Teaser Blitz: Lethal Lies by Rebecca Zanetti

Friday, April 21, 2017 0 comments



Lethal Lies by Rebecca Zanetti (Blood Brothers #2)
On Sale May 16, 2017 from Forever

A deadly secret can't stay buried forever . . . 
Revenge. It's the only thing that will help Anya Best sleep at night. The serial killer who murdered her sister is on the loose, and Anya will stop at nothing to put him behind bars—even use herself as bait to lure him out of hiding. But she can't do this alone.
Private investigator Heath Jones's job is to bring bastards to justice. This time it's personal. He knew the Copper Killer's latest victim so when her sister asks for his help, he's all in. But when Anya uses the media to taunt the killer, she exposes Heath's identity, putting them both in jeopardy. Now, secrets buried long ago are coming to light and the forces determined to destroy him are watching Heath's every move, waiting to exact their own revenge. And they'll use anything and anyone to get to Heath.

“Zanetti balances the adventure and menace of Zara and Ryker's lives with a relatable romance. The result is a story that's sexy and emotional, and filled with a rich look at love in all its forms.” 
—The Washington Post on DEADLY SILENCE


“Budget your time, readers, because this is one that's hard to put down.” —HeroesandHeartbreakers.com on DEADLY SILENCE


“All the more reason to get you out of town,” Heath said quietly.
She shook her head. “No. I’m staying.” Her words were brave, but her chest hurt. No way could she deal with a serial killer all on her own. She could train every day for the rest of her life and not end up as practiced or as deadly as Heath already was, and she knew it. “I understand you have other cases and people after you. So leave, and I’ll handle this myself.”
“Those are big words, baby,” he said softly.
Her lip quivered, and she bit down on it. “I know. I promised her, Heath. It’s all I have left to give to her.”
He paused, understanding crossing his expression. “Ah, sweetheart. Your sister wouldn’t want that for you.” His voice turned velvety and soft. Soothing.
Anya nodded. “I know. But she was my sister. We shared blood and part of a childhood. She took me trick-or-treating when I was five, and it’s one of my best memories. Then when I needed help as an adult, she didn’t hesitate. She came to me right away, like family. She was the first person I really cared about in far too long, and it hurts like hell that I got her killed.”
He breathed out, the emotion in his eyes deepening.
She swallowed. “I have to do this for her. Either you understand that or you don’t.”
“Why don’t you just let us handle it?”
She pressed her point. “I could, but you need me. I’m the bait.” Inwardly, she winced at the description. That wouldn’t help her to convince him. “Also, here’s the deal. This could be a long op. At some point, you have to leave and deal with whatever is haunting you from your past. When you do, I’ll just challenge him again, and next time you won’t be around to assist.”
“That’s extortion,” Heath said, amusement curving his lip.
She grinned. “Apparently I’m getting quite good at it.”
Heath shook his head. “You’re putting me in an untenable position, baby.”
“No, I’m not.” She shrugged out of his hold. Finally. “I’m not yours to protect, Heath. We’re not together, and we’re not responsible for each other.” The words sliced through her even as she said them. “You’ve been more than clear on that score.”
“There’s something here, Anya. Maybe something real and lasting, if I get everything done I need to do.”
She blinked. “What’s that?”
“The less you know the better. Believe me.”
“What a bunch of bullshit. Go back to your ‘This is fake’ proclamation,” she all but yelled. “Your position is one of work . . . and this is just work.”
His chin lifted. “You think this is just work?” The tone—low and filled with tension—zinged through her body.
Her legs trembled with the urge to take a step back. “Yes.”
“Want me to prove otherwise?” His eyes darkened to the color of the sky right before midnight hit.
As a threat, as a warning, it was damn good. But she’d gone too far to give in now. “You can’t.” Yeah, she’d just waved a red flag in front of a bull.
He didn’t move a muscle. His focus on her was so absolute, she wanted to squirm. “You’re into challenging dangerous men these days, aren’t you?”
She kept her stance. “You’re not all that dangerous, Heath.”
His smile stole her breath. Then he moved. Faster than she could track, he had her by the armpits and up in the air as he carried her toward the bedroom with such speed that her legs automatically wound around to clasp his rib cage. By the time she sucked in air to protest, her butt was on the bed, and he was flattening himself over her.
She struggled, her body on fire, fighting the urge to laugh out loud.
His mouth crushed hers, and she stilled.
Heat.
Fire.
True danger.
He held nothing back, kissing her hard, pressing her head into the comforter. His tongue worked hers, his powerful body plastered against hers, and his hands dug into her hair to hold her in place. Desire spun so quickly into need she couldn’t breathe, even when he wasn’t controlling her mouth.
She shifted against him, closing her eyes to kiss him back. This was what she’d wanted. All of this.
He nipped her lip, soothing the slight pain with another kiss. Then he traced along her jawline, kissing and nipping, finally reaching her earlobe, where he bit.
She arched against him, letting out a soft sigh.
“Anya.” His fingers tangled in her hair, and erotic pain tingled down her scalp. One of his strong arms slid around her waist and then down. His palm spread across her butt, and he ground her against his hard cock.
Pleasure swamped her, and mini explosions flew through her sex. The idea passed, somewhat fleetingly, that he wasn’t playing. Not at all.
Yet she couldn’t stop herself. Her knees widened, and she rubbed against him. “This feels real,” she whispered. 






DEADLY SILENCE, #1
LETHAL LIES, #2
TWISTED TRUTHS, #3




Rebecca Zanetti is the author of over twenty-five romantic suspense, dark paranormal, and contemporary romances, and her books have appeared multiple times on the New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestseller lists. She has received a Publisher's Weekly Starred Review for Wicked Edge, Romantic Times Reviewer Choice Nominations for Forgotten Sins and Sweet Revenge, and RT Top Picks for several of her novels. She lives in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest with her own alpha hero, two kids, a couple of dogs, a crazy cat...and a huge extended family. She believes strongly in luck, karma, and working her butt off...and she thinks one of the best things about being an author, unlike the lawyer she used to be, is that she can let the crazy out.


                           







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New Release + Giveaway + Review: Third Base by Heidi McLaughlin

Friday, April 7, 2017 0 comments
Third Base by  Heidi McLaughlin (The Boys of Summer, #1)
On Sale: April 4, 2017 Publisher: Forever

Ethan Davenport is already Boston’s most eligible bachelor. In his second season with the Boston Renegades he has set his eyes on the girl behind the visitors’ dugout.

That girl is Daisy Robinson, a journalism student at the University of Boston and a die-hard Renegades fan. But with new found love comes challenges and Ethan and Daisy have to deal with his crazy schedule, school finals and his presence on her campus for some much needed media training. 

For Ethan nothing can come between him and Daisy, until a secret that she’s been keeping threatens to destroy them both.


Ah, Ethan kind of reminded me of why I love sports romance so much. This isn't one of those series that using sports just to mention them and that's it. Third Base actually talks about the plays, describes the game and what a player feels when he is up to bat, it describes his observations and what is happening when he is out there doing his thing- it actually made me wish I was sitting next to his #1 Fan *winky face* but the way that he talked about it while he played made me feel like I was already there! Am I rambling? Can you tell it's been a while since I have been completely lost inside of a sports romance novel? It was so good! I can't wait for you guys to read it! I feel like I can't say too much without spoiling something about the novel but after reading Third Base, I have no doubt I will be diving into the next one as soon as possible!
*Disclaimer: A Review Copy was kindly was provided to Reads By Rose by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. My reviews will always remain truthful, unbiased and respectful.


Add the Boys Of Summer series to your TBR!


 I look at the scoreboard from the on-deck circle. It’s the bottom of the ninth with two outs. Unless we go on some miraculous run, the game is over and we’ve lost, giving us our second loss in a row.
The Orioles coach calls for a time-out and approaches the mound. This gives Meyers, our right fielder, the opportunity for us to talk. Actually, it gives me the ability to stare at the girl that has held my attention all night. After my home run, I thought I could focus on the game, but each time I came up to bat or went out to the field, I was looking to see if she was staring… and she was, which really stroked my ego.
I meet Meyers halfway between the on-deck circle and home plate. Usually, we’d stand back or talk to the third base coach, but there’s no coming back from this defeat. When I reach him, I can tell he’s frustrated; we all are. We’re a far better team than what our record shows. Even though it’s still very early, our expectations are much higher, and with the road trip coming up, we have got to get out of this funk, fast… before it’s too late.  
“This ump is calling shit.” Meyers kicks the dirt around his feet.
“Has been all night.” On any given night it’s either in your favor or not. Some umpires come into a game with a chip on their shoulder. They remember everything, and they don’t let you forget it. They say once the game is over, it’s over. Umpires don’t feel that way.
“Play ball!” the umpire yells.
Meyers goes back to home plate and settles in for what could be his last pitch. If he gets on base, I’m up. If he strikes out, my night is over. I rest my bat on my shoulder and watch - not Meyers, but the girl in the hat. She’s leaning forward, resting her elbows on the dugout. I had every intention of finding an usher during the seventh inning but lost my nerve. I don’t know how that’d be received if our manager was to find out, and short of going into the stands the second the game is over, I’m running out of options.  
It’s a swing and foul ball for Meyers, still giving me hope. The girl hasn’t moved, and something tells me that she’s focused on me. I should be focused on the game, but I’m not.
I lean over to the usher who stands by the field and whisper, “There’s a girl in section sixty-five, row c, seat one. I’d like to talk to her after the game.”
He nods and says something into his really cool CIA walkie-talkie-type thing. When I first arrived, I asked if I could play with it. I was told no. It was a total buzz kill. I asked my agent to get me one, and he told me to grow up… not one of my finer moments.
Meyers goes down swinging and just like that, the game’s over. We lost three to eight. I wait for him to walk by before returning to the dugout, but not without one last look at the girl in row c.  Another usher is walking down the aisle toward her. I climb down the stairs and pause where she can’t see me. The usher approaches her and talks wildly with his hands. She looks around, reaches for her bag, and follows him up the steps. I can only hope she’ll be in the lounge when I get there.
Right now I’m thankful I’m not allowed to give interviews yet because it means I can shower and get upstairs quicker. The reporters call my name, asking about my home-run. They know I’m not allowed to speak with them, but they try anyway. I keep my head down, my classic move after we’ve lost, and rush into the clubhouse. There will be no after-game meeting; our manager will save that for tomorrow.
I shower quickly and slip into jeans and a t-shirt. My hair is still wet and dripping down onto my shirt, but I don’t want my third base girl waiting too long. I take the back stairs two at a time and enter the lounge. This is where the wives and girlfriends hang out, and now that I think about it, it’s probably not the best place to have sent her. It’s like vulture prey in here for new girlfriends… not that she’s my girlfriend. I just want to know her name.
As soon as I enter the hallway, I find her sitting outside the door. She stands up when she hears me coming and keeps her hands behind her back, watching me closely. I come to a halt in front of her, and all I can see is the top of her hat. She’s about a foot shorter than me, and I like that.
“I wanted to apologize for giving you the ball.” I keep my hands clasped to avoid the nervous twitch I have. The last thing I want to do is scare her away.
“Oh… do you want it back?” Her voice is soft, sweet, and completely Boston. Hearing her speak makes me feel like I have something to look forward to, like I’m home.
“What? No, I thought I embarrassed you… It’s just…”
My knees go weak when she looks at me. Her light green eyes are the color of sea glass, and she has a dimple that compliments her smile. I find myself wanting to rub my thumb over it so I can feel it.
“You didn’t embarrass me. It was nice.”
“What’s your name?” I ask, needing to know because calling her ‘third base girl’ or ‘girl in row c’ isn’t going to cut it.
“Daisy.”
Daisy, I repeat in my head so I don’t forget. Daisy… like the flowers that my mother loves.
“I’m Ethan,” I stupidly tell her but feel like I should introduce myself. “Wanna get out of here and grab some dinner?”
She eyes me and then the ground, making me wait what feels like an eternity for her answer.
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Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont with her husband and two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper Beagle/Jack Russell, Buttercup and a Highland West/Mini Schnauzer, Jill.

When she isn't writing one of the many stories planned for release, you'll find her sitting courtside during either daughter's basketball games.





Cover Reveal: Checkmate Boxed Set Duet by Kennedy Fox

Friday, March 31, 2017 0 comments


Title: Checkmate Boxed Set  by  Kennedy Fox
Series: Checkmate Duet (Travis / Viola)
Titles Included: Checkmate This is War / Checkmate: This is Love 
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
Trope: Enemies to Lovers 
Photographer / Designer: Sara Eirew 
Release Date: April 5, 2017



Travis King is the worst kind of asshole with good looks and enough confidence to last two lifetimes.
Viola Fisher is a goodie two shoes know-it-all who prefers fictional love stories over her own.
The only thing they have in common is their mutual hatred for each other.

She’s had a secret crush on him since she was ten but Travis has always made it very clear the feelings aren’t mutual. He’s cruel, crass and takes every opportunity to get under Viola’s skin. She’s smart, beautiful, and too good to be true. Hating him is her religion but needing her is his.

Although Viola loathes his very existence, against her better judgment she let him into her bed. Her sexy curves and filthy smart mouth make Travis want her even more and although she’s succumbed to his manwhore ways, she’s determined to not let that change a thing. 


Too bad he has other plans. 

Viola’s always been off-limits, but Travis is determined to keep crossing that line. She can try to push him away, but he always gets what he wants and he’ll do anything to prove he’s done playing games.

Until then, they’ll play by their own rules to see who will win the biggest battle yet—love or hate?

Checkmate.



*Recommend for ages 18+ due to sexual content and adult language.* 



     Watching Viola’s cheeks turn bright red gives me a thrill every time. She’s easy to rile up, even easier to embarrass. She pretends to hate me, but let’s be honest, there’s hardly anything about me worth hating. Even when she was just ten years old and we’d just met, I could make her blush without even speaking.

     I work out every chance I get, eat right, and work my ass off both in and out of the gym. When I’m not working out or at my job, I enjoy other types of recreation.

     Currently her name is Rachel and she’s basically salivating at the mouth as she waits for me to give her what she’s begging for.

     I give in, of course.

     I’m a guy after all.

     When we’re both sated and panting next to each other, I clean up and pull my boxer shorts back up. She curls her body around mine and places a quick kiss on my shoulder. “Are you kicking me out now?” I look over my shoulder and give her a sympathetic grin. “Sorry, babe. No sleepovers.”

     That’s not entirely a rule set in stone, but I prefer to sleep alone. Especially if there’s no chance of morning sex the next day. I get up at five a.m. and head to the gym before I have to be to work at eight.

     “All right.” She gets up and searches for her clothes. Once she’s dressed, she grabs her purse and walks over for a goodbye kiss. “Call me later.”

     “Sure.” I escort her out of the house and kiss her once more before shutting the door. I spin around and nearly run over Viola as she passes in the hall.

     “Aw…another victim released. How sweet of you.”

     “They aren’t victims if they’re willing,” I retort matter-of-factly.

     “Well, they’re airheads if they are.” She continues walking to the kitchen and reluctantly I follow.

     “You sure sound pretty envious.”

     “It’s not. It’s pity. There’s a difference.” She opens the fridge and reaches for a bottle of water.

     “Trust me…she’s not feeling any amount of pity right about now.” I lean up against the doorframe and watch her take a long drink.

     “If not pity, then definitely regret. Or perhaps she’s wondering where the nearest clinic is so she can get tested.” She takes another pull of her water and ignores my glare.

     “Just because a woman likes sex, doesn’t make her an airhead. But you wouldn’t know that would you? Not when you keep your V-card hostage like it’s a million-dollar diamond.”

     “For the hundredth time, I’m not a virgin!” she retorts sharply. “Just because I don’t spread my legs as much as a gymnast, doesn’t mean I’m a prude.”

      “Well it sure as hell doesn’t make you a delight.”

     She tosses the bottle out and steps toward me, shoving her shoulder against me as she walks past. “Knowing how to use your dick doesn’t make you a god, Travis.”

     I spin around and face her as she walks away. “You speak as if you know from experience.”

     “Trust me. The walls are thin. The entire neighborhood knows from experience,” she calls over her shoulder.

     “So are you saying I should be sorry for knowing how to use my dick?”

     She freezes and turns toward me. “No, you should be sorry for anyone that falls for your shit that gets them into your bed in the first place.” She presses her lips together in a fake smile and walks down the hall and back to where Drew is still playing his game.

     I don’t know what her problem is, but I’m determined to find out.

 It’s already ten o’clock, and I have a long day at the office tomorrow, but I can’t get Viola off my mind long enough to fall asleep.

     This never happens by the way.

     Okay, well, maybe it does. Only when she gets under my skin, which happens to be all the damn time.

     But you can’t blame me. She’s always perfect and proper, never wrong and always knows the answer to everything. She’s that annoying smart kid in class that always fucks up the grading curve for everyone else. The one that wears modest clothes but somehow always ends up looking sexy as fuck.

     On the outside, Viola Fisher is the poster child of innocence and purity. But I know better.

     Viola Fisher has tattoos and a right hook that could make any grown man cry.


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Giveaway link: http://bit.ly/2nP3g5t

 A secret duo of romance authors team up under the USA Today Bestselling pseudonym, Kennedy Fox who share a love of You’ve Got Mail and The Holiday. When they aren’t bonding over romantic comedies, they like to brainstorm new book ideas. One day, they decided to collaborate and have some fun creating new characters that’ll make your lady bits tingle and your heart melt. If you enjoy romance stories with sexy, tattooed alpha males and smart, independent women, then a Kennedy Fox book is for you!


New Release: Too Wild To Tame by Tessa Bailey

Thursday, February 2, 2017 0 comments
 
Too Wild To Tame by Tessa Bailey (Romancing The Clarksons #2) 
Sometimes you just can't resist playing with fire…
By day, Aaron Clarkson suits up, shakes hands, and acts the perfect gentleman. But at night, behind bedroom doors, the tie comes off and the real Aaron comes out to play. Mixing business with pleasure got him fired, so Aaron knows that if he wants to work for the country's most powerful senator, he'll have to keep his eye on the prize. That's easier said than done when he meets the senator's daughter, who's wild, gorgeous, and 100 percent trouble.
Grace Pendleton is the black sheep of her conservative family. Yet while Aaron's presence reminds her of a past she'd rather forget, something in his eyes keeps drawing her in. Maybe it's the way his voice turns her molten. Or maybe it's because deep down inside, the ultra-smooth, polished Aaron Clarkson might be more than even Grace can handle…

 

Amazon: Kindle / Paperback

TOO HOT TO HANDLE, #1
TOO WILD TO TAME, #2
TOO HARD TO FORGET, #3
His progress toward the door halted when Grace shot to her feet, arms stiff at her sides, those green eyes like glowing jade moons. “I…that isn’t what I was asking for. I just meant, let me help you, in general. I—I didn’t think…”
Aaron’s neck heated. “If you don’t like the idea, we can change it—”
She jumped. She actually jumped straight up in the air, hands flying to her cheeks. “I love it. Oh, please don’t change anything. I was just so surprised.”
He inclined his head, mentally cursing the way his heart decided to make its presence known at such an inconvenient time, walloping his rib cage with thick booms, courtesy of Grace’s pleasure. How juvenile. “I’m kind of surprised myself,” he admitted, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
At least until Grace floated toward him. All shining eyes and rosy excitement, she spurred a lust storm in his stomach. “It’s so much better when you say what you’re thinking, Aaron.”
“You mentioned that.”
And of course, it made him want to say more. Say whatever it would take to get her legs wrapped around his hips. To rock between her thighs until her wetness drenched the fly of his pants. “Get away from me, Grace,” he rasped. “It would be just like me to take advantage of you after having to tell that story.”
Silence deepened around them. “How can you say that after you just found a way for me to rebuild the camp?” It seemed as if her entire body lifted and fell on a harsh sob. “Last night, you asked me if I still saw some good in you…and I didn’t answer. How could I not have answered you?” She shook her gorgeous head. “I didn’t mean to—”
Aaron shot forward, capturing her unspoken words with his own mouth. Guilt. There had been even more guilt in her eyes. Aaron’s response was pure denial. Not because of me. Not over me. But as soon as their lips joined, his mind wiped clean of anything but Grace’s one-of-a-kind taste. She was juicy, sweet, refreshing, intoxicating madness. He let it pull him down into its depths—her depths—gathering up her taste greedily so he could live with the effect as long as possible, even though surely a man couldn’t withstand this type of arousal for an extended length of time. He’d want to fuck her again as soon as he came. It was a certainty his body was all too eager to confirm. Yet protectiveness held him in a state of limbo. Wanting—needing—to mate with her delicious body while determined to protect her from himself.
Couldn’t she sense the past meaningless encounters he wore like gloves, cheapening everything he touched? Couldn’t she sense his inability to be meaningful to her? Grace should have someone with substance, not someone who couldn’t even garner the love of his own family. Someone who considered the ramifications of his actions and how they would serve as betrayal. This is how you repay me?
The voice from his not-so-distant past had Aaron tearing his mouth away with a guttural growl, clasping Grace by the shoulders. Too hard. Ease up. “Get away.”
“If you really want that, let me go,” she whispered.
God, he couldn’t do it. Not with her face tipped back, lips swollen and shined up, those eyelids halfway fallen. He’d never in his life had trouble resisting sex. It was always a logical decision based on his needs. This? There was nothing cut and dried about it. His attraction to Grace was messy and wild and untapped. Made his chest expand with the effort to contain the expanding of something unfamiliar. Crazy and blinding. His dick needed a good, rough handling from one woman only. Grace. And she wasn’t pushing him away. Seemed like she wanted the job, too, her tits sliding up and down his abs with every breath. Give her one more chance. Show her what she’s in for with a bastard like you. With a muttered epithet, Aaron raked his hand up the back of Grace’s thigh, sliding it down the back of her tights, and settling his middle finger in the valley of her ass. “Get away from me,” he managed, wedging his straying digit a little more securely, earning him a closed-lipped noise.
“No,” she gasped after a few seconds.
Aaron’s tether broke. Recapturing Grace’s mouth with an obscene amount of tongue, he backed them toward the bed, satisfaction rippling in his middle when she went down beneath him, her legs falling open in welcome. He draped his body over Grace’s slighter one, eager grunts leaving his mouth as he positioned himself over her pussy and bore down with his erection. Their groans were pain-filled, reaching every corner of the cabin, breaking off when Aaron got back to kissing that addictive mouth, yanking the oversized sweater up, up to her belly, so he could rock against her sex with only his pants and her tights as obstructions.
Aaron.”
“You were warned,” he reminded her with a strangled shout, delivered into the space above her head. “Three times, Grace. That’s three times more than I’d give anyone else.” He slid up and back in the cradle of her legs, groaning over the rasping friction her tights delivered to his stiff, fuck-hungry dick. “Make it four times. I gave you an out back at the house. You should have taken it.”
When Grace should have been trembling or alarmed by the cut steel in his voice, she only stretched out beneath him like a cat, opening up for him. Almost preening beneath his rough ministrations. “Maybe I should have. But we’re here now, so stop trying to scare me.” Her fingertips moved down Aaron’s chest to the seat of his pants, where she smoothed her palm over the curve of his cock, which started him panting like a marathon runner. “You don’t really want to scare me, do you, Aaron?”
Christ, her soft words, the sight of her, were choking him up. Her hair was a haphazard display framing her face, those crooked front teeth somehow making him twice as eager to seal their mouths together again. He was a hunter who’d discovered a sprite dancing in the woods and dragged her home, intending to use her body for vigorous relief, but got forgiveness in return. “No, I don’t. I don’t want to scare you.”
“I know,” she breathed, unfastening his belt buckle. “I just know.” 



Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans, and laptop, and drove cross-country to New York City in under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend, and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.

She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband and daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.





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