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He’ll promise her a summer she won’t forget…
 
Promise Me, an all-new steamy New Adult romance with heart from USA Today bestselling authors Samanthe Beck and Robin Bielman is available now! 

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Instead of soaking up the SoCal sunshine while housesitting for my aunt, I’m dealing with a Pomeranian who thinks she’s a Pitbull, two half-sisters who would happily prune me off the family tree, and him. Vaughn Shaughnessy. Hot model about to go nuclear, dangerously sexy flirt whose perceptive green eyes promise he’s more than just a pretty face. He’s the kind of walking, talking temptation I should avoid, but that’s impossible because he also happens to be my extremely lickable—I mean likeable—neighbor.


He’s turning me into a hot mess.


Thing is, I can’t handle more messes in my life. I’m still trying to come to terms with the monumental ones in my past, and getting involved with Vaughn—even for temporary summer fun—is guaranteed to get messy. I don’t dare risk it, but I’m not sure I can resist…

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Excerpt:
I follow Snowflake’s lead up the street, the moon smiling down on us. Compared to my apartment in New York City, it’s downright tranquil here. Earlier, music blasted from the house next door, f-bombs dropping repeatedly in many of the songs. My aunt briefly mentioned her next door neighbor, “Vaughn.” She texted to say that if I needed anything, he could help, and included his phone number. From the music selection, I’m guessing he’s closer to my age than hers.

The noise level has since subsided, but lights shine brightly. Shadowy movement passes beyond the windows. There are definitely people inside. Music suddenly shatters the quiet, the latest Maroon 5 song blaring through the wide open front door. Inexplicably, Snowflake chooses that moment to bark like someone yelled “dog party!” and run toward the neighbor’s driveway. I tug on her leash because I’m not one to trespass, but she’s crazy for something and isn’t about to back off. Then I realize someone’s walking down the dark driveway. Someone tall, broad-shouldered, and ambling with a loose-limbed grace that suggests he thinks he has the driveway to himself. Whoever he is, Snowflake can’t wait to greet him.

I’m about to call out hello when an engine revs. Red taillights blaze from the top of the driveway, and a vehicle jerks like the driver forgot to release the brake.

Oh crap.

The guy stops and turns in slow motion as an SUV rolls down the drive. I’m close enough now to hear his, “Oh fuck no,” as the car lurches.

He sprints to the center of the driveway and faces the car like he’s the Hulk and can stop two tons of metal momentum with his bare hands. What is he thinking?

“Stay,” I command Snowflake, and run up the driveway. “Hey!” shout.

The guy turns around and oh my God, the car suddenly picks up speed and heads straight for him. “Look out!”

He doesn’t listen, his eyes locked on mine instead. In a burst of super-human strength I didn’t know I had, I tackle him and fling us to the side of the concrete before he’s roadkill.

“What the—” he mumbles then oomphs as we hit the ground. Lucky for me, I’m sprawled on top of him, a slight sting in my shoulder from our initial landing.

Icy fear grips me as I look down the drive, praying Snowflake has stayed put. She has, but being the badass that she is, she’s barking for the driver to get out of the vehicle and keep all hands where she can see them. Thankfully, the SUV has stopped, its back end in the thick green bushes flanking the entrance to the driveway.

A tall blond woman in a short blue dress stumbles out of the car, laughing her head off like she didn’t almost crash into a human being. “Jesus, Vaughn, your ride is as fucked up as you are.” More laughter comes from a second woman climbing out of the passenger seat. Snowflake growls.

Beneath me a low voice mutters, “It is now.”

I turn back to my aunt’s neighbor. A small corner of my mind registers the sound of high heels clicking up the drive and Snowflake’s bossy bark telling those girls where to go and how to get there, but the rest of me is totally focused on the man beneath me. Slammed against his warm, hard body I feel small, his broad shoulders and chest cushioning my fall. My gaze slides to defined biceps straining against his short sleeves. His masculine scent is clean, with a hint of something spicy. Whatever it is, it puts sexy ideas in my head. I let out a deep breath, grateful he’s still in one piece. My heart stops trying to punch its way out of my chest.

Then I raise my eyes to his face, and holy crap. He’s beautiful. The face of a model beautiful. Wait. I think he is a model. Like of the gigantic Times Square billboard variety. His light brown hair is a little longer now, but there’s no mistaking that square jaw and those dark, olive green, come-closer-if-you-dare eyes.

A slow grin takes over his very nice mouth, making my cheeks warm.

He blinks like I’ve all of a sudden gone out of focus. “Thanks for saving my life, angel,”


 About the Authors

Samanthe Beck
SamantheBeck
Wine lover, sleep fanatic, and USA Today Bestselling Author of sexy contemporary romance novels, Samanthe Beck lives in Malibu, California, with her long-suffering but extremely adorable husband and their turbo-son, Hud. Throw in a furry ninja named Kitty and Bebe the trash talking Chihuahua and you get the whole, chaotic picture.

When not clinging to sanity by her fingernails or dreaming up fun, fan-your-cheeks sexy ways to get her characters to happily-ever-afters, she searches for the perfect cabernet to pair with Ambien.

 

Connect with Samanthe
Stay up to date with Samanthe by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2EZNah9




Robin Bielman
RobinBielman
 Robin Bielman is the USA Today bestselling author of over fifteen novels. When not attached to her laptop, she loves to read, go to the beach, frequent coffee shops, and spend time with her husband and two sons.

Her fondness for swoon-worthy heroes who flirt and stumble upon the girl they can’t live without jumpstarts most of her story ideas. She writes with a steady stream of caffeine nearby and the best dog on the planet, Harry, by her side. She also dreams of traveling to faraway places and loves to connect with readers. She dreams of traveling to faraway places and loves to connect with readers. Keep in touch at all of her social media spots! 
 


Connect with Robin
Facebook Instagram  |  Twitter   |   BookBub  |  GoodReads
Stay up to date with Robin by joining her mailing list: https://robinbielman.com


RELEASE PROMOTION Abbi Glines-2

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ABBI SYNOPSIS
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Summer had returned to the coastal town of Sea Breeze, Alabama. The nightlife lit up with scantily clad sun-kissed bodies, live music, the smell of freshly cooked seafood.

Taking it all in he wondered if coming back had been the best thing. He wasn’t the same man who had driven out of town a year ago on the motorcycle he’d spontaneously bought after his best friend’s wedding. From the messy blond curls he’d let grow out to the tattoos now covering his arms, part of his chest and even the side of his neck, it all represented a part of his journey.  


Eli Hardy was back, but he didn’t plan on staying for long.
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Read the  First Chapter HERE!


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I managed a bright smile that was so fake it was ridiculous to the other three standing there then turned on my heels and made my way to the French doors overlooking the gulf. Before I reached the exit, Eli moved in front of me and opened a door then stood back so I could go outside. There was the guy I remembered. The gentleman everyone loved. But as quickly as he appeared with the opening of the door, it was gone. No smile. No thank you for the rescue. Not even silent eye contact.

I slid off my heels and left them at the top of the stairs then headed down toward the sand below barefoot. The breeze was warm, so my arms weren’t chilled. Summer wasn’t officially here until the solstice, but in South Alabama, it had most definitely arrived.

The moon was full and walking beside Eli in the silence felt nice. There was no need to talk if he didn’t want to. We’d done that already. I hadn’t gotten him out here to talk anyway. I was tired of talking today. I’d done more than I usually did. Besides, Eli had little to say. No need to force him to speak.

The house was just a light in the distance when he finally spoke.

“Why did you do that?” he asked.

I lifted a shoulder to give a half shrug. Still no thank you. Not even the sound of gratitude. “You looked like you needed an escape.”

“I did,” he agreed.

“I was headed upstairs to escape myself. But I couldn’t ignore my hero mentality and let a poor guy get eaten alive by angry females.”

“Hmmm,” was his only response. What did that mean? And why did it have to sound so raspy and sexy? I should be annoyed by his lack of response. Not turned on by a deep husky rumble.

Back off Ophelia. Don’t go there. You already discussed this with yourself. He is off limits. Girl code unscripted or some shit. “I owe you one.” His voice and words surprising me. That was as close to a thank you I was going to get, but I’d take it. Besides if he was gushing over me and appreciative would I be as attracted to him? I knew that answer and I was going to pretend I didn’t. It made me sound shallow. I hated shallow. Needing to get out of my own head, I decided I’d do the small talk thing. Or attempt it with him.

“No, I think we are even now. I owed you one,” I told him. I felt his gaze on me then. Meeting that gaze was a stupid idea.



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ABOUT ABBI4872191

Abbi Glines is a #1 New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of the Rosemary Beach, Sea Breeze, Vincent Boys, Field Party and Existence series. She never cooks unless baking during the Christmas holiday counts. She believes in ghosts and has a habit of asking people if their house is haunted before she goes in it. She drinks afternoon tea because she wants to be British but alas she was born in Alabama. When asked how many books she has written she has to stop and count on her fingers. When she’s not locked away writing, she is reading, shopping (major shoe and purse addiction), sneaking off to the movies alone, and listening to the drama in her teenagers lives while making mental notes on the good stuff to use later. Don’t judge.

You can connect with Abbi online in several different ways. She uses social media to procrastinate.
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