Monday, 20 October 2014

#KnappCoverReveal

Today we have the first glimpse at the cover art of HarperImpulse author, Jill Knapp's next book, "We've Always Got New York", coming out November 20th! This novel is book #2 in the "What Happens To Men..?" series, which is now available in paperback in Great Britain. The first book has gotten rave reviews, and has divided its readers into two groups. Are you on Team Michael? Or are you on Team Hayden?


You can get a copy of book #1 here -

 "We've Always Got New York" picks up after Amalia Hastings returns to Manhattan from her trip to Brazil to find that life has in fact gone on without her. Fresh off the plane, she is left feeling anxious and unresolved, left alone to pick up the pieces, and deal with the repercussions of choosing her own path over Michael. Amalia finds herself without an apartment, without a job, and starting to wonder if she's even without a best friend!

Jill can be reached on Twitter at @JL_Knapp and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jill-Knapp/1488935691330000?ref=hl

Now here's a sneak peak at the first chapter of "We've Always Got New York"!!

Chapter 1- Amalia

I could tell by the look on her face that she was expecting something from me. She was expecting something to be different. For me to be, in some way, changed.
I’m Amalia Hastings, and on August 20th at 9:17 pm, I was home. 
Home. The word seemed funny to me because I didn’t have a home to go back to. I moved out of my apartment right before leaving for Brazil and after my friend-with-benefits, Michael, showed up at my apartment, asking me to stay. I hadn’t thought it through properly; I just knew I didn’t want to live in that apartment anymore. Before my trip to Brazil I packed up what little stuff I owned and put it in storage for when I returned, assuming I would deal with it then. Well, “then” has become “now”. So for tonight I was staying with my best friend Cassandra. Who was currently waving at me.
I knew what she wanted. She wanted stories. Juicy ones that involved hot hookups on the sand. She wanted to see pictures. Pictures of the places I went, the food I ate, and the hot guys I met. She wanted me to run up to her in a sun dress, hair braided and skin tanned, and explain, no, to pontificate, to her how life-changing my trip was. She wanted me to playfully link her arm around mine and gush about how amazing it all was. How I was changed forever. That I had a new appreciation for life, food, and music. She wanted me to tell her that I would never be the same.
But this isn’t the movies and I’m not Julia Roberts.
The florescent lights above me flickered, making the airport look dark and ominous. I looked down at my hand as I pulled my rolling suitcase across the sticky, tiled floor. Not even my hand had acquired a tan. Three months in the Brazilian sun and my skin remained as pale as ever.
Cassandra was looking right at me with wide, unblinking eyes. I walked a little slower.
For some reason I couldn’t pinpoint, coming off the plane felt like a surreal experience to me. Although I was relieved to have landed, and I wouldn’t have wanted to stay in Brazil any longer, I still wasn’t utterly happy with being back. I wondered if it merely had to do with the fact that I had no apartment to go back to and was feeling pretty untethered from not having a proper home.
There’s an old saying. I’m not really sure where it’s from or who said it first. Kind of the proverb equivalent of The House of the Rising Sun. It proffers, “Wherever you go, there you are”, and up until about one month ago I had no idea what it meant. But now it means everything. It rings in my ears like a scolding mother, repeating itself over and over again until I submit.
I finally stood face to face with Cassandra, who was grinning like a fool at this point. She was dressed down for the night, wearing a purple racer-back tank top that showed off her summer glow, jeans, and gold flip-flops. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose, messy bun and her make-up was minimal, apart from the extra-shiny, coral lip-gloss she was wearing. She reeked of summer.
“Hey,” I offered, looking down at my sneakers. I wished I had more energy for her, but after ten hours on a plane it was all I could muster up.
Cassandra cocked her head to the side and smiled. Her hair swung back and forth and she popped her hip out like a model in training. She looked as fierce as ever, even dressed-down in comfortable summer clothes.
“That’s all I get? Get over here!” she said, pulling me in for a hug.
I hugged her back for a moment and then pulled away, overcome with exhaustion and jet-lag. I smiled at Cassandra. She smelled like a salty coconut and I realized she had probably come straight from Fire Island, a beach not too far from Long Island and just outside of the city. That explained the dressed-down attire, but not the lip-gloss. Unless, of course, we were going straight back there from JFK airport.
I looked back at the gate. Most people I knew hated airports, but I liked them. They offered a chance to escape. Get on a plane and in six hours from now you could be across the country. You could be in a different town, in a different house, with a different group of people. I think we all took that for granted.
 I could go back to Brazil right now. Or I could go somewhere else. I’ve never been to Cincinnati; I wonder what it’s like there. Or maybe Savannah. I could definitely live in Savannah! I took a step backwards, away from Cassie. Back toward the inside of the airport. She just smiled.
“Very funny, Amalia!” she said through perfectly white teeth. “Don’t sneak away from me now. I’m so glad you’re back, I really missed you.”
Cassie threw her arm over me and smushed our faces together. She whipped out her iPhone and flipped the camera application around so the front lens could be used and snapped a picture of the two of us. Before I knew it, she uploaded the picture to Facebook with the caption “So excited, Amalia is officially home!”
Without glancing back, she walked a few feet in front of me and remained glued to her phone. The back of her Havaianas smacking onto her heels echoed throughout the now nearly empty hallway. I let out a long sigh that Cassandra didn’t hear and pulled my suitcase toward the exit. Yep, it was official. I was home.

Saturday, 4 October 2014


Eve Devon’s new book, The Love List, is out now! Here’s a little teaser to get you in the mood.

                                                
Falling in love is just not on Nora King’s To Do List…

Neither is accidentally super-gluing her shoe to her hand right before the biggest presentation of her life!

With all the hard work she’d put into securing the family business after her father’s death, Nora has no choice but to accept help from a knight in shining armour.

Disaster relief worker Ethan Love is still haunted by his last deployment, and desperate for distraction. He’s in town to ask Nora for a major favour, and swooping in to save her presentation is a sure way to get her on side.

As Ethan sticks around and helps Nora through her grief, her barriers tumble down…but will she dare to swap her To Do lists for a How to Fall in Love list?
Release Date: October 2, 2014

Available Formats: ebook now. PBK from 18th December 2014

Buy Links: AMAZON  / BARNES & NOBLE / GOOGLE BOOKS / iTUNES / KOBO  / eBooks by SAINSBURY’s  

Excerpt:

          ‘I should probably not have ridden us so fast,’ she said her breath finally coming out in a rush.
          His eyes blazed white heat while his smile was gentle and did something to joggle that twisted mess of emotion inside of her. ‘Speed-freak.’
          ‘You say that as if it’s a bad thing.’
          ‘On the contrary. Fast can be good.’
          ‘Exactly.’ Nora nodded, unable to deny that she wanted to escape this any longer. Making his kiss happen in a rush of heat was what she would focus on to calm the swirling vortex of anticipation. ‘There’s nothing wrong with speed if it means you bypass the waiting,’ she said, staring at his lips and willing him to lower his head.
          Ethan chuckled and her gaze whipped up to meet his eyes. Damn it, there she was admitting stuff again. If he didn’t shut her up with his lips, soon she’d be admitting to him how the sheer size of him when he was up this close and personal with her made her feel all… protected and… needy.
          ‘But if all you ever do is rush to the end— don’t you sometimes feel like you’re missing out?’
          ‘Missing out?’ she frowned.
          ‘Hmm.’ Ethan lowered his head to nuzzle her hair away from her ear and whisper, ‘Because sometimes slow can be good. Better even.’
          Nora’s eyes rolled back in her head at the combination of his words and the feel of his breath in her ear making her last-ditch cautious, ‘Ethan, what are we doing?’ come out on a distinct sigh.
          ‘Oh, I think you know what we’re doing.’ His thumbs brushed the underside of her jaw as he tilted her head up. ‘You do know, don’t you, Nora?’
          ‘Maybe.’
          ‘And maybe you like. Maybe you want.’
          ‘Maybe,’ she managed to get out. Her hands came out to latch onto the hard wall of his chest. Definitely. She licked her lips. ‘But—’ What happened after? Her fingers clenched against his sweater. She needed to know. So she could prepare.
          ‘No buts. Like I said; if I see something I want, I make sure I get it.’
          ‘And it has to be slow like this,’ she rushed out, her hand snaking under the heavy knit to get even closer. Closer to all that hot muscle.
          Her breath blew out and landed against his throat making him shudder against her, but still he insisted, ‘I kind of think it does. I want time to discover the secrets of your mouth.’ His lips hovered a millimetre above hers, intoxicating her, confusing her, mesmerising her. ‘You going to give up those secrets for me, Nora?’ he whispered.



Author Bio:

I’m Eve Devon and I write sexy heroes, sassy heroines and happy ever afters…

I kind of secretly believe it’s not too late for me to train as a professional dancer, MMA expert, or get asked to be Angelina Jolie’s body-double. I know. This is why writing fiction is for me!

Growing up in locations like Botswana and Venezuela gave me quite the taste for adventure and my love for romances began when my mother shoved one into my hands in a desperate attempt to keep me quiet during TV coverage of the Wimbledon tennis finals! When I wasn’t consuming books by the bucketload, I could be found pretending to be a damsel in distress or running around solving mysteries and writing down my adventures. As a teenager, I wrote countless episodes of TV detective dramas so the hero and heroine would end up together every week. As an adult, I worked in a library to conveniently continue consuming books by the bucketload, until realising I was destined to write contemporary romance and romantic suspense myself. I live in leafy Surrey in the UK, a book-devouring, slightly melodramatic, romance-writing sassy heroine with my very own sexy hero husband!

I hope you enjoyed the teaser from The Love List and you can find out more about me, or drop by for a chat—which I always LOVE, here:

WEBSITE           TWITTER            FACEBOOK                 GOODREADS

Eve xx