Friday, May 24, 2019

RELEASE REVIEW: Ring around the Rosey by L.A. Fiore & Anthony Dwayne




Title: Ring around the Rosey
Authors: L.A. Fiore & Anthony Dwayne
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 24, 2019



Blurb

After tragedy rocks the small town of Danville Creek, best friends Emma Blake and Branch McKenna are ripped from the only homes they’ve ever known.

Twenty years later, they are called back to… Rosey Plantation.
A getaway shared by their parents and... the place they were all found dead.

As they get the house ready to sell, they uncover clues to a game—a handcuff key in a trinket box, eye bolts anchored into the basement wall, silk bindings in unusual places—and discover it wasn’t a retreat but a place to play.

While Emma and Branch find solace in one another, and explore some of their own dark fantasies, mysterious things start happening. Convinced they need to play the erotic game, or end up like their parents, their lives start to unravel.

Some say ghosts can haunt, but when the danger becomes real, they find themselves racing against the clock to find the killer among friends before history repeats itself.

Are you ready to play, Ring around the Rosey?

They all fall down.







Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited


REVIEW:
Branch has a way with his words, “you turned out effing hot as eff, babe.” Then he placed the wing in his mouth and pulled it out slowly, keeping his eyes on Emma the whole time." Branch really appreciates his woman's feisty demeanor, “I’m gonna go tap that *** while she’s still on fire. So, you can see yourself out.” With that Branch leaped up the stairs, grin filling his face, hoping his woman was still pi**ed." I liked this book, I loved Branch, some parts of the book book were a little...um out there in terms of the plot but I liked it.






L.A. Fiore

LA Fiore is a hybrid author of thirteen novels. She believes in a happily ever after, but she likes to make her readers work for it. When she's not writing, she can usually be found in the garden or hanging on the deck with her family and friends. She lives in Bucks County, Pennsylvania with her husband and two kids and their four fur babies.


TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
GOODREADS
AMAZON


Anthony Dwayne

Anthony started writing years ago as a hobby, but it quickly turned into a passion. He first began publishing under the name, Kane Caldwell, but has since changed the name he will continue publishing under. He is the epitome of a country boy with jeans, t-shirt, hat (No, not a cowboy hat. Lol), scruffy face, work boots on, driving his truck and definitely not a guy you'd picture writing romance. Anthony works in the construction business where he runs his own crew. He has two awesome boys, and an amazing woman that keeps him on the edge. He drinks way too much coffee and probably curses in one day what others curse in their lifetime. Lol! Anthony resides in the south where the weather is warm but most times sweltering hot. During down time, he loves to be surrounded by family, friends, great food, or engrossed in a good book. And of course, putting his imagination to work, where reality and fantasy collide.


FACEBOOK
FACEBOOK GROUP
AMAZON
NEWSLETTER
WEBSITE
BOOKBUB
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
GOODREADS






Thursday, May 23, 2019

BLOG TOUR REVIEW: Undeniable by Melanie Harlow

Undeniable - BT banner

“Whoa. Undeniable is one of my top reads! Sizzling chemistry, off the charts sexual tension and all the feels I’ve come to expect with a Melanie Harlow romance!”- Ilsa Madden-Mills, Wall Street Journal bestselling author

Undeniable, an all-new sexy standalone second chance romance from USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow, is available now!

Undeniable AMAZON.jpg
When we were eleven, Oliver Ford Pemberton dared me to jump off a barn roof. He said you couldn’t break a leg from a 12-foot-jump.
He lied.
(You can also break a collarbone, which served him right as far as I was concerned.)
I wish I could say it was the last dare I ever took from him, the last bet I ever made with him, the last time I ever trusted Oliver Ford Pemberton.
But it wasn’t.
Because he had the nerve to grow up gorgeous, charming, and sexy. And as we got older, the dares only got dirtier—and the betting stakes higher—until finally, he left me in pieces. I swore I’d never talk to him again.
But twenty years after I took that flying leap, he’s back in my life, daring me to risk everything for him: my job, my self-worth, and my heart.
How many chances does true love deserve?
Undeniable - AN

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/2VKluH2
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2DEajVf

REVIEW:
I'm pretty sure Oliver loves it when his woman is enthusiastic, "...I pressed my lips to his, then jumped up on him, wrapping my legs around his waist. “It is,” he agreed, walking over toward the bed . “And it’s about to get even better.” Oliver doesn't mind being honest at times, “I will be. For example, I’m honestly thinking that I’d really like to have *** with you right now.” I liked this book, I loved Oliver even if he was an idiot in his youth.

Undeniable - Teaser 4 AN

Excerpt:

Fueled by pent-up lust and scotch, we stumbled into Oliver’s room and tore at each other’s clothes. It was hot and rough and a little bit violent, as if we were furious we hadn’t been able to keep our hands to ourselves and wanted to take it out on one another’s bodies. We pushed and pulled and growled and grasped. We called each other names and cursed viciously. We knocked over a lamp and ripped Oliver’s shirt. When we finally exploded together, Oliver had me up against the door, and if our yelling didn’t wake the entire floor, then the pounding must have. I’d have bruises for days. Afterward, we collapsed on the bed, naked and sweaty and exhausted. “Oh my God,” I said. “I can’t believe we did that.” “I know. Me either.” “I think I pulled a muscle.” “I think you bit me. Am I bleeding?” I laughed. “No, but I hope you’re not seeing anyone. If you are, she’s going to wonder about all those scratches on your back.” “I’m not seeing anyone.” He paused. “Are you?” “No.” Neither of us moved for several minutes. When I caught myself falling asleep, I sat up. “I should go.” “Why? Just stay here.” I looked down at him. “You want me to stay?” “Yeah.” He opened his eyes. In the low light, they almost looked black instead of blue. “Spend the night with me.” I waited for it—the dirty joke, the excuse, the subtle dig—the reason he’d toss out for asking me to stay. It couldn’t just be that he wanted me here. But he didn’t say anything more. He just reached out and covered my hand with his. I looked at our hands for a moment, and a thousand memories came rushing back. Some good, some bad, but all us. I felt close to him, and I didn’t want to leave. “Okay. I’ll stay.” “Good.” He took off his watch and put it on the nightstand.

About Melanie

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she's not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, Succession, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak. Melanie is the author of the ONE & ONLY series, the AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit. Harlow Headshot Color

Connect with Melanie

Stay up to date! Sign up for Melanie’s mailing list: http://www.melanieharlow.com/subscribe/





Wednesday, May 22, 2019

RELEASE REVIEW: Seducing the Billionaire's Daughter by Marquita Valentine

 
SEDUCING THE BILLIONAIRE'S DAUGHTER by Marquita Valentine Release Date: May 23rd Genre: Contemporary Romance
 
 
 
 
 
Blurb: Despite the prestige of his last name, Sawyer Taggart clawed his way to the top. As the illegitimate son the Taggarts can no longer ignore, he wants what's rightfully his--control of the security firm that's worth billions. But first, he has to take out the competition. London Montgomery refuses to use her last name to get ahead. As the only girl in the trio of billionaire Montgomery siblings, she's a prime target for fortune hunters. To keep herself safe and please her family, she stays on the straight and narrow... until she meets Sawyer Taggart. No matter how many roadblocks she throws in his way, the darkly seductive businessman continues to ruthlessly pursue her.
Now London has to decide if she'll risk it all to be with Sawyer, or choose a man her family approves of... In the meantime, you can read: Seducing the Billionaire's Wife Seducing the Billionaire's Brother

REVIEW:
Sawyer likes to eavesdrop at times, “so am I.” He opened the door for her. “Also, Maya is right. You should do all the things to me.”  Sometimes a girl has to make sure her man is in working order, “oh, I don’t know. I had my way with you a lot.” She moved her hand to cup his ever-growing erection. “I don’t want him to stop working.” I liked this book, this was a great light-hearted read.


   
About the Author: Marquita Valentine is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary romance.
When she's not writing sexy heroes who adore their sassy heroines, she enjoys traveling, reading, and spending time with her family and friends. Married to her high school sweetheart, Marquita lives in a seriously small town in the south.




Tuesday, May 21, 2019

Dax by Sawyer Bennett



Dax just can't handle emotions, “don’t,” he orders with authority, setting his pizza down. I start blinking the wetness away when he growls, “Don’t start effing crying on me, Regan. I can’t handle it.” Dax tries to be noble but instead turns all caveman, “I’m not sure I can be gentle with you right now, Regan. That dress has me all kinds of twisted, and I’m beyond pi**ed other men saw you in it. Got this strange need to effing mark you.” I liked this book, I loved Dax.

BLOG TOUR REVIEW: The Billionaire Boss Next Door by Max Monroe

TBBND - BT banner.jpg

The Billionaire Boss Next Door, an all-new hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe, is available now!

Boss-next-door-(Cover).jpg
My new boss has it all. In spades.
Gorgeous green eyes? Check.
Hard-and-sexy body? Check.
Intelligence? Check.
Success? A big fat billionaire… Check.
Too bad I haven’t started out on the best foot.
My big mouth has already turned him against me, and tempting good looks and success aside, Trent Turner is no peach either. He’s stubborn and thick-headed, and son of a fruitcake, he thinks he knows everything there is to know about the hotel business.
With him running the development of the new Vanderturn New Orleans Hotel and me doing the design, our work relationship is far too intimate for two people who absolutely despise one another.
But that’s not all.
See, he isn’t just my billionaire boss from hell. He’s my new neighbor, too.
Same city.
Same building.
Same floor.
Trent Turner is my billionaire boss next door.
Holy moly, let’s hope my career—and hormones—can survive.
Disclaimer: If you generally love to suffer, hate fun of any kind, and are allergic to laughter, this book is not for you.
TBBND - AN.jpg
Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/TBBND
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2uEva5S

REVIEW:
You don't mess with Greer and her shows, “stay or go!” I yell like a psychopath. “But shut up and let me watch this.” Trent is a real winner in his text messages, "and for the record, you look stunning tonight. And your breasts are better than great. I’ve been staring at them ever since you got here." Yea... Trent never knows what's going to come out of his woman's mouth, “do you want to sleep with me?” I ask without preamble or context. His eyes nearly bug out of his head..." I loved this book, I fell in love with Greer and Trent.

TBBND - Teaser 3 AN.jpg

Excerpt:

It only takes five minutes inside the hotel gym to realize why my original plan was to eat a hamburger in bed. I do not got this. I’m not good at working out, I’ve never been good at working out, and I’ll never be good at working out. I don’t know what to do with the equipment, and it doesn’t know what to do with me. Clearly, it’s been designed for people with half a foot more height and fifty percent more muscle, and even on the lowest of settings, I fumble my way through biceps curls like an uncoordinated inchworm. I can barely reach the handles, so I have to kind of stoop to get in position, but the newly formed curve of my spine makes me have to arch and wiggle to complete the curl. If it weren’t for my kick-ass Metallica T-shirt, I might start to worry that I look foolish. The ten-pound weight clanks as I drop it the inch and a half I managed to lift it in the first place, and I stand up to find a different machine. Surely there’s something in here I can operate without having a special license. I find some kind of seated thing with weights on one end and a padded face rest on the other. I sit, lay my face down, and attempt to slide my legs underneath the weighted bar. But, it’s completely awkward and uncomfortable, and I start questioning what in the fuck this thing is even supposed to do. Just before I give up completely, a throat clears deeply beside me, and I look up to see a far too muscular man staring down at me in confusion. “Uh…wow…I didn’t realize you could use it that way…” Huh? I nearly ask him what he’s talking about, but his actions answer any and all questions I might have. He sits down on the machine beside mine—an identical machine to mine—and it’s then I realize the face rest is not a face rest. It’s a seat. For asses. A seat for sweaty, workout asses. Jesus Christ. I shudder and disentangle myself from the machine. “You okay?” Arnold Schwarzenegger’s long-lost brother asks, but I just nod off his question and put some much-needed distance between us. Also, I scrub my face with the hand towel I brought down from my room like it’s a fucking Brillo pad capable of removing the ball sweat that’s probably found itself a home in my pores. Note to self: take one thousand scalding-hot showers tonight. With a deep inhale, I try to regain some of the pride I lost back there by Mr. Muscles and peruse the room until I find a machine that’s labeled with instructional pictures to boot. Hip. Abduction. Do I need aliens to use this thing? Against my better judgment, I study the pictures and peptalk myself into sitting down on the seat and swing my legs over to the inside of the knee pads. No face-to-butt-sweat mistakes happening here, folks! The weight is set on one hundred and fifty pounds from the person before me, and it makes me wonder if Thor is staying at this hideous hotel too. I pull out the pin and put it on forty instead. After a quick test push with my legs, the setting seems doable, so I take out my phone and start scrolling through it to set up some music to accompany me. Yes. Yes. That’s exactly what I need. Some workout jams. Of course, once I’m on it, I get distracted by Instagram, and five minutes go by before I realize I’m sitting on a machine, not a couch, and the purpose here is to do something other than lounge. I glance up from my phone and scan the room, wondering slightly if anyone knows how long I’ve been sitting here. Mr. Muscles has moved on to a new machine, but a different guy across the room makes eye contact and smirks. Busted. Normal human decency dictates he should let me off the hook and go about his day, but this fit, Adonis-looking, sweat-covered, brown-haired, green-eyed—good God, he’s attractive—man apparently has no manners. Shit. His sleeveless white T-shirt clings to his tanned body as he strides my way, and his athletic shorts conform to a muscular set of thighs and ass. I look everywhere but at him, fiddling with the machine as though I’m doing something productive, but he still doesn’t get the hint. Raspy and firm, the clearing of his throat sounds right next to me. I look up as innocently as I can manage and pull out my earbuds as though I had music playing. “Um, hi,” I say with a cute little manufactured laugh. “I’ll be done in just a second.” He laughs too, but his seems genuine and undeniably directed at me. “If you keep up your current pace, I think it’s going to be a little longer.” “Excuse me?” “Come on,” he says good-naturedly—the prick. “You’re just pretending to work out.” Oh no, he did not just say that…. “I’m not pretending to work out,” I deny. “I’m just getting warmed up.” He nods knowingly. “And setting up my music,” I continue. He hums. “I’m just about to catch my stride.” “Sure you are.” He calls bullshit with his smug, green as fuck eyes, and for the briefest of moments, they glance down at my chest and my legs before meeting my gaze again. “But there are people who would like to really use it, so if you’re done…” What. The. Fuck. Who does this guy think he is? “Are you always this rude?” I question, and his green eyes lighten a bit. “All right, you’re right. I’m really not trying to be a dick,” he says and runs a hand through his hair. Should it really take that much effort not to be a dick? “Let’s start over…” He pauses and pushes a small smile to his full, kissable lips. “How are you enjoying the hotel?” Start over? How about let’s never have started at all? Still annoyed, I don’t censor my answer. “It’s…swell.” He laughs at first, but when I raise an eyebrow in contention, he frowns. “You don’t like it?” “Maybe ugly décor and a whole buttload of pretention are good for some people, but not for me.” Ugly décor? Really?” How can he be shocked by this? Anyone with eyes could see the design flaws here. “Are you kidding? I feel like I’m in my ninety-year-old grandmother’s living room, except it’s a waking nightmare and I’m about to be eaten alive by the curtains.” “I don’t think it’s that bad. It’s timeless.” Normally, I’m not such a snob about design, nor do I make a point to make other people feel bad for their likes and dislikes, but for some reason, this handsome prick and his dickish attitude just bring it out in me. Before I know it, I’m channeling Regina George. “Well…” I pause and scrunch up my nose dramatically. “I’m sorry to break the news to you, but the design of this place looks like it was done by a blind rat. Gilded sailboat pictures and tapestries with oxen on them aren’t timeless. They’re old.” His eyebrows pinch together, highlighting the otherwise perfect features of his face. Goddamn this ugly hotel for housing such perfect-looking humans. “What did you say your name was again?” Shit. Emory will absolutely murder me if she finds out I got into some kind of confrontational tête-à-tête with a random Romeo in the hotel gym. Let’s also not forget this hotel gym is located inside a hotel that is owned by the company you’re about to interview with… Shit. Yeah. I’d better cut and run while I can. “I didn’t.” I jump up from the machine with the exact agility I’ve lacked during the rest of my workout and offer a saccharine smile. “But, hey, good news. Machine’s all yours.” “Aren’t you going to wipe it down?” he asks as I walk toward the door, and I can’t help but turn around for my parting shot. “Why?” I smirk at the pouty-lipped asshole. “After all, I was just pretending to work out.” Because you know what dicks can do? They can go fuck themselves and wipe down their own workout equipment, tight asses and chiseled jaws be damned. Suck on that, workout Romeo.    
About Max Monroe:
A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.   Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far. ​  
Connect with Max Monroe:  
Stay up to date with Max Monroe by joining their mailing list today: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/newsletter




Saturday, May 18, 2019

Highest Bid by Mel Teshco



Now Galan doesn't like to boast, but he likes to make sure his woman knows all his good tributes, "...his head and murmured, “Just so you know… I’m big everywhere.” Galan loves to share his thoughts, “I’m thinking about carrying you over to those rocks behind you, where I can eff you in private,” he growled." I liked this book, I liked Galan.

Friday, May 17, 2019

BLOG TOUR REVIEW: Enemies With Benefits by Roxie Noir


EWB - BT banner.jpg
Enemies with Benefits, an all-new contemporary romance from Roxie Noir, is now live!
Enemies With Benefits Final
I don’t love him. I don’t even like him. I just want him.
Eli Loveless was my nemesis from the first day of kindergarten until we graduated high school. Everything I did, he had to do better - and vice versa. The day he left town was the best day of my life.
Ten years later, the day he came back was the worst.
Now he’s my co-worker.
Grown-up Eli Loveless is sexy as sin. He’s hotter than asphalt in the summer. The irritating kid I once knew is gone, and he’s been replaced by a man with green eyes, perfect abs, and a cocky smile.
It’s bad that I want him.
It’s worse that he wants me back.
There are looks. There are smirks. There are smiles that make my panties burst into flame.
And then there’s a shared kiss that leads to the hottest night of my life.
This is no office romance. This is a five-alarm fire.
What’s a girl to do when the man I can’t stand is the one I can’t stop lusting after?
Enter into a friends-with-benefits agreement, of course.
No dates. No relationship. Just blisteringly hot sex, because if there’s one person I could never fall for, it’s Eli.
...right?
EWB Now Available 2.jpg
Download your copy today! Read FREE in Kindle Unlimited
Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2XE347l


REVIEW:
Eli can only handle so much, “you can’t say my name in that tone of voice while you’re grabbing my ***k ,” he says, sounding absolutely wicked. “You know that, don’t you, Violet?” Violet has to set boundaries with her man, “if you think I’m going to get up to any hanky-panky with all your brothers, your mom, and your niece downstairs, you’ve got another think coming.” I liked this book, I loved Eli.

EWB Teaser 4.jpg
Excerpt:
Don’t let him get to you, I tell myself, but it’s a feeble attempt because he’s already gotten to me. Eli’s been getting to me since we were five years old, and platitudes aren’t going to help the situation now. Just don’t do anything stupid, I tell myself, and that one seems much more reasonable. That one seems like something I can handle. The door opens. I brace myself. If I had a shield right now I’d put it up. “Violet?” Eli asks. Goddamn it. “Yes.” “You okay?” he asks, for the second time in two minutes. “I’m fine,” I say, all the pent-up anger and irritation leaning on that second word. “I’m just checking,” he says, letting the door shut behind him. “You practically ran out of the brewery like you were going to vomit or have a heart attack or —” “— or before I finally lose my shit with you in public for acting like I need dart-throwing lessons?” “Well, you do,” he says. “I don’t!” I say. “I don’t care about darts! I don’t care that I’m bad at it!” Eli just laughs. Somehow, we’ve moved closer to each other, close enough that I can feel his laughter rippling through the night air. “Liar,” he says. “You’re pissed that I’m better than you at something and you’re terrible at hiding it.” “No,” I say, swallowing hard. “I’m pissed that you followed me out here to keep gloating.” “I followed you out here to see if I should call an ambulance,” he says. “Liar,” I say. I could swear that neither of us is moving, but we keep getting closer by centimeters, degrees. My heart feels like it’s punching my ribcage, my pulse racing. I’m praying that he can’t hear it and that he can’t tell that I feel electrified, like if he touches me I’ll spark. I’m furious, and I want him, and I’m furious that I want him. “You think I wasn’t worried when you sprinted out of there?” he says, his low voice getting louder, irritation edging in. “I didn’t sprint.” “Do you really think I’m incapable of concern?” Eli asks, his jaw tensing, his eyes glinting, the dark making them gleam gray. “Not incapable,” I say. I look him dead in the eye. My heart seizes. “So I’m not a total monster,” he says, eyes blazing, voice dangerous and low. His anger’s so real that it’s almost palpable. I feel like I could reach out and grab it, wrestle it with my own. “I didn’t say that.” “But it’s what you think.” His eyes flick to my lips again, like they did inside, only now they stay linger there like he can’t tear his gaze away. Please, whispers my body. Hell no, whispers my brain. “Since when do you care what I think of you?” “I don’t,” he says, and his mouth finds mine.
About Roxie:
I love writing sexy, alpha men and the headstrong women they fall for.
My weaknesses include: beards, whiskey, nice abs with treasure trails, sarcasm, cats, prowess in the kitchen, prowess in the bedroom, forearm tattoos, and gummi bears.
I live in California with my very own sexy, bearded, whiskey-loving husband and two hell-raising cats.
Connect with Roxie: