Cover Reveal – Never Fall in Love with a Rockstar by Rachel Higginson

My name is Clover Calloway and I’ve lived two separate lives.

The first, I like to call “my past.” I never talk about it. I try not to think about it. My rockstar days of playing in one of the hottest bands on the planet are over. Along with the most volatile, beautiful, tragic love story of all time.

Over the past five years, I’ve settled into my second life. My “normal life.” The one where I work a normal job, hang out with normal people and fall in love with a normal, but wonderful guy. The life where I’m admittedly a little bored, but also safe.

My past wasn’t boring. But my past broke my heart into a million, unfixable pieces. So, I’m determined to keep it where it belongs—behind me.

And the man responsible for the shattering of me? Malachi Porter, lead singer and mastermind of Bright Tragedy, should stay there too. Far away from me and this idyllic life I’ve carved out for myself.

But what happens when my two lives collide?

When Malachi comes crashing into my perfectly normal world, he threatens to destroy it, promises to annihilate everything I’ve replaced him with.

He upends everything I thought I wanted and forces me to question the reasons I left Bright Tragedy all those years ago.

But I didn’t walk away five years ago, I ran. As fast as I could go. And while my heart is whispering that it’s different this time—that he’s different—my brain is screaming for me to run again.

Malachi Porter isn’t a normal guy. And he doesn’t belong in my “normal life.” But, nevertheless, he’s bound and determined to make a place for himself here.

I just hope my heart can survive him, that we don’t burn into another bright tragedy.

 

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Sneak Peek – Chapter 1 – Never Fall in Love with a Rockstar

Chapter One

My fingers flew over the keys. Up and down. Black and white. Sharp and natural and sharp, sharp, sharp. The damper pedal lifted with my momentum. I pressed down again, elongating the notes, pulling the best of the melody out of the song and letting it hang in the air, notes dancing and twirling and singing in the emotional symphony. Beethoven had never sounded so good.

I took a breath. Closing my eyes at the final, heart-stopping crescendo, I lifted my fingers and let the last notes resonate through the vaulted ceilings in perfect harmony.

When the sound died and the song drifted from the building, I couldn’t help but wait for applause. It was ingrained in my nature. My entire life I’d played to crowds much bigger than this one. And so, I sat there, my breath trapped inside my chest, my eyes closed in anticipation and… nothing.

There was no eruption of cheering and wild clapping. There was no demand for an encore. There was no stadium filled with rabid fans, blissed out at the end of the best show of their lives.

Only one person was clapping for this performance and it was Maya from the MAC makeup counter. And she only did it because she knew it made me happy. I grinned at her over my shoulder. She clapped louder, jumping up and down in a pure attempt to feed my ego.

A cluster of teenage girls moved between us, laughing and chatting, eyes glued on all the pretty things around them. I quickly turned away, ducking my head and focusing on the gorgeous grand piano that filled the center of the glistening lobby.

Nobody recognized me these days, but better safe than sorry.

When the shoppers had moved on, I gathered my music and slipped it inside a folder. Maya was still slow clapping by the time I reached the counter that was covered with tubes of lipstick.

“Woman, you were on fire today,” she cheered. “I was seriously moved by that last piece. Tears, Clover. Actual tears.” She pointed at the corner of her eye where her electric blue eyeliner was smudged.

“Moonlight Sonata.” I took a steadying breath, banishing the lingering emotions that clung to the edges of me. Beethoven’s masterful piece was one of my favorites too. And I rarely played it. But today I’d been in the mood for melancholy and memories. And that song, above all others, despite what the tabloids and bloggers said about me once upon a time, weighed the heaviest with my past. “It’s a good one.”

She leaned forward on her elbows. “You’re stupid good, you know that?”

I tilted my head, letting my long, fiery red curls fall over my shoulder and partially hide my face. “What you really mean is I’m good for Macy’s standards, right?” I looked behind me as Walter arrived and started to set up for his three-hour block. Macy’s hired us for elegant entertainment. We were the background music for the high-end department stores evening and weekend shoppers. There was a rotating total of six pianists and each of us were happy for the work. It was a relatively easy way to make a hundred bucks.

This was all part of my new normal. Trying to live and eat and sleep off the grind of regular employment.

Once upon a time, my piano-playing skills made me lots and lots of money. Not that I put in fewer hours. But it seemed easier to make money as a headline band dropping platinum albums.

It seemed easier, I realized. But it hadn’t been.

I breathed deeply of this normal life I lived now and smiled at the simplicity of it. Sorrow and heartache tugged at the corners of my thoughts, desperate to get my attention and claim some space in this adjusted life of mine, but I refused to give them room.

They were banished, along with everything else that used to be.

“Girl, I mean you’re good period. Stop playin’.”

“You’re really sweet. Thank you.”

She winked at me. “You’re welcome.”

“What is all this?” I asked, picking up a random tube of lipstick and turning it over. Russian Red. “Wow, this is bright.”

“Restocking,” she sighed. “It’s a pain in the ass. But also, better than giving tweens makeovers all day.”

“What about former tweens? Do you have time for one of those?”

She laughed her deep, throaty laugh that always made me smile. Maya and I had gotten to know each other slowly over the last few years after I’d first started playing at Macy’s. She’d been one of my most favorite parts of slowing down and finding normal.

She was a real friend. And a real person. There was nothing shallow about her. She jumped right into a deep friendship and demanded raw honesty. There were still parts of my life I kept a secret from her, but that wasn’t because I didn’t want to tell her the whole sordid history of how I’d ended up in Kansas City, Missouri. It was for her safety. And mine. And to honor all those pesky nondisclosures I’d signed.

Her big brown eyes widened. “Oh, my gosh, is tonight the night? The big night?”

I nibbled my bottom lip and nodded. “Yes.” My stomach flipped with anticipation for the surprise that waited for me just hours from now.

She leaned forward, bouncing on her toes with shared excitement. “What do you think it is? Oh, my gosh, what if he proposes?”

I lifted a shoulder and felt my stomach drop to my toes. Equal parts dread and hope spiraled through me, chasing each other, racing to see which emotion would win. “I have no idea what it is. He’s so excited though. He can barely contain himself. Yesterday, he had outfits spread out on his bed like he was deciding which one to wear.”

“Oh my god, Clover! This has to be it.”

I shrugged again. “It could honestly be anything, but a proposal, Maya? For real, that would be crazy.”

“Would you say yes?”

I took too long to think about my answer. Maya wanted an easy, breezy yes. She wanted to know that my relationship with Adam Shepherd was a whirlwind romance that had totally and completely swept me off my feet. She wanted a real-life romantic comedy and epic love story wrapped in one. She wanted me to be happy. And it was so sweet of her. But it was also unrealistic.

I’d already had all of that. And it had ended in the worst kind of tragedy.

Her question was supposed to have an easy answer. Even if I wasn’t ready for the proposal now, I was supposed to want it sometime, right?

Meet a normal guy. Fall in love with a normal guy. Marry a normal guy. Live a very normal happily ever after.

Every girl’s dream. Except mine.

“We’ve only been dating for six months,” I told her, laughing, playing it off, shining light on her absolutely ridiculous idea. “He hasn’t even told me he loves me yet.” A sick feeling rolled through my stomach, my body wholly rejecting the idea of saying those words to anyone.

She blinked, her fake lashes fanning over high cheekbones. “Oh.” Maya was a romantic to her bones. She wanted everyone to fall in love. If a man so much as knelt to tie his shoe in front of the makeup counter, she assumed it was some elaborate proposal stunt. “Well, maybe tonight’s the night for I love yous!”

My heart thrummed with the idea, bossing my nerves back in line. This was an easier question to answer, although she hadn’t asked it. Would I tell Adam I loved him if he said the words first? Yes. Yes, I would.

At least, I hoped I would.

Sometimes my mouth had a mind of its own.

I bat my lashes at her. “Better make me look pretty just in case.”

She grinned and grabbed the tube of Russian Red. “The good news is, if he doesn’t love you yet, he will after I’m done with you!”

Jumping up onto one of the high back stools, I set my messenger bag full of sheet music at my feet and waited patiently for Maya to make me gorgeous. The woman was a magician when it came to makeup. Seriously, she could make anything look beautiful.

Not that she had to try very hard. She was truly one of the most stunning women I had ever seen. Her dark skin was absolute perfection. Her natural hair, wild and curly and edgy, so perfectly fitting to her larger than life personality. And her curves the kind that every woman wanted, dreamed of, spent hours in the gym to get. She was one of MAC’s bestsellers consistently because everybody wanted to look like her.

Hell, most women wanted to be her.

Also, because she could transform anyone from blah to banging with a few mystical strokes of her brushes.

Thirty minutes later, I barely recognized myself in the small circular mirror on the counter. She’d given me smoky eyes, highlighted cheekbones, and dang that Russian Red if it didn’t look amazing on my lips next to my natural red hair.

“No way,” I whispered as she grinned over my shoulder. She’d highlight the dusting of freckles over my nose and under my eyes and given me perfectly porcelain skin that seemed to have no blemishes. Although, I knew that to be a lie. I looked better than I ever had.

I looked even better than when I’d had an actual makeup team.

“You’re going home with this lipstick,” she ordered. “You need to own it and wear it every damn day.”

“It makes my hair look so red.” I groaned. My hair and I had been at odds since I could remember. There was a time I did anything to hide the crimson curls. I straightened, I tied it back and hid it under stocking caps and finally, when the PR team got involved, I colored it in crazy vibrant colors like neon pink or bold purple. I loved the fun shades, even if I looked like a Barbie.

But, I’d given all that up five years ago and went back to my natural shade. The curls were more manageable than trying to straighten this mess every day. Eventually, my new hair stylist had found the perfect red to match my roots. I didn’t even get it dyed anymore. This was just me. Clover Callaway, completely natural. Completely anonymous.

Nobody expected the red curls. They were my new signature. And I was slowly learning to love them.

Like I was slowly learning to love this life.

“You’re welcome,” Maya repeated, laughing. “Tell you what. If I had your hair, I would rock the shit out of it.”

Now that I believed. “M, if I had your hair, I would never worry about my hair again.”

She bugged her eyes out at me. “You think this is easy? You have no idea how long this takes me every day.”

“Same,” I sighed.

Shaking her head, she murmured, “I guess the grass is always greener.”

“Now isn’t that the truth.”

An older woman and a thirty-something younger version of her stepped up to the counter, pointing out eye shadows. “That’s my cue,” Maya whispered, totaling up the lipstick with her employee discount.

I gave her my credit card. Honestly, whenever she picked out makeup for me, I gave her my money. Maya knew best. “Thanks for this.”

She grinned at me. “Good luck! I want all the details tomorrow.”

To be honest, I wasn’t expecting anything as grand as I love yous. Adam and I had met at one of my other jobs—local photographer. He had been a groomsman at a wedding I helped shoot. We’d hit it off when he’d gotten socked in the face with a wayward basketball.

The groomsmen and groom, while waiting for the bride and her attendants to get ready, had been messing around in the church’s gym. My photographer friend, River, and I had been shooting fun photos of the pickup game in their tuxes when Adam had gotten distracted and taken a ball to the face. Blood had gushed everywhere, spurting out his swollen nose all over his tux.

His excuse? He’d been staring at me and hadn’t seen it coming. I’d rushed to his aid and helped nurse his poor nose back to semi-normal, so he wouldn’t look like a cartoon for the wedding pictures.

He’d asked me out before the night was over, and now we were dating.

Adam was one of those guys that always made things easy. He was laid-back, responsible, and adorable. The last six months had been a surprising whirlwind of romantic dates and constant butterflies. And tonight, he’d planned something epic for our six-month anniversary.

I had never celebrated relationship anniversaries with anyone before, so my expectations were low. But I was also ridiculously excited. It made me feel special. I loved the idea of celebrating small milestones with this simmering anticipation for more to come.

And it just fit Adam in every way. Of course, he would make a sweet thing out of our six-month. Of course, he would make me feel cherished. Of course, he would make this about us. And not about himself.

I left Macy’s in my cool blue Mini Cooper, my favorite of all the cars in the world, and drove directly to his house. We lived across town from each other, so I didn’t have time to go all the way home after my shift before I was supposed to be at Adam’s house in Kansas City suburbia.

He was thirty-one with a stable job as an IT guy at a tech company, which seemed redundant to me. But he assured me even tech companies have tech problems.

His house was bigger than what he needed as a single guy. It seemed huge for him alone. When he’d first moved in, he’d shared it with three roommates. They’d all gotten married in the meantime and moved out. Over the last two years, he’d been slowly remodeling and updating. Making it his.

I didn’t know why I found that attractive, but I did. It showed me how stable he was. How reliable. How invested he was in his life.

And for those reasons, I loved his house. It was this symbol of responsible adulthood and trustworthiness.

It was an older one and a half story home with the master bedroom on the main floor and three bedrooms and an adorable terrace that looked out over his sprawling backyard. He’d let me plant a flower garden on the terrace last spring complete with pallet planters he’d built for me and hanging pots. It was my favorite place in the entire world.

The hot summer air stuck to my skin as I got out of my car and hurried toward his front door. I didn’t want to start sweating and ruin all of Maya’s hard work.

Pushing through the open door, I stepped inside, feeling a little extra ownership in Adam’s place. Six months was a milestone.

Six months meant something special.

“Hello?” I called out, feeling brave that I hadn’t even texted to let him know I was on my way.

I’d earned the right to show up unannounced, right?

He stepped out of his bedroom, tugging a t-shirt down at his waist. My eyes lingered on the smooth, stretch of skin across his midsection and I felt a burst of warmth bloom through me. This was going to be a fun night. It had to be.

“Hey,” he grinned at me. “You’re here.”

He was so happy to see me. It was written all over his handsome face. My heart swelled in my chest as I realized this was what a normal, healthy relationship felt like. This was what it felt like to be happy.

“Hey,” I repeated. “I’m here.”

We moved together across the living room, sidestepping furniture and the big, clunky coffee table he’d built himself on his first try at furniture making. Our arms wrapped around each other and he dipped me into a long, satisfying kiss. Butterflies buzzed beneath my skin at the sensation of his tongue tangling with mine. The scruff of his jaw wasn’t typical, and I shivered at the sensation.

Maybe we didn’t have plans tonight. Maybe we were going to hang out here instead and find other ways to celebrate six months.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked when he’d pulled away.

“Depends,” I laughed. “Are you ready to tell me what we’re doing?”

He took a step back, barely able to contain his excitement. No offense to my bedroom skills, but any hopes of staying in tonight were dashed in that one uncharacteristic skip in his step.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out printer paper with barcodes in black ink. “I have tickets to Bright Tragedy! They’re playing at the Uptown Theater tonight.”

His words were a bullet to my good mood, killing whatever happiness and anticipation had been inside me. My heart dropped like a stone to my stomach, calcifying and fossilizing and drying up all at once. “The Uptown Theater is too small for them,” I heard myself say, my brain relying on logistics to make this not true. To change what he’d said into something different, something that didn’t make me want to run away from his house, from this city… from this country.

“It’s a more intimate show,” he explained, his grin ticking wider. “This tour they’re doing is all about small shows and private meet and greets. I missed the tickets for the meet and greet, but I managed to grab the main event tonight.”

His grin stayed in place, waiting for my reaction. I did breathe a small sigh of relief that he’d missed the intimate photo op. God, I couldn’t even imagine the shit show that would have been.

You wouldn’t have gone, my brain whispered honestly. And it was true. If Adam had tried to drag me to a private event where I would have been forced to interact with the members of his and the entire world’s favorite rock band and take pictures with them and shake their hands… I would have run screaming from his house. That was the worst-case scenario for me.

But a concert was a different story. Not because I had any interest in watching Bright Tragedy live or seeing them in person ever again. But because I wanted to preserve what I had with Adam.

I refused to let Bright Tragedy steal any more of my happiness. I refused to let them take anything more from me than they already had.

But this wasn’t a celebration for me. This was one of the hardest things I would ever have to do.

And the worst part… I couldn’t even tell Adam why.

He didn’t need to know that I used to be a member of his favorite band. Or that I had grown up with the guys. Or that the lead singer, Malachi Porter, had been my first boyfriend. My first everything. My only everything until Adam. I had loved him with all that I had in me. I had thought we would get married. That our entire lives would be each other and our band.

And that Malachi, or Kai as his adoring fans knew him, had hurt me in the worst way possible—that he had let our love burn into the brightest tragedy and left me ashes and dust and wisps of nothing.

He’d left me barely breathing.

He’d left me hurting more than I knew was humanly possible.

With no other choice, I’d fled. I’d disappeared. I’d carved out my normal, safe, happy existence without him. And without the world-famous band I’d helped build.

But now, my wonderfully normal boyfriend was asking me to go back to that dark place and I didn’t know how to tell him no without exposing all my shadowy secrets. Secrets he would never forgive me for.

Secrets I could hardly explain fully or reconcile with the girl I was now.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern drawing his eyebrows together. His strong hands landed on my shoulders, rubbing soothingly. “Do you not want to go?”

I tried to smile, but it wobbled. And then it died completely. “I’m sorry, I just don’t love their music like you do.” Panic seized hold of my heart, squeezing it in an iron fist.

His face fell, crumbling with disappointment. The grip on my heart tightened. “Oh, but it could still be fun? We’re in the balcony. We’ll get drinks…”

I couldn’t stomach the way he was looking at me. I couldn’t be responsible for ruining this for him. I knew I had to face this. I knew I had to go. It was the only way to save my past from totally screwing up my future.

If I told Adam the whole truth, he would never look at me the same. He would never treat me the same. He would never…  want me the same.

I would become an idol. And my past would become a badge of honor. And his feelings for me would become plastic.

But the band… if they saw me. If Malachi saw me…

They wouldn’t, I decided. They won’t. They can’t. How many fans did I recognize at any of our concerts? Zero. The stage lights were too bright. The crush of the crowd was too big. The adrenaline of the performance was too intense.

And besides, Malachi wouldn’t be in the right state of mind anyway. He wouldn’t even notice me.

I ignored the despair that colored everything inside me black. Death seeped inside my new life, turning everything cold and corpse-like. My bones grew stiff and my muscles weakened. My heartbeat slowed to a crawl. My lungs shook with the effort to draw breath.

“It’s fine,” I heard myself say, desperation to save this easy new life of mine setting in. I wanted to shake my limbs loose of the rigor mortis. “It will be fun.”

He squinted at me, trying to make sense of the hollow sound of my voice. “I promise, you’re going to love it. Love them,” he said, overly enthusiastic. “You’ll see why I think they’re amazing. You’ll be a super fan by the end of the night.”

I smiled, it was paper thin and fake, but it held. He was wrong. I had already been a super fan. I had been their biggest fan. I had wanted them to have the most success. To be the greatest thing that had ever graced the stage.

Now I knew better. I had loved a broken thing because I wanted to fix it. Instead, it had broken me too.

“Maybe,” I told Adam, knowing the truth would be the opposite.

His answering smile restored some of my faith in life. I wasn’t the same girl I was five years ago. I wasn’t a part of Bright Tragedy. And I wasn’t in love with Malachi Porter.

But I did like Adam. And I could support him this one night. I would slip inside the theater, be a good girlfriend and hang out on the balcony. And then we would leave at the end of the night and life would go on.

Malachi and the guys would move on to the next city.

And I would move on with my new normal.

Easy.

 

About the Author

Rachel Higginson is the best-selling author of The Opposite of You, The Five Stages of Falling in Love, Every Wrong Reason, Bet on Us and The Star-Crossed Series.

She was born and raised in Nebraska, and spent her college years traveling the world. She fell in love with Eastern Europe, Paris, Indian Food and the beautiful beaches of Sri Lanka, but came back home to marry her high school sweetheart. Now she spends her days writing stories and raising five amazing kids.

 

 

 

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Review – Space by Penny Reid – Laws of Physics 2

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Space, the second book in the all-new Laws of Physics Trilogy from Wall Street Journal and New York Times bestselling author Penny Reid, is available now!

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One week.

Private cabin.

Famous physicist.

Still an unrepentant slacker.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Mona’s meticulously planned allotment of relaxation is thrown into chaos by the unscheduled appearance of her older brother’s band of friends, including the one person she’d hoped to never face again. Abram still makes her feel entirely too much, which is one of the reasons she disappeared after their one week together. But now, trapped on a mountain of snow and things unspoken, Mona will have to find a way to coexist with Abram, chaos and all.

Laws of Physics is the second trilogy in the Hypothesis series; Laws of Physics parts 1 (MOTION) & 2 (SPACE) end with a cliffhanger.

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BFF K’s Review of Space – Laws of Physics Part 2

 

One of the things that I miss in romance books is the simple, pre-technology plot lines of misunderstanding and miscommunication. You know, that 80’s-style – missed phone calls, no idea where someone is, can’t get in touch, assume the worst, stuff like that. And this modern age of cell phones, Facebook, Snapchat, etc. it is harder and harder to pull off miscommunication/misunderstanding storylines. The continuation of Laws of Physics feels like a very modern and completely understandable version of those comfortable, enjoyable, and effective plot lines.
Mona thinks she and her sister, Lisa, have gotten away with the identical-twin-life switch-thing. But there is no sense of victory or accomplishment because Mona has lost Abram in the process. The bulk of Space takes place 2-1/2 years after motion.
Mona arrives at her family’s mountain mansion for what she is planning to be a quiet, peaceful weekend with her best friend. But, she is rocked to discover that, unbeknownst to her, her brother Leo and a pack of friends have taken up residence as well… Including Abram!
Abram has a scheme to either completely ignore or find a way to get even with Mona. But, his initial plans are scattered and discarded once he sees her again. What ensues is a modern day cat and mouse game where the main characters are trying to both run from one another and to one another at the same time. It’s entertaining and emotional at the same time.
This book is so beautifully written! I don’t remember making this many highlights in a book in a long time. Abram is absolutely swoony! And I adore Mona and all of her quirks and inner monologue.
I don’t want to give away any more of the plot so I won’t go into the meat of the story or the ending let you know that it is all fantastic despite another cliffhanger ending! I am so excited for the third and final installment of Laws of physics. Penny Reid has outdone herself once again!

 

 

 

An advance copy of this book was received. Receipt of this copy did not impact the content or independence of this review.

 

 

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Excerpt from Space, Laws of Physics Part 2

“Hi—hello,” she said, stepping forward but not out of the way, drawing my attention.

She was still staring at me, her face still pale, but her eyes had turned searching instead of stunned.

“I—” She stopped herself, swallowing, her gaze dropping to the front of my coat, a cute little frown furrowing her eyebrows. In the next moment, she was pulling off the glove of her right hand. Abruptly, she shoved the ungloved fingers toward me, returning her eyes to mine. “I’m Mona.”

I suppressed my disbelief at her small action before it could break my outward mask of calm. I wasn’t calm. Just to be clear, I was the opposite of calm.

The fact that she was introducing herself to me now meant that she thought I was too stupid to figure out her lies over the last two-and-a-half-fucking years. She was arguably one of the smartest people in the world, after all. To her, people like me must seem like housebroken pets. So it shouldn’t have surprised me. But it did. The tension and tightness around my ribs reappeared, squeezing uncomfortably.

Dropping my attention to her bare hand, I pressed my lips into a tighter line, dismissing the way my pulse jumped at the sight of her wrist, the olive tone of her skin under the yellow string lights overhead. Glaring at her outstretched offering, I considered telling her to go to hell.

I considered it, but I wouldn’t.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, that was reason number one.

The other reason was harder to explain, or use as a justification, or admit to myself. Staring at her hand, I braced against a sudden flare of hunger. She might consider me a lower life-form, but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to touch her. I wanted to touch her more than I wanted to tell her to go to hell, and that was fucking pitiful.

But there it was.

Acting on the compulsion, I lifted my right hand and tugged off the ski glove, sliding my warm palm against her much colder one. Her hand felt good in my hand, the right weight, the right size, the right texture, and I inhaled freezing air.

Mona also seemed to suck in a slow but expansive breath as our hands touched, held. This brought my eyes back to hers in time to see her lashes flutter. Pink colored her previously pale cheeks. The sound of the wailing wind, the sting of the air and frost momentarily melted away, leaving just her, her soft skin warming against mine, her beautiful face filling my vision.

So beautiful.

She really was. She was stunning. I hated that she was still so beautiful to me.

Start the series today!

Motion

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Add to GoodReads

Pre-order the highly anticipated conclusion today!

Time

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About the Author

Penny Reid is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Best Selling Author of the Winston Brothers, Knitting in the City, Rugby, and Hypothesis series. She used to spend her days writing federal grant proposals as a biomedical researcher, but now she just writes books. She’s also a full time mom to three diminutive adults, wife, daughter, knitter, crocheter, sewer, general crafter, and thought ninja.

 

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www.pennyreid.ninja

 

New Release – The Something About Her by Rachel Higginson

I quit life. Or at least my new job.

My new, fancy, head chef position at one of the most acclaimed restaurants in the city is not turning out like I’d hoped. I’m a mess. Totally out of my element and underqualified, I’ve been thrown into a fiery kitchen and I’m not sure I can handle the heat.

On top of that, my personal life is falling apart. And to make matters worse, my best friend’s brother keeps popping up at all my worst moments to save the day.

I’ve never claimed to have it together, but I certainly don’t need a man to rescue me every time I get my heel stuck in a sewer grate. Except that’s what keeps happening.

Vann Delane is pushy and stuck up and thinks he knows everything there is to know about everything. And for whatever reason, he keeps saving me.

Not that he’s happy about it. He’s made it clear what he thinks about my money and dream job and the designer shoes he saved last weekend. He’s not impressed with me and my penchant for disaster.

I’ve decided to stay away from him. I’ve got too many other fires to put out to worry about the something between us that doesn’t have a name.

So, he can give his knight in shining armor kindness to someone else. And he can save those intense glances and butterfly-inducing smiles for the nice girl he’s looking for. And he can deny it all he wants, but I know he likes me.

He says I drive him crazy. But I know there’s something about me that he can’t deny.

 

FREE on Kindle Unlimited or purchase exclusively from Amazon

 

Excerpt from The Something About Her

“We need you, Chef,” Blaze said.

It was the first time he had addressed me as Chef and I was immediately floored by the weightiness of hearing that one word. Oh, my god, I was the boss. This was my restaurant. And damn did it feel good to hear someone call me Chef.

“I’ll be right there,” I told Blaze. To Vann, I said, “Duty calls.”

“Let me know if you fire anyone else today,” he teased.

I laughed, unable to help myself. Who was this guy? “You’ll be the first to know.”

“Bye, Dillon,” he murmured.

My stomach flipped at the familiar way he said my name. “Bye, Vann.” I hung up the phone and dropped it inside my desk drawer. I had a kitchen to run. I couldn’t be thinking about Vann Delane and his surprisingly good advice. Or his shockingly cute butt. Slapping a hand over my mouth to hide my smile, I walked back to the kitchen, pushed up my sleeves and got to work.

Read the rest of the Opposites Attract Series

The Opposite of You

The Difference Between Us

The Problem with Him

About the Author

Rachel Higginson is the best-selling author of The Opposite of You, The Five Stages of Falling in Love, Every Wrong Reason, Bet on Us and The Star-Crossed Series.

She was born and raised in Nebraska, and spent her college years traveling the world. She fell in love with Eastern Europe, Paris, Indian Food and the beautiful beaches of Sri Lanka, but came back home to marry her high school sweetheart. Now she spends her days writing stories and raising five amazing kids.

 

 

You can visit Rachel:
Instagram @mywritesdntbite
rachelhigginson.com
facebook.com/rachelhigginsonauthor
Twitter @mywritesdntbite

New Release – Ear Candy by M.E. Carter and Andrea Johnston


M.E. Carter and Andrea Johnston are romance writers who share a love of the written word. Combining their sense of humor, beliefs in love, and sarcasm, this writing duo has joined forces to create the Charitable Endeavors series. With the sole purpose of bringing laughter and love to their readers while tapping into their charitable hearts, a portion of the release proceeds will be donated to charity.

 

 

Ear Candy is the second book in the Charitable Endeavors Series by M.E. Carter and Andrea Johnston. Each story is somehow related to the indie book community and is guaranteed to be a contemporary romantic comedy and fade to gray (no gratuitous sexy times when we’re donating to charity) PLUS a portion of each book’s release will be DONATED to charity!

 

Title: Ear Candy

Genre: Contemporary Romantic Comedy

Charity: The Guardians Foundation, Inc.

 

He’s the plot twist she didn’t hear coming.

 

Becoming a book narrator was never my goal. But if your deep voice tempts romance listeners

to swoon and throw their proverbial panties at you, plans change.

 

When an unexpected chain of events rockets my easy-going and chill life in a completely

different direction, I tackle it like I do everything—with humor, wit, and a little bit of my “Hawk

Weaver” charm.

 

That’s not a hardship, though, because it means establishing a friendship with erotic romance

author, Donna Moreno. She’s a game changer. In all the best ways.

 

A Note From the Authors

As you all know, with the Charitable Endeavors series, we have committed to releasing each book with a significant portion of the release month proceeds being donated to charity. With the release of Ear Candy, we have chosen THE GUARDIANS FOUNDATION. TGF is a non-profit located in north Idaho and was founded by Michael Shaw, a SSG in the Idaho National Guard. The mission of TGF is to utilize resources within the community to support veterans and their families to bring comfort, offer hope, and provide immediate assistance. TGF assists veterans in the state of Idaho and parts of Washington with shelter, emergency and unexpected expenses, transportation, education and job opportunities, and an outdoor sportsmanship program. We are honored to support such an amazing organization that supports veterans.

Add it to Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US     Amazon AU     Amazon CA     Amazon UK

 

Excerpt from Ear Candy

 

As an over-thirty single woman who writes erotica for a living, you would think I spend my days

fighting off every handsome, dirty-mouthed billionaire in a twenty-mile radius. I don’t. Sure, I

have a checklist for my ideal man who I write in my books. I just haven’t found “the one” in the

real world.

Todd Chimolski may not check all the boxes on my current list, but there’s something to be said

for a friend who makes you laugh and puts on a suit to make all your fantasies come true.

Hearing him bring the words I’ve written to life is nothing short of an eargasm, and that’s a box

I didn’t know I needed checked.

What happens when the woman who writes sexy romance and the man who narrates it build a friendship that quickly turns to more?

 

 

New Release – Enchanted by You by Hilaria Alexander

 

 

Title: Enchanted by You
Author: Hilaria Alexander
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 Release Date: December 6, 2018

I had no idea that my seven-year marriage would implode
during our long awaited and needed vacation to Albuquerque—the city that will
change your perspective. Unfortunately, our attempt at fixing everything wrong
in our relationship backfired, big time.

My husband left me alone in Albuquerque, with no friends, no family . . . and
no idea what my future holds or if I’ll ever find happiness again.

As I begin to move on, I can’t help but notice the man who was there for me
during my darkest hour.
Esteban Garcia is the dashing hero you want on your side, even though I’m no
damsel in distress.
With his dazzling smile, bright green eyes and golden skin, he’s a brand of
gorgeous I’m not used to, and mysterious enough to drive me crazy with thoughts
of him.

I wouldn’t be surprised to find out I’ve somehow been enchanted by him . . . or
maybe he was my fate all along.

 

Purchase Links
99c for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Playlist

Excerpt

“By the way, how are you settling in? Still in love with the apartment?” he teases, arching one eyebrow, his voice loaded with humor.

I make a face. “What exactly are you hinting at?” I ask, and he lets out a laugh, his eyes bright with amusement. He puts his hands in his pockets, and relaxes, slouching his shoulders a little. “Is this your way of asking me if I’ve experienced any paranormal activity?” The sound of his laughter stirs something in my chest, a happy feeling I haven’t felt in so long. I don’t miss the looks I’m getting from the women he was talking to. Also, I just can’t miss the opportunity to tease him in return.

“Oh, yeah. I haven’t had a chance to tell you. There’s a ghost who visits me every night. I haven’t been getting much sleep but all in all…I can’t really complain,” I tell him with a knowing look, and his face falls immediately.

He looks pale, and I almost feel sorry I lied.

Almost.

“You’re joking,” he tells me, jaw taut, a panicked look in his eyes.

“Not so funny now, is it?” I quip and see him slowly regain the color that had gone amiss from his cheeks. His eyes sparkle like emeralds as he recovers, and the corner of his lips tilts into a grin that tells me he’ll make me pay for it.

I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, if it entails certain things.

He points a finger at me and shakes his head in disbelief.

“That wasn’t funny, Ines.”

“That was very funny and you know it.”

“Alright. You got me. I’m going to stop teasing you now, okay?”

Oh, please don’t.

I shrug. “A little teasing never hurt anybody, am I right?”

He nods slowly, a small smile stretching across his face. His eyes linger on me, as if trying to read me. I felt bold a moment ago, but now that he’s staring at me with such intensity, I feel my cheeks redden and look down.

 

 

About the Author

Hilaria Alexander never thought she’d be a writer one day.
Reader? Yes. Book hoarder? You betcha. Then, she started reading romance – that’s
when she felt the need to write a story. Unfortunately, she didn’t listen to
her gut, and talked herself out of it A MILLION TIMES. She finally gave up a
few years ago, when the urge to write was stronger than self-doubt. She loves
funny, sexy romances wrapped with a huge happily-ever-after bow at the end. Her
inbox is always open if you want to chat about one of her books.
 
For upcoming teasers, samples, and all things new-release-related, join her
Facebook reading group:

 

 

New Release – Next in Line by Amy Daws

release blitz banner

What happens when the cute mountain man you made out with in an ice fishing shack turns out to be your brother’s best friend?

A whole lot of awkward, that’s what.

Now Live-couple

NOW LIVE!

What happens when the cute mountain man you made out with in an ice fishing shack turns out to be your brother’s best friend?

A whole lot of awkward, that’s what.

Maggie’s mind is reeling when she discovers the guy she became tangled up with at Marv’s Bait & Tackle isn’t a stranger like she thought.

The big snag: Sam and Maggie’s chemistry is hot enough to melt ice, which makes keeping their secret far more difficult than either expected.

Especially when one of them decides they want this arrangement to be more than just a catch and release.

⬇︎⬇︎⬇︎
Amazon Universal Link

 

BFF K’s Review Coming SOON!

 

Bearded Lumberjack in Hat holding a big Axe on Shoulder

 

Excerpt from Next in Line

“Maggie,” I state, my voice deep in warning. “Stop worrying about Sterling and live in this moment. We are in the middle of a hot spring, surrounded by rocks and mountains and snow and nature and…life. Your ex should be the last thing on your mind. You should be taking this all in.”

“I am taking it all in,” she snaps back defensively.

“But are you? Are you really?” I stare deep into her eyes, not in judgment but in understanding. “I know you have a plan, but sometimes plans need to be forgotten so you don’t miss out on life.”

“Life? Like right now? With you?” she says the words slowly like each one is a sweet she’s tasting for the first time.

“Hell, maybe,” I reply, my voice growing deeper from the darkened look in her eye. “You seem busy living for a fictional future. Maybe it’s time to stop turning the pages for a bit.”

The corners of her lips twitch as she watches me for a breath. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as she pulls her bottom one in with her teeth. She turns around to prop her arms on the rocks, her eyes taking in the scenery all around us. She exhales heavily and then turns to sit on her knees in front of me.

My eyes take in that luscious body of hers, curvy in all the right places and smooth like velvet. Leaning in until her face is only inches from mine, she says, “Kiss me, Sam.”

“What?” I ask with a laugh and pull away from her, assuming this must be her idea of a joke.

She bites her lip and narrows her eyes with determination. “Kiss me.”

“What are you doing?” I shift nervously in the water to put more space between us. I swear to God, the temperature of the water has just risen ten degrees.

Lifting her shoulders, she replies, “I’m living life in the moment.”

“But you want your ex back.” A fact she shouldn’t need to be reminded of.

“I do…someday.” Her eyes wander down to my chest. “But he’s not here tonight. And you’re a short-term kind of guy, and I’m a temporarily single girl. So why don’t we live in the moment right now…together?”

“You don’t want this,” I reply with a shake of the head, gulping down the contents of my glass in one swig. I set it down and hoist myself up on the edge of the rocks, needing some cool air to clear my head.

“I think I do,” she replies, lifting her brows at me. “I know I do. I’ve wanted it since the day we met.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true. Why do you think I threw myself at you in your fishing hut, Sam?”

My body roars to life at that memory, of her body close to mine, of feeling her in my arms and tasting her perfect lips. Maggie could kiss. Even in her haste, she knew how to kiss.

Maggie moves closer to me like a tentative cub tracking its first prey. She kneels between my legs, and I tense when she runs her hands up the outside of my calves. “You’re a good guy, Sam. You may not be a long-term kind of guy, but that’s not what I’m looking for from you anyway.”

Her hands roll over my quads, shooting a zinger right up my groin to my cock. I reach down and grip her hands harshly to stop their movement. “What are you looking for exactly, Maggie? Be very fucking specific.”

Her long black lashes are wet from the steam as she looks up at me and quirks her brow as she replies. “I’m asking for no-strings fucking.”

“Jesus Christ,” I growl and have to force myself to look away from her. She looks way too fucking hot right now in that little black bikini, her breasts pressing together from the position of her hands on my thighs, and her blue eyes wide and innocent. My dick develops its own heartbeat as it presses into my board shorts.

How did this evening turn into Maggie seducing me? I’m fucking nine years older than her, for God’s sake. I should be the one seducing her. But all of a sudden, she’s the alluring bait dangling right in front of me, and I’m a fish who hasn’t eaten in weeks.

I look at her with pleading eyes. “Your brother will kill me.”

She smiles a sexy smile, that dimple in her cheek ever present. “Miles doesn’t need to know about my sex life.”

Giveaway

 

Its Live Giveaway

⬇︎⬇︎⬇︎
Enter Here!

 

 

About the Author

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Amy Daws is an Amazon Top 25 bestselling author of sexy, contemporary romance novels. She enjoys writing love stories that take place in America, as well as across the pond in England; especially about those footy-playing Harris Brothers of hers. When Amy is not writing in a tire shop waiting room, she’s watching Gilmore Girls, or singing karaoke in the living room with her daughter while Daddy smiles awkwardly from a distance.
For more of Amy’s work, visit: http://www.amydawsauthor.com

 

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Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/amydawsauthor/
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/amydaws
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/amydawsauthor

 

 

Review – Trailer Park Heart by Rachel Higginson

Trailer park born and raised. It’s my legacy. That’s how my mama lived. And that’s how her mama lived. It’s the life I was born into and it’s the life I swore I would leave the second I was old enough to make it out.

Only legacies have a funny way of sneaking up on you. An innocent decision the night of high school graduation led to a series of complications in my plans to escape.

Seven years later, I’ve resigned myself to this small town and the roots I’m tied to. Nothing could make me leave. And nothing could make me spill the secrets that keep me here.

Until he walks back into town with a chip on his shoulder and a stupid hunch nobody else in town has been smart enough to follow.

Levi Cole is my opposite. Born on the right side of the tracks with family money to spare, he’s the kind of black sheep that can afford to be rebellious—because his family will always pay for his mistakes. He’s also the only living heir to Cole Family Farms, after his brother Logan was killed in duty seven years ago.

He sees something in my life that he thinks he has a right to. But he’s wrong. And obnoxious. And he needs to take his stubborn good looks and that intense way he looks at me and go back to wherever it was he came from.

I know better than to trust men like him. I was born and raised in a trailer park, I know nothing good happens to girls like me—girls with trailer park lives and trailer park hearts. Especially from gorgeous, kind, pigheaded men like him.

 

Buy Trailer Park Heart today!

Amazon      Barnes & Noble      iBooks

BFF K’s Review of Trailer Park Heart

Last night I finished a book that won’t stop bouncing around in my brain. It is the best book I’ve read in 2018 and that’s saying something….I’ve read 90+ books this year. This book is sweet and tender, full of angst and emotion, heartbreaking and soul affirming, complex and beautifully written. I want everyone to read this book.

Part of the reason that I’m so in love with this story is that it is set in Nebraska. I understand the critical role that small-town-Nebraska plays in this story. There is a level of poverty that exists alongside material wealth that is staggering. There can be a tremendous sense of hometown pride mixed with a clear desire to move beyond what you’ve always known. Nebraska is its own character in this book and I love it!

Ruby is a perplexing character. She is strong and fierce at the same time that she is insecure and withdrawn. She can’t shake the aura of trailer park that follows her everywhere. Ruby knows that no one looks past her former-stripper-mother and the poverty in which she was raised. She believes that her upbringing defines her in the eyes of the small town residents and busy bodies. Her only goal is to get out, go to college, move on. But her plans are derailed on graduation night. The emotional barriers she has built continue to rise.

Levi was Ruby’s nemesis in high school. Constantly in her orbit. Prodding and poking and urging her on. He was both friend and foe. And now he’s back. And he’s even more than he was before. He’s smarter and more persistent, more handsome, more clever and more irresistible. Levi has his sights set on Ruby and showing her that there is more to life and Clark City than she believes. Until he learns her most closely guarded secret. Will it destroy the way that he looks at her?

Perhaps Ruby didn’t understand Levi and his motivations as much as she thought. Or, perhaps she was attempting to protect herself. Maybe, just maybe, Ruby’s walls and defenses extend beyond just Levi. His return makes her question everything she’s believed about her life. Maybe someone can love her because of her trailer park heart and not in spite of it?

This book is just everything. Like Levi, it is just MORE. It is a stunning, emotional, fulfilling story that you need to read. It will make you think and force you to feel and in the end it will just live in a corner of your brain with a piece of your heart, trailer park included.

An advance copy of this book was received. Receipt of this copy did not impact the content or independence of this review.

 

Excerpt from Trailer Park Heart

He stared at me, unspeaking, unmoving. The hurt in his eyes and the frown on his face devastated my already broken spirit.

“And I don’t even know what to tell you,” I cried some more. “Because my mistake led me to Max and for that reason I can never really regret it. But I hate how I hurt you. I hate that my mistakes meant pushing you away. I hate that I finally know how I feel about you and it’s too late.”

His eyes flashed with something so intense I gasped for breath. “How do you feel about me?” How could he ask me that now? How did he not know? How had he not always known? “Don’t make me say it,” I whispered, my voice dragged over gravel. “It hurts too much.” “Ruby,” he pleaded, his voice just as fragmented. “Say it. Please.”

I didn’t bother brushing away the tears, there were too many of them, my grief was too heavy. “I love you,” I whispered. “I’ve always loved you. I’ve just been too afraid to say it.”

To admit it.

 

About the Author

Rachel Higginson is the best-selling author of The Opposite of You, The Five Stages of Falling in Love, Every Wrong Reason, Bet on Us and The Star-Crossed Series.

She was born and raised in Nebraska, and spent her college years traveling the world. She fell in love with Eastern Europe, Paris, Indian Food and the beautiful beaches of Sri Lanka, but came back home to marry her high school sweetheart. Now she spends her days writing stories and raising five amazing kids.

 

 

You can visit Rachel:
Instagram @mywritesdntbite
rachelhigginson.com
facebook.com/rachelhigginsonauthor
Twitter @mywritesdntbite

 

New Release – Small Town Heart by Andrea Johnston

Small Town Heart by Andrea Johnston

Without a plan in place and only a hundred dollars to my name, this big city girl born in a small town world headed for the bright lights of city life.

Four years later, I may have more money in my bank account, but somehow I’ve found myself back in another small town trying to build a life. Even though the residents of Fayhill have welcomed me like one of their own, this is only a detour, not a final destination.

Then I met Shane Abbott.

What’s a girl to do when a certain dark-haired dimpled cowboy, who fills out a pair of jeans like it’s his job with a smile that sets my soul on fire, has me considering burning my map?

*

The bright lights of city life never appealed to me. I like the quiet of small town life, and my hometown of Fayhill fits me to a T.

I never expected to meet Mercy Warner.

Love is the last thing on my mind. These days I work hard and mind my own business. So when a certain honey-haired spitfire blows into town, I take another look.

She may claim small town life isn’t for her, but the way she’s settling in tells me she might be open to the option. Refusing to let this opportunity to pass me by, I take another chance and put my small town heart on the line.

Surely the draw of the big city won’t burn me twice . . .

 

Add Small Town Heart to your TBR on Goodreads

 

Buy Small Town Heart today!

 

 

Excerpt from Small Town Heart

“Please don’t do this. Please, Gerty.” I sound pathetic—begging my twenty-something-year-old teal hatchback to live. Yes, live. I need my car to get her shit together and get me to Austin. Looking at the gauges, I plead with them to tell me what’s wrong. That’s wishful thinking since they stopped working a year ago and the little arrow things bounce without telling me anything.

“Come on, girl. Look, six miles. You can do it.” My words are encouraging. Okay, they aren’t really encouraging. They’re more like begging with a sprinkling of frustration and the lingering sounds of tears lacing each word.

Six miles and we’ll be in the town of Fayhill. If I’m lucky, Gerty will hold on for at least eight and allow me to get closer to the center of town. I’ve been to this town once before and, while it’s been at least ten years, I’m sure it hasn’t changed much. That’s the brilliance of small Texas towns: they don’t change much. It’s also why I left small-town Texas: they don’t change much.

I won’t cry. This isn’t a big deal. We’ve broken down before. Sure, it was in a town where I knew a lot of people. A town with taxis that could get me home if necessary. Home. I refuse to admit defeat. That “d” word is not in my vocabulary. I glance up in my rearview mirror and don’t see smoke billowing behind me; that’s good. And, because I was obviously a sinner in my past life and am being punished for said unknown sins, a puff of smoke appears in front of me.

Dammit to hell. I’m going to be stranded in Fayhill, Texas. Fayhill, population . . . well, I don’t know what the population is, but I’m sure it’s less than what I’m looking for as I start my new life.

Again.

About the Author

Andrea Johnston spent her childhood with her nose in a book and a pen to paper.

An avid people watcher, her mind is full of stories that yearn to be told.

A fan of angsty romance with a happy ending, super sexy erotica and a good mystery, Andrea can always be found with her Kindle nearby fully charged.

Andrea lives in Idaho with her family and two dogs. When she isn’t spending time with her partner in crime aka her husband, she can be found binge watching all things Bravo and enjoying a cocktail. Nothing makes her happier than the laughter of her children, a good book, her feet in the water, and cocktail in hand all at the same time.

Follow Andrea:

Facebook | Website | Sassy Romantics | Nerd Herd | Instagram | Twitter | Amazon

 

Review – Pucked Love by Helena Hunting

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Pucked Love, the final sexy and emotional standalone in the NYT bestselling Pucked Series from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting, is available NOW!

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As an NHL player, relationships haven’t been my thing. Shrouded in secrecy and speculation, they never last very long. But then that’s what happens when you require an NDA before the first date.

Until Charlene. She’s like a firefly. She’s elusive, and if you catch her she’ll burn bright, but keeping her trapped dulls her fire and dims her beauty.

I caught her. And as much as I might want to keep her, I’ll never put the lid on her jar. Not at the risk of losing her. So I’ve let her set the rules in our relationship.

But as long hidden secrets expose us both, I discover exactly how fragile Charlene is, and how much I need her.

We’re all broken. We’re all messed up. Some more than others. Me more than most.

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Download your copy today!

Amazon     AppleBooks     Amazon Worldwide     Kobo

Nook     Audible     Amazon Print

Add to GoodReads

Pucked Love Teaser 3 AN.jpg

 

BFF K’s Review of Pucked Love

There are few things I love more than seeing a clueless hero get knocked on his butt when he realizes he’s in love with the heroine. And does Darren take a tumble! I’ve read/listened to every book and novella in this series and I’m thrilled with this ending!

I’ll admit, I’ve been perplexed by Darren and Charlene the whole time. To be honest, their relationship just seemed weird. Were they a couple or weren’t they? It seemed like there were, but time and again they behaved in ways that made you question that. They seemed to like one another but were so secretive and closed off. His secrecy and her gosh darn pearls…what was the deal?

Darren and Charlene both had some significant baggage. And, they were really just hauling it around with them for years. It wasn’t until they were forced by both friends and enemies to confront their issues that they were able to come together and figure their s&%# out! It was so fun to take that journey with them. I think Darren and Charlene are one of my favorite couple’s in the series. I’m just so happy with the conclusion of their love story.

If you haven’t read any of the books in the Pucked series, you need to fix that immediately! They’re terrific books and fantastic audiobooks. I can’t recommend them highly enough! This series is fun, sweet, sexy – everything you want in a rom-com series and Pucked Love is the perfect conclusion!

 

 

An advance copy of this book was received. The reviewer listened to the the audiobook with the Audible Romance Package. Receipt of the advance copy did not impact the content or independence of this review.

 

 

Excerpt

You’re turning twenty-six. It’s your champagne birthday, so we need to do something fun.” Violet bounces, making her boobs shake and my mimosa slosh perilously. “It should be themed! We can all wear leather chaps!”

“Could you be any more cliché?” I roll my eyes. “Just to be clear, Darren doesn’t own chaps.”

“Just a ball gag and a mask with no eye holes, according to Alex.”

And we’re back to my sex life. I knew I was getting off so easy.

I wonder if Darren is catching this kind of heat today. I seriously doubt it’s worse than what I’m getting since I don’t think his friends are likely to push his buttons, but I’ll have to ask when I speak to him next. I’m not sure when that will be, either. The message I sent about Gertrude was pretty straightforward and doesn’t necessarily require a response. Maybe I should’ve worded it differently.

Sunny raises her hand, like we’re all still in middle school and she’s waiting her turn to speak. “Wouldn’t a mask with no eyeholes be dangerous? You wouldn’t be able to see where you’re going.” Her eyes widen, and she looks around the room. “And what’s a ball gag?”

I honestly love that Sunny has grown up in this highly overinformed society and still manages to be innocent.

“Yeah, Char, wouldn’t a mask with no eyeholes be dangerous?” Violet props her fist on her chin and smiles. “And please, do explain what a ball gag is.”

“I’m not sure you really want the answer to that, Sunny.” Poppy gives me a look I can’t quite decipher.

Sunny twirls her hair around her finger. “Why not?”

“Where’s the harm in a little bondage-sex education? It’s not like Miller’s ever going to go out and buy either item for her. First of all, Alex would murder him, and secondly, I don’t think that’s Miller’s thing.”

Sunny’s face lights up, and she does jazz hands. “Oh! I think I know what Miller’s thing is!”

Lily grins. “Eating your cookie?”

“He really likes to do that, a lot. When my belly gets too big I’ll have to watch from the mirror.” She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “But he has another thing! Kind of like how you and Randy are always getting it on in bathrooms, except I think it’s a bit more sanitary.”

“And it doesn’t cause thousands of dollars of damage,” Violet adds.

Lily throws her hands up in the air. “That sink was already falling off the wall. It’s not my fault it broke!”

“That was one expensive orgasm,” I say.

“And Randy says it was worth every penny.” Lily’s smile is devious as she bites her knuckle, then turns to Sunny. “Anyway, back to Miller’s thing.”

Sunny wiggles around excitedly in her chair. “So Miller paints my toenails for me.”

“Miller’s thing is painting your toenails?”

“Yes. Well, no. I think he likes my toes.” Her fingers go to her lips, and she looks around the room, her cheeks flushing.

“Say what now?” Violet asks.

”Sometimes he kisses them.” She covers her mouth with her palm and says something unintelligible.

Violet sits forward in her chair. “Hold on a second, does Buck have a foot fetish?”

“Um, I don’t know.” Sunny looks worried now. “Is that weird? Is it, like, mask with no eyeholes kind of weird?”

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Helena Hunting lives outside of Toronto with her amazing family and her two awesome cats, who think the best place to sleep is her keyboard. Helena writes everything from contemporary romance with all the feels to romantic comedies that will have you laughing until you cry.

 

Connect with Helena
Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenaHunting
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/Zt1xm5
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Review – I Bet You by Ilsa Madden-Mills

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She’s the one bet I can’t resist…

Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills returns with an all-new swoon-fest of a novel about what happens when you look beyond labels and take a chance on love.

I Bet You, an all-new sexy college romance standalone is available NOW!

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Sexy Athlete: I bet you…

Penelope Graham: Burn in hell, quarterback.

The late night text is random but Penelope knows exactly who “Sexy Athlete” is. And why she shouldn’t take his wager.

Ryker Voss.

Football star.

Walks on water and God’s gift to women.

Just ask him.

His bet? He promises Penelope he’ll win her the heart of the nerdy guy she’s been crushing on. His plan—good old-fashioned jealousy. Once her crush sees her kissing Ryker, he’ll realize what he’s missing. Sounds legit, right? The only question is…why is Ryker being so nice to her?

Penelope Graham.

Virgin.

Lover of sparkly vampires and calculus.

His mortal enemy.

Penelope knows she shouldn’t trust a jock, but what’s a girl to do when she needs a date to Homecoming? And Ryker’s keeping a secret, another bet, one that could destroy Penelope’s heart forever.

Will the quarterback score the good girl or will his secret mean everyone loses at this game of love?

IBY-AN

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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BFF K’s Review of I Bet You

I Bet You is a perfect New Adult, college romance! This story gave me similar feels to Madden-Mills previous work, Dirty English, which I LOVED!

Penelope is hard-working, sweet and kind. She has a troubled relationship with her father and she’s mourning the relatively recent loss of her mother. Those experiences have shaped her and given her a skeptical outlook on life and love. And, she’s a bit of a lovable nerd!

Ryker is a football star. His role as the Quarterback and leader of a championship caliber team gets him whatever and whoever he wants. Except Penelope. He’s drawn to her in spite of or because of that fact! He’s a more complicated person than Penelope originally believed and she struggles to match her assumptions of him to the reality. But, of course, their chemistry and attraction to one another is undeniable.

There aren’t a lot of twists and turns or surprises in this book. But, it delivers exactly what you hope for when you pick up a NA, college, football, romance! From start to finish, I Bet You is a sweet and charming coming of age tale. It is a definite one-click for Kindle Unlimited subscribers and all romance lovers!

 

An advance copy of this book was received. Receipt of this copy did not impact the content or independence of this review.

 

 

Excerpt from I Bet You

Penelope

I stand in front of the mirror in the restroom and gasp. Holy moly, I’m a total disaster. Red is on my shirt, my neck, my cheek, and there’s even a dab in my hair. I let out a heavy sigh as I wipe at it with a wet paper towel. At least my hair is auburn and the red will just blend right in. I scrub at the stain on my shirt, but all I end up doing is making a giant wet spot.

“Forget it,” I mutter to myself a few minutes later as I straighten my lopsided messy bun and adjust my glasses. My makeup is faded, and I reach into my apron for a tube of cherry red lipstick then quickly swipe it over my mouth. Like that’s going to improve the situation. I need a makeover and new clothes stat.

I walk out of the restroom and take in Sugar’s Bar and Grill, a restaurant in Magnolia, Mississippi. The dinner rush is over, but a few stragglers will come in, mostly college students. Only a block from campus, Sugar’s has a modern farmhouse feel with galvanized steel light fixtures, pale pine floors, and straight-back metal chairs, but the food…well, that’s what keeps the place hopping. It’s the only restaurant near campus to get anything you want served up with a side of fresh fried green tomatoes. Their menu also features Southern classics, such as chicken and dumplings or macaroni and cheese with bacon sprinkled on top. Just thinking about it makes my stomach rumble. I was so wrapped up in writing during my break that I forgot to eat.

I sigh and head to the football table, where they promptly hand over the money. “Nice doing business with you, boys,” I say before flouncing off, feeling Ryker’s eyes on me the entire time.

What’s his deal with me?

I mean, you’d think he’d want to avoid me because of the article, but it’s as if his mission is to be around me as much as he can. In fact, I’m not even sure he knew who I was before I wrote it since we don’t run in the same circles. I suspect he’s torturing me.

I push him out of my head and walk over to a table that needs bussing, picking up half-empty soda glasses and putting them on my tray. The door chimes, signaling that someone has come in, and I raise my head to see—

Whoa.

I freeze.

Bring out the angels and cue the hallelujah chorus.

Now that’s the kind of man I should be writing sexy scenes about.

Standing at the door is Connor Dimpleshitz—yes, his surname is unfortunate, but his IQ makes up for it. I’ve been crushing on him since our sociology class last semester.

Framed by a golden halo of sunlight as it glints through the windows, I decide he’s what would happen if Albert Einstein and Henry Cavill had a baby. “A hot genius. The perfect unicorn,” I murmur to myself.

I chew on my lip, debating on whether to mosey up to him and say hi or hide.

Hide wins. I know, I’m a little ridiculous, especially since we have calculus together this semester and he’ll obviously see me at some point in class.

But then I’ll have good hair and ketchup-free clothes.

I quickly survey the possibilities for my escape as the hostess seats him in another server’s section. My eyes land on the right side of the restaurant, where I could make a mad dash for the kitchen, but he’s bound to see me darting since I’d have to walk past him. Plus, I want to hang around and watch him without him knowing.

I come to a decision. Wrangling the tray of half-empty sodas I cleared, I quickstep it over to the back left corner, the farthest away from the double doors of the entrance. I maneuver my body into an awkward hunkering position behind a huge potted plant with wide fan-shaped leaves. At least five feet tall with a gnarly brown trunk, the green monster is perfect camouflage.

I peek around a big leaf that’s in dire need of a good dusting,judging by the motes floating around. Feeling paranoid that someone is a witness to my absurdity, I throw a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure no one’s around.

Ryker. Shit.

He’s staring at me from the football table, and there’s a glint in his gaze, as if he’s wondering what I’m doing.

I scowl and stick my tongue out at him. He makes me feel so rebellious and flustered and…excited.

I can’t even stop myself. Ugh.

His expression deepens in amusement, and I grimace, realizing my butt is sticking out. His annoying eyebrow jacks up and says, What the hell are you doing?

With eye telepathy I tell him to mind his own freaking business.

I pointedly turn my back on him and focus on The Unicorn.

A few seconds later, a familiar deep voice resonates from behind me, making me start. “You look a little flustered, Penelope. Spying on someone for your next story, perhaps?”

I freeze. Blink. His voice is husky and lower than before when he was calling me garçon, the tone reminding me of languid summer nights under a starry Southern sky while he gives me deep, passionate kisses—

Good Lord.Stop your daydreaming.Must. Stop. Reading. Romances.

I heave out a sigh and turn around to face Ryker.

What the hell does he want now?

***

“I don’t submit to the Wildcat Weekly anymore,” I say.

I worked for them most of last year, covering the home games and a few random articles. With a dad who was in the NFL, I know a lot about football, but when Sugar’s offered me more hours, I took it.

“No more football stories, huh?”

I shrug, my gaze taking in his chiseled cheekbones, the curve of his full lips, the hint of scruff on his jaw. Dammit, why is he so gorgeous? “What can I say? I covered the most fascinating story last semester—you. Guess I went out on a high note.”

He nods, taking that dig. “I always noticed you at the games.”

I scoff. “I didn’t think girls like me were on your radar.”

“You sat near the third row at the fifty-yard line taking notes at every home game.” His eyes drift over me. “And I didn’t say you were on my radar.”

“Really? Sounds like you did.”

“Trust me, I have more discriminating tastes.” He shrugs.

“Why, how sweet of you.” My Southern accent has thickened, the way it does when I’m sassy. It’s one thing to know he doesn’t like me, but for him to say I’m not up to his standards…well. “Did you pop over here just to be nice?”

He exhales and rakes a hand through his hair, calling attention to the lighter strands that have been bleached by the sun. “Honestly, I’m not sure why I came over here.” A conflicted expression crosses his face as he tugs at his collar. My eyes stare at the myriad of curly blond chest hairs that are poking out from the V-neck of the light blue Oxford he’s wearing with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay from the ketchup getting all over you, but everything I’m saying is coming out wrong.”

Oh. This is different. And not what I expected.

“I’m fine, Baby Llama. No need to worry. You can go. Your girlfriends are waiting for you.” I tilt my head back toward the football table.

He doesn’t budge. “Baby Llama?” An amused grin flashes over his face.

I shrug. It’s been my private nickname for him since sophomore year when I stumbled upon him coming out of an upstairs bathroom at the Tau house after a shower with only a white towel wrapped around his trim waist. Some jersey chaser was with him. His hairy chest had both shocked my virgin sensibilities and excited me at the same time. The unruly curls just made him seem more naked, as if I’d seen his cock. Much to my dismay, I’d later dream about rolling around on that bed of golden curls. Seriously, who takes a shower with a chick in the middle of a kegger? Ryker Voss, that’s who. Because he can. And girls do whatever he wants.

But not this one.

I respect the game—even love it—but I don’t fall for football players, especially high and mighty quarterbacks who think they walk on water. My dad was the star player at Waylon twenty years ago, and trust me, I know how they operate. They get what they want and then they walk out, leaving broken hearts everywhere.

“Have you ever seen a real llama?” he asks, continuing our conversation. It’s as if he’s actually trying to be nice. “I saw one at a safari park once. Little bugger tried to eat my hand off when I fed him, but he was cute. Maybe you need a poster of one in your room so when you see it, you’ll think about me. I’ll even sign it for you.”

And there’s the cocky again.

“Buy me one. I’ll throw darts at it.”

“Damn, you never stop.” He huffs out a laugh, his eyes lingering on my neck. “Oh, there’s a bit of ketchup here too,” he says, reaching out to glide his finger across the top of my collar, his knuckles barely brushing against my neck.

The feather-light touch is brief and not sexual, yet my body hums, tendrils of sparks racing over my skin. I suck in a breath and catch his scent, warm and spicy with hints of leather and sandalwood.

He blinks and clears his throat. “Um, I actually have this cleaner stuff that I spray on my practice clothes. It’s a miracle worker. You’re welcome to borrow it. Of course, you’d have to come by the football dorm to pick it up. We could even do laundry together if you wanted?”

He says the words softly, as if they’re nothing,and I’m staring at him full on.

Do our laundry together?

I suspect Ryker Voss is flirting with me, though not well. The pimply-faced checkout boy at Big Star has better lines than this.

Yet…

Something warm grows inside my stomach and then flutters around, the sputtering of newborn butterflies. He is the hottest guy on campus. Still, I remind myself he’s a player, gather my resolve, and shoot those butterflies down.

“You’re being weird, Ryker.”

“Because I’m being nice? Yeah. New year, new start. I want to forget all the bad stuff from last semester.” He pauses. “And the article you wrote.”

“Is that right? Even the part where I said you dishonored the sport and were a disgrace to college players everywhere?”

He stares down at his hands. “I had my reasons for what happened.”

So I heard. He got involved in the fighting to help his friend and fellow teammate Maverick save his disabled sister.

“Ah, well, I did write a follow-up article, but it wasn’t nearly as popular as the first one.”

He shrugs, and somehow, he’s closer now. I stare into his thickly lashed cerulean eyes and blink at the force of them. His irises…God, someone should name a crayon after them.

“So…do you want to do laundry together sometime?”

This again? My mouth parts. “What? Like a date?”

“Yeah.”

I blink rapidly, my brain trying to wrap about this new Ryker. “No. I’m sure you already have jersey chasers lined up outside your dorm vying to do your laundry. I’ve heard they actually beg to rub your shoulders and do your homework. I imagine they even fight to be the one to suck your sweet little toes.” I come to an abrupt halt. Suck his toes? SUCK HIS TOES? OMG. Where did that random comment come from? I don’t have a foot fetish. I blame it on his presence and carry on. “And don’t worry about me—I don’t need your laundry advice. A little ketchup never hurt anyone.”

Determination crosses his face and with a flurry of movement, he drops a small piece of paper onto the tray I’m holding.

I stare down at it. Sexy as Hell Athlete is written in masculine handwriting with a phone number after it. I look back up at him, my eyes tracing the enigmatic half-smile on his face.

“I wrote it down for you earlier and wanted to give it to you after the ketchup thing, but I chickened out.”

Several seconds go by.

“Will you give me yours?” he asks after a few moments of us just standing here.

“My what?”

“Number.” He grins.

I indicate the tray and my obvious impediment. “I don’t have any paper on me.”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

I’m flustered, and that’s the only reason I rattle off my phone number. He grins and repeats it back to me.

He lowers his voice in a conspiratorial way. “So…you’re watching someone, I take it. Anyone I know?”

Feeling bemused by his attention, I shake my head, quickly losing control of this situation.

“For a writer, you seem to be at a loss for words. Do I make you speechless, Penelope?”

I scoff. “No.”

“I’m curious as to what has your attention back here.” He slides in next to me behind the plant, his shoulder brushing against mine. He’s a giant next to my slender frame, and all at once, I feel protected and safe, which is entirely wrong. It’s probably his male pheromones, lulling me into softness before the kill—and damn if it isn’t working. He murmurs something about us hiding together and spying on people, but I’m distracted because my face is up close and personal with the chest hair that pokes out of his shirt. I want to trail my fingers through it and see if it’s as soft as it looks. He smells like alpha male and sex. Hard, passionate sex that makes you orgasm fast and furious.

Not that I have any firsthand knowledge of that, of course, but I have my fantasies.

Gird your loins, Penelope.

Resist the quarterback.

But I’m getting sucked in.

I blame it on the dimple that appears when he smiles. My stomach does that fluttering thing again, and this time, I can’t shoo the butterflies away. I’m weak. I move my eyes up the strong column of his tanned throat to meet his gaze. At least ten seconds go by as we take each other in.

What. Is. Happening?

“You’re pretty,” he murmurs. “Have I ever told you that?”

“We don’t usually talk except for when I take your order.”

His hand reaches up and briefly touches a piece of my hair that’s fallen out of my topknot. He rubs it between his fingers. “Your hair…it’s—”

“Auburn,” I manage, clearing my throat.

“It reminds me of a new penny, the way the amber color catches the light…” His voice trails off, and he bites his bottom lip. “God, that has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.”

“You have worse lines. Tell me, is doing laundry code for sex?” I say, staring up at him. I’m itching to straighten my glasses, a nervous reflex, but my hands are holding the tray.

“I only use lines on jersey chasers. You’re the kind of girl I have to work for.”

“What about your discriminating tastes?”

“Pure bluff. I think we have a real connection, Penelope.” His face is closer now, and I swallow, wondering how we must look to everyone else in the restaurant. I realize that in the process of talking, we’ve backed up to the wall behind the plant, and I figure the only table we’re visible to is the football one, but I don’t tear my eyes away from Ryker to check.

“You smell like rainbows,” he says.

My chest rises. I’m enjoying his full-court press. It’s…intoxicating. “What does a rainbow smell like?”

“Sweet and delicious.”

“It’s the suckers.” His eyes land on my lips, and it almost feels as if he’s touched them. Heat rushes over my skin. “The red ones are my favorite. I think they’re cherry or strawberry or raspberry…definitely not cranberry…that’s disgusting,” I say, rambling, feeling disoriented.

“It’s crazy, but I really want to kiss you right now,” he murmurs.

My eyes drift over his shoulder to where Connor’s table is. I can’t see his face, but I know he’s there, and even though I’m drugged by Ryker’s proximity, I remind myself he’s the one I should kiss.

Not Ryker.

Ryker is a player—just like my dad was.

He watches the direction of my gaze and follows it. “You’ve been watching Dimples hitz, haven’t you?” he says, a frown line appearing on his forehead. “Are you into him?”

My stomach dips. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you hightailed it over here when he walked in and you’ve been hiding ever since. So, I figure he either did you wrong or you’re infatuated, and since I haven’t heard any gossip about you and him, I’m guessing you must have a thing for him.”

Abort! Abort!He knows too much!

Sanity slowly returns to my brain in small increments, and I take a deep breath, orienting myself as questions race through my head. What if he uses my crush against me? Maybe he wants revenge for the article. I don’t know!

Flustered and unsure, my eyes dart around the restaurant, looking for an exit so I don’t have to answer his question.

My gaze lands on the football table he came from, and I notice Archer watching us with focused interest, a calculating look on his face as he whips his eyes from me to Ryker. He leans over and whispers to Blaze, who turns to peer in our direction. I pause, my brain analyzing and decoding. Why is Archer suddenly interested in what Ryker is doing over here with me—especially when there’s a pretty co-ed sitting right next to him, tracing little circles on his bicep?

Yet Archer’s eagle eyes are onus. Watchful.

I notice all three players at the table have suddenly given us their attention, anticipation evident on their faces.

Alarms go off in my head and things start to click into place.

How nice he was to me. How we ‘have a connection’. Yeah, right.

Mortification washes over me.

How could I not have seen it sooner?

God, I am an idiot.I was so distracted…

I’m a bet. A stupid freaking bet.

I feel like someone just punched me in the gut.

My survival instinct tells me to get away from Ryker, and obviously,I could just walk away and hold my head high, but I want to make a point and show those football players they can’t toy with me. I release the tray I’ve been balancing for what seems like days in his direction. The contents of the glasses spill out and crash to the floor, watered-down soda and ice drenching us before dripping down to the floor. The plastic glasses make a horrible clattering noise on the wooden floors, and I imagine most everyone in the restaurant heard it. I don’t look to see their faces. I only glare at Ryker.

He jumps back and stares down at the mess on his khaki pants then looks back at me. “Remind me to never bring up Dimpleshitz again.”

“Stop your games, Ryker.”

His face stills. “What games?”

My teeth snap together. Enough.

 

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About the Author


Wall Street Journal, New York Times, and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap. She’s best known for her angsty, heartfelt new adult college romances.

A former high school English teacher, she adores all things Pride and Prejudice; Mr. Darcy is her ultimate hero.

She’s also addicted to frothy coffee beverages, Vampire Diaries, and any kind of book featuring unicorns and sword-wielding females.

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