What we have been reading!!

Monday, July 31, 2017



























Coming August 7th





























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On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.

But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?

It feels so good.


















1
Max

I wasn’t planning to see her naked—I swear to God, I wasn’t. The day was a scorcher, one of those godforsaken New England summer days that makes a guy wonder how he ever said fuck you to winter. I stood on the roof her house, three stories above the Maine woods, with a far-off view of the ocean. It was pretty, yeah, like the kind of shit real estate companies put on complimentary calendars. But in that heat, it was like standing on top of a goddamned toaster, turned all the way to burnt. I could feel that shit in my socks, straight through my work boots. At my feet was a stack of shake shingles, old school, to replace the ones that were missing. Her house had a few slow leaks, and one over her bathroom that made the ceiling look like a huge Rorschach test. She said it definitely looked like a rose in bloom, I said it definitely looked like Batman. But I told her hidden meanings wouldn’t make shit for difference when the ceiling collapsed into the tub, so there I was. Fucking miserable work, but I was glad to do it. Glad to do anything for her—anything she needed at all.
In the forest on every side around the cottage, the cicadas screeched. It sounded like a needle squeaking off a record player. I knelt down by the stack of shingles, using my utility knife to score a line through one to fit a nearby gap. I snapped it with my hands and tossed the scrap end off the edge of the roof. A trickle of sweat ran down my forehead, and I wiped my face with my forearm. One droplet got away, sparkling in the sun. It caught my eye, and I watched it fall, as it landed on the skylight window with a splat.
​And that was when it happened. Boom.
​There she was, right under me. She couldn’t have been more than six feet away, but she felt even closer. I had a direct line of sight down into her gorgeous, soft cleavage, bright and pure in the sunshine. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the surprise of seeing her, but at first I didn’t really process that it was Rosie at all. My dude brain said, I want that woman.
​Then my regular brain said, Don’t be an asshole, man. It’s Rosie. Have some respect.
Respect I definitely had, but of course I’d thought about seeing her naked before. She was so fucking beautiful that any man would have thought about it. Sometimes, like right then looking down into her dress, I couldn’t fucking help it. Sometimes we’d be out doing something ordinary, like eating dinner, or I’d be changing her oil, or she’d be teaching me to do shit I should have learned at some point in the last 34 years, like iron a dress shirt without screwing up the collar, and I’d catch myself watching her cleavage rise and fall as she breathed, or thinking how nice her legs were, and I’d think, Holy hell.
Now she was directly underneath the skylight. The angle of the sun cast my shadow down the roofline, away from the skylight, so I didn’t give myself away. Like that, I watched her. I gave in to my dude brain and just took her in. Her light brown hair glinted, and a beam of light caught the curve of her shoulder.
That was when the goddamned striptease started, beginning with the left strap of her sundress.
Her movements were graceful, sexy, sassy—the sway of her hips, the shake of her shoulders. I realized I might be in real fucking trouble, because I loved that sexy sass. It wasn’t normal Rosie-cute. It was naughty, like nothing I’d ever seen her do before. I liked it so much, I couldn’t look away. She shimmied out of her sundress, and it fell to the floor in a pool at her feet. No big deal, I tried to tell myself. I’d seen her in her bikini a thousand times. This was no different from that.
Except it was, because then she reached around to undo her bra. Before I could tell myself Don’t look, dude. It’s Rosie, don’t look, it was too fucking late. The straps slid down off her shoulders, and for one perfect second got caught on her nipples, swinging in the air before falling to the floor.
Holy…
I pressed my clenched fist to my mouth and groaned into my hand. All my blood was leaving my head. The roofline was getting wobbly.
It wasn’t like I didn’t know her curves; we’d spent whole summers on the beach—I knew her shape and her softness, I knew her lines and her freckles. Every curve of Rosie Madden was sacred in my book. Fucking douchebags on the beach giving her eyes had to answer to me and my eyes, right behind her. She did that to me—I was one punch away from defending her honor, always. But this? This was different. Seeing your best friend in a bikini at a clam bake is one thing. Protecting your best friend from assholes with wandering eyes is part of the guy-girl best friend creed. But seeing your best friend, absolutely naked in her bedroom, without knowing she can see you? That was a different deal.
…Shit.
Part of me knew I should keep my eyes off of her. She thought she was in private, I had no business spying. Anyway, I didn’t want to be that guy. I hated that guy. But the other part of me, fuck. The other part of me was nothing but want.
Then she bent at the hips, and time slowed down, like some kind of stop-motion Jackie Chan kung fu sequence. All the cicadas went silent, at least in my head they did. The wind stopped blowing through the trees. It was just her, and her perfection, in the sunshine underneath me. I felt like I was on one of those glass-bottomed boats, looking at a world I never knew existed.
She tossed her bra aside, and it landed on her neatly made bed. She shimmied out of her panties, shaking her ass as she did. I growled into my fist, and that’s when I went down into a crouch.
Because as she shimmied I saw it in a V above her ass. My kryptonite. A skimpy thong.
All these years, all these decades, I’d had her pegged for cute cotton panties—pastel polka dots, thin stripes, shit that was sweet and sensible. But I was so fucking wrong. Black. Strappy. Tiny. Not sensible at all. Now it was in a rolled-up ball at her ankles. Using her toes, she plucked her panties from the floor, and caught them on one finger.
Fucking A.
She was completely naked, not a thread on her. Every thought I’d ever had got sucked out of my brain, like dishwater down the sink drain. What was left was only one true thing, and it wasn’t about her ass, or her skin, or her breasts. It was the one thing I think I’d always known but never let myself feel. Until that moment.
She is the most beautiful woman in the world.
Part of the reason I thought that was, yeah, obviously, she was fucking stunning, every inch of her straight out of a dream. Not just my dream, either. Guys would slow down on Main Street to give her the elevator stare, and I’d quietly crack my knuckles and give them don’t-you-fucking-dare stares. But the other part, the part that wasn’t in my gut but that was in my heart, was that I fucking adored her. Adored her so hard it hurt.
She crouched down to pick up her dress, lifting the delicate straps with her small, sweet fingers. She pivoted, so I had a view of her other side of her body for the first time. There it was.
The tattoo.
I groaned again. I wasn’t prepared for this shit; three stories up, that body was dangerous. It was a rose tattoo, snaking around her hip, on the milk-white skin that was always under her bikini bottoms. The part of her I’d never seen. It was serious ink, real art, not some namby-pamby temporary tattoo or some amateur shit she might’ve gotten in an hour at a tattoo parlor on a dare on a cruise to Puerto Rico. It was complicated, detailed, and artful. Multiple visits to some tattoo artist, touching that creamy skin—goddamn.
It took every fucking ounce of strength I had, but I did manage to look away. I felt as disoriented as if I’d been sucker punched. Not cotton—lace. Not cute—hot. Not my friend—my fucking fantasy.
She was so important to me, such an integral part of my world, that I’d never let myself think of her as more than what she was. She was like running water, or electricity, or the sunshine itself. She was one of those things that was perfect exactly as it was, and one of those things only an idiot would want to change. I never looked at her and thought, I wish I could have more of her than I do already. That would be like thinking, I wish I could turn that cold glass of water into a swimming pool. Or, I wish electricity came through the air. Fuck that noise. Perfect things are perfect things, and Rosie Madden was a perfect goddamned thing, from the tips of her toes to the freckles on her nose. And that rose, holy fuck, that rose.
I was strong, but not that strong, and I let my eyes move down again. She’d disappeared from view, mostly, except for the edge of her ass. I watched her rifle through her closet, and a few dresses fluttered onto her bed. On her bedside table, I caught a glimpse of the picture she always kept there, of the two of us together. The memories flew back at me like a runaway train. The first time I’d ever seen her was the day my parents and I moved to Truelove, at the start of middle school. The first time I ever saw her, she was volunteering at the community gardens. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and I thought she’d looked super badass. I’d helped her dig up carrots and had been too fucking tongue-tied to say a goddamned word.
That’s how I felt, all over again times a thousand.
I’d never made a move. She’d cried on my shoulder through a line of guys who were never good enough for her. Jocks and pricks and a brief and seriously unfortunate stint with a guy who was a drummer for a reggae band who I hated so much it made me grind my teeth. But I never said shit about it. She was perfect even when she made mistakes. Tips of her toes. Freckles on her nose.
Never mind that rose. Like Banksy took on a temple.
One more time, I glanced down. Now she was sitting on her bed, and I saw that dark V shadow between her thighs. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I watched her put on a pair of red panties. Equally skimpy, equally not-sensible, equally ball-busting. They were only tragic because they hid the parts of her I’d never seen before.
Christ. All. Mighty.
As the world started to spin, I realized fixing the shingles could wait. I’d been working on old houses long enough to know that if you found yourself on a dangerously sloping roof and felt like you might be less than 100% on the ball, you needed to reconsider your game plan. I needed to get my shit together—that body had me totally fucking derailed. So I made my way down the roof, basically bouldering down backward. I focused on my grip, and my steps, like a climber coming down from Everest without enough oxygen. When I got to the gutter, I worked my way around the corner, standing on the eave, and hooked my leg over my ladder, making sure to put one foot after another and keep a tight grip on every rung.
When I stepped off the ladder, I grabbed a bottle of water that she’d left for me and filled up my palm and then splashed my face. My sweat stung my eyes through the droplets of water, and I rubbed away the tears. I heard the hinges on the screen door creak. “All done?” she asked.
I opened my eyes. They stung like hell, but I didn’t give a fuck. There she was, in a dress I’d seen before. Striped and sweet. But now I knew the secret. There were red panties under there. Red. Cherry red. My eyes fell on that part of her hip that I knew was inked.
“Max?”
I managed somehow to snap out of it. “Sorry. Getting there. Spotted something weird with the skylight.”
Rosie cocked her head. “Were you up there? Above my room?”
Awesome, dude. Smooth. “Just noticed it out of the corner of my eye.”
“I don’t like you being on the roof.” She pursed her lips. “Too steep. Promise you’ll get some ropes up there or something? Promise?” She reached out and put her hand to my arm, her fingers with their short pink nails pressing into my tanned skin. I had a quick but totally unavoidable image of her gripping my forearm in a very different situation. I want that. So fucking...
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
When I didn’t answer—I knew that if I opened my mouth the first words out would be You. Me. Right Now.—she looked up at the roof and squinted into the sun. She peered suspiciously up at me and shifted her nose, kind of like a bunny. Adorable. She wasn’t very tall, so whenever she looked at me she had to lift her chin, which used to be cute. But now looked…like everything I’d ever wanted. “Have you had too much sun?”
​I was vaguely aware that she’d said some words, but I wasn’t hearing them because I realized that I couldn’t see her bra straps, so that had to mean she was she was wearing a strapless…
Knock. That. Shit. Off. “I’m good.”
“Mmm.” She nodded and furrowed her delicate eyebrows, which had never looked so pretty as they did at that moment. I didn’t even know eyebrows could be pretty. They’re eyebrows, for fuck’s sake. But suddenly I felt like for the last ten years, I’d been looking at her through a standard definition television, with a shitty cable connection. Now someone had handed me an HDMI cable, and she was in 1080 dots per inch. Christ.
“Lemme make you a sandwich. You’re acting strange.”
Rather than answer her, I dumped the remaining half a bottle of water over my head, like Andre Agassi used to do between break points at the French Open.
“Ham? Or turkey? I’ve got both. Or chicken salad!” She clapped her hands together, compressing her cleavage. “Do you want a pickle?”
She means an actual pickle, you fuckwit. “Surprise me,” I told her, and dragged my eyes off the curve of her cleavage. I grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt and pressed it to my eyes. I had to get out of there. I needed a cold shower, or a call from my tax guy, or an unexpectedly urgent trip to the DMV—anything to stop myself seeing her stark naked every goddamned time I looked at her. Anything to get my mind off that ink.
As I wiped my face, she cleared her throat, and I dropped my shirt. “What?”
She pressed her lips together and rocked back on her sandals. “Nothing!”
I followed her eyes and glanced down at my fly, but the stallion was still in the barn. “Come on,” I said, finding myself smiling right along with her. “What are you looking at?”
“Just…” She swallowed hard. “Looking good there, champ.” She glanced at my stomach, where I’d shown her my bare abs. She made a fist and gave me a mock punch, soft and sweet. “That P90X is working great for you.”
Here we go again with the fitness videos. For everything else she was—beautiful, smart, funny—she was also a fucking ball-buster sometimes. She’d worked up this whole narrative that I spent my nights with Tony Horton on my houseboat, getting cut and doing reps while I drank protein shakes with a straw straight from the blender. It was her only explanation for why I didn’t have a girlfriend. P90X it had to be, she’d said. Or maybe, she’d whispered like a co-conspirator, “Jazzercise.” Now, though, I had a better idea than ever about why I was so picky: not a single woman held a candle to her. I’d been fucking blind to it, but now the mist had burned right off. “I’ve never even seen the opening sequence. Never have. Never will.”
“They’re streaming now!”
​“Christ.”
Rosie snorted and made a long wheeeeee. “Sure. Surrrrrrre,” she said, stifling her giggle. “One ham-and-turkey, coming right up.” She spun on her sandals and disappeared into the house. Hips swinging. Red panties invisible, but not to me.
Not anymore.













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Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.


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Friday, July 28, 2017

JUST ONE CHANCE by CA Harms
Oh Tequila #1, Standalone
Releasing August 15th from Limitless Publishing!

Tequila, you failed me.

You left me in a terrible haze, and I can’t find my god damn wallet.

Or my left shoe.

How the hell does one lose their shoe?

I have no f*cking clue.

All I know is that my night started out with one thing in mind…to have a little fun.

The problem with that? I can’t remember a damn thing, except one.

Morgan’s soft and needy moans. It’s a sound I will never forget, just thinking about it makes my heart race and my pulse quicken. And I want to hear it over and over again…I craved it.

But Morgan’s a mystery. The harder I try the more she resists. There’s one thing she doesn’t know about me though…I’m not one to give up.

I’ll play her game, I’ll let her think she’s won. But in the end, I will have her.

Because all I need is Just One Chance to prove she’s meant for me…

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“It’s okay,” I assured him and his features hardened. “I understand.” 

“Are you done?” he asked. 

“It doesn’t have to be a problem.” I was just glad I figured it out now prior to my heart 

getting in the way of things. It was a good thing to know now before things went any further than they already had between us. 

“A problem,” he repeated, closing his eyes for a minute. “The only problem we have here is you.” I flinched at his words. 

“Me?” I asked feeling slightly irritated. 

“Yeah,” he said opening his eyes, looking directly into mine. “You keep looking for a way to prove this thing between us won’t work out. You’re just waiting for the moment you can say ‘I fucking told you so.’ But I got news for you, Morgan.” He lifted his hands and curled his fingers with mine. “That moment isn't coming.” 

He closed the last amount of distance between us, pressing his lips to mine, as he slowly lifted my hands above my head. Pinning me to the door, using his body to press tightly to mine, he conquered my mouth leaving me breathless. 

“I’m in this with you because I want to be, not because I feel like I have to be,” he whispered as he kissed along my jaw. “Stop pushing me away, stop fighting it.” 

In a slow torturous pace, he kissed along my jaw and down the side of my neck. 

There was really no point in fighting for control because at that moment Xavier had it. He knew just how to manipulate my body to react to his touch, to his kiss. Within seconds I was ready to let go of all my reservations and let him do whatever he wanted. 

He was right, why fight it? Challenging the connection between us was exhausting. 

I bit at his lower lip as he began to pull away, triggering a moan from between his lips. 

“I think it’s time you accept it,” he said, skimming the side of my nose with his own. “You 

want me, I want you, there’s really nothing more that matters than that.” 

He was a cocky asshole who was completely right. 

“Show me how much you want me,” I challenged him and I could see his eyes fill with lust. 

The way he pushed his hips forward, grinding his erection against me. “No,” I whispered, “show me.”


C.A. Harms is like any other addicted reader. She enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories. She hasn't always been a lover of Romance and had once been addicted to a good Mystery. Just recently she has taken on a new liking and now is a full blown Romance novel addict.

She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. You will always find her with her kindle or paperback in hand as it is her favorite pass time.



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The Brightest Sunset (The Darkest Sunrise, #2)The Brightest Sunset by Aly Martinez
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

5 Love Can Grow In The Darkness Stars!!!
Reviewed by Franci Neill


By now, you've read The Darkest Sunrise and you know what's happened and the bomb that was dropped on us at the very end of that book. If you were like me, you sat there in literal shock thinking what do they do now?

There were so many emotions I felt as I read this book. Even more than TDS because of the heart and soul stirring events that we go through. There's an especially tough scene that nearly broke me when when Porter cries out for Charlotte....
"Charlotte, please! I need it to stop!"
My heart was beating almost out of my chest at this point. I was so infuriated with so many people because I wondered how in the world could they even question the veracity of what he was saying? I mean this is Porter for goodness sake. He's never done anything to give any doubt as to what he's saying. And when Charlotte finally hears him and trusts what he's saying and remembers what he is to her...
"It was a night I'd never forget because it was the first time I'd ever given myself to someone else. Not physically, though that had happened too. But emotionally. I'd offered him my deepest, darkest secrets. And he'd taken them, devoured them, and made them his own. He'd made the darkness a beautiful place filled with understanding and acceptance. Porter was like that. Everything was easier with him."
I literally did a fist pump when Charlotte thought this because I knew that together, these two could face anything thrown in their path. And trust me, there is the quite the uphill battle they have to climb to get to their HEA....


A love like there's won't be found again. However, there are some people in their lives that aren't making it easy for them. People that you would think would want the best for everyone. But you know how it is when emotions get involved and the heart speaks before common sense kicks in. Let's not forget there are some innocent lives involved that could irrevocably be damaged. Most significantly, is Charlotte letting Porter into her heart even with everyone questioning her about it....


As this beautifully told emotion evoking story unfolds before our eyes we get to experience a love story that is greater than our H/h ever hoped to experience in their lifetime, families that, if they listen to their heart and not their head could become one beautiful family and along the way, there are some laugh out loud moments thanks to a life-size cutout, heart-stopping moments that had me gasping for air, and ultimately the consideration of what's best for one person that trumps everyone else in this story.

I think Porter says it best when he acknowledges what Charlotte is in his life...


Do yourself a favor and find your way to this beautifully written Duet that will forever change your life once Charlotte and Porter infiltrate your soul the same way they did mine.

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The Doctor's Secret Son (Mills & Boon Medical)The Doctor's Secret Son by Janice Lynn
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

So I happened to pick this book up simply from the blurb. I was not sure what to expect. But I have to say, it was the perfect book at the perfect time in my life. I am so glad that I took the chance on this one.

Janice Lynn drew me in with Dr. Trace Stevens & Chrissie Tombelain.

Trace & Chrissie share a past that leads to Chrissie getting pregnant. Oh, and did I mention that Trace knows nothing about this…. Four years later they see each other again. Their chemistry hasn’t diminished at all. Trace is determined to make it work with Chrissie. Little did he know that she was raising their son all alone. Needless to say, that does not go over too well. Will they be able to be a family and make it work?!?!

What I loved about this book was that it was well written. The characters caught my attention from the first page and held it throughout the entire book. I was rooting for all of them to make it work!

“You don’t have to seduce me to convince me to say yes. I’m yours for the taking.”
~ Janice Lynn, The Doctor’s Secret Son (Mills & Boon Medical)

There was one point in this book where I was really wanting to beat Trace down. But I understand why it needed to happen. It was hard to read. But I am so glad that Janice Lynn wrote this part in. It showed the growth between these characters that needed to happen in order for all three of them (Trace, Chrissie & Joss their son) to get their HE.

“If I left you and Joss, I would be giving up things I love.”
~ Janice Lynn, The Doctor’s Secret Son (Mills & Boon Medical)

If you are looking for a fun read, I would recommend this one. It completely surprised me. It left me wanting more from Janice Lynn. She is an author that I will be exploring in the near future.

~ Review written by Heidi Pharo


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We are excited to bring you the sexy cover for LUST, book two in New York Times bestselling author Emma Hart's standalone Vegas Nights Series!

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LUST2New York Times bestselling author, Emma Hart, brings together two polar-opposite single parents in the second book in the sinfully sexy Vegas Nights series.

Detective Adrian Potter had a lot to answer for. I didn’t care that he was tasked with shutting down the city’s most prolific hookers.

I cared that he was stopping me from providing for my daughter.

He didn’t care. Not at all. Until I broke down in the backseat of his car… And he let me go.

Adrian was a single parent, too. He knew how hard I had it. At least, he thought he did. He had a job. He had people who cared. He didn’t know just how lucky he was.

My name is Perrie Fox. I was a whore of the highest value.

Until Detective Adrian Potter.

Until the tattooed, redemption-seeking detective entered my life, looking for his fairytale.

The cop and the hooker.

Happily ever fucking never.

You’ve met one Fox sibling. Now meet the other…

(LUST is book two of the Vegas Nights series. While it is a standalone, the time frame does overlap with scenes in the previous book, SIN. You can, however, read LUST without reading SIN.)

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  emma 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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Hard Stick (Breakaway, #1)Hard Stick by L.P. Dover
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

So I have to be honest, I have never read an L.P. Dover book except her Society X series that she co-wrote with Heidi McLaughlin, so when I had a chance to read my first book from her, I had to take the chance. I am so glad that I did!!! I loved this book! In fact, I have even read Blocked (Breakaway #2). WoW!!!! I am loving this entire series.
* My review for Blocked is on its way…

Hard Stick is the first book in the Breakaway series. We are introduced to the players of the hockey team, the Charlotte Strikers. They are a fun bunch! And as the series plays out, I fell in love with all of them.

In Hard Stick we meet Kristen Robinson & Kellen Carter. Kristen has a past that she is running from. While she is trying to rebuild her world, she meets Kellan Carter. Kellen is relentless with his pursuit of Kristen. He is determined to show Kristen that he is not the cocky jock that she thinks that he is. Kristen gives in and gives Kellen one night.

“You say this is our only night, but you’re fooling yourself. I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed that kiss.”
~ L.P. Dover, Hard Stick (Breakaway #1)

One night was not enough….

Kellan beings Kristen back to life!

“Being on the ice is like breathing; we can’t live without it.”
~ L.P. Dover, Hard Stick (Breakaway #1)

Finally Kristen’s past comes back to haunt her…. I totally saw it coming, but it was so worth reading to see how it all played it out.

Hard Stick was the perfect balance of romance with a bit of suspense. It was the perfect start to this series. I loved it! It was also the perfect introduction to L.P. Dover’s writing. What have I been missing?!?! I now need to dive into all of her other books! There are so many that I am not even sure where to start. But I am looking forward to more!

L.P. Dover, thank you for allowing me to read and review Hard Stick! I am excited that I finally took the plunge. You have a fan for life!

#Ten #Buttercup

~ Review by Heidi Pharo


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Stay Close (For You, #1)Stay Close by Alexa Riley
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

In 2016 I read Everything for Her and I was totally hooked with Alexa Riley’s writing! I then read His Alone. WoW!!! I was hooked. Of course I then had to read Stay Close. But to be honest, this one did not blow me away at all. I know! What was I thinking?!?!

So I’ll break it down for you….

Stay Close piggy backs off of the For Her series. It focuses Ryan & Paige Justice’s daughter, Penelope! Who doesn’t want to read the next generation of characters that you loved. I think that I may have had my hopes a bit too high. I did not love this book at all. I liked, not loved.

In Stay Close, Ryan and Paige put a security detail on their daughters. Penelope falls in love with her security detail, Ivan. There is an instant connection between the two of them.

“I’ve been hired to protect her. But as I push away from the bar and walk towards her, I can’t help but think that perhaps someone should have protected her from me.”
~ Alexa Riley, Stay Close (For You #1)

I didn’t have the problem with the insta love. It was the writing and the characters that I did not connect with this time. The book felt rushed and overall not as good as the other books in the For Her series. That being said, I am not giving up this series! I am going to just wait to see how this series plays out.

“If you want me, krasotu, I will forever be yours.”
~ Alexa Riley, Stay Close (For You #1)

I know that Alexa Riley will not let me down! I have faith that they will pull out all the stops with their next book in both the For You and the For Her series. I am looking forward to see how this all plays out. I will not give up!

Thank you ladies for allowing me to read and review Stay Close. The cover for Claimed (For Her #3) looks amazing! I am so looking forward to March 2018! And I want more from the next generation!

#Krasotu #PotseluyMenya #HeNeedsYou #SweetFlower #ICryForYou #MotherAngel

~ Review by Heidi Pharo


View all my reviews

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Today we are sharing the release for The Brightest Sunset by Aly Martinez. This is the conclusion of a must-read contemporary romance duet, and is it available to read for FREE on KindleUnlimited!

Be sure to follow Aly's newsletter for exclusive news about the duet.

   

The Brightest Sunset (The Darkest Sunrise Duet, #2)

Purchase it Now

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

Synopsis:

 

Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.

Bullshit.

Words destroyed me.

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it.”

“Daddy, he can’t breathe!”

“There’s nothing more we can do for your son.”

Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.

Lies.

Those syllables and letters became my executioner. I told myself that, if I didn’t acknowledge the pain and the fear, they would have no power over me. But, as the years passed, the hate and the anger left behind began to control me.

Two words—that was all it took to plunge my life into darkness.

“He’s gone.”

In the end, it was four soft, silky words that gave me hope of another sunrise.

“Hi. I’m Charlotte Mills.”

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The Darkest Sunrise (The Darkest Sunrise Duet, #1)

Buy it Now

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

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You won't want to miss this amazing series!

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AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Originally from Savannah, Georgia, USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez now lives in South Carolina with her four young children. Never one to take herself too seriously, she enjoys cheap wine, mystery leggings, and baked feta. It should be known, however, that she hates pizza and ice cream, almost as much as writing her bio in the third person. She passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a super-sized tumbler of wine by her side.    

AUTHOR LINKS:

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Big Shot - Release
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Big Shot - About book 

BIG SHOT_Amazon 

To believe one person can change your destiny sounds absurd. But it happened to me… twice.

 Ten years ago I had no idea what I wanted out of life, until I met Hannah Michaels. She was a computer-engineering student ready to conquer the social media world, and I was smitten. Even though I knew she was taken, I had to have her.

 Being the big shot that I was, I didn’t let her status stand in my way. It wasn’t long before my hands were on her thighs and my name a whisper on her lips. This smart, sexy girl inspired me to greatness, helped me grow into the kind of man I never knew I wanted to be. The man I am today.  

Too bad I hadn’t grown fast enough to keep her.  

Moving on wasn’t easy, but I knew I had to let her go. Eventually, I found someone to share my days and nights with, and together we had a daughter. My life was nearly perfect until my world turned upside down.

  A single father has challenges, and one of those is learning how to calmly deal with your child coming home in tears. I had no idea the day I pounded on my daughter’s classmate’s door, Hannah would be the one standing on the other side.

 The wild, burning desire that rushed through my veins was unwanted, and yet impossible to ignore. Letting her in meant so much more this time around. Guilt hit me like a hammer. I hated myself. I hated her. The problem was I really didn’t hate her—I wanted her more than ever.  

But this time around, I can’t have her.  

This time it’s my status that stands in our way—and going up against myself just might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
 
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RELEASE DAY 1 Big Shot Kim Karr Teaser 1 

JULY 18 Big Shot Kim Karr Teaser 3

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Big Shot - Giveaway

Click HERE to enter the Release Day Giveaway from Author Kim Karr!

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Big Shot - About author 

Kim Karr is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author.

She grew up in Rochester, NY and now lives in Florida with her husband and four kids. She's always had a love for reading books and writing. Being an English major in college, she wanted to teach at the college level but that was not to be. She went on to receive an MBA and became a project manager until quitting to raise her family. Kim currently works part-time with her husband and recently decided to embrace one of her biggest passions--writing.

Kim wears a lot of hats! Writer, book-lover, wife, soccer-mom, taxi driver, and the all around go-to person of her family. However, she always finds time to read. One of her favorite family outings was taking her kids when they were little to the bookstore or the library. Today, Kim's oldest child is seventeen and no longer goes with her on these, now rare and infrequent, outings. She finds that she doesn't need to go on them anymore because she has the greatest device ever invented--a Kindle.

Kim likes to believe in soul mates, kindred spirits, true friends, and Happily-Ever-Afters. She loves to drink champagne, listen to music, and hopes to always stay young at heart.

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