Book Tours

BLOG TOUR & REVIEW: FORGET ME NOT by Brooke Blaine

 

Experience the heartbreakingly beautiful journey of Ollie & Reid in…

Forget Me Not, the first all-new contemporary MM Romance in The Unforgettable Duet, from Brooke Blaine is available NOW!

FMN-Full-FINAL

Three sugars, two creamers.

That’s how you took your coffee every morning at Joe’s Grab ’N Go.

But you don’t remember that.

You don’t remember anything.

Anything, that is, except me…

That day…

And the tragedy that catapulted us together.

CHAPTER ONE

“IT’S MONDAY, AND you know what that means,” Mike said as he cut off Big Bertha’s engine and looked over at me expectantly.

I patted my pants pocket to make sure I’d shoved my wallet inside before we’d headed out this morning, and when I felt the outline of the trifold, I nodded. “Yep. Extra-bold coffee comin’ up.” As I popped open the passenger-side door, Mike’s hand landed firmly on my arm, halting me before I could get out of the ambulance, and I looked back at him over my shoulder.

“It means don’t be a chickenshit, Ollie, that’s what it means.”

Lifting my eyebrows, I glanced around, searching for whoever it was Mike thought he was talking to, and when he read my quizzical expression, he snorted.

“Yeah, that means you,” he said.

“You callin’ me out?”

“Damn right I am.”

I shook my head. “I’m not a chickenshit, and you know it.”

Mike shrugged and let go of my arm. “Fine. Prove it.”

“I can’t do that.”

“You can. You just won’t.”

Yeah, whatever, he had me there. Something always held me back from saying much more than hello to the guy in the fitted chinos and starched collared shirt and tie that I saw most mornings in the coffee aisle at Joe’s Grab ’N Go, and Mike never could resist an opportunity to rib me for it. I never should’ve told him about my crush in the first damn place, but being my best friend as well as my work partner meant we tended to overshare in the time between calls.

“He’s straight, Mike. Leave it alone, huh?”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

I picked up a container of mints and shook a couple into my mouth before tossing it back in the console. “Trust me. I know.”

“You ask him since the last time I saw you?”

Rolling my eyes, I ignored his question and pushed open my door. “You want that coffee or not?”

“Mhmm. The date for you, too.”

“Jesus,” I muttered, slamming the door before he could make any other requests. I could hear him chuckling behind me as he got out to pump the gas. And out of the corner of my eye, a flash of red pulling into a parking spot had my heart beating a bit faster. It was ridiculous that I’d even wonder for a second if I’d see him, since hardly a weekday had gone by in four months when I hadn’t. But that flutter of anticipation still sent a thrill through me, the handful of minutes seeing him every morning the highlight of my day.

That’s it. I need to get my damn life back. Working all these overtime shifts to pick up some extra cash over the holidays—and giving the guys with families some time off—had sent my extracurricular activities into a tailspin. If I didn’t get laid soon, I’d crash and burn. Or, worse, hit on the straight guy.

“Hey, Ollie,” Mike called out, and I paused with my hand on the door to the Grab ’N Go before moving aside to let the woman behind me pass through. When I turned around, a mischievous grin played on his lips as he inserted the gas pump into Big Bertha’s tank and began to hip-thrust.

Oh for the love of—

“And while you’re at it, maybe grab me one of those apple fritters, would ya? And a soda for later?”

So much for New Year’s resolutions, I thought. That had lasted less than a week. Not that I could blame him when it came to the tempting basket of freshly baked goods that sat by Joe’s register every morning—even I had a hard time passing on those. Still, Mike had wanted to lose the twenty pounds that had crept up since Halloween and made me swear I’d keep him in check.

“You sure you wanna do that?” I asked.

Mike looked pointedly over at the red Mazda3 and his smile grew. “Life’s too short to pass on the good stuff, wouldn’t you say?”

That fucker. I shook my head and shot a glare his way, and then I went inside, determined now to buy out the apple fritters and personally stuff ’em down his meddling throat.

“Morning, Oliver,” Joe greeted me from behind the counter where he was ringing up a customer, and I smiled his way before grabbing a handheld basket and heading down the aisle for Mike’s Sprite. I took the third bottle from the front—yeah, I never took the first one of anything—and laid it in the basket as the freezer door slapped shut behind me.

I kept a tight grip on the handle as I took my time walking toward the far aisle, the anticipation building in my gut. Finally, I rounded the corner, and just as he was every day, Bluebird stood in front of the coffee station, refillable mug in hand and somehow looking more gorgeous than I remembered. My memory never did him justice.

I didn’t move as he placed his mug beneath the machine’s spout and hit a button, and I knew exactly what he’d get, the same as every morning: a latte with light foam and three sugars, two creamers.

Today he was dressed in a pair of black slacks, with a white button-down shirt and a midnight-blue tie—always so well put together, from his stylishly tousled dark brown hair, so dark it was almost black, down to his black loafers. A couple of days of stubble covered his usual freshly shaven jaw, and I imagined how it’d feel under my hands as I took either side of his face and pulled him toward mine—

“Dammit!”

Bluebird’s curse shook me out of my stupor as my feet managed to move again, and as I got closer, I saw that the usual brown liquid coming out of the machine was a cloudy white instead.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Hey, Joe,” he called out to the owner. “Latte machine’s down.”

“Again?” Joe scratched his jaw and then said, “Sorry about that, Reid. I’ll get someone out to fix it today.”

“No problem,” Reid replied, dumping out the hot water from his mug into the tray, and hello, I finally had a name to go with the face: Reid. How was it I’d gone so long without knowing?

I pulled out a couple of large disposable cups from the rack and reached for the coffee pot at the same time as Reid, our fingers brushing each other ever so slightly before we both jerked back. His touch shot through me like an electric jolt to my heart, and the surprise that lit his eyes told me I wasn’t the only one affected.

“Sorry,” he said, and then cleared his throat. “Damn static.”

That wasn’t static, I thought, but I wasn’t about to enlighten him, so instead I gestured to the almost empty coffee pot. “No problem. Go for it.”

“Oh…uh…” He glanced at how little was left and shook his head. “That’s okay. You were first.”

“Nah, go ahead. Something tells me you need it more than I do.”

“You sure?” Reid asked, his forehead creased like he didn’t want to impose, but I wouldn’t have minded him taking the last of the coffee every day, so long as those dark chocolate eyes of his stayed on me.

“I insist,” I said, and then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Besides, I know where Joe keeps the spares. I’ll just make another pot.”

A grateful smile lifted his lips. “Thanks.” Then he poured himself a full mug of coffee and scratched his jaw as he said, “Ever have one of those mornings?”

“All the time.”

Reid looked up at me, and then his eyes shifted down to my name and title patched in on my uniform. Oliver McFadden. Paramedic. “Yeah, of course you do. Paramedic, huh? I don’t know how you do it.”

“Helps that we can filter caffeine through IVs for a quicker hit on bad days.”

He laughed as he ripped open three sugar packets and dumped them into his drink. “I think I’m in the wrong field.”

“What is it you do?”

“I teach music education at Castle Hill.”

“Middle schoolers?” I whistled. “I think I’ll stick with my job.”

“I wouldn’t blame you some days. They’re mostly a good group, but man, there’s a few whose mission is to run off the new teachers.”

“And you’re one of the new ones?”

“Four months running.” He tossed the empty packets into the trash and then held his hand out to me. “I’m Reid, by the way.”

I stared at his hand for a couple of heartbeats before taking it in mine. His long fingers were cool to the touch, unlike my perpetually hot ones. It could be

negative fifty outside, and my hands would still be warm. “Ollie,” I said, and then shook my head slightly. “Well, Oliver, but everyone calls me Ollie.”

“Ollie,” Reid repeated, still shaking my hand. “I’ve never met an Ollie before.”

“Mom was a big fan of Laurel and Hardy. I’m just glad she didn’t go with Stan.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that was an unnecessary reference because he probably had no idea who the hell Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy were, but Reid surprised the hell out of me by laughing.

“Your mom has good taste. I used to watch their stuff at my nan’s,” he said, and then let go of my hand.

I missed the contact immediately.

Before I could respond, Joe’s gnarled fingers clamped down on my arm as he hobbled in between us and hit the side of the latte machine with his cane.

“I don’t think it’ll respond to a beat-down, Joe,” Reid said, as he stirred two creamers into his coffee.

“Worked once before. By George, I’ll do it again.”

As Joe whacked at the machine, Reid shook his head at the stubborn man. Then he capped his mug and smiled at me. “Thanks again, Ollie. I owe you one.”

“Anytime,” I said, and meant it. “Hope your morning improves.”

“I’m counting on it. Bye, Joe. I’ll leave the money on the counter.”

Joe grumbled what sounded like a goodbye and kept fiddling with the latte machine as I rinsed out the coffee pot and started up a fresh brew.

Two steaming mugs and a bag full of apple fritters later and I was climbing back into Big Bertha, still reeling from my run-in with Reid. It was so unlike me to moon over a guy, for fuck’s sake, but there was something about him that had caught my attention from day one and never let go. Today’s encounter had only served to pique my curiosity. I’d always thought him older, maybe mid- to late twenties, but he said he’d only been at Castle Hill for four months. Maybe that meant he was fresh out of college? Or could be he’d

relocated from somewhere. Definitely somewhere still in the South, since he seemed to have the manner of someone who’d grown up with parents who drilled in the Yes, sirs and No, thank you, ma’ams so telling of this part of the country, though his accent didn’t betray much of a twang.

“That has got to be the biggest, dumbest grin I’ve ever seen on your ugly mug,” Mike said, staring at me like I’d grown two heads. “Did you finally do it? Did you ask him out?”

I tossed the bag of fritters and soda into Mike’s lap. “Feel free to choke on those.”

“Ahh, I’m gonna take that as a yes, then. He shoot you down?”

After setting the coffees in the console, I fastened my seatbelt and waited for Mike to get the hint we needed to get moving.

“The hell, man?” he said. “You gonna leave me hangin’?”

I arched my brow in his direction, and when I didn’t say anything, he gave a grunt and started up the rig.

“One of these days, Ollie,” he grumbled, pulling out of the gas station. “You know all my personal shit. See if I spill my guts anymore.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do if you couldn’t talk about Deb twenty-four seven.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I scored a good one. Just letting everyone know what they’re missing out on.” As Mike slowed down behind traffic, he glanced over at me and waggled his black eyebrows.

“Make sure to do us a favor and hand out barf bags the next time you get started.” I nodded at the bag of pastries in his lap. “And don’t tell Deb I’m doin’ a horrible job of keeping you accountable.”

“Nah, she likes my love handles.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed and tore into the bag of fritters with one hand, while keeping his other on the wheel. When he’d made me swear last week that I’d keep him on track while he “cut the crap,” I’d thought he was nuts. Even with an extra twenty pounds on his strong six-foot build, Mike was as attractive as ever. Black, close-cropped curls, a permanent tan, and dimples that only seemed to have deepened the past few months.

The hot ones are always straight. At least they are in Floyd Hills, Georgia, I thought, my mind drifting back to the man I always made sure to run into during the workweek. And yeah, I got that straight vibe from Reid too, though even he couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited when our hands had brushed against each other. That wasn’t enough to hang any hope on, though, much as I wanted to.

“His name’s Reid,” I said, breaking up the quiet in the cab, and when Mike’s head jerked in my direction, a fritter half shoved in his mouth, I was unable to keep the smirk off my face anymore. “Teaches music at the middle school.”

As I casually sipped my coffee, Mike’s jaw practically hit the ground. “No shit.” A horn sounded from behind us, and Mike stepped on the gas, shaking his head. “About damn time. What else did you talk about?”

“Nothing. Joe came over to give the coffee machine a concussion, and that was the end of that.”

“Dammit, Joe. Way to cock-block.”

“Nah, he didn’t know.”

“Well, you have an opening now,” Mike said, winking at me. “And that was only a pun if you want it to be.”

“Oh, Jesus. I’ve done it now.”

“What?”

“Created a monster who uses puns against me.”

Mike laughed as I flipped on the radio to drown out any other comments his sugar high wanted to lob out, but when Bing Crosby began to croon about a winter wonderland, Mike groaned and jabbed at the buttons to change the channel.

“I can’t believe they’re still blasting Christmas music in January. Didn’t they get the memo that Santa Claus already came to town, and all he brought

me was a damn snow blower? When the hell am I gonna use a snow blower around here? I think my in-laws called in a favor.”

Chuckling, I brought my coffee up to my lips and blew softly, while Mike continued to flip through the stations until a country song began to play. He started to sing along, something about naming babies and dogs, which would normally have me eye-rolling him to death. But since his mouth was now otherwise occupied and he wasn’t digging for more information out of me, I didn’t bother putting up a fight to change the channel. Let him belt out “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” for all I cared. Until a call came in, my mind would be preoccupied by…other things.

A quick tone alert came through the radio, and I punched the music off as a call came through from dispatch.

“Unit 110, please respond Code 3 to the intersection of Mercer and Thomas on a multi-vehicle accident with injuries. Fire responding for possible extrication.”

I picked up the receiver. “Ten-four, Unit 110 en route. ETA less than two minutes,” I said, as Mike dropped the plastic bag on the ground at my feet and flipped on the lights and siren.

“Not how I’d want my day starting out,” he said, cutting through an intersection to make a left on Mercer.

“Saddle up,” I said. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long one.”

Traffic going east was already beginning to back up, the roads congested at the height of morning rush hour. Now with the accident up ahead and the cars unable to move to the side, Mike had to pull us into the suicide lane to get by. From the opposite direction, a backup unit, along with two police cars and a fire truck, veered toward the intersection, though it looked like we’d get there first.

I could see the smoke rising up ahead, and as we got closer, it seemed to be coming from beneath the hood of a black four-by-four truck that had smashed into a—

“Oh shit… Ollie…” Mike’s voice trailed off as we both caught sight of the crushed passenger side of the car that had been T-boned. The crumpled car had been no match for the bigger vehicle; it looked like they’d skidded into the middle of the intersection during impact. The car’s hood punched up at an awkward angle with the truck half inside, and broken glass littered the road.

I’d seen the sight so many times before, but never had the breath left my lungs in a rush, never had a faint ringing sound filled my ears, and never had a wild sense of panic seized my chest like it did right then.

Because the mangled car, the one I was responding to, was none other than Reid’s bright red Mazda3.

ForgetMeNot-AN

~*~TSC REVIEW~*~

5 STARS

I will warn you right now: IF you aren’t a fan of cliffhangers, you may want to wait 2 weeks until Remember Me When comes out. If you can wait, and don’t mind being left hanging, then you NEED to get to know Ollie and Reid STAT!!

Brooke is such a diverse author. She can go from romantic suspense, to rom/com to m/m without breaking a sweat. These two latest characters from her are nothing short of wonderful. 

Ollie and Reid. An unlikely pair, because they are total opposites in every way possible. But what I love about them is their genuineness. There is so much I want to say, but it would give too much away. So I’ll say this: You WANT Ollie and Reid in your life. You want the excitement, the fear, the longing, and the hope. You will go through every emotion reading part one of their story. Its the type of book that sort of sneaks up and grabs a hold of your heart and doesn’t let go. 

I can’t wait to see where she takes these two. I just hope they both get their HEA!

 

Read Today!

(Free in Kindle Unlimited)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2nV8c7B

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

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

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Book two, Remember Me When, will be released on February 26th, 2018.

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

About Brooke

Brooke Blaine is a USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary romance that ranges from comedy to suspense to erotic. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts.

If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find – just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for years. Or you can reach her at www.BrookeBlaine.com.
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Connect with Brooke:

Website: http://www.brookeblaine.com/

Facebook: www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BrookeBlaine1

Instagram: www.instagram.com/brookeblaine1/

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1i2g15S

Brooke & Ella’s Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas

The M/M Daily Grind: https://www.facebook.com/groups/941204085967883

If you’d like to be the FIRST to know about a new release, sale, giveaway, or upcoming signings & events, make sure to join Brooke’s mailing list:

http://www.BrookeBlaine.com

 

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BLOG TOUR & REVIEW: PRINCE CHARMING by CD Reiss

Prince Charming an all-new sexy standalone from New York Times bestselling author CD Reiss is available NOW.

prince-charming-cover

Synopsis:

Keaton Bridge is one hundred percent bad boy.

Cassie doesn’t need a boy and certainly not a bad one. Nope. She fights crime for a living, and everything about this guy screams trouble, from his charming British accent to his mysterious past.

And Cassie doesn’t do trouble.

Keaton’s got his own trouble. He’s trying to go legit, and an FBI agent hanging around is the last thing that will help his credibility.

All it took was one night of passion to sear her into his skin. Now he can’t imagine living happily ever after without her.

All they have to do is walk away.

But neither of them ever walks away from a challenge.

Excerpt:

The list of crimes that happen on the dark net bounce through my brain as he holds me. Is he going to kill me? Strangle me right here in the parking lot of his own factory? Maybe he wants to try. He’s well-built but I’m pretty sure I can take a computer nerd in hand to hand combat. I just can’t let him get the jump.

He goes for me.

I’m surprised and prepared for it at the same time. I didn’t actually believe he’d try, but I’m reaching to block an attack while he’s leading with his head, which is weird, but I got this.

When his lips smash against mine my body is a split second ahead of my brain. It’s processed the list of dark net violence and thus completes a series of moves to bring down a frontal attack.

Even as I’m using his weight against him by holding his arm still while I swing him, letting his high center of gravity do all the work of stripping him of his balance, my mind processes the kiss. Because it was a kiss. A real soft-lipped-slightly-open-mouthed-I want-her-to-like-it kind of kiss.

By the time those nice thoughts register I’m slamming him up against the car. I’m a little disappointed that I can’t take back my counterattack. I would have let him kiss me a few more seconds before taking him down.

His eyes are open wide and the breath’s knocked out of him. The thump of his body against the car door fades into the night.

“Why did you do that?” I ask.

He looks at me as if I asked him why he pees standing up. Brows knotted. Arms out. Mouth half open as if he can’t contain the sheer number of answers he could give me right now.

“What?” He says it like whot and it’s endearing and haughty at the same time. Damnit. I should have taken that kiss and not gotten all black belt on him.

“Don’t sneak up on a girl like that.” I sound like a brat.

He straightens himself out, pulling his cuffs down and realigning his jacket.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just do a very impressive judo throw and tell you, out front, that I am going to kiss you. First, I am going to put my hands on your face, because I would like to feel your mouth move when I do it. Then I’m going to tilt my head to the right, so please, you should also tilt your head to the right.” He waits for me to nod, and when I do, he comes close to me and lowers his voice. “I’m going to wait a second once our lips touch, just to make sure we’re both appreciating this first contact. When I open my mouth a little, I want you to do the same. You need to accept my tongue in your mouth.” He puts his hands on my shoulders. “Is that enough of a warning?”

“What happens after that?”

“It’s unwritten.”

He moves his hands up to my jaw, laying his thumbs against my cheeks. He strokes them and I lean forward.

He kisses me just like he said he would. His tongue tastes like ice water, and his lips curve into the shape of mine. The adrenaline in my veins blends with something newer and warmer. He slides one hand back and tugs my hair which sends fluids and sensation and pleasure and all my attention between my legs. I push against him just so I can feel him resist. I need to fight him hard as I want him.

He’s rigid and yielding all at once, turning us around until I’m the one with my back against the car. I shove him away and he separates from me with a sharp intake of breath.

He doesn’t say a word, still holding me by a fistful of hair. The cold clouds of our breath mingle between us. He’s a predator, a criminal, and a mistake. But his jaw is tight and his nostrils flare when he breathes. He’s all those things and a bull charging for the red cape.

“Push me away again,” he says, finally, “and we’re done here. And I know for a fact that’s not what you want.”

I am the red cape, and I need to be yanked away as much as I need him to charge at me again and again.

“When I want you to stop I’ll say so.”

I shove him again, and he smiles before laying a kiss on me. It’s not a kiss I fight. It’s a kiss I want. He pauses, pulling his mouth away as if giving me a second to tell him to stop, but I don’t. I don’t start pushing against him until our mouths are locked again. His hips grind into me. I feel his erection through our clothes.

I’m clutching his coat without any sense. I want to tear away every stitch of fabric. I push and pull with equal ferocity. I want to spread my legs but my coat’s too long. I want to punch him. I want that hard dick stretching me and I want it to hurt. My mind is wiped clean of everything but need. I don’t have a job or a career. I don’t have dreams built from childhood. I don’t have a name. I’m just a pillar of desire. I’m reduced to movement and hunger. I want his body inside mine. Nothing else.

AVAILABLE NOW.1

 

~*~TSC REVIEW~*~

5 STARS

There is so much I want to say about this book, but I won’t because that would spoil it.

There isn’t a story written by Christine that I don’t love. And Prince Charming may just be my favorite of hers yet. Keaton and Cassie have definitely become my favorite couple.

We are first introduced to Keaton in King of Code, and he’s no less mysterious in his own book. What he is, is way more charming (that could be the whole British accent sexiness).

I love Cassie because she’s strong and assertive, and she fights her attraction to him with everything she has.

The chemistry between the two is instantaneous and explosive. I love the way they connect.
There is so much intrigue and mystery surrounding Keaton and it’s fun flipping the page, trying to piece his puzzle together.

Prince Charming is the type of book that you need to read word for word and not skip over parts. Not because you won’t understand something, but because you won’t want to miss a single thing.
And believe me, you will savor every word.

 

 

Read Today!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2CGBa18

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

iBooks: https://apple.co/2xTXtAk

Nook:http://bit.ly/2EGYmgs

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2yp8eeD

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2i2MIFJ

About the Author

CD Reiss is a New York Times bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up she’s at the well hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

She’s frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn’t ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

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Connect with CD Reiss:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2iwpkPQ
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CDReiss.writer/
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Website: www.cdreiss.com
Newsletter: https://cdreiss.com/cd-reiss-mailing-list-signup/

 

BLOG TOUR & REVIEW: TRUE BY ELLA FRANK

 

TRUE, the final book in The Temptation Series by Ella Frank and the highly anticipated wedding between Logan Mitchell and Tate Morrison is available now!

TRUE-FINAL

Synopsis:

True – adjective: That which is accurate or exact.

I dare you to try.

I think you’re my truth.

Terrify me.

Marry me.

Marry me.

Marry me…

Four years ago, Logan Mitchell walked into Tate’s life and challenged him to see it differently.

He dared Tate to try a kiss, when normally he wouldn’t have.

He begged him to take a chance, when he probably shouldn’t have.

But most importantly, he asked Tate to trust that he would love him, and he did. From that moment on, Tate realized exactly what his life had been missing—Logan.

Happily-ever-afters come in many different forms. But for Tate Morrison, there’s only one ending he wants. The one where the guy marries the guy and true love conquers all.

Now all he has to do is tell Logan.

Join Logan and Tate as they finally realize what the rest of us knew all along. That they belong together for better or worse—always.

Excerpt:

LOVE. IT’S FUNNY how one four-letter word can bring on such an onslaught of emotions. Happiness, desire, anger, even fear, Tate Morrison thought, as he sat at the tiny table in the empty bar of the Lynley Winery and tried to calm his erratic heartbeat. It could make those who were the most honest with their emotions run scared, while at the same time bring forth a determination in the most unlikely of people.

That was something he had discovered ten minutes ago back in their suite when Logan had stood before him naked and uttered, “Just tell me how you want me, Tate. I’m yours.”

That was when he’d run.

Tate had practically tripped over his feet in his hurry to be free of the suddenly suffocating confines of that bathroom. And now, as he sat alone replaying Logan’s words, he stared down at the crumpled paper he’d grabbed from his wallet and studied the words in his shaking hands.

His stomach knotted, then flipped over on itself time and time again, and Tate willed himself to breathe. The last thing he needed was to pass out from a panic attack, but that was exactly what was happening. He was panicking. And the reason? The reason was as clear as day. He was the dumbest motherfucker on the planet. Yeah, he was.

Fucking hell. He’d heard that love made people do some stupid shit before, but this… God, what if I can’t fix this? What if Logan doesn’t want me like that anymore? The thought made him want to be sick. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the room from spinning, but all that did was bring to mind Logan back in the bathroom, beautiful as always, looking at Tate for some kind of indication of what was running through his head. And what had Tate given him? Nothing. He’d just fled.

Damn it.

Tate shoved the piece of paper into his pocket, along with the pen he’d grabbed from the side table back in their suite, no longer able to look at it. What had he done to them? How had he let fear of the unknown possibly ruin this? And as the memories flooded him again…

I dare you to try.

I think you’re my truth.

Terrify me.

Marry me.

…he was more than aware that it was that one, the last one, that didn’t have the right ending. He’d really messed this up, but he could make it right and wanted to, more than he wanted his next breath.

He placed his head in his hands and shut his eyes, trying to gather some semblance of control so he could go back, find Logan, and do the one thing he realized he should’ve done all along. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of padded feet on the hardwood floor that he looked up to see that he didn’t need to go and find Logan, because he had tracked Tate down instead.

With the fire flickering behind him, the sharp angles of Logan’s cheeks and jaw only enhanced a face Tate loved more than he thought possible, and when Logan pulled out the chair opposite him and reached across the table to take his hands, Tate couldn’t believe it had taken his brain this long to catch up and get to where it now firmly was.

“Hey,” Logan said, his eyes roaming over Tate’s face, no doubt for signs, clues as to why he’d run away.

“Hey,” Tate replied, and then lowered his gaze to their hands, marveling over the strength he found there when they were joined.

Exactly…together, not apart. Always and forever, together.

“What are you doing out here?” Logan asked, and Tate swallowed as he felt Logan tighten his grip.

“I, uhh…”

“Tate?” Logan said before Tate could give any kind of response. “What are you doing out here?”

Tate withdrew his hand and ran it through his hair, and as Logan continued to watch him, he felt his nerves kick in. “Back there in the bathroom…” he started, and then stopped. As he thought over his words, Tate wondered if there was even a way to explain how badly he’d screwed this all up, but knew the only way he’d ever know was to try. “I had a thought. It was more of a moment, I guess. A flash of us. Of all we are and will be and— Shit, I sound crazy, don’t I?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, but he shook his head. “You don’t sound crazy. But you are freaking me out a little. Were the things you were thinking good things, at least?”

Tate frowned and then shot Logan an apologetic look. The last thing Tate wanted was to worry him more—it was the exact opposite. “Yeah, of course. I should’ve probably started with that. Everything about you was good. Perfect, really, but me…”

“What about you? You’re pretty fucking perfect from where I’m sitting. And back there in that bathroom, trust me, you looked better than any of those naked statues on the wall.”

Tate tried for a smile but knew he didn’t quite pull it off when Logan asked, “What is it, Tate? Come on; you know you can tell me anything.”

Okay, this is it, Tate thought, as he swallowed and then shifted in his seat, glancing over at the fire for a moment to gather his nerve. Then he turned back to Logan and asked, “Am I too late?”

At Logan’s confused expression, Tate knew he didn’t understand what he was asking. So he reached into his pocket where he’d shoved the piece of paper, and then put it on the table. He smoothed his hand over it, lovingly tracing his fingers over the name he now wanted as his own, and then pushed it over in front of Logan.

As Logan stared down at it, Tate watched him read over the words on the paper, waiting for a reaction, and when Logan looked up, Tate asked again, “Am I too late?”

Logan blinked several times, and Tate held his breath, wondering if he was too late. But then something miraculous happened: Logan shook his head.

The blood rushing around Tate’s head made his ears ring as he tried to comprehend what Logan was telling him, but he still hadn’t said a word, so Tate pulled the pen from his pocket and leaned over to circle the name he hadn’t been able to stop looking at ever since he’d found the piece of paper.

As Logan looked down again, Tate saw a huge grin split his lips. “So what do you think? Can the world handle two Mr. Mitchells?
True-AN

~*~TSC REVIEW~*~

6 STARS

It’s not often you come across an author that brings you characters you can’t get enough of. You’d think after six books, we’d be ready for the end. You’d be completely wrong.

Four years ago, Ella Frank introduced us to Logan Mitchell and Tate Morrison, and our hearts have never been the same. After three books, we were sad when we thought that was it. Lucky for us, Logan and Tate weren’t done telling their story, and we got Tease, Tate and finally True. 

True picks up where Tate left off, which is perfect because you don’t feel like you’ve missed anything.  And I will tell you right now, if you haven’t read the first five books, you NEED to, in order to understand everything these guys have been through, that lead them to this point. A proposal and a promise of forever. 

As much as I wanted to devour this book, I took my time because I knew that my heart would simultaneously be filled with love and would break at knowing that this was the last book.  Logan and Tate aren’t just characters; they’ve become family. You can feel the love between them, and their fierce attraction to each other is actually enviable. 

Ella is nothing short of BRILLIANT in the way she tells their story. It’s one of the most beautiful love stories you will ever read.  True is the perfect way for us to say goodbye to these two wonderful men. While I’m sorry to see them go, they deserve their happy ever after. And this book was everything I expected it to be. 

 

 

Read Today!

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(Free in Kindle Unlimited)

Try (Temptation #1)

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Take (Temptation #2)

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Trust (Temptation #3)

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Tease (Temptation #4)

(Free in Kindle Unlimited)

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Tate (Temptation #5)

(Free in Kindle Unlimited)

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

About Ella Frank:

Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!”

A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction and lives with her husband in Portland, OR. You can reach her on the web at http://www.ellafrank.com and on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/ella.frank.author

Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips.

EllaFrank
Connect with Ella:


Join Ella’s Newsletter – www.bit.ly/1hEYtgn

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Instagram – www.instagram.com/ellafrank1/

 

RELEASE BOOST & GIVEAWAY: DRIVE by Jacob Chance

 

Title: DRIVE
Author: Jacob Chance
Genre: Sports Romance/Romantic Comedy
Release Date: December 1, 2017

 

Blurb
Kissing a complete stranger shouldn’t be a life altering
experience, but with him it was. One look into his mischievous hazel eyes and
our lips were colliding without a second thought.
Now, months later, not only do I know his name, we’ve also
become friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that kiss and cuddle
together, all night long. The kind of friends that fantasize about being
horizontal or vertical…and very much naked.
I’d never been attracted to the football playing jocks, but
Nick’s different. When he’s not being a professional flirt, he’s undeniably
sweet and funny. For every excuse my mind comes up with to keep my distance, my
body finds two reasons to give him a chance.
Can he make the final drive into my heart or will I keep him
in the friend zone?
Purchase Links

 

99c for a limited time


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Jacob Chance grew up in New England. He’s a martial artist, a football fan, a practical joker and junk food lover.


An author of romantic suspense and sports romance, he plans to write many more sexy, suspenseful stories.
Author Links

 

BLOG TOUR & REVIEW: BODYGUARD by CD Reiss

Bodyguard, the highly anticipated new standalone from New York Times bestselling author CD Reiss is available NOW!

bodyguard front.jpg

Bodyguard by CD Reiss

Release Date: November 14th, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Protecting a celebrity in Hollywood isn’t easy, but protecting Emily could break his heart.

As a world-class dancer at the height of her career, Emily enjoys all the perks of fame—the parties, the glamour, the tours—but they’ve also attracted the attention of a dangerous ex-boyfriend hell-bent on getting her back.

Enter Carter Kincaid, a bodyguard so crushingly sexy he takes her breath away.

Carter’s the best in the business, and Emily is—professionally speaking—off-limits. But when it comes to stirring his desires, she’s making all the right moves. What’s happening between them is so hot it could get both of them burned. As Emily’s past gets closer, Carter is willing to break every rule of the job to save her. But letting Emily into his life also means letting her in on the secrets of his own past. For these two, falling in love could be the greatest risk of all.

Excerpt:

“Are we going to have another ‘about last night’ conversation?” I asked.

“If you want to.”

What did I want to say? Everything. but mostly, I wanted to tell him how much I liked kissing him and how conflicted I was. I wanted to demand answers immediately and give him space at the same time.

All the words tried to jump forward, but when he stopped at a light, our eyes met in the rearview. The words landed in a tangle, unsaid.

He tapped the steering wheel when he turned it, using both hands for the first time since I’d gotten in.

“Hey,” I said.

“Yeah?” He briefly looked at me in the mirror.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Burn.” he brushed his left hand over the bandage at the top of his palm, right where you’d burn it if you were picking up a hot pot handle. He caught my eye in the rearview again.

I didn’t know if I believed him.

“What were you cooking?”

“Breakfast.”

“And you still went to get a Danish?”

He rubbed his upper lip with his left hand and tapped the wheel with the bandaged one.

“I burned my eggs.”

Right. Hot pot. Burned hand. Smoke-filled kitchen.

“You know what’s funny?” I said.

The Three Stooges.”

“I don’t know anything about you. You could live in your mother’s basement.”

“That’s just where I bury the bodies.”

Blatant avoidance. It had been cute before; now it was getting on my nerves.

“Are you married?”

“No!”

He could have been lying, buy lying liars always lied. There wasn’t a thing I could do about that except make sure I asked.

Something was wrong. We’d kissed twice, and twice he’d shut down. I should have been the one shutting down. I was the one with all the ex-boyfriend baggage. Why was I the one who was always so willing?

But there he was in the front seat, driving with both hands on the wheel, glancing at me once in a while to make sure I wasn’t choking on my tongue in the back seat. Discomfort radiated out of him.

Here I was with my hands in my lap thinking about ways to kiss him again.

He pulled into the little lot and wedged into a space. He turned off the car, popped his seat belt, and stared at the wheel for a split second too long. I was about to open the car door myself when he turned all the way around, arm over the back of his seat, bandaged hand on the back of the passenger side.

“Kissing you…” He stopped and looked at my lips so intensely I folded them back and bit them. “You’re dangerous. I can’t even see your lips, but I can taste them. I couldn’t brush the taste of you out of my mouth this morning. Right now. The honey. I can taste it but not enough. I want to kiss you again, and I can’t. I lose my shit around you. I can’t do it. My job is control. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

My jaw loosened, and I let my lips go.

“No, I don’t. I’ve met bodyguards before. You’re a stoic bunch, but you’re not all celibate. And if you think this is easy for me, you’re wrong. I’m afraid too. I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt because of me. last night…” I put my fingertips to my lips as if that would keep the choking sob from coming. I kept it back. “Last night he showed me he’s back, and if he’ll hurt me, he’ll hurt you.”

If I thought seats would be a barrier between us, I was wrong. He launched himself between them and placed his lips on mine. Our third kiss was unexpected, uncomfortable with him stretched between front and back. I wove my fingers in his hair, giving him my mouth, and taking his.

I wanted that kiss to tell him it was all right. He could lose control. He could be more than a protector. He was as safe with me as I was with him. But I couldn’t without lying to both of us.

He yanked his lips away.

“Trust me.” He leaned his forehead against mine.

CD_AVAILABLE NOWlowercase_preview

 

~*~TSC REVIEW~*~

5 STARS

I SOOO wish I could get inside CD Reiss’s head. Her mind would be such a fascinating place to hang out.  She once again brings us a titillating tale filled with her signature mix of sweet, sexy and suspenseful. Emily and Carter will steal your heart!

I would literally sneak read this book at work on my phone, because I didn’t want to put it down. How Christine continues to bring us these amazing characters is what makes her one of my absolute favorite authors. 

Emily is sweet, selfless, an has sacrificed a lot in her life. Carter embodies everything you would imagine in a bodyguard, plus an extra helping of hotness. These two are yin and yang, and work so perfectly together. 

I love the push and pull between Emily and Carter. The more he pulls away, the more she pushes her way in. And while both think / know that being together is not a good idea, they can’t fight primal urges that consume them when they are around each other. While there are outside influences that try to keep them apart, their story is a case of good always triumphs over evil. 

This is the second book in Christine’s Hollywood A-List series, but it absolutely can be read as a standalone. If you like a book that is a complete package, one that will sweep you up, suck you in and keep you turning the page, pick up Bodyguard. If you’ve never read a book by CD Reiss, start with this one. You won’t be sorry. 

 

 

Read today!

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BODYGUARD FB AD THREE

Start the Series of Standalones Today!

Bombshell

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About the Author

CD Reiss is a New York Times bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up she’s at the well hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

She’s frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn’t ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

_21A6258_pp-fb 9.18.21 AM

Connect with CD Reiss:

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BOOK BLITZ & REVIEW: RIPPLES BY ALEATHA ROMIG

 

You don’t have to read the Consequences series to enjoy this stand-alone novel, but if you know Tony Rawlings, you know that disappointing him isn’t an option. Imagine being his youngest daughter…imagine telling him the unimaginable…

“Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it.”

Sometimes ideas find you, and dreams begin as nightmares. Sometimes the truth that has been kept hidden is the key to opening a door you never knew existed.

“You might not know me. I’m the baby of the Rawlings family, the princess, the daughter who came along later. I’m not like my older siblings, successful at everything they touch. My mother and father have provided me with every luxury as well as their unyielding love and support, but I’m not spoiled. I’m also not content. By example, my parents have shown me how love should be. I don’t know their past, and that doesn’t matter. I know what I’ve seen—two people devoted to one another.

I don’t believe that I’ll ever find that kind of love, the kind that forgives and accepts all. And as my life falls to pieces and I travel to visit my family to face their disappointment, I’m not even looking for it.

I’m looking for an escape…from my life as a Rawlings…from the pressure to achieve and not let others down. I dream of the time I can live for my own desires without the expectations that come with my name.

I don’t find what I’m seeking…it finds me. Or should I say…he finds me.

This time is different. I have a family who will search for me and find the answers. Little do we know—any of us—that my father set my journey into motion long before I was born.”

“Just as ripples spread out when a single pebble is dropped into water, the actions of individuals can have far-reaching effects.” ~Dalai Lama

Ripples (Unabridged Version) is Natalie’s story, the youngest of Tony and Claire’s children—their baby. This story first appeared in shorter form in Glamour: Contemporary Fairytale Retellings. Due to the length restriction of each novella in that anthology, many scenes in Ripples were shortened or omitted for that anthology. This unabridged edition is the entire story—double in length and—a full-length novel.

Please enjoy this Consequences novel along with special appearances from your favorite Consequences characters.

 

Amazon US | Amazon UK | iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Print US

 

~*~TSC REVIEW~*~

5 STARS

I love Aleatha and her writing. Her Consequences Series is one of my hands down favorites. So, when I read the spin-off novella in the Glamour anthology, I was super happy to get a small taste of Tony and Claire and their family again. Then Aleatha announced that she was releasing a full length novel, and I was over the moon. 

Ripples is about the Rawlings youngest daughter Natalie. She’s daddy’s princess, spoiled, but not a brat. She hates letting people down, especially her parents, but following in her older siblings footsteps is not what she wants to do. 

Dexter has been waiting for Natalie his whole life. From an early age, he’s known that she was meant to be his; he just needs to convince her that they belong together. 

Their relationship starts off much the same way as Tony and Claire’s (which, if you haven’t read about, I’m not telling you). It’s unorthodox and unconventional, and if you’ve never read an Aleatha book before, you might get turned off by it. But I promise you, this book, Natalie and Dexter’s story, is worth every word. 

Their’s is a journey of discovery, both of self and of each other. It’s full of Aleatha’s trademark hotness factor, plus a healthy dash of darkness and angst, and some very endearing moments.  And I feel like the way she ended it could very well leave it open for us to get more of Natalie and Dexter in the future.  Here’s hoping!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

aleatharomig1Aleatha Romig is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Indiana, USA. She grew up in Mishawaka, graduated from Indiana University, and is currently living south of Indianapolis. Aleatha has raised three children with her high school sweetheart and husband of nearly thirty years. Before she became a full-time author, she worked days as a dental hygienist and spent her nights writing. Now, when she’s not imagining mind-blowing twists and turns, she likes to spend her time a with her family and friends. Her other pastimes include reading and creating heroes/anti-heroes who haunt your dreams!

Aleatha released her first novel, CONSEQUENCES, in August of 2011. CONSEQUENCES became a bestselling series with five novels and two companions released from 2011 through 2015. The compelling and epic story of Anthony and Claire Rawlings has graced more than half a million e-readers. Aleatha released the first of her series TALES FROM THE DARK SIDE, INSIDIOUS, in the fall of 2014. These stand alone thrillers continue Aleatha’s twisted style with an increase in heat.

In the fall of 2015, Aleatha moved head first into the world of dark romantic suspense with the release of BETRAYAL, the first of her five novel INFIDELITY series that has taken the reading world by storm. She also began her traditional publishing career with Thomas and Mercer. Her books INTO THE LIGHT and AWAY FROM THE DARK were published through this mystery/thriller publisher in 2016.

2017 brings Aleatha’s first “Leatha, the lighter side of Aleatha” with PLUS ONE, a fun, sexy romantic comedy.

Aleatha is a “Published Author’s Network” member of the Romance Writers of America and PEN America. She is represented by Kevan Lyon of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

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BLOG TOUR & REVIEW: THE VAULT Volume One

The Vault:  (Volume One) is NOW LIVE!!!

Grab this Sinfully Sexy Collection TODAY!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2zdV5S7

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2ymcPy1

iBooks:  http://apple.co/2y7hyj9

Nook: http://bit.ly/2x6oWOX

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2ge6ABF

 

the vault

What happens when you lock 22 authors in a vault and don’t let them come out until they’ve finished their books?

You get one sinfully sexy collection.

Sweet.

Devilish.

Dangerous.

Romantic.

Raw.

Funny.

Dark.

Powerful.

Unforgettable.

See what awaits you inside The Vault.

 

~*~ TSC REVIEW~*~

4.5 STARS

Here’s what  I love about anthologies. 

Its a fabulous way to be introduced to new authors; either ones you’ve never heard of, or ones that you’ve heard of but haven’t read yet. This is the case for me with The Vault. A few authors I know, read and love a few I’ve heard of but never read. 

All of these stories are different. Different themes, different writing styles, and that is what makes this collection so fabulous. The only reason I’m not giving it five stars is because one or two of the stories end in a cliffhanger which I equally love and hate. In this case, with so many fabulous stories, I’ll be lucky if I remember to follow up with the author and get the rest of the story. 

A fun, sexy collection of books with some SERIOUS swoon-worthy hotties. Absolutely worth the read!

 

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AUTHORS & TITLES

A.D. Justice: Warning

A.M. Hargrove: For The Love of My Sexy Geek

Aleatha Romig: Unconventional

C.A. Harms: Raw

Gina Whitney: Stilettos and Broken Bottles

Hilary Storm: Ridin’ Dirty

Katherine Rhodes: Innuendo

Kate Benson: Redemption

Kathy Coopmans: Parole

Katie Ashley: The Plan

Liv Morris: Sweet Seconds

M.C. Cerny: Declan’s Demand

M. Stratton: In His Arms

Michelle Dare: Uncuffed

MJ Fields: Terzetto

Nina Levine: Risk 

S. Moose Author: Adjusting the Deal

S.D. Hildreth: Mister Prick

T.K. Leigh: Inferno

Terri E. Laine: Honey

Tia Louise: Sundown

Toni Aleo: Not The One

 

For more information on each title click HERE:  http://bzfd.it/2gnKb8D

BLOG TOUR & REVIEW: GUN SHY BY LILI ST. GERMAIN

 

 

Gun-Shy-iBooks.jpg

 

 



A stand alone psychological thriller.
** NOT A ROMANCE **

 



HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?

In the middle of a fierce snowstorm in Gun Creek, Nevada, seventeen-year-old Jennifer Thomas disappears without a trace.

The second girl in nine years.

Identical cases. Identical conditions. Only last time, the girl was found. Dead, stuffed in a well beside the creek that feeds the town’s water supply.

The killer was never found.

As the small town mobilizes and searches for newly vanished Jennifer Thomas, one suspect comes to the fore. But did he do it? Or is there something else at play? Something nobody could have anticipated?

For Jennifer’s friend Cassie Carlino, the worst is yet to come. As she pins MISSING posters to store windows and joins the search, she begins to suspect that Jennifer’s disappearance might be much closer to her than she could have ever imagined.


 

Leo

I visit Jennifer every evening at the diner; she seems to like the attention, and I could use the distraction. I make sure to turn up just before her shift ends, and she gives me a ride home every night. The first night she came over we ended up talking for hours. My mouth hurt by the end, every sense on high alert. I was a gentleman. I didn’t lay a hand on her again, not after she started to talk. She’s in trouble. A lot of trouble. I think it eased her mind to be able to confess to somebody who pretty much wrote the book on trouble in this town.
I mean, there’s not a thing I can do to help the girl. Not unless she tells me who got her into this mess in the first place. “That’s the problem with men,” she said to me when I urged her to give me the name of the guy blackmailing her. “They always jump straight to problem-solving. Men always want to fix everybody.”
“You don’t want to be fixed?” I’d asked her.
“I can fix myself,” she’d replied. “I just need somebody to understand.”
I don’t understand. Her predicament is something I’ve never experienced. But I can listen. I listen to her talk as she drives me home in her shiny new car every night, and it makes me feel less of a fuck-up. I mean, she hasn’t killed anyone. But she’s planning to. And that’s why we’ve found each other. I am a killer and she is ready to spill blood. She is a welcome distraction from my sins, and I am a makeshift altar for her to lay her own sins upon. Because when I’m with Jennifer, I don’t think about Cassie Carlino. I don’t think of Karen Brainard. And, most especially, I don’t think of Teresa King and the way she burned beside me in that car.
* * *
The night Jennifer Thomas disappears is like all the rest. I go to the diner. Order nachos and a Coke. I’m surprised Jennifer is working. It’s Thanksgiving, and the place is deserted. Even Amanda is nowhere to be seen.
“Working on Thanksgiving?” I ask Jennifer, as she slides my food in front of me. She shrugs, that glitter lipgloss catching the light as she moves. “It’s just another day, isn’t it?”
I nod.
“Besides,” she says, “It pisses my dad off. I asked for this shift.”
At ten, I help her to turn out all the lights. I wait beside her as she locks the front doors of the diner, feeling vaguely worried about the fact that somebody left a sixteen year old cheerleader alone to lock up this late at night. I note the lack of video surveillance, the remote location, the fact that everyone is tucked safely inside their houses while Jennifer is alone with a convicted criminal in the dead of night.
Jennifer offers me a ride home, which I accept. Except, instead of driving me straight home like she has done for the past six nights in a row, Jennifer pulls her Range Rover off the road into an uncleared section of pine trees that tower over us. The track is narrow and winding and she doesn’t answer me when I ask her where she’s taking us.
She stops in a small clearing and cuts the lights. The engine is still running. Bits of snow fall outside, slow and bloated in their trajectory toward the ground. Jennifer’s hands are small as they grip the steering wheel; her eyes lit up by the red illumination of the dashboard, making her look almost demonic.
“What are we doing here?” I ask her again.
“I don’t want to go home,” she says staring straight ahead.
“Fair enough,” I reply. I watch her as she struggles to find words. She squirms in her heated leather seat, her nails shiny and perfect, her shoulders sagging under the weight of something I cannot see.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asks me in a tiny voice, and she sounds so mouse-like and weak that I almost laugh.
“Do I think you’re pretty?” I echo, feeling a smirk cut its way across my face. “Jennifer, you’re so pretty I could die just from looking at you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You think I’m stupid. You’re just here because you feel sorry for me, Leo.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think you’re stupid. And I’m not here because I feel sorry for you.”
She swallows thickly; I can see the pulse beat nervously in her throat. “Then why are you here?”
“Well, I guess I’m here right now because you just drove us off the road and into the woods.”
“You know what I mean.”
Do, I, though? I sigh. “Because you’re the only person in this town worth talking to who will even look at me.”
She bites her lip and I have the sudden, piercing urge inside my skull to wrap my hands around her throat and drag her onto my lap. That’s some messed up shit. She’s sixteen. Six. TEEN. I’m repeating the number in my head over and over, willing my dick to settle down. I can feel the throb of wanting her in my cock, in the thunderous rush of blood that makes my heart hit my ribcage like the firing of a gun, bang, bang, bang. My need eclipses my rationality. So what if she’s sixteen? She drove into this fucking clearing and licked her lips and asked me if I thought she was pretty.
“Why have you been back to the diner every single night, just as I’m about to get off shift?”
“Umm,” I try. “It’s the only decent place in town?”
She narrows her eyes at me and there’s a fire inside her pupils; it might be below freezing outside, but it’s a billion degrees in here. We’re already fogging up the windows with our breath, and I haven’t even laid a finger on her.
“Liar,” she says. “I want the real reason.”
You’re about to get the real reason, sweetheart. I grip the armrest. I grip it so hard my fingernails ache.
“I’m here because I’m a bad guy, Jennifer.”
“And?”
“Because you’re so pretty I can’t think about anybody else. Because I want to do things to you… that would probably frighten you. Things that might hurt you.”
Her cheeks are flush; her breathing quickens. I haven’t even touched her, and she’s already excited. Or scared. Or both. I want to reach between her thighs and see if it’s lust I’m reading on her face.
“What kinds of things?” she asks.
I cover my face with my hands.  
“What kinds of things?” she repeats, a hand on my shoulder. I let my hands fall into my lap and fix my stare on this girl who should be home with her family, not out here in the dark in the woods and snow with a criminal. I watch in awe as she slides her seat back and reaches her hands up underneath her skirt, tugging a pair of panties down her legs and unhooking them from her heels. She can’t look at me as she hands me a pair of baby blue silk panties with a bow on the front. I grip the underwear in my fist so tight I could tear it to shreds with a single pull, but I don’t rip it. I find the damp spot of arousal in the center of the material and bring it up to my face. I close my eyes. I breathe Jennifer in.
I shouldn’t be here. Not with her. Not like this. I will get out of the car, I decide. I will walk home. I will not touch this girl.
But then, “I promise I won’t tell anyone,” she whispers.
Fuck.
I grab her. I drown her shock out with my mouth. I squeeze her slender neck with my prison-rough palms. I keep my promise and I hurt Jennifer Thomas until I’m sated.
It’s only after when I’m looking at the blank expression on her face, the odd tilt of her neck, the bruises blossoming on her spread thighs, that I understand what I have done.
By then, it’s too late.
The night Jennifer Thomas disappears is like all the rest.
Apart from the way it ends.

 

 

~*~ TSC REVIEW~*~

4.5 STARS

This is the first book by Lili that I’ve read, and I’m kicking myself because of it. I love the darker reads, and she definitely delivered. 
 Living in a small town is hard enough. Living the life that Cassie does is bound to make a person crazy. 
This book is told in dual POV; Cassie and the love of her life Leo. It’s a beautifully twisted love story. A story that shows the lengths that people will go to to be with the one that they love. And that’s where the major twist comes in . This is the kind of book that I can’t tell you about, you need to read for yourself, especially if you love a good mind bender. 
There are multiple small twists, that lead to the jaw dropping conclusion. You will alternate between feeling sorry for these characters, being turned on, nursing a kernel of hope, and maybe even a little repulsed.  But in the end, you will be completely satisfied. 
I’m definitely going to be reading more of Lili’s books. I really enjoyed the way this story flowed. There was no unnecessary filler, There are some scenes that can definitely cause trigger issues, so if you have any, I urge you to read with caution. 
Lili writes dark, delicious romance full of love, lust and revenge. Her USA Today Bestselling Gypsy Brothers series focuses on a morally bankrupt biker gang and the young woman who seeks her vengeance upon them. The Cartel series is a trilogy that explores the beginnings of the club, published through HarperCollins.

Lili quit corporate life to focus on writing and so far is loving every minute of it. Her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband and beautiful daughter, excellent coffee, Tarantino movies and spending hours on Instagram.

She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.

 

Author Links

 

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BLOG TOUR: IN PIECES BY DANIELLE PEARL

 

In Pieces, an all-new brother’sbest-friend
standalone from Danielle Pearl is availanow NOW!

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In Pieces by Danielle
Pearl

Genre: New Adult
Romance

Publishing Date: October 10th,
2017

Three years ago she was left in
pieces . . . Most college freshmen love the newfound freedom of living on campus, but none of
them craves it like Beth Caplan. One ill-fated night when she was fifteen left her locked in a
posh prison of private tutors. It’s for the best, everyone said, and maybe it was. But after years
of hard work and healing, the one person who never thought of her as broken could be the one
to break her all over again. And Beth can’t seem to stay away now any more than she could all
those years ago.

As soon as David March learned
his best friend’s little sister was enrolling at his school, he promised to look after her, and
promised himself he’d keep a safe distance. But the sweet little girl he’d grown up with has
transformed into a gorgeous young woman, and she’s attracting attention from people she
shouldn’t-like the ex who nearly destroyed her and a strange new student with a disturbing
habit of showing up wherever Beth goes. But for David, the most troubling discovery is realizing
that he doesn’t just want Beth to be safe. He wants her to be his.

Excerpt:

David
Present Day

Beth slams the door of the Uber and runs barefoot
into the building, her heels dangling from her hand by their straps. I give her a thirty-second
head start, clenching my jaw shut to resist calling after her with something I might regret,
knowing my temper and the still-potent buzz of alcohol have the potential to create the perfect
storm right now.

Beth bypasses the small elevator bank and veers left
toward the stairwell, heaving the door open and making sure to slam it loudly behind
her.

I shake my head in disapproval, wanting to berate her
for even that—taking the stairs alone at night when she knows the elevators are safer. Even if
the small part of my brain that’s still somewhat rational admits that my building is relatively
safe in general. But it’s her mentality that’s making me crazy. With everything going on right
now, and everything she knows about this fucked- up world, why would she take risks with her
safety at all?

I shove my hand through my hair and slam my foot
into the doorjamb. I just can’t fucking believe her right now! And she has the balls to stomp
away from me as if I’m the fucking bad guy?

I haven’t had much occasion for indignation in my life,
but right now it’s making me grind my teeth into fucking dust. Because the reality is Beth could
get hurt again. She could get hurt worse.

My brain gets caught on that last thought, and I can’t
get past it no matter how hard I try. It rages through me until my blood boils over, the buzz of
alcohol feeding the flames like gasoline as they fire me back into motion. I crush what’s left of
my cigarette under my shoe, and march up the rest of the steps and down our hallway. I’m
already reaching for the door with my keys when I realize it’s fucking ajar, and the sight of it
incenses me even more.

Could she possibly be any more cavalier with her
goddamned safety?

It’s after one in the motherfucking morning! Who the
hell leaves their front door open in the middle of the night like an invitation for trouble?
Especially someone who, on top of everything else, just spent the entire fucking night drinking.
She once told me she thought I was trouble. She has no fucking idea what trouble even
is.

I barge through the door, all out of patience and ready
to tell her off, but the apartment is dark, the only light glowing from the crack beneath the
bedroom door. Beth’s presence would be impossible to miss, though, what with the sound of
her tramping around the room, violently yanking and slamming drawers like she wants the
whole damned building to feel her wrath.

Well, at least that’s one feeling that is definitely
fucking mutual.

I throw the bedroom door open with more force than I
intend, and Beth jumps at the reverberating bang as it smacks against the opposite wall. But
she catches herself without even glancing my way, continuing about her business like I don’t
even fucking exist.

My outrage dissipates as I take her in. Her long blonde
hair is haphazardly piled on top of her head, and she’s already changed into a T-shirt and yoga
pants. My eyes get stuck on her ass for several seconds before I even process the fact that she’s
shoving her shit into her duffle bag.

She yanks open another drawer—the one I’d cleared
for her bras and underwear—and panic rolls through me. It doesn’t mix well with the
indignation. Or the booze.

Somehow I manage to force enough patience to keep
from unloading my every grievance on her at once, and I just stand here glowering, biting back
every word I couldn’t wait to get out just moments ago—those words now lodged
uncomfortably in my throat, held hostage by that fucking duffel. And suddenly I resent that,
too. The fact that Beth has the nerve to vilify me for looking out for her. For taking her out to do
something she fucking loves. But more than anything, I resent that I fucking care. That the sight
of her packing her things affects me. Not just my feelings—my motherfucking feelings—but my
actions, too.

It gives her a kind of control—power. It’s not a
dynamic I’m used to with women, and it’s left me a little lost and a lot confused. And even
more pissed the fuck off. It’s enough to demolish even my pretense of patience, my composure
shattering in one fell swoop, and I spring into action, thrusting myself in front of her in
challenge.

“’The fuck are you doing?” I demand.
Beth’s jaw locks, but she just sidesteps around
me.

“Beth,” I warn.
She snatches handfuls of panties from her drawer—
my drawer—with enough hostility that I worry for the integrity of the delicate lace, and my
inebriated mind actually pities them until I remember it’s me she’s fucking pissed at. The
appearance of her underwear doesn’t help my focus, either. But watching her shove them
purposefully into her bag snaps me back to reality. Or it snaps me the fuck out of my Bethpanty-coma,
at least.

“What the fucking hell are you doing?” I repeat as
calmly as I can manage—which, it turns out, isn’t calm at all. But where the hell does she think
she’s going in the middle of the goddamned night?

“Taking my stuff and going back to my dorm,” Beth
deadpans, and it takes me a second to realize she’s not actually kidding.

I shake my head and grab her upper arms. “The fuck
you are!”

Beth wrenches from my grip, and I have to release her
or risk hurting her, which is not a fucking option. “The fuck I am, is right!” she shouts, skirting
back around me to stuff more clothes into her bag.

And, finally, I lose it.
I grab the offending fucking duffle and flop it upsidedown,
shaking it violently until all of her shit falls onto my bed in an unceremonious pile of all
things Beth.

“What the hell are you doing!” she hisses, climbing
onto the bed to regather her clothes.

I don’t even think. I take hold of her calves and jerk
her knees straight, and she squeals with surprise, falling facedown onto the bed, right atop the
heap of clothing. But I don’t back off. I grab her hips and flip her onto her back in one not-sosmooth
movement, bending over her and planting my palms on either side of her face in a
makeshift cage. Beth’s lips part in a small o of shock, but she can’t escape my gaze, trapped
beneath me like she is.

But that goes both ways, and I force myself to close
my eyes, and inhale a choppy rush of air before meeting hers.

Something changes when I reopen my eyes. Beth’s
temper seems to have dissipated, her dark blonde brows pulled together in helpless
bemusement. Her eyes are deep blue oceans, and they draw me in like an undertow, luring me
into their shallows before drowning me in their depths.

But, somehow, they calm me, and the anger is drained
right out of me as something tugs inside my chest. For a moment I forget how we even got
here. All I register are her sharp, shallow breaths as they whisper against my lips in soft
gusts.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I know this is
dangerous—her lying beneath me like this. It calls to that reckless part of me. The same part
that risked dancing with her tonight…that wants to just say fuck it, again and again and again.
The part that can’t remember the reasons to stay away.

Beth’s tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip, and my
dick jumps in my jeans, still swollen and aching, which it has been all night on some level or
another. I suck in an uneven breath, the air hissing between my teeth, and I know I need to
either get off of her or inside her in the next sixty seconds

InPiecesAN.jpg

Read Today!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2wQ6fPh

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2m891Hp

iBooks: http://apple.co/29QG8M2

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2lqOQ7M

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2a5Uafh

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/29TYZHf

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About the Author:

Danielle Pearl is the Amazon and iBooks international best
selling author of the
Something
More
series. She lives in New Jersey with her
husband and three children. She is a life long book enthusiast who has been writing ever since
she could hold a pencil.

Danielle went to Boston University and worked in marketing
before she published her first novel,
Normal
in 2014. She writes mature Mature Young Adult
and New Adult Contemporary Romance.

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Connect with the Author:

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

Amazon:
http://amzn.to/2yshWx7

Twitter:
@DaniPearlAuthor

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

Website:
http://www.daniellepearl.com/

BLOG TOUR & REVIEW: KING OF CODE BY CD REISS

 

King of Code, an all-new intriguing and sexy standalone from CD Reiss is available NOW!

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King of Code by CD Reiss
Publication Date: September 18th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

From New York Times Bestselling author, CD Reiss, comes a sexy tale of secrets, intrigue, betrayal, and a love worth crossing a continent for.

Taylor Harden is a man on the edge.

The edge of fame. The edge of untold wealth.

The edge of utter humiliation.

He built an unhackable system, and in front of everyone, it’s hacked.

His reputation goes from king to goat in a split second. Boom. Like that.

Some dude in Barrington, USA (AKA Nowhere) has locked down Taylor’s code, and if he doesn’t get it back, he’s going to be wearing a monkey suit for the rest of his life.

Except, this guy? This hacker from Nowhere? He’s not a guy.

Harper Watson’s all woman. And she has a plan for Taylor, his code, and his body.

Excerpt:

“About time!” the older lady shouted.

“Is Harper back?” I asked, handing the bags to the blushing redhead.

As if summoned, Harper came through the swinging door, keeping it open so everyone could get past. She looked at me through the screen.

“You coming in?” she asked.

“We need to talk.”

“Did the decryption key work?”

The door slapped closed behind her as she came out, and we were alone. The way the setting sun hit her cheeks made her glow, and the strands of gold hair at the edges looked translucent. She belonged on a postcard.

I kept forgetting she was holding me hostage. I kept forgetting I needed to think strategically. I had more at stake with this girl than I’d ever had with another.

“Did you doubt it would work?”

“Not really. I’m just making conversation.”

“What are the thorns about?” I pointed at the thorn bed that had eaten my phone and went down the stairs to the yard.

She came after me. “Don’t you have these where you’re from?” She snapped a dry twig off the end.

“Roses? Yes. Impenetrable, groomed thorn bushes in our yards? No.”

“It’s not normal to give the gardeners in town something to do?” We walked around the perimeter.

“You are not normal.”

“It still blooms in spring. It’s really nice. You should see it.”

We were at the back end of the yard, where the very top of the factory’s roof cut the horizon.

I took her hand, pulling her to a stop. “Harper.”

“Taylor?” Her hair flew in her mouth when she turned, and she drew her finger across her cheek to get it out.

What was I supposed to tell her again? That I knew we’d interviewed her. That I didn’t give her the job despite her having a leg up on everyone else we saw.

But was I contrite? Accusatory? Was I just going to relay information? What did I want out of her after I told her I knew?

“Thank you for helping today,” she said. “If you’d asked me when we met, ‘Would Taylor Harden help clean the factory?’ I would have said, ‘No, not for any reason.’ But there you were. Pushing a broom. Scooping up shit. Not being an asshole.”

“My watch was at stake.”

“Yeah. Whatever. You can say what you want to keep your reputation as a shithead intact.”

“I have a reputation as a shithead?”

“You know you do.”

I did know it, and I reveled in it.

She faced me and put her other hand out. I took it, holding both hands between us. I couldn’t help it.

“Well, you guys are such a bunch of sad sacks I had to help. And let me tell you, every guy in Barrington has a little asshole in him. Trust me. I’ve played pool with them.”

“I want to say…” She stopped herself as if she really didn’t want to say. “Let’s get together tonight and get you another decryption code. But… saying this is stupid.” She bit her lip.

“Say it anyway.”

“The sooner you get four codes, the sooner you leave.”

I looked at our hands so I wouldn’t have to look at her.

“I’m not sure if I want that,” she said.

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~*~ TSC REVIEW~*~

5 STARS

There is a reason CD Reiss is one of my very favorite authors. This book was just affirmation of why I have a literary crush on her. 

King of Code is so completely different than any of her other books, and I LOVE that. It just proves how amazing her brain is. 

I’ve never read a story with this kind of plot, and that was the very first thing that made me want to read it (besides the fact that I want to read anything she writes). This story is told completely from Taylor’s perspective, where her others are dual POV, and I have to say, I really enjoyed it. The fact that some of the computer lingo was way over my head did not take away from my understanding or enjoyment of this book at all. 

Taylor and Harper are brilliantly written and with as smart as they are, she managed to keep them human. I love their attraction, and what they bring each others lives.  Then you have the secondary characters, and I am so excited to get their books! 

This book is definitely outside of Christine’s norm, and I’m SO looking forward to getting more in this series. 

Read Today!

Audio: http://amzn.to/2wtCq7L

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

Amazon Print: http://amzn.to/2szX9na

Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/idTpfc

iBooks: https://goo.gl/rMGk9m

Nook: https://goo.gl/W79CEB

Kobo: https://goo.gl/W5Zq8s

Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/68zRuf

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About the Author

CD Reiss is a New York Times bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up she’s at the well hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

She’s frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn’t ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.
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Connect with CD Reiss:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2iwpkPQ
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CDReiss.writer/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cdreisswriter
Instagram: https://instagram.com/cdreiss/
Website: http://www.cdreiss.com
Newsletter: https://cdreiss.com/cd-reiss-mailing-list-signup/