Flying High: Book Blitz
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Flying High: Book Blitz

Harry crossed the street. No one crossed after him, but whoever was after him was closer now.
He could feel it.
That cold stab of dread, sixth sense, gut feeling. Like icy fingers down his skin.
And if someone was after Harry, it wasn’t good. He was the hunter, never the hunted. If he was the mark . . .
Christ. He was the mark.
Harry ducked past two women, slipping through a narrow utility alley, and he ran. He was being chased now, silent and fast. At the end of the alley, he turned left and went through an open door, up a set of stairs to the roof, his heart hammering.
He ran along the roofline, exposed but faster than on the street. He heard footsteps chasing behind him but didn’t dare turn around, and as the muted whirr of a bullet pinged past his head, he jumped.
He knew the sound of that gun. It was a SIG Pro 9mm with a suppressor.
French special forces, standard issue.
He landed on a first-floor balcony, using his momentum to leap again, this time to the ground. Pain shot through his ankle but he kept moving, down another alley, and through an open door and into a darkened hall.
Hands grabbed him, spun him and pinned his back against the wall as the door closed behind him. In half a disorienting second, Harry pulled his gun to his assailant’s head at the same time he realised he had a pistol pressed against his.
Eyes flashed in the dark, familiar and close. A man’s body pressed him hard to the wall, their chests heaving. A hand covered his mouth.
“Shh.”
Harry didn’t dare breathe, his finger on the trigger, still aimed at the man’s head. The cold press of metal against Harry’s temple told him to wait.
The sound of feet outside came running. The crackle of a radio, a French voice just outside the door. “I’ve lost him.” The footsteps faded, and only after a long moment did the man move his hand from Harry’s mouth.
Harry could see then who it was.
Asher Garin.
Asher fucking Garin.
Adrenaline exploded through Harry’s veins and he started, pushing his pistol harder into Asher’s temple. Asher gnashed his teeth. Anger and defiance flashed in his eyes. “Keep quiet or you’ll kill us both,” Asher hissed, barely a whisper.
His words didn’t make sense.
Asher had saved him?

Not Quite Good Enough: Book Blitz
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Not Quite Good Enough: Book Blitz

Almost Perfect 1800X2700 2 - Not Quite Good Enough: Book Blitz
Assistant antique dealer by day, cat burglar by night, Sable Devereaux has lived in the shadows for years. With one final heist, she can walk away from a life of crime and open her own antique store, retiring to the quiet existence she has always dreamed of. But during her last theft, she witnesses a murder and goes on the run to escape the cross-hairs of some very powerful people. Agent and master-of-disguise, Hunter Mitchell…
AlmostPerfectBlitzBanner - Not Quite Good Enough: Book Blitz

A cat burglar and an assassin run for their lives across Paris—and try not to get distracted by the sizzling attraction between them.

AUTHOR BIO:

Delaney Diamond is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sensual, passionate romance novels, and was born and raised in the U.S. Virgin Islands. She reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. When she’s not busy reading or writing, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes, dining at one of her favorite restaurants, or traveling to an interesting locale. To get sneak peeks, notices of sale prices, and find out about new releases, visit her website and join her mailing list. Enjoy free stories on her website at www.delaneydiamond.com.

Author links:
https://www.delaneydiamond.com/
https://www.facebook.com/DelaneyDiamond/
https://www.pinterest.ca/delaneydiamond/_created/
https://twitter.com/delaneydiamond
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4416767.Delaney_Diamond

Delaney - Not Quite Good Enough: Book Blitz
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How Strong? Book Blitz

Rome

Our eyes connected through the chaos.
Ash’s face broke out in the brightest smile I’d ever seen on her. Her hand shot into the air in greeting. Mine only came up about halfway, but my grin couldn’t be contained. She glanced at the clock on the wall, said something to one of the other bartenders, then started filling up a tray with shot glasses. Before I knew it, she was headed in my direction, tray in tow. The crowd parted around her, making way for their favorite bartender.
My grin faded.
Only to be replaced by…a warning.
She was on the other side of the bar now. And for some reason, that gave the men in this place the idea that she was suddenly approachable. More on-limits, as opposed to when she was taking orders from behind the bar. They were openly checking out her tits in that green halter top, her ass, whispering things to their buddies, snickering in mutual agreement.
If these motherfuckers knew how many people I’d killed, they’d be shitting their pants.
This redheaded firecracker had a man. And it wasn’t any of these assholes.
Fuck.
My obsession was spiraling out of control if I was ready to murder other men just for checking her out.
I knew that murderous glare was still in place when she reached me because she pushed my frown up into a smile with two of her fingers. “There. Doesn’t that feel better?”
Cutting a look at her admirers over her shoulder, I placed a proprietary hand on her lower back. When they all sulked in disappointment, I stood a little taller. “It does now.”
“Testosterone overload.”

What do you see? Book Blitz
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What do you see? Book Blitz

As he stepped up, Olivia rolled down the window and placed both hands on the steering wheel as Brent had taught her to do. The officer removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket. Olivia jerked, taken aback by the vividness of his deep blue eyes. A tidal wave of heat gushed over her cheeks as she took in his rugged features. She was mortified at the attraction that pinged through her. Why did he have to be so dang good-looking? And why did he have to exude such a bad-boy, reckless vibe that called to her inner soul? It didn’t hurt that he filled out his cop uniform well with his cut biceps and masculine forearms. Great gravity, he was nice to look at.
His gaze lingered on her a moment too long, and then he seemed to catch himself. “Good afternoon,” he began in a brisk tone. “May I see your license and registration?”
It happened again. Their eyes connected, sending all rational thoughts flying out the window. When a tiny smile tugged at a corner of the officer’s mouth, Olivia found herself grinning back like a goober.
His quirk of amusement gave her the jolt she needed to return to her senses. Good grief, she was acting like a moonstruck idiot! She’d always been a sucker for cops. Add in his stunning good looks and sense of arrogance, and she was a goner for sure.
“Your license and registration,” he prompted
She snapped out of her daze. No way could she get involved with another cop. Hadn’t she had enough heartache over Brent to last her a lifetime? Danger followed cops, or rather cops followed danger. She owed it to Ryan and to herself to find a guy who had a stable, predictable job.
What the freaky Frankenstein was she thinking! Here she was contemplating a future … or squelching any chance of a future with some guy who probably wasn’t remotely interested in her. He was simply doing his job. The eye-locking thing was probably a figment of her imagination—proof that she was in desperate need of a good night’s sleep. She was getting twitter-pated over nothing. Was the guy even single? She glanced at his ring finger and felt a curious blip of relief when she saw the naked strip of skin over that all-important finger. Of course, just because he wasn’t wearing a ring didn’t mean that he wasn’t involved with someone.
“Uh, sure,” she stammered as she turned to find her purse. She glanced down at the floorboard and Arden’s feet only to realize that her purse was in the back seat. She was twisting around to get it when Arden caught hold of her arm.
“I’ve got this.” Arden’s voice rang out both confident and indignant.
Crumb! Arden was about to get on her high horse. This was bound to end poorly.
“Officer, do you have any idea who this is?” She looked at Olivia as she spoke.
He raised an eyebrow in faint amusement. “A woman who was speeding in a school zone,” he quipped dryly.
Olivia’s jaw dropped. “I was not speeding! I slowed down.”
He didn’t back down in the slightest. “When you saw my car. And for the record, you didn’t slow down soon enough.”
“I never saw your car.” Anger blanketed her, hot and furious. “I slowed down the instant I saw the sign. That sign should be displayed more prominently,” she added defensively.
He smirked. “If it had been a snake, it would’ve bitten you. License and registration,” he demanded, looking her in the eye.
It went through Olivia’s mind that the guy was a jerk. She should be outraged about the snake wisecrack. But right now, she couldn’t think straight. She was feeling things she never thought she’d feel again—the stir of ribbons through her stomach, the flush of warmth over her skin, the heady sizzle of energy pulsing through her like a fireball.
“Fine,” she spouted as she turned to get her purse. Placing it in her lap, she reached for her wallet and slid out her license. As she handed it over, her hand brushed against the cop’s, rustling awareness through her. Okay, this idiotic attraction was out of control. She turned to Arden, her discomfort spewing out in irritation. “Don’t just sit there like a ninny. Get the registration out of the glovebox.”

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Unclear distance: Book Blitz

Each flip of the key ring around his index finger tallied another reason to quit the world of high stake’s business. Work stemming from a far-fetched theory had taken form and flourished beyond his imagination.
Unlike the soundless steps of his bodyguard’s booted strides, Wyatt’s tennis shoes pealed squishy squeaks through the dimly lit parking garage.
“Adam, this does not make my list of top favorite places to visit. Next time I help an old college friend, maybe we could pick a drier day and find parking other than a creepy garage?”
A rat skittered across the floor in the shadows, its gimlet-eyed stare marking the intruders’ positions. Air redolent of filth, gas, and pizza from a nearby restaurant clogged Wyatt’s sinuses, reminiscent of the alley apartment occupied during college. Since those lean years, digital fluency and hard work had jettisoned him to the top of his field.
The clash of artificial dingy light and murky silhouettes added an ominous, prophetic feeling he couldn’t shake. Water stains mingled with shapeless apparitions to create fleeting two-dimensional monsters between vehicles, ready to attack unwary travelers.
He was not a fan of inkblot tests.
I haven’t been spooked like this in years.
Adam shrugged. “As far as security is concerned, it’s not an ideal location since the street side is open, but it is the closest available. Roadside parking leaves you too vulnerable. As much as you cherish you privacy, I’m surprised you offered to help him. Why couldn’t you do it over the net?”
“Hardware issues require hands-on assistance. He’s my ex-roommate. I felt sorry for him. Modern advances in technology left him in the dust.”
“Next time, suggest a meeting during daylight hours and a place of our choosing?”
Adam narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as if listening to a far-off sound. The combination spelled trouble. His steps slowed and adopted a deliberate edge even as his shoulders tightened in preparation to strike.
“A graveyard walk would be less creepy, and a proctologist’s exam more fun.” Sweat beaded Wyatt’s forehead despite the cool spring breeze drifting over the graffiti-covered knee wall.
“This place feels off to me. Let’s get the hell out of here—” Adam stopped, holding out his right arm to halt their progress.
Wyatt’s slip on a crudely patched piece of concrete necessitated his bodyguard’s steadying hand. Dirt and loose crumbles skittered underfoot, their audio report echoing off the walls.
“Watch your step, boss. No need to broadcast our location.”
“You know,” Wyatt muttered. “People think of me as a good analytical, concrete thinker. I guess whatever higher power gifted me with intuitive abilities for logistics and computers exacted a mental tariff—common sense.” His penchant for talking when nervous filled the quiet atmosphere.
“My instincts say trouble’s GPS has locked on. Stay close.”
The soft glide of his bodyguard’s gun from his shoulder rig compelled Wyatt to suck in chilled air that seared his lungs. Each step forward carried the expectation of death.
“Intuition is your best survival tool and seldom wrong. For an athletic geek, yours is pretty good.”
Wyatt didn’t argue the conciliatory assessment. Routine sparring with Adam revealed the bodyguard had reflexes that boggled the mind.
Sudden sharp beeps shattered the silence. A sequence of long and short chirps denoting binary code identified Wyatt’s caller. His heart rate shot into overdrive. Hair on his nape prickled as he fumbled the device. Swiping to ignore didn’t recall the audible beacon.
Massive pillars supported the five-story concrete structure that supplied parking space for the attached office building. Rounding one to his left, Wyatt stumbled as Adam snatched him sideways.
The colossal brute they almost bounced off had detached from the shadows with a stealth befitting a sixteenth century ninja. Colossal mass defied speed but personified malice with a savage gaze and gap-toothed smile.
“Jesus!” Wyatt’s split-second observation induced a rush of adrenaline with the hand holding his cell thrusting forward in self-protection. “Damn. You’re big.”
Deep chuckling inspired images of the worst villains in horror movies.
Brown hair pulled back in a ponytail swept the shoulder of the man bearing a gold tooth. A ridge of pitted, tanned skin separated the straight bushy unibrow deepening with a tilt of his head. Dark eyes retained terrible knowledge embracing and calculating endless methods for the most efficient kill.
After flicking a glance over the bodyguard in silent disregard, the brute’s appraisal raked Wyatt’s body head to toe. Thin lips widened in obvious glee.
“Time to meet your maker, prodigy.” He mimicked Wyatt’s sidestep in a lightning-fast move and knocked Adam’s gun from his hand. The pistol ricocheted under a nearby Toyota producing multiple tin-like clinks.
Time shattered into bits and pieces where each fractured instant unfurled another fragment of the ominous scene. Wyatt’s thoughts stuttered on a long blink.

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