Monday, March 12, 2018

Echo is coming sooooooon!

Echo will be available for preorder in about eight days, but in the meanwhile, enjoy this special unedited sneak peek!

Add it to your Goodreads TBR pile!

Simon was out of his element, and completely out of control. He didn’t like it, but couldn’t dwell on it, as he was surrounded by twenty-four kindergarteners, intent on painting masterpieces.

He didn’t even have time to watch the woman, although he wished he could. After the first five awkward minutes, where he’d tried to break the ice with his self-deprecating comments about his suit, he’d been inundated with smelly five-year-olds.

And his suit was ruined, no doubt.

Honestly, he’d thought Mr. Hill wanted him on staff as security or something. He hadn’t clarified, which was his own damn mistake. Of course Mr. Hill would want him working alongside his daughter, in the most hands-on capacity he could.

He’d taken off the suit jacket after one kid—Alicia?—had splattered paint on it while he was helping her rinse her brushes. But he was afraid the dress shirt underneath was beyond repair, even though he was wearing a tie-died apron over his clothes. Thank god his sidearm was concealed in the holster under his shirt in the small of his back. He have to find something different for tomorrow. He was quickly realizing these kiddos had no concept of personal space, and he didn’t want to be the root cause of a tragic accident. Like shooting off his own ass.

After art time, was a snack, and Simon thought he was safe from more spills, but there he went thinking again. A young boy accidentally sprayed Simon through the straw of his juice box, and now Simon looked like he had a pee stain down his trouser leg. Oh well, at least it wasn’t his best suit.

By the time lunch rolled around, and another teacher had picked up the kids to take them to the cafeteria, Simon was a frazzled wreck. Thankful for the relative peace of the teacher’s lounge, Simon followed Lacie Hill like a beaten puppy dog down the hallway.

He’d packed a protein shake for lunch, not having a clue what would happen, and needing something easy. Now, he’d wished he had a shot of scotch instead.

“Is it always so loud?” He asked as he sat in the mildewed seats scattered around a long table.
Lacie only laughed at him, along with another woman.

Churlishly, he crossed his arms, drink in hand, and chugged it. This was a mistake. He should have assigned somebody else. Anybody else to the job. He’d rather get a contact high from following around a hippie folk singer.

“So you’ll sign the petition to get a margarita machine in the teacher’s lounge?” The other woman asked with a wry smile.

“Shit. I’ll buy it for us,” Simon muttered as he shook what was left in his shake before upturning it for the dregs.

Lacie was still laughing, a tinkling peal that sounded heavenly. Looking over at her, Simon marveled at the ever-present smile she wore. How could a woman who’d been attacked so many times over the past month be so damn happy? But the more he watched her, the more he noticed. She sat facing the door, and when someone came out of the restroom behind her, she snapped her neck around to see who it was. She tapped her fingers restlessly on the tabletop, a nervous gesture she may have inherited from her dad.

He wondered just how genuine the smile was.

“So, what brings you to our little part of the woods? You don’t look like you need the job.” Lacie was lounging in her chair, long legs stretched out in front of her, covered in some gauzy, broomstick style skirt. She wore a filmy, baggy blouse over the top of it, and her wrists were weighed down by clunky wooden bracelets. A matching necklace hung from her neck, strung with enormous wooden beads. Her long brown hair was braided down the side of her face—an open face, innocent, yet wary. She 
knew he didn’t belong here.

“I wanted something different. I used to be on the force in San Antonio, but retired.” He was keeping his lie as close to the truth as possible. Having done some undercover work, the lie rolled smoothly off his tongue. “I don’t necessary need the money, but I needed something to do with myself. I thought working with kids would be nice.” Okay, that last part was a stretch, but he was trying.

“Well, that makes more sense then. You didn’t realize you’d been hired as a classroom aide? That’s why you wore a suit?”

He chuckled, feeling more than a little sheepish. “Yeah. I thought it would be some sort of security position.”

“It probably is,” Lacie mused as she cast her friend a side-long glance. Thankfully, her friend changed the subject.

“So, Lacie, you up for drinks Thursday? You’re welcome to come too.” She turned to Simon. “It’s sort of our let our hair down night.”

His smile this time was genuine. “I’d like that.” He looked back over at Lacie, who was looking at him funny, and his smile dropped. She kept looking at him like that, and it made a volcano erupt inside him. Her mahogany colored eyes took on this sheen and her cheeks got a little ruddy, and Simon would get slammed with a heat so intense he felt like lava was running through his veins. Then she would drop her eyes to her lap or a kid or something, and he’d look away and everything would go back to normal.

He shifted in his seat. This kept happening between them. This heat. This was about the fourth time he’d been slammed with the volcano under his skin, and he needed it to stop.

“Trent will be there,” Lacie told her friend. “He’s gotten weird lately, so I don’t know how long he’ll stay, but he’s trying to make more of a point of spending more time with me.”

Shit. If Lacie were his girlfriend, he’d be with her twenty-four hours a fucking day, especially if there were guys stalking her. What sort of guy didn’t want to hang out with his girlfriend? He slapped that thought straight out of his head. He had absolutely no business going down that road, and had no idea where it had come from. Sure, Lacie was attractive. But she wasn’t his type. At all.

He needed to get laid.

But first he needed to call the office, see how Miriam was doing with the paperwork, and see if Quinten would help him move into his new house.

Not caught up on the series yet?  Craze is FREE!  All books are standalones, not cliffhangers.







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Friday, March 9, 2018

A day in the life of an author...

I can't tell you what exactly I've accomplished today, but I've been at my desk working most of the it...

Like, I've been monitoring a couple of facebook ads, watching my money go down the toilet.  This week, I've spoken with two facebook ad "experts," one actually FROM facebook, so I'm implementing some of their strategies (like the ever elusive pixel). 

And since I'm spending money on FB ads, I'm monitoring my sales numbers, which is a lot like watching a stagnant pond with a small eddy in the middle.  Spending more on ads than I'm making.  Sweet.  Good times.

But I woke up with one goal in mind: To finish revisions on Chapter six.  Chapter six is pretty wasted, in my opinion.  It's an opportunity to introduce lots of backstory and motivations through dialogue with different characters, thereby introducing them as well.  I've been reading some Kristen Ashley books, and realized her secondary characters are as well-drawn as her primary characters, and I want to be like Kristen Ashley.  Richness, detail, awesome story telling.  I've opened this chapter no less than nine times this morning to get this in there, and get it way better than an "Almost-Kissing Scene" without much else.

Alas, I've started my Pinterest board for this book series that releases in August, IF I CAN FINISH THE FREAKING BOOK.  I've had a conversation with a former firefighter about the fact all available images of bunker gear have firefighters posing, looking like cover models, instead of real firefighters. (Newsflash:  They actually wear clothes under the gear!)   AND I've had a fabulous discussion with a fellow author about the motivations and redemption of a character in a novel we both read and loved.  Oh, and I learned what SnowThunder is.

I have written about 500 words, but the chapter isn't finished.  I have some notes on what to do next, but not much else.  I'm thinking about the pub I go to more than my manuscript.  I may go write there.  It IS Friday after all...

Friday, February 23, 2018

#CoverReveal Echo--Pierce Securities #9--The Final Installment!

Echo--romantic suspense by Anne Conley in the Pierce Securities series.  
Cover Model: Devon Ryan
Photography: Tresal Photography
Cover Art: LoveBooks Cover Design


One attack in her home is enough to make Lacie Hill freak out, but a second is enough to make her check out. Lacie was happy with her solitary life—kindergarten teacher, weekly girls’ nights out, and a father she’s close to. When she’s targeted for sick games with unknown players, she forces herself to act normally and hope everything will go away. You know, ostrich impersonation. The police are doing everything they can to help. Nothing left for her to do, right?
When Lacie’s father hires Pierce Securities to help her, the only person not working a job would be the boss man, Simon— a control freak who loves his rules. He’s trying to find his sister’s stalker while keeping his micromanaging eyes on all the guys in the office. He has policies in place for reasons. For safety. For professionalism.
For his heart.
But will Lacie’s case be an echo of his past? Or will he be able to protect her and love her at the same time, breaking all his hard and fast rules?


Lacie Hill was painfully early to school, obtrusively to get ready for her day, but unobtrusively, to avoid her own home. As she walked around straightening desks and picking up papers, she gave herself a talking to. She was leaving all the negativity at home, where it belonged. She didn’t need to show her fear to her students. This was where they came to learn through play, and Lacie was all about teaching. She loved being a teacher, and watching the children as they grasped concepts and gained knowledge, even without knowing it. It was why she existed.
A knock at her door, and a familiar throat clearing had her turning around.
“Hi, Daddy!” With long strides, she walked over and hugged the man who had raised her after her mother died when she was eight. He rarely had time to come into her classroom, but had managed to visit more since last week. She hated that the evil following her had tainted his school the way it had, but at least it hadn’t managed to invade her classroom.
He squeezed her tightly, cocooning her in only the safety a father’s hug could. It wasn’t until she’d squeezed for a good thirty seconds that she saw the man standing behind him.
“I finally managed to get you an Aide for the classroom. Mr. Pierce is going to help you out with your students, and anything else you may need.” Her father stepped back, and the stranger held out his hand to shake hers. She almost didn’t see it, though, because… his eyes. The heat flashing in them as he stepped forward to shake her hand consumed her, a hunger that tracked through her veins and coursed around her body before it shuttered into a look of benign nonchalance. It was so fast, if it hadn’t have had such a physical effect on her body, Lacie might not have noticed it.
Lacie glanced at her father. Surely the new man was vetted and verified, because with everything that had happened, she was wary of strangers. The hunger that had flashed in his eyes had been terrifying.
And this guy was definitely strange.
For one thing, he was dressed in a suit. Lacie had never seen a teacher’s aide who dressed nicer than the teachers. Or the administration either. His suit was designer, she could tell that much. And it stretched across a frame that wasn’t used to sitting behind desks and working in classrooms. This Mr. Pierce was built like a small line-backer—broad shoulders, tapered waist.
But it was his eyes that struck her most. Gray eyes with a light green ring around the pupil gave them an eerie quality, but they were clear and held an intelligence that belied his position. Not that teacher’s aides were stupid by any means, but this guy did not fit into that mold. And the way he had looked at her sent shivers down her spine, and Lacie reminded herself again, that Daddy had checked the guy. But his look was full of something dangerous, hot, and feral, all wrapped into one darkening gaze.
“Ms. Hill,” he spoke, prompting her to realize she was staring at him.
“Sorry,” she held out her hand to shake his. “Mr. Pierce, it’s nice to meet you. I’m excited to be working with you.” Not that she had known about him, but knowing her dad, he’d probably busted his butt to get her someone in her classroom to help out since the tire-slashing incident last week.
As her hand touched his, Mr. Pierce’s grip surprised her. Warmth filled her hand, almost a zinging like what she’d read about in romance novels. Which she’d always thought was stupid. But she had the inane desire to shake the tingling off her hand when he let go. His had was calloused, as if he was used to working. Although, if the muscles that seemed to shape the suit were any indication, he probably lifted a lot of weights. And apparently had an electrical socket hidden in there somewhere. The buzz of electricity that flowed up her arm was ridiculous, but he didn’t seem to notice it, with the exception of his sharpening gaze.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it, then,” her father said awkwardly before backing out of the room. “Have a great day, sweetheart.” He winked at her, then left Lacie alone with the stranger in the suit who was supposed to help her all day.

Stay on top of Anne's releases, by stalking her everywhere!

And don't forget!  Craze, the first book in the Pierce Securities series is FREE and the second, Wire, is only .99!







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About Anne:

Anne has written her entire life and has the boxes of angst-filled journals and poetry to prove it. She’s been writing for public consumption for the past several years. Currently, she has four romance series. In Stories of Serendipity, she explores real people living real lives in small town Texas in a contemporary romance setting. In The Four Winds, she chronicles God’s four closest archangels, Uriel, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael, falling in love and becoming human. In Pierce Securities, she gives us Ryan, Evan, Miriam, Zack, Quinten, and Simon. Her newest series, Book B!tches, is all about a group of women in Mystic, Texas who get into all sorts of shenanigans. 

She lives in rural East Texas with her husband and children in her own private oasis, where she prides herself in her complete lack of social skills, choosing instead to live with the people inside her head.

Visit her website for more information and sign up for her newsletter:

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Cover Reveal - Whispers in the Dark by LeTeisha Newton - #DarkRomance

I was captured …

That’s just the beginning of my tale. I’ve survived Purgatory, abuse, and near death. In that abandoned farmhouse I nearly lost everything, but Jacob saved me. We were trapped in this hell together, giving each other the strength to hold on. I fell into darkness with my captor’s son.

Until I left him behind.

She was perfect, my Alana. Brilliant and full of pain. She understood my darkness and fueled the fire. When she left, I waited patiently to find her, and in her honor, I killed men who took away from innocents.

Then I found her …

She’s deadly now, a killer too, and perfectly mine. It was beautiful to behold, but she belongs in a cage. My cage. She’ll love me again, or I’ll expose her dirty secrets for the world to see while going down in flames with her.

In darkness, it’s most definitely till death do us part.

Warning: This book is full of triggers. It’s wicked dark, with created evil falling in love. People die. They are hurt horribly. The bad guys get away, and there is no apology for it. Hardcore trigger within these pages.

Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha Newton’s love of romance novels began long before it should have. After spending years sneaking reads from her grandmother’s stash, she finally decided to pen her own tales. As many will do during their youth, she bounced from fantasy, urban literature, mainstream, interracial, paranormal, heterosexual, and LGBT works until she finally rested in contemporary romance.

LeTeisha is all about deep angst and angry heroes who take a bit more loving to smooth their rough edges. Love comes in many sizes, shapes, and colors, as well as with—or without—absolute beauty and fairy tale sweetness. She writes the darker tales because life is hard … but love is harder.

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Live today!

When London was fifteen, a fortune teller told her she would meet her soul mate on June 23rd. The only problem is, which June 23rd? The woman wasn’t specific and only called him her dreamer. Desperate to find her mystery man eleven years later, London sets out to search for him but is waylaid by a mugger instead.

Elliot has had his eye on the woman who jogs past the park where he coaches his nephew’s baseball team for the past month. When he’s the first responder for a mugging victim on June 23rd, she’s barely conscious. She’s the woman tattooed on his chest. He’s seen her in his dreams and has been drawing her for years.

They’ll both sound crazy if they reveal their secrets, but they can’t stay away from each other. Elliot has priorities, promises made to his late sister. London’s trying to live a more intentional existence instead of waiting for everything to fall in her lap.

Can they fulfill the destiny predicted by the fortune teller? Or will fate be undone?
You can find ALL the #MeetCute books in the collaboration here:
Boy meets girl. It's the way romances usually begin . . . and while we all love a happy ending, it's the #MeetCute that wins our hearts.

Grab your copy of Fortune's Kiss!

How did you two meet?

The #MeetCute Books each have a unique answer to that query. Some might make you swoon, others might make you giggle . . . and some may make you blush.

Twelve authors. Twelve stand-alone contemporary romance novels. Twelve stories that will make your heart beat a little faster.

Because it's all about the #MeetCute.

Amazon UK:


Excerpt from Fortune's Kiss: 
He lowered his mouth to hers in a tender touch of their lips. She could feel the warmth of his lips on hers, and they explored in a leisurely kiss as if they had all the time in the world. Sounds of the carnival faded away as they rose higher into the sky.
Elliot surprised her by not getting handsy. He only touched her neck, wrapping his hand around it while his other hand went to her waist. He seemed content to just kiss her and not do anything else.
She returned his kisses, luxuriously running her tongue across his teeth, exploring the recesses of his mouth with a whimper. The kiss was perfect; it didn’t ask for anything or make demands. London relished the feeling of rightness in this moment with Elliot.
London suddenly understood a fundamental truth about couples in general. She kissed Elliot because the setting was perfect. It wasn’t a claiming thing or an interest in going further, it was a kiss. She kissed him because the intimacy of the gesture showed her desire to be close to him, and not in a sexual way.
She’d always thought holding hands and kissing in public were signs of possessiveness, but they weren’t. Instead of possessiveness, she realized it showed a desire to be close—to maintain contact in a way that was acceptable to others.
And this kiss was perfect.

The leisurely contact, as she wrapped her arms around Elliot’s waist to pull him closer, was amazing. There was absolutely no other place in the world she wanted to be right now. She was in her thirties and had never kissed a man like this.
A throat clearing had them pulling apart reluctantly to find the Ferris wheel had stopped and the tattooed, toothless attendant was standing there with a giant grin on his face. “Magic in the air, tonight! Want another go?” Bushy eyebrows waggled at them.
London couldn’t have told him her name after that kiss, much less the story behind it. She was afraid if she went on another turn with Elliot, he’d have her kissed into brain mush.
Elliot got out, a small smile on his face, and turned to hold out his hand to London. Shetook it and, weak-kneed, managed to stumble out of the Ferris wheel carriage before another couple got on.
Leading Elliot down the midway, they were silent as she digested the way she felt right now. She wanted more with Elliot, and he was the first man to ever make her feel that way. He held her hand as they walked, and London’s traced her swollen lips with her fingers as she stared at the ground in front of her.
His hand was massive, wrapped around hers, and spoke of safety, protection, and belonging. Their hands swung absently between them as they weaved in and around people. The lights flashing, bells ringing, and people laughing all faded into the distance as London was just present with Elliot.
“That woman is waving you over, London.” Elliot’s soft voice spoke the first words since they’d gotten off the Ferris wheel.
London’s head snapped up, her eyes focusing on the woman he pointed to. It was her.
The fortune-teller.
The dimly lit tent at the end of the midway looked so familiar, even twenty years later. The woman looked the same—old and wizened, with a wild array of dark curls spilling around her face.
“I know her.” Not really, but she’d dreamed of this woman so many times, remembering her, wondering about her. They walked over to the fortune-teller, ignoring all else. “Hi,” London said stupidly. “How’ve you been?”
The woman’s dark eyes went from London to Elliot before her face broke into a smile. “I see you found your dreamer. Do you feel it?” London wasn’t sure what she felt, but she felt something, so she nodded.
Part of London wanted to go inside the tent and see if it had changed, but another part of her didn’t think this was real. She looked up at Elliot, who was watching the woman with a bemused expression on his face. Okay, so he saw her, maybe she was real.
The woman turned her attention to Elliot, who stiffened under her scrutiny. “Destiny is difficult … Very difficult …” Her attention back on London, she said, “You’ve found him, now keep him.”
She went back into her tent, and London tugged Elliot away.
“Friend of yours?” he asked, laughing nervously.
“Not exactly. More of an acquaintance.” London turned to look back at the tent, and as before, it was engulfed in darkness, as if there was no one there. “Take me home.” Elliot’s eyes darkened under the lights of the carnival, and he wrapped his hand around her waist, his fingers lingering just above her butt.

“With pleasure,” he spoke with a promise that took her breath away.