Sapphire Heist Blog Tour

The best part of the windows was the view they afforded—a clear shot into the art gallery across the street, wedged next to an empty storefront on one side and the Atlantis submarine tours on the other, with a slim alley slicing between the gallery and the vacant shop. That must be the property Isla and Eli were trying to purchase to expand the gallery.

Good Lord, business must be good in “Artlandia” if they had the kind of change needed to annex a shop. He chuckled to himself. Of course business was good for Eli. The man was a thief. The bastard stole money from hardworking Americans. Jake dug his fingers into his palms, a burst of righteous anger fueling him—a reminder of why he did what he did for a living. Because rich, privileged men like Eli Thompson thought nothing of skimming a little off the top. Eli had done that to the tune of $10 million from his very own hedge fund, stealing it from the Middle America customers the fund served. Then he turned their retirement savings to diamonds and skipped out of the good old USA and into the Caymans with the loot in his pockets, and Jake had the evidence to prove it, thanks to his client—that same fund. All he needed to do now was locate those watermarked diamonds, take them back, and return the money to its rightful owners.

Eli had gotten away with his fraud so far. But the road stopped here with Jake. His mantra was simple: “Don’t let the bastards get away with anything.”

That was the promise he’d made as a teenager after the drunk driver who smashed into his parents’ car had gotten off scot-free. Now as an adult, Jake had no qualms whatsoever with tracking down the criminals and scum of the world to make sure they paid up.

Soon, it would be Eli’s turn.

And if the tip he and Steph had garnered last night about the location of the gems was right—inside the frames on the art in the gallery office—Eli’s opportunity to pay the piper was coming due any minute. Made sense that the rocks would be stuffed inside frames. You could store a lot of stones in that sort of clever hiding spot. Come to think of it, the frames he’d seen in the halls at Eli’s Sapphire nightclub had an unusual look to them, too. Strangely heavy for such light, contemporary art. One more possible option to pursue.

Jake lowered his shades, placed his palms on the windowsill, and stared across the street. From the second story of the church, he had a bird’s-eye view of the gallery. Well, it was really courtesy of the binoculars built into the awesome sunglasses he wore today that he was able to keep watch on the back door, then the front, then the alley along the side of Isla’s Island Gallery. The most useful sunglasses ever, they provided a close-up look into what was many feet away. He enjoyed the little gadgets of the job, like his lock-picking kit and the sunglasses with the built-in zoom.

With its bright white walls and steel framework, the gallery exuded class and style. The proprietor was catering to the wealthiest clientele on the island, even if it was located amid souvenir shops, bars, and tour operators. As Jake scanned the swank location, he took mental note of the number of employees visible in the gallery—three, including one at the reception desk—as well as the activity of the establishment.

Busy.

A green Honda pulled up outside the gallery, and a tall guy with graying hair emerged, glanced at the gallery doorway, then popped into a souvenir shop down the block. A thick, burly man in a suit strolled by next, ducking into the gallery for five minutes or so, chatting with Isla the whole time. A woman in a flowy red dress walked in next.

When the woman left the gallery, she blew a kiss to Isla, who held open the door. The woman breezed down the street with a brochure in hand. Jake checked his watch. One more hour ’til showtime. This morning in Steph’s hotel room, they’d checked out every angle of Isla’s Island Gallery with Google street view as they’d prepped, but it was wise to obtain an actual visual with one’s own eyes.

Though the visual he wanted in his line of sight again was Steph Anderson.

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About Lauren Blakely: Since self-publishing her debut romance novel CAUGHT UP IN US three years ago, Lauren Blakely has sold more than 1 million books. She is known for her sexy contemporary romance style that’s full of heat, heart and humor. A devout fan of cake and canines, Lauren has plotted entire novels while walking her four-legged friends. She lives in California with her family. With ten New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than fifty times. Her bestselling series include Sinful Nights, Seductive Nights, No Regrets, Caught Up in Love, and Fighting Fire as well as standalone romantic comedies like BIG ROCK and MISTER O, which were both instant New York Times Bestsellers. In the fall she’ll release WELL HUNG, another romantic comedy. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter:laurenblakely.com/newsletter.

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The Sapphire Heist by Lauren Blakely
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Adventure, suspense, fun, love and more! I was so involved in this story, I lost track of time. This was a great continuation of Jake and Steph's story. I could not put this book down. I found myself in their world and that was all that existed. Lauren never disappoints. I can't begin to tell you how much I love her work and this story was no different.

View all my reviews

Nothing Ever Lasts

Title: Nothing Ever Lasts Author: Jasmine Lee Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult Release Date: December 14, 2015 Cover Design: Sheri McGathy Models: Bri Jay, Lance Jones Photographer: Tabitha Patterson Giveaway ➜➜ http://bit.ly/1WnqSX3 Buy Links: Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1NsvgAO Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1ir4Cx9 Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1KiXIzG Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1KPeixK Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1M7VpWH iTunes: http://apple.co/1Mv7fdJ B&N: http://bit.ly/1UZGa1r Add to Goodreads TBR Synopsis: I’m an asshole. I got no shame in admitting it, hell my wife knew that first hand after we worked together the first time. It isn’t like I tried to be this candy ass punk of a douche to sweep her off her feet. Why would I waste my fucking time with that bullshit? When I can be a complete asshole and get her on her back. Crude? Yeah, something like that. But in the end I don’t give a shit, I got her. Now

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