Showing posts with label So Much More. Show all posts
Showing posts with label So Much More. Show all posts

Saturday, December 12, 2015

RELEASE BOOST






Title: So Much More

Series: Made For Love #3

Author: R.C. Martin

Genre: New Adult Romance

 Release Date: December 4, 2015


Blurb

The Red Coat Incident
4 cups humiliation
2 cups rejection
1/2 cup heartache
3 tbs regret
1 tsp tears
A pinch of hope

Sarah's life is a bit of a mess. After only a year of living her dream, teaching the third grade, one catastrophic mistake has her packing her bags and running away. Lost and broken, she clings to the small hope that her old stomping grounds will be the perfect place for her to start fresh. When she walks into Little Bird Cafe, looking for a job, she finds herself unprepared for the sweet deliciousness that is Brandon.

The Olivia Incident
5 cups loyalty
3 cups stupidity
1/4 cup resentment
2 tbs distrust
1 tsp weakness
A pinch of lust

Brandon's dream is finally coming true. His days may be long and hard, but he refuses to complain. He starts every morning in his kitchen, baking his signature pastries. With the students pouring into the college town he calls home any day now, he knows he needs help around the shop. When Sarah, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty, walks into Little Bird asking for a job, he's can't refuse her. As her new boss, he tries to convince himself that he can look, but he can't touch.

When he lets her loose in his kitchen, her broken heart is mended, his battered heart is stolen, and they can't deny that they both want more. So much more.
 


Book three in the Made for Love series can be read as a STANDALONE novel! I promise. Written for audiences 18+ years of age due to language and sexual content.


Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK



Also Available

AMAZON US / UK


AMAZON US / UK


AMAZON US / UK


Excerpt

After he shows me the lay of the land and I stow away my things, he brings me back to the kitchen. It smells amazing and I don’t hesitate to tell him as much.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, pulling out a stool and signaling for me to sit. “Your first order of business will be to try everything that’s on the menu today.” My jaw drops open as he sets a plate full of pastries in front of me.

Best. First day. Ever.

“You don’t have to eat it all—”

“Oh, but can I?” I mutter, reaching for the first scone that I see.

He chuckles. “Eat as much as you’d like, just be sure to try everything. It’s important that my staff knows what everything tastes like so you can describe it to customers who have questions. I make the pastries on a weekly rotation, unless I get a special order.”

As soon as the buttery scone begins to melt on my tongue, a moan I can’t contain forces itself from my throat. “You made this? This morning?” I ask with a mouthful.

He nods at me with a smirk.

“Am I eating a butter pecan scone?”

He nods once more, his smirk turning into a smile.

Shit. I’m in so much trouble. How in the hell is my battered heart supposed to compete with that smile and this scone made by that sexy man who I keep imagining in nothing but his damn apron?

Too much smut. I’ve been reading too much smut!

Or maybe not enough…

“Remember, you have to try everything. I’ll be right back,” he tells me, leaving me with the plate of deliciousness.

By the time he returns, I’ve tried his lemon poppyseed scone, his apple-carrot-raisin loaf, his cinnamon swirl coffee cake, and I’m devouring his blueberry crumble muffin. I can’t even bring myself to be ashamed of my gluttony—with four more things left to try.

“That one’s a best seller,” he says with a wink as I polish it off.

If baked goods are my weakness, Brandon’s baked goods just may be the death of me. Especially if they come with a wink.

I look away from him, afraid I’ll start staring if I don’t. I reach for another pastry as I pull my phone out of my pocket, needing a better distraction just as much as I need to share the discovery of my new favorite muffin.

Me: OMG. If you think my baking is good, you haven’t LIVED until you’ve tried Brandon’s blueberry crumble muffin.

To my delight, and relief, she shoots back a text almost immediately.

Aria: Yum! Guess I know where I’m coming for lunch…

Me: Dear Lord—I just bit into a chocolate zucchini muffin. This job is going to make me SO fat.

Aria: Lol. Are you eating the whole pastry case or what?!?

Aria: Josh teaches a kickboxing class three nights a week! (MWF) Come with me!

Me: YES! Also—I really am eating the whole pastry case. Boss’s orders.

Aria: Clearly I’m in the wrong profession.

Aria: Anyway, gotta jet. Can’t be late for work. See you at lunch! Happy First Day!!!!

“If you finish that entire plate, I swear, I’m giving you a raise.”

I look up to find Brandon not two feet away, leaning against the work island where I sit, watching me. It isn’t until I look down at the plate that I realize I’ve now eaten two whole muffins and at least half of everything else.

If I were a blushing woman, my cheeks would be on fire. Lucky for me, I only blush when I’m intoxicated. Right now, I’m just drunk on sugar, which is so much better and much less embarrassing. Yet, when I think about it, I recognize that I’ve never been embarrassed about my ability to consume an obnoxious amount of baked deliciousness. When my eyes move from the plate to meet Brandon’s hazel irises, I remember that it’s him that’s making me anxious.

I clear my throat and try and think of something clever to say to dispel the awkward moment that’s filled with my silence. “Hi. My name is Sarah. I’m a sugarholic…I’m about ten seconds sober.”

He laughs and I temporarily forget why I’m not supposed to want him. “Hi, Sarah.”

“Too bad about that raise,” I quip, pushing the plate away from me. “I can’t eat another bite.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” he tells me before he reaches for the remnants of the lemon poppyseed scone and pops it into his mouth.

Dammit. Don’t watch him eat. Is eating supposed to be sexy? Or is that the sugar talking?



Author Bio

R.C. Martin finds it a bit awkward referring to herself in the third person, so she's only going to do it for this one sentence. (We all know who's writing this bio anyway!)

I'm a born and bred Coloradan. I will always claim that square state as my home! While I now reside in Virginia, the land of the Rocky Mountains is where I've left a piece of my heart and where my characters come to life. I'm a woman in love with love and filled to the brim with compassion for women like me, on a journey to find themselves in today's society. I aspire to inspire my readers to do more than settle. I hope that my writing will remind everyone that she (or he!) is valuable and worthy of the best kind of love--the kind that is gentle, patient, faithful, passionate, all consuming, never ending, and leaves you breathless.

When I'm not writing I'm reading; when I'm not reading I'm writing...you know how it goes! I also enjoy cooking, baking, crocheting, and jigsaw puzzles. Basically, I'm an old soul with a young heart, nonchalantly waiting for my prince to come.

Author Links

Giveaway

Sunday, June 29, 2014

BLOG TOUR PROMO





https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21946108-so-much-more


Synopsis
Avery Moore writes about romance, but she sure as hell doesn’t live it. Blake Patterson has no trouble getting women, in fact as the owner of a popular club, women are practically throwing themselves at him.

They couldn’t be further from each other’s type, but when a solid friendship is formed, little by little the lines become blurred.

In this struggle between friendship and love, the desire between them becomes too much to resist.

What happens when your friend suddenly becomes So Much More?



Excerpt

Morgan pulled me toward the bar where she ordered us a couple of drinks before leading us to one of the booths. As soon as we sat down, Morgan waved at a guy dressed
in a pair of black jeans and a gray button-down shirt. He was very nice looking and smiled as he politely excused himself from the person he was talking to before heading our way.


“Hey, I’m glad you made it.” The guy leaned down and kissed Morgan on the cheek and slid into the booth next to her. “Hi, I’m Sean Benson.” He held his hand out to me.


“Avery Moore.” I shook his hand. “Nice place you have here,” I said, motioning around us.

Sean leaned back and smiled at me. “Thanks. We like it.”

“We?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“My friend, Blake, and I own Chrome,” he explained. “Speaking of Blake, here he
comes.”

I turned just in time to see a familiar face and groaned. “Blake, this is Morgan and Avery.” Blake nodded at Morgan, then held out his hand to me. “Nice to see you again, Avery. My friends call me Blake, but you can call me ‘Hero’.” He grinned, and I was tempted to slap that cocky smirk off his face.

“Don’t hold your breath,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. What were the odds of running
into this gym egomaniac again? Especially outside of the gym. Good Lord, luck was not on my side.

I glared at Morgan when she started to giggle. “What did I miss?” Sean looked
confused as he looked between all of us.

“Well, your friend saved my girl’s ass today at the gym,” Morgan explained, completely ignoring the dirty looks I was throwing in her direction.

“This was your damsel in distress?” Sean asked Blake, chuckling. Great, it was obvious that Blake had told his buddy about my altercation with the machine. I bet they had a huge laugh about it.

“I was not a damsel in distress. I would have gotten the weight off eventually.” I refused to look at either Morgan or Blake as I spoke. “I just knew your boy here wouldn’t leave me alone until he flexed his muscles and strutted around like a male peacock.” Taking a drink from my glass, I continued. “Basically, I did him a favor, if you really think about it. I helped him impress the sports bra bimbos. I took one for the team, more like a wing-man.” I nodded, pleased with my explanation. I was pretty sure they all bought it ... well, until they all busted out laughing at the same time. It had sounded good anyway.

“Avery, you crack me up. Move over.” Blake shoved in next to me. Apparently my evil looks had no effect on this man either. I was going to need to practice in the mirror at home. When he pushed my legs to scoot me over, I squeaked. Even the smallest tap hurt my sore muscles more than I thought possible.

“Are you okay?” Blake looked genuinely concerned for just a minute.

“No. Thanks to my best friend over there, I can barely move anything below the waist. I’m pretty sure I should be in some sort of body cast and not in these frickin’ boots in a bar, even if it is a nice one like this.” I groaned, trying to scoot over to give Blake some more room.

“When was the last time you worked out?” Sean asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

“You mean on purpose?” I asked. Sean laughed and nodded.

I sat back and thought for a minute. “I’m pretty sure that was my senior year gym class—about seven years ago.” I nodded.

“Shit, and you started her with Mitzi’s class?” Blake asked Morgan, exchanging looks
with Sean and laughing loudly.

Morgan waved her hand. “She did fine. She was pedaling faster than anyone in the class.”

“That’s because I thought someone was chasing me, the way that spawn of Satan was
screaming at me.” Morgan rolled her eyes as the guys laughed.

“She is tough, I’ll give you that,” Blake confirmed. At least we agreed on this much.


Sean stood up. “We better go help Tony. He looks like he’s busting his ass.” He motioned to the tall man covered in tattoos behind the bar. Sean ran his hand over Morgan’s shoulder as he turned to leave.


Blake nodded and stood. “You ladies enjoy yourselves. Let us know if you need anything.”


We watched the guys walk away, and Morgan turned and smiled. “What a coincidence. I had no idea Sean was friends with the guy who pried you out from under the leg press.” She winked, dodging the piece of ice I tossed at her.


“Should we go dance?” Morgan looked out at the full dance floor, bouncing in her seat.

Normally I would be jumping at the chance to let loose. I loved dancing, but Icouldn’t imagine doing so with the way my body was protesting while sitting.


“Have you even been listening to anything I’ve said? Does it not occur to you that if I can’t walk without looking like I have something shoved up my ass, I just might not be able to handle the dance floor?” I tried to look pissed, but the truth was that it really was funny. Of course I wasn’t about to admit that to Morgan, or she would have me at the gym again in the morning.

“Oh please ... it might actually improve your dancing.” This time my ice hit its mark. 



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About the Author



Taryn discovered her love for books at an early age, spending many hours lost in someone else's story.
It wasn't until well into adult hood that she discovered, late at night while the house was quiet, that she had just as many stories inside her just waiting to be let out. Writing has been a way for her to step away from reality and live a bit through her fun and sometimes damaged characters. You will almost always find a Happy Ever After at the end of her stories. She can't help it, it's an addiction.
She's a Southwestern girl living a Mid-Atlantic life with her husband of seventeen years and two incredible daughters who inspire her daily.

She is proud to be an advocate for her child with autism, and feels incredibly blessed to be able to see the world through her eyes. Her daughters teach her more than she could ever teach them.
She enjoys reading, writing and spending  time with her family, but cherishes those quiet nights after everyone is asleep when she can curl up on the couch with her sixteen year old dog. (Shh, don't tell...He's not supposed to be on the couch.)


Keep an eye out for more from her!!