Blog Tour: Moonlight Seduction by Jennifer L. Armentrout

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SYNOPSIS

Moonlight Seduction: A de Vincent Novel from New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout is available NOW!

The de Vincent brothers are back—and so is the intrigue that surrounds them—in New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout’s sizzling new novel . . .

Nicolette Bresson never thought she’d return to the de Vincents’ bayou compound. It’s where her parents work, where Nikki grew up . . . and where she got her heart broken by Gabriel de Vincent himself. Yet here she is, filling in for her sick mother. Avoiding Gabe should be easy, especially when so much of Nikki’s time is spent trying not to be stabbed in the back by the malicious hangers-on who frequent the mansion. But escaping memories of Gabe, much less his smoking-hot presence, is harder than expected—especially since he seems determined to be in Nikki’s space as much as possible.

Gabriel spent years beating himself up over his last encounter with Nikki. He’d wanted her then, but for reasons that were bad for both of them. Things have now changed. Gabe sees more than a girl he’s known forever; he sees a smart, talented, and heartbreakingly beautiful woman . . . one who’s being stalked from the shadows. Now, Gabe will do anything to keep Nikki safe—and to stop the de Vincent curse from striking again.

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Download your copy today!

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Start the Series Today!

Moonlight Sins (de Vincent series, book 1)

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Audible: http://amzn.to/2DJB1JZ

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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# 1 New York Times and # 1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Charles Town, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing. she spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki. In early 2015, Jennifer was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a group of rare genetic disorders that involve a breakdown and death of cells in the retina, eventually resulting in loss of vision, among other complications.  Due to this diagnosis, educating people on the varying degrees of blindness has become of passion of hers, right alongside writing, which she plans to do as long as she can.

Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Tor, HarperCollins Avon and William Morrow, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her Wicked Series has been optioned by PassionFlix. Jennifer has won numerous awards, including the 2013 Reviewers Choice Award for Wait for You, the 2015 Editor’s Pick for Fall With Me, and the 2014/2015 Moerser-Jugendbuch- Jury award for Obsidian. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA. Her adult romantic suspense novel TILL DEATH was a Amazon Editor’s Pick and iBook Book of the Month. Her young adult contemporary THE PROBLEM WITH FOREVER is a 2017 RITA Award Winner in Young Adult Fiction. She also writes Adult and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.

She is the owner of ApollyCon and The Origin Event, the successful annual events that features over hundred bestselling authors in Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult Fiction, panels, parties, and more. She is also the creator and sole financier of the annual Write Your Way To RT Book Convention, a contest that gives aspiring authors a chance to win a fully paid trip to RT Book Reviews.

Be Sure To Follow Jennifer: 

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JLArmentrout

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

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Stay up to date with Jennifer by joining her mailing list today: https://bit.ly/2qBce5m

https://jenniferlarmentrout.com

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EXCERPT

He moved forward, maybe a foot or two, but stopped like one would if they were approaching a rabid dog. A heartbeat passed. “Your hair . . .” He tilted his head to the side. “It’s different.” 

“Yeah, it is.” Her hair used to be a rather dull medium brown, but then she found this amazing hair stylist in Tuscaloosa and turned her brown hair into this array of blondes and browns, using some weird technique called balayage. “It’s basically just highlights and stuff.” “Stuff.”

His gaze flickered over the bun. Uncomfortable, she scanned the kitchen. “And my hair is longer. A lot longer.” 

His brows lifted. 

Was she really telling him the length of her hair? This was the most strained conversation she’d ever had in her life. And that was, well, it was sad. She peeked at him. It used to not be this way. Back before . . . well, before she ruined everything, he’d be teasing her and asking about her college. He’d be talking to her like he could actually stand being in the same room with her. 

She needed this conversation to be over like it was yesterday and she also needed to figure out how she could work here and not run into Gabe. The house was big enough that it should be possible. “I need to get back to—” 

“Planting your face against the over door?” 

Her shoulders slumped. “Actually, I need to finish the potatoes. So, if you’ll excuse me.” She started to turn away, praying that he’d just leave. 

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me? Because I have a lot I need to say to you,” he said. “Never in a million years did I think I’d see you here again.” 

Nikki’s spine stiffened like steel had been poured into it. Oh God. Her throat spasmed. 

“We need to talk.” 

“No we don’t,” she said quickly. “We do not need to talk about anything.” 

“Bullshit,” he snapped, and his voice was so much closer that she turned to him on instinct. 

Gabe was now at the edge of the massive island, only two or three feet from her. She stepped back into the counter. Her heart thundered in her chest as her gaze flicked to the kitchen door. 

“No one is coming near here,” he said as if reading her mind. Her gaze flew back to his. “Dev is in his office on the second floor, in a meeting and your father is out with the landscaper. No one is going to hear us.” 

A weird mixture of sensations assaulted her. One was a chill that skated down her spine. The other was a tight, hot shiver that danced over her skin. 

Gabe kept coming at her, not stopping until he was right in front of her, separated by a few inches. She sucked in air, catching the crisp, clean scent of his cologne. It reminded her of storms, of that night. 

That was the last thing she wanted to be reminded of. 

Like his brother, he was a good head and then some taller than her, so right now, her eyes were fastened to his chest. 

Thank God he was wearing a shirt. 

“I . . . I don’t want to talk,” she managed to say. 

“I do.” 

“Gabe—” 

“You owe me this.”

Her body jerked as she pressed her lips together. He was right. She owed him a conversation. “Okay.” 

There was another beat of silence and then he asked in a voice so low she almost didn’t believe she heard him right. 

“Did I hurt you that night?”

 

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Blog Tour: Dirty Exes by Rachel Van Dyken

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Dirty Exes by Rachel Van Dyken
On Sale: June 5th, 2018
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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SYNOPSIS

They’re serving up some red-hot revenge. A sizzling series from #1 New York Times bestselling author Rachel van Dyken.

Blaire has never quite gotten over Jessie Beckett, the ex–NFL star whose kisses were hot enough to ignite the entire Eastern Seaboard. When he chose work over her, Blaire was left brokenhearted. Why else would she have married a skeezy two-timer, just to divorce him less than a year later?

Now Blaire is getting even by becoming one half of Dirty Exes, a PI firm fully committed to humiliating cheating jerks. If only the new jerk she’s been hired to uncover wasn’t Jessie Beckett himself.

Exposing Jessie isn’t going to be easy, especially when she still daydreams about his sexy smile. Further complicating matters is Colin, Jessie’s best friend. He’s gorgeous, a little bit cunning, and willing to help Blaire get the inside scoop on Jessie—for a price.

Now caught between two men—one totally right and the other totally wrong—Blaire will need to decide just how much she’s willing to risk…and whom she’s willing to risk it for.

Read Today!
FREE in Kindle Unlimited
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. 

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Be Sure To Follow Rachel:

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Website: http://rachelvandykenauthor.com
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Blog Tour (22)

EXCERPT

It ended there.

Right. Forget about his mouth.

Or the way I sighed when he touched my shoulder.

The way my body quivered when his skin pressed against mine in the car.

“Stop!” I gritted my teeth and searched the kitchen. Cheaters often hid things in places that their spouse wouldn’t expect, like pantries and junk drawers, places that seemed obvious but weren’t. I’d once found a second cell phone in a cereal box.

Cheaters were like drug addicts.

They knew the perfect place to hide the drugs.

I shuddered.

Dirty. Toilets.

Not the best day I’d ever had, but marginally better than the sewer.

I spent the next thirty minutes with plastic gloves searching every crevice of that kitchen, patting down the inside of drawers, digging through trash. Nothing.

The guy was either a saint . .

Or we had a serious Dexter situation going on, and he knew exactly how to dispose of incriminating evidence.

Sexy male laughter jolted me from my search. I freaked, ran into the pantry, and shut the door just as Jessie’s face came into view.

Sweat trickled down my back.

Shit, shit, shit!

Oh, this was bad, so bad.

What man didn’twant to eat after coming home from the gym?

“Nice, man, she keeps the book on the bar?” Colin’s mocking voice at least made me feel like I wasn’t the only one who thought it was strange. “Fams always so classy.”

“Yeah,” Jessie agreed. “I think maybe it’s her way of reminding me how happy we were that one year.” He hesitated. “You know, the one where we actually did normal things like stay home and make dinner, and watch movies instead of going out all the time. That went to hell fast.”

Colin sighed.

“She writes a book about our best year, and then turns into this greedy person I don’t recognize and dream about murdering in her sleep.”

·     “Hey,” Colin warned. “I get it, I do, but she’s still my—”

“Sorry, man.”

“It’s fine, like I said, I get it.”

I plastered my ear to the door to listen harder. What did Colin mean? Why was he defending her? Why was Jessie saying sorry? I made a mental note to purchase the book and torture myself by reading it cover to cover.

“You contemplate murdering her while she sleeps,” Colin said in a weird tone, “and yet she’s still living here in this house with you? Tell me how that makes sense? You say she’s not the same person, but she never really was the person you thought she was. When are you going to get that?”

“She was different then, man. She was.” Jessie came to her defense so quickly I almost fell backward. He sounded like—he still had feelings for her. I turned my attention back to the door as footsteps neared the pantry. Oh hell. Not good.

I needed to get out. Fast.

I grabbed my cell and texted Colin.

And seconds later heard a ping.

“Another one of your sex buddies?” Jessie teased.

Colin paused and then, “Oh yeah, but this one’s been really hard to tame. You know the type, a bit schizo but so hot you don’t care that she asks to twist your nipples while she licks your nose.”

“Seriously?” Jessie choked.

“She likes noses. And snake tattoos, loves them.”

“Lucky for you.”

“I think it reminds her of the size of my dick, you know?”

I made a gagging noise, shifted on my feet, then texted again.

Me: Seriously! Trapped! And your dick can’t be the size of that python on your arm because that would mean you actually impale women on a daily basis.

Colin: Just call me Dracula.

I frowned.

Colin: Get it? The impaler.

Me: Look at that, basement dweller can joke! He’s got jokes! Meanwhile I’m going to starve to death in this pantry.

Colin: You mean around all that food?

“Wow, this girl must have skills if you’re that focused on your texts . . .” Jessie trailed off.

“She’s . . . unique,” Colin finally said.

My eyes narrowed. Was that a compliment? Did it matter? Why did I care? And why the hell did Jessie have ten different kinds of cereal—and all the boxes were full.

And alphabetized? Starting with Apple Jacks? Really?

Not that I’d resorted to more snooping.

Okay, so I’d resorted to more snooping.

But the fact that they were full was emotionally distressing. A full cereal box at my house lasts about one hot minute before I get a craving for Cheerios that even wine can’t cure.

“Hey”—Colin cleared his throat—“I need a favor.”

“Anything,” Jessie said quickly.

“I need a nice shirt for a date tonight, something . . . classy.”

Jessie laughed. “What? You can’t wear your own clothes?”

“You know I like your style better.” I rolled my eyes, has he seen that man’s closet? His white shirts are all ironed to within an inch of their lives. “Plus I want to impress this girl and I don’t have time to go grab a new shirt, we’re going on a late lunch date and I’m sweaty as hell, so please? Let me borrow a shirt, I’ll go home and shower, pair it with some nice jeans, and be inside her in no time.”

I glared at the door. Like I could actually see Colin’s smug expression. Why was my heart thumping? Why was I breathing like I was having trouble sucking in air?

He could date whomever he wanted.

I shifted on my feet as my face heated.

He was an attractive, successful man.

I crossed my arms.

Then uncrossed them nervously.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jessie finally said. “I’ll be right back, try not to burn down the kitchen or set the book on fire.”

“Shit, you read my mind,” Colin joked.

The sound of footsteps faded as Jessie walked toward the bedroom.

And then pantry door was jerked open.

I blinked up at him. “Thank you.”

“People . . . they pay you,” he said, leaning his large frame against the door while his muscles bulged beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, “for this?”

My eyes narrowed. “Yes! And I’m good at it.”

His smirk was wicked as he glanced behind me and then locked eyes. “Obviously.”

I shoved his chest. “I miscalculated the time, that’s all.” I tried squeezing past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the pantry and closed the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed as he pressed me against the wall. “He’s going to find me!”

“A favor for a favor, spy girl.” Colin’s grin turned menacing. “I got Jessie out of the house, gave you my car, and saved your sorry ass. I get a favor.”

“I’m not sucking your nose and licking your tattoo, you psycho,” I said, repeating what he’d said earlier.

“Don’t knock it, you may love it.” He winked, and then stood his ground. “One favor.”

I sighed and gritted my teeth. “Fine.”

“A date,” he said triumphantly. “I want a date.”

“A date,” I repeated in a slightly panicked voice. “Like to dinner?”

“No, I was thinking the drive-in, we could make out, eat popcorn, I’d feel you up a bit—yeah, dinner.”

I smirked. “If I go to dinner with you . . . you’ll get me out of this godforsaken pantry with the full boxes of cereal?”

“Noticed that, did you?’

“He’s clearly not human.”

“I steal his Cocoa Puffs every chance I get.”

I nodded seriously. “I think my respect for you grew just now.”

“Ah, she likes cereal.”

“She’d also like to not get caught!”

“Go.” He shoved me toward the pantry door. “Run out the back and try not to trip and ruin your escape.”

“I don’t trip.” Of course, at that moment, I tripped over my own feet and almost face-planted into his lips.

He sighed, his expression worried and a bit stunned as Jessie’s voice carried to the kitchen. “Black okay?”

“Go.” Colin shoved me again. “Oh, and you’re picking me up. It seems I’m down a car.” He winked. “I’ll text you.”

Blog Tour: Kissing Games by Tara Eglington

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Kissing Games by Tara Eglington 

Publisher: Wednesday Books 

On Sale: June 5, 2018** 

Hardcover: $18.99 

ISBN: 9781250168450| Ebook ISBN: 9781250131423 

SYNOPSIS

For a girl who shares her name with a princess (aka Sleeping Beauty), Aurora Skye’s romantic life seems fathoms away from a fairy tale. Sure, she’s landed her prince charming, Hayden Paris. And she got her wish—one first kiss with all the knee-trembling, butterfly-inducing gloriousness she’d hoped for. But instead of happily ever after, their second kiss landed Hayden in the emergency room. If that’s not mortifying enough, the whole school is now referring to her as “Lethal Lips.”

 

When Aurora’s best friend decides to run for class president and offers up Aurora’s matchmaking service as one of her campaign initiatives, the kissing games begin. Aurora has to convince everyone that her program works—but that might be hard to do when it seems like her own love life might be falling apart.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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TARA EGLINGTON grew up in Byron Bay, Australia. Her hobbies when she’s not writing include watching endless cat videos on YouTube, planning pretend holidays to the Maldives, and day-dreaming about who would play Hayden Paris in a film adaptation of How to Keep a Boy from Kissing You, her first novel. She lives in Australia. 

 

Blog Tour: The Controversial Princess by Jodi Ellen Malpas

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SYNOPSIS

Her father is The King of England.

She is The Controversial Princess.

Regarded as down to earth by the press and rebellious by The King, Princess Adeline refuses to bow to the royal expectations her title carries. She knows better than anyone that the united front of the royal family is nothing but smoke and mirrors – lies and secrets masked by power and privilege. She wants no part of it, and she will never surrender to The King’s demand to marry a man she does not love. But despite Adeline’s determination to retain her free will, she remains deeply unfulfilled, feeling caged and suffocated.

That is until she meets Josh Jameson. Drawn in by his confidence, Adeline is soon captivated by the scandalously sexy American actor. His ability to penetrate her defences overwhelms her – his touch is pure fire, and his allure overpowering. Nothing has ever made her feel so alive in a world where she’s otherwise slowly drowning. However, while Josh may be Hollywood royalty, he’s not actual royalty, and Adeline knows The King and his advisors will do everything in their power to keep them apart.

But Josh Jameson becomes the princess’s ultimate vice.

And although she bows to no one, she bows to him.

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Read Today! 

Amazon US ➤ https://amzn.to/2FyEtXU
Amazon UK ➤ http://bit.ly/Princess-Amz-UK
Amazon CA ➤ https://amzn.to/2vOysqB
iBooks ➤ bit.ly/Princess-iBooks
Nook ➤ http://bit.ly/Princess-Nook-US
Kobo ➤ http://bit.ly/2wX3JZ7  

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

www.kerryannduffy.com

Jodi Ellen Malpas author photos

Jodi Ellen Malpas wrote her debut series, The This Man Trilogy, in secret, worried about what people might think if they knew what her imagination was capable of. She was shocked herself. But she finally found the courage to unleash her creative streak and self-published THIS MAN – the first book of the This Man Trilogy – in October 2012. She took a chance on the story with a hero who soon became one of modern day fictions most prolific alpha male characters. Jesse Ward – also affectionately known as The Lord of The Manor, sparked incredible reactions from women across the globe and catapulted Jodi into the world of women’s fiction.

Jodi went on to self-publish the second book in the trilogy, Beneath This Man in Jan 2013, just before Grand Central Publishing, part of the Hachette Book Group, picked up the popular trilogy and the unknown Jodi. The third book of the trilogy, This Man Confessed, took Jodi to the top of the bestsellers lists, earning her the proud title of #1 New York Times Bestselling Author. This Man has since been voted one of the top romance novels of all time.

With so much love, enthusiasm and a thirst for her words from her readers, Jodi suddenly wasn’t afraid of her imagination anymore. She went on to write The One Night Trilogy with the delectable and mysterious Miller Hart, and stole the hearts of her readers once again. Her first stand-alone novel, THE PROTECTOR,  released in September 2016 and has since been nominated for a Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. Jodi’s next stand-alone novel. THE FORBIDDEN, is set for release in August 2017.

All seven of her published novels have hit the New York Times best sellers list – as well as the Sunday Times list and various international best seller lists. Her work is now published in over 24 languages across the world.

Jodi was born and raised in the Midlands town of Northampton, England, where she lives with her two boys and a beagle. She is a self-professed daydreamer, a mojito addict, is famous for her obsession with Converse, and has a terrible weak spot for Alpha Males. Writing powerful love stories and creating addictive characters has become her passion – a passion she now shares with her devoted readers

Be Sure To Follow Jodi Ellen Malpas:

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JodiEllenMalpas

YouTube: https://goo.gl/2kGLbt

Instagram: http://www.jodiellenmalpas.co.uk/instagram/

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EXCERPT

Leaning over, he kisses the tip of my nose. “Now, food’s on the way. We’ll have a carpet picnic, what do ya say?”

“I’ve never had a carpet picnic before.”

“Say what?” He looks horrified. “Never?”

My shoulders jump up on a little shrug. “It’s all fine dining, posh china, and solid silver cutlery at a table that’s so shiny you can see your face in it.”

“Then tonight we fix that.” He pulls me up and walks us through to the lounge. “Get all the cushions on the floor.” He pulls a throw off the back of a chair and wafts it into the air while I pull all the cushions from the couch. I watch as Josh gets on his hands and knees and starts pulling at the corners of the blanket, straightening it out and placing cushions. 

I have a permanent smile on my face, fascinated by his deep concentration. “You are doing a tremendously good job,” I say, clearing my face of my smile when his motions falter and he looks up at me. One of his eyes narrows, and in a lightning move, he snatches my wrist and yanks me down to the floor. I cry in surprise, being rolled to my back until I’m once again pinned against something by his body. Not that I’m complaining. Would never dream of it. I blow a tickling hair from my nose and grin at him.

“You’re making fun of me.” He dips and bites the end of my nose.

“Not at all.” I chuckle, squirming beneath him while he makes a meal of my face.

“Too good for a carpet picnic, are you? You want a throne?”

“Definitely not,” I blurt. “Unless your face will be my throne.”

Josh pulls back speedily on a little choke, his eyes bulging. I press my lips together as he stares at me in shock, like how could such a vulgar thing have fallen from the lips of a princess? “I think I just fell in love with you.”

It’s my turn to choke. “Blimey, you fall easily, don’t you?”

“Actually, I don’t fall at all.”

“No?” 

He shakes his head. “Baby, I’ll be your throne any day of the week.”

“Honored.”

“It is me who’s honored. It’s not every day a real-life princess tells you she wants to sit on your face.”

Laughter erupts from deep within me, my eyes clenching shut, my head thrown back. My position and lack of control gives Josh the perfect opportunity to ravish my throat. And he does, growling dramatically, squirming above me…rubbing me.

Blog Tour: Worth The Risk by K. Bromberg

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SYNOPSIS

This whole contest was supposed to be easy. I know, I know. Famous last words.

It’s a long story, but I messed up at work. Big time. To earn back the trust of my boss, I promised to save one of our magazines. Yep. That Hot Dad contest you’ve seen advertised all over the place was my idea. And if I’m successful, if I’m able to increase our online readership, then I get a shot at my dream job.

But the one thing I never expected to happen, happened: Contestant number ten, Grayson Malone. Hello, Mr. Difficult. And did I mention sexy as hell?

Unfortunately he knows me. The old me, anyway. And while we might be older now, I remind him of before. Of the woman who broke his heart, who hardened him, and who left him alone to raise the cutest little boy I’ve ever seen. 

But I don’t want a relationship. And I definitely don’t fall for single dads with baggage. Even ones with chiseled abs and killer smiles. 

But he got to me. They got to me. Him and his son and their messy, crazy life.  But I got to him too. I see the stolen glances. I feel the walls he built start to crumble. I recognize that there’s an unexpected beauty to the chaos in his life. 

And now that the contest is about to end, we’re left to decide whether the last six months were just fun or if what we have is worth risking it all?

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Download Your Copy Today!

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Text Kbromberg to 77948 to stay up to date on all things, Driven movies and new releases!

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

K. Bromberg Author Photo

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.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, Kristy has sold over one million copies of her books across sixteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by Passionflix with the first movie slated to release in the summer of 2018.

She is currently working on her Everyday Heroes trilogy. This series consists of three complete standalone novels—Cuffed, Combust, and Cockpit (late spring 2018)—and is about three brothers who are emergency responders, the jobs that call to them, and the women who challenge them.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales: http://bit.ly/254MWtI

Connect with K. Bromberg:

Website:  http://www.kbromberg.com

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KBrombergDriven

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Amazon Author: http://amzn.to/204Qnfz

GoodReads:  http://bit.ly/1koZIkL

Join her Reader Group: http://bit.ly/1PMUoG3

Sign up for her Newsletter: http://bit.ly/254MWtI 

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EXCERPT

But by the time I reach her, my blood boils with irrationality spurred on by too much alcohol.

“Can I have a moment?” I ask as I walk up to her and grab her elbow, pushing her down the darkened hallway.

“What is your problem?” She hisses as she fights me every step of the way.

We get looks. I get looks. I don’t care because all I keep seeing is Vince’s hands on her arm. His eyes on her tits. His bullshit game I can spot a mile away.

I find the closest door down the hallway leading to the bathrooms, and it opens. I push her through it, barely noticing that it’s an office of sorts before the door is shut, her back is up against it, and my mouth is covering hers.

Take.

Goddammit. That’s my only thought as I fit my lips to hers and take out my anger on her mouth with tongue and teeth and every fucking lick and nip in between.

“What—”

“I’m so pissed at you.”

It’s all I say. It’s the only chance I give her to come up for air before my lips are back on hers. Before my tongue wars with hers. Before my body admits it would beg, borrow, and steal in order to taste every other part of her.

Groan.

I swallow the tiny sound she makes in our kiss as my hands hold her neck still and my lips wage an all-out assault. She hesitates—just a split second—before she reacts. Before her body bows into me, and her mouth argues back.

Fist.

Her hand in my shirt. Her other hand at the back of my neck as our bodies meet—pressed knee to chest. Her perfume in my nose. Her hair tickling my cheeks. The feel of her tits against my chest.

Give.

I can’t get enough.

I’m mad at her.

I want her.

I don’t want to want her.

Christ, do I want her.

“Gray.” A murmured protest.

I tear my lips from hers, shove off the door I have her pressed against, and stride to the other side of the room.

“You are . . . you just . . .” It’s as if I can barely breathe. Christ, I’m mad at you.”

She stands there, lips parted, chest heaving, and golden brown curls messed from my hands, but her eyes look hurt. A hurt I don’t want to see but can’t deny.

“Why?”

“You did this,” I accuse as I try to manage the anger that’s waging a war against my desire.

“Did what?” Her eyes narrow. Her hand goes to press against her chest.

“Made me want you.”

Grayson: I’ve been thinking about you all day.

I look down at the text and smile before turning my attention back to Rissa and our plans for how we’re going to end this round of voting and move on to the top five.

“So, I think we close it out and then maybe take the next week and announce one of the finalists each day. Give little tidbits about each of them, make readers like them more, just have fun with it.”

My phone beeps again with another text, and I bite back the new grin trying to form on my lips. Rissa only huffs, eyeing my phone with annoyance. “Sorry, let me turn my ringer off.”

And then I have to feign nonchalance when I look down at my phone and find another text.

Grayson: My dick is rock hard, and it’s you I’m imagining. It’s in my hand when I’d rather it be in your mouth with my fingers in your pussy, working you into a frenzy.

“Is everything okay?” Rissa asks, making me realize I must have made a noise when I read the text. “You look startled.”

I glance back at the text again and shake my head while every part of my body comes to life. “Yeah, it’s, uh, fine.”

“Your ringer.” Her brows are lifted as she glances to my phone and then back to me.

My finger?” I squeak, thinking she saw the phone screen.

“Ringer. Sound on your phone.”

“Oh, yes . . . sorry.” Flustered, I fumble with my cell, and before I can even switch it off, another text alert pings.

Grayson: I want to bend you over and watch as my cock slides in and out of you. 

“So back to next week . . .”

“Yes,” I swallow over the desire lodged in every place it should be and try not to glance at my phone as it vibrates again.

“Are you good with that plan?” Rissa asks as I shift in my seat to abate the sudden ache burning brighter than bright.

“Yes. Sure. I think that sounds like a great plan.”

Grayson: I want my cock buried so deep that you feel every damn inch of me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, why?” My voice breaks like a prepubescent teenager.

Grayson: I want you to come so hard you have to bite the pillow.

“You look a little flushed. Are you coming down with something?”

Grayson: You always have a choice. Isn’t that what you said to me once? Make a choice, Sidney. Isn’t it time to head to lunch?

“I mean, yeah, maybe.” I pull at my collar some. “Maybe that’s why I feel so flushed all of a sudden.”

Grayson: Meet me on the backside of The Cottages. Room Six. Fifteen minutes.

“Either that,” she says as she stands and heads to the door, only turning back to give me a wink, “or you’re guilty as hell. Maybe you should go take care of that itch texting you . . . or take some Tylenol. Whichever one it is, I think you should take the afternoon off.”

Grayson: Choose me.

“Oh.” It’s the only thing I can think to say because my brain is otherwise occupied imagining Grayson following through on his promises.

“And, Sid?”

“Yeah?”

“I sure hope he’s every bit worth breaking the rules.” She winks. “It’s about damn time. Your secret is safe with me.”

Blog Tour: Co-Ed by Rachel Van Dyken

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SYNOPSIS

Four guys. 

Constant moaning. 

And a revolving door across the college suite I somehow ended up in because my first name is Shawn. 

They don’t discriminate. Girls. Guys. Grandmas. Plants (okay maybe not plants) all walks of life stroll in stressed to the brim, and leave so satisfied I’m wondering what sort of talents lie behind that door. 

My roommate calls them the pleasure ponies. 

But the rest of the college campus? 

They just call them the new face of Wingmen Inc. A paid for relationship service that makes big promises. 

Breakup? They’ll glue you back together again. 

Depressed? They have the magic pill. 

Lonely? Just spend a few minutes while they rub you down and you’ll forget all about it. 

And broken hearts? Well, that’s their specialty. They’ll fix you 

For a price…

I swore I wouldn’t get involved. 

But apparently they like a challenge, and a girl who doesn’t put up with their BS is basically like waving a red flag in front of a bull. 

They. All. Charged. 

But one holds my attention above the rest. 

Knox Tate looks like a Viking — and getting pillaged is starting to look more appealing by the day. Though he’s hiding something — all of them are. And the closer I get. The more I realize that some things are left better in the past.

You’ve read reverse harem books before — but you’ve never read one like this. It’s not what you think, or is it? Dive in and find out…

 Knox, Leo, Finn, and Slater are waiting, and they aren’t patient men. 

Welcome to the new face of Wingmen Inc — You’re welcome.

CoEd-AN

Buy The Book

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Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/CoEdGR 

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

RVDAuthorPic

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. 

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Connect with Rachel: 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelVanDyken
Website: http://rachelvandykenauthor.com
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Blog Tour (19)

EXCERPT

It was happening again.

The moaning.

I put a pillow over my face and screamed.

Not because it was too loud.

But because I kept wondering who was causing it. One? Two? All three? Leo and Finn had both tried to talk to me in class and at the coffee shop again. I’d brushed them off but been polite.

And Knox?

Well, let’s just say that Knox had suddenly turned over a leaf that said, “Go out of my way to make Shawn’s life miserable.”

He was suddenly everywhere.

And with a different female every single day.

It drove me insane.

Bat-shit crazy.

And he wasn’t even mine to go senseless over!

The moan happened again.

“That’s it!” I got up from my bed, stomped over to the door, and jerked it open. Then I pounded my way over to their room and almost took down the door with my knock .

When Leo answered, he grinned down at me. “Come to play?”

I gave him the finger.

His eyes narrowed. “I’m confused. Is that yes or no?”

“Agh!” I threw my hands up in the air. “I have practice tomorrow at five a.m. It’s three. I’ve had one hour of sleep. Can you please keep the moaning to a minimum?”

“You seem stressed.” He tilted his head just as Finn joined him in the doorway. “Doesn’t she?”

“Very.” Finn nodded then reached out and started massaging my right trap while Leo grabbed my hand and worked my fingers. It felt so damn good that I forgot I was pissed for about two seconds before I pulled away.

“No.” I jabbed my finger at each of their chests. “Shame on you. Stop using your skills to make me less crazy. I need sleep.”

“I could not agree more.” Leo put his hand over his chest. “If you want, I can come over and—”

“No!” I made a fist with my hands. “I don’t need you to help me sleep. I need you to keep your clients quiet so that I can sleep. Big difference.”

Knox appeared then and held out a pair of Bose noise-canceling headphones. “You can borrow them every Friday as long as you don’t set them on fire when you’re done.”

“Do you think I really want whatever STDs are crawling around the surface?” I hissed.

His eyes turned lethal. “Then I guess you won’t sleep.”

“Dun, dun, dun,” Finn sang in a low voice, just as a small lady who could pass as my grandmother made an appearance and shoved a fifty-dollar bill in Knox’s pants then patted him on his rock-hard six-pack. She had a full-on red wig perched backward on her head and cherry red cheeks with black glasses that she kept shoving up her nose. And her purse looked like something I would have seen on I Love Lucy. It was this giant black clutch that probably held cough drops and prunes.

“Thanks, boys.”

“Love you, Edna!” Finn called while Leo brushed a kiss across her hand.

She finger-waved at Knox and straight-up waddled out of the suite.

I stared after her, my jaw dropping with each step she took until she was out of eyesight.

“What…” I shook my head. “…I mean, seriously, guys, what?”

Finn’s eyes got serious. “She’s lonely.”

“She’s at least eighty!” I yelled, so exhausted I was actually arguing with crazy.

Knox got all up in my business and said through clenched teeth, “Her husband died a year ago. She’s not comfortable with internet dating yet. We’re easing her in because she wants a partner for life, someone she can laugh with, so if we can give her that one laugh, that nice touch once a week, we’re going to fucking do it. Now jump off that pedestal, take the damn Bose, and go to sleep.”

Blog Tour: The Spring Girls by Anna Todd

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SYNOPSIS

Four sisters desperately seeking the blueprints to life—the modern-day retelling of Louise May Alcott’s Little Women like only Anna Todd (After, Imagines) could do.
The Spring Girls—Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy—are a force of nature on the New Orleans military base where they live. As different as they are, with their father on tour in Iraq and their mother hiding something, their fears are very much the same. Struggling to build lives they can be proud of and that will lift them out of their humble station in life, one year will determine all that their futures can become.
The oldest, Meg, will be an officer’s wife and enter military society like so many of the women she admires. If her passion—and her reputation—don’t derail her.
Beth, the workhorse of the family, is afraid to leave the house, is afraid she’ll never figure out who she really is.
Jo just wants out. Wishing she could skip to graduation, she dreams of a life in New York City and a career in journalism where she can impact the world. Nothing can stop her—not even love.
And Amy, the youngest, is watching all her sisters, learning from how they handle themselves. For better or worse.
With plenty of sass, romance, and drama, The Spring Girls revisits Louisa May Alcott’s classic Little Women, and brings its themes of love, war, class, adolescence, and family into the language of the twenty-first century.

TSG-AN2

Buy The Book

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the spring girls cover (1)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anna Todd is the New York Times and #1 internationally bestselling author of the After series. Hailed by Cosmopolitan as “the biggest literary phenomenon of her generation,” Anna began her literary career on the social storytelling platform Wattpad. Serialized on Wattpad in 2013, After has over 1.5 billion reads on the site. The print edition, published in 2014 by Gallery Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, has over 15 million copies in circulation, has been published in over 30 languages and is a #1 bestseller in Italy, Germany, France and Spain.
A native of Ohio, Anna was a voracious reader all her life, citing Pride & Prejudice, Wuthering Heights and Fifty Shades of Grey as some of her favorites. In 2012, after discovering the world of fanfiction for fandoms like Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, The Mortal Instruments, Anna began writing as a way of continuing the stories she so loved from fanfiction community.

Connect With Anna:

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaginator1dx

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/imaginator1d/

Stay up to date with Anna by signing up for her newsletter here: https://goo.gl/KbGJ7F
http://www.annatodd.com

Blog Tour (1)

EXCERPT

Meet the Springs
Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,”
Jo declared from her spot on the rug.
She sat at the feet of her oldest sister, Meg. Jo’s long brown
hair was unruly, as it always was. She was my strong girl. She
was the only one of my girls who didn’t hog the bathroom. Her
delicate fingers, the black polish on their nails chipped, picked
at the frayed edges of the Afghan rug under her folded legs.
The hand-woven black-and-red textile had once been bright and
beautiful, and I remembered when my husband had sent it to
our house back in Texas from his former post in Kandahar, Afghanistan.
In my head, Denise’s scratchy voice reminds me to use
proper military lingo: my husband’s FOB in Kandahar. The biggest
forward operating base in Afghanistan, she would also necessarily
add. Denise was always on my case. Come to think of
it, she even had comments about the rug when I got it. She said
he could have sent it to the base and paid no fee.
None of that mattered to my girls. From the moment it arrived,
they loved that rug as much as I did. When I ripped open
the package from their dad, who had been living across the
world for the past eight months, the girls—particularly Jo—
were excited to own such a beautiful, culture-filled treasure
from the other side of the world. Meg loved that we now had
a lavish handcrafted object in our simple home. She was my
most materialistic daughter, but I always knew that if I tried
to teach her right, she would use her love of shiny things to do
something magical and worthwhile with her life. Amy was too
young to really care about the rug, and of course Beth knew
it was coming because her daddy knew that she was the only
Spring Girl who could be trusted to keep the secret. Plus, on
a more practical level, since Beth was basically homeschooled,
Frank knew she could watch out for it. Later, he explained to
me that he wanted to mail the package straight home so that
we could be treated with the rug as a surprise on our doorstep,
rather than as a pickup chore on the base. I’m not sure if I told
Denise that she would understand.
Of late, our beautiful rug wasn’t as beautiful anymore.
Dirty shoes and heavy bodies had worn it down, and the colors
blended into a mud brown that I tried my best to clean, but the
color just wouldn’t come back.
We loved it not one bit less.

Blog Tour: Duke of Desire by Elizabeth Hoyt

DukeofDesire_BlogTour

SYNOPSIS

A LADY OF LIGHT

Refined, kind, and intelligent, Lady Iris Jordan finds herself the unlikely target of a diabolical kidnapping.  Her captors are the notoriously evil Lords of Chaos.  When one of the masked-and-nude!-Lords spirits her away to his carriage, she shoots him…only to find she may have been a trifle hasty.

A DUKE IN DEEPEST DARKNESS

Cynical, scarred, and brooding, Raphael de Chartres, the Duke of Dyemore, has made it his personal mission to infiltrate the Lords of Chaos and destroy them.  Rescuing Lady Jordan was never in his plans.  But now with the Lords out to kill them both, he has but one choice: marry the lady in order to keep her safe.

CAUGHT IN A WEB OF DANGER…AND DESIRE

Much to Raphael’s irritation, Iris insists on being the sort of duchess who involes herself in his life—and bed.  Soon he’s drawn to both to her quick wit and her fiery passion.  But when Iris discovers that Raphael’s past may be even more dangerous than the present, she falters.  Is their love strong enough to withstand not only the Lords of Chaos but also Raphael’s own demons?

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Add Duke of Desire to your shelf on Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2vaU2Bp

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Elizabeth Hoyt 2017

Elizabeth Hoyt is the New York Times bestselling author of over seventeen lush historical romances including the Maiden Lane series. Publishers Weekly has called her writing “mesmerizing.” She also pens deliciously fun contemporary romances under the name Julia Harper. Elizabeth lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, with three untrained dogs, a garden in constant need of weeding, and the long-suffering Mr. Hoyt.

Be Sure To Follow Elizabeth:

www.ElizabethHoyt.com

www.twitter.com/elizabethhoyt

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Follow Elizabeth Hoyt on Amazon: http://amzn.to/2uvYH2N

Duke-of-Desire-Quote-Graphic-#2.2-NO-LOGO

EXCERPT

Desperately she flung herself at the opposite seat and tugged it up. Thrust her hand in.
A pistol.
She cocked it, desperately praying that it was loaded.
She turned and aimed it at the door to the carriage just as the door swung open.
The Wolf loomed in the doorway—still nude—a lantern in one hand. She saw the eyes behind the mask flick to the pistol she held between her bound hands. He turned his head and said something in an incomprehensible language to someone outside.
Iris felt her breath sawing in and out of her chest.
He climbed into the carriage and closed the door, completely ignoring her and the pistol pointed at him. The Wolf hung the lantern on a hook and sat on the seat across from her.
Finally he glanced at her. “Put that down.”
His voice was calm. Quiet.
With just a hint of menace.
She backed into the opposite corner, as far away from him as possible, holding the pistol up. Level with his chest. Her heart was pounding so hard it nearly deafened her. “No.”
The carriage jolted into motion, making her stumble before she caught herself.
“T-tell them to stop the carriage,” she said, stuttering with terror despite her resolve. “Let me go now.”
“So that they can rape you to death out there?” He tilted his head to indicate the Lords. “No.”
“At the next village, then.”
“I think not.”
He reached for her and she knew she had no choice.
She shot him.
The blast blew him into the seat and threw her hands up and back, the pistol narrowly missing her nose.
Iris scrambled to her feet. The bullet was gone, but she could still use the pistol as a bludgeon.
The Wolf was sprawled across the seat, blood streaming from a gaping hole in his right shoulder. His mask had been knocked askew on his face.
She reached forward and snatched it off.
And then gasped.
The face that was revealed had once been as beautiful as an angel’s but was now horribly mutilated. A livid red scar ran from just below his hairline on the right side of his face, bisecting the eyebrow, somehow missing the eye itself but gouging a furrow into the lean cheek and catching the edge of his upper lip, making it twist. The scar ended in a missing divot of flesh in the line of the man’s severe jaw. He had inky black hair and, though they were closed now, Iris knew he had emotionless crystal-gray eyes.
She knew because she recognized him.
He was Raphael de Chartres, the Duke of Dyemore, and when she’d danced with him—once—three months ago at a ball, she’d thought he’d looked like Hades.
God of the underworld.
God of the dead.
She had no reason to change her opinion now.
Then he gasped, those frozen crystal eyes opened, and he glared at her. “You idiot woman. I’m trying to save you.”

Top 5:

Favorite Classic Novels

  1. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
  2. Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie
  3. Flowers in the Wind by Laura Kinsale
  4. The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler
  5. Crocodile on the Sandbank by Elizabeth Peters

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Blog Tour: Primrose Lane by Debbie Mason

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PRIMROSE LANE by Debbie Mason

Series: Harmony Harbor, #3

On Sale: June 27, 2017

Mass Market: $7.99 USD

eBook: $5.99 USD

Add to Goodreads

Harmony Harbor

MISTLETOE COTTAGE, #1

CHRISTMAS WITH AN ANGEL, #1.5

STARLIGHT BRIDGE, #2

PRIMROSE LANE, #3

Series Page on Goodreads

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SYNOPSIS

Olivia Davenport has finally gotten her life back together. She’s left her painful past behind, started over in a new town, and become Harmony Harbor’s most sought-after event planner. But her past catches up to her when Olivia learns that she’s now guardian of her ex’s young daughter. With her world spinning, Olivia must reconcile her old life with her new one. And she doesn’t have time for her new next door neighbor, no matter how handsome he is.

Olivia may act like she’s got everything under control, but Dr. Finn Gallagher knows a person in over her head when he sees one. He’d really like to be the shoulder she leans on, but Olivia makes it clear she doesn’t want his help. Since he’s returned to town, his waiting room has been full of single women feigning illness. Yet the one woman he’s interested in is avoiding him. But with a little help from some matchmaking widows and a precocious little girl, Finn might just win Olivia over.

BONUS: The eBook edition includes a complete novel from BookShots Flames, THE MCCULLAGH INN IN MAINE by Jen McLaughlin!

BUY THE BOOK

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Google Play

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debbie Mason CREDIT Debbie Mazzura

Debbie Mason is the USA Today bestselling author of the Christmas, Colorado series. Her books have been praised for their “likable characters, clever dialogue, and juicy plots” (RT Book Reviews). When she isn’t writing or reading, Debbie enjoys spending time with her very own real-life hero, their four wonderful children, two adorable grandbabies, and a yappy Yorkie named Bella.

Be Sure To Follow Debbie

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Goodreads

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Be Sure To Follow Forever

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Pinterest

PRIMROSE-LANE-Graphic-#3.3

Primrose Lane Playlist

https://play.spotify.com/user/foreverromance/playlist/3n4iZjP2UK9adMKSUuQw4Z

  1. Rachel Platten—Stand by You
  2. Thomas Rhett—Die a Happy Man
  3. Bruno Mars—Marry You
  4. DNCE—Cake By The Ocean
  5. Lukas Graham—7 Years
  6. Train—Marry Me
  7. Chuck Wicks—Always
  8. Savage Garden—Truly Madly Deeply
  9. Ronan Keating—When You Say Nothing At All
  10. Lonestar—Amazed

PRIMROSE-LANE-Graphic-#1

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Blog Tour: My Best Friend’s Ex by Meghan Quinn

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My Best Friend’s Ex by Meghan Quinn

On Sale: June 1, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

MYBestFriendsExAmazonCover

SYNOPSIS

When I found an eviction notice taped on my apartment door, I had two options: find a comfortable cardboard box to call home, or move in with Tucker Jameson.

Seeing that cardboard makes me feel itchy, I chose the latter. Which shouldn’t be that big of a deal since Tucker is one of my good friends. And because he’s still pining after his ex-girlfriend and I’m trying to finish my nursing degree, there is nothing to worry about in the romance department, making my last semester an easy one to conquer.

Boy, was I wrong.

Rules are set, dinners are made, conversations are had, and a shirtless, swoony roommate walks around in nothing but a pair of black briefs, ruining me for every other man.

Before I know it, I turn into a panting, lust-filled woman begging for Tucker to kiss me, touch me, and show me exactly what is hiding under those briefs.

But with great orgasms, comes great consequences.

Tucker might be my friend and roommate but he’s also my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, making him completely off-limits. At least that’s what my brain is telling me, my heart is speaking an entirely different language.

MyBestFriendsEx

BUY THE BOOK

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2qsPKm5

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2r2ubLG

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2rMfc9O

Amazon AU: https://goo.gl/YZLDaW

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MeghanQuinnPhoto

A BLONDE AT HEART

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

​Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

Be Sure To Follow Meghan:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pg/meghanquinnauthor
Instagram: authormeghanquinn
Website: http://www.authormeghanquinn.com/

Sign Up for Meghan’s Newsletter: http://bit.ly/MQWrapUp

MBEteaser

EXCERPT

“Morning,” Tucker’s deep voice rattles off the cabinets. It’s his morning voice, deeper, throatier—if that makes sense—and I hate to admit it, because he’s just my friend, but sexier.

Once my pupils adjust to the light, I take Tucker in. He’s standing in front of the stove, rubber spatula in hand, wearing a white long-sleeve Henley shirt, the top two buttons undone, a pair of worn jeans with a few paint stains on them, and tan work boots. Sweet Jesus, he makes construction look good. Strap a tool belt around his waist and stick him in front of a camera for the benefit of all womankind.

“Morning,” I say in reply, using the counter to help hold up my tired body. “You’re up early. What time do you have to go into work?”

“Around seven thirty. I like to get an early start before the boys come in.” He looks me up and down, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “You look good.” He motions around his head with his hand. “I really like what you did with your hair.”

I turn toward the window in the kitchen and check out my reflection. Sure enough, my long brown hair looks like a lion’s mane poofed out and framing my face with an abundance of volume. Beautiful.

There is no use in taming it, so I leave my hair as is and turn back toward Tucker. “Not many people can get this kind of height while sleeping.” I pretend to fluff my hair.

“Impressive.” He chuckles and then points to the coffee maker with the spatula. “Coffee is done, mugs are above in the cabinet. Grab me a cup, will ya? Eggs will be done shortly, bacon is warming in the oven.”

I do as directed, thinking it’s kind of cute how he’s including me in on his little morning breakfast. “I didn’t even know you had eggs. I was expecting to hit up Dunkin’ Donuts or Tim Horton’s this morning.”

He turns off the stove and reaches for two plates from the dish rack. “I went to Walmart this morning. Picked up a few things.”

“This morning?” I pour two cups of coffee and turn toward him. “What time did you wake up?”

“Four thirty,” he answers casually. “Got a quick run in, did some weights, took a shower and then went to Walmart.” He fills our plates with bacon and eggs and then nods toward the dining room, plates and silverware in hand. “I have a surprise.”

I follow him to the dining room where he flips on the light and reveals a card table fold-out dining set.

“You got a table.” I chuckle, loving that it’s a fold-out card table with matching chairs. Anything is better than the floor.

“And placemats,” he adds, as he lifts two plastic placemats from one of the chairs. “The options were bleak so I went with dinosaurs for me and Trolls for you. Given the look of your morning hair, Trolls was the right choice.” Clever bastard. He sets them on the table and then puts our plates on top of them.

God, it’s too freaking cute. Chuckling, I take a seat and hand him his coffee. “Look at you getting all domestic. I never thought you would be a placemat kind of man, I stand corrected.”

He rests a napkin on his legs, which are spread drastically, almost the length of the table and leans over to fork some eggs into his mouth. “Didn’t want our food to damage the plastic of this high-class table.” I love the humor in his voice, it reminds me of all the good times we had, before the end of his relationship with Sadie.

“Smart man, you want this table to last.”

“Of course, you don’t see fine furniture like this in houses anymore. Everything has to be so sturdy. What ever happened to rickety furniture and living through a meal with the threat of your food possibly kissing the floor at any point in time?”

“The horror,” I joke.

He looks up at me. Some of his hair is still wet from his shower. Pointing his fork at me he says, “Are you ready to be schooled?”

“Schooled on what?” I take a bite of bacon and my stomach jumps in excitement for finally rewarding it for waking up early. All right, I will admit it, getting out of bed was a smart idea.

“It’s Monday, babe. DJ Hot Cock has his song picked and ready to show you what real music is.”

“When was my music taste ever questioned? I like good music.”

“We’ll see.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. I watch as he flips through it until he lands on the song he wants to introduce me to. He presses play and sets his phone on the table. The light pickings of a guitar fill the small dining room. I don’t recognize the song, but I like the sound of it so far.

Just as I’m settling in to the sweet pickings of a guitar, the distinct voice of Zac Brown chimes in. I’ve known Tucker for loving EMO growing up, so his choice in a country song is very surprising to me, but when I look up at him, pure hometown country boy sitting across from me, it makes perfect sense.

And then the lyrics hit me. My Old Man. Zac sings about his father, hoping he’s proud of the man he’s become. I’m transported back to a dreary day in Whitney Point, where we grew up, when Sadie called me one Saturday morning. I was getting ready for the day. We were in middle school. Tucker’s dad was killed by a head-on collision, the dad Tucker just reconnected with, the dad Tucker had plans on moving in with to get away from his neglectful mom. Those next few days—and weeks—were a whirlwind of sorrow. Attending his funeral, my first ever funeral, seeing the look of devastation on Tucker’s face, wondering what he might be feeling, trying to channel his hurt, it was so much to take on as a teenager.

Glancing up, I take in Tucker’s expression. He’s lost in the music, in the words, just like me. When the song ends, I lean over and place my hand on his, our eyes meet and there is an unspoken understanding between us. I don’t have to say anything about his dad, about the tragedy we went through so many years ago together as friends. It’s all said between this silent exchange.