more pain meds.”
Moments later a nurse walks in, and I watch as she injects something into the tube of
my IV. She’s quite the hot piece of ass. I’d definitely be tapping that shit all night long.
She even has a sweet smell covering her body that I could easily visualize myself
consuming.
“Levi, this will make you drowsy,” she says, capping the needle.
I can’t seem to pry my eyes from the back of her as she reaches up to dispose of the
needle and syringe in the red container.  A strip of her flesh peeks out between her
scrubs, and this narrow glimpse sets me on fire.  I find my hand willing itself to reach
out and touch her before she turns around.
 “I’ll be your night nurse, so if you need me, push this button. Oh, my name is
Ashley, so just let me know if you need anything, and I do mean anything.” She finishes
off her words with a flirty little wink in my direction.
My insides turn with her looks, scent, and presence. I’d definitely be taking this one
home for a couple nights. Yes, she’d be granted a VIP pass to the Wilks’ Wild Weekend
Express, hosted smack dab in my bed at my mansion in Dallas. My hand finally
responds, stretching out in her direction, and when she places her petite little palm in
mine, I know I have her.
“Ashley, I could do so many things to you. I’d love to see those panties of yours…”
Before I can finish my last word, everything goes black.
***
“Sir, you’re not supposed to walk. I’ll get your wheelchair.”
“Just shut the fuck up and get my bags.”
I let Lincoln know I was coming to stay for the next couple months. For fuck’s sake,
in reality it’s my house. Lincoln and Lynlee have lived here since they married. They
both wanted to stay in Colorado since it was the place they met, and Lynlee wanted to
go to college. Lincoln lucked out and was drafted to Denver.
The assholes have the perfect life just the way they want it. I can’t deny the fact; they
fought tooth and fucking nail to get it. They didn’t pussy out and let someone else call
all their shots, and I, for one, wasn’t going to allow them to live in the home Lincoln and
I were raised in.
Dad and Lincoln have truly worked through most of their shit, and Lincoln still came
out the way he wanted. Played defense, went to the college he wanted, majored in what
he wanted, dated who he desired, and let his middle finger fly to the rest who didn’t
approve. Not me. I’m the oldest, and yearned for approval around every corner, leaving
me with a hollow life.
“Sir, you are not supposed to walk.”
Turning to the naive puke of a driver, I lay into his ass. “Do you fucking realize
you’re talking to? Do you?”
The young douche clams up. The look on his face is almost comical. Even in my
weakest state, I have the power to bring pussies like him to his knees, and I enjoy every
fucking second of it. It might make me an arrogant ass, but being a dick is the only
saving grace I posses.
“And you weren’t supposed to be born, so shut the fuck up, already,” I add to sting
the wound a little more.
I feel muscles rip and tear as I try to peel myself out of the limo. The pain is familiar
and immediately reminds me of my younger days when my dad demanded perfection
from each pass. I now have the same sensation years later trying to simply walk from a
car to the front fucking door of my own home. The pain is so intense I want to ask the
young puke to honk the horn to get Lincoln’s attention to come help me, but then again
it might even be worse to have the brother I envy help me.
I never would’ve thought ten simple steps would be the longest of my ever-loving
life, but I want to be the dick to knock on my own door. I bet Lincoln is about to sit
down and eat dinner with his wife, with his dog lying obediently at his feet. Fuck, I bet
she’s the kind of woman to bake his ass chicken potpie every Thursday night. What a
douche.
Before my hand instinctively turns the doorknob, I decide to ring the doorbell at the
last minute. I chuckle to myself, imagining Lincoln complimenting Lynlee on his dinner
and petting her knee under the table, only to mutter curse words when he hears the
doorbell ring. Lincoln may be a wild spirit, and we might as well have different fathers,
but I can call his next move from a mile away. Some might say we haven’t been brothers
for years, yet I know him better than anyone on this earth, and right now he wants to
knock the lights out on the fucker ringing his doorbell, because he was moments from
taking his wife to bed.
When the door opens, it’s neither Lincoln nor Lynlee looking back at me. To my utter
amazement, my fucking little bro has gone and hired the hottest fucking home nurse. A
blonde bombshell stands before me, and I try hard as I can to keep my jaw from
dropping wide open. Every muscle in my body is aching, yet my cock has no problem
springing to action for the juicy blonde. It’s obvious my home nurse hasn’t had the
chance to change into her naughty little nurse outfit.
“Well, are you going to invite me in, Nurse Nancy?”
“Excuse me?”
Talking slowly and deliberately, I say, “Are. You. Going. To. Invite. Me. In?”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she asks, and the rush of her hot breath
brushes my lips.
The smell is so sweet and tender it makes my cock bulge even further. I know one
thing for sure; this nurse will be checking my blood pressure topless tonight.
“Levi,” comes a familiar voice, Lincoln. “You’re supposed to be in a wheelchair.
What the fuck you doing walking already, bro?”
“Well, if Nurse Nancy here could help a fellow out...”
Not only do I say it, I also gesture with my hand, grabbing myself.
Another voice joins the mixture, and it’s Lynlee’s this time. “Levi, you made it.”
When her gaze hits mine, I see the same concern as in my brother’s eyes. They know
I should be sitting and not standing. They know the consequences all too well.
Without allowing her to respond, I relieve their stress. “Well, if Nurse Nancy would
move her ass, I could get up into my bed and get down to business. I knew Valentine
was setting up in home therapy, but not an in home nurse.”
Grabbing the inside of the doorjamb, I force myself up into my house, and looking
around the place, I really like what they’ve done with it. Looks like a home, the perfect
loving home complete with two dogs to kick.
The big tittied blonde looks mystified and almost a little horrified with my arrival.
Doesn’t the bitch realize this is, in fact, my house? Or maybe she has no idea a three-
time world champion just graced her with his presence.
“Weren’t expecting your patient to arrive so early or what?” I finally ask, breaking
the silence.
“I’m not a nurse.”
Losing my patience with this stuck up bitch, I demand, “Then who the fuck are you?”
The bitch really has some balls, as I watch her step up into my face, pinning me down
with her best death stare.
“Stop,” Lynlee yells and pushes her way in between us. “Levi, this is my best friend,
Jazzy. She’s staying here with us.”

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