release date –  June 22nd

BOOK BLURB:

Eighty seven billion dollars.
One dead New York business mogul.
No heirs.
No wives.
No relatives.
Eighty seven billion dollars.
Not hers yet.
He doesn’t deserve them.
He doesn’t know what to do with them.
She does.
She always has.
Eighty seven billion dollars.
He’s overwhelmed.
She’s prepared.
That will should have had her name.
Not his.
Eighty seven billion dollars.
His looks are a bonus.
Her looks are her weapon.
He’s fighting a losing battle against his heart.
He doesn’t know it yet.
Eighty seven billion dollars.
She gets everything she wants.
He’s what she wants.
Love has nothing to do with it.
To get to where you’re going, sometimes you need to step on a few people to get there.
Good thing her heels are sharp.

EXCERPT: 

It was raining on the day of Harold’s funeral. Everything was overcast, and just gloomy enough to drop a layer of grey on the city. “Appropriate weather,” said one sober news anchor the morning of the funeral, “to mourn the death of one of the biggest men of New York.”

It was appropriate, and it worked wonders for the mood, but it did nothing good for Cedar’s hair. She had her makeup artist come over early in the morning, and helped her with a face that said “I’m mourning the loss of a person very dear to me, but I look fabulous while doing it”. Her outfit was going to be reported in every major newspaper in the country, because that’s who she was. And so she dressed appropriately. And had memorized the eulogy she was going to give, which was mostly lies. But nobody really cared. The funeral wasn’t actually a place for people to mourn the death of Harold Feingold. The funeral was a place for people to reassure themselves of their importance and their place in society. Not just anyone was invited to Harold Feingold’s funeral, because not everyone was worthy. The journalists had a separate corded area to watch and observe but to never forget for even a second that they were never going to be good enough to actually be invited to anything like this. Cedar had made sure only the reporters she approved of were coming to the funeral, and the rest of the paparazzi were located behind a line of the best security guards money could get.

It wasn’t just a funeral. It was an event.

And even though nobody attending the funeral would ever admit to it, going to Harold Feingold’s funeral was the same as going to a showing at the Gallery. It wasn’t for the reason they said they were going, and even if it was something they normally wouldn’t have ever done, they were more than happy to go. Get dressed in an outfit that people wouldn’t forget, mingle with the right people, and glory in where you were in life.

If you had to buy an extraordinarily expensive piece of art or cry a few tears, well, that was the price of admission for these kinds of things.

The casket was there when Cedar made her way into the church, followed by the insistent flashes of the paparazzi, silently clamoring for the best angle of her. Cedar Reynolds was a commodity, and even the paparazzi knew that. So, she wasn’t an actress or a singer, or anything else like that, and even though she wasn’t a Rockefeller or Astor or Thames, she was Cedar Reynolds, and everything she touched turned to gold. They all knew she wasn’t to be trifled with, and none of them had the guts to even try. They knew what happened to those who did, and none of them wanted to go down that road.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:KK Hendin’s real life ambition is to become a pink fluffy unicorn who dances with rainbows. But the schooling for that is all sorts of complicated, so until that gets sorted out, she’ll just write. Preferably things with angst and love. And things that require chocolate. She’s the author of the NA contemporaries HEART BREATHS and ONLY THE GOOD DIE YOUNG.

THIS MUCH SPACE is the second book in her new series, TWELVE BEATS IN A BAR.

KK spends way too much time on Twitter (where she can be found as @kkhendin), and rambles on occasion over atwww.kkhendinwrites.blogspot.com.

Website   **   Twitter   **   Facebook   **   Goodreads

 Today is a teaser and excerpt reveal for the KISSING EDEN Box Set by T.A. Foster! This set contains the two full-length novels KISSING EDEN and LOVING EDEN, and the novella A VERY GREY CHRISTMAS. Today we will be highlighting the second book in the set, LOVING EDEN! This set is available now and buy links are below.

SUMMARY:

Kissing Eden Box Set

Get swept up in spring break fever in South Padre, Texas with Eden and Grey.

Set contains two full-length novels and one novella.

Kissing Eden
Have you ever thought of taking a vacation alone? I mean step on a plane, check into your hotel, and lie on the beach completely and utterly alone. No? Me either, but then right before senior spring break I got dumped.
Something about break ups makes you do things you didn’t want to do, and try things you didn’t know you were capable of.

That’s how I ended up at the Palm Palace.
That’s how I met Grey.
That’s how my spring break turned into the most unforgettable week of my life.

Loving Eden
Have you ever thought of packing up everything you own and moving halfway across the country?

I’m talking about leaving your entire life behind—friends, family, school—with no turning back. No? Me either, but that was before a week of spring break changed my life forever. Before I did something I never thought I’d do at twenty-two. Before I fell in love with Grey.

Sometimes happily ever after isn’t always what you think it will be.

A Very Grey Christmas
I was getting ready to spend the single most important holiday of the year alone. Completely and utterly alone.

That meant he wouldn’t be there Christmas Eve. No making Christmas cookies, or listening to my dad sing off-key while my mom bustled around wrapping last-minute gifts. No decorating the tree. No midnight Christmas kiss.

No waking up in Grey’s arms. We were actually going to spend our very first Christmas in different states.

That was until Grey gave me the most unexpected gift of my life.

Add the book to GOODREADS.

EXCERPT from LOVING EDEN:

I kicked the back tire twice. It was already deflated. My frustration was pointless. Seriously, how could I have a flat tire? I stared at the rubber as it formed a pancake on the shoulder of the road. I didn’t see anything protruding from the mangled mess, but who knows what happens on these back Louisiana highways.
I pulled out my phone to call roadside assistance. There was no way I was driving another inch on that thing.
“Hi. Yes, this is Eden Brady. The trailer I rented from your company has a flat tire. Can you send someone to change it out?”
“Where are you, ma’am? And I need your rental ID number.”
I looked at the swampy canal on my left and the rows of sugar cane on my right. I had no idea where I was, only that my trip was on hold and I was completely stranded. I searched the canal waters warily, wondering if there might be critters in there I didn’t want to meet.
“There was a detour and I was rerouted.” I sighed. It wasn’t as if I memorized all the highway numbers. “Let me check my phone.” If the map on my phone could pinpoint where I was, I’d have something to share. “It looks like I’m on state road 101.” There were no mile markers or exits. Only swamps and sugar cane. I unfolded the rental slip from my pocket and read the numbers in the right-hand corner to her.
“Ok, I see your reservation in our system. It will be at least an hour before we can dispatch someone in your direction.” Her voice was crisp, not at all the comforting tone I needed right now.
I cringed. I had already garnered five catcalls from slow-rolling pickup trucks and I’d been standing here less than ten minutes.
“An hour? Isn’t there someone closer than that?”
“No, ma’am.” The operator was losing her patience with me. “He’ll be there as soon as he can.”
Before I could ask anything else, she hung up. I looked at my phone. Next time I moved, I would definitely go with another company. She didn’t need to get snippy. I was the one on the side of a Louisiana back road.
I trudged to the cab of the truck and climbed into the air-conditioned cabin. There was nothing cool about September in this part of the South.
My entire life was in the back of this truck. The bedroom set I bought when Taylor and I moved into our first apartment. Boxes of books that I couldn’t seem to part with and their bookcase. Suitcases of clothes. My first pair of cowgirl boots.
I flipped on the radio. Who does this? Who packs up her entire life and drives halfway across the country by herself? I do. Because part of me can’t seem to believe that I’m no longer coasting through life alone. I had to prove that I could take care of myself. To me, that meant making the move from Chapel Hill to South Padre Island one hundred percent alone. No parents. No friends. Above all options, that meant no Grey.
The strategy was to make the trip in two days. I had a route planned that included an overnight stay in Montgomery, Alabama. That part of the journey was smooth. I made it to the hotel before dark, checked in to my room, and called Grey to tell him I was safe and sound. The first half was over and I made it without a speck of help.
This morning, I hopped out of bed at six, ready to finish the last half of this travel feat. I had a hot cup of coffee, listened to the parking lot birds sing, and pulled out of Montgomery with a smile on my face. As Alabama faded in my rearview mirror, I felt the confidence surge through my veins. I was driving the biggest rental truck the company carried, with my car on a trailer behind it. It didn’t get much braver or bolder than this. I even learned how to pump diesel fuel at the truck stops. The trick was to wear gloves. I was quickly becoming a truck-driving expert.
I had to make this statement. Grey needed to know I could do things on my own. I needed to know that, just because I was in love, it didn’t mean I couldn’t make change happen in my life. I was still in control.
The second I saw the back tire on the trailer scorched with smoke and I pulled alongside the shoulder, all those proud certainties fizzled. This sucked.
I slouched in my seat and checked the mirror in case the service car had arrived. Nothing. Plenty of cars slowed to have a peek at my dilemma and me, but not a single car in that lineup included a man with a spare tire.
I thought about calling Grey, but if I told him where I was, he would get in his truck and start driving. No matter how many times I tried to convince him I could handle the situation and everything was under control, he would drive straight to me. That’s what Grey does. That’s why I fell in love with him.

 BUY LINKS:

Amazon Link: amzn.to/18XeLfB

B&N Link: bit.ly/1btskEV

Smashwords: bit.ly/1EG4FrX

a Rafflecopter giveaway

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

T.A. Foster once spent a monthlong spring break on South Padre Island, where she soaked in the Texas sun, beach, and learned what real Texas country music is. Sometimes fiction does spring from reality.

She grew up catching rays and chasing waves along the North Carolina Outer Banks and now resides in the state with her adventurous pilot husband, two children, and two canine kiddos.

T.A. has an undergraduate degree in Journalism and Mass Communication from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a graduate degree in Educational Psychology from Texas A&M University. When she’s not chasing her two-legged and four-legged children or trying to escape for date night, you can find her reading, writing, or planning her next beach trip.

Author Links:
Blog  **  Twitter  **  Facebook  **  Author Goodreads