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Cover & Excerpt Reveal – Unwritten Law

Posted on by 2kasmom

Release Date: September 5, 2018

Cover Design: Angsty G

 

Synopsis:

 

Being an identical twin doesn’t come without issues. 

 

No one can tell us apart, not even our parents sometimes. We don’t usually use that to our advantage, but it comes in handy when my brother needs help breaking up with his boyfriends—which happens more than I’d care to admit. I know it’s enabling him, but I can’t say no to Anders. I will do anything for my twin. The breakups always go the same; they’re swift and simple.

 

Until Reed.

 

He’s everything I’ve fantasised about but never allowed myself to have. When I give in to temptation and begin to freak out, it’s not because he’s a guy. It’s because he thinks I’m my brother, and I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth.  

 

Goodreads

 

 

 

 

Excerpt:

 

 

LAWSON

 

I’m going to come clean. That’s the plan as I enter Reed’s building and head up to the second floor. I’ll lay it all out there and tell him everything:

 

I was the one he hooked up with.
 
It’s me he’s been texting.
 
I’m not straight. I’m bi.
 
I want no strings attached sex with him while I figure this whole thing out.
 
I am not my brother and never have been …
 
But then he’s going to ask why, and the only response I’ll have is because of reasons I can’t say. Fuck. This isn’t going to work. He’ll want to know why I was the one who turned up for their date and not Anders. I won’t betray my brother like that.
 
Oh, so pretending to be him is okay, but telling someone Anders was almost killed is crossing a line?
 
“Shit,” I hiss under my breath and lean against Reed’s doorjamb.
Damn, hardwood floors and long corridors make noise travel. Before I know it, and before I have time to retreat, Reed’s door flies open.
 
There he stands, wearing a lime-green polo shirt and jeans, looking hot enough to fuck, and my mouth decides it’s not time to cooperate.
 
Tell him.
 
Reed steps forward and yanks me into his apartment, closing the door with a slam. Fisting my shirt, he pulls me against him. For a small window, I think he knows it’s me and not Anders. It’s as if all the things I need to say are understood without me having to open my mouth. Wishful thinking, obviously, because when he closes his mouth over mine, I’m no longer able to tell him anything. And when he murmurs, “Thank fuck, you changed your mind,” I know my delusion isn’t real. He still thinks I’m Anders, and I’m going to let him continue to think it.
 
I’ve never understood people who cheat on a partner until now. While this isn’t cheating, it is wrong, and I thought my conscience would be yelling at me to stop. Never have I been able to turn off that side of my brain, but as Reed’s tongue pushes into my mouth, there’s nothing but him and me and the promise of everything I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.
 
With women, I’ve always been the dominant one—the one in control—but right now, I’m ready to throw every ounce of restraint out the window. Reed can take it all.
 
“I want you to fuck me,” he says against my lips.
 
The command has my balls tightening. “O-okay.” I sound unsure—too unsure.
 
Reed pulls back. “You down for that? I mean, I could go either way if you prefer … I’m an equal opportunist.” He winks.
 
I grab his hips and bring him against me, determined not to let this opportunity pass me by because of nerves. “I want to fuck you, but you have to do something for me.”
 
“What’s that?” Reed smirks.
 
“I need you to tell me exactly what you like.”
 
He leans in, his smile never wavering, and whispers, “Everything.”
 
“Get specific. Tell me what you want me to do. And use your teacher voice.”
 
“You have a teacher fantasy?” Reed’s eyes glimmer.
 
“If I do?” I don’t really, but this could be a fun way to learn a few tricks. And if Reed finds it weird that Anders has a teacher fetish when his twin brother is one, he doesn’t say anything. Thankfully.
 
“You better get to work by undressing me.” Reed’s voice is exactly what I want. Rough, confident, and so damn hot.
 
I reach for the hem of his shirt, but before I can lift it off him, he stops me.
 
“Slowly.”
 
I grin. I could so get into this game.

   

 

 

Giveaway:

One of Five ARC’s for Unwritten Law

 

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About the Author:

 

Eden Finley is an Amazon bestselling author who writes steamy contemporary romances that are full of snark and light-hearted fluff. 

 

She doesn’t take anything too seriously and lives to create an escape from real life for her readers. The ideas always begin with a wackadoodle premise, and she does her best to turn them into romances with heart. With a short attention span that rivals her five-year-old son’s, she writes multiple different pairings: MM, MMF, and MF.  She’s also an Australian girl and apologises for her Australianisms that sometimes don’t make sense to anyone else.  

 

Connect with Eden:

 

Newsletter Sign Up: http://bit.ly/2owAsgY

Facebook Author Page: http://bit.ly/2GMjfag

Facebook Reader Group: http://bit.ly/2t1KqM4

Goodreads Author Page: http://bit.ly/2ouFzya

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2HQnyCv

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2EV9Roi

BookBub Author Page: http://bit.ly/2ouhBDq

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kitty’s Book Spot! #500 Follower Giveaway!!

Posted on by 2kasmom

 

 

Just want to thank all of you for being so supportive of my book addiction.

 

Kitty’s Book Spot! twitter feed hit 500 followers and I felt the urge to say thank you.  Please enter the GIVEAWAY below and win 1 of the (2) $5 Amazon Gift Cards I am giving away.  2 winners will be drawn with the help of Random.org.  Any questions, please comment below or PM me on my twitter account. (@2kasmom)

 

Thank you to all my readers!

 

 

 

 

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There is still time to Enter some GIVEAWAYS!

Posted on by 2kasmom

We had a successful & fun BLOGIVERSARY party today!  If you missed it, you can still click here: https://www.facebook.com/events/579662015505734/ and enter teh giveaways that are not closed yet.

 

Some of the authors that were presented today were:

 

Elle Kennedy

 

 

Michelle Irwin

 

 

 

Elley Arden

 

 

Kennedy Ryan

 

 

 

Alison Foster

 

 

 

CM Doporto

 

 

 

Brinda Berry

 

 

 

… and that is just to name a few…

 

 

Don’t miss out!  These giveaways are closing soon and winners will be chosen and announced by 9pm (Pacific Time) 11/5/2015.

 

Celebrate with us all week long!

Posted on by 2kasmom
ALL WEEK LONG!
Stay tuned ALL WEEK, for new books and giveaways!!





(**Celebration of 1st blogiversary is based on main blog site at 2kasmom.Booklikes.com)

Blog Tour – Have You Seen This Girl?

Posted on by 2kasmom
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL? 
Author: Carissa Ann Lynch
Series: Flocksdale Files #1
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
– SYNOPSIS –
Wendi Wise is a troubled young woman who snorts her breakfast through a straw and spends more time in rehab than in the real world… 
Her life is seemingly out of control.
But now she has a plan.
That plan involves a sharp set of butcher knives.
She’s going back to where all of her troubles began…
Flocksdale.
Wendi was lured away from a local skating rink, at the age of thirteen, and held captive in a place she calls ‘The House of Horrors.’ Dumped off blindfolded on the side of a dirt road, Wendi soon discovered that she was addicted to the drugs they fed her while she was captive.
Too scared to go home, and having a new habit to deal with, she hopped on a bus, vanishing from the family she loved.
Vanishing from Flocksdale…
The town of Flocksdale is littered with fliers with a grainy image of young Wendi, and the words ‘Have You Seen This Girl?’ written below.
Now, eight years later, she’s on a mission—a mission to find the mysterious house from her youth and the monsters who dwell inside it.
“This is the end, beautiful friend, the end…”
 
– PURCHASE –
★ Paperback: http://amzn.to/1Q6FAhr
– Available for FREE with #KindleUnlimited –
 
– BOOK TRAILER –
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ciiesyL2Jnc
– PROLOGUE –

Present Day: I lost my straw three hours ago, which sucks because it was my favorite one. Getting up to look for it seems like a painstaking, insurmountable task right now, but I pull myself up to a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The “bed” is nothing more than a dingy, rust-colored mattress that lies on the floor of a two-room basement apartment in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

The threadbare carpet that covers the floor provides no support for my feet, and frankly, it stinks. I get down on my knees and lay my face flat against the carpet, holding my breath and peering under an ancient, stained armchair and the dresser that stands beside it. Now, where the fuck is that straw?

All I can see are dust bunnies, mouse droppings, and the carcass of a cockroach. No straw. I let out a frustrated groan. I give up searching, stand back up, and pad across the hall to the tiny bathroom I share with my current boyfriend, Michael, or “Mick” when he thinks he’s cool. I plop down on the toilet, running my hands through my tangled mop of greasy black hair.

I wait for the pee to come. Then wait some more. I can remember one of my old AA mentors, telling me once why opiates interfere with bodily functions like peeing, for instance. It was something about wires in the brain getting crossed…I wish I had a stopwatch to time this affair, but then it finally comes and I let out a sigh of relief.
Mick’s clothes from the night before are strewn across the bathroom floor at my feet. Suddenly I have a thought, and begin rummaging through the pockets of a brown pair of khaki shorts that I remember him wearing last night. I find what I’m looking for: a tattered black wallet, worn out from age and being sat on all day long. I open it up and peer inside. It only contains two dollars, but that’s fine by me—all I need is one.
Pulling out the faded, crumpled bill, I smooth it flat against the round edges of the wash basin. Once flattened, I begin slowly rolling it into a perfectly cylindrical mini-version of my straw. It’s basically perfect.
The dope is in my bedroom drawer, along with my razor. Using the tiny blade, I lovingly chop the heroin until it is fine and powdery, and then use the rolled up dollar bill to suck it straight up my nose. Its taste hits the back of my throat instantly and drains down through my sinuses, a sensation I used to loathe but have grown to love.
Wiping the residue from my nose noisily with the back of my hand, I glance at Mick, who is still passed out on the bed. Getting high makes him sleepy, but it fills me with an insatiable need to do something productive.
Our bedroom is dotted with tiny land mines of crumpled t-shirts, inside-out jeans, and day-old panties. I make my way around the room, picking them up and tossing them all into a wicker laundry basket in the corner.
Besides the bedroom and bathroom, we have a small, windowless sitting area, a narrow galley kitchen, and a small extra bedroom that we use for trash and other random items. I move my cleaning to the living room, gathering up snack wrappers and empty Solo cups, and then carry them into the small silver garbage can under the kitchen sink. The sink is filled to the brim with two-day-old dishes, so I start filling the sink with water and shampoo.
I’ve been out of dish soap for weeks now, but the hair care product seems to get the job done so I don’t complain. The water from the faucet never gets hot because our gas got shut off months ago. If I want hot water, I have to boil it.
This all sounds ridiculous, I know. This is the twenty-first century, but my addiction has me back in the Stone Age, because when you’re an addict, you don’t spend money on things like food, water, clothes, electricity…you spend it on drugs. At least the truly hardcore addicts like me do.
Crusty teacups, sauce-covered plates, and sour-smelling utensils permeate the water, rising steadily to the brim. I plunge my hands into the frigid, cloudy water and begin mindlessly washing.
For the past six months, our daily life can be divided into three segments: looking for money to buy heroin, finding the drug, and then getting high. Oh, I almost forgot about the fourth segment: coming down from the drug—my least favorite time of day. Our entire life revolves around heroin and our bodies rely on it to function. It’s not about getting “high” anymore because I never feel lifted or high-spirited, or overly anything these days. We wake up feeling low and we need it to feel normal. Maybe they should change the expression to “getting normal” or “avoiding feeling like shit,” instead of “getting high.”
Today will be different though. Today I have a date with my good friend rehab, and in six hours from now, my daily routine should change dramatically. Mick isn’t going, but I’m fine with that. He’ll do his own thing when he’s ready. I’ve been planning this for a month now, and finally the phone call came: a bed opened up at the local in-patient clinic and today is the day to report.
I’ve been to rehab before, and will mostly like go again after this stint, but everything is about to change. This time around, major plans have been made for when I get out of rehab.
Those plans involve me and a sharp set of butcher knives, but I’ll explain that later.

Perhaps you’re wondering how I got this way. Or perhaps you don’t give a damn. Either way, this is my story. It’s not a story about addiction. This is a story about murder.

– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –
CARISSA ANN LYNCH
Besides my family, my greatest love in life is books. Reading them, writing them, holding them, smelling them…well, you get the idea. I’ve always loved to read, and some of my earliest childhood memories are me, tucked away in my room, lost in a good book. I received a five dollar allowance each week, and I always — always — spent it on books.
My love affair with writing started early, but it mostly involved journaling and writing silly poems. Several years ago, I didn’t have a book to read so I decided on a whim to write my own story, something I’d like to read. It turned out to be harder than I thought, but from that point on I was hooked.
My first and second books were released by Sarah Book Publishing: This Is Not About Love and Grayson’s Ridge. I’m a total genre-hopper. Basically, I like to write what I like to read: a little bit of everything! I reside in Floyds Knobs, Indiana with my husband, three children, and massive collection of books. I have a degree in psychology and worked as a counselor.
– SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS –
– GIVEAWAY – 

Enter for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card (INT!) or a SIGNED PAPERBACK of Have You Seen This Girl? by Carissa Ann Lynch (USA!).
ENTER HERE: http://on.fb.me/1MeqntF

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