These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.
These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.
Series: The Gibson Boys #1
Author: Adriana Locke
This is one mistake Sienna Landry can’t buy
her way out of.As Walker Gibson looks at her, then at the damage to his precious truck (that
she may or may not have accidentally inflicted), she knows she’s in trouble.
It’s not the busted headlight and dented grill that’s sunk her though. It’s the
downright sinful man in front of her that’s the problem.
The small town mechanic is broody. Rough. Smells like engine grease and
gasoline and Sienna isn’t sure why that’s so sexy, but it is. It so is. She’s
ready to peel off her panties at the drop of his wrench.
He wants her too. She can feel it when he brushes against her. Experience it as
he presses her against the wall of the shop. It’s thinly veiled in his deep,
brown eyes when he looks at her like she’s everything he’s ever wanted. So why
won’t he give in?
The damage to Walker’s truck is the first of many mistakes between the two of
them, ending with truths that rock Sienna’s world. Nothing can fix her broken
heart except the love of a man that won’t, maybe even can’t, love her back.
Crank is a standalone romance in a new small town, blue-collar series from USA
Today bestselling author Adriana Locke. Join readers everywhere as they fall in
love with the delicious Gibson Boys.
Free in Kindle Unlimited
The NHL’s biggest bad boy is about to fall for the virgin next door…I am the world’s biggest dating failure. We’re talking my last date went home with our waitress kind of failure.
But I have an ace in the back pocket of my mom jeans—my sexy-as-sin best friend, NHL superstar forward, Justin Cruise.
Justin owes me favors dating back to seventh grade, long before he became a hotshot with a world famous…stick. So in return for my undying platonic loyalty, all I want is an easy-peasy crash course on how to be a sex goddess.
How hard can it be?
I have never been so hard in my life.
The things I want to do to my sweet, kindergarten-teaching, mitten-crocheting best friend Libby Collins are ten different kinds of wrong. Maybe twenty.
But I’m a firm believer in teaching by example, and by the end of our first lesson, we’ve graduated to a hands on approach to her sexual education: my hands all over her, her hands all over me, and her hot mouth melting beneath mine as I prove to her there isn’t a damned thing wrong with the way she kisses.
Give me a month, and I’ll transform Libby from wall flower to wall banger, and ensure she’s confident enough to seduce any guy she wants.
Problem is… the only guy I want her seducing is me.
Hot as Puck is a sexy, flirty, friends-to-lovers Standalone romantic comedy from USA Today Bestseller Lili Valente.
From the first time I read the synopsis for this book I knew I’d love it, but I have to say there was so much more to the story than I thought going in. It had so many things I adore. Hot, dirty talking alpha with a huge heart- check. A strong, determined heroine – check check. A second chance romance with two people so drawn to each other but unsure they deserve the other -oh yeah triple check. So many things I loved about both Finn and Macy, them finding each other again may have been a twist of fate but the way they were together was totally meant to be and totally beautiful.
To see the fan made book trailer, follow the link below.
We are so excited to share this exciting surprise book announcement from Lisa Renee Jones! Coming next month – Provocative (White Lies Book One) will be out! We’ve got pre-order details, all you need to know about this new book, chapter one of Provocative and an amazing GIVEAWAY you don’t want to miss!!
I am BEYOND excited to introduce my WHITE LIES DUET! This is a sexy, intense, psychological thriller, that is provocative in every way, thus why I named book one: PROVOCATIVE. And since this series takes me back to my indie roots, the pricing is lower than my New York titles, and the release dates are close together.
Here are the details on the series:
And now, without further ado, the covers for the duet, blurb for book one, and CHAPTER ONE of PROVOCATIVE! I can’t wait for you to meet the dirty talking alpha, Nick “Tiger” Rogers. I hope you enjoy him as much as I enjoyed writing him!
Book one in the sexy and intense new White Lies duet by Lisa Renee Jones!
There are those moments in life that are provocative in their very existences, that embed in our minds forever, and sometimes our very souls. They change us, mold us, maybe even save save us. But some are darker, dangerous. If we allow them to, they control us. Seduce us. Quite possibly even destroy us.
The moment I walked into Sonoma’s Reid Winter Winery and Vineyard and made eye contact with Faith Winter for the first time was one of those moments. Provocative because I know at least one of her secrets, of which, I suspect she has many. Provocative because she believes I was a stranger to her when we met, but I am not. Provocative because I sought her out, with no intention of touching her. But now I have. Now I want her. Now I have to have her. But that changes nothing. It doesn’t change why I came for her.
Special $2.99 pre-order price – will increase after release!
Amazon alert: http://bit.ly/ProvocativeAmazonAlert
There are those moments in life that are provocative in their very existences, that embed in our minds forever, and sometimes our very souls. They change us, mold us, maybe even save us. But some are darker, dangerous. If we allow them to, they control us. Seduce us. Quite possibly even destroy us.
The moment I stepped into the mansion that is the centerpiece of the Reid Winter Vineyards and Winery wasn’t one of those moments. Nor were any of the moments I spent weaving through a crowd of suits and dresses cluttering the circle that is the grand foyer of the 1800’s mansion, fancy tiles etched with vines beneath my feet. Nor the ones spent declining three different waiters offering me glasses of various wines from one of the most established vineyards in Sonoma, meant to entice me to buy their bottles and donate money to the charity hosting the gathering. Not even the instant that I spotted the stunning blonde in a snug black dress that hugged her many lush curves proved to be one of those moments, but I would call it a damn interesting one. The moment I decided the blonde silk of her long hair belonged in my hands and on my stomach was also a damn interesting one. And not because she’s fuckable. There are plenty of fuckable women in my life, a number of whom understand that I enjoy demands for pleasure, which I will definitely provide, and nothing more. This woman is too prim and proper to ever agree to such an arrangement, and yet, knowing this, as she and her heart-shaped backside disappear into the congestion of bodies, I find myself pursuing her, looking for more than an interesting moment. I want that provocative one.
I follow her path formed by huddles of two, three, or more people, left and right, to clear a portion of the crowd, scanning to find my beauty standing several feet away, her back to me, with two men in blue suits in front of her. And while they might appear to blend with the rest of the suits in the room, they hold themselves like the parasites I meet too often in the courtroom, those who most often call themselves my opposing counsel. My blonde beauty folds her arms in front of her chest, her spine stiff, and if I read her right–and I read most people right–I am certain that she’s found trouble. But lucky for her, trouble doesn’t like me near as much as I like it.
Closing the space between me and them, I near their little triangle just in time to hear her say, “Are we really doing this here and now?”
“Yes, Ms. Winter,” one of the men replies. “We are.”
“Actually,” I say, stepping to Ms. Winter’s side, her floral scent almost as sweet as the challenge of conquering her opponents that are now mine, “we are not doing this here or now.”
All attention shifts to me, Ms. Winter giving me a sharp stare that I feel rather than see, my focus remaining on the men I want to leave, not the woman I want to make come. “And you would be who?” the suit directly in front of me demands.
I size him up as barely out of his twenty-something diapers, without experience, the glint in his eye telling me he doesn’t realize that flaw, which makes him about as smooth as a six-dollar glass of wine everyone in this place would spit the fuck out. A point driven home by the fact that he’s wearing a three hundred-dollar Italian silk tie, and a hundred-dollar suit, no doubt hoping the tie makes the suit look expensive, and him important. He’s wrong.
“I said, who are you?” he repeats when I apparently haven’t replied quickly enough, his impatience becoming my virtue as my role as cat in this game of cat and mouse is too easily established.
Unwilling to waste words on a predictable, expected question that I’d never ask, I simply reach into the pocket of my three-thousand-dollar light gray suit, which I earned by beating opponents with ten times his experience and negotiation skills, and finger the unimportant prick my card.
He snaps it from my hand, gives it a look that confirms my name and the firm I started a decade ago now, after daring to leave behind a certain partnership in a high-powered firm. “Nick Rogers?” he asks. “Is there another name on the card?” I ask, because, I’m also a fearless smartass every chance I get.
He stares at me for several beats, seeming to calculate his words, before asking, “How many Mr. Rogers sweater jokes do you get?”
I arch a brow at the misguided joke that only serves to poke the Tiger. Suit Number Two, who I age closer to my thirty-six years, pales visibly, then snatches the card from the other man’s hand, giving it a quick inspection before his gaze then jerks to mine. “The Nick Rogers?”
“I don’t remember my mother putting the word ‘the’ in front of my name,” I reply dryly, but then again, I think, she didn’t ask my father, to change my last name either. She just hated him that much.
“Tiger,” he says, and it’s not a question, but rather a statement of “oh shit” fact.
“That’s right,” I say, enjoying the fruits of my labor that created the nickname, not one given to me by my friends.
“Who, or what, the fuck is Tiger all about?” Suit Number One asks.
“Shut up,” Suit Number Two grunts, refocusing on me to ask, “You’re representing Ms. Winter?”
“What I am,” I say, “is standing right here by her side, telling you that it’s in your best interests to leave.”
“Since when do you handle small-time foreclosures?” he demands, exposing the crux of Ms. Winter’s situation.
“I handle whatever the fuck I want to handle,” I say, my tone even, my lips curving as I add, “Including the process of having you both escorted off the property by security.”
“That,” Suit Number One dares to retort, “would garner Ms. Winter unwanted attention in the middle of a busy event. Not that Ms. Winter even has security to call.”
“Fortunately, I have a phone that dials 911 and the ability to call it without asking her.”
“If she’s your client,” Suit Number One says, clearly inferring that she’s not, “you’re obligated to operate with her best interests in mind.”
“My decisions,” I reply, without missing a beat, and without claiming Ms. Winter as a client, “are always about winning. And I assure you that I can think of many ways to spin your story to the press that ensures I win, while also benefiting Ms. Winter.”
“This isn’t my story,” Suit Number One indicates.
“It will be when I’m finished with the press,” I assure him, amused at how easily I’ve led him down the path I want him to travel.
“This is a small community with little to talk about but her,” he says. “She doesn’t want her foreclosure to become the front page story.”
My lips quirk. “If you don’t know how easily I can get the wrong attention for you here, and the right attention for Ms. Winter, you’ll find out.”
“We’ll leave,” Suite Number Two interjects quickly, and just when I think that he’s smart enough to see the way trouble has turned from Ms. Winter to them, he looks at her and says, “We’ll be in touch,” with a not so subtle threat in his tone, before he elbows Suit Number One. “Let’s go.”
Suit Number One doesn’t move, visibly fuming, his face red, that white ring thickening around his lips. I arch a brow at Suit Number Two, who adds, “Now, Jordan.” Jordan, formerly known as Suit Number One, clenches his teeth and turns away, while Suit Two follows.
Ms. Winter faces me, and holy fuck, when her pale green eyes meet mine, any questions I have about this woman and the many I suspect she now has of me, are muted by an unexpected, potentially problematic, palpable electric charge between us. “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft, feminine, a rasp in its depths that hints at emotion not effortlessly contained. “Please enjoy anything you like tonight on the house,” she adds, the rasp gone now, her control returned. Until I take it, I think, but no sooner than I’ve had the thought, she is turning and walking away, the absence of further interaction coloring me both stunned and intrigued, two things that, for me, are ranked with about as much frequency as snow in Sonoma, which would be next to never.
Ms. Winter maneuvers into the crowd, out of my line of sight, and while I am not certain I’d label her a mouse at this point, or ever for that matter, considering what I know of her, I am most definitely on the prowl. I stride purposely forward, weaving through the crowd, seeking that next provocative moment, scanning for her left, right, in the clusters of mingling guests, until I clear the crowd.
Now standing in front of a wide, wooden stairwell, my gaze follows its path upward to a second level, but I still find no sign of Ms. Winter. A cool breeze whips through the air, and I turn to find the source is a high arched doorway, the recently opened glass doors to what I know to be the “Winter Gardens,” a focal point of the property, and a tourist draw for decades, settling back into place. Certain this represents her escape, I walk that direction, and press open the doors, stepping onto a patio that has a stone floor and concrete benches framed by rose bushes. No less than four winding paths greet me as destination choices, the hunt for this woman now a provocation of its own.
I’ve just decided to wait where I am for Ms. Winter’s return when the wind lifts, the floral scent of many varieties of flowers for which the garden is famous touching my nostrils, with one extra scent decidedly of the female variety.
Lips curving with the certainty that my prey will soon to be my prize, I follow the clue that guides my feet to the path on my right, a narrow, winding, lighted walkway, framed by neatly cut yellow flower bushes, which continues past a white wooden gazebo I have no intention of passing. Not when Ms. Winter stands inside it, her back to me, elbows resting on the wooden rail, her gaze casting across the silhouette of what would reveal itself to be a rolling mountainside in daybreak. The way I intend for her to reveal herself.
I close the distance between us, and the moment before I’m upon her, she faces me, hands on the railing behind her, her breasts thrust forward, every one of her lush curves tempting my eyes, my hands. My mouth. “Did those men know you?” she demands, clearly ready and waiting for this interaction. “Did you know them?”
“No and no.”
“And yet they knew the nickname Tiger.”
“My reputation precedes me.”
“I’ll take the bait,” she says. “What reputation?”
“They say I’ll rip my opponent’s throat out if given the chance.”
“Will you?” she asks, without so much as a blanch or blink.
“Yes,” I reply, a simple answer, for a simple question.
“Without any concern for who you hurt,” she states.
I arch a brow. “Is that a question?”
“Should it be?”
“It’s not,” she says. “You didn’t get that nickname by being nice.”
“Nice guys don’t win.”
“Then I’m warned,” she says. “You aren’t a nice guy.”
“Is nice a quality you’re looking for in a man? Because as your evening counsel, Ms. Winter, I’ll advise you that nice is overrated.”
She stares at me for several beats before turning away to face the mountains again, elbows on the railing, in what I could see as a silent invitation to leave. I choose to see it as an invitation to join her. I claim the spot next to her, close, but not nearly as close as I will be soon. “You didn’t answer the question,” I point out.
“You wrongly assume I am looking for a man, which I’m not,” she says, glancing over at me. “But if I was, then no. Nice would be on my list but it would not top my list, however, nowhere on that list would be the ability, and willingness, to rip out someone’s throat.”
“I can assure you, Ms. Winter, that a man with a bite is as underrated as a nice guy is overrated. And I not only know how, and when, to use mine, but if I so choose to biteyou, and I might, it’ll be all about pleasure, not pain.”
Her cheeks flush and she turns away. “My name is Faith.” She glances over at me again. “Should I call you Nick, Tiger, or just plain arrogant?”
“Anything but Mr. Rogers,” I say, enjoying our banter far more than I would have expected when I came here tonight looking for her.
She laughs now too, and it’s a delicate, sweet sound, but it’s awkward, as if it’s not only unexpected, but unwelcome, and an instant later she’s withdrawing, pushing off the railing, arms folding protectively in front of her body, before we’re rotating to face each other. “I need to go check on the visitors.” She attempts to move away.
I gently catch her arm, her gaze rocketing to mine, and in the process her hair flutters in a sudden breeze, a strand of blonde silk catching on the whiskers of my one-day stubble. She sucks in a breath, and when she would reach up to remedy the situation, I’m already there, catching the soft silk and stroking it behind her ear.
“Why are you touching me?” she asks, but she doesn’t pull away, that charge between us minutes ago now ten times more provocative with me touching her, thinking about all the places I might touch next.
“It’s considerably better than not touching you,” I say.
“My bad luck might bleed into you.”
“Bleed,” I repeat, that word reminding me once again of why I’m here, why I really want to fuck this woman. “That’s an extreme, and rather interesting choice of words.”
“Most bad luck is extreme, though not interesting to anyone but the Tigers of the world, creating it. You’re still touching me.”
“Everyone needs a Tiger in their corner. Maybe my good luck will bleed into you.”
“Does good luck bleed?” she asks.
“Many people will do anything for good luck, even bleed.”
“Yes,” she says, lowering her lashes, but not before I’ve seen the shadows in her eyes. “I suppose they would.”
“What would you do for good luck?”
Her lashes lift, her stare meeting mine again. “What have you done for good luck?”
“I came here tonight,” I say.
She narrows her eyes on me, as if some part of her senses, the far-reaching implications of my reply that she can’t possibly understand, and yet still, the inescapable heat between us radiates and burns. “You’re still touching me,” she points out, and this time there’s a hint of reprimand.
“Holding onto that luck,” I say.
“It feels like you’re holding onto mine.”
With that observation that hits too close to the truth, I have no interest in revealing just yet, I drag my hand slowly down hers, allowing my fingers to find hers before they fall away. Her lips, lush, tempting, impossibly perfect for someone I know to be imperfect, part with the loss of my touch, and yet there is a hint of relief in her eyes that tells me she both wants me and fears me.
A most provocative moment, indeed.
“Have a drink with me,” I say.
“No,” she replies, her tone absolute, and while I don’t like this decision, I appreciate a person who’s decisive.
“Good luck and bad luck don’t mix.”
“They might just create good luck.”
“Or bad,” she says. “I’m not in a place where I can take the risk for more bad luck.” She inclines her chin. “Enjoy the rest of your visit.” She pauses and adds, “Tiger.”
I don’t react, but for just a moment, I consider the way she used my nickname as an indicator that she knows who I am, and why I’m here. I quickly dismiss that idea. I’d have seen it in those pale green eyes, and I did not. But as she turns and walks away, and I watch her depart, tracking her steps as she disappears down the path, I wonder at her quick departure, and the fear I’d seen in her eyes. Was the root of that fear her guilt?
That idea should be enough to ice the fire in me that this woman has stirred, but it stokes it instead. Everything male in me wants to pursue her again, and not because I’m here for a reason that existed before I ever met her, when it should be that and nothing more. It is more. I’m aroused and I’m intrigued by this woman. She got to me when no one gets to me. Not a good place to be, considering I came here to prove she killed my father, and maybe even her own mother.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series. Suzanne Todd (producer of Alice in Wonderland) on the INSIDE OUT series: Lisa has created a beautiful, complicated, and sensual world that is filled with intrigue and suspense. Sara’s character is strong, flawed, complex, and sexy – a modern girl we all can identify with.
In addition to the success of Lisa’s INSIDE OUT series, Lisa has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Lisa is presently working on a dark, edgy new series, Dirty Money, for St. Martin’s Press.
Prior to publishing Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women’s Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.
Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at www.lisareneejones.com and she is active on Twitter and Facebook daily.
Stay in touch with Lisa by joining her mailing list:
It’s the weekend before Christmas and I’m sharing with you a fantastic new rocker romance from Harper Sloan!! JADED HEARTS is the first book in the new Loaded Replay series. There’s a tie to the Hope Town and Corps Sercurity series in Chance and if you were paying attention when (and you should have already read) Unexpected Fate, then you’ve met him and the sneak Harper threw out about LR and our girl Wrenlee! We have my review as well as links and an excerpt for you today. I hope you enjoy!
As always stay warm, safe and happy reading! Laters ~Amber
Signing with Brighthouse Records was supposed to be everything we ever wanted—our better life. Our chance at everything we never had but always wanted. All our dreams would finally come true and we were on top of the world. It was our chance at the happiness we never had in life.
Our every desire was at our fingertips and the power of that feeling was all consuming. But then it took every dream we thought would come true and it slapped us in the face with the cold hard reality.
Dreams were just that…something that floated on the cusp of untouchable, taunting you with every graze of your fingertips before slipping even further away.
Happiness…that feeling is a joke.
In the end it became painfully obvious that each of us would always have each other, but we would forever be alone.
Jaded Hearts is the first in a new series from Harper Sloan, and it is a lot like the music Loaded Replay sings – fast, intensely emotional and full of heart! Wrenlee Davenport is jaded by most everything and everyone except her band mates and their music; though even the music isn’t keeping her going at times. Chance Nash has had more and seen more things that have broken parts of him than he cares to admit. So what happens when two jaded and broken souls meet and lightning flashes? Well one hell of a lot of drama and heat that’s for sure! Harper crafted two solid characters here that spoke to the others heart. They each saw what was missing and what was possible in the other, which made for a beautiful love story for me. Can’t wait for more from this crew! 4.75 Stars
Goddamn, that smile is dangerous.
Who am I kidding? He is dangerous.
I do my best to ignore him, but it’s impossible. The steady brush of his arm against where mine is resting on our shared armrest constantly reminds me how much my body wants his touch. The scent of his delicious cologne hits my senses, making me want to climb in his lap and rub my face over his chest to get a potent lungful of it.
I can’t even remember the last time I was this horny, which is pathetically sad, since it was probably around the same time I actually got laid. Years. I think. Close to three. Maybe that’s why I’m a hot mess lately. I turn my head to study the side of his face and wonder if I can use this situation to my advantage. I mean, after all, we are in a ‘relationship’ now.
He turns and gives me a questioning arch of his dark brows, but I brush it off in favor of playing Disney Emoji Blitz on my phone.
By the time we had hit cruising altitude, I could hear the other men around me snoring away but not Chance. He’s fiddling with his phone, completely ignorant of the fact I’m about to start humping his leg.
“Excuse me,” I breathily say, unbuckling my belt and standing to move around him. I stand there, my head bent slightly because of the overhead, and wait. He doesn’t move, though. Instead, he drops his phone to his lap and gives me his complete attention; his eyes even dance a little like he’s finding this whole damn thing funny. “Excuse me,” I repeat, no longer breathy, and seconds away from coming.
No, that’s a lie. I’m still breathy and very much seconds away from soaking my panties even more than they already are.
His large hands grab my hips, and he guides me down on his lap with no resistance from my treacherous body.
“Not what I meant,” I say through clenched teeth, trying to sound harsh and offended, but I just sound dazed and turned on. I wiggle in his hold, trying to get free, but he’s too strong for me.
He leans up in his seat, his chest hitting my back and buries his face in my neck. I’m sure anyone who saw us would see a loving couple who just can’t keep their hands to themselves. He’s playing a dangerous game, though, because the second the solid, hard length of him presses against my backside, I forget this is supposed to be a game and squirm a little more. His teeth nip at my shoulder at the same time his groan hits my ears.
“Stop moving, Wren,” he demands, tightening his fingers on my hips.
“You’re the one who put me on your lap.” I curl my fingers over the empty seat in front of me and squeeze my eyes shut when I feel him growing harder under me.
“Yeah, because the flight attendant who just walked by had her phone out and pointed right at us. She’s doing a shit job of making it look like she’s doing something with her paperwork.” His hand comes off my hip, and he cups my jaw, turning my head to the side just when I was about to look up at where I last saw the attendant, forcing me to shift until all it would take is me throwing one leg over his body to be face-to-face. “Do not look at her,” he stresses; the sudden movement of twisting my body makes me bounce slightly in his lap, rubbing my legging-clad ass against his erection. His eyes drop to my mouth where I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and groan.
“Give me a reason not to look,” I dare him.
“You don’t want to go down that road, Wren. I’ll protect you from the world, but you need to protect yourself from me.”
“No one is asking you to.”
Not even knowing if we’re still being watched, I twist my torso the rest of the way, pulling my legs up until they’re bent at his stomach between us. Now that I’m facing him completely, I bring my hands up to curl them both around his shoulders before dragging them up to wrap around the corded muscles at the sides of his neck. His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t stop me. I give him the chance, but it never comes. Dropping my head, I press my lips to his. I explore his lips with small pecks and little licks of my tongue, learning his mouth before pressing more firmly. He sucks in a breath when I open my mouth and slowly drag the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip.
And then his control snaps.
His hands—still at my hips—lift me effortlessly until my legs are no longer folded between us, but now digging into the hard armrests with my knees pushing into his thighs, my back hitting the seat in front of me. His mouth opens, and his tongue meets mine, no hesitation whatsoever, as he deepens the kiss.
Our breathing echoes around us, making it sound like everyone on this plane could hear us, but I know it’s just because our faces are so close. I let out a moan, one that he swallows, that turns into a whine when he pulls back.
“That can’t happen again,” he softly scolds, just as breathless as I am.
What the hell? I might not have been into this whole fake-boyfriend-slash-bodyguard thing before, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to take advantage of the situation. Especially now that I know how alive he makes me feel. Three years since I had pleasure from anything other than my own hand, and if that kiss is anything to go by, what Chance could make me feel is ten times more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt in my whole life.
I’m not passing that up.
No fucking way.
“We’ll see about that.”
Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn’t writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand.
I’m not sure I really have adequate words, but let me just say that if this is how the Virtuous Paradox series is gonna begin, then everyone better buckle up. Bhodi McKnight is full of angst, insecurities and dirty talk; but he’s also full of potential. I think this is what draws Kimberly Gordon to Bhodi in part; she sees past all the celebrity crap into the heart of who he is.
She surprised me in some ways because initially she is turned off by the way Bhodi has wasted his life, but then meeting him begins to change everything she thought was true. The way she supports him and believes in him was really beautiful. Watching Bhodi come into his own and truly embrace his life and the possibilities with Kim brought lots of feels.
This story was honest and raw. I truly believe that Heidi’s writing keeps getting better. BLOW felt genuine and the connections between characters not forced but truly organic to me. I believed what I was reading and it was obvious there was lots of research done to make it so real. I love a second chance story and this was truly Bhodi’s second chance at so much and I loved it all! Definitely need to add this one to your tbr and get ready for Braydon and Carson too!!
Happy Release Day to Rachel Van Dyken!! Her latest is finally live and so, so much fun to read! The Bachelor Auction is a spin-off of her wildly popular The Bet Series and even features a hilarious appearance by the fabulous Grandma Nadine!! I loved Brock and Jane’s Cinderella story from start to fairy-tale ending! Enjoy my review below and make sure you check this one out if your looking for a fun new read! Laters ~ Amber
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2cqtEJo
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2casLH2
Jane isn’t entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start, but didn’t she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding, entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in sight. Until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering if princes—or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire—maybe do exist.
Except Brock Wellington isn’t anyone’s dream guy. Hell, a prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder. Or act like an arrogant jerk—even if it was just a façade. Now, as Brock is waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it’s karmic retribution that he’s tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can’t have. But while they can’t have a fairy-tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy . .
4.75 stars of total fantastic rom-com fun!! Loved Rachel’s take on a Cinderella story! Brock and the rest of the Wellington boys grabbed me from the start! Their dynamic was full of snark and heart. On the flip side you’ve got Jane and her crazy awful sisters, both of whom made me want to punch them whenever they opened their selfish mouths. Rounding out the mix you’ve got a full menagerie of animals from crazy town as well as Brock’s grandfather and the appearance of Grandma Nadine (probably one of the greatest characters ever!), and well this story never wanted for the unexpected or laughter!
I loved everything about The Bachelor Auction! From start to finish it was just everything I’ve come to love in an RVD book! From the snarky brothers, the crazy animals, the chemistry between Brock and Jane, the unexpected from grandfather Wellington and the appearance (and madcap fun) of Grandma Nadine!! Plus I can’t even tell you the amount of times I snort-laughed during this one with all the hilarity provided by an ass named Sheldon and a cock named Diablo, plus an adorable horse named Buttercup! It’s definitely a fun start to this new series and I know that Bentley’s story is going to be just as fun!
About the Author:
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Welcome to our stop on the A LOVE SO DANGEROUS review tour! I am loving this first book from this latest trilogy of awesome from Lili Valente! This book is not your ordinary romance and I loved all the twists and turns! These characters are dynamic and sexy and fierce. I know some of you hate a cliffhanger, but trust me this story is worth it AND the other two installments are coming soon so your wait isn’t much of anything! Check this one out and pre-order the next! Laters ~ Amber
Review Tour: September 5th & 6th
A Love So Dangerous by Lili Valente
Author: Lili Valente
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Warning: This is one dark, dangerous, dirty-talking, adrenaline-fueled thrill ride. Are you ready?
I’ve got a big c*ck, a bigger bank account, and zero interest in Happily Ever After. I just want to feel alive, to look into a woman’s eyes and see something that’s going to keep my mind off all the shit I refuse to think about for an hour or two.
And then I meet her, a good girl with a body made for sin and ugly problems only a bad man can fix.
A bad man like me…
Gabe Alexander is the devil. Or an angel.
He’s a criminal hiding behind a millionaire dollar pedigree, but he also saved my life and my family. He’s the worst kind of bad news, but every time he touches me, and whispers filthy, beautiful things in my ear, all I want is more.
More of his kiss, his touch, and the dangerous, seductive things he makes me feel.
I don’t want to go bad, but the man makes it feel so damned good…
Warning Part the Second: A Love So Dangerous is the first in a three part series. It is a full-length novel that ends in a cliffhanger. It was formerly published as One Wild Night and This Wicked Rush by Jessie Evans.
Who knew that one amazing night would change Caitlin Cooney’s entire world? A LOVE SO DANGEROUS shows just how it can happen! This book is not sweet. It’s not always happy. But it’s always steamy. Always intriguing. And always, always a rush of adrenaline and emotion. This is not your ordinary romance, but man does it keep your attention.
“Anything can be done with people who love you by your side.”
Caitlin Cooney is a fighter, a survivor and a nurturer. She has taken on the responsibility of raising not only her three younger brothers but her young niece, leaving a scholarship to an exclusive prep school during her junior year to work two jobs to support the family. She doesn’t date, she rarely does anything for herself and most of the time she is more stressed out than someone twice her age trying to figure out how to keep a roof over their heads, food in their bellies and the young kids out of the system. But despite all these hardships and the support of a couple of really good friends, Caitlin is a bit scared and a bit lonely even if she won’t completely admit it. So when Gabe and she share one wild night and he offers one crazy proposition things in Caitlin’s world change in unseen ways.
Gabe Alexander is an ass. He is a player. He is everything rich, spoiled and a total contradiction of it all behind that façade. Gabe has had it all handed to him all his life, everything but feeling wanted and loved. Though that is not how Gabe presents himself and not what he thinks he wants he knows he wants Caitlin. What starts as him trying to exact some justice on some scumbags his defense attorney father has gotten off, it becomes oh so much more as Caitlin becomes first his partner in crime and then “his everything”.
“…none of us truly know what we’re capable of until we’re put in an impossible situation, until we step over the line and realize things aren’t so very different on the other side after all…”
Caitlin and Gabe are sizzling together. They feed off each other and while Gabe brings out the fierceness in Caitlin, being with Caitlin brings out the caring and wanting for more that Gabe professes he never wants. They are supposed to only be together for the summer and by the end of it go their separate ways, Gabe back to school and Caitlin with enough financial security to stop killing herself and be able to go to college. However the best laid plans and all that. As much as Caitlin wants to resist Gabe she can’t and hasn’t been able to since that first night, and maybe just maybe Gabe wants more from Caitlin than just a “fake girlfriend or a partner in crime”. What they find together is exhilarating, thrilling and scary as hell but it just might be the best love that either of them never knew they needed. Can’t wait to see what happens in the follow up to this one because this story was just a complete and total rush of emotions!!
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“What is tonight about?” I ask, a shockwave of desire rocketing through me at the thought of Gabe and I naked together, though I know I’m not ready, not really, no matter what the lustful voices in my head are trying to tell me.
“It’s about convincing you I’m the best way to spend your summer.” His palms mold to my ribs as he kisses down my neck to the hollow of my throat, soft, hot kisses that make me gasp for breath and my nipples pucker in the cool, conditioned air.
He keeps trailing kisses down the center of my chest while his hands come to cup my breasts, holding one gently in each hand, carefully avoiding the places where I’m dying for him to kiss me, touch me. He continues to kiss me everywhere but there, his soft lips feathering back and forth across my ribs until my nipples are pulled so tight the sensation is almost painful.
Only then—when I’m squirming and moaning and there can be no doubt in his mind how much I crave his attention—does he take me in his mouth.
I cry out, driving my fingers into his hair and fisting tight, urging him closer as he licks and sucks and bites. Bites.
But even the biting is perfect, a flash of pain that adds to my pleasure until my breath comes fast and the world goes soft and red at the edges and there is nothing but his mouth and his tongue and the way I ache for him, burn for him, need him to spread me wide and do whatever he wants to do to me as long as he takes the ache away.
“Please, Gabe,” I breathe, clawing at his shoulders. “Please.”
“Please what?” he says, flicking his tongue across my nipple, making me flinch and cry out again. “You know what I like, Caitlin. You know I like you to beg for it.”
“Please fuck me with your mouth,” I say, the words spilling out without hesitation or anger. I’m too far gone to care what he wants me to do, so long as he gives me what I need. “Please make me come, Gabe, please. Please!”
“Lift your hips,” he says, his voice tight as his fingers fist in the sides of my panties.
I obey and Gabe makes my underwear vanish and then he is between my legs, spreading my thighs with his warm hands, mumbling something I can’t make out, but that sounds pained and reverent and sweet all at the same time.
As sweet as the first kiss he places to the center of me, one sweet, warm, tender kiss that threatens to unravel me completely.
And then the kiss becomes a swirl of his tongue and sparks shoot from my core, sizzling across my skin, and my head feels like it’s going to float right off my body and there is no more “me” to unravel, only a quivering mass of heat and need that arches closer to Gabe’s mouth, shamelessly begging for what I crave.
I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut, not knowing what to do with all the things he’s making me feel, all the sensation and emotion and the fear that I’m spiraling so far out of control I may never be the same again.
Meet the Author:
Lili Valente has slept under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.
These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.
Connect with Lili:
Well happy Tuesday everyone! Let’s call this a blogger fail, because trying to adult totally got in the way of posting this fantastic excerpt for Jenn Foor’s latest release that hit the world yesterday!! In any event, I hope you will all check out the first in a BRAND NEW SERIES from the amazing JFoor!! I love her stories and if you haven’t read her yet I urge you to check her out!! I know she has some fantastic back list freebies out there! Until then take a look at everything that is SALT WATER WOUNDS!! Laters ~ Amber
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2b88n9r
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2bbynQ6
Add Salt Water Wounds to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/2bA3MLI
After losing his wife to an untimely death, Buck Wallace has been raising his six children on his own for the last eight years. By day he runs the family business, while at night he’s still lost and alone. When a business opportunity arises, Buck insists on trying his hands at something new.
Alice Perry is desperate to sell her bar, but there’s always a catch to any good deal. She’s had her eye on Buck for a long time. When she learns he’s interested in buying her bar, she decides to provide him with an offer no man could ever refuse.
While I try to comprehend my indifferences, I hear the sound of the slider opening. Perry has changed into a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt, and since it’s chilly I can tell she’s not wearing a bra underneath. The slightest thought causes parts of me to awaken.
“The storm is keeping me awake,” she whispers while taking her first step onto the porch.
I stand to greet her, not knowing if it’s my body or mind making the decision to do so. “Me too.”
Her eyes are locked on mine, her hands grazing each of my arms as she inches even closer. I can feel her breath against my skin, her body pressing over the front of me. “Storms like this get me freaked out. I was hoping you’d be the distraction I need tonight, Buck. It’s just us right now. You and me. Just let it happen.” She brings one hand up and glides a few fingers over my lips. My eyelids shut as I take in the experience of feeling someone intimately touching me after a long bout of dormancy. It’s electrifying, much like the lightning illuminating the sky around us. She’s meticulous as she continues to trace them, parting them enough in order to lean in and coarse her puffy lips across. This precise moment sends my limbs into overdrive. My senses begin to awaken, and I’m forced to allow it to happen, because there’s no way I’m able to stop. Our first kiss is slow, mindful, but above all a hint of everything I’ve forgotten. She maps her way back down my arms, attaching her hold on either side of my waist. Her fingers tuck into the back of my belt, making sure I’m unable to easily pull away. Her mouth beckons me, the slip of her tongue teasing mine. My limp hands finally lift to come around her tiny midriff to rest right above her perfect ass. I tuck them down into the back pockets of her soft shorts and keep them there.
I move my head away for a breath, taking her in before crashing back into a more powerful kiss. My tongue finds hers, desperate and wanting. They mingle together, setting a dynamic pattern as they rub and play. With each stroke I’m withering away into a pool of desire; a place deep within that I thought would never see the light of day again. She’s breaking down my walls by the second, forcing me to be the man she needs, and the one I’ve refused to show anyone for years.
This is what I need. It’s what I want.