Friday, January 8, 2016

Book Blitz: Saving Angels Series Box Set by Annie Rose Welch

Annie Rose Welch – Saving
Angels Series
On Sale for $1.99 until
January 11th, 2016

Buy Links:

Amazon AU:

Synopsis, Excerpts and

Marigny Street – Saving
Angels #1


Do you believe in the power of dreams? 

Way down south on Marigny Street in the heart of
New Orleans, the land of Catholic intercessions, purgatory, and supernatural
superstitions, young Evangeline Chenier dreams of a radiant boy who saves her from a storm. She takes the dream seriously – in her family, dreams are sometimes more than dreams. Sometimes they foretell the future. Sometimes they create it. 

Years later, Eva is no longer the same wistful girl but a hardened woman who no longer believes in dreams. Losing faith in her gift, she becomes lost in a nightmare of emotion, mourning her son, separating from her husband, and stewing in a dead-end job. And then fate brings her an unlikely surprise: one of the most famous movie stars in the world, Gabriel Roberts. 

Caught by something in his eyes, Eva agrees to show him the real Big Easy on his last night in New Orleans—an evening that turns into four dreamy days spent recapturing lost faith and discovering a love neither expected. Realizing Gabriel is the boy from her childhood dream, Eva must leave everything behind—her husband, her family, her history, and the beautiful city she calls home—and gamble it all for the dream that has saved her on MARIGNY STREET.


I shook my head. “Tell me, Gabriel, what are your dreams about?”
“Nothing.  I never dream.”  He shrugged. “Never?”
“I’ve never once in my life had a dream.  And I never look in a mirror – or I try my hardest not to anyway.” “Why?”  How could you never dream?  Or look in a mirror?
He sighed.  “I believe the only things in this life that can truly show your reflection are the things you love the most in this world.  And I don’t love myself enough to want to look in the mirror.” He laughed.  “But when I look at you I can see myself perfectly.  And even though I never dream, I do pray.  Do you want to know what I prayed for before I met you?”
I nodded.
“I prayed for an angel – to save me.  I asked for a little help from up above, and now you’re here.  You are cake and ice cream; sugar and spice,
and everything nice.  And when you smile, you make me feel the way the world looks when the sun shines through a foggy day.”
All I could do was smile.


Synopsis, Excerpts and Teasers

Red Dirt Road – Saving Angels #2


The Saving Angels Series continues…

A new cast is introduced, while journeys already taken start to merge with the present, leading you down the old Red Dirt Road.

Death has always seemed just one step behind Layla Hill, taking almost everyone she’s ever loved. After she loses the love of her life, Layla vows to never love again—how could she, when she’s a death

Trying to outrun fate traveling with her uncle Willie and his band, Layla meets Michael Roberts, a beautiful Irish boxer as gentle on the piano as he is brutal in the ring. He proves as relentless in life, fighting for a place in her world even as she pushes him away, trying to protect him from her killer tendencies.

But neither foresees the sinister presence waiting for Layla at the end of the Red Dirt Road.


“Yes, you do.  The games we both play.  The way you constantly run away from me.  How you hide in your office and watch me from afar, from behind the window blind.  Do you need me to point out the indention you’ve made?  I see you, just like you see me when I’m watching and looking for you.  I refuse to love you from afar anymore.  This is ridiculous!”

“No, it’s not!  Yes, okay, I admit, I do watch and dream
about you, because it’s the only thing I can do, the only way to keep you safe
and satisfy myself.  I refuse to lose you.  I won’t.”

“You’re not going to lose me.  Please, stop putting those thoughts in your
head.  I cannot promise you that I’ll live forever, but I’ll try my hardest to stay with you for as long as God’s willing to allow me.”

“Which won’t be long when the universe confuses you for me and takes you from me.”

The honesty was spilling out – slightly slurred but freely given. 

“There is no force in the world that could take me away from you.  I was meant for you.  I was created for you.  I can feel it.  I come alive when you’re near me.  Can’t you see that?”

He pulled my face toward his, forcing me to look at him.

“You’re killing me by forcing me away, yet you worry about my life being taken.
You can’t see that you’re doing that yourself by pushing me away!  You need to stop living life this way.  You’re wasting your gift.  Before you know it, your life is going to be over and so is mine, and there will be no going back.  So please, it would be an honor to love you, freely, without any hesitation.  You’re going to have to decide, right now: what do you want.  Do you want me to leave?  Or do you want me to stay and love you?  Let me love you!”

The choice seemed so easy – it was either life or death – but I was so confused.

“I don’t know…” He slammed his hands against the wall.

“Tell me!  What do you want, Layla?”


Synopsis, Excerpts and Teasers

Lotus Blossom Lane – Saving Angels #3


Life after Yuma was blissful for Layla and Michael.  After the turmoil of the
old Red Dirt Road, their journey seemed to be moving them in the right
direction, leading them to Ireland, Michael’s birthplace, where history runs
deep and secrets run even deeper.  As the road to happily-ever-after leads them down Lotus Blossom Lane, years of entombed history starts to emerge, changing the course of their lives forever.  And the person waiting for them
at the end of Lotus Blossom Lane, one of the biggest starts in the world, will
bring them to the Crossroads of the Saving Angels Series.


“Can you believe this?” I closed my eyes, and the tiny specks felt like confetti falling delicately on my face.

He turned my face toward his. “Look into my eyes, Mrs. Roberts,” he whispered. “There’s nothing on this earth more gorgeous
than you, in this moment. I refuse to take my eyes away from you.” He continued to search my eyes, just as if he was seeing me for the first time. “From this moment on, you’ll never be alone. Never, for as long as we fly together, will I ever let you fall.” He rested his forehead against mine.

“I love you,” I breathed onto his lips as the snow continued to fall around us, turning the earth bright white in the pitch-black darkness.


Synopsis, Excerpts and Teasers

The Crossroads– Saving Angels #4


How do you get there, darlin’? Well, na’, you start by taking Brighten Place.
Follow that road all the way down to Marigny Street. After you travel a little
distance you’ll come to an old Red Dirt Road, and that road will take you even further, to Lotus Blossom Lane, but you’ve already been that way. Na’ you’re exactly where you should be, darlin’. You’ve arrived at The Crossroads of your life.
Gabriel Roberts is the most famous movie star in the world. He has everything one man could ever want. He has everything except the one thing he feels will fulfill his purpose and complete his life.
Raphael Rose is dying of pneumonia. As he waits on the waning clock of mortality to chime, he has a story to share. One of star-crossed lovers he has never lost hope for.
Two doors down, Madam Catalina has her own story – a shocking past, a love of a lifetime left undone.
Locked behind the doors of Charity Hospital during Hurricane Evangeline, the tangling of souls has unraveled and left each of them at the crossroads of their life. And in the end, whichever road they choose will lead them home.


But there is a charge between us that cannot be ignored. It’s too strong, and there seems to be a light created from the two of us. I don’t know if it’s the
tension of issues, the heat, all of the strange occurrences and discoveries
over the last couple of hours, or all of the above, but I throw myself on her.

I crush my mouth against hers, forcing her back to the wall. A slight moan
escapes her mouth as she pulls me closer, runs her hands through my hair. She leaps up, her legs wrapping around my waist, her hands somehow lifting my shirt. The momentum sends me crashing into the shelf behind us. Things fall around us in disarray. But nothing else matters. She has something I
desperately need.

I feel her body, all of it, her tender flesh, her nirvana curves as I run my lips
back and forth against the base of her throat. I can feel the beat of the pulse
beneath her skin throbbing against me. I can taste the salty sweat on her skin,
but it’s mixed with sweetness, like delicious wild honey. And I can’t seem to
get enough, as my tongue finds the delicate skin just above her breasts, making a trail back to her lips.

She pulls away from the kiss, my teeth lightly biting on her bottom lip. She sways back and forth with the rhythm and the rocking of our bodies moving in perfect harmony. She comes toward me again, our lips meeting in some desperate plea. Her hair falls wildly around us, only making her seem unreal. I moan into her mouth, knowing she can feel the vibration of my need against her tongue, while my fingers get lost in the thickness of her hair. I can spend my forever kissin’ on her this way, buryin’ myself, losing myself in her this way.


Synopsis, Excerpts and Teasers

Sparrow Way– Saving Angels #5


The final journey of the Saving Angels series has come to an end. All roads have led you to….

“What’s the address?” she asks.

“Eleven Sparrow Way.”

She closes her eyes for a moment. “I like that. Our journey has flown us here, flown us home….”

Gabriel Roberts found his happily ever after at The Crossroads of his life. He found his brother, Michael, his history in the Legion, and the love of
his life, his Evangeline. He has finally arrived at the place he always yearned for—home.

But time stops for no one; not even an angel.

For years Gabriel has guarded what is most precious to him, Evangeline and their transcendent love story. When the opportunity presents itself in an unexpected way, Gabriel decides to tell his story, and in doing so, answers the riddle of his heart: If life is the journey of years, perhaps love is the journey of a lifetime?

The concierge had arranged for us two cruising bikes so that we could explore the area and voyage to the famous restaurant that we had heard so much about.
Eva hops on the purple one, sticking me with the pink one that has a wicker basket attached to the front. “That’s for the fly comment.” She snickers.
“Real men work pink,” I say. “Or so Brad says. He told me my coloring is perfect for pink.” We cruise into the misty day, the sun barely shining
through the many Monterey cypress trees that line the hilly area. Eva
steadies her bike and releases the handle- bars. She spreads her arms wide like a bird spreading its wings. 
As we peddle, I hear music in the distance
floating from one of the houses on the opposite side of the street. I
listen harder, trying to place the beat. 
“Do you hear that?” I bounce a bit from the turbulence of the tires.
Eva grabs the handlebars. “I would never leave you alone...something, something, something.” “Hell yeah!” I beat the handlebars with my thumbs to
the heavy pace of the drums. “Eva, ‘I’ll be’...” I sing some of the song. “I love The Karate Kid! This place reminds me of the movie.”
“That’s about the only movie you do like.”
“It’s a classic, like Rocky. And if we weren’t riding these bicycles, I’d show you my karate moves! Hi-ya!” I chop the air. “What are you laughing about? You just don’t know the moves your husband has!”
“Hold on, Gabriel-san! Banzai!” Eva shouts, before we go flying down a steep street.
“I love it here. I feel like I can breathe better! The air seems lighter.”
“Don’t get used to it. “We’re not taking up permanent residency
in the big shake.” I take the camera from the basket as the bole straightens
out. I slow down a bit, getting a prime shot of her butt bouncing up and down
on the seat. “The scenery is quite beautiful, though.” 
She looks behind for a second. “Race you!” She starts going faster and I have to take the camera and throw it in the basket to peddle harder.


Author Bio:

Born and raised in New Orleans, Annie has a habit of
shortening her words and telling long stories. She speaks with a southern flair
and cooks with it too. At the tender age of twenty- one, she hitched up her
wagons (took her first plane ride) and moved out west to the big shake

Her writing career began one sleepless night when she imagined a gorgeous woman and a man with maniacal hair floating above her like lightening bugs falling from the sky. Curious about them, their story, and why they were floating around in her head, she sat down and penned (typed)
her first novel, Marigny Street. A dream come true for her, she hasn't stopped
writing since. She loves a damn good love story, always has, no matter what the genre. She is particularly moved by imperfect love that in its own unique way is perfect, the notion of love at first sight, soul mates, and things that are
generally out of the norm.

When she's not writing she enjoys dabbling in
photography and finding new, inspirational music to add to her collection.
Deciding on a whim to hitch up those same wagons, Annie currently resides in Texas (where everything is bigger) with her husband, daughter, and their two peculiar dogs, Boudreaux and Tabasco (who, call her crazy, bark with an

For lagniappe (a little extra), a virtual cup of café au lait and beignets, please visit Annie's website: 

She can also be found on Facebook & Twitter.

Cover Reveal: Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells by S. Ann Cole

Yes Mr Van Der Wells Cover
Title: Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells
Author: S. Ann Cole
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 16, 2016
I’m running.
Running for my freedom.
Running for my life.
I’m running because everything hurts.
And all I want to do is breathe.

The old me was bold and wild and reckless and privileged.
The new me is timid and freak-stricken and weak and broken.
All I want is freedom.
All I want to do is breathe.

A complicated relationship? That’s the last thing I’m about right now.
Something casual and easy? I’m down for that.
But he is not.
He wants to own me.
He wants me to own him.
He wants to save me.
I’m too terrified to give in.
All. I. Want. To. Do. Is. Breathe.
But it turns out, Noah is the air that I need to do that…

Noah’s eating his breakfast and sipping my abandoned coffee when I return from my “shower”. He’s looking like the picture of wealth in a gray V-necked sweater and black slacks, damp hair finger-groomed back from his face.

He scans me as I reenter the kitchen, while I raise an eyebrow at my coffee in his hand. “You showered again?”

My palms smooth down the front of my uniform. “Yep. Felt a little icky from the spilled coffee.”

Taking a sip of my coffee, he shifts his eyes to my hair. “Coffee got in your hair, too?”

My hand reaches up to pat my hair. It’s damp, held up with a claw clip. Uh-huh, I’d ducked my head under the shower to drown my pathetic masturbation noises, because, well, I’m hella vocal.

Yes,” I stress, fixing a hand to my hip, daring him to challenge that, even though he very well could, considering he saw and knew the coffee splashed only my feet. “And why are you drinking my coffee? You couldn’t pour your own?”

Cutting a piece of pancake, he slathers it around in a sea of syrup before forking it into his mouth. “I pay you to do that.”

He has a point, so I don’t lip further and pour myself a new cup of coffee.

Noah finishes up, wipes the corners of his mouth, and fixes his gaze on me. Again. “I notice you don’t run at all. Mornings, or evenings. That morning in the park in Brooklyn, was that a one-time thing?”

“Nope.” I shrug. “I love running actually. But I guess I just don’t have the motivation to anymore.” Translate, not even my love for cardio, sweat and a palpitating heart can get me to leave this apartment.

“I can be your motivator,” he volunteers. “Run with me in the mornings.”

“Nah, I—”

“Ah, I’m sorry, I just made that sound like a suggestion, didn’t I?” he cuts in. “It’s not. You run with me in the mornings. New amendment to the contract. Also, I’m told you order groceries in instead of going out?”

What the hell? Who’s ratting out? Does he have people watching me or something? “I wasn’t feeling well those times,” I prevaricate.

“You do realize you haven’t set a foot out of the building in over two weeks, right?”

“I have agoraphobia,” I lie again, staring him head on.

Unbeknownst to me, the bastard has been paying more attention than I thought, observing, studying. And now he’s digging. He’s not stupid, so he’s probably figured it out by now than I’m hiding, and is curious about from who or what, thus poking his nose were it doesn’t belong.

Really,” he stresses, amused lips twitching at the corners. “That would have been the perfect answer if I didn’t know you’re lying.”

“I’m not—”

“Save it, Lotty,” he curtails. “You’re running from something, and I wish you would just tell me so I can help you.”

“I don’t need your—”

“Until you learn to trust me as more than your ‘boss’, I’m going to need you to re-sign this amended contract. Before I leave.” With one finger, he pushes the suspicious manila envelope that’s been sitting next to his plate across the counter to me. “If you do not agree with the amendments, your employment is terminated, effective immediately.”

I stare at the envelope, not wanting to open it. Employment terminated. Effective immediately. If I disagree. And disagreeing is not something I can afford at this juncture. I don’t have enough saved up, plus the penthouse is spectacular.

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah with all those boring points,’ Reckless Lotty mumbles with an eye-roll. ‘What about his chest, and his throat, and his super intense, intimidating hot-as-sin stare?! No, we most certainly cannot disagree until we’ve had our fill of him.’

Rational Lotty groans, “Oh, dearest Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, why do I even bother?

“Just tell me what you added,” I begrudgingly mumble. “In case you haven’t noticed from the last contract signing, I don’t like reading boring crap.”

“And she wants to become a lawyer,” Noah murmurs as he draws the envelope across the counter back to him, opens it and slides out the contract. He shakes the envelope and a pen falls out. Placing the pen on top of the contract, he pushes it across to me once more. “I’m responsible for your well-being, your safety, and your comfort. You run with me in the mornings. You will have a driver slash bodyguard assigned to take you wherever you need to go and keep you safe—you’ll meet him this afternoon. It is my duty to provide you with anything, material or otherwise, that will contribute to your comfort here and peace of mind in my home slash your workplace—and you deserve the right ask for what you need whenever I fail to recognize that need.”

Mouth hanging open, I blink at him. Then, I explode, “Are you kidding me?! I don’t need to have a law degree to know that this is bullshit! You do not find terms like that in a contract unless it’s for a pimp and his hooker!”

“A contract is a contract. Doesn’t matter what’s in it. There’s no standard format to draft a contract. It could be as informal as two signatures on a napkin. Once you sign it, you adhere to the terms.”

“I’m your housemaid. What the hell? You want to buy me stuff, assign me a body guard and force me to run with you? What’s the next amendment going to be? Huh? That I’m required to be naked and spread-eagled in your bed before you get home in the evenings?”

His casual, amicable demeanor shifts as his whole body goes rigid. Eyes frosting over, lips pressing together, he picks up the contract and shoves it back into the envelope. “You don’t want to sign it, fine. I was trying to help, because that’s who I am. I help people. I don’t take advantage of lost and screw-up little girls. I crossed the line with you a couple of times when I knew I shouldn’t have, and I apologize for that. It was not professional.

“But you know what, I’m done caring. You’re as jumpy as a rabbit, goddamn terrified of who-knows-what. You have no phone, you take classes on a piece-of-shit laptop, and you use a handbag that’s held together with a safety pin. I have a habit of caring too much about people, and that’s where I always go wrong. Obviously, girls like you prefer the callous type, the men who show no attentiveness or care at all, the men who notices nothing, that way you can analyze the shit out of it and convince yourself that it means the opposite. But the one who does care, the one who sees you, he’s the one accused of trying to take advantage. My bad, Lotty. My bad.”

Tall, dark, and seriously pissed-off, he tucks the envelope under his arm, turns, and strides off.

‘Way to go,’ Reckless Lotty grumbles. ‘That’s what happens when you listen to Rational—’

‘Hey!’ Rational Lotty snaps defensively. ‘I did not tell her to disagree. Frankly, I think it’s a good deal. She screwed that up all on her own.’

“So, does that rant mean I’m fired?” I call after him.

Noah stops and begin to turn, but then the elevator pings, pausing him.

“Goooood morning, Mr. Van Der Wells,” I hear a sexy-as-hell male voice sing with a panty-melting British accent, followed by strong footfalls across the wooden floors.

Noah frowns. “You’re early, and I told you I’d meet you downstairs. That keycard I gave you is for emergencies only.”

“But I do have an emergency,” the sexy-as-hell British voice returns. “I needed a place to hide my hard-on. This tight little wench downstairs, a total prick tease—”

“Too early,” Noah clips.

The owner of the sexy-as-hell voice turns the bend just then, and…wow. Wow. Just…wow.

Reckless Lotty faints.

Rational Lotty is speech impeded.

This man, or this Adonis, or this Roman King, is hot. Great height, really great bod, lush brown hair cropping just below his ears, brilliant, mischievous blue eyes, and nice, luscious lips fixed into a smirk. Light denims, a white-as-heaven button down shirt, a lock of brown hair flopped onto his forehead, masculine hand holding a Starbucks cup. He appears to be around Noah’s age, but his aura tells his disposition is less mature.

I’m standing there ogling the Adonis when his wandering gaze locks on me, and his smirk morphs into a grin. “Yes, yes, yes,” he says cockily, answering a question no one asked. “I woke up like this.”

Usually, I hate cocksure pricks, but I can’t help the giggle that escapes me as I purposely step from around the kitchen counter so he can get a full view of me. Without hesitation I would have a fling with this man in a broom closet or in a men’s public bathroom if he demanded it. Then I would kick him to the curb for being an arrogant asswipe.

Noah’s frown deepens as he glances between me and his friend.

Adonis shifts his gaze to Noah, taking a sip of his coffee before saying, “I see now why you wanted me to wait downstairs, old chap.” Bedroom blue eyes moves to me again. “Is he treating you fair, pretty filly? If not, I have an open position, yeah? I know nothing about cleanliness. I’m a nasty, dirty, filthy little lad.”

Smiling coquettishly at him—yes, I’m playing a game here. Unfortunately, Reckless Lotty is still unconscious, so I have to wing this one—I bite my lip and glance down coyly at my shoes, swaying ever so slightly from side to side. “Actually, that would be great. I just got fire—”

“You’re not fired,” Noah’s hard voice slices in. He looks as if he’s about to combust. So green he could be a tossed in a salad bowl.

Booyah! Right where I want him.

Raising wide, artless eyes to him, I ask with feigned timidity, “I-I’m not?”

Now Noah’s frown dips so deep it can pass as a scowl, and I bet he’s wondering what on earth is going on, who’s this innocent, wide-eyed girl, and what am I playing at?

Keeping my job, that’s what I’m playing at. Because I screwed up royally.

“No, you’re not,” he grounds out. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

Like a kid on Christmas morning, I clap my hands and bounce on my toes, before advancing toward him with my hand out. “Here, let me sign this real quick so you can go.”

Noah watches me like he has no idea who I am as I extricate the envelope from under his arm, slide out the contract and pen, hastily scrawling my signature. Handing it back to him, I smile something brilliant. “There.”

Turning to Adonis, I say, “Sorry about that. Turns out we just had a misunderstanding.”

“No worries.” He gives me a licentious scan. “Do you have a bloke, sweetheart?”

Before I can get a response out, Noah growls, “She’s nineteen.”

Eyes glued to my rack, Adonis replies, “Turn that nine upside down and I might care about age. The younger, the tighter.”

I tamp down my snicker, only because Noah looks like he’s this close to ripping his friend’s head off.

Completely oblivious to Noah’s bristling, Adonis seizes my left hand and gallantly presses a kiss on the back of it. “I’m Q for Qwesie. Qwesie James. Noah’s wingman, the horns on his temples, the venom on his tongue…” He pauses, frowns. “No. Wait. That doesn’t sound right.”

This time I laugh out loud. Noah doesn’t. Still scowling.

“If I were you,” I advise Q, “I’d let my hand go. “My boss is this close to head-butting you into unconsciousness.”

About The Author
S. Ann
Ann Cole is a passionate writer and reader, and a lover of anything that distracts her from the real world. Reader first and second a writer, S. Ann Cole is an exaggerator, a laugher, sometimes overly chatty, sometimes overly shy. She’s afraid of cats, dogs, snakes—heck, she’s only tolerable to gold fishes in a tank. Because if they do jump out and try to attack her, the suckers will surely die!
She hates fireworks, schmaltz and arrogance.
She loves carbs, Chris Brown and humility.
She lives nowhere and everywhere.
Jokey people are her utmost favorite people to be around, as laughter is the way to her heart.
Never mind her foul-mouth (she’s working hard on changing that!), she loves GOD. Fiercely. And believes prayer is the essence of all good, great, wonderful and miraculous things, and the most powerful privilege given unto man.
Ann hopes that one day, the right day, when it’s her time (because nothing happens before its time), her hard work will be noticed and appreciated.
When Ann’s not abusing her computer keyboard, you can find her nosing a novel, watching anything on television that makes her laugh until she breaks into hiccups (loves Disney , TBS, and Impractical Jokers!) studying the Bible, or sipping red wine.
yes Mr Van Der Wells Cover Full