Excerpt & Review: Rome’s Chance by Joanna Wylde

ROME’S CHANCE
Series: Reapers MC #6.6
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Joanna Wylde
Release Date: April 24, 2018

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Joanna Wylde comes a new story in her Reapers MC series…

Rome McGuire knew he was in trouble the first time he saw her.

She was sweet and pretty and just about perfect in every way. She was also too young and innocent for the Reapers Motorcycle Club. He did the right thing, and walked away.

The second time, he couldn’t resist tasting her.

Gorgeous and smart, fun and full of wonder, she jumped on his bike and would’ve followed him anywhere. Still, she deserved a shot at happiness somewhere bigger and better than a town like Hallies Falls. Walking away wasn’t so easy that time, but her family needed her and he had a job to do.

When she came around a third time, he’d had enough. Randi Whittaker had been given two chances to escape, and now it was time for Rome to take his.

This time, the only way Randi would be leaving Hallies Falls was on the back of Rome’s bike.

AMAZON

Chemistry.

This was pure chemistry, and we’d had it from the very first. Our eyes had met across that keg and it was all over… Now Rome’s eyes found mine again, and that same spark I was feeling flared in their depths.

“F*ck, you’re beautiful,” he said, his face softening. I blinked, every bit as mesmerized as I’d felt at the grocery store. He leaned forward, still sitting on the bike, and caught my hand, pulling me toward him. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

“Yes, please,” I whispered, brain fully disengaged. His hand came up and caught the back of my head, then our lips met and I died a little.

He’d kissed me twice before, years ago. Those kisses had been soft. Devastating and intense, but very gentle. Sweet.

This was totally different. This came hard and fast, his mouth overwhelming mine with a powerful, masculine hunger I hadn’t expected. His tongue thrust against the seam of my lips, and when I didn’t immediately open, his teeth followed, nipping just enough to startle me. I gasped, and then he was inside.

There was nothing sweet about him right now.

Rome’s hand twisted in my hair, holding my head captive as his tongue pushed inside my mouth. Fire exploded through me, a deep well of heat settling between my legs. My hands reached up to catch his shoulders and then I was all in, giving as good as he gave me.

His other arm came around my waist, crushing me against him. This wasn’t nearly as awkward as it should’ve been, considering he was still on the bike. Maybe we could just skip dinner. Go straight to the fun part of the date…

A loud honking and the sound of someone screaming “Wooohooo!” from a passing car jolted me out of the moment. I pushed against his shoulders. Rome let me step back, although he kept his arm around my body. His eyes were smoky with lust, and I thought I saw the hint of a flush showing underneath the tan of his cheeks.

Yup, the feeling was definitely mutual.

This isn’t about getting laid, Randi. I just want it clear—I’m staking my claim. I missed out the first time we met. I won’t let it happen again.”

Man but does it feel good to be back in Wylde’s Reapers MC world. And while this novella is set in the series, you can easily read it as a standalone. While you do see some cameos from earlier books, it’s not too engrained in the the MC world, so you don’t miss many nuances not having read the books. Though, I’d still highly recommend them simply because they’re awesome! But I digress.

Rome’s Chance is set several years after the events in Reaper’s Fire. The first time Randi and Rome meet, he was only a prospect for the club and she was too sweet and innocent for him. The fires tearing through their town took the majority of his attention. But when they run into each other again, he knows he’s not letting her a second time. He’s ready to stake his claim, whether she is or not.

Chemistry. Pure chemistry. I’d felt it when he’d kissed me. I’d known we’d be incredible together. But Rome wanted more than sex—he wanted me. Whatever this was, it was just the beginning.

Randi has always been the caretaker of her family. With a mother that never took her responsibilities seriously, she’s been taking care of her younger siblings. Now back in town to take care of her ailing mother, she doesn’t think she’ll be sticking around for long. But Rome changes everything. Even if she tries to fight things between them.

Rome’s Chance was a quick albeit an entirely satisfying read full of chemistry and heat. It hit the spot just write and whet my appetite for more Reapers. If you’re looking for a sexy novella to spend a weekend afternoon with, look no further!

Joanna Wylde started her writing career in journalism, working in two daily newspapers as both a reporter and editor. Her career has included many different jobs, from managing a homeless shelter to running her own freelance writing business, where she took on projects ranging from fundraising to ghostwriting for academics. During 2012 she got her first Kindle reader as a gift and discovered the indie writing revolution taking place online. Not long afterward she started cutting back her client list to work on Reaper’s Property, her breakout book. It was published in January 2013, marking the beginning of a new career writing fiction.

Joanna lives in the mountains of northern Idaho with her family.

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Review & Excerpt: Hawkyn by Larissa Ione

HAWKYN
Series:
Demonica Underworld #5
Genre:
Paranormal Romance
Author:
Larissa Ione
Release Date:
February 27, 2018

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Larissa Ione comes a new story in her Demonica Underworld series…

As a special class of earthbound guardian angel called Memitim, Hawkyn is charged with protecting those whose lives are woven into the fabric of the future. His success is legendary, so when he’s given a serial killer to watch over, he sees no reason for that to change. But Hawkyn’s own future is jeopardized after he breaks the rules and rescues a beautiful woman from the killer’s clutches, setting off an explosive, demonic game of cat and mouse that pits brother against brother and that won’t end until someone dies.

Aurora Mercer is the half-wytch lone survivor of a psychopath who gets off on the sadistic torture of his victims. A psychopath whose obsessive psyche won’t let him move on until he kills her. Now she’s marked for death, her fate tied to that of a murderer…and to a sexy angel who makes her blood burn with desire…

**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**

 AMAZON



God, what was it going to be like to have all that intensity focused on her? Touching her? Inside her? All he had to do was look at her and she shivered with violent tingles.The cold air in this drafty castle just got warmer. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Warn me.”

She huffed. “When I said not to say I didn’t warn you… I was warning you.”

His lazy, lopsided smile made her groan. He was teasing her. She loved these glimpses, brief as they were, into his off-duty personality. He’d been on the go since they’d met, in a constant state of motion, and despite the shitty circumstances, it was nice to see him relax a little.

Of course, that could have something to do with the ninety-proof bottle of attitude adjuster in his hand.

She eyed her own glass of liquid bravery, but really, she didn’t need it. Even if her succubus genes weren’t already going to work, preparing her body with a hot rush of desire, she’d want Hawkyn.

And she’d want to help him.

As he gulped down another swig of vodka, she set her glass on the little end table and turned to him.

“Here’s another warning.” She pulled her shirt up over her head. “Some scenes may be too intense for young viewers.” She tossed the shirt onto the mattress and reached around to unhook her bra.

“What are you doing?” he croaked, the vodka bottle frozen a few inches from his mouth.

“Sex. That’s the fast method.” She dropped the bra on the mattress and flushed at the way he stared at her exposed breasts. “You game?”

For a long, tortured moment, he said nothing. Oh, God, what if he refused her? How embarrassing. She’d made a huge mistake, and she looked like a desperate fool.

Choking on humiliation, she lifted her hands to cover herself, but he shook his head.

“Don’t.” His voice was a low growl, sultry and dark, so resonant it hit her between her legs. “You’re beautiful.”

“Does this mean—”

He was on her before she could finish. His lips came down on hers and his body pressed her into the cold stone wall and both his hands gripped her shoulders so firmly she figured she’d have bruises later.

Awesome.

 

At this moment, he seemed to be both angel and demon, because what he was doing to her was nothing short of evil, but he was so damned good at it. 

It’s no secret that I’m obsessed with all things Larissa Ione writes. Having read her entire backlist, I don’t think there’s been one book of hers that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy, and this one was no exception. While the story is set in her Demonica world, new readers wouldn’t feel lost. There’s plenty of background, the characters are not ones that have previously introduced, and while part of a series, it’s a solid standalone as well. Though I’d still highly recommend the rest of the Demonica series because it’s just that awesome. But I digress.

Hawkyn is a Memitim; a special breed of earthbound angel that was raised by humans. His father is the powerful ruler of the underworld, Azagoth. But that doesn’t mean that he still doesn’t need to earn his way into heaven by doing his job. His duty is to protect his Primori. Unfortunately for Hawkyn, his Primori happens to be a deranged serial killer and he can’t interfere with destiny. That is, not until his accidental interference causes his Primori to abduct a woman that he can’t stop thinking about.

Aurora Mercer is a wytch; a fascinating hybrid of witch and succubus. She doesn’t know if she can trust the handsome angel that rescued her from the hands of a monster, but she doesn’t have much of a choice when she’s still hunted by the man determined to finish his job.

The chemistry between Aurora and Hawkyn is instant and sizzling, in only a way that Larissa Ione can write. But their relationship is a delicious slow burn that keeps you at the edge of your seat. I couldn’t get enough of these two together. I love Ione’s rich world building and all the characters that she’s created. And while Hawkyn brings mention some of my past favorites, there’s also some new faces that are introduced as well. I loved getting the additional development of Azagoth and Lili’s story. If you haven’t read their book, I can’t recommend it enough: Azagoth.

As for this one? For a short novella, it was incredibly satisfying, well developed and perfectly paced. It offers plenty of action, with a dash of sizzle, and a total page turner from beginning to finish. If you’re looking for a quick and sexy PNR read, you really can’t go wrong!

Larissa Ione is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. An Air Force veteran, she traded in a career as a meteorologist to pursue her passion of writing. She now spends her days in pajamas with her computer, strong coffee, and supernatural worlds. She believes in celebrating everything, and would never be caught without a bottle of Champagne chilling in the fridge…just in case. She currently lives in Wisconsin with her U.S. Coast Guard husband, her teenage son, a rescue cat named Vegas, and her very own hellhound, a King Shepherd named Hexe.

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New Release Spotlight, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway: Forsaken by @booksbygray

FORSAKEN
Genre: Contemporary MM Romance
Author: J.R. Gray
Release: February 26, 2018 

Titus has lived and breathed religion his entire life, tucked away from the rest of the world in a compound in northern Wyoming.

He’s destined to be the next leader of the church, deemed so by the Prophet.

God spoke and with His word He created.

But God made a mistake.

Titus isn’t worthy.

He was born sick and it’s solidified when he rescues the most beautiful man he’s ever seen.

Torn between fidelity to his faith or his soul, Titus must reconcile the two parts of himself before he’s discovered hiding among the chosen.

 

AMAZON 

Angel was up on his knees, and he took Titus’ face in his hands. Titus’ heart sped up, and the scene from his workshop replayed in his head. Angel didn’t move. He looked into Titus’ eyes. Titus needed something to happen. More than this moment frozen in time. He wanted Angel to either put space between them or kiss him, but the wait was going to make his heart explode.

“Is this okay?” Angel asked.

“Is what okay?” Titus had a hard time getting words out. He had a hard time making his brain function with Angel’s hands on him.

Angel laughed and scooted his body closer so their legs were pressed together. “Me touching you.”

“Yes.” His voice was unsteady.

“What about this?” Angel put his other hand on the side of Titus’ neck.

“Sure.” Titus swallowed past the lump in his throat, and was happy for the way he was sitting because he was as hard as he’d ever been in his entire life. Harder maybe.

“What about this?” Angel whispered over his lips and then brought them together.

This wasn’t like back at his workshop. Angel parted his lips and used his tongue. Titus was left trying to keep up. As soon as he got the hang of something, Angel would change it. He’d done a little necking with girls, but this was completely different. He hadn’t been turned on while kissing those girls. It was more like something to do just to try it, but this was heat, and his entire body reacted. There wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t flushed and on fire.

Angel’s fingers slid around to the back of his neck and tightened, keeping Titus close. He grabbed Angel’s bicep, needing something to hold on to so he didn’t spin out of control. Angel seemed to like it, groaning

When not staying up all night writing, J.R. Gray can be found at the gym where it’s half assumed he is a permanent resident to fulfill his self-inflicted masochism. A dominant and a pilot, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. He frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns and conversations, to jot down notes or plot bunnies. Commas are the bane of his existence even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder. If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave, insanity or both. The idea of haunting has always appealed to him. J.R. Gray is genderqueer and prefers he/him pronouns.

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Review & Excerpt: The Coaching Hours by Sara Ney

THE COACHING HOURS
Series: 
How to Date a Douchebag #4
Genre: New Adult Romance
Author: Sara Ney
Release Date: February 5, 2018

THERE ARE NO DOUCHEBAGS IN THIS STORY.

Well, there are, but they’re not who this story is about.

This story is about me—the coach’s daughter.

When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university’s take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie—living with my father would be temporary, and he’d make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone.

Wrong on both counts.

ASSHOLES ALWAYS COME OUT OF THE WOODWORK WHEN THE STAKES ARE HIGH.

A bet is placed, and I’m on the table. After one humiliating night and too much alcohol, I find the last nice guy on campus. And when he offers to rent me his spare bedroom, I go all in. It’s time for the nice guy to finish first.

Midnight chats and spilling my problems turn to lingering touches. Lingering touches turn to more.

And the ultimate good guy has the potential do more damage than any douchebags ever could.

AMAZON 

She perks up. “Wait, you’ve never had a back massage?”“No?”

“Ever?”

“Nope.”

“Well, what the hell? How can I, in good conscience, lie here letting you rub my back when you’ve never had anyone rub yours?” She scoots over, pointing to the mattress. “Lie on your stomach, I’ll do you first.”

I wave my hands in front of me in protest. The last thing I need is her warm hands roaming my body. “No, no, you don’t have to. It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you crazy? Back massages are the best—like, better than an orgasm. You’re first, so lie down.”

“And you call me the bossy one?”

“Quit stalling and get on the bed.”

Obediently, I climb to the middle of my bed in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, legs hanging off the side. Next to me, the mattress dips, Anabelle on her knees, approaching my side.

A finger glides down my spine. “It will be easier for me to do this if I’m sitting on you. Hope that’s okay.”

“Is that the approved method?”

“No, but my arms will get tired if I have to lean over you the whole time.”

“Do whatever then, I don’t care.”

I stiffen when Anabelle swings one leg over my body, straddling my ass. Warm palms at my lower back.

“You’re so tense. Try to relax,” she coos, making it worse. “Tilt your head to the side, that’s it.”

I hear the lotion bottle snap open. Click closed. My roommate’s palms rubbing together, warming it up. “Sorry, I don’t have any actual massage oil. This will have to do.”

When her hands make contact with my back, I almost groan it feels so fucking good. Warm. Smooth. Pressure in all the right places, pushing gently into my muscles.

Slowly.

Slower still, caressing along my shoulders, thumbs and fingers working together to soothe the burning on my right side.

“Doesn’t this feel great?” Her soft voice cuts into the silence. “You’re loosening up. That’s good.”

I feel her leaning as her hands move up and down my spine until they stop, hovering at the base of my neck. Thumbs stroking the skin below my hairline, back and forth.

Kneading.

Her torso dips, hands maneuvering my arms, placing them at my sides. Palms slide up and down my biceps.

For several minutes, she rubs my arms and shoulders. Then she skims down my ribcage unhurriedly, in no rush, making little humming sounds inside her throat.

I know I’m not imagining the feather-light way her hands drift down my spine. I remain still, letting her touch me, basking in it.

Remain still when her lips kiss the tender spot of my shoulder where it meets my neck, nose nuzzling behind my ear, her breasts rubbing against my back and what the fuck was that all about? What does she think she’s doing, trying to drive me insane?

 

A heart is racing but I’m not sure if it’s his or mine. I’m not sure whose heart is beating fastest.

This final installment in the Douchebag series was the complete antithesis of why I was originally hooked on it. There are no douchebags, no cocky jock hero, no hate lust, no enemies to lovers vibes. But what it did have was a swoony, slow burn friend to lovers story that was full of sizzle and smiles.

There are no jocks to be found in this book. Well, not the main character anyway. But there is the coach’s daughter, her friendship with a guy that she didn’t see coming, and the development of their relationship from something sweet to something with a lot more sizzle.

I love a good friends to lovers trope, and this one delivered in spades. The progression of the relationship in this book was what really made it for me. It was just so perfectly paced. I loved getting a nice guy for once, though that’s not to say he was without his own brand of issues. And while the book took a turn into a particular plot device that I’m not typically a fan of, it totally worked for me here. I also loved a particular secondary character that gets redeemed in this story. This served as the perfect icing on the cake.

This story was cute and swoony, and definitely hit the spot just right. There’s a reason this author went straight to my auto-buy list from the very first book in this series; her versatility to deliver amazing characters that stand out in their own right is just a small part of it. I’m sad to see this series come to an end, but I can’t wait to see what Sara Ney has in store for her readers next.


Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte’s, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.

She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.

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Blog Tour: Midnight Valentine by JT Geissinger

MIDNIGHT VALENTINE
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
Author:
J.T. Geissinger
Release Date:
February 6, 2018

A hauntingly powerful love story in the tradition of The Notebook and The Time Traveler’s Wife.

“How can you remember someone you’ve never met?”

Megan and Cassidy were childhood sweethearts who thought they’d be together forever, but fate had other plans. Soon after they were married, Cass’s life was tragically cut short. Still grieving her soul mate five years later, Megan moves to the small town of Seaside, Oregon, hoping to rebuild her life.

Her first night there, she meets the town recluse, Theo. Withdrawn, guarded, and mysteriously silent since a terrible accident left him scarred, Theo takes an instant and inexplicable dislike to Megan. But as their paths cross again and again, Megan becomes convinced there’s more to Theo than meets the eye.

When she discovers the reason for his silence, his nightmares, and especially his pointed dislike, Megan becomes convinced of something far more astonishing.

Is a second chance at a once-in-a-lifetime love possible, or is a broken heart the cruelest kind of liar?

AMAZON

After the warmth of the house, the rain beckons to me. I cross the patio and step out on to the grass. It’s springy beneath my feet, pleasant to walk on. I go about ten yards out, past the reach of the lights, then stop, close my eyes, and lift my face to the rain.

I open my mouth to catch a few cool, sweet drops on my tongue. I hear muffled laughter and music from inside, the sound of voices floating to me on the night air. Then I hear the words that haunt me the most, the thing Cass used to whisper into my ear every night before we fell asleep in each other’s arms. The last thing he said to me before he died.

I love you, sweet pea. I’ll love you ’til the end of time.

How long will it be until I can no longer remember the sound of his voice? How many years does it take to forget the love of your life? Will I wake up one day and the memory of his kiss have vanished, trampled to dust by the relentless forward march of time?

“Babe,” I whisper, my heart twisting. “I miss you so much. Why did you leave me?”

A tingle like a mild electric shock zings up my spine. From one heartbeat to the next, I realize I’m not alone.

My eyes fly open. I swing around and look back toward the house. I’m momentarily blinded by the lights, but when my eyes adjust, I see a figure in the shadows leaning against one side of the columns that support the patio.

It’s a man. A big man with wide shoulders and long legs. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his black raincoat. The hood of the raincoat is pulled over his head, but even in the shadows I can see the glint of his dark eyes.

He stares at me with an unblinking gaze, his expression grim.

Theo.

As if he heard his name in my mind, he straightens. He pulls his hands from his pockets and stands there staring at me with his hands flexed open like some kind of psychopath about to pounce on me and wring my neck.

That doesn’t scare me so much as piss me off. I call out, “Lurk much, pal?”

When he doesn’t respond—because, oh, yeah, talking isn’t his thing—I take a few steps toward him. Simultaneously, he takes a few steps back. When I stop, he stops. Then we stare at each other while I try to decide if I should find a rock to throw at him or calm down and act like an adult.

I’m embarrassed he caught me standing alone in the rain, talking to myself, but it isn’t his fault I’m strange.

When his gaze sweeps over me, snagging on my chest before flashing back up to my face, I realize several things at once.

One, I’m not wearing a bra. Unlike Suzanne’s double Ds, my B cups don’t require scaffolding to hold them up. Two, I’ve been standing in the rain in a white T-shirt, which means, three, I’m probably giving this non-talking Theo quite a show.

I hunch my shoulders, grab my shirt, and pull it away from my stomach, trying to make all that look nonchalant.

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t look away. He just stands there, staring, his jaw like granite and his black eyes burning holes into my head.

The tingle in my spine increases until it feels like an itch.

A former headhunter, J.T. Geissinger is the author of more than a dozen novels in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense.

She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. Her work has also finaled in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards.

Join her Facebook reader’s group, Geissinger’s Gang, to take part in weekly Wine Wednesday live chats and giveaways, find out more information about works in progress, have access to exclusive excerpts and contests, and get advance reader copies of her upcoming releases.

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Blog Tour, Excerpt & Review: Sky’s The Limity by Elle Aycart

SKY’S THE LIMIT
Series: Doomsday Preppers #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Elle Aycart
Release Date: January 16, 2018

Tired of waiting for her big break in the fashion industry, Sky Gonzalez, eternal part-time student and overworked retail drone, quits her job, sublets her New York apartment, and embarks on a semester abroad study program in Paris. Paris! Time to throw caution to the winds and jump-start her dreams. What’s the worst that could happen?

How about getting sent to the wrong Paris? As in Paris-frigging-Minnesota?

Bye-bye career dreams. Bye-bye glamour and haute couture. Hello flannel shirts, mind-numbing cold, zero bars on the cell phone, and socially challenged mountain men with tons of unruly facial hair.

So yeah, let the truck barreling her way hit her, please. Less painful.

Logan should have dodged the little lost waif and kept on driving. Who in their right mind walked in the middle of the road, dressed in white from head to high heels, during a snowstorm? Clueless city girls, that’s who. Sky is all that Logan has gladly left behind: stylish, cosmopolitan, and a massive pain in the butt. He wouldn’t trade a single day in his quirky little corner of the woods for all the high-maintenance beauties the city can offer.

Too bad this beauty has been deemed a health hazard and quarantined in his house. Damn his doomsday-prepper neighbors and their paranoid emergency protocols. Now he has to keep Sky in and the pandemic squad out until the roads are clear. The question is, will that happen before or after Sky realizes she’s under house arrest?

Ah, the best-laid plans…

AMAZON | iBOOKS | KOBO

Logan addressed the pandemic squad up on the platform. “Sorry to break it to you. This is a free country. You can’t go quarantining people at will.”

“Wrong. Exactly because this is a free country, we can.”

There were some mumbles of agreement from the crowd, “That’s right” and “You got it” and “Try to stop us.”

“We live in a democracy. Let’s take a vote,” Carol suggested. “All in favor of quarantining Patient Zero, please raise your hands.”

Everyone, including a smirking Ty, raised their hands.

“Oh, come on,” Logan grumbled. “Really? You serious?”

“Motion accepted,” Carol said, wrestling the gavel from the mayor and banging it on the podium.

“Besides, Patient Zero doesn’t have to know she’s been quarantined. Just keep her indoors by any means necessary until she gets better.”

“Or she kicks the bucket,” somebody chimed in.

Nuts. The whole bunch of them. Down to the very last one.

“She’s not Patient Zero, people. Her name is Sky and she’s got the flu, damn it. Not Ebola. Just a common, garden-variety flu.”

“By our calculations, Patient Zero has been here almost twenty-four hours. We’re late on containment,” Carol said.

Logan shook his head in dismay. Man, like talking to a wall.

“You had her hidden away for a whole day?” Ty asked impishly.

“She was just sleeping on my sofa.” Logan realized his mistake right away and turned to Carol and the rest. “You are not burning my sofa. Are we clear?”

Whether it was clear or not, Logan didn’t know, because Carol ignored his words. “And we’ll be monitoring you,” she added while the rest nodded. “At the slightest indication you’re sick—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll quarantine me too, and if I don’t get better fast enough, you’ll shoot me and cremate my remains.” Along with the damn couch, of course.

Carol rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly.”

“Yeah, don’t be silly,” someone interjected. “We’ll autopsy you before that. Dissect you into tiny pieces.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Why couldn’t his neighbors have been the gearheads prepping for solar flares that would fry the grid? More kumbaya. Less ready to dissect.

“This is all your fault, Megan,” he said to his sister, who was sitting two rows behind him. “Couldn’t you have moved somewhere else? A normal fucking place?”

She just laughed. “You heard the lady. Keep Patient Zero indoors—by any means necessary.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“What? Skills too rusty to keep a woman indoors?” she asked.

“I can help,” Ty added. “Is she pretty?”

Gorgeous, actually. Big, dark eyes. Olive-colored skin. Delicate features. But that was beside the point too.

“Fuck off, both of you,” Logan muttered. Raising his voice, he addressed the crowd again. “You’re certifiable. All of you.”

“I totally agree,” Carol said. “We give you far too much leeway. Look at how flexible we’ve been about your toxic contaminants.”

I knew you were kinky. Bearded men always are.”

Sky’s The Limit was a quirky, cute and sweet romance with just the right amount of sizzle and plenty of laughs. It was nothing like I expected and a total step away from what I’m used to from this author, but an entertaining and satisfying read nonetheless.

Where had she gone wrong? She’d had a nice, comfortable city life. Friday meant cosmopolitans, sexy clothes, and a fancy date with dinner and dancing. Hot sex if she was lucky. Now? She was in the middle of nowhere, getting ready for an evacuation drill, her mascara down her chest, her hair a mess, and her clit hurting like a bitch from not coming. No dinner. No dancing.

A paperwork error switching Sky Gonzalez’s Paris, France internship to Paris, Minnesota is bad enough. But then her car breaks down in the middle of No Name, Minnesota in a snow storm and lands her smack dab into survivalist territory. Meeting a bunch of kooky people prepping for the end of the world is one thing. But living amongst them as she tries to figure out her next step? Well that’s a whole different thing entirely.

Enter bearded sexy guy that offers her a solution to her problems by allowing her to crash at his house. But how can she trust a man that the locals refer to as the Alchemist? And the inconvenient attraction between them certainly doesn’t help matters.

This was a slow paced, character driven story that admittedly didn’t keep me riveted to the pages. Don’t get me wrong, it was cute and entertaining, but it also wasn’t something I had a problem putting down. I enjoyed the kooky side characters and the even kookier town. I enjoyed the slow burn romance between Sky and Logan. I even found myself googling all the beauty hacks Sky had up her sleeve throughout the story. Logan was an equal amount of sweet and sexy. He’s definitely got his share of baggage courtesy of his pretentious ex wife, but he was still the perfect amount of swoony.

While I can’t say this was my favorite book from the author, it was definitely intriguing enough to have me read the rest of the series. If you’re looking for something different, light hearted, and with plenty of bearded sizzle, definitely pick this one up.

After a colorful array of jobs all over Europe ranging from translator to chocolatier to travel agent to sushi chef to flight dispatcher, Elle Aycart is certain of one thing and one thing only: aside from writing romances, she has abso-frigging-lutely no clue what she wants to do when she grows up. Not that it stops her from trying all sorts of crazy stuff. While she is probably now thinking of a new profession, her head never stops churning new plots for her romances. She lives currently in Barcelona, Spain, with her husband and two daughters, although who knows, in no time she could be living at the Arctic Circle in Finland, breeding reindeer.

Elle loves to hear from readers!

elleaycart@gmail.com

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New Release & Exclusive Excerpt: Relay by @LaylaReyne

RELAY
Series: Changing Lanes #1
Genre: M/M Contemporary Sports Romance
Author: Layla Reyne
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Release Date (Print & Ebook): January 8th, 2018
Length (Print & Ebook): ~ 63,000 words

Captain is not a title Alejandro “Alex” Cantu takes lightly. Elected by his teammates to helm the US Men’s Swim Team, he proudly accepts the role, despite juggling endless training, team administrative work, and helping out on the family farm. And despite his ex-lover, Dane Ellis—swimming’s biggest star—also making the Olympic Team.

Dane has been a pawn in his celebrity parents’ empire from crib to pool, flashing his camera-ready smile on demand and staying deeply in the closet. Only once did he drop the act—the summer he fell in love with Alex. Ten years later, Dane longs to cut his parents’ strings, drop his too-bright smile, and beg Alex for another chance.

Alex, though, isn’t ready to forgive and forget, and Dane is a distraction he doesn’t need on his team, until an injury forces Alex to accept Dane as his medley relay anchor. Working together, their passion reignites. When Dane’s parents threaten reprisal and Alex is accused of doping, the two must risk everything to prove Alex’s innocence, to love one another, and to win back their spots on the team, together.

AMAZON | RIPTIDE PUBLISHING

What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Dane turned and tried his hardest to ignore the fact that Alex was dripping wet from a shower and dressed only in damp boxer briefs. “Celebrating.”

By getting drunk? Aren’t you having enough trouble with the altitude?”

You worry about you. I’ll worry about me.”

And you just offered booze to Jacob, who’s underage and barely recovered from the last round of hazing. So yes, I’m going to worry about my team, which you are also on.”

Simmer heated to boiling again—anger, resentment, jealousy, and desire blazing—and Dane leaned into his captain’s face, inciting him. “Bet you wish I wasn’t.”

Showing more restraint than he had the other day, Alex pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw, holding in whatever he wanted to say.

Dane bent to pick up his bag. “Ever the self-sacrificing diplomat.”

A strong hand gripped his arm and hauled him back up. “You’re right,” Alex spat. “I wish you weren’t on my team. You might be the fastest, but you’re a privileged ass who thinks he owns this place when all you do is cause trouble. Between the press in our locker room, the sponsors telling us how to do our jobs, and you hazing other teammates, you are not worth it.”

What’d you say?”

You. Are. Not. Worth. It.” Alex punctuated each word with a shove to his chest, harder than before, backing Dane into the corner of the lockers.

Dane seethed and a rare curse rolled off his tongue. “Fuck you, Cantu.”

Alex wore a grin smug enough to match Dane’s earlier one. “You wish.”

Truer words had never been spoken. And Dane reacted to erase them.

With a fist to Alex’s face.

Author Layla Reyne was raised in North Carolina and now calls San Francisco home. She enjoys weaving her bi-coastal experiences into her stories, along with adrenaline-fueled suspense and heart pounding romance. When she’s not writing stories to excite her readers, she downloads too many books, watches too much television, and cooks too much food with her scientist husband, much to the delight of their smushed-face, leftover-loving dogs.

 Author Tagline: Adrenaline-Fueled Romance

 

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Excerpt: Three Blind Dates by Meghan Quinn

THREE BLIND DATES
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
Author: Meghan Quinn
Release Day: January 4th, 2018

“Good Morning Malibu, it’s another beautiful day on the west coast! I’m Noely Clark, your host: and I’m in the market for love…”

When the publicity team of the new local restaurant, Going in Blind, began their search for a hot, local celebrity to promote the wildly popular eatery, they couldn’t have found a better person than me.

Outgoing? Check.
Single? Check.
Open to finding love? Check.

I signed up immediately.

A hopeless romantic with an exceedingly demanding schedule, I’ve found it impossible to find the man of my dreams—so Going in Blind seems too good to be true! That’s until they start setting me up on dates—three very different, very attractive, very distinct blind dates—and only one thing is for certain . . .

I’m in big trouble.

Good Morning Malibu,
I’m Noely Clark, and I have a choice to make.
The question is who will I choose; the suit, the rebel, or the jock

AMAZON | AMAZON PAPERBACK

I didn’t realize how close I was to the restaurant because I’m ten minutes early. Does that make me seem desperate? No, I chastise myself. It shows that I respect the other person’s time . . . right?God, dating is the worst. There are so many unspoken rules you have to follow to not look desperate, or to not look like a psycho, or a creep, or horny, or—

“Can I help you, miss?”

Straightening up, I turn toward the hostess stand, which is a beautifully carved piece of wood. Standing behind it is an exotic, tall woman with long black hair, stunning grey eyes, and a massive engagement ring on her hand. Please tell me she got that rock from dating someone in this program.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that happiness for my life is dependent on getting married, but to see a success story in the flesh—particularly for me—would be encouraging.

“Hi, yes, I’m Noely Clark. I have a date at seven tonight with”—I lean forward, feeling silly and whisper—“with WindsorKnot.”

Her smile is kind and reassuring, making me feel a little calmer. “Yes, Miss Clark, I have you here for seven. You’re date hasn’t arrived yet, so can I show you to the bar for a drink while you wait?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

With my clutch tucked under my arm, I follow tall, dark, and beautiful to the bar where a very handsome Asian man is standing with a towel draped over his shoulder and a bright grin on his face. He’s wearing a button-up shirt with rolled sleeves, a brown vest covering his chest, which totally channels his inner Justin Timberlake.

“Danny, this is Miss Clark. She has a reservation at seven. Would you be so kind to make her whatever drink she would like?”

“Of course.” He winks at the hostess who presses her warm hand on my arm.

“Enjoy, Miss Clark. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. My name is Veronica, this is Danny, and we will be happy to serve you in any way.” With a parting grin, she moves back to her hostess spot.

Well, she’s nice.

“Miss Clark, please take a seat. What would you like?”

My tight, formfitting red dress makes my hop onto the bar stool a difficult task, but with a pleading prayer to the dress gods and a swift jump, I situate myself, only breaking a minor sweat.

I let out a sigh of relief and place my hands on the bar in front of me, scanning the glitzy bottles of “muscle relaxant.” “Hmm . . . how about a Moscow Mule?”

“Coming right up.” He gets to work and I watch as he magically floats around the bar, pulling the ingredients. “We recently bought new copper mugs, and I’ve been dying to use them.”

“Yeah? Am I the first?”

Winking, he says, “You are.”

If I didn’t know any better, I would say Danny is a bit of a flirt. Either that or he’s super friendly. Or simply made to be a bartender.

From beneath the bar, Danny pulls out a shiny, hammered-copper mug, and I’m instantly taken by the design. So sleek, just like its surroundings. The restaurant, with its white exposed brick, natural wood features, electric colors, and stone tabletops, is sexy, yet inviting. The friendly waitstaff is an absolute bonus. Every table is cornered off in its own spot, never getting too close to the other tables around it, and the mood lighting is on point with dim Edison bulb lights hanging from the ceiling and tabletop candles. I’m feeling the mood.

Despite the welcoming atmosphere, I can’t help but feel nervous, even after my brief exchange with WindsorKnot. There’s something to say about a blind date: the anticipation, the unknown, the knowledge that you’re having dinner with someone to possibly form a romantic relationship. It’s intimidating, but exhilarating all at the same time.

Could this be the last time I ever go on a first date? Will he like me? Will he want to get to know me?

Butterflies float around in my stomach and my cheeks heat as Danny places a napkin in front of me, topped by my drink with a lime slice on the side.

“Here you go, Miss Clark. Please enjoy.”

I smile politely. “Thank you.” When I take a sip, I’m instantly assaulted by the ginger-lime combination. Perfect. “This is fantastic.”

“Good.” Danny winks again and like an old-time bartender, starts drying a tumbler with the towel hanging over his shoulder. Eyeing me for a second, he asks, “A little nervous?”

After taking a sip from my drink, I lick my lips and nod. “Just a little.” I scrunch my nose, squinting ever so slightly. “Is it obvious?”

“Nah, you look pretty chill compared to a lot of blind daters I see come through the door.”

“Oh, I’m sure you see a lot of different reactions to these dates.” I lean forward, the cold wood of the bar cooling my sweaty hands, and whisper, “Any good stories you can tell me?”

Danny chuckles quietly and leans forward himself, taking a look from side to side before answering. “Plenty, but looks like your date just arrived.”

My date just arrived?

The temperature in the room seems to go up a thousand degrees as my body seizes and my shoulders tense. “Oh God, can you see him? Is he hot? What does he look like? Should I turn around? No, I shouldn’t, he would know I was checking him out.” Whispering a little louder, I ask again, “Just tell me, is he cute?”

Danny’s eyes scan over my head and his smile stretches across his face. “That’s for you to judge, not me.” Damn you, Danny.

Oh Christ, I’m not ready.

That’s right, I’m not freaking ready for this.

I get it, I know I said I was ready, that I wanted to do this, that I was all-in, that I wanted to find my soul mate, but now that I’m here, seconds from meeting “the one,” I’m pretty sure I’m going to throw up. Yep, I’m going to throw up. I can feel it rising.

Oh God, I’m going to retch all over him, right on his shoes. I know it. It’s bound to happen.

“Relax, you’re going to have fun,” Danny whispers before he turns to the bottles behind him.

As if the light hairs on my arm can sense it, they stand at attention as the sound of faint footsteps come closer.

Click, click, click. The cement floor leaves zero room for sneaking up on anyone.

Don’t throw up, don’t throw up. Think compliments, think pleasantries, think—

“Hello.”

Smooth molasses drips over my shoulders as the most velvet of voices I’ve ever heard echoes behind me, pulling me away from the death grip on my copper mug and turning me in my seat to face one of the most handsome and polished men I’ve ever seen.

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!

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Spotlight & Exclusive Excerpt: Relay by @LaylaReyne

RELAY
Series: Changing Lanes #1
Genre: M/M Contemporary Sports Romance
Author: Layla Reyne
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Release Date (Print & Ebook): January 8th, 2018
Length (Print & Ebook): ~ 63,000 words

Captain is not a title Alejandro “Alex” Cantu takes lightly. Elected by his teammates to helm the US Men’s Swim Team, he proudly accepts the role, despite juggling endless training, team administrative work, and helping out on the family farm. And despite his ex-lover, Dane Ellis—swimming’s biggest star—also making the Olympic Team.

Dane has been a pawn in his celebrity parents’ empire from crib to pool, flashing his camera-ready smile on demand and staying deeply in the closet. Only once did he drop the act—the summer he fell in love with Alex. Ten years later, Dane longs to cut his parents’ strings, drop his too-bright smile, and beg Alex for another chance.

Alex, though, isn’t ready to forgive and forget, and Dane is a distraction he doesn’t need on his team, until an injury forces Alex to accept Dane as his medley relay anchor. Working together, their passion reignites. When Dane’s parents threaten reprisal and Alex is accused of doping, the two must risk everything to prove Alex’s innocence, to love one another, and to win back their spots on the team, together.

RIPTIDE PUBLISHING

Dane climbed out of the car, squinting against the bright midday sun. Dressed in jeans and a wrinkled tee, hair a red rat’s nest, auburn scruff matted along one side of his jaw, and the rest of his face somewhere between flaming red and sickly green, Dane looked a sleep-deprived mess, worse even than Alex.

Alex stepped back, not forward.

And met his mom’s hand, pressed lightly against his spine. “I think you know what he wants now.” Alex could hear the smile in her knowing voice.

“Isn’t that Big Red?” Carla asked, drawn from the back porch by the commotion.

Alex nodded, still speechless.

His mom gave him a firmer push, and he stumbled down the first porch step. No going back now. Putting one foot in front of the other, he descended the steps and came to a stop in front of Dane.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voicing the only question that mattered in this present world gone mad.

Clear blue eyes stared back at him, full of the same affection he’d seen there Saturday night, had seen for the first time ten years ago across a pool. Together with Dane’s shy, self-deprecating smile, the real one, it was a beautiful and dangerous combination.

And beautiful, dangerous words followed. “I came here for you.”

Author Layla Reyne was raised in North Carolina and now calls San Francisco home. She enjoys weaving her bi-coastal experiences into her stories, along with adrenaline-fueled suspense and heart pounding romance. When she’s not writing stories to excite her readers, she downloads too many books, watches too much television, and cooks too much food with her scientist husband, much to the delight of their smushed-face, leftover-loving dogs.

 Author Tagline: Adrenaline-Fueled Romance

 

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Blog Tour, Excerpt, Review & Giveaway: So Over You by Kate Meader

SO OVER YOU
Series: The Chicago Rebels #2
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Kate Meader
Release Date: December 4, 2017

Three estranged sisters struggle to sustain their late father’s failing hockey franchise in Kate Meader’s sizzling Chicago Rebels series. In this second entry, middle sister Isobel is at a crossroads in her personal and professional lives. But both are about to get a significant boost with the addition of a domineering Russian powerhouse to the Rebels….

Isobel Chase knows hockey. She played NCAA, won Olympic silver, and made it thirty-seven minutes into the new National Women’s Hockey League before an injury sidelined her dreams. Those who can’t, coach, and a position as a skating consultant to her late father’s hockey franchise, the Chicago Rebels, seems like a perfect fit. Until she’s assigned her first job: the man who skated into her heart as a teen and relieved her of her pesky virginity. These days, left-winger Vadim Petrov is known as the Czar of Pleasure, a magnet for puck bunnies and the tabloids alike. But back then… let’s just say his inability to sink the puck left Isobel frustratingly scoreless.

Vadim has a first name that means “ruler,” and it doesn’t stop at his birth certificate. He dominates on the ice, the practice rink, and in the backseat of a limo. But a knee injury has produced a bad year, and bad years in the NHL don’t go unrewarded. His penance? To be traded to a troubled team where his personal coach is Isobel Chase, the woman who drove him wild years ago when they were hormonal teens. But apparently the feeling was not entirely mutual.

That Vadim might have failed to give Isobel the pleasure that was her right is intolerable, and he plans to make it up to her—one bone-melting orgasm at a time. After all, no player can perfect his game without a helluva lot of practice…

AMAZON | iBOOKS

“So we are agreed. You are looking for nice.”

“Most everyone is, Vadim. No one wants a creep.”

He inclined his head until it almost touched hers. “The opposite of nice does not have to be a bad thing. Not when it comes to certain areas. Sex, for example.”

“You can never stray long from that subject, can you?”

“Men think of it often, yes. I am just a slave to my gender. My offer is still open, you know.”

Oxygen was at a premium. He was far too close. “What offer?”

“To apologize. With my cock.”

Oh, she got it now. There was no apology on the table. This was purely Vadim Petrov trying to prove he was top dog, the man who could make a woman’s panties drop with a smile and a wink.

“You raging dingus! You’re not interested in ‘my disappointment’ or in making up for that first terrible time. All you care about is that there are women living in this universe who didn’t go off into the stratosphere when your dick made its debut inside their vaginas.”

“Only one woman, Isobel.”

She scoffed. “So sure.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t know back then. You just assumed tectonic plates shifted because, like all men, you imagine you’re the epicenter of the orgasm earthquake. As long as you feel the earth move, to hell with everyone else.”

Nothing but aristocratic hauteur from him now. “I am trying to be nice—”

“Nice? You just said you only recognize nice because you’re the opposite!”

He curled a hand around her neck, his touch shockingly sensual. “Then I shall be the opposite. I shall be very, very bad, Isobel.”

She wanted to say something about how “bad” wasn’t the opposite of “nice,” but this wasn’t an appropriate time for an English lesson. Her pulse stuttered, then gathered strength, a relentless pounding of yes, yes, yes. He must have heard it because, the next second, his lips crashed into hers, taking control as if it was his right.

But she knew better, didn’t she? She knew that Vadim Petrov was all smoke and mirrors, style without substance, a man whose only focus was his own pleasure.

Boy could he kiss, though.

This wasn’t your standard teenage fumbling. This was a man who knew exactly what do with his mouth. Probably all that practice over the years, she thought bitterly.

The bitterness melted in the face of a wildfire consuming her body. Pure, white-hot need. Maybe the owner of the lips didn’t matter. Maybe it was just a joining together of body parts that worked in this never-to-be-repeated moment.

He halted, his expression impossible to read in the shadows.

“It is bad, yes?” His breathing was labored.

“Terrible,” she murmured. “Again.”

She expected him to say something cutting, but he surprised her.

He did as he was told.

He didn’t taste like the boy she remembered. She thought she’d committed everything about that experience to her soul, both the bad and the good, yet Vadim’s mouth was different now. He was different.

This kiss . . .

. . . different.

Spicy and sweet, authoritative yet testing. It cracked open something. Not inhibition, because that had never been her problem, but reticence. With other men, she would hold back, waiting for the sparks to fly. If it didn’t ignite within a few seconds, she was already moving on, steeling herself for the disappointment that would come later.

Vadim’s kiss blew her wariness away. If it was this good, then the rest . . . No, that was not going to happen.

He was an employee, a coworker, a tabloid manwhore, sort of a dick, and the guy who took her virginity and did a piss-poor job about it. If none of these reasons were enough to put a halt to this nonsense, then she was in deep freakin’ doo-doo.

“Well?” he asked, though there was no missing the blink back to reality of his eyelids. He was just as affected as she.

“You want a score?” she panted. “Seven point four. The French judge marked you down. Too much tongue.”
This appeared to delight him, delight coming in the form of a lift at the corner of his decadent mouth.

“It seems we both have lessons to learn. Again.”

In a flash, he had pulled her across into his lap—okay, she may have helped because this couldn’t not continue. Strangely, the snark fired her up. That hadn’t been their thing before, but maybe his time in North America had improved his personality.

She liked this version of Vadim. She liked it very much.

She also liked his positioning of her core over his erection. His hands kneading her ample ass to bring her closer was another check in the “like” column. And, additionally, helping her improved opinion of him was his mouth back on hers, sucking, testing, exploring.

“Again,” he murmured.

“Again,” she sighed right back into his mouth.

Again.

Rubbing her center against him was divine.

His hands everywhere were divine.

That mouth . . . oh, God, that mouth was ten steps above divine.

And then that mouth was speaking Russian, rough, sexy, sweet nothings that drove her wild. Forced out all common sense. His mouth trailed her jaw, delivering little nips and hot licks to her neck.

“Bella”—something in Russian—“Bella”—more Russian—“Bella.” As if one language was inadequate to express how she affected him.

She heard the scrape of her track jacket zipper, felt tingles as he applied openmouthed kisses to newly exposed skin. Her nipples were on fire, sensitive and needy. Can’t stand this. Going to die. She ripped her bra strap off her shoulder and freed one aching breast.

“Suck me,” she begged, and then his mouth closed over her tit and suckled hard. His moan on tasting her sounded like he was in pain, but she didn’t care; all she cared about was this mindless grasp at pleasure.

The insistent pulse thrumming through her body beat louder, stronger, showing no sign of stopping and heading for the one place she’d never visited with this man. She rolled her hips and hiked her suggestive rubs into a dirty grind. He was huge against her, toting this hard, hot instrument of pleasure that stroked her just right.

Still not enough.

“Please,” she begged as she rode him harder. Faster. Dirtier.

“Da, da, da,” he said. Yes, yes, yes.

I would like to apologize. Properly.”
Her lungs went on hiatus. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. “Apology accepted,” she said cheerfully, though it came out chipmunk style. Alvin would be so proud.
“You choose to act clueless about what I mean?”
“Are you offering to apologize with your penis?”
“It is my most improved area.”

Is it any wonder I’ve been obsessed with all things Kate Meader ever since reading her first book? The woman is the queen of banter and she writes some of the most sizzling enemies to lovers romances I’ve ever read. I was immediately hooked on her brand new Chicago Rebels series, and it isn’t just because it’s based in my home town. Though it’s safe to say I may have been a tiny bit biased. But let’s be real, any author that can take three estranged sisters and make them the new owners of a sport that’s a boy’s only club and not only make them sassy and powerful, but totally endearing too is a total rockstar in my eyes!

So Over You brings the story of Isobel Chase. And while her sisters have had a connection to the game because of their famous and philandering hockey player father, no one was closer to hockey than her. She had her sights set on a professional career and a handsome Russian hockey player until both were ripped away from her in the worst way possible. While she may have licked her wounds over her lost hockey career, the man that made her first time the most ho hum affair and then disappeared from her life…not so much. Here a girl builds up losing her virginity to the most handsome boy she knows and it’s a wham bam, not even a thank you m’am affair. And now said man is back in her world as the newly traded player on her team and not only does she have to suffer his glares, but she has to coach him, too.

Can I just say how much I absolutely adored the banter and camaraderie between the Chase sisters in this latest installment. It feels like with each book, their bond just gets tighter and tighter, and I simply can’t get enough of it.

The man has only ever had eyes for you.”
“Yeah, the minute he laid those Cajun peepers on you,” Violet chimed in, “he was all, ‘Me Remy, you Remy’s baby mama. Take my seed. Take it all!’

But the center stage of the story was definitely the banter between Vadim and Isobel. There’s nothing sexier than a brooding and glaring Russian. Unless said Russian is also now determined to right the wrongs of the past and deliver on the missing orgasms. GAH! I loved this grumpy puss. So much. I don’t know how the author managed to take his grumpy and glaring ways and make him hilarious and endearing, but she totally did. Add in the secondary characters and the banter, and I had a goofy smile on my face the entire time!

Isobel!” Mia called out. “I’m bored, and Vadim doesn’t know how to entertain me.”
“Entertainment was not part of the deal. Neither was little dog with big shits.”
“Don’t call Gordie Howe that. He’s very sensitive.”

As always, the sexual tension was even hotter than the sexual chemistry. I was literary vibrating with glee to finally see the two of them give into the undeniable attraction and feelings that still run between them.

While I loved Isobel’s fierceness, admittedly her stubbornness at times wore on me. But Vadim was the perfect salve and together with her sisters, they gave her what she needed to get herself together.

I love a sexy second chance romance, and So Over You delivered on that end and then some! If you’re looking for a fun, quick paced, and sizzling sports romance, this book is not to be missed.

My woman is the North Star in my night sky, but also in her own. If she is not there to guide me, there is only darkness. For us both.”


DON’T MISS THE REST OF THE SERIES

AMAZON | MY REVIEW | ADD TO GOODREADS


Kate Meader was raised on romance. An Irish girl, she started with Catherine Cookson and Jilly Cooper novels, and spiced it up with some Mills & Boon. Now based in Chicago, she writes romances of her own, where sexy contemporary alpha heroes and strong heroines match each other quip for quip. When not immersed in tales of brooding mill owners, oversexed equestrians, and men who can rock an apron or a fire hose, Kate lives on the web at katemeader.com.

Kate Meader will be giving away a $25 Amazon gift card during release week. To enter, please go here!

Copyright © 2015 · Dirty Girl Romance

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