Saturday, February 13, 2016

The Temperature's Rising - Six Sweet & Sultry Romances

Looking for the perfect romance read for Valentine’s Day? Below, we’ve got excerpts from six of today’s best contemporary authors. And watch out as the heat level goes from sweet to sultry to downright sinful. 

Read on and get ready for your temperature to rise!

SWEET & SASSY


If you want a sweet read for the holiday, then look no further than Royal Chase by Sariah Wilson. When PR agent Lemon Beauchamp gets her client Prince Dante of Monterra booked on a reality show, she never expects to find love. But when flirting turns to something more, they share their first kiss...

“What is that scent?” he asked.  
“Lemon sugar,” I said, my heart beating too quickly.  
“Sweet and tart, like you,” he said before he planted a soft kiss at the amazing spot where my neck met my shoulder, and the earth shifted on its axis.  
I decided it had been far too long since I’d last kissed somebody if this was how I was going to react. I also thought for a moment that I should stop him, but the only thing I said was, “My lip gloss is lemon-flavored, too.”  
Which was such a blatant invitation, and from the fire in his eyes and the seductive smile on his face, he knew it.  
“I do appreciate the commitment to your name.” He set down his drink and used his free hand to run his fingers up and down my arm, which gave me chills and hot flashes at the same time.  
“Well, not everyone gets to be named after a fruit. You have to have fun with it.”  
He pressed another kiss to my throat, and I closed my eyes as a tingling warmth spread slowly through my body. 

Learn more here: http://bit.ly/RoyalChase


A DELECTABLE ROMANCE


For a savory reading treat, Recipe For Kisses by Michelle Major will hit the spot. Ben “the Beast” Haddox is a bad-boy chef returning to his hometown to open a new restaurant...the only problem is the sizzling Chloe Daniels. Refusing to give up her storefront--or to give into Ben’s charm--the two are at a standoff that simmers with attraction.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, and his soft voice and the wicked intentions it carried made her ache for more. “But only if it’s what you want, too.”  
She swayed closer, caught in the intensity of his eyes. After her reaction to him reaching for her in the store and that first night when she’d maced him, he must understand that she wasn’t a good bet. “I don’t think I know how to be with someone like you. I like things ordered, soft and gentle.”  
“I can be gentle.”  
She almost laughed at that. “Right.”  
“Give me a chance to show you, Chloe.” He ran his hand along her arm, higher to her shoulder then to her neck. She knew he was giving her a chance to become accustomed to his touch and found herself melting because of the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. “Tell me you want this.” 
As his rough fingers caressed her jaw, she leaned forward with her heart beating double time and whispered, “Yes.”

Learn more here: http://bit.ly/recipeforkisses


OPPOSITES ATTRACT--AND ATTRACT--AND ATTRACT!


Kick up the heat with Jamie Beck’s Worth The Trouble. Sophisticated cover model Cat St. James could not be more different from rough-around-the-edges carpenter Hank Mitchell. But that doesn’t stop the irresistible pull these two feel for each other.

Her uncertain smile twisted him up inside as she reached one hand up and fingered the ends of his hair. “Kiss me goodnight.”  
All the blood drained from his head and raced to his crotch. The relentless throbbing between his legs urged him to comply despite his better judgment. Just a kiss.
As if watching himself in a dream, he saw his fingers caress her cheek. She raised her chin and parted her lips, and he pressed his mouth against hers. He gave over to the moment, to taste her once more, to slip his tongue inside her mouth and tangle with hers. The faint taste of champagne and honey overwhelmed his senses as he grazed her lower lip with his teeth.  
Time slowed. Every part of his body came alive. She bulldozed her fingers through his hair while moaning, engulfing him in desire.  
“Like I remember,” she whispered against his skin. He’d been teetering on the verge of making a gigantic mistake, until her words summoned bitter reminders of the last time he fell for her games. Abruptly, he grabbed her wrists and pushed back.  
“Hank!” She fell back into her pillow. “Stay.”

Learn more here: http://bit.ly/WorthTheTrouble


SPOTLIGHT ON THE ACTION



The bright lights of New York City have nothing on the dazzling attraction between set designer Simone Oliver and director Zach Hammond in Abigail Strom’s Nothing Like Love. This sexy British hero with a penchant for quoting Shakespeare and a romantic heart will have you as hot and bothered as the cynic heroine.

He spun them around so Simone’s back was against the wall. He put his hands under her arms and lifted her up, and when her legs went around his waist, he leaned in close.  
His erection was cradled against her center now, and they were face-to-face. His heart was pounding hard enough to shake him and he couldn’t seem to find his breath.  
But the only thing he wanted to breathe in was Simone.  
When he brought his mouth to hers it was like tasting sweetness and fire at the same time. Her arms were around him, her legs were around him, and her scent engulfed him in an erotic wave.  
His lips urged hers apart and his tongue slid inside.  
The hot silk of her mouth was like a drug. Her tongue found his and they stroked and tangled, a thousand strands of need and desire binding them together.  
His body throbbed against hers. If his lust drove them right through the brick wall and left the two of them lying in the rubble, he still wouldn’t be able to tear his mouth away. 

Learn more here: http://bit.ly/NothingLikeLove


CHAMPAGNE WISHES AND BILLIONAIRE DREAMS


If out-of-control desire is your reading #goal, then J.S. Scott is going to be your new BFF. The author has won readers over with her H-O-T Sinclair brothers, but the stakes are raised with oldest sibling Evan. He is arrogant, Alpha, and amazing, and schoolteacher Miranda Tyler finds herself saying yes...to everything he asks in The Billionaire’s Touch.

“Kiss me,” Evan demanded as he moved his hands down her back and cupped her jean-clad ass with both of his large, strong hands. His fingers gripped the flesh and pulled her molten core into his hard form. “You asked me not to kiss you, so you have to kiss me.”  
Randi’s willpower broke as she looked up and saw the longing in Evan’s eyes. It was an echo of exactly what she was feeling, and she could no more resist him than she could stop breathing. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she speared her hands into his coarse hair and yanked his mouth down to hers. She needed his touch more than she wanted to resist him, and as his lips collided with hers, Randi completely forgot why she was even trying to fight the urge to devour him.  
He sprang into action the moment she kissed him, taking control as he demanded her complete surrender. Tasting. Teasing. Commanding. Evan’s tongue swept into her mouth, wiping away every doubt she had as he conquered her mouth with his own, leaving her breathless and mindless as he finally surfaced, his teeth catching her bottom lip and nipping at the flesh as though he wanted to mark it.  
His lips were suddenly everywhere, and Randi’s hand left his hair and wrapped around his neck as she felt herself being lifted off her feet. She landed on something soft— she assumed it was the couch—but she wasn’t about to turn her head away from his mouth to look. She was too obsessed with the feel of his body against hers to give a crap what she’d landed on.   
For some unknown reason, she felt safe letting Evan take control of her body while it burned for his possession. She knew he was feeling the same insane desires that she was experiencing right now. 

Learn more here: http://bit.ly/BillionairesTouch


TRUE LUST LEADS TO TRUE LOVE


Forget about a love triangle, let’s talk love “square”! Author Melissa Brown’s newest romance If You Can’t Take The Heat has three sexy men after the same woman. And while casting director Whitney Bartolina is usually decisive, the choice between THREE men proves to be too hot to handle. Read on to find out how this take-no-prisoners heroine deals with a hunky cowboy from Montana.

Still holding on to his collar, she threw her head back in frustration. “You’re trying to torture me, aren’t you?”  
Suddenly serious, Wes smoothed her hair down and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Not at all.”  
“Then what is it?” Didn’t he want her as badly as she wanted him?  
“Maybe I like keeping you in suspense.”  
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I noticed.”  
“And it gives us something to look forward to”—he trapped his lower lip beneath his teeth—“next month in Los Angeles.”  
Whitney’s stomach did a gigantic flip-flop. “You’re gonna do it?”  
Wes nodded slowly. “I have to see you again. It’s not a choice. It has to happen.”  
He pressed his lips to the exposed skin of her neck, sucking gently as his fingers weaved through her hair.  
Pure. Torture.  
“My hotel isn’t far away. Pleee-eease reconsider.”  
Wes said nothing but continued to lick, kiss, and suck at her sensitive skin. She wanted nothing more than to pull him into his car and straddle him right that second, but maybe he was on to something in delaying their gratification. The anticipation of seeing him again, of waiting until the next time they could be intimate, was intoxicating in and of itself. 


Learn more here: http://bit.ly/TakeTheHeat

Friday, February 12, 2016

Review: Into the Fire (Gorgeous Entourage #1) by E.L. Todd

"Are you really that cocky or do you just act that way?" - Alessandra

Into the Fire
Series: Gorgeous Entourage #1
Author: E.L. Todd
Publisher: Fallen Publishing
Release Date: January 30, 2016

Buy Links: Amazon - B&N - Kobo - iTunes
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Ash

Despite everything I've done for my parents, I'll never be good enough for them. Instead of seeing a man to be proud of, they just see an embarrassment. I served four tours in Afghanistan but that doesn't mean anything to them. They only see the ink, the party life, and my short stint in jail.

And nothing else.

When they were in trouble, I handed over my life savings. I didn't think twice about it because they're my family, my blood. They raised me to be my own man and gave me everything I needed. It didn't matter that it was every penny I had. It didn't matter that the money was set aside for my future. My dreams.

Because they needed me.

But now they refuse to pay me back until I become the man they think I should be.

Alessandra

I have an unusual professional.

I escort men, acting as their date to family functions or work parties. It's my job to act deeply in love with my client. And I always nail it.

But it's not what you think.

I'm not a prostitute.
I'm not a call girl.
I'm an actress.
Get it right.

There are strict rules when it comes to my profession. There is no touching, kissing, or anything but hand-holding. Those who choose not to comply will get a swift kick in the nuts.

But all this goes to hell when Ash walks into my life.


Holy hot damn! Not only is 2016 starting off with some fantastic new-to-me authors, it is also offering up a lot of new eye candy and book boyfriends. Once again, I picked up another book at the most inopportune time and, once again, I was up way too late because I could not put the damn book down. E.L. Todd's Into the Fire was an explosive combination of a flirtatious romance, raw attraction, and one sizzling, yet cocky hero that you'll want to take for a ride just to see if the rumors are true. The characters were fabulous. I loved the banter and the sometimes innocent friendship between Ash and Alessandra. From the beginning, Ash is drawn to Alessandra. He wants to look after her and won't take no for an answer. I loved watching him as he slowly wore her down until she finally dropped her guard. Ash can be very persuasive, but yet very clueless about his budding feelings. Alessandra is a strong, independent character. She knows the risk that comes with her job, but she's not willing to give up a piece of herself to appease anyone. She is who she is whether you like it or not. Ash and Alessandra were two characters that really have not experienced the true wonder that is falling in love until it happened with each other. I think that is one of the elements that I loved the most about Into the Fire. Not only do they stumble about, they also learn what it takes for their relationship to work as they go along. Things are not all sunshine and daisies for them and, as harsh as it sounds, I liked their ups and downs. I felt that it made them that much stronger in the end. 

I loved Into the Fire. It is in dual first person perspective. Yes! After finishing a book with only one perspective, I was so happy that we got Ash's POV. I do have one problem with most books that are written in first person and that is the choppiness in the first couple of chapters. I did experience that with this book and it took me two or three chapters before I got a true feel for the author's writing. I'm excited that this is the first book in the Gorgeous Entourage and imagine my surprise that it is actually a spin-off series. I'm curious to see who will be in the next book and how the series will play out. 



Amazon Bestselling author, E. L. Todd, was raised in sunny California where she still lives today, claiming it’s the best place in the country. Easily hypothermic and hateful of the cold, she prefers to be warm all year round. She attended California State University, Stanislaus and received her bachelor’s degree in biological sciences, but still pursued her dream to be a writer. She’s written several novels and many series’, and her imagination can’t seem to stop. She tries to find the good in people and she exploits that in her writing, proving that people can make mistakes and rise above their past. Her hobbies include sunbathing, swimming, eating at Surf Taco in San Diego, reading, and learning everything she can about hippopotamuses’, her favorite creature. Her greatest dream is to make people forget about the harshness of reality and dive into a good story with lovable people. When fans tell her they love her work, it gives her the greatest sense of accomplishment.



Thursday, February 11, 2016

Release Blast: To The Stars (Thatch #2) by Molly McAdams


In the second standalone book in New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Molly McAdams’ Thatch series, Knox Alexander must convince his long-time love Harlow Evans that they’re meant to be together.

He promised to wait for her.
She told him he was wasting his time.
Not waiting for him ended up being the biggest mistake of her life.

When they were younger, Knox Alexander swore to Harlow Evans that he would wait for her to turn eighteen so they could be together. But that was two and a half years away, and Harlow couldn’t ask him to give up all the fun and thrills of going away to college for her. As the years passed, Knox remained a constant in her life but when her eighteenth birthday came around, Harlow’s heart belonged to someone else.

Every day for the last four years, Harlow has been haunted by that fateful choice. And though he may appear unaffected by what happened in their past, Knox has always tried to fill the void Harlow left. But when he comes stumbling back into her life and refuses to leave, will Harlow finally let him into her heart…?


Excerpt
The conversation that had been taking place continued, and Collin kept his arm around me as he threw himself into it. I tried to do the same. 
Five minutes later I was still attempting to understand what was happening—or happened. All I understood so far was that the men were all talking about an old case. 
“Still can’t believe the bastard got away with first-degree murder,” one of the men said, and the others all shook their heads and voiced their displeasure. 
“Should’ve been capital murder,” Flynn Doherty added. 
“What’s the difference?” I asked quietly, and regretted it when a few men laughed, and every pair of eyes in the small group focused on me. 
Collin laughed softly and mumbled, “Excuse us for a few minutes. I haven’t had much alone time with my new fiancée.” His hand gripped mine as he practically tugged me across the floor to a corner that wasn’t as busy. 
“I can’t walk that fast in these—” 
He turned so his face was directly in front of mine, and though his mouth was curved up in a smile, there was something different about it. About him. “Are you fucking kidding me, Harlow?” he hissed. 
My eyebrows rose in confusion. “Wait, wha—” My question was cut off when Collin released my hand, only for two of his fingers to dig into a spot on my wrist. The pain was instant and surprising. My mouth popped back open, whether to let out a cry of pain or demand why he was doing this, I didn’t know—but it didn’t matter, he spoke before I could. 
“Do not show your pain, Harlow.” 
“What?” I asked breathlessly, and gave him a panicked look. “Co—” 
“Do not show your pain,” he repeated. His tone was soft, his face still carefully composed. If I weren’t the one on the receiving end of the pain, I would’ve been so sure we were flirting instead, from the look he was giving me. “You know how stupid you are, don’t you?” 
Stupid? I thought lamely. The question would have frustrated me if I weren’t trying to keep a straight face while simultaneously wondering how two fingers could cause so much pain. “Wh—” 
“You will never embarrass me in front of anyone like that again, and especially not my father or his colleagues. Do you understand?” Collin leaned close and brushed his lips across my neck to whisper, “Do not say another word for the rest of the night.” The words were emphasized by a relief so great it almost felt like the pain had worsened for a split second when he released my wrist. It was clear his words weren’t just a demand—they were a warning. 
I never once would have considered myself stupid before … but now I wasn’t sure if I was for obeying his demand the way I did for the rest of the night.

Grab Your Copy Today!


And don’t miss the first book in the Thatch Series…






Molly grew up in California but now lives in the oh-so-amazing state of Texas with her husband, daughter, and fur babies. When she's not diving into the world of her characters, some of her hobbies include hiking, snowboarding, traveling, and long walks on the beach … which roughly translates to being a homebody with her hubby and dishing out movie quotes. She has a weakness for crude-humored movies and fried pickles, and loves curling up in a fluffy comforter during a thunderstorm ... or under one in a bathtub if there are tornados. That way she can pretend they aren't really happening.


Release Blast: Legend (Real #6) by Katy Evans

Meet Maverick “The Avenger” Cage in Legend, the newest stand alone in the REAL series releasing February 9th!


Maverick “the Avenger” Cage wants to rise to the top and become a legend in the ring. Though he keeps his identity well guarded, he's known on the fighting circuit as the new kid with a chip on his shoulder and a tattoo on his back that marks him as trouble. He's got a personal score to settle with the Underground's one and only Remington "Riptide" Tate.

As Mav trains, he meets a young girl—the only other new person in the town--and sparks fly. When things get heated between them, he finds out she's none other than Reese Dumas, the cousin of Remington Tate’s wife. A girl who's supposed to root against him and a girl he's supposed to stay away from. 

But Maverick fights for the woman in his heart, and the monsters in his blood. The world’s eyes are on them and the victor will go down in history as the ultimate fighting champion; the ultimate LEGEND. 

* LEGEND is the 6th and final installment of the REAL series, but it can also be read as standalone or after the three Remington and Brooke books (Real/Mine/Remy.)





It’s midweek already, and I’m halfway through my workout when I get a text from Brooke: 
Hey! Huge line at the Underground registration, might pick up lunch on our way back home. Don’t wait for us - lunch home w/Diane 
Me: Got it ☺ Will take Racer to park and meet you home ltr 
I set my phone aside and scan the gym again. Some otherworldly impulse has me walking past the weights section. I cross the treadmills, bicycles, toward the mats at the end and the boxing bags. I scan the area where Maverick always works out. There are several guys at the bags now. None of them are as big, or mysterious. Or hot. 
He’s gone. 
Disappointment washes over me. I wait a bit, checking the time. Five minutes to leave for Racer. 
Reese, you’re acting stupid. 
“You’re looking for your friend? The one you come in with?” 
“I . . . ah . . . yeah.” 
“He hasn’t come in.” 
“Right. Thanks.”  
I head to pick up Racer from day care, meet Pete there with the stroller and our snacks, then sit Racer inside and push him to the park. There’s this spot I like under the shadow of a tree. I head there. “How was day care, Racer?” 
“Okay.” 
He’s scanning the park for dogs, I know. 
“This is nice, isn’t it?” 
I pull out his fruit bears and open them. He dives in. 
“Racer, I ran extra hard today and I’m suddenly hungry. If I tell you an extra story tonight, would you give me one of your fruit bears?” 
“Two stowies,” he negotiates. 
“Okay, two stories, for two bears?” I shoot back. 
He hesitates, then nods and lets me pull out two bears, examining my hand thoroughly. I let him open my palm.  
“See? Two?”  
He grins a dimpled grin that I could eat up, and then continues eating. 
I shove them in my mouth and start to set up my blanket and stop in my tracks when I spot the figure doing pull-ups on the tree. 
His T-shirt is riding upward due to the lifted position of his arms, and I can see the concrete-like squares of his abs perfectly. 
His extraordinary eyes blaze and glow when he spots me a few feet away, not far from the tree. He drops himself to the ground, lithe as a cat and surprisingly quiet, and as he stretches to his feet from the crouched position he landed in, his eyes are direct and interested and warm. No, not warm. More. 
There’s a flip in my stomach when his lips curl a little. He ambles over and I have the oddest sensation that he was waiting for me. But . . . was he? 
“Maverick.” 
“Mavewick!” Racer repeats, and puts out his fist. 
He bumps fists with Racer. “Dude. Cool cap.” 
He taps Racer’s Yankees baseball cap. Then his eyes lift to meet mine. 
My stomach feels unsettled, but it’s not from hunger, more like from nerves or something like . . . anticipation. 
“Didn’t see you at the gym today,” I say. 
He shakes his head. “I talked to Oz.” 
“You did?” 
He gives me this quiet, perfect smile and simply nods. 
“That’s great.” 
“Yeah.” 
We smile for the most delicious few seconds.  
“So you’re fighting during the inaugural?” I ask excitedly. 
He pulls out a page from his back jeans pocket. “That’s me.” 
I take and scan the page. It indicates his accepting the Underground terms and rules of engagement, states his coach’s name, and then his name. A dangerous little chill runs down my spine when I read: 
Maverick “the Avenger” Cage 
And Maverick “the Avenger” Cage is watching me read this paper, studying my reaction. 
My palms are sweaty all of a sudden. “Well . . . wow.” 
My stomach is quaking upon seeing his name, I don’t know why. Maverick Cage. His name is a conundrum. Maverick means “rebel,” and cage . . . But it looks like this maverick is coming out of his cage. 
He tucks the page back into his jeans. “I had to tell someone.” 
“And you came to tell me?” If I sound bewildered, it’s because I am. 
He stares into me, a liquid look coming to his eyes. “It wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for you.” 
“That’s totally not true.” 
He glances down at the stroller. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell my buddy here.” He fist-bumps Racer again and Racer giggles at the attention. 
“Mom and Dad are busy, so I get to keep him for an extra while,” I tell Maverick. 
He stares at me. He has a very stubborn, arrogant face, but when he smiles, pleasure softens his granitelike features. And he’s smiling right now. Dear me. “So he’s not yours,” he says. 
“God, no. I wish!” 
I can’t think straight when he looks at me. I feel naked. As if he knows that I’ve missed him. As if he knows that just looking at him makes me feel odd. Odd and oddly sensual inside. Responding to him
I open my blanket and bend over to smooth it on the ground. Then I realize my butt is sticking out, the Himalayas of butts out there for him to see. In tight exercise gear. Fuck. 
He kneels on his haunches at the edges of the blanket and opens his hand. “Share the blanket with me?” 
His knuckles are still scarred. I can’t decide why I keep looking at them. I get a gut squeeze of empathy every time I see the bruises. His hands are huge. He plants them on the blanket, then shifts to lean back on his arms, stretching out his legs before him. Other couples are nearby on blankets. It feels intimate when I set my stuff down, and I feel myself go hot when I sense him watching me settle down next to it.  
He spreads out just a little more and squints up at the tree, then looks at me in silence. 
I search the picnic bag. “Want some . . . kid food? Or I’ve got . . .” I pull out my emergency Snickers bar, which I’m proud not to have touched yet, and I hand it over. “Plus one water and a drinking cup with a lid.” 
I pass the drinking cup to Racer and hand Maverick the water. He takes it. “I’m good.” He opens the water bottle and hands it to me.  
I shake my head. I’m not hungry, really. Or thirsty. My stomach feels full of butterflies again and it makes no sense, since I don’t even know him. 
He shifts up higher on his arms, the flex of his torsal muscles visible through the cotton of his shirt. 
“I almost thought you’d arrived to the gym and got yourself kicked out,” I try. 
“Not yet. There’s still tomorrow.” He smirks.  
And there’s a tinge of merriment in his eyes. 
“Wee, and the ducks?” 
I jerk my attention back to Racer and my pending business with him. “Right. I promised we’d feed the ducks today.” I quickly pack our stuff and then push the stroller toward the lake. He walks beside me. 
I feel him watching me as I stop at the dispenser to fill up a cup of duck food. 
“Mavewick, get me out,” Racer commands. 
Maverick sweeps him up and sets him on his feet. 
“Don’t go in the water, Racer, just stay on the edge, and don’t let them bite your finger. Do it like this. . . .” I show him how to cup his hand. “Or throw it in the water and watch them pick at it.” 
He nods and starts throwing all over, sending the ducks after the nibbles. 
I sit on the ground, the scent of damp grass surrounding us as Maverick sits beside me.  
“Hey, I want to do something for you.” 
“What?” 
I can’t remember how to breathe.  
I give him a moment to explain, but he’s not helping me out, only smiling. His face is open, friendly, his smile captivating. But his eyes are guarded, careful. I try to keep my voice indifferent. 
“You mean for the gym?” I ask, a puzzled frown on my face. 
He nods. “For that. And Oz.” 
“Oh.” I shake my head, laughing softly. “It’s nothing, really.” 
When he looks at me, he looks curious, and unsatisfied somehow. But a genuinely appreciative smile touches his eyes. “Trust me. It’s not nothing. It’s something, and I appreciate it.”  
His open gratitude makes me so warm. He makes me feel impulsive. 
“I’m in a healthy-living boot camp this summer. You’re meeting the new Reese,” I hear myself blurt out. 
Wow. Did I just spew it out like that? 
I’m so desperate for him to share bits of himself that I’m just totally baring myself to him without his even asking. Thank god he takes it in stride with an attractive little dance in his eyes. 
“What was the old one like?” he asks easily. 
I shrug and shake my head, not really wanting to get into that. 
When he does nothing to fill the silence that settles between us, it leaves me with nothing to do but look up at him. I lift my lashes, and he’s staring at me with a look of total intrigue in his eyes. Wisps of hair tease my face, and I push them away, feeling really restless under that stare. 
“Help me kick my own ass, and we’ll call it even,” I suddenly suggest. 
He shakes his head with playful stubbornness. “We’re not even. I still owe you.” His eyes grow thoughtful, and he reaches into his pocket and extracts something. “Open your palm.” 
He looks so intense that I open my palm and watch him drop something in it. “What’s this?” 
“My IOU.” 
I stare at the penny in my palm, then look up at him in confusion. 
His voice sounds a little more harsh and textured all of a sudden. “I don’t have a lot right now, but I got this.” 
“For a rainy day?” I ask. 
“For any day.”


Check out The Real Series.

Real

Mine

Remy

Rogue

Ripped




Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!


Entangled Turns 5! - Blitz + Giveaway


Entangled Publishing is turning 5 and love is in the air!

We are so excited that we are offering all the books on our latest bestselling imprint, Lovestruck, at a celebratory price of just $.99 each! If you love romantic comedies you won't want to miss any of these laugh out loud and smexy reads.

AND that's not all. From 2/1 to 2/21 we are giving away 5 Lovestruck prize packs including 5 different Sephora Minimergency kits, an Amazon gift card and other surprise gift cards. So be sure to stop by each of our amazing blogger hosts below and visit the Lovestruck Facebook page to find out about the fun events and giveaways we will be having in the coming weeks. You will also get sneak peeks inside our different releases so you can pick out your must reads.

Don't miss our Facebook party on Thursday, February 11th from 8 to ­10pm ET where several of our Lovestruck authors will be chatting with readers and offering prizes as well. So join us on the Entangled Publishing Facebook page.

Haven't read a Lovestruck yet? Take a peek inside...


To have and to hoax...

Wild child lingerie store owner Lucy Hamilton is a happily confirmed bachelorette. As far as she's concerned, men are something best enjoyed in small doses, never to be allowed too close. Then Lucy's mother tells her Aunt Bev that Lucy has eloped and is married—a tiny lie only meant to appease the dying woman...until Aunt Bev miraculously recovers. Now Lucy needs to find a "husband" for an upcoming family wedding, and fast.

Fortunately, Lucy's ridiculously hot, ridiculously straitlaced new accountant Dex Levian is willing to be her stand ­in spouse for the weekend. And that's when the trouble really begins. For starters, Dex's "involvement" with a client―no matter how irresistible―might ruin a merger he hopes will make his career. Worse still, the chemistry between Dex and Lucy is more than convincing―it's sizzling. But for Lucy, falling for her fake new husband is the most dangerous thing she can do...


Excerpt
Lucy folded her arms over her chest. “We can’t ask him to be my fake husband. First of all, I haven’t agreed to play this game. Secondly, Dex is my accountant, not my boyfriend. I hardly know him outside our professional dealings. And I just met him in person for the first time five minutes ago!” 
“Let’s just ask him,” her mom said. “See if he’d even consider it.” 
Through the door, Dex coughed loudly, as if to remind them he was still waiting. 
Lucy motioned toward the sound. “Come on. We can’t leave him out there. He’s an important, busy man. I’m sure he has numbers to crunch or something.” Swallowing hard, she pulled the door back open and headed to the sales floor. And found Dex examining a pair of red lacy crotch­less panties. He didn’t look in the least confused by them, which sometimes happened to the more clueless men who came in to buy something for their girlfriends or wives. 
His gaze skimmed over her body so fast she wasn’t really sure she’d seen it. Was he imagining her in those panties? 
A warm flush started at her ears and worked its way down to her throat and neck. 
With a barely concealed amused expression on his face, he returned the underwear to the display table.  
“Everything okay?” 
Mom went over to him. “I...we...Lucy has a question for you.” Placing a palm in the middle of Lucy’s back, she shoved her forward. Lucy stumbled, righting herself just before she slammed into Dex’s broad chest. 
Coward. 
A slow, sexy grin settled on his lips. “Something you want to ask me?” 
Oh, God. Did he think she was going to ask him out? He did, she could see it in his eyes. No one looked like he did and didn’t get regularly propositioned by clients. Worst of all, the idea her mother wanted her to propose was even more unprofessional than that.



A match made in Manhattan...

By­the­book Marianne McBride wants to prove she's more than a computer geek in a pair of horn­rimmed glasses. But how did she end up hiding in a cake, waiting to sing "Happy Birthday" to Nick Wright, a sexy and arrogant serial­dater? Not exactly part of her plan. Especially when she finds herself kissing the birthday boy, and then running like hell...

Nick falls for no woman. No strings, no commitments, and no relationships. Not even with the sweetly curvaceous bombshell from his birthday. But then he's hit by a bombshell of his own. He needs to find the perfect faux fiancée, or kiss his key to the executive washroom goodbye. Fortunately, his matchmaker sister has the perfect girl in mind.

Now Nick and Marianne have to pretend they're in love for six weeks. No dating. No sex. And definitely no acting on the wickedly­hot chemistry that could ruin everything...


Excerpt
Oh yeah, they were going on a ride tonight, a long, sexy ride that would make her cry out in desperate pleasure. 
She crooked a finger at him, and he had to fight the urge not to run across the room. 
Nick walked toward her in an even stride that left no room for objection. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Slowly. Deeply. Then he fell to his knees at her feet. Shestepped out of her dress and he moved to slip off her sexy, open­toed shoes, but her whispered words stopped him midmotion. 
“Leave them on.” 
Sweet mother of God. 
“Marianne,” he said in a husky voice, “I plan to show you how sexy you are, prove how much you turn me on, and when I’m finished, you are going to cry out my name in absolute need. Can you promise me that? Because I want to hear you say my name when you come. Promise me.”


One night, two strangers, and enough heat to melt the secret coming between them...

Special­needs teacher Kayla Johnston kisses her New Year’s Eve plans goodbye when she’s cajoled into attending a swanky fundraiser for her school at a remote estate. But instead of schmoozing with the would­be donor, a massive snowstorm sends Kayla careening off the road, straight into the path of a wickedly handsome stranger. When their chemistry ignites, Kayla’s New Year’s Eve begins to show some seriously sexy promise...

After hearing about the selfish “gazillionaire” who ruined her New Year’s Eve, reclusive entrepreneur Ryan Langford can’t bring himself to admit that he’s the millionaire responsible for the fundraiser. Besides, he’d much rather be marooned in a cabin with the enticing teacher he can’t resist. But if he wants a chance with Kayla, he’ll have to find a way to reveal his real identity before the snow melts and she disappears from his life.

Previously released on Entangled’s Ever After imprint – December 2012


Excerpt
A dimple appeared in his left cheek. Whoa, he was adorable. If her mother hadn’t raised her right, she’d be tempted to lean forward right now and explore that cute little indentation with the tip of her tongue. Maybe she would, later—she couldn’t rule it out. 
She finished off her hot dog. Should she have another? 
No, the s’mores beckoned. “I’ll do the honors for dessert. I’ll have you know I’m a s’mores expert.” She stuck a couple of big marshmallows on the end of her skewer and held them over the fire. The sonorous tones of the grandfather clock announced eleven o’clock. 
“Really?” He leaned back on the hearth rug, propping himself up on his hands. The position showed off his long, leanly muscled thighs. “And where did you come by this expertise?” 
“Years of relentless training in the Brownies and Girl Scouts.” 
“Ah. Sounds grueling.” 
“It was,” she said. “I made sacrifices and suffered a lot. In the end, it was worth it because I became a Jedi master of marshmallow toasting.” 
“Do tell,” he said, his white teeth flashing in the firelight. 
The sight gave her a pang somewhere very near her heart. 
God, she really liked this guy.

Giveaway
Lovestruck Prize Pack #3 ­ Be prepared for any chance romantic meetings with this Sephora minimergency kit, Amazon gift card and 2 surprise gift cards (If winner is international a gift card will be substituted for the minimergency kit).

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Spotlight: Earning a Ring (More Than a Game #4) by Kristina Mathews

Earning a Ring
More Than a Game #4
Kristina Mathews
January 19, 2016
Lyrical Shine

Buy Links: 

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For Rachel Parker, covering the San Francisco Goliaths is the perfect opportunity to launch her career as a serious reporter. But she didn’t bargain on Bryce Baxter, the team’s star shortstop, tempting her more non-professional aspirations. After tearing up the base paths with him, she finds herself with a little problem, and Bryce might be the only man who can save the game.

Bryce Baxter should be living the dream. His team just won the World Series and he just signed the multi-year contract of his career. But his field of dreams has been overtaken by a fiery redheaded reporter, who’s bearing a news flash that will change both of their lives forever…

Bryce Baxter sat alone in the San Francisco Goliaths’ clubhouse. He didn’t want to go home and watch the replays of tonight’s game. There was enough of that going on in his head. He’d blown the game. How many times had he made that play since he first picked up a baseball at the age of five? A thousand? Ten thousand? Probably more. Not tonight. Tonight it was as if he’d forgotten everything he knew about the game. What should have been an easy double play ended up being the game-winning run.  
The loss put his team even farther behind in their division going into the second month of the season and had reporters questioning the Goliaths’ chances of repeating a World Series run. Some were even questioning the team’s decision to re-sign Baxter to the big contract extension. The biggest one he’d ever inked. So naturally, he was having his worst start to the season ever. He couldn’t hit. Couldn’t draw a walk to save his life. And when he struck out, he did it in spectacular fashion.  
Last November he’d been king of the world. San Francisco’s biggest hero since Willie Mays. As World Series MVP, he’d been awarded a brand new Corvette. His face had been on the cover of magazines. He’d made the talk show rounds. Met the President. Women had lined up outside his door. And he’d had his choice of endorsement deals, including a line of men’s hair care products. Now, if his game didn’t improve, his agent would be lucky to get him a spot peddling adult diapers. 
Reluctantly, he headed toward the parking lot.  
“Hey, Bryce, you got a minute?” He recognized the voice of the woman standing beside his car. A month ago, he would have been happy to see her. Professionally, personally, a little bit of both. But not now.  
“Look, Rachel, I’m not giving any more interviews tonight.” He was so down, all he wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Alone. 
 “I’m not here for an interview.” She would have waited in the clubhouse if she were. He knew that. Rachel Parker was a professional, the in-game reporter for Bay Area Sports Network. “Can we go somewhere? Somewhere private?”  
“I’m not giving that tonight either.” He waited for his body to protest, recalling the dozen or so encounters with the sexy journalist. She’d been hot. Real hot. Hot enough for him to forget his rule of one and done. They’d been hooking up off the record since before spring training of last season.  
“Look, I really do need to talk to you.” She seemed a little nervous, not her usual confident, perky, and always upbeat self who was part bubbly cheerleader, part hard-hitting reporter. She was still hot. But instead of smoking, she was…smoldering. His body stirred. Enough for him to think that maybe spending the next several hours in bed might not be such a bad idea.  
But it probably wasn’t a good idea either.  
The last time they’d hooked up had been intense. Almost too intense. Too real. But maybe he’d just been riding the high of signing his ridiculous contract. Or maybe he’d felt the pressure of the deal and had transferred it to his personal life. Something he could control.  
“You know, I think maybe we should take a step back.” He raked a hand through his hair, still damp from his long shower after the game. “I’m not good for anyone right now.”  
Rachel gave him a weird look, almost as if her eyes slipped out of focus. Her face drained of color. She turned and stumbled toward his car, bracing herself against the front fender. Then she threw up on the hood of his Corvette.  
“Are you okay?” He took a step toward her.  
“No, I’m not okay.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m pregnant.” 


Kristina Mathews doesn't remember a time when she didn't have a book in her hand. Or in her head. But it wasn't until she turned forty that she confessed the reason the laundry never made it out of the dryer was because she was busy writing.

While she resigned from teaching with the arrival of her second son, she's remained an educator in some form. As a volunteer, parent club member or para educator, she finds the most satisfaction working with emergent and developing readers, helping foster confidence and a lifelong love of books.

Kristina lives in Northern California with her husband of more than twenty years, two sons and a black lab. A veteran road tripper, amateur renovator and sports fanatic. She hopes to one day travel all 3,073 miles of Highway 50 from Sacramento, CA to Ocean City, MD, replace her carpet with hardwood floors and serve as a “Ball Dudette” for the San Francisco Giants.


Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Release Blast: Leaving Yesterday (Laurel Falls #1) by Zoe Dawson


LEAVING YESTERDAY
Laurel Falls #1
Zoe Dawson
Releasing on February 9, 2016
Loveswept


If you love Susan Mallery, Kristan Higgins, or Rachel Gibson, don’t miss the start of this captivating small-town romance series! Laurel Falls, Montana, features spectacular mountain scenery—but it takes a rugged cowboy to convince one woman to slow down and enjoy the view.

Rafferty Hamilton doesn’t plan on putting down roots anytime soon. With her divorce final, the hotel heiress has left Manhattan behind to scout new locations for her family’s chain of resorts. Which is why it’s so frustrating to be stranded in Laurel Falls while a good-looking, slow-talking, Stetson-wearing mechanic takes his sweet time with her overheated coupe.

A decorated vet who paid his dues in Afghanistan, Trace Black can fix anything with an engine and get it revving—even Rafferty’s ridiculous sports car. He’s couldn’t say the same for the knockout driver, who looks like she’s never gripped a gear shaft in her life. Women like Rafferty don’t usually stick around in Laurel Falls, but Trace finds himself showing her everything his hometown has to offer before she cruises on down the road.

As the days pass, Rafferty finds herself charmed by the pace of life and the openhearted warmth of the residents. She’s even tempted to trust again—and it’s all thanks to Trace. He’s not the kind of guy she’s used to falling for, but he just might be the man she needs.


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“Trace!” 
His sister Cadence’s voice carried all the way out to the garage bay where Trace Black was currently installing a new muffler. He rolled himself out from under the car and rose, grabbing a clean rag and wiping his hands. He headed to the ranch house that was to the back and side of Black’s Garage, their family business. Situated on a tree-lined street with other houses, some looking a bit worse for wear and some empty and foreclosed, the worn-clapboard green house with the covered front porch was in pretty good shape. Trace and Reese handled most of the upkeep, the original wood floors and woodwork intact and refinished. The garage in the back filled with car parts and a couple of vintage cars lying unfinished since their father’s death. 
Black’s Garage was now really his business, although he supported his sister with the income. Trace liked working with his hands. When he hadn’t been killing insurgents in the desert, he had been fixing the engines of the Humvees his unit traveled in. His skills had kept his platoon mobile, and when they were mobile, they were just a tiny bit safer. 
He looked at his watch and was surprised to find how early it still was. He was usually up at six in the morning—old marine habits were hard to break. The military taught him that sleep was optional. But Harley, his younger brother, was restless ever since he got home from the VA hospital, so he’d been up and down throughout the night, giving up on sleep at about four that morning. Trace entered through the back door, where his brother Reese was in the kitchen making his breakfast. He shot his older brother a withering look. “Can’t you—” 
Reese held up his hands with a knife slathered in peanut butter in one and a slice of toast in the other. “This involves teenage angst and girly things.” 
“Aw, kee-rist, and you’re leaving it to me?” 
“Trace!” 
“I’m in the kitchen.” He managed not to bellow, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can you keep your voice down?” he said when she came into the kitchen still in her PJs. “Harley is probably still sleeping.” 
“He’s probably not now,” Reese said, arching a brow at his brother. He was fully shaved and dressed in a blue polo shirt and a pair of jeans, brown-tooled Western boots on his feet. Reese did like his boots fancy. His tall, muscled brother was a veteran firefighter in Kalispell, about thirty minutes away from Laurel Falls, but was currently off shift. 
“You, big brother, are being such a big help.” Actually, Reese was a big help. Ever since their flaky mom had left—twice—Trace and Reese had taken responsibility for household chores and their younger brother and sister. That responsibility increased even more once their dad hit the bottle after the loss of his wife. Trace had been ten when his mother left the first time and his dad went after her. She came back, seemed to settle down, got pregnant with Cadie, and then disappeared when Cadie was only two. This time for good. He had no idea where she was.
Reese shrugged. 
“What is it, Cadie?” Trace cocked his hip at his sister’s my-teenaged-problem-is-now-your-problem look. 
“Have you seen my mango bra and panty set?” 
He cut a look to Reese, but he quickly looked down and finished slathering his toast with peanut butter. 
Trace rubbed at his tired eyes and ran both hands through his hair. “Why would I know where that is?” 
“You did the wash. It was in the last load.” She shot at him like an accusation. Like a mango bra and panty set could be stolen and sold on the black unmentionables market. 
He tried to remember the wash and the clothes that were part of the loads he’d done, but it all blurred together. “Does it have black lace on it?” 
“No,” she said with a long-suffering teenaged sigh. “That is my orange set.” 
“Wait. What is the difference between mango and orange?” he said, winning him another contemptuous look. 
“Well, for one thing they’re different fruits,” Reese piped up. 
Trace gave his brother his best sergeant-I’m-going-to-kick-your-ass glare, but Reese just smirked. 
“Trace, really. Mango is much lighter than orange,” Cadie said as if he were the village idiot. 
“Yeah, Trace, any moron would know that.” Reese nudged him as he walked past toward the counter and settled on one of the stools. 
“Shut up,” Trace said, giving his brother a nudge back, then turning his attention back to Cadie. “Can’t you wear some other . . . ah . . . set?” 
Her chin lifted and her eyes squinted. “No. I can’t,” she said, placing her hands on the counter. “I have cheerleader practice and I can’t wear a different set.” 
Somehow that was supposed to make sense to him. 
“Cadie.” He stepped to the island, his lips pinching together. He set his hands down on the counter, too, his fingers tapping. Speaking through his clenched teeth, he said, “You are going to be late for school.” He gestured with his thumb. “Now, get your butt in your room and get dressed.” 
Cadie’s face set into a determined mask. She marched up to Trace and thrust out her chin. “It’s the only bra I have that holds—” 
“For the love of God, do not finish that sentence. My ears will bleed.” He walked away, his shoulders hunched, cringing.

Zoe Dawson had always dreamed of becoming a full-time romance writer, and with determination, persistence, and a little luck that wish came true. Her other passions include traveling the world, owning a beach house (she believes she was a mermaid in another life), and seeing her books in movies. When she’s not writing, she’s painting or killing virtual MMORPG monsters in World of Warcraft. She lives in North Carolina with her two grown children and one small, furry gray cat.