books · excerpt reveal · romance

Excerpt Reveal: Perversion by T.M. Frazier

USA Today bestselling author of the King Series, T.M. Frazier, brings you an all new trilogy with an anti-hero you’re going to love to hate and a ballsy heroine with tricks up her sleeve.

PERVERSION, book one in the all-new Perversion Trilogy is coming September 25th and we have the first sneak peek for you!

PERVERSION FULL REVEAL DAY

Synopsis

Love is supposed to be magical.

Ours is suicidal.

The first time I met Emma Jean Parish,

she conned me into taking her p*ssy.

Her cat.

When she was sixteen,

she manipulated me into giving her

her very first kiss.

At eighteen she gave me everything.

She’s a con artist.

I’m a criminal.

I use her.

She manipulates me.

The attraction between us is explosive.

When it detonates

we could both wind up dead.


PERVERSION IS BOOK ONE IN THE PERVERSION TRILOGY

BOOK TWO: POSSESSION

BOOK THREE: PERMISSION

PERVERSION_PRE_ORDER

Pre-order your copy of PERVERSION today!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2LAHwpP

iBooks: https://apple.co/2AzVzrm

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/PerversionTMF

Nook: https://goo.gl/6cHFKH

Kobo: https://bit.ly/2JwQaQX

Paperback: https://amzn.to/2LTMTR3

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/perversionGR


Excerpt:

Emma Jean

When I was younger, I fell in love with magic. I learned every card trick there was from library books and unmasking magic TV specials. I used to put on shows for Gabby that included escaping from complicated knots and trick handcuffs. But what’s magic besides a sleight of hand?

It’s a lie.

And lying is what I’m damn good at.

My ability to spin a tall tale or two lead to stealing wallets and conning people into taking stray pets for the thrill of it. Now, I’m using it to earn for Marco. The thrill is there, but it’s muted, hindered, lost under his pile of mounting threats.

The inside of the casino smells like stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and burnt coffee. We’re not supposed to be in here. It’s Bedlam territory. But that’s also why it’s perfect.

It isn’t like anyone would recognize us here.

We’ve made friends with a few of the cocktail waitresses by giving them a small cut, and they don’t ask questions or ring any alarms when they see us working. I’ve also been straightening my hair over the last few years since my crazy curls stand out like a reflector on a dark highway. I’ve dyed it a few shades darker than my normal honey blonde to help blend in.

Tonight is starting off well. Gabby and I are working a con we’ve run a few times before.

Gabby walks away, her long dark hair swooshing behind her. She gives me a nod as she passes me by on the slot machine I’m pretending to play. She’s just faked losing an expensive engagement ring at another slot machine. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she frantically looked around for it, then loudly announced a thousand-dollar reward would be waiting at the casino cage for whoever returned it.

She is flawless. She should be an actress. And in another life, she would be.

But we don’t live in another life.

We live in Lacking and belong to Los Muertos.

Our lives are not our own.

A few people casually look around the area, then return to their machines when they don’t find the ring Gabby was ranting about. They won’t either. Because it’s not there.

Yet.

It’s go time.

I strut over to the area Gabby just left and put a dollar in the machine. While the wheels spin, I pretend to pick up the dime store ring I already have in my hand. By the time the machine dings to tell me I’ve lost my dollar, I’m turning the ring over, inspecting it like I don’t have half a dozen more just like it in my drawer back at the apartment.

“Would you look at that?” I mutter to myself loud enough so others around me can hear.

A man in an Adidas jumpsuit with a potbelly taps me on the shoulder. “I’ll take that. I saw the woman who dropped it. I’ll go return it to her.”

Liar. You just want the reward.

“That’s so nice of you,” I say. I hold it out, about to drop it into his hand when I pull it back. “I bet there’s a reward for something this valuable.” I start to walk around the man. “I’ll take it up to management. Maybe, they know…”

“Here,” the man says, holding up a hundred-dollar bill. “Take this. I’ll take it to her. I just…you know, as I said, I want to make sure it gets back to the right person.”

You’re not even a good liar.

Sometimes, it’s just too freaking easy. And this scam wasn’t even an Emma Jean and Gabby original. We saw it a long time ago in a movie starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. Doesn’t anyone else watch movies?

I shrug and pass him the ring. Plucking the bill from his hand, I tuck it into my bra. “Thanks,” I say before quickly making my way toward the large glass front doors. It’s Thursday. Marco’s money is due in two days, and we’re short this week.

Really short.

I walk slowly and wave goodbye to the valets with a smile on my face. “Any luck, tonight?” One asks me.

“I think so,” I answer with a smile. Once I’m down the sidewalk and out of view, I scramble to the side of the casino where I kick off my heels and change from the sequined dress I’d stolen from a dry-cleaner into a pair of cut-off shorts and my yellow Keds.

Now, all I have to do is wait for Gabby.

I don’t have to wait long.

“Run!” Gabby yells, darting from the doors of the casino with two large men wearing tight black security t-shirts close behind. Running from security is terrifying enough, knowing that we’re running from members of the Bedlam Brotherhood kicks it up a notch.

I grab my backpack and sling it across my shoulders. I move as fast as I can until I’m running right alongside her. We race through the gates, cross the street, narrowly avoiding being hit by two cars. We duck into a hole in a fence and run through one backyard after the other.

“One of those cunt waitresses must have tipped them off!” Gabby says, through shallow breaths. She’s barefoot in a black mini-dress hiked up to her ass to give her long legs room to run. Her long thick hair is wrapped around her face, sticking to her mouth.

We hit the sixth backyard. Without another word, we separate behind a clothesline. We’ve mapped out this escape plan a thousand times, but this is the first time we’ve ever had to use it.

When I make it into the central part of town, to the Los Muertos/Bedlam border, I can no longer hear the shouts of the security guards. I lost them.

Hopefully, Gabby did, too.

I use a tower of stacked-up wooden pallets on the sidewalk like a ladder to scale a concrete wall, then drop down into the alley.

I grow more panic-stricken the longer I wait for Gabby. I bite the inside of my lip, pacing back and forth along the high wall. The Bedlam Brotherhood runs the security at the casino. If they catch her and find out who she is? Or worse? Who her brother is? They’ll… I shake the thought from my mind. She’ll be fine.

She HAS to be fine.

Please be okay, Gabby. Please.

I’m trying to catch my breath and pull myself together when I hear a clink echo through the alley as if someone dropped some spare change, followed by the sound of something heavy dropping to the asphalt.

“Gabby?” I ask into the darkness. Thinking it’s her, relief washes over me like rain on a barren desert.

My only answer is the flickering of a fluorescent light mounted high on the roof’s edge of the adjoining building. And the hiss of what sounds like a cat behind a dumpster.

I walk over and peer around it. “Gabby? Are you hurt? Say something!” I whisper-shout.

Someone moves from within the shadow. “Get out here, Gabby. We’ve got to go before Mar…”

The light flickers again, for just a second. That second is all I need to see that the someone slowly stalking toward me is not Gabby.

It’s a man…twice my size.

“Who are you?” I ask, shuffling backward as the man cloaked in a black leather hood emerges from the shadows. The front of his jacket is open. Underneath, he’s shirtless, covered in a sheen of sweat, and more tattoos than visible skin all the way up the front of his throat. His muscled chest and abs flex with each step he takes. The hood shadows most of his face, but when the lights flicker again, yellow eyes glow from within.

And they’re locked on me.

My ‘save your ass’ mode kicks in.

The man is blocking the only exit. My only other chance of escape is to scale the same wall I used to drop into the alley.

I keep moving backward as he approaches until my back hits the wall. I look left and right for something to use to climb on.

There’s nothing but emptiness.

My stomach sinks, but surrender is not an option.

I swallow hard as the alarm bells scream in my head for me to run. Somewhere. Anywhere.

There’s nowhere to go!

My legs tremble. Fear crawls like a million spiders along the backs of my legs. I push myself further against the wall as if I can squish the feeling away, but it’s useless.

Fear consumes me. Swallows me whole.

He continues toward me. As he gets closer, I realize it’s not just sweat glistening on his skin. There’s something else splattered across the tattoos on his chest and on his stubbled jaw.

It almost looks like wet paint.

My breathing stops when he’s close enough that I can make out the tattoo on the front of his throat.

A bleeding black rose.

The symbol of the Bedlam Brotherhood.

I’ve heard stories about Grim. The man in the hood. The executioner for Bedlam. They were all terrifying, but not nearly as terrifying as the reality of coming face to face with the man himself.

“We didn’t do anything,” I blurt. “I mean, we did, but it wasn’t a big deal. I’ll…I’ll give the money back. Just tell your men not to hurt my friend. It was all my idea. Let her go, and you can take me.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks. His voice is so thick and deep I feel it more than hear it. Shivers erupt all over my body.

He raises his arm, revealing a long curved blade.

For the first time in my life, I can’t seem to be able to hide my fear with my wit or sarcasm. My throat tightens. I can’t swallow, never mind speak. I’ve lost my words completely, along with my nerve.

The man’s blade drips red onto the pavement from the serrated tip.

Every fear response I didn’t even know I had runs rampant. I’m holding my breath. My muscles tense as if running was still an option. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck prickle my skin as they stand on end. I raise up to my tip-toes and push back, trying to make myself disappear into the wall.

I glance from the knife back to his chest, then back again. The splatters across his skin?

It’s not fucking paint.

Before I can process what the hell is happening, he switches from slow-stalking mode into hyper-speed, pinning my wrists above my head. His hard, bloodied chest pushes against me, smearing blood across my white tank top, forcing the back of my head to connect roughly with the wall.

“I’ll only ask you this one more time. Who the fuck are you?” His low guttural growl rattles my bones.

His unblinking, angry, golden eyes lock onto mine. Without the fluorescent light, they’re more golden brown than a glowing yellow. As much as I want to, I can’t look away. He could be the last person I ever see.

The thought is just the spike of adrenaline I need.

“Let me go,” I say, finally finding my words. I try and jerk my wrists from his grip with no luck. I’m trapped. My fear and anger rise to the surface, but I shove it back down. Fear won’t get me out of this situation, so it will have to wait for its damned turn.

He digs his rough fingers into my skin. “Answer me. Who the fuck are you?”

The bite of pain only makes me angrier. I throw his question back at him. “Who the fuck are you?”

He glances down at my rapidly rising and falling chest before pinning me with his stare. The corner of his mouth tugs up in a half-smirk.

“So much confidence for someone who’s trembling,” he says with an amused glint shining in his demonic eyes.

I shrug. “Maybe, I’m just not a fan of enclosed spaces,” I say through gritted teeth.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says.

“Why do you have blood all over you?” I answer him with yet another question. “You know, if you were committing some kind of crime back there, you should be more careful. I recommend a bleach bath and death by fire for your clothes the first chance you get. If it’s self-harm, I’m sure there’s a helpline you can call.”

He cocks his head to the side. His nostrils flare. His face is only inches away. I can feel the heat from his body against mine. His cool breath flutters against my neck.

I’ve never been this close to a man before. My trembling grows. My inner thighs shake sending a rippling wave of something very unfamiliar coursing through the center my body. I try and press my legs together to stop it from happening again, but when he uses his knee to wedge my legs apart, caging me in even further, it only grows, uncoiling from within like a slinky being pulled apart at the ends.

I swallow hard as the stubble of his jaw presses against my neck.

“Name,” he demands, his voice raspier than before.

I shut my eyes tight for a beat, trying to gain composure, control, something that will help me as I try and reason my way out of this. “Listen, I didn’t see anything,” I blurt. “That is if you did anything. I’m not going to call the police if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t anyway, even if I saw something, which I didn’t.”

His brows knit together in a harsh line. “Why?”

His question confuses me.

“Why what?”

“Why wouldn’t you tell the police?”

Because Marco owns them.

“Let’s just say that I haven’t exactly been a model citizen myself tonight. Let’s face it. If the police around here weren’t being paid not to do their jobs, half this town would be locked up.” I take a deep, shaky breath. “Especially people like us.”

He stills. There’s no more talking. Only heavy breathing and a battle of wills. He releases one of my hands. I think he’s reaching for his knife. My blood turns cold. I can feel my face pale as my heart starts beating as faster and faster as if it wants to get in as many as possible before the end.

I’m surprised when he doesn’t go for his knife. Instead, his hand travels slowly down my chest into my cleavage.

“No, don’t!” I say, but it’s too late, he’s already yanked on my locket.

“Please just give it back, and let me go,” I plead. Feeling like it’s my real heart he’s torn from my chest. “It’s the only thing in this world that means anything to me. Besides my best friend, it’s all I have.”

I hate the desperation in my voice, but it’s the truth.

He’s silent for a moment. He raises his arms. I flinch, raising my arms over my face defensively. But when nothing happens, I lower them, just in time to see him push back his hood, revealing his face.

“Why?” I ask, closing my eyes knowing full well that the only time a criminal reveals himself to a witness is right before they take them out.

“Look at me,” he demands, holding my face in his hand.

“No!” I say, shutting my eyes tighter.

“Look at me!” he bellows. He’s on me again. This time, he holds my head in his large rough hands. “Open your fucking eyes so you can see me.”

With no other choice than to get my head squished like a turtle under a car tire, I do as he demands. Opening my eyes, I blink through the haze, and when it clears, I’m met with tousled, medium-length, light brown hair, slicked back on the top, shorn close to head on the sides. His nose is slightly crooked like it’s been broken a few times before. The stubble on his square, defined jaw is a few days over needing a shave. A jagged scar runs through his chin like an angry white lightning bolt.

He’s the most fucking beautifully terrifying man I’ve ever seen.

He’s searching my eyes for something, but I don’t know what.

“Why?” I ask in a whisper.

His hands release mine, but he doesn’t step back. He leans in closer, speaking against my cheek in a rumble of a whisper. The strange feeling from earlier comes back as a zap of electricity bouncing around my insides looking for somewhere to ground.

I’m breathing heavy. Our lips are so close, almost touching. He slides one hand off my face, snaking it around my neck, pulling me closer. He starts to answer in a rumble of a whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on my already prickled skin. “Because I want you to see the face of the man who’s just—”

“Where the fuck are you?” calls Gabby from the other side of the wall. “I lost them!”

The moment, whatever it is, is now broken. The man releases me so suddenly I brace myself against the wall to keep from falling. I turn my head toward her voice.

“Gabby!” I shout back.

My heart is beating out of control. Out of habit, I raise my hand to my chest, seeking familiar comfort.

I look up. The man in the hood is gone.

And so is my locket.

 

About the Author

SQUARE HEADSHOT

T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier never dreamed that a single person would ever read a word she wrote when she published her first book. Now, she is a five-time USA Today bestselling author and her books have been translated into numerous languages and published all around the world.

T.M. enjoys writing what she calls sexy‘wrongside of the tracks romance’ with morally corrupt anti-heroes and ballsy heroines.

Her books have been described as raw, dark and gritty. Basically, what that means, is while some authors are great at describing a flower as it blooms, T.M. is better at describing it in the final stages of decay.

She loves meeting her readers, but if you see her at an event please don’t pinch her because she’s not ready to wake up from this amazing dream.


Connect with T.M. Frazier

Facebook: http://bit.ly/TMFRAZIERBOOKS
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2JWHAv8
GoodReads: https://amzn.to/2OjmESr
Join Frazierland:http://bit.ly/frazierland
BookBub: https://bit.ly/2xtlQ4u
Twitter: @TM_Frazier

Stay up to date with T.M. by signing up for her mailing list: http://bit.ly/TMFrazier Website: http://www.tmfrazierbooks.com

For Text Alerts: TEXT “TMFRAZIER” TO 77948

*Standard text messaging rates apply*

blog tour · books · enemies-to-lovers · excerpt · office romance · review · romance

Blog Tour + Review: Dirty Headlines by L.J. Shen

“Dirty Headlines is a fantastic enemies to lovers office romance with a perfect filthy asshole hero that I wish I’d written myself.”
– Laurelin Paige, New York Times bestselling author

Dirty Headlines, an all-new sexy, enemies-to-lovers romance from bestselling author L.J. Shen is available NOW!

LJSDirtyHeadlinesBookCover6x9_BW_324

Célian Laurent.

Manhattan royalty.

Notorious playboy.

Heir to a media empire.

…And my new boss.

I could have impressed him, if not for last month’s unforgettable one-night stand.

I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory—namely, his wallet.

Now he’s staring me down like I’m the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I’m supposed to take it.

But the thing about being Judith “Jude” Humphry is I have nothing to lose.

Brooklyn girl.

Infamously quirky.

Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch.

When he looks at me from across the room, I see the glint in his eyes, and that makes us rivals.

He knows it.

So do I.

Every day in the newsroom is a battle.

Every night in his bed, war.

But it’s my heart at stake, and I fear I’ll be raising the white flag.

DIRTY-HEADLINES-AN-TWO.jpg

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2wLg9ka

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/DirtyHeadlines:

Paperback: https://amzn.to/2MMSl9p

Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2GuCKIB

DH 6 heartbreakingly beautiful.jpg

Excerpt:

He had an American accent. Not French. American. Smooth. Familiar. Ordinary. He fired out sentences at the speed of light. I heard him, but I couldn’t listen. Shock gripped my body as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. My dirty one-night stand was my boss. My lying, American boss. And now I had to deal with that—hopefully for a very long time, because I desperately needed this job.

Someone snapped their fingers, and my gaze shot from Célian’s face to Grayson.

His forehead had crumpled into a frown. “You look like you’re trying hard not to cry or having a really intense orgasm. I’m hoping for you that it’s the latter and some kind of a weird-slash-awesome condition. You okay?”

I nodded, scraping up a smile. “Sorry. Zero orgasms happening under this dress. I just zoned out for a second.”Lies. I was about to orgasm just remembering how good Célianhad felt parting my thighs with his big, callused hands and dipping his tongue into my slit.

Then words stopped streaming down on everyone’s heads like a scalding shower, and I realized that indeed there was something worse than hearing Célianspeak in his perfect American English. And that was not hearing him speak at all. Because now the icicles were pointed at me like a cocked gun.

I glanced up to meet his gaze. He stared at me for exactly one second before his focus snapped to Grayson. “Am I understood, Gregory?” he asked.

Gregory?

“Crystal clear, sir,” Grayson bowed, his voice trembling at the edges.

Célian jerked his chin toward me. “Your cover girl material is going downhill.”

God. Damn. Bastard.

He recognized me, and I knew it. His eyes had kindled, melting the ice and growing darker the minute our gazes mingled. He remembered, and maybe it killed him that I was here in the same way it buried me.

I want my iPod back, my gaze told him. I had over three thousand songs on that thing, and they were all too good to be wasted on that jerk.

“Jude Humphry. Junior reporter. It’s her first day,” Grayson highlighted, almost pleadingly. He shifted in my direction, as if he might need to physically protect me from the sharp-tongued, suited monster.

I suppressed a smile when I realized I’d told Célianmy last name was Spears. Well, he certainly wasn’t a Timberlake. He was a Laurent. An American monarch through and through. A billionaire, a powerful force, and judging by our one and only encounter—a raging playboy.

This man was inside you, I internally shrieked. And not just once. His cock was buried so deep in you, you screamed. You can still taste the salty, earthy flavor of his cum.You know he has a freckle on his lower back. You know what sound he makes when he empties inside a woman.

I internally thanked my mind for ruining my panties in public, and nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” I offered him my hand, my face flushing with embarrassment at my choice of words.

Everyone was looking at us, and there were at least fifty people in the room. Célian—if that was even his name—ignored my outreached hand. Instead, he turned his face to the man beside him. “Mathias, any other words of wisdom?”

Mathias? Wasn’t that his father? Just how cold was the man with the icy blue eyes?

“I think you touched everything,” said the big boss—and he did have a heavy French accent, so at least the lie had a seed. Mathias stared at me placidly, like he could read the secret his son and I shared on my face.

Célian spun toward me, uncuffing his cufflinks and rolling his sleeves up his veiny forearms. “Accounting can go back to their unfortunate line of work. Couture is excused from this meeting—though not forgiven for their horrid blog. Miss Humphry?” He snapped his fingers impatiently.

He was already waltzing down the narrow hallway, knowing I’d chase him like a puppy, and no doubt taking pleasure in that fact.

“I have a bone to pick with you.”

Bone, boner—same difference, right?

I shot Grayson a please-save-my-butt look. His eyes said, I would but I still have a life to live.

I followed Célian down the hall, my Chucks slapping the floor in a hurry. He sliced through the throng of accountants, then stopped at a corner office, opened the door, barked “Out!” to the man inside, and tilted his head for me to go in. I did. He closed the door, and it was just the two of us.

Two feet of empty space between us.

About LJ Shen:

 

LJShen

L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.

Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets people’s’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.

She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.

Connect with L.J. Shen:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorljshen/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lj_shen
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorljshen/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorljshen/

Stay up to date with L.J. Shen by signing up for her mailing list:
http://bit.ly/2umcYPg

Website: http://www.authorljshen.com/


review-banner

Say hello to one of my favorite books of the years, if not my favorite, and the reason I am currently experiencing a bit of a book hangover. 

This year I finally got around to reading L.J. Shen and I am honestly still kind of kicking myself for waiting this long. BUT, I’m so unbelievable happy that I did because I probably wouldn’t have read Dirty Headlines and that should be a crime because this book is fan-freaking-tastic! 

There were just so many things that I loved about this book:
-Enemies-to-lovers? Check.
-Office romance? Check.
-Asshole/Jerk hero with a very dirty mouth? Check.
-Sassy, unique, yet holds-her-own heroine? Check.
-Age gap? Check.

“This man was a walking, sneezing orgasm.”

This quote, in my opinion, perfectly describes Célian Laurent. This man, oh my god, he is one of the sexiest heroes I have ever read and I want one of my own. Boy, oh boy does he have a mouth on him. Some of the stuff that he says I literally had to re-read them because I couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth. On top of his filthy, filthy mouth, Célian is also arrogant, bossy, and a total asshole who wields a lot power and commands every room he steps into. He is used to barking orders and having everyone around him yield to his demands. Of course, all that changes when he meets Judith “Jude” Humphry.

The only way to describe Célian and Jude’s chemistry with one another is explosive. Like, I mean that almost literally based purely on the scene when they first get together because even I felt the fireworks as I was reading. Neither thought they would see each other again after that night, but the universe had other plans. And, just like that, Célian meets his match in Jude who brings all the sass and doesn’t take any of his shit.

Jude was such a lovable character not just because she held her own against Célian. L.J. Shen does an amazing job writing heroines that are relatable but also have these little quirks about them that you just can’t help but love. Jude’s quirk was her shoe collection. She only wore Chucks, in various different colors, but she chose each pair purposely in connection to a certain moment because the color symbolized something. They were like her good luck charms and, while I am not particularly a fan of Chucks, I adored this element of her character so much.

There are so many other things I could gush about in regards to this book but I think you should find out about them for yourselves. If you couldn’t already tell, I loved it.

All I can say is please, please read this book.

5 stars

books · excerpt reveal · romance

Excerpt Reveal: Sweet Insanity by Desiree Adele

Check out this enticing excerpt for SWEET INSANITY by Desireé Adele! Don’t forget to add it to your TBR!

received_286949852035505

NA Contemporary Romance/Sports Romance
Stand Alone
Designed by: Melissa Panio-Petersen

Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40738296-sweet-insanity


Old hurt runs deep…

After she left, I was given a second chance at life thanks to my savior and adoptive father. A chance I refused to waste. Determined to be invincible, I became a true fighter in every sense of the word. Nothing and no one would get in my way.

Not even the guy who sat behind me in class.

Zack Graves had the entire world in his hands. A promising hockey career and the confidence and gorgeous looks that had every girl throwing themselves at his feet.

Except me. I was only too happy to wipe the sexy smirk off his face while tossing him on his smug ass.

And he kept coming back for more.

I kept my scars hidden, until Zack managed to trace the lines straight to a place I fought to keep guarded.

Zack was fighting his own immortality, his own scars becoming visible the closer we got. He challenged my guard at every turn forcing me to fight harder, only to realize he would be my undoing.

But some wounds refuse to heal.


EXCERPT:

A wave of anticipation has my already long stride picking up faster. For the first time since the semester began, I’m antsy as hell to get to criminal psychology for no other reason than to see those glaring aqua eyes and hear that feisty mouth, again. She just happened to unknowingly incite an interesting game of cat and mouse. And this cat wants to play.

When I cross the threshold of the classroom doorway, my gaze immediately goes to the seat directly in front of mine. I expect to see a mane of Auburn hair, but instead, my eyes are met with an empty seat.

Shit.

I’m always one of the last students to walk in before Cormac begins his weekly rambling. Every week when my alarm goes off, I tell myself I’m not going to hit the snooze button, only to end up hitting it at least four times.

Racking my brain, I try to recall all of the times I’ve rushed into class and plopped my ass in my seat. From what I manage to remember, the seat in front of mine has always been occupied by the time I got there.

Fuck, looks like the little tyrant either isn’t coming or she pulled a Keith and slept straight through her alarm.

Slumping into my seat with disappointment, I retrieve my phone from my back pocket, my thumb hovering over the sound button. After switching it to vibrate, I place it on the corner of my desk so if she happens to walk in, it’ll be at the ready for when I turn the sound back on. I want to look as though I’m conceding to her demands and witness the burning fury in her eyes when she realizes I’m not. Call me a sadist, but I’m dying to poke this particular blue-eyed bull and taunt her a bit. There’s nothing I love more than playing a good game, and I’m out to win.

I cross my arms and lock my eyes on the doorway as Cormac rises from his chair and moves to the whiteboard.

Maybe she was so annoyed that she dropped the class. Or maybe she’s too embarrassed to face me after her chewing my ass out.

What the fuck could have happened to her? And more importantly, why do I give a shit?

I’ve been cussed out by girls before. One of them went so far as to snatch my laptop off my desk and smash it on the floor. That certainly made for an embarrassing phone call with my father as I tried—and failed—to covertly explain why I needed a new computer.

The difference between those girls and the one who has been occupying my mind far too often for comfort is that I earned those girls’ anger. Well, except the laptop murderer. That was uncalled for . . . I mean, really?

This is a girl I’ve never even spoken to, let alone bedded and jetted, as Keith so artfully describes it. And I’ll be damned if my dick didn’t twitch at the bold look on her face and annoyance in her tone.

That still doesn’t explain my sick fascination with her.

My head snaps up when someone steps through the entryway, a jolt of undeniable excitement rushing through me. The hand holding my phone flexes with the hope that it’s her, only to be met with yet another disappointment. The newcomer is a girl with cotton-candy-colored hair and a fashion sense that paints a picture of her sitting in a circle on the campus lawn with some dude who reeks of patchouli incense and singing “Kumbaya.”

Shoulders sagging, I flip open my computer, not giving a rat’s ass about the girl or why she’s here. That is, until I overhear her talking to our professor.

“Here to pick up any assignments,” she explains to him.

Swiveling my head back and forth for my own attendance check, I see that the only person who isn’t present is the occupant of the seat in front of mine and, lately, of my thoughts as well.

Cormac flips open a binder, a hand running a pen up and down the page as though he’s scouring for something. “Name?”

“Dahlia Anastas.”

Dahlia . . . her name is Dahlia! What the fuck did I think her name was? Sylvia? Guess I was kind of close. Pretty sad that I’m mentally patting myself on the back for almost remembering a girl’s name. Especially one I’ve no association with, save being on the receiving end of her temper.

With virtually no explanation besides a temporary bout of insanity, I stand and approach Cormac and the girl who is obviously one of Dahlia’s friends.

“Can I help you, Mr. Graves?” Cormac inquires as I step up to the front of the desk.

“Uh, just that I’d be happy to bring Ms. Anastas her assignments.”

Now they’re staring at me. Hippie girl’s wearing an expression of intense bewilderment, while Cormac’s face remains as sullen as ever. I swear to God, I’ve seen statues with a wider variety of facial expressions.

“I see, and what might your association with Ms. Anastas be?” Cormac asks in a suspicious tone.

Holy hell, this is starting to get embarrassing. I can see the headlines in the college newspaper now: From Hockey Star to Stalker Boy.

This conversation has already taken a turn for the worse, and I find myself scrambling to come up with a believable reason. “Uhh, just trying to help out one of my classmates?”

I don’t intend for it come out as a question. Smooth, Zack. No wonder the ladies are crazy for you. Can’t argue with that kind of wit.

With his brow cocked in confusion, Cormac waves me away. “Please return to your seat, Mr. Graves.”

Yeah, this is one of the downright dumbest fucking ideas I’ve ever had. I seriously need a lesson in self-control.

Embarrassed, I scratch the back of my neck and turn my attention to hippie girl. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation.”

Making my way back to my desk, I make a mental note to check myself before acting on another stupid compulsion like that.

Hippie girl’s voice sounds from behind me. “No problem, Chester Chatterbox.”

When I jerk my head over my shoulder to look back, her face is alight with amusement. She was obviously teasing me.

Chester Chatterbox? Where in the ever-loving fuck did that come from?

db608-si1Sweet4

There’s still time to sign up to review!
Teasers: Sept 18, 25
Release day blast: Sept 27
Review Tour: Sept 27- Oct 4

*Readers welcome to review. We just ask that you post a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
SIGN UP HERE!

About the Author:

35493880_10216558253971594_6997335623149289472_n

Author Desireé Adele grew up with a passion for all things literature.

Upon discovering the world of indie romance, Desireé found her tribe and started her journey as a blogger and booktuber, eventually turning her attention to her lifelong aspiration of becoming an author.

Aside from losing herself in a good book, she enjoys listening to progressive metal, working out, and cooking.

Desireé currently resides in Connecticut with her husband and young son, who serve as her biggest inspirations in her writing journey.

Facebook Author Page

Twitter

books · enemies-to-lovers · release blitz · romance · sports romance

Release Blitz: Block Shot by Kennedy Ryan

“Kennedy Ryan’s writing continues to amaze and inspire. She is a genius wordsmith and a prose poet. And in Banner Morales, she has created the perfect heroine for this day and age. Don’t miss this read. It’s everything.”
Emma Scott, Bestselling Author

Block Shot, Kennedy Ryan’s enemies-to-lovers, second-chance standalone romance is LIVE and FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

KRBlockShotBookCover5x8_MEDIUM.jpg

JARED

If I had a dollar for every time Banner Morales made my heart skip a beat…

The heart everyone assumes is frozen over.

Her anger is…arousing.

Every glare from those fire-spitting eyes, every time she grits her teeth,

gets me…well, you know.

If I had a dollar for every time she’s put me in my place, I’d be an even richer man.

I’m a successful sports agent because I assume “no” means you’ll think about it.

I’m sure what you meant to say is “Coming right up.”

They say even rich men don’t always get what they want,

but those men don’t know how to play the game. The trick is to keep them guessing.

Take Banner. She assumes she’s winning, but this game?

She doesn’t even know how to play.

BANNER

If I had a dollar for every time Jared Foster broke my heart, I’d have exactly one dollar.

One night. One epic fail. One dollar…and I’m out.

I’ve moved on.

I’ve found success in a field ruled by men.

Anything they can do, I have done better.

They can keep the field while I call the shots, blocking them when I have to.

And Jared has the nerve to think he gets a second chance?

Boy, please. Go sit down. Have several seats.

I’ll just be over here ignoring the man carved from my fantasies with a lust-tipped chisel.

Oh, I didn’t say the struggle wasn’t real.

But I’ve got that one dollar, and Jared won’t have me.

BLOCKSHOT_AVAILABLE NOW1.jpg

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

*Special release price $2.99! Price goes up soon!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2QmF0TE

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/BlockShotKR

Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2IbeQOU

BLOCK SHOT TEASER AN.jpg

Enter the BLOCK SHOT BOSS Giveaway!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

About Kennedy

Kennedy Ryan

A Top 30 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy Ryan writes about women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the center of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.

She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine and Frolic, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director of a foundation serving Atlanta Autism families, she has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for families living with autism.

Connect with Kennedy

Never Miss A Release! Follow Kennedy on BookBub:
bookbub.com/authors/kennedy-ryan

New Release Txt: https://clk2.me/mgFv

Subscribe to Mailing List: http://bit.ly/2QjisCW

Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/681604768593989/

Instagram: www.instagram.com/kennedyryan1/

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

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

Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/kennedyryan

Book+Main: https://bookandmainbites.com/kennedyryan

Website: http://kennedyryanwrites.com

 

books · enemies-to-lovers · office romance · release blitz · romance

Release Blitz: Dirty Headlines by L.J. Shen

“Dirty Headlines is a fantastic enemies to lovers office romance with a perfect filthy asshole hero that I wish I’d written myself.” – Laurelin Paige, New York Times bestselling author

Dirty Headlines, an all-new sexy, enemies-to-lovers romance from bestselling author L.J. Shen is LIVE!

LJSDirtyHeadlinesBookCover6x9_BW_324

Célian Laurent.

Manhattan royalty.

Notorious playboy.

Heir to a media empire.

…And my new boss.

I could have impressed him, if not for last month’s unforgettable one-night stand.

I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory—namely, his wallet.

Now he’s staring me down like I’m the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I’m supposed to take it.

But the thing about being Judith “Jude” Humphry is I have nothing to lose.

Brooklyn girl.

Infamously quirky.

Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch.

When he looks at me from across the room, I see the glint in his eyes, and that makes us rivals.

He knows it.

So do I.

Every day in the newsroom is a battle.

Every night in his bed, war.

But it’s my heart at stake, and I fear I’ll be raising the white flag.

DIRTY-HEADLINES-AN-TWO.jpg

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2wLg9ka

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/DirtyHeadlines:

Paperback: https://amzn.to/2MMSl9p

Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2GuCKIB

37217190_1093112524162640_5545090357261238272_n.jpg


About LJ Shen:

LJShen

L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.

Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets people’s’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.

She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.

Connect with L.J. Shen:

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lj_shen

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorljshen/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorljshen/

Stay up to date with L.J. Shen by signing up for her mailing list:

http://bit.ly/2umcYPg

Website: http://www.authorljshen.com/

books · cover reveal · romance

Cover Reveal: Now or Never by Stella Rhys

Now or Never
An Irresistible Series Standalone
Author: Stella Rhys
Genre:Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy
Cover Design: Vivian Monir
Photo: Wong Sim
Model: Amadeo Leandro

Release Date: September 25, 2018

Blurb

He’s twelve years older. My brother’s best friend.
And for the next two weeks, he gets to have me in all the ways he’s ever wanted.

HOLLAND
The last time I saw him, he said he’d never want me.

But fast-forward five years, and more than a few things have changed.

He’s still Iain Thorn. He’s still my brother’s best friend and the painfully sexy man I clearly never stopped wanting. But me?

Apparently, I’ve grown up in more ways than he can resist.

IAIN
I’m going to hell for looking at her like this.

She’s too young for me. Too sweet and naive.

She has no idea what I would do to her.

But since the day she walked back in my life in that tight little dress, I’ve felt myself caving. I said I’d never in my life get involved with Holland Maxwell.

But since I’m already going to hell, I might as well make it worth it.

GOODREADS LINK:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41025410-now-or-never 

Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio

Stella Rhys is an author of contemporary romance and can’t help but write it hot, steamy and borderline filthy (just kidding, it’s just flat-out filthy). Writing aside, she lives for coffee, the Yankees and cooking recipes way out of her league. She was born and raised in New York and now lives there with her husband and charmingly entitled fur baby.

 

book blog · books · romance · sports romance · teaser

Teaser: Sweet Insanity by Desiree Adele

Check out this amazing teaser for SWEET INSANITY by Desireé Adele! Don’t forget to add it to your TBR!

NA Contemporary Romance/Sports Romance
Stand Alone
Designed by: Melissa Panio-Petersen

Old hurt runs deep…

After she left, I was given a second chance at life thanks to my savior and adoptive father. A chance I refused to waste. Determined to be invincible, I became a true fighter in every sense of the word. Nothing and no one would get in my way.

Not even the guy who sat behind me in class.

Zack Graves had the entire world in his hands. A promising hockey career and the confidence and gorgeous looks that had every girl throwing themselves at his feet.

Except me. I was only too happy to wipe the sexy smirk off his face while tossing him on his smug ass.

And he kept coming back for more.

I kept my scars hidden, until Zack managed to trace the lines straight to a place I fought to keep guarded.

Zack was fighting his own immortality, his own scars becoming visible the closer we got. He challenged my guard at every turn forcing me to fight harder, only to realize he would be my undoing.

But some wounds refuse to heal.

There’s still time to sign up to review!

Excerpt reveal: Sept 12

Teasers: Sept 4, 11, 18, 25
Release day blast: Sept 27
Review Tour: Sept 27- Oct 4
 
*Readers welcome to review. We just ask that you post a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.


About the Author:

Author Desireé Adele grew up with a passion for all things literature.

Upon discovering the world of indie romance, Desireé found her tribe and started her journey as a blogger and booktuber, eventually turning her attention to her lifelong aspiration of becoming an author.

Aside from losing herself in a good book, she enjoys listening to progressive metal, working out, and cooking.

Desireé currently resides in Connecticut with her husband and young son, who serve as her biggest inspirations in her writing journey.