Monday, August 24, 2015

Breathe Me by: Jeri Williams

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Summary:

You know how you hear those stories about once abused kids growing up and overcoming the difficult life they have been dealt and becoming majorly successful like FBI agents or lawyers or something cool like that and never having any lingering problems?

Well this isn't one of those stories.
I used to know how my life as going to be, how I was going to live out my lifeless days, unloved and fearful. Hopeless to the possibility that life, my life could be anything better than what it is now. I knew that I would either give up, or give in, either one would eventually being the end of me and I didn't think that was so bad. I would no longer be constantly reminded that I was shit, and would be shit no matter how hard I tried in life. I thought it was all easier to just slip away.

But that was before....


Book Title: Breathe Me (A Me Novel)

Author: Jeri Williams

Genre: Contemporary

Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Review 

Harley is your typical pathetic 20 something romance novel heroine who is emotionally and physically abused by her mother. Her only interests include staying out of her mother's way and her job at a local book store where she meets Deklan, a womanizing man-slut. Deklan is home to visit his dying mother, but to do so he must face his abusive father and a complicated past with his younger brother. By distracting himself with women and sex, he finds Harley, a rumored harlot, intriguing as he tests her clear innocence. 

As the two become closer, we find they are not all that different from one another. 

"Breathe Me" is an easy and fast read. Filled with heart thundering and body flushing imagery, Deklan's filthy mind and shocking dirty talk bring its entertainment level to its highest. As a hero, Deklan is the ultimate bad boy who is forever changed by love. 

As for Harley, she had no plot twisting characteristic to bring any impact to the story. The author strongly illustrates the fear, innocence and naivety, but she never becomes anything more than a victim. Harley is beaten almost daily and keeps everyone at a distance, but her character never changes. And why would she? Her character was never written with any passion to drive her otherwise. There is one particular scene depicting Harley's predilection to reading, but again it lacks the passion for change!  

As Harley and Deklan's relationship develop, it is only fitting that it devours her character since she has no individuality or spark. Having no real thoughts or goals for Harley's character brought the book to a one dimensional halt. Her character just needed more!

This book was entertaining for its sexual and steamy content, but for substance it fell flat. 

-JL
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Excerpt:

His breathing.

My heart.

His breathing.

My heart.

I tried to step back again, and found myself up against the side of the building, the coldness of it hitting my back. Dammit!

"Harley," he moved his thumb and caressed my bottom lip. His eyes fell to my mouth and he licked his lips, and that was it. I got goose bumps all over, as I flattened my back against the wall I looked into his eyes, now a gun metal color and watched as he searched my face. He shouldn't be allowed to look at a woman like this.

"What are you hiding?" Those words caused my slamming heart to stop. How could he know I was hiding, when not even Ember knew? I was trying to tell myself he didn’t, it was just a ploy for someone like him to get what he wanted. But deep down, I knew he knew.

"I...I...I don't know what..."

He took a deep breath and closed the already small gap between our bodies. I put my hands up to stop him, and came into contact with his rock hard abdomen. Shit, those couldn’t be real. I wanted to move my hand further and feel what I knew would be a six pack, if not eight. That was the wrong thing to touch if I wanted to stop him.

"Just a taste..." His grip on my face tightened slightly as he pulled me toward his lips, the heat coming off him felt amazing, it instantly made my vaginal walls tighten and moister to dampen my panties. I had been waiting 23 years for this kiss, to feel lips on mine. I moved my hands to his side and gripped the sides of his shirt blazingly pulling him closer, I wanted this, I didn’t care that he was a stranger, a customer and that I didn’t even know his name. I. Was. Ready.

He must have taken my actions as a go-ahead and he slowly leaned down bringing our mouths closer. I closed my eyes because that’s what they did in all my books and waited for his lips to touch mine.

"Harley, is that you?" A voice I knew and hated right now called out.

Seriously?! Great fucking timing Ember. I heard him make the sexiest noise I have ever heard as he braced his hand against the wall and leaned down, his lips brushing my ear.

“I smell you. Fuck, you smell amazing.” His voice came out leathery.

If I wasn’t leaning against a wall, I would have fainted epically right there. I was one hundred and thirty-five percent sure he wasn’t talking about my deodorant and it made my panties moisten more.

About the Author:

JeriJeri Williams lives a super fabulous lifestyle (by fabulous, she mean’s kinda lame) in the hot Florida sun and loves reading of any kind (except instruction manuals and cereal boxes). She has always written stories and made her family listen to them since she was young, although this is her first book she has ever published. She is a mom of an up-and-coming Jerry Seinfeld (in girl form) and also enjoys being right and knowing everything, although she is hardly ever right and really doesn't know anything and is obsessed with inventing miniature zoo animals you can carry around in your pocket (although not really).





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Also by Jeri Williams:

Jeri Williams Duo

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Monday, August 17, 2015




From the USA TODAY
bestselling author of Sweet Thing and Nowhere But Here comes a love story about a Craigslist “missed connection” post that gives two people a second chance at love fifteen years after they were separated in New York City.

To the Green-eyed Lovebird:
We met fifteen years ago, almost to the day, when I moved my stuff into the NYU dorm room next to yours at Senior House.

You called us fast friends. I like to think it was more.

We lived on nothing but the excitement of finding ourselves through music (you were obsessed with Jeff Buckley), photography (I couldn’t stop taking pictures of you), hanging out in Washington Square Park, and all the weird things we did to make money. I learned more about myself that year than any other.

Yet, somehow, it all fell apart. We lost touch the summer after graduation when I went to South America to work for National Geographic. When I came back, you were gone. A part of me still wonders if I pushed you too hard after the wedding…

I didn’t see you again until a month ago. It was a Wednesday. You were rocking back on your heels, balancing on that thick yellow line that runs along the subway platform, waiting for the F train. I didn’t know it was you until it was too late, and then you were gone. Again. You said
my name; I saw it on your lips. I tried to will the train to stop, just so I could say hello.

After seeing you, all of the youthful feelings and memories came flooding back to me, and now I’ve spent the better part of a month wondering what your life is like. I might be totally out of my mind, but would you like to get a drink with me and catch up on the last decade and a half?

M









2. Five Days After I Saw You

MATT

I took the damn F train, an hour-long ride to Brooklyn from Midtown and back every day, at lunch, hoping I would run into Grace again, but I never did.

Things were bad at work. I had submitted a request to go into the field three months earlier but had been denied. Now I had to watch Elizabeth and Brad walk around in bliss as people congratulated them on the baby and Brad's promotion, which came right after the announcement.

Meanwhile, I was still rejecting any forward motion in my life. I was a stagnant puddle of shit. I had volunteered to go back on location to South America with a National Geographic film crew. New York just wasn't the same anymore. It held no magic for me. The Amazonian jungle, with all of its wonderful and exotic diseases, seemed more appealing than taking orders from my ex-wife and her smug husband. But my request hadn't been approved or denied. It just sat in a pile of other requests on Scott's desk.

I pondered the current state of my life while I stared at a blank wall in the office break room. Standing next to the water cooler, holding a half-empty paper cone, I tallied the insubstantial years I had spent with Elizabeth and wondered why. How had things gone so terribly wrong?

"What are you doin', man?" Scott's voice came from the doorway.

I turned and smiled. "Just thinking."

''You seem a little brighter."

"Actually, I was thinking about how I ended up thirty­six, divorced, and trapped in cubicle hell."

He walked to the coffeepot and poured a mug full then leaned against the counter. "You were a workaholic?" he offered.

"That's not why Elizabeth was unfaithful. She fell right into Brad's skinny arms, and he works more than I do. Hell, Elizabeth works more than I do."

"Why are you dwelling on the past? Look at you. You're tall. You have hair. And it looks like"—he waved his hand around at my stomach—"you might have abs?"

''You checking me out?"

''I'd kill for a head of hair like that."

Scott was the kind of guy who was bald by twenty-two. He's been shaving it Mr. Clean-style since then.

"What do women call that thing?" He pointed to the back of my head.

"A bun?"

"No, there's, like, a sexier name for it. The ladies love that shit."

"They call it a man-bun."

He studied me. "Jesus, you're a free man, Matt. Why aren't you prowling the savannahs for new game? I can't watch you mope around like this. I thought you were over Elizabeth?"

I shut the break-room door. "I am. I was over Elizabeth a long time ago. It's hard for me even to remember being into her. I got caught up in the fantasy of it, traveling with her, taking photos. Something was always missing, though. Maybe I did work too much. I mean, that's all we talked about, that's all we had in common. Now look where I am."

"What about Subway Girl?"

"What about her?"

"I don't know. I thought you were gonna try to get in touch with her?"

"Yeah. Maybe. Easier said than done."

"You just have to put yourself out there. Get on social media."

Will I find Grace there? I went back and forth between wanting to do everything I could to find her and feeling like it was totally pointless. She'd be with someone. She'd be someone's wife. Someone better than me. I wanted to get away from everything reminding me that I still had nothing.

"If you care so much, why haven't you approved my request?" I asked.

He scowled. I noticed how deep the line was between his eyebrows and it occurred to me that Scott and I were the same age...and he was getting old. "I don't mean the actual savannahs, man. Running away isn't going to solve your problems."

"Now you're my shrink?"

"No, I'm your friend. Remember when you asked for that desk job?"

I walked toward the door. "Just consider it. Please, Scott."

Right before I left the room he said, "You're chasing the wrong thing. It's not gonna make you happy."

He was right, and I could admit that to myself, but not out loud. I thought if I could win an award again, get some recognition for my work, it would fill the black hole eating away at me. But deep down, I knew that wasn't the solution.

After work, I sat on a bus bench just outside the National Geographic building. I watched hordes of people trying to get home, racing down the crowded sidewalks of Midtown. I wondered if I could judge how lonely a person was based on how much of a hurry he or she was in. No one who has someone waiting for him at home would sit on a bus bench after a ten-hour workday and people-watch. I always carried an old Pentax camera from my college
days in my messenger bag, but I hadn't used it in years.

I removed it from the case and starting clicking away as people flooded in and out of the subway, as they waited for buses, as they hailed cabs. I hoped that through the lens I would see her again, like I had years before. Her vibrant spirit; the way she could color a black-and-white
photo with her magnetism alone. I had thought about Grace often over the years. Something as simple as a smell, like sugared pancakes at night, or the sound of a cello in Grand Central or Washington Square Park on a warm day, could transport me right back to that year in college. The year I spent falling in love with her.

It was hard for me to see the beauty in New York anymore. Granted, much of the riffraff and grit was gone, at least in the East Village; it was cleaner and greener now, but that palpable energy I had felt in college was gone, too. For me, anyway.


Time passes, life goes on, places change, people change. And still, I couldn't get Grace off my mind after seeing her in the subway. Fifteen years is too long to be holding on to a few heart-pounding moments from college.






Renée Carlino is a screenwriter and bestselling author of romantic women's novels. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two
sons, and their sweet dog June. When she’s not at the beach with her boys or working on her next project, she likes to spend her time reading, going to concerts, and eating dark chocolate.






Thursday, July 23, 2015

Before & After Chapter Reveal!! ( I CAN'T WAIT TO READ THIS BOOK!)



BA_CHreveal

Today is the chapter reveal for 

BEFORE & AFTER 

by Nazarea Andrews. 

Don't forget, BEFORE & AFTER (a New Adult contemporary romance) will be release  Thursday, July 30th.


Click here to ADD THE BOOK TO GOODREADS

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BEFORE & AFTER BOOK BLURB:


Rike and Peyton fell in love in college.

A boy from the wrong side of the tracks, covered in ink and crooning in a bar is the last person a straight laced girl with a art major should fall for, but his rough edges made her jagged, alive, shaving away the coddled southern princess and revealing a soul wild and brilliant.

They fell in love, despite her family and his past and all the reasons why it wouldn't work--and with their best friends, they made a life. Everyone was supposed to live happily ever after.
They, more than anyone, knows that life doesn't go according to plan.

Rike and Peyton fell in love in college. A boy with a guitar, and a poet's heart, and a girl with freckles dusted over her nose, a perfect fucking fairy tale.

But what happens when the fairy tale doesn't fall apart--but is forgotten?



B&A_7DAYS




Chapter One:

Prologue: Now

It's raining buckets and I don't want to go out in that. I stared at it from under the awning of the club and felt Lindsay sway into me. For a second, we both wobbled and another one of the girls banged against my side and I shrieked, sure we were going down.
Lindsay rights me, pulls me close. I lean my head on her shoulder and puff out a petulant, "Bitch."
Her grip tightens just a touch and she laughs.
I haven't been this drunk since senior year of college, when we did Christmas at her parent's beach house in Key West. I wouldn't be this drunk now except she begged.
Hung over and washed out wouldn't do for the wedding, and even after that insane night on the beach with jello shots and beer funnels and tequila body shots, I had woken up without a hang over.
And that's what you do, when your best friend begs the night before her wedding--you do her shots while the rest of the bridal party screams at the strippers and you slip her watered down beer that smells like piss.
You take the holy fuck never again drunk, because tomorrow, no one will be looking at me while she prances down the aisle in white.
Well.
One person will. And he'd think this shit was hilarious. I giggle against Linds' shoulder and she bumps me gently. "You good?" She murmurs as we wait for the cab.
I smirk up at her, the world spinning unsteadily. "I'm fucking wasted."
She laughs softly and kisses my forehead.
"Lindsay, get in," one of the other girls calls and she peers at the cab. It won't hold all of us, and I can feel a new tension settle over my best friend.
Lindsay doesn't have a lot of close friends. Partly because we came here, to this city neither of us knows, because of the boys. So we both started over.
And because when we have each other, and the boys, well. We don't need much else. But she's more social than I am. And she works at a small ad agency, where she's gotten close to the other girls.
So when she needed bridesmaids, of course she asked them.
I smirk as Lindsay shakes her head. "Y’all go. Peyton and I will grab the next."
There's a moment of rain splattered quiet and then the girl--I forget but I think she's one of the Jennifers--shrugs and slides into the little cab, slamming the door behind her.
"What a bitch," I mutter.
She laughs, that real noise that I know like breathing. Not the fake shit she's been shoveling at the other girls all night.
"Stop it," she orders and I blink up at her. "You’re thinking too much. Your drunk, Pey. Let go and enjoy it."
I lean into her, and murmur, "Wanna help?"
She laughs again, shoving my shoulder, and I giggle. "You are such a slut when you drink." She mutters.
I nod agreeably, and a cab pulls up. It's dingy and the driver is frowning at his phone even as it he pulls to a stop. He gives us a distracted look as we spill in and the world sways, dizzy for a long moment. Lindsay tugs me against her as I whimper and pushes my hair back, studying me. "The Embassy Suites," she says and he nods, jerking into motion.
Linds mutters under her breath and reaches for her seatbelt. "Sit up, honey. Belt. The rain is awful."
"Freaking mother hen," I grumble and she shrugs, implacable. I huff and shift to sit up and my phone goes off, the ringtone that only Rike has. I squeal and Lindsay reaches for me as I scramble for my purse, abandoned on the dark, dirty floorboard. I close my hand over it and hear her scream, my name a twisted noise that is almost unrecognizable.
It's the last thing I can't remember.


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Monday, June 29, 2015

Meet Lily Wilder: New Yorker, lawyer extraordinaire, blushing bride. And totally incapable of being faithful to one man.


Lily’s fiancé Will is a brilliant, handsome archaeologist. Lily is sassy, impulsive, fond of a good drink (or five) and has no business getting married. Lily likes Will, but does she love him? Will loves Lily, but does he know her? As the wedding approaches, Lily’s nights—and mornings, and afternoons—of booze, laughter and questionable decisions become a growing reminder that the happiest day of her life might turn out to be her worst mistake yet.

Unapologetically sexy with the ribald humor of Bridesmaids, this joyously provocative debut introduces a self-assured protagonist you won’t soon forget.

Author Bio . More Info

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Brilliant. Outrageously funny. Beautifully imperfect.

Lily Wilder is 20 something New York lawyer engaged to her wonderful archeologist boyfriend of 7 months. As we enter the week of her wedding, we witness the horrifying acts of Lily on her bachelorette party, Lily and her boss, Lily and her dry cleaner AND Lily and more than a few random bar hook ups. What is this chick doing getting married!? The story continues and we watch her struggle with the decision to get married or call off the wedding. While unscrupulous, Lily does present a conscious. It is this glimmer of guilt and regret that makes this story so gripping.

Some may consider this story to be appalling, I consider more as entertainment. So, I'm going to assess it as such. While Lily and Will's flaws lay bare and their relationship clearly romanticizes infidelity, it really isn't too far off from over dramatization of the rippling chests and multiple orgasms of other romance novels.

Understandably, I hated Lily. She did and said everything I have known deep in by bones to be wrong since I was born, but she made a very demanding lead character. Witnessing her inner conflict eased my judgment for the sake of entertainment. She captured my attention from page one and I did not want to stop reading!
The supporting characters in this story move the plot along flawlessly. Not once does the plot stall waiting for motivation. Freddy, Lily's ultimate BFF, is hilarious as she guides Lily through the final days before her wedding. She provides Lily a much needed reality check and more than enough levity for a sad situation. Next, are Lily's father's ex-wives. They provide the delightful wisdom of experience as they try to prevent Lily from deceiving Will into an untruthful marriage.

This book takes the saying "all's fair in love and war" to a whole new level. Can a relationship work after a "Cold War" such as Will and Lily's?  With multiple twists and turns along the way this book easily makes a readers head spin with anticipation.

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Adventures Abroad by: Jen McConnel

It’s release day for Jen McConnel’s Adventures Abroad series! Jen is sharing an exclusive excerpt about this fantastic travel romance series!


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About the Books:

Four countries. Three girls. Three loves. One adventure abroad they'll never forget.



What Happens in London


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Sarah landed in London, just hoping to leave her home behind and escape her family. But she didn't plan on falling headfirst into Carson's arms. Get ready for a summer of self-discovery and romance in the first of the New Adult novella series, Adventures Abroad! Praise for What Happens in London: "Travel through London with Sarah, you'll squee, laugh and swoon at her adventures, I know I did!"- Lisa Burstein, author of Sneaking Candy




What Happens in Paris



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Camie can't figure out what she wants, from college or life…until she meets Hunter. But will the magic of a romantic night in Paris last till the morning? Fall in love with the second novella in the New Adult series, Adventures Abroad!







What Happens in Berlin



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Interrupting a summer of fun, Joelle takes a detour to Berlin for her older brother's wedding. Spending time with her family is enough to make anyone go a little crazy. She's ready to lose it...until she meets Vi, a girl ready to turn her world upside down. Follow her journey in the third installment of the New Adult series, Adventures Abroad!




What Happens Abroad



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After a summer of fun, Camie, Joelle, and Sarah are ready to reunite in Italy for one last adventure, but heartbreak waits in the shadows of the cobblestone streets. Can Florence cast its spell and turn lost love into a final fling? Catch up with the girls in this final installment of the New Adult series about love, escape, and true friendship.



_AdventuresAbroad


Exclusive Excerpt:

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” A familiar voice cut across the street, and I winced. Carson sauntered over to me, holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a Styrofoam cup in the other.

I blinked at him, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“You mentioned where you were staying last night.”

I frowned, trying to remember. “I did?”

He slapped his hand to his chest as if I’d wounded him. “That’s the kind of welcome I get? A few dances and the lady doesn’t even remember me!”

I giggled, but pain shot through my head, and I winced.

Carson handed me the cup and the bag. “I thought you might need some hangover first-aid. You do like coffee, right?”

I nodded, taking the cup. “Actually, I like tea better, but coffee’s okay.”

Carson laughed. “Here I was trying to please your American sensibilities.” He shook his head ruefully. “If you want tea, we’ll find tea for you. That’s one thing we never run short of in London.”

I chuckled, taking a cautious sip. It was warm, but not too hot, and I took another swallow of the coffee. “What’s in the bag?”

“Hangover cure. I told you.”

I peeked inside. “A croissant?”

“Not just any croissant. It’s a chocolate croissant; you’ll love it.”

I took a tentative bite of the flaky pastry, and then I grinned up at Carson. “Oh my God. This is so good.”

He laughed. “I thought you’d like it. At least I was right about half the breakfast.”

“The coffee’s good, too.” I took another sip to prove my point.

“That’s good.” He draped an arm over my shoulder and pulled me close. We started to walk, and I hurried to finish the food. Taking the aspirin out of my bag, I popped a pill in my mouth and washed it down with coffee. Carson grinned at me. “Feeling better?”

I nodded, surprised that my head had calmed down. “Yeah. I thought it was a migraine.”

“Just a hangover. We drank a lot last night.”

I flushed, remembering the feeling of his hands running all over me on the dance floor. “It was fun.”

“It was more than fun.” His eyes sparkled, and his fingers began tracing lazy circles on my shoulder.

I shivered in delight. “So,” I said, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice, “what did you want to do today?”

His eyes danced wickedly. “Well”—he lowered his face to mine—“there are a few things I’ve had in mind,” he whispered, close enough that I could feel the vibration of his words against my skin. Hangover forgotten, I shut my eyes and parted my lips. After a moment, I felt him exhale against my mouth, and then his lips were pressed to mine.

The kiss was sweet and deep, and my body felt electric. God, so this is what I’d been missing all those years? I pressed my lips to his hungrily, but then he pulled back gently and smiled.



Jen McConnel Bio:

Jen McConnel-0034A Michigander by birth, Jen McConnel now makes her home in the beautiful state of North Carolina. She writes NA, including the recently released Adventures Abroad series (Bloomsbury Spark), the award winning YA novel Beautiful Curse, and various other works. When she isn’t writing, she can be found on her yoga mat or wandering off on another adventure. Once upon a time, she was a middle school teacher, a librarian, and a bookseller, but those are stories for another time. Visit www.JenMcConnel.com to learn more!



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Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Searching For Beautiful by Jennifer Probst

Searching For Beautiful by Jennifer Probst
Searching For, #3

(May 26, 2015, Gallery Books)



Genevieve MacKenzie has her life completely under control. About to wed the charming Chief doctor at the local hospital, she’s an up-and-coming surgeon with everything she could ever want. Until an escape through the church window on the day of her wedding sends her life into a tailspin...and flings her right into her best friend’s arms.


When Wolfe catches his best friend falling out a window on her wedding day, he doesn’t ask questions. He whisks her away, determined to watch over her and discover the truth behind her desperate escape. But when his feelings turn more than platonic, he realizes he may risk his most important relationship in order to protect his damaged heart, and the woman he loves.

Can Genevieve and Wolfe’s friendship turn into something deeper—or is it already too late for true love?



Amazon . Barnes & Noble . Kobo . iTunes  

EXCERPT:

He made a move to get up, but she lost it, knowing once she spotted the pity in his eyes she may never be the same.
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me! I need you to leave. I’m begging you to go out the door and give me time. Tomorrow, I’ll put myself back together and everything will be fine.” Her voice broke but she pushed on. “I just need some time alone. To
process. Please, Wolfe, please just go.”
She had nothing left, so she turned and walked toward the window. He didn’t move from the edge of the bed. Didn’t breathe. She pressed her forehead to the cool pane of glass and prayed to finish this awful night in isolation. Tomorrow she’d get her shit together and it would be okay. But tonight all bets were off, and she felt dangerously out of control . . . on the pinnacle of something so fierce she didn’t know how to handle it.
The mattress creaked. Shoes hit the floor. She held her breath and waited for the blessed silence, but instead of heading out, he stopped right behind her. His body heat roped her in and pulled tight, like a helpless calf at the rodeo. She held the windowsill in a deathlike grip, sensing him closing the distance inch by precious inch, until his chest pressed against her back.
“Look at me.” The rough growl was full of danger, command, heat. She was helpless to disobey, leaving the safety of the window to turn and face him full force. He reached out and tipped her chin up. Blistering, raw lust shot from his eyes. As if they were glowing from under the sea in the Caribbean, she tumbled into the depths of a gaze that promised everything with a Warning: Danger label attached.
His grip tightened, refusing to allow her to retreat, and he crowded her space by taking another step between her thighs. The sill dug into her lower back. His scent drowned out everything but the need to touch him, feast, taste—the delicious mix of lemon and soap and cotton surrounding her.
“I need you to listen closely, because I’m only going to say it once. Understood?”
Her lips parted. This was no friend. This was a deadly man with an agenda. Transfixed, she nodded, unable to form words, mere prey beneath the command of a dangerous predator.
“I’m done with excuses and conversation and politeness. I’m over this bullshit of you questioning the power you have to grip me in a vise so tight I can’t even breathe without wanting you with my last breath. I’m tired of walking around with a dick that won’t go down when I catch your scent, or look at your sweet curves, or imagine being buried deep within you. Are you still listening, Gen?”
Her body flamed so hot and bright she was surprised burn marks didn’t appear on her skin. She began to shake, and her belly uncurled so a river flow of liquid warmth coursed between her thighs, tightening her muscles, gripping her with a need she’d never experienced or believed could be real. “Yes,”she whispered.
“Good. Because tonight I’m going to fuck you. All night. If I was a true friend, I’d walk out that door and give you the space to rebuild your walls. You deserve that. But I’m a selfish prick who needs you in my bed so bad I’ll trade my soul to the devil for one taste of you. Still listening?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“I’ll give you three seconds to run. It’s the smart thing to do. Just walk away from me and we’ll never mention this again. We’ll go back to being friends, push this whole episode aside, and go on pretending. But if you’re still standing here after that, you’re mine. Every part of you. And I promise you’ll never question your ability to cast a sexual spell on a man so deep and encompassing he’ll spend the rest of his life comparing you to every other woman he touches.”
Her head spun, the room tilted, and she grasped his arm to keep her balance. “Wolfe.”
“One.”
Her stomach dropped to her toes. His mouth moved closer.
“Oh, God.”
 “Two.”
She swallowed, one foot poised for flight, knowing it would wreck everything, change their relationship forever, open a door that could never be shut and locked again.
“I don’t—”
“Three. Too late. You belong to me for tonight.”
“I think—”
“Don’t think. Just give me everything you got.”
He cupped her cheeks, dropped his head, and took her mouth.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jennifer Probst wrote her first book at twelve years old. She bound it in a folder, read it to her classmates, and hasn’t stopped writing since. She took a short hiatus to get married, get pregnant, buy a house, get pregnant again, pursue a master’s in English Literature, and rescue two shelter dogs. Now she is writing again.

She makes her home in Upstate New York with the whole crew. Her sons keep her active, stressed, joyous, and sad her house will never be truly clean.

She is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of sexy and erotic contemporary romance. She was thrilled her book, The Marriage Bargain, was ranked #6 on Amazon's Best Books for 2012. She loves hearing from readers. Visit her website for updates on new releases and her street team at
www.jenniferprobst.com.

Website . Facebook Fan Page . Twitter . Goodreads 





Tuesday, May 12, 2015


All Played Out RWB banner

We are absolutely thrilled to bring you the Release Week Blitz for Cora Carmack's ALL PLAYED OUT! ALL PLAYED OUT is a New Adult Contemporary Romance and is the 3rd book in the Rusk University Series, published by William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins.



All Played Out - cover


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About ALL PLAYED OUT:

First person in her family to go to college? CHECK.
Straight A’s? CHECK.
On track to graduate early? CHECK.
Social life? …..yeah, about that….

With just a few weeks until she graduates, Antonella DeLuca’s beginning to worry that maybe she hasn’t had the full college experience. (Okay... Scratch that. She knows she hasn't had the full college experience).

So Nell does what a smart, dedicated girl like herself does best. She makes a "to do" list of normal college activities.

Item #1? Hook up with a jock.

Rusk University wide receiver Mateo Torres practically wrote the playbook for normal college living. When he’s not on the field, he excels at partying, girls, and more partying. As long as he keeps things light and easy, it's impossible to get hurt... again. But something about the quiet, shy, sexy-as-hell Nell gets under his skin, and when he learns about her list, he makes it his mission to help her complete it.

Torres is the definition of confident (And sexy. And wild), and he opens up a side of Nell that she's never known. But as they begin to check off each crazy, exciting, normal item, Nell finds that her frivolous list leads to something more serious than she bargained for. And while Torres is used to taking risks on the field, he has to decide if he's willing to take the chance when it's more than just a game.

Together they will have to decide if what they have is just part of the experiment or a chance at something real.


And don’t miss the first two books in the Rusk University Series

All Lined Up

ALL LINED UP, Book 1

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All Broke Down

ALL BROKE DOWN, Book 2

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All Played Out - Teaser 1


ALL PLAYED OUT Excerpt:

“We’re going to a Halloween party. Trust me, you’ll feel more awkward if you’re not dressed up. When we get there, you’ll see. This is no big deal.”
I don’t look down at the white button-up shirt that’s gaping open over my boobs. I’ve looked at the awful naughty-schoolgirl costume enough times to imprint the thing on my memory.
“If this costume weren’t so … so …”
“Sexy?” she prompts.
“Atrocious.”
“Well, that’s what you get for buying a costume the day before Halloween. Everything is picked over by then. You didn’t want to go as Jasmine and have your stomach showing, so this is what you got. Besides, it kind of fits you.”
I gesture to the button over my chest that’s threatening to pop with any sudden movement. “It does not kind of fit me.”
“I mean, the schoolgirl vibe. It’s like the amplified version of you. That’s perfect for Halloween.”
“There is absolutely no universe where the amplified version of me would not be wearing yoga pants and glasses.”
“Fine. It’s the bold and wild version of you. Nothing wrong with trying bold and wild for a change.”
I groan and throw myself down on the toilet seat beside her. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think I should go to this party after all. All those people, and costumes, and decorations. I think Halloween is way too overwhelming for my first foray into the college party scene.”
Dylan tosses her mascara into her makeup bag and faces me, her look now complete. She manages to appear both classy and sexy in a homemade Statue of Liberty costume. Only Dylan could make Lady Liberty look hot.
“Just take a deep breath, Nell. This isn’t nearly as scary as you’re making it out to be in your head. I promise.”
“Maybe not for you. But the idea of being in some frat house with a bunch of people I don’t know—”
She cuts me off. “We’re not going to one of the frat parties. Everyone has been avoiding that scene since … well, it doesn’t matter. The group decided it would be better to have something smaller, more manageable. It’s at Silas’s house. And it’s only people they know and trust. You’ll be fine. I know it.”

           
Apparently “people they know and trust” translates into about thirty people on the lawn, fifteen on the porch, and more people than I can count on the inside. Dylan’s hand is wrapped tight around my elbow as we step through the entryway to Silas’s house. She’s on her tiptoes, searching for him, and all I can think about is making a break for it and getting out of there as soon as possible.
I’m so concentrated on keeping my short skirt down and the too-tight white shirt buttoned up that I don’t even realize she’s found her boyfriend until she lets go of my arm. At the loss of her touch, I look up, panicked. Silas is dressed as a fireman, and he drops his helmet to circle his arms around Dylan. His fist clutches at the material on the back of her dress, just above her bottom, and I immediately look away, only to lock eyes with the one person I want to see even less than a very public display of affection.
Mateo Torres.
He has a beer lifted halfway to his mouth, but his jaw is slack, and he’s staring at me. No, “stare” does not quite do justice to the look he’s giving me. His eyes raze me, and when I lift my hand to touch my neck, subconsciously covering my all-too-visible cleavage, I’m surprised my skin doesn’t flake away into ashes from the fire in his gaze.
Adrenaline surges through me, and for a moment it feels like a fight-or-flight impulse, and I wonder why my brain still reads his presence as dangerous. But then I stop and think. It’s not quite the same sensation. Fight or flight generally makes me either panic or freeze up. It’s about fear. This is different. When seconds pass and he still hasn’t taken his eyes off of me, I recognize the extra sensation riding on the adrenaline’s heels.
Power.
He makes me feel powerful.
I drop my eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure I feel at that idea, and am faced instead with his costume that I hadn’t noticed before. Or more correctly, his near lack of a costume. His chest is bare, and I can’t help but measure him with my eyes. His chest is broad, hewn in muscles that couldn’t be more defined if an artist sculpted them. His skin is a warm bronze, and it looks so smooth to the touch. Everywhere. Except for the small line of dark hair disappearing beneath a strange, leatherlike cloth.
God. A loincloth. He’s wearing nothing but a loincloth.
Oh, mercy.
Then he’s moving toward me, and I don’t know where to look. His dangerous gaze. His naked chest. That cloth that hides only … oh, mercy.
“Girl genius,” he says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice without even looking away from the suddenly interesting spot on the floor. Then he shifts, and something changes in his voice when he says, “Nell.”
A part of me likes hearing him say my name entirely too much. And that part … is a fool.
“Still ignoring my request that you stay away?” I ask stiffly.
“If you wanted me to stay away, you definitely shouldn’t have worn that.”
A furious blush steals across my cheeks and down my neck. “Dylan insisted I wear a costume, and this was all that was left at the store.”
“Thank God for Dylan, then. And for procrastination. Can you do me a favor and say, ‘Hit me, baby, one more time?’ Pretty please?”
 Rather than answering, I actually hit him. But when my palm makes contact with the hard muscle of his shoulder, I wish I hadn’t. Because now that I know what his bare skin feels like, I’m not sure I’ll be able to forget the sensation. My brain is already cataloging the feel, comparing it to all the other people I’ve touched, and coming up empty for comparison. Is it normal for him to feel so warm?
It’s the alcohol, I decide. It must be. I read something once about it dilating blood vessels and bringing warmer blood closer to the surface of the skin.
Yes, that’s absolutely it.

For more of what’s next in The Rusk University Series, go here!



ACO announcement

Add Book 4, ALL CLOSED OFF, to your Goodreads now!



HeadshotAbout Cora Carmack:

Cora Carmack is a twenty-something writer who likes to write about twenty-something characters. She's done a multitude of things in her life-- boring jobs (like working retail), Fun jobs (like working in a theatre), stressful jobs (like teaching), and dream jobs (like writing). She enjoys placing her characters in the most awkward situations possible, and then trying to help them get a boyfriend out of it. Awkward people need love, too. Her first book, LOSING IT, was a New York Times and USA Today bestseller.








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