ROOKIE MISTAKE by Dakota Madison **RELEASE BLITZ**

Title: Rookie Mistake
Series: California Dreamers Series
Author: Dakota Madison
Genre: Adult, Romantic Comedy
Published: June 16, 2016
Published by: Short on Time Books

When a police recruit reports for duty he discovers his wild one-night stand from the previous weekend is his new field training officer. ROOKIE MISTAKE is a romantic comedy novella by USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Dakota Madison. After serving seven years as a police officer in a small beach community is Southern California, Maya Navarro feels like she’s finally been accepted by her peers. Now as a newly appointed Field Training Officer she can finally make her mark. Returning to California after serving two tours of duty in Iraq, Cody Jackson makes the decision to become a police officer. He graduated from the Academy with flying colors and just has to make it through his field training to become a full-fledged member of the force. Maya and Cody are both nursing broken hearts when their best friends push them into a one-night stand with each other. Even though their wild night together is the hottest sex either one of them has ever had they part ways believing they will never see each other again. Until Cody reports for his first day of field training and discovers that Maya is his supervisor. Maya would rather die than admit to her sergeant the reason she can’t oversee Cody’s training. So she’s stuck with him for ten weeks of very close and personal contact on a daily basis. As things heat up between them they need to remain strictly professional, or risk ruining their careers. WARNING: This book contains foul language, sexual innuendo and a little bit of hanky-panky. Buyer beware. CALIFORNIA DREAMERS is a series of interconnecting romantic comedy stories that can be read as STAND ALONE NOVELLAS or as part of the SERIES.

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Rookie Mistake Excerpt © Dakota Madison 2016
There’s a knock on the door of my apartment. I don’t want to see anyone in my current state so I ignore it. Maybe if I’m lucky whoever it is will go away.
Apparently I’m not that lucky.
There’s more knocking.
I’ve lived in my tiny studio apartment for the last five years. I realize it’s not much, but it’s what I can afford on a public servant’s salary in very expensive Southern California. I prefer to think of my closet-sized dwelling as cozy. I work crazy hours so it’s not like I’m home that much anyway. I basically just need a place to crash and shower.
I’ve been crying for the last five hours and twenty-eight minutes. I’ve gone through six boxes of heavy two-ply tissues that are now scattered all over my living room floor.
The person at the door isn’t going to give up without a fight. He or she has decided to start pounding.
“Who…is…it?” I manage to chirp between heavy sobs.
“It’s your sister from another mister,” a female voice replies.
I don’t have to open the door to know it’s my best friend, Zoe. Her heavy Brooklyn accent definitely stands out on the West coast.
I grab a tissue and blow my nose. Then I toss it on the floor to join the rest of its former box mates, used then so recklessly discarded. 
At that moment I realize those tissues are a metaphor for how I’m feeling…cast aside like unwanted trash.
I somehow manage to pick myself up from my daybed and stagger towards the door. I feel as lifeless as a zombie and I don’t think I look much better.   
I know I shouldn’t glance at myself in the mirror. Seeing the horror show I’ve become will only make me feel worse. I’ve had a complete and total emotional breakdown.
It’s hard not to sneak a peek at myself when the mirror is hanging right next to the front door.
Ugh. I look a lot worse than I imagined. My long dark hair is askew. It looks like I’ve just walked through a wind tunnel. And my normally large dark eyes are red and swollen from crying.
“If you run away screaming I won’t be offended,” I warn Zoe as I open the door.
She looks me up and down. “I’m not going to lie. You’re a wreck.”
She pushes past me into my apartment. Unlike the disaster otherwise known as my hair, Zoe’s hair always looks perfect.
“What’s going on?” she asks. “You’re normally so uptight and guarded. It takes a lot for you to even crack a smile. You’ve obviously been crying. That’s not like you, tough girl.”
“I’m having an emotional crisis.”
“Clearly.” She plops down on my daybed. “Let me guess. Guy trouble.”
I sniffle. “Noah broke up with me. He told me he was tired of having his balls in my purse. I don’t even own a purse.”
She dismisses my concerns with a wave of her hand. “What does he know about balls? If anything he needs to grow a pair. You’re better off without him.”
“I thought he was the one.” I start sobbing again.
Zoe grabs a tissue from the nearly empty box and hands it to me. If I don’t implement some tissue conservation measures immediately I’ll soon be wiping my nose on a dishtowel.
“In the grand scheme of things you were with Noah for like a minute. Another minute and you’ll get over him. A minute after that and you’ll be with someone else.”
“We were together almost three months. I thought he loved me.”
“He just wanted a garage to park that long black limousine of his in every night.”
“He’s already found another garage to park in,” I snivel. “I guess she stays open all night. He never has to wait for his space.”
“I hope her garage door closes on him and whacks his limo in half. What a dick.”
“I’ve become a serial dumpee.”
“What does that mean?”
“Guys seem to be excited to go out with me at first, but after a month or two they split. I don’t think they can handle my job.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because that’s exactly what they tell me. They can’t handle dating a police officer.”

USA TODAY Bestselling author Dakota Madison is known for writing new adult, love in midlife, and contemporary romance with a little spice and lots of heart. Dakota is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry. When she's not at her computer creating spicy stories Dakota likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds. Dakota also writes under the pen names SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and REN MONTERREY.

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***BLOG TOUR*** DUCK by MariaLisa deMora

Reuben Nelms has worked hard all his life. First to escape the West Texas town where he grew up, then to negate the legacy of his family. One of his worst regrets was failing to protect a young woman from evil dealt by his blood brother. For years afterwards, he watched and protected her from the shadows, most comfortable in that faceless role.

 

Now known by his road name, Duck feels he’s finally found redemption in watching that woman blossom and grow, sheltered by her association with his brothers by choice, the Rebel Wayfarers motorcycle club. Things were settled, predictable, until a desperate call from home sets him scrambling and he is back front and center, home again in West Texas, finding himself confronted daily with reminders of his horrific family heritage.

 

Treading alongside the remembered fear and regret surrounding him walks a temptation, Brenda Calloway, the hometown woman he left behind. The efficient business manager of the cattle company he inherited from his father, his childhood friend is now a widow. More beautiful than ever, she’s a single parent with a secret, unaware of the power she still wields over Reuben’s heart.

 

Will their second chance love be able to take root and grow in the dry deserts of West Texas? Can Duck put aside the man he’s become, sloughing off the brotherhood and leaving that behind to become Reuben again, or will he be able to pick up the pieces of his teenage love and still continue his life in Chicago as a member of the Rebel Wayfarers MC?

 

“Everyone has three lives: a public life, a private life, and a secret life.”
– Gabriel Garcia Marquez

From Chapter 12: Wanting too much

“Reuben,” she said, keeping her gaze flat and level, “I need to tell you something.” She stopped and swallowed, her head shaking back and forth involuntarily. Reaching up she opened the medicine cabinet, losing her reflection for a moment, gaze catching on her diaphragm container, absurdly thinking it had gotten more use in the past few days than the previous five years. Hands trembling, she shut the cabinet, again looking at herself in the mirror.

“Reuben,” she began again, voice quavering. “There’s something I need to say to you.” Tipping her chin down, wet streamers of hair fell in curtains on either side of her face. “This is harder than anything I’ve ever done in my life,” she whispered, lifting her gaze back to the mirror. He deserves to know. With a deep breath, she said, “Reuben, we need to talk.”

Her shirt had pulled on crooked, sticking to her, and as she attempted to straighten it the fabric slid in jerky movements over her still damp body. Nothing’s easy. Turning, she opened the door, gasping in surprise to see Reuben there. Leaning against the opposite wall, his arms were tightly folded across his chest. He made an imposing figure, standing there immobile, staring at her. His voice cold and toneless, he barked, “You got something to say to me, Brenda?”

Mouth open, she stared at him, unable to speak. Her practiced words failing at the evidence of his anger. He let the silence build between them for a moment before he said, “Never mind, just save it. I get it. You saw a side of me you didn’t care for today, then saw something you could like better. This won’t work between us, Brenda. Good thing we learned it early on.” His words made it impossible for her to suck in breath, hitting her in ways that felt physical.

“We can both go back to our lives. I’ll stick around until after the rodeo, make sure you have help in place. It’s why you called me, right? Just for the business. Nothing else going on here, right? Nothing else on your mind. Nothing to say to me.” He paused, tipping his chin down, gaze raking along her form, lips twisting in a sneer that froze the blood in her veins. “Means there isn’t any reason for me to stay beyond that.” He straightened and unfolded his arms, hands hanging in heavy balls of clenched muscle at his sides. “Just like before, there isn’t anything here for me. Nothing but goddamned stupid pipe dreams.”

© MariaLisa deMora

 

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 Raised in the south, MariaLisa learned about the magic of books at an early age. Every summer, she would spend hours in the local library, devouring books of every genre. Self-described as a book-a-holic, she says “I’ve always loved to read, but then I discovered writing, and found I adored that, too. For reading … if nothing else is available, I’ve been known to read the back of the cereal box.”

 A hockey fan, hiker, gamer, and single mom of a special needs son, she embraces her inner geek and has been working in the tech field for a publishing company for a couple decades.

 Music is a driving passion, and she says, “I love music of nearly any genre — jazz, country, rock, alt rock, metal, classical, bluegrass, rap, hip hop … you name it, I listen to it. I can often be seen dancing through the house in the early mornings. But I really, REALLY love live music. My favorite thing with music is seeing bands in small, dive bars [read: small, intimate venues]. If said bar [venue] has a good selection of premium tequila, then that’s a plus!”

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