Today we have the gorgeous cover reveal for Unmasked by Magan Vernon! We’re very excited about this fantastic new release. Be sure to preorder your copy now!

Title: Unmasked
Genre: New Adult
Author: Magan Vernon
Cover Designer: Kassi Snider of Kassi Jean Formatting
Release Date: November 6th
About Unmasked:
Can a hotshot snowboarder de-ice the ice queen?
At twenty-six, Blake Tremblay is one of the oldest snowboarders in the game. His sights are set on the gold medal, and he knows it’s now or never.
Kelly Johnson has spent her entire life skating and winning. She’s had no time for friends or an active social life, earning her the nickname “Ice Queen” – in and out of the rink.
Blake makes a bet without knowing all the terms. His ego won’t let him back out, even though his target is none other than the American Ice Queen herself.
What are the odds the dreadlocked playboy can warm the frosty figure skater when the real games are unmasked?
Let The Games Begin.
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Exclusive Excerpt:
I wasn’t a big
drinker. Ever. And I had no idea how many bottles of alcohol Blake, and I had
gone through. Or when he got so funny.
Maybe it was the
accent. It was a mixture of sort-of-kind-of-french and northern Minnesotan,
which I guess was basically Canada. But when he spoke he rolled his Rs like a
French man, and I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth. And I should have
stopped staring or stopped talking after the first glass. Then he just kept
filling mine up, and I kept staring, and there we were, me laughing and staring
at his beautiful mouth.
“You really had a
Mohawk for Sochi trials?” I asked, almost spitting out my Soju that was a
sugary vodka and supposed to be a very popular drink in Korea.
Blake laughed and
filled my cup again. “Yeah. I wanted to stand out. You Americans can’t have all
the flair with your blue-haired swimmers.”
I pointed at him and
leaned on my elbow. “Hey! Those summer guys aren’t the same, and you know it!”
He grabbed my hand,
and a smirk crossed his face that brought out one small dimple on his cheek. I
don’t know if it was the large amounts of alcohol we consumed or that dimpled
smile, but all of my body felt flushed, and I was sure my face had to be redder
than the Canadian flag. “It’s not nice to point, Miss Johnson. Even an American
knows that.”
I tried not to focus
on how warm and rough his hands were on mine. His whole palm covered my fists,
and I briefly wondered how big other things were before quickly shooting that
thought out of my head, and pulling my hand away.
I didn’t need to think about
sex, no matter how long it had been. This was The Games. Not a time for romance
or lust. “I wanna see a Mohawk picture. Come on; I know you’ve got one on your
phone.”
“Only if you show me
one of yours pictures. I’m sure you have some from your early days of skating.
The American costumes in the nineties weren’t exactly some of your proudest
moments. Or at least that’s what your movies showed me.” He raised an eyebrow
before taking a sip of his drink, which was more like a giant gulp.
Gathering some
courage, I poured the rest of the bottle in his glass. “I don’t even know what
I have on my phone. Nothing exciting. No 1980s scrunchies or poofy sleeved
leotards.”
He laughed. “I’m sure
you’ve got something. Now show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”
About Magan Vernon:
Magan Vernon has been living off of reader tears since she wrote her first short story in 2004. She now spends her time killing off fictional characters, pretending to plot while she really just watches Netflix, and she tries to do this all while her two young children run amok around her Texas ranch.
Connect with Magan:
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