Complicate Me by M. Robinson….Release Blitz

Release Day Blitz
Complicate Me
Best Selling Author M. ROBINSON
Cover Design: Rebecca Marie at The Final Wrap
It was complicated, it was
also just the beginning.
A decision.
A simple choice.
There is always that one
moment in life where things could have been different. That one moment where
you could have chosen a path that would lead you down a certain road.
A different life.
It was easier to pretend that
we were still best friends, and that she was my girl and I was her boy.
Pretending was better than
knowing the truth…
I. Ruined. Us.
I had her.
I lost her.
I love her.
All I did was complicate us.
Buy Links
 Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Kh8vug
 Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/576941
My brown eyed girl sat on our blankets with her arms wrapped around her knees, hiding her face. The tiny frame that I adored so much shook uncontrollably, only heightening the deepest sobbing that escalated with each passing second. It was such an intimate moment, not to be shared with anyone, especially me. Alex didn’t cry. I watched her bawl for the first time in my life. I had never seen anyone cry like that before, and it shook me to my core, slicing me whole, and making me feel like I
was dying. Carving a memory that I would take to my grave.  There was no going back…
No erasing.
No do overs.
No deleting.
What I witnessed tonight would be my purgatory; I would now close my eyes and forever see her falling apart in front of me. Shattering before my very own eyes and I found it hard to breathe.
Hard to move.
My feet were glued to the goddamn floor as she continued to weep, sob, bawl, violently sucking in air that wasn’t available. I accepted it all; each tear that fell from her face becoming pieces of me. Circulating through my veins and blood, it flowed
endlessly, a river of her sadness and sorrow and of my broken promises. No
beginning or ending to her cries, just an infinite current, flooding the hole
where my heart should be. The shadow of her trembling petite body reflected off
the walls, leaving a trail of regrets in its wake.
Mine.
Hers.
Ours.
Growing up in a small town you overheard a lot of things. People talking, stories told, town gossip. You listened a lot. You learned a lot. Tourists, townies, friends, and especially family all shared wisdom and advice that you think you will never need.
Bunch of bullshit. They say you have that one moment in life where
things could have been different, that one moment that changes the course of
your life or the direction you could have taken. That one moment that could
forever change you and everything you wanted to be true, everything you wanted
to believe. 
One simple decision could alter your entire future.
My entire world.
I would forever remember this moment for the rest of my life. This is the moment that changed everything. This is the moment where I took another direction, another road that led me to my own demise. My own regrets.  I should have walked in
there. I should have apologized. I should have begged for her forgiveness. I
should have promised that I would never hurt her again. I should have done
whatever it took to make her look at me the way she had our entire lives.
But I didn’t…
I did none of those things…
Not one.
Nothing was said between us.
No words.
No actions.
I was a coward and couldn’t do it. I couldn’t see her like that. I couldn’t look into her eyes and know that I had hurt her. That I had disappointed her. That I ruined her love and lost her respect for me. The boy who promised he would never hurt her.
The boy who swore he would always protect her.
The boy who vowed he would never let anything happen to her.
That same boy was me.
I was the reason she was bawling.
I was the reason she was hurt.
I was the reason she was broken.
She knew the truth. It had finally caught up to me… I shattered her illusion that I was hers. I ruined the one good thing I had in my life. The girl that owned my heart was bleeding out for me in a way that I had never seen before. The house was no longer our safe place.
I had brought my hurricane with me…
I couldn’t risk the possibility of losing her permanently if I walked in there and admitted my truths. She wouldn’t love me anymore, she wouldn’t look at me the same anymore, and she wouldn’t be mine anymore.
My brown eyed girl.
The girl that I had loved all of my life.
The same girl that I would
love for the rest of my life.
Alexandra.
I gave her the only comfort I could in her moment of despair. I turned around and left. I walked down the stairs and got into my truck. I turned the engine on and drove my sorry ass home. I took a shower and never once looked at myself in the mirror. I
pretended that nothing changed. That I didn’t cause her pain, and that she
didn’t know the truth. That I didn’t see her sobbing and that she wasn’t even
bawling to begin with. That we were still just best friends, and that she was
my girl and I was her boy.
My Half-Pint and her Bo.
It was better than knowing…
I ruined us.

 

Best Selling Author M. Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has angst,
romance, triangles, cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been reading
since the Babysitters Club and R.L. Stein.
She was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She is currently pursuing
her Ph.D in psychology, with two years left.
She is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces. They have two German
Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat.  


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Spotlight on Meghan Quinn

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00Born 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!

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NewlyExposedAdam James is a corn-fed, Nebraska raised, piece of man meat with a chiseled body and baby face. He is in desperate need of a paycheck and will do just about anything to get one, including stripping down to his skivvies and lathering up in baby oil.

Solo Cohan is a quirky hipster with a strong work ethic,raised by two gay dads who are head over heels in love with Harrison Ford and Star Wars, hence the name, Solo. She works for Teeg Model Management, the same modeling agency that decides to book Adam as their next up and coming model. Sparks ignite between her and Adam the minute her baby oil soaked hand connects with his practically naked body.

Even though Solo can’t stop thinking about Adam during photo shoots, she quickly and awkwardly, shows Adam her distaste for male models and her inability to engage romantically with them. Adam is captivated by her nerdy talk and peculiar tendencies and sets out to make it his mission to turn the Star Wars loving hipster to the dark side, where mingling with models is widely arousing.

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Cover Reveal & Promo Tour for

Repentance: The Story of Kace Haywood by Meghan Quinn

• Cover Reveal September 21st •

• Promo Tour starts October 8th •

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Synopsis:

Every choice you make in life comes with a consequence, which dictates the outcome of your future.

I was once on top, I was living the life I dreamt of, I had everything I could possibly hope for. I was happy, satisfied, content…until one night.

One off day.

One moment in time I wish I could take back. My biggest regret.

The once bright future I possessed vanished and in its place a dark world of self-hatred and loathing encompassed me.

People like to celebrate the day they were born, I like to celebrate the day my soul died.

This is my story of repentance.

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Fade to Red by Willow Aster…. Teaser Tuesday

Coming soon from Willow Aster!!

New teaser alert for Fade to Red by Willow Aster, releasing on September 21st! This is a standalone novel featuring characters from True Love Story. Make sure you add it to your Goodreads TBR today. http://bit.ly/1TRKr6z

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Synopsis:

Dancing in pop superstar Beckham Woods’ entourage was the last thing Roxie wanted. Her life with little Leo was blissfully ordinary; she didn’t have time for the drama that stirring up old memories would surely cause.

But when Roxie took a spot on an international tour with Woods and rock icon Ian Sterling, the lure of financial security and her passion for dance pulled her into an emotional storm that threatened to spin out of control and hurt the ones she loved most.

Just as she began to adjust to her new life, it became apparent that danger was in the shadows, waiting for a chance to move…

End of Day by Jewel E. Ann….Blog Tour & Review

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Meet Jack & Jill in End of Day by Jewel E Ann!

Be sure to grab your copy of this uniquely dark and funny read at the following retailers:

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

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1TGcu99

iTunes http://apple.co/1UEUj61

Kobo http://bit.ly/1JeJ1U6

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Blurb

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life.

Four caskets. Two bodies.

Jessica and Jude Day witness their funeral and that of their parents a few yards away from mourning family and friends. Stripped of the only life they’ve ever known, the Days say goodbye to San Francisco forever.

Four months later, two thirty-year-old misfits with elite self-defense skills and penchants for alcohol, sex, and trouble arrive like an earthquake to Peaceful Woods, a retirement community in Omaha, Nebraska, that thrives on rules and gossip. Welcome home, Jackson and Jillian Knight.

Jackson celebrates his new beginning by embracing his job and wiping his cavalier past clean with a temporary oath of celibacy. But Jillian’s past is branded into her soul—the deaths, the insanity, Dr. Luke Jones, and the need to make her lovers bleed. Her chance for redemption comes in the form of a next door neighbor, one Senior Master Sergeant Monaghan. He’s sexy, dangerously alluring, and riddled with emotional issues from years of service. He’s also … So. Damn. Grumpy.

Their mission is simple: Let go, start over, don’t kill anyone, and pray that nobody wakes the dead.

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Excerpt

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

         Jessica’s smile slipped. “If I told you then I’d have to kill you.”

         “So you’re a secret agent?”

         She flipped onto her stomach, resting her chin on her crossed arms. “If I said yes then it would no longer be a secret. Come on, Jones, you’re losing your focus. Don’t let me feel smarter than you or our time together will be over and I rather like hanging out here.”

         “Luke,” he corrected.

         “Lucas.”

         “Luke.”

         “Lukey.”

         “LUKE!”

         “Lulu.”

         “I mean it!” Luke showed another rare moment of teetering emotion.

         Jessica chuckled. “What are the chances of us having sex? I’ve never done it missionary, but you could possibly counsel me through it.”

         He refocused on his crossword puzzle, filling in a word in pen. “Less than zero percent.”

         “So, not in my favor, eh?

         “Why not missionary?”

         Jessica smiled in delight that Luke continued with the topic of conversation. “I’m sure you already know, but if you want me to say I need control, then sure, I need control. But the truth is I’d control any sex position you want to put me in.” Jessica winked as Luke gave her a fleeting glance. “I just don’t want you thinking you have control, even if I know it’s not the case. Pisses me off to see the smirk on a guy’s face when he thinks he has control.”

         “Tell me why you need control.” Luke continued with his crossword.

         “In bed?”

         “Yes.”

         “Someone has to have it.”

         “Why?”

         “Because someone initiates it.”

         “So if I initiate sex with you will I have control?”

         “There’s only one way to find out.” Jessica wiggled her eyebrows at an ill-humored Luke.

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REVIEW

WOW! WOW! WOW!

First off – this is the first book I have read by Jewel E Ann and I abso-freaking-lutely loved it!!

I can’t really give you ANY of the plot about End of Day without explaining whole book, so I am going to apologize in advance for giving you nothing about it – expect a few character details.

You know that Jack/Jude and Jill/Jess are twins.  They are starting (or trying to start) a new life together.  And these two spar – physically and verbally with each other.  They love each other alot so the abuse is just sibling love.

Jill is a no-holds bar, in your face type of woman. She doesn’t sugar coat anything and pretty much gives the new neighbors heart attacks every waking moment.  However, she is having difficulty moving on from the past.

Jack is the more level-headed one and seems to try and make their new life better.  He is the rock for Jill and tries to keep her from getting to caught up in the past and not able to enjoy their new life.

This story is told in 3rd person.  If you are looking for a light, easy read – don’t read this.  End of Day is in-depth and has some grey areas.  It’s not extremely dark but it’s definitely not all pretty rainbows.  I thoroughly enjoyed this story line.  The characters are well-developed and complex.  I love the added humor into this book – doesn’t allow things to get too dark and serious and keeps it more real.

Jewel did a wonderful job of writing a very unique and interesting plot.  And she wrote it exquisitely.  We get snippets of the past to explain why things are the way they are in the future and it doesn’t get confusing in the least.

And then we have the ending.  The book ends in a cliffhanger, however you are given an optional cliffhanger that you can read her ending.  I am not telling you if I chose to continue or not, but I will say that I need book 2 NOW!!!!

An extremely awesome start to a great series!!!

About the Author

www.annajon.es

Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.

With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.

After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.

When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest

GIVEAWAY

Maya Custom Design (by winner) Timbuk2 bag ($100 value)

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Before We Were Strangers by Renée Carlino…Blog Tour & Review

 

From the USA TODAY
bestselling author of Sweet Thing and Nowhere But Here comes a love story about
a Craigslist “missed connection” post that gives two people a second chance at
love fifteen years after they were separated in New York City.
To the Green-eyed Lovebird:
We met fifteen years ago, almost to the day, when I moved my
stuff into the NYU dorm room next to yours at Senior House.
You called us fast friends. I like to think it was more.
We lived on nothing but the excitement of finding ourselves
through music (you were obsessed with Jeff Buckley), photography (I couldn’t
stop taking pictures of you), hanging out in Washington Square Park, and all
the weird things we did to make money. I learned more about myself that year
than any other.
Yet, somehow, it all fell apart. We lost touch the summer
after graduation when I went to South America to work for National Geographic.
When I came back, you were gone. A part of me still wonders if I pushed you too
hard after the wedding…
I didn’t see you again until a month ago. It was a
Wednesday. You were rocking back on your heels, balancing on that thick yellow
line that runs along the subway platform, waiting for the F train. I didn’t
know it was you until it was too late, and then you were gone. Again. You said
my name; I saw it on your lips. I tried to will the train to stop, just so I
could say hello.
After seeing you, all of the youthful feelings and memories
came flooding back to me, and now I’ve spent the better part of a month
wondering what your life is like. I might be totally out of my mind, but would
you like to get a drink with me and catch up on the last decade and a half?
M

 

2. Five Days After I Saw You
MATT
I took the damn F train, an hour-long ride to Brooklyn
from Midtown and back every day, at lunch, hoping I would run into Grace again,
but I never did.
Things were bad at work. I had submitted a request to
go into the field three months earlier but had been denied. Now I had to watch
Elizabeth and Brad walk around in bliss as people congratulated them on the
baby and Brad’s promotion, which came right after the announcement.
Meanwhile, I was still rejecting any forward motion in
my life. I was a stagnant puddle of shit. I had volunteered to go back on
location to South America with a National
Geographic
film crew. New York just wasn’t the same anymore. It held no
magic for me. The Amazonian jungle, with all of its wonderful and exotic
diseases, seemed more appealing than taking orders from my ex-wife and her smug
husband. But my request hadn’t been approved or denied. It just sat in a pile of
other requests on Scott’s desk.
I pondered the current state of my life while I stared
at a blank wall in the office break room. Standing next to the water cooler,
holding a half-empty paper cone, I tallied the insubstantial years I had spent
with Elizabeth and wondered why. How had things gone so terribly wrong?
“What are you doin’, man?” Scott’s voice
came from the doorway.
I turned and smiled. “Just thinking.”
”You seem a little brighter.”
“Actually, I was thinking about how I ended up
thirty­six, divorced, and trapped in cubicle hell.”
He walked to the coffeepot and poured a mug full then
leaned against the counter. “You were a workaholic?” he offered.
“That’s not why Elizabeth was unfaithful. She
fell right into Brad’s skinny arms, and he works more than I do. Hell,
Elizabeth works more than I do.”
“Why are you dwelling on the past? Look at you. You’re
tall. You have hair. And it looks like”—he waved his hand around at my
stomach—”you might have abs?”
”You checking me out?”
”I’d kill for a head of hair like that.”
Scott was the kind of guy who was bald by twenty-two. He’s
been shaving it Mr. Clean-style since then.
“What do women call that thing?” He pointed
to the back of my head.
“A bun?”
“No, there’s, like, a sexier name for it. The
ladies love that shit.”
“They call it a man-bun.”
He studied me. “Jesus, you’re a free man, Matt.
Why aren’t you prowling the savannahs for new game? I can’t watch you mope
around like this. I thought you were over Elizabeth?”
I shut the break-room door. “I am. I was over
Elizabeth a long time ago. It’s hard for me even to remember being into her. I
got caught up in the fantasy of it, traveling with her, taking photos. Something
was always missing, though. Maybe I did work too much. I mean, that’s all we
talked about, that’s all we had in common. Now look where I am.”
“What about Subway Girl?”
“What about her?”
“I don’t know. I thought you were gonna try to
get in touch with her?”
“Yeah. Maybe. Easier said than done.”
“You just have to put yourself out there. Get on
social media.”
Will
I find Grace there?
I went back and forth between wanting to
do everything I could to find her and feeling like it was totally pointless.
She’d be with someone. She’d be someone’s wife. Someone better than me. I wanted
to get away from everything reminding me that I still had nothing.
“If you care so much, why haven’t you approved my
request?” I asked.
He scowled. I noticed how deep the line was between
his eyebrows and it occurred to me that Scott and I were the same age…and he
was getting old. “I don’t mean the actual savannahs, man. Running away
isn’t going to solve your problems.”
“Now you’re my shrink?”
“No, I’m your friend. Remember when you asked for
that desk job?”
I walked toward the door. “Just consider it.
Please, Scott.”
Right before I left the room he said, “You’re
chasing the wrong thing. It’s not gonna make you happy.”
He was right, and I could admit that to myself, but
not out loud. I thought if I could win an award again, get some recognition for
my work, it would fill the black hole eating away at me. But deep down, I knew
that wasn’t the solution.
After work, I sat on a bus bench just outside the National
Geographic building. I watched hordes of people trying to get home, racing down
the crowded sidewalks of Midtown. I wondered if I could judge how lonely a
person was based on how much of a hurry he or she was in. No one who has
someone waiting for him at home would sit on a bus bench after a ten-hour
workday and people-watch. I always carried an old Pentax camera from my college
days in my messenger bag, but I hadn’t used it in years.
I removed it from the case and starting clicking away
as people flooded in and out of the subway, as they waited for buses, as they
hailed cabs. I hoped that through the lens I would see her again, like I had
years before. Her vibrant spirit; the way she could color a black-and-white
photo with her magnetism alone. I had thought about Grace often over the years.
Something as simple as a smell, like sugared pancakes at night, or the sound of
a cello in Grand Central or Washington Square Park on a warm day, could
transport me right back to that year in college. The year I spent falling in
love with her.
It was hard for me to see the beauty in New York anymore.
Granted, much of the riffraff and grit was gone, at least in the East Village; it
was cleaner and greener now, but that palpable energy I had felt in college was
gone, too. For me, anyway.
Time passes, life goes on, places change, people change.
And still, I couldn’t get Grace off my mind after seeing her in the subway. Fifteen
years is too long to be holding on to a few heart-pounding moments from
college.

 REVIEW

I truly enjoyed reading Before We Were Strangers because it gave me that feeling of belief and hopes that we adults once had as a child. The dream that we were told to never give up on.

This is an extremely beautiful love story.  But to get to that beautiful part, there were many obstacles along the windy path.  Renée did a superb job of keeping the story flowing at the right pace and allowing the reader to see and feel each characters POV.

Matt and Grace are two characters you will find yourself getting completely attached to and understanding everything they go through.  And as the story progresses, things start to come together. This is story of second chance love and Renée delivers it perfectly!

I loved happy feeling I got when reading this – I actually felt myself smiling at certain parts.  I cried, both happy and sad tears.  I felt the love in this book.

Before We Were Strangers is one book that you definitely have to read.  Renée wrote this book flawlessly.  You will find yourself wanting to reread this book just to experience it all over again!

 

 

 

 

 

Renée Carlino is a screenwriter and bestselling author of
romantic women’s novels. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two
sons, and their sweet dog June. When she’s not at the beach with her boys or
working on her next project, she likes to spend her time reading, going to
concerts, and eating dark chocolate.

Better When He’s Brave by Jay Crownover….Blog Tour & Review

Better When He's Brave - Review & Excerpt Tour banner

 

We are so incredibly excited to bring you the Review & Excerpt Tour for Jay Crownover’s BETTER WHEN HE’S BRAVE!! BETTER WHEN HE’S BRAVE is a New Adult Contemporary Romance novel being published by HarperCollins, and it is the 3rd book in Welcome to the Point Series. This amazing book releases on August 11th!!

 

Better When Hes Brave - cover

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** iTunes

 

BETTER WHEN HE’S BRAVE – Review & Excerpt Tour

August 3rd

Textteaser – Review & Excerpt

People Like Books – Review & Excerpt

Vilma’sBook Blog – Excerpt

Book Babes Unite – Review & Excerpt

August 4th

Ceres Books World – Review

LuLoFangirl – Excerpt

Random Book Muses – Review & Excerpt

Martini Times Romance – Review & Excerpt

August 5th

Greyland Reviews – Excerpt

Talk Books to Me – Review

Ficwishes – Review

Milky Way of Books – Review & Excerpt

Words with Sarah – Review & Excerpt

August 6th

Must Read Books or Die – Review

NightOwl Reader – Review & Excerpt

From the TBR Pile – Review & Excerpt

TjLovesToRead – Review & Excerpt

August 7th

Book Freak – Review

The Book Hoarders – Review & Excerpt

The Fairest of All Book Reviews – Review & Excerpt

Total Book Geek – Review & Excerpt

Zili in the Sky – Review & Excerpt

August 8th

Ramblings From This Chick – Review

Nose Stuck In A Book – Review & Excerpt

Reese’s Review – Review & Excerpt

Guilty indulgence – Review & Excerpt

August 9th

Red Hot + Blue Reads – Review & Excerpt

Oh My Shelves – Excerpt

Romance Addict Book Blog – Review & Excerpt

The Phantom Paragrapher – Review

This is the Story of My(Reading) Life – Review & Excerpt

August 10th

Morning Books and Coffee – Review & Excerpt

Jen in Bookland – Review & Excerpt

StuckInBooks – Review & Excerpt

Belle of the Literari – Review

August 11th

Bookalicious Babes Blog – Review & Excerpt

Literati Literature Lovers –Review & Excerpt

Love Between the Sheets – Review

Book Starlets – Review & Excerpt

Waves of Fiction – Review

August 12th

Desert Divas Book Addiction – Review & Excerpt

Emilie’s Book World – Review & Excerpt

Biblio Belles – Review

Ali’s Reviews and More – Review & Excerpt

Reading Between the Wines Book Club – Excerpt

August 13th

Works of Fiction – Review

kimberlyfaye reads – Review

Fiction Fangirls – Excerpt

Reading is Sexy – Review & Excerpt

Obsessive Book Nerd – Review & Excerpt

August 14th

t’irla’s talk – Review & Excerpt

Book Sojourner – Review & Excerpt

Shameless Book Club – Review & Excerpt

Typical Distractions – Review & Excerpt

Read Love Blog – Review & Excerpt

August 15th

Pages Abound – Review & Excerpt

2 Girls Book: An Asian & White Chick Walk into a Book Blog – Review

Girls With Books – Review & Excerpt

Cocktails and Books – Review

August 16th

BBF BookBoyfriends – Review & Excerpt

Scandalous Book Blog – Review & Excerpt

Romance Obsessed Book Blog – Review

Four Brits and a Book – Excerpt

August 17th

Resch Reads and Reviews – Review

Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess – Review & Excerpt

Cruising Susan Book Reviews – Review

Red Cheeks Reads – Review & Excerpt

August 18th

Alii’s Book Jungle – Review & Excerpt

Mommy Reads What?! – Review

Buchjunkies (exclusively German blog) – Review

Love N Books – Review

August 19th

Flirty Fiction Blog – Review & Excerpt

Live Read and Breathe – Review

Book Angel Booktopia – Review & Excerpt

Got More Books – Review & Excerpt

August 20th

The Revolving Bookcase – Review & Excerpt

NC 2 DC – Review & Excerpt

Made For You Book Reviews – Review

PBC – Excerpt

August 21st

The Book Enthusiast – Review & Excerpt

The Unofficial Addiction Book Fan Club – Excerpt

EscapeNBooks – Review & Excerpt

A Literary Perusal – Review & Excerpt

 

And don’t miss the previous books in The Point Series!

Better WhenHe's Bad

BETTER WHEN HE’S BAD

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Better When Hes Bold

BETTER WHEN HE’S BOLD

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About BETTER WHEN HE’S BRAVE:

In New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jay Crownover’s third novel in her sexy, thrilling Welcome to the Point series, a woman’s search for repentance leads her to the one man from her past she can’t forget as they join forces to save their city—and the explosive love neither can live without.

Titus King sees the world in black and white. Right and wrong. Which is why as a teenager he left behind the only family he’d ever known to make a better life for himself. Now a police detective in one of the worst cities in the country, he can’t deny his life has turned into a million different shades of gray.

The new criminal element in The Point has brought vengeance and destruction right to Titus’s front door, and the difference between right and wrong is nothing compared to keeping those he loves alive. To add to his already strained moral compass, the beautiful and mysterious Reeve Black has made her way back to town, and she might be as dangerous to Titus as the guy trying to destroy the Point because he needs her—in more ways than one.

Reeve knows all about how ruthless this new threat to destroy The Point can be… and instead of running away, she wants to help. She has a lot to repent for and saving the city, plus the hot cop that she hasn’t been able to forget might just be the only way she can finally find some inner peace.

With an entire city poised on the brink of war, Titus and Reeve stand in the crossfire—and it will take two brave souls to fight for the ultimate love.

 

REVIEW

Better When He’s Brave is the third installment in The Point series and with each one, I am more drawn into this world.

Titus is man who stands by law and the love of his job always comes first.  It’s always been black and white for him been it comes to the law.  But when he sets his eyes on Reeve, things get a little grey.

Reeve has made some shitty choices but she owns them.  She’s returned to the Point and when things get even worse, she wants to do what she can to prove she’s trust worthy and end this.

These two couldn’t be more different from one another but are the perfect other half.  Where Reeve can see the bending of a rule to make something work, Titus shows her where things can go wrong.  Even though on the surface these aren’t good for another, their deeper connection is what pulls them together.

I love reading Jay’s books. She knows how to exquisitely bring a story together.  She always has complex and intriguing characters that grow on you. Her plots are always thick and riveting with just the right amount of suspense in them.  I find myself constantly blowing through her books because I can’t wait to see what happens and how everything ends.

Each book in this series can be read as a standalone but I HIGHLY recommend reading them all!! Jay is a mastermind when it comes to writing books with hot scenes, a gritty storyline, well developed characters and delivers it all in one perfect package.

Another Five star read for me from Jay Crownover!

 

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Jay CrownoverAbout Jay Crownover:

Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men and The Point series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she’ll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs.

 

 

 

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BETTER WHEN HE’S BRAVE Goodreads ** Jay Crownover Goodreads

 

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Make Me by Tessa Bailey….Blog Tour Stop with Excerpt and Review

MakeMe
About MAKE ME

In the final Broke and Beautiful novel from bestselling author Tessa Bailey, a blue collar construction worker and a quiet uptown girl are about to discover that the friendzone can sometimes be excellent foreplay.

Construction worker Russell Hart has been head-over-work boots for Abby Sullivan since the moment he laid eyes on her. But he knows a classy, uptown virgin like her could never be truly happy with a rough, blue-collar guy like him. If only she’d stop treating him like her personal hero—a role he craves more than oxygen—maybe he could accept it.

With the future of her family’s hedge fund on her shoulders, Abby barely has time to sleep, let alone find love. And her best friend Russell acting like a sexy, overprotective hulk any time their Super Group goes out in public definitely isn’t helping her single status. But after a near-tragedy lands Russell in her bed for the night, Abby’s suddenly fantasizing about what he looks like shirtless. Chest hair and tattoos—who knew?

As Russell struggles to keep Abby at a safe distance, she begins to see through his tough-talking exterior—and acknowledge her own feelings. Now she’s ready to turn the friend-zone into foreplay…and make him lose control.

 

My review:

Make Me is the third and final book in author Tessa Bailey’s Broke and Beautiful Series, a series I had completely fallen in love with since the very first page of the very first book. While I loved each book and I adore all of the characters, this book has landed as my hands-down favorite of the series.

It seems like the only thing Russell could concentrate on these days was the all-consuming attraction he felt for Abby. If he’s being honest, though, it’s been that way since the day he first laid eyes on her. She was beautiful, smart….and off-limits. To him, at least. No way would someone who came from the land of silver spoons and privilege ever want to be with a man like him. He knew he was a good, stand-up, loyal man, but he sure as hell hadn’t come from the same side of the tracks as she had and he wanted better for Abby that what he could offer her. It still didn’t stop him from wanting her like a starving man wants a steak. He had been successful at keeping her in the friend-zone and in the friend-zone she would stay…until one fateful day when a nap and too many shots of tequila changes everything…

Abby had loved Russell’s company and friendship since their little group had come together. She had relied on his sternness and surly behavior. It always made her feel better to see his scowl at her choice of non-sensible footwear, or when he insisted she text him after getting home from a late night. He had come to mean so much to her and in her world, a world that hadn’t included real friends until now, it meant more than she could ever say. But just when she thinks she has her adorably gruff construction worker friend out, things change. All of a sudden she notices him in an entirely different light and it awakens things inside her. Desires and emotions she had never had the chance to explore. Would she be able to convince him to explore those new feelings with her? She knew with a deep certainly that she didn’t want it to be anyone else….

Two very different people form two very different backgrounds have one very singular desires…but will they both be able to push away all the hidden insecurities and give in to what the both want so desperately?

First off, I will NOT cry while typing this review (I hope…). Secondly, I will try not to ramble. Ok, here goes…I loved this book. I. Loved. This. Book. I know I’ve said that a million times before, and I totally mean it, but this book was just everything.

Russell and Abby made my heart happy, then ripped it out, stomped on it, crushed it to a million pieces, fixed it all back up, and made it whole again and filled with so much love for these two that I could just burst. The gradual build of chemistry between Russell and Abby through this series was amazing and all leads up to this story. A story filled with so much tension and emotion that I couldn’t stop reading it until I knew everything would be ok. And what a journey to “ok” it was. Even when Russell and Abby finally admit their feelings, it still wasn’t ok. And I totally got it. I wasn’t mad at Russell for feeling he wasn’t enough for Abby but still needing to be by her side and protect her. And after learning about his past, I understood why he felt that way. It broke my heart, but I understood it. Abby is an amazing gal with so much on her plate. But she’s also got a whole determined streak in her that she brings out with Russell and I loved her for it. I wanted to high five my e-reader when she really backed him into a corner and pushed him until he had to relent.

Adding to the mess is Abby’s family and their livelihood is in a bit of trouble and because she was used to being friend-less her entire life, she was handling it all on her own, behind the scenes. That, of course, only brings out more of the alpha protector in Russell and God if that didn’t make me love him more. They were both a jumble of feelings and emotion and lust and it hit a fevered pitch more than a couple of times and, damn, it was magic.

Of course, all of the ups and downs lead up to a whole lot of “one step forward, two-steps back” for them but it was the journey they needed to take. There are so many stumbles along the way and my heart hurt for these two but that’s what I count on from Tessa. That level of attachment to characters and that level of emotional connection.

What I also loved so much about this book was that it brought me back to those first Line Of Duty books by Tessa, with those swoon worthy alpha male protectors. This series was definitely a departure with a lot more fun and sass, and as much as I love all of that, this was the ending that brought me back to the beginning, in a way. This series was a perfect balance with each character bringing something different to the collection. (ok, I may be crying a bit…)

Thank you, Tessa, for giving this series an ending that only you can give! And thank you for giving all of us the Broke and Beautiful series! (Now I’m going ahead and having a good cry…)5 star rainbow unicorn

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Excerpt:

Chapter One

Day one hundred and forty-two of being friend-zoned. Send rations.
Russell Hart stifled a groan when Abby twisted on his lap to call out a drink order to the passing waiter, adding a smile that would no doubt earn her a martini on the house. Every time their six person “super group” hung out, which was starting to become a nightly affair, Russell advanced into a newer, more vicious circle of hell. Tonight, however, he was pretty sure he’d meet the devil himself.
They were at the Longshoreman, celebrating the Fourth of July, which presented more than one precious little clusterfuck. One, the holiday meant the bar was packed full of tipsy Manhattanites, creating a shortage of chairs, hence Abby parking herself right on top of his dick. Two, it put the usually conservative Abby in ass-hugging shorts and one of those tops that tied at the back of her neck. Six months ago, he would have called it a shirt, but his two best friends had fallen down the relationship rabbit hole, putting him in the vicinity of excessive chick talk. So, now it was a halter-top. What he wouldn’t give to erase that knowledge.
During their first round of drinks, he’d become a believer in breathing exercises. Until he’d noticed these tiny, blond curls at Abby’s nape, curls he’d never seen before. And some-fucking-how, those sun-kissed curls were what had nudged him from semi-erect to full-scale Washington monument status. The hair on the rest of her head was like a…a warm milk chocolate color, so where did those little curls come from? Those detrimental musings had lead to Russell questioning what else he didn’t know about Abby. What color was everything else? Did she have freckles? Where?
Russell would not be finding out – ever – and not just because he was sitting in the friend zone with his dick wedged against his stomach – not an easy maneuver – so she wouldn’t feel it. No, there was more to it. His friends, Ben and Louis, were well aware of those reasons, which accounted for the half-sympathetic, half-needling looks they were sending him from across the table, respective girlfriends perched on their laps. The jerks.
Abby was off-limits. Not because she was taken – thank Christ – or because someone had verbally forbidden him from pursuing her. That wasn’t it. Russell had taken a long time trying to find a suitable explanation for why he didn’t just get the girl alone one night and make his move. Explain to her that men like him weren’t suitable friends for wide-eyes debutantes and give her a demonstration of the alternative.
It went like this. Abby was like an expensive package that had been delivered to him by mistake. Someone at the post office had screwed the pooch and dropped off the shiniest, most beautiful creation on his Queens doorstep and driven away, laughing manically. Russell wasn’t falling for the trick, though. Someone would claim the package, eventually. They would chuckle over the obvious mistake and take Abby away from him, because really, he had no business being the one who’s lap she chose to sit on. No business, whatsoever.
But while he was in possession of the package – as much as he’d allow himself to be in possession, anyway – he would guard her with his life. He would make sure that when someone realized the cosmic error that had occurred – the one that had made him Abby’s friend and confidant – she would be sweet and undamaged, just as she’d been on arrival.

Unfortunately, the package didn’t seem content to let him stand guard from a distance. She innocently beckoned him back every time he managed to put an inch of space between them. Russell had lost count of the times Abby had fallen asleep on him while the super group watched a movie, drank margaritas on the girls’ building rooftop, driven home in cabs. She was entirely too comfortable around him, considering he saluted against his fly every time they were in the same room.
“Why so quiet, Russell?” Louis asked, his grin turning to a wince as his actress girlfriend, Roxy, elbowed him in the ribs. Yeah. Everyone at the damn table knew he had a major thing for the beautiful, unassuming number whiz on his lap. Everyone but Abby. And that’s how he planned to keep it.
“I know why,” Ben said, causing Russell’s stomach to catapult itself across the bar. Before he could change the subject, Ben pulled his student-turned-main squeeze closer and continued. “He doesn’t need to give us advice on girls anymore. His powers have been diminished.”
“We’ve slain the beast.”
Ben and Louis toasted their plastic beer cups without a single glance at one other. Why was he friends with these two again? Oh right. The power of beer had brought them together. Praise be to Heineken. Smug as they were, though, Russell knew humor was their way of showing support. If it wasn’t humor, it would be sympathy, aka dude kryptonite.
“What kind of advice did he give you about us?” Roxy wanted to know, shooting Louis and Ben stern glances.
“Uh-uh.” Russell shook his head. “I’m calling bro confidentiality on you both. That includes pillow talk and supersedes any and all forms of sexual coercion.”
Ben adjusted his glasses. “That reasoning, however, should lend some insight into what you ladies missed.”
Honey leaned across the table and patted Russell’s arm. “It all worked out in the end, big guy. Who knows? You might have had something to do with it after all.”
Russell opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he planned to say withered in its inception because Abby spun in his lap again, sending the world around him into slow motion. A left jab of her scent – which after careful consideration he’d termed white grape sunlight – caught him in the chin and he barely restrained the urge to shout oh, come on, at the top of his lungs. Her big hazel eyes were indignant on his behalf, mouth pursed in a way that shouldn’t have been sexy, but damn-well was. She’d snapped her spine straight, hip bumping his erection in the process.
Please, almighty God, just kill me now.
“Russell gives great advice,” Abby protested and Russell would have smiled if he wasn’t busy earning his master’s degree in boner-soothing meditation. She really had no idea her outrage only made her sweeter because it looked so unnatural on her. “Remember the man on the first floor of our building? The one who used to clear his throat loudly every time we walked by?” She waited for Honey and Roxy to nod. “Russell told me the next time it happened, I should just shout TROUBLE at his door. I did. And it hasn’t happened since.”
When Louis and Ben started laughing into their beers, Russell flipped them off behind Abby’s back. What his friends knew that Abby didn’t? As soon as she’d told him the problem, he’d paid a visit to their downstairs neighbor and explained that trouble would find him if he so much as breathed in Abby – or any of her roommates’ – direction again. Hence, the single word being so effective. Russell was trouble.
But as Abby turned a bright, encouraging smile on him, swelling his heart like an inflating balloon, he recognized that his brand of trouble had nothing on Abby’s. She didn’t even know how dangerous she was to his health. Because while Abby was the package that had been delivered by mistake, he’d gone and fallen for her, despite his attempts to simply be her friend.
And maybe it was his imagination, but the loss of her seemed to loom a little closer each day. Like any minute now, she would peer a little closer and realize he was in imposter. Loss was something with which Russell was familiar. Loss had cut him off at the knees at a young age, made him hyper aware of how fast it could happen. Whoosh. Chopped off at the knees. So he was already in damage control mode, hoping to limit the fallout when she inevitably headed for a younger version of Gordon Gekko. For now, it was all about keeping a comfortable gap between him and Abby.
She scooted back on his lap to make room for the waitress who had returned with a round of drinks, and Russell gritted his teeth.
Okay. Comfortable definitely wasn’t the right word.

***
I have friends. I have friends now and it’s glorious.
Six months ago, when Abby Sullivan had placed the ad on Craigslist, seeking two roommates to share her Chelsea apartment, her highest hope had been for noise. Maybe it sounded silly, but apart from the Ninth Avenue traffic trundling past and the occasional shouting match on the street, her life had been so quiet before Honey and Roxy showed up. She’d been hoping for hair dryers in the morning, dishes being tossed in the sink, singing in the shower. Anything but the void of sound she’d been living with, alone in the massive space.
Then, oh then, she’d gone and done something even more impulsive than placing an advertisement for massively discounted rent in cyberspace. She’d blurted upon meeting them for the first time that she didn’t need help paying the rent; she merely wanted friends. Unbelievably, it hadn’t felt like a mistake to reveal such a pitiful secret to a couple of strangers. There had been a feeling when all three of them first stood in the same room that it would work out, like a complicated math equation that would prove itself worth the work.
Now? She couldn’t imagine a day passing without them. The guys had been an unexpected bonus she hadn’t counted on. Especially Russell.
As they walked crosstown toward the Hudson River where they planned to watch the Fourth of July fireworks, Abby smiled up at Russell where he towered over her. She received a suspicious look in response. Suspicious! Ha! It made her want to laugh like a lunatic. All the way back to her furthest memory, she’d been reliable, gullible, sugar-filled Abby to everyone and their mother. Even Honey and Roxy, to a degree, handled her carefully around subjects that might offend her or hurt her feelings. She was too grateful for their presence to call them on it, though. Sometimes she opened her mouth, the words I’m not made of spun glass hovering right on the tip of her tongue, but she always swallowed them. They meant well. She knew that with her whole heart. Maybe someday, when she was positive they wouldn’t vanish at a rare show of temper—the way people always did when she bared a flaw—she’d tell them. Until she worked up the courage however, she would stay quiet, and appreciate her new best friends for the colorful positivity they’d brought into her life.
But Russell? She appreciated him even more for getting mad at her.
Such occurrences were her favorite part of the week. Russell stomping into the apartment, grumbling about her not checking the peep hole. Refusing to go out on a Saturday night until she changed into more comfortable shoes. Giving her that daunting frown when she revealed they’d had a leak in the bathroom for three weeks and hadn’t yet called the super to repair it. He’d had it fixed within the hour, but he hadn’t spoken to her the entire time.
It was awesome.
Because he kept coming back. Every time. No matter what—no matter what she said or did—he never washed his hands of her. Never got so fed up with her admittedly flighty behavior that he skipped a hang out. Or didn’t respond to a text. He was the steadfast presence in her life she’d never had.
No one spoke to Abby at her job. She’d been hired after graduating at the top of her Yale class and placed in a silent power position at a hedge fund. Her father’s hedge fund. So she could understand her co-workers’ reticence to invite her for happy hour. Or even give her a polite nod in the hallway. At first, she’d been prepared to try anyway. Force them to acknowledge her in some small way, even if it was just passing the stapler in the conference room. Then she remembered. When she forced her opinion on people, or had an outburst, they went away, and didn’t come back for a long time.
Her coworkers assumed she sat in her air-conditioned office all day playing Minecraft or buying dresses online. And why wouldn’t they? She’d done nothing to sway that notion. In reality, however, she worked hard. Showed up before the lights came on and stayed later than everyone else. Brought work home with her and often, didn’t get to sleep. She had no choice.
Stress tightened like a shoelace around Abby’s stomach, but she breathed through it. Tonight was for fun with her friends. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to face her responsibilities.
“It’s the shoes, isn’t it?” Russell demanded, encompassing Abby, Roxy and Honey with a dark look. “This always happens in the eleventh hour. You girls started limping around and we just have to watch it.”
Ben sighed. “Here we go again.”
“No, really. I think I’ve finally figured it out.” Russell swiped impatient fingers over his shaved head. “You ever heard of sympathy pains? When my sister-in-law gave birth, my brother swore someone was firing a nail gun into his stomach. To this day, the guy has never been the same.” He pointed at Abby’s electric blue pumps. “Women wear these evil creations around to confuse us. Sure, they make a girl’s legs look good, but that’s the black magic, my friends. They want us to feel their pain and not understand why.”
Louis turned, walking backwards on the sidewalk so he could face them. “I have to admit, I’m with Russell on this one.” He smiled at Roxy’s outrage. “You could go barefoot and it wouldn’t make a difference to me.”
“I’ll round it out with a third agreement,” Ben chimed in. “I like Honey in her Chucks.”
That statement earned Ben a kiss from Honey and a groan from Russell. “I’m thrilled you assholes have found a way to use my amazing logic to earn points.”
Abby loved the familiar argument simply because it was familiar—a routine she had in common with others—but she had to admit her feet were throbbing. After a night of dancing, the crosstown walk was giving her blisters. She wore heels all day at the office, but they were sensible and low-heeled. Nothing like the stilettos she’d borrowed from Roxy. In fact, now that she’d acknowledged her tired feet, every part of her seemed to sag with exhaustion, as if she’d finally given her bones permission. “I can end this argument right here,” Abby interrupted with a weary, but determined smile. The group stopped to watch as she slipped off her shoes and placed her bare feet back onto the cool sidewalk with a hearty sigh. For some reason, everyone’s gazes swung to Russell who – God love him – was frowning at her like she’d just crashed his beloved truck.
“A new tactic, gentlemen. Take note.” Their four friends laughed at Russell’s ominous tone, but Abby stayed pinned under his scowl. Although now, his scowl had a hint of uncertainty behind it. “Put them back on, Abby. You’re going to step on something. Broken glass, or—”
Abby breezed past Russell. Honestly, he worried constantly for no reason. They were only a few blocks away from the river and the streets were well lit. What was the worst that could—
Her feet left the ground, her gasp cutting off as she was cradled against Russell’s big chest. His expression was hidden, thanks to the streetlights shining blindingly above his head, but Abby knew from experience, he would be annoyed. She couldn’t prevent the smile from spreading like wildfire across her face, feeling as if it reached as far as her chest. It seemed impossible, but somehow she’d earned a place among these people who cared about her. Friends. Good friends. The kind you can’t live without.
Especially Russell. Her favorite.
“You were put on this earth to make me crazy, Abby. You know that?”
“I’m not sorry about it,” she whispered. “Does that make me a bad person?”
“No. It makes you a woman.”
She muffled her laugh with the use of Russell’s shoulder. “Men make women crazy, too. It’s not a one-sided affair.”
He frowned down at her. “What would you know about it?”
That question coming from anyone else might have embarrassed Abby, but for all Russell’s bluster, he never judged her. Not for her lack of a love life, anyway. Shoes were another matter altogether. “I know things.”
“Things, huh? Maybe Louis and Ben should spend more time at their own apartments.” His arms flexed as he hefted her higher, with minimal effort. “Do you actually like watching the fireworks or is this just a patriotic custom we’re upholding?”
“No, I love fireworks.” She tilted her head back and looked at the sky. “Everyone forgets over the course of the year how incredible fireworks are. You know? They forget until they’re standing beneath them again. You don’t like them?”
He stared ahead as he answered. “I like that you like them.”
Abby smiled, knowing Russell would have to be extra gruff for the remainder of the night to make up for that slip. And needing to torture him a little over it. “That’s how I feel when you make me watch the Yankees.” She laid a hand against his cheek. “It’s worth it just to see your adorable man eyes light up.”
His sigh was sharp, but she caught the corner of his mouth kicking up. “All this time, I thought you were enjoying it.”
“The blooper reel is my favorite.” Drowsiness settled more firmly over her and she stifled a yawn against his shoulder. “Also, I love when kids in the audience catch foul balls.”
“Crowd. It’s called a crowd.”
She hummed in her throat, eyelids beginning to weigh down. “I knew that. Just seeing if you were paying attention,” she murmured.
Russell chewed his bottom lip a moment, worry marring his features. “You’re so tired lately, Abby. Everything okay?”
“Totally fine,” she lied. “Just going to rest my eyes a minute.”
Positive he would wake her up when they reached the Hudson, she wound her arms around his neck and dozed off. It was the first time she’d slept in three days.

Where to buy MAKE ME
HarperCollins
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About TESSA BAILEY
tessa bailey bio

 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Tessa Bailey lives on Long Island with her husband and young daughter. When she isn’t writing or reading romance, Tessa enjoys a good argument and thirty-minute recipes.

 

 

 

 

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Before & After by Nazarea Andrews…Blog Tour Stop & Review

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Summary:

Rike and Peyton fell in love in college.

A boy from the wrong side of the tracks, covered in ink and crooning in a bar is the last person a straight laced girl with a art major should fall for, but his rough edges made her jagged, alive, shaving away the coddled southern princess and revealing a soul wild and brilliant.

They fell in love, despite her family and his past and all the reasons why it wouldn’t work–and with their best friends, they made a life. Everyone was supposed to live happily ever after.
They, more than anyone, knows that life doesn’t go according to plan.

Rike and Peyton fell in love in college. A boy with a guitar, and a poet’s heart, and a girl with freckles dusted over her nose, a perfect fucking fairy tale.

But what happens when the fairy tale doesn’t fall apart–but is forgotten?

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25657969-before-after

 

My Review:

Consider my reluctance about New Adult romance cured. Before & After by Nazarea Andrews made me a believer. Was there over-the-top angst like I feared? Yes. Did I care? Not one little bit. Did it feature characters in their college years who this *cough*late 40s*cough* reviewer was afraid wouldn’t appeal to her? Yes, but I totally loved them. Read on and see why.

Riker (Rike if you’re in his very small, very intimate inner circle) is your typical bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks with a sexy beard and tattoos that hides a painful past. Yet, he’s also far from typical. Sure he’s in a band, but he writes amazing songs that make your heart grow three sizes. And the author includes the songs in the book. Which I loved that she did that! Oh, and he writes poetry that makes you smile and wish they were for you. The author includes these poems throughout the book, before each “After” chapter. Which I loved that she did that!

Before & After is told in alternating points of view. “Before” is told through Rike and “After” is told through our heroine, Peyton. Perhaps you’re gleaning on to the fact that something big happens? It does. An ill-timed accident lands Peyton and her best friend, Lindsay, in the hospital with life-altering injuries. Lindsay is coupled with Rike’s best friend–brother, more like, in all ways but biology–and bandmate, Scot. They’re all best friends together and share practically everything. When Peyton wakes up she doesn’t remember anything about her and Riker. Nothing. Not the all-consuming love they share, the crazy hot sex, the songs—NONE OF IT. She doesn’t remember Lindsay or Scot. She doesn’t remember the accident. Everything but her difficult childhood and right up until she met Rike. *heart breaks*

Andrews deftly brings the reader along the journey that Peyton and Rike begin to regain what they’d lost. As I said, the story is told in alternating points of view, but it’s also done with alternating before (the accident) and after (the accident) chapters. It’s a very clever and interesting way to piece them back together and slowly reveal all the things Peyton forgot. There were a few things I would have like fleshed out more, such as Peyton’s parents. We’re supposed to believe that they’re bad for her, but I don’t think the author fully made that case. There’s also a very interesting dynamic between two couples that wasn’t as developed as I’d liked, and unless Lindsay and Scot are getting their own book (Yes, please!), they were a bit of a cliffhanger.

The sex scenes were H-O-T – Hot! I mean they were scorching. Rike is really, really, REALLY into Peyton. Consumed with her, but not in a controlling, stalkerish way. He can be bossy in bed (*swoon*) but he’s not an alpha-hole. When Peyton needs space he gives it to her. He knows when to push and when not to. He’ll be your next book boyfriend.

 

4LovesRLBFour Loves

Stacey Sig

 

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Nazarea Andrews’ Bio:

Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.

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Flame by Erin Noelle….Release Day

I’m soaring.
After years of hard work and determination, I am exactly where I want to be in life. As the top ranked Freestyle Motocross rider in the world, I have more money than I could ever dream of spending and gorgeous women throwing themselves at me in every city I land. I have everything I could ever want.
Everything except her.
While in Breckenridge for my best friend’s wedding, I was introduced to Dakota Shavell, a friend of the bride-to-be, and from the moment our blue gazes met, sparks flew.
What I initially intended to be a single steamy night together turned into a scorching two week road trip to New Orleans with a sassy-mouthed blonde. Being between her legs gave me a bigger adrenaline rush than I’d ever gotten from flying through the air while straddling a bike.
It was supposed to just be fun, a good time. I planned to walk away unchanged.
But it was more. Feelings I never intended to have got involved, and I’ll never be the same.
Yet, I still walked away.
Except now I’m injured and my outlook has changed. Priorities have become clear.
And I’m going back to reclaim her…to show her that together we can make the fire between us burst into flames.
***Though Flame is the second
book in the Fire on the Mountain Series, it is an interconnected stand alone
novel***

 

 

EXCERPT

El Pinto Mexican food restaurant is the fucking bomb. A combination of gorgeous, sprawling hacienda-style ambiance, delicious authentic New Mexico cuisine, mouth-watering pitchers of house fresh margaritas, and a fun-loving, exuberant group of people sitting with me around a patio table. My cheeks hurt from the permanent smile that’s been stamped across my face since the moment we stepped under the vine-covered arch and through the glass double doors. After several big O’s on the trek down here, and then this phenomenal meal, I’d have to say my impromptu summer road trip has started out a tremendous success.

“So you seriously know nothing about motocross or dirt bikes? You’ve never seen anything on TV like X-Games? Red Bull X-Fighters? Metal Mulisha? You don’t have any brothers into this stuff?” Gunner gawks at me in utter disbelief while the four of us finish our last drinks at the restaurant before heading back to Sandia Motocross Park, where the bus is parked.

Tapping my chin, I pretend to think for a moment then shake my head. “I mean I’m familiar with what the X-Games are. I do live in Colorado, the winter action sports mecca, but I don’t know anything specifically about motocross other than you ride a motorcycle on a dirt track stupidly fast and do crazy-ass stunts while flying through the air.”

Emilia bursts out laughing at my oversimplified explanation of what her husband and Levi do for a living, but the two guys are still in shock at my revelation. It’s like they’ve never met anyone else who isn’t up to date on all their lingo and shit. I should’ve never asked why people made that braaappp noise at the wedding…

“Oh, and I do have one brother,” I add, “but he’s eight and likes to snowboard in the winter and fish in the summer. If any of my sisters were into dirt bikes, it’d be Juno. She’s the athletic one—but softball and volleyball are more her thing.”

Another peculiar look from Gunner. “How many sisters do you have?”

“Five. There are seven of us total. All from the same parents, who yes, are still married.” I answer the questions I know are coming before he even asks. Everyone is always intrigued by the size of my family, especially in this day and age. “My family is a little…unconventional.”

“A little?” Emilia scoffs. “You call your parents by their first names, and you grew up on a weed farm! You’ve got the coolest fucking family ever. Plus, you all look like Barbie dolls! When I used to dream about running away from home, I either wanted to be a trapeze artist in the circus or a Shavell sister.”

Snickering, I wrap my lips around my straw and suck in the chilled, tangy strawberry margarita. “Either way, you would’ve been joining a circus. There’s never a dull moment in a house with ten people in it.”

“Sunshine,” Levi leans over to me, resting his hand on the inside of my thigh, right below the frayed hem of my shorts, “I promise I want to learn all about your family. They sound cool as fuck—especially the part about the weed farm—but can we get back to where you said motocross is driving fast and doing stupid, crazy-ass stunts while flying through the air? ’Cause if you’re gonna be my girl on this trip, we need to give you a crash course tonight in all things motocross, so you can truly appreciate my awesomeness when you see me in action.”

I blink hard. His girl? Did he already dip his grubby hand into Grams’ special cookies?

“Hulk,” I lift my hand up to cradle his chin, bringing my face close to his, “I’ve already appreciated your awesomeness in action earlier today, and it had nothing to do with dirt bikes. So unless you want to show me how you can eat dessert on one, I’ll pass on the crash course and embrace my lingo ignorance.”

His eyes grow wide at my suggestion, and suddenly, the space between my mouth and his is gone, obliterated by a searing, possessive kiss. My lips part on a quick inhale of surprise, and he takes full advantage of my momentary vulnerability, sliding his tongue into my mouth to tangle with mine.

Everyone and everything around us fades away while his hypnotic lips move over mine. The world could come crashing down all around us right now, and the only thing I’d be concerned about is how to prolong the mind-boggling way he makes me feel each time he kisses me. It’s like the first time every time. Pounding heart. Trembling hands. Fluttering belly. Sizzling core.

 

 

 

 

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Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child.

A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels. Her titles published include the Book Boyfriend Series, the Dusk ‘Til Dawn Series, Translucent, Conspire — co-authored with SE Hall, Surviving Us, MILF: Wrong Kind of Love and Spark.

Her books have been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.

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Getting Hot by Mia Storm..Chapter Reveal

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GettingHot AmazonRules of engagement:

1) You have the right to use force to defend yourself.

2) Fire may be returned to stop a hostile attack.

3) You may not seize the property of others to accomplish your mission.

4) Detention of civilians is authorized in self-defense.

Delilah Morgan and her older sister Destiny have been on their own for two years, since their parents burned down the family home and went to jail for cooking meth. She’s street smart and tough. Nothing about her says sixteen, and she’s not about to tell anyone, especially Bran, the hot ex-marine bartender Destiny has her eye on. He’s stable and successful and everything her sister needs to keep them off the street. The only problem, something about Bran inspires her and suddenly she’s writing the best music she ever has. About him.

Branson Silo knows what it means to be in the line of fire. Home for a year from his second tour of duty in Afghanistan, he thinks he’s safe…until he meets Delilah. Despite her sharp tongue that makes him want to take cover, he can’t deny the attraction. But when he hires her to play weekends at his family’s saloon, he finds out she’s more than he can handle…which is saying something considering he used to blow things up for a living.

When the grenade finally explodes and the shrapnel flies, will Bran be left standing? Or has he survived years at war only to be taken down by Jail Bait?

ADD TO GOODREADS

Chapter 1
Bran


I shouldn’t have fucked her last week. That was my mistake, and I feel like a douche—something I’m not used to.
I watch Destiny tuck a long strand of platinum hair behind her ear with her pen as she finishes taking drink orders at the table near the door. She shoots me a secret smile when she turns and makes her way over, and I mentally shoot myself for getting caught looking. This train’s already careening down the track, barely holding onto the rails, and when I pull shit like this, it only picks up momentum.
“We got Hendricks?” she asks, slapping her order on the ancient mahogany bar between us.
I look over the order. “Closest thing I got is Tanqueray.”
The smile falls off her face and she blows out a sigh. “I’ll ask him.”
I follow the curve where her tiny waist blooms into a killer ass as she turns and heads back to the table.
She’s hot. That’s what it boils down to. When I took her home last week, it was after her first training shift with Carol. We’d sat at the bar and knocked back a few after closing and I got caught up in everything she had going on. I totally missed the signs. I didn’t see that she was looking for more than a hookup until after it was too late—until she didn’t leave after we’d done the deed.
The only guy at the table with three women—some total wannabe with a dark suit jacket over a turtleneck and pressed jeans—scowls and gives Destiny some lip. I can’t hear what he says over the piped in Kat Country, but she shrugs and says something back, then offers me an apologetic squint when the guy pushes up from his seat. He starts my direction on polished loafers, but his eyes widen slightly and he pulls up short when he sees me.
The reaction’s not unusual. When I left for boot camp six years ago, I was already in decent shape. I was Oak Crest High’s first ever (and only, as far as I know) four sport athlete all for years—football in the fall, wrestling in the winter, and baseball and track in the spring. Which is probably a big part of the reason my grades weren’t good enough to do anything but enlist. But the Marines made all that training look like fucking Romper Room, and it was only a matter of weeks before my bulk didn’t fit into any of my old clothes anymore. Since Pop owns the local gym and my sister Brenda runs it, when I’m not working behind Mom’s bar at the Sam Hill Saloon, I spend most of my time lifting weights. I’ve managed to stay in pretty decent shape…which means guys like this pansy ass are generally intimidated. Course, the tattooed six-foot-three thing doesn’t hurt the intimidation factor. Since I let my dark flattop grow out, I look more like a biker than an ex-Marine.
After a beat, his shiny shoes start moving again but he stops three feet short of the bar, out of my wingspan. “Tanqueray or Tanqueray number ten?” he demands, putting on a “big man” show for the women he’s here with.
I step aside to show him the rack behind me and he flinches a little at my movement. “For top shelf gin, Tanqueray’s what I got.”
He closes his eyes for a moment and exhales his disappointment, then scans my top shelf again. “Tanqueray isn’t even in the same league as Hendricks.”
I shrug. “You want the citrus, I’d go with the Seagrams. Something drier, I’ve got Beefeaters.”
He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling as if my suggestions are all so far below him he’s afraid of getting a nosebleed if he has to look all the way down at them. “Just give me the Tanqueray. Make it a Tom Collins so I don’t have to taste it.”
He stalks back to his table and drops into his seat as I start on their order.
Destiny comes over and watches me mix. “That guy’s a jerk,” she say with a flick of her eyes back toward the wannabe professor. “Thank God he’s Carol’s to deal with in fifteen.”
“You’re giving Carol the tip?” I say with raised eyebrows.
Her lip curls. “Guys like that don’t tip.”
I lift my eyes to him as I shake his Tom Collins. “He give you a hard time?”
“He thought I should’ve known what kind of Tanqueray we have.” Her face scrunches. “I didn’t even know there were different kinds.”
I glance at the table again. City folk for sure. Probably up here in the foothills for something at the college. “Guess he didn’t realize he’d wandered out of his natural habitat.”
She busts out a laugh as I pour his drink into the highball. “So, I was thinking…” she says when her laugh dies. “I could swing by your place when you get off. If you want.”
“Listen…” I start, setting the drink on her tray. But just as I open my mouth to tell her I don’t do relationships, Mom shoves through the swinging door from the kitchen. Five years in the Marines and two tours in Afghanistan, and I’ve yet to come across another single person who intimidates me…except my mom. She makes some of my Marine COs look like kindergarten teachers.
“Hey Vicky,” Destiny says. “Has Carol punched in yet?” She tosses her eyes at Mr. Hendrick’s. “I’m giving her that table as soon as she does.”
“She just clocked in,” Mom answers, glancing suspiciously at the table. “What’s the issue?”
Destiny shrugs a shoulder and picks up the tray of drinks I slide across the bar to her. “That guy needs to get over himself. Carol’s better at dealing with people like that.”
It’s the “take no crap” chromosome in the Silo family gene pool. My cousin is almost as intimidating as Mom. She has a way of putting pricks like that in their place without them even realizing how it happened.
Just as I’m thinking it, I see her pass by the porthole in the wooden door to the kitchen, pulling her dark curls back into a ponytail. A second later, she pushes through the door.
She looks at the three of us and her eyes narrow as she slings her short, black apron under her bulging belly and ties it. “You guys do know that when everyone clams up and stares at you when you walk into a room, that’s a dead giveaway they were talking about you, right?”
“All good, cuz,” I say, lifting one hand in surrender while picking up my bar rag with the other.
She gives us a glare that could fry bacon. “I’m not fat.”
“No, you’re not,” Destiny says, handing her the tray of drinks. “But I’m punching out and I need you to take that table.”
Carol’s gaze shifts to the table in question. “What’s wrong with them?”
“The guy’s a sanctimonious prick,” I say wiping down the bar. “He needs to be reminded his shit still stinks in the way only you can.”
A slow smile pulls at her mouth and she takes the drink tray.
“He’s the Tom Collins,” Destiny says. “The chardonnay is for the girl on his right and the Cosmos are for the other two.”
She bats her eyelashes and starts toward the table. “Coming right up,” she says, all breathy and sweet.
Mom turns to me once she’s gone, her frown deepening. “I came out here to remind you to put a note in the drawer if you pull petty cash, Bran.”
I give her a dubious smirk. “Really, Ma? I’ve been doing this for almost a year. Think I’ve got the drill down by now.”
“Well, the drawer came up exactly sixty short last night. So how else do you explain that?”
I feel my brows lift. My drawer’s never off by anything more than a few pennies. “You sure you didn’t pull it for the wine order?”
She scowls at me and crow’s feet crease the corners of her eyes. “I might be old, but I’m not senile yet.”
For her age, I have to say Mom looks pretty damn amazing. She met Dad sometime in the stone ages, when she used to dance at a strip club in San Francisco, and even still, I can see why he picked her out of the crowd. She’s got a deep worry line at the inside corner of her right eyebrow, but otherwise her face is deceptively youthful. The only thing that gives her age away is the skunk stripe that starts on the left side of her forehead and winds through the sea of dark hair pinned onto the back of her head like a the first swirl of cream into black coffee.
“I didn’t take any cash, Ma. Seriously.”
She sighs wearily and rubs her eyes. “It’s been a long day. I’ll check the numbers again tomorrow morning when I can think.”
I lean down and give her a peck on the cheek. “’Night, Ma.”
She hooks her elbow around my neck and yanks me in for a hug. “See you tomorrow, baby boy.”
She’s the only one I’d ever let call me baby or honey or any shit like that because, like I said, I’m a little scared of her. I watch her disappear through the kitchen door.
And then it’s just Destiny, waiting for an answer.
I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly as I turn to her. “Listen, Destiny. There’s no question you are fucking amazing, and I had an awesome time the other night…but I feel like you might have gotten the wrong idea about what this is.” I drop the bar rag and splay my hands on the bar between us, holding her gaze. I may be a dick, but I’ve got a moral compass that points in the right general direction most of the time. She deserves to be told straight up. “I’m not the kind of guy that does relationships, and even if I were, you wouldn’t want one with me.”
It’s not like I expect her to whine or beg. I’ve only known her for a week, since Mom hired her for day shifts, but she seems generally more together than that.
What I also don’t expect is a shameless smile to spread over her face as she leans closer. “So, are you saying that pounding me until I scream your name is too much of a commitment?”
I blow out a laugh and give my head a slow shake. “This isn’t how I pictured this conversation going.”
She pushes away from the bar and unties her apron. “I’ll be back before closing. Maybe have a drink or two. And when you leave, if you take me with you, you won’t be sorry. If not…” She shrugs. “…no harm no foul.”
I watch as she disappears through the kitchen door behind Mom to punch out. Carol drops another drink order on the bar on her way to the kitchen and I go back to work.
The Friday evening crowd picks up and it’s not long before all the tables are full and patrons start lining the bar. I dim the lights—the closest we come to ambiance.
The Sam Hill Saloon has been here since the gold rush, when the town of Oak Crest was established as a mining camp. After they got married, Dad brought Mom out here and bought her this bar to keep her “busy,” since he didn’t want her taking off her clothes for horny men anymore. She got it in the divorce and has run it for the last thirty years, but the truth is, almost nothing here has changed for nearly three quarters of a century. There are pictures on the walls of grimy gold miners lined up at this very bar. Even most of the chunky wooden barstools and tables have survived. At some point, some owner lined the front wall under the windows with three booths, and Mom added a big-screen TV, but other than that, it looks exactly like the pictures. And there’s the faint stench of stale beer emanating from the floor planking that no amount of bleach will ever get out.
But it’s a landmark, and the only bar in town, so we’re usually busy.
I’m blending a pair of frozen daiquiris with one hand and shaking a martini with the other when out of the corner of my eye, I see a solo blonde slide onto the barstool at the end, near the beer taps. I finish what I’m doing and prepare the tray for Carol to pick up before glancing over and seeing its Destiny.
A guy in the middle of the bar makes eye contact and nods at his empty beer mug. I grab it and start filling without really looking up at her. “Didn’t think I’d see you again till closer to closing.”
“Sorry?” she says. “Are you talking to me?”
The voice is off—slightly raspy and a pitch lower than her usual. I look up again and squint at her, wondering if she’s already started drinking. She’s taken her straight hair down from the ponytail she always wears it in and it’s not as long as I remember it from the other night—the only other time I’ve seen it down. There’s also a fading blue stripe cutting through the platinum over her right ear that I’ve never noticed before.
“What can I get you?” I ask her instead of pushing it.
I’m already reaching for the vodka and cranberry to start on a Madras, her drink of choice last week, when she answers, “Rum and Coke.”
“That’s different,” I mutter, shooting her another glance.
She gives me a puzzled look. “Look, I really just wanted to find out if you hire entertainment.”
My face mirrors her puzzlement, I’m sure, as I try to process her statement. “Why?”
She hunches to the side and pulls something up from her feet. I see it’s a battered black guitar case when the narrow end peeks over the top of the bar. “Because I need a gig.”
“Didn’t know you played,” I say, pushing her drink across the bar to her.
That baffled look is back as she pulls it toward her and takes a swallow. I can’t help following the curve of her long neck downward toward a pair of large round tits perfectly outlined by her snug, low-cut T-shirt. She is definitely hot, and if we’re on the same page, then I’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. She wants me to fuck her till she screams? I’m perfectly capable of that. She sets her drink down and catches me staring. She cuts me that wicked smile again, causing my cock to stir. I return the smile, sending the innuendo right back at her.
She props her elbows onto the bar and leans forward, giving me a clear look down her shirt. “Considering that we’ve never met before, I don’t find that surprising.”
I’m so absorbed in images of my face buried in those magnificent tits that it takes me a second to process what she said.
My eyes snap to hers. “Wait…what?”
She reaches across the bar, offering me a hand. “Lilah.”
There’s a full second all I can do is stare, wondering if this is one of those split personality things you hear about sometimes. And in that second, through the dim lighting, I take in all the tiny details—a dark mole at the outer corner of her right eye; her eyes, silver instead of blue; the missing white crescent-shaped scar above Destiny’s right eyebrow; and lips, a little fuller than I remember—which are smirking at me now.
“You’re not Destiny,” I say as it all clicks.
It’s not a question, but she shakes her head. “No. I am most definitely not Destiny.”
“Twins?” I ask.
She cocks her head playfully. “What do you think?”
“You’ve got to be. You’re fucking identical except for the eyes.” I tap my forehead. “And you’re missing a scar.”
Her perfect blond eyebrow raises in amusement. “She’s the pretty one and I’m the smart one.”
I bark out a laugh as I reach across and shake her hand. “Bran Silo. Good to meet you.”
She doesn’t let go of my hand for a second after we’re done shaking—just long enough to send a clear message that she’s interested.
A knot forms in my gut, and I realize it’s guilt. Destiny and I have an understanding, but regardless, I’m pretty sure fucking her sister would be way outside the bounds of gentlemanly behavior. Not that anyone would ever mistake me for a gentleman. “Destiny never mentioned she had a sister.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.” She takes another drink, nearly polishing it off in a few big gulps.
I tip my head at it her glass. “Another?”
“My limit is one,” she says, pushing her glass toward me. “Just Coke this time, thanks.”
Carol sweeps by on her way to the kitchen, dropping an order on my bar. “Thought you left,” she says to Lilah without slowing down. “Careful or your favorite customer might ask for you,” she adds, jerking her head at Mr. Hendricks as she disappears through the swinging door.
I bark out a laugh as I scoop ice into Lilah’s glass and fill it with Coke. “Good to know I’m not the only one.”
Lilah shrugs. “Happens all the time.” She slides out of her chair, lifting the guitar case. “So do you want to hear me play or what?”
I look around the crowded room, loud with chatter, drowning out the background music. “We don’t generally have live entertainment,” I say, which is really an understatement. We’ve never had live entertainment. But for some reason, I’m not willing to shut Lilah down so fast.
When my eyes find her again, annoyed impatience shines loud and clear out of her gaze. “So that’s a no?”
I feel my mouth pull into a cocky half-smile. “I didn’t say that.”
She opens her case and pulls out her guitar, unabashedly climbing through the window I left ajar for her. I watch as she sets herself up on the stool and rests the guitar in her lap, gripping it softly but confidently. She starts strumming, and I expect her to be discrete, since this is basically an audition, but there’s not a shred of self-consciousness or embarrassment anywhere in her disposition as she begins to belt out lyrics—an old No Doubt song that I can’t remember the name of.
The way she plays, as if on instinct; the passion in her voice, and the fact that she’s really fucking good, starts to turn heads at the tables closest to us. As they quiet and listen, more tables still, and soon the only thing she’s competing to be heard over is the Kat Country on the speakers. But she doesn’t decrease her volume. If anything, as eyes find her, she becomes louder, feeding off the attention.
I reach under the bar and click off the stereo, then lean onto the back counter and cross my arms, listening as she finishes one song and launches into the next.
A guy at the bar pulls a five from his pocket and flags me down with it. I grab his beer mug, but he shakes his head. “Is there a tip jar?” he asks with a nod toward Lilah.
I pull a fresh mug from under the bar and he slips the five inside, then I set it at the end of the bar near Lilah. She cuts me a smile and her eyes slide down my body as she sings.
And fuck me. I lean my hands on the bar and press against the lower counter when my dick won’t yield to my will. Without a doubt, everything Destiny has going on, Lilah’s got that and more.EACH BOOK CAN BE READ AS A STAND-ALONE
GH teaser 3
About the Mia Storm:

Mia Storm is a hopeless romantic who is always searching for her happy ending. Sometimes she’s forced to make one up. When that happens, she’s thrilled to be able to share those stories with her readers. She lives in California and spends much of her time in the sun with a book in one hand and a mug of black coffee in the other, or hiking the trails in Yosemite. Connect with her online at MiaStormAuthor.blogspot.com , on Twitter at @MiaStormAuthor, and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/MiaStormAuthor

Newly Exposed by Meghan Quinn…Cover Reveal

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Title: Newly Exposed

Author: Meghan Quinn

Genre: New Adult

Cover Design: Meghan Quinn

Release Date: August 18th, 2015

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NewlyExposedAdam James is a corn-fed, Nebraska raised, piece of man meat with a chiseled body and baby face. He is in desperate need of a paycheck and will do just about anything to get one, including stripping down to his skivvies and lathering up in baby oil.

Solo Cohan is a quirky hipster with a strong work ethic,raised by two gay dads who are head over heels in love with Harrison Ford and Star Wars, hence the name, Solo. She works for Teeg Model Management, the same modeling agency that decides to book Adam as their next up and coming model. Sparks ignite between her and Adam the minute her baby oil soaked hand connects with his practically naked body.

Even though Solo can’t stop thinking about Adam during photo shoots, she quickly and awkwardly, shows Adam her distaste for male models and her inability to engage romantically with them. Adam is captivated by her nerdy talk and peculiar tendencies and sets out to make it his mission to turn the Star Wars loving hipster to the dark side, where mingling with models is widely arousing.

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00Born 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!

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