Excerpt Reveal: The First Taste by Jessica Hawkins

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The First Taste by Jessica Hawkins

Series: Slip of the Tongue #2
Release Date: August 4th, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Synopsis:

Andrew Beckwith has already devoted his life to one girl—and as far as he’s concerned, she’s all he needs. The rough-around-the-edges bad boy left his reckless ways behind six years ago when his daughter Bell was born. To the female population’s dismay, he’s unapologetically single. When Bell’s mother walked out on them years ago, he vowed never to let another woman close enough to hurt them again.

Amelia Van Ecken isn’t just another woman. She’s an independent, smart, and savvy businesswoman who doesn’t have time for sex, much less love. In the midst of a drawn-out, bitter divorce, all she wants is to bury herself in work. But when sharp-tongued Amelia and stubborn Andrew cross paths, sparks fly—and burn. Two things are obvious in an instant: they want each other, and they’re from different worlds. It’s the perfect formula for an off-the-charts one-night stand. After all, it’s not as if opposites ever attract.

The First Taste, a standalone spin-off of the Slip of the Tongue.

 

Excerpt:

 

“What’re your plans tonight?”

She scoffs. “It’s Friday night. What aren’t my plans? I have drinks with friends in an hour, then a late dinner, and who knows after that.”

“Cancel them.”

She gapes at me. “Cancel my plans? Why would I?”

“Come out with me. Sadie says there’s a place around here with great pizza.”

She laughs, tilting her head and exposing the smooth column of her throat. “First, I don’t eat carbs, so there’s no way you’re getting me to do anything with the promise of pizza. Second, I just told you—I don’t date.”

“And neither do I.”

“Then why are you asking me out?” she asks.

“Because despite what you may think, I am a gentleman, and it’s only good manners to buy you dinner first.”

“First?” she asks, wrinkling her nose. “What’s second?”

We stare at each other. I let her figure it out on her own. It’s rare to meet a woman like me, someone who truly has no interest in finding a partner. I’ve heard that claim from enough girls to know when they’re bullshitting me, and unless Amelia is a Grade-A con artist, she definitely isn’t looking to get serious.

When she understands, the wrinkles on her forehead ease, and she parts her lips. I answer with a knowing smile. Suggesting sex within half an hour of meeting someone might normally get me slapped, but I get the feeling Amelia appreciates a more direct approach.

“I don’t date,” I say, “but I’m still a man with eyes.”

She makes no secret of looking me up and down. “You’re not my type either,” she warns. “I like men who carry a briefcase and see a barber regularly.”

I run my hand through my black hair, which I know is too long. “How’s that working out for you?”

She narrows her eyes. “Fine. Perfect.”

“I have some tattoos too,” I say. “And ride a motorcycle. Since that’s normally how I get most girls, I suppose those are turn-offs for you.”

“They are,” she says immediately, straightening her shoulders. “I’ve never understood the appeal of a bad boy.”

“Then tonight, we’re a match made in heaven, aren’t we? It shouldn’t be hard for either of us to say goodbye afterward.”

She bats her eyelashes a few times, not because she’s flirting but because she’s thinking. Considering. Which means it’s basically a done deal. I’ve never gotten this far with a girl only to have her walk away. “Why even bother with dinner?” she asks.

I take a moment to study her, her shoulder-length, perfectly coifed blonde hair. Her defined red lips that look like a heart when pursed, which is often. Yeah, based on the fact that I’m noticing details—something I try not to do anymore—I know I’m feeling her tonight. Most guys would jump at the opportunity to skip the small talk, but that doesn’t really appeal to me. I like women, always have. Just because Shana fucked me in the head doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate them. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend time around them—just so long’s it’s surface stuff.

I don’t want to scare her off by suggesting I might want to have a conversation with her, so I just shrug. “Because I’m starving.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Indulge me then. I need my energy.”

“For what?” she asks.

I arch an eyebrow at her. I’ll definitely need my energy for a night with her.

She reads my expression and her cheeks redden. “Oh.”

 

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About the Author

Jessica Hawkins grew up between the purple mountains and under the endless sun of Palm Springs, California. She studied international business at Arizona State University and has also lived in Costa Rica and New York City. To her, the most intriguing fiction is forbidden, and that’s what you’ll find in her stories. Currently, she resides wherever her head lands, which is often the unexpected (but warm) keyboard of her trusty MacBook.

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Release Blitz + Excerpt + 5 Star Review: Burn by Elisabeth Grace – The Duplicity Duet – Book 2

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burn now available

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Burn

Duplicity Duet – Book 2

By Elisabeth Grace

Buy: Amazon / Amazon UK / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

Synopsis

The stunning conclusion to the Duplicity Duet from USA Today Bestselling Author Elisabeth Grace.

“No”

One word.
Two letters.

But those two letters changed everything.

It was impossible to predict the impact I would have on the life of the only woman I’d ever truly loved. No way to know that I would result in her ruin.
I’d suffer for eternity with the knowledge that it was me who brought devastation to her doorstep.

Though I deserved the anguish I felt, to see her suffer was unacceptable.

I would fix this.

Somehow I would prove to her that I wasn’t the monster she thought I was.

Even if it meant becoming a monster in order to make that happen.

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Excerpt

Then the door swung open and there he was. For a brief moment I was taken by his handsome features—his olive skin and pronounced jaw, the sparkle in his dark eyes, his perfect, straight nose. More than anything, it was the pull that remained between us that surprised me. Like I was a planet still circling his sun.

There was a moment when we locked eyes that the gravity of all that had happened wasn’t weighing heavy between us, and it almost caused me to stumble back.

Then, after the moment of intimacy had passed, I was sure I saw dread slip over his expression. I wasn’t going to stay put and find out though.

I wouldn’t be standing on his doorstep begging for whatever scraps of information he deemed worthy of casting my way. No, I was here to demand what he, at the very least, owed me, and I wouldn’t leave until he gave it to me.

“We need to talk.” I pushed past him, careful not to make contact, and bolted down the hallway toward the living room.

“Emily, this isn’t a good time.” Marco’s footsteps followed quickly behind me.

“I don’t care. Put aside whatever it is you’re doing. I want answers.”

I came to an abrupt stop when I stepped into the living/dining area and found Alexa sprawled across the couch like she was a feast ready to be enjoyed.

Her blouse was half unbuttoned, her legs draped over the cushions, causing her skirt to ride up a bit on her thighs, and her lips slightly swollen. Her lipstick had been rubbed off her mouth and onto her skin. She wore a saccharine smile that I wanted to rip off her face.

I crossed my arms over my chest and turned back to Marco. “Oh, I see. Well, pardon me for interrupting.” There was no disguising the venom in my voice.

His tortured gazed darted from me to her and back a few times before he schooled his features and responded. “Can we have this conversation some other time?” he asked, his voice neutral.

“Marco, who’s this?” Alexa purred from behind me.

I spun to address her with a fake smile on my face. “I’m Emily. We met at the art show a few months ago when I was there with Marco. Back when we were still fucking. You can call me Brandi, though.” I turned to lock gazes with him before finishing. “Everyone who knows me intimately does.”

His fists clenched at his sides and his jaw tightened. Good. Some small part of me was pleased that I was still able to elicit a reaction like that from him.

I swung my attention back to the blonde on the couch. “I’m sorry to swing by unannounced like this and interrupt what was obviously going to be a good time for you both. I just need a few minutes with Marco, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Alexa’s eyes narrowed on me for a moment, and though she was playing nice with me—probably for Marco’s benefit—it was clear she wasn’t pleased with the interruption.

“Perhaps I should go,” she said.

“No!” Marco said, whip fast. “Emily should be the one to leave.”

Not going to lie.

That stung.

A lot.

No matter that everything between Marco and I had been based on lies, the fact that I was so easily tossed aside smarted.

“I’m not going anywhere until we speak.” I leveled him with a gaze that told him I was serious.

“Why don’t you use my bathroom to freshen up, Alexa? It’s that way through my bedroom.” He pointed toward the room that we’d spent many a night in. “I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

A victorious smile crept across her face, and her gaze swung to me as she rose from the couch. She brushed her fingers across Marco’s chest as she passed him. “Don’t be too long.”

He nodded but didn’t spare her a glance as she passed, his gaze still fixed on me.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, I spoke. “Sorry to interrupt your play time, Marco, but you owe me some answers and I’m ready to collect.”

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Haven’t met Marco Valenti yet, Now is your chance!

Hook (Book One)

 

 

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Hook 

The Duplicity Duet – Book 1

Buy : Amazon / Amazon UK / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

Synopsis

Women loathed me without even knowing my name. Men coveted the very idea of me.

Escort. Call girl. Prostitute. Hooker. Whore.

I’d heard it all. Done it all.

Over the years I’d felt a lot of things about my occupation…but not regret–never regret. I had my reasons for doing what I did and nothing and no one had ever made me question them.

UNTIL MARCO VALENTI.

He’d changed me and I’d naively fed into the fairy tale.

But Marco wasn’t my Prince Charming.

He had secrets of his own.

Secrets that would eventually rip away everything I held dear.

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5Star

Michel’s Review

The Duplicity Duet by Elisabeth Grace has cranked up to the heat with the final book, Burn.  It was an intense and smoldering conclusion in this erotic romantic suspense duet.

Hook ended with a cliffhanger.  High class Vegas call girl Brandi has fallen in love with her client Marco Valenti.  Marco is a secretive and mysterious man that seems to have ties with the mafia.  As their relationship begins to grow, Brandi is finally letting her guard down and allowing Marco into her real world.  She is a mother of a special needs child.  The responsibilities and medical care for a special needs child forced her to become a high class call girl.  Her real name is Emily.

Marco’s secret business dealings have put Emily and her son in danger.  They are forced to move in with Marco until he can take the necessary actions to eliminate the danger. His enemies strike before Marco has a chance.  They have kidnapped Emily’s son.  It soon becomes apparent that her son is dead.

Emily wants revenge on both Marco and the people that killed her son.  She will do anything to extract that revenge.  It’s a very dangerous vendetta and could cost her life. She has nothing left to live for.  Her son is dead and the only man she loved and trusted betrayed her.

Marco is also out for revenge.  He will bring down the man that killed Emily’s son.  He will bring down his empire.  His actions caused him to lose Emily and the chance of having a real family.

Burn was a powerful conclusion.  I could not put this book down.

Elisabeth Grace has delivered an erotic thriller that will leave the readers hooked and burned.

 

______________________________

elisabeth graceUSA Today Bestselling author, Elisabeth Grace, has a soft spot for romance novels with happily ever afters and a hot spot for alpha males! She currently lives outside Toronto, Canada with her hubby and two small children. Life is busy, but never to busy for a good story and to share her love of reading and writing with others.

 

 

Connect with Elisabeth Grace

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Google+ | Instagram

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Excerpt Reveal: Midnight Soul by Kristen Ashley – Fantasyland Series – Book 5

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MIDNIGHT SOUL is coming! Being released on August 15th, this amazing fantasy takes place in our world and a parallel universe where fantasies are true…but perhaps not all you would expect. MIDNIGHT SOUL is the highly anticipated finale to Kristen Ashley’s bestselling Fantasyland Series. As a special treat the first books in the series are on sale for a limited time only, including the first book in the series, WILDEST DREAMS, for just $.99! Pre-order this amazing novel today, and be sure to check out the exclusive excerpt below!

 

 

Franka

“You need to leave,” I declared.

His brows drew together a moment before his expression showed clearly that comprehension had dawned.

Sadly, comprehension might have dawned but he didn’t leave.

He crouched by the bed and offered in a soft voice, “You need me to carry you to the other room so you can have a bit of privacy?”

Dear goddess.

He thought I needed a chamber pot.

But…

What was happening to my face?

Dear goddess!

The heat I felt in my cheeks could be nothing other than me blushing.

I didn’t blush. I’d never blushed. Not even when I’d set about seducing my first lover at age sixteen.

I needed to be quit of this man as soon as possible.

“No…I…do…not,” I bit out.

“Sure?” he asked kindly.

“I need you to leave, Noctorno,” I used his full name in an effort to irritate, something that worked if the flare in his eyes was any indication, “so Josette can prepare me. We’re away to Kristian’s this morning.”

Another drawing of his brows before he asked, “What?”

“After my toilette, Josette and I are to my sleigh so we can begin our journey to my brother’s home.”

His eyes got bigger as his mouth inquired peculiarly, “Are you high?”

“No,” I answered his ridiculous question unnecessarily, “Indeed, I’m low. As you can see since I’m lying abed.”

For a second he just stared at me.

Then he threw his head back and burst into loud, deep, beautiful laughter.

I wanted to throw something at him.

Unfortunately, in my current position, this was not an option open to me.

“I fail to see what’s amusing,” I noted.

He controlled his mirth only to mutter, “I’ll explain it later.” He went on more distinctly, “Frannie, you’re not goin’ to your brother’s today. Or tomorrow. Or until you’re fit. Then, maybe Valentine will spirit you there, or whatever the fuck that’s called. But for the foreseeable future, your ass is in that bed and you’re resting so you can heal.”

Well!

Who did he think he was, telling me what I would or would not do?

“As you’ve determined,” I began, “this is not the first time I’ve been in this condition so I do believe that I know best what I’m capable of and…”

I stopped speaking because he came slightly out of his crouch so he could put his face into my face and he was no longer looking mirthful.

He was looking angry.

Very angry.

“That was when you had no one lookin’ out for you but that’s not the case anymore. So this is how it’s gonna be,” he announced.

He then, to my shock, irritation and outrage, announced how it was going to be.

Like he had the right to tell me how it was going to be!

 

 

Midnight Soul - cover

Against his will, Noctorno Hawthorne, an undercover vice cop, finds himself embroiled in magic, mayhem and parallel universes. Too late, he meets an amazing woman only to find she’s destined for his identical twin in another world.

And things aren’t going real great there.

Noc is recruited to help save that world.

What he doesn’t know is his destined love resides there.

FrankaDrakkar wears a mask. A mask she never takes off to protect herself in a world of malice, intrigue and danger.

When Franka meets Noc and he discovers her secrets, convinced she carries a midnight soul, having shielded herself from forming bonds with anyone, she struggles with accepting his tenderness and care.

When Noc meets Franka, over wine and whiskey, her mask slips and Noc knows it’s her—only her—and he has to find a way to get her to come home with him.

And then make her want to stay.

 

Preorder MIDNIGHT SOUL here!

Amazon * Barnes and Noble * GooglePlay * iBooks* Kobo

Add it to your Goodreads Now!

 

 

Fantasyland Series Sale

And Don’t Miss the First Books in the Fantasyland Series-On Sale Now!

WILDEST DREAMS

THE GOLDEN DYNASTY

FANTASTICAL

BROKEN DOVE

 

Kristin Ashley - headshotAbout Kristen Ashley:

Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA and nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorise and she hadn’t taken her first breath!). Her mother said they took Kristen away, put her Mom back in her room, her mother looked out the window, and Gary was on fire (Dr. King had been assassinated four days before). Kristen’s Mom remembered thinking it was the end of the world. Quite the dramatic beginning.

Nothing’s changed.

Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana and has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus, she’s blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her family was (is) loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. They all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).

Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.

And as she keeps growing, it keeps getting better.

 

WEBSITE * FACEBOOK * TWITTER * NEWSLETTER * GOODREADS * PINTEREST * INSTAGRAM

 

 

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Pre Release + Excerpt + 5 Star Review: The Matchmaker’s Replacement by Rachel Van Dyken – Wingman Series – Book 2

The Matchmaker's Replacement Banner - Aug 9

 

 

 

VanDyken-TheMatchmakersReplacement-CV-FL-vC6-RGBWingman rule number two: never reveal how much you want them.

Lex hates Gabi. Gabi hates Lex. But, hey, at least the hate is mutual, right? All Lex has to do is survive the next few weeks training Gabi in all the ways of Wingmen Inc. and then he can be done with her. But now that they have to work together, the sexual tension and fighting is off the charts. He isn’t sure if he wants to strangle her or throw her against the nearest sturdy table and have his way with her.

But Gabi has a secret, something she’s keeping from not just her best friend but her nemesis too. Lines are blurred as Lex becomes less the villain she’s always painted him to be…and starts turning into something more. Gabi has always hated the way she’s been just a little bit attracted to him—no computer-science major should have that nice of a body or look that good in glasses—but “Lex Luthor” is an evil womanizer. He’s dangerous. Gabi should stay far, far away.

Then again, she’s always wanted a little danger.

Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU

 

TAKE A LOOK AT THE EPIC COVER HERE

 

 

I hated him.

HATED him.

Hate, hate, hate. I chanted the words to myself that very next morning as I stomped toward his ridiculously expensive house, next to the ridiculously nice lake, with his ridiculously loud red Mercedes parked out front. Jackass.

I’d be doing society a favor if I set it on fire.

Seriously.

The thing was probably filled with so much bodily fluid and disease that if he got in a car accident he’d infect the entire freeway and start a citywide epidemic.

I shuddered.

I compartmentalized Lex into two boxes.

The first box was Childhood Lex, the friend who used to hang out with Ian and me before he moved across town, never to be seen again. He used to ride with me to school, and when I was sick he gave me my own box of Kleenex—never mind that he stole it from his teacher’s desk. The point is, Childhood Lex was a keeper.

Box number two?

Asshole Lex, also known as the version I was walking toward. The Lex I met when I was eighteen, who momentarily stunned me speechless with his godlike beauty, had been a figment of my overactive, sad, hormone-riddled imagination.

On the outside? The perfect man.

With a brooding and sultry smile.

Biceps the size of my head.

Who gave me the distinct feeling that if I ran my hands over his buzzed hair I’d orgasm before he even touched me.

Whatever. I was over it. So over it.

A lot of people had stupid crushes when they were eighteen, right?

Now all I saw when I looked into his stormy blue eyes was syph or the clap, and that was being generous. The dude was a walking STD and seriously tried every nerve I had. He was an ass. Plain and simple, no sugar coating. He was the type of guy who’d tell a chick that she looked fat in a dress or who refused to share the communal breadbasket. See! He couldn’t even adhere to typical manners during mealtime! Just thinking about him had me tied up in knots.

Last year, when I went shopping and stupidly invited Ian along—which of course meant Lex had to come—I was told in no uncertain terms that if I would just stop drinking chocolate milk in the morning I’d be able to fit into a smaller size.

He’d smiled.

His dimples had deepened.

He’d even crossed his arms as if to say, Look, I did you a favor, pat me on the back.

Instead I had kicked him in the balls and tried to give him a black eye, clocking Ian in the face.

My point? Lex. Was. The. Devil.

I made a point of only hanging out with Lex when absolutely necessary, and even then I almost always had Ian as a buffer. But now that he was playing love nest with my ex-roomie, Blake? Well, I was on my own.

Lex opened the door after my third aggressive knock. Black sweatpants hung low on his hips, a vintage Mariners shirt fell open around his neck, and he was wearing black-framed glasses that made his eyes more appealing than should be legal.

“Sunshine,” he said, his smirk deepening as he crossed his burly arms over his chest.

“Dickhead.” I smiled sweetly. “New glasses? They look thicker than last time.”

“Better to see you with.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “There they are.” He reached for one of my boobs.

I slapped his hand away so hard my palm stung.

“Probably not the best way to treat your new male clients.” He shook his hand and turned towards the living room leaving the door wide open. Manners were completely lost on him.

Gritting my teeth, I slammed the door behind me and took off my shoes because I knew if I didn’t he’d give me hell.

He was a freak like that.

For as much ass as he got, it was shocking how much Lysol he used around the house. His clothes were never wrinkled; everything was pristine.

Even his breath.

Damn him.

He drank coffee like a Starbucks employee but never had coffee breath.

It was almost painful, staring him in the face, knowing that everything on the outside appeared perfect—but didn’t match the inside at all, not even close!

Beauty like Lex’s was dangerous and wickedly tempting, like something out of a paranormal romance novel. Sometimes, at night, when I dreamed of Lex getting hit by a car, I imagined him as a vampire roaming the streets in his favorite black sweats, shirtless, shimmering under the streetlights, just waiting for whores to line up so he could take a few bites.

A pencil flew by my head.

“Yo.” Lex’s eyebrows shot up. “We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to get you ready for the next two clients. Daydream about chicks on your own time.”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

He bit on his bottom lip, sinking back in his chair as his eyes slowly roamed from my mismatched socks all the way up to my head. “Okay, whatever you say, Gabs.”

I will not commit homicide. I will not commit homicide. “You know,” I said as I tossed my purse onto the table, “it’s offensive that you assume all lesbians dress like crap.” So what? I was wearing a ratty white T-shirt and ripped jeans, and I was pretty sure I still had mascara on from the night before. It was my Lex repellant. He hated sloppiness.

“Offensive.” He nodded. “Also true . . .” He used the spare pencil from behind his ear to slide my purse over to the farthest side of the table. “It wouldn’t kill you to wear something other than jeans and T-shirts, Gabs.” He sighed. “Say it with me: dresssss—”

I grabbed the pencil from his hand, broke it into two pieces, and handed them back to him. “I wear dresses, just not for you. Dresses are your kryptonite, especially short black ones. I refuse to be a part of your ‘shower time.’”

He snorted. “You wish.”

“Yes. Every night when I go to sleep I pray for Lex to dream of me while he jerks off because yet another girl refused to follow his instructions in bed : ‘Damn it, use the manual!’” I said, using my best imitation of Lex’s voice. I’d only heard him shout instructions to a girl once, and it had scarred me for life. What the hell are you doing? Do I look like I’m satisfied? There’s a diagram! Ugh.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Very funny, and the manual is there for a reason. Do you even know how many chicks get confused when I call out sexual positions? It’s like, get there faster, you know?”

My feelings were torn between fascination and disgust. “So,” I changed the subject. “Let’s train, because I have about ten years worth of Organic Chem homework.”

Lex sighed and held out his hand.

“No.” I crossed my arms. “I don’t need help.”

Okay, I needed help, desperately needed help, and Lex wasn’t just passably smart but a certified genius, at least when he applied himself. I refused to ask him to go over my homework just because Organic Chem was, to me, like reading a foreign language.

He cleared his throat.

I didn’t move.

Finally, he stood, slowly walked over to the end of the table, and fished the chem book from my oversized purse. “What chapter?”

“Lex—”

“If I’m teaching you Organic Chem, at least say Professor Lex.”

“Listen very closely, Lex.” I went over and jerked my book out of his hands. “I didn’t need your help last year when I almost failed biology, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now. Let’s just get this training done so I can go home and suffer in silence, alright?”

“Fine.” He dropped my book against the table and then, without warning, grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me against the counter that bordered the kitchen. My butt hit the cupboard . “Up until now we’ve been helping people find their perfect match. Basically acting like a wingman so that the idiots of this world see the girl who’s been standing in front of them all along .”

Why was he standing so close? Did we have to be touching? I told my body not to respond to his proximity, but Lex was magnetic, even if every part of him was evil. My brain was having trouble functioning while his large palms were pressed into the tops of my shoulders.

“Okay.” I swallowed. “And now that you’re allowing guys to become clients of Wingmen Inc., I basically do the same thing. Give them confidence, help them capture the one girl who’s always seen them as the friend—or worse, who they’ve been invisible to.”

“What’s that like, I wonder?” Lex still didn’t release me. “Being invisible . . . Maybe next time a dude ignores you, take notes.”

And another insult.

“Lex.” I huffed out a breath. “Just get on with it.”

“Right.” His eyes momentarily locked on mine before he rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses were perched. It was not sexy. It wasn’t. Really. That. Sexy. “So whenever we take on a new client, we give them a list of questions, meet them in a public place, and then use the power of human emotions like jealousy and curiosity to get the other person interested. That’s where you come in. If another girl sees our client as desirable, he becomes desirable.”

“That easy?”

“Sort of.” Lex leaned forward. “But you can’t suck.”

“Suck?”

“At anything.” His lips hovered near my mouth. He was starting to freak me out. I wanted to run away, but I was pinned.

“Lex, if you kiss me I will bite your tongue off. I swear.”

“If I was actually kissing you”—Lex released one of my shoulders and placed a finger against my mouth—“you’d know it. This, my frumpy friend, is training.”

His lips descended.

They pressed against mine, then pulled back. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Gabs, you’re going to need to open your mouth a bit more. Guys are stupid. They always assume that more tongue means better kissing, when the opposite is true, but you still need to have your lips parted, not locked down like Fort Knox.”

“What’s happening?” I tried to push away from him.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Gabs, believe me, this is all business. You can even keep your hand on my junk the whole time.”

“What!” I roared.

“So you know without a doubt that nothing about you turns me on.” He grinned menacingly. “Seriously, I don’t mind.”

“I do!”

“Hey!” He chuckled. “I was just trying to help.”

“Grabbing your penis is not the answer, Lex!”

“Weird, because it so often is.”

“I hate today.”

“Is it the rain?” He frowned.

“It’s not—”

“It is.”

“Stop that!” I shoved him. “Hurry up and grade my kissing skills so I can go home and study.”

“Kissing, hand holding, hugging, cuddling, laughing, winking—just a few things you need to master.” He was firing off so many horrible, body-numbing words.

“Just hurry up,” I grumbled in a defeated voice as I tried to block out the fact that he was a good-looking ass who offended me with every single breath he took.

“Ah . . .” Lex held up his hand. “One never hurries a kiss.”

“What about a passionate kiss?”

“A passionate kiss isn’t hurried, it’s frenzied. Damn, don’t you know anything?”

Heat swamped my cheeks.

“How many guys have you kissed, Gabs?”

“Plenty!” Five. I’d kissed five.

“You blush down your neck when you lie.” Lex cupped my chin and then brought his lips down against mine again. “Part.”

Sighing against his mouth, I relaxed my lips while his slid across.

He pulled back, wearing a frown of irritation. “A bit more, Gabs. Guys want access.”

I kept my eyes open.

So did he.

I didn’t want him assuming I was into it, which was probably his exact line of thinking. Only keeping my eyes open was an entirely raw experience, watching him watch me while I felt him.

I shivered.

“Cold?” That stupid smirk was back.

“Frigid.” I glared, putting myself down before he had a chance to.

“You read my mind.” He nodded seriously. “Now stop being a bitch, and let me teach you how to kiss.”

“I know how to kiss!” I don’t know what came over me—maybe it was the need to prove myself, or possibly it was just stress over the entire situation. Needing to stay in school and hating that he was the answer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped, my hips colliding with his as I mauled his mouth with as much passion as I could conjure up, this time closing my eyes and putting everything I had into it.

With a growl, Lex pushed me back against the countertop. As my butt collided with the edge, his tongue plunged into my mouth and his hands dug into my hair, pulling it free from its ponytail while he changed positions his lips demanding a punishing kiss from a different angle as his he gave my hair a harder tug back.

I grasped at his T-shirt, pulling him closer and nearly falling backward into the sink.

And then, just when I was in danger of losing myself to the kiss that would probably be the best kiss of my life, I bit down on his bottom lip.

That move didn’t work out the way I’d planned, not at all. In my head it was smart. I’d piss him off, get him to pull back and leave me alone.

It did nothing of the sort.

Nothing of the sort at all.

With a hiss he pulled back, fire blazing in his eyes. For a split second that seemed to go on for an eternity, he hovered and I waited, both of us on the edge of something. He wet his lips, I mimicked the movement, and then, like a snake, he struck. His mouth fused to mine in a punishing kiss, one that bruised my mouth while imprinting its essence on my soul.

Passionate couple kissing, boy and girl sitting on wooden floor near the rumpled bed opposite the window.

Passionate couple kissing, boy and girl sitting on wooden floor near the rumpled bed opposite the window.

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5Star

Michel’s Review

Okay ladies, it’s time to get your capes out and super reading powers fired up.  Gabbi needs all the girl power she can get.  As her designated sidekicks, we the readers have to have her back.  We cannot and I repeat cannot fall in love with Lex.  He is an evil villain put on this earth to make Gabbi’s life miserable.  Do not look into his sexy eyes, do not swoon over his sexy evil smile, and do not peak at those six pack abs he’s packing.  I’m telling you… this villain is a thief , he will steal your willpower and heart.  Gabbi needs us to help her slay this evil villain or at least put a gag in his sweet mouth.

Gabbi and Lex are world war three waiting to happen.  They can’t be around each other without objects flying ( mostly their clothes).  Their verbal sparring is their foreplay.  Each has quick wit, smart mouths, and sexual weapons.  Beneath the battlefield lies two hearts meant for one another.

Lex is a villian.  He is going to steal Gabbi’s complete heart.  He is going to destroy anything that stands in the way.  He’s bringing out his secret weapon, he’s bringing the pirates booty.

Along the way a love story is going to emerge in the aftermath of the destruction from the Matchmakers Replacement.

Rachel Van Dyken has knocked it out the park with this fun diabolical romance.

Passionate couple kissing, boy and girl sitting on wooden floor near the rumpled bed opposite the window.

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rachelborderRachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE / NEWSLETTER

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Giveaway

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Release Blitz + Excerpt + 5 Star Review: The Angels’ Share by J. R. Ward – The Bourbon Kings Series – Book 2

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The Angel’s Share

The Bourbon Kings Series – Book 2

By J. R. Ward

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

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Synopsis

#1 New York Times bestselling author J. R. Ward delivers the second novel in her Bourbon Kings series—a sweeping saga of a Southern dynasty struggling to maintain a façade of privilege and prosperity, while secrets and indiscretions threaten its very foundation……


In Charlemont, Kentucky, the Bradford family is the crème de la crème of high society—just like their exclusive brand of bourbon. And their complicated lives and vast estate are run by a discrete staff who inevitably become embroiled in their affairs. This is especially true now, when the apparent suicide of the family patriarch is starting to look more and more like murder…
No one is above suspicion—especially the eldest Bradford son, Edward. The bad blood between him and his father is known far and wide, and he is aware that he could be named a suspect. As the investigation into the death intensifies, he keeps himself busy at the bottom of a bottle—as well as with his former horse trainer’s daughter. Meanwhile, the family’s financial future lies in the perfectly manicured hands of a business rival, a woman who wants Edward all to herself.

Everything has consequences; everybody has secrets. And few can be trusted. Then, at the very brink of the family’s demise, someone thought lost to them forever returns to the fold. Maxwell Bradford has come home. But is he a savior…or the worst of all the sinners?

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Excerpt

Toyota trucks were not supposed to go seventy-five miles an hour. Especially when they were ten years old.

At least the driver was wide awake, even though it was four a.m.

Lizzie King had a death grip on the steering wheel, and her foot on the accelerator was actually catching floor as she headed for a rise in the highway.

She had woken up in her bed at her farmhouse alone. Ordinarily, that would have been the status quo, but not anymore, not now that Lane was back in her life. The wealthy playboy and the estate’s gardener had finally gotten their act together, love bonding two unlikelies closer and stronger than the molecules of a diamond.

And she was going to stand by him, no matter what the future held.

After all, it was so much easier to give up extraordinary wealth when you had never known it, never aspired to it—and especially when you had seen behind its glittering curtain to the sad, desolate desert on the far side of the glamour and prestige.

God, the stress Lane was under.

And so out of bed she had gotten. Down the creaking stairs she had gone. And all around her little house’s first floor she had wandered.

When Lizzie had looked outside, she’d discovered his car was missing, the Porsche he drove and parked beside the maple by her front porch nowhere to be seen. And as she had wondered why he had left without telling her, she had begun to worry.

Just a matter of nights since his father had killed himself, only a matter of days since William Baldwine’s body had been found on the far side of the Falls of the Ohio. And ever since then Lane’s face had had a faraway look, his mind churning always with the missing money, the divorce papers he had served on the rapacious Chantal, the status of the household bills, the precarious situation at the Bradford Bourbon Company, his brother Edward’s terrible physical condition, Miss Aurora’s illness.

But he hadn’t said a thing about any of it. His insomnia had been the only sign of the pressure, and that was what scared her. Lane always made an effort to be composed around her, asking her about her work in Easterly’s gardens, rubbing her bad shoulder, making her dinner, usually badly, but who cared. Ever since they had gotten the air cleared between them and had fully recommitted to their relationship, he had all but moved into her farmhouse—and as much as she loved having him with her, she had been waiting for the implosion to occur.

It would almost have been easier if he had been ranting and raving.

And now she feared that time had come—and some sixth sense made her terrified about where he had gone. Easterly, the Bradford Family Estate, was the first place she thought of. Or maybe the Old Site, where his family’s bourbon was still made and stored. Or perhaps Miss Aurora’s Baptist church?

Yes, Lizzie had tried him on his phone. And when the thing had rung on the table on his side of the bed, she hadn’t waited any longer after that. Clothes on. Keys in hand. Out to the truck.

No one else was on I-64 as she headed for the bridge to get across the river, and she kept the gas on even as she crested the hill and hit the decline to the river’s edge on the Indiana side. In response, her old truck picked up even more speed along with a death rattle that shook the wheel and the seat, but the damn Toyota was going to hold it together because she needed it to.

“Lane . . . where are you?”

God, all the times she had asked him how he was and he’d said, “Fine.” All those opportunities to talk that he hadn’t taken her up on. All the glances she’d shot him when he hadn’t been looking her way, all the time her monitoring for signs of cracking or strain. And yet there had been little to no emotion after that one moment they’d had together in the garden, that private, sacred moment when she had sought him out under the blooms of the fruit trees and told him that she’d gotten it wrong about him, that she had misjudged him, that she was prepared to make a pledge to him with the only thing she had: the deed to her farmhouse—which was exactly the kind of asset that could be sold to help pay for the lawyers’ fees as he fought to save his family.

Lane had held her, and told her he loved her—and refused her gift, explaining he was going to fix everything himself, that he was going to somehow find the stolen money, pay back the enormous debt, right the company, resurrect his family’s fortunes.

And she had believed him.

She still did.

But ever since then? He had been both as warm and closed off as a space heater, physically present and completely disengaged at the same time.

Lizzie did not blame him in the slightest.

It was strangely terrifying, however.

Off in the distance, across the river, Charlemont’s business district glowed and twinkled, a false, earthbound galaxy that was a lovely lie, and the bridge that connected the two shores was still lit up in spring green and bright pink for Derby, a preppy rainbow to that promised land. The good news was that there was no traffic, so as soon as Lizzie was on the other side, she could take the River Road exit off the highway, shoot north to Easterly’s hill, and see if his car was parked in front of the mansion.

Then she didn’t know what she was going to do.

The newly constructed bridge had three lanes going in both directions, the concrete median separating east from west tall and broad for safety purposes. There were rows of white lights down the middle, and everything was shiny, not just from the illumination, but a lack of exposure to the elements. Construction had only finished in March, and the first lines of traffic had made the crossing in early April, cutting rush-hour delays down—

Up ahead, parked in what was actually the “slow” lane, was a vehicle that her brain recognized before her eyes properly focused on it.

Lane’s Porsche. It was Lane’s—

Lizzie nailed the brake pedal harder than she’d been pounding the accelerator, and the truck made the transition from full-force forward to full-on stop with the grace of a sofa falling out a second-story window: Everything shuddered and shook, on the verge of structural disintegration, and worse, there was barely any change in velocity, as if her Toyota had worked too hard to gain the speed and wasn’t going to let the momentum go without a fight—

There was a figure on the edge of the bridge. On the very farthest edge of the bridge. On the lip of the bridge over the deadly drop.

“Lane,” she screamed. “Lane!”

Her truck went into a spin, pirouetting such that she had to wrench her head around to keep him in her sights. And she jumped out before the Toyota came to a full stop, leaving the gearshift in neutral, the engine running, the door open in her wake.

“Lane! No! Lane!”

Lizzie pounded across the pavement and surmounted barriers that seemed flimsy, too flimsy, given the distance down to the river.

Lane jerked his head around—

And lost one hold of the rail behind him.

As his grip slipped, shock registered on his face, a flash of surprise . . . that was immediately replaced by horror.

When he fell off into nothing but air.

Lizzie’s mouth could not open wide enough to release her scream.

 

 

Posted by arrangement with New American Library, a member of Penguin Group (USA) LLC, A Penguin Random House Company. Copyright © J.R. Ward, 2016.

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5Star

Michel’s Review

 

The Bourbon Kings series is quite different from the previous series by J. R. Ward. The writing and tone is in a class by itself that follows along the lines of contemporary fiction rather than romance fiction. It does not have the fast paced, intense action that readers are used to in the Black Dagger Brotherhood or Fallen Angels series. The characters are not the hard core alphas with loads of attitude to back them up. This series is based upon a prestigious family and their elite world. The characters are elitist that have been raised with entitlement and vast wealth.

The first book in the Bourbon Kings series introduced the characters, the dynamics of the Bradford family, and the death of daddy dearest.  The father’s death appears to be a suicide until some very incriminating evidence is found that indicates murder.  To the Bradford heirs the death of their father isn’t as devastating as it should be.  He was a cruel man that mistreated his children all their lives.  What is devastating is the mess he has left them in.  He left the family bankrupt.  He has lost over $165 million dollars in personal and business assets.  He has also left behind mistresses, illegitimate children, and powerful enemies.  Their distillery is close to shutting down.  No body knows where the money went or how far the deceptions lie.

Lane has taken over the family finances.  He’s trying to keep the family afloat, save the distillery, and save face for the business.  With each debt he uncovers comes a multitude of deceptions and secrets.  His siblings have fallen apart.

His older brother Edward was ruined long before Lane came home.  His sister Gin is marrying a monster in order to keep her wealthy lifestyle.  His brother Max has been MIA for three years.  His teenage niece has returned home after being expelled from her exclusive school.  His mother is in her own drug induced world and the woman that has been his mother of heart is dying.  The only good thing in his life is his girlfriend, Lizzie.  First he will have to divorce his conniving wife before he can marry the woman that owns his heart.

As the story unfolds it becomes very clear that everything is not as it seems on the surface.  In typical J.R. Ward fashion, the reader needs to read between the lines and think outside of the box.  The complexities are only beginning.  I believe as the Bourbon Kings series progresses the readers are going to be in for some great surprises.

Right now the only thing the Bradfords can do to unravel the mess of their lives is to follow the money.  That trail will lead to the answers that will make them all whole and a real family once again.

I know most readers were expecting this to be Edward’s book and in a sense it was.  Readers are only beginning to see a small part of this very complex man.  I think the revelations in future books is going to make up for what they were expecting in this book.

Like a good poker game, the game isn’t finished until all the cards are revealed and every hand has been played.

I can’t wait to see what comes next in The Bourbon Kings series.  The Bradfords are in for a mighty storm.

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BOURBONK

The Bourbon Kings

The Bourbon Kings – Book One

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Buy: Amazon / Barnes and Noble / ITunes / Kobo

Synopsis

The #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Black Dagger Brotherhood delivers the first novel in an enthralling new series set amid the shifting dynamics of a Southern family defined by wealth and privilege—and compromised by secrets, deceit, and scandal….

For generations, the Bradford family has worn the mantle of kings of the bourbon capital of the world. Their sustained wealth has afforded them prestige and privilege—as well as a hard-won division of class on their sprawling estate, Easterly. Upstairs, a dynasty that by all appearances plays by the rules of good fortune and good taste. Downstairs, the staff who work tirelessly to maintain the impeccable Bradford facade. And never the twain shall meet.

For Lizzie King, Easterly’s head gardener, crossing that divide nearly ruined her life. Falling in love with Tulane, the prodigal son of the bourbon dynasty, was nothing that she intended or wanted—and their bitter breakup only served to prove her instincts were right. Now, after two years of staying away, Tulane is finally coming home again, and he is bringing the past with him. No one will be left unmarked: not Tulane’s beautiful and ruthless wife; not his older brother, whose bitterness and bad blood know no bounds; and especially not the ironfisted Bradford patriarch, a man with few morals, fewer scruples, and many, many terrible secrets.

As family tensions—professional and intimately private—ignite, Easterly and all its inhabitants are thrown into the grips of an irrevocable transformation, and only the cunning will survive.

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JR Ward (dog) - Photo by Andrew HyslopJ.R. Ward is a #1 New York Times bestselling author with more than 15 million novels in print published in 25 different countries around the world. The books in her popular Black Dagger Brotherhood series have held the #1 spot on the New York Times hardcover, mass market, eBook, and combined print/eBook fiction bestseller lists and have debuted in the top 5 on the USA Today bestseller list. Prior to her writing career, Ward worked as a lawyer in Boston and spent many years as the Chief of Staff of one of Harvard’s world-renowned academic medical centers. Ward currently lives with her family in Kentucky where she has learned to enjoy and appreciate all things Southern. Connect with her online at www.jrward.com, Facebook.com/JRWardBooks, and Twitter.com/JRWard1.

 

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

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Release Blitz + Excerpt + Review + Giveaway: Forbidden Fling by Skye Jordan – Wildwood Series – Book 1

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Forbidden Fling

Wildwood Series – Book 1

By Skye Jordan

Release Date: July 26, 2016

Buy: Amazon

Synopsis

Forbidden Fling, Book 1 in the Wildwood Series by Skye Jordan

Delaney Hart has come a long way from her wild youth, dating tattooed bikers at her father’s bar, The Bad Seed. But when his death pulls her back to Wildwood, California, she must stay to renovate the dive he left her. And also face the lies and secrets that sent her running ten years before.

When Wildwood’s chief building inspector, Ethan Hayes, shows up on the property, Delaney doesn’t recognize him. The last thing he wants to do is save the bar where his cousin died in a brawl. But the good boy from her past is all too willing to remind her of the bad girl she used to be. And one night of passion leaves them both in a compromising position.

The last place Ethan should be is in Delaney’s bed. Guilt, family pressure, and plans for a brewpub of his own make shutting down The Bad Seed his top priority…until his feelings for Delaney interfere. Because her future depends on the success of the bar’s renovation and his dreams are rooted in its failure, their forbidden romance may be destined for heartbreak.

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Excerpt

She lifted a hand to his face and cupped his jaw. “You’ve been through enough. You have a great life here. A good job, great friends, everyone in town respects and likes you, all the single girls can’t wait for the day you look their way. I’m not going to come into town for a week, or a month, turn everything upside down, and leave. That’s not right.” She ran her thumb over his cheek and smiled. “So we’re good?”

 

Panic blipped through his chest. He covered her hand with his to keep her from leaving, while he fought for something to say that would fix everything and make her stay. But she was so freaking rational, so goddamned logical, he was having a hard time finding anything to work with. And with the bar, his grandfather, his family, his aunt, and his job in the middle of this, he didn’t even know if he should.

 

“Delaney, let’s—”

 

“It’s not a big deal.” She curled her fingers around his and lowered their hands. “And I’m not going to make it one. I just wanted you to know so you wouldn’t worry. I’m good, so we’re good.” She nodded. Smiled again. “Okay?”

 

Say okay and let her go.

 

He shifted on his feet.

 

One little word.

 

Let her go. Right your world.

 

“No.” He heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes. “No, it’s not okay.”

 

“Ethan . . .”

 

Her goddammit-I’m-barely-holding-on-here plea was lost on him. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her warm little body against his.

 

She pushed at his shoulders, leaning away. “You know I’m right. You know it’s what you need.”

 

“No.” He lifted a hand and cupped the back of her neck. “You are what I need.”

 

He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her. She mewled, the sound frustrated, but her hands fisted in his shirt and held him close.

 

Ethan softened his mouth, tilted his head, and kissed her again. This time, she whimpered and her body loosened. The feel of her melting against him pushed heat through his body. He moaned and slid the hand at her neck into the silky strands of her hair, and when she parted her lips to gasp, he pushed his tongue into her mouth.

 

She opened to him immediately, hungrily, and met the stroke of his tongue. The warm, wet slide made everything Ethan had been holding back—the lust, the confusion, the fear, the anger, the want, the longing—break through his barriers like a flood. The wave wiped everything from his mind but Delaney and brought profound relief.

 

With nothing else invading his thoughts, he focused on the luscious cushion of her breasts against his chest, the soft mound of her sex against his cock, the feel of her small waist beneath his arm.

 

And, God, her mouth. Wet. Warm. Wild.

 

He tore out of the kiss, lifting her into his arms and starting for the house. “Fuck, I need you.”

 

She bit her way down his neck, and tingles spread across his skin, but at the same time she murmured breathless attempts at logic. “We can’t keep doing this. Too complicated. If anyone finds out . . .”

 

He pushed his door open, covered her mouth with his, and let his tongue talk her out of leaving. By the time they were inside, she had her legs wrapped at his hips, one hand deep in his hair, the other working his belt open.

 

The thrill of winning her over spread through him like fire. He kicked the door closed, and Delaney pulled out of the kiss, breathless, both hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. Turning a circle, he searched for the closest horizontal surface. But his kitchen was a mess, his sofa was covered with laundry, and his dining room table was strewn with paperwork.

 

Then her mouth found his again, licking and biting and sucking, while her hands worked on his shirt, and his desperation mounted.

 

“This is the last time,” she murmured between kisses. “Not happening again.”

 

Screw that. He turned a half circle and rested her butt on a wide, deep windowsill. Her thighs opened, and she pulled him between her legs.

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4.5 Star

Michel’s Review

Welcome to Wildwood, the latest sizzling hot series by Skye Jordan.  Wildwood is anything but a charming small town.  The residents have long memories and hold grudges when one of their own royalty, one of the Hayes/Ryan boys, is brutally murdered in the Bad Seed.  The Bad Seed lives up to it’s name, it is a thorn and eyesore for the citizens of Wildwood.  Mayor Hayes is determined to have the bar demolished to the ground.  He will go to any lengths to have this happen even if it means skirting around the law.

The law states that the owner must be given due notice before the demolition can begin.  The owner has the right to bring the building up to code to prevent demolition.  The owners of the Bad Seed have been absent for years.  Now they are forced to deal with the legacy , or should I say mess, their father left them.  Delaney Hart has returned home to deal with the mess.

Ethan Hayes is the building inspector.  He also has a vested interest in the demolition of the Bad Seed.  He is also an honorable man and abides by the law.  His father wants him to ignore the law and to ignore Delaney Hart.  Ethan has never been able to ignore Delaney Hart.  She is his one secret desire since he was a boy.  Her return is the opportunity for him to finally catch Delaney’s attention.

Delaney only intended to be in town for a few days to deal with the demolition.  When she finds out the demolition is going to take her life savings, she begins to see the value in rebuilding the Bad Seed.  It also gives her the opportunity to spend time with the sexy building inspector, Ethan Hayes.  Her choice of rebuilding is going to destroy Ethan’s plans and anger a lot of powerful people.

Ethan and Delaney were both held responsible for the death in the Bad Seed ten years earlier.  They have both suffered from the repercussions of that night.  It’s time for them to stand up to the town bullies and claim their honor.

Forbidden Fling is like a modern day Romeo and Juliet placed in a hostile small town.  This time around Romeo and Juliet, or should I say Ethan and Delaney, are going to see their love through.

Skye Jordan wrote a sexy, entertaining romance.  I can’t wait to see what comes next in the Wildwood Series.  There are two Hart sisters waiting for their happily ever after.

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Joan Author PhotoSkye Jordan is a pseudonym for New York Times bestselling romantic suspense author Joan Swan. Skye’s novels are about enjoying that little wild streak we don’t let out often enough. About those fantasies we rarely get the opportunity to indulge. About stretching limits, checking out the dark side, and maybe even acting a little naughty. They’re about escape and fun and pleasure and romance. And, yes, even love, because while wicked-great sex is good, happily ever after with wicked-great sex is even better.

When she’s not writing, Skye loves to read, knit, craft, row, ride, and dabble in photography.

 Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

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Giveaway

Skye is giving away a digital copy of any Renegades book (winner’s choice) and a book coaster (US only for the coaster) for each blog stop

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Excerpt Reveal: Reaper’s Fire by Joanna Wylde – Reaper’s Motorcycle Club Series – Book 6

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reaper's fire coming soon


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Are you ready for Gage and Tinker’s story?

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Reaper’s Fire

Reapers Motorcycle Club – Book 6

By Joanna Wylde

Release Date : June 28th, 2016

*****

Pre Order: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

Synopsis

New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde returns to the “wild and raw”* world of the Reapers MC with the story of Gage and Tinker…

The club comes first.

I’ve lived by those words my whole life—assumed I’d die by them, too, and I never had a problem with that. My Reaper brothers took my back and I took theirs and it was enough. Then I met her. Tinker Garrett. She’s beautiful, she’s loyal, and she works so damned hard it scares me sometimes . . . She deserves a good man—one better than me. I can’t take her yet because the club still needs me. There’s another woman, another job, another fight just ahead.

Now she’ll learn I’ve been lying to her all along. None of it’s real. Not my name, not my job, not even the clothes I wear. She thinks I’m nice. She pretends we’re just friends, that I’ve still got a soul . . . Mine’s been dead for years. Now I’m on fire for this woman, and a man can only burn for so long before he destroys everything around him.

I’m coming for you, Tinker.

Soon.

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Excerpt

Tinker

It was almost seven that evening when I felt the AC kick back on. I’d been lying on my back on the (relatively) cool tile floor behind the counter, staring up at the pressed-tin ceiling and trying to remember why I hadn’t already moved back to Seattle.

In Seattle it rained.

Cool breezes blew off the bay and the lush greenery covered everything with its shaded canopy. People didn’t really need air-conditioning, but if they happened to have it and it broke, there were lots of repair men available.

Of course, Seattle also had Brandon. Not only that, my dad didn’t want to move, and I’d come to realize I couldn’t leave him here alone. It wasn’t safe for him, not since Mom died.

Ugh.

At least the AC was working again, blowing down from the ceiling vent across my sweaty body, reminding me that while the world might not be crawling with perfect men, at least there were still a few useful ones running around. Cooper Romero was a keeper, and it had nothing to do with how sexy he was . . . although the fact that he was sex on a stick—make that sex with a stick—didn’t exactly diminish his appeal.

When I’d dragged him up to the black tar roof to show him the ancient AC, I’d expected him to make a run for it. Any sensible man would. Instead, he’d spent the whole afternoon busting his ass to save my chocolates—Oh God, I wish that were code for something more exciting—officially qualifying him as a superhero in my book.

As for me, there wasn’t much I could do once I got all the sweets safely downstairs into the basement. There weren’t any customers walking in off the street, and seeing as I couldn’t make or ship candy in a 102-degree shop, I’d alternated between attempting to read a book, looking over orders I couldn’t fulfill on my laptop, and bringing Cooper glasses of iced tea. I’d been nervous around him at first, but you can only stay nervous for so long when you’re sweating like a pig—there’s a certain freedom in knowing you look like hell and there’s no saving your hair. I’d thrown my arm across my eyes in a pathetic attempt to block out reality toward the end.

When cold air started flowing into the room, I could’ve cried with relief. He’d never had a chance to fill out the application form, and I’d long since decided it didn’t matter. Unless he was an ax murderer, I’d give him the apartment and the job.

Might give it to him even if he was, to be honest.

“It’s working again,” Cooper announced, and I jerked, startled. Shit, had I fallen asleep? Opening my eyes, I looked up to find him standing over me. Dear God in heaven—that was one hell of a bare chest.

Holy. Shit.

I’d taken note of his build when he first walked in the shop, but everything under his shirt had been theoretical. Now there was six-foot-plus of raw sex appeal right there, all sweaty and sculpted and . . . well, let’s just say I’d be stopping off on the way home to pick up some fresh batteries.

That’s when the situation hit me—Cooper Romero was the hottest man I’d met in forever, and he’d just found me lying on the floor in my own sweat and filth like a dog. Typical luck. I scrambled to my feet, pretending I wasn’t totally embarrassed (I was) and not in the least bit freaked out by how unspeakably attractive this guy was. Okay, “attractive” wasn’t quite the right word, because it implied a certain level of polish and class that just didn’t fit Cooper at all.

Brandon was attractive.

Cooper?

I’d lick him all over and massage his butt if he asked. He stared down at me, his eyes carefully blank, making it very clear he wasn’t asking. Story of my fucking life. Sitting up, I pushed myself to my feet without bothering to dust off. Lost cause at this point.

“Not sure how much life the AC has left,” he said slowly. “I managed to get it going, but fixing it right would cost more than it’s worth and then some.”

Of course it would.

“I just need to get through the summer,” I told him, wiping a finger under my eye. My perfectly applied, vintage-style makeup had melted, leaving me with a clown face. Fortunately I’d (mostly) given up on caring three hours ago, right around the time I’d discovered the floor tiles were cooler than the rest of the room. “After that, I’ll worry about the furnace and by next summer I might not even be here anymore.”

“Really?” he asked, cocking a brow. “You selling out?”

“Not sure,” I told him. “I’m not thinking that far ahead right now. Things are very iffy with my dad . . . I think he’s got some—”

No. I couldn’t say it. Saying it out loud made it too real, plus the last thing I needed were a bunch of rumors flying around town. So far we’d kept dad’s situation mostly to family and friends.

“Tinker?”

Shaking myself, I smiled at him. “Thank you so much for fixing that. I’m not even sure what I would’ve done—I can’t afford to miss a week’s worth of orders. Not only would it put me behind, it would burn my customers.”

He nodded, studying me thoughtfully. God, he really was beautiful . . . Nothing like Brandon’s polished sophistication. No, Cooper gave off more of a warrior-tossing-you-over-his-fearless-steed kind of vibe. Yeah, like that would end well, because my track record with men was so fucking perfect, right?

Pull your head out of the gutter. He probably has a girlfriend.

At least I could finally lock up this hellhole of a shop and get a shower.

“Thank you so much—you have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“No, but the whole throwing yourself at my feet thing was a subtle hint,” he said, and I realized he was teasing me. Was he flirting? I couldn’t decide if that kicked ass or scared the shit out of me.

“Anyway, it’s getting late,” I told him, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’m going to grab some dinner down the street, and then I could take you over and show you the apartment.”

A small, knowing smile crossed his face, and I realized he thought I was hitting on him.

“No,” I said quickly, mortified. “I wasn’t asking you out. Omigod, this is weird.”

“What, you aren’t turned on by a man who smells like old socks?” he asked lightly, raising his arm and giving a sniff. He was joking, but the sweat wasn’t a turnoff. Nope. Not even a little bit. “If that’s not enough for you, the roof tar on my ass should be a big attraction.”

Closing my eyes, I bit back a groan. He started laughing. Not in a cruel way, but companionably, which I guess made sense because both of us were disgusting as hell. Of course, now I wanted to check out his ass, but I managed to keep my eyes on target (mostly) when I answered him.

“Well, it’s sexy but I’ll manage to control myself somehow. I do want to grab dinner, though, and we need to figure out the apartment details.”

“I’ll take the place, doesn’t matter what it is,” he replied. “I’m in a hotel and it’s getting old. I’d love to move in on Sunday, but I can’t go look at it right now—gotta get my ass cleaned up. Meeting up with someone later.”

Of course he was, because men who looked like Cooper didn’t spend Friday nights alone.

“Sounds great,” I told him, refusing to show any disappointment. “Just text me when you’re ready, and I’ll get you the key.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden pounding against the locked shop door caught us both off guard. I spun around to find Talia Jackson glaring at me through the glass. Talia and three of her skankier friends, including Sadie Baxter, a girl I used to babysit when I was in college.

A girl who was now twenty.

Damn.

“Cooper!” Talia shouted. “What the fuck are you doing?”

I glanced at my new handyman, startled. Talia Jackson and her brother, Marsh, were two of the nastiest people I’d ever met. Marsh was president of the local motorcycle gang, a group called the Nighthawk Raiders motorcycle club. The club had been around most of my life, but it was only in recent years that they’d turned really bad. I mean, they were never the kinder, gentler sort of bikers, but I’d never been actively afraid when I’d heard a motorcycle, either.

Now? Let’s just say we’d all gotten a little edgy.

“That’s my girl,” Cooper said, and something deep down inside of me died a little. Of course he’d go for someone like Talia. She might have the heart of a deranged circus clown—you know, the kind that survives by eating the souls of innocent children—but she was hot.

Really hot.

Not only that, she was slutty, and while I wasn’t into the whole slut-shaming thing (like I had room to judge after the bachelorette party debacle . . . ugh), I wasn’t naive enough to think he was attracted to her personality. Cooper Romero might have a sweet smile, and he’d fixed my AC, but now I had proof positive that he’d never be into a girl like me.

Specifically, a grown-up with curves.

All righty, then. Probably for the best anyway.

“Just a sec!” I called to her, determined to take the high road, then I grabbed my keys so I could open the door. She pushed inside with her posse, and I do mean pushed. Little bitch shoved me so hard I nearly knocked over the display of antique Russian teacups my mother had lovingly collected. (So far as I knew, she’d never sold a single one of them, but it’d made her happy.)

“Careful,” I warned, and Talia turned on me.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Babe, let’s talk,” Cooper said, catching her arm and pulling her into his body. She squealed, going from aggressive to flirty in an instant.

“You’re all sweaty. It’s sooo disgusting.”

I noted she wasn’t trying to get away. Cooper smiled down at her, a hint of something feral in his eyes. Yeah, okay—whatever smile he’d been giving me, it hadn’t held any of that kind of intensity.

Yours truly was officially chopped liver.

“I was just about to head out and grab a shower,” he told her. “Wanna come with me?”

She pouted. “I can’t. The girls and I need to get fixed up. I’ll see you at the bar, though, right?”

He looked down at her, offering a sexy, indulgent smile. “Can’t wait.”

“Perfect,” she said, reaching around to grab his ass for a quick squeeze. Then she turned and strutted back out without a word to me, her gaggle of girls following like well-trained geese. Sadie gave a little finger wave on the way. The door closed behind them with a cheerful little jingle, and I wondered why the hell I even bothered with Hallies Falls.

I missed Seattle.

So what if it had Brandon? I could drown him in Lake Washington. Problem solved.

“Sorry about that—Talia is a little high-strung,” Cooper said.

“Oh, I know all about her,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as catty as I felt. Cooper didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m new to town, but she’s been showing me around,” Cooper continued, stepping over to stand in front of me, hands shoved deep in his front pockets. “I should get going.”

“Of course—don’t let me keep you. What time do you think you’ll be in touch tomorrow?”

“Afternoon work?”

“No problem. Looking forward to hearing from you.”

He nodded and pushed through the door, walking down the street without a second look back. I locked up behind him, wondering why all the hottest guys were douchebags. Not that Cooper had acted like a douche, but he had to be my age or older—late thirties—and Talia was the same age as Sadie. She was also a raging bitch. There was only one reason a man like him would date a girl like that, and it had nothing to do with personality or character.

Cooper Romero might be beautiful, but obviously he was shallow. Suppose it was too much to hope for a man who could fix an air conditioner and have a soul at the same time.

Pity

___________________________________________________

Have you heard?

Reaper’s Property by Joanna Wylde has a NEW COVER!

reaper's property new cover

Reaper’s Property by Joanna Wylde has a NEW COVER!

Meet Horse & Marie for ONLY $3.99 (normally $7.99)

Author’s Note: This book was originally released through a small publisher in 2013. This independent edition has been lightly edited, and contains a bonus short, “Sticky Sweet” (originally published on the author’s website) and a Q&A with the author.

******

Reaper’s Property

Reaper’s MC – Book 1

By Joanna Wylde

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

Synopsis

Marie doesn’t need a complication like Horse. The massive, tattooed badass biker who shows up at her brother’s house one afternoon doesn’t agree. He wants Marie on his bike and in his bed. Now.

 

But Marie just left her abusive jerk of an ex-husband and she’s not looking for a new man. Especially one like Horse. She doesn’t know his real name or where he lives. She’s ninety percent certain he’s a criminal and that the “business” he talked with her brother wasn’t website design. She needs him out of her life, which would be a snap if he wasn’t so damned sexy.

 

Horse is part of the Reapers Motorcycle Club, and when he wants something, he takes it. What is he wants is Marie, but she’s not interested in becoming some biker’s property.

 

Then her brother steals from the club. Now Marie can save him by giving Horse what he wants—at home, in public, on his bike… and if she’s a very, very good girl, he’ll let her brother live.

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About Joanna Wylde

joanna wyldeJoanna is a freelance writer living in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. She started writing fiction in 2002, then took a long hiatus to explore other writing opportunities. She returned to fiction in January 2013 with ‘Reaper’s Property’, the first book in the Reapers Motorcycle Club series, and has recently released ‘Reapers Legacy’, the second of the series.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

 

 

 

reaper's fire

Release Blitz + Excerpt : Filthy English by Ilsa Madden-Mills

filthy english now avaiable.

filthy english cover

A smokin’ hot British player…

A jilted girl…

One night of mistaken identity…

****

Filthy English

By Ilsa Madden-Mills

Release Date: July 11, 2016

Buy: Amazon / Amazon UK

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Synopsis

A smokin’ hot British player…

A jilted girl…

One night of mistaken identity…

 

Two weeks before her wedding, Remi Montague’s fiancé drops her faster than a drunken sorority girl in stilettos. Armed with her best friend and a bottle of tequila, she hops a plane to London to drown her sorrows before fall semester begins at Whitman University.

 

She didn’t plan on attending a masquerade party.

 

She sure didn’t plan on waking up next to the British bad boy who broke her heart three years ago—the devastatingly handsome and naked Dax Blay. Furthermore, she has no clue how they acquired matching tattoos.

 

Once back at Whitman together, they endeavor to pretend they never had their night of unbridled passion in London.

 

But that’s damn hard to do when you live in the same house…

 

One night. Two damaged hearts. The passion of a lifetime.

 

*A modern love story inspired by Romeo and Juliet*

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perfect fit man from the back in the white towel

perfect fit man from the back in the white towel

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Remi

Plain and simple, this night sucked.

Sadly, it was my honeymoon.

I sighed heavily and gazed around Masquerade, an intimately lit London nightclub where everyone wore black domino masks, some elaborate and some plain, to hide their identity. A few die-hards even sported dark clothing with long, loose cloaks. Not me though. I’d gone modern with a slinky little number and three-inch heels, putting my height at nearly six feet. Yep, I’m the giant in the blue dress, towering over every girl and some guys at the bar.

My top teeth dug into my bottom lip as I gazed around the smoky club, my eyes bouncing off random faces. Even in a room full of party people, music, and strobe lights, I was lonely.

My groom was missing.

That’s right. Hartford Wilcox, Jr., aka Mr. Nice Guy at Whitman University in North Carolina, had jilted me two weeks before the big wedding day as we had dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, Mario’s.

And now here I was—on my honeymoon and getting trashed with my best friend Lulu who’d decided to skip her beach vacation and come with me at the last minute.

She poked me with her finger as we sat in front of the heavy wooden bar of the club. “Hey, Earth to Remi, get that glazed look out of your eyes and order a drink already. I’m thirsty.” She fluffed her pixie-cut pink hair and straightened her black tutu, eyes scoping out the club. “Dang, the men in here are hotter than a billy goat with a blow torch,” she said in her honeyed southern drawl.

I half-heartedly agreed, not really caring, more intent on scanning the bottles behind the bar. “I want tequila,” I murmured. “A whole bottle.”

Her face snapped back to me and her green eyes widened. “Uh-uh. No way. I know what happens when you drink that crap. You either eat a ton of tacos and puke, or you wrap yourself around some cocky bastard with a well-developed tush.”

True. I did love a tight muscular ass.

But I wouldn’t get one tonight.

A short laugh burst out of me, one of those I’m-miserable-but-pretending-to- be-okay-laughs that I’d been doing a lot of lately. For the past two weeks, I’d vacillated between a sobbing mess and an angry woman who became so incensed that “fuck” was the only word that seemed appropriate in any given situation. Going to the post office to mail he dumped me, but thank you anyway cards. Fuck. Going to the wedding venue and not getting the ten thousand dollar deposit back. Fuck. Realizing I was homeless fall semester—which was in two weeks—fuck. Listening to my mother tell me it was my fault. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The bartender delivered my bottle and poured me a shot. I sucked the tequila down while Lulu watched me warily. It tasted like bad decisions and gasoline, but tonight was about forgetting. The sooner the better.

A few minutes later, Lulu went out to dance with a British guy she’d been making eyes at. I sat glumly at the bar, fiddling with my diamond tennis bracelet, rubbing it like rosary beads. I needed to forget Hartford, and according to Lulu, that meant hooking up with someone.

Was she right?

Fate answered in the form of a beautiful man—and by beautiful I mean drop-dead sexy with a backside so delectable and muscular my mouth plopped open.

I snapped my lips shut and adjusted my velvet half-mask—the annoying feathery plumes on the sides kept sticking to my red lipstick—and turned ever so slightly to check him out, not wanting to appear obvious. He slid into the seat next to me, tall and broad with rippling shoulders and a massive frame.

I checked my appearance in a mirror behind the bar, mentally analyzing the odds of a girl like me snagging a hottie like him.

Although no one had ever called me beautiful, I did have two—okay, maybe three—things going for me in the looks department. My shiny, golden-brown hair that hung down in waves to my shoulders, my fluffy “pillow lips” as Lulu described them, and lastly, I had an itsy bitsy space between my two front teeth which were otherwise white and perfect. Lulu claimed the gap lent me an exotic look, like Madonna or Sookie Stackhouse. Whatever. I was a True Blood fan. I went with it.

He shifted on the stool, leaning closer to me. His cologne swirled in the air, the smell of expensive Scotch and musk mingling together to create a heady, slightly dangerous scent. I paused, goosebumps rising on my bare arms. The spicy whiff triggered a distant memory just out of reach.

As slyly as I could, I studied his profile from top to bottom. Like me he wore a black mask, although his was more masculine, not hiding his chiseled, movie star jawline. His lips were carnal and luscious, the bottom more plump than the top with a slight indentation in the middle. As I watched, his tongue swept out and caressed it, his top teeth biting it as if he were deep in thought. He raked a hand through his dark, longish messy hair, held it suspended above his head for a few seconds and then released it, letting it swish back into its tousled yet perfect place.

I tore my eyes away.

Something about him sent loud warning bells ringing in every atom of my body.

Danger, danger. Don’t touch that.

But my gaze would not be denied as I took in the tight black shirt and sculpted chest that was obviously used to the inside of a gym, right down to an arm that looked like it could snap a board in half—or me.

Nice biceps, Mr. Beautiful.

The pièce de résistance was the vivid blue and orange dragonfly tattoo displayed on his left arm. It was larger than my hand and took up most of his bicep. My eyes traced the contours of the design from the papery wings to the multi-faceted eyes. A bold black color outlined the insect, giving it a masculine feel.

Gorgeous.

True Religion jeans stretched down long legs and ended in a pair of black Converse without socks, giving him a boyish quality that was in direct contrast to the crazy-sexy-bad-boy vibe he had going on.

Him tonight?

Maybe. He was the polar opposite of Hartford who was blond, lean, and tattoo-free.

I nibbled on my fingernail. How do I get him to notice little ol’ me?

Just then a redhead with fluffy Farrah Fawcett hair strode up to his stool, bold as brass, wearing a tight, white mini-skirt that barely covered her booty. She brought with her the smell of sweet, cloying perfume, the kind I always got spritzed with at the mall.

She flicked her hair over her shoulder, casually rubbed her finger down his arm and struck up a conversation. Her fake, black lashes—which she’d somehow managed to get outside the eyeholes of her mask—batted. She puffed out her well-developed chest.

He smiled back at her with a wicked grin, his relaxed body language telling me he was confident when it came to women. She whispered in his ear, boobs right in his face, but whatever he said back wasn’t what she wanted to hear because a few ticks later, she crossed her arms, glared at me, and stalked away.

I blinked. What had I done?

Then he turned and pointed his devastating smile at me.

Shit, he’d made eye contact—as much as you could with a claustrophobic mask on.

But wait…

Was he crazy?

Because if he’d turned down her flirtation, I didn’t have a shot.

I didn’t know how to do the fingers-tip-toeing-up-his-arm-thing and sexy hair flicking. I didn’t know a thing about applying fake eyelashes. I didn’t know how to make my breasts sit up that high. I looked away from him and took another shot, feeling anxious and strangely off-kilter.

Mr. Beautiful ordered a drink from the bartender, his British accent smooth as silk as it washed over me. I froze. I almost knew that voice—deep with soft rounded vowels that made you tingle in your lady parts.

What was it about this guy that had me all jacked up and hot for him?

Hello, tequila, my inner voice said. But it was more than that.

Getting brave, I pivoted on my barstool, and found Mr. Beautiful’s eyes on me once more, searching my face. As if he too recognized the pull between us.

My heart played hopscotch, jumping against my chest. My skin prickled. I shivered.

Did I know him?

It clicked.

Dax Blay?

It was his voice, the same deep quality, the kind of voice that made you want to hop into his bed and ride him like a cowgirl.

My breath hitched, and I swallowed down the emotion that zipped up my spine whenever I thought of him. He was my one mistake, the time I’d tossed inhibitions and carefully laid plans aside and went with my instincts, only to have them tossed back in my face.

But the man next to me wasn’t Dax. Thank God.

Last spring at the campus-wide end of the year fraternity party with Hartford, I’d seen Dax, and he’d had shorter hair, like always, and zero tattoos. Yeah. No way.

Plus, last I heard, he was in Raleigh where his father lived.

Yet…

Dax was British. He could have family here. Maybe he got a tattoo?

Nah. I mean, what were the odds of us both being at the same club on the same night in a country where neither of us lived?

I tore my eyes off Mr. Beautiful and waved at a bartender for more limes, but somehow my tennis bracelet snagged on the bodice of my dress, leaving my wrist dangling like a wet dishrag in a most inappropriate place.

I wiggled my arm.

Jiggled it.

Even went so far as to jerk, but it wouldn’t separate.

Sweat popped out on my forehead. Holding my breath, I twisted and tugged the bracelet, forcing the delicate material in my bodice to stretch beyond normal limits.

“Well, hell,” I breathed, pausing to assess.

Skin-tight with a plunging neckline, the dress was mostly a stretchy fabric held together by sequined straps and a zipper on the side. Slated as part of my honeymoon wardrobe, it was a Tory Burch and had cost four hundred dollars, the most I’d ever paid for a fun outfit, and no way did I want to damage it. I might have to return it to rent an apartment at Whitman.

Lulu. I needed Lulu. She was a whiz with wardrobe malfunctions.

I spun around on the barstool and used my free hand to wave at her, but she was slinging herself around dancing, having a great time and completely oblivious. I resorted to flapping both hands at her, one high and one low. Several people waved back with baffled expressions, but Lulu didn’t notice. Dammit.

I groaned and slumped down in my seat, ready to scream. Now what? Go to the bathroom and repair it there? Good plan.

But the club tilted when I stood, the strobe lights making me squint as they flashed in my face. I wobbled in my leopard print heels—that Lulu had insisted I wear—and grabbed the stool to keep my balance. `

I sucked in a breath to gather myself, but I couldn’t think straight. The room spun, and I was suddenly queasy, and why did I slam all that tequila, and oh my god, my wrist is currently attached to my tit like a T. rex arm.

I had to get out of here before someone noticed what an idiot I was.

Trying to be stealth like, I reached across the bar to get my beaded clutch, but because it was my left hand and not my right that I used most of the time, I got off balance and stumbled—and my ankle folded in on itself. I yelped as my shoe catapulted off my foot and vaulted off toward the dance floor, while I fell forward, straight into Mr. Beautiful’s lap.

Filthy English (unedited excerpt)

Copyright Ilsa Madden-Mills

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Briarcrest Academy Series

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Very Bad Things – Book 1

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

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Very Wicked Beginnings – Book 1.5

Buy: Amazon

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Very Wicked Things – Book 2

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

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Very Twisted Things – Book 3

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

************

dirty english cover

Dirty English

By Ilsa Madden- Mills

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Buy: Amazon  / Amazon UK

________________________________________________________

 Author Bio

ilsa madden -millsa

New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

 

She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.

 

She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.

 

When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.

 

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Instagram ~ Amazon Author Page

★ Sign up for her newsletter★

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Release Blitz + Excerpt : Love Tap by M. N. Forgy

love tap book tour

 

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love tap it's live

Meet Tatum and Camden in this

second chance fighter Romance!

***

Love Tap

By M. N. Forgy

Release Date: July 6, 2016

Buy: Amazon / Amazon UK /  B & N / ITunes / Kobo

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Blurb

 

All I ever wanted was to be a female fighter.

It was in my blood to smack people around.

Some girls wore pink dresses and makeup, I wore sneakers and bruises.

I was a loner, stuck to myself because I was different, until Camden Steel moved next door.

I punched him in the mouth, and he saw me through rose colored glasses from that day on.

I had everything I ever wanted.

The boy next door, inspiring career… until I didn’t.

He hates me. I deserve that.

They say you have to fight for what you want… What they don’t tell you… is it’ll cost you more than you’re willing to give to reach the top.

love tap teaser use

Excerpt

Climbing off the bed I grab her by the ankle, jerking her to the edge of the bed roughly.

She jumps awake panicked. Her wild, frantic eyes finding mine.

“Camden, what the fuck?”

“I thought I made it clear I didn’t want you to move, I wanted you to sleep on me.” My voice hard and accusing, all the feelings I felt that morning after she left when I was eighteen surfacing. She jerks her foot, but I tighten my hold. “I wasn’t joking.”

Bending down I grab her by the hips and throw her naked body over my shoulder.

“What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”

“I have, and it’s because I fell for the little girl next door when I was a fucking kid,” I bark.

Yanking the curtains to the floor to ceiling window open I set her down, her back facing me.

“Put your hands on the window,” I instruct harshly.

She obeys surprisingly, and looks over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Fucking you.”

Spreading her ass cheeks I push the head of my dick into her quickly, needing to feel her now. She takes in a sharp breath, her fingers tensing against the glass as I shove into her with so much force her head bangs against the window.

My chest rising and falling rapidly, I caress the shell of her ear with my lips.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Her forehead pressed against the window she turns it, looking me in the eye.

“What?”

“That I’m possessive, controlling, crazy.” I thrust into her hard and her mouth parts with pleasure. “You made me this way, you made me the crazy man that wants to love you.”

Pressing my back onto hers, I interlock our fingers on the window, my face in the crook of her neck.

“Let me love you, let me be the crazy motherfucker that loves you.”

She nods, her breath fogging the glass as I continue to thrust into her.

love tap teaser 1

 

4 Star

Michel’s Review

M. N. Forgy has stepped out of the clubhouse into the cage.  Unlike most MMA Fighter romances, Love Tap has it’s own unique formula.  It is a second chance romance featuring a female fighter.

Camden and Tate have a long complicated history.  Their relationship fell apart when Tate left Camden behind for college in California.  Three years later Tate realizes she has made the wrong choice for her life.  She was meant to be a fighter.  She was meant to be in the cage.  She was also meant to be with Camden.  She’s heading home ready to fight for the life she wants.

She didn’t anticipate the difficulties of returning home.  Not only does she have to start building a fighting career and begin learning what it takes to be a pro fighter, she also has to repair her broken relationships with her family.  She also needs Cam’s forgiveness.

Cam and Tate have always fought for their love and their friendship. This time around it could be the final round in their lives.

Outside of their relationship they will have to deal with greedy coaches, corrupt fighters, and deadly matches.

Ding Ding… let the fight begin!

M. N. Forgy has once again written a fantastic book.  I really enjoyed this story.

____________________________________

 

About the Author

m.n. forgy bioM.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She’s a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn’t live with the “what if” anymore and finally took a chance on her character’s story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.

 

 

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Release Blitz + Excerpt + Giveaway : Chasing Impossible by Katie McGarry

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CHASING IMPOSSIBLE, the highly anticipated fifth book in the Pushing the Limits Series by Katie McGarry has arrived! In true McGarry fashion this book will have you flipping pages well into the night. Grab your copy today!

 

 

 

Chasing Impossible cover

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** Kobo ** iBooks ** Google Play ** Harlequin

About CHASING IMPOSSIBLE:

Tough and independent, 17-year-old Abby lets very few people into her inner circle. It’s common knowledge in her Kentucky town that she deals drugs, but not even her closest friends know why. But when a deal goes south and Abby’s suddenly in danger, she finds herself reluctantly forced to lean on daredevil Logan—a boy whose restless spirit matches her own.

Logan has his own reasons for wanting to keep Abby at arms’ length. But he never expected to find in her the one person who might help him face the demons he’s tried so hard to run from.

Together, Abby and Logan will have to make a decision: let their current circumstances weigh them down forever…or fight for the future they both thought was impossible.

 

 

Chasing Impossible - RDL Teaser 2

 

And don’t forget to read the first books in the Pushing the Limits Series…

PUSHING THE LIMITS

CROSSING THE LINE

BREAKING THE RULES

DARE YOU TO

CRASH INTO YOU

TAKE ME ON

 

 

Chasing Impossible - RDL Teaser 1

EXCERPT:

Abby

People near the stage scream and clap and I’m about ready to throw my cell against the wall. Stupid, stupid boy and stupid me for stupidly somewhat liking him and him thinking he can get away with not answering me.

“Give it up for our boy Logan.”

My eyes rip up, go for the stage, and my mind shifts into reverse, fast-forward, rewind, and then that smile that’s associated with the devil slides across my face.

Logan stands strong on the stage. Guitar strapped across his chest. Baseball cap backwards on his black hair. And when he strikes the strings of the guitar, those biceps flex beautifully.

That chord just struck a lot deeper than anyone could have imagined. Past my bones, past my muscles, and it’s created a nice warmth that’s curling around my belly. Liquid warmth.

The logical part of my brain demands that I walk away, but he’s the one that scared me by not answering back. He’s the one that’s causing all these alien emotions stirring in my veins.

Yeah, I shouldn’t kiss Logan. I should definitely leave a boy like that alone. But he returned and he’s the one that climbed onto the stage and is looking addictively sexy with that guitar.

Yep, shouldn’t kiss him, but I already told Rachel, I’m going to kiss the guitarist tonight. Wouldn’t want that one to be a lie, now, would I?

 

 

 

Katie McGarry - author picAbout Katie McGarry:

Katie McGarry was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan.

Katie is the author of full length YA novels, PUSHING THE LIMITS, DARE YOU TO, CRASH INTO YOU, TAKE ME ON, BREAKING THE RULES, and NOWHERE BUT HERE and the e-novellas, CROSSING THE LINE and RED AT NIGHT. Her debut YA novel, PUSHING THE LIMITS was a 2012 Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction, a RT Magazine’s 2012 Reviewer’s Choice Awards Nominee for Young Adult Contemporary Novel, a double Rita Finalist, and a 2013 YALSA Top Ten Teen Pick. DARE YOU TO was also a Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction and won RT Magazine’s Reviewer’s Choice Best Book Award for Young Adult Contemporary fiction in 2013.

 

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