Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Cover Reveal : The Naked Truth by Vi Keeland

The Naked Truth
by Vi Keeland

Release Date:
July 23rd, 2018


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Cover Reveal Hosted by:
InkSlinger PR


It was just a typical Monday. 

Until the big boss asked me to make the pitch for a prospective new client. 

After two years on shaky ground at work because of my screw up, an opportunity to impress the senior partners was just what I needed. 

Or so I thought… 

Until I walked into the conference room and collided with the man I was supposed to pitch. 

My coffee spilled, my files tumbled to the ground, and I almost lost my balance. 

And that was the good part of my day. 

Because the gorgeous man crouched down and looking at me like he wanted to eat me alive, was none other than my ex, Gray Westbrook. 

A man who I’d only just begun to move on from. 

A man who my heart despised—yet my body obviously still had other ideas about. 

A man who was as charismatic and confident as he was sexy. Somehow, I managed to make it through my presentation ignoring his intense stare. 

Although it was impossible to ignore all the dirty things he whispered into my ear right after I was done. 

But there was no way I was giving him another chance, especially now that he was a client…was there?  

About the Cover: 
Photo Credits: Mondadori Portfolio/Paolo Stella 
ARTeProduction/Jonathan Segade
Model: Bredariol-D'men 
Cover designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

Exclusive eBook pre-order available at 
iBooks ➜  

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Amazon, B&N, Kobo, Google Play (ebook) 
No pre-order is available but signup to receive notice when the book goes live! ➜ 

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About the Author:

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. With more than a million books sold, her titles have appeared in over fifty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in ten languages. She lives in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.    

Chapter Reveal : A Wish for Us by Tillie Cole

A Wish for Us
by Tillie Cole

Release Date:
June 11th, 2018


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Chapter Reveal Hosted by:
Ardent Prose PR


From the author who brought you A Thousand Boy Kisses comes the new emotional novel, A Wish For Us. A story of music. A story of healing. A story of love conquering all.

Nineteen-year-old Cromwell Dean is the rising star of electronic dance music. Thousands of people adore him. But no one knows him. No one sees the color of his heart. -Until the girl in the purple dress. She sees through the walls he has built to the empty darkness within. 

When Cromwell leaves behind the gray skies of England to study music in the South Carolina heat, the last thing he expects is to see her again. And he certainly doesn’t expect that she’ll stay in his head like a song on repeat. 

Bonnie Farraday lives for music. She lets every note into her heart, and she doesn’t understand how someone as talented as Cromwell can avoid doing the same. He’s hiding from his past, and she knows it. She tries to stay away from him, but something keeps calling her back. 

Bonnie is the burst of color in Cromwell’s darkness. He’s the beat that makes her heart skip. 

But when a shadow falls over Bonnie, it’s up to Cromwell to be her light, in the only way he knows how. He must help her find the lost song in her fragile heart. He must keep her strong with a symphony only he can compose. 

A symphony of hope. 
A symphony of love.
A symphony of them.

Pre-Order Links:

Chapter 1:

Cromwell Brighton, 

The club pulsed as the beat I was pouring into the crowd took over their bodies. Arms in the air, hips swaying, eyes wide and glazed as my music slammed into their ears, the rhythmic beats controlling their every move. The air was thick and sticky, clothes slick to people’s skins as they crammed into the full club to hear me. I watched them light up with color. Watched them get lost to the sound. Watched them shed whoever they’d been that day—an office worker, a student, a copper, a call-center worker—what the hell ever. Right now, in this club, most probably high off their faces, they were slaves to my tunes. Right here, in this moment, my music was their life. It was all that mattered as their heads flew back and they chased the high, the near nirvana I gave them from my place on the podium. I, however, felt nothing. Nothing but the numbness the booze beside me was gifting me. Two arms slipped around my waist. Hot breath blew past my ear as full lips kissed my neck. Spinning my final beat, I grabbed the Jack Daniels beside me and took a shot straight from the bottle. I slammed the bottle down and moved back to my laptop to mix in the next tune. Hands with sharp fingernails ran through my hair, pulling on the black strands. I tapped on the keys, bringing the music down low, slowing the beat. My breaths lengthened as the crowd waited, lungs frozen as I brought them to a slow sway, readying for the crescendo. The epic surge of beats and drums, the insanity of the mix that I would deliver. I looked up from my laptop and scanned the crowd, smirking at seeing them on the precipice, waiting . . . waiting . . . just waiting . . . Now. I slammed my hand down, holding my headphones to my left ear. A surge, a thundercloud of electronic dance music plowed into the crowd. Bursts of neon colors filled the air. Greens and blues and reds filled my eyes as they clung to each person like neon shields. The hands around my waist tightened, but I ignored them, instead listening to the bottle of Jack as it called my name. I took another shot, my muscles starting to loosen. My hands danced over the laptop’s keys, over my mix boards. I looked up, the crowd still in the palm of my hand. They always were. A girl in the center of the club drew my attention. Long brown hair pulled back off her face. Purple dress, high necked—she was dressed nothing like everyone else. The color surrounding her was different to the other clubbers—pale pink and lavender. Calmer. More serene. My eyebrows pulled down as I watched her. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t moving. She was still, and she looked to be completely alone as people crashed and pushed around her. Her head was tipped up, a look of concentration on her face. I built up the pace, pushing the rhythm and the crowd as far as they could go. But the girl didn’t move. That wasn’t normal for me. I always had these clubbers wrapped around my finger. I controlled them, in every place I spun. In this arena, I was the puppet master. They were the dolls. Another shot of Jack burned down my throat. And through another five songs, she stayed there, on the spot, just drinking in the beats like water. But her face never changed. No smile. No euphoric high. Just . . . eyes closed, that damn pinched look on her face. And that pink and lavender still surrounding her like a shield. “Cromwell,” the blonde who was all over me like a rash said into my ear. Her fingers lifted up my shirt and tucked into the waistband of my jeans. Her long nails dipped low. But I refused to tear my eyes away from the girl in the purple dress. Her brown hair was starting to curl, sweat from being sandwiched by clubbers taking its effect. The blonde who was one step from wanking me off in full view of the club snapped my fly. I keyed in my next mix, then grabbed her hand and threw it away from me, snapping my fly closed. I groaned when her hands slid back into my hair. I looked at my mate who had spun before me. “Nick!” I pointed to my decks. “Watch this. And don’t mess it up.” Nick frowned in confusion, then saw the girl behind me and smiled. He took my headphones from me and moved to make sure the playlist I’d set up played on cue. Steve, the club’s owner, always let a few girls backstage. I never asked for it, but I never turned them down either. Why would I refuse a hot bird who was up for anything? I swiped my Jack off my podium as the blonde smashed her lips to mine, pulling me back by my sleeveless Creamfields shirt. I wrenched my mouth from hers, replacing it with the Jack bottle. The blonde dragged me into a dark spot backstage. She dropped to her knees and started again on my fly. I closed my eyes as she went to work. I sucked on the Jack as my head hit the wall behind me. I forced myself to feel something. I glanced down, watching blond hair bounce below me. But the numbness I lived with every damn day made me feel virtually nothing inside. Pressure built at the base of my spine. My thighs tightened, and then it was over. The blonde got up. I could see the stars in her eyes as she looked at me. “Your eyes.” She reached out a finger to trace around my eye. “The strangest color. Such dark blue.” They were. Coupled with my black hair, they always drew attention. That and the fact that I was one of the hottest new DJs in Europe, of course. Okay, maybe it was less to do with my eyes and more to do with my name, Cromwell Dean, gracing the headline spot on most of the biggest music festivals and clubs this summer. I zipped up my fly and turned to see Nick spinning my next mix. I cringed when he failed to transition the beats like I would have. Navy blue was the backdrop to the smoke on the dancefloor. I never hit navy blue. I brushed past the girl with a “Thanks, love,” ignoring her hiss of “Prick” in response. I took my headphones off Nick’s head and put them on my own. A few taps of the keyboard later, the crowd was back in the palm of my hand. Without conscious thought, my eyes found their way to the spot where the girl in the purple dress had stood. But she’d gone. So had the pale pink and lavender. I threw back another shot of Jack. Mixed another tune. Then zoned the fuck out. ***** The sand was cold under my feet. It may well have been the start of summer here in the UK, but that didn’t mean the night wind didn’t freeze your balls off the minute you stepped outside. Clutching my bottle of booze and my cigarettes, I dropped down to the sand. I lit up and stared at the dark sky. My phone buzzed in my pocket . . . again. It’d been going off all night. Pissed off that I actually had to move my arm, I pulled out my mobile. I had three missed calls from Professor Lewis. Two from my mum, and finally, a couple of texts. Mum: Professor Lewis has been trying to get hold of you again. What are you going to do? Please just call me. I know you’re upset, but this is your future. You have a gift, son. Maybe it’s time for a fresh start this year. Don’t waste it because you’re angry at me. Red-hot fury shot through me. I wanted to throw my phone in the damn sea and watch it sink to the bottom along with all this messed-up shit in my head, but I saw Professor Lewis had texted too. Lewis: The offer still stands but I need an answer by next week. I have all I need for the transfer except your answer. You have an exceptional talent, Cromwell. Don’t waste it. I can help. This time I did drop my phone beside me and sank back into the sand. I let the rush of nicotine fill my lungs and closed my eyes. As my eyelids shut, I heard quiet music playing somewhere nearby. Classical. Mozart. My drunken mind immediately drifted off to when I was a little kid . . . “What do you hear, Cromwell?” my father asked. I closed my eyes and listened to the piece of music. Colors danced before my eyes. “Piano. Violins. Cellos . . .” I took a deep breath. “I can hear reds and greens and pinks.” I opened my eyes and looked up at my father as he sat on my bed. He was staring down at me. There was a funny expression on his face. “You hear colors?” he said. But he didn’t sound surprised. My face set on fire. I ducked my head under my duvet. My father pulled it down from my eyes. He stroked my hair. “That’s good,” he said, his voice kind of deep. “That’s very good . . .” My eyes snapped open. My hand started to ache. I looked at the bottle in my hand; my fingers were white as they gripped the neck. I sat up, my head spinning from the mass of whiskey in my body. My temples throbbed. I realized it wasn’t from the Jack, but from the music coming from further down the beach. I pushed my hair back from my face then looked to my right. Someone was only a few feet away. I squinted into the lightening night, summer’s early rising sun making it possible to make out the features of whoever the hell it was. It was a girl. A girl wrapped in a blanket. Her phone sat beside her, a Mozart piano concerto drifting quietly from the speaker. She must have felt me looking at her, because she turned her head. I frowned, wondering why I knew her face, but then— “You’re the DJ,” she said. Recognition dawned. It was the girl in the purple dress. She clutched her blanket closer around her as I replayed her accent in my head. American. Bible Belt was my guess, by her thick twang. She sounded like my mum. A smile tugged at her lips as I stayed mute. I wasn’t much of a talker. Especially when my gut was full of Jack and I had zero interest in making small talk with some girl I didn’t know at four in the morning on a cold beach in Brighton. “I’d heard of you,” she said. I stared back out over the sea. Ships sailed in the distance, their lights like tiny fireflies, bobbing up and down. I huffed a humorless laugh. Great. Another girl who wanted to screw the DJ. “Good for you,” I muttered and took a drink of my Jack, feeling the addictive burn slide down my throat. I hoped she’d piss off, or at least stop trying to talk to me. My head couldn’t take any more noise. “Not really,” she shot back. I looked over at her, eyebrows pulled down in confusion. She was looking out over the sea, her chin resting on her folded arms that lay over her bent knees. The blanket had fallen off her shoulders, revealing the purple dress I’d noticed from the podium. She turned to face me, cheek now on her arms. Heat zipped through me. She was pretty. “I’ve heard of you, Cromwell Dean.” She shrugged. “Decided to get a ticket to see you before I left for home tomorrow.” I lit up another cigarette. Her nose wrinkled. She clearly didn’t like the smell. Tough luck. She could move. Last time I checked, England was a free country. She went quiet. I caught her looking at me. Her brown eyes were narrowed, like she was scrutinizing me. Reading something in me that I didn’t want anyone to see. No one ever looked at me closely. I never gave them the chance. I thrived on the podium at clubs because it kept everyone far away, down on the dancefloor where no one ever saw the real me. The way she was looking at me now made nervous shivers break out over my skin. I didn’t need this kind of crap. “Already had my dick sucked tonight, love. Not looking for a second round.” She blinked, and even in the rising sun, I could see her cheeks redden. “Your music has no soul,” she blurted. My cigarette paused halfway to my mouth. Something managed to stab through my stomach at her words. I shoved it back down until I felt my usual sensation of numbness. I sucked on my cigarette. “Yeah? Well, them’s the breaks.” “I’d heard you were some messiah or something on that podium. But all your music comprised was synthetic beats and forced repetitive bursts of unoriginal tempo.” I laughed and shook my head. The girl met my eyes head-on. “It’s called electronic dance music. Not a fifty-piece orchestra.” I held out my arms. “You’ve heard of me. Said so yourself. You know what tunes I spin. What were you expecting? Mozart?” I glared at her phone, which was still playing that damn concerto. I sat back, surprised at myself. I hadn’t talked that much to anyone in . . . I didn’t know how long. I took in a drag, breathing out the smoke that was trapped in my chest. “And turn that thing off, will you? Who the hell goes to hear a dance DJ spin, then comes to a beach to listen to classical music?” The girl frowned but turned off the music. I lay back on the cold sand, closing my eyes. I heard the soft waves lapping the shore. My head filled with pale green. I heard the girl moving. I prayed she was leaving. But I felt her drop beside me. My world darkened as the whiskey and the usual lack of sleep started to pull me under. “What do you feel when you mix your music?” she asked. How the hell she thought her little interview was a good idea right now was beyond me. Yet, surprisingly, I found myself answering her question. “I don’t feel.” I cracked one eye open when she didn’t say anything. She was looking down at me. She had the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen. Dark hair pulled off her face in a ponytail. Full lips and smooth skin. “Then that’s the problem.” She smiled, but the smile looked nothing but sad. Pitying. “The best music must be felt. By the creator. By the listener. Every part of it from creation to ear must be wrapped in nothing but feelings.” Some weird expression crossed over her face, but hell if I knew what it meant. Her words were a blade to my chest. I hadn’t expected her harsh comment. And I hadn’t expected the blunt trauma that she seemed to deliver right to my heart. Like she’d taken a butcher’s knife and sliced her way through my soul. My body itched to get up and run. To pluck out her assessment of my music from my memory. But instead I forced a laugh, and spat, “Go back home, little Dorothy. Back to where music means something. Where it’s felt.” “Dorothy was from Kansas.” She glanced away. “I’m not.” “Then go back to wherever the hell you’re from,” I snapped. Crossing my arms over my chest, I hunkered down into the sand and shut my eyes, trying to block out the cold wind that was picking up and slapping my skin, and her words that were still stabbing at my heart. I never let anything get to me like this. Not anymore. I just needed some sleep. I didn’t want to go back to my mum’s house here in Brighton, and my flat in London was too far away. So hopefully the cops wouldn’t find me here and kick me off the beach. With my eyes closed, I said, “Thanks for the midnight critique, but as the fastest-rising DJ in Europe, with the best clubs in the world begging for me to spin at their decks—all at nineteen—I think I’ll ignore your extensive notes and just keep on living my sweet as fuck life.” The girl sighed, but she didn’t say anything else. The next thing I knew, the sun was burning its light into my eyes. I flinched when I opened them. The screech of swarming seagulls slammed into my head. I sat up, seeing an empty beach and the sun high in the sky. I ran my hands down my face and groaned at the hangover that was kicking in. My stomach growled, desperate for a full English breakfast with copious cups of black tea. As I stood, something fell from my lap. A blanket lay on the sand at my feet. The blanket I’d seen beside the American girl in the purple dress. The one she’d been wrapped in last night. I picked it up, a light fragrance drifted into my nose. Sweet. Addictive. I glanced around me. The girl was gone. She’d left her blanket. No. She’d covered me with it. “Your music has no soul.” A hard clenching feeling pulled in my stomach at the memory of her words. So I chased it away like I did anything that made me feel. Caging it deep inside. Then I took my arse home.

About the Author:

Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city. 

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel. 

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters. 

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels. 

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate. 

Monday, May 28, 2018

Promo Tour : The Darkest Sunrise (The Darkest Sunrise Duet, #1) by Aly Martinez

The Darkest Sunrise
The Darkest Sunrise Duet, #1
by Aly Martinez

Release Date:
July 13th, 2017


Add to Goodreads

Promo Tour Hosted by:
InkSlinger PR

Author via BT Host

eARC received in exchange of honest review


Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me. 

Whoever coined that phrase is a bald-faced liar. Words are often the sharpest weapon of all, triggering some of the most powerful emotions a human can experience. 

“You’re pregnant.” 

“It’s a boy.” 

“Your son needs a heart transplant.” 

Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me. 


Syllables and letters may not be tangible, but they can still destroy your entire life faster than a bullet from a gun. 

Two words—that was all it took to extinguish the sun from my sky. 

“He’s gone.” 

For ten years, the darkness consumed me. 

In the end, it was four deep, gravelly words that gave me hope of another sunrise. 

“Hi. I’m Porter Reese.” 

The Darkest Sunrise, book one in The Darkest Sunrise duet by Aly Martinez is now on sale for just #99pennies

The Darkest Sunrise (Book One):  

Also, you can grab book two now! 

The Brightest Sunset (Book Two): 

(This duet is currently only available through Amazon)

Review The Darkest Sunrise:

Grab a drink, a few snacks and clear your schedule to read one of the most emotional and all-consuming stories ever!!! Aly Martinez wrote a fantastic duet that is a MUST on every bookworms TBR list. I'm a huge fan of this author and her words always captivate me from beginning to end!

The Darkest Sunrise is the first book in The Darkest Sunrise Duet. In this book, we are introduced to Charlotte Mills and Porter Reese. The story starts with a tragic event in Charlotte's life and each moment that we live during this reading journey is an emotional roller coaster ride of emotions. A meeting with sexy and intriguing Porter Reese will bring a breath of fresh air in her world of darkness. Until her world falls apart again.

Charlotte and Porter are two of the most fascinating characters that I have ever met! Their slow burning romance made my heart beat faster and their love story is simply phenomenal. I loved how their were perfectly imperfect for each other and how they found each other in the darkness. Their banter was life and their chemistry gave me all the feels!!

I absolutely loved the supporting cast of characters in this book. From Porter's kids to Charlotte's mom, they all brought a touch of awesomeness to this story. I love when I not only connect with the main characters, but with the supporting cast as well. I was cheering for Charlotte and Porter since the first moment and I have no doubt that the conclusion to their story will be EPIC!


I give, The Darkest Sunrise, by Aly Martinez, 4.5 captivating, emotional, all-consuming stars!

Review The Brightest Sunset:

Oh my world!!! What an epic conclusion to a phenomenal duet. Aly Martinez wrote an all-consuming love story for Charlotte and Porter. Her writing style is sublime and the ending of this book left me with a huge smile on my face and a heart bursting with joy.

You absolutely need to read The Darkest Sunrise before reading The Brightest Sunset. The story picks exactly where it ended in the first book and OMG!! That cliffhanger was Gah!!!!! I can't even deal with the last words of the first book. I was left at the edge of my seat and could not wait to see what would happen next!

I don't want to spoil this story for anybody so I will not recap the storyline of this book. Every reader needs to experience this fantastic reading journey just like I did. I only read the blurb to the first book and the rest is history! You will not be able to put these books down once you start them. I read them in one sitting and I refused to do anything else until I read the last word of Charlotte and Porter's beautiful and inspiring love story.

I completely melted for this couple in this book. I already loved them in book one, but the conclusion to their story is simply unforgettable. I love how much these characters have not only grown as a couple, but as individuals as well. Life has thrown them obstacles that are heartbreaking. I laughed, cried and cheered with them. This is a love story that you do not want to miss and an eye opening reading journey that will linger with you for days! Phenomenal work by Aly Martinez!


I give, The Brightest Sunset, by Aly Martinez, 5 intense, passionate, page-turning stars!

About the Author:

Originally from Savannah, Georgia, USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez now lives in South Carolina with her four young children. 

Never one to take herself too seriously, she enjoys cheap wine, mystery leggings, and baked feta. It should be known, however, that she hates pizza and ice cream, almost as much as writing her bio in the third person. 

She passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a super-sized tumbler of wine by her side.

Friday, May 25, 2018

Book Tour : Headmaster by Jaimie Roberts

by Jaimie Roberts

Release Date:
May 17th, 2018

Taboo Romance

Add to Goodreads

Book Tour Hosted by:
Jo&Isa♡Books Promotions 

Author via BT Host

eARC received in exchange for an honest review



I’m allowed to crush, but blurring the lines is strictly forbidden. 

At one time, I had truly believed that I’d experienced enough drama in my life. 

Clearly, I’d been wrong. 

It all began the night before I was due to start my final year of school—the night of my eighteenth birthday. Since I had been considered “missing” for three years, I had failed to finish off the last year of my education. This was why I needed to let loose a little. I was turning eighteen and was finally legal to drink, so, why not? The next morning, I would be going to school with a bunch of ladies three years younger than I was. Even if it was for no other reason, I felt this entitled me to have a little fun. 

The night started off well enough: 
Girl meets boy. Girl gets dared to buy boy drink and kiss him within fifteen minutes of receiving said drink. 

It sounds like it would have been plain and simple, right? 


I had no idea that his kiss would be the kiss to end all kisses. One taste of him, and I was lost for the first time in all my eighteen years. 

But I wasn’t meant to feel anything… Three years of living in Hell had taught me that. But, this man … just … awakened me. 

I went home that night feeling both alive and scared shitless at the same time. 

However, that wasn’t the worst of it. 

The very next day at assembly in school, we were all introduced to our new headmaster… 

None other than the very same man who had—just the night before—locked lips with me in the most hypnotic, take-your-breath-away kiss I had ever had. 

Yeah, I am seriously screwed. 

He’s a forbidden fruit that I long to taste again. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get that kiss out of my head. So badly, I want to escape him, his presence, his ... everything. 

It seems, however, that the universe has other ideas. 

Purchase Links:
1-Click for ONLY 99c or read FREE with KindleUnlimited. Amazon US |  Amazon UK  


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Jaimie Roberts is a new author to me. One of my main goals in 2018 is to discover as many new authors as I can. When I saw the cover for Headmaster on social media, it captivated my attention to click on the link and read the blurb. This is a taboo romance and I really enjoyed my first reading escape by Jaimie Roberts.

A scorching kiss with a stranger on her birthday changes Sasha's life forever.  She can't stop thinking about Easton and she's shocked to find out that he's the new Headmaster at her school. They try to fight their attraction, but they can't deny the intense passion between them. Sasha is trying to forget about the past and build a new life for herself. Will Easton have a role in this new journey? Their romance is forbidden, but their connection is growing stronger with each day that passes. 

The chemistry between Sasha and Easton was hot and captivating. I had no trouble connecting with them as a couple, but it took me a bit of time to connect to the entire story. It was a reading journey with different emotions. My heart broke for Sasha on many occasions because of what happened to her. I don't want to give out any spoilers about this part of the story, but it was a very difficult journey for Sasha at times. Overall this was a great reading escape!


I give, Headmaster, by Jaimie Roberts, 3.5 stars!

About the Author:

Jaimie Roberts was born in London, but moved to Gibraltar in 2001. She is married with two sons, and in her spare time, she writes. In June 2013, Jaimie published her first book, Take a Breath, with the second released in November 2013. With the reviews, Jaimie took time out to read and learn how to become a better writer. She gets tremendous enjoyment out of writing, and even more so from the feedback she receives.