~ Cover Reveal & Excerpt Reveal ~ Heartbreak Warfare by Heather M. Orgeron & Kate Stewart

Title: Heartbreak Warfare

Authors: Heather M. Orgeron & Kate Stewart

Genre: Contemporary Military Romance
Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
Photo: David Wagner
Model: David John Craig

Release Date: November 8, 2018

Blurb

Briggs,

Remember when I said we couldn’t speak after parting ways in Germany? It was the day I broke your heart. What you didn't know was that I was breaking mine too.

I thought they’d be enough–my husband and my son. That I’d get home and everything would go back to the way it was . . .

Before the war.
Before the ambush.
Before you.

But, no matter how hard I try, I can’t erase the trauma we shared. I can’t seem to forget the way my heart beat in time with yours.

The truth is I’m lost without you.

I thought the nightmare was over when they pulled us from that hole in the ground, but nothing could have prepared me for the war I’d face at home.
I know it’s selfish of me to ask, but, please, I have to see you one last time. . .

All my love,
Scottie 

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Excerpt

“I need you to break my heart,” she declares, wringing her hands nervously. “Give me a reason to hate you, because wanting you this way is…it’s ruining me. It’s ruining my life.”

She is dead serious.

Lifting her chin, as if ready to take a blow, her turbulent eyes implore mine. “Tell me about them. Tell me about all of the women you’ve been with since Germany.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Hell no.”

“Oh, please, Briggs. How long did you wait? A few days?” She laughs sarcastically. “I bet you didn’t even make it a day.”

She’s coming out guns blazing, and I can see it’s physically killing her to do it.

“Are we playing the guessing game? Do I get to ask how many times you’ve fucked your husband?”

“Sure,” she says with a shrug. “We’ll trade. You go first.”

She’s bluffing, and I’m calling her on it.

“Don’t do this, Scottie. You don’t really want to hear about that.”

“Humor me, Briggs.” Her eyes plead with mine. “I need to hear this.”

“Fine. You want the truth?”

She nods.

“Complete honesty?”

Again, she bobs her head.

She stands stock-still as I pace the small room, feeling the blood begin to boil beneath my overheated skin.

Fuck it.

I stalk back toward her, stopping inches away. “You really want to know that there have been so many that I’ve lost count? How they’re all blondes with blue eyes? But the blue, it’s never right, and their smiles—all wrong.”

She swats at the fresh tears that trail down her cheeks as her lips begin to tremble. Reaching out, she places a hand on my chest, and I know that she must feel the way my heart is pounding against my rib cage, reaching for her. Always reaching for her.

I jerk myself away and brand that touch to memory.

In about forty-five seconds, my heart is going to implode. I start ticking them down.

“You want me to tell you all about how I have to drink myself stupid, till their faces blur enough that I can pretend…” I pause running a hand down my face. “So that I can pretend they’re you? You want to know how fucking miserable I am? How when I slide between their legs, I close my eyes, and it’s your face I see? How I’m always careful not to kiss them because their lips are all wrong. How every time I finish I want to fucking kill myself, because I can’t stand the pain of wanting the one woman I can never have.”

Thirty seconds.

 “Is that enough?” Her eyes snap to mine. “Hate me yet?”

Face crumbling, she gasps out a sob, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

“Come on, Scottie. Let’s not kid ourselves. I’m still the same prick you hated when we met. Nothing’s changed. I think we’ve romanticized this situation long enough, don’t you?”

Taking another step away from her, I tilt my head. “You’re a housewife,” I say snidely. “Someone else’s wife and I’m a career soldier. This isn’t exactly ideal.”

She flinches visibly, and my heart bottoms out.

Fifteen.

I cut my hand through the air. “At the end of the day, this was nothing but a big mistake. And we never would have happened if—”

“Stop,” she cries out painfully, “stop, I’m good,” she whispers before rocketing toward the door just as I reach for her, my fingers curling in the space she just left. Handle in hand, she looks back at me with the sweep of her eyes until they meet mine. That’s how we started, and it’s only fitting it’s how we should end. For the moment, we’re right back there in the place we created, where we are perfect. Where our souls line up without any visible smudge on the seams. In a place where there is still so much love, so much that I can’t stop the tear that slides out before batting it away with the back of my hand.

An identical tear runs down her cheek. “Thank you.”

Three. Two. One.

📖 About the Authors 📖

Heather M. Orgeron

Heather M. Orgeron is a Cajun girl with a big heart and a passion for romance. She married her high school sweetheart two months after graduation and her life has been a fairytale ever since. She’s the queen of her castle, reigning over five sons and one bossy little princess who has made it her mission in life to steal her Momma’s throne. When she’s not writing, you will find her hidden beneath mounds of laundry and piles of dirty dishes or locked in her tower(aka the bathroom) soaking in the tub with a good book. She’s always been an avid reader and has recently discovered a love for cultivating romantic stories of her own.

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Kate Stewart

A Texas native, Kate Stewart lives in North Carolina with her husband, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. She pens messy, sexy, angst-filled contemporary romance, as well as romantic comedy and erotic suspense because it's what she loves as a reader.

Kate is a lover of all things '80s and '90s, especially John Hughes films and rap. She dabbles a little in photography, can knit a simple stitch scarf for necessity, and on occasion, does very well at whiskey.

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~ Excerpt Reveal ~ Cinq A Sept by MJ Fields

We have an excerpt for CINQ A SEPT by MJ Fields!
Don't forget to add it to your TBR!

 

CINQ A SEPT

Adult Contemporary Romance

Cover designer: Designs by Dana

Goodreads

📚 Blurb 📚

“I let my inhibitions go, and they fell in the wrong place. I didn’t know he would be my unraveling. I didn’t know he was twenty-five.”

A single mother often lives by certain rules, and Angela Petrov has made certain to adhere to hers: Mom first, career second, and no man will meet her child unless they will be in her life long-term.

However, with her daughter now in college, the company she has worked at for over a decade facing major changes, and no lover in sight, Angela’s life has lost all its carefully construed and configured organization.

When news that the annual, employee, Labor Day party in the Hamptons will still be held, Angela tries to bail out. However, her best friend and coworker, Autumn, convinces her otherwise.

Turns out that, while attempting to enjoy the elite Hampton nightlife with her coworkers, she meets a much-younger, tall, dark, and sexy man who offers her an escape for the long weekend. So, throwing caution to the ocean breeze, she accepts his offer of a true time-out in life, focusing only on time between the sheets with no …strings attached.

What happens when you allow yourself to let go of life’s stresses, releaseinhibitions, and embrace desire?

You chase regret.

*This is a stand alone novel part of The Vault collection.

📚 EXCERPT 📚

Love is the most beautiful illusion there is, but like all illusions, in time it fades away.

Speak of the devil and he appears, I sigh out loud when I see Davis, my ex-husband, through the glass centered in the large oak double doors leading onto the outside deck.

When I see him looking around, I make my way to the stairs that lead to the beach, and escape what would be a mind numbing and infuriating conversation about Sabrina, his wife’s constant nagging, turning into a nauseating drunken rambling about how he fucked up and should have stayed with me. As if that was even an option at any point. When I walked out the door, there was never any intention of going back.

My steps are not easy, sand and heals don’t mix, but I trudge on.

Story of my life.

With the trifecta of change upon me, my emotions are not as easy to hamper. My child is soaring like she should, I’m forty years old, and the career I have built, that supports not only mine, but my daughter’s lifestyle is not quilted in a nice, solid and planned pattern it once was. In fact, it’s more like a childhood blanket after years of having given comfort and security, it’s—all hanging by threads. Enter Davis and the infuriating realization that he has not, nor would he ever go the extra mile for Natasha. Not even if it meant crushing her dreams and what should be a relaxing weekend, one to celebrate the fruits of my labors with the company that I’ve treated as if it’s another child. I’m far from the state of relaxation.

Yes, life would be easier with two incomes flowing into one household, but Davis’s dangling the carrot of reconciliation in my face every time he’s had a drink is nauseating.

Could I have him back? Without a doubt.

Would I want him back? Never in a million years.

“I’m not, nor will I ever, choose a man with an average size dick and less than average ability.” I huff, as I pull off my heals and walk down the sandy beach.

“Infuriating,” I puff.

“Disgusting,” I blow out the words like there on the end of a wand and will float off into the air, pop, and never return.

The smell of smoke stops my rambling and a chuckle causes me to look left towards the source. The orange glow of cigarette ambers lights the face of a tall dark haired male.

His hair is thick and wavy, pushed back by a pair of sunglasses atop his head.

He exhales and butts the cigarette out in the sand, bends down and picks up the butt while looking up at me smirking.

I sigh and turn to walk away.

“She complains about average Joe and his less than average ability, yet walks away from a man above average in everything.”

I stop quickly and turn around, “Excuse.”

He steps out of the shadow into the moonlight, and my throat dries immediately.

My breath is lost, and so are my words.

Me, the word is me Angela, I scold myself.

Pushed away from the wooden fence behind him, he straightens to his full height. He’s over six feet tall. The white linen shirt he wears is unbuttoned just below his chest, displaying his beautifully sculpted pectorals, and a light sprinkling of dark well-groomed hair is peppered perfectly on them.

The shirt sleeves are rolled up exposing his forearms. They’re strong, muscular, and defined. My eyes sweep upward to his muscular shoulders and thick neck. His hair isn’t just dark, it’s a jet black mess of wave. Although his face is lightly bearded, you can still see the spectacular strong bone structure beneath it.

I close my mouth even tighter as I swallow back the instant desire this mans presence causes.

His eyebrow cocks as the corner of his mouth slowly ascends, as he assumedly sees exactly what effect he has on me. The tightening of my nipples confirms its probability.

His eyes start at my toes and slowly move up my legs, then follow the curve of my hips even slower. They stall on my breasts, and his adams apple bobs as he swallows. He slowly licks his full lips, then rakes his bottom lip between perfect teeth as his eyes, that I believe are brown, run up my neck and finally settle on mine.

I open my mouth to tell him I don’t appreciate the way he just took me in, caressed my body with just a look, however it would be a blatant lie.

It takes but a moment to allow reality to dissolve the feeling of desire, and it crashes like the evening waves only a few feet away. I’m a female, alone on a beach and the look in his eyes comes with an intent as clear as the moonlit evening sky.

Without a word, I force myself to choose logic over lust as I lift my chin, turn on my bare feet and march toward another bar, just a few yards away.

That choice, should have earned me an Olympic medal in restraint.

I feel a chill, flow up my spine to the back of my neck, causing my hair to stand up on it, making me all too curious to look back and see if he’s still watching me. However, I know better than to throw caution to the wind, when the breeze could easily turn and I could end up in a situation worse than sand in my face. Perhaps a situation that would include sand in my panties.

I lift my head higher beckoning the breeze with the pure, raw need to cool my heated skin. My steps quicken as I near the safety that comes in numbers. Walking up the sand covered steps to the vinyl decking, I take in a few deep breaths. Only then do I realize there is music playing.

No Rain, by Blind Melon, reminds me of the drought I’ve experienced over the past several months and just how easily I could quench the thirst caused by it. If I just let myself succumb to my want.

📖 About the Author 📖

USA Today bestselling author MJ Fields write books that scorch pages and melt hearts.

Her style is raw, gritty and authentic.

Love an alpha and a strong heroine? She does too.

Join MJ's mailing list and get a free book ➜  http://bit.ly/MJFNews

Visit her website here ➜  mjfieldsbooks.com

Stalk her Facebook here ➜  facebook.com/MJFieldsBooks

Follow her on Twitter here ➜  twitter.com/mjfieldsbooks

Follow her on Instagram here ➜  instagram.com/mjfieldsbooks

~ EXCERPT REVEAL ~ Their First Fall by MJ Fields

Check out this Excerpt for
THEIR FIRST FALL by MJ Fields
Don't forget to add it to your TBR

THEIR FIRST FALL by MJ Fields
Adult Contemporary Romance

Cover Models- Colin Wayne Erwin and Breanna Erwin
Cover Designer- Juliana Cabrera at Jersey Girl Design
Photographer - Golden Czermak at Furious Fotog

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2IBvBqN

📚 BLURB 📚

Keeka
Alone in the world, after her mother’s death, she tries to find the life she dreamed of as a child.

Trucker
Alone in the world the family he felt part of began to fall apart, as his dreams of being an NFL quarterback become his reality.

What happens when everything you had is gone, everything you wished for seems to be in arms reach, and your world begins to spin in circles?

You Fall.

📚 EXCERPT 📚

March twentieth, at five fifty in the morning, I am walking down 42nd Street with a backpack strapped to my back and a duffel bag slung across my body. I’m no longer looking for where the sea and the sun meet. No longer looking for her to appear and save me from a place where I’m alone and afraid. A place she told me to wait for her because she was my person, and I was hers, no matter who else she had in her life.

She always made me feel special that way. Always. But now, a year after she took that step off the edge and left me where the water never really meets the sun, I know that she was never healthy enough to be someone’s everything. And I know I’m not going to grow and become my own person until I let go.

I can let go, finally, because she did.

I chose this time of day and mode of transportation out of the city that haunts me for a reason. Neither the sun rising or the view of the waters will pull me to look for something … or someone who isn’t there. Something or someone who will always be beautiful in the most confusing way. Something or someone who isn’t here and isn’t real anymore, who is holding me back from growing, and God how I wish to grow.

Stopping at the corner of Park Avenue and 42nd Street, I reach up and untie the pale blue ribbon from my hair. Then I close my eyes and rub it between my fingers, soothing myself, feeling the silky softness that I have felt since she gave it to me. She told me that this scrap of ribbon had once run around the edge of the blanket that a man, who she assured me I have met before; a man she said wasn’t strong enough to be what he truly was supposed to be—my father.

She insisted I always keep a part of him, symbolizing that I was the best part of him, the part he didn’t even know he held. To me, that part of him, that scrap of nothing, has been a hindrance to me and her.

I remember a day playing in the sand when, by chance, I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw it had somehow come untied and was flying in the breeze.

Panicked, I looked around as I jumped to chase it. Mom was talking to a man, smiling from ear to ear for him, engrossed in the attention he gave her, and he was smiling back at her the same way.

That day, I chased a blue ribbon, knowing it meant something to her and, in theory, meant something to me, as it wisped through the air. I panicked, thinking that, after she was done with her crash after that man had broken her smile, she would notice it was gone when I lay next to her, when she would rub the ribbon between her fingers like she always did, soothing herself with its silky softness, just like I did.

Looking up at it, I ran right into a boy who was running along the beach, holding a kite string.

We both jumped up, and then he ran toward the kite string as the wind blew it away like my ribbon.

“Oh shit.” The little boy with black hair laughed as he jumped high in the air, grabbing both the ribbon and the string in different hands at the same time. Then he fell onto his bottom in the sand.

When he looked at me, he smiled and reached out his hand, the one holding the string, not the ribbon. When I didn’t take it from him, he looked at me like I was odd, yet he was still smiling.

“Go ahead; it’s yours.”

When I still didn’t say anything, he looked away from me and at his hand.

“My bad,” he said, then stretched out his other hand. “This is yours.” His smile grew bigger, and then he shrugged. “You want the kite instead?”

I looked behind me to see where my mom was, to see if she was worried. She hadn’t even noticed I had run off.

For a brief moment, I wanted to say yes. I wanted the kite, and I wanted him to take the ribbon. But then he would have to carry the burden of responsibility, and that would make his smile fade. I was sure of it.

Before I could answer him, he pulled off one of the kite’s tail ribbons and stood.

I cupped my hand over my eyes as I looked up at him, shielding it from the sun’s blaring glare, wanting to know if he was still smiling.

He thrust his hand out, the one holding my ribbon and now a part of the kite’s tail. “Here. Now you can have both.”

I took it and looked at the thick orange ribbon, inspecting it. There was a round, orange cartoon character all over it. Then I looked up at the kite, seeing it had the same orange-looking cartoon character on it. I looked back at him to see he was smiling … still smiling.

“His name’s Otto.”

I couldn’t help smiling back at him. But then, I didn’t want to smile at him, because that meant he could take it away—the smile—and make me crash, make me sad.

“Looks like a Lou to me.”

He started to laugh, and it was so loud it startled me and made me jump.

He grabbed my hand. “You fall, you’ll end up with sand in your suit. Don’t fall.”

I nodded as I steadied myself. That was when I heard her call my name.

“I gotta go.” I tried to hand him back the ribbon, but he shook his head.

“It’s yours.”

I looked at my hand, at the blue ribbon, and pondered whether to give it to him or keep it when I heard my name again. I looked from the ribbon and back to the tall, smiling boy framed in the sun.

“You better go.” He nodded toward my mom.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He smirked. “Lou.”

~~~

Back in the now, I hold the ribbon up and look at it as the wind blows its end about. Then I close my eyes and think of that day as I release it and watch the wind whisk it away.

Like the kite, it blows higher and higher until it’s gone, and with it, the last of what has held me back. All the burdens, all the responsibilities I had put upon me, knowing they were more a weight than a means to grow.

Turning, I walk into Grand Central Station and take in her beauty as I walk toward the track that I pray will lead me to a place where smiles are in abundance and life will begin.

Sitting in the cushioned train seat, I close my eyes. The fear of the unknown takes ahold of me, but just a little.

When the woman beside me taps my hand, I open my eyes. She hands me a tissue, and I force a smile and thank her.

A total stranger showing me kindness.

While I wipe my eyes, she asks me what my name is as the train leaves the station, as I leave behind my past.

“My name is Keeka.”

And from that moment on, it would be.

 

📖 About the Author 📖

USA Today bestselling author MJ Fields write books that scorch pages and melt hearts.
Her style is raw, gritty and authentic.
Love an alpha and a strong heroine? She does too.

Join MJ's mailing list and get a free book ➜ http://bit.ly/MJFNews
Visit her website here ➜ mjfieldsbooks.com
Stalk her Facebook here ➜ facebook.com/MJFieldsBooks
Follow her on Twitter here ➜ twitter.com/mjfieldsbooks
Follow her on Instagram here ➜ instagram.com/mjfieldsbooks