RJ Scott

Review Tour & Giveaway: Scott by RJ Scott & V.L. Locey

 

 
Length: 50,000 words approx.
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Owatonna U Series 
 
Book #1 – Ryker – Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link
 
Blurb
 

What happens when you try to fix the past and end up threatening your future?



Scott is struggling. Grieving the loss of his brother, carrying the weight of his father’s expectations, and getting his ass kicked in the rink, he’s in a downward spiral. He needs a solution and fast, but when his steroid use is exposed, he’s close to losing his place at Owatonna and more importantly, on the Eagles Hockey team. Thrown out of his house, with nowhere to go and no future in sight, he only has one choice; agree to mandatory counseling, random drug tests, and get his act together. Only then will he have a chance at normal. Meeting Hayne, a senior connected to the world through his art, is a shock to the system. Moving in with him is his only option, but falling for the shy artist leaves Scott in an impossible situation, and one he can’t escape.



Hayne has always been that quiet, creative kid who sat in the back of class drawing instead of listening to the teacher. A talented artist, the shy and sensitive young man is struggling with the loss of his childhood friend. Seeing his sadness reflected in his usually colorful paintings, he decides to attend grief counseling and meets Scott, a lost soul in desperate need of light and color in his life. Taking in a homeless hockey player certainly was never part of his carefully orchestrated ten-year plan. But now that Scott is in his life, he’s discovering the joy of this man’s loving smile and tender touch is one of the most beautiful palettes on earth.

Jenn Review

 

4 Stars

There is just something about hockey romance that just makes me happy and RJ Scott and V.L. Locey deliver another hockey story I really enjoyed!

 

There really is a lot to this story and it’s definitely not as hockey focused as some of their books but it really is a touching story about healing and love! Scott finds himself in some trouble with the team after his steroid use is discovered. On top of trying to deal with the death of his brother, now he is abandoned by his family. Hayne has always been the quirky, artistic type so he doesn’t always fit in, he too is dealing with a loss and meets Scott at a grief support group. He’s leery about the jock but there’s something about Scott that makes him want to help. He offers him a place to stay and so it begins.

 

There is a good amount of angst in this book, a lot of emotion but I really liked Scott and Hayne and their journey! These two are opposites brought together by grief but they find something together and heal. Definitely a more emotional read, but a good one for sure!

 

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.



RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.



The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.



She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below:


USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.



V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.



When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.


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Release Blitz & Giveaway: Scott by RJ Scott & V.L. Locey

Happy Wednesday! We are excited to share the Release Blitz & Giveaway for Scott by RJ Scott & V.L. Locey! I’ll be reviewing this one next week!
Happy Reading!

 

 
Length: 50,000 words approx.
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Owatonna U Series 
 
Book #1 – Ryker – Amazon US | Amazon UK | Universal Link
 
Blurb
 

What happens when you try to fix the past and end up threatening your future?



Scott is struggling. Grieving the loss of his brother, carrying the weight of his father’s expectations, and getting his ass kicked in the rink, he’s in a downward spiral. He needs a solution and fast, but when his steroid use is exposed, he’s close to losing his place at Owatonna and more importantly, on the Eagles Hockey team. Thrown out of his house, with nowhere to go and no future in sight, he only has one choice; agree to mandatory counseling, random drug tests, and get his act together. Only then will he have a chance at normal. Meeting Hayne, a senior connected to the world through his art, is a shock to the system. Moving in with him is his only option, but falling for the shy artist leaves Scott in an impossible situation, and one he can’t escape.



Hayne has always been that quiet, creative kid who sat in the back of class drawing instead of listening to the teacher. A talented artist, the shy and sensitive young man is struggling with the loss of his childhood friend. Seeing his sadness reflected in his usually colorful paintings, he decides to attend grief counseling and meets Scott, a lost soul in desperate need of light and color in his life. Taking in a homeless hockey player certainly was never part of his carefully orchestrated ten-year plan. But now that Scott is in his life, he’s discovering the joy of this man’s loving smile and tender touch is one of the most beautiful palettes on earth.

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.



RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.



The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.



She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below:


USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.



V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.



When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.


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Hosted By Signal Boost Promotions

 

Review Tour & Giveaway: Home For Christmas by RJ Scott

Happy Monday! Today we are excited to be a part of the Review Tour for Home For Christmas by RJ Scott! I love this series and this is a great addition with holiday feeling added in! I hope you’ll check out my review, the excerpt and the giveaway we have today!

 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK 
 
Length: 45,000 words approx.
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 

Texas Series



Book #1 – The Heart of Texas – Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #2 – Texas Winter – Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #3 – Texas Heat – Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #4 – Texas Family – Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #5 – Texas Christmas – Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #6 – Texas Fall – Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #7 – Texas Wedding – Amazon US | Amazon UK

Book #8 – Texas Gift – Amazon US | Amazon UK

 
Blurb
 

Can Connor show River a real family Christmas?



When Connor finds River on the roof of the campus admin building, he doesn’t know what to do. His friend is drunk, and shouting into a snowstorm, a bottle of vodka in his hand. The easy part is getting River down; the hard part is insisting River comes home with Connor for Christmas.



River doesn’t have a family, or any place outside of college that he calls home. Not that it matters to him; he’s happy being alone for Christmas in his budget motel, watching reruns of Elf. Only, Connor keeps telling wildly improbable stories of the perfect family celebrations at his parents’ ranch in Texas, and it’s wearing River down. He didn’t ask to be kidnapped. He didn’t want to fall in love with the entire Campbell-Hayes family. But he does.



From one Christmas to the next. This is Connor’s year to rescue River, and himself, for them both to mess things up, make things right, fall in lust and finally, for Connor to show the man he loves what being part of a family can mean.

 

Jenn Review

 

4.5 Stars

 

This is a touching holiday story plus a chance to check in on some of my favorite characters, I loved it! This is the story of Connor and River, two college friends who shared one night of passion but haven’t spoken about it since that night. When River has a bit of meltdown right before Christmas Connor makes the decision to bring River home to his family and the D. But family is two very different things for these guys and it’s an experience that changes both Connor and River and their new chemistry.

 

I loved these characters (as I expected to) so much! Connor is a fixer and a romantic and he just wants to take away the pain River experiences and make him happy. River is a bit more complicated and his issues run deep. He struggles with so many things and is afraid to open his heart.

 

I really enjoyed the way this story developed, the highs and the lows these guys go through. I especially loved seeing River open up, he owned my heart in this book.  This book is a wonderful addition to this series and to any holiday reading list!

 
Excerpt
 
Chapter 1



Connor skidded to a stop.



The cold December wind whipped around his face, ice and snow knifing into his skin, and at first, he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.



Maybe he should have stopped, called 911, shouted for help, but it could’ve been too late, so he’d acted on instinct alone. He’d taken the four flights of stairs at a run, reaching the roof and throwing the door open. His lungs burned from the freezing air and his voice had gone. What now?



Why was River on the roof in nothing but jeans and a T-shirt, clearly drunk? Why was he standing on the ledge, his feet spread, his arms wide, and a bottle of vodka in his hand?



When the girl from his floor told him she’d seen River go up to the roof, he thought she’d meant something else. He often went up there to read or watch life go by. But not in a snow storm.



He didn’t expect to see River standing on the ledge in the snow.



Don’t scare him. He’ll stumble and fall. He might jump.



A gust of air slapped Connor. River swayed to the left but righted himself with the casual grace of a gymnast. River wouldn’t fall by accident. Hell, Connor had seen him balance on one hand on a diving board, perfectly still, before falling gracefully and accurately with spins and pikes into the water below. He’d never seen River falter.



“River?” Connor asked, only an inch from grabbing River’s shirt and holding him tight. He saw River tense, but he didn’t wobble in surprise or slip and fall to the ground.



“I canbalance. Look at me.” River sounded so damn proud of himself.



Connor took a small step forward, finally being able to hold River’s shirt, hoping to hell that would be enough to stop River from falling.



“Come down, buddy.”



River lifted the bottle over his head, sloshing alcohol over his hair, his tongue flicking out to catch any that ran over his face.



“Fuck,” he shouted.



Connor tugged at him, not knowing what else to do. “Come back,” he said, loud enough that River actually looked at him.



“Leave me alone,” he said.



“I’m not leaving you on the roof,” Connor snapped and got a better hold of River, hooking a finger into his belt. River wasn’t a big guy, a diver’s body, no more than five ten and a buck sixty soaking wet, but if he fell, would Connor be able to hold him long enough to save him?



River pulled against Connor’s grip, and for a second the world stopped turning as Connor had to use his entire body weight to keep him upright. Something about the action must have scared River. He cursed and rocked backward, but he still wouldn’t come down.



“Come down,” Connor pleaded. “You’re scaring me.”



“You think you gotta save me? Huh?” River threw his arms wide again, more alcohol sloshing over the top of the bottle. “I don’t need saving.”



“I want you to come down.” Connor tried for calm. What was he doing? He should have called the cops immediately when he spotted River. Or firefighters, negotiators? Or whoever the hell should’ve been here. He’d seen things like this on the television, the mediator knowing all the right things to say and do, standing by River and connecting him to his family or childhood or his faith. All Connor knew was that he needed to pull River down, use the only thing he had going for him; the fact that he was bigger and stronger.



“I like it up here!” River explained with another wide gesture. He wobbled a little but righted himself immediately.



“Come down, Riv.”



“Saint Connor tries to save everyone,” River shouted, ending with a hysterical laugh. He was clearly losing control of himself, and even if Connor did have the words to talk him down, he thought maybe he’d just yank River back onto the concrete roof of the building and worry about injuries later.



But River wasn’t finished. “Even if they don’t need saving!”



“River!”



“Who the hell cares if I can balance, huh?”



“I care,” Connor shouted back. This was so out of character.



“Yeah, right, telling me what Christmas and family is like for you, making me see it in my head, and then leaving me here alone.”



“River, please.” Connor tugged him, but River wouldn’t move back.



“Leaving me here, alone, because that’s all anyone ever does. They fuck off, leave me, and what happens when college is over, huh? What happens when I lose that?” He lifted one clenched fist to the sky. “Fuck you!”



Connor had never heard River curse like this, and he was done with holding on to him. So evaluating where they would end up if they fell backward and not caring how much it hurt, he yanked, hard. River tumbled with him, arms flailing and the vodka bottle slipping from his grasp and falling into the tub of snow-covered plants on the roof patio. The two of them fell onto the roof, Connor using his body to cushion River’s descent, getting his arms full of an icy cold man, the breath forced from his lungs when they hit the ground.



Connor enveloped him in his arms and locked his hands in place, fighting a frozen, wet, drunk River. He wouldn’t get free. Connor had his pappa’s height, a rancher’s build, and he was a solid anchor in the wind and snow. There was no point in River fighting, and somehow he must have realized he couldn’t get free and went still in Connor’s arms.



All Connor could think was that he’d wanted River back in his arms for a long time now, but he’d expected soft lighting and mood music, not driving winds and snow.



“What the hell are you doing?” Connor demanded.



“Let me the fuck go.”



“Jesus, are you trying to kill yourself?”



River attempted to wriggle free. Connor’s grip didn’t falter in his hold. With his arms securely around River, he shuffled them back so they were protected by the low wall. He wanted to get them back inside, but he wasn’t ready to let River go yet, and the door was at least ten feet away. What if River wriggled free and ran for the ledge? The idea of River on the ground, twisted in death, blood… Connor didn’t want to think about it. He opened his coat, one-handed, and then pulled River closer, trying to get as much of the material to go over him, attempting to keep them both warm. River’s skin was like ice. How long had he been standing up there?



“What were you doing?” he demanded, but River didn’t reply, only burrowed deeper into Connor’s hold. This was stupid. He needed to get them off the roof, or he needed help. His phone was in the car. The campus was emptying for Christmas. It was ten a.m., snowing. What the hell was he going to do now?



“I have no one,” River muttered, then laughed and buried his face deeper.



“What do you mean? Talk to me, River.”



“No.”



“We need to get inside.”



How the hell do I get River inside?



He imagined struggling with River’s weight, trying to get him down four flights of stairs and across to his room. Maybe if he could just get him to the car, with its heated seats and the warm air blower and the coffee in a flask that Connor had made for the start of his journey back to Dallas. Then he could call someone, the cops or a doctor? That seemed like a plan, a focus. He scrambled to his feet, bringing River with him, and stumbled inside. As soon as the door shut, warmth hit them, prickling at his exposed skin, and he moved toward the radiator, still gripping River’s belt. He let go of him long enough to remove his jacket and place it around the shivering man’s shoulders.



River buried himself in the coat, and Connor went into disaster assessment mode. He’d seen hypothermia back home at the D, and it wasn’t pretty. He remembered his pappa saying there were signs to look for, and when Jack spoke, Connor always listened. He pulled up the facts he could remember. Did River have hypothermia? His teeth weren’t chattering, and he wasn’t talking at all, so it wasn’t obvious if he was slurring. Then, even if he did talk and his speech was slurry, how could Connor tell how much vodka he’d drunk? Connor tried to remember the symptoms. The college hospital wasn’t far away. He could drive there, and they would help.



Why the hell did I leave my phone in the damned car?



“It’s okay. I’m okay.”



“No, you’re not.”



“You can go,” River said dully. He wriggled closer to the radiator.



“I’m not going anywhere.”



“But you are,” River murmured. “You kissed me, you got me off, and now you’re leaving today.” Then he hid his face in his hands. “Shit, shit, shit.”



Wait. Was this about what happened at the thanksgiving party?



Is this my fault?



Connor didn’t usually drink that much, but he’d had one beer too many at the party, to the point where he had all the courage he needed to wait for River to come out of the bathroom.



“Can I kiss you?” he’d asked, and River had stared at him, stone-cold sober and narrow-eyed.



But then, holy shit, River had pushed him back into the nearest bedroom, shut the door, and the kiss had turned into something more, hands tangled in hair, the two of them kissing and rutting against each other until they were coming in their jeans. Really unromantic. Nothing more than getting off, and River had left before Connor could even get his breath back. Not the best of outcomes. Then River had ignored him. Not returning texts, no more study sessions in the library, and he’d even missed the last lecture of the semester.



All of that told Connor on thing: River wasn’t interested in anything more with him. But that didn’t mean they weren’t still friends. They sat in silence for a few minutes, River’s face still buried in his hands, and he was clearly crying.



What the hell should I do now?

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.



RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.



The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.



She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below:

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Hosted By Signal Boost Promotions

 

Review Tour & Giveaway: Neutral Zone by RJ Scott & VL Locey

 
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Length: 40,000 words approx.
 
Harrisburg Railers Series
 
Book #1 – Changing Lines – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #2 – First Season – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 – Deep Edge – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 – Poke Check – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #5 – Last Defense – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #6 – Goal Line – Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Blurb
 

Tennant Rowe has it all, a boyfriend he adores, a loving family, and a career on the rise. He’s sure of his place in the world, and the future can only get brighter. Then one night, in a flash of skates and sticks, life changes forever. Getting back on the ice is Ten’s priority, and experts tell him that it’s just a matter of time.



Jared watches his lover fall in more ways than one, and when tragedy strikes, even the strongest of relationships are tested. Ten is strong, but Jared has to be stronger to help the man who holds his heart. Only, he has to admit that maybe it isn’t just him who can make Ten whole again.



Jared and Ten’s love is forever, but the rocky path to the romantic Christmas Jared had planned may be hard to travel.


Jenn Review

 

4.5 Stars

I have been waiting for this story and it’s exactly what I was hoping for! I have really enjoyed this series and this story is a perfect addition! It’s part holiday sweetness and part update on Ten after his injury! There was a perfect blend of struggle and sweet and I loved every word. I also loved having Stan and his awesome Russian attitude back! If you’re a fan of this series this is an absolute must read!

 


Excerpt



Ten



Karma. It’s a real bitch. Just ask anyone.



I’d left my man and my team behind in Harrisburg and flown to—get this—fucking Tucson, Arizona, to begin treatment for my traumatic head injury.



The same city the Raptors played in.



I could open the blinds in my room here in the Draper Neurological Rehabilitation and Performance Center and see the glistening mirrored sides of the Santa Catalina Arena. Funny shit right there. Four blocks over, the Raptors were on the ice for morning skate, and I was here, trying to get my brain healed enough so I could maybe play my game again someday.



Shit, right now I’d be happy to be able to speak or read normally.



“Ho, ho, ho,” I growled, closing the drapes, then pulling my sunglasses off and tossing them to the bed. Living behind sunglasses and blinds sucked. Headaches sucked. Slurred speech sucked. Seeing the pity in the eyes of my boyfriend and family and teammates sucked. Christmas with sand and cactus sucked. I wanted to cry. I wanted to be back home with Mads, decorating our tree and shaking my presents. I wanted to be shopping for gifts for my boyfriend, my mother and father, for my brothers, and for Stan and Adler and all the Railers. I wanted things to be the way they had been before that night. Tears threatened, but I held them in. Crying only made my head hurt worse.



So, I padded out of my room and made my way to breakfast and the first of several rounds of rehab I’d be facing today. I’d been here one day and had come to realize that my brain was now as well-known with the neurologists here as my face was back in Harrisburg. This was the place for athletes to come when they were battling CTE-related brain issues. Most of the men here were older, retired players, lots of football players. I mean lots of them. I’d met three other hockey players so far, all retired, all fighting to keep a step ahead of the disease taking over their brains. Sometimes, late at night, when I was lying in bed, I’d get scared for myself and all the other guys on my team. I worried about Mads. God knows how many concussions he’d had when he was playing. Add that to his heart shit and… well, I worried about stuff now. Lots more stuff than I had before the night my head met the ice, sans helmet.



The facility held a hundred and fifty people, and not all of us were athletes. Lots of patients had come here after car accidents or other catastrophic injuries. There were head injuries and spinal cord injuries being healed. The staff seemed nice, confident in their ability to nurse me back to my old self or as close as we could get. The halls were bright and airy, the food excellent, and the medical staff top-notch. And yes, it was expensive and elite and the cream of the crop. Which was why Mads had stubbornly pushed me into coming here after my initial rehab had been completed. Two weeks at the facility, a couple of weeks back home for the holidays, then back for another four weeks. Then maybe we’d talk about hockey.



“Hey, you’re Tennant Rowe, right?”



I skidded to a halt outside one of a dozen sun-rooms. As though people in Arizona didn’t get enough sun just stepping outside? They needed to make rooms for sun? A tall, burly black man about my age ran at me, hand out. I smiled up at him, trying to pull some information about him from my cloudy memory banks.



“I’m Declan Fidler, cornerback for the Temple Owls.”



“Ah, cool, hey man.” We shook hands. God, he was cute. Short hair and a flashy smile, big wide shoulders and inkwork all over his arms. “Sorry to see you here though, dude.”



“Yeah, I know that.” He ran a hand over his hair. “First game of the season too.”



“That sucks,” I said, then released his hand. “I was on my way to the dining hall.”



“I could eat if you want some company.”



“Totally. Be nice to have someone to talk to who’s under forty.”



“I feel that.”



He joined me on the walk to the dining hall, which looked nothing like the hospital cafeteria I’d been expecting when I first saw it yesterday. This place was upmarket. Round tables with cloth covers, thick royal-blue carpeting, windows that ran floor to ceiling, flowering plants in the corners, and a wait staff.



“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this place,” I murmured as I followed Declan to a table by the windows.



“I feel the same way,” he said as we took our seats. “I mean, I grew up wealthy, my father’s the chief justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, and I was still blown away.”



“That’s impressive. Did he…?” My brain went totally blank, and I scrambled to find the proper word. “Push. Yeah, did he push to get you in here?” I winced at the slip.



Fuck this shit. Really. Push? How fucking hard it is to recall a word like push?



An older woman in a tidy uniform filled our water glasses, then asked if she could have our room numbers. All the meals here were prepared by nutritionists with an eye to the patients’—athletes in my case—unique needs.



“Big-time. He was adamant about me coming here after the initial rehab. Said that this place would do things to counter the damage that no regular rehab could do. You here for CRT?”



“I uhm…” and that skip again. Fuck. “Dude, sorry, I’m like…” I tapped my temple.



He reached over the table to take my hand. “Ten, man, do not sweat it. You should have seen me when I got here. Barely able to string four words together. Sometimes I still trip up, just like that. But it’s all good. We’re tough motherfuckers. We’ll train our brains.”



“Yeah, train the brains. Cool.”



He gave my hand a squeeze and then released it. “So CRT?”



Our food was served, my platter loaded with scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, a bowl of oatmeal, and chocolate milk. My meds also sat on my tray. Declan’s food was similar, as were the meds in tiny cups lined up for him.



“Cognitive rehab therapy,” he said before shaking out his napkin and laying it over his lap. I did the same and tossed down the pills. I had no idea what they were pumping into me, and I truly didn’t care. As long as they got me back on the ice, they could be dumping Soylent green into my body via the milk. Man, that old movie rocked. What I wouldn’t give to be curled up on the couch with Mads watching it again. “Speech, occupation, and physical therapy. You don’t have any big physical issues, do you?”



“Some weakness on the left side, my arm, but it’s getting better. I hardly drop anything now.”



“That’s good. Once the swelling goes down, things tend to get better.” He took a bite from a slice of whole wheat toast. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here eating with you. Cup winner, LGBT crusader. Thanks for doing that, coming out, being proud and gay. I know how hard that is. My family and team have been amazing about my being queer.”



“Excellent. Glad they’re… fuck, I just. Give me a sec. Yeah, uhm, glad it’s good for you. I’m sorry. Sometimes I can go, like, whole days and barely fuck up, and then I’ll hit this patch where my brain glitches out and… shit. Fuck. Okay, I’m going to shut up for a minute and let my neurons… fire or something.”



“It’s fine. I understand.” And he did. I could see it in his eyes. He totally got it because he was living it too.



I wished everyone else in my life could get it as Declan did. We ate in amiable silence, not that heavy, cloaking pity blanket of quietude that my family draped over me every time I fumbled.



Therapy followed that pleasant breakfast, hours of it. Doctors and nurses, therapists, reading and tests and poking and prodding. Weights and treadmills and medicine balls. Shoving tiny pegs into tinier holes, pet therapy which was actually cool because who didn’t love a dog kiss? Speech therapy was last, and I tanked at it. Totally blew it to shit with my inability to recall one simple phrase. It made me so mad I flipped the table, sending papers and pencils flying. Then, because I had no clue where that outburst had come from, I felt even shittier.



“Tennant, it’s okay,” the woman, who was some fancy kind of advanced speech therapist, said as we picked up the mess I’d made. “Temper flare-ups are common. It’s frustrating not to be able to express yourself. We see that frequently in stroke victims.”



“That was uncool. Just so uncool. I didn’t… it wasn’t… shit.” I dropped to my ass, hands full of work sheets that looked as if a four-year-old had scribbled them down, buried my face in the papers, and wept.



Julie. Yes! That was her name. Julie sat down beside me, rubbed my back, and told me all kinds of reassuring things.



“I’m kind of done for the day,” I told her, and she let me go. I walked the halls, feeling discouraged and sickened with myself. Once I got back to my room, I called home, needing to hear Jared’s voice. As soon as he picked up, I kind of began babbling. A lot of it wasn’t sensible, and it was garbled because I’d have to stop, think, and then restart. But through all of that, Jared listened and never interrupted. When I was done, I fell back onto the bed, exhausted, battling a headache, and sick to death of myself and my stupid brain.



“Sounds like a rough first day,” Jared said. I rolled to my side, tucking my knees up, my gaze on that shiny arena where the Raptors were playing hockey right now. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come out? I can get a hotel room.”



“No, you need to work. The team needs you.”



“You need me as well, Tennant.”



“No, I got this. You can’t do this for me, Mads. Neither can Ryker or Brady or Jamie or my mother. It’s just…” I exhaled through pursed lips. “It’s so much harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew it would be hard but fuck sake, I couldn’t recall simple words. How will I ever be able to play if I can’t…” I stopped and calmed myself down. “I hate that this happened. I hate Aarni so much for doing this to me, Jared. I never thought I could ever hate anyone.”



“I know, babe. I wish you’d reconsider and let me come out there.”



He sounded as sick at heart as I was. And truthfully, in that moment, I was close to telling him to fly out. I so needed his arms around me.



“Tell me you love me.”



“I love you.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Do you want me to come out? Just say the word.”



I sat up slowly to avoid a head-rush and the pain that went along with those. “No, I’m good.” I pushed to my feet and went to the window. The sun was setting now, the mirrored sides of the Santa Catalina Arena glowing scarlet and pink. “I’m a tough camper. My Mom said that to me the first time I went to hockey camp.”



“Yeah? How old were you? Five months old or so?”



That made me chuckle. “Nah man, I was like six. And this camp was in Buffalo. I wanted to go so bad. I mean, I can be kind of stubborn when I want something.”



“I’m well aware of that fact,” he replied. Was he sitting down or pacing? Probably pacing because he was tension-riddled over me. “You were persistent about us.”



“Damn right I was. I knew we’d be good.” I touched the pane of glass as a smile of remembrance played on my lips. “I went to that camp, and as soon as my folks dropped me off, I wanted to come home. But Mom wouldn’t let me. She said I had to be a tough camper and that once the homesickness wore off, I’d be glad I stayed.”



“Were you?”



“Yeah, I loved it. Scored my first goal against Tommy Wayfarer. He got mad and cried.” The lights of Tucson began to flicker to life. Someone walked by my door humming Santa Claus is Coming to Town. “I’ll be okay. I just have to score my first goal here.”



“You will.”



“Yeah, I will. So, tell me about morning skate. How did the lines look?”



We talked about the Railers and about Ryker and Declan, my new therapy buddy. We talked about old movies and new songs. We talked for hours. Darkness had blanketed the city when I dozed off on him. I woke up a second later, phone still to my ear, my boyfriend chuckling.



“Wow, you snored yourself awake,” Mads said, then groaned, rising to his feet I assumed.



“Shit, yeah, I fell asleep.” A yawn rolled out of me. I flopped to my side on the bed, my sight on the desert sky over Tucson.



“I need to turn in too,” he said around a yawn.



“Yeah, you’re a couple of hours ahead of us. I’ll call you tomorrow at the same time. I love you, Mads.”



“I love you too, Ten. And your mother was right; you are a tough camper. You’ll begin to see improvement, I know you. You won’t stop until you do.”



“Thanks, Coach.”



“Wiseass.”



“I miss our goodnight kisses.” My eyes were so heavy I could barely keep them open.



“You’ll get plenty when you get home.”



“Mm, loving sounds good.”



“Yes, it does. Get some rest. Heal. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”



“Night,” I mumbled, ended the call, and then fell into an exhausted but fitful sleep. The bed was too hard, too narrow, and far too lacking in Jared Madsen’s big, broad body.

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.

RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below:

USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.

 


 

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Release Blitz & Giveaway: Neutral Zone by RJ Scott & VL Locey

We are excited to share the release blitz for Neutral Zone by RJ Scott & VL Locey! I love this series and have been so looking forward to this book! Make sure to check out the great excerpt  and  giveaway we have today!
 
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Length: 40,000 words approx.
 
Harrisburg Railers Series
 
Book #1 – Changing Lines – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #2 – First Season – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 – Deep Edge – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 – Poke Check – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #5 – Last Defense – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #6 – Goal Line – Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Blurb
 

Tennant Rowe has it all, a boyfriend he adores, a loving family, and a career on the rise. He’s sure of his place in the world, and the future can only get brighter. Then one night, in a flash of skates and sticks, life changes forever. Getting back on the ice is Ten’s priority, and experts tell him that it’s just a matter of time.



Jared watches his lover fall in more ways than one, and when tragedy strikes, even the strongest of relationships are tested. Ten is strong, but Jared has to be stronger to help the man who holds his heart. Only, he has to admit that maybe it isn’t just him who can make Ten whole again.



Jared and Ten’s love is forever, but the rocky path to the romantic Christmas Jared had planned may be hard to travel.

 
Excerpt



Ten



Karma. It’s a real bitch. Just ask anyone.



I’d left my man and my team behind in Harrisburg and flown to—get this—fucking Tucson, Arizona, to begin treatment for my traumatic head injury.



The same city the Raptors played in.



I could open the blinds in my room here in the Draper Neurological Rehabilitation and Performance Center and see the glistening mirrored sides of the Santa Catalina Arena. Funny shit right there. Four blocks over, the Raptors were on the ice for morning skate, and I was here, trying to get my brain healed enough so I could maybe play my game again someday.



Shit, right now I’d be happy to be able to speak or read normally.



“Ho, ho, ho,” I growled, closing the drapes, then pulling my sunglasses off and tossing them to the bed. Living behind sunglasses and blinds sucked. Headaches sucked. Slurred speech sucked. Seeing the pity in the eyes of my boyfriend and family and teammates sucked. Christmas with sand and cactus sucked. I wanted to cry. I wanted to be back home with Mads, decorating our tree and shaking my presents. I wanted to be shopping for gifts for my boyfriend, my mother and father, for my brothers, and for Stan and Adler and all the Railers. I wanted things to be the way they had been before that night. Tears threatened, but I held them in. Crying only made my head hurt worse.



So, I padded out of my room and made my way to breakfast and the first of several rounds of rehab I’d be facing today. I’d been here one day and had come to realize that my brain was now as well-known with the neurologists here as my face was back in Harrisburg. This was the place for athletes to come when they were battling CTE-related brain issues. Most of the men here were older, retired players, lots of football players. I mean lots of them. I’d met three other hockey players so far, all retired, all fighting to keep a step ahead of the disease taking over their brains. Sometimes, late at night, when I was lying in bed, I’d get scared for myself and all the other guys on my team. I worried about Mads. God knows how many concussions he’d had when he was playing. Add that to his heart shit and… well, I worried about stuff now. Lots more stuff than I had before the night my head met the ice, sans helmet.



The facility held a hundred and fifty people, and not all of us were athletes. Lots of patients had come here after car accidents or other catastrophic injuries. There were head injuries and spinal cord injuries being healed. The staff seemed nice, confident in their ability to nurse me back to my old self or as close as we could get. The halls were bright and airy, the food excellent, and the medical staff top-notch. And yes, it was expensive and elite and the cream of the crop. Which was why Mads had stubbornly pushed me into coming here after my initial rehab had been completed. Two weeks at the facility, a couple of weeks back home for the holidays, then back for another four weeks. Then maybe we’d talk about hockey.



“Hey, you’re Tennant Rowe, right?”



I skidded to a halt outside one of a dozen sun-rooms. As though people in Arizona didn’t get enough sun just stepping outside? They needed to make rooms for sun? A tall, burly black man about my age ran at me, hand out. I smiled up at him, trying to pull some information about him from my cloudy memory banks.



“I’m Declan Fidler, cornerback for the Temple Owls.”



“Ah, cool, hey man.” We shook hands. God, he was cute. Short hair and a flashy smile, big wide shoulders and inkwork all over his arms. “Sorry to see you here though, dude.”



“Yeah, I know that.” He ran a hand over his hair. “First game of the season too.”



“That sucks,” I said, then released his hand. “I was on my way to the dining hall.”



“I could eat if you want some company.”



“Totally. Be nice to have someone to talk to who’s under forty.”



“I feel that.”



He joined me on the walk to the dining hall, which looked nothing like the hospital cafeteria I’d been expecting when I first saw it yesterday. This place was upmarket. Round tables with cloth covers, thick royal-blue carpeting, windows that ran floor to ceiling, flowering plants in the corners, and a wait staff.



“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this place,” I murmured as I followed Declan to a table by the windows.



“I feel the same way,” he said as we took our seats. “I mean, I grew up wealthy, my father’s the chief justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, and I was still blown away.”



“That’s impressive. Did he…?” My brain went totally blank, and I scrambled to find the proper word. “Push. Yeah, did he push to get you in here?” I winced at the slip.



Fuck this shit. Really. Push? How fucking hard it is to recall a word like push?



An older woman in a tidy uniform filled our water glasses, then asked if she could have our room numbers. All the meals here were prepared by nutritionists with an eye to the patients’—athletes in my case—unique needs.



“Big-time. He was adamant about me coming here after the initial rehab. Said that this place would do things to counter the damage that no regular rehab could do. You here for CRT?”



“I uhm…” and that skip again. Fuck. “Dude, sorry, I’m like…” I tapped my temple.



He reached over the table to take my hand. “Ten, man, do not sweat it. You should have seen me when I got here. Barely able to string four words together. Sometimes I still trip up, just like that. But it’s all good. We’re tough motherfuckers. We’ll train our brains.”



“Yeah, train the brains. Cool.”



He gave my hand a squeeze and then released it. “So CRT?”



Our food was served, my platter loaded with scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, a bowl of oatmeal, and chocolate milk. My meds also sat on my tray. Declan’s food was similar, as were the meds in tiny cups lined up for him.



“Cognitive rehab therapy,” he said before shaking out his napkin and laying it over his lap. I did the same and tossed down the pills. I had no idea what they were pumping into me, and I truly didn’t care. As long as they got me back on the ice, they could be dumping Soylent green into my body via the milk. Man, that old movie rocked. What I wouldn’t give to be curled up on the couch with Mads watching it again. “Speech, occupation, and physical therapy. You don’t have any big physical issues, do you?”



“Some weakness on the left side, my arm, but it’s getting better. I hardly drop anything now.”



“That’s good. Once the swelling goes down, things tend to get better.” He took a bite from a slice of whole wheat toast. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here eating with you. Cup winner, LGBT crusader. Thanks for doing that, coming out, being proud and gay. I know how hard that is. My family and team have been amazing about my being queer.”



“Excellent. Glad they’re… fuck, I just. Give me a sec. Yeah, uhm, glad it’s good for you. I’m sorry. Sometimes I can go, like, whole days and barely fuck up, and then I’ll hit this patch where my brain glitches out and… shit. Fuck. Okay, I’m going to shut up for a minute and let my neurons… fire or something.”



“It’s fine. I understand.” And he did. I could see it in his eyes. He totally got it because he was living it too.



I wished everyone else in my life could get it as Declan did. We ate in amiable silence, not that heavy, cloaking pity blanket of quietude that my family draped over me every time I fumbled.



Therapy followed that pleasant breakfast, hours of it. Doctors and nurses, therapists, reading and tests and poking and prodding. Weights and treadmills and medicine balls. Shoving tiny pegs into tinier holes, pet therapy which was actually cool because who didn’t love a dog kiss? Speech therapy was last, and I tanked at it. Totally blew it to shit with my inability to recall one simple phrase. It made me so mad I flipped the table, sending papers and pencils flying. Then, because I had no clue where that outburst had come from, I felt even shittier.



“Tennant, it’s okay,” the woman, who was some fancy kind of advanced speech therapist, said as we picked up the mess I’d made. “Temper flare-ups are common. It’s frustrating not to be able to express yourself. We see that frequently in stroke victims.”



“That was uncool. Just so uncool. I didn’t… it wasn’t… shit.” I dropped to my ass, hands full of work sheets that looked as if a four-year-old had scribbled them down, buried my face in the papers, and wept.



Julie. Yes! That was her name. Julie sat down beside me, rubbed my back, and told me all kinds of reassuring things.



“I’m kind of done for the day,” I told her, and she let me go. I walked the halls, feeling discouraged and sickened with myself. Once I got back to my room, I called home, needing to hear Jared’s voice. As soon as he picked up, I kind of began babbling. A lot of it wasn’t sensible, and it was garbled because I’d have to stop, think, and then restart. But through all of that, Jared listened and never interrupted. When I was done, I fell back onto the bed, exhausted, battling a headache, and sick to death of myself and my stupid brain.



“Sounds like a rough first day,” Jared said. I rolled to my side, tucking my knees up, my gaze on that shiny arena where the Raptors were playing hockey right now. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come out? I can get a hotel room.”



“No, you need to work. The team needs you.”



“You need me as well, Tennant.”



“No, I got this. You can’t do this for me, Mads. Neither can Ryker or Brady or Jamie or my mother. It’s just…” I exhaled through pursed lips. “It’s so much harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew it would be hard but fuck sake, I couldn’t recall simple words. How will I ever be able to play if I can’t…” I stopped and calmed myself down. “I hate that this happened. I hate Aarni so much for doing this to me, Jared. I never thought I could ever hate anyone.”



“I know, babe. I wish you’d reconsider and let me come out there.”



He sounded as sick at heart as I was. And truthfully, in that moment, I was close to telling him to fly out. I so needed his arms around me.



“Tell me you love me.”



“I love you.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Do you want me to come out? Just say the word.”



I sat up slowly to avoid a head-rush and the pain that went along with those. “No, I’m good.” I pushed to my feet and went to the window. The sun was setting now, the mirrored sides of the Santa Catalina Arena glowing scarlet and pink. “I’m a tough camper. My Mom said that to me the first time I went to hockey camp.”



“Yeah? How old were you? Five months old or so?”



That made me chuckle. “Nah man, I was like six. And this camp was in Buffalo. I wanted to go so bad. I mean, I can be kind of stubborn when I want something.”



“I’m well aware of that fact,” he replied. Was he sitting down or pacing? Probably pacing because he was tension-riddled over me. “You were persistent about us.”



“Damn right I was. I knew we’d be good.” I touched the pane of glass as a smile of remembrance played on my lips. “I went to that camp, and as soon as my folks dropped me off, I wanted to come home. But Mom wouldn’t let me. She said I had to be a tough camper and that once the homesickness wore off, I’d be glad I stayed.”



“Were you?”



“Yeah, I loved it. Scored my first goal against Tommy Wayfarer. He got mad and cried.” The lights of Tucson began to flicker to life. Someone walked by my door humming Santa Claus is Coming to Town. “I’ll be okay. I just have to score my first goal here.”



“You will.”



“Yeah, I will. So, tell me about morning skate. How did the lines look?”



We talked about the Railers and about Ryker and Declan, my new therapy buddy. We talked about old movies and new songs. We talked for hours. Darkness had blanketed the city when I dozed off on him. I woke up a second later, phone still to my ear, my boyfriend chuckling.



“Wow, you snored yourself awake,” Mads said, then groaned, rising to his feet I assumed.



“Shit, yeah, I fell asleep.” A yawn rolled out of me. I flopped to my side on the bed, my sight on the desert sky over Tucson.



“I need to turn in too,” he said around a yawn.



“Yeah, you’re a couple of hours ahead of us. I’ll call you tomorrow at the same time. I love you, Mads.”



“I love you too, Ten. And your mother was right; you are a tough camper. You’ll begin to see improvement, I know you. You won’t stop until you do.”



“Thanks, Coach.”



“Wiseass.”



“I miss our goodnight kisses.” My eyes were so heavy I could barely keep them open.



“You’ll get plenty when you get home.”



“Mm, loving sounds good.”



“Yes, it does. Get some rest. Heal. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”



“Night,” I mumbled, ended the call, and then fell into an exhausted but fitful sleep. The bed was too hard, too narrow, and far too lacking in Jared Madsen’s big, broad body.

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.

RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below:

USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.

 

 

 

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Review Tour with Excerpt & GIVEAWAY: Second Chance Ranch (Montana #5) by RJ Scott

 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Length: 55,300 words approx.
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Montana Series
 
Book #1 – Crooked Tree Ranch – Amazon US | Amazon UK 
Book #2 – The Rancher’s Son – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 – A Cowboy’s Home – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 – Snow In Montana – Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Blurb
 

Rob runs to Crooked Tree determined to find a safe place for his nephews. A family for them is the final thing on his list, and then he can vanish completely. Falling for a local paramedic along the way is a disaster in Rob’s otherwise perfect plans.



Paramedic Aaron, the middle of five brothers, would like someone to love. A great believer in fate he is convinced though, that one day he’ll find someone. He just never thought it would be a man in so much pain, or that children would be part of the package.



Rob is ready to leave. Aaron wants him to stay. Their love has an expiry date, and it’s tearing them apart. Can they find a way to save what they have?



The Final book in the Montana Series

Jenn Review

5 Stars

I have really enjoyed this series, loved every one of these couples and I think this may be the most emotional of the series! I was hooked on Rob and Aaron’s story right from the start and man did RJ Scott deliver the feels! Rob heads to Crooked Tree Ranch to try to find a life for his two young nephews after discovering that his sister has died and he is now their guardian. He meets Aaron and there’s attraction and a connection, but he doesn’t have time for that. He is there to convince Justin that the boys belong there. Aaron is persistent though and won’t let Rob walk away from him, even if it’s just for a good time.

I love Aaron’s good heart, he’s such a wonderful guy and shows Rob that there can be happiness in life, even as grumpy and resistant as Rob is. There is a lot of emotion in this story as Rob’s true struggles are revealed my heart broke for him. He’s led a cold life, trying to keep good people safe and when he finally finds the person who can make him happy, along with his adorable two nephews, he doesn’t think he can actually have that happiness. And then it’s time to reveal his truth to Aaron, and Justin, Aaron won’t give up on him though, and truly stands by his side.

I adored this book and the emotional roller coaster it was and I so wanted Rob and Aaron to find the HEA they deserved. I don’t want to spoil the story, so I’m going to say that this book and this whole series is absolutely fantastic and one of my favorites! I’m sad that this is the last book in the series, but I loved the way it all came together for all of these characters!

August 30 – Cdawgz Reads, Gay Book Reviews, OMG Reads, Xtreme DelusionsSeptember 3 BFD Blog, September 5My Fiction Nook, September 7The Geekery Book Review, MM Good Book Reviews, September 10Mean Girls Luv Books, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Wicked Reads, September 12Kimmers’ Erotic Book Banter, Reading In Sarah’s Corner, September 14Two Chicks Obsessed, Southern Babes Book Blog, Jim’s Reading Room, Nicole’s Book Musings, September 17Momma Says: To Read or Not To Read, Wicked Faerie’s Tales, The Way She Reads, Sexy Erotic Xciting, September 19Making It Happen, Padme’s Library, September 21Mirrigold, Lillian Francis, Bayou Book Junkie, Virginia Lee

 
Excerpt
 
Chapter 1



Rob Brady knew three things. His sister was dead, he was the guardian to her two boys, and he was stuck in Hell.



And why am I fixating on Hell?



Oh yeah, the room, the kids, the crushing grief of absolutely fucking everything.



If Hell was a small, airless room with no windows, a flickering light, and two utterly silent children staring at him as if he’d personally murdered their mother.



Oh, and a thin-lipped woman from Child Protection Services looking at him the same way.



Of course, he hadn’t killed his sister because he only ever took out the bad guys. With ruthless efficiency, he’d carved out the poison in the US and kept its citizens safe. Most people would’ve described him as an assassin, but he was more than that; the last resort when normal lines of defense failed.



At least, he used to be until he caught a bullet things went pear-shaped.



“How long have they been on their own?” Rob Brady didn’t know what else to ask. He wanted to be angry with the DCFS but how could he be? Instead, he wavered between anger and guilt, and it was guilt that was winning.



“Mr. Brady, they were never on their own.”



“My sister—” He stopped talking when he realized he was just about to state how long ago his sister died when her children were sitting right there in the room. Lowering his tone, he then turned to Sylvia from the DCFS, efficient and steady, and just ever so slightly pissed at him. “A year. They’ve been on their own a year.”



Sylvia inhaled sharply and clutched her folders to her chest.



“And for a little less than that, we have tried to track down their uncle and been unable to find anything.”



“I know. I get that.” Anyone trying to find him would reach several dead-ends whichever way they went. First of all the navy and his time in the SEALs, then when he joined the team combatting mainland terrorism. At every turn, his existence was classified, and in the end, he’d become nothing more than a ghost. “That isn’t my point.”



Sylvia tapped a finger on the files in a steady rhythm. “Then please, can you enlighten me as to what exactly is your point?”



He opened the door and gestured for her to go into the hallway, following her out and shutting it behind them. He had questions and didn’t want to ask them in front of his nephews.



“Why has no one adopted them? Why don’t they have a forever home with a new family?”



“Because your sister’s intention was that you would take the boys. It’s explicitly stated in every legal form we have, and it was her dying wish.”



“But she couldn’t have known I would ever come back. Or that I was even alive…” He floundered for something to say. He’d come back to town on the off chance he’d see what was left of his extended family from a distance, and instead, he’d learned his sister was dead, after losing a battle with cancer, that there was no father in the picture, and that his nephews were in the system.



“Nonetheless, they are legally your responsibility. Given you worked so hard to get authorization from Governor Chilton, something I’ve never seen before, along with psych evals that no normal person would have access to, you are now in a position to leave with your nephews.”



The minute he’d heard about the boys, he’d realized he needed to get things done. He’d called in favors, had people who owed him create a backstory so tight he seemed like Mother fucking Teresa, and now he was here. His nephews needed a home, and he thought on his feet because he only had another three good months to put anything in place for them. He wanted them looked after, safe, and so he had one more mission before leaving. He’d have to delay spending his last weeks on a beach in Aruba, sipping cocktails and sleeping with anything that moved.



“I can take them today?” he asked. A small, hesitant part of him wanted her to say no, that there were more details to be ironed out.



“Yes.”



“Now?”



“Yes.” She pursed her lips as if it were against her better judgment. But he’d passed all the checks, and the references were sound, he had the governor’s endorsement. It was done.



“Okay then.”



He pushed back into the room. Bran, the older of his two nephews, stared at him steadily. Toby, the youngest, sniffled and gripped his brother hard. Any ordinary uncle would’ve hugged them close and told them everything was going to be okay. But he wasn’t a regular uncle, and he swore Bran knew that because there was accusation in his eyes.



You don’t even know us; he seemed to be saying.



Was it right for Rob to be taking them from their new foster home? They’d been placed with a family currently fostering six kids, and on the surface, everything seemed okay. He’d done his due diligence, and the parents checked out, but there was a weird vibe in the house, a rule of fear, and he didn’t like it.



He’d stayed alive this long by listening to his instinct, and his gut told him he should take Bran and Toby, that he was the boys’ kin. He also knew where he could find them a better home. In the mountains, with rivers and horses, and a whole group of people who would look out for them.



“Everything will be okay.” Was he reassuring himself or the boys?



If anyone who knew him had seen he was being handed two children to take care of, they’d call the cops.



Of course, he could handle the cops. He’d done it before, but the kids would slow him down. Unless he strapped them to his back and—



“Mr. Brady?”



Sylvia talked to him, or at him, and from her expression, she wasn’t impressed he’d stopped listening.



“Sorry, say again?” He glanced at Toby who was sniffling harder and snuggling deeper into his brother. I should go to Toby and…



And what?



Do what? Say what? Scare the kid rigid by being all up in his face?



“We need an address for our records. Unless you reside with Governor Chilton?” The last she added sarcastically.



Oh yeah, a house, an address, he probably needed those. He’d managed to fool them with his credentials so far, and the recommendation he’d gotten from the governor for a favor owed had cut through the red tape. The address was easy; it was the only place he had on his to-do list, the one where the kids could maybe have a home. He just needed to hire a lawyer, update his will, get Justin to agree to his proposal, and he’d be able to leave without any worries.



“Crooked Tree Ranch, outside of Helena, Montana.”

RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.

RJ is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.

She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit and has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the following links below:

Email RJ (rj@rjscott.co.uk)

 


 

 

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Release Blitz & Giveaway: Second Chance Ranch (Montana # 5) by RJ Scott

 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Length: 55,300 words approx.
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Montana Series
 
Book #1 – Crooked Tree Ranch – Amazon US | Amazon UK 
Book #2 – The Rancher’s Son – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 – A Cowboy’s Home – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 – Snow In Montana – Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Blurb
 

Rob runs to Crooked Tree determined to find a safe place for his nephews. A family for them is the final thing on his list, and then he can vanish completely. Falling for a local paramedic along the way is a disaster in Rob’s otherwise perfect plans.



Paramedic Aaron, the middle of five brothers, would like someone to love. A great believer in fate he is convinced though, that one day he’ll find someone. He just never thought it would be a man in so much pain, or that children would be part of the package.



Rob is ready to leave. Aaron wants him to stay. Their love has an expiry date, and it’s tearing them apart. Can they find a way to save what they have?



The Final book in the Montana Series

 
Excerpt
 
Chapter 1



Rob Brady knew three things. His sister was dead, he was the guardian to her two boys, and he was stuck in Hell.



And why am I fixating on Hell?



Oh yeah, the room, the kids, the crushing grief of absolutely fucking everything.



If Hell was a small, airless room with no windows, a flickering light, and two utterly silent children staring at him as if he’d personally murdered their mother.



Oh, and a thin-lipped woman from Child Protection Services looking at him the same way.



Of course, he hadn’t killed his sister because he only ever took out the bad guys. With ruthless efficiency, he’d carved out the poison in the US and kept its citizens safe. Most people would’ve described him as an assassin, but he was more than that; the last resort when normal lines of defense failed.



At least, he used to be until he caught a bullet things went pear-shaped.



“How long have they been on their own?” Rob Brady didn’t know what else to ask. He wanted to be angry with the DCFS but how could he be? Instead, he wavered between anger and guilt, and it was guilt that was winning.



“Mr. Brady, they were never on their own.”



“My sister—” He stopped talking when he realized he was just about to state how long ago his sister died when her children were sitting right there in the room. Lowering his tone, he then turned to Sylvia from the DCFS, efficient and steady, and just ever so slightly pissed at him. “A year. They’ve been on their own a year.”



Sylvia inhaled sharply and clutched her folders to her chest.



“And for a little less than that, we have tried to track down their uncle and been unable to find anything.”



“I know. I get that.” Anyone trying to find him would reach several dead-ends whichever way they went. First of all the navy and his time in the SEALs, then when he joined the team combatting mainland terrorism. At every turn, his existence was classified, and in the end, he’d become nothing more than a ghost. “That isn’t my point.”



Sylvia tapped a finger on the files in a steady rhythm. “Then please, can you enlighten me as to what exactly is your point?”



He opened the door and gestured for her to go into the hallway, following her out and shutting it behind them. He had questions and didn’t want to ask them in front of his nephews.



“Why has no one adopted them? Why don’t they have a forever home with a new family?”



“Because your sister’s intention was that you would take the boys. It’s explicitly stated in every legal form we have, and it was her dying wish.”



“But she couldn’t have known I would ever come back. Or that I was even alive…” He floundered for something to say. He’d come back to town on the off chance he’d see what was left of his extended family from a distance, and instead, he’d learned his sister was dead, after losing a battle with cancer, that there was no father in the picture, and that his nephews were in the system.



“Nonetheless, they are legally your responsibility. Given you worked so hard to get authorization from Governor Chilton, something I’ve never seen before, along with psych evals that no normal person would have access to, you are now in a position to leave with your nephews.”



The minute he’d heard about the boys, he’d realized he needed to get things done. He’d called in favors, had people who owed him create a backstory so tight he seemed like Mother fucking Teresa, and now he was here. His nephews needed a home, and he thought on his feet because he only had another three good months to put anything in place for them. He wanted them looked after, safe, and so he had one more mission before leaving. He’d have to delay spending his last weeks on a beach in Aruba, sipping cocktails and sleeping with anything that moved.



“I can take them today?” he asked. A small, hesitant part of him wanted her to say no, that there were more details to be ironed out.



“Yes.”



“Now?”



“Yes.” She pursed her lips as if it were against her better judgment. But he’d passed all the checks, and the references were sound, he had the governor’s endorsement. It was done.



“Okay then.”



He pushed back into the room. Bran, the older of his two nephews, stared at him steadily. Toby, the youngest, sniffled and gripped his brother hard. Any ordinary uncle would’ve hugged them close and told them everything was going to be okay. But he wasn’t a regular uncle, and he swore Bran knew that because there was accusation in his eyes.



You don’t even know us; he seemed to be saying.



Was it right for Rob to be taking them from their new foster home? They’d been placed with a family currently fostering six kids, and on the surface, everything seemed okay. He’d done his due diligence, and the parents checked out, but there was a weird vibe in the house, a rule of fear, and he didn’t like it.



He’d stayed alive this long by listening to his instinct, and his gut told him he should take Bran and Toby, that he was the boys’ kin. He also knew where he could find them a better home. In the mountains, with rivers and horses, and a whole group of people who would look out for them.



“Everything will be okay.” Was he reassuring himself or the boys?



If anyone who knew him had seen he was being handed two children to take care of, they’d call the cops.



Of course, he could handle the cops. He’d done it before, but the kids would slow him down. Unless he strapped them to his back and—



“Mr. Brady?”



Sylvia talked to him, or at him, and from her expression, she wasn’t impressed he’d stopped listening.



“Sorry, say again?” He glanced at Toby who was sniffling harder and snuggling deeper into his brother. I should go to Toby and…



And what?



Do what? Say what? Scare the kid rigid by being all up in his face?



“We need an address for our records. Unless you reside with Governor Chilton?” The last she added sarcastically.



Oh yeah, a house, an address, he probably needed those. He’d managed to fool them with his credentials so far, and the recommendation he’d gotten from the governor for a favor owed had cut through the red tape. The address was easy; it was the only place he had on his to-do list, the one where the kids could maybe have a home. He just needed to hire a lawyer, update his will, get Justin to agree to his proposal, and he’d be able to leave without any worries.



“Crooked Tree Ranch, outside of Helena, Montana.”

RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.

RJ is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.

She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit and has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the following links below:

Email RJ (rj@rjscott.co.uk)

 

 

 

 

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Review Tour & GIVEAWAY: Goal Line (Harisburg Railers #6) by RJ Scott & V.L. Locey

 

 
Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Length: 54,000 words approx.
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Harrisburg Railers Series
 
Book #1 – Changing Lines – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #2 – First Season – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 – Deep Edge – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 – Poke Check – Amazon UK | Amazon UK
Book #5 – Last Defense – Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Blurb
 

Fear and sadness mark Bryan’s life, can Gatlin show him that you have to trust before you can love?



Gatlin Pearce is creeping up on thirty-eight and is still single. It’s not that he wants to be alone, it’s just that he’s too damn old to be in clubs filled with glittery gay boys who can’t even tell him who the Rolling Stones are.



Better to just spend his evenings at Hard Score Ink – his tattoo and artwork shop – creating masterpieces on human flesh, listening to the Railers games, and nursing a cold beer.



His solitary life is about to end when Bryan Delaney, the new Railers backup goalie, shows up at his shop looking for new artwork for his helmet. There’s some sort of sad story in those beautiful eyes of Bryan’s, and Gatlin finds himself more than a little infatuated with the tender new goalie.



Bryan Delaney leaves home at fifteen to live with a billet family. He just wishes that he could have escaped his alcoholic father and strictly devout mother earlier. Drafted to the Arizona Raptors he finds a new family, and his first love affair even if that relationship is marked with violence.



Being traded to the Railers is a shock to the system but the team isn’t like any other he’s ever played on and they truly seem to care about him. It’s only when he meets artist Gatlin, with their shared love of music and hockey, that he realizes how hard it is to escape the past.


Jenn Review

4 Stars

Oh my goodness, my heart just hurt for Bryan and right from the start I just wanted him to find the person he truly deserves! He captured my heart immediately. I always love a new addition to this series, and this is a really good one. Gaitlin is the perfect guy for Bryan, patient and loving and they have a great story with some major twists!

Bryan was just traded to the Railers and it’s a great opportunity for him, although he still hears his craptastic boyfriend telling him not to be too disappointed when he fails. Yeah, he’s junk, but he’s in Bryan’s head but leave it to the Railers to show him how a real team works, on and off the ice. Gatlin, oh he is something special, he’s a bit older and has come to terms with single life, until Bryan walks into his shop and he sees something special behind his sad eyes.

These two don’t have the easiest start, but it’s worth it! Bryan has to learn that there are good people, who can care for each other with love and gentleness. Gatlin is right there to show him too, to give him love and strength and help him deal with the pain of his past. I adored him, his patience with Bryan just melted my heart! The authors throw in a pretty surprising twist as well, I’m SO curious to see how that will play out. It was great to have the team all back together, I love this group and how they love each other. Bryan and Gatlin are an emotional addition and I love them just as much too!

 



August 8Jessie G, OMG Reads, Gay Media Reviews, We Three Queens, Urban Smoothie Read, Xtreme Delusions, Reading In Sarah’s Corner, August 10Love My Reads, Mainely Stories, The Geekery Book Review, August 15Love Unchained Book Reviews, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, MM Good Book Reviews, August 17Making It Happen, Nerdy Dirty & Flirty, Bookaholic & Kindle, August 20Open Mind For A Different View, My Fiction Nook, Wicked Faerie’s Tales & Reviews, August 22Drops Of Ink, Padme’s Library, Sarandipity, August 27MM Midnight Cafe, Wicked Reads, August 29Book Lovers 4Ever, August 31Mirrigold, Bayou Book Junkie, Lillian Francis



Excerpt



Keep your eye on Ten, he’s trouble.



That was all the text said, and I re-read it a few times as if more words would suddenly appear.



I don’t know why I looked for affection in any text that Aarni sent me because, in my kind-of-boyfriend’s own words, he wasn’t the demonstrative type. And he would always point out that someone could get hold of my phone. Then they would know that Aarni Lankinen, the villain of the Arizona Raptors, wasn’t everything he made himself out to be, that he wasn’t the playboy who fucked every woman within his reach. That he had a boyfriend on the side, and that it was me.



The phone rang, and I answered as soon as I saw his name. Aarni wasn’t the most patient guy on earth, and he liked it when I was fast to respond.



“Did you get my text?” Aarni asked without preamble.



“I did.”



“Don’t let me down now.”



I got the feeling, as he laughed, that he expected me to do that very thing. I still wasn’t sure what would count as letting him down. But given the kind of person I was—clumsy, quiet and only really focused when I was dressed for hockey—I kind of expected to fuck up.



The Arizona Raptors had chosen me in the 2014 draft, not long after my eighteenth birthday. I was the second highest ranking goaltender drafted that year, something to be proud of, I guess. But I’d not managed to stay up at NHL level, spending the rest of the time in the Raptors’ development team in Tucson. Until last year, when I’d actually been a starting goalie after both main goalies had been injured.



I hadn’t been stellar, and Arizona put me on waivers, leaving me vulnerable to being picked up by who the hell ever. My confidence had been rocked. I was a solid goalie for the development team, but the minute I got up to the primary team, NHL level, I choked. Why the hell did the Railers even want someone who hadn’t lived up to their early promise? I assumed I’d attend this training camp, and that would be it. They’d push me down to the Railers’ development team, and there I would stay.



Which wasn’t a bad thing, except they’d taken me from Arizona and from Aarni and it was the first time I’d been really on my own.



“Hello? Are you even listening to me?” Aarni snapped.



“Of course, I won’t let you down,” I lied.



I’m a good goalie, I stop pucks, I can be strong and focused and stay in my own head to track the plays in front of me.

Still, Aarni knew about me what I knew about myself; I’d choke at NHL level just as I had for the majority of my time with the Raptors.



I’m not ready. I should go back down to the minors.



“Also, don’t get comfortable there. They’re not going to keep you for long.”



“I know.”



“And don’t forget what assholes the Railers are. Don’t trust them, particularly wonder-boy Rowe. Arrogant fucker.”



I didn’t see Ten as arrogant at all, but then I was basing my assessment on TV interviews, including the one he’d given with Jared when they’d announced their relationship. I’d been proud of Ten and Jared for doing that, and part of me, the dark, hidden, ruined part, was green with envy that they were able to be open with the world.



I’d said that to Aarni, but he’d reacted badly and hadn’t talked to me for three days. His disappointment was a knife in my gut, and I hated every second of it. That was not happening again. He was right. Ten was a Stanley Cup Champion, a superstar, and if there had been NHL players at the Olympics, then he would undoubtedly have been on Team USA. No team would ask him to leave just because he had a boyfriend. It didn’t seem to be hurting the Railers, and they had a growing reputation as being LGBT-friendly.



“Jesus Christ, Bryan, are you even on this phone call?”



I pulled myself back from the edge. Aarni had said something about Ten being arrogant.



“I won’t forget,” I spoke with confidence so he’d realize I was listening.



“And remember I’m not there to watch your back.” He sighed deeply. “I worry there’s no one to look after you when you attract trouble. Especially from defenders like Max van Hellren. Asshole should have been thrown out of that game against us for what he did to me. Fucker lost us the chance at a championship. So fucking pleased he ended up collapsing. He deserved it.”



My chest tightened. Max wasn’t part of the Railers anymore. He’d retired after the cup win, but Aarni was right. There would be other guys there to step up in his place. Aarni had been furious, with a side order of mean, over what Max had done to him, checking him into the boards. But he’d finally calmed down, said he’d show Max what was what the next time the two teams met. He’d been so disappointed when Max had retired.



But Aarni was a good guy. He was the one who’d gotten involved when the bullying on the Raptors had gotten to be too much for me to handle. When the guys in the toxic locker room got on my case. I’d only played a few games at that level with the Raptors and had fucked every single one of them up. They’d hated it, but Aarni had been there for me.



He seemed to know the point when the rest of the team pushed it too far, always stepping in just before I was going to run from the room. He’d helped me so much, but he was back in Arizona, so far away.



“I’ll be okay,” I murmured, fear gripping me again about the kind of things I needed to face with this new team.



“I doubt that.” He sighed. “But you weren’t enough of all that for the Raptors to keep you, so you have no choice, and there’s nothing we can do about it, can we?”



“No.”



He must have heard the desperation in my voice. I hadn’t wanted the Raptors to give up on me, but that was hockey. One day I had woken up in Arizona as the backup to the backup, fucking things up, and the next day, the team had put me on waivers, and I was suddenly in snowy Pennsylvania.



“Good boy,” was all he said, but it was enough.



He hung up, but those two words gave me a shot of steel to my spine, and I settled my breathing before opening the car door. Security had let me right through to the player parking lot, and my Toyota sat right next to a sexy red Porsche. My salary had taken a hike, up to three million for the two-year contract I had here, so I probably needed a new car.



Even if the Railers saw through me and sent me packing, I’d still have enough money to buy a car.



“Hey,” someone called from behind me, and I immediately assumed that I was standing somewhere I shouldn’t have been. The man was in a guard’s uniform, tall, built and smiling at me benignly.



“I’m sorry. They told me to park there.”



“Of course. Bryan Delaney, right?” he asked and extended his hand for me to shake, which I did immediately after wiping the sweaty palm on my jeans.



“Yeah, Bryan,” I said when I realized I hadn’t answered his question.



“Welcome.” He thumbed at himself. “Name’s Pete. They said I needed to keep an eye out for the new guy.”



He dropped my hand, and I forced a smile onto my face, even though my stomach was churning. “Thank you.”



“This way.” He chatted on about the weather, life, hockey and something about his sister who lived in Arizona. By the time he dropped me outside an office, I knew enough about Pete to write a book. Thing is, his chatter stilled my nerves, and I wasn’t going into this room blind. I knew the name on the door, Alain Gagnon, former goalie for Vancouver, and one of the best goalie coaches in the business. I’d skyped with him once in his capacity as Goalie Coach for the Railers after they’d claimed me off waivers. He’d seen me coming to the Railers as a positive thing, a great thing. All I’d seen is my failure at NHL level hockey with the Raptors, and I remembered going back to Aarni and needing to be held.



Of course, Aarni had said he didn’t need to hug me, but he’d reassured me that, however I played, he would always have my back. I’d needed the comfort. His words of advice stayed with me even now.



I just want you to realize what you are and what your place on the team will be. Ten acts friendly, but he won’t care about you like I do. Stan? He’s had some lucky saves, and as for that fucker Van Hellren? You saw what he did to me in our last matchup. I wish you weren’t so naïve, Bryan. It’s unlikely you’ll get many starts, so don’t be disappointed when you get sent down to the minors.



I won’t be disappointed. I’d promised Aarni, and I’d made a vow to myself not to get too excited and involved.

RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.



RJ is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.



She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.



The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit and has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.



She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the following links below:



Email RJ (rj@rjscott.co.uk)


V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, Dr. Who, Torchwood, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, two Jersey steers and a flock of assorted domestic fowl.



When not writing lusty tales, she can be found enjoying her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.


 

Cover Reveal & giveaway: Second Chance Ranch (Montana #5) by RJ Scott

Happy Friday! Today we are excited to share the cover for Second Chance Ranch by RJ Scott! I have loved this series and am excited about this book too! Make sure to check out the great giveaway!
Happy Reading
~Jenn

 

 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
Release Date: August 28 (wide) – August 30 (Amazon & KU)
 
Montana Series
 
Book #1 – Crooked Tree Ranch – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #2 – The Rancher’s Son – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 – A Cowboy’s Home – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 -Snow In Montana – Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Blurb
 
Rob arrives at Crooked Tree determined to find a safe place for his niece and nephew. A family for them is the final thing on his list, and then he can vanish completely. Falling for a local paramedic along the way, is a disaster in Rob’s otherwise perfect plans.
 
Paramedic Aaron, the middle of five brothers, would like someone to love. A great believer in fate he is convinced though, that one day he’ll find someone. He just never thought it would be a man in so much pain, or that children would be part of the package.
 
Rob is ready to leave. Aaron wants him to stay. Their love has an expiry date, and it’s tearing them apart. Can they find a way to save what they have?

 

RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.



RJ is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.



She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.



The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit and has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.



She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the following links below:



Email RJ (rj@rjscott.co.uk)


 

Review Tour, Excerpt & GIVEAWAY: Daniel (Legacy Ranch 3) by RJ Scott

Happy Friday! Today we are excited to be a part of the Review Tour for Daniel by RJ Scott! What an emotional and satisfying journey this series has been! I really enjoyed this book, and the whole series! We’ve got a great excerpt and giveaway too!
Happy Reading!
~Jenn

 

 
Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK – Now available in Kindle Unlimited
 
Length: 51,000 words approx
 
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
 
Legacy Series
 
Kyle – The First Legacy – Amazon US | Amazon UK
Gabriel – The Second Legacy – Amazon US | Amazon UK
 
Blurb
 

Daniel worked hard at college, using coping strategies to shut himself off from any situation that might hurt. But, persistent nightmares and fears for his future drive him to revisit the past. Now Legacy might be the only place to give him a chance at peace.



After the tragic loss of his parents, Corey is head of the family now, and the welfare of his three younger sisters are what matters the most. Corey is desperate to find Daniel, tell him the truth and somehow convince him to keep secrets. Even if this leads to heartbreak.



When the world crumbles around Corey, and Daniel is running scared, Legacy ranch is their only hope.



A new story set in the world of Jack and Riley Campbell-Hayes and the Double D Ranch, Texas.


Jenn Review

4 Stars

Oh the emotional journey with this Legacy Ranch group and wow does Daniel round it out! This story made me feel so much! Daniel and Corey both have so much to deal with – it’s powerful, emotional and filled with hope so have some tissues ready!

Daniel is trying to live a normal life, trying to escape the pain and horror of his past. He knows people think he’s weird but he’s still trying. Corey’s life changed dramatically when his parents and uncle unexpectedly died, now he’s in charge of the business and his three younger sisters. Going through his father’s old journals opens a crack, exposes something so painful Corey knows he needs to hide it from his sisters but he also feels he needs to try to right some of the wrongs. And that is how Daniel comes into his life.

For me, a lot of this story was more about the healing journey than the romance and it worked for me. The lives of both of these men have spiraled a bit, and it takes time to recover from that. Aside from their individual issues, there are issues between Daniel and Corey, the connection they share and the questions of being able to separate it all and RJ Scott does a great job of bringing these two together. They find friendship together and it leads to more and it just made my heart so happy! This book and this series, while not always easy on the heart, are so full of love and hope. I love how this group becomes a family, the stories going beyond just finding romantic love, but also the love of a family.

 



June 23Xtreme Delusions, The Way She Reads, OMG Reads, Reading In Sarah’s Corner, Abbey’s Fully Booked, June 25Love My Reads, June 29The Novel Approach, Making It Happen, MM Good Book Reviews, The Geekery Book Review, Cupcakes & Bookshelves, RAM PA Group, July 2Mirrigold, Sexy Erotic Xciting, Gay Media Reviews, July 4Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Lelyana’s Reviews, July 6Jim’s Reading Room, July 11Padme’s Library, Wicked Reads, July 13Lillian Francis, Virginia Lee



Excerpt

Chapter 1

Eight years ago

I want to go home.


Daniel Chandler trudged miserably down the long black ribbon of road, tears burning his eyes, and hopelessness tightening his chest. The heat of an August Texas day had subsided to a slightly cooler evening, and the sky was a brilliant mass of stars, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up at them anymore.

How had everything gone this badly wrong? Brett had promised that he would take Daniel somewhere far away from his foster family, but one weird question from an inquisitive cashier at a gas station and Brett had panicked. He’d refused to go any further, and said he was going home.

Daniel didn’t want to go back to San Antonio. He wanted freedom, and the ability to decide for himself where his life was going. He’d overheard his foster parents talking about how he was a liability; that he costed them more than they made, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they got rid of him anyway.

So he refused to leave with Brett and got out of the car.

Brett didn’t care, and he drove away, leaving Daniel stranded.

Daniel kicked a stone, stumbling a little when he misjudged the curve of the road. He’d eaten the cereal bars that Brett had tossed him and used up all the water. Which left him in the heat, without food or drink, and carrying a backpack with limited clothes. He also had books—his favorites, and a wallet which contained nothing more than a couple of hundred dollars he’d saved from his gardening job. The only official thing he had in the bag was his ID.

He’d left his most recent home at six-thirty a.m., with no real idea of where he was going or what he was doing, only knowing he wasn’t going to spend another minute in a house where he wasn’t wanted.

Hunching his shoulders against the weight of his backpack, he carried on. Sometimes he hummed to a song in his head. Other times he counted the steps he took, but most of the time he stared ahead, not counting or humming at all.

A car pulled up alongside him. No, a truck, and at first his heart leaped. Brett was back. He’d changed his mind and returned to help Daniel.

A female voice called out. “Can we give you a lift somewhere?” she asked through the open window.

Daniel saw she wasn’t much older than he was, long blonde hair swept up into a ponytail, her smile wide, her expression kind. A man sat in the driver’s seat, but he was in the shadows, and at first, Daniel couldn’t make out his face until he leaned forward. The first thing Daniel noticed was the dog collar, then the same kindly smile as the girl. They were clearly related, both fair, with light eyes and an angular balance to their features.

“Hello, young man. My daughter and I are heading to Laredo. Would you like us to take you?”

He smiled at Daniel, this man in black with the white collar. This was an average family. They probably thought he was a hitchhiker and were offering genuine help. If Daniel couldn’t trust a man of the cloth traveling with his daughter, then who could he trust? He scanned the road behind him, waiting for Brett to suddenly appear and pick him up, but he was tired, hungry, and verging on desperate.

“Thank you.” Daniel opened the back door. He’d never hitchhiked before, didn’t know what the etiquette was, but he felt like he should offer to pay. “I can cover gas,” he said.

“No need for that,” the dad said and extended a hand awkwardly over the seat, which Daniel shook. “Father Frank Martins and this is my daughter Andrea.”

Andrea glanced back at him and grinned again. “Hey.”

“Daniel,” Daniel replied, as mute as usual around a girl as he was with boys. She turned back to the front, and Frank put the truck in drive.

“Buckle up,” he said.

Daniel did as he was told. Then settled back for the ride.

“Where are you from?” Frank asked after a few moments of silence, filled only with the soft sound of tires on blacktop.

“San Antonio,” Daniel answered.

“Really? What brings you this far south?”

Andrea shushed her dad, “Stop asking him questions, Daddy.”

Her dad huffed a gentle laugh. “Sorry.” He used the mirror to see Daniel. “You like music?”

Daniel nodded, thankful to Andrea for running interference.

Frank fiddled with the stereo. Country music filled the cab, and Frank hummed along. Andrea was on her phone, as evidenced by the glow of light as screens changed, and Daniel regretted leaving his phone at home. In his mad, stupid, anger, he’d wanted no way for his foster parents to keep tabs on him, but right now, he kind of wished he could phone them. He should pluck up the courage and ask Andrea to borrow hers. Maybe give his foster-parents a quick call, apologize, get them to pick him up, or at least arrange a bus.

They would help him. He didn’t doubt that. Even if he’d been an idiot and they wanted to hand him off to the next family, they would never leave a fourteen year old kid stranded miles from home.

“You thirsty?” Frank asked, and before Daniel could answer, Frank had unlocked the glove box and pulled out a bottle of water, passing it back to Daniel.

He took it with grateful thanks and downed a third of it in thirsty gulps. They reached the outskirts of a small town, and the car slowed to a stop outside a cookie-cutter house, a pretty place with manicured lawns.

Andrea turned around to look at Daniel.

“This is where I get out,” she announced. “Nice to meet you, Daniel.”

I thought they were both going on to Laredo?

Frank turned around as well. “I can take you all the way into the city. It’s only another ten minutes or so to the bus station or somewhere like that? A hostel?”

“I’m not sure—”

Frank interrupted, “Or you could stay the night here or a motel. We have one a few blocks down from here.”

Andrea shut the door and jogged up to the house, vanishing inside.

“Could I just borrow your phone?” Daniel asked.

Frank smiled, nodded, and pulled out his phone, tutting as he did so. “Oh my, the phone’s dead. You want to use my house phone? Or shall I just get you to the city? The bus station, right? They have public phones there.”

So many decisions. So many difficult choices, he thought and yawned.

“Yeah.” Daniel just wanted to get home.

“Yeah, what?” Frank prompted.

Daniel blinked at him. He was tired, and everything felt kind of hazy. “Yeah, home.” Back to his pretend parents and his pretend family, but back to a warm bed.

“Come on. Get in the front here.”

Daniel did as he was told, his limbs feeling heavy, and his coordination shit. Finally, he was belted in the front, and he closed his eyes briefly, exhaustion washing over him.

“That’s a good boy,” Frank murmured. “You sleep now.”

The country music got quieter, Frank’s humming was louder, and the journey to the city took a long time, the car swaying, and Daniel’s head thicker, full of softness and a weird kind of peace. He saw fields and signs, but none of them made any sense. Finally, he couldn’t fight the overwhelming lethargy, so he slept.

And woke up in hell.

 

About The Author



RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.



RJ is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.



She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.



The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit and has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

 

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