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Chapter Reveal: Almost Impossible by Nicole Williams






June 19th 2018















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Fans of Sarah Dessen, Stephanie Perkins, and Jenny Han will delight as the fireworks spark and the secrets fly in this delicious summer romance from a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author.

When Jade decided to spend the summer with her aunt in California, she thought she knew what she was getting into. But nothing could have prepared her for Quentin. Jade hasn't been in suburbia long and even she knows her annoying (and annoyingly cute) next-door neighbor spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

And when Quentin learns Jade plans to spend her first American summer hiding out reading books, he refuses to be ignored. Sneaking out, staying up, and even a midnight swim, Quentin is determined to give Jade days--and nights--worth remembering.

But despite their storybook-perfect romance, every time Jade moves closer, Quentin pulls away. And when rumors of a jilted ex-girlfriend come to light, Jade knows Quentin is hiding a secret--and she's determined to find out what it is.







Anything was possible. At least that’s what it felt like.
Summer seventeen was going to be one for the record books. I already knew it. I could feel it—from the nervous-excited swirl in my stomach to the buzz in the air around me. This was going to be the summer—my summer.
“Last chance to cry uncle or forever hold your peace,” Mom sang beside me in the backseat of the cab we’d caught at the airport. Her hand managed to tighten around mine even more, cutting off the last bit of my circulation. If there
was any left.
I tried to look the precise amount of unsure before answering. “So long, last chance,” I said, waving out the window.
Mom sighed, squeezing my hand harder still. It was starting to go numb now. Summer seventeen might find me one hand short if Mom didn’t ease up on the death grip.
She and her band, the Shrinking Violets, were going to be touring internationally after finally hitting it big, but she was moping because this was the first summer we wouldn't be together. Actually, it would be the first time we’d been apart ever.
I’d sold her on the idea of me staying in the States with her sister and family by going on about how badly I wanted to experience one summer as a normal, everyday American teenager before graduating from high school. One chance to
see what it was like to stay in the same place, with the same people, before I left for college. One last chance to see what life as an American teen was really like.
She bought it . . . eventually.
She’d have her bandmates and tens of thousands of adoring fans to keep her company—she could do without me for a couple of months. I hoped.
It had always been just Mom and me from day one. She had me when she was young—like young young—and even though her boyfriend pretty much bailed before the line turned pink, she’d done just fine on her own.
We’d both kind of grown up together, and I knew she’d missed out on a lot by raising me. I wanted this to be a summer for the record books for her, too. One she could really live up, not having to worry about taking care of her teenage
daughter. Plus, I wanted to give her a chance to experience what life without me would be like. Soon I’d be off to college somewhere, and I figured easing her into the empty-nester phase was a better approach than going cold turkey.
“You packed sunscreen, right?” Mom’s bracelets jingled as she leaned to look out her window, staring at the bright blue sky like it was suspect.
“SPF seventy for hot days, fifty for warm days, and thirty for overcast ones.” I toed the trusty duffel resting at my feet.It had traveled the globe with me for the past decade and had the wear to prove it.
“That’s my fair-skinned girl.” When Mom looked over at me, the crease between her eyebrows carved deeper with worry.
“You might want to check into SPF yourself. You’re not going to be in your mid thirties forever, you know?”
Mom groaned. “Don’t remind me. But I’m already beyond SPF’s help at this point. Unless it can help fix a saggy butt and crow’s-feet.” She pinched invisible wrinkles and wiggled her butt against the seat.
It was my turn to groan. It was annoying enough that people mistook us for sisters all the time, but it was worse that she could (and did) wear the same jeans as me. There should be some rule that moms aren’t allowed to takes clothes from the closets of their teenage daughters.
When the cab turned down Providence Avenue, I felt a sudden streak of panic. Not for myself, but for my mom.
Could she survive a summer when I wasn’t at her side, reminding her when the cell phone bill was due or updating her calendar so she knew where to be and when to be there? Would she be okay without me reminding her that fruits and vegetables were part of the food pyramid for a reason and
making sure everything was all set backstage?
“Hey.” Mom gave me a look, her eyes suggesting she could read my thoughts. “I’ll be okay. I’m a strong, empowered thirty-four-year-old woman.”
“Cell phone charger.” I yanked the one dangling from her oversized, metal-studded purse, which I’d wrapped in hot pink tape so it stood out. “I’ve packed you two extras to get you through the summer. When you get down to your last
one, make sure to pick up two more so you’re covered—”
“Jade, please,” she interrupted. “I’ve only lost a few. It’s not like I’ve misplaced . . .”
“Thirty-two phone chargers in the past five years?” When she opened her mouth to protest, I added, “I’ve got the receipts to prove it, too.”
Her mouth clamped closed as the cab rolled up to my aunt’s house.
“What am I going to do without you?” Mom swallowed, dropping her big black retro sunglasses over her eyes to hide the tears starting to form, to my surprise.
I was better at keeping my emotions hidden, so I didn’t dig around in my purse for sunglasses. “Um, I don’t know? Maybe rock a sold-out international tour? Six continents in three months? Fifty concerts in ninety days? That kind of
thing?”
Mom started to smile. She loved music—writing it, listening to it, playing it—and was a true musician. She hadn’t gotten into it to become famous or make the Top 40 or anything like that; she’d done it because it was who she was. She was the same person playing to a dozen people in a crowded café as she was now, the lead singer of one of the biggest bands in the world playing to an arena of thousands.
“Sounds pretty killer. All of those countries. All of that adventure.” Mom’s hand was on the door handle, but it looked more like she was trying to keep the taxi door closed than to open it. “Sure you don’t want to be a part of it?”
I smiled thinly back at my mom, her wild brown hair spilling over giant glasses. She had this boundless sense of adventure—always had and always would—so it was hard for her to comprehend how her own offspring could feel any different.
“Promise to call me every day and send me pictures?” I said, feeling the driver lingering outside my door with luggage in hand. This was it. Mom exhaled, lifting her pinkie toward me. “Promise.”
I curled my pinkie around hers and forced a smile. “Love
you, Mom.”
Her finger wound around mine as tightly as she had clenched my other hand on the ride here. “Love you no matter what.” Then she shoved her door open and crawled out, but not before I noticed one tiny tear escape her sunglasses.
By the time I’d stepped out of the cab, all signs of that tear or any others were gone. Mom did tears as often as she wrote moving love songs. In other words, never.
As she dug around in her purse for her wallet to pay the driver, I took a minute to inspect the house in front of me.
The last time we’d been here was for Thanksgiving three years ago. Or was it four? I couldn’t remember, but it was long enough to have forgotten how bright white my aunt and uncle’s house was, how the windows glowed from being so
clean and the landscaping looked almost fake it was so well kept.
It was pretty much the total opposite of the tour buses and extended-stay hotels I’d spent most of my life in. My mother, Meg Abbott, did not do tidy.
“Back zipper pocket,” I said as she struggled to find the money in her wallet.
“Aha,” she announced, freeing a few bills to hand to the driver, whose patience was wilting. After taking her luggage, she shouldered up beside me.
“So the neat-freak thing gets worse with time.” Mom gaped at the walkway leading up to the cobalt-blue front door, where a Davenport nameplate sparkled in the sunlight.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say most of the surfaces I’d eaten off of weren’t as clean as the stretch of concrete in front of me.
“Mom . . . ,” I warned, when she shuddered after she roamed to inspect the window boxes bursting with scarlet geraniums.
“I’m not being mean,” she replied as we started down the walkway. “I’m appreciating my sister’s and my differences.
That’s all.”
Right then, the front door whisked open and my aunt seemed to float from it, a measured smile in place, not a single hair out of place.
“Appreciating our differences,” Mom muttered under her breath as we moved closer.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing as the two sisters embraced.
Mom had long dark hair and fell just under the average-height bar like me. Aunt Julie, conversely, had light hair she kept swishing above her shoulders, and she was tall and thin. Her eyes were almost as light blue as mine, compared to Mom’s, which were almost as dark as her hair. It wasn’t only their physical differences that set them apart; it was everything. From the way they dressed Mom in some shade of dark, whereas the darkest color I’d ever seen Aunt Julie wear was periwinkle—to their taste in food, Mom was on the spicy end of the spectrum and Aunt Julie was on the mild.
Mom stared at Aunt Julie.
Aunt Julie stared back at Mom.
This went on for twenty-one seconds. I counted. The last stare-down four years ago had gone forty-nine. So this was progress.
Finally, Aunt Julie folded her hands together, her rounded nails shining from a fresh manicure. “Hello, Jade. Hello, Megan.”
Mom’s back went ramrod straight when Aunt Julie referred to her by her given name. Aunt Julie was eight years older but acted more like her mother than her sister.
“How’s it hangin’, Jules?”
Aunt Julie’s lips pursed hearing her little sister’s nickname for her. Then she stepped back and motioned inside. “Well?”
That was my cue to pick up my luggage and follow after Mom, who was tromping up the front steps. “Are we done already? Really?” she asked, nudging Aunt Julie as she passed.
“I’m taking the higher road,” Aunt Julie replied.
“What you call taking the higher road I call getting soft in your old age.” Mom hustled through the door after that, like she was afraid Aunt Julie would kick her butt or something.
The image of Aunt Julie kicking anything made me giggle to myself.
“Jade.” Aunt Julie’s smile was of the real variety this time as she took my duffel from me. “You were a girl the last time we saw you, and look at you now. All grown up.”
“Hey, Aunt Julie. Thanks again for letting me spend the summer with you guys,” I said, pausing beside her, not sure whether to hug her or keep moving. A moment of awkwardness passed before she made the decision for me by reaching out and patting my back. I continued on after that.
Aunt Julie wasn’t cold or removed; she just showed her affection differently. But I knew she cared about me and my mom. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t pick up the phone on the first ring whenever we did call every few months. She also wouldn’t have immediately said yes when Mom asked her a few months ago if I could spend the summer here.
“Let me show you to your room.” She pulled the door shut behind her and led us through the living room. “Paul and I had the guest room redone to make it more fitting for a teenage girl.”
“Instead of an eighty-year-old nun who had a thing for quilts and angel figurines?” Mom said, biting at her chipped black nail polish.
“I wouldn’t expect someone whose idea of a feng shui living space is kicking the dirty clothes under their bed to appreciate my sense of style,” Aunt Julie fired back, like she’d been anticipating Mom’s dig.
I cut in before they could get into it. “You didn’t have to do that, Aunt Julie. The guest room exactly the way it was would have been great.”
“Speaking of the saint also known as my brother-in-law, where is Paul?” Mom spun around, moving down the hall backward.
“At work.” Aunt Julie stopped outside of a room. “He wanted to be here, but his job’s been crazy lately.”
Aunt Julie snatched the porcelain angel Mom had picked up from the hall table. She carefully returned it to the exact same spot, adjusting it a hair after a moment’s consideration.
“Where are the twins?” I asked, scanning the hallway for Hannah and Hailey. The last time I’d seen them, they were in preschool but acted like they were in grad school or something. They were nice kids, just kind of freakishly well
behaved and brainy.
“At Chinese camp,” Aunt Julie answered.
“Getting to eat dim sum and make paper dragons?” Mom asked, sounding almost surprised.
Aunt Julie sighed. “Learning the Chinese language.” Aunt Julie opened a door and motioned me inside. I’d barely set one foot into the room before my eyes almost crossed from what I found.
Holy pink.
Hot pink, light pink, glittery pink, Pepto-Bismol pink—every shade, texture, and variety of pink seemed to be represented inside this square of space.
“What do you think?” Aunt Julie gushed, moving up
beside me with a giant smile.
“I love it,” I said, working up a smile. “It’s great. So great.
And so . . . pink.”
“I know, right?” Aunt Julie practically squealed. I didn’t know she was capable of anything close to that high-pitched.
“We hired a designer and everything. I told her you were a girly seventeen-year-old and let her do the rest.”
Glancing over at the full-length mirror framed in, you bet, fuchsia rhinestones, I wondered what about me led my aunt to classify me as “girly.” I shopped at vintage thrift stores, lived in faded denim and colors found in nature, not ones manufactured in the land of Oz. I was wearing sneakers, cut-offs, and a flowy olive-colored blouse, pretty much the other end of the spectrum. The last girly thing I’d done was wear makeup on Halloween. I was a zombie.
Beside me, Mom was gaping at the room like she’d walked in on a crime scene. A gruesome crime scene.
“What the . . . pink?” she edited after I dug an elbow
into her.
“You shouldn’t have.” I smiled at Aunt Julie when she turned toward me, still beaming.
“Yeah, Jules. You really shouldn’t have.” Mom shook her head, flinching when she noticed the furry pink stool tucked beneath the vanity that was resting beneath a huge cotton-candy-pink chandelier.
“It’s the first real bedroom this girl’s ever had. Of course I should have. I couldn’t not.” Aunt Julie moved toward the bed, fixing the smallest fold in the comforter.
“Jade’s had plenty of bedrooms.” Mom nudged me, glancing at the window. She was giving me an out. She had no idea how much more it would take than a horrendously pink room for me to want to take it.
“Oh, please. Harry Potter had a more suitable bedroom in that closet under the stairs than Jade’s ever had. You can’t consider something that either rolls down a highway or is bolted to a hotel floor an appropriate room for a young

woman.” Aunt Julie wasn’t in dig mode; she was in honest mode.
That put Mom in unleash-the-beast mode.
Her face flashed red, but before she could spew whatever
comeback she had stewing inside, I cut in front of her. “Aunt Julie, would you mind if Mom and I had a few minutes alone?
You know, to say good-bye and everything?”
As infrequently as we visited the house on Providence Avenue, I fell into my role of referee like it was second nature.
“Of course not. We’ll have lots of time to catch up.” Aunt Julie gave me another pat on the shoulder as she headed for the door. “We’ll have all summer.” She’d just disappeared when her head popped back in the doorway. “Meg, can I get you anything to drink before you have to dash?”
“Whiskey,” Mom answered intently.
Aunt Julie chuckled like she’d made a joke, continuing down the hall.
I dropped my duffel on the pink zebra-striped throw rug.
“Mom—”
“You grew up seeing the world. Experiencing things most people will never get to in their whole lives.” Her voice was getting louder with every word. “You’ve got a million times the perspective of kids your age. A billion times more compassion and an understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Who is she to make me out to be some inadequate parent when all she cares about is raising obedient, genius robots? She doesn’t know what it was like for me. How hard it was.”
“Mom,” I repeated, dropping my hands onto her shoulders as I looked her in the eye. “You did great.”
It took a minute for the red to fade from her face, then another for her posture to relax. “You’re great. I just tried not to get in the way too much and screw all that greatness up.”
“And if you must know, I’d take any of the hundreds of rooms we’ve shared over this pinktastrophe.” So it was kind of a lie, the littlest of ones. Sure, pink was on my offensive list, but the room was clean and had a door, and I would get to stay in the same place at least for the next few months. After living out of suitcases and overnight bags for most of my life, I was looking forward to discovering what drawer-and-closet living was like.
Mom threw her arms around me, pulling me in for one of those final-feeling hugs. Except this time, it kind of wasa final one. Realizing that made me feel like someone had stuffed a tennis ball down my throat.
“I love you no matter what,” she whispered into my ear again, the same words she’d sang, said, or on occasion shouted at me. Mom never just said I love you. She had something
against those three words on their own. They were too open,
too loosely defined, too easy to take back when something
went wrong.
I love you no matter what had always been her way of telling me she loved me forever and for always. Unconditionally. She said that, before me, she’d never felt that type of love for anyone. What I’d picked up along the way on my own
was that I was the only one she felt loved her back in the
same way.
Squeezing my arms around my mom a little harder, I returned her final kind of hug. “I love you no matter what, too.”








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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.



Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.








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Audio Tour and Review: Thirty Day Boyfriend by Whitney G

Thirty Day Boyfriend

by Whitney G.  
Publication Date: November 2, 2017  
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance 
Narrated by: Erin Mallon and Zachary Webber
Length: 2 hours and 40 minutes
I should've never agreed to this arrangement... Thirty days ago, my boss--Mr. Wolf of Wall Street, came to me with an offer I couldn't refuse: Sign my name on the dotted line and pretend to be his fiancée for one month. If I agreed, he would let me out of my employment contract with a "very generous" severance package. The rules were pretty simple: No intimate kissing, no actual sex. Just pretend to love each other for the press, even though I've secretly wanted to knock that sexy smirk off his face since the first day we met. I definitely didn't need to think twice about this. I signed my name and started counting down the seconds to when I would never have to deal with his special brand of ass-holery again. I only made it to one minute... We argued the entire four-hour flight to his hometown, failed to make a convincing impression with the welcoming press, and right when I was about to knock that arrogant look off his face in real life? He purposely dropped his bath towel in front of me, distracting me with his nine-inch cock to "show me who the bigger person was" in our relationship. Then he gave me his trademark smirk once again and asked if I wanted to consummate our marriage. Tragically, this is only day one. We still have 29 more days to go...

About Whitney G.

Whitney G. is a twenty-eight-year-old optimist who is obsessed with travel, tea, and great coffee. She’s also a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of several contemporary novels, and the cofounder of The Indie Tea–an inspirational blog for indie romance authors. When she’s not chatting with readers on her Facebook Page, you can find her on her website at http://www.whitneygbooks.com or on instagram: @whitneyg.author. (If she’s not in either of those places, she’s probably locked away working on another crazy story.) Don’t forget to sign up for Whitney’s monthly newsletter here: http://bit.ly/1p9fEYF

                                              Review

 This was a short but sweet listen. I must say at the beginning I really didn't care for Nick but he really grew on me with how he cared for Emily. I loved Emily. She was strong and independent. She could objectively see that Nick was attractive but she didn't want to mix her work and personal lives. Not to mention she as totally oblivious to how he really felt about her. I really loved the scene where Nick recalled when he knew he was in love with Emily and when Emily stood up for Nick. And I loved the ending when she finally opened her presents. That was sweet and unexpected. I kind of wish this was a bit longer because I really liked this couple together. 4 Stars for the story.

Narration

You can never go wrong with Erin Mallon and Zachary Webber narrating a book. I really liked this combo for the narration. I felt they worked well for the characters in this story. Nothing more I can say because you know these two give quality narration. 5 stars 
 

Release Blitz: Without Promises by Delancey Stewart

       
WITHOUT PROMISES (Under the Pier Book 2)
by Delancey Stewart
Release Date: May 21st
Genre: Contemporary Romance
     
                     
NOW AVAILABLE!!
                   
BLURB
Trent McNeil was a classic trust-fund kid until he watched a team of firefighters save his family home. From that moment on, he rebelled against the path his parents were determined to keep him on. Now a San Diego firefighter, he knows he'll eventually be expected to take over the family empire. But until that day, his only plan is to have fun and enjoy life.
After a childhood of upset and uncertainty, Amy Hodge is going to make something out of herself. She has her future all planned out. She's starting medical school and is going to be busy...far too busy for a relationship. But she does have time for a quick fling before she buckles down and concentrates on her studies.
Amy quickly realizes that playboy Trent is not all he seems to be. Never relinquishing control and sticking to her plans has done well for Amy, but no one has ever made her want to throw caution to the wind like this sexy firefighter.
Each book in the Under the Pier series is STANDALONE:
* Without Words
* Without Promises
           
EXCERPT
A sexy smile slid across his face as he looked at me, maybe picturing me with jet-black hair, and then his eyes dropped to my lips, causing a little jolt of energy to dance in my stomach. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I licked my bottom lip, and his eyes widened slightly.
What the hell was that? Now he thinks I’m trying to seduce him or something. God, I’m terrible at this. This. This is why I don’t date.
I stiffened, but Trent’s smile didn’t fade. He was still watching me, and his hand found mine where our thighs touched beneath the edge of the bar. His strong fingers wrapped around mine, and I felt my breath catch at the contact.
“Can I kiss you, Amy?” His voice was sandpaper.
Oh my God. Say yes.
I nodded, and he gently wrapped his other hand around the back of my neck and pulled me toward him, his mouth lingering just centimeters from mine. I closed the distance, curious to feel his mouth on mine, to taste those perfect laughing lips, to press myself into this easygoing playboy and absorb a bit of his light.
Trent’s lips met mine softly, and they stayed pressed gently there for a beat, and then he moved, slanting his mouth against mine, pressure building. We were facing each other fully now, and I let go of his hand and slid my palms up his arms, lingering on those swollen biceps. Trent rose to stand between my knees where I perched on the high stool, deepening the kiss. For what felt like long moments, I was lost in the push and pull. It was like being taken out by a wave, giving myself to the undertow and letting go, being sucked under into sweet, cool, dark water.
When he broke the kiss and pulled back to look at me, a wide smile spread across his face.
“Exactly what I expected,” he murmured. “Fucking perfect.”
                   
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“I'm not big on labels, but there are a few that fit me (not necessarily in this order. Or maybe in this order):
- wine drinker (and wine geek)
- mother of small boys
- military spouse
- writer
- chocolate eater
- ice cream addict
I write about emotional connection and intimacy, and love giving readers smart, sexy books to curl up with.”
**********
Delancey Stewart is an award-winning author who writes romantic fiction with humor and heart.
Stewart has lived on both coasts, in big cities and small towns. She's been a pharmaceutical rep, a personal trainer and a wineseller.
A wife and the mother of two small boys, her current job titles include pirate captain, monster hunter, Lego assembler and story reader. She tackles all these efforts at her current home outside Washington D.C.
           
CONNECT W/ DELANCEY
Twitter: @DelanceyStewart
              

REVIEW

I didn’t think I would like Trent but I did. He was a little bit of a womanizer but he was very respectful. I liked that when he first saw Amy he thought she was way out his league which was a new perspective for a hero to have to me. I liked Amy too. She was attracted to Trent but she wasn’t all over him. It was a very realistic attraction which I liked. Amy was intent on keeping it casual with Trent but I felt their relationship was anything but that. They went on dates and were very couply(I know I made that up) but I mean they didn’t even get intimate until a few weeks of being together. I liked that their relationship progressed that way.

I loved that Trent really grew up. He liked to think he was independent by working as a firefighter while his parents wanted him to be in the family business but he was still very much tied to his family financially. I liked how he dealt with all of his family issues including his mother and relying on his family so much. I think Trent was scared of failure which is why he didn’t want to be in the family business. Amy had a few issues stemming from a bad childhood but she really needed Trent to help her let loose a little. This book was low drama except for Trent’s family but it worked for me. Overall I did like this book. The ending was a bit of a surprise to me after all that had happened but it worked.

Release Blitz: Beautiful by Sylvia Hubbard

Title: Beautiful
Author: Sylvia Hubbard
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:
There was absolutely nothing Madison wanted more than to be savored, enjoyed, and loved for every inch of her true self—inside and outside. Hungry with an insatiable desire for passion and the ability to give herself fully to another, she discovers a handsome stranger, who can fulfill her every wish and she is willing to do anything possible to gain his adoration, but there’s a catch.
As the two grow closer together she discovers hidden jewels and hellish facets to herself and life that she never experienced before. Highly intelligent though lacking confidence, Madison’s pain is deeply experienced and brought to the surface as this stranger discovers the entirety of her—insecurities and all.
Yet just as her dreams are finally beginning to come true, someone steals her life’s research? Was it her best friend? Her father? The assistant? Or the stranger she thought she could trust? Will she survive this deception or lose herself and everything she has worked for?
Detroit native, Sylvia Hubbard, a single mother of three, has worked tirelessly to promote and encourage emerging writers in Michigan. She independently published her first romance novel in 2000 and has continued to write in that genre, sometimes venturing into other subgenres. Always urban and contemporary styled, her writing is enjoyed all over the world. She has published 6 paperbacks and over 30 e-books.
The same year she published, Ms Hubbard also created Motown Writers Network to fill the lack of education and networking for Michigan authors online and offline. By 2004, she was frustrated that all the literary conferences had moved too far away from the city and co-created The Essence of Motown Literary Jam Conference held only in the City of Detroit annually.
In addition to romance writing, Hubbard has been featured at various conferences and workshops all over the United States and Canada, where she has taught authors how to sell their books on the Internet. She also published Internet Marketing for Writers & Businesses as a resource for those unable to attend her workshops. In the upcoming year, she will be featured in several anthologies and plans to publish additional e-books.
"I'm no superwoman," she states with a smile that seems infinite on her lips. "I'm just being an asset in the world instead of a liability."
Considered an addicted blogger by HoneyTechblog.com, nominated and recognized for her literary work in the Metro Detroit area, referred to as "A Literary Diva" by Detroit City Council and donned "Cliffhanger Queen" by her readers, she finds solace in speaking and educating on a variety of topics.
Her subjects range from Creative Intimacy, Single Parenting, Blogging, E-Books, Publishing (all aspects i.e.: writing, publishing, marketing & promoting online & offline), and personal triumphs with inspiration mixed in.
Never a disappointment, Sylvia Hubbard, has spoken in front of thousands all over the United States and Canada. Check out her website at SylviaHubbard.com.
Author Links:
Buy Links: Amazon: https://amzn.to/2L11hU4

Entangled Mother's Day Sale: 5/4/18 - 5/13/18



Mother's Day is coming up soon and we're celebrating by putting on sale 7 romances featuring amazing moms.

So pick up all 7 steals for just 99¢ each!


About the book


An island vacation at a 5-star resort for her brother's wedding should have been relaxing. But for single mom Lena Oserkowski, it's stress-inducing. As long as she stays away from the water, her biggest fear, it'll be okay, right? Except when her son gets into trouble at the pool, Lena ends up needing her own rescue. To her surprise—and mortification—a gorgeous stranger comes to her aid. Suddenly her trip just got a whole lot more interesting. 

Elliot Debusshere is disillusioned with his wealthy playboy lifestyle and wants nothing more than to bring some meaning and purpose to the charity he runs. When he saves a quirky, beautiful woman from a case of heat exhaustion and meets her son, Tyler, he has no idea the answer to his problems might have just fallen in his lap. Literally. But pleasure has a sneaky way of mixing with their business, leaving both dazed and confused. Elliot isn't father material—except the longer he spends with Lena and Tyler, the more he wants to be. Now he just needs to prove it.

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About the book

Single mom Daisy Sorensen doesn’t believe in fairytale endings—at least not for her. All she wants is to enjoy a much-needed, stress-free family vacation at a friend’s Lake Tahoe home. So of course everything that can go wrong does. Including a gorgeous man and his daughter showing up in the middle of the night.

Soon-to-be Governor Jack Harrison has had a crazy week, but he’s sure nothing can top arriving to find a bathrobe-clad, beautiful stranger in the home he’s staying in for the week. He’s wrong. When things spiral out of control the next morning, Jack makes Daisy an offer she can’t refuse. She’ll pretend to be his fiancée and he’ll help her open the bakery she’s been dreaming about.

But in between late-night campfires and days on the lake, Jake finds himself falling for the strong, stubborn woman for real.

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About the book


Former surgeon and self-professed life-long bachelor Evan Manning has one thing on his mind—to reclaim the career that a car accident stole from him. But when he’s forced to return to his hometown of Red River, Evan comes face-to-face with the gorgeous woman who’s haunted his dreams for the last year—the woman he rescued from the burning car that injured his hand. Now Evan needs her help. In a month, he’ll have the job opportunity of a lifetime…he just needs a wife to get it.

Artist Grace Matheson is down on her luck again…until she walks into Evan Manning’s office. When her sexy former hero hears that she needs work, he offers her a job and a home—if she’ll pretend she’s his fiancée. Grace knows she shouldn’t fall for him. Once the month is up, Evan will be back to his old life. But the more time they spend together, the more real their feelings become—and the more likely heartbreak is.

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About the book

Sam Kercher is every inch a wickedly hot Marine. Tall. Sexy. Lethal. When his best friends call in a favor, Sam is forced to face an entirely new line of duty—playing nanny for their newly divorced sister and her squirming seven-month-old twin boys. If Sam can dissemble an M16 in his sleep, diaper duty should be a cakewalk…right?

Unfortunately, Operation Nanny isn’t quite that simple. Sheridan has sworn off overbearing military men, so Sam must protect her from her dirtbag ex without revealing just how much he has in common with her brothers. Or that he’s been ordered not to touch her. Ever. Problem is, Sheri’s one hell of a gorgeous woman, and Sam wants her bad.

Protect the girl. Care for the babies. Hide his identity. And keep his hands off. But even the most disciplined Marine has weaknesses…and Sheridan is one Sam might not be able to resist.

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About the book

With her son’s life in the balance, Catherine Fry is forced to locate and steal the priceless Ruby Cross of the Knights Templar. She knows who has it–it’s just a matter of coercing Thomas Glanville, the handsome and incredibly stubborn captain of the ship she’s captured, into telling her the exact location. Fortunately, Catherine knows that there are many ways to get a man to talk…

Captain Thomas Glanville has the cross and he’ll be damned if he’s going to hand it over now that he finally has the means to buy a ship of his own. He’s at the mercy of a fiery woman who will stop at nothing to achieve her goal. But Catherine has no idea who she’s dealing with–and Thomas has his own means of charming a woman into his mercy and his bed…

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About the book

What would you do if your “what if” guy showed up at the lowest point of your life?

(Autumn Cole clocked hers with an encyclopedia.)

After losing her job at a swanky Seattle art gallery and finding out her father has been hospitalized, single mother Autumn Cole reluctantly returns to her tiny hometown of Fairfield, Washington to put the pieces of her life back together.

Her disgruntled twelve-year-old son isn’t thrilled about going from hip to hick, but Autumn’s got it worse. She resumes her role as the daughter of the town drunk, promptly facing a crisis with her father that’s been decades in the making.

Running into Henry Tobler, and nearly breaking his nose, is almost more than she can handle, but can rediscovering love–and herself–with her “what if” guy teach Autumn to forgive before it’s too late?

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About the book

Single mom Taylor Lawrence just discovered that the hospital sent her home with the wrong infant five years ago. Now the headstrong and handsome biological father wants his child back. But Emily has always been her daughter, and Taylor wont give her up without a fight.

Widower Reece Wallace believed his life was over when a drunk driver killed his wife and daughter. So when he learns of the baby switch, he sees this child as his ultimate salvation. But he never anticipated the fiery woman on the other side of this custody battle or how shed stir feelings in him long dormant.

As the media storm surrounding the hospitals mistake intensifies, Taylor and Reece find theres more to sort out than custody of Emily they must work together to protect her while grappling with their growing attraction. Can they pick up the pieces of two broken families and meld them into something new?

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Cover Reveal: The Problem with Him by Rachel Higginson



Pre-Order Link for The Problem With Him:
The Problem With Him (Opposites Attract Book 3), Releasing June 26th:
I’m over men. I’m done with them.
Or at least the ones that work in my kitchen. Fine, one man in particular. Wyatt Shaw is cocky and condescending and so far out of his element that he doesn’t know which way is up. Or how to run his brand new kitchen all by himself.
That’s where I come in. Sous chef extraordinaire. Second in command. Bane of his existence. I am the reason Wyatt’s doing so well as the new executive chef of one of our city’s most prestigious restaurants. He has me to thank for his glowing accolades and five-star write-ups. Only if you were to ask him, he’d say I’m his biggest problem.
Despite his discouragement and bullish behavior, I’ve set two goals for myself.
The first? I’m going to fight my way to the top of this male-dominated industry and claim my own award-winning kitchen.
The second? I’m going to do whatever it takes to ignore Wyatt and his rare smiles and the thickening tension that’s started to simmer between us.
Wyatt Shaw might be Durham’s new shining star. He might be up for a James Beard Award. He might be my new boss and key to my future success, but he’s also in my way.
So he can keep his smoldering looks and secret kisses. And he can be the one that figures out how to make it through service without getting distracted by me.
I’m not the problem. The problem is him.
Other Books in the Series (Can be read as stand alone books):