Monthly Archives: August 2017

Release Blitz: The Secret by Christie Ridgway

 

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I am excited to be participating in the release day blitz for Christie Ridgway’s The Secret. I’ve read several of Christie Ridgway’s books in the past and always enjoyed them! So be sure to read about her newest book, The Secret, and purchase your copy today.

The Secret - Ebook

Title: The Secret
Author: Christie Ridgway
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Being butler to a widower and single father is a dream job in more ways than one for Charlotte “Charlie” Emerson. She helps keep businessman Ethan Archer’s household running without a hitch and enjoys every minute she has with his six-year-old son, Wells. But as time passes, the situation feels alarmingly intimate and when her heart starts beating faster each time Ethan steps through the door, Charlie must exert rigid control over her feelings.
With her secret, falling in love would be all kinds of bad…
Ethan Archer values the woman who keeps his life in order and cares so much for his motherless boy. He and Charlie act in harmony with each other and it’s not hard to picture them as a little family…in fact, it’s so easy, one reckless night he proposes a marriage of convenience.
What will he do if Charlie says yes? And worse, what if she tells him no?

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Ethan’s soft laugh brushed along Charlie’s spine, and he slid his hands down to her bottom, tilting her hips and giving her a better feel of him. All over, her skin heated.

He must have seen her reaction, because he let loose a low groan. “Baby. Your face.” Glancing away, he put a bit of distance between their bodies. “Tell me something to get my mind off what I want to do to you all night long.”

His obvious need jolted through her, followed by another wash of heat. God, she desired this man.

“Charlotte…” he said, low and tortured.

“Sorry, sorry,” she answered, trying to think. “Um…culaccino.”

“Wait a minute.” His eyes narrowed. “That sounds dirty.”

She laughed. “It’s the circle left on a table by a wet glass.”

He considered. “Okay, I feel slightly less combustible now.”

“Good,” she stepped away from him, “as long as you can relight that fire tomorrow night.” She gave him an especially lascivious once-over, very un-serious and un-butlerlike, lingering on his crotch.

He groaned again, then snatched her arm to drag her close once more. Instead of kissing her, though, he just stared into her eyes.

Age-otori,” he murmured.

“Which means?” she asked, smiling.

“Wait, not that one. That one’s Japanese for looking worse after a haircut.”

She laughed. “Have you been on the internet again?”

“Yes,” he said. “I want to impress you.” Then he touched his lips to her forehead to again. “I meant to say forelsket. It’s Norwegian—and I’m likely butchering the pronunciation.”

“Is that a fish dish?” she guessed.

He shook his head. “Look it up later.”

Then he moved off toward Wells, who was coming awake after his short cat nap.

Charlie managed to make it until night, alone in her cozy bungalow, before doing a search on the word forelsket. She expected to find it was something funny. Or maybe something a little bit filthy.

That raw, sexual side of Ethan had come as an exciting surprise.

Her lips were curved in anticipation as the results scrolled onto her screen. When she read the definition, she fell onto her bed, her world rocked.

Forelsket described the giddy exhilaration one feels when beginning to fall in love.

Did Ethan mean…

Her head reeled and her stomach roiled too.

Surely he didn’t mean it. He’d told her he’d had his love of a lifetime—Michelle. That his marriage to Charlie would be a practical arrangement between two people with a fierce attraction to each other.

But either way, she was beginning to realize that her lie of omission could too easily become a wedge between them—one capable of destroying the exact thing she wanted to build.

Oh, God. Did this mean she was going to have to find a way to tell Ethan the truth?

Untitled-designChristie Ridgway is a California native and author of fifty contemporary romances. A six-time RITA finalist and USA Today bestselling author, she writes award-winning, emotional reads starring determined heroines and the men who can’t help but love them. Christie grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, went to college in Santa Barbara, and now is married to the sweetheart she met there.
She started off as a technical writer and moved on to computer programming before having two sons and pursuing the dream she’d held since childhood—writing romance novels. Her first book stars a hero who was a former professional surfer and since then she’s written about businessmen, TV stars, soldiers, journalists, vintners, race car drivers, and horror novelists. What her heroes have in common is their resistance to love and their hardest of falls when they finally do find their right woman.

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Elle Kennedy news!!

Elle Kennedy is one of my absolute favorite romance writers. I love her hockey books but I actually fell in love with her through her SEAL romances. So, this makes me super-duper happy to be able to say that these romances are being re-released!!!

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Coming August 15!

Three sizzling-hot stories from New York Times and international bestselling
author Elle Kennedy!

Give a SEAL an inch, and he’ll take your heart.

Heat of the Moment
For almost a year Shelby has lusted over swoon-worthy Garrett, but she can’t figure out why he’s not interested… until she overhears him saying she’s too vanilla for his taste. When a heat wave sends the sexy Navy SEAL into her bakers, she finally has the opportunity to show him exactly what he’s missing…

Heat of Passion
Holly has too much on her plate to think about a series relationship. A hot fling with a SEAL, though, is the perfect way to take the edge off. The last thing she expects is to run into her gorgeous one-night stand weeks later, and to discover that Carson wants the one thing she doesn’t: more. In the face of his methodical seduction, her resistance is crumbling…

Heat of the Storm
Will has waiting fifteen years for the storm that sends Mackenzie into his arms. He’s the one man not scared of her psychic gift, and their one night of passion is enough to convince this tenacious SEAL that they are much, much more than friends. Now he just has to convince her of that…

Warning: Contains dangerously hot Navy SEALS, and heroines not afraid to take
them on one—or two—at a time.

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Release Day: Royally Endowed by Emma Chase

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ROYALLY ENDOWED
The Royally Series Book 3
By Emma Chase
Release Day: August 14th 2017

Logan St. James is a smoldering, sexy beast. Sure, he can be a little broody at times—but Ellie Hammond’s willing to overlook that. Because, have you seen him??

Sexy. As. Hell.

And Ellie’s perky enough for both of them.

For years, she’s had a crush on the intense, protective royal security guard—but she doesn’t think he ever saw her, not really.

To Logan, Ellie was just part of the job—a relative of the royal family he’d sworn to protect. Now, at 22 years old and fresh out of college, she’s determined to put aside her X-rated dreams of pat-downs and pillow talk, and find a real life happily ever after.

The Queen of Wessco encourages Ellie to follow in her sister’s footsteps and settle down with a prince of her own. Or a duke, a marquis…a viscount would also do nicely.

But in the pursuit of a fairy tale ending, Ellie learns that the sweetest crushes can be the hardest to let go.
***
Logan St. James grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, in a family on the wrong side of the law. But these days, he covers his tattoos and scars with a respectable suit. He’s handsome, loyal, brave, skilled with his hands and…other body parts.

Any woman would be proud to bring him home to her family.

But there’s only one woman he wants.

For years he’s watched over her, protected her, held her hair back when she was sick, taught her how to throw a punch, and spot a liar.

He dreams of her. Would lay down his life for her.

But beautiful Ellie Hammond’s off-limits.

Everybody knows the bodyguard rules: Never lose focus, never let them out of your sight, and never, ever fall in love.

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Emma Chase is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the hot and hilarious Tangled series and The Legal Briefs series. Emma lives in New Jersey with her husband, two children and two naughty (but really cute) dogs. She has a long-standing love/hate relationship with caffeine.

 

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Prologue: Logan Some men think with their cocks. You know the type. Quick smooth-talkers, shifty eyes always scanning for a nice pair of legs, a set of full tits, or a tight arse they can pant after. Other blokes think too much with their brains. You know that type too. Annoyingly careful, slow-moving, constantly parsing their words like they already know whatever they’re saying is going to come back and take a bite out of them. I’m not either of those. I always go with my gut. When it clenches with a warning, I act—no hesitation. When it tugs and nudges, I pause and reevaluate. When it twists and writhes, I know, guaranteed, I’ve cocked up big-time. My gut is my best friend, my conscience, my most lethal asset. And it has never let me down. It’s my gut that drags me to her door. That roots me in place as I knock. That gives me the words—pleading, unfamiliar remorseful words—I’ll gladly say to make this right. To get her back. Because while my gut is brilliant, sometimes I can be a real fucking idiot. Yesterday was one of those times. “Ellie. It’s me—open up, we need to talk.” I sense movement on the other side of the solid oak door—not in sounds or shifting shadows beneath it, but more of an awareness. I can feel her in there. Nearby and listening.   “Go away, Logan.” Her voice is tight, higher-pitched than usual. Upset. “Ellie, please. I was a twat, I know . . .” I’m not keen on begging from the hallway, but if that’s what it takes . . .  “I’m sorry. Let me in.” Ellie is difficult to anger, quick to forgive; she just doesn’t have it in her to hold a grudge. So her next words fall like an axe—cutting my legs right off from under me. “No, you were right. The princess’s sister and the East Amboy bodyguard don’t make sense—we’ll never last.” Did I actually say that to her? What the fuck is wrong with me? What I feel for her is the one thing in my life that makes sense. That matters. But I never told her that. Instead . . . instead, I said all the wrong things.  I brace my palm against the smooth wood, leaning forward, wanting to be as near to her as possible. “Elle . . .” “I’ve changed my mind, Logan.” If a corpse could speak, it would sound exactly like my Ellie does now. Flat, lifeless.   “I want the fairy tale. I want what Olivia has . . . castles and carriages . . . and you’ll never be able to give me that. I would just be settling for you. You’ll never be able to make me happy.” She doesn’t mean that. They’re my words—the insecurities I put on her—that she’s hurling back in my face.   But God, it fucking hurts to hear. Physically hurts—stabbing deep into the pit of my stomach, crushing my chest, grinding my bones. I meant it when I said I would die for her . . . and right now, it feels like I am.  I grab the doorknob to walk inside, to see her face. To see that she doesn’t mean it. “Ellie—” “Don’t come in!” she screeches like I’ve never heard her before. “I don’t want to see you! Go away, Logan. We’re done—just go!” I breathe hard—that’s what you do when pain wrecks you, breathe through it. Then I swallow bile, straighten up, turn around and walk down the hall. Away from her. Just like she wants, like she asked. Like she screamed. My brain tells me to move faster—get the hell out of there, cut my losses and lick my wounds. And my heart—Christ—that poor bastard’s too battered and bloody to say anything at all. But then, just over halfway down the hall, my steps slow until I stop completely.  Because my gut . . . it strains through the hurt. Rebels. It shouts that this isn’t right. This isn’t her. Something’s off.  And even more than that . . . something is very, very wrong. I glance up and down the quiet hall—not a guard or a maid in sight. I look back at the door. Closed and silent and still. Then I turn and march straight back to it. I don’t knock, or wait, or ask for permission. In one move, I turn the knob and step inside. What I see there stops me cold.  Because whatever I was expecting, it sure as fuck wasn’t this. Not at all . . .

Cover Blast & Excerpt for The Learning Hours by Sara Ney

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THE LEARNING HOURS
How to Date a Douchebag Book 3
By Sara Ney
Release Day: September 26, 2017
Standalone

 

He’s not a douchebag;
but that doesn’t stop his friends from
turning him into one.

MY FRIENDS WANT ME TO GET LAID.

So much so that they plastered my ugly mug all over campus, in bold printed letters:

Are you the lucky lady who’s going to break our roommate’s cherry?
Him: socially awkward man with average-sized penis looking for willing sexual partner. You: must have pulse. Text him at: 555-254-5551

The morons can’t even spell. And the texts I’ve been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I’m not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one.

THIS ISN’T THE KIND OF ATTENTION I WANT.

One text stands out from hundreds. One number I can’t bring myself to block. She seems different. Hotter, even in black and white.

However, after seeing her in person, I know she’s not the girl for me. But my friends won’t let up—they just don’t get it. Douchebags or not, there’s one thing they’ll never understand: GIRLS DON’T WANT ME.

Especially her.

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saraauthorSara 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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EXCERPT:

He’s seated at a table in the far corner when I spot him from the door. He’s not hard to miss—not with his purple t-shirt in a sea of black and yellow, and wavy mussed hair.

 

He’s slouching, hunched over his table.

Defeated. Tired.

 

My stomach rolls with nerves, nerves that have me rooted to the spot in the doorway, watching him.


Just watching.

 

For the entire four minutes I stand here, he sits immobile, studying his laptop, eyes moving along the screen, completely transfixed by whatever he’s reading.

 

Learning.

 

“Just go over there,” I whisper to myself, blowing out a puff of pent-up air.

 

I put one foot in front of the other and begin toward him, spine ramrod straight, steeling myself, prepared for another argument.

 

Twenty feet.

 

Fifteen.

 

Eight.

 

Two.

 

“Hi.”

 

No reply.

 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” I lay my hand on the back of the wooden chair across from him, intending to pull it out.

 

He stiffens but doesn’t lift his head. “Yes I mind.”

 

“Would you mind if I sat at the table next to you?” I’m pushing his buttons, looking for a reaction, but he only spares me a brief glance.

 

Shrugs. “Free country.”

 

I bite my lip to hide a smile, glad he didn’t tell me to take a hike…