A fierce survivor and a fearless FBI agent battle a copycat serial killer… The Surviving Girls by Katee Roberts #RomanticSuspense #Reading @Barclay_PR


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Release alert for THE SURVIVING GIRLS!

 Don’t miss this intense, and suspenseful crime novel by Katee Robert!

 

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“This is a must read summer read!” —Book Him Danno

 

“Robert takes the story to an unexpected revelation of who the real killer is and the trip there is highly entertaining in a hang on to your chair kind of way. Every Robert book I’ve read has been filled with well defined, gritty characters and a well-paced plot. The women aren’t Cinderallas and the Princes Charming have an edge to them. Just the way I like it.” —Jeep Diva

 

Download THE SURVIVING GIRLS or add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads! Then keep reading to get a sneak peek and your chance to enter the giveaway for a $25 Amazon gift card or books from Katee Robert!

 

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Title: The Surviving Girls

Author: Katee Robert

Series: Hidden Sins #3

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: May 29, 2018

Publisher: Montlake Romance

Print Length:  282 pages

Format: Digital and Paperback

ISBN: 978-1503902442

 

 

Synopsis:

 

A fierce survivor and a fearless FBI agent battle a copycat serial killer in a gripping thriller from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katee Robert.

 

Twelve years ago, Lei Zhang and her friend Emma Nilsson miraculously lived through the notorious Sorority Row Murders that left twenty-one of their sisters dead. Still wrestling with the trauma but finally out of the limelight, Lei and Emma are now devoted to helping other victims find closure. But most disturbing for Lei—beyond the gut-wrenching survivor guilt—is that the killer was her boyfriend. He’s behind bars, but she’ll never lower her guard again.

 

When a copycat killer targets Lei and Emma, FBI Agent Dante Young is put in charge of anticipating the sociopath’s every move. But what he doesn’t expect is his immediate and overpowering attraction to Lei. The closer they get to each other, the more desperate and terrifying the questions become: Who wants to finish what the killer started—and why?

 

Now Agent Young vows to protect Lei at all costs. If they have any chance of a future together, first they have to stay alive…

 

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Download at:

Amazon:  http://bit.ly/TheSurvivingGIrlsAmazon

B&N: http://bit.ly/2HcOsUZ

 

Enter to win a grand prize of a $25 Amazon Gift Card or three (3) runner-up copies of a backlist eBook from Katee Robert!

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b050ef29524/?

 

 

 

The Surviving Girls Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Katee Robert

 

Lei couldn’t breathe. Her chest closed painfully as if she’d been knocked flat on her back, and her lungs burned with the need for oxygen. Somewhere in the tiny rational corner of her mind, she knew there was nothing really wrong with her, but rational thought had no place in the midst of her panic.

He’s back. Emma was right all along and he’s coming for us.

Stop.

You’re spiraling.

Travis Berkley is still in jail. This is a copycat, and no matter how bad a copycat is, he can’t be worse than Travis. You survived before. You will this time, too.

A whine cut through her thoughts, and then Saul was there, nudging her hand with his cool nose. She inhaled sharply, suddenly aware that everyone in the room was staring at her. The Feds had the blank-slate expression she’d come to associate with cops when they were in a difficult situation. Emma looked at her as if she was on the verge of her own panic attack.

Lei stroked her hand over Saul’s head, forming a wall of indisputable facts in her mind to keep the fear at bay. She wasn’t twenty-one anymore, only a couple of years out of the stifling family home she’d grown up on, still drunk on freedom and the realization that she could do anything she wanted to with her future.

She’d been an idiot. A child who was playing dress-up without realizing the pitfalls of adulthood.

Though most pitfalls don’t come attached to a knife.

Lei wasn’t that girl anymore. She’d seen the worst Travis Berkley could offer and had the scars to show for it. She could shoot. She could fight. She’d worked with enough cops over the course of her career as a trainer and search team that she had an inside view to how their minds worked.

She would not lose herself to terror.

Another stroke to Saul’s head and she was able to speak. “How close to the original murders are the details?”

Agent Young exchanged a glance with his partner and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. His big hands dangled between his legs, and she distantly noted that he had really firm thighs beneath the expensive slacks. He spoke slowly, as if gauging her response. “We haven’t had a chance to check the original case files, but the big details are almost identical. The murders were performed in the same way—girls kept in a main room and taken out individually. We think he snuck in through a window, because their condo was on the second floor and he used a knife from the kitchen.”

She could almost hear Travis’s voice in her head, even after all these years. Let me in, Lei-Lei. I have a surprise for you. Stupid. She’d been so incredibly stupid, swayed by a pretty face and a boy her parents would approve of who made her feel. Smart, athletic, the right dollar amount in his family’s bank account. Someone bright and colorful and checking all the right boxes.

Since she couldn’t bring herself to ask if one of the girls let him in, she focused on the rest. “If this is a fan, he must have been in contact with Travis at some point.” She put her hand on Emma’s leg when her friend flinched at his name. The Feds didn’t react, which made her sigh. “But you already knew that. You don’t need me telling you how to do your job. What is it you need?”

Another loaded look between them. They’d obviously been partners for a long time, because they managed to convey an entire conversation’s worth of talking in a single look.

Again, it was Agent Young who took the lead. “We can find the details of the case easily enough, along with your accounts, but what I’d like to know is your take on Travis.”

“Because I dated him.” She stated it baldly, as if the fact she’d slept with a murderer was something she’d dealt with and moved on from. As if the fact didn’t still keep her up at night, moving beneath her skin until she wanted to take a wire brush to her body. There weren’t enough hot showers and bleach baths in the world to change the fact she’d willingly been with him. She could never take that back.

“Because you—both of you—have known him longer than anyone.”

“Agent Young—”

“Dante.”

She stopped short. Dante. It fit him somehow—strong and a little bit intense. He masked it well, but there was fire lurking in the depths of his dark eyes, in the way he clenched his fists as they spoke about Travis. She shouldn’t be forming personal opinions about any man, let alone one connected with the case. Lei’s track record had more than proven that fact.

While she was still trying to process her strange and seriously inconvenient reaction to him, Emma had found her voice. She spoke softly, her southern accent giving her breathy tone a pretty lilt. She had a Dolly Parton thing going for her—at least before Dolly got a little crazy for plastic surgery—and Emma wasn’t above playing up the sweet-southern-belle thing when it suited her. “Travis Berkley is a sociopath with a healthy dose of narcissistic personality disorder—which you already know because you read the file. Everything is in the file. We have been doing our best to get past what he did to us—to our sisters—and that means forgetting as much as possible.”

Maybe for Emma. Lei couldn’t afford to forget. It had been her mistake that tipped the first domino that destroyed so many lives. While it was possible Travis could have gotten into the house on his own, she’d been the fool who let him in her window.

The knowledge made her hands shake. Emma might want to do everything to avoid that gory walk down memory lane, but Lei didn’t have that option. Guilt wrapped around her throat, tightening, ever tightening. “You have something specific you’re here for.”

Agent Rowan leaned forward, a clear indication that she’d take it from there. As much as Lei wanted the calming force Dante—Agent Young—seemed to emanate, she turned almost gratefully to the redhead. She eyed her as if Lei was a particularly interesting bug. “We’re theorizing this fucker—”

“Clarke.”

She didn’t look at him. “These women have seen enough, Dante. You know as well as I do that a few choice curse words aren’t going to have them scrambling for their sniffing salts.”

Lei understood now why Britton had paired these two together. Clarke was the blunt force designed to set a person back on their heels so they were too busy reacting to her foul mouth to stop and think that there might be a shrewd mind behind those deceptively big blue eyes. Dante on the other hand, was a cool summer mist, unruffling feathers and putting everyone in the room at ease with his calm presence. Both agents would be underestimated in different ways, which was only to their benefit.

Clever.

She eyed the dogs on the floor. Neither of them seemed overly concerned with the Feds in the room. Good. Lei had more than proven she could be fooled, but Saul couldn’t. Every time he reacted poorly to a person, she paid attention—and most of the time something eventually came to light to prove her dog’s instincts correct.

Clarke followed her gaze and then refocused on Lei and then Emma. “A lot of sociopaths think they’re smarter than everyone else in the room—some of them are even right—and Travis sure as hell falls into the latter category. His IQ is 167, and from all accounts, prison hasn’t broken him. What we need to know is if he’d encourage a fan to take these steps.”

“Of course he would. He’s a fucking psycho,” Emma snarled.

“What do you think?” Clarke was looking at Lei.

Because why not? Even now, cops thought Lei had some kind of inside track to the way Travis’s mind worked. She’d dated him for months, had slept with him countless times, and so she must have some insider knowledge to explain how the golden boy went so very, very wrong.

She hadn’t been able to give them a satisfactory answer then. She didn’t have one now, either. But she could try.

 

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Praise for The Hidden Sins Series

 

“…a captivating read, made all the more rewarding when good triumphs.” —Washington Post on The Devil’s Daughter

 

“Robert shows off her impressive versatility in this fast-paced and inventive new Hidden Sins series. The small-town setting is a masterful blend of quaint and oppressive, which ratchets the menace and thrill factor. The protagonists carry the full weight of their pasts with them, making their growing relationship as compelling as the mystery element in The Devil’s Daughter. With plenty of twists and betrayals, this is a book that is sure to earn Robert a wealth of new fans.” RT Book Reviews on The Devil’s Daughter

 

“Katee Robert has definitely picked up the romantic suspense genre and made it her bitch. I can’t wait to see what we get next. Given some of the books I see she’s been using for research, I know it’s going to be frightening and amazing at the same time.” —Goodreads Review

 

“Every bit as complex as book one but with a totally different storyline, The Hunting Grounds once again proved Katee Robert is more than capable of spinning a thrilling romantic suspense tale that will keep readers on their toes.” Harlequin Junkie on The Hunting Grounds (recommended read)

 

“Filled with suspense and lot of unpredictable twists and turns…Gripping.” Life at 17on The Hunting Grounds

 

 

Other Books in the Hidden Sin Series

 

 

THE DEVIL’S DAUGHTER

Get more information at:  Goodreads  | Amazon | Barnes & Noble

 

THE HUNTING GROUNDS

Get more information at: Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble

 

 KateeRobert

About Katee Robert

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title, The Marriage Contract, was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.”  When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

Connect with Katee at: Website | Facebook | Twitter| GoodReads | Instagram

The Darkest Sunrise by Aly Martinez #newrelease #romance @AlyMartinezAuth


  • Today we are part of a promo tour for The Darkest Sunrise by Aly Martinez. It is the first book in a contemporary romance duet, and is it available to read for FREE on KindleUnlimited or you can purchase it for 99 cents for a limited time.
  • You can follow Aly’s newsletter for exclusive news about the duet.

 

 

 

The Darkest Sunrise (The Darkest Sunrise Duet, #1)

Purchase it now:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

Synopsis:

Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.

Whoever coined that phrase is a bald-faced liar. Words are often the sharpest weapon of all, triggering some of the most powerful emotions a human can experience.

“You’re pregnant.”

“It’s a boy.”

“Your son needs a heart transplant.”

Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.

Lies.

Syllables and letters may not be tangible, but they can still destroy your entire life faster than a bullet from a gun.

Two words—that was all it took to extinguish the sun from my sky.

“He’s gone.”

For ten years, the darkness consumed me.

In the end, it was four deep, gravelly words that gave me hope of another sunrise.

“Hi. I’m Porter Reese.”

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Excerpt:

Porter: Did you make it home safely?

Me: I did. I just got into bed actually.

Porter: Funny you should mention that…how do you feel about tacos?

Me: In bed?

Porter: What? No! We’ve been on two dates. Do I look easy to you?

Me: You just said “Funny you should mention that…how do you feel about tacos?” After I said I just got into bed.

Porter: Ohhhh…see I thought you said, “I just got a burrito actually.”

Me: Uh…I typed it. I didn’t say it.

Porter: Fine! I didn’t have a good transition from bed to see if you wanted to go have tacos with me tomorrow.

I laughed and rolled to my side, kicking the covers off to combat the new warmth coursing through my veins.

Me: I don’t know. If you count the Spring Fling, that’s like four dates in two days.

Porter: I know. You can’t get enough of me. Don’t worry. I find it endearing.

Me: Well, that’s a relief.

Porter: Okay. Okay. You don’t need to beg. Yes, I’ll have tacos with you tomorrow at noon. I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy who can get us reservations at Taco Bell.

I smiled so wide I feared it would split my face.

Me: I knew dating a restaurateur would have its perks.

Porter: What can I say? I’m quite a catch. Now, say yes to lunch.

Me: Why are you always trying to force me into having meals with you?

Porter: Because if I left our dates up to you, we’d be eating tacos in bed. That’s at least a sixth-date kind of activity. Slow down there, Mills.

My laugh echoed off the bare walls of my bedroom. Closing my eyes, I sucked in a breath and sank deep into my bed.

Me: You’re right. My mind was clearly in the Mexican gutter. My deepest heartfelt apologies.

Porter: Forgiven. Listen, I just got a text from my guy who knows a guy who knows a guy and unfortunately Taco Bell is fully booked for tomorrow. However, he was able to get us a table for two at Antojitos.

Antojitos wasn’t your average restaurant—it was an experience. The whole place was decorated like a quaint road in Mexico, and waiters wandered around dressed as street vendors offering a plethora of authentic Mexican fare. Every day, the menu was different, but people raved about it. It was always delicious. They didn’t take reservations, so there was usually a line wrapped around the block.

Me: That’s not fair. You can’t tease a girl with Taco Bell and then try to use Antojitos as a sad second choice.

Porter: I know. I know. And to make it up to you, I’d be willing to eat your tacos in bed on our FIFTH date.

Porter: Also…I JUST realized how filthy that sounded. I swear I didn’t mean it like that.

I barked a laugh and paused my fingers over my keyboard when I saw the text bubble pop up. He was typing again.

Porter: I mean…unless you did. In which case, we can do tacos in bed any time you’d like.

Porter: Unless you were talking about real tacos, in which case the crumbs sound like a nightmare.

Porter: Actually, can you do me a favor and delete the last four messages from me without reading them? M’kay thanks.

Tears—actual tears—were in my eyes. I was laughing that hard.

Porter: Christ. Why aren’t you responding now?

Me: Because it’s more fun to watch you sweat.

Porter: Are you laughing?

Me: Yep.

Porter: That makes it almost worth the embarrassment.

Yeah. Okay. We were talking about eating tacos in bed (which was only slightly less horrifying than sitting on the same side of the booth), but I’ll be damned if that warmth didn’t fill me again.

Me: Antojitos sounds amazing. I have to swing by my office in the morning, so I’ll meet you there at noon.

Porter: Sounds good. Sleep tight.

Me: You too.

I sighed all dreamy-like and started to put my phone down on the nightstand, but the text bubble showed up again. I waited. And waited some more. Boring holes into my phone for at least three minutes until finally his message appeared.

Porter: Confession: I wish I would have kissed you tonight.

My heart stopped and my stomach dipped as I read it three times before finding the courage to reply.

Me: You did.

Porter: No. Not like that. I’m talking about one where you’d spend the rest of your night touching your bruised lips, and I’d spend the rest of mine desperately trying to memorize the way you tasted.

My whole body came alive with a hum, from the tips of my fingers to my peaked nipples and everything in between. The sweet ache of arousal. I threw my head back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. I’d been with men over the years. After all, sex was just as much about biology as it was about emotion. But, when the orgasm faded, so did my interest in the other person. Looking back on those encounters, I remembered the release—the brief moments when I’d allowed myself to let go and actually feel something with another person. But not once in ten years had I remembered being kissed. I’m positive it had happened, but it hadn’t been enough to trigger a memory.

Yet there I was, staring at a text describing a kiss that hadn’t happened, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt I’d never forget it.

Me: Confession: I wish you would have done that too.

Porter: Tomorrow, Charlotte.

It was a promise.

One I had every intention of letting him keep.

 

 

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The Brightest Sunset (The Darkest Sunrise Duet, #2)

Available Now

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

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Don’t miss this amazing duet!

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AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Originally from Savannah, Georgia, USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez now lives in South Carolina with her four young children.

Never one to take herself too seriously, she enjoys cheap wine, mystery leggings, and baked feta. It should be known, however, that she hates pizza and ice cream, almost as much as writing her bio in the third person.

She passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a super-sized tumbler of wine by her side.

 

 

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