Release Day Blitz - The Phoenix Campaign by Heidi Joy Tretheway

Today we have the release day launch of Heidi Joy Tretheway’s The Phoenix Campaign! To celebrate the release, Heidi is sharing with us a behind the scenes look at the photo shoot and creation of her sexy covers, as well as a fantastic giveaway!! Be sure to check it all out!!

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The Phoenix Campaign: Ambition. Lust. Sacrifice. Politics just got a whole lot sexier.  

Grace Colton’s life is a blur—security, appearances, and a desperately fast ramp-up to Election Day. Political consultant Jared Rankin is pulling the strings to win the White House with the Conover-Colton ticket. But the fragile relationship Grace and Jared forged could be ruined by secrets traded for political leverage. She’s hiding her new relationship with Jared from the public, and concealing a deeper secret from everyone. When Grace reveals the explosive truth to her running mate, squeaky-clean Senator Conover must confront his own haunted past. Grace’s future—and their campaign—could be ruined by the lies meant to protect what they love most. Peek behind the curtain and under the covers in this sexy political drama that exposes the true cost of ambition, lust and sacrifice. The Phoenix Campaign is an erotic romance set in the world of presidential election politics. Recommended for mature readers due to sharp dialogue, wickedly hot sex, and a few delicious taboos. This full-length novel is second in a series but can be read as a standalone. 

The Phoenix Campaign:

Amazon | iBooks | BN | Kobo 

The Phoenix Candidate: 

  Amazon | iBooks | BN | Kobo 

RELEASE DAY EXCLUSIVE:

Behind the scenes at a sexy photo shoot Have you ever seen a book cover and thought, huh, I think I’ve read that before? Maybe you’re just seeing the same stock photo. It’s no secret in author circles that the best stock photos make the rounds … a lot. That’s why I decided to do a custom photo shoot. Thanks to my massively talented friend Adrian Hale, a hair and makeup artist who works with photographer Josh Baker of AzulOx Photography, we arranged a shoot featuring the gorgeous 

Callisto and David:

 

The setup: Adrian’s house. The girl let us totally mess up the place, bless her heart.

    

While David and Callisto were total pros, I was in the corner accidentally making inappropriate comments (oohs and aahs and that’s hot and I’m going to need a moment alone). We saw the shots pop up on a tablet in real time. In most cases, the last shot was the best. Josh said, “I know when we’ve got it right. That’s when we stop shooting.

 

 We took inspiration from Pinterest and from the idea of a push-pull dynamic in Grace and Jared’s relationship throughout the series. The models were actually pushing and pulling on each other during the shoot, which makes their muscles flex and makes the pose more dynamic.  

 My favorite shot is pure improv. She’s a trained ballerina and he’s an acrobat, so they know how to move their bodies in amazingly beautiful ways. Callisto was imitating Kate Winslet’s moment on the bow of the Titanic, played by David.

They were preparing for a pose like this. What a difference lighting and perspective makes (comparing my shot from the side vs. Josh’s professionally lit photo, shown here on his camera).

Now for the hard part: choosing a favorite image. I loved this photo for David’s amazing abs in this pic, but some readers felt that it didn’t show enough connection for the characters.

In the end, I chose the photos that felt right. Here’s the before and after for The Phoenix Candidate, the first book in the series:

And here’s the before-and-after for The Phoenix Campaign, book 2 in the series:

I hope you enjoy the series!

   

  Heidi Joy Tretheway Bio:

Heidi Joy is a sucker for campfires, craft cocktails, and steamy romance in books and real life. She sings along with musicals (badly), craves French carbs, and buys plane tickets the way some women buy shoes. Her first career as a journalist took Heidi behind the scenes with politicians, rock stars, chefs, and detectives, all of whom inspire her stories. Heidi Joy is currently working on her eighth book from her home in Portland, Oregon. She adores hearing from readers at author.heidi@gmail.com.

  Website | Facebook | Amazon Page | Goodreads | Twitter | BN | Newsletter signup   Enter Heidi's giveaway!!  

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::Broken by Lies by Rebecca Shae:: COVER REVEAL

Today we’re excited to share the cover of Rebecca Shea’s upcoming release, Broken By Lies! Broken By Lies is a new adult romantic suspense novel releasing on March 16^th 2015! 

:About Broken By Lies:

I had no idea how much I would love Alex the day he walked into my life. 

He changed everything. 

The way I breathed.

The way I thought.

The way I loved.

He brought me back to life. 

He gave me strength and a safe place to land.

And then he broke me. 

Finding Emilia was a chance to do something good for once in my life. 

I wanted to change. 

She believed I was her savior.

I ached to be.

She found her way into my heart and claimed it as her safe place.

I should be telling her the truth about me…instead I break her with lies.

This book is a New Adult Romance and contains mature subject matter. It is not intended for those under 17 years of age. 

:An Excerpt:

**unedited, subject to change**

“What can I do to help you, Emilia? What do you need?” I wonder what it is she truly needs, aside from the basics of shelter and food.

“Nothing. You’ve done enough for me already.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re letting me stay here, which is very kind and honestly very unsettling.” She lets out a little laugh. “I don’t know you. I know nothing about you, except your name is Alex. And quite frankly, this entire situation scares me a little bit.” It’s the first time she’s been open with me, and I want to put her fears to rest.

“What do you want to know?” I lean back against the cool brick wall and study her.

She sits cross-legged on the bed, her skirt tucked just inside her knees. “Do you always pick up girls from the side of a road and bring them home?”

“Nope. This was definitely a first.” I chuckle.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“What’s your last name?”

I hesitate, wondering what she’d find if she Googled me. “Estrada.”

“What do you do—your job?”

Shit. My family runs a fucking cartel. We smuggle drugs, people, guns—you know, living the American dream. I barely contain my cringe as I half-lie, “I own real estate and am co-owner of a transportation business.”

That wasn’t so hard.

She eyes me cautiously. “So you’re rich.” She glances out the open bedroom door into the condo that’s overbearing and way too extravagant for someone my age.

“I have money, enough of it that I’m comfortable, but I’m hardly rich.” I don’t know why I said that, but it’s true. While I have cars, a luxury condo, and more money than I can spend in my lifetime, there are so many things I’m missing. The things that truly make a person rich, I will never have—a nine to five job, a normal relationship, a family.

A spark of amusement hits her eyes. “What’s your favorite color?”

I give a small smile. “Blue.”

“Do you have any siblings?” she continues.

My brows furrow at this sudden onslaught of random questions. Before I can answer, she jumps in with the one I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to answer honestly.

“What scares you?”

I hesitate, wondering how to answer. Never show your fears. This is how I was raised. Men don’t show fear and they never talk about what scares them. “Nothing. I mean, I haven’t really thought about that.” I shrug. “Nothing scares me.” Everything scares me. My life scares me. The fact that I have to look over my shoulder every time I step out of my house scares the living shit out of me.

Pushing forward off the exposed brick wall, I come to where she sits on the bed. As I get closer, her eyes drop from mine to her hands that’re resting on the pillow in her lap. I stand over her thin body and drink in her beauty.

You scare me, Emilia. The feeling to protect and care for a beautiful stranger that I just met scares the living shit out of me.

“What scares you?” I ask her quietly.

She looks up at me, her bright hazel eyes glistening with tears. “Everything,” she whispers. “Everything scares me.”

I want to run my fingers across her cheek to wipe her tears but I hold back. “Don’t be scared. I won’t let anything hurt you."

It’s the first of many lies I’ll tell Emilia.

Add on Goodreads

:Pre-Order Broken By Lies on:

iBooks

:About Rebecca:

Rebecca Shea is the USA Today Bestselling author of Unbreakable. She lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her family and her beagle, Miles. From the time Rebecca could read she has had a passion for books. Rebecca spends her days working full-time and her nights writing, bringing stories to life. Born and raised in Minnesota, Rebecca moved to Arizona in 1999 to escape the bitter winters. When not working or writing, she can be found on the sidelines of her son’s football games, or watching her daughter at ballet class. Rebecca is fueled by insane amounts of coffee, margaritas, Laffy Taffy (except the banana ones), and happily ever after’s.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

COVER REVEAL - Very Twisted Things by Ilsa Madden-Mills

VERY TWISTED THINGS

Series: Briarcrest Academy #3 (all novels are standalones)

Author: Ilsa Madden-Mills

Release Date: February 2015

Cover Model: Drew Leighty

Genre: Hot New Adult for 18+

 

   

A sassy violinist who lives next door. An obsessed rock star who watches her through binoculars. And one night when she bares it all. Life will never be the same in Tinseltown.

Description: Vital Rejects front guy Sebastian Tate never imagined his YouTube music video would go viral, sky-rocketing him to acting success in Hollywood. Okay, maybe he did. After all, he’s a cocky dude who knows he’s hot-as-hell, and it was only a matter of time before his stars aligned. But life in Tinseltown is never what it seems. After being cheated on, his only rule to falling in love is simple: Keep Calm and Don’t Do It. Spying on his mysterious new neighbor with binoculars seems innocent enough, but quickly escalates into an erotic game between two very unlikely people. Twenty-year-old Violet St. Lyons is a world-renowned violinist who's lost her mojo on stage. She hides away in a Hollywood mansion, trying to find her way through her twisted past in order to make her future. He’s the life of the party with girls chasing him down for his autograph. She’s the introvert with a potty mouth who doesn’t even know who he is. When they meet, stars collide, sparks fly, and clothes come off. Yet, giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s. Welcome to Briarcrest Academy—Hollywood style—where sometimes the best things in life are VERY TWISTED THINGS.
 

ADD TO GOODREADS:

 

Prologue:   “Then he came along, and like a twisted piece of metal that’s burned beyond recognition, I emerged from the fire. Different. Changed.” –from the journal of Violet St. Lyons   This wasn’t happening. Clad in a pair of red lacy bikini underwear—his favorite—I sipped on tequila—not my favorite—and glared at Sebastian Tate, sexy rock star and billboard model. Wearing low-slung jeans and nothing else, he paced around my chair in tight circles, his tall frame blocking most of my vision, the lion tattoo on his back heaving as he took deep breaths. Blonde and sporting faint stubble on his chiseled jawline, he looked like the heartbreaker the tabloids said he was. Bad, bad boy. But, oh, so good. He sent me a hard look. Pissed. From my living room in the Hollywood Hills, I gazed out the window at the Santa Monica Mountains, my eyes everywhere except on the glossy nude photos he clutched in his hand. Of me. Of him. Of us. He swiveled his ice-blue eyes at me. Earlier today they’d burned with another kind of fire, but things change fast in Tinseltown. “These will be in the papers. Get ready,” he said, tossing down the pictures on the table, making me cringe. I gazed down at them, my eyes lingering over one of us on my patio, him on his knees with his mouth between my legs as my body arched in ecstasy. My skin burned at the memory, echoes of the passion we’d shared—and now everyone in the world would see. My family. The society people in New York. The board of directors for the orphanage. My stomach heaved at the thought, bile threatening to rise up. Another caught my eye, this one a full color close-up of me crying black mascara tears as I played my violin. Nude. It looked depressing as hell although in truth it had been love that made me emotional. “Remind me to pass on the make-up next time. And to not have sex outdoors. Obviously,” I said, forcing my shoulders to move in a nonchalant shrug like I didn’t care, but he knew the truth. I was devastated by these. And so was he. Because we weren’t supposed to be together. He said my name in that husky voice of his, the one that made me crazy, the one that made me want to rip his clothes off. “Violet—” “Stop,” I said, clenching my fists. Because whatever he had to say didn’t matter. These pictures ruined us, ensuring that he’d leave me for her, the beautiful Bubble named Blair. Bubble, bubble, bubble. I wanted to pop her. Why did I always come last with him? I stood and faced him, tossing back the last of my shot. “First off, I wish we’d never met.” I held my hand up. “No. Wait. I don’t wish that because then I wouldn’t know Spider or Mila. I—I wish I’d never fallen in love with you. Loving means losing. Always. And I was stupid to forget it. I may have to sell this house and move to another freaking country to get away from you, but I’ll do it. I’ve done it before.” I sucked in a breath. “I’ll be fine without you.” Lie. I would likely end up drunk on Mexican tequila, nursing what was left of my heart. He closed his eyes, a dazed expression on his face as if my words crushed him. “We were doomed from the very start,” I reminded him. “You want to be a star, and all I want is you.” He stopped his pacing, a muscle jerking in his cheek as he leaned down until his nose was level with mine. “Then this is goodbye, Violet? You’re giving up on us already?” Did I hear a break in his voice? Impossible. “If I don’t say goodbye first, then someone else will.” Truth. He’d never be mine, simply because he didn’t belong with me. I was a washed-up freak who had nothing but a mansion and a Maserati; he belonged on the silver screen with a pretty starlet on his arm. We were over. Kaput. I smiled, a bitter thing, and sashayed past him, enjoying the hiss of breath when I let my hand drift over his crotch. “This moment is begging for a soundtrack, don’t you think?” I said, coming to stop by the stereo system and cranking up Kurt Kobain’s Smells Like Teen Spirit. Holding my hands up in the horns rocking out signal, I bobbed my head to the beat while he watched, anger flickering across his face. I danced and twirled around, closing my eyes, the music vibrating through my body, my fingers itching for my violin. Bam! My eyes flew open. He’d strode over to me and clicked the stereo off, chest still heaving. He shoved his hands in my hair and dragged my face to his, and I groaned at the fire that blazed in my body. I felt the warm heat of his skin and pressed closer and inhaled. He smelled like bourbon and sex—a rock star’s diet—and I panted, cursing myself at the same time. How would I ever get over him? He pressed his thumbs across my mouth. Gentle. But his voice was cold. “You can’t wait to high-tail it back to Manhattan to your lawyer boyfriend, can you?” “I plead the fifth,” I said, staring at his full lips. I licked my own. “But you can kiss me goodbye if you want. I don’t mind.” We stared at each other until he exhaled heavily and put his back to me, his muscles as taut as the guitar strings he played. He verged on breaking. Yeah, well, welcome to my world. Yet at the same time, I reached my hand out to him. Stupid hand. But of course, he didn’t see it. “So long, V,” he said soft as a whisper, staring at the ground as if I was breaking his heart, when all along it was the other way around. He took a step from me, then another, then another, until finally, he was nothing but a speck. I clutched my chest and wanted to fall to the ground and rail on it. Alone. Again. But tough girls like me didn’t cry over black-hearted boys. Although in his defense, I owed him a thank you for saving me. To show you, I’d have to start at the beginning, the day I lost everything.   © Ilsa Madden-Mills, NYT and USA Today bestselling author --Unedited and may change before publication Available Now on Amazon Very Bad Things Very Wicked Beginnings Very Wicked Things Author Bio New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.   She spends her days with two small kids, one neurotic cat, and one husband. She collects magnets and rarely cooks except to bake her own pretzels.   When she's not crafting a story, you can find her drinking too much Diet Coke, jamming out to Pink, or checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash.   She loves to hear from readers and fellow authors.  

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