martedì 14 novembre 2017

RELEASE BLITZ: He Loves Me...KNOT by RC Boldt


He Loves Me...KNOT by RC Boldt 



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Sometimes love needs a second chance… I never looked back after skipping out on my own wedding, even if it did leave me estranged from most of my family. Eight years later, I have the life I’ve always wanted. As an advertising account executive, my world is damn near perfect. Until I come face-to-face with my past. With the man I once loved. The man who holds my future in his hands. The man who’s hell-bent on getting even with me for leaving him at the altar. Even with all the unfinished business between us, I still love Knox Montgomery. The only problem? He loves me…KNOT.

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About the Author

RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she’s your girl. 

Facebook Reader Group: 

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mercoledì 8 novembre 2017

EXCERPT REVEAL: He Loves Me...KNOT by RC Boldt



He Loves Me...KNOT by RC Boldt is coming soon on NOVEMBER 14th!
 Keep reading for an 


→ Add it to your GR TBR:

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HLMK- Teaser 4

Sometimes love needs a second chance… I never looked back after skipping out on my own wedding, even if it did leave me estranged from most of my family. Eight years later, I have the life I’ve always wanted. As an advertising account executive, my world is damn near perfect. Until I come face-to-face with my past. With the man I once loved. The man who holds my future in his hands. The man who’s hell-bent on getting even with me for leaving him at the altar. Even with all the unfinished business between us, I still love Knox Montgomery. The only problem? He loves me…KNOT.

  HLMK -Teaser 2




This—the quintessential Southern phrase “bless her heart”—is the ultimate kiss of death.
The irony isn’t lost on me since I just avoided my own kiss of death, figuratively speaking. Instead of walking down the aisle, I’m trudging along the Pensacola Beach boardwalk in my wedding dress.
With tear-stained cheeks.
Two elderly women peer at me, blatant curiosity etched across their features, and one turns to the other to hiss, “I wonder if the groom left her.”
“Would you blame him?” the other woman responds, disdain dripping from her tone. “She’s got a”—she utters the next words much like they’re absolutely scandalous—“nose piercing.”
The dark glare I direct at them is concealed by my sunglasses, so with a dismissive huff, I continue plodding along, swiping a hand across my tear-streaked cheeks. Judging by the black smudges on my fingers, my waterproof mascara clearly lied.
Damn jackass mascara.
Damn jackass groom. I’m starting to see a trend here…
The longer I walk, the more stares I get. One little girl in a tutu bathing suit points to the top of my head and squeals with joy, “Look! A princess!”
Damn jackass tiara and veil my mother insisted I wear.
I march over to a large trash bin and—without any finesse whatsoever—begin tugging the pins holding this awful tiara-veil combo in place. As I’m attempting to remove it, agitation takes over due to my sad lack of progress. I bunch the veil in my fists and give it a firm tug from my elaborate up-do. Bobby pins shoot and ping in various directions, and I distractedly pray no one gets too close and loses an eye. Shoving the obscene length of fabric in the trash, I feel a bit lighter.
The June sun beats down on me as I stand on the stamped cement of the boardwalk, the heat radiating through the soles of my favorite flip-flops. My eyes flutter closed as I inhale a deep breath of the salty Gulf of Mexico air.
God, I love this beach. It’s always been one of my favorites, especially since it takes just under an hour to drive here from Mobile. The water is a gorgeous shade of blue-green, and the sand is perfectly white and free of pesky shells. Any other time, I’d be kicking off my flip-flops and running toward the surf. Now, though, I have different priorities: a stiff drink. Or ten.
Or twenty.
The challenge is finding a place where I might not draw attention—er, as much attention. I slowly survey the nearby choices of bars and restaurants lined up along the boardwalk; I scan and dismiss them one by one.
Wait a minute.
One particular sign snags my eye. It has an outline of two men standing back to back, their forms filled with a swirl of rainbows and the name Be-Bob’s written in script-like font beneath it.
A gay bar.
With my key ring clipped to my small wristlet, I stalk over to the bar, doing my best to ignore the startled looks and gawking from other beachgoers. Tugging open the heavy door, I step over the threshold and into the brisk air conditioning.
Into a place where I might find slightly more acceptance.
I slide my sunglasses to rest atop my head and take a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. There are only about eight people scattered about, chatting over drinks. When I don’t earn more than a brief glance before they return to their own conversations, I breathe my first sigh of relief. Most of the patrons are likely indulging in the great weather and enjoying a Saturday at the beach, not looking for refuge and hiding out like I am.
I scan the framed photos that adorn the walls featuring local drag queens and scantily clad male models before striding over to the bar. I hoist myself up onto a worn leather bar stool, and catch the eye of the only bartender behind the counter. He appears to be taking inventory of the liquor, if his clipboard is anything to go by.
When he turns around and gets the full visual of me, his expression is priceless, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. I’d laugh if I had it in me, but I’m emotionally spent.
As he regards what’s visible to him from the top of the bar on up to my hair, his light brown eyes soften and the corners of his mouth tip up slightly. Without batting an eye, he reaches below the counter and produces a wet wipe. I gratefully accept it and he rests his forearms upon the lacquered surface, regarding me with interest as I rid my cheeks of the dark mascara streaks.
The bartender waits until I’m finished and then accepts the wipe from me before tossing it into the trash.
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever served a runaway bride before.” My makeup-fail savior appears to gauge me, as if expecting me to burst into a river of tears.
Funny enough, the drive here has expended me of those and I’m firmly entrenched in the anger stage of my fiancé’s betrayal.
I prop an elbow on the bar, rest my chin on my palm, and offer what I know is the weakest excuse for a smile. “There’s a first time for everything, right?”
He doesn’t immediately answer, eyeing me curiously until his lips stretch into an easy smile. His eyes do that little crinkly thing at the corners and he has what I call “kind eyes.”
Then again, I remind myself, what the hell do I know?
I’m clearly not the best judge of people. That much has become all too evident.
The bartender reaches out a hand. “Casey.”
I grasp his hand, noting his impressive manicure. This guy’s cuticles are better than mine and I love the shade of metallic gray polish on his nails. “Nice to meet you, Casey. I’m Emma Jane.”
He reaches beneath the bar and I hear a clinking as he scoops ice, before he brings a cup into view. Then he works his magic, and pours in a bit of this and that from one bottle to the next. Finally, with flourish—and a maraschino cherry tossed in—he slides the plastic cup across the smooth surface.
“It’s my special, secret mix. I call it”—he leans in toward me and lowers his voice, his eyes dancing with mischief—“the Panty Dropper.”
One of my brows arches as I stare back at him with dismayed skepticism. “I hardly think I’m a prime panty-dropping candidate right now.”
Casey lifts a shoulder in a half shrug, his eyes flickering over my shoulder before returning to me. His smile grows wider. “You never can tell.”
With a tiny laugh, I shake my head and wrap my lips around the straw to take a sip of the concoction he’s made me. Just as I swallow the sweet drink, I both feel and smell a person sidle up next to me at the bar.
Hell. The reason I came here was because I thought for sure my chances of getting hit on would be slim to none. But, as I glance at him from the corner of my eye, I observe strong, muscled forearms, tanned and sprinkled with dark hair. The scent of him is appealing and masculine, a cologne that doesn’t overpower. Just the sight of those arms alone, however, makes me incredibly wary to see the rest of him.
Casey doesn’t address the newcomer, his focus still on me. “I’m all ears, Emma Jane. Been told I’m a great listener.”
Good Lord. Where do I even start?
Before I can answer, the man speaks up, his deep voice booming. “Are you cheating on me, Case?” He makes what sounds like a gasp of exaggerated indignation. “I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.”
I glance up to see Casey’s expression full of mirth, and he rolls his eyes. “You know better. I’m still waiting on you to switch over.”
A husky laugh greets my ears and it sounds far too male—far too appealing—which is why I refuse to turn and look at the man beside me.
“I might switch if you’d agree to root for my team.”
“Not gonna happen,” Casey scoffs before his gaze meets mine. “Isn’t that drink exactly what the doctor ordered?”
I muster up a smile because he seems like a sweet guy. “It is.” With a start, I realize I haven’t given him my card to pay or at least start a tab. I reach for my wristlet. “What do I owe you?”
He waves me off. “Honey, that one’s on me as long as you promise to dish before we get slammed in a few hours.”
A loud exhale spills past my lips. “It’s a pathetic story, really.”
“Let me guess.” Mr. Forearms’s husky voice is a deep timbre, amusement threaded in his tone. “You caught him with your maid of honor.”
I let out a harsh laugh and fiddle with my straw, using it to move around the ice cubes in my drink. “Nope.” If only it were that simple, I muse internally.
“Caught him with his best man?”
This time, his suggestion drags a lighter sounding laugh from me. “Not even.”
“Well, you know I can’t leave here without hearing the story. I’m intrigued.”
This guy is something else, that’s for sure. His voice is the epitome of sexy, and yet, even with all that’s transpired, I have zero interest.
Finally, I drag my attention from my drink and my eyes travel up those muscled forearms, over the bulging biceps stretching the short sleeves of a dark-blue polo shirt and up to the face that—
My breath catches in my throat as recognition floods me, my eyes widening as I take in the man beside me.
Becket Jones, the quarterback for the NFL team in Jacksonville, Florida. He’s a two-time Heisman Trophy winner from the University of Florida and had been the second overall draft pick by the Jacksonville Jaguars. Adding to that impressive resumé, he’s been recently voted MVP and is also a Lombardi Trophy recipient. His face is in commercials and on billboards everywhere. Living in Mobile, Alabama, and in a state without a pro football team, most of us either gravitate toward the Atlanta Falcons, the New Orleans Saints, or the Jacksonville Jaguars.
I don’t follow NFL as closely as college football, but I’d have to live under a rock to not recognize Becket and his pretty-boy face. Even beneath the brim of the ball cap, which curls under at the edges and draws shadows over his eyes, I’d recognize that wide charming smile of his anywhere. He’s slouching against the bar but I know he pushes well over six feet.
His features cloud as he observes my response, his large hand reaching up to tug his cap lower. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to sell some seedy story about seeing me in a gay bar to a stupid gossip rag.”
“Of course not. I’m just…” I falter for a moment, “surprised.”
His chin lifts, gesturing to a couple of guys standing nearby a jukebox, laughing and talking. One of them is wearing a shirt with bright pink flamingos printed on it, along with a yellow feather boa draped around his neck.
“I’m with my brother, Brantley—the one who insisted on that crazy getup—and his roommate, Vonn, whose birthday we’re celebrating.” His eyes flicker to them briefly, obvious affection in his gaze, before returning to me. “I drove in from Jacksonville late last night to join them.”
I nod politely, not sure what to say. “Well, I hope you guys have a great night.” I turn back to my drink and studiously take another sip of the dangerous concoction while acknowledging Casey and Becket’s attention is fixed on me with unfettered curiosity. This drink is deliciously sweet and I know it’s masking the copious amount of liquor Casey put in it. And I can’t get hammered. I should—and I really want to—but I can’t. I have bigger fish to fry.
Like figuring out my freaking life.
With a long sigh, I unzip my wristlet and withdraw my cell phone—whose ring had been silenced—to face the “music” I know is about to blare at me.
Let this be noted as mistake number one. Because I’m certain my phone is going to overheat from the number of text messages and missed calls I’ve received already. Mainly, the ones from my father.
Dad: You’d better get back here now, young lady.
I continue scrolling past all of his other messages until I get to the last one, time stamped from about five minutes ago.
Dad: Consider yourself disowned. Don’t even think of coming back to this house after the way you’ve embarrassed everyone.
Huh. Well, thank heavens I’d already thought of that and had made a quick stop at the house before driving here. I’d scooped up the items I’d need most, knowing my father’s reaction would be extreme. Maybe I was delusional, but I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this.
Just as I’m about to place my phone back in my wristlet and avoid the remainder of the painful messages sure to come, another one comes in.
Dad: Forget your job at the magazine. It’s done. You’re done. You did this, Emma Jane.
My chest tightens and my stomach churns sickly. I knew it was coming but it doesn’t make it any less devastating. I’d worked my ass off for Southern Charm Lifestyle magazine at their new location in Mobile. I know I have the potential to rise up in the ranks.
But now it’s gone. Poof. All because of my father. The one and only Davis Haywood, city councilman, owner of the local newspaper and the city’s largest magazine, and commercial developer galore. He has the money and power to make things happen in Mobile.
I just never thought he’d use that money and power against his own daughter one day.
“So.” Becket startles me, so caught up in my own drama-filled thoughts. “You might not know this about me, but I was brought up to be a gentleman.”
I regard him warily, unsure where he’s going with this. “O-kay,” I drag out the word slowly.
“This means I can’t leave you sitting at this bar, staring down at your phone, looking like your puppy just died.”
I shoot him a hard glare that would normally cause people to rear back…but then I recall that this man faces the risk of being tackled by two-hundred-plus-pound men on any given game day.
So, as much as my dangerously narrowed eyes might flare with the “Don’t even go there” vibe, my glare does nothing.
He looks around first before slipping his ball cap around on his head, the brim now at the back. And honestly, on any other grown man, it would look juvenile. On Becket Jones, however, it actually looks cute.
Casey slides a bottle of water to him, which Becket uncaps before downing half of it. Resting his arms on the bar, he playfully nudges me with his shoulder.
“Go ahead. Spill.”
Exhaling loudly, I peer up at him skeptically. “You really want—”
“To hear all the sordid details?” He grins at me, nearly blinding me with his pearly white teeth. “Absolutely.”
Shaking my head at him, I take another sip of my drink and toy with my straw, making the ice cubes clink together within my cup. “Fine. But don’t you dare give me a bless your heart that’s chock-full of pity.”
Letting a long sigh loose, I answer, my voice muted and laced with pain. And I hate the way it sounds.
“I’m running from a man who doesn’t really love me.”

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About the Author: RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she’s your girl.

 Facebook Reader Group:

martedì 7 novembre 2017

COMING SOON: MAN HANDS by Sarina Bowen & Tanya Eby


Author: Sarina Bowen and Tanya Eby

Publication: December 11th 2017 by Rennie Road Books

Genre: RomCom

At thirty-four, I’m reeling from a divorce. I don’t want to party or try to move on. I just want to stay home, post a new recipe on my blog: Brynn’s Dips and Balls. 
But my friends aren’t having it. Get out there again, they say. It will be fun, they say. I’m still taking a hard pass. 
Free designer cocktails, they say. And that’s a game-changer. 
Too bad my ex shows up with his new arm candy. That’s when I lose my mind. But when my besties dare me to leap on the first single man I see, they don't expect me to actually go through with it. Literally.

All I need right now is some peace and quiet while my home renovation TV show is on hiatus. But when a curvy woman in a red wrap dress charges me like she’s a gymnast about to mount my high bar, all I can do is brace myself and catch her. What follows is the hottest experience of my adult life. 
I want a repeat, but my flying Cinderella disappears immediately afterward. She doesn’t leave a glass slipper, either—just a pair of panties with chocolate bunnies printed on them. 

But I will find her.


lunedì 6 novembre 2017



Author: JJ Harper

Genre: MMM Contemporary Romance 

Publication: October 17th 2017

When Denver’s long-term partner breaks up with him, he flees his life, his career, and his bright future as one of the country’s leading trauma surgeons. Ditching everything but his dog, Denver returns to the quiet town of Cooper’s Ridge and his parents’ ranch.
Leaving twelve years earlier, Denver knew he would never be accepted as a gay man in an unaccepting town. So, when he meets Kes—an old school friend—in the bar he owns, he is shocked to find him in an openly gay relationship. Something he never thought would happen here.
What surprises him even more is the instant, mutual attraction the three men have. Accepting a job in Kes’ bar, they dance around each other, wanting them but not believing he would ever fit in with a couple so obviously in love. But, they want him. And they are not prepared to let him go.
Denver takes a risk and accepts their offer of a night out, finding a side of himself he never knew existed. Not trusting himself to be enough for the two men, the desire blooming in him is unprecedented and he can’t deny it: he wants them as much.
He finds his life falling into place, all because of two men. Is it possible he found his forever in a place he never expected it?

When I’ve first heard about  JJ Haper’s new book I was surprised and a little bit concerned that it was an M/M/M Romance, not really my kind of book. And not because a threesome makes me uncomfortable, but because in the past I’ve tried to read some books and I didn’t like them very much: no plot, only sex (preferably rough).

Denver’s Calling has pulled my heart into the story from the beginning.

Two men, East Brookman and Kester Dereham are already a thing. A very happy couple, they are a family, completed by the presence of Ellie, East’s daughter. Kes is running his bar and East has his own business in construction. Being a gay couple in a small town isn’t easy. They've had their fair amount of struggles to be accepted.
Happy and settled, life for them takes a sudden turn the day Denver Sinclair entered Kes’ bar.

Denver is a brilliant doctor, a surgeon, in a big city. Betrayed by his partner, the man he has loved for so many years, and by his friends and colleagues, he decides to take a break and return to his parent’s in the small Cooper’s Ridge. He’s looking for a peaceful place to mend his broken heart. The moment he entered Kes’ bar he doesn’t expect what will come next.

Kes and Denver instantly clicked, an attraction they can deny. Kes is determined to have all, East, the love of his life, and Denver. East is willing to try this new kind of relationship, but nothing is easy. Denver is afraid to jump in Kes and East’s relationship, feeling he will never be enough for them, the third, the less important, or finally have what they have. East has some reservation, not about Denver, but about Ellie. She’s so young and she has already gone through so much. Making all this work out will be a challenge. Will everyone be ready to fight for their love? Will they be brave enough to go through the storm, the misconception of a small town, and find their happy ending and raise a totally new family?

I loved each of the characters: the protective Kes, the impulsive East and the insecure Denver. Three men so different, but with something to give to each other. Even if the love at first sight between them, and a family so accepting, were not so much convincing to me, their relationship and the plot work really well. Not to mention the sex. OMG, two are hot, but three are hot as hell!

JJ Harper has been great to create a story that is credible, with ups and downs, touching some serious subjects with grace a sweetness. Denver and Phoebe story has made me cry.
I liked the alterning POV of the three men, and see the story and feel the emotions through their eyes.

I suggest the readers to enjoy the ride with Denver, Kes and East with an open mind and an open heart.
Everything is possible, but dreams come true only with hard work, modesty and love. That’s what I’ve learned from these three amazing men.
“…we simply need to be us, plain and simple but good.”

Book 1 in JJ Haper’s new series (Cooper’s Ridge), Denver’s Calling is a great reading and I can’t wait to find out the next story. 

**I received an ARC from the author. This is my honest review. 

When I open my eyes, I see both men watching me with a look worry of on their faces. I exhale once more and relax my fingers, stretching them out over my thighs.
“Denver, what’s wrong? Have I said something to upset you?” Kes asks as his hand reaches out and covers mine. I tense up again.
I look at him and his expression is troubled. His eyes flick over to East, making me look that way also. Looking equally concerned, East rests his warm, calloused hand on my arm, the heat sending a tremor through my body. Confusion floods my head and I push myself up. Turning to them, I still can’t decipher their reactions.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, questioning their motives.
“Doing what, Denver? We are only talking work hours.” Kes stands up and he’s close to me, encroaching on my personal space.
“It doesn’t seem like that to me. I don’t know if this is some sort of joke to you, if this is a way for you two to get your fun. I’m not interested. I’m not here to play games.” I try to walk past Kes but East stands up too. They stand in front of me, not so much incasing me, but not allowing me an easy route out of their home, either.
What I don’t expect is East to lean forward, his face mere millimeters from mine. “This isn’t a game, Denver. I promise you that.” His warm breath washes over my skin and my eyelids flutter at the sensation.
Kes moves half a step closer, his body heat registering as his chest comes in line with my own. “You are no plaything, Denver.”
As he leans in, his mouth slides so softly over mine, I could almost have imagined it if it hadn’t been for East’s sigh. My eyes are fixed on Kes as he pulls back then turns to East and does the same to him; this time it’s me who makes a sound. I gasp at what I’m seeing and what I’m feeling because, as Kes steps away from East, his eyes fix back on mine while East steps closer and touches his lips to the soft, sensitive spot below my ear. This time, there is more pressure and my hands reach out to him. My fists clench in his T-shirt. I don’t know why this is happening but it feels good.
Kes steps up, his hands resting lightly on my hips; East hasn’t moved away, instead, his nose skims up and down my neck, inhaling and emitting a low moan as he exhales. My eyes are tight shut when Kes’ mouth touches me and I try to embrace what is happening and why it feels so good. And, as his lips press harder against mine, I find I’m returning the pressure, feeling the vibration in his lips as he hums.
I feel bereft, alone, when they move back, their eyes dark and heavy with desire and I’m sure mine match theirs. My chest heaves as I draw in a large, deep breath and shakily release East’s T-shirt from my fists.
“No games, Denver. Nothing more than what you want, if you want anything at all.” East’s rough, lust-laden voice breaks through my own thoughts and confusion.

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lunedì 23 ottobre 2017



Autore: Emiliano Di Meo

Pubblicazione: 16 ottobre 

Genere: M/M - Contemporaneo


Elio convive con Diego da anni, ma negli ultimi mesi sembra che il loro rapporto si stia sgretolando. Dante convive con John e in apparenza anche il loro rapporto attraversa una fase di stanchezza e insoddisfazione. Elio e Dante vivono lontani, ma basta un semplice messaggio per metterli in contatto. Poche parole scritte in un momento in cui entrambi sono alla ricerca di una nuova luce. Tutti abbiamo bisogno di qualcuno con il quale sentirci noi stessi, tutti cerchiamo un'anima affine con la quale poter abbassare la guardia e nel momento in cui questo avviene i destini di Elio e Dante si intrecciano velocemente, ma concedere così tanta fiducia rende vulnerabili.

Emiliano Di Meo vive a Roma ed esordisce nel 2013 come autore autoprodotto con Il Chiaroscuro Delle Cose.
A partire dalla sua prima opera sono subito evidenti i temi che gli sono più cari: l’introspezione dell’animo umano e il riconoscimento dell’amore come sentimento universale che non è più possibile imbrigliare nella distinzione tra i generi. Emiliano Di Meo contribuisce a dar voce ad una comunità come quella LGBT che ancora oggi si trova costretta a combattere per il pieno riconoscimento dei propri diritti.

mercoledì 18 ottobre 2017



Serie: Stardust #2

Autore: Monica Lombardi

Pubblicazione: 18 ottobre 2017 Emma Books

L’arrivo di Free a Portland, nella Vecchia Era, ha portato gli Hawk e i Raven allo scontro diretto, e il prezzo è stato alto. Senza poter fare nulla per fermarlo Mya ha dovuto infatti assistere alla partenza dell’uomo che ama al fianco dei loro nemici. È però grazie al suo lavoro sotto copertura che Rave e i suoi scoprono dove si trovano i Falchi e che tra le loro fila si nasconde la donna che ha lasciato un vuoto incolmabile nella vita di Rave e della piccola Dana. Intanto, nella Nuova Era, Nathan è determinato a trovare il modo per mettersi in contatto con il suo unico figlio, Free, attraverso le pieghe temporali. Per farlo deve tornare a muoversi nel mondo dei Mepow, quel mondo che non accetta il suo legame con una Phys. Quel mondo in cui, anni prima, è sparito l’amico che per lui era come un fratello. Due mondi che si rincorrono. Due razze che cercano il modo di controllare il bene più prezioso rimasto all’umanità: i poteri della mente, e della memoria.

Memory War è il secondo romanzo di una serie imperdibile che vi trasporterà in un mondo nuovo eppure sempre uguale, che vi farà viaggiare nel tempo sulla scia dello Stardust, la polvere di stelle, a fianco di uomini e donne che non si danno per vinti, determinati a lottare oggi per vincere domani.

Volete sapere com'è iniziato tutto?

 Amazon (gratis su tutti i digital store)

“Ho sempre difeso la libertà di un autore di viaggiare nello spazio, oltrepassando i confini del paese dove vive. Ho sempre visto tanti autori viaggiare nel tempo, all’indietro soprattutto. Ora vi invito a partire per un nuovo viaggio insieme a me, a scoprire un nuovo mondo: il mondo dei Raven e degli Hawk, un mondo che vive nel nostro presente ma che parte, per quanto strano possa sembrare, dal futuro. Il sipario si alza su questo nuovo mondo e una ragazza ci viene incontro per accoglierci. Per raccontarci la sua storia. La conoscerete bambina, una bambina davvero straordinaria. Lascio la parola a Dana, figlia di Rave. La miglior guida che potessimo sperare di avere.” – Monica Lombardi

Corpo e mente, le due componenti che formano l’essere umano. Natura e tecnologia, le due forze che per molto tempo si sono disputate la Terra. Nella Nuova Era, queste due facce si sono divise, dando luogo a due razze in precario equilibrio tra loro. L’incontro tra un uomo e una donna che non possono accettare le barriere che li separano. Un fuoco che divampa, un figlio che è, con la sua sola esistenza, una speranza di pace. Nessuna società può fermare un amore che non si lascia dividere. E se tutto, in un mondo che si è autodefinito “nuovo”, sembra ostacolarlo, la risposta può forse celarsi in un passato in cui le due razze erano ancora una. Il primo libro di una serie imperdibile che vi trasporterà in un mondo nuovo eppure sempre uguale, che vi farà viaggiare nel tempo sulla scia dello Stardust, la polvere di stelle, a fianco di uomini e donne che non si danno per vinti, determinati a lottare oggi per vincere domani.