Two Wedding Crashers by Meghan Quinn….Excerpt Reveal

 

 

I don’t know what love is anymore.

Well, that’s not entirely true, but I’m going to tell you a little secret: I’ve lost the spark.

You know the kind of spark I’m talking about?

Where butterflies take flight in your stomach from two hands innocently colliding. Or catching your breath when you first meet someone attractive. Yeah, that spark.

Except I haven’t felt that feeling in forever; there is nothing left inside of me.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem–but I’m a writer on a serious deadline, and my editor is breathing down my neck for a romantic, Nicholas Sparks type love story. No pressure, right?

That’s how I find myself flying across the country to crash a wedding in the name of research, dress and heels stuffed into my small suitcase.

It should be the easiest book research ever. Drinking some free champagne, basking in the love of two strangers, and tapping into my romantic side. That will be a breeze. I’m a pro. I can handle this.

Until I mistakenly end up in the wrong hotel room, naked as the day I was born, with the sexiest human I have ever met staring me down, wondering what I’m doing taking a shower in his bathroom. I don’t think calling it research will get me out of this pickle.

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Crystal-blue ocean shines below me, and if I wasn’t so scared of Zoey and her repercussions for being late, I would take the time to appreciate Mother Nature. Instead I hurry into my room, flop my suitcase on my bed, unzip it, and grab my toiletries.

Not taking a second longer, I strip down, leaving my gross airplane clothes on the floor, and practically skip to the shower where I stop mid stride.

In the shower stall is a black razor, with accompanying shaving cream. That’s odd. Is that courtesy of the hotel? This place is fancy, but not that fancy. Spinning on my heel, I turn toward the sink behind me and spot a white and green toothbrush, tube of toothpaste, and men’s cologne. Shit, turning toward the room, my eyes frantically roam the space, spotting a black suitcase in the corner.

Shit, shit, shit.

Naked, I cover my breasts with my arm and open the closet door only to come face to face with a few hung-up shirts.

Yup . . . I’m in someone else’s fucking room.

And whoever this room belongs to is the neatest person ever because who honestly lines up there toothbrush and toothpaste tube perfectly on the counter?

Reaching for the phone, I call down to the front desk.

“Mr. Wilder, how can we assist you?” Oh yeah, totally not in the correct room.

“Uh, yeah, hi, this is Rylee Ryan. I just checked in. I was given the key to room 625 and it seems to be occupied.”

“Oh dear, let me check.” There is a pause on the phone and then the lady comes on the line again. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss. Ryan. We have you in room 626. Would you like to come down here and grab a new key?”

Is she kidding? The trek it took to get over here ate up enough of my time. I can’t possibly take a shower if I have to run back to the lobby, grab a key, and run all the way back here.

“Would you mind bringing it to room 625? I have dinner plans and have to get changed.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll send someone up with a key right away.”

“Thank you.”

I hop around naked, eyeing my pukey clothes on the floor and the shower in the other room. Twisting my lip to the side, I try to decide what to do. I can be super quick, like really fucking quick. I just need to scrub the puke and throw on a dress, simple. Two minutes tops. The water doesn’t even have to be warm. I’ll write a polite note to Mr. Wilder—whoever that is—leave him five dollars as a kind gesture and quietly leave. No problem with that. Right?

Right.

Turning on the shower, I hop in before the water can warm up and hiss from the frosty temperature. I douse soap all over my hands and scrub my neck and body vigorously first, which normally I would wash my hair first but . . . puke. Once I’m satisfied with the amount of scrubbing, I wash my hair, condition it in a minute, do one more soap scrubbing all over my body before rinsing and turning the shower off. Two minutes.

Just in case Mr. Wilder is sitting outside the bathroom, I peek my head out the door, towel wrapped around my body, and call out, “Hello?”

When there is no response, I check that the coast is clear then strut to my suitcase and find a simple black sundress. Not bothering to look for underwear or a bra—I really don’t need one with my perky B-cups—I lay out my dress and dry off.

Hopefully Mr. Wilder doesn’t mind me using one of his towels or his room for that matter. He’s probably some old dude away on his golfing vacation. I hope I don’t give him a heart attack.

I drape my towel over the bed and run my hands through my naturally wavy, black hair. This will have to do. Picking up my towel one more time, I scrunch my hair, trying to soak up all the water just as the hotel door swings open, light blaring through, a tall, dark silhouette shadowed in the doorframe.

I still, frozen from the tips of my toes to the hand scrunching a towel in my hair.

Toned calves and legs are covered by black board shorts, slick to his thighs, a bulge prominent. Narrow waist where his board shorts ride low on his hips, a black shirt dancing across his broad chest, cinching sleeves cuffed over his biceps, and a V-neck providing a glimpse of how far his tan extends. Head cast down, eyes transfixed on his phone in front of him, he doesn’t notice the naked girl standing in the middle of his hotel room. He stuffs his keycard in his back pocket and looks up, startled.

I scream.

He grumbles something unintelligible as I point out the obvious. “Ahhh, my boobs are naked!” It might be a little concerning that I consider my boobs to be the only things naked at this point.

As quickly as I can, I cover my body, towel making a poor attempt to hide my girly bits.

The man turns away, covering his eyes with his arm while muttering, “Oh shit.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask, struggling with my towel. I know damn well the man in front of me must be Mr. Wilder, and this is in fact his room, and I’m the one intruding, but I still feel the need to place the blame on him for walking in on me naked.

“Grabbing my sunglasses,” he says, his voice terrified but also deep and rumbly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Still trying to cover myself, I scramble to grab my dress and back up to the bathroom. “Washing my neck,” I answer, nervously, boobs swaying with my erratic movements.

Eyes still covered, he keeps his back toward me but straightens up. “Washing your neck? Is that code for some kind of weird Key West thing?”

I back into the bathroom and make quick attempt of putting my dress over my head and righting it so everything is covered up. Hair still damp as well as my body, I step out into the room and clear my throat, dress sticking to my damp skin. “No, it’s not code for anything. I really had to wash my neck.”

“And you chose my room to do that in, because . . .”

Bending down, I shove my dirty clothes in my bag and zip up, giving Mr. Wilder the heads-up that I’m dressed. At least he’s a gentleman . . .

When he turns around, he eyes me up and down, his gaze curious and heated when he sees just how hard my nipples are from the cold shower . . . and the unexpected peep show.

“I didn’t choose your room to take a shower in.” I move my suitcase to the floor and pull up the handle. “The hotel gave me the key to this room by mistake, and since I had puke on my neck from the airplane—long story—I decided to take a quick shower while I waited for my room. I apologize for taking up your space, but I think we’re skipping an important detail here.” I cock my hand on my hip. “You saw me naked.”

“No, I didn’t,” he retorts rather quickly, despite the slow grin that spreads across his face.

I’m calling bullshit. “You totally saw my boobs.”

“I really didn’t. Your scream scared the shit out of me. I didn’t have enough time to see anything before you covered up.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, I ask, “You promise you didn’t see anything?”

“Promise.”

Hmm. “Okay, because being hotel neighbors and all, that would be extremely awkward if you saw me naked.”

“Good thing I didn’t then.” He rocks back on his heels, hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do. Finally he reaches out to the desk next to him and holds up his black Ray Bans. “Just needed my sunglasses.”

 

 

 

 

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!

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Cake by Carmen Jenner…Blog Tour & Review

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Cake, an all-new romantic and hilarious standalone from USA Today bestselling author Carmen Jenner is available NOW!

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Poppy Porter’s ex is getting married … to her ex-best friend. To land her dream job of partner in the most prestigious firm on the Upper East Side, Poppy must now pull double shifts as their wedding planner and maid of honor. And the icing on a truly craptastic cake? Leo Nass. Handsome, infuriating, womanizer, and … the best man. Despite their longstanding loathing, Poppy doesn’t see Leo coming. Literally.

One ruined cake.

One archnemesis.

One hour to save the wedding.

Can they put their hatred aside long enough to save Poppy’s job and Bridezilla’s head from exploding?

Piece of cake, right?

Excerpt:

I sneak closer to the bed, my heart pounding as I throw the pillow at him. The guy shifts in his sleep, and his breathing slows, but a beat later the snoring starts again and I have to resist the urge to scream. Instead, I raise my poker and jab the sheet covered body. It’s not hard, just a quick jab or two, but he still doesn’t stir.

“Hey, asshole!” I shout, and whack him hard in the butt with my poker.

The giant freak jumps up and seizes my hand. His grip forces me to drop my weapon. He yanks me toward him—on top of him—and this is how I find myself eye to eye with the beast. He breathes his heavy, stinking breath on my face, and I wince and wrinkle my nose.

Leo’s eyes crinkle in the corners as he laughs. “Morning, Pop Tart.”

“Get the hell out of my bed. And brush your goddamn teeth. What are you doing in my house, Nass?”

“Ah, still feisty, huh? Is this like an all-day thing with you, or do you eventually turn from an angry sea witch into a person? Would coffee help?”

“Fuck you, Leo.”

“Darlin’, you wish.”

“You’re disgusting. I wouldn’t touch you if—”

“Yeah, yeah, if I were the last man on Earth. I’ve heard it all before, sweet cheeks, and I don’t buy it for a second.” He flips us so suddenly my head spins. I’m beneath him, my wrists pinioned to the bed above my head by just one of his strong hands. The other glides up my side. My sheets have twisted up around us, but from this angle it looks as if Leo Nass is very much naked in my bed.

“Goddamn it,” I complain once I find my voice. “I’m going to need to burn these sheets after you leave.”

His eyebrow quirks, and the grin he gives me is all-out salacious. He shifts his weight between my legs, then he drops his hips and grinds his erection against me. I’m stunned, speechless. I have no words. They’ve all left me because my brain has turned to mush and my vagina is the only one thinking, and I’m really not okay leaving her in charge. “Why burn them when we’re not done messing them up?”
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Carmen Jenner, bravo on this one!! I loved every bit of this book.

I was not sure what to expect when I started this book, as this is only my second book by Carmen, but I know that I enjoyed her writing on the first book I read. So I at least knew I would enjoy the writing; but I absolutely loved this whole story.

“Nass the Ass”

Those three words will forever be stuck in my head and will always remind of this book and why it is so great. “Nass the Ass” is Leo Nass, Poppy’s archnemeis and best friend of her now ex-fiancé. The ex-fiancé’s who’s wedding she is now assisting to her best friend, well now, ex-best friend. And let me make it clear that Poppy is not letting them walk all over her with this one. She’s doing it to keep her job and also get that damn promotion she’s wanted. So, Poppy is being the bigger person and taking one for the team.

But not only is she coordinating this wedding, her supposed best friend wants Poppy to be her maid of honor!! Oh people, let me tell you it’s just getting started. To top it all off, Leo is bestman. So everyone that Poppy would prefer to never deal with again, they’re all front and center of her life right now. And it’s quite the spectacle. LOL

I loved the interactions and banter between everyone. I don’t think there was a time I was not double over laughing at something. And it wasn’t anything too over the top or too cheesy either. It felt all flowed naturally with these characters and I felt like I was watching a TV show or movie play out.

This is one book that I highly urge EVERYONE to read!!

 

 

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About Carmen:

Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA Today and international bestselling author.

Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU, 2015.

A tattoo enthusiast, hardcore makeup addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny North Coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child.

A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture?
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Connect with Carmen:

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

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

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

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http://www.carmenjenner.com

Release Day Blitz…Cake by Carmen Jenner

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Cake, an all-new romantic and hilarious standalone from USA Today bestselling author Carmen Jenner is LIVE!

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Poppy Porter’s ex is getting married … to her ex-best friend. To land her dream job of partner in the most prestigious firm on the Upper East Side, Poppy must now pull double shifts as their wedding planner and maid of honor. And the icing on a truly craptastic cake? Leo Nass. Handsome, infuriating, womanizer, and … the best man. Despite their longstanding loathing, Poppy doesn’t see Leo coming. Literally.

One ruined cake.

One archnemesis.

One hour to save the wedding.

Can they put their hatred aside long enough to save Poppy’s job and Bridezilla’s head from exploding?

Piece of cake, right?

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Read Today!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2t08Ci3

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/CakeCJ

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2CNzLZN

Make_You_Beg_Tease_Cake_Carmen_Jenner.jpg

About Carmen:

Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA Today and international bestselling author.

Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU, 2015.

A tattoo enthusiast, hardcore makeup addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny North Coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child.

A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture?

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Connect with Carmen:

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

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

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http://www.carmenjenner.com

Release Day Blitz…..Love Broken by J.D. Hollyfield

Title: Love Broken
Author: J.D. Hollyfield
Genre: RomCom/Contemporary
Release Date: February 26, 2018

My name is Katie Beller, but the world, as of late, knows me as Bailey Swan, the love guru behind my bestselling book.

Want the shortened version? Here it is: 

Love was stupid.

A fake. A farce

Love was broken. 

Women everywhere were eating up my advice and fighting back against fake love. My book started a relationship revolution. And I stood by my story. 

Until I met Charlie Bates.

When I throw all my own rules and advice out the window after a week-long rendezvous, I start to wonder just how real my words were. Maybe love might be just a little more complicated than I thought. 

Maybe I’m the one who’s love broken.

 

Abby McCarthy – “If you want to swoon, laugh, smile, and even blush, pick up this romcom!”

 

Dawn, Two Unruly Girls – “I was HOOKED.”

Next Chapter Book Blog – “Five trillion heart wrenching amaze-balls stars!!!”

 

On Authors Page

 

Creative designer, mother, wife, writer, part time superhero…

J.D. Hollyfield is a creative designer by day and superhero by night. When she’s not trying to save the world one happy ending at a time, she enjoys the snuggles of her family and three doxies. With her love for romance, and head full of book boyfriends, she was inspired to test her creative abilities and bring her own story to life.

J.D. Hollyfield lives in the Midwest, and is currently at work on blowing the minds of readers, with the additions of her new books and series, along with her charm, humor and HEA’s.

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Cover Reveal… Cake by Carmen Jenner

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Cake, an all-new romantic and hilarious standalone from USA Today bestselling author Carmen Jenner is coming March 1st!

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Title: Cake

Author: Carmen Jenner

Genre: Rom-com

Cover Design: Ben Ellis, Be Designs

Illustration: Yehuda Devir

Release Date: March 1, 2018

Poppy Porter’s ex is getting married … to her ex-best friend. To land her dream job of partner in the most prestigious firm on the Upper East Side, Poppy must now pull double shifts as their wedding planner and maid of honor. And the icing on a truly craptastic cake? Leo Nass. Handsome, infuriating, womanizer, and … the best man. Despite their longstanding loathing, Poppy doesn’t see Leo coming. Literally.

One ruined cake.

One archnemesis.

One hour to save the wedding.

Can they put their hatred aside long enough to save Poppy’s job and Bridezilla’s head from exploding?

Piece of cake, right?

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SIGN UP TO BE NOTIFIED ON RELEASE DAY:

https://www.subscribepage.com/cake

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2CNzLZN

About Carmen:

Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA Today and international bestselling author.

Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU, 2015.

A tattoo enthusiast, hardcore makeup addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny North Coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child.

A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture?
Author_Photo.jpg

Connect with Carmen:

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CarmenJAuthor

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

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

SnapChat: https://www.snapchat.com/add/TheCarmenJenner

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2BKhcoL

Stay up to date with Carmen by joining her mailing list here:

http://carmenjennerauthor.blogspot.com.au/p/blog-page.html

http://www.carmenjenner.com

Release Day Blitz…The Coaching Hours by Sara Ney

 

 

 

THERE ARE NO DOUCHEBAGS IN THIS STORY.

Well, there are, but they’re not who this story is about.

This story is about me—the coach’s daughter.

When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university’s take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie—living with my father would be temporary, and he’d make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone.

Wrong on both counts.

ASSHOLES ALWAYS COME OUT OF THE WOODWORK WHEN THE STAKES ARE HIGH.

A bet is placed, and I’m on the table. After one humiliating night and too much alcohol, I find the last nice guy on campus. And when he offers to rent me his spare bedroom, I go all in. It’s time for the nice guy to finish first.

Midnight chats and spilling my problems turn to lingering touches. Lingering touches turn to more.

And the ultimate good guy has the potential do more damage than any douchebags ever could.

 

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She perks up. “Wait, you’ve never had a back massage?”

 

“No?”

 

“Ever?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Well, what the hell? How can I, in good conscience, lie here letting you rub my back when you’ve never had anyone rub yours?” She scoots over, pointing to the mattress. “Lie on your stomach, I’ll do you first.”

 

I wave my hands in front of me in protest. The last thing I need is her warm hands roaming my body. “No, no, you don’t have to. It’s not a big deal.”

 

“Are you crazy? Back massages are the best—like, better than an orgasm. You’re first, so lie down.”

 

“And you call me the bossy one?”

 

“Quit stalling and get on the bed.”

 

Obediently, I climb to the middle of my bed in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, legs hanging off the side. Next to me, the mattress dips, Anabelle on her knees, approaching my side.

 

A finger glides down my spine. “It will be easier for me to do this if I’m sitting on you. Hope that’s okay.”

 

“Is that the approved method?”

 

“No, but my arms will get tired if I have to lean over you the whole time.”

 

“Do whatever then, I don’t care.”

 

I stiffen when Anabelle swings one leg over my body, straddling my ass. Warm palms at my lower back.

 

“You’re so tense. Try to relax,” she coos, making it worse. “Tilt your head to the side, that’s it.”

 

I hear the lotion bottle snap open. Click closed. My roommate’s palms rubbing together, warming it up. “Sorry, I don’t have any actual massage oil. This will have to do.”

 

When her hands make contact with my back, I almost groan it feels so fucking good. Warm. Smooth. Pressure in all the right places, pushing gently into my muscles.

 

Slowly.

 

Slower still, caressing along my shoulders, thumbs and fingers working together to soothe the burning on my right side.

 

“Doesn’t this feel great?” Her soft voice cuts into the silence. “You’re loosening up. That’s good.”

 

I feel her leaning as her hands move up and down my spine until they stop, hovering at the base of my neck. Thumbs stroking the skin below my hairline, back and forth.

 

Kneading.

 

Her torso dips, hands maneuvering my arms, placing them at my sides. Palms slide up and down my biceps.

 

For several minutes, she rubs my arms and shoulders. Then she skims down my ribcage unhurriedly, in no rush, making little humming sounds inside her throat.

 

I know I’m not imagining the feather-light way her hands drift down my spine. I remain still, letting her touch me, basking in it.

 

Remain still when her lips kiss the tender spot of my shoulder where it meets my neck, nose nuzzling behind my ear, her breasts rubbing against my back and what the fuck was that all about? What does she think she’s doing, trying to drive me insane?

 

 

 

 

 

Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte’s, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.

She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.

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Release Day Blitz….The Beau & The Belle by R.S. Grey

THE BEAU & THE BELLE by R.S. Grey is available now! Don’t miss your hands on this new romantic comedy – read for free with Kindle Unlimited or grab it for just $2.99!

 

About THE BEAU & THE BELLE

Beau Fortier starred in most of my cringe-worthy teenage fantasies.

I met him when I was a junior in high school, a time that revolved exclusively around bad hair, failed forays into flirting, and scientific inquiries into which brand of toilet paper worked best for stuffing bras.

That is, until Beau moved into the small guest house just beyond my bedroom window.

A 24-year-old law student at Tulane, Beau was as mysterious to me as second base (both in baseball and in the bedroom). He was older. Intimidating. Hot. Boys my age had chicken legs and chubby cheeks. Beau had calloused hands and a jaw cut from steel. Our interactions were scarce—mostly involving slight stalking on my end—and yet deep down, I desperately hoped he saw me as more of a potential lover than a lovesick loser.

Turns out, I was fooling myself. My fragile ego learned that lesson the hard way.

Now, ten years later, we’re both back in New Orleans, and guess who suddenly can’t take his eyes off little ol’ me.

My old friend, Mr. Fortier.

But things have changed. I’m older now—poised and confident. My ego wears a bulletproof vest. The butterflies that once filled my stomach have all perished.

When I was a teenager, Beau warned me to guard my heart.

Let’s hope he knows how to guard his.

Add THE BEAU & THE BELLE to your Goodreads list here!

Get your hands on THE BEAU & THE BELLE now:

★AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/2DVSRNd
★AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079D852KG
★AMAZON CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B079D852KG
★AMAZON AU: http://amzn.to/2DGRoqO

 

About R.S. Grey

R.S. Grey is the USA Today bestselling author of thirteen novels, including THE FOXE & THE HOUND. She lives in Texas with her husband and two dogs, and can be found reading, binge-watching reality TV, or practicing yoga! Visit her at rsgrey.com

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Stud by Kelly Siskind…Release Day Blitz & Review


Title: Stud
Author: Kelly Siskind
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: January 31, 2018 

 

A down-to-earth carpenter. A Prada loving personal shopper. 

 

A Habitat for Humanity project that erects more than walls…

 

The word “nail” has so many meanings:

Ainsley Hall’s manicured nails belong in the Museum of Modern Art.
The fashionista hammers nails at Habitat for Humanity.
She desperately wants to nail Owen Phillips.

Unfortunately, she mistakenly thinks he’s gay.

Owen’s never-ending divorce has taken a turn from messy to downright vindictive. Yearning for the simpler things in life, like working with his hands, he joins a Habitat build. Turns out he also wants to work over Ainsley Hall…but the confusing bombshell flirts blatantly with other men.

When Ainsley discovers Owen’s true sexuality, their mutual attraction ignites, but he hasn’t shared the extent of his divorce drama. If he can’t disprove his ex’s false allegations, it will take more than hammers and nails (and nailing studs) to keep their walls from caving in.

Her gaze dipped down my body, slow and languid, soaking me in. Something in me twitched to life, like a phantom limb reminding me hot blood once pumped through my veins. All my veins. My groin got heavy, heat flushing my thighs. Because she looked at me.I let that notion marinate and did my best to keep my brain on target. “If you plan on volunteering, show up at the construction site at 8:30 a.m. sharp. Nick will take you through the paces.”

“Will you be here?”

“Possibly.”

“Are you here every day?”

“Some.”

“Do you often answer questions with one word?”

“Depends.”

She tipped her head, those stunning eyes intent upon me. Suddenly, heading home for beers and pizza didn’t sound as appealing. I dug my boots deeper into the earth.

She swiped her tongue across her full bottom lip. “All right, tough guy. I’ll be here next week, volunteer ready, where you may or may not be, depending on if you do or do not decide to show up.”

Every word dripped with flirtatiousness, but I stayed quiet. The way I’d all but grunted at her so far, probably better to keep my mouth shut.

So we stood there—her waiting on me to speak, a skateboarder barreling down the road at our left. Me unsure why she was affecting me.

I missed being with a woman. Missed the slide of soft skin and wet mouths, and locking my girl in my arms for the night. But I’d sworn I’d do it right this time. Not rush in. Make sure I dated someone with depth and interests outside of making bank. Everything about this spitfire girl read narcissistic.

When our silence slipped into awkward, she fluttered her fingers in my face. “It’s been…interesting.”

I offered her a curt nod.

Chuckling to herself, she spun around, but her right heel wedged into the loose dirt. Those damn shoes were lethal. She sank an inch and teetered, but seemed to catch herself. Then her massive purse fell. The thick strap landed on her forearm, tipping the balance. She shot out her hand, struggling to stay upright.

I lunged for her, clasping her trim waist to hold her steady. And close. Too close. Not near enough for her to feel how I was thickening behind my zipper, but the air swelled. It dilated with feminine scents. Something sweet. Nice. 
She smelled like chocolate.

My hands spanned her waist from behind, her curves above and below all woman. Hour glass, like a modern-day Marilyn Monroe. Jean Harlow. Mae West. Over the years, I’d watched every classic movie there was, wishing I could slip to a time when men danced and women sang and loyalty and love were valued over getting ahead. An old soul, my nana always said. Or a romantic. Or just plain trouble.

Now I had my hands on a dangerous beauty.

 

Kelly became one of those go-to and auto-buy authors after I read her Over the Top series in 2016. And she just keeps the excitement alive in her writing with Stud.

Kelly has this witty humor in her writing that keeps it from becoming too obnoxious and over the top. Ainsley and Owen have some of the best chemistry between two characters. I love how the story pans out and things come to fruition. I found myself laughing out loud at certain moments because I was caught up in the book – the book felt alive to me.

I won’t give any details of the book because, as with most books, it’s just better to go in blind only knowing that you are going to fall in love with the characters and their story. Speaking of characters, the secondary characters in this book were just as amazing. I love how Kelly prepares you for the next book without taking away from this one. Everything just flows right.

Ainsley and Owen will win you over from start to finish. Your heart will break for Owen because of his past and difficult divorce and you will find yourself connecting to Ainsley because of her previous relationship woes. It’s impossible to not relate and feel for these two. The banter between one another is perfect and their story is amazing.

Kelly has written another sweet and hilarious romance that I could not get enough of. Bring on the next book!!

 

A small-town girl at heart, Kelly moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in northern Ontario. When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head. She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings—gummy bears heal all. She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.


HOSTED BY:

The Break Series by Andrea Johnston….Release Day Blitz

 

 

Title: The Break Series: Phoebe & Madsen
The Love Story
Author: Andrea Johnston
Genre: New Adult RomCom
Release Date: January 25, 2018
Blurb
Spring
Break brought them together.
Summer
Break tore them apart.
Winter
Break will tell them if love is really enough.
Phoebe
Stromberg never believed she would be charmed by her brother’s best friend,
Madsen Secksin. But charm her he did. With a kind heart and sexy as sin smile,
he was the one man who made her believe in a forever kind of love.
Madsen
Secksin knew Phoebe Stromberg was a force of nature, he never believed she’d be
the clam to his storm. With her fiery attitude, self-imposed boundaries, and
refusal to label their relationship, he hoped distance would strengthen their
bond.
Join Phoebe
and Madsen as they spend their Spring, Summer, and Winter Breaks determining
how much more they can be and how good life is when you find the one to
complete your heart.
NOTE: This is a 3 part short story series released over 2017
but now combined into a single Ebook and paperback with a bonus chapter.

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AUFree in Kindle Unlimited

 

 

Author Bio
Andrea
Johnston spent her childhood with her nose in a book and a pen to paper. An
avid people watcher, her mind is full of stories that yearn to be told.  A
fan of angsty romance with a happy ending, super sexy erotica and a good
mystery, Andrea can always be found with her Kindle nearby fully charged.
Andrea
lives in Idaho with her family and two dogs.  When she isn’t spending time
with her partner in crime aka her husband, she can be found binge
watching all things Bravo and enjoying a cocktail. Nothing makes her happier
than the laughter of her children, a good book, her feet in the water, and
cocktail in hand all at the same time.
Author Links

Cover Reveal….Stud by Kelly Siskind

Title: Stud
Author: Kelly Siskind
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: January 31, 2018 

A down-to-earth carpenter. A Prada loving personal shopper. 

 

A Habitat for Humanity project that erects more than walls…

 


 

The word “nail” has so many meanings:
Ainsley Hall’s manicured nails belong in the Museum of Modern Art.
The fashionista hammers nails at Habitat for Humanity.
She desperately wants to nail Owen Phillips.
Unfortunately, she mistakenly thinks he’s gay.
Owen’s never-ending divorce has taken a turn from messy to downright vindictive. Yearning for the simpler things in life, like working with his hands, he joins a Habitat build. Turns out he also wants to work over Ainsley Hall…but the confusing bombshell flirts blatantly with other men.
When Ainsley discovers Owen’s true sexuality, their mutual attraction ignites, but he hasn’t shared the extent of his divorce drama. If he can’t disprove his ex’s false allegations, it will take more than hammers and nails (and nailing studs) to keep their walls from caving in.

 

 

“…a sexy and steamy read with loads of flirty and witty banter. Siskind knows how to write characters that have off-the-charts chemistry.” ~ RT Book Reviews


“Kelly has outdone herself with this book!” ~ Blushing Mom Book Reviews



“If you like your stories smart, snappy, and stuffed with sweet emotion (and even sweeter heat), Owen and Ainsley will not disappoint.” ~ Bookgasms Book Blog

 

A small-town girl at heart, Kelly moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in northern Ontario. When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head. She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings—gummy bears heal all. She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.
HOSTED BY:

Three Blind Dates by Meghan Quinn…Blog Tour & Review

 

 

 

 

“Good Morning Malibu, it’s another beautiful day on the west coast! I’m Noely Clark, your host: and I’m in the market for love…”

When the publicity team of the new local restaurant, Going in Blind, began their search for a hot, local celebrity to promote the wildly popular eatery, they couldn’t have found a better person than me.

Outgoing? Check.
Single? Check.
Open to finding love? Check.

I signed up immediately.

A hopeless romantic with an exceedingly demanding schedule, I’ve found it impossible to find the man of my dreams—so Going in Blind seems too good to be true! That’s until they start setting me up on dates—three very different, very attractive, very distinct blind dates—and only one thing is for certain . . .

I’m in big trouble.

Good Morning Malibu,
I’m Noely Clark, and I have a choice to make.
The question is who will I choose; the suit, the rebel, or the jock

AMAZON | AMAZON PRINT | AMAZON UK | AMAZON AU | AMAZON CA

 

 

 

Meghan Quinn, you have truly delivered a great adventure in seeing how someone can be compatible to three different people.

Three Blind Dates reveals how three totally different men – The Suit, The Rebel and The Jock – are matched with one woman, Noely, a morning show TV host who has finally realized she is done with the dating scene. She wants to find her “One.”

But just as life goes, it’s not as easy as it appears or in this case, as easy as a computer system finding your perfect match. Noely ends up dating three completely different men who are matched up to her. No, she does not date them all at the same time; she ends up dating all three when a previous match does not pan out for various reasons. Let’s just say that time was definitely not on Noely’s side when she is paired with each man. But it’s the mysterious fourth man that enters her life that truly wins her over.

Meghan does a miraculous job of having you fall for each gentleman that Noely meets. You will find yourself rooting for one of them to win her heart over, including who the mysterious man is in the end. I have to say that I was rooting for one in particular and in the end, he did win out, which of course made me even happier.

I can’t not mention Noely’s best friend and co-host, Dylan in this review. Dylan is a hoot and definitely a great partner-in-crime for Noely. She may be happily married, but she loves hearing all the juicy tidbits just as much as we do and she cracks me up the whole book with her antics. We all need a Dylan in our lives, just saying.

Meghan does not leave us hanging either. We do get to see how the other two men move on in life with their own books, which are the next two in this series. And no, I am not spoiling who wins her heart – read and find out. I guarantee you will enjoy every step of Noely’s dating adventures.

 

 

 

I didn’t realize how close I was to the restaurant because I’m ten minutes early. Does that make me seem desperate? No, I chastise myself. It shows that I respect the other person’s time . . . right?

God, dating is the worst. There are so many unspoken rules you have to follow to not look desperate, or to not look like a psycho, or a creep, or horny, or—

“Can I help you, miss?”

Straightening up, I turn toward the hostess stand, which is a beautifully carved piece of wood. Standing behind it is an exotic, tall woman with long black hair, stunning grey eyes, and a massive engagement ring on her hand. Please tell me she got that rock from dating someone in this program.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that happiness for my life is dependent on getting married, but to see a success story in the flesh—particularly for me—would be encouraging.

“Hi, yes, I’m Noely Clark. I have a date at seven tonight with”—I lean forward, feeling silly and whisper—“with WindsorKnot.”

Her smile is kind and reassuring, making me feel a little calmer. “Yes, Miss Clark, I have you here for seven. You’re date hasn’t arrived yet, so can I show you to the bar for a drink while you wait?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

With my clutch tucked under my arm, I follow tall, dark, and beautiful to the bar where a very handsome Asian man is standing with a towel draped over his shoulder and a bright grin on his face. He’s wearing a button-up shirt with rolled sleeves, a brown vest covering his chest, which totally channels his inner Justin Timberlake.

“Danny, this is Miss Clark. She has a reservation at seven. Would you be so kind to make her whatever drink she would like?”

“Of course.” He winks at the hostess who presses her warm hand on my arm.

“Enjoy, Miss Clark. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. My name is Veronica, this is Danny, and we will be happy to serve you in any way.” With a parting grin, she moves back to her hostess spot.

Well, she’s nice.

“Miss Clark, please take a seat. What would you like?”

My tight, formfitting red dress makes my hop onto the bar stool a difficult task, but with a pleading prayer to the dress gods and a swift jump, I situate myself, only breaking a minor sweat.

I let out a sigh of relief and place my hands on the bar in front of me, scanning the glitzy bottles of “muscle relaxant.” “Hmm . . . how about a Moscow Mule?”

“Coming right up.” He gets to work and I watch as he magically floats around the bar, pulling the ingredients. “We recently bought new copper mugs, and I’ve been dying to use them.”

“Yeah? Am I the first?”

Winking, he says, “You are.”

If I didn’t know any better, I would say Danny is a bit of a flirt. Either that or he’s super friendly. Or simply made to be a bartender.

From beneath the bar, Danny pulls out a shiny, hammered-copper mug, and I’m instantly taken by the design. So sleek, just like its surroundings. The restaurant, with its white exposed brick, natural wood features, electric colors, and stone tabletops, is sexy, yet inviting. The friendly waitstaff is an absolute bonus. Every table is cornered off in its own spot, never getting too close to the other tables around it, and the mood lighting is on point with dim Edison bulb lights hanging from the ceiling and tabletop candles. I’m feeling the mood.

Despite the welcoming atmosphere, I can’t help but feel nervous, even after my brief exchange with WindsorKnot. There’s something to say about a blind date: the anticipation, the unknown, the knowledge that you’re having dinner with someone to possibly form a romantic relationship. It’s intimidating, but exhilarating all at the same time.

Could this be the last time I ever go on a first date? Will he like me? Will he want to get to know me?

Butterflies float around in my stomach and my cheeks heat as Danny places a napkin in front of me, topped by my drink with a lime slice on the side.

“Here you go, Miss Clark. Please enjoy.”

I smile politely. “Thank you.” When I take a sip, I’m instantly assaulted by the ginger-lime combination. Perfect. “This is fantastic.”

“Good.” Danny winks again and like an old-time bartender, starts drying a tumbler with the towel hanging over his shoulder. Eyeing me for a second, he asks, “A little nervous?”

After taking a sip from my drink, I lick my lips and nod. “Just a little.” I scrunch my nose, squinting ever so slightly. “Is it obvious?”

“Nah, you look pretty chill compared to a lot of blind daters I see come through the door.”

“Oh, I’m sure you see a lot of different reactions to these dates.” I lean forward, the cold wood of the bar cooling my sweaty hands, and whisper, “Any good stories you can tell me?”

Danny chuckles quietly and leans forward himself, taking a look from side to side before answering. “Plenty, but looks like your date just arrived.”

My date just arrived?

The temperature in the room seems to go up a thousand degrees as my body seizes and my shoulders tense. “Oh God, can you see him? Is he hot? What does he look like? Should I turn around? No, I shouldn’t, he would know I was checking him out.” Whispering a little louder, I ask again, “Just tell me, is he cute?”

Danny’s eyes scan over my head and his smile stretches across his face. “That’s for you to judge, not me.” Damn you, Danny.

Oh Christ, I’m not ready.

That’s right, I’m not freaking ready for this.

I get it, I know I said I was ready, that I wanted to do this, that I was all-in, that I wanted to find my soul mate, but now that I’m here, seconds from meeting “the one,” I’m pretty sure I’m going to throw up. Yep, I’m going to throw up. I can feel it rising.

Oh God, I’m going to retch all over him, right on his shoes. I know it. It’s bound to happen.

“Relax, you’re going to have fun,” Danny whispers before he turns to the bottles behind him.

As if the light hairs on my arm can sense it, they stand at attention as the sound of faint footsteps come closer.

Click, click, click. The cement floor leaves zero room for sneaking up on anyone.

Don’t throw up, don’t throw up. Think compliments, think pleasantries, think—

“Hello.”

Smooth molasses drips over my shoulders as the most velvet of voices I’ve ever heard echoes behind me, pulling me away from the death grip on my copper mug and turning me in my seat to face one of the most handsome and polished men I’ve ever seen.

 

 

 

 

 

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!

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