All posts by Wenn

RUCKUS by L.J Shen * Review*

Title: Ruckus
Series: Sinners of Saint #2
Author: L.J. Shen
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 26, 2017

“This series is one of the best I’ve read all year”Angie, Angie’s Dreamy Reads

“LJ Shen delivers and then some. I am loving this series.”Kylie Scott New York Times Bestseller

“It’s unpredictable, raw, emotional, and edgy- pure chaos contained in a beautiful package.”TJ Loves Books

“LJ Shen just wrote her best love story ever!” DD’s Boom Room

Rosie
They say that life is a beautiful lie and death a painful truth. They’re right.
No one has ever made me feel more alive than the guy who serves as a constant reminder that my clock is ticking.
He is my forbidden, shiny apple.
The striking fallacy to my blunt, raw, truth.
He is also my sister’s ex-boyfriend.
One thing you should know before you judge me;
I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first.
Eleven years later, he waltzed into my life, demanding a second chance.
Dean Cole wants to be my bronze horseman. My white knight has finally arrived. Hopefully, he isn’t too late.
Dean

They say the brightest stars burn out the fastest. They’re right.
She sets my mind on fire.
All smart mouth, snarky attitude and a huge heart.
In a world where everything is dull, she shines like fucking Sirius.
Eleven years ago, fate tore us apart.
This time, I fucking dare it to try.
Getting to her is a battlefield, but man, that’s why they call me Ruckus.
Rosie LeBlanc is about to find out how hard I can fight.
And conquering her will be the sweetest victory.

If you thought Vicious was a GREAT book, get ready for something way GREATER.

I HAVE NO WORDS LEFT.

I don’t even know how to tell you how emotionally drained I am now that I finished this book. It stirred up so many emotions in me. It was a war between my love for these characters and life itself.

But one thing is certain, this story is wonderful.

It will captivate you from the beginning till the very last word. Even the epilogue drove me crazy!
And I’m not talking crazy like being curious about what’s going to happen.
Oh no, I’m talking crazy like “do not read this in public if you don’t want people to wonder what’s happening to you.” (e.g. Sweat, tears, anger, sadness, smile on your face, uncomfortable movments due to scorching hot scenes…)

It will captivate you, making you mad, anxious, devastated.

You know, this feeling when you have your fingers so numb, you realise you’ve been clutching your kindle so hard, and breathing so loud, panting even, well it happened to me reading this book. I wasn’t able to put it down.

Definitely one of my favourite books this year, I would recommend it to anyone who loves a true love story with its ups and downs, its mistakes, its heart mending moments. This book, for me, shows and defines the meaning of true love.

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L.J. Shen resides in sunny California with her husband, son, chubby cat and wild, wild dreams.Her passion is to write badass stories, sushi, UFC and her awesome family and friends (not in this order, though. Obviously, sushi comes before writing. Oh, and also the family part.)

She spend the first half of her twenties traveling the world and is now paying all the fun with extra shifts in front of her MacBook. Feel free to contact her on her Facebook page. She loves to hear from her readers.


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Ruckus by L.J Shen is LIVE

Title: Ruckus
Series: Sinners of Saint #2
Author: L.J. Shen
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 26, 2017
Rosie
They say that life is a beautiful lie and death a painful truth. They’re right.
No one has ever made me feel more alive than the guy who serves as a constant reminder that my clock is ticking.
He is my forbidden, shiny apple.
The striking fallacy to my blunt, raw, truth.
He is also my sister’s ex-boyfriend.
One thing you should know before you judge me;
I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first.
Eleven years later, he waltzed into my life, demanding a second chance.
Dean Cole wants to be my bronze horseman. My white knight has finally arrived. Hopefully, he isn’t too late.
Dean

They say the brightest stars burn out the fastest. They’re right.
She sets my mind on fire.
All smart mouth, snarky attitude and a huge heart.
In a world where everything is dull, she shines like fucking Sirius.
Eleven years ago, fate tore us apart.
This time, I fucking dare it to try.
Getting to her is a battlefield, but man, that’s why they call me Ruckus.
Rosie LeBlanc is about to find out how hard I can fight.
And conquering her will be the sweetest victory.
L.J. Shen resides in sunny California with her husband, son, chubby cat and wild, wild dreams.Her passion is to write badass stories, sushi, UFC and her awesome family and friends (not in this order, though. Obviously, sushi comes before writing. Oh, and also the family part.)

She spend the first half of her twenties traveling the world and is now paying all the fun with extra shifts in front of her MacBook. Feel free to contact her on her Facebook page. She loves to hear from her readers.


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RUCKUS by L.J Shen <3 COVER REVEAL <3

Title: Ruckus
Series: Sinners of Saint #2
Author: L.J. Shen
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 26, 2017
Rosie
They say that life is a beautiful lie and death a painful truth. They’re right.
No one has ever made me feel more alive than the guy who serves as a constant reminder that my clock is ticking.
He is my forbidden, shiny apple.
The striking fallacy to my blunt, raw, truth.
He is also my sister’s ex-boyfriend.
One thing you should know before you judge me;
I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first.
Eleven years later, he waltzed into my life, demanding a second chance.
Dean Cole wants to be my bronze horseman. My white knight has finally arrived. Hopefully, he isn’t too late.
Dean

They say the brightest stars burn out the fastest. They’re right.
She sets my mind on fire.
All smart mouth, snarky attitude and a huge heart.
In a world where everything is dull, she shines like fucking Sirius.
Eleven years ago, fate tore us apart.
This time, I fucking dare it to try.
Getting to her is a battlefield, but man, that’s why they call me Ruckus.
Rosie LeBlanc is about to find out how hard I can fight.
And conquering her will be the sweetest victory.

L.J. Shen resides in sunny California with her husband, son, chubby cat and wild, wild dreams.Her passion is to write badass stories, sushi, UFC and her awesome family and friends (not in this order, though. Obviously, sushi comes before writing. Oh, and also the family part.)

She spend the first half of her twenties traveling the world and is now paying all the fun with extra shifts in front of her MacBook. Feel free to contact her on her Facebook page. She loves to hear from her readers.

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Traitor by Alyson Santos – Cover Reveal

Traitor
Alyson Santos
Publication date: June 6th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

They may be refugees but Andie Sorenson never chose to flee when government forces abduct her to the “safety” of a military-operated compound. Caught in an ugly civil war no one understands, she’s now a number, a uniform, her future reduced to three stale meals a day with the strangers who share her fate. She’s nothing, no one—until a random act of compassion and an electric smile turn her prison into a refuge.

It’s his eyes, his heart, his beautiful soul drowning in an ocean of secrets. Lance Corporal Kaleb Novelli is an enigma, but with each plunge through another layer, Andie finds herself captured in a way she never imagined. She knows they have no future. They can’t even have a present, but that doesn’t stop her heart from committing to a man she can never have. The only one she trusts in this battle of lies and manipulation.

But they’ve found their paradise in hell, and she can’t shake the feeling that Kaleb Novelli is not just a player. He’s the game.

Add to Goodreads / Release Party

 

Author Bio:

I’m a writer, musician, and cat lover. I also have an alternative music obsession. Seriously, it’s a real problem.

I write what needs to come out, whether it’s pain, tears, or laughter. I write people and relationships, about the beauty and horror of what we do to ourselves and each other. I write Love. Vengeance. Compassion. Cruelty. Trust. Betrayal. Forgiveness. Darkness, and the incredible way humans destroy and heal each other.

I like to eradicate barriers, refusing to be confined by the laws of physics or limitations of reality. I will befriend a vast population of possibilities and introduce them in ways that might surprise you.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

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Complicated Hearts by Ashley Jade 💘 Cover Reveal 💘

 

Title: Complicated Hearts: Book 1
Author: Ashley Jade
Genre: Young Adult
Cover Design: Book Babe
Release Date: June 8, 2017

 

Blurb

Breslin
I was in love with Asher Holden the moment I saw him…and I knew nothing would ever be the same.
Then he hurt me. He wrecked me. He ruined me.
I spent three years putting myself together fixing what he broke.
I never thought I’d see him again after that day.
I was counting on it.
Little did I know life had other plans…and things were going to become a lot more complicated.

 


Asher
I finally know who I am. I own it, I embrace it…I’m no longer afraid.
I live my life with no regrets now, because I’ve learned my lesson the hard way.
I thought I had it all figured out.
But then my past collides with my present…and things become complicated.
Turns out I don’t really know myself after all.

 


Landon
My life was all mapped out.
I knew exactly what direction I was heading in I didn’t have time for any roadblocks or obstacles.
Then I meet her.
And him.
Now, my heart is split right down the middle.
She controls the rhythm. He controls the melody.
Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it…and there’s only one way this can end.

 


Warning: This story is for mature readers only, due to language and sexual themes. This duet contains explicit content featuring m/f, m/m, m/f/m. Reader discretion is advised.

 


Trigger Warning:
This story is strange and unconventional. It’s everything you hate. That’s the only warning I can offer you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author Bio

Ashley Jade is a lover of contemporary romance, erotica, new adult, dark romance, oxford commas, the em dash, peanut butter on her cookies, coffee, and anything thought provoking…except for math.
She’s always read books growing up and after having a strange dream one night; she decided to just go for it and publish her first series.

Little did she know— she would end up falling head over heels in love with writing.

If she’s not paying off student loan debt, working, or writing a novel—you can usually find her listening to music, hanging out with her readers online, and pondering the meaning of life.

Check out her amazon page and Facebook page for future novels.
She recently became hip and joined Twitter, so you can find her there, too.

She loves connecting with her readers—they make her world go round’.

~Happy Reading~

Feel free to email her with any questions/comments:
ashleyjadeauthor@gmail.com

Author Links

Just Like That by Nicola Rendell * Release Day *

 

 

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AP new - synopsis.jpg

“I bet I can untangle you.”

At an airport baggage claim, Penny Darling looks up from her knotted mess of ear buds to find the sexiest hunk of man she’s ever seen. He’s got a military haircut, a scar through his eyebrow, and he’s rocking a pastel pink dress shirt like only a real man can. But Penny is on a man-free diet so she leaves the airport without succumbing to his delicious double-entendres…or his dreamy dimples.

PI Russ Macklin can’t take his eyes off Penny. As she sashays out of the airport with hips swaying and curls bouncing, he suspects they may share more than just sweltering chemistry. That suitcase she’s rolling along behind her? It looks a lot like his.

Because it is.

When he tracks her down, he holds her bag hostage in exchange for a date. Their night begins with margaritas and ends in urgent care, and Russ proves that Cosmo’s theory about a very particular type of orgasm was oh-so-wrong.

In Penny, Russ finds a small-town sweetheart with a very naughty side. For the first time ever, he’s thinking about picket fences. Penny finds in Russ a loving, caring man who understands the power of massaging showerheads.

But Russ is only in Port Flamingo for a week. They agree it’ll be a fling and nothing more. Because really, they can’t fall ass-over-teakettle in love just like that…

Can they?

99k words. HEA. Dual POV. No cheating.
Featuring a big drooly dog named Guppy.

 



Russ

​In my shopping cart, I’ve got assorted gifts: a box of wine, like I saw in her fridge; every kind of salt-and-vinegar potato chips they sell; a box of Dots; some Kama Sutra warming massage oil because I couldn’t fucking resist.
And that just leaves one more thing.
I put my basket down by a display of cupcakes and clear my throat. “I need to get something written on a cake.”
The baker turns around. She pulls her hairnet off her head and says, “I’m leaving for the night, sir. I can take your order, but it’ll have to be for tomorrow.”
This part can’t wait. Penny needs to know I’m not sleeping on this. She needs to know I listened to every single thing she said—every last detail, every last word.
I lean forward, putting my hands on the curved glass case. I glance at the baker’s nametag and then look her in the tired, baggy eyes. “Jacquie. It’s urgent. I fucked up, and I need to apologize.”
“The bait shop has some nice carnations. Usually.”
“Already tried that. Didn’t take.”
She gives me a stern stare, like if the blue carnations didn’t do it, I must really be in the shit.
“Jacquie. Please.”
She inhales long and hard, pursing her lips tight. “I’ve got my bowling group in twenty minutes.” She points backward toward the freezers, and I see a turquoise bowling shirt hanging on the back of a door. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t have time.” She starts undoing her apron, which is a smudgy, colorful explosion of frostings. “Like I said, come back tomorrow. I’ll be glad to do whatever you’d like then.”
I pull out my wallet and open the billfold. “I’ll pay your overtime. I’ll pay your lane fees. I’ll buy you a new goddamned pair of bowling shoes. Whatever you want.” I put a fifty on the counter, next to the crumbly remains of some free cookies. “I just need a cake, tonight, with a message written on it.”
She looks at the money and then back at me.
“Jacquie. We’re talking about…” What the hell are we talking about? Chemistry? Sparks? That feeling in my gut that I’ve never felt before? Happiness? No, it’s more than that, and there’s only one word for it. “Love, Jacquie. We’re talking about love.”
Holy fuck. As soon as I say it, I know it’s true. Just a few days with Penny and I’m saying the word I’ve never said before—the one I never thought I’d ever say at all.
She lowers her nose, crumpling her chin into her throat. “Love?”
“Love. Like love-at-first-sight, different-planet, just-like-that love.”
She sighs hard, considering the cash. And then finally she untangles her hairnet from her palm, slipping it over her crunchy curls. “Five minutes. Pick out your cake. I’ve only got time for writing, though. No extra flowers. No balloons. No decoration. No sprinkles. We’re clear?”
“Jacquie, you’re a life saver,” I say, and pull a small round cake, decorated with pink roses, from the display shelf below. I slide it across the bakery case as she reties her apron. Then she takes a pad of paper and hands me a pen.
“Print what you want. Nice and clear. No cursive. I’m not letting one of my cakes become a hashtag bakery fail, all right?” She puts on a pair of plastic food service gloves and pops the lid off the cake. She sets it on a pedestal to the left of the register.
I pick up the pen and look at the blank pad, thinking about what I want to say and how.
It isn’t Shakespeare. It’s the truth. Six words does the job. When I’m finished, I put the pad on the other side of the case. “There.”
Her gloves crinkle as she reads it, and then she recoils a little. She gives me a shame on you shake of her head. “Sir, this is a family establishment. I can’t write that on a cake.”
I pull another fifty out of my wallet. “How about now?”

 



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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

 

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Riptide by Kathryn Nolan

Avery Dacosta never expected to find a protester in front of her office.
 
Especially not now, when she’s this close to achieving a professional milestone years in the making: building a luxury hotel on Playa Vieja, San Diego’s untouched beach paradise.
 
Finn Travis, local surfer and all-around nice guy, never expected to find himself the leader of Playa Vieja’s resistance. He’s more of a mellow tree-hugger than a radical activist. Except Avery’s hotel threatens to destroy the place he loves the most. For the first time in his life, Finn decides to use his charisma for more than just attracting his next fling.
 
Avery’s worked too hard to let a bongo-playing hippie like Finn shatter her perfect future. And his naive idealism grates on her every nerve.
She’s not alone in her loathing: Finn thinks Avery is a greedy, corporate robot.
 
As Avery and Finn crash together like waves against the shore, their debates become heated. Sexy.
 
Dirty.

But the riptide of their attraction jeopardizes more than just their ideological values. Can Avery and Finn be together without giving up what they care about the most?
Kathryn Nolan writes erotic romance novels and quick-and-dirty novellas. She loves a smart, strong heroine. She likes her heroes filthy-mouthed (and not afraid to bend a little).

 

 
And she’s all about that slow-burn sexual tension.
 
When she’s not at her day job (which is top-secret) she enjoys feminism, foreplay and having her nose in a book.
 
She’s a morning writer, a bike commuter, and the world’s biggest X-Files fan.
 
Cuffed

 

Chapter Reveal * Just Like That * by Nicola Rendell

 

 

Coming April 10th
Pre-order exclusively via
iBooks HERE
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AP new - synopsis.jpg

“I bet I can untangle you.”

At an airport baggage claim, Penny Darling looks up from her knotted mess of ear buds to find the sexiest hunk of man she’s ever seen. He’s got a military haircut, a scar through his eyebrow, and he’s rocking a pastel pink dress shirt like only a real man can. But Penny is on a man-free diet so she leaves the airport without succumbing to his delicious double-entendres…or his dreamy dimples.

PI Russ Macklin can’t take his eyes off Penny. As she sashays out of the airport with hips swaying and curls bouncing, he suspects they may share more than just sweltering chemistry. That suitcase she’s rolling along behind her? It looks a lot like his.

Because it is.

When he tracks her down, he holds her bag hostage in exchange for a date. Their night begins with margaritas and ends in urgent care, and Russ proves that Cosmo’s theory about a very particular type of orgasm was oh-so-wrong.

In Penny, Russ finds a small-town sweetheart with a very naughty side. For the first time ever, he’s thinking about picket fences. Penny finds in Russ a loving, caring man who understands the power of massaging showerheads.

But Russ is only in Port Flamingo for a week. They agree it’ll be a fling and nothing more. Because really, they can’t fall ass-over-teakettle in love just like that…

Can they?

99k words. HEA. Dual POV. No cheating.
Featuring a big drooly dog named Guppy.


1
Russ

 

I step off the escalator, and there she is. She’s looking down, doing something with her phone. Air conditioning blows on her from above, making the hem of her purple dress flutter against her leg. And fuck, look at those legs. Look at that body. Look at that woman. Underneath the dress, instead of a bra she’s wearing the top half of a pink bikini, tied at the nape of her neck in a bow.
​Welcome to Florida. God bless the Sunshine State.
​The place is dismal, except for her. On the walls are 1980s tourism posters, rippling with the humidity. All the guys have Magnum, P.I. mustaches, and all the women look like extras from Baywatch. She’s a vision in the middle of all of it, an oasis at the goddamned baggage claim. I circle the clumps of old people bumping into each other with walkers, like slow-motion bumper cars. As I get closer, I see her face. Her freckles, her slightly shiny pink lips. Her breasts, which are fucking beautiful. But her expression, it isn’t beautiful. It’s seriously pissed. Nostrils flared, teeth set, jaw clenched.
​In her hands is a whole big tangle of ear buds, and maybe a phone charger. A big knot of cords, like a wad of cold pasta.
​I get closer. Not too close, because I don’t want to be that guy, but close enough to see the small starfish necklace dangling from her neck, and close enough to smell something warm, and sweet. Familiar. Vanilla, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s fucking delicious.
​On the wall behind her is a big banner. It’s got a faded old cartoon flamingo, flapping his wings and grinning. Underneath is the caption:
WELCOME TO PORT FLAMINGO! HOME OF THE FIRST AIR CONDITIONER!
​No shit. Because it’s hot, and I don’t mean like ordinary summertime hot. I mean hot like the time the sauna malfunctioned at my gym and turned all the drywall in the locker room into oatmeal. She doesn’t look hot at all though. She looks cool, and soft, and beautiful. Just the thing I need. Like a vodka soda after a long fucking day.
​I set my shoulder bag at my feet and take off my suit jacket. Her braid comes down over one shoulder, the curl at the bottom nestling into her cleavage. I roll up my sleeves. “I bet I can untangle you.”
​She looks up at me. Her eyes are deep blue and sparkling. A smile starts to pinch her cheeks. The end of the charger swings between us. “I’m okay. Got myself into this mess, got to get myself out of it.”
​“Sometimes two is better than one.”
​She smacks her lips at the cords. “Sometimes.” She pulls hard on the plug end, making the wires tighten even more. “You’d think I’d learn to keep that little plastic box that comes with these, but oh no, every—” She tugs. “—single.” Tugs again. “—time.”
Granted, she’s not exactly in need of rescue from a burning building, but no way am I going to stand here and watch her struggle, no fucking way. Without another word, I start undoing the end of the tangle that’s nearest me, and I watch that smile of hers get bigger. She doesn’t look at me, but I see a dimple, and she bites her lip.
Still focused on the knot, she says, “Let me guess. You’re not from around here, are you?”​
Can’t imagine what gave me away. Maybe the fact that I’m the only guy in the building wearing slacks and actual shoes. “Here on business.”
She looks me up and down. “What kind of business? FBI?”
Fuck. Not the first conversation I want to have, definitely not. Also, I don’t know a single fed who wears pants this nice. “Private business.”
“Hmmm.” She eyes me more mischievously. “Tall, dark, and a military haircut. Something tells me you’re not here to do some competitive bass fishing. “
Oh man. Cute. Really cute. “No, I’m not.”
Slowly, the tangle comes undone, until we’re in the middle together. Reminds me of that scene in Lady and the Tramp.
But before I can say anything more—like, for instance, I’m down for 20 questions, as long as it’s over a drink—the buzzer on the carousel roars to life, as loud as a tornado siren. The crush of people starts to tighten around the conveyor. She winds the three sets of ear buds and the cord around her palm. From the pocket of my bag, I take out the plastic case that came with my ear buds and hand it over. “There.”
She laughs through her nose. “I’ll be okay.”
“I insist.” I press it into her hand, and her eyes meet mine.
“I’ll bet you do.” She looks away as a blush covers her cheeks.
The bags start to rumble off the conveyor. For one long second, she watches me, smiling. Sizing me up. The little curls around her face tremble in the air conditioning, and I’m about to say You, me, a pitcher of margaritas, tonight when she looks away and hoists her purse up on her shoulder.
“That’s my bag,” she says. “I should get going. Thanks for…untangling me.”
She steps away and threads her way between a handful of old ladies in walkers. I know I should help her, I know I should grab her bag, but holy fuck look at that body.
​She grabs her bag herself and flips up the handle.
“Give me your number. Let me take you out for dinner.”
​Her smile dissolves into a scowl. “You married?”
I shake my head slowly. “I’m a lot of things, but married definitely isn’t one of them.”
“Separated?”
Shake my head again. “Nope.”
She takes her starfish charm between thumb and forefinger and loops the chain over her lip. “Under any restraining orders? Involved in a complicated love triangle that your Match.com profile describes as an open marriage? Divorced five times and counting? Polyamorous?”
Whoa. This girl’s got to find a new dating pool, stat. “Promise. I’m Russ, and what you see is what you get.”
Zip-zip-zip goes her necklace.
“Just a drink.” I lift my hands out between us, to say C’mon. “Maybe dinner, if I make the cut.”
She blinks hard a few times and she drops her necklace charm. “I’m sorry. You’re sweet, but I can’t.”
Well, fuck it. The first time I try to get back in the saddle in ages and the goddamn thing slides right down onto the ground again. I respect it though. I don’t want to overdo this, so I give her a final nod and clear my throat. “Had to try.”
She swallows hard. “I’m glad you did.”
Fuck.
And she’s gone. As she goes, her hips sway with her dress. She works that sashay, as my aunt says, like a fucking pro. She looks back over her shoulder, only once, as she walks through the sliding doors. I give her a wink.
And she fucking winks back.
Jesus Christ.
She takes a left out of the door, which means she isn’t gone yet. Not by a long shot. The architecture does me a favor, and I get to watch her sashay right past the floor-to-ceiling windows. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, not even if I wanted to. She smiles at the sidewalk without looking up, and laughs a little. Like she knows I’m watching her and is feeling pretty good about it.
​God, what a cutie. And what a bummer. She was fucking sexy, she seemed sweet, and there was something about her that was up to no good. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was somewhere between the bikini top and I’m glad you did. But the spark wasn’t all we had in common. I realize, as she finally disappears from view, she also has a bag that looks just like mine.
Medium-sized black Samsonite. Sensible, dependable. Number One Amazon Bestseller in Luggage.
​But that couldn’t be my bag, I think to myself as I turn back toward the conveyor. Couldn’t be.


***

​It was. Twenty minutes later, I’m the only guy standing by the carousel, and there’s a single black bag going around and around in front of me. It’s exactly the same as mine, except it’s overstuffed and has a pink puff of yarn tied to the handle. Same color as her bikini top and literally hanging by a thread.
​It slides to a stop, and the yarn ball swings off the side of the carousel. Tick-tock, tick-tock.
​A rattle from the center of the conveyor sounds promising—I was early connecting through Atlanta, so my bag had to be the first one on—but no dice. What comes off the conveyor isn’t a bag at all, but instead one of the baggage guys in big set of protective earphones and a reflective vest. He crawls up through the flap and pokes his head out. He wipes his forehead on his bare leathery shoulder and then looks from me to the bag and back again. “Nice pom-pom, man,” he says and backtracks down the hole.
​I glance around for some airport help on this, but all I see is a handwritten sign at the baggage claim desk. Will Return On Monday!
​It’s Saturday.
​Christ.
​As I take hold of the bag, I notice it’s got not one but three “LIFT WITH CAUTION” tags: the first one new, the second one beat up, and the third one halfway shredded, all together the way people keep lift tickets from ski areas. I give it a hoist. The thing is so heavy it makes me grunt like I’m doing a dead lift. With a two-handed lug, I yank it off the conveyor and set it on the ground, wheels down.
​Squeezing the roller handle, I pull it up…and it snaps off right in my hand. The arms stick up from the suitcase like the tines of a fork.
​I clench my eyes shut and think back to “the most helpful critical review” from Amazon. “Looks like every other bag on the planet. Sh**ty handle.”
​Touché. But it is what it is. Which is her bag, hopefully.
​I wheel it along to a bank of benches, by some old beat-up phone booths, lining the far wall. I open up the ID pouch and read:

PENELOPE DARLING
125 E. BEACH POINT DRIVE
PORT FLAMINGO, FL 34102

I bite down on my gum and groan. How cute is that name? Jesus Christ, come on. Penny Darling. What’s more, it’s not a business card or typed up like mine, but written by hand. Her writing is sweet, pretty, and feminine, with big plump letters written in bright pink marker that’s bled into the plastic cover, so they’ve got a haze around them like neon lights. And there, at the bottom.
​Her number.
​Jackpot.
​It might not be my smoothest move, but I’ll take it. I pull my phone from my pocket and give her a call. As I wait for the ringtone, I decide to hell with suave and understated. I want her, and I need her to know it.
​But then in my ear I hear, “Mobile Network Temporarily Unavailable.”
​Goddamned Verizon, jamming up my plans. So I try to text her instead.

This is Russ.
From the airport.
I’ve got your bag and I think you’ve got mine.
How about that drink?

​I hit send, and I’m answered immediately with a row of red exclamation points and four repetitions of NOT DELIVERED. What. The. Fuck.
​Then I noticed my cell service flips over from 1 bar, to Roaming, to Searching for service…
​ I pull my hot pack of gum from my sweaty pocket and take out a second piece. The gum is weirdly melted even before I put it in my mouth.
​The options now are pretty simple: I could touch base with the guy who hired me to come down here to the land that Verizon forgot or…
​I think about those tan lines, the curve of her hips. That bikini. The glisten on her rosy lips. The way she wrinkled her nose when she smiled.
​Why is this even a goddamned question? It’s four o’clock on a Saturday. A beautiful woman is on East Beach Point Drive with all my stuff. And somewhere in this town, I’ll bet there’s a beachside bar with a pitcher of margaritas with our names on it.

 

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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

 

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The Sex Bucket List by Prescott Lane – Blog Tour –

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The Sex Bucket List by Prescott Lane
Release Date: March 9th
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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I’m Emerson, and my “to do” list is longer than I’d like. You might wonder what kind of woman comes up with a sex bucket list? Answer — the kind who’s been in a sex drought, has two crazy girlfriends encouraging her, and one too many bottles of wine.

This kind of list requires special skill. And I have just the man in mind to help me. He’s younger. So that checks one thing off my list. And he’s the kind of man every woman should sleep with at least once in her life. The kind of man who knows his way around a woman’s body. And God, I’d like him to know mine.

Armed with new lingerie and a fancy high-tech vibrator, I’m taking charge. Of love, of life, and my libido. How hard can that be? Well, judging by the rate of pole dancing injuries, I might be in trouble.

But how much trouble can one woman get in? Giving your panties to a stranger isn’t illegal in Georgia, is it?

Grab a pen and make your own Sex Bucket List!

Excerpt:

Our kiss is hard and rough, and it has my legs clenching together. His hands go to my ass, pulling my dress up slightly, lifting me up onto the edge of my desk, grinding against me. Wearing a wrap dress today was a good call. I usually wear wrap dresses because they are no fuss, add a nice cinch to my waist, and feel like pajamas. Easy access wasn’t one of the reasons, but I’m thankful for it now.

Wrestling with his shirt, I yank it out of his pants, desperate to feel his skin under my fingertips. His tongue finds my neck, and he kisses a path along my collarbone. I thrust against every hard inch of him. He pulls on the tie of my dress, and I wrap my legs around his waist. Picking me up, he pushes me up against the floor-to-ceiling window.

I can’t remember the last time a guy banged me up against a wall, or a window, for that matter. This is a perk of being with a younger man. Am I really going to do this? In my office? In the middle of the day? He must feel my hesitation because he lowers my legs to the ground, flipping me towards the window, his hard dick pushing up against my ass, his warm breath tickling my neck.

He whispers in my ear, “Number 19. Orgasm in a public place. I’m saying this counts.” I look down the few stories to the busy Atlanta street, the neighboring building. Roughly, he forces my legs apart with his foot then reaches his hand between my legs and pushes my panties to the side. “Your list belongs to me,” he says, his voice hard.

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Read Today!

(Free in Kindle Unlimited)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2m0FrlU

Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/dB7JFy

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About the Author:

Prescott Lane is the Amazon best-selling author of Stripped Raw. She’s got six other books under her belt including: First Position, Perfectly Broken, Quiet Angel, Wrapped in Lace, Layers of Her, and The Reason for Me. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and holds a degree in sociology and a MSW from Tulane University. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren’t enough happily ever afters in real life.

Connect with the Author:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PrescottLane1

Twitter: @prescottlane1

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2lfhlrh

Instagram: instagram.com/prescottlane1

http://www.authorprescottlane.com

Unforgiven by Ruth Clampett — Excerpt & Review —

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Unforgiven, an all-new sexy and emotional M/M love story from Ruth Clampett available now!!

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Unforgiven by Ruth Clampett
Publication Date: March 9th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Would you live a lie to hold onto the one you love?

Dean and Jason are best friends, like brothers since boyhood, now architecture students and college roommates. They’ve always had each other’s back, but when one walks in on the other with another man, everything changes. How do you explain to your best friend that he’s the one you’ve always wanted, that until now your life has been a lie?

Desperation and shame are two dirty words that run through Jason’s veins. He carries the scars from a wayward priest who stole his innocence and left him shattered. Meanwhile for years he’s watched Dean pursuing woman after woman, as his own heart slowly breaks.

When their world blows apart, they learn the powerful bond between them has more fire than either understood. Can two broken souls find the light in their darkness and come together to make a whole, or will sins of the past be forever unforgiven?

Excerpt

“What started all of this tonight? First I walk in on you having sex with yourself … then you grill me about having sex with Ramon … and then you suggest we have sex.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “You’re making me crazy, dude. How much did you drink anyway?”

“Enough to loosen up and let my mind go places it normally doesn’t.”

His eyes light up. “I’ll say.”

“Hey, I’m really curious now. Will you let me fuck you? I promise I’ll follow what you want and take it slow.”

“Oh Jesus. Are you serious? So more experimenting, huh?”

“I think it’ll help me understand more about you.”

“You know when I said I needed more, this isn’t exactly what I meant. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of you fucking me is making me hard as hell, but it’ll just complicate things even more.”

“It doesn’t have to complicate things. Is it really so crazy to just want to make each other feel good?” I pause for a moment. “Come on, JJ.”

Lifting myself off the bed, I slowly approach him. As I get closer, I press my naked body into him so he’s up against the doorjamb, then I boldly rub my palm over his hard cock that’s trapped in his pajama bottoms.

I take a sharp breath because I’m shocked I’m even suggesting fucking my best friend. This is crazy, but feeling myself against him and imagining him naked under me is turning me on like a rocket with a sparking fuse.

He stands frozen, every part of him perfectly still, and then he gasps for air. “Please, Dean, please tell me you aren’t toying with me.”

I press my face into his neck. “I’m not toying with you, man. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I have all these confusing feelings and my curiosity is through the roof. I’ve been so damn restless lately, and suddenly I have a feeling that if I turn a corner, I might find myself right where I need to be.”

Jason slides his arm along my lower back and curves his fingers around my side, then pulls me closer. “Don’t make me hope for something, and then crush me. I wouldn’t be able to take it. Our friendship means everything to me. It’s why I’m still standing and fighting for a future, when for a long time I wasn’t sure if I deserved one.”

I pull my head back so we can be face to face. It guts me to see so much pain in his eyes. Why the hell didn’t I see all of this before? He’s my best friend, dammit. I should have known he was hurting.

He shakes his head. “I can’t lose you, Dean. I can’t. Tread carefully, man.” His eyes are glazed like he’s fighting back tears.

I take his hand and guide him into my room. “You aren’t going to lose me. Maybe this whole thing of me learning your secrets happened to bring us closer.”

“I want that,” he whispers, and then more softly he murmurs, “I want you.”

 

REVIEW

AMAZING !

As always I won’t sum up the book, I’ll just give you my honest opinion! 🙂

The first half of this book* is off the charts hot and addictive.
It is mostly a back and forth situation. I usually feel so fustrated about that but it was so well written, I was just compelled to read to know what would happen. It didn’t feel like it was dragging, it was a slow exploration of their feelings.
The building attraction between our two protagonists is so thick that when the time comes and they finally, tentatively, accept who and what they are to each other, the relief and satisfaction you will feel will be multiplied times 10.

The second part of the book was based on their friendship, the status of their relationship. It was both heart breaking and heart warming. These guys have each others back, in any situation and I loved that.

This book was great, deals with some traumatic experiences, contains HOT scenes, and is the kind of book you’ll want on your bookshelves to read and re-read!

*This book is not divided into two parts, it is just the feeling I had when reading it.

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Read Today!

(Free in Kindle Unlimited)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2lOmvaZ

Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/ocgIW2

Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/BLno9B

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About the Author:

Ruth Clampett, daughter of legendary animation director Bob Clampett, grew up surrounded by artists and animators. A graduate of Art Center College of Design, she has been VP of Design for Warner Brothers Studio Stores and taught photography at UCLA. Today she runs her own studio and as the Fine Art publisher for Warner Brothers Studios has come to know and work with some of the world’s greatest artists in the fields of animation and comics.

Ruth lives and works in Los Angeles, strictly supervised by her teenage daughter, who helps plan their summer around their yearly pilgrimage to the San Diego Comic Con.

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Connect with Ruth:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RuthClampettWrites/

Twitter: @RuthyWrites

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