Book, Cover Reveal

One Second After Another by Bethany-Kris Cover Reveal

ONE SECOND AFTER ANOTHER

by Bethany-Kris
Cover Credits: London Miller
The After Another Trilogy, book #3
Publication Date: November 9, 2020
Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense, Crime Thriller, Organized Crime

Amazon: https://geni.us/OneSecond
iTunes: https://apple.co/3g3lkjc
B&N: https://bit.ly/313XKyG
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2DYf5jI

There’s only one way this can end …

Penny Dunsworth isn’t hiding.

Not anymore. An assassin turned legend, AWOL from her organization and hunted from all sides, nothing is going to stop her from finishing what she started. By the time she’s done with The Elite, no truth will be left untold, and maybe—just maybe—she can go back …

That is if she can make it out alive.

Luca Puzza only wanted to help.

His obsession with the white ghost has left him alone, estranged from his own world and family, and in constant danger. That doesn’t mean he’s going to give up. Besides, if he found her once, then he can do it again. And this time, he won’t be the one letting her go.

There’s too much on the line to fail.

She dares to wish for a life after pain. He dares to think they could have it. But it only takes one second for everything to change—one mistake could end it all.

Some say legends never die.

But what happens when they do?

*

NOTE: One Second After Another is book 3 in the After Another trilogy. It follows the same couple – Luca and Penny – from present to past, and back again. The books must be read in order. Be warned, the trilogy discusses a subject that may be triggering.

Rain clung to the streets of Brooklyn. Penny avoided the rivulets of water dripping from the eaves of buildings when she dared to stop underneath one as best she could.

The black windbreaker she wore did nothing to keep the wetness from seeping through to her clothes and skin underneath. Despite the chill in the air and the raindrops plastering what white-blonde strands of her hair managed to escape from beneath the jacket’s hood, she didn’t shiver.

Really, she barely felt it at all.

The discomfort was a comfort. Something else she was used to now. A constant sense of unrest—that nothing was right or good in a real way. A little bit of water wasn’t going to make it any better or worse.

Right?

Penny’s gaze swept the quiet Brooklyn street, thankful that the rain had decided to fall despite the weather forecast giving only a fifty-fifty chance of showers. It cleared the streets of almost everyone who didn’t need to be on them for one reason or another. With the sun starting to fall beyond the view of the high buildings, darkness had finally begun to creep through the streets.

She felt safe.

Or safer.

At least, to be out and about like she was. With barely twelve hours on the ground in New York, Penny had to start moving fast. Part of her plan had been put into motion the second she opened up the safe in her hotel room. It was where she kept several sets of fake identification, a burner phone—one The League didn’t know about—and cash she stacked up. She was running on a limited timeline to get certain things done before someone came looking for her.

Someone like The League.

Or The Elite.

If they hadn’t already.

Penny was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. She was neither ignorant, nor arrogant. Certainly not enough of one or the other to think that her decision to go AWOL from her handlers would be met with sighs of resignation and little else.

And shit.

The Elite was already hunting her. Might as well make it worth it.

Stepping out from under the entrance of an apartment building, rain splattered against Penny’s face as she started her walk again. Cabs were an option if she cared to hail or call one. There was something to be said for walking, though.

Like the fact it let her think. She hadn’t been doing that enough lately. Well, not for herself, anyway.

Time to do that.

It wasn’t as though Penny was just walking to walk—she did have a purpose for being on the streets of Brooklyn in the middle of a cold rain while the sun crept lower and lower with every passing minute. That purpose became clear when she slipped into an alley two blocks away from the last place she stopped.

A car waited there.

The two-door Lexus coup flicked on its lights—once, and then twice, as was agreed upon—illuminating her wet figure in the mouth of the alley. Penny wasted no time slipping further down the alley to the passenger side of the car. Had it been less wet outside, she wouldn’t even have bothered with getting inside the vehicle.

Instead, she slipped into the passenger seat and shoved her hood back to expose the fishtail braid flipped over her shoulder that kept most of her hair out of her face. The guy sitting in the driver’s seat didn’t even turn to give her a hello, let alone a look.

“It’s in the back,” Carson told her.

“Everything?”

“Anything you asked for. I made a list.”

Penny rolled her eyes, but smiled, too. “You made a list?”

“You made it clear when you called that this was important. I didn’t want to miss anything. Not really good for business, you know?”

She did.

All too well.

Penny found the black duffle bag in the backseat like Carson promised. The independent contractor didn’t really have a specific job—he was known to do many things as long as the pay was good and came through. He’d do it without much talk, and he didn’t sell information when the chance was on the market, so to speak. She only knew of the guy through other assassins at The League who used him on occasion when in the New York area.

Or Jersey.

Vermont, too.

Carson was flexible.

He also wasn’t owned. By anyone. Penny liked that a lot more.

Dropping the duffle bag on her lap, Penny yanked open the zipper and spread the top apart to see what was inside. Carson hadn’t lied. A pile of burner phones, a small laptop, phone cards and more stared back at her. Sticking her hand into the bag, she moved things aside to find the wigs she asked for. There was also a case of FX makeup, a forty-five millimeter and nine with ammo and a silencer … and finally, antibiotics, a few knives, and a particular obsidian blade with a soft touch handle setting on top of new cargo pants and other black clothing.

Penny closed the bag. “It’s all there, thanks.”

Carson shot her a look, his tattooed hands never leaving the steering wheel when he asked, “Did you expect anything different?”

“Some of it was unusual.”

Like the makeup. And the specific knife she had wanted.

The man only chuckled, asking, “Yeah, I thought so, too. What, are you going to war or on a stage?”

“Maybe both.”

Anything was possible now.

In the inner pocket of her windbreaker, Penny pulled out an envelope that was only a little damp from the rain. She passed it over to the man in the driver’s seat. His payment that he took without as much as a thank you, not that she expected acknowledgment for their business together.

This was how it worked. They saw nothing. Knew nothing. Said nothing.

But just in case …

“If anyone asks,” Penny said when she reached for the door handle to exit the vehicle, “you didn’t see the white ghost in New York. It won’t end well for you if you bring up my name to anyone. Understood?”

Carson lifted one shoulder, unbothered but still recognizing that she warned him. “You know, I don’t usually work with people who make it a habit to threaten me, Penny.”

So be it.

Except …

Penny laughed as she stepped out of the vehicle, calling back into the man, “I’m not the one you’ll have to worry about seeing the threat through, though. Keep it in mind.”

There were always worst monsters waiting in the wings. Penny was only one of them.

She closed the door. The last thing she saw from the man was red taillights as he pulled out of the alleyway. That was fine with her.

One thing done.

She was one second closer to ending it all …

THIS IS THE PERFECT TIME TO CATCH UP WITH THE FIRST TWO BOOKS IN THE AFTER ANOTHER TRILOGY!


Amazon: https://geni.us/OneStep
iTunes: https://apple.co/349Ui7p
Kobo: https://bit.ly/3122Qvl
B&N: https://bit.ly/3gY9hVA
Google Play: https://bit.ly/2Y6xUIi

ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD

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Book, Cover Reveal

One Step After Another by Bethany-Kris Cover Reveal

ONE STEP AFTER ANOTHER

by Bethany-Kris
Cover Credits: London Miller
The After Another Trilogy, book #1
Publication Date: September 14, 2020
Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense, Crime Thriller, Organized Crime


Amazon: https://geni.us/OneStep
iTunes: https://apple.co/349Ui7p
Kobo: https://bit.ly/3122Qvl
B&N: https://bit.ly/3gY9hVA
Google Play: https://bit.ly/2Y6xUIi

He finds the unfindable, but she’s terribly good at hiding …

Penny Dunsworth is dead.

Well, she should be—a piece of her certainly is. The broken girl she once was no longer exists. Now a trained assassin for The League, she’s turned into the worst nightmare for the monsters who once haunted her every waking moment. She has to be … it’s the only way to keep her past safe. That is if she can keep it from catching up.

Luca Puzza is chasing a ghost.

He’s never once been able to catch her in the five years that he spent searching. Until now. The promise he made to find the girl who disappeared without a trace turned into an obsession that changed his life. But the woman he was looking for is only a shadow of who he finds. She’s dangerous … for his heart and life, and so are the secrets she’s protecting.

One can only play with monsters for so long before they start to notice you’re not the same. In this world, predators can just as easily become prey.

Except she stopped being a victim long ago.
And it’s time for this to end.

*

Note: One Step After Another is book one of the After Another trilogy following the same couple over a journey that takes them from present, to past, to future. The books should be read in order. The trilogy discusses triggering topics that may be uncomfortable for some. Please be advised and read at your own discretion.

“MISS Carter, whenever you’re ready.”

Regardless of how many times Penny Dunsworth used aliases—many times over her five years as an assassin working for The League—she had never really become accustomed to the revolving door of identities. It was part of the job. Expected, even. Yet, hearing another name that wasn’t hers still took Penny a second to answer.

“Thank you,” she told the driver currently holding the right side, rear passenger door open. “We won’t need further help, or the car.”

“I was told to be here at twelve to—”

“Excuse me,” Penny said, stepping out of the vehicle and turning her back to the man as she grabbed the edge of the car door. It forced the driver to move, but also allowed the other passenger in the rear seat to exit as well. “Hurry. We’re not drawing attention here, Delilah. Remember?”

Compared to Penny’s form-fitted black gown, matching hat—that was better suited for the beach than the formal dinner and event happening a few doors away inside the Manhattan hotel—Delilah’s white get-up was quite a sight as she left the vehicle. Well, Delilah wasn’t her real name, but it was what her papers said, and Marise liked the option when Dare handed over the five different identifications for the job. Choices were always good.

Today, Marise was Delilah. Penny was Georgina. And none of it was true.

The skirt of Marise’s white gown, made up of layers of chiffon, ruffled in the wind but not much. The silk cloak with the large hood that kept her blonde hair and most of her face hidden from any view up above—camera angles, mostly—kept the loose layers of the gown from blowing wildly.

Side by side on the street, Penny and Marise probably appeared to be total opposites. She towered over the girl’s four and a half feet by a foot and half in her patent leather pumps. Their gowns were a contrast in both color and style. Even their hair—Marise with blonde curls, and Penny in her pin-straight black wig—couldn’t be more different.

And yet despite those obvious physical differences, if anyone asked, the story was simple—Penny was Marise’s mother. Or … the identities they had taken on were a mother and daughter pair, for that matter.

On the surface, anyway.

Beneath that, well, things were a lot darker. As was usually the way in their business. A person couldn’t play with monsters and never come face to face with one, after all. In all her twenty-three years, it was one lesson Penny almost wished she had never learned. Thing was, if she hadn’t learned it, then she wouldn’t be who she was now.

“Miss Carter, this way, please,” said the man in a three-piece black suit with coiled wire hanging down from the comm in his ear. He held open the front door of the hotel while another man, dressed similarly, stood a foot back in the entryway. Definitely not hotel security—more likely part of the team for the father of the man Penny would soon be visiting upstairs in a suite.

Penny smiled. “Absolutely. Delilah, follow me.”

Her partner on the job said nothing but didn’t hesitate to trail behind Penny who followed the two men dressed in black. The men didn’t speak to each other, or the women walking only two feet behind. Or to any of the many people milling about in the large entry of the upscale hotel. Music and laughter filtered in through the open doorways of the bar and ballroom decorated in lengthy, sheer drapes.

Penny took all of it in. And barely even moved her head to do it.

Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been to a dozen of these kinds of events when she was younger. A wealthy family, too much privilege and power … of course, she had been dressed up and dragged to things exactly like this just because it was good for their last name to be tied to it all.

Not that she cared to think about it.

She never did.

Liar, her mind hissed as a hundred memories passed through her brain, making her heart beat harder and her chest tight. She was a liar because she thought about it too much.

Penny had just become better at hiding it. The League helped with that. Not that she was willing to admit the training they put her through had helped beyond anything more than teaching her how to kill another human in fifty different ways.

“Step inside,” the man to the left said as he and his partner came to a stop near the elevators. Only one was already open and waiting.

Penny moved into the open elevator at the far right of a bank of four. Marise didn’t need to be told to follow, nor did she raise her head enough to allow the cameras outside or inside the elevator to catch more than a shadow or the curve of her lips. The same way Penny’s hat kept her face from view despite it not really going with the outfit.

Win some, lose some.

“Floor eight, right?” Penny asked, smiling at the suits waiting outside.

“Floor eight. Suite eight-oh-one.”

She knew that, too.

At least the assholes could feel like they were really doing something more than just delivering a man’s fetish.

Penny hit the button for the appropriate floor and waited until the door closed before she hit another. Two floors lower than the eighth. “You’ll be fine—just get the hell out of here and make sure they don’t see you leave, huh?”

Marise passed her a look. “What if he has someone waiting up there? Another one of those assholes in a suit—one with a gun?”

That was cute.

Funny, even.

She could do these jobs alone except for when she couldn’t and needed a decoy. Say like another assassin who, when dressed up a certain way looked younger than she was. As far as Penny knew, Marise was somewhere in the range of eighteen years or so. About the same age Penny had been when she walked into The League five years earlier with a black folder in hand and no idea what would come next.

Except for tonight.

Because tonight, Marise—or Delilah—wasn’t supposed to look her age at all.

“Get off on the sixth floor,” Penny said. “No one will be waiting up there with him. They never have anyone. The entire point of what they do is the less who know, the better.”

Marise didn’t argue. She also got off the elevator on the sixth floor.

The rest, Penny could do alone.

Besides, she liked it that way.

CALLING ALL REVIEWERS, BLOGGERS, BOOKSTAGRAMMERS! YOU CAN NOW SIGNUP TO PARTICIPATE IN THE AFTER ANOTHER TRILOGY EVENTS!

One Step After Another: https://indiesage.com/one-stepbk/

One Breath After Another: https://indiesage.com/one-breathbk/

One Second After Another: https://indiesage.com/one-secondbk/

ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD

WebsiteBlogTwitterFacebookInstagramBookbubGoodreadsPinterestMailing ListAmazon Author Page

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Book, Cover Reveal

Little Lies by H. Hunting Cover Reveal

Little Lies - CR banner.jpg

I used to be the one who saved her.
But I don’t want to save her anymore.

From New York Times bestselling author, Helena Hunting writing as H. Hunting, comes an unforgettable, beautiful and angsty new adult romance. Little Lies is releasing November 16th, and we have the irresistible cover!

LittleLies AMAZON (1)

I don’t want you.

You mean nothing to me.

I never loved you.

I turned my words into swords.

And I cut her down.

Shoved the blade in and watched her fall.

I said I’d never hurt her, and I did.

Years later, I’m faced with all the little lies, the untruths, the false realities, the damage I inflicted, when all I wanted was to indulge my obsession.

Lavender Waters is the princess in the tower. Even her name is the thing fairy tales are made of.

I used to be the one who saved her.

Over and over again.

But I don’t want to save her anymore.

I just want to pretend the lies are still the truth.

Little Lies - PO

Pre-order your copy today!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3gn18sL
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Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/3aWyq0C

Photographer: Michelle Lancaster
Model: Andy Murray
Cover Designer: Hang Le


About Helena Hunting

HelenaHunting

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

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H. Hunting

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