Drawn Through You by Sarina Rhodes…Review

Drawn Through You_cover

Synopsis:

What if the brooding billionaire wore pencil skirts and Louboutins? What if the impressionable intern was a small-town furniture maker with boyish charm?

Cole Jacobson always thought he would take after his father and pursue his dreams. But when the family business falters and he’s forced to accept his uncle’s help, Cole is summoned to the big city for a job he never wanted.

Priorities become obscured when Cole finds himself working for Shaun Wright, the strong, intimidating, and ruthlessly attractive business partner at his uncle’s contracting firm. Forced to either sacrifice his hard-won integrity or leave behind the one thing that brings him true happiness, Cole must make a decision that could cost him both. A decision only complicated by the sexy, inscrutable woman he can’t stop thinking about. A woman who just might be as intrigued as he is to cross professional boundaries.

A provocative, trope-twisting romance, Sarina Rhoads’s Drawn Through You finally puts the heroine on the other side of the desk.

 

My Review:

Romance novels get a bad rap for being formulaic and to a degree it’s true. I mean, you always get your happily ever after or happy for now, but that’s what makes it a romance. And at some point the hero and heroine have to go through a conflict to get to their particular brand of happy, but how they get there is different for every book. Ever couple is different. Sarina Rhoads’s Drawn Through You goes a step further by turning a popular trope on its head.

My eyes were starting to glaze over whenever I saw or heard about another billionaire book. But to have the heroine be in the position of power? Yes, please! The author does a good job of making both Shaun and Cole believable, as well as the incendiary chemistry. The sex scenes are hot, hot, HOT! Remember phone sex? It’s alive and well in Drawn Through You! No video, no Skyping, just good old-fashioned phone sex.

The role reversal worked well, thanks to a smart story. The characters were well developed and believable as they navigated through some corporate intrigue and the usual romantic pitfalls all new couples face (plus one or two unexpected things). If you want something a little different than your average billionaire romance, check out Drawn Through You.

 

4LovesRLB

Four Loves

Stacey Sig

 

Book links:

Amazon  |  B&N 

About the author:Sarina Rhoads photo

Maintaining a suburban orbit of NYC all her life, Sarina Rhoads ran the gamut of odd jobs in pursuit of a one true passion. Now she finds pleasure in penning both contemporary and paranormal romance, possessing notebooks chock full of ideas only waiting to be released.

Visit her website

Cover Reveal…Hallowed Ground by Rebecca Yarros

New Military Romance from Rebecca Yarros in Hallowed Ground (Book Four) of the Flight & Glory Series

releasing January 25th!

hallowed ground cover

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OVPJ0w

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Y05StF

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1NeMPn1

iBooks: http://apple.co/1lywj8A

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1QhPU9O

Blurb

There are some debts you can’t repay.

Josh Walker is loyal, reckless, and every girl’s dream. But he only has eyes for December Howard, the girl he’s craved since his high school hockey days. Together they have survived grief, the military, distance, and time as they’ve fought for stolen weekends between his post at Ft. Rucker and her college at Vanderbilt. Now that Josh is a medevac pilot and Ember is headed toward graduation, they’re moving on—and in—together.

Ember never wanted the Army life, but loving Josh means accepting whatever the army dictates—even when that means saying goodbye as Josh heads to Afghanistan, a country that nearly killed him once before and that took her father. But filling their last days together with love, passion, and plans for their future doesn’t temper Ember’s fear, and if there’s one thing she’s learned from her father’s death, it’s that there are some obstacles even love can’t conquer.

Flight school is over.

This is war.

New Military Romance from Rebecca Yarros in Hallowed Ground (Book Four) of the
Flight & Glory Series releasing January 25th!

Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/1OUj7Gi

hallowed ground

 

 

About the Author

rebeccaRebecca Yarros is a hopeless romantic and lover of all things chocolate, coffee, and Paleo. In addition to being a mom, military wife, and blogger, she can never choose between Young Adult and New Adult fiction, so she writes both. She’s a graduate of Troy University, where she studied European history and English, but still holds out hope for an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Her blog, The Only Girl Among Boys, has been voted the Top Military Mom Blog the last two years, and celebrates the complex issues surrounding the military life she adores.
When she’s not writing, she’s tying on hockey skates for her kids, or sneaking in some guitar time. She is madly in love with her army-aviator husband of eleven years. They finally can call Colorado home along with their gaggle of rambunctious kiddos and snoring English Bulldog.

Stalk Rebecca here:

Website: http://www.rebeccaelizabethyarros.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RebeccaElizabethYarros

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/327562767450842/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RebeccaYarros

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rebeccayarros/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7539785.Rebecca_Yarros

Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rebecca-Yarros/e/B00HYKBU1W/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1449029619&sr=8-2-ent

Adam Dunn….Series Spotlight, Excerpt, & Author Q&A

“Dunn has brilliantly tapped into our deepest fear of what tomorrow holds and crafted a unique brand of future noir.”

–John Burdett, author of Bangkok Haunts and Vulture Peak

 


Screenshot 2015-12-09 20.37.35

 

NEW YORK CITY’S DARKEST FEARS HAVE ARRIVED

It’s the near future and New York City as we know it is an alternate universe away. Violence and corruption lurk around every corner and a new wave of organized crime rules the streets. Author Adam Dunn’s New York is like nothing we know yet possesses an alarming air of familiarity and warning for what might come. Race riots, terrorist threats, a collapsing economy, warring political parties and widespread distrust in all institutions rule the land. Every day is a fight for survival. With his fast-paced new series (Dunn Books; Nov. 15, 2015), Dunn forces readers to wonder—just how close are we to stumbling into the same fate?


RIVERS OF GOLD

“Fans of gritty noir fiction, whether it be mystery or SF, should find this one very much to their liking.”

Booklist

 

In a violent, decaying New York City torn by financial collapse, race riots and a surging crime wave, an underworld economy of illegal nightclubs linked by a web of taxicabs is thriving. But there’s trouble in this dark paradise: Renny, a young fashion photographer who moves drugs through the taxi network for the party circuit, is forced to step up his game to a dangerous degree by his boss, Reza, the local frontman for an international crime syndicate that’s looking to take over the city. Renny is soon in the crosshairs of his boss and Detective Sixto Santiago, who’s part of an experimental unit in the NYPD using undercover taxicabs to try to crack down on the drug trade keeping the prohibited party circuit afloat. But Santiago’s just been partnered with a strange new arrival to the team, Everett More, who, he soon realizes is anything but a cop. From the dank, dark garages of the city’s taxi trade to the glittering playpens of its richest and most powerful, Rivers of Gold is a ride like no other. Climb inside…the meter’s running…

 

THE BIG DOGS

“Exquisitely researched, flawlessly narrated, The Big Dogs is great storytelling. I loved it.”

–Deon Meyer, author of Trackers and Heart of the Hunter

 

In the explosive sequel to Rivers of Gold, the unorthodox team of Santiago and More return to face a more grueling—and gruesome—challenge. In a savage paroxysm of mob violence, the founder of an uber-rich hedge fund is brutally killed, and an encrypted hard drive containing a list of high-profile clients in a highly illegal investment scam goes missing. His death opens a can of worms for both the NYPD and the Treasury Department, as it turns out the victim was already on the radar for a range of financial crimes, including funding terrorism. Now, Santiago and More are thrust into the unwilling embrace of the elite Organized Crime Intelligence Division, along with old comrades the Narc Sharks and an unwelcome Federal femme fatale named Liza Marrone from the treasury department. Santiago’s unwieldy team has to race against the clock to find the hard drive—and its elusive bearer, a 29-year-old hacker named Gianni Gianduja who’s now running for his life—before a plot to place bombs throughout the city’s bus network goes off, killing untold thousands and triggering a stock market crash that will bring the beleaguered city down once and for all. Don’t be caught waiting at the bus stop—The Big Dogs are on the prowl.

 

 

SAINT UNDERGROUND

“Can a thriller be seriously dystopian and fun at the same time? Saint Underground manages to be both, with all the quick, deft aplomb of a literary hat trick.”

–Joseph Kanon, author of Leaving Berlin and The Good German

 

“Saint Underground is a fast-paced, entertaining and an astonishing prediction about the threat to our nation’s political and social institutions… Novelist  Adam Dunn has a financial expert’s grasp of hidden dark money flowing into the U.S. from criminal coffers and the writer’s gift of being able to translate it into an entertaining yarn.”

–James McTague, author of Crapshoot Investing and former “DC Current” columnist for BARRON’S

Election 2016—New York City is ground zero. The Democratic and Republican parties are holding their conventions here—simultaneously. Illicit campaign money sloshes through a new underground bank in the city’s newest subway tunnel. But this campaign isn’t just about votes—the parties are truly at war. Santiago and More have uncovered a plot to hijack not just the presidential conventions, but the nation itself. One party looks to launch a bailout program that will effectively bring New York under total Federal control; the other side has countered by hiring an embittered Special Forces veteran. This high-tech warrior, codenamed ODIN, is More’s nemesis, and Santiago’s team tops his hit list. As the feud between the parties erupts into open warfare, Santiago and More fight their way from the lofty spires of the city’s cathedrals down into the darkest parts of its subway system. There is no judgment, only survival, for both sinners and saints—underground.

EXCERPT FROM THE BIG DOGS

BACK IN THE HIGH LIFE AGAIN

Two months to the day after Thanksgiving, Miss Grace Yunqué, of East Elmhurst, Queens, rose late on her day off, fixed herself brunch, then boarded the westbound M60 bus at 23rd Avenue.

She preferred taking the bus whenever she could. The subways saved time, but were fraught with risk. Despite a heavy police presence underground at key times and terminals, the cop coverage tended to thin out to nothingness towards the outer boroughs, and unless there was someone with a badge and gun on the platform with her, she simply didn’t feel safe on the subways any more.

Besides, the bus was fast, thanks to the Mayor’s enforcement of bus-only lanes across major bridges. And it was comfortable. Miss Grace Yunqué had no idea which kind of bus she rode along the M60 route (a slightly older Orion VII Next Generation semi-low floor hybrid electric built by Daimler Commercial Buses), but it was quite good. She had seen much, much worse in her day.

As usual, the bus looped north through LaGuardia International Airport, meandering by the Marine Air Terminal on Bowery Bay, before settling down for its long westward cruise along Astoria Boulevard. As the bus arced out across the Robert Kennedy Bridge spanning the Hell Gate section of the East River, she looked down upon Wards and Randalls Islands far below, dusted with snow. She was mentally planning her own route. While her main business of the day was routine (a followup visit to Dr. Lazar regarding her condition), the stop she planned to make afterwards was anything but.

Miss Grace Yunqué was a homely, portly Latina of Peruvian descent in her late fifties who was starting to feel gravity’s pull more acutely. Her arches were falling, her heels ached at night, and her ass seemed to spread wider with each passing year. Her husband was dead, her children grown and struggling with families of their own. What little brightness there was in her life came from her grand-nephew José, and her Pomeranian, Hector.

Still, it wasn’t all bad. She had worked for years keeping the books of a small firm that made spare parts for servicing city buses. The benefits were good, and she had her late husband’s small pension coming in as well, which she diligently invested in TIPS, inflation-protected bonds that had been adjusted for the extended period of low rates following the crash. Miss Grace Yunqué did not know when the city’s fortunes would take a turn for the better, but she intended to have a toe in the water when they did. She believed the city would rise again—someday, perhaps not even in her lifetime, but someday—and she wanted to have something to bequeath to her darling little niňo José.

Which was why she was heading into Manhattan this morning, to report the goings-on she’d been seeing in the company’s financial statements for months now. She knew fraud when she saw it, and she intended to cash in by reporting it.

If all went according to plan. The list of things that could go wrong and make life very ugly and perhaps even short for her was long. Thinking about that threatened to aggravate her condition, and she began the series of relaxation exercises Dr. Lazar had taught her.

By the time she alighted from the bus at 106th and Broadway in Manhattan, she was feeling better, although a slightly anxious tingle remained stubbornly in the back of her mind. She walked stiffly, turning the collar of her coat up against the scything wind, along the block and a half to Riverside Drive. She would ride the M5 Limited downtown. There was no way she would ride the M104 bus, infamous throughout the city as a rolling freak barge, upon which legions of the insane rode aimlessly up and down Broadway. And there was no way she was going underground, especially not on her day off.

She was lucky; the bus (a much older C40LF from New Flyer Industries running on compressed natural gas) was less than two blocks away when she reached the stop. There were no protective kiosks along Riverside Drive (she figured the people who lived on it were rich enough to stop the city from erecting them), and the January wind coming across the Hudson River was merciless.

It was slower going in Manhattan. The M5 route took it eastward along West 72nd Street to Broadway, where it joined the slow southbound trudge of traffic to the merry-go-round of Columbus Circle, from whence it chugged down Central Park South to Fifth Avenue (how sad the Plaza looked, she thought, all barricaded against the throngs of homeless people who had built one of the city’s biggest shantytowns here), where it turned southward again, stopping briefly in front of the long-closed Bergdorf-Goodman flagship store before making the long final leg downtown to South Ferry.

The session in Dr. Lazar’s midtown office was uneventful. Fortified with a renewed prescription and Dr. Lazar’s infectious good cheer, she boarded the crosstown M57 bus (an articulated Nova LFS hybrid) for a (free!) ride west, towards the Hudson River.

Her nerve began to flag as she stood outside the station amongst the rows of prowl cars, beaten-up taxicabs, and ugly three-wheeled ATVs parked at a rakish angle that clearly marked the block as a Cop Shop. Still, she had chosen this precinct to be the one furthest from her own, at least on a map. No one she knew worked here; certainly no one she knew could afford to live here. She straightened her back, cinched her coat collar up under her chin, and strode purposefully inside. Miss Grace Yunqué was not a quitter.

The inside of the station (she would reflect later) was a good approximation of her idea of Hell. The floors and walls were a horrid shade of institutional green, the air was rank with a dozen unidentifiable odors, everyone wearing a uniform looked haggard and miserable, and the rest (they must be the criminals!) looked no different from the homeless on the street. She began to reconsider her decision to come here.

No one seemed the slightest bit interested in her, and she could not seem to find the right officer to speak with, despite asking in English and Spanish. She wandered through the precinct unnoticed and unmonitored. No one cared. Eventually she found herself standing in the doorway of what appeared to be a run-down gym. Two raggedy-looking men in leather and combat boots, their badges and guns hanging loosely from their clothing, lay sprawled on the incline benches, watching HGTV on an old cathode-ray TV hanging precariously from the ceiling near a window (through which she could discern the sort of illegal, jerry-rigged cable hookup common in her own neighborhood). Neither cop paid her any attention at all. She approached them with caution, for she noticed that despite their languor, each kept a hand near his pistol. She stopped when she was close enough to read their police IDs, one of which said Liesl, the other Turse. The clean-cut mug shots on their photo IDs looked nothing like the mangy cops who wore them. When she asked them, neither one of them even turned to look at her. Neither even blinked. Her uneasiness was growing, and that threatened her condition. She moved quietly back outside.

At last she was told with whom she should speak. She was directed to a tiny office at the far end of a room full of more scruffy-looking cops (didn’t anyone shave or get haircuts anymore?), several of whom were standing around the fattest, ugliest, most slovenly-looking man she had ever seen, who was talking loudly with his mouth full, freely spilling pieces of whatever he was eating down his shirtfront. He was the only one wearing a tie. She skirted him widely and knocked on the door of the tiny office behind him, to which was tacked a homemade business card that read:

Detective Sixto Santiago CAB Group One NYPD

Upon being bade entry, her anxiety abated somewhat. The policeman sitting behind the desk was a handsome, dark-skinned Latino (Peruvian?), with broad shoulders and large hands. He was clean-shaven and neatly dressed, with a freshly razored haircut. She hoped her José would grow into as fine-looking a specimen as this man someday. He gestured for her to sit, and addressed her in good clear Spanish.

Something was bothering him, she could tell. He seemed hemmed in by the towering piles of paper on his desk and the shelves behind him, but it was more than that. His blasé efficiency seemed carefully orchestrated, his disciplined demeanor (not once did he look up from his computer at her) put on. Miss Grace Yunqué discerned a heaviness of soul in the policeman, a weary resignation and cynicism so unfortunately common to young men today. It was the times they lived in, she wanted to tell him. Don’t let it bring you down. There’s hope, there’s always hope, she yearned to say. She longed to mother him, to hold his big callused hands and tell him everything would be all right.

This mood disintegrated the moment she mentioned the man who had directed her to this office. The policeman’s large hands froze in midair above his keyboard. The man’s eyes (oh, big brown eyes like her little niňo!) grabbed onto hers and held them in a fiery clutch. Slowly and deliberately, he put his hands on the desk and levered his massive upper body over them towards her (grande, mi calidad, she thought, a weight lifter for sure!) in a manner that was anything but friendly. She felt her pulse rising and sweat prickling her scalp. Bad signs for her condition. She tried to affect a nonchalance she did not feel.

“él pareció no diferente que los demás, como estos en el gimnasio,” she said meekly, withering under the detective’s pitiless glare. Her voice was weakening, her knees trembled. She was well into the danger zone now, she knew, but there was nowhere to hide.

“Describe him,” growled the cop, who now seemed to her less hero, more thug. She pressed her legs together and flexed her toes, trying desperately to keep her mind off her condition.

“He looked like a bum,” she managed, “or an NYU student. He said you were definitely the man I should see.”

The clash of expressions now fighting for control of the detective’s face was frightening to her. His jaws clenched, he bared his teeth, and snorted loudly through his nostrils like an enraged bull. He terrified her. And this triggered her condition.

Miss Grace Yunqué suffered from Psychogenic Urination Disorder, or PUD (“Don’t worry, Grace,” Dr. Lazar had assured his jittery patient, “Together, you and me, we’ll beat this thing!”). In her particular case, sudden stress caused her to urinate, copiously. Which she now did, in a darkening downpour from her stockings into her shoes, and thence outward in a spreading puddle on the office floor. The harder she tried to constrict the flow, the greater it became, and adding to her degradation, the asparagus omelette she’d made for herself earlier now betrayed her, filling the room with a brute-force putrescence.

As unnerved as she was, she was appalled by the bizarre nature of what the big detective did next: drawing himself to his full six-and-change height, he cocked his arms, his biceps straining the sleeves of his jacket, balled his hands into huge hard fists and screamed, “MORE!!!”

 

Adam Dunn Q&A

  • Your series has been described as ‘tech-noir.’ What does this genre entail?

This was an invention of one of my early blurbers for ROG. I don’t know if this is an extant category or not. If I had to guess I’d say this was some subset of genre fiction (i.e., “mystery”, “thriller” etc.) featuring content of darker and more gritty variety, wherein contemporary technology merely augments age-old dilemmas of why humans keep finding themselves in the situations they do, and why they keep making the same mistakes they do while trying to get out of them. George Alec Effinger, Philip K. Dick and William Gibson exemplified this and were branded “cyber-punk” for their efforts. Genre is in the eye of the reviewer.

  • What inspired you to write this series?

I married in 2006, and wanted to get some books of my own out into the market following nearly a decade of writing articles on a freelance basis. I’d just had a four-part news series on the taxi industry published by Cobrapost.com, and was considering turning it into a nonfiction book. At the same time, I had an idea for a police procedural featuring a cop in a cab. By this time, I was also writing a blog called The Bunny Papers satirizing the confluence of political and financial bungling that characterized the ’07 real estate crash. When this snowballed into the stock market crash of ’08, I knew I had not just one novel, but a whole series borne of the chaos of those dark days. I knew there would be others who would write nonfiction accounts of the period, and they’d do it better than I could.

  • What research or personal experience allowed you to write so precisely about the New York cab industry?

To do this, I spent a lot of time with garage owners, mini-fleet owners, shop foremen, union reps, medallion loan brokers, top TLC officials, and, of course, cab drivers.

  • There is a shocking degree of excess and debauchery in the New York City streets you created. Is this where we are today—or where we’re headed?

If you think this is shocking you should have seen it in the ‘80s, which were every bit as bad as the ‘70s, just more colorful. My view of things to come, while admittedly dire, derives entirely from current situations, as well as extrapolations of current political, economic, and social trends to what I believe are very plausible, very attainable degrees.

  • What was the inspiration behind the Renny’s character?

In the ‘90s I watched several generations of young men make appalling decisions, about money, about work, about politics and people. They were absolutely convinced they were right, until they weren’t. Renny is for them.

  • What was the inspiration behind Santiago’s character?

Santiago was my original cop in the cab, but at that point he had little form or depth. It was only once the crash and More were fully realized that Santiago took shape as a voice of reason in a time of chaos, and an example of how to thrive in an age of decay. A survivor.

  • There isn’t a clear hero in the story, so who would you consider the ‘hero’?

I leave that to readers to decide. Some have told me that Santiago is a hero, while More is an antihero. Others vote for McKeutchen. Some have even said that NYC itself is the hero, for surviving such a fate as I created for it.

  • Do your characters—particularly Renny—get what they deserve?

They would argue lethally about “deserve”. No one gets entirely what they want, in my books.

  • Is Renny supposed to come across as a misogynist or does he push women like N and La away so they won’t get hurt?

Renny is played and betrayed by the women in his life. He doesn’t push them away—he thinks he’s in control, even as he’s clearly losing it. Such is the privilege of youth.

  • In your writing there is a beautiful, dizzying use of acronyms and technical jargon. What do you value more: plot or presentation?

One cannot exist without the other, not in this form and length.

  • The books seem to cautionary tales of where society might be headed. What feelings do you want readers to walk away with after reading the book?

Don’t be impulsive, reactionary, or thin-skinned. Beware the hidden dynamic of orthodoxy belying any movement trumpeting individuality, rights, special needs or interests. This is an old power game, a long con. Hone your skills, play to your strengths. Vote with your head before your heart, and if you can’t do that, stick with your feet, they may well be your last best resort.

  • If you could change anything about this series, what would it be?

Nothing. Just wish I’d been able to start it sooner.

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ADAM DUNN is the author of the novels Rivers of Gold, The Big Dogs, and Saint Underground, the forthcoming novel The Unfathomable Deep, and co-writer (with Eric Anderson) of the forthcoming novel Osiris. He spent years as a freelance writer cultivating an extensive series of networks among the military, intelligence, law enforcement, and financial communities. His byline has appeared in 18 publications in four countries. Some of those include: CNN and BBC News (online); Inc., Paper, SOMA, and Publishers Weekly magazines (glossy); and the San Francisco Chronicle and South China Morning Post (newsprint). He and his family have left New York City.

For more information, visit: http://www.dunnbooks.com/

Flame and Ink by Carrie Ann Ryan….Blog Tour Stop & Guest Post

Flame and Ink Blog Tour Carrie Ann

 

 

FlameandInk_72

 

FLAME AND INK BLURB:

From the New York Times bestselling author of the Montgomery Ink and Talon Pack series comes an anthology filled with deleted scenes and extras from many of her fan-favorite series.

 

Vowed in Ink (A Montgomery Ink Novella)

It’s a very important day for Sassy, Rafe, and Ian. The three are ready to form their union in body and soul as well as legally for one of the pairs. Only when the day comes, not everything turns out how they’ve planned. The triad will have to look deep into their hearts and remember why they fought for each other not once, but twice in their lives so they can find their true happy ending.

Delicate Arrival (A Montgomery Ink Novella)

A look into the lives of Austin and Sierra as they welcome their baby to the world. They’ve been through hell together and now have one more trial to pass before they can keep going.

Edward and Pat’s Day Off (A Redwood Pack Short Story)

A look into the Alpha pair’s day off.

Babysitting Finn and Brie (A Redwood Pack Short Story)

A fun scene with Edward and his grandchildren.

On the Other Side (A Redwood Pack Short Story)

A bonus scene featuring Edward and Pat.

Bewitching (A Holiday, Montana Short Story)

A cute bonus scene with Jordan and Matt.

At Home with Cupid (A Holiday, Montana Short Story)

A look at Tyler and Abigail’s evenings with their new babies.

A Wedding with Wings (A Dante’s Circle Short Story)

Lily and Shade’s wedding.

The Meeting (A Dante’s Circle Short Story)

Jamie introduces her men to her parents…but all is not what it seems.

Author Note: Many of these scenes have been featured in Carrie Ann Ryan’s newsletters and on her website in the past. You can still read some of them for free on her website. This anthology is so people can have easy access to this material as well as the new bonus content. Happy Reading!

 

BUY LINKS:

Amazon http://amzn.to/1OU5bdG
iBooks http://apple.co/1LgEfje
Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/1X66fNl
Kobo http://bit.ly/1X0FZUO
ARe http://bit.ly/1RkBHbp

 

Guest Post

I love taking a look behind the scenes. As a reader, I gobble up deleted scenes, bonus scenes, and any bit of information I can get from my favorite authors. Because I love it so far, I decided to do a few scenes of my own from my own books. In the past couple of years, I’ve posted some deleted scenes that couldn’t make it into books because they were about side characters as well as some new scenes about what happens after the HEA.

Readers begged me to put them on Amazon or iBooks so they could have them for keeps and I figured once I had enough, I would do something for them. I LOVE that my readers want more. It humbles me and makes me giddy all at the same time.

Flame and Ink is a collection of many stories and most of my series. I love my characters and I love going back and seeing what they’re up to. I hope you love them too.

 

About Carrie Ann Ryan:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Carrie Ann Ryan never thought she’d be a writer. Not really. No, she loved math and science and even went on to graduate school in chemistry. Yes, she read as a kid and devoured teen fiction and Harry Potter, but it wasn’t until someone handed her a romance book in her late teens that she realized that there was something out there just for her. When another author suggested she use the voices in her head for good and not evil, The Redwood Pack and all her other stories were born.

Carrie Ann is a bestselling author of over twenty novels and novellas and has so much more on her mind (and on her spreadsheets *grins*) that she isn’t planning on giving up her dream anytime soon

 

 

Fahrenheit by Alex Rosa…. Blog Tour

Fahrenheit [366765]

Fahrenheit Synopsis:

 Lauren Michaels is exhausted with the push and pull of copy editing for Los Angeles’s woman’s magazine, Frenzy, which caters to pop culture, style, and above all, sex.

She wants to write for the magazine rather than edit, but her boss is convinced that Lauren’s conservative tendencies won’t fit in with the risqué nature of what Frenzy is about.

Convinced to make her mark, Lauren begs for the chance to prove herself.

Her mission? To investigate the growing popularity of sex clubs in Los Angeles, and figure out how the sensual underworld functions.

Out of her element, Lauren starts her search with pen and paper in hand at a local sex shop, hoping she’ll find a trail that leads to the lairs of sex and fetishes. Instead, it leads her to Nathan Sanders. He’s daunting, charming, and a little too dark and mysterious for her taste, but Lauren knows he’s what she needs as her way in.

What she doesn’t see coming is that Nathan is all too willing to invite her to a nightclub she’s only ever heard stories about, and also the fact that Nathan know’s Lauren doesn’t have a clue what she’s getting herself into.

This could be fun, they said. There’s no harm in it, they agreed.

Little do they know, a little research can serve up some unexpected results.

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/fahrenheit

iBooks: https://goo.gl/JvlwZ2

B&N: http://goo.gl/s3tKCc

Kobo: https://goo.gl/D0WzCj

Goodreads: https://goo.gl/xygPMg

 

 Teaser 3 [366766]

EXCERPT

 

I’m trying to find a way to level the playing field, but nothing comes to mind, and nothing seems to make sense.

Nathan is here. In public. He likes me nervous. He also likes my honesty. And he totally kissed me. In public. He also called my best friend a jackass. Did I forget to mention he kissed me? In public? Oh, and on occasion we go to a sex nightclub, and he does mind blowing things to my body … for my research.

As if reading my wandering thoughts, and steering them where he sees fit, he pulls me in for another shocking kiss, only tail spinning my confusion into a twenty-car-pile up on the highway of my brain.

I can’t help myself as I kiss back with confusion, and a deep-seated frustration fuels my words that I manage between our lips, “You’re insane, and you get some sick pleasure messing with me.”

He pulls away, nodding his confirmation. Is it to insanity, or to messing with me? Hard to tell.

His hand slides over my shoulder and down the side of my torso before he lifts it back to his side of the towel, putting blatant distance between us, and I wish the goose bumps weren’t so obvious as they pebble over the skin he’s just touched.

“I have a request,” he says a little too sweetly, and I’m admittedly too interested in that tone, and his effortless switch in bravado. I can barely keep up, and I worry he knows it.

“Really? I can’t imagine what that’ll be,” I chide, wiping my mouth of his recent assault, trying to pretend I’m basking in the sunshine, and not his stare.

I don’t want him to leave yet, though, but he’s already shifting his body as if he’s getting ready to.

He leans forward, his eyes heated, his lips soft and swollen as they brush against the shell of my ear, igniting my adrenaline before whispering, “I want you to touch yourself tonight, and I dare you not to think of me.”

Nate’s mouth spine-tinglingly nips at my earlobe, which apparently shares a nerve ending with the one between my legs.

Dirty talk is something I’ve never encountered … ever, but I think I like it.

He’s clambering up, smugly smirking, adjusting his swim trunks again without uttering a goodbye, because apparently his work here is done, and I try not to turn into a blabbering idiot.

“Y-You don’t play fair!” I shout as he grabs for his surfboard and begins walking away, shooting me that dammed half smile before he’s heading back to the water. The bastard even winks with his teeth clamped down over his bottom lip, forcing all the heat in my cheeks to rush south.

From surprise visits, to life advice, to naughty requests; how the hell do I wrap my head around any of that?

I’m hot and bothered all over again, and it’s not because I’ve been in the sun too long.

I try not to watch him run back to the water and trace my eyes over the lines of his ass in his swim trunks, even though the sight could easily be worshipped. I’d go to church every damn day if that’s what was waiting for me on the pews.

Oh god, I need to get a grip. My catholic mother’s cross is probably burning.

Regardless, one question can’t help but flash like bright neon in my mind: How come Nate’s allowed to break all the rules, but I can’t?

GIVEAWAY

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Alex Rosa Bio:

 

Alex Rosa [366762]

Alex Rosa lives in San Diego, California. When she isn’t scouring city parks or cafe’s to write she is more than likely trying to convince her friends to join her on her next adventure. A sufferer of wanderlust, she is always looking for a new mountain to climb, a canyon to hike, or a plane to board. Her resume consists of coroner, to working at a zoo, and most recently as an executive assistant, but finds her home amongst words, whether it be in books, or in film. Her obsessions are on the brink of bizarre, but that’s just the way she likes it.

Links:

Website: http://www.authorarosa.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/author.arosa/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/oh_alexrosa

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/alexxrosa/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/alexrosa

Instagram: https://instagram.com/oh_alex

Tumblr: http://aarosa.tumblr.com/

Fahrenheit BT Banner [366763]

 

Author Guest Post & Holiday Fun with Penny Watson

 

I’m so excited to have Penny on the blog today. I adore her Klaus Brothers series — it’s everything I want in a holiday romance topped off with her quirky and whimsical style! Penny’s storytelling helps put the Merry into Merry Christmas for me and the Happy into Happy Holidays. I hope you check her out. (Pssst! Both the new Klaus brothers novella AND the box set of the first three are only 99 cents at Amazon right now!)

Thanks!
Stacey

______

 

Hi! I’m Penny Watson, author of The Klaus Brothers, a holiday romance series about the five sexy sons of Santa. This Christmas I released Book #4, Sweet Cinderella.

 

Sweet Cinderella Novella Cover

 

Here’s the low-down on the Klaus Brothers…

 

PENNY WATSON’S KLAUS BROTHERS SERIES CHEAT SHEET

AKA, Who The Heck Are All These People?

Nicholas Klaus Senior = Santa Claus. Married to Alena Klaus. CEO of Klaus Enterprises. Fitness buff, runs marathons and works out like a boss. Has a snowy-white goatee and is built like Paul Bunyan.

Alena Klaus = Mrs. Santa. The cute, pixie-like matriarch of the Klaus family. Bohemian style of dress. Awful cook. Also loves to work out, especially triathlons.

Nicholas Klaus (SWEET INSPIRATION) = Oldest son. Highly disciplined master pastry chef at Klaus Küche. Specialty is Christmas cookies. Big beard, wears glasses.

Sven Klaus (SWEET ADVENTURE) = Second oldest son. Chief Toy Designer and Woodworker. Tree-hugging, Birkenstock-wearing hippie. Resembles a blond lumberjack.

Wolfgang Klaus (SWEET DESTINY, 2016) = Middle son. Director of Charitable Donations at Klaus Enterprises. General do-gooder. Spends a lot of time in pediatric hospitals and third world countries. Tall, dark, and handsome.

Gregor Klaus (SWEET CINDERELLA, 2015) = Second youngest son. Financial guru for Klaus Enterprises. Lives in Manhattan. Likes designer duds and expensive coffee. Goatee and Rolex not optional.

Oskar Klaus (SWEET MAGIK) = Youngest son. Director of Elfin Resources. Green-haired punk. Extreme snowboarder. Reformed Bad Boy.

 

***If you want to see my inspiration for the brothers and their stories,

check out this fun Pinterest board!***

 

candy canes

 

Needless to say, I love Christmas! Here’s my idea of the perfect way to celebrate the holiday…

 

  1. Start a roaring fire in the fireplace. (I usually cheat and use a Duraflame log).
  2. Heat up a mug of spiked hot cider. I mix apple cider with cinnamon sticks and spices, heat gently, strain out the spice mix, and then add a healthy dose of Laird’s Applejack.
  3. Assemble plate of Christmas cookies. Top choices are frosted gingerbread and Mexican wedding cakes. Yum!
  4. Turn on holiday music. My favorite is Celine Dion’s These Are Special Times—don’t judge!
  5. Snuggle up in cozy chair with my dachshund Lucy and a soft blanket.
  6. Watch a festive Christmas film such as Olive the Other Reindeer. It’s a classic!
  7. Read romantic holiday story. I have a huge collection, but some favorites include An Affair Before Christmas (Eloisa James), A Virgin River Christmas (Robyn Carr), and Under the Mistletoe (Mary Balogh).
  8. Have a present-wrapping competition with my husband. He always wins. He’s a perfectionist!
  9. Turn off all the lights except for the tree, and fall asleep waiting for Santa.
  10. Make sure to turn on hidden GoPro to film Santa leaving gifts. (And yes, my kids did this one year without telling me. Oops!)

 

Lucy Snuggle hot apple cider

 

To find out more about the Klaus Brothers, please check out the series page on my website, and sign up for my newsletter for release information and give-aways!

Penny Head Shot

Also, I love to chat on social media. Here are some places I hang out…

Facebook

Goodreads

Twitter

Pinterest

Blog

Here’s the book blurb for Sweet Cinderella (A Christmas Novella). It’s only 99 cents right now at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Kobo. Merry Christmas!

 

Just one night.

Hannah De Luca Andersen has been battered by the worst year ever, but even that can’t squash her love of the holiday season. She has one night to forget life’s hardships and enjoy the magic of an elegant Christmas gala. If she’s really lucky, maybe a handsome prince will ask her to dance.

Gregor Klaus, Director of Finance for Klaus Enterprises, has completely lost his Christmas spirit. One look at Hannah thaws his icy demeanor and gives him a new sense of purpose. If he can only figure out the key to Hannah’s heart, he might have the best Christmas of his life.

But one night isn’t enough for Gregor Klaus. He won’t be satisfied with anything less than forever.

 

EXCERPT for Sweet Cinderella:

Chapter One

Ice. Cold.

Gregor Alric Klaus, fourth son of Nicholas and Alena Klaus, Director of Finance for Klaus Enterprises, knew what his colleagues whispered behind his back.

Cold, calculating, ruthless.

Unemotional, detached, relentless.

There was a reason he was a formidable opponent in the boardroom, and it wasn’t because he was a nice guy.

Gregor Klaus never lost the game. He played to win, every time.

Because of his financial expertise, Klaus Enterprises had established itself as a powerhouse in the industry. The company that produced handcrafted toys was unparalleled in quality and distribution. The company that brought so many children happiness owed its success to the most coldhearted brother in the Klaus family.

Even as a child, Gregor displayed an uncanny talent with numbers. While his brothers baked gingerbread and carved toys, he pored over the books with their elfin accountant, assessing each season, calculating ways to cut overhead, predicting trends. His father didn’t know quite what to do with him, so he set him up as Director of Finance and moved him to New York.

It was a perfect fit.

Gregor thrived in the urban environment. He loved the architecture, the cutting edge technology, the competition within the industry. He lived in a sparse apartment, adorned with a minimalist décor. He dressed in the height of fashion and enjoyed his gadgets. Even his dates—when he found time to squeeze in a social life—were elegant, tasteful. Cold. His brothers enjoyed an old-fashioned lifestyle in the North Pole, but Gregor had assimilated into the affluent world of Manhattan, a world away from Pfefferkuchen cookies and elfin Magik.

He lived for two things—his job and his family. Family loyalty was everything. He knew how much his parents and brothers depended on him. He was a rock in a sea of chaos. And how could Glasdorf—their town in the North Pole—be anything but chaotic? They lived within a magical ice wall, hidden from the rest of the Sudenwelt, with hundreds of elves. His brother Oskar did his best to control the unruly bunch, but it was a daily challenge. Between unpredictable spells and an unlimited supply of eggnog, the elves in Glasdorf were quite a handful.

All of their lives were currently mired in turmoil. Nicholas and Lucy had just welcomed their first baby into the family. Sven was secretly planning to open a furniture studio—and only Gregor knew the truth. Oskar and Kiana had adopted an elfin Bändiger and were building the North Pole’s first library. And his parents—Santa and Alena—had a full schedule packed with triathlons and philanthropic projects. Tonight was one such event, which his brother Wolfgang had been organizing for months. The New York Children’s Literacy gala promised to be a huge success, thanks to Gregor’s financial support and Wolf’s attention to detail.

Gregor wove through the crowds on Fifth Avenue, dodging shoppers and Salvation Army buckets. Bitter winds tugged at his coat and reddened his cheeks. He stopped and glanced at a window display. A fat Santa smiled at him and waved, its robotic arm twitching with Christmas cheer.

Mocking him.

It stood to reason that the Klaus family had some natural holiday generosity in their DNA. His father was filled with compassion, his mother was sympathetic to children all over the world, his brothers poured their hearts and souls into the toys and sweet treats and acts of philanthropy and caretaking of the elves.

Emotional, kind, and thoughtful—those were traits appropriate for the Klaus family. Those were traits nestled firmly in the genetic code of his parents and siblings. In some ironic twist of fate, those characteristics had skipped right over him. Nothing about Gregor Klaus was warm or cuddly.

He was the polar opposite of Santa Claus in every way.

He’d promised to meet his family at the affair. He needed this walk first, striding along the icy Manhattan sidewalks. He did this every day. The bracing wind reminded him he was still alive, not a robot but a man. He kept hoping that immersing himself in a sea of humanity would help him to find his own humanity.

He kept hoping.

His family hadn’t noticed that anything was wrong. They were distracted by life’s adventures, and none of them knew what Gregor hid behind his impeccable clothes, well-trimmed goatee, and self-confident expression. That now, in addition to ice cold, he felt numb. He peered into the frosted holiday windows on Fifth Avenue and felt absolutely…nothing.

Yes, it certainly was ironic.

Santa’s son was a cold, hard bastard with nary an ounce of Christmas cheer anywhere to be found.

 

 

 

 

First Touch by Laurelin Paige…. Excerpt Blitz

first touch december 10th [312098]

Now available for Pre-order!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1jxIMYq

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1InTooo

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1QcYftH

iBooks: http://apple.co/1QcYmW7

Google Play: http://bit.ly/1lWuKkT

first touch cover [312101]

REEVE IS COMING!

Meet Reeve & Emily in First Touch releasing December 29th!

Blurb

When Emily Wayborn goes home to visit her mom while on hiatus from her hit TV show, she receives a voicemail from her former best friend, Amber. Though the two were once notorious party girls, they haven’t spoken in years. Although the message might sound benign to anyone else, Amber uses a safe word that Emily recognizes, a word they always used to get out of sticky situations during their wild days. And what’s more chilling than the voicemail: it turns out that Amber has gone missing.

Determined to track down her friend, Emily follows a chain of clues that lead her to the enigmatic billionaire Reeve Sallis, a hotelier known for his shady dealings and play boy reputation. Now, in order to find Amber, Emily must seduce Reeve to learn his secrets and discover the whereabouts of her friend. But as she finds herself more entangled with him, she finds she’s drawn to Reeve for more than just his connection to Amber, despite her growing fear that he may be the enemy. When she’s forced to choose where her loyalty lies, how will she decide between saving Amber and saving her heart?

first touch teaser 3 [312099]

Excerpt

The first time I shared a man with Amber had been on my seventeenth birthday.

She’d been hanging around the neighborhood for the better part of the six months before that, and we’d become friends. We had the same taste in food and music and movies and, unlike the other girls we knew, we both preferred a line of coke to a bowl of weed. “Champagne taste,” Amber would say. “That’s us.”

Though we were both the same age, our lives had been very different. I’d go to school during the day, trying to pretend that my grades were salvageable as she’d watched The Home Shopping Network and ate Cheetos on the neighbor’s couch. Amber had dropped out of high school, and since she’d also runaway from home, no one was pushing her to go while graduation was the one thing my mother demanded of me.

I’d hated everything back then. School. My mother. My neighborhood. My body. Everything but Amber. She’d been fun. Sassy. Sexy. She was electric and electrifying and everything I wanted to be. And she cared for me. Maybe even loved me. If I had gone to a shrink they probably would have said that was why I latched onto her—that I thought of her as the mother mine had never been. I knew how screwed up everything seemed. But who could ever know why a person fell for another? I only knew that I had been dull and dim and that Amber made me less so.

She’d also had things I didn’t. Things that money bought. The clothes she wore were designer, her nails were always done. She’d lowered her panties once to show me her Brazilian. Whenever I’d asked how she paid for things, she’d always answered simply, “My uncle.” Even as we’d grown closer to each other that was all she’d tell me about the mysterious relative.

“For your birthday,” she’d said two days before, “I’ve got a surprise. Plan to spend the weekend with me.”

So that Friday, I slipped out of school early and met Amber at the bus station where she purchased two tickets to Santa Monica. Though I couldn’t get her to give me even a hint as to where we were going or what we were doing, I spent the two-hour bus ride buzzing with excitement. Whatever Amber had in mind, I knew without a doubt that this trip would be the beginning of the next phase of my life. I was ready. I was so ready.

Outside the station in Santa Monica, Amber bummed a smoke off a street musician and I scanned the street, taking in the sights of a place I’d never been. A red convertible parked nearby caught my attention, more specifically, the man leaning against it. He was older, maybe as old as my mother, but attractive. Not because he was all that good looking, exactly—though his body was definitely fit and trim—but because of what he exuded. Confidence. Assurance. Money. He drew my attention, and in the way that a restless, sexually charged young girl often did, I found myself wondering about him. What it would be like to kiss a man like him. What it would feel like to be beneath him. I’d had plenty of sex before. With boys from school. I’d yet to meet one who knew what he was doing, and though I would never have admitted it out loud, I was dying for it, thoughts of it never far from my mind.

When Amber followed the line of my sight, she dropped her cigarette with a squeal and exclaimed, “There he is, Em! Come on.”

“There who is?” I asked as she tugged me toward the very man I’d been staring at.

“My uncle!” After throwing her duffle bag into the back seat, she jumped into the man’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Then she proceeded to make out with him like I’d done on more than one occasion with the boys under the bleachers at school. Never out on a public street. Never with a man who had to shave everyday.

When they had finished their display and Amber was back on her feet again, she made introductions. “Rob this is Emily. Em, Rob.”

He may have said something to me. I didn’t really know because I’d been too busy staring at her, my jaw gaping.

“Oh, Emily, he’s not really my uncle,” she told me as she jumped into the passenger seat. “Get in.”

She’d misread the cause of my surprise. I grinned—only one of the many times I’d grin that day—and climbed in the backseat. If Amber hadn’t been the coolest person I’d ever met before that moment, she’d certainly proven herself now.

first touch teaser 2 [312100]

About the Author:

laurelin paige [312102]

Laurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She’s a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She’s also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn’t do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.

STALK HER:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest

THANK YOU!

Reign by M.N. Forgy…Cover Reveal Trailer

reign full cover [312091]

One bad biker. One gorgeous sheriff.

One intense biker romance.

Reign releases on January 27th!

Now Available for Pre-order

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1PW98BW

iBooks: http://apple.co/1R8tNCO

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1QdBQy7

 

Reign by MN Forgy from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.

 

reign cover [312092]

 

Blurb

As the president of the Sin City Outlaw Motorcycle Club, l I fuck as hard as I ride and rarely go to bed alone.

The women are fast and the violence is intense.

I excel in both.

People either respect me or fear me. I’m not arrogant. It’s just the truth.

I was a king, reigning over Vegas without complication, until one gorgeous sheriff made everything fall apart.

When I saw her, I became a Neanderthal, wanting nothing more than to be between those legs.

I guess that’s where I went wrong, because my reality was shot to hell real

fucking fast.

One kiss caused her to step over that blue line.

One night in her bed made me a traitor.

And now… we’re both screwed.

 

About the Author

m.n. forgy bio [312090]

M.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

 

Bait & Switch by Kendall Ryan….Teaser

RELEASE DAY: February 9th, 2016

 

Bait & Switch

Alphas Undone Book 1

Love is a trap, a trick only other people fall for. Former Navy SEAL Nolan has no such illusions. The only things real in his life are his beloved bulldog and the two women who regularly share his bed. One is light—soft, innocent, and tender touches. The other is dark—and gives him all of the wicked things he craves behind closed doors. It’s not cheating when each is aware of the other. But when he begins to feel much more than he ever bargained for, the order of his carefully crafted world is shaken, and he stands to lose everything.

Nolan thinks we met by chance. We didn’t. I sought him out, seduced him, and in return got the sanctuary I needed to survive. But now, impossibly, I’ve fallen in love with him. I don’t care that he has another lover, because when he finds out who I am, it’s going to ruin any chance I ever had with him anyway. She’s the least of my worries.

Bait & Switch is Book 1 in a new contemporary romance series by Kendall Ryan.

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Exclusive ibooks preorder: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/bait-switch/id1043398083?mt=11

Add to Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27175281-bait-switch

The Mother Road by Meghan Quinn….Cover Reveal

Check out this gorgeous cover of THE MOTHER ROAD by Meghan Quinn! Be sure to read the excerpt too!
THE MOTHER ROAD by Meghan Quinn
NA Romantic Comedy
Release date: January 12, 2016
Cover Designed by: Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae

Blurb:
Never in a million years would I have pictured myself as an axe-wielding, dragon lady, chopping up multi-colored flannel shirts into my very own plaid mulch. But here I am, chopping away my frustrations.

It all started when my brother, Paul, convinced me to go on one last family road trip across the Mother Road with him and my dad.. Just like old times, right? Wrong. What Paul fails to mention is his best man, Porter, will be joining us, who just so happens to be my childhood crush and the man who broke my heart four years ago.

What is supposed to be a fun, family bonding experience across Route 66 turns into a war
of pranks, awkward moments and bathrooms full of dirty flannel shirts and day old beard clippings. Paul’s know-it-all attitude and Porter’s devilish charm brings me to the brink of my sanity on my seven day trek across the United States with three bearded men in a small 1980’s RV.

Excerpt
“Marley, put the axe down and step away from the flannels,” Porter says, hands extended, as if he wants to help.
“You’re not in a good frame of mind. This is not who you are. You’re not an axe wielding psychopath looking to make a pile of long sleeved cotton into your very own plaid colored mulch,” Paul tries to convince her.“Buttons, please put the axe down. We can talk about whatever is bothering you. Please don’t chop up Daddy’s Americana flannel shirt.”

Let’s pause for a second; do you see those three men standing to the side, fear in their eyes, sweat at their temples, with their hands clutched at their waists and their asses tight enough to pop open a bottle of beer?

Yeah, those three, they’re the reason why I’m foaming at the mouth, gripping an axe three sizes too big for my body with my heels dug deep into the wet and muddy ground.

That’s me, Marley McMann, the brunette in the “rustic” orange bridesmaid dress with a bouquet sticking out of my hair and a pile of multi-colored poly-blend barf rags resting in front of me, waiting to be minced into my very own personal hamster shit shavings.

I’m not usually threatening to slice the buttons off of men’s clothing with a lead shiv big enough to cut down a knotty vagina-looking sycamore tree. But I’ve had my limit.

There comes a time in a girl’s life when she has to reach deep down into her soul, clear the pathways of her inner goddess, and let out her nuclear Satan. You know what I’m talking about.

The crazy.

Don’t try to act like you don’t have it; every woman does.

Let me paint you a picture. It’s that time of the month; its shark week, as some may say. The civil war is being reenacted by your ovaries and death is scatted over your fallopian tubes. You’re crippled over in pain on your couch, half a Snickers bar hanging out of your mouth, a heating pad pressed against your innards, and a blanket wrapped around you as if you’re a cocktail wiener in a Pillsbury croissant. The Hallmark Channel is airing that Mario Lopez movie you’ve been dying to see and not because the plot looks good, but because you want to reminisce on your Saved by the Bell days. Mario is the only thing getting you through this time of need, that and the chocolate drool slowly dripping into the back of your throat.

You’re content, minus the battlefield in your uterus, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the mister in your life flops on the couch, causing a ripple within your cocoon. Your heating pad shifts and your Snickers bar falls to the ground. The swoon-worthy shot of Mario with his shirt off gets switched to some stupid sporting game just as the mister lifts his ass in your direction and blasts two large farts.

Can you feel the monster start to awaken?

You try to remain calm; you tell yourself it’s going to be alright…until one simple crack of his knuckles rings through the room. You lose it. Your eyelids flip inside out, fire shoots out of your vagina, and your toenails grow to exponential pterodactyl lengths. You’re at his throat, scratching his jugular with your toes until you’re satisfied enough with the human carnage you’ve turned him into.

That moment right there, that’s where I’m at.

In all honesty, I’m a pleasant human. I have my own beauty blog and live in sunny Los Angeles, where I pay an ass ton of money to live in a two-bedroom apartment the size of walk-in closet, but I make it work. You know those hidden Murphy beds? I have one; be jealous. I get to work from home, test out different cosmetics, and write about them. I’ve got a pretty easy going life, or at least I did.

It all started when Paul, my older brother, decided to get married. No, this isn’t one of those stories where I talk about the evil soon to be sister-in-law and how she’s ruined my life. I actually adore Savannah; she’s perfect for my brother, minus the big eyes. I swear she blinks three times less than the average human.

This is about the week leading up to my brother’s wedding…the week that I now refer to on my blog as the journey of three beards and a mascara brush.

Confused? Don’t be; you will understand very quickly where I’m coming from.

 

Dec 15th, 22nd, 29th, Jan 5th: Teaser Blast
January 12: Release Day Blast
January 11-23: Review Tour
January 16-30: Promotional Event

 

About the Author:

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

Like me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/meghanquinnauthor

Find me on Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7360513.Meghan_Quinn

Visit my website: http://authormeghanquinn.com/