Showing posts with label J.M. Adele. Show all posts
Showing posts with label J.M. Adele. Show all posts

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Release Blitz and Giveaway: Finding Home (Coming Home #2) by J.M. Adele


Title: Finding Home
Series: Coming Home #2
Author: J.M. Adele
Genre: New Adult, Contemporary Romance
Published: August 14, 2017
I’ve done some things I’m ashamed of. Been the subject of gossip they didn’t even bother trying to keep from my ears. But I’m here, thousands of miles away trying to atone for my sins. Funny thing is, some sins are so ingrained it’s impossible to scrub them from your DNA.

Chelsea’s hell bent on reigning in her free spirit and becoming the daughter her mama could be proud of. Lord knows she owes her that much. But when a stranger crosses her path, her wild heart flares to life. She figures a little bit of fun never hurt none. She isn’t prepared for the lesson fate serves with a slice of pie, and some sweet tea on the side.

Greyson is done with being neck deep in cow dung. He’s ready to hang up his cowboy hat and replace it with a toque blanche. Following his passion all the way to Boston, he gets the shock of his life when the smokin’ hot blonde from Alabama turns up in his uncle’s restaurant.

But her plans and his future are set for different destinations. And distance isn’t the only thing trying to tear them apart.

The kitchen is about to go volcanic as he fights to chase his dream, and hold on to his dream girl.

Chelsea will have to make a choice between her heart, or her home.

Which one will it be?

*Recommended for readers 18+ due to mature content. *





Finding Home Excerpt © J.M. Adele 2017

Like the rest of town, Lucy’s Diner was stuck in a time warp. They had the jukebox to prove it, complete with vinyl records. It had a nice homey feel to it, though—another thing she’d miss while she was gone.
The bell on the door jingled as it slapped shut behind her. An aromatic cocktail of grease and coffee hung on the air, assailing her senses, and triggering her hunger. Chelsea turned and waved to Angel as she drove off shaking her head. Her friend thought she was crazy, meeting a strange man who wasn’t hanging around for long. She’d learned to be more selective and trust her instincts when it came to men, despite her impulsive tendencies. Unwilling to repeat the fatal mistake from her past.
Maybe she was crazy, but there was something about him… She wasn’t completely irresponsible. The diner was her turf and it was safe. There’d be people here that would look out for her.
She had this under control.
Chelsea’s blue gaze roamed the cracked red vinyl booths, until they landed on the deliciousness that was Greyson Stranger. She didn’t know his last name, so Stranger it was, and that’s how she wanted it to stay. This was just a short detour to let off some steam before she had to get back to the serious business of paying for her sins.
Her smile stretched wide as she watched him take her in, the heat in his eyes blazing. His long, dark hair hung over one eye, brushing the tops of his wide shoulders. He leaned back in the chair and rested his arms across the table in front of him, with a hint of a smile in greeting.
Slowly walking towards him, she kept eye contact, half because she wanted to make an entrance, and half because she couldn’t look away.
“Is this seat taken?”
Greyson waved his hand across the booth as if to say, “Be my guest.”
Chelsea slid into the seat and rested her chin in her hands, still staring at him.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He smirked.
“You hungry?”
“Yeah. I’ve ordered a piece of pie and sweet tea. I didn’t know if you were gonna show up, so I figured I’d… fill up my body…” He wiggled his fingers to put air quotes around his use of her phrase. “… before gettin’ back on the road.”
At the mention of his body, Chelsea’s eyes dropped to his straining T-shirt again. It was hard not to look. The man was gorgeous. “Well, sugar, if I invite a man somewhere you can always guarantee I’ll show up. A piece of pie and some sweet tea sounds mighty fine right about now.”
The waitress appeared in time with Chelsea’s declaration. “Hi sweetie, good to see you again. You having what he’s having?” The older lady stood with pencil and pad poised, and a ready smile.
“Thanks, Doreen.”
“Okay, hun.” She bustled back behind the counter.
Chelsea turned back to her companion. “So, tell me about your first kiss?”
Greyson’s mouth dropped open and he huffed out a laugh. “Excuse me?”
“First kiss. Come on. Spill.”
“Mindy Lawson, second grade, on the swings. How about you?”
“Decker Turner, two years old, in the playpen.” She grinned. “What did you think you’d grow up to be when you were a kid?”
“Superman… How ‘bout you?”
“Lois Lane.” The corner of her mouth kicked up as she batted her lashes playfully.
A deep laugh rumbled out of him, sending tingles down her neck.
“Do I get to ask a question?” He raised a dark brow.
“Only if it’s not personal.”
“Your first kiss isn’t personal?”
“No.” She shrugged.
“So, I can’t ask what your last name is?”
“Nope.”
“Or your number?”
“Nooo.” She shook her head, dramatically.
He sat up straight and scratched the stubble on his chin, one side of his mouth quirked. “Arrabbiata or Carbonara?”
“Ooh, good one. It depends on my mood. Arrabbiata, most of the time.”
“Spicy… Nice.” He leaned towards her, his eyes dipping to her lips for a second, before seeking her gaze again.
She put her hands on the table, mirroring him as she leaned forward. “Red or white wine?”
“Whatever goes with the dish.”
“I like an adventurous man.” The smile broke out on her face again.
“I’m on the biggest adventure of my life.”
“Where ya headed?”
“Isn’t that a personal question?” He raised a brow and moved his hand closer so their fingers touched.
“Touché. Yes, it is.”
The clink of plates on the table broke the intensity between them.
Chelsea took in a desperate breath as they both leaned back. “Thanks, Doreen, you’re a darlin’.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. Enjoy!”
They each took a forkful of pie, and chewed as their eyes roamed over each other. The taste on her tongue was amazing. The country song playing on the jukebox barely registered over the sound of Grey’s lips smacking together as he enjoyed his food. He made a low hum in his throat, and she let out a whimper. It was the most intense foreplay she’d ever experienced.
She couldn’t help feeling sad at the thought that this couldn’t go anywhere. It should have been a warning signal, when fleeting hook-ups were the only relationships she dared to entertain. The type she could control. Maybe it hadn’t been wise, starting something with this man. It echoed of her past. Of a stupid decision that cost a life. She feared she was setting herself up for a painful experience, rather than the fun she’d hoped for.
Picking up her glass, she gulped down some cool, sweet tea, looking away from him for a beat.
“Feelin’ a bit heated, sugar?” The amusement was obvious in his voice.
The glass thunked on the table as she put it down too forcefully. “I am. You wanna get out of here?”
“What’s the hurry? Are you tired of me already?”
“Nope. It’s just the opposite. I’m afraid I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, but like the greedy girl I am, I’d like to gorge myself some more.”
She had lost her everlovin’ mind.
His jaw tightened and he paused, his eyes flashing to her mouth. She watched that jaw loosen as he continued to chew and swallow slowly. His gaze drifted back to hers, and he picked up his drink, draining it in one long chug before pushing the glass away.
“You’re a wild one… Tempting.”
He sat so still with his eyes boring into hers, his face an intense mask. His eyebrows had dropped. He looked almost angry… or maybe frustrated. It did nothing to dispel the heat that gathered in her core. If anything, the hint of fire in his eyes set her desire for him at furnace level. She’d never experienced an attraction like this before, putting her at a distinct disadvantage. She needed to be the one in control, and she felt anything but.
“I need to get back on the road. If I don’t get out of here now, I’m never going to leave,” he muttered, before he stood. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet, and threw some green onto the table. His warm palm caressed her cheek, as his thumb drifted across her bottom lip. The touch set off all sorts of tingles, further awakening parts that had no business being excited in a 1950s diner.
Chelsea’s heart thundered in her chest as he leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips. The barely-there touch seared more than the hottest chili.
“The first kiss is always personal,” he whispered in her ear, before walking out of her life. 
For good.
She sat for the longest time, staring at where he’d been sitting, trying to calm the hell down. Wondering what the fuck had just happened, and why she suddenly felt so bereft. Like her carefully planned future now had a gaping hole she had no idea how to fill.

Former nurse, reluctant romantic, and chocolate lover, J.M. Adele, is the author of paranormal and contemporary romance, and romantic suspense. After years of indulging in her addiction to reading, her own characters started to tell their stories. They were relentless, forcing her to put pen to paper and release them into the world. She also owns and runs The Flare Up book blog where she shares her reading obsession.

On most days you can find her running between the desk, and wrangling her three boisterous boys while carrying a book in one hand. When everyone else drifts off to dreamland she escapes into the worlds conjured by the characters in her head.









Hosted By: 
 

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

​Blog Tour and Giveaway: Sensing You (Sensing #1) by J.M. Adele

Title: Sensing You
Series: Sensing #1
Author: J.M. Adele
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Suspense Romance
Published: March 30, 2016
Gift or curse?

Ronnie has inherited her granny’s gift of a sixth sense. But for her it’s not a gift, it’s a curse. She’s unable to trust anybody with her secret, unable to form any meaningful relationships beyond what she has with the woman who shares her abilities. She’s learned to hide behind a solid wall of bitchiness.

When the ghost of a persistent young woman infiltrates Ronnie’s world, she can no longer avoid the visions plaguing her. Reluctantly, she starts to open up to friendship, happiness and love, discovering that fate has more surprises in store for her future than she imagined. Including a man who might actually be able to understand the pain she harbours under her tough exterior.

But as she learns more about her gift she finds herself in situations she isn’t prepared for. Now she’s in grave danger. Will she be able to stop a madman before she becomes his next target?


Sensing You Tour Excerpt © J.M. Adele 2016

She was up. I leaned back a bit so I had a view down the hallway. The bathroom door opened revealing Veronica in a purple tank top and… were those shorts or knickers? Her mass of dark curls moved free and wild. She rubbed her eyes as she walked towards me, heading for the kitchen. Those legs, that hair. Those legs. I was amazed this woman was for real, to be honest.
She dropped her hands as she reached the counter, and squealed when she spotted me watching her.
“Morning, Veronica.” The look on her face was priceless. I let the chuckle escape.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Arms akimbo, stormy eyes, she set my heart on fire. The flame dimmed at the sight of the dark circles under her eyes.
I grinned at her outrage, and moved inside, wanting to get closer and take away whatever troubled her. “Enjoying the morning show.”
She rolled her eyes and opened the fridge to grab the apple juice. I made a mental note to keep the apple juice stocked.
“Hurry up and get your running gear on, we’re leaving in five.”
She paused mid gulp with her cheeks puffed out. The glass clinked on the counter as she set it down, swallowing loudly. “I beg your pardon?”
She was putting on her stern-librarian voice. I bet that worked on most people. She liked to keep everyone at a distance. Not gonna happen with me because it was making me hard. Made me want to rough her up, and show her who was in charge.
“Four minutes.”
Her dark chocolate eyes grew wide as her delectable lips parted. I noted the pulse on her neck as it jumped. She liked it when I took charge. Interesting. A smile tugged at my mouth. “Three minutes. If you don’t change out of those pyjamas, the neighbourhood is going to know what you sleep in.”
She made a strangled sound. “Okay, Bossy Boots. Sheesh.”
She had to brush past me as she navigated the kitchen counter. I breathed in deeply. Her scent wrapped around my chest, and drew my balls up tight. She made me want. She made me need. She made me forget.
In less than two minutes, she was standing in front of me ready to go, wearing black Skins and a fluorescent yellow, razor-back singlet. Her baseball cap dangled from one hand, and sunglasses from the other. I reached out to take them from her.
“You won’t be needing those. We’ll be back before the sun breaks.”
She held her hands up in dismay. Her phone was strapped to her arm. I ripped off the Velcro, taking that, too.
She put her hand over mine. “No. I need to have music when I run.”
I slowly shook my head. “You need to let your mind wander. Listen to the hum of the morning. Let yourself relax and mull things over. I do my best thinking when I run. Pictures of designs start flicking through my head. It’s liberating. Better than therapy.”
“Everything’s better than therapy.” She bit her lip as she let that slip.
I might’ve found a kindred soul. Her eyes told me she knew pain. The kind that I did. I almost felt like a prick for taking away her safety blanket. Almost.
I placed her things on the kitchen bench. Before I could stop myself, my thumb pressed on her chin to free her lip. “Please stop that, it’s very distracting.”
I heard her soft gasp. Her huge eyes seemed too innocent. It was such a contradiction to the independent, sassy girl I’d come to know.
I let my hand drop and turned towards the door. “Let’s go.” Without waiting for her response, I headed out the front, hoping she’d follow.

J.M. Adele is the author of the contemporary romance novella, Remembering Home, and paranormal romance, Sensing You—coming soon. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her husband, three boisterous boys and two geriatric Labradors.

Working as a nurse in a former life allowed her to meet all sorts of wonderful people and gain many different perspectives on life. Her love of, and addiction to stories prompted characters of her own to take up residence in her daydreams. When they became more insistent, she finally took pencil to paper.
Hosted By: 
 

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Release Blitz and Giveaway: Sensing You (Sensing #1) by J.M. Adele

Title: Sensing You
Series: Sensing #1
Author: J.M. Adele
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Suspense Romance
Published: March 30, 2016
Gift or curse?

Ronnie has inherited her granny’s gift of a sixth sense. But for her it’s not a gift, it’s a curse. She’s unable to trust anybody with her secret, unable to form any meaningful relationships beyond what she has with the woman who shares her abilities. She’s learned to hide behind a solid wall of bitchiness.

When the ghost of a persistent young woman infiltrates Ronnie’s world, she can no longer avoid the visions plaguing her. Reluctantly, she starts to open up to friendship, happiness and love, discovering that fate has more surprises in store for her future than she imagined. Including a man who might actually be able to understand the pain she harbours under her tough exterior.

But as she learns more about her gift she finds herself in situations she isn’t prepared for. Now she’s in grave danger. Will she be able to stop a madman before she becomes his next target?


Sensing You Excerpt © J.M. Adele 2016

The imposing beauty of old Government House filled my vision. I stood like a statue on the perfectly manicured lawn in front of the sandstone magnificence. My stomach tumbled, and the skin of my neck and arms prickled with fear and excitement. I loved old buildings. Old, haunted buildings. I just couldn’t bring myself to go inside them. I spent a great deal of time avoiding spirits, so the idea of putting myself in their path, on purpose, went against my instincts. Ridiculous, I know.  But this was all about taking back control.
I pouted my lips, and slowly breathed in and out through my nose, shaking my arms and legs in preparation for battle. Stepping into the building, I could almost feel the people who’d lived here generations before. It smelled of ingrained dust. Not the dirty kind. Just the irremovable layering of years in the pores of every surface. Rich burgundy shaded the walls, complementing the rich, dark wood of the windows and doors. This was the womb of the house, dark and crowded, but cosy.
The receptionist started her welcome speech, offering me a brochure, and pointing the way to the courtyard café where I ‘might like to end my tour’. Not likely. I took it by my fingertips, careful not to make contact, and moved past the people watching a documentary on a small screen. Immediately, I was drawn to the Governor’s Library, and not because of the books. I could see her. A maid wearing a black dress with layers of skirts and a white apron. She bustled around, dusting every surface. Humming quietly, quite happy in her work. A relieved breath eased from my lungs. I could do this. The smile that stretched my face felt foreign, but welcome in this public place.
I worked my way back to the winding staircase that led to the art gallery. Yet another reason I was drawn to this place. The display of William Robinson’s works. He won the Archibald Prize two times. Twice! He was more of an expressionist than a realist. A misfit like me appreciated the individual interpretation of his views on life.
I wandered through the bedrooms turned into art displays, until I reached the self-portrait of the artist with his brother, clad in opposing outfits. Comfy PJ’s versus knowledge and power. Both of them depicted with solemn expressions. The laugh bubbled up from my gut, escaping without my permission, just like the smile I’d been wearing before. It felt fucking awesome to let it out. Until I heard a deep laugh join the melody of mine.
My tailbone throbbed at seeing him again. He was laughing at my shoes, not the painting. What’s so funny about my sneakers? I watched as his eyes travelled over me, the pupils growing larger despite the bright light streaming in the windows. My heart pounded, and my muscles tightened in response. I wanted to run before they reached my face, but I was too slow. He looked at me, rendering me speechless with his smile. He didn’t smile like that before. Given the circumstance of our past meeting, I probably would’ve slapped it off his face. Now, it’s an art work all on its own.
My heart galloped along, out of control. Lord knows where it wanted to go, but it definitely felt like it wanted to leave my chest and leap into someone else’s. It was scaring the shit out of me. His smile faded a little and he took a step back, and said something about the artwork. I couldn’t answer. My vocal chords had checked out on me, apparently on board with the travel plans taking place inside my rib cage.
His boots thumped against the floorboards as he retreated another step. He was looking at me strangely, continuing to prattle about the painting. I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, but his feet spoke for him. Two times he backed away… Twice. I was used to it. I encouraged it. I couldn’t afford to let people in. But watching him stand there looking scruffy and dangerous… holy shit… he was sexy. I didn’t want him to back away. I wanted him to take a step closer. But those buckled, biker boots backed up, slicing a piece off my tough exterior as they went. With my vulnerable centre exposed, the second step cut even deeper. I couldn’t let it happen again. So I ran.
That’s what I do. I’m good at it.
J.M. Adele is the author of the contemporary romance novella, Remembering Home, and paranormal romance, Sensing You—coming soon. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her husband, three boisterous boys and two geriatric Labradors.

Working as a nurse in a former life allowed her to meet all sorts of wonderful people and gain many different perspectives on life. Her love of, and addiction to stories prompted characters of her own to take up residence in her daydreams. When they became more insistent, she finally took pencil to paper.
Hosted By: