Every Rejection You Make Tour and Giveaway

 

They need each other, yet they don't even like each other.

Every Rejection You Make

Faerell Book 2, Rejected Mates Collection

by TJ Bell

Genre: Paranormal Fantasy Romance 

The Usurper has been captured. The rightful queen has claimed her throne. Faerell, the land of the fae and wolves, is once again safe.

Faery Warrior Tessa should be celebrating. Instead, she’s climbing a mountain with a wolf wanna-be Warrior and a prisoner no one trusts, and she’s humiliated by the treachery of her ex-partner.

As if that weren’t enough, the wolf wanna-be Warrior, Rollo, saved her life, so now she’s beholden to him.

Which is a problem, because she’s also attracted to him.

Which is a bigger problem because she doesn’t even like him.

This is the second book in the Faerell series. For the most enjoyable reading experience, it is recommended to read the books in order.

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“When do we get to start Warrior practice?”

Her shoulders tensed. “Tomorrow, I suppose.” And then she hurried away. That was how she ended conversations that made her uncomfortable.

Which was basically every conversation she had with him.

He’d get used to it. He always did. 

Returning to his suite, he methodically cleared it of all the debris and dust and cobwebs, turning it into a livable space while he listened to the water running through the pipes in the wall between his room and Tessa’s. 

He pictured her in that stall, water pouring over her naked body. Her hands, slippery with soap, roaming over her torso, paying special attention to her breasts, which he was sure were utterly perfect, a handful each—

“Fuck.” 

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts that had made his dick stiff as damn piece of iron.

Yeah, maybe that would work, because iron was deadly to the fae, so if he impaled her with his iron staff, she’d die, and he didn’t want that, did he? 

Except he was fully aware that his dick wasn’t made of iron, so that thought wasn’t helping to deflate it. 

Giving in, he did the only thing he could do; he stripped out of his filthy clothes and climbed into the bathing stall. Pressing one hand against the wall, where he knew Tessa had been standing on the other side a short time ago, he grasped his dick with the other hand. Closing his eyes, he pulled up the image of her bathing, stroking himself as he allowed his imagination to run free.

Getting it out of his system. That’s what he told himself, anyway. 

That task tended to, he dressed and headed down to the kitchen, where he planned to offer to help but hoped she’d decline.

“I can handle it,” she said, right on cue. 

Her hair was still damp from her shower. She’d pulled it into a twist on top of her head. Her clothing was casual, a loose-fitted top and linen pants, sandals instead of boots. A fascinating side to his new Warrior partner, which was no less attractive than the angry badass he’d met and consequently saved after she’d been beaten near to death. 

A fire burned in the hearth, a copper pan warming on the grates. Steam drifted out of a pot that was atop another, smaller flame. There was still a sliver of sun stretching through the windows, but Tessa had already lit the torches. He should probably light the ones lining the staircase and hallway outside their rooms before it became fully dark.

Instead, he asked, “Can you describe any of your attackers?” 

Her shoulders stiffened, and she took a generous drink of wine.

“Oh, I want some of that,” he said, reaching for her cup.

She jerked it out of reach. “Get your own. It’s in the cellar.” 

Guess Warrior partners didn’t share everything. ’Course, he already knew that. As much as he loved the idea, he was certain Tessa would never share a bathing experience with him.

Pity.

Once Rejected, Twice Shy

Faerell Book 1, Rejected Mates Collection

Faith Calhoun was almost forty when she walked in on her husband screwing someone else.

Talk about a terrible way to end what had admittedly not been an iconic decade of her life.

After serving him divorce papers—on her birthday—she heads straight to her favorite bar, where the ultra-hot bartender plies her with drinks to take the edge off.

They end up tumbling into bed together.

That part’s not bad—in fact, it’s really, really good—except in the morning, he rejects her too, and somehow, that rejection is even worse than the first one. Especially when he insists he needs to remain in her life to ensure she’s protected.

From what? Her gossipy neighbors?

Oh, and let’s not forget all the strange occurrences that are getting harder and harder to explain away.

First, there’s a wolf in her house. A real, live, massive wolf. Then the house is attacked and nearly destroyed by some unknown—and unseen—enemy, and, get this, the wolf saves her. Then the bartender tells her he’s a wolf too. It’s like something out of her favorite shifter romance novel—except she’s living it!

And then there’s the icing on the cake: Mikail, the bartender-slash-wolf, tells her she’s a faery princess.

Maybe this week isn’t so bad after all.

If you overlook the reason he kept her identity a secret: the enemies she didn’t know she had want to kill her, and now that she’s been outed.

Her bad week is about to get a whole lot worse.

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TJ Bell is the naughtier alter-ego of romance author Tami Lund (although you should totally read Tami Lund’s books too, because they are really, really good). TJ Bell writes paranormal and fantasy romance, all the time. Her heroines are tough, even if they are broken, and her heroes tend to have a heart of gold under all that alpha. Hell, sometimes they aren’t even alpha at all; after all, who doesn’t love a solid beta hero?

When she isn’t writing snarky, steamy books, TJ Bell likes to take long walks on the beach with a tall glass of wine… oh wait, wrong bio. But still true.

TJ Bell lives in the (sometimes) beautiful state of Michigan, USA, where the weather is glorious approximately 30% of the time, with her even-more-snarky husband, snarky-in-training (and progressing impressively) teenage daughter, and her dog, Kaya, who wants to know if it’s dinnertime yet.

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