Cover Reveal: Mixed Up by Emma Hart

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000035_00022]Hiring my brother’s best friend was not on my to-do list.

Neither was he.

 

Expanding my dirty cocktail bar into food was supposed to be easy, except finding a chef in my little town of Whiskey Key is anything but.

Until Parker Hamilton comes home—bringing his Michelin starred chef’s hat with him.

He has no work. I need someone like him in my new kitchen.

There’s just one problem: I hate his cocky, filthy-mouthed, sexy-as-hell guts.

Even if I might want him. Just a little…

 

 

Working for my best friend’s sister? Not on my to-do list.

She’s another story.

 

Whiskey Key was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, except I haven’t reached the heights I have by lying in a hammock drinking cocktails. So when Raven Archer is desperate for a chef, I offer up my skills.

I’m bored. She needs what I can give her.

Except there’s a problem: I’ve always hated her.

Her and her big, blue eyes, sassy mouth, and killer curves.

If only I didn’t want her.

 

 

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By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

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Book Release and Review: Catching Carly by Emma Chase

 

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000035_00027]My name is Carly Porter… And I’m really good at bad decisions.

How do I know this, exactly? Well, not including the time I accidentally bleached my eyebrows or sprained my ankle changing a lightbulb…

I had sex with my best friend’s brother.

Zeke Elliott has been a thorn in my side for eleven years. A very sexy, very tempting, very freaking annoying one. With big…hands.

And now my clitoris has a crush on the guy.

Seriously. I can’t look at him without my vagina performing accidental kegels. Which would be fine, but he’s Cain’s brother. I hate him. He’s off limits, right?

Right.

My Review

I so enjoyed Carly and Zeke. These two were absolutely hilarious and seemed so real. These two “accidentally” sleep together. Zeke is her best friend’s brother and her they have been frenemies for the past 11 years. I imagine these two have been antagonizing each other for years. When they sleep together, these two can’t stay away from each other. Zeke is handsome, real, and absolutely funny as hell. He doesn’t put up with Carly and can be as mouthy as she is with him. Their banter is my favorite part of this book but Zeke’s past is standing in the way. He is reeling from his fiancee cheating on him but Carly has never been anything but honest. Carly wants the whole thing including the happy ending. Can these two make it work? Pick it up…you will laugh so hard and the pages will fly by.

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“Don’t blame me,” he says. “You’re easy to rile. You rise to the bait every time…Like a pretty little piranha.”

“Did you just—” I spin, the wet cloth in my hand, and stare at him.

He’s holding my cake. And he’s bitten into it. The frosting is on his nose.

I respond the only possible way. I throw the cloth I’m holding at his face. It’s a damn good shot, because it opens up mid-air and covers half his face, leaving one of his eyes uncovered.

Brooke coughs and looks away.

“Thanks.” Zeke wipes his face off with the cloth and chucks it back to me. “I needed that. The damn frosting gets everywhere.”

“My frosting,” I shoot at him, turning the tap back on. “My cupcake, my frosting, your karma.”

“You two are exhausting.” Brooke sighs, joining me at the sink. “You either need to be separated on a permanent basis, like three-year-olds, or just have sex.”

My stomach loop-the-loops. “Unless he comes with batteries, I’m not interested.”

“I don’t need batteries,” Zeke offers, his sexy grin now an even sexier smirk. “It’s pretty easy to keep going when you’re being prayed to mid-fuck.”

“Why? Because you’re a god?” Brooke asks dryly. “How original of you. That’s never been used by a guy in the history of ever.”

Well. In all fairness, I might have begged to a deity once or twice when we…Never mind.

Not thinking about that.

“Can we not talk about sex?” I look around the room.

“Why?” Cain grins. “Aren’t you getting any?”

I look him dead in the eye and say, “I don’t need any.”

Zeke snorts. “People always need sex, Carly.”

I turn my attention to him and raise my eyebrow. “No. People need oxygen and water and food. You don’t even need sex to make babies now. Your point is moot.”

 

 

 

 

 

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emma-hart

By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

SIGN UP FOR ALL NEW RELEASE INFO!

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Book Review: Fake Fiancee by Ilsa Madden-Mills

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Pretending never felt so good….

 

Fake Fiancée by Ilsa Madden-Mills is NOW LIVE!

ONLY $0.99 & Free on Kindle Unlimited.

 

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

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

Amazon Paperback:  http://amzn.to/2ldp4TS

Blurb

A new standalone romance from Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Ilsa Madden-Mills…

They say nothing compares to your first kiss,

But our first kiss was orchestrated for an audience.

Our second kiss…that one was REAL.

He cradled my face like he was terrified he’d f*ck it up.

He stared into my eyes until the air buzzed.

Soft and slow, full of sighs and little laughs,

He inhaled me like I was the finest Belgian chocolate,

And he’d never get another piece.

A nip of his teeth, his hand at my waist…

And I was lost.

I forgot he was paying me to be his fake fiancée.

I forgot we weren’t REAL.

Our kiss was pure magic, and before you laugh and say those kinds of kisses don’t exist…

Then you’ve never touched lips with Max Kent, the hottest quarterback in college history.

Get ready for breathtaking kisses and dreamy football players…

EXCERPT

Max stalked over to the barrier that divided the stands from the football field and jumped it. The fans went nuts as he brushed past them, some not even realizing it until he was down the aisle. The Jumbotron followed him.

“Good Lordy, what’s he doing?” Mimi asked, clutching at her chest.

“I don’t know,” I said rather weakly, taking the chance to study him the closer he came. He was beautiful, his shoulders impossibly broad. To add to the distraction, his helmet was in his hand and all that dark brown hair was flowing around his chiseled features as if he had a fan in his face. My Viking.

“He’s coming over here,” Mimi commented.

He was. But why?

I stopped breathing . . .right when he came to a halt in front of me and knelt down on one knee.

Eyes the color of a wild ocean gazed at me.

He took my left hand in his right one.

“Max,” I breathed, my heart fluttering.

He gazed up at me. “Sunny Blaine, will you marry me?”

The stadium went wild. In a daze, I looked up at the Jumbotron and felt like I was watching this happen to someone else. Camera phones flashed all around us.

My first clear thought was I’ll kill him.

Aloud, nothing came out but a faint wheeze. Clearly someone had stuffed a giant wad of cotton in my mouth. Clearly I needed something a lot stiffer to drink than this Diet Coke. Clearly my fake boyfriend was a freaking raving lunatic.

He sat his helmet on the ground next to my feet, reached inside it and pulled out a small black box.

No, no, no!

The box opened, and my stomach churned at the sight of the large round solitaire diamond ring that was nestled on the black silk. I blinked repeatedly to clear my vision.

With deft fingers, Max eased it out of the lining and slipped it on my left hand.

I stared down at it. Then back at him.

I was going to murder the hottest quarterback in the country.

Kiss her, Kiss her, the crowd chanted.

We were the focal point of the entire world.

Max stood and tugged me up with him until we were standing. He slid his hand around my neck and pulled his face to mine. The sky was blotted out as he kissed me.

But I hadn’t said yes!

I wouldn’t say yes.

Not to a fake engagement.

The applause of the stadium was deafening. And his kiss—it was deadly. Despite my rage, my body craved him. His lips were hot, so hot, and my tongue met his with a vengeance. We kissed hard, and I nipped at him, my teeth scraping across his lips. But the only one who’d end up bleeding in this scenario was me.

He eased back to take me in, and with a final look at my face he gave a thumbs-up sign to the entire stadium. They went nuts, chanting his name.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear, letting his hand trail down my arm as he stepped back from me. He walked away backward, eyes on me the entire time. The announcers for the game told everyone who might have missed it that Max Kent had just asked his girlfriend to marry him, and she’d said yes. More cheers came as they replayed him on his knee in front of me with a giant YES written across the top.

I plopped back down in my seat. Frozen.

“. . . did you see her face? Shocked . . .”

“. . . most romantic thing in football . . .”

“. . . luckiest girl in the world . . .”

My face went hot. Even my ears burned. I wanted to crawl under a seat.

God.

What a lie.

The half ended and our offense came out to the field, snapped the ball, and Max threw it straight to Tate who ran it in for another touchdown. My chest constricted and anger churned in my gut.

I didn’t care who won.

I hated football right now.

Most of all, I hated Max Kent, and I was going to make him pay.

My Review

I really enjoyed this book. Ilsa Madden-Mills is one of my new one click authors. She always gets the story right. Fake Fiancée is a new adult novel that combines young love with just good old fashion storytelling. The back and forth between the main characters keeps you coming back for more until the book is done and you are shaking your head wondering how you finished a book so fast.

Max Kent is the star quarterback at his college and his eyes are on the prize: The Heisman Trophy. Unfortunately for him, the buzz surrounding him isn’t all positive after an altercation with a teammate and his ex-girlfriend. He needs to stay on the straight and narrow. After a strange first encounter with Sunny, they become friends.

Sunny Blaine has come a long way in her short life. She has left her past behind and is looking toward her future. She busts her butt to work her way through school and she recently had her heart broken by a jock. When she meets Max, she swears its hands off and friends only.

Max and Sunny are kindred spirits and quickly recognize this in each other. Of course, their friendship starts to take a romantic turn but can either of them handle it with so much on the line? The chemistry between these two feels real and natural. You can’t wait to see what happens next. Of course, in true male fashion, Max almost screws everything up.

I couldn’t read this story fast enough. It is currently only $.099. Grab it fast. This story is worth the read!

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About the Author

Wall Street Journal best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

 

She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding females. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Ian Somerhalder, astronomy (she’s a Gemini), and tattoos. She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education. When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets and fuzzy pajamas.

 

She loves to hear from readers and fellow authors. Email her at ilsamaddenmills@gmail.com.

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | Instagram

 

THANK YOU!

 

Pretending never felt so good….

 

Fake Fiancée by Ilsa Madden-Mills is NOW LIVE!

ONLY $0.99 & Free on Kindle Unlimited.

 

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

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

Amazon Paperback:  http://amzn.to/2ldp4TS

 

Blurb

 

A new standalone romance from Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Ilsa Madden-Mills…

They say nothing compares to your first kiss,

But our first kiss was orchestrated for an audience.

Our second kiss…that one was REAL.

He cradled my face like he was terrified he’d f*ck it up.

He stared into my eyes until the air buzzed.

Soft and slow, full of sighs and little laughs,

He inhaled me like I was the finest Belgian chocolate,

And he’d never get another piece.

A nip of his teeth, his hand at my waist…

And I was lost.

I forgot he was paying me to be his fake fiancée.

I forgot we weren’t REAL.

Our kiss was pure magic, and before you laugh and say those kinds of kisses don’t exist…

Then you’ve never touched lips with Max Kent, the hottest quarterback in college history.

Get ready for breathtaking kisses and dreamy football players…

 

EXCERPT

 

Max stalked over to the barrier that divided the stands from the football field and jumped it. The fans went nuts as he brushed past them, some not even realizing it until he was down the aisle. The Jumbotron followed him.

“Good Lordy, what’s he doing?” Mimi asked, clutching at her chest.

“I don’t know,” I said rather weakly, taking the chance to study him the closer he came. He was beautiful, his shoulders impossibly broad. To add to the distraction, his helmet was in his hand and all that dark brown hair was flowing around his chiseled features as if he had a fan in his face. My Viking.

“He’s coming over here,” Mimi commented.

He was. But why?

I stopped breathing . . .right when he came to a halt in front of me and knelt down on one knee.

Eyes the color of a wild ocean gazed at me.

He took my left hand in his right one.

“Max,” I breathed, my heart fluttering.

He gazed up at me. “Sunny Blaine, will you marry me?”

The stadium went wild. In a daze, I looked up at the Jumbotron and felt like I was watching this happen to someone else. Camera phones flashed all around us.

My first clear thought was I’ll kill him.

Aloud, nothing came out but a faint wheeze. Clearly someone had stuffed a giant wad of cotton in my mouth. Clearly I needed something a lot stiffer to drink than this Diet Coke. Clearly my fake boyfriend was a freaking raving lunatic.

He sat his helmet on the ground next to my feet, reached inside it and pulled out a small black box.

No, no, no!

The box opened, and my stomach churned at the sight of the large round solitaire diamond ring that was nestled on the black silk. I blinked repeatedly to clear my vision.

With deft fingers, Max eased it out of the lining and slipped it on my left hand.

I stared down at it. Then back at him.

I was going to murder the hottest quarterback in the country.

Kiss her, Kiss her, the crowd chanted.

We were the focal point of the entire world.

Max stood and tugged me up with him until we were standing. He slid his hand around my neck and pulled his face to mine. The sky was blotted out as he kissed me.

But I hadn’t said yes!

I wouldn’t say yes.

Not to a fake engagement.

The applause of the stadium was deafening. And his kiss—it was deadly. Despite my rage, my body craved him. His lips were hot, so hot, and my tongue met his with a vengeance. We kissed hard, and I nipped at him, my teeth scraping across his lips. But the only one who’d end up bleeding in this scenario was me.

He eased back to take me in, and with a final look at my face he gave a thumbs-up sign to the entire stadium. They went nuts, chanting his name.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear, letting his hand trail down my arm as he stepped back from me. He walked away backward, eyes on me the entire time. The announcers for the game told everyone who might have missed it that Max Kent had just asked his girlfriend to marry him, and she’d said yes. More cheers came as they replayed him on his knee in front of me with a giant YES written across the top.

I plopped back down in my seat. Frozen.

“. . . did you see her face? Shocked . . .”

“. . . most romantic thing in football . . .”

“. . . luckiest girl in the world . . .”

My face went hot. Even my ears burned. I wanted to crawl under a seat.

God.

What a lie.

The half ended and our offense came out to the field, snapped the ball, and Max threw it straight to Tate who ran it in for another touchdown. My chest constricted and anger churned in my gut.

I didn’t care who won.

I hated football right now.

Most of all, I hated Max Kent, and I was going to make him pay.

 

About the Author

Wall Street Journal best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

 

She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding females. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Ian Somerhalder, astronomy (she’s a Gemini), and tattoos. She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education. When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets and fuzzy pajamas.

 

She loves to hear from readers and fellow authors. Email her at ilsamaddenmills@gmail.com.

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | Instagram

 

THANK YOU!

Book Review: Egomaniac by Vi Keeland

 

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The night I met Drew Jagger, he’d just broken into my new Park Avenue office.
I dialed 9-1-1 before proceeding to attack him with my fancy new Krav Maga skills.
He quickly restrained me, then chuckled, finding my attempted assault amusing.

Of course, my intruder had to be arrogant.
Only, turned out, he wasn’t an intruder at all.

Drew was the rightful occupant of my new office. He’d been on vacation while his posh space was renovated.
Which was how a scammer got away with leasing me office space that wasn’t really available for rent.
I was swindled out of ten grand.

The next day, after hours at the police station, Drew took pity on me and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. In exchange for answering his phones while his secretary was out, he’d let me stay until I found a new place.
I probably should have acted grateful and kept my mouth shut when I overheard the advice he was spewing to his clients. But I couldn’t help giving him a piece of my mind.
I never expected my body to react every time we argued. Especially when that was all we seemed to be able to do.

The two of us were complete opposites. Drew was a bitter, angry, gorgeous-as-all-hell, destroyer of relationships. And my job was to help people save their marriages.
The only thing the two of us had in common was the space we were sharing.
And an attraction that was getting harder to deny by the day.

ADD TO GOODREADS

MY REVIEW

Egomaniac is another solid, engaging contemporary standalone romance from Vi Keeland. Drew and Emerie are characters that you easily fall in love with and laugh out loud at their banter and antics. Poor Emerie just moved from Oklahoma to NYC and has dumped all her life savings into a new office space. Little does she know that she has been duped and is actually in Drew’s office. Drew handles it all the way we would imagine a grumpy Alpha male would but he still manages to be understanding and help Emerie out. The slow burn that ignites into a raging fire between these two is so enjoyable.

Drew has a ton of baggage that wouldn’t be easy to put aside. He doesn’t share his past with any of the women he dates (loose term) but feels comfortable sharing with Emerie. Emerie’s past hang up with Baldwin leaves her feeling lonely until Drew comes along. She enjoys her time with him and their chemistry is through the roof. Things get a tad complicated and Drew’s first inclination is too shut down. Watching these two figure out what they want and how to go about getting it was beautiful and seemed so real.

This is another Vi Keeland book that you should pick up immediately. You won’t regret it.

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Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times Bestselling author. With more than a million books sold, her titles have appeared in over fifty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twelve languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

 

Website | Facebook Fan Group | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Book Release: Being Brooke by Emma Hart

 

 

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My name is Brooke Barker…

And I’m a freaking disaster.

No, seriously. I’m a college drop-out working a dead-end job, my best friend Carly’s dog gets more action than I do, and I have more bad dates in my diary than there are movie remakes.

Not to mention I’m completely and utterly in love with Cain Elliott.

The problem? He’s in a relationship. With a girl who’s so plastic she makes Barbie cry herself to sleep with jealousy.

The second problem? He’s my best friend.

My shut-up-and-put-harry-potter, yes-this-is-your-shirt, help-I-have-no-power, crap-I’m-out-of-tampon, kinda best friend.

And that’s all he can be, right?

Right.

Being Brooke is a standalone romantic comedy. Hilarious, super-sexy, and possibly highly inappropriate at times, this is the perfect feel-good read!

iBOOKS / B&N /

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emma-hart

By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

SIGN UP FOR ALL NEW RELEASE INFO!

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

Book Release and Review: Heat Wave by Karina Halle

 

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heat-wave-3d-bookThey say when life closes one door, another one opens.

This door happens to lead to paradise.

And a man I can never, ever have.

Still grieving the loss of her sister who died two years ago, the last thing Veronica “Ronnie” Locke needed was to lose her job at one of Chicago’s finest restaurants and have to move back in with her parents. So when a window of opportunity opens for her – running a kitchen at a small Hawaiian hotel – she’d be crazy not to take it.

The only problem is, the man running the hotel drives her crazy:

Logan Shephard.

It doesn’t matter that he’s got dark brown eyes, a tall, muscular build that’s sculpted from daily surfing sessions, and a deep Australian accent that makes your toes curl.

What does matter is that he’s a grump.

Kind of an asshole, too.

And gets under Ronnie’s skin like no one else.

But the more time Ronnie spends on the island of Kauai, falling in love with the lush land and its carefree lifestyle, the closer she gets to Logan. And the closer she gets to Logan, the more she realizes she may have pegged him all wrong. Maybe it’s the hot, steamy jungles or the invigorating ocean air, but soon their relationship becomes utterly intoxicating.

There’s just one major catch.

The two of them together would incite a scandal neither Ronnie, nor her family, would ever recover from.

Forbidden, Illicit, off-limits – sometimes the heat is worth surrendering to, even if you get burned.

 

AMAZON | Amazon Paperback | iBooks | B&N

 

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PROLOGUE

I saw him first.

It shamed me to think it then, it shames me to think it now.

But that’s what the truth does to you sometimes. It shames you because it’s only in the truth that you realize how human you really are. What a raw, devastating thing that is, to embrace your humanity and learn to live with all your sharp points, the hollow places, the cracks and the crevices. To be utterly real. To be terribly flawed.

Those cracks had always been forming inside me, slowly making their way to the surface over the years. In my family, there wasn’t much you could do but try and hold yourself together, to stick glue on your wounds, to paste over the imperfections. But the cracks still grew, until all of us were held together by crumbling cement, just statues waiting to collapse.

That was years and years ago. I was just twenty-two at the time. A baby. I’m still a baby in the grand scheme of things, but there’s something precious about your early twenties, where you think you’re so much older, bigger, than you are, where life is just about to deliver the crushing blows that will knock you off your feet for the rest of your days. The small things become the big things and the big things become the small things and you aren’t quite sure when they made the switch.

But in the end, I saw him first. He was mine, even before he knew it. He was mine in some strange way that I still don’t understand. The only way I can think of to explain it is…

You just know.

There are moments in your life, people in your life, that when they cross your path and meet your eye, you know. Maybe it’s all in the chemistry, certain pheromones that react when they mix together, maybe it’s a smell that triggers a memory, maybe it’s a glimpse at a future you don’t recognize or a hint at the past, a life you’ve lived and forgotten. Whatever it is, you know that moment, that person, is going to shape you for the rest of your life.

That’s what it was like when I saw him. Standing over by the windows and staring out Lake Michigan, like he was wishing he could be anywhere but there.

I wished the same. My mother’s the deputy mayor of Chicago and this was another one of her fundraisers I felt obliged to attend. It was tradition in my family, for my father, for me, for my sister, to show up and wave the flag of support. It didn’t seem to matter that the stuffy politicians that surrounded these events never paid me any attention. And if they did, it was the wrong kind of attention, always the sixty-year-old man leering after the young thing with the nice smile.

Luckily I didn’t smile all that often. My resting bitch face took over whenever I was deep in thought, which was pretty much all the time.

But this guy…I felt a kinship with him. I felt like I knew exactly what he was thinking, feeling, and that it was completely wrapped up in and connected to everything that was going through me.

I don’t know where I found the nerve to go over and talk to him. He seemed so much older, not quite the sixty-year-old politicians I was used to seeing, but maybe in his early-thirties. More than that, there was some kind of aura around him. Sounds stupid, I know. Whatever it was, it was like he belonged in some whole other universe than here, a star on earth, permanently grounded and yearning to be in the sky.

It was usually Juliet’s job to go around and make everyone feel warm and comfortable at these events—hell, in every event—but she wasn’t here yet. And though I could have easily stayed in the shadows, I was pulled to him, like he had a wave of gravity whirling around him.

I remember what I was wearing. Strappy flats because I hated wearing heels, a knee-length cocktail dress in emerald green, sleeveless, high-neck. It made me look older and I wore it because my mother always wanted me to look like a lady.

With a glass of champagne in hand, I made my way over to the windows, my heart racing the closer I got to him. He looked taller up close, well over six feet. His shoulders were broad, like a swimmer’s, and suddenly I had a vision of him diving into the lake. The navy blue suit he was wearing looked well-tailored but he seemed uncomfortable in it, like he couldn’t wait to get rid of it.

I stood beside him for a moment, following his gaze out the window. He seemed lost in his thoughts but out of my peripheral his head tilted slightly and he brought his eyes over to me while I kept staring at that wide expanse of water, stretching out to the horizon.

“Can’t wait to get out of here?” I asked, but though my tone was mild, my delivery was bold. It was as if someone else had taken a hold of my body, forcing me to speak. I slowly turned my head to meet his eyes.

I was taken aback for a second. He was staring at me like he knew me, even though I’d never seen him before. Then again, I was sure I’d been staring at him in the same way. That feeling of knowing. He knew me, I knew him, and who the hell knows how that was possible.

His eyes were brown—are brown—dark with currents of gold and amber, giving them beautiful clarity. Slightly almond shaped. His brows were also dark, arched, adding to the intensity of his gaze. He’s the type of guy whose eyes latch onto you, dig deep, trying to sift through the files of your life, see who you really are.

“How did you know?” he asked, a full-on Australian accent rumbling through his gruff voice. It made my stomach flip, my core smolder. How deed you now, is what it sounded like. Funny how I stopped hearing the accent after time.

I gave a half shrug and looked back to the party. More people had flooded the room, mingling around the appetizers. My mother was in the corner, a crowd of politicians around her. She didn’t see me. She never did.

“Because I think I’d rather be in the middle of Lake Michigan too,” I told him, “then be stuck here with all these people.”

“These people,” he repeated. My focus was drawn to his lips, full, wide, tilting up into a smirk. Beneath them was a strong chin and even sharper jaw, dusted with a five o’clock shadow that seemed permanent, like the man couldn’t get a clean shave even if he tried. “How do you know I’m not one of these people?”

“Because you’re over here and not over there. How come you keep answering my questions with more questions?”

He studied me for a moment. My blood pounded in my head and I felt a giddy kind of thrill at how this was progressing. If anything, I was proud for holding my own with this handsome stranger. He was the first man I ever really felt at ease with.

He cleared his throat, offered me a quick smile before he nodded at the lake, his hands sliding into his pockets. “She almost looks like the ocean, doesn’t she?”

“Not quite the same as Australia, I would imagine.”

“No hiding this accent, is there?” He glanced at me and stuck out his hand, which I shook for a moment, warm palm to warm palm. “I’m Logan Shepard. Australian. And the reason I’m here is because I was invited by a friend of mine. I’m only in town for a few days and he didn’t want to go alone. He’s over there.” He nodded at a tall black man in the corner, listening intently to another man.

“Warren Jones,” he said, as if I should know him. Perhaps I should. He probably thought I was one of them. “He’s local and the key piece to my investment.”

I wasn’t one for business talk—I never had anything to contribute other than lamenting student loans—but I wanted him to keep talking. “What’s your investment?”

“Starting my own hotel,” he said. “In Hawaii. Have you ever been there?”

“Once. When I was eight. I think we were in Honolulu. I remember a city, anyway. Waikiki Beach.”

“This hotel is in Kauai. The Garden Isle. Went there once as a teenager and couldn’t get it out of my mind.”

I didn’t know the right things to say. I wanted to ask more about the hotel, what it means when you have an investor, but I didn’t want to appear dumb. I kept my mouth shut.

“You haven’t introduced yourself,” he said. “Protecting a secret identity?”

I smiled, close-lipped. “Not really. I’m Veronica Locke. American. And I unfortunately I don’t have much else to add to that.”

“Locke?” he repeated, eyes darting to my mother. “Are you the daughter of the deputy mayor, Rose Locke?”

“One of them,” I told him.

He nodded quickly. “I see. No wonder you’d rather be in the middle of the bloody lake. I bet you have to do this stuff all the time.”

“It’s not so bad.” I took a sip of my drink so I didn’t have to say anything more and looked away at the crowd. The bubbles teased my nose, making my eyes water.

I could feel his gaze on me as he spoke. “I’m sure you have plenty more to say about yourself though. Where do you work? Student?”

“Culinary arts,” I told him. “I’m one of those crazy people who dream of being a chef one day.”

He frowned. “Why is that crazy?”

I gave him a look, forgetting that most people have no idea how hard it is. “Because it’s a long road, long hours, and nothing is guaranteed. People think being a chef is easy. They see Gordon Ramsey or Nigella Lawson and think it’s all fame and food and money and they have no idea what it’s really like. I’m not even out of school and already I feel half-beaten.”

He was still frowning. He did that a lot, I would soon learn. “Sounds like life to me.” His eyes dropped to my lips and something intensely carnal came over them, like suddenly I was the food, not the wannabe chef. “Did you want to get a drink somewhere. After this? When you’ve done your daughterly duties?”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what a drink meant. Just a drink? A date? Was it sex? I started going through my head, trying to think of reasons why it was a bad idea. My legs were shaved, did my bra and underwear match? Did I have a condom? I had taken the pill this morning, even though my last boyfriend and I had broken up months ago. I hadn’t been with a guy, let alone a man, in a long time.

Don’t flatter yourself, I quickly thought. What makes you think he’d be interested in you that way?

“Yes,” I said when I finally found my voice. “Yes, I would like that.”

A spark flashed in his eyes, lighting them up in such a way that made my toes literally curl. Damn. I was in trouble with this man. “Any way you can get out of your duties sooner?” he asked.

I couldn’t help but smile, raising my brow at his presumptuousness, while simultaneously trying to hide the fact that I was freaking out. I looked around the room and tried to judge how likely it was that someone would notice if I was gone. My mom was still surrounded by a wall of people and no one was paying any attention to us, standing by the windows, already removed.

A sad thought hit me, sliding past before I could really dwell on it: no one even notices when I’m here.

“If we’re quick and sneaky,” I told him.

“Being quick isn’t in my repertoire,” he said, “but I could give it a shot.”

Again. Damn. I wasn’t one to blush but I could feel my cheeks heating up and hoped my skin supressed the flush. He was so much older than me in so many ways, the last thing I wanted was to appear the naïve schoolgirl.

And I didn’t know what to say to that. He was staring at me with those dark eyes, a look so intense yet sparkling with charm and something…wicked.

I’d never find out how wicked they could be.

“Ronnie!” A melodic, ultra-feminine voice sliced through the moment like an unwieldy machete, causing me to flinch, my fingers tightening around the stem of the glass.

Oh no, I thought. Not now.

Logan’s head swiveled toward the sound of the voice, like a hound picking up a scent. I didn’t bother looking over, I kept my focus on him, watching his expression intently. It changed, as I knew it would.

She had walked into the room.

He saw her.

And like it was for so many men, that look of lust I had thought was for me, was now for her.

That’s when I knew it was over. Whatever thing I had felt for him, it didn’t matter anymore, not when she was in the room. Nothing ever mattered as long as she was around.

I might have saw him first.

But he was all hers after that.

 

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MY REVIEW

I can say with all honesty, there are an extremely few authors who produce books every single time that give me all the required elements of a good story.  Karina Halle is one of those authors.  She always provides her reader with extremely complex, complicated characters, settings with such clarity and detail that you feel you are there or you want to go there as soon as possible, plots that are intricate, and a secondary cast of characters who round out the story brilliantly.

Heat Wave has all of these elements and I couldn’t flip the pages fast enough.  To say that Logan and Veronica have a complicated past doesn’t quite do their story justice.  If you read the prologue, you know Logan and Veronica have a chance meeting in Chicago and the connection is instantaneous.  They both recognize a kinship in the other but fate and circumstances can be cruel and people make wrong choices all the time.

We flash forward a bit in time and we find that Veronica (Ronnie) is moving to Hawaii to start a new job as a chef at a hotel.  Sounds lovely, right?  Moving to paradise and getting paid for a job you love is everyone’s dream, right?  Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.  Logan is the owner of the hotel and these two haven’t had much interaction since the first encounter because….hold your breath for this one….Logan married Veronica’s sister, Juliet.  Yes, you feel the pain ooze off the page.  To make it even worse, Juliet has passed away and to say the sisters had a complicated relationship is only brushing over the surface.

There are so many secrets and lies between these two and Karina Halle takes you on an emotional ride as they fight for and against their connection.  Add in the beautiful setting of Kauai and you have an epic story unfold on the pages.  You can tell that Karina travels to the places she writes about because the detail is fantastic and it is easy to close your eyes and imagine yourself their with the characters.

The secondary characters are worth the read as well.  Somehow, Karina invests you in their lives and stories without taking away from the heart of the story between Logan and Veronica. You love some of them and you hate others and I think when an author elicits those emotions from a reader through secondary storylines, you have a true storyteller on your hands.

I keep waiting for Karina to disappoint me….she has a long list of books…but she never does.  She is a exemplary storyteller and I can never get enough of her work.  Don’t miss Heat Wave.  And while you are at it, dig into her backlist. You will not regret it.

 

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Karina Halle is a former travel writer and music journalist and The New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling author of The Pact, Racing the Sun, Sins & Needles and over 25 other wild and romantic reads. She lives on an island off the coast of British Columbia with her husband and her rescue pup, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of trails and devours a lot of books.

Halle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North America and in the UK.

Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com and sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing sales and more.

FACEBOOK TWITTER GOODREADS AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

 

Book Release and Review: Sweet Cheeks by K. Bromberg

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sweetcheeks_frontcoverAn all new second chance love story by the New York Times Bestselling author of the beloved Driven series.

It all started with the invitation. To my ex-fiance’s new wedding.

I should have ignored it. Thrown it away. Set it afire. But I didn’t. I replied.

With a plus one.

And then my assistant accidentally mailed it.

Enter Hayes Whitley. Mega-movie star. The man who has captured the hearts of millions. But I gave him mine years ago. He was my first love. He was my everything. Right until he up and left to chase his dreams without so much as a simple goodbye.

When he showed up out of the blue ten years later, I should have known to steer clear of him. I should have rejected his offer to take me to my ex’s wedding. I should have never let him kiss me.

But I didn’t.

And now we’re left wondering if the pieces of the life we once shared still fit together somehow. First loves are hard to forget. The question is, do we want to forget? Or do we risk the chance and see what happens next?

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My Review

I always enjoy second chance romances and Sweet Cheeks doesn’t disappoint.  Saylor has just ended her engagement to her long time boyfriend.  She has pretty much started her life over since her friends didn’t stick with the split.  She opened a bakery and is moving on.  Until the dreaded wedding invite from her ex-fiancee shows up and is basically a duplication of her defunct wedding.  I mean really…what is a girl going to do with that laying in her hand….yes, of course, RSVP yes and show up to show them she isn’t a train wreck indeed.

Problem is…Saylor doesn’t have a social/personal life and her bakery isn’t doing so well.  Enter Hayes Whitley, her brother’s best friend and her first love who broke her heart.  Hayes became the country’s leading heartthrob in Hollywood and broke Saylor’s heart when he left but he is just what she needs to show her ex, Mitch, just how well she is doing.

 

Will it work?  Will Saylor keep her heart in the vault around Hayes?  Will Hayes be able to win Saylor over?  She was his one and only regret.  Will these two find their own happiness?

Overall, this was a sweet and easy read from K. Bromberg.  Second chance romances always make me smile.

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iBooks | B&N | Amazon Paperback | Audible

 

 

 

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New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

She’s a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced, Aced), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat, and Down Shift), and a novella (UnRaveled). She is currently finishing up Sweet Cheeks a standalone novel out November 14th.

Her plans for 2017 include a sports romance duet (2 books: The Player, The Catch) and the Everyday Heroes series (3 books: Cuffed, Combust, and Cockpit). She’s also writing a novella for the 1,001 Dark Night series that will be out in February 2017.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon Author | Driven Group

 

Cover Reveal: Written in the Scars by Adriana Locke

 

 

Title: Written in the Scars
Author: Adriana Locke
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Kari March Designs
Photographer: Lauren Perry, Perrywinkle Photography
Cover Model: Ghent Scott
Release Date: October 20, 2016

 

Blurb

 

Falling in love is easy.Falling out of love is the hardest thing in the world.

And Elin and Ty Whitt are terrible at it.

The first time the local basketball star smiled at Elin, she was a goner. It was just so damn easy to fall for the dark-haired hometown hero with his charming smile and strong, athletic build.

Thousands of sleepy smiles, aimless drives down country roads, and squeaks of the backdoor after a swing shift later, reality hits. And it hits hard. Falling in love was definitely the easy part. Watching it break apart was impossible.

Through the tears, the second-guesses, the memories of a life built together, the world keeps spinning. With each turn comes clarity and hope—sometimes in the form of a pair of muddy boots by the back door or from the words of a wise friend.

When Ty shows back up with a new found determination to put his family back together, Elin’s torn between the fights of the past and the possibility of a new start. This is the man that holds her heart, the man she loves beyond anything else. But this is also the one person in the world that can cause her the most pain.

Life’s not always easy. Love’s not for the faint of heart. But with life comes lessons and Ty and Elin have the scars to prove it. But it’s their love written in those scars that will hold them together … or break them apart.

 

 

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Author Bio

 

USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.

She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather’s nice and there’s always a piece of candy in her pocket.

For sneak peeks, giveaways, and more, please join Adriana’s Facebook Group, Books by Adriana Locke, or her Goodreads group, All Locked Up.

 

Author Links

Book Review: Dirty Little Rendezvous by Emma Hart

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Sometimes the past becomes the present… And he’s hot, cocky, and British.

Leila Burke expected a lot of things when she joined her brothers on tour in Europe. He wasn’t one of them.

Jase Masters had no idea what to expect when he agreed to support Dirty B. on tour. She definitely wasn’t it.

It’s been eighteen months.

He remembers that night a little too well.

She insists she has no idea who he is.

He’s rugged and determined.

She’s wild and free.

Together, they’re a tornado.

Keeping it from touching down is the least of their worries.

Links:

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1PzBUqt

iBooks: http://apple.co/1PRNd9d

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EXCERPT

“Hey, Jase?” I look up and down the hall through my eyelashes.

“Yeah?”

My tongue runs over my bottom lip. “You could come in. If you wanted.”

He exhales loudly, running his hand through his hair. “Leila… You’ve been drinking. Whether you say you’re drunk or not, this is your tequila talking.”

“What if it isn’t?”

“How do I know you’re not just saying it?”

“Never mind.” My stomach sinks. “I can take a hint.”

“A hint? I’m a man, love. I don’t give or take hints.” He walks toward me. “But I also respect you and I’m not going to go into your room and fuck you because numerous shots of tequila are telling you it’s a good idea.”

“Don’t worry.” My cheeks burn with humiliation. I’m blaming this on the tequila. He’s so insistent it is, so fuck you, tequila. Fuck you.

“Leila.” He grabs my arm before I can disappear fully inside.

I slowly turn my face back to him. The bright hall lights collide with the darkness of my room, casting shadows across the angular planes of his face. His eyes blaze at me, a bright yet stormy green that shows his inner battle.

“Don’t think I’m not coming in with you because I don’t want to fuck you.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out quietly.

I swallow.

“I want to fuck you again. I want to follow you into this room and fuck you so hard everyone on this floor will know what we’re doing.”

“So do it,” I whisper. “I’m not drunk, Jase. I know exactly what I’m asking.”

“You’re supposed to be avoiding me.” He leans in so his mouth hovers just above mine. “Remember?”

“It didn’t work out.” My mouth gets dry as his breath fans across my lips.

“So, pursuing me is your new plan?”

“Well.” I pause to swallow again, although there’s nothing but the hesitant lump in my throat that won’t go down. “I figure it’s the more enjoyable option.”

His lips twitch up on one side, and he laughs quietly. “Leila, love…”

I grab the front of his shirt, gripping it tight, and pull him down to me at the same time that I push up onto my toes. Our lips collide somewhere between us, and he freezes. His fingers twitch around my arm, but he lets go.

I get it.

I step back from him, my heart thudding and pushing the previous twinge of humiliation around my body until it latches on to every cell and swamps me. My cheeks burn, and I can’t look up at him, so I move back into my room, throwing my book in the direction of the bed.

He grabs me.

Shoves me inside.

Pushes me back against the door so it slams shut.

And kisses me.

Desire blurs my embarrassment as Jase’s mouth descends onto mine and he kisses me as though he’s starving. I wind my hands into his hair as he runs one of his up my thigh. His fingers ease under my dress, coming dangerously close to the top of my leg, and I gasp as he lifts it and hooks it over his hip.

Fuck me, he’s hard.

His cock presses between my legs, against my throbbing clit, and the pressure from his jeans sends a bolt of uncontrollable desire firing through my bloodstream.

He groans, swiping his tongue across the seam of my mouth, and I open for him, sending my tongue to meet his. They battle when he kisses me deeply and grips my ass harder, lifting me up the door a little. My hips buck against him, and he nips my bottom lip when I whimper.

Then he brings one hand between my legs and runs his thumb over the soft cotton of my panties.

Right over my clit.

Right along my pussy.

Now, my gasp is loud, and I break the kiss to control my breathing. Jase smiles against my jaw as he kisses it. His mouth leaves trails of hot kisses along it and my neck, his tongue swirling on my pulse point, his teeth grazing down my skin to my shoulder.

And, the whole time, his fingers are working their way beneath my underwear.

The moment his rough thumb brushes my clit, his lips find mine again, and he swallows my moan.

Teaser1My Review

What to say…what to say…I adore Emma Hart….I adore the Burke brothers and Dirty B and I adore Leila Burke.  I have been patiently waiting for her story since we met her in Book 1.  Which by the way, if you haven’t read this series, do so immediately.  I mean who can say no to a Souther rock band made up of seriously smokin’ hot brothers who are a tad bit on the alpha side.  But enough about the guys we all love and on to their little sister Leila.

Leila is everything I love in a heroine.  She is strong, sassy, independent and not afraid to say what she thinks.  I loved her in the early days of Dirty B and I couldn’t wait to see exactly who would conquer her heart.  I knew it would be a hell of a ride and Emma never disappoints….never.

Jase Masters is just yum.  He is an upcoming rockstar, hot as can be and the cherry on the top of the cupcake: he is British.  Yep, you know you want a guy to talk to you and say things like arse, bollocks, bloody, and call you “love” over and over again.  These two met over a year ago while Leila was traveling through Europe and it was explosive. Fate has brought them together again.

Watching these two fall for each other was a true pleasure.  The chemistry was off the charts.  The banter between the two and between Leila and her brothers and friends was hilarious.  I turned the pages quicker and quicker because I just wanted to see my girl Leila happy.

When I reached the end, I was happy but also sad.  I can’t believe it is the end for the Burke family.  Their stories made for great entertainment and I just didn’t want to turn the last page and close the book.  Emma Hart, thanks for Dirty B.  Thanks for Leila and Jase.  You never fail to suck me in and keep me wanting more.  Go pick up this entire series, read them in order, relish and enjoy.  Leila and Jase make a hell of a nightcap for this series!  Hooray for Bucket List Love!

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Author Bio:aa466c_8447a043d81f44988cc3453827d789c6

By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

LINKS

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Twitter: https://twitter.com/EmmaHartAuthor

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6451162.Emma_Hart

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/Emma-Hart/e/B00A3QSV0M/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1410362990&sr=8-2-ent