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Interesting Hobby: Book Blitz

Grave Robbing and Other Hobbies Book Cover Grave Robbing and Other Hobbies
(Grave Concerns #1)
Jayce Carter
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Reverse Harem, Romance
Publication date: April 20th 2021

Ghosts, corpses and four hot men—what’s a girl to do? Abandoned at three—whose parents want a kid who sees ghosts?—I learned the world is quick to punish misfits. I try my best to be a normal, boring human, but the call of the supernatural just won’t be ignored. When a stranger shows up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, it’s no sexy tryst. Instead, I’m off to the graveyard, digging up the corpse of a murder victim at the demand of the local vampire coven—and that small felony is just the start. The spirit of the woman has gone missing—something that shouldn’t be possible—and everyone is looking to me for answers. There’s Kase, a vampire who’s both terrifying and secretive. Grant, a mage with a bad attitude and a lot of power. Troy, the possessive werewolf-detective next door and Hunter, a mysterious bad boy who isn’t even close to human. It’s a race not just against time but against everything to figure out where the spirits are going, who’s behind it and if I can trust the men who now share my bed. And all because of a little grave robbing…  

Ghosts, corpses and four hot men—what’s a girl to do?⁣

⁣@jaycecarterauthor is back with a new PNR reverse harem series, and book 1 s out NOW! Get your copy of Grave Robbing and Other Hobbies today ➞ https://amzn.to/2RXeGET⁣

⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣#Bibliophile #Bookshelf #BookClub #Bookish #Booksy #BookNerd #reverseharem #romancereads #jaycecarter #pnr #BookWorm #XpressoTours @XpressoTours #BookBlogger #BookQueen #BookLove #BookStack #GoodReads #BookShark #BookCommunity #ReadersOfInstagram #BookBabe #Reading #BookAesthetic #BookishPost⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣

Excerpt 1:

Hunter didn’t remove his hand from my mouth. It made me realize he was also entirely pressed against me, and despite it not being possible, he felt better than he’d looked. His skin was warm, even through my robe.

He took his hand off my mouth but didn’t move away. “Stay still,” he whispered against my ear.

“Why? Is it coming back?”

“No. I just really like looking down your robe.”

As soon as his words sank in, when I moved past the adrenaline and the purr of his voice, I realized that yes, my robe had bagged open and he had a perfect view down the front.

I elbowed him, but he didn’t seem to even feel it. He released me, though the way he did it implied my little move hadn’t meant a thing.

“I am so tired of people breaking into my house,” I said.

“You aren’t human, and you don’t have any wards. That’s the same as a ‘come on in’ sign in our world.”

“I am human.”

“Sure, shadow-girl.” He sent me a conspiratorial wink, as if we were on the joke together.

“No, I actually am. No funky teeth, no freaky eyes. Human.” I pointed at my face as though that drove the point home.

He waved at himself. “No funky teeth, no freaky eyes. Very much not human. Sure, though, if you want to pretend, I’m not one to turn down a bit of good roleplay. You want to be innocent Little Red Riding Hood? I’ll play the wolf.”

His suggestion derailed me. How could it not? Any girl who claimed she hadn’t had entirely inappropriate dreams about the wolf in that story was a damned liar. Once I’d reached a certain age, ‘all the better to eat you with’ had taken on a very different meaning.

I pictured a dark, heavily wooded forest as I ran, something on my heels, gaining ground. His warm breath on my neck when he caught me…

Suddenly I didn’t care what he’d said, why he was there or what exactly he meant by him ‘not being human’.

Until I recalled he’d broken in, and clearly him showing up at my office wasn’t a coincidence.

He snorted. “I liked where your mind was going before.”

“What are you doing here? And what was that thing?”

“Don’t we have better things to discuss? Or we can do away with talking all together.”

“I don’t sleep with people who might kill me, but thanks.”

“If someone might not kill you, are they even worth sleeping with in the first place?”

Excerpt 2:

I nodded, then handed the ice pack back to him. When he took it, he frowned at a red mark that remained on the white pack.

“Sorry.” I turned my hand over, the one Grant had cut, to find that sure enough, I’d managed to tear open the scab.

“What happened?”

“Grant needed my blood for the wards.”

He frowned, as though he disliked the idea. “He could have done less damage.”

“That’s what I said, but he said it was about the sacrifice of the action.”

Kase lifted his thumb to his mouth and pressed it against the tip of his fang. He didn’t grimace, didn’t show any reaction to the wound.

Blood welled at the top, a red so dark it was almost purple.

Which sent me bolting. I jumped to my feet, wanting that blood nowhere near me.

Kase didn’t grab me—and I knew damn well he could have, because vampires were terrifyingly fast—but he stared. “Really?”

“I may not always love my life, but I do love being alive. No thanks to that.” I waved at his thumb.

“How can you be so ignorant of our world? You can’t be turned into a vampire from a little blood.”

“That sounds like men who say a girl can’t get knocked up because it’s just the tip.”

“I am sterile, so that isn’t an issue I deal with.” Kase spoke with such flatness of his voice, I almost missed that he’d made a joke, even more so because he so quickly moved on from it. “To be changed from mortal, a person has to die. My blood will help to heal you, but it won’t change you since I, again, don’t plan on killing you.”

I pressed my lips together, then responded slowly. “You know, I normally don’t spend so much time around people who have to keep telling me they don’t plan on killing me.”

“Would you rather I not tell you that?”

“I’d rather you not need to tell me that.”

Excerpt 3:

“You need to do something,” I said as Kase and Troy struck a wall and knocked off a painting. Sure, it was a cheap one I’d picked up at a chain store, some mass-produced image of cherry blossoms I’d always thought would make me a calmer person, but it was my stupid painting and they’d ruined it!

“You’re right,” Grant said and snapped his fingers, whispering a few words.

The two fighting seemed unaffected, however, as Troy flung Kase off him and Kase sailed back, almost faster than my vision could follow.

I was about to tell Grant it hadn’t worked when I realized he held a bowl of popcorn now.

Had he really used his magic to summon popcorn? Hunter reached over me to grab a handful.

“You said you couldn’t use magic for frivolous things,” I stammered.

“I can’t.”

“You used it to get popcorn!”

Grant lifted the popcorn as though to make a point. “This isn’t frivolous, Ava. There is a man-on-man fight here—that requires snacks to properly watch. Get your priorities straight.”

My mouth hung open. Every time I thought I had my feet under me with these men, they showed me how wrong I was.

“They could kill each other,” I finally said.

“Sure, but they won’t.” Hunter stole another handful of popcorn and tossed some in his mouth, a few pieces falling to the couch. “Troy hasn’t fully shifted and Kase isn’t biting. This is just one of those macho alpha dominance shows. Let’s all be glad they’re doing this instead of actually measuring dicks. Trust me, that just hurts feelings.”

I went to get up, but Hunter wrapped an arm around me to keep me there. “Nope. This? This is the sort of thing where an accidental stray punch could end a fragile thing like you. Best to stay out of fights between immortals.”

“They’re wrecking my place,” I complained and winced as they destroyed yet another small table. It splintered into a million pieces, and even though I couldn’t for the life of me recall where I’d gotten it from, the loss made me sigh.

“They’ll fix it. Hell, they’ll probably get you nicer stuff just because they feel bad. Make sure you milk that. I want a large-screen TV here,” Grant told me before offering me some popcorn.

And, really, what was a girl to do? I couldn’t stop the fight and the two people who could—Hunter and Grant—didn’t seem all that driven to do so.

So I took some of the popcorn and joined in on the show.

Apparently saving the world would need to wait for these two to work out their little testosterone-driven fight.

It seemed all men were alike, immortal or not.

Children.



iBooks: https://books.apple.com/ca/book/grave-robbing-and-other-hobbies/id1555742936
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/grave-robbing-and-other-hobbies
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jayce_Carter_Grave_Robbing_and_Other_Hobbies?id=_TAhEAAAQBAJ

Author Bio

Jayce Carter lives in Southern California with her husband and two spawns. She originally wanted to take over the world but realized that would require wearing pants. This led her to choosing writing, a completely pants-free occupation. She has a fear of heights yet rock climbs for fun and enjoys making up excuses for not going out and socializing.


Author links:

https://www.jaycecarter.com/

https://www.facebook.com/JayceCarterAuthor/

https://www.instagram.com/jaycecarterauthor/?hl=en

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19718300.Jayce_Carter

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Sweeter than..

Ain’t She Sweet by Whitney Dineen (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) Publication date: December 15th 2020 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Tara Heinz began her modeling career at the tender age of twelve. After spending fifteen years drooling over forbidden foods, she does the unthinkable. She enrolls in culinary school and becomes a pastry chef.⁣

⁣After a nasty breakup with her rock star boyfriend that leads to tabloid war, Tara takes a job at a rural lodge in Oregon to escape the spotlight she no longer desires.⁣

⁣James Cavanaugh is a farmer in Oregon. His days are spent building his business and his nights are spent sleeping, so he can get up at four in the morning.⁣

⁣Ruby Cavanaugh has plans for her son that involve her new pastry

Excerpt 1

My eighty-three-year-old yoga instructor, Rupa Babu always says that when your soul is conflicted and your mind is foggy, you need to drop to the ground and immediately execute an Ardha Matsyendrasansa, or half spinal twist. Hold it for twelve minutes and then start writing—I usually write lists. She promises enlightenment will flow through your fingers and your spine will be as supple as a newborn baby’s. I could only ever hold the pose for five minutes, but I still hoped for enlightenment.  

Things I Don’t Like About Modeling

1. Being so hungry I start fantasizing about stealing a little girl’s ice cream cone and eating the whole thing before she can tell her mother. Not that I’ve ever done that, but there have been some close calls.

2.      Wearing clothes that I wouldn’t be caught dead in in real life. I cite the black jean mini skirt with an over-the-top ragged fringe hem that oddly dipped in the front making it look like I’d missed my last twenty waxing appointments. 

3.     Waxing appointments. 

4.     Jet lag.

5.      That German photographer, Helmet, who spits orders—as in literal spit flies out of his mouth, often hitting me. “Lächeln! Wende! Und nicht jetzt, diese schlampe geht nicht raus! Translation: “Smile! Move! And inexplicably, Not now, this bitch isn’t putting out!” I’m pretty sure something got lost in translation with this one.

Things I Like About Modeling

1.

Yup, pretty sure it’s time for a change.

——————————————————————————————————————–.

 After arranging an assortment of gourds on her newspaper-covered dining room table, Ruby picks up her telephone to call her oldest son, Brogan. “How are you and Addie doing?” she wants to know. As the first recipients of her matchmaking endeavor, the success of their union is integral to her confidence in setting up her younger son, James, with her new pastry chef.

“She’s great. We’re great. New York is beautiful in the fall.”

Whoever said glitter was the herpes of the crafting world never fully appreciated its hypnotic effects, Ruby thinks while spraying gold glitter paint. “I knew you two were meant to be.”

“I don’t know how you decided that, but I’m glad you did. For a while there I thought you were trying to set Addison up with James. Speaking of which, how are things going between him and Tara?”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asks, trying—and failing—to sound innocent. 

“Don’t try to tell me you haven’t set your sights on her for my little brother.”

After several moments, Ruby dejectedly confesses, “It’s been hard finding ways to throw them together now that James’s farmstand is mostly closed for the season. I’ve had to resort to hiring your brother to put in a garden here at the lodge.”

“Interesting. I’m not sure I should offer, but let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“You and Addie are still coming home for Christmas, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. We arrive the second week of December and are planning on staying until the first week of March. I’ll be working on my new novel and Addie is going to commute to a hotel she’s redesigning in Portland.”

Ruby walks around the table, eyeing her decorative fall creation before firing off a final burst of sparkle. “I might need your help then. In the meantime, don’t bring up Tara’s name when you talk to James. I don’t want him to guess what I’m up to until it’s too late.”

“You make me nervous, Mom, but you did such a great job for me that I promise not to interfere in your latest project.”

“Good. Now, I’ve got to go. Your brother will be here any minute to meet with Tara about the dessert portion of the garden.”

“Does he know he’s meeting with her?” Brogan asks. 

“Of course not. What fun would that be? Bye!” Ruby hangs up on her son before he has a chance to reply. After refreshing her lipstick and picking invisible lint from her sweater, she’s off to make another love connection.

————————————————————————————————————-

James is dawdling behind me on the way back to the lodge from the garden site. He’s moving as quickly as if he were on his way to have his legs amputated. “Hurry up, I have tons of stuff to do today,” I snap at him.

“I think I’ll just head home,” he says, veering his trajectory toward the parking lot. 

“Get back here,” I order. “For some reason, your mom wants me involved in this garden. Being that she’s my boss, I’m going to do what she’s asked. Unless you want me to tell her you can’t be bothered consulting me, that is.”

“Are you seven years old? You’re going to tell my mom on me?”

He’s got a point. James definitely brings out the child in me, and not in a good way.

“The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can part ways,” I tell him. I don’t think I’ve ever annoyed a man as much as I do this one. Okay, there was that makeup artist who told me his makeup brush wasn’t a wand when I complained about how he applied my blush, but other than him, I usually get on pretty well with men. 

“What kind of flowers do you want in the garden?” James asks like it’s causing him physical pain to do so.

“Obviously nasturtiums and roses, but I’d like dahlias, pansies, and violets, too.”

Obviously …” he mumbles under his breath before asking louder, “What about hops?” 

“I make a mean, stout brownie. I could use hops in it to add a sort of sedative effect.” Desserts tend to use a lot of things that are meant to soothe the palate after a big meal. Mint and lavender are two of the more common herbs, but hops would be a nice addition. 

James interrupts my thoughts by asking, “Why did you come to Oregon?” He sounds perturbed again, or should I say, still.

“Clearly, because I somehow knew it would irritate you and I couldn’t help myself,” I fire back.

“Seriously,” his tone evens out to an almost conversational level. “You don’t seem the type to live someplace outside of the fast lane.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know plenty. For instance, I know you were on the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition four times by the time you were twenty-five, I know you were engaged to Romaine Choate, and I know you can swear in French.”

“Caught that episode of Jimmy Fallon, did you?” 

“I think the whole world watched that one.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. 

“Part of the fun of being interviewed on late night television is the ability to be a bit salty. I simply took advantage of the situation.” Not to mention, Jimmy Fallon has a decent sense of humor about himself and he likes when people don’t fawn all over him. Although, I’m sure he would have forgiven me almost anything thanks to the dress I was wearing. Men seem to have a hard time concentrating when an attractive woman is practically painted into her clothes.

A whisper of a smile crosses James’s face before he says, “It takes talent to call someone an effing gasbag and have them laugh at it.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a fan.” 

He rears up and stops moving as soon as the words are out of my mouth. “Fan? No. I may have appreciated your physical attributes from time to time, but I was never a fan. Please disabuse yourself of that notion immediately.”

“Yet I recall your mom telling me that you hung my posters on your wall when you were in high school.” I can’t help myself; I have to tease him about that.

“Just because I liked the way you look on the outside doesn’t mean I like you.”

“That’s very superficial,” I tell him.

“Seems to me the whole modeling business is superficial. You’d think you’d know that being part of it for so long.”

There is no getting along with this guy, so I stop trying. We make the rest of the trek back to the lodge in total silence, which is far preferable to the conversation we had been having.

Author Bio

Ain’t She Sweet by @whitneydineenauthor is a brand new rom-com and it’s out NOW! Get it today ➞ https://amzn.to/3gGZzI0⁣

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to. 

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Author links:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8145525.Whitney_Dineen

https://www.instagram.com/whitneydineenauthor/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/category/Writer/Whitney-Dineen-Author-11687019412/

⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣

#Bibliophile #Booshelf #BookClub #Bookish #Booksy #BookNerd

#XpressoTours@XpressoTours #bookstagrammer #BookBlogger #BookLove #BookStack #GoodReads #BookShark #BookCommunity #BookBabe #Reading #BookAesthetic #BookishPost⁣⁣⁣

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