All posts by Kristyd1991ish

❤💥It’s LIVE💥❤ The Truth About Porn Star Boyfriends by Sunniva Dee

Grab it now on AMAZON :http://amzn.to/2vA3n7T

Synopsis

I guess I just forgot.
To ask him what he did for a living, I mean.
By the time I did, I was in—balls deep, as he’d say.
He was the perfect boyfriend.
Attentive, gorgeous, guessing my every wish and fulfilling them.
The sex was earth-shattering.
He even dealt with my crazy mom the way no one else could.
He popped the question, God, such a perfect guy.
There was just one issue:
He fucked other girls on camera for a living.
How the hell do you deal with that?

Excerpt 

It’s been three days since he left.

I have a photo of him on my phone.

I know what to do with it.

He’s an actor. He makes films. All I need is to Google his photo, and I’ll get that artist name he doesn’t want to give me.

So much secrecy. Deep down I know why. The news that photo will bring me will be terrible, and I’m a dunce for not accepting the writing on the wall when it’s scribbled in black, sloppy italics all around me, yeah—dunce.

I should upload it to Google.

It’s so easy.

Ciro has rented a yacht for the weekend, and he’s paid off Il Signore to have me come along as his personal waitress. My boss knows we’re together, I’m sure. He also loves my boyfriend’s restaurant tip every time he orders out.

I’m on my bed after a long night shift at Mintrer’s, cell phone in hand and his beautiful, smiling picture open in my photo album. He looks at me like he thinks I’m the world. He looks at me like this photo is for me and I’d never betray him. He looks at me with love in his eyes.

He’ll be back on Thursday. It’s only four more days. What are four days when we have three indescribable months behind us? I owe it to him to wait.

“I’ve made my mistakes,” Ciro said. “I want to do it right with you.”

I make his photo into my screensaver.

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Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/PstarAU

I’ve been reading Sunniva Dee books for a long time now and I have to admit….this is one of my favorites. I knew from the second I heard the title that this book was going to be good…I just knew it. I love being right!!! LOL  These characters had me hooked from the beginning and so did the story. It just flowed so effortlessly. so believably, so completely organically.

CIro was the perfect book boyfriend, he was hot, smart, romantic, attentive…everything a girl could want in a boy. He was too good to be true….literally. You can’t help but fall for him. He’s genuine and honest to a fault and just a damn good guy….but, you know….porn!!! His profession aside, Ciro was a character that sucked me in, made me feel his emotions and had me rooting for him at every turn. I totally understood Savannah falling for him. I completely understood her not asking that one important question. I REALLY understood everything she did both before and after that one life changing moment. Both characters were real and relatable and completely fleshed out in a way that kept this book from being a novelty and made it a legitimate romance instead.

This book had my emotions all over the place. The tension was thick for me through most of this one. I was on the edge of my seat, so wound up about what was coming. (I love that feeling, like when you’re on a roller coaster, at the top of the first big hill, waiting with excitement and dread for the fall. That’s how most of this book made me feel.) I was pulling for them as a couple the entire time, but I was also pulling for them as individuals. At different times my heart soared and broke for them both. At times, I really couldn’t see how there could be a resolution that would be right and true and fair for both characters. But in true Sunniva fashion, she did the entire story justice with an ending that I never really saw coming. Honestly, one of her best books to date.

🏐Blurb Reveal🏐 Keeper by Amy Daws

Keeper by Amy Daws releases on September 7th!

He rejected her. She loathes him. Now they have to fool everyone and pretend they actually like each other.

Add to your TBR: http://bit.ly/2fdkp5Y

Full Blurb

 

They were best friends until they became roommates.

Booker Harris has spent the last several years pushing himself to become the best goalkeeper in the Championship League. Tired of living in the shadows of his headline-splashing brothers, he has finally carved a path of his own.

As a child, Poppy McAdams was content in her own little make-believe world, until the boy next door with dimples and pained eyes came barreling into her makeshift fort demanding all her attention.

Best friends for most of their lives, everything changes when Poppy abruptly leaves London for University.

Now she is back, and gone is the awkward girl from Booker’s youth. She has been replaced by a stunning woman with secrets. Secrets that Booker is desperate to know.

Sharing a bedroom wall with your best friend from childhood quickly turns to anything but sweet and innocent.

Meet the Harris TWINS  in Challenge & Endurance

NOW AVAILABLE & Free on Kindle Unlimited (Standalone)

Challenge

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Endurance

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Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2nizYZy

 

About the Author

Amy Daws is a lover of all things British and her London-based love stories bring the incredible city to life on every page. Read all about hot British men, hilarious heroines, and unforgettable and original ensemble casts that pull out all the feels. For more of Amy’s work, visit www.amydawsauthor.com

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Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/amydaws

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**COVER REVEAL** Mine for the Week by Erika Kelly

 

 

From the award-winning author of MINE FOR NOW comes the next sizzling standalone story in her Wild Love Series, about a chance meeting that changes the course of two people’s lives! MINE FOR THE WEEK is releasing October 3, 2017! Don’t miss the beautiful cover below, and pre-order your copy today!

 

 

About MINE FOR THE WEEK (Wild Love Series #2):

As the top collegiate shortstop in the country, Ryan O’Donnell’s life is about discipline and training. But a growing restlessness causes him to bail on his baseball team over spring break to join his buddies at an exclusive singles resort. He just needs a few days to escape his life, and then he’ll get right back on track. But not twenty minutes after he arrives he meets HER, and the world as he knows it changes irrevocably. It should only be a hookup—that’s what spring break’s all about—but one taste of this sexy, vibrant woman isn’t enough. He has to have her. Even if it’s only for a week.

Sophie Valentine—yes, that Valentine—just found out her siblings want to sell off Crazy Hearts—the Peeps of the Valentine’s Day world. Being the youngest by eight years, she’s used to feeling left out, but selling off her family’s legacy without talking to her first? Not gonna happen. Upset, she takes off with her friends on their spring break vacation. She only wanted an escape—she never imagined meeting HIM. He’s smoking hot and intensely protective of her—and she loves it. But he’s about to start a major league baseball career, and she’s launching a battle to keep the family company. They have no future. It’s just…she’s never felt this way for anyone before.

Are they really going to walk away from this kind of connection…this passion? Or can a week turn into a lifetime?

 

 

Preorder your copy of MINE FOR THE WEEK today!

Amazon | iBooks | Kobo

 

 

Add to your Goodreads

 

 

Excerpt:

Sophie reached for the key in the ignition.

“Move over,” Ryan said.

“Excuse me?”

Tearing off his sunglasses, he stuck his face into the Jeep, forcing her to lean back. “Move over. I’m getting in.”

Struck by all that masculinity, the scent of sun-warmed cotton, soap from his shower, and whatever shampoo he’d used, it took her a moment to answer. He was a formidable presence, and the energy rolling off him overwhelmed her. “You can teach me how to use a stick shift from the passenger seat.”

“I’m not going to teach you. I’m driving you.”

“You can’t drive me to the other side of the island.”

“Wanna bet?” he said.

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to get twenty minutes down the road, stall out, and then what? You’ll be stuck on the road in the middle of nowhere by yourself.”

His intense gaze unnerved her. Stirred up all kinds of inappropriate feelings.“Why are you staring at my mouth?”

His jaw clamped shut. “Because I freaking love your mouth. I can’t stop kissing it, remember?”

Heat rushed up her neck, burning her cheeks. “Yes, I remember. That was very rude of you to bring it up.”

His arms reached over his head, hands clutching the roll-over bar of the Jeep. “Move over, Soph.”

“This isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s happening.”

“I’m not coming back until tomorrow.”

His nostrils flared, but he remained silent.

“And you don’t want to see the volcano.”

“Not really.”

“I’m not missing the waterfall with magical properties.” She gave him a meaningful look.

“No.” His lips twitched. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

When she didn’t budge, he finally looked her right in the eyes and gave her the most searing look she’d ever seen. The heat, the intensity, ignited a flurry of explosions in her chest. Holding her gaze, he said, “I think you know I’m going with you.”

 

 

And don’t miss the first title in the Wild Love Series!

MINE FOR NOW

 

About Erika Kelly:

Award-winning author Erika Kelly has been spinning romantic tales all her life–she just didn’t know it. Raised on the classics, she didn’t discover romantic fiction until later in life. From that moment on, she’s been devouring the genre and has found her true voice as an author. Over three decades she’s written poems, screenplays, plays, short stories, and all kinds of women’s fiction novels. Married to the love of her life and raising four children, she’s lived in two countries and seven states, but give her pen and paper, a stack of good books, and a steaming mug of vanilla chai latte and she can make her home anywhere.

 

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** Newsletter Signup ** Erika Kelly Goodreads

 

 

CHAPTER REVEAL **So Good by Nicola Rendell**

 

 

 

Coming August 7th

 

 

 

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AP new - synopsis.jpg

On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.

But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?

It feels so good.

 


1
Max

I wasn’t planning to see her naked—I swear to God, I wasn’t. The day was a scorcher, one of those godforsaken New England summer days that makes a guy wonder how he ever said fuck you to winter. I stood on the roof her house, three stories above the Maine woods, with a far-off view of the ocean. It was pretty, yeah, like the kind of shit real estate companies put on complimentary calendars. But in that heat, it was like standing on top of a goddamned toaster, turned all the way to burnt. I could feel that shit in my socks, straight through my work boots. At my feet was a stack of shake shingles, old school, to replace the ones that were missing. Her house had a few slow leaks, and one over her bathroom that made the ceiling look like a huge Rorschach test. She said it definitely looked like a rose in bloom, I said it definitely looked like Batman. But I told her hidden meanings wouldn’t make shit for difference when the ceiling collapsed into the tub, so there I was. Fucking miserable work, but I was glad to do it. Glad to do anything for her—anything she needed at all.
In the forest on every side around the cottage, the cicadas screeched. It sounded like a needle squeaking off a record player. I knelt down by the stack of shingles, using my utility knife to score a line through one to fit a nearby gap. I snapped it with my hands and tossed the scrap end off the edge of the roof. A trickle of sweat ran down my forehead, and I wiped my face with my forearm. One droplet got away, sparkling in the sun. It caught my eye, and I watched it fall, as it landed on the skylight window with a splat.
​And that was when it happened. Boom.
​There she was, right under me. She couldn’t have been more than six feet away, but she felt even closer. I had a direct line of sight down into her gorgeous, soft cleavage, bright and pure in the sunshine. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the surprise of seeing her, but at first I didn’t really process that it was Rosie at all. My dude brain said, I want that woman.
​Then my regular brain said, Don’t be an asshole, man. It’s Rosie. Have some respect.
Respect I definitely had, but of course I’d thought about seeing her naked before. She was so fucking beautiful that any man would have thought about it. Sometimes, like right then looking down into her dress, I couldn’t fucking help it. Sometimes we’d be out doing something ordinary, like eating dinner, or I’d be changing her oil, or she’d be teaching me to do shit I should have learned at some point in the last 34 years, like iron a dress shirt without screwing up the collar, and I’d catch myself watching her cleavage rise and fall as she breathed, or thinking how nice her legs were, and I’d think, Holy hell.
Now she was directly underneath the skylight. The angle of the sun cast my shadow down the roofline, away from the skylight, so I didn’t give myself away. Like that, I watched her. I gave in to my dude brain and just took her in. Her light brown hair glinted, and a beam of light caught the curve of her shoulder.
That was when the goddamned striptease started, beginning with the left strap of her sundress.
Her movements were graceful, sexy, sassy—the sway of her hips, the shake of her shoulders. I realized I might be in real fucking trouble, because I loved that sexy sass. It wasn’t normal Rosie-cute. It was naughty, like nothing I’d ever seen her do before. I liked it so much, I couldn’t look away. She shimmied out of her sundress, and it fell to the floor in a pool at her feet. No big deal, I tried to tell myself. I’d seen her in her bikini a thousand times. This was no different from that.
Except it was, because then she reached around to undo her bra. Before I could tell myself Don’t look, dude. It’s Rosie, don’t look, it was too fucking late. The straps slid down off her shoulders, and for one perfect second got caught on her nipples, swinging in the air before falling to the floor.
Holy…
I pressed my clenched fist to my mouth and groaned into my hand. All my blood was leaving my head. The roofline was getting wobbly.
It wasn’t like I didn’t know her curves; we’d spent whole summers on the beach—I knew her shape and her softness, I knew her lines and her freckles. Every curve of Rosie Madden was sacred in my book. Fucking douchebags on the beach giving her eyes had to answer to me and my eyes, right behind her. She did that to me—I was one punch away from defending her honor, always. But this? This was different. Seeing your best friend in a bikini at a clam bake is one thing. Protecting your best friend from assholes with wandering eyes is part of the guy-girl best friend creed. But seeing your best friend, absolutely naked in her bedroom, without knowing she can see you? That was a different deal.
…Shit.
Part of me knew I should keep my eyes off of her. She thought she was in private, I had no business spying. Anyway, I didn’t want to be that guy. I hated that guy. But the other part of me, fuck. The other part of me was nothing but want.
Then she bent at the hips, and time slowed down, like some kind of stop-motion Jackie Chan kung fu sequence. All the cicadas went silent, at least in my head they did. The wind stopped blowing through the trees. It was just her, and her perfection, in the sunshine underneath me. I felt like I was on one of those glass-bottomed boats, looking at a world I never knew existed.
She tossed her bra aside, and it landed on her neatly made bed. She shimmied out of her panties, shaking her ass as she did. I growled into my fist, and that’s when I went down into a crouch.
Because as she shimmied I saw it in a V above her ass. My kryptonite. A skimpy thong.
All these years, all these decades, I’d had her pegged for cute cotton panties—pastel polka dots, thin stripes, shit that was sweet and sensible. But I was so fucking wrong. Black. Strappy. Tiny. Not sensible at all. Now it was in a rolled-up ball at her ankles. Using her toes, she plucked her panties from the floor, and caught them on one finger.
Fucking A.
She was completely naked, not a thread on her. Every thought I’d ever had got sucked out of my brain, like dishwater down the sink drain. What was left was only one true thing, and it wasn’t about her ass, or her skin, or her breasts. It was the one thing I think I’d always known but never let myself feel. Until that moment.
She is the most beautiful woman in the world.
Part of the reason I thought that was, yeah, obviously, she was fucking stunning, every inch of her straight out of a dream. Not just my dream, either. Guys would slow down on Main Street to give her the elevator stare, and I’d quietly crack my knuckles and give them don’t-you-fucking-dare stares. But the other part, the part that wasn’t in my gut but that was in my heart, was that I fucking adored her. Adored her so hard it hurt.
She crouched down to pick up her dress, lifting the delicate straps with her small, sweet fingers. She pivoted, so I had a view of her other side of her body for the first time. There it was.
The tattoo.
I groaned again. I wasn’t prepared for this shit; three stories up, that body was dangerous. It was a rose tattoo, snaking around her hip, on the milk-white skin that was always under her bikini bottoms. The part of her I’d never seen. It was serious ink, real art, not some namby-pamby temporary tattoo or some amateur shit she might’ve gotten in an hour at a tattoo parlor on a dare on a cruise to Puerto Rico. It was complicated, detailed, and artful. Multiple visits to some tattoo artist, touching that creamy skin—goddamn.
It took every fucking ounce of strength I had, but I did manage to look away. I felt as disoriented as if I’d been sucker punched. Not cotton—lace. Not cute—hot. Not my friend—my fucking fantasy.
She was so important to me, such an integral part of my world, that I’d never let myself think of her as more than what she was. She was like running water, or electricity, or the sunshine itself. She was one of those things that was perfect exactly as it was, and one of those things only an idiot would want to change. I never looked at her and thought, I wish I could have more of her than I do already. That would be like thinking, I wish I could turn that cold glass of water into a swimming pool. Or, I wish electricity came through the air. Fuck that noise. Perfect things are perfect things, and Rosie Madden was a perfect goddamned thing, from the tips of her toes to the freckles on her nose. And that rose, holy fuck, that rose.
I was strong, but not that strong, and I let my eyes move down again. She’d disappeared from view, mostly, except for the edge of her ass. I watched her rifle through her closet, and a few dresses fluttered onto her bed. On her bedside table, I caught a glimpse of the picture she always kept there, of the two of us together. The memories flew back at me like a runaway train. The first time I’d ever seen her was the day my parents and I moved to Truelove, at the start of middle school. The first time I ever saw her, she was volunteering at the community gardens. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and I thought she’d looked super badass. I’d helped her dig up carrots and had been too fucking tongue-tied to say a goddamned word.
That’s how I felt, all over again times a thousand.
I’d never made a move. She’d cried on my shoulder through a line of guys who were never good enough for her. Jocks and pricks and a brief and seriously unfortunate stint with a guy who was a drummer for a reggae band who I hated so much it made me grind my teeth. But I never said shit about it. She was perfect even when she made mistakes. Tips of her toes. Freckles on her nose.
Never mind that rose. Like Banksy took on a temple.
One more time, I glanced down. Now she was sitting on her bed, and I saw that dark V shadow between her thighs. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I watched her put on a pair of red panties. Equally skimpy, equally not-sensible, equally ball-busting. They were only tragic because they hid the parts of her I’d never seen before.
Christ. All. Mighty.
As the world started to spin, I realized fixing the shingles could wait. I’d been working on old houses long enough to know that if you found yourself on a dangerously sloping roof and felt like you might be less than 100% on the ball, you needed to reconsider your game plan. I needed to get my shit together—that body had me totally fucking derailed. So I made my way down the roof, basically bouldering down backward. I focused on my grip, and my steps, like a climber coming down from Everest without enough oxygen. When I got to the gutter, I worked my way around the corner, standing on the eave, and hooked my leg over my ladder, making sure to put one foot after another and keep a tight grip on every rung.
When I stepped off the ladder, I grabbed a bottle of water that she’d left for me and filled up my palm and then splashed my face. My sweat stung my eyes through the droplets of water, and I rubbed away the tears. I heard the hinges on the screen door creak. “All done?” she asked.
I opened my eyes. They stung like hell, but I didn’t give a fuck. There she was, in a dress I’d seen before. Striped and sweet. But now I knew the secret. There were red panties under there. Red. Cherry red. My eyes fell on that part of her hip that I knew was inked.
“Max?”
I managed somehow to snap out of it. “Sorry. Getting there. Spotted something weird with the skylight.”
Rosie cocked her head. “Were you up there? Above my room?”
Awesome, dude. Smooth. “Just noticed it out of the corner of my eye.”
“I don’t like you being on the roof.” She pursed her lips. “Too steep. Promise you’ll get some ropes up there or something? Promise?” She reached out and put her hand to my arm, her fingers with their short pink nails pressing into my tanned skin. I had a quick but totally unavoidable image of her gripping my forearm in a very different situation. I want that. So fucking…
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
When I didn’t answer—I knew that if I opened my mouth the first words out would be You. Me. Right Now.—she looked up at the roof and squinted into the sun. She peered suspiciously up at me and shifted her nose, kind of like a bunny. Adorable. She wasn’t very tall, so whenever she looked at me she had to lift her chin, which used to be cute. But now looked…like everything I’d ever wanted. “Have you had too much sun?”
​I was vaguely aware that she’d said some words, but I wasn’t hearing them because I realized that I couldn’t see her bra straps, so that had to mean she was she was wearing a strapless…
Knock. That. Shit. Off. “I’m good.”
“Mmm.” She nodded and furrowed her delicate eyebrows, which had never looked so pretty as they did at that moment. I didn’t even know eyebrows could be pretty. They’re eyebrows, for fuck’s sake. But suddenly I felt like for the last ten years, I’d been looking at her through a standard definition television, with a shitty cable connection. Now someone had handed me an HDMI cable, and she was in 1080 dots per inch. Christ.
“Lemme make you a sandwich. You’re acting strange.”
Rather than answer her, I dumped the remaining half a bottle of water over my head, like Andre Agassi used to do between break points at the French Open.
“Ham? Or turkey? I’ve got both. Or chicken salad!” She clapped her hands together, compressing her cleavage. “Do you want a pickle?”
She means an actual pickle, you fuckwit. “Surprise me,” I told her, and dragged my eyes off the curve of her cleavage. I grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt and pressed it to my eyes. I had to get out of there. I needed a cold shower, or a call from my tax guy, or an unexpectedly urgent trip to the DMV—anything to stop myself seeing her stark naked every goddamned time I looked at her. Anything to get my mind off that ink.
As I wiped my face, she cleared her throat, and I dropped my shirt. “What?”
She pressed her lips together and rocked back on her sandals. “Nothing!”
I followed her eyes and glanced down at my fly, but the stallion was still in the barn. “Come on,” I said, finding myself smiling right along with her. “What are you looking at?”
“Just…” She swallowed hard. “Looking good there, champ.” She glanced at my stomach, where I’d shown her my bare abs. She made a fist and gave me a mock punch, soft and sweet. “That P90X is working great for you.”
Here we go again with the fitness videos. For everything else she was—beautiful, smart, funny—she was also a fucking ball-buster sometimes. She’d worked up this whole narrative that I spent my nights with Tony Horton on my houseboat, getting cut and doing reps while I drank protein shakes with a straw straight from the blender. It was her only explanation for why I didn’t have a girlfriend. P90X it had to be, she’d said. Or maybe, she’d whispered like a co-conspirator, “Jazzercise.” Now, though, I had a better idea than ever about why I was so picky: not a single woman held a candle to her. I’d been fucking blind to it, but now the mist had burned right off. “I’ve never even seen the opening sequence. Never have. Never will.”
“They’re streaming now!”
​“Christ.”
Rosie snorted and made a long wheeeeee. “Sure. Surrrrrrre,” she said, stifling her giggle. “One ham-and-turkey, coming right up.” She spun on her sandals and disappeared into the house. Hips swinging. Red panties invisible, but not to me.
Not anymore.

 

AP new -about the author.jpg

 

Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
Author Links

 

 

💜Thieves 2 Lovers💜 By K. Webster & J.D. Hollyfield Release Blitz

Thieves 2 Lovers

by K. Webster and J.D. Hollyfield
2 Lovers Series #3 (May be read as standalone)
Publication Date: July 25, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy

Purchase: Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Best friends aren’t supposed to kiss.
But these best friends did.

He can’t get the taste of her lips off his mind.
She can’t let go of the guilt from her mistake.

He wants to be good enough for her.
She wishes life were different.

He’s the bad boy reject.
She’s the girl next door.

When opposites attract, they collide and create an explosion that can’t be ignored.
Is it possible to be madly in love with your best friend?

Love follows no rules because love is a rebel.

Her: We should talk about what’s happening…
Him: It’s about damn time.

I was really looking forward to this one, I’m mean the first two books were pretty good and I’m a sucker for friends to lovers and Linc seemed like my favorite kind of bad boy…so this book was probably going to be something I liked. Ummmm…wrong. This book was something I absolutely adored, like passionately. It was just SO GOOD.  Like read until 3 AM even though you have to work the next morning, book hangover for days, can’t stop picking it back up and re-reading your favorite parts, OMG everyone needs to read this good.

The set up on this book was great, I love when a guy and a girl are best friends, and Linc and Reagan were. Their friendship was fun and believable and a little bizarre, but it totally worked. Reagan was a great female lead…smart, successful, accomplished, but not without flaws. Linc was my perfect BBF. He was a bad boy with a bad past who wasn’t really a bad boy, just a guy with some tough luck and bad circumstances. But he was fierce with his loyalty and his willingness to protect the people he loves. He was also CRAZY fun and funny and sweet and …..hot AF.

This book…had me laughing so hard I thought I was going to pee myself. Like honestly, one of the funniest scenes I’ve ever read. I mean, there was a TON of funny stuff in here, but one part in particular was just hysterical.

This book…gave me butterflies (that almost never happens anymore). I loved watching them fall in love. It was romantic, sexy, cute, funny, kinky and so crazy hot.

This book…had tears rolling down my face. Happy tears, sad tears, ugly cry, sore throat tears. I was so emotionally involved in this one and it just beat the crap out of my heart (in the best possible way). It was absolutely awesome.

I’m sad it’s over. I want more. I want more of these characters (all six couples in the series). I want more laughs and cries and s-e-x. I want novellas and spin-offs and just….MORE.

Hate 2 Lovers

by K. Webster and J.D. Hollyfield
2 Lovers Series #2 (May be read as standalone)
Publication Date: April 4, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy

Purchase: Amazon | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

She hates him and his big head.
He likes her and her big t*ts.

She hates him because she somehow ends up naked every time she sees him.
He likes her because she somehow ends up naked every time he sees her.

She hates him because the big oaf knocked her up with his kid.
He likes her because she’s carrying his child.

She hates the way he gets inside her head.
He likes the way she lets him see glimpses of her heart.

Andie: I hate you.
Roman: I know…but I’m going to change that.

***This is book two in the series. It is best if you read book one first to fully understand this couple’s story.***

It’s the start of nothing good.
I fired off a storm of raunchy text messages…to the wrong number.
And he replied.
Him: Show me a picture.
Him: Tell me your name.
Why does the lure of anonymity have me craving to indulge a stranger?

It’s the start of everything right.
I received a slew of text messages…when everything in my life was wrong.
And she made me laugh again.
Her: You’re probably a creeper.
Her: Possibly a stalker.
Why do I have the overwhelming need to find this stranger who saved me and make her mine?

Him: Take a chance with me.
Her: This is crazy.
Him: I need to see you.
Her: What are we doing?
Him: We’re about to find out.

Her: PHOTO ATTACHED
Him: PHOTO ATTACHED

About K. Webster

K Webster2

K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!

Website: www.authorkwebster.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP

About J.D. Hollyfield

Author JD Hollyfield

Creative designer, mother, wife, writer, part time superhero…

J.D. Hollyfield is a creative designer by day and superhero by night. When she is not trying to save the world one happy ending at a time, she enjoys the snuggles of her husband, son and three doxies. With her love for romance, and head full of book boyfriends, she was inspired to test her creative abilities and bring her own story to life.

Life in a Rut, Love not Included is her Debut Novel. J.D. Hollyfield lives in the Midwest, and is currently at work on blowing the minds of readers, with the additions of her new books and series, along with her charm, humor and HEA’s.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter | Pinterest | Instagram

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**Cover Reveal** Thieves 2 Lovers

Thieves 2 Lovers

by K. Webster and J.D. Hollyfield
2 Lovers Series #3 (May be read as standalone)
Publication Date: July 25, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy

Best friends aren’t supposed to kiss.
But these best friends did.

He can’t get the taste of her lips off his mind.
She can’t let go of the guilt from her mistake.

He wants to be good enough for her.
She wishes life were different.

He’s the bad boy reject.
She’s the girl next door.

When opposites attract, they collide and create an explosion that can’t be ignored.
Is it possible to be madly in love with your best friend?

Love follows no rules because love is a rebel.

Her: We should talk about what’s happening…
Him: It’s about damn time.

Hate 2 Lovers

by K. Webster and J.D. Hollyfield
2 Lovers Series #2 (May be read as standalone)
Publication Date: April 4, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy

Purchase: Amazon | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

She hates him and his big head.
He likes her and her big t*ts.

She hates him because she somehow ends up naked every time she sees him.
He likes her because she somehow ends up naked every time he sees her.

She hates him because the big oaf knocked her up with his kid.
He likes her because she’s carrying his child.

She hates the way he gets inside her head.
He likes the way she lets him see glimpses of her heart.

Andie: I hate you.
Roman: I know…but I’m going to change that.

***This is book two in the series. It is best if you read book one first to fully understand this couple’s story.***

It’s the start of nothing good.
I fired off a storm of raunchy text messages…to the wrong number.
And he replied.
Him: Show me a picture.
Him: Tell me your name.
Why does the lure of anonymity have me craving to indulge a stranger?

It’s the start of everything right.
I received a slew of text messages…when everything in my life was wrong.
And she made me laugh again.
Her: You’re probably a creeper.
Her: Possibly a stalker.
Why do I have the overwhelming need to find this stranger who saved me and make her mine?

Him: Take a chance with me.
Her: This is crazy.
Him: I need to see you.
Her: What are we doing?
Him: We’re about to find out.

Her: PHOTO ATTACHED
Him: PHOTO ATTACHED

About K. Webster

K Webster2

K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!

Website: www.authorkwebster.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP

About J.D. Hollyfield

Author JD Hollyfield

Creative designer, mother, wife, writer, part time superhero…

J.D. Hollyfield is a creative designer by day and superhero by night. When she is not trying to save the world one happy ending at a time, she enjoys the snuggles of her husband, son and three doxies. With her love for romance, and head full of book boyfriends, she was inspired to test her creative abilities and bring her own story to life.

Life in a Rut, Love not Included is her Debut Novel. J.D. Hollyfield lives in the Midwest, and is currently at work on blowing the minds of readers, with the additions of her new books and series, along with her charm, humor and HEA’s.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter | Pinterest | Instagram

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**COVER REVEAL** The Truth About Porn Star Boyfriends by Sunniva Dee

 

The Truth about Porn Star Boyfriends
Sunniva Dee
Publication date: August 15th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

I guess I just forgot.
To ask him what he did for a living, I mean.
And by the time I did, I was in—balls deep, as he’d call it.
He was the perfect boyfriend.
Attentive, gorgeous, guessing my every wish and fulfilling them.
The sex was earth-shattering.
He even dealt with my crazy mom the way no one else could.
He popped the question, God, such a perfect guy.
There was just one issue:
He f*cked other girls on camera for a living.
How the hell do you deal with that?

Add to Goodreads

EXCERPT:

I slept over at his house. I did. I just couldn’t go home after everything he told me. I didn’t accept the invite to come with him on the boat today though. I didn’t ask him if he was going without me either. If he is, wouldn’t he be inviting some “friends,” some Alicias or Silks? I don’t want to know.

It’s not difficult to get my shifts back at Mintrer’s. With Il Signore’s nonna at the hospital, the family spends as much time at her bedside as they can.

Mom calls.

She sounds okay.

I need to verify in person even though Paul is next door, hopefully keeping her busy with his garden statues and homemade fountains. He likes my quirky mother because he’s quirky himself. That’s my guess anyway. I don’t think I can handle any new rocks hurled at Status Quo at the moment, especially not from Mom.

The boat is ready.

I only returned to my house two hours again, and this is what Ciro texts me? I roll my eyes. Frieda lowers the bagel she held up for me—everything or just sesame seeds?—and says, “That isn’t the porn star, is it?”

“Yeah, it’s Drake Constantine.” I pull out the syllables mocking him even though each sound opens my chest again.

“Well, at least he’s got a nice artist name. He’s no Jake daBoner or Cassius Erectus.”

I snort.

“Drake Constantine boned me in the ass last night,” she quotes as if from Shakespeare. She gazes beyond the bagel she now holds up like a skull.

I chuckle a little bit, and Frieda smiles. Smiles so wide it makes me feel guilty over everything I’ve put her through. I know she suffers with me. She didn’t sleep last night knowing I was with Ciro.

“What’s he saying?”

“He tells me he’s got the boat ready.”

“For that Catalina trip?”

“Mhmm.”

“You’re not doing that too, are you?” She drops the halves of the bagel into the toaster.

“Not the everything,” I say. “Can I have the sesame seed one instead?”

She presses her mouth together in a stern line but listens and fishes the everything one out and drops the sesame bagel in instead. “Happy now?”

“Very.”

“You’re not going, right?”

“No.” I want to slap my heart and my body for agreeing that we should say yes. “I already told you. I’m visiting Mom this morning, and then I’m working. If I get to do some overtime this weekend, I’m happy. I need the money, and I really don’t want to mope around the house.”

I’ll wait for you if you’re asleep.

I said I wasn’t going. Can’t. We

I hit “send” before I can finish the “We’re over, remember?” part. It was easier to yell it to him when I was furious. Today, I don’t know how I feel.

Why can’t you? He doesn’t ask about the We part? He knows.

“He’s so stubborn,” I murmur and type again.

Because, when are you seeing someone else for a f*** fest?

He deserves that I’m being crude. Hell, he’s being crude every hour of every work day.

He takes a moment to reply. Long enough for Frieda to scoot a plate and the tub of cream cheese in front of me. “Stop texting with him. You’re only dragging it out. You know that, right? I thought you’d blocked him.”

“He has a work phone too. On-freaking-call cell. Ha!”

 

Author Bio:

Between studies, teaching, and advising, Sunniva has spent her entire adult life in a college environment. Most of her novels are new adult romance geared toward smart, passionate readers with a love for eclectic language and engaging their brain as well as their heart while reading.

Born in the Land of the Midnight Sun, the author spent her early twenties making the world her playground. Southern Europe: Spain, Italy, Greece–Argentina: Buenos Aires, in particular. The United States finally kept her interest, and after half a decade in Los Angeles, she now lounges in the beautiful city of Savannah.

Sometimes, Sunniva writes with a paranormal twist (Shattering Halos, Stargazer, and Cat Love). At other times, it’s contemporary (Pandora Wild Child, Leon’s Way, Adrenaline Crush, Walking Heartbreak, and Dodging Trains, coming in late March 2016).

This author is the happiest when her characters let their emotions run off with them, shaping her stories in ways she never foresaw. She loves bad-boys and good-boys run amok, and like in real life, her goal is to keep the reader on her toes until the end of each story.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Pinterest / Instagram / Tsu.co

 

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<3 <3 NEW RELEASE <3 <3 Path of Thieves by Sunniva Dee

 

Path of Thieves
Sunniva Dee
Grab it on Amazon
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

Football hero by day and thief by night, Charles “Cugs” McConnely leads a double life in the small town of Newbark, Florida. At sundown, the seventeen-year-old turns burglar, forced into the business by the man who should be teaching him the difference between right and wrong: his father.

Cugs is a pro at both games, but only one can secure him a college scholarship. It should be an easy decision, a no-brainer—if Newbark hadn’t proffered the only life he knows.

After run-ins with Nadine Paganelli, his accidental victim and the sole person to have caught him in the act, Cugs starts to realize that hearts can be stolen too.
When his long-lost sister makes contact, lies are uncovered and truths revealed. Suddenly, Cugs finds himself questioning both plans and loyalties. Because sometimes the only way to move forward is by pulling the bottom out of the past.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Last night wasn’t good. Dad’s getting more eager. He wants to accomplish so much on his shopping sprees, blaming a more expensive life now that Step-Cynth’s with us. I’m not in a place to meddle, but it seems six-packs of aprons aren’t the only things she buys on his bill.

My father’s becoming sloppy. Yesterday, we returned in the early morning after hitting almost a dozen houses. The owners of four of them were still at home. Yeah. He isn’t doing his homework the way he used to.

Thing is I’m tired. I don’t see a change in sight. Now, I try to keep my eyes open as I drive the wreck to Orlando to meet up with Keyon. Which is going to come back and bite me in the ass. What other option did I have though, come off as a coward to, in the words of Liza, “freaking Keyon Arias of Alliance Cage Warriors?”

Keyon is already there when I enter the Hard Rock Café. He fills out his side of the booth with fighter shoulders and wide thighs. Elbows on the table and bent over a glass of water, he lifts a hand in greeting as soon as he sees me. My chance to chicken out just dissipated.

“Cugs,” he says, voice husky like it is after a fight. Maybe that’s his voice now. I remember it light, prepubescent, I guess, from back when my own had the pitch of a little kid.

“Keyon.” I tip my head, acknowledging him without a smile, and then I sit down in front of him.

“Soda?”

I think of the possibility of going to Gainesville for the tryouts. “Ice water.”

Keyon doesn’t need to do much to get the waitress over. Half-turned to our table, she’s hovering with a watchful eye. When he glances up, she meets his stare immediately and hurries over.

“How are you?” From his expression, he’s not just being polite. He wants to know. “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

“I’m good,” I lie.

“What have you been up to? Your sister has been trying to get a hold of you.”

I’ve steeled myself for questions, assuming they would come. I didn’t think he’d start with them right away though.

“Oh you know, living it up in Newbark.” I do a long, purposely fake nod hoping it will make him laugh. Instead, he studies me, starting with my eyes then traveling over my face.

“You liking it there? How’s your old man?”

I shrug, unable to lie about him. “Married again. To a girl Paislee’s age.”

His eyes widen a little. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, as of a few months ago.”

“Geez.” He blows air out his nose. “New stepmother, huh?”

“Yeah, she isn’t exactly Mom.” And there, I said it. I hope he doesn’t notice. I open my mouth to add something, whatever, to get us off the subject, but he jumps in before me.

“You miss your mother?”

Silence.

Snowmen. Hot chocolate. Cold summer lakes. Blue lips.

So YA is kind of new for me. It’s not my usual genre-of-choice, but I love Sunniva’s writing and I figured if she was going to try something new, then I could, too. Plus, I really wanted to hear Cugs’ story. And I’m so glad I did. Cugs is the perfect example of a good guy stuck in terrible circumstances. And man, you can’t help but root for this guy. Cugs was everything I hoped he would be, I loved him. I loved watching him overcome and figure himself out and I especially loved watching him fall in love. I found it so unusual to be reading a story completely from a guys point of view, but I don’t think it could have been done any better. And Nadine was a great heroine. If I had one single critique of this book, it’s that I would have loved more of Cugs and Nadine, but then again…I am Obsessed with Romance.

As always, Sunniva’s writing style isn’t like anyone else’s. She makes the words bend to fit her narrative instead of making her story fit the words. Sometimes it takes me a minute to settle into one of her books, but once I do, I’m completely lost in the world she created. And I loved being lost in there with Cugs. I especially loved the tie-ins to her previous novel, Dodging Trains. I’ll be honest, I don’t think YA is my thing, and I had to remind myself, once or twice, that this was the story of Cugs’ journey, not the story of his romance. But it was a spectacular journey and I’m so glad I was along for the ride.

Author Bio:

Between studies, teaching, and advising, Sunniva has spent her entire adult life in a college environment. Most of her novels are new adult romance geared toward smart, passionate readers with a love for eclectic language and engaging their brain as well as their heart while reading.

Born in the Land of the Midnight Sun, the author spent her early twenties making the world her playground. Southern Europe: Spain, Italy, Greece–Argentina: Buenos Aires, in particular. The United States finally kept her interest, and after half a decade in Los Angeles, she now lounges in the beautiful city of Savannah.

Sometimes, Sunniva writes with a paranormal twist (Shattering Halos, Stargazer, and Cat Love). At other times, it’s contemporary (Pandora Wild Child, Leon’s Way, Adrenaline Crush, Walking Heartbreak, and Dodging Trains, coming in late March 2016).

This author is the happiest when her characters let their emotions run off with them, shaping her stories in ways she never foresaw. She loves bad-boys and good-boys run amok, and like in real life, her goal is to keep the reader on her toes until the end of each story.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Pinterest / Tsu.co

 

GIVEAWAY!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

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🔥🔥New Release🔥🔥 Callie Unleashed by Amy Jo Cousins

Grab Callie, Unleashed on Amazon

If you can’t stop thinking about one man, get under another.

A scorching hot one-night stand with her ex Gabe and his current lover was just what Callie needed to start her recovery from a decade-long sexless marriage. One night only, because anything more than that with the man she’d never quite gotten over would be too dangerous. And the threesome was even more fun and filthy than she’d fantasized it would be.

Now Callie’s supposed to be moving onto new erotic adventures, without Gabe. Or thoughts of Gabe. No Gabe, damn it. But somehow her ex keeps getting caught up in her plans, and Callie can’t make herself say no when Gabe offers to accompany her—strictly as her platonic safety-measure friend—to a BDSM club.

Callie’s trying to be smart, to protect herself and explore this fascinating new world at the same time. And she does actually feel safer knowing Gabe is close when Alejandro, the sexy Dom she meets, introduces her to her first experiences with submission. But when Ale picks up on the ever-present sexual tension between Callie and Gabe, Callie’s going to learn just how far an experienced Dom can push two people who aren’t sure where their boundaries lie.

Amy Jo is simply a spectacular writer (if you don’t believe me just read her book Off Campus!! It is amazing). So when I found her M/F/F erotic novella Callie, Unwrapped, I grabbed it immediately. I mean menage erotica from Amy Jo is a must have. BUT what ended up blowing me away was how much MORE than erotica that book was. It’s an amazing story full of characters with the kind of depth you don’t usually find in erotica or novellas. I was flat out shocked at how well rounded the story was, how invested in the characters I became and how much I needed to find out where this story goes.

Enter Callie, Unleashed!!!

I was ecstatic when this one hit my kindle and even more excited when I actually read it. It’s even better than the first one. Like amazingly better (and I really didn’t think she could top Callie, Unwrapped) First this book is HAWT. Like light bdsm, M/F/M menage hot. But sex aside, I am so freaking in love with Callie and with Gabe. These two characters have history and heartbreak and unresolved emotions you just can’t help but be caught up in. I understand them, I believe their struggles, I’m rooting for them. I adore them. I was so freaking excited to be back in the middle of their story. NOW, I can’t wait for the conclusion!! (hint hint Amy)

So, bottom line is this….READ THESE. I promise you won’t be disappointed. If you have ever thought you wanted to give an Amy Jo book a try, here is the perfect opportunity. Read THESE. If you never thought about reading an Amy Jo book (first, what’s the matter with you???) Second…Read THESE.