New Release, Excerpt, Giveaway, & Review: His Accidental Heir (The McNeill Magnates) – Joanne Rock

Can she resist his brand of trouble in paradise?

HIS ACCIDENTAL HEIR
Billionaires and Babies 
Joanne Rock
Releasing June 6, 2017
Harlequin Desire



The Boss’s Baby Bargain

When resort developer Cameron McNeill goes undercover to root out problems at his prized island property, his first discovery is the irresistible concierge, Maresa Delphine. Her business smarts are vital to his mission. But the struggling single mom could help with his personal mission, too: fulfilling the marriage terms of his grandfather’s will.
Maresa is overwhelmed caring for her infant niece and tending to the demands of the resort’s sexy mystery guest. When he reveals himself as the owner, she’s thrown for a loop. But when he proposes…can she resist his brand of trouble in paradise?

Want more of the McNeill Brothers?

ANGIE’S REVIEW: I have said this before and am about to say it again, but I don’t typically read spicy books. It’s just a personal choice based on my faith.

But I continuously make an exception for Joanne Rock. Her books are always captivating and have you turning page after page as you fall in her characters. They are well developed and the male leads are always complex, cautious, and really big teddy bears at the end of the day. I haven’t found one that I don’t like and Cam may be my favorite to date. He never feels good enough and it takes the likable Maresa (This is my niece’s middle name!) to show him that he’s a lot stronger than he knows. I found myself going through an array of emotions as I navigated Maresa’s history.

While this could possibly be a standalone, I highly recommend reading the first two books in the series so that can meet all of the family in the McNeill family.

ANGIE’S RATING: ****

DISCLAIMER: I requested a review copy so that I could participate in the blog tour through Tasty Reads. All opinions are my own.



Four-time RITA nominee Joanne Rock has never met a romance sub-genre she didn’t like. The author of over seventy books enjoys writing a wide range of stories, most recently focusing on sexy contemporaries and small town family sagas. An optimist by nature and perpetual seeker of silver linings, Joanne finds romance fits her life outlook perfectly–love is worth fighting for. A frequent speaker at regional and national writing conferences she enjoys giving back to the writing community that nurtured and inspired her early career. She has a Masters degree in Literature from the University of Louisville but credits her fiction writing skills to her intensive study with friend and fellow author Catherine Mann. When she’s not writing, Joanne enjoys travel, especially to see her favorite sports teams play with her former sports editor husband and three athletic-minded sons.


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Excerpt
She appreciated the cooler breeze on her overheated skin, and the light mist of rain blowing in with it. Only now did she realize the strap of her sundress had fallen off one shoulder, the bodice slipping precariously down on one side. Before she could reach for it, however, Cameron slid a finger under the errant strap and lifted it into place.
Her skin hummed with pleasure where he touched her.
“Sorry.” He slid his hand away fast. “The bare shoulder was…” He shook his head. “I get distracted around you, Maresa. More than I should when I know you want to keep things professional.”
The room was mostly dark, except for a glow from the last light of day combined with a golden halo around a wall sconce near the bathroom. He must have turned that on when he’d entered the master suite and found her sleeping.
Dreaming.
“What about you?” Her voice carried the sultriness of sleep. Or maybe it was the sound of desire from her sexy imaginings. Even now, she could swear she remembered the feel of his strong thigh between hers, his chest pressed to aching breasts. “I can’t be the only one who wants to keep some professional objectivity.”
She slid her feet to the floor, needing to restore some equilibrium with him. Some distance. They sat on opposite sides of the chaise longue, the gathering storm stirring electricity in the air.
“Honestly?” A flash of lightning illuminated his face in full color for a moment before returning them to black-and-white. “I would rather abdicate my role as boss where you’re concerned, Maresa. Let my brother Quinn make any decisions that involve you or Rafe. My professional judgment is already seriously compromised.”
She breathed in the salty, charged air. Her hair blew silky caresses along her cheek. The gathering damp sat on her skin and she knew he must feel it, too. She was seized with the urge to lean across the chaise and lick him to find out for sure. If she could choose her spot, she’d pick the place just below his steely jaw.
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head, not following what he was saying. She was still half in dreamland, her whole body conspiring against logic and reason. Rebelling against all her workplace ethics. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
Much. They’d talked about a kiss. But there hadn’t been one.
His eyes swept her body with unmistakable want.
“Not yet. But I think you know how much I want to.” He didn’t touch her. He didn’t need to.
Her skin was on fire just thinking about it.
“What would your brother think of me if he knew we…” Images of her body twined together with this incredibly sexy man threatened to steal the last of her defenses. “How could he be impartial?”
Another flash of lightning revealed Cam in all his masculine deliciousness. His shirt was open at the collar, just the way it had been in her dream. Except now, his shirt was damp with raindrops, making the pale cotton cling like a second skin.
Cameron watched her steadily, his intense gaze as stirring as any caress. “You know the way you have faith in your brother’s good heart and good intentions? No matter what?”
She nodded. “Without question.”
“That’s how I feel about Quinn’s ability to be fair. He can tick me off sometimes, but he is the most levelheaded, just person I know.”
She weighed what he was saying. Thought about what it meant. “And you’re suggesting that if we acted on this attraction…you’d step out of the picture. Your brother becomes my boss, not you.”
“Exactly.” Cameron’s assurance came along with a roll of ominous thunder that rumbled right through the villa.
Right through her feet where they touched the floor.
Maresa felt as if she were standing at the edge of a giant cliff, deciding whether or not to jump. Making that leap would be terrifying. But turning away from the tantalizing possibilities—the lure of the moment—was no longer an option. Even before she’d fallen asleep, she’d known that her window for selfish pleasures was closing fast if Isla proved to be Rafe’s daughter and Maresa’s responsibility.
How could she deny herself this night?
“Yes.” She hurled herself into the unknown and hoped for the best. “I know that you’re leaving soon, and I’m okay with that. But for tonight, if we could be just a man and a woman…” The simple words sent a shiver of longing through her.
Even in the dim light, she could see his blue eyes flare hotter, like the gas fireplace in the Antilles Suite when you turned up the thermostat.
“You have no idea how much I was hoping you’d say that.” His words took on a ragged edge as his hands slid around her waist. He drew her closer.
Crushed her lips to his.

New Release, Excerpt, Giveaway, Review: Through Your Eyes (For Your Love #3) – Shannyn Schroeder

One Last Chance…

THROUGH YOUR EYES

For Your Love #3
Shannyn Schroeder
Releasing May 30th, 2017
Zebra Shout

ONE LAST CHANCE

Deirdre Murphy has had her life planned for her since she was born: Work in her parents’ noisy pub in rural Ireland. Live with her family until she marries. Marry her childhood sweetheart ASAP, since he’s decided sexy fun time should wait for marriage. None of it excites her. But before her fate closes in, Deirdre’s got one last visit to her Chicago cousins—where she can spend her mornings in a peaceful bakery, keep to herself, and savor the space she needs…. Until she meets Tommy O’Malley.

Tommy is as tough as his city and twice as ready to welcome her in. He’s covered in tattoos, stays up half the night inking them on other people, and has a reputation for being good with his hands. And he’s heart-pounding, forgot-her-words, can’t-stop-staring exciting.

Tommy knows he’s the opposite of everything Deirdre has prepared for. But to watch her set herself free, he’s willing to risk almost anything…

Don’t miss the other FOR YOUR LOVE titles!

ANGIE’S REVIEW: I don’t read steamy romance novels much, but I have devoured this series by Shannyn ever since I read the first book. Her writing flows and she is rather good about certain language not being used (as a woman of faith I cringe seeing certain cuss words in books; I have yet to see the name of God or Jesus used in a derogatory way for the most part in her books), though she isn’t afraid to throw some f bombs around.

I have been eager for Tommy’s story ever since reading the second book in this series. I was not disappointed in his and Deirdre’s sweet romance whatsoever. Tommy has been my favorite brother so far as he’s rather not like his family. I also loved learning about Deidre’s family.

This is definitely a series to read. While each book could be considered a standalone book, I highly recommend reading each book in order.

ANGIE’S RATING: ****

ANGIE’S DISCLAIMER: I received a review copy at my own request so that I could participate in this blog tour. All opinions are my own.



Shannyn Schroeder is the author of the O’Leary series, contemporary romances centered around a large Irish-American family in Chicago and the Hot & Nerdy series about 3 nerdy friends finding love. Her new series (For Your Love) will release this summer with the first title Under Your Skin. When she’s not wrangling her three kids or writing, she watches a ton of TV and loves to bake cookies.

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Excerpt
He drove to the bakery and found a parking spot in front. It was near closing and the business was empty.
He walked through the door and a sweet scent filled the air. The place hadn’t changed much over the years. The fake cakes they had on display were different, changing with the times, showing popular themes, but the classics remained on a high shelf near the ceiling.
One of his earliest memories was coming here with his dad and Jimmy to pick out his birthday cake. His dad had hoisted him up on his shoulders and told him to pick any cake design he wanted. He couldn’t have been more than four or five. It wasn’t long after his mom had been killed, but the memory was such a happy one. He didn’t remember feeling sad.
That realization made him feel crappy.
No one came from the back, so he called out, “Hello? I’m here to pick up a cake.”
From the back room, with her head down, she came toward him.
“Cupcake,” he whispered.
She moved to the counter opposite him and turned her back to dig through a stack of order slips. Her reddish-brown hair trailed down her back in a ponytail. Without any greeting, she asked, “Name?”
“O’Malley.”
She spun with the pink slips in her hand. Her light blue eyes were wide, and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose reminded him how cute she was.
“You’re back,” he said.
“Another cake for O’Malley?”
He lifted a shoulder. “There are five of us.”
“It’s good to know you’re not eating all this cake. I was beginning to think you had a wicked sweet tooth.”
“Uh, your cousin Moira told me you went back to Ireland.”
The papers in her hands crinkled, and a blush swept across her cheeks. “I did.”
“Are you staying long?”
“I’m not sure.” She focused on the slips, flipping through them, looking for his order.
When she found it, she pulled it from the stack and looked up. She waved it at him with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared to the back room, and Tommy sucked in a deep breath. This was it. He had another chance. All he had to do was open his mouth.
Why hadn’t Moira said anything? She knew he had a thing for her cousin. Maybe she was the one who’d put Jimmy up to making him get the cake. That definitely sounded like a Moira move. But to get Jimmy involved, that took skill. Moira was obviously better than he’d given her credit for.
Deirdre returned carrying a box. She slid it on the counter between them and lifted the lid. “Here you go.”
He barely glanced at it. No one would care if something was misspelled. His gaze locked on hers as she lowered the lid.
“Would you like to go out sometime?”
She stared for him so long, he began to wonder if he’d really spoken aloud.
“Uh . . . I have a boyfriend.”
“Oh.” The disappointment hit him hard. Again, he had to question why Moira wouldn’t tell him. This was the kind of pertinent information you gave a guy before he made a fool of himself.
“Your order is all paid for.” She nudged the box forward so he’d take the hint.
He scrambled for what to say to ease the tension. “Maybe you’d like to go out and do some sightseeing. As friends. You’re new to Chicago, and I could show you around.”
“Maybe.” Her eyes shifted away. It seemed no matter what he said, he made her nervous.
“Are staying with the O’Learys again?”
“Yes.”
“I’m right across the street. Stop by any time.”
She nodded and he took the cake from the counter. Not quite the answer he was looking for, but at least she hadn’t totally shot him down. She didn’t seem completely uninterested.
But boyfriend?

New Release, Excerpt, Giveaway, & Review: The Nanny Arrangement (Country Blues #2) – Rachel Harris


Their story would make one heck of a country song.  


THE NANNY ARRANGEMENT
Country Blues #2
Rachel Harris
Releasing May 22, 2017
Entangled Bliss
Soft-spoken and shy Hannah Fisher is determined to make the man she’s loved her entire life finally see her as a woman. With the help of a makeover, a new mission—Operation Find My Happy—and the convenient forced proximity of a tour bus, she vows to win her best friend Deacon’s heart.

Former bad boy and current fiddle player Deacon Latrell has the world at his fingertips: a new gig with a famous band, plus his best friend on tour as his son’s nanny.
Life couldn’t get much sweeter. Now if only he could stop imagining kissing the daylights out of his childhood BFF…

With one friend set on pushing the boundaries and the other afraid to rock the boat, one thing’s for certain—their story would make one heck of a country song.


ANGIE’S REVIEW: Though this is the second book in the series, it can be read as a standalone.
Having said that, I really wish that I had read the first book as I don’t like to miss out on anything, but such is life, right?
I adored Hannah. Though she was painfully shy, she did her absolute best to overcome it. I loved how she wanted to work with children in any capacity so that she could make a difference in the world.
Deacon is one of my favorite male characters to date. Definitely in my top 20. He is sweet, a great father, and most importantly – a good friend to Hannah. Even with wanting to take their relationship further, he wasn’t overly pushing her into anything she didn’t want.
This is my first Rachel Harris book, but it won’t be my last. Her writing is smooth and she keeps you turning page after page wanting to know what happens and cheering on Hannah and Deacon. Her characters are more like friends than characters in a book.
ANGIE’S RATING: ****
DISCLAIMER: I requested a review copy of this book in order to participate in the blog tour by Tasty Book Tours. All opinions are my own.

New York Times bestselling author Rachel Harris writes humorous love stories about sassy girls-next-door and the hot guys that make them swoon. Vibrant settings, witty banter, and strong relationships are a staple in each of her books…and kissing. Lots of kissing. 


An admitted bookaholic and homeschool mom, she gets through each day by laughing at herself, hugging her kids, and watching way too much Food Network with her husband. She writes young adult, new adult, and adult romances, and LOVES talking with readers!

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Excerpt
The lingerie had been an impulse purchase—an impulse that had then led to an epiphany. Blush and jade. Satin and lace. Toile and mousseline…the colors, styles, and textures had been overwhelming. Trying them on, well, that had been extraordinary. The silk had felt decadent against Hannah’s skin, almost forbidden, and so unlike anything she’d ever worn before. Living an ocean away from everyone and everything she’d ever known, nursing a broken heart, it had been exactly what Hannah had needed.
Initially, she’d fled to Paris to get over Deacon, but more than that, she’d been fleeing the woman she’d sadly become. A woman who sat on the sidelines of her own life. For far too long, she’d allowed other people to dictate her happiness, and that realization, coupled with naughty lingerie and a few glasses of spectacular wine in an adorable bistro, had birthed her new mission. Hannah liked to call it, Operation Joie de Vivre…or Operation Find My Happy.
Her mission was threefold.
First up, no more hiding. Hannah’s bad habit of shying away from experiences simply because they made her nervous was over. Now, she would be bold. Adventurous. Outgoing. Anything from forming friendships to speaking her mind was fair game, with the number one rule being no more skulking in the shadows. Paris had awoken a desire to start truly living—and to stop putting her dreams on hold.
Secondly, Hannah wanted to find her place in the world. The tour with Blue was a perfect opportunity to explore a new option. So far, her contract lasted only through the national leg, with the idea that they’d extend her stay once she’d gotten past a short trial period—a test she intended to pass with flying colors. At twenty-four, she was excited to settle into a career where she could make a real difference, and while she hoped to find that in this position, she was open to just about anything. Band nanny, au pair, or a preschool teacher, they all sounded wonderful. As long as she could make a real contribution, it would fit the bill.
Lastly, but perhaps most importantly—
She was putting her heart on the line, once and for all.
Lingerie may’ve kicked off her mission, but it was the hope of Deacon that gave it life. Denying her feelings all these years hadn’t changed them. Neither had leaving the country. The only thing that would, or so she’d decided, was pushing the boundaries of their friendship. Flirting (an activity with which Hannah had zero experience) and letting Deacon know she was ready for love were all part and parcel of her new plan to get her best friend to finally see her as a woman.

New Release, Excerpt, Giveaway: From Duke Till Dawn (The London Underground #1) – Eva Leigh

From Duke Till Dawn
The London Underground #1
By: Eva Leigh
Releasing May 30, 2017
Avon Books

Blurb
Eva Leigh launches a seductive new series that sizzles with the dark secrets of London’s underworld…
Years ago, the Duke of Greyland gave his heart—and a princely sum of money—to a charming, destitute widow with unparalleled beauty. But after one passionate night, she slipped from his bed and vanished without a trace. And just when he’s given up hope of ever seeing her again, Greyland finds her managing a gaming hell. He’s desperate to have her… until he discovers everything about his long-lost lover was a lie.
In truth, Cassandra Blake grew up on the streets, picking pockets to survive. Greyland was a mark—to be fleeced and forgotten—but her feelings for the duke became all too real. Once he learns of her deception, however, the heat in his eyes turns to ice. When her business partner absconds with the gaming hell proceeds—leaving unsavory investors out for blood—Cassandra must beg the man she betrayed for help.
Greyland wants compensation, too, and he’ll assist her under one condition: she doesn’t leave his sight until her debts are paid. But it’s not long before the real Cassandra—the smart, streetwise criminal—is stealing his heart all over again.

Link to Follow Tour: http://tastybooktours.com/tours-master/2017/3/22/duke-dawn-eva-leigh
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31931749-from-duke-till-dawn

Goodreads Series Link https://www.goodreads.com/series/191044-the-london-underground

Buy Links: AMAZON | B & N | GOOGLE | ITUNES | KOBO
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Duke-Till-Dawn-London-Underground/dp/0062499416
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/from-duke-till-dawn-eva-leigh/1124564517?ean=9780062499417
Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Eva_Leigh_
From_Duke_Till_Dawn?id=1pj4DAAAQBAJ

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/from-duke-till-dawn/id1151009573?mt=11
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/from-duke-till-dawn

Author Info
Eva Leigh is the pen name of a RITA® Award-nominated romance author who writes novels chock-full of smart women and sexy men. She enjoys baking, Tweeting about boots, and listening to music from the ’80s. Eva and her husband live in Southern California.
Author Links: WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS
Website: http://evaleighauthor.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Eva-Leigh/1095832423767341
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/EvaLeighAuthor
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8886093.Eva_Leigh

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Excerpt
London, England
1817

A woman laughed, and Alexander Lewis, Duke of Greyland felt the sound like a gunshot to his chest.
It was a very pleasant laugh, low and musical rather than shrill and forced, yet it sounded like The Lost Queen’s laugh. Alex could not resist the urge to glance over his shoulder as he left the Eagle chophouse. He’d fancifully taken to calling her The Lost Queen, though she was most assuredly a mortal woman. Had she somehow appeared on a busy London street at dusk? The last time he’d seen her had been two years ago, in the spa town of Cheltenham, in his bed, asleep and naked.
The owner of the laugh turned out to be a completely different woman—brunette rather than blonde, petite and round rather than lithe and willowy. She caught Alex staring and raised her eyebrows. He bowed gravely in response, then continued toward the curb.
Night came on in indigo waves, but the shops spilled golden light in radiant patches onto the street.
The hardworking citizens of London continued to toil as the upper echelons began their evening revelries. Crowds thronged the sidewalk, while wagons, carriages, and people on horseback crammed the streets. A handful of pedestrians recognized Alex and politely curtsied or tipped their hats, murmuring, “Good evening, Your Grace.” Though he was in no mood for politeness, responsibility and virtue were his constant companions—had been his whole life—and so rather than snapping, “Go to the devil, damn you!” he merely nodded in greeting.
He’d done his duty. He’d been seen in public, rather than disappearing into the cavernous chambers of his Mayfair mansion, where he could lick his wounds in peace.
The trouble with being a duke was that he always had to do his duty. “You are the pinnacle of British Society,” his father had often said to him. “The world looks to you for guidance. So you must lead by example. Be their True North.”
This evening, before dining, Alex had taken a very conspicuous turn up and down Bond Street, making certain that he was seen by many consequential—and loose-lipped— figures in the ton. Word would soon spread that the Duke of Greyland was not holed up, sulking in seclusion. His honor as one of Society’s bulwarks would not be felled by something as insignificant as his failed marriage suit to Lady Emmeline Birks. The Dukes of Greyland had stood strong against Roundheads, Jacobites, and countless other threats against Britain. One girl barely out of the schoolroom could hardly damage Alex’s ducal armor.
But that armor had been dented by The Lost Queen. Far deeper than he would have expected.
Standing on the curb, he signaled for his carriage, which pulled out of the mews. He tugged on his spotless gloves as he waited and adjusted the brim of his black beaver hat to make certain it sat properly on his head. “Always maintain a faultless appearance,” his father had reminded him again and again. “The slightest bit of disorder in your dress can lead to rampant speculation about the stability of your affairs. This, we cannot tolerate. The nation demands nothing less than perfection.”
Alex’s father had been dead for ten years, but that didn’t keep the serious, sober man’s voice from his mind. It was part of him now—his role as one of the most powerful men in England and the responsibilities that role carried with it. Not once did he ever let frivolities distract him from his duties.
Except for one time . . .
Forcing the thought from his mind, Alex looked impatiently for his carriage. Just as the vehicle pulled up, however, two men appeared and grabbed his arms on each side.
Alex stiffened—he did not care for being touched without giving someone express permission to do so. People on the street also did not normally seize each other. Was it a robbery? A kidnapping attempt? His hands curled instinctively into fists, ready to give his accosters a beating.
“What’s this?” one of the younger men exclaimed with mock horror. “Have I grabbed hold of a thundercloud?”
“Don’t know about you,” the other man said drily, “but I seem to have attached myself to an enormous bar of iron. How else to explain its inflexibility?” He tried to shake Alex, to little avail. When he wanted to be, Alex was absolutely immovable.
Alex’s fingers loosened. He tugged his arms free and growled, “That’s enough, you donkeys.”
Thomas Powell, the Earl of Langdon and heir to the Duke of Northfield, grinned, a flash of white in his slightly unshaven face. “Come now, Greyland,” he chided. A hint of an Irish accent made his voice musical, evidence of Langdon’s early years spent in his mother’s native County Kerry. “Is that any way to speak to your oldest and dearest friends?”
“I’ll let you know when they get here.” Alex scowled at Langdon, then at Christopher Ellingsworth, who only smirked in response.
Alex took a step toward his carriage, but Ellingsworth deftly moved to block his path, displaying the speed and skill that had served him well when he’d fought on the Peninsula.
“Where are you running off to with such indecorous haste?” Ellingsworth pressed. He held up a finger. “Ah, never tell me. You’re running back to the shelter of your Mayfair cave, to growl and brood like some big black bear in a cravat.”
“You know nothing,” Alex returned, despite the fact that Ellingsworth had outlined his exact plans for the rest of the night.
Ellingsworth looked at Langdon with exaggerated pity. “Poor chap. The young Lady Emmeline has utterly shattered his heart.”
Alex shouldered past Ellingsworth, only to have Langdon move to stand in his way.
“My heart is not shattered because of Lady Emmeline,” Alex snapped. At least that much was the truth.
“But why shouldn’t your heart be strewn in pieces throughout Regent’s Park?” Langdon mused. “You courted the young lady for several months, and you told Ellingsworth and I that you’d already received her father’s grateful acceptance of a marriage offer.”
“She never agreed to anything,” Alex said flatly.
“A modest girl, that Lady Emmeline.” Ellingsworth nodded with approval. “She wouldn’t have said yes right away. They never do. Nothing to be alarmed by.”
“How would you know?” Alex’s voice was edged. Ellingsworth had little experience with offering for ladies’ hands, committed as he was to a life of reckless pleasure.
Langdon added, “It’d be unseemly for an earl’s daughter to eagerly snap up a marriage proposal the moment it was offered.”
Alex scowled. Despite the fact that, at thirty-eight, he was sixteen years her senior, they would suit well as a wedded couple. Lady Emmeline had been perfectly trained in the responsibilities of an aristocratic wife. Though he wished she stated her own opinion rather than constantly agreeing with him, there were worse faults one could find in a prospective bride.
They could marry at Christmas, eight months from now. It would be a small but elegant wedding, followed by a lavish breakfast and a wedding journey in the Lake District. And then, if everything went well, in less than a year, Alex and Lady Emmeline might welcome their first child—hopefully a boy so the line would be secure. It would’ve been precisely the sort of match Alex’s
father would have approved, considering Lady Emmeline’s faultless background and her spotless reputation.
“Look at him now, mooning away,” Langdon sighed, smugly thwarting Alex’s attempts to step around him. “He looks poorly.”
It would be bad form to knock his friend to the ground. Damn the social niceties that dictated a man couldn’t punch another without repercussions.
“Perhaps he should be bled,” Ellingsworth suggested with his habitual smirk. It was his constant companion since returning from the War, as if he refused to take anything seriously.
“I am perfectly well.” Alex looked back and forth between these two rogues whom he called friends. “No need to call for a quack.”
“He’s already had an amputation,” Langdon noted, raising a brow as he always did. “One prospective bride—gone.” He made a sawing motion at his ankle, as if cutting the shackles of matrimony.
Alex glanced down at his own lower leg, as if he could see the invisible links that might have bound him to Lady Emmeline. He’d come so close to becoming a married man and sharing the rest of his life with one woman—the faultless duke his father had bred him to be. It hardly mattered that Alex felt nothing for the gel other than a sense of distant respect. She would have made a fine duchess.
“We were at White’s yesterday when we heard about what happened,” Langdon said with disapproval. “Didn’t even tell your two closest friends that Lady Emmeline had run off with a cavalry officer. No, we had to hear it from Lord Ruthven, of all people.”

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A seductive new series that sizzles with 
the dark secrets of
London’s underworld…

FROM DUKE TILL DAWN
The London Underground #1
Eva Leigh
Releasing May 30, 2017
Avon Books

Eva Leigh launches a seductive new series that sizzles with the dark secrets of London’s underworld…

Years ago, the Duke of Greyland gave his heart—and a princely sum of money—to a charming, destitute widow with unparalleled beauty. But after one passionate night, she slipped from his bed and vanished without a trace. And just when he’s given up hope of ever seeing her again, Greyland finds her managing a gaming hell. He’s
desperate to have her… until he discovers everything about his long-lost lover was a lie.

In truth,
Cassandra Blake grew up on the streets, picking pockets to survive. Greyland
was a mark—to be fleeced and forgotten—but her feelings for the duke became all
too real. Once he learns of her deception, however, the heat in his eyes turns
to ice. When her business partner absconds with the gaming hell
proceeds—leaving unsavory investors out for blood—Cassandra must beg the man
she betrayed for help.
Greyland
wants compensation, too, and he’ll assist her under one condition: she doesn’t leave his sight until her debts are paid. But it’s not long before the real Cassandra—the smart, streetwise criminal—is stealing his heart all over again.  

Eva Leigh is the pen name of a RITA® Award-nominated romance author who writes novels chock-full of smart women and sexy men. She enjoys baking, Tweeting about boots, and listening to music from the ’80s. Eva and her husband live in Southern California.



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New Release, Review, Excerpt, & Giveaway:T he Girl with the Make-Believe Husband (Rokesbys #2) – Julia Quinn



When
the truth comes out, Edward may have a few 

surprises of his own for the new Mrs. Rokesby.

THE GIRL WITH THE MAKE-BELIEVE HUSBAND

Rokesbys #2
Julia Quinn
Releasing May 30, 2017
Avon Books

While
you were sleeping…
With her brother Thomas injured on the battlefront in the Colonies, orphaned Cecilia Harcourt has two unbearable choices: move in with a maiden aunt or marry a scheming cousin. Instead, she chooses option three and travels across the Atlantic, determined to nurse her brother back to health. But after a week of searching, she finds not her brother but his best friend, the handsome officer Edward Rokesby. He’s unconscious and in desperate need of her care, and Cecilia vows that she will save this soldier’s life, even if staying by his side means telling one little lie…

I told everyone I was your wife…
When Edward comes to, he’s more than a little confused. The blow to his head knocked out six months of his memory, but surely he would recall getting married. He knows who Cecilia Harcourt is—even if he does not recall her face—and with everyone calling her his wife, he decides it must be true, even though he’d always assumed he’d marry his neighbor back in England.

If only it were true…

Cecilia risks her entire future by giving herself—completely—to the man she loves. But when the truth comes out, Edward may have a few surprises of his own for the new Mrs. Rokesby.

ANGIE’S REVIEW: I have always wanted to read the Bridgerton series by Ms. Quinn, and was excited for the chance to review it for Tasty Tours.

Historical romance is always going to be my go-to genre of choice. And with Quinn’s amazing writing style that sucks you in and has you looking up, realizing that you’ve spent the better part of the day engrossed in her books and haven’t bothered to eat or do anything else…

You get the picture.

I love Cecelia’s spunk. Rather than hang around the estate that she grew up on, she chose to leave instead of hanging around a rather repulsive cousin who has announced his desire to marry our quick-on-her-feet heroine. She is very resourceful and a good match for Edward.

Even if their face-to-face encounters had started off with lies upon lies.

See, Cecilia wants nothing more than to find her beloved brother, one of Edward’s closest friends, but keeps getting doors slammed in her face…

Until she tells them she’s Edward’s wife.

While this book was a bit slow to start, I was still engrossed and that really says something. I absolutely enjoyed this book, as well as Cecilia and Edward. They are a perfect match for each other.

ANGIE’S RATING: ****
DISCLAIMER: I requested a review copy of this book so that I could participate in the Tasty Tours Book Review Tour. All opinions are my own.

Julia Quinn is the New York Times bestselling author of twenty-five novels for Avon Books, and one of only sixteen authors ever to be inducted in the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family.



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Excerpt
Manhattan Island
July 1779

His head hurt.
Correction, his head really hurt.
It was hard to tell, though, just what sort of pain it was. He might have been shot through the head with a musket ball. That seemed plausible, given his current location in New York (or was it Connecticut?) and his current occupation as a captain in His Majesty’s army.
There was a war going on, in case one hadn’t noticed.
But this particular pounding—the one that felt more like someone was bashing his skull with a cannon (not a cannonball, mind you, but an actual cannon) seemed to indicate that he had been attacked with a blunter instrument than a bullet.
An anvil, perhaps. Dropped from a second-story window.
But if one cared to look on the bright side, a pain such as this did seem to indicate that he wasn’t dead, which was also a plausible fate, given all the same facts that had led him to believe he might have been shot.
That war he’d mentioned… people did die.
With alarming regularity.
So he wasn’t dead. That was good. But he also wasn’t sure where he was, precisely. The obvious next step would be to open his eyes, but his eyelids were translucent enough for him to realize that it was the middle of the day, and while he did like to look on the metaphorical bright side, he was fairly certain that the literal one would prove blinding.
So he kept his eyes closed.
But he listened.
He wasn’t alone. He couldn’t make out any actual conversation, but a low buzz of words and activity filtered through the air. People were moving about, setting objects on tables, maybe pulling a chair across the floor.
Someone was moaning in pain.
Most of the voices were male, but there was at least one lady nearby. She was close enough that he could hear her breathing. She made little noises as she went about her business, which he soon realized included tucking blankets around him and touching his forehead with the back of her hand.
He liked these little noises, the tiny little mmms and sighs she probably had no idea she was making. And she smelled nice, a bit like lemons, a bit like soap.
And a bit like hard work.
He knew that smell. He’d worn it himself, albeit usually only briefly until it turned into a full-fledged stink.
On her, though, it was more than pleasant. Perhaps a little earthy. And he wondered who she was, to be tending to him so diligently.
“How is he today?”
Edward held himself still. This male voice was new, and he wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to know he was awake yet.
Although he wasn’t sure why he felt this hesitancy.
“The same,” came the woman’s reply.
“I am concerned. If he doesn’t wake up soon…”
“I know,” the woman said. There was a touch of irritation in her voice, which Edward found curious.
“Have you been able to get him to take broth?”
“Just a few spoonfuls. I was afraid he would choke if I attempted any more than that.”
The man made a vague noise of approval. “Remind me how long he has been like this?”
“A week, sir. Four days before I arrived, and three since.”
A week. Edward thought about this. A week meant it must be… March? April?
No, maybe it was only February. And this was probably New York, not Connecticut.
But that still didn’t explain why his head hurt so bloody much. Clearly he’d been in some sort of an accident. Or had he been attacked?
“There has been no change at all?” the man asked, even though the lady had just said as much.
But she must have had far more patience than Edward, because she replied in a quiet, clear voice, “No, sir. None.”
The man made a noise that wasn’t quite a grunt. Edward found it impossible to interpret.
“Er…” The woman cleared her throat. “Have you any news of my brother?”
Her brother? Who was her brother?
“I am afraid not, Mrs. Rokesby.”
Mrs. Rokesby?
“It has been nearly two months,” she said quietly.
Mrs. Rokesby? Edward really wanted them to get back to that point. There was only one Rokesby in North America as far as he knew, and that was him. So if she was Mrs. Rokesby…
“I think,” the male voice said, “that your energies would be better spent tending to your husband.”
Husband?
“I assure you,” she said, and there was that touch of irritation again, “that I have been caring for him most faithfully.”
Husband? They were calling him her husband? Was he married? He couldn’t be married. How could he be married and not remember it?
Who was this woman?
Edward’s heart began to pound. What the devil was happening to him?
“Did he just make a noise?” the man asked.
“I… I don’t think so.”
She moved then, quickly. Hands touched him, his cheek, then his chest, and even through her obvious concern, there was something soothing in her motions, something undeniably right.
“Edward?” she asked, taking his hand. She stroked it several times, her fingers brushing lightly over his skin. “Can you hear me?”
He ought to respond. She was worried. What kind of gentleman did not act to relieve a lady’s distress?
“I fear he may be lost to us,” the man said, with far less gentleness than Edward thought appropriate.
“He still breathes,” the woman said in a steely voice.
The man said nothing, but his expression must have been one of pity, because she said it again, more loudly this time.
“He still breathes.”
“Mrs. Rokesby…”
Edward felt her hand tighten around his. Then she placed her other on top, her fingers resting lightly on his knuckles. It was the smallest sort of embrace, but Edward felt it down to his soul.
“He still breathes, Colonel,” she said with quiet resolve. “And while he does, I will be here. I may not be able to help Thomas, but—”
Thomas. Thomas Harcourt. That was the connection. This must be his sister. Cecilia. He knew her well.
Or not. He’d never actually met the lady, he felt like he knew her. She wrote to her brother with a diligence that was unmatched in the regiment. Thomas received twice as much mail as Edward, and Edward had four siblings to Thomas’s one.
Cecilia Harcourt. What on earth was she doing in North America? She was supposed to be in Derbyshire, in that little town Thomas had been so eager to leave. The one with the hot springs. Matlock. No, Matlock Bath.
Edward had never been, but he thought it sounded charming. Not the way Thomas described it, of course; he liked the bustle of city life and couldn’t wait to take a commission and depart his village. But Cecilia was different. In her letters, the small Derbyshire town came alive, and Edward almost felt that he would recognize her neighbors if he ever went to visit.
She was witty. Lord, she was witty. Thomas used to laugh so much at her missives that Edward finally made him read them out loud.
Then one day, when Thomas was penning his response, Edward interrupted so many times that Thomas finally shoved out his chair and held forth his quill.
“You write to her,” he’d said.
So he did.
Not on his own, of course. Edward could never have written to her directly. It would have been the worst sort of impropriety, and he would not have insulted her in such a manner. But he took to scribbling a few lines at the end of Thomas’s letters, and whenever she replied, she had a few lines for him.
Thomas carried a miniature of her, and even though he said it was several years old, Edward had found himself staring at it, studying the small portrait of the young woman, wondering if her hair really was that remarkable golden color, or if she really did smile that way, lips closed and mysterious.
Somehow he thought not. She did not strike him as a woman with secrets. Her smile would be sunny and free. Edward had even thought he’d like to meet her once this godforsaken war was over. He’d never said anything to Thomas, though.
That would have been strange.
Now Cecilia was here. In the colonies. Which made absolutely no sense, but then again, what did? Edward’s head was injured, and Thomas seemed to be missing, and…
Edward thought hard.
…and he seemed to have married Cecilia Harcourt.
He opened his eyes and tried to focus on the green-eyed woman peering down at him.
“Cecilia?”

Release Day, Excerpt, & Giveaway: Airman to the Rescue (Heroes of Fortune Valley #2) – Heatherly Bell



She’s off-limits…and perfect for him!



AIRMAN TO THE RESCUE

Heroes of Fortune Valley #2

Heatherly Bell

Releasing June 1, 2017

Harlequin Superromance



She’s off-limits…and perfect for him!

It was supposed to be easy. Sarah Mcallister was going to flip her late father’s house and head back to Colorado for a fresh start. But when her shady contractor gets arrested, taking most of her budget with him, she’s at risk of losing everything. Enter Matt Conner…sexy pilot, single dad, Sarah’s brother’s best friend…and far too good with his hands for her peace of mind.

Moving into Sarah’s spare bedroom is just asking for trouble, but Matt’s trying to make amends with his troubled teen son, and a key step is finding a decent place to crash for as long as it takes. And the woman needs his help.
Unfortunately, the closer the house gets to reno-perfect, the more he knows Sarah is meant to stay in Fortune Valley…with him.







Heatherly Bell writes books, drinks copious amounts of coffee, craves cupcakes and occasionally wears real pants. She lives in northern California with her family.





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Excerpt:
Sarah stumbled into the now dark living room, and found Matt lying on the couch, Shackles curled up at his feet. Through the sliver of moonlight shining through the window, she could make out that he had his shirt off, a pillow over his face. As if she’d given him a headache.
Wait until she got going. “Matt.”
Under his pillow, she heard him groan.
“What’s going on here?” She stood hands on hips and then decided that looked too accusatory for seduction, so she relaxed her arms at her sides.
“Go to sleep, Sarah.”
“No.”
He lifted the pillow from his face, one eye open. “I don’t want to argue with you.”
“I don’t want to argue, either. I just want you to tell me what happened tonight.”
“Guess if you don’t know, I must not have done it right.”
“You did everything right.” Her voice softened. Now that she faced this—thing—between them her mouth was parched and dry. But she couldn’t lose her nerve now. “The only thing you did wrong was stop.”
“Wasn’t my choice.”
“But now it is.”
He didn’t move. “Go to sleep. Please.”
“Well, since you said please.”
“Seriously? That’s all it takes?”
“No. I lied. I’ll go to sleep, but not until you hear me out. I might be Stone’s sister, but I’m also a grown woman and I know what I want.”
“What do you want? Because I thought you wanted to fix this house and flip it. Sell it so you can get back to Colorado.”
Couldn’t a woman want more than one thing? “I want you, Matt. That’s what I want.”
“Do you? Be careful what you’re asking for. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“I know enough. I know you’re one of the good guys.”
He snorted. “Yeah.”
“Do you think I’m going to fall in love with you? Is that it? Because that’s not an issue. I don’t believe in love.”
At that he removed the pillow from his head. “You don’t believe in love.”
“Does that shock you? Why should it? I grew up as the child of a broken home and I’ve seen more divorces around me than I care to remember. You of all people should understand.”
“Me of all people?”
“You’re also from a broken home. And…you’re a single father.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love. And I think it’s pretty messed up that you don’t, Sarah.”
“Okay. What do you want? Is it me at all? Because a couple of hours ago you had me pretty well convinced, so if you’ve changed your mind you need to tell me now.”
There. She couldn’t believe she’d let all her thoughts spill out at last. Everything she’d intended to tell him for months had come pouring out of her lips, like the semidark of the room had given her added courage. In the ensuing quiet Sarah didn’t think he would answer her at all. Worse, in the dark of the room she couldn’t take a cue from his usually expressive eyes.
“I want you, Sarah.” He finally spoke, the sound of his voice so naked and raw that Sarah’s knees went boneless.

Release Day, Excerpt, & Giveaway: Lightstruck (Brewing Passions #2) – Liz Crowe


Brewer Ross has given up on love…until he meets a woman who turns his life—and brewery—upside down.

LIGHTSTRUCK
The Brewing Passion Series #2
Liz Crowe
Releasing May 30, 2017
Totally Bound

Brewer Ross has given up on love…until he meets a woman who turns his life—and brewery—upside down.

Ross Hoffman held the potential for a perfect life in his hands—a life with Evelyn, the only woman he’d ever allowed himself to love, their baby and…her husband, Austin Fitzgerald, who also happened to be his best friend. But the challenge of trying to make a threesome into something acceptable—let alone the thought of actually sharing Evelyn with anyone—forces him to bolt. Determined to put all thoughts of their relationship behind him, Ross jumps headfirst into a new brewery job in Colorado, and back into the sort of sexual decadence that he hopes will distract him from his misery.

When he agrees to assist Austin through a spate of brewery mishaps, he lays eyes on his true fate—in the form of the petite, mysterious and exotic Elisa Nagel. Hired as assistant brewer, Elisa is absolutely everything he believes he doesn’t want in a woman. But he’s drawn to her in ways he can’t explain, and he can’t help but fall hard, fast and deep, which places him square in the middle of her horrific, until now secret backstory.

Ross is determined that his love will conquer and overcome the horrors of Elisa’s past, allowing her to trust him with the only thing he desires—her heart.

Reader Advisory: This book contains a scene with attempted rape and violence, as well as a brief scene alluding to person being drugged and raped.


Now Available for Pre-Order

CONDITIONED
Brewing Passions Book Three


Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance: Worth the Risk,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”).

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.


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Excerpt (Rated R)
She’d parked in front of the building where Ross, apparently, had a set of rooms at the top of a single flight of wooden steps. She stared up them, contemplating how drastically she wanted her life to change, and the fact that if she walked up those steps, it most definitely would.
She went up fast, not giving herself a chance to turn and run away. But when she raised her fist to knock, she hesitated. The voice was screaming at her now, blocking out the sound of the rain. She put the bags down and slammed her hands over her ears, crouching for a few seconds, willing it silent. Finally, her mind cleared, and she stood. Taking a deep breath, she raised her fist and banged hard on the door. “Hoffman! Open up!”
By the time he finally did open the door, she was soaked all the way to the skin but she felt energized—reborn. Slick and wet and eager in ways that confused her. Even the line of stubborn between Ross’ eyes didn’t deter her. She smiled, held out her arms and yelled, “Can I come in? It’s a tad damp out here.”
He stood inside the door, arms crossed over his bare chest. She stared at his pecs, at the thick black hop vine tattoo that matched hers, at his visible ab muscles. “Eyes up here, please, ma’am,” he said. “I’m not a piece of meat, you know.”
She held up the bags of food. “Do you have a microwave?”
He nodded, but didn’t move, continuing to block her way in. She dropped her arms, letting the rain pelt her, sensing his gaze taking her in from her dripping hair to her wet shoes. “You are a crazy bitch,” he said, conversationally, as if she weren’t standing right there, getting pelted in the rain while he remained dry less than a foot from her. “I’m not positive I want any part of you.”
She blinked, then forced herself forward and into his arms, dropping the bags as she wrapped herself around him. “That’s okay. I want us enough to make up for your lack of enthusiasm.”
He yelped. “Shit, you’re—”
“Yes, wet to the skin. I know. We seem to be like this a lot, don’t we? Now, shut up and kiss me before I—oh”
He did just that, transporting her to what she’d come to think of as her only happy place—in his arms, with his mouth on hers, his tongue breeching her lips, forcing her to give in to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him drag her inside. He picked her up, soaking clothes and all, continuing to kiss her all the way to the bedroom at the back of the mini-apartment.
He was gentle and tender as he undressed her, kissing every inch of skin he revealed, teasing her at the back of her neck and along her bare shoulders with his lips and teeth. He turned her this way and that, taking her all in, running his long fingers down her torso, cupping her breasts, licking each of her nipples, giving extra care to the still deformed one all the while muttering to himself in German.
He seemed especially fascinated with her piercings. He kissed her nose, her eyebrow, sucked the tiny ball in her lip into his mouth for a few seconds, rolled his tongue against the metal she’d placed there.
The line of balls in her ear cartilage got special attention. Each one of them touched with his fingertip, and his tongue.
Elle stood, eyes closed, letting him do what he wanted and loving it, loving him, if she were honest with herself. He ran his hands down her hips, around to her ass, across the evil puckered skin where she’d been burned. He was on knees now, his lips pressed to her stomach, then lower as his hands slid down the outside of both legs. His touch tickled, taunted, made her breathe fast as she tried to relax.
With shaking hands, she untied the leather string holding his hair back and slid her fingers into its silky depths, grazing his scalp with her short fingernails. He looked up at her. His eyes were bright with emotion. “You all right?” he whispered. “This is okay?”
“It’s very much okay. Please…more?”

Review: Letters to the Midwife: Correspondence with Jennifer Worth, Author of Call the Midwife – Jennifer Worth

Synopsis: When the CALL THE MIDWIFE books became bestsellers, Jennifer Worth was inundated with correspondence. People felt moved to write to her because the books had touched them, and because they wanted to share memories of the world her books described, the East End of London in the late 1940s and early 1950s.

LETTERS TO THE MIDWIFE is a collection of the correspondence she received offering a fascinating glimpse into a long-lost world.

Along with readers’ responses and personal histories, it is filled with heartwarming gems such as letters and drawings sent by one of the nuns featured in Call the Midwife and a curious list of the things Jennifer would need to become a missionary. There are stories from other midwives, lorry drivers, even a seamstress, all with tales to tell.

Containing previously unpublished material describing her time spent in Paris, and some journal entries, this is also a portrait of Jennifer herself, complete with a moving introduction by her family about the Jennifer Worth they knew and loved.

ANGIE’S REVIEW: Letters to the Midwife is a collection of letters from fans of the much loved BBC show, Call the Midwife, to the beloved Jennifer Lee Worth. Only, they’re not really “fan letters” as much as they are pieces of Jennifer’s history, the backbone of her life’s work as a midwife/nurse. From people she worked with, babies whom she helped deliver, parents she’d helped, relatives of those who may have been mentioned…the list goes on.

Do you need to read this in order to enjoy the three memoirs she wrote based on her life as a midwife? No, you don’t. If you would like to know more about the era, whom she worked with, what it was like to be an expectant mother (and a midwife or nun!), then you’ll enjoy this trip down memory lane of people who really loved Jenny.

There are some bonus stories about Jenny’s time in Paris as an au pair that are interesting. There’s one “story” that was so familiar to me, as I’d seen it play out in the show…only, the whole premise around the family feast was quite different from story to show as those things usually are.

ANGIE’S RATING: ****

Review, Excerpt, & Giveaway: When a Lady Dares (Her Majesty’s Most Secret Service #2) – Tara Kingston

They must tear down their defenses and learn to trust their hearts.

WHEN A LADY DARES
Her Majesty’s Most Secret Service #2
Tara Kingston
Released May 15, 2017
Entangled Select Historical

Sophie Atherton knows a liar when she sees one. Perhaps because she’s so skilled at deception herself. Searching for clues to a string of mysterious deaths, the secret operative for the Crown has connived her way into a phony medium’s confidence. When a dashing archaeologist seeks out the charlatan’s services, Sophie suspects he’s after more than a long-lost heirloom. Their electric attraction storms her defenses, but loving the rakish scholar would threaten her investigation and the life she’s crafted.

Gavin Stanwyck is a man on a mission. Masquerading as a treasure hunter to trap the spiritualist, he’s drawn to the medium’s enigmatic assistant. As treacherous forces close in, passion awakens his hardened heart—he’ll protect Sophie at all costs, but he cannot give her his love. Uniting to survive a sinister plot, they must tear down their defenses and learn to trust their hearts.


ANGIE’S REVIEW: First and foremost, I really enjoyed that BOTH the hero and heroine were spies for the Crown. Too often it’s one or the other.

Sophie is strong, smart, and independent. She often relied on her own wits and could be considered quite obstinate.

Gavin had a good sense of humor and intelligent. I was rather annoyed with how stubborn he was about how he felt about Sophie, but overall I really liked him.

There isn’t a whole lot of dialogue, but the author makes up for it with a strong plot that kept me reading. I did feel that it got a bit dull in parts because there was just so much repetition. And actually, the fact that I kept reading even with all of the mystery and mayhem is a testament to the author as I usually don’t enjoy a lot of suspense!

I haven’t read the first book, which I’ll be remedying shortly, but I don’t get the feeling that I’ve missed *too much* by not doing so beforehand.

ANGIE’S RATING: ****

DISCLAIMER: I requested a digital copy of this book so that I could partake in the blog tour run by Tasty Book Tours. All opinions and thoughts are my own.

Award-winning and Amazon.com best-selling author Tara Kingston writes historical romance laced with intrigue, danger, and adventures of the heart. A Southern belle-out-of-water in a quaint Pennsylvania town, she lives with her real-life hero and a pair of deceptively innocent-looking cats in a cozy Victorian. A former librarian whose love of reading is evident in her popping-at-the-seams bookcases, she’s thankful for the invention of digital books, thereby eliminating the need for yet another set of shelves. When she’s not writing, reading, or burning dinner, Tara enjoys movie nights, cycling, hiking, DIY projects, and cheering on her favorite football team.
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Excerpt:
“The way I see it, you set forth a challenge. I am debating whether or not to accept it.”
“A challenge?” She frowned. “I don’t follow.”
He unfolded his arms and stalked to where she stood. Gently, his hands draped her shoulders. Strong, but without pressure. Without violence. “You said I would have to try harder for you to be convinced I am a scoundrel. What is that, if not a challenge?”
Words hovered on the tip of her tongue but failed to escape her lips. He shouldn’t be holding her, regardless of how warm his hands were against her body. He shouldn’t be so very near. She drank in subtle notes of sandalwood on his jaw and his throat. He shouldn’t be studying her with those perceptive eyes, a glint of sensual interest darkening his sapphire irises.
She drew in a breath, even as he held her closer still. If she’d detected any hint of danger, she would’ve brought him to the ground with a well-placed knee or a calculated swing of her weighted reticule against the pulse point behind his ear. But this man did not present that nature of a threat.
No, the danger in his touch was more subtle. More insidious. And ultimately, far more powerful. She could not betray the effect he had on her. She could not give him that weapon against her.
“I meant what I said.” A miracle, how steady she held her tone. “When I look at you, I do not see a cad. I see a man in need of answers. The only question is, what are the answers you truly seek?”
“And if I kissed you? Would you think me a rogue?”
The heat in his gaze kindled a spark deep within her, but she steeled herself against the sudden and powerful need. She could not let on how delicious his breath felt against her cheek, how good…how right…it felt to be in his arms.
“No.” She lifted her gaze to lock with his. “I would think you a man, with a man’s desires and needs. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“You are a temptation I could not have anticipated.” A tiny muscle in his jaw tensed. “And I…well, I am a bloody fool.”
His hands slid lower, settling on her leg-of-mutton sleeves, and he dipped his head. She might’ve imagined the sound, but his breath seemed a sigh. And then, his lips claimed hers in a kiss.
Oh, my, such a delicious caress. Shock rippled through Sophie’s veins, coupled with an instinctive alarm. Not fear. Far from it. Rather, this man’s touch should not feel so very tempting, so very tender. So maddeningly right.

Pre-order, Excerpt, & Giveaway: I Knew You Were Trouble (Oxford #4) – Lauren Layne

A feisty beauty must choose between winning back Mr. Right  
or giving in to Mr. Wrong.

I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE
Oxford Series #4
Lauren Layne
Releasing June 13, 2017
Loveswept

New York City’s hottest bachelors are stirring up trouble in this fun, flirty Oxford Novel, as a love triangle forces a feisty beauty to choose between winning back Mr. Right or giving in to Mr. Wrong.

Taylor Carr has it all—a sleek job in advertising, a stunning Manhattan apartment, and the perfect man to share it with: Bradley Calloway. Even after Bradley dumps her for a co-worker on move-in day, Taylor isn’t worried. She’ll get her man eventually. In the meantime, she needs a new roommate. Enter Nick Ballantine, career bartender, freelance writer—and longtime pain in Taylor’s ass. Sexy in a permanent five-o’clock-shadow kind of way, Nick knows how to push Taylor’s buttons, as if he could see right through to the real her.

Nick’s always trying to fix people, and nobody could use a good fixing more than Taylor. Sure, she’s gorgeous, with mesmerizing silver eyes, but it’s her vulnerability that kills him. Now that they’re shacking up together, the chemistry is out of control. Soon they’re putting every part of their two-bedroom apartment to good use. Then Taylor’s ex comes crawling back to her, and Nick figures she’ll jump at the chance to go back to her old life—unless he fights for the best thing that ever happened to him.



PRE-ORDER TODAY!
Bradley froze when he saw her, and she was pretty sure she saw the urge to turn and run flicker across his face.
Again she felt a stab of disappointment. In him. And in herself for apparently having misread him. She’d thought he was better than this.
Bradley’s eyes moved between her and Nick, and though he didn’t look all that surprised at seeing them bickering, his gaze grew hard as he saw Nick’s hand on Taylor’s face.
Nick, naturally, took his sweet time removing it, and she resisted the urge to kick his shin.
“Morning, Bradley,” Taylor said, pleased that her voice sounded calm and friendly. As well it should. She’d had plenty of practice over the better part of a year pretending that she and Bradley were nothing more than colleagues.
Other than a few close friends who knew they were dating, they’d done a mostly decent job of hiding their romantic relationship from coworkers. Better than she and Nick had done hiding their antagonistic one.
“Hey, Taylor. Nick,” Bradley said.
He entered the room and reached for a coffee mug, turning his attention toward the other man. “Didn’t realize you’d taken on another assignment. What for?”
“Not sure,” Nick said, checking his watch. “Have a meeting with Cassidy in a few to find out.”
“Here’s hoping it’s an offsite gig that takes you far, far away. Maybe he needs someone to cover Siberian winters,” Taylor said to Nick, even as she watched Bradley out of the corner of her eye.
“Don’t need to travel to find severe winter. It doesn’t get any chillier than right here,” Nick retorted, waving his hand over her head in a storm cloud gesture.
She shoved his hand aside, her attention still on Bradley, who was determinedly avoiding her gaze.
Coward.
It was going to be darn hard to get him to see reason when he wouldn’t even make eye contact.
Nick, ever too perceptive for his own good, noticed the tension and gave a quick look between her and Bradley, his gaze turning speculative.
She shot him a warning look that clearly said, Dont.
He shot an answering smile that clearly said, Watch me.
“Bradley, don’t suppose you’re in the market for a roommate?” Nick asked, his voice deceptively casual.
Bradley’s head snapped up, and finally, finally his blue gaze collided with Taylor’s. Dammit. Why did he have to be so beautiful? He was like a mischievous angel, all twinkling blue eyes, dimples, a sexy cleft in his chin, dark blond wavy hair . . .
“What?” he asked Nick distractedly, still looking at Taylor.
“Taylor here wants to share her original crown molding with someone.”
Bradley winced, and Taylor felt a little surge of gratitude toward Nick. He couldn’t have known it, but it was the perfect jab. She and Bradley were both into prewar architecture—had eaten up the broker’s description of all the building’s original elements.
Taylor should be sharing that crown molding with Bradley. And he damn well knew it.
His eyes met hers in silent misery—an apology that she wasn’t quite ready to accept. Heck, she wasn’t even ready to acknowledge it, because she had no intention of being dumped. Not by him, not by any man.
Taylor ignored the guilt written all over Bradley’s face as she held his gaze. “Yes, it seems I unexpectedly have a free bedroom and more rent than I can afford. If either of you knows anyone looking for a roommate . . .”
Bradley’s handsome face twisted regretfully, and he set his coffee aside, taking a step toward her, apparently forgetting—or not caring—that Nick was still in the room.
“Taylor. Damn it. I told you—”
“Actually, I do,” Nick said, interrupting.
Taylor forced her gaze away from Bradley’s pleading face toward Nick’s smug one. “You know someone who needs a roommate?”
“Yup.” He crossed his arms and watched her.
She made an impatient gesture with her hand. “Who? It can’t be one of your ex-girlfriends—I don’t want to inadvertently hear any gross details about you. And not one of your frat-boy guy friends—my living room isn’t cut out for Call of Duty.”
“Yeah, because that’s all I do all day.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, for real, who is it?”
His grin was slow, sly, and the very definition of trouble. “Me.”



Lauren Layne is the New York Times  bestselling author of over a dozen romantic comedies.

A former e-commerce and web marketing manager from Seattle, Lauren relocated to New York City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career.

She lives in midtown Manhattan with her high-school sweetheart, where she writes smart romantic comedies with just enough sexy-times to make your mother blush. In LL’s ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books. 

*No Purchase Necessary*

Pre-order, Excerpt, & Giveaway: Black Tie Optional (Wild Wedding #1) – Ann Marie Walker


The Proposal meets Two Weeks Notice in Ann Marie Walker’s 
new standalone romantic comedy, Black Tie Optional!


BLACK TIE OPTIONAL

Wild Wedding #1
Ann Marie Walker
Releasing May 30, 2017
St. Martin’s Press

The Proposalmeets Two
Weeks Notice
in Ann Marie Walker’s new standalone romantic comedy, Black Tie Optional, which New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Probst calls, “a fun, sexy romp that will keep every reader entertained!”

Everything about Coleman Grant III oozes power and sex. And not the perfunctory kind either, but the sheet clawing, heart stopping, gasping for air after you’ve screamed so loud you can’t breathe kind. From his dark wavy hair that stands in an artfully rumpled mess, to the blue eyes that sear your skin, to his full, sensual lips – on the surface he’s pure perfection.


Too bad he’s an asshole. An arrogant, uptight corporate raider hell bent on destroying the environment one species at a time.

Everything about Olivia Ramsey screams hippie humanitarian. From her blond hair tied in a sloppy bun, to her faded jeans with the Bonnaroo patch sewn on the thigh, to her combat boots still splattered with mud from the previous day’s site visit.
So it makes perfect sense that they would get married. In Vegas. Stone-cold sober. Cole needs a wife. Olivia needs to save an endangered species. But what starts as a marriage of convenience soon turns into a battle of wills and sexual tension.
Love is a game, and Olivia and Cole are ready to win.

Chapter One

Just like clockwork, Olivia thought. She watched the gas-guzzling SUV roll to a stop alongside the curb, its hazard lights blinking as if some sort of justification for bringing a full lane of Chicago’s morning rush hour to a grinding halt.
Every day the sleek black car stopped in exactly the same location so the almighty Coleman Grant III could get the same extra hot, double shot Americano from the same big-chain coffee shop, bypassing the smaller, neighborhood establishments trying to stay afloat as corporate America runs them into the ground.
A mountain of a man in mirrored aviator shades jumped out of the front seat to open the rear door, giving Olivia a clear view of the luxury vehicle’s interior. Two leather captain’s
chairs with fold down keyboards and armrest tablet holders sat facing several television monitors mounted above what appeared to be a full-service bar.  Forget running a business, it looked as though Coleman Grant ran NASA from his back seat. Honestly, what could possibly be so important that it couldn’t keep until he got to the office? The commute from his Gold Coast penthouse to his Loop headquarters was less than two miles.
Hadn’t the guy ever heard of just chilling out with some tunes?
Olivia approached the car just as Grant climbed out of the back seat. He paused to button the jacket of his navy blue Tom Ford and for a moment she forgot he was an arrogant, self-righteous prick hell bent on destroying the environment one species at a time. For a moment, she allowed herself to take in the physical perfection standing in front of her. From his dark wavy hair that stood in an artfully rumpled mess, to the blue eyes that seared her skin, to his full, sensual lips – everything about Coleman Grant oozed power and sex. And not the perfunctory kind either, but the sheet clawing, heart-stopping, gasping-for-air-after-you’ve-screamed-so-loud-you-can’t-breathe kind. But then his eyes narrowed and his lips curved into a knowing smirk and Olivia remembered exactly who she was dealing with.
“Mr. Grant,” she began.
The bodyguard moved to step between them but Grant waved him off. “Ms. Ramsey, what a surprise,” he said, not at all surprised since this was the eighty-third day in a row she had approached him. Not that it mattered. She had no plans to stop these sidewalk sessions until he either agreed to her demands or filed for a restraining order.
He made his way toward the coffee shop with Olivia tight on his heels. “You know, most people simply make an appointment with my assistant.” 
“I’ve tried that, Mr. Grant. But for some reason your schedule is always full.”
“Pity,” he said, his voice void of all emotion. When he reached the glass doors, he yanked one open. “Please, after you.” 
Bastard. Normally he charged in like he owned the place, never mind if she or anyone else got a face full of door. How dare he try to throw her off her game by acting chivalrous. As if the man had a courteous bone in his body. Olivia stood frozen in place, debating how best to handle this latest twist in their balance of power. As she did, Cole’s gaze raked her from head to toe, from her blond hair tied in a sloppy bun, to her faded jeans with the Bonaroo patch sewn on the thigh, to her combat boots splattered with mud from the previous day’s site visit.
She hated to admit it, but the scrutiny of his gaze was unnerving. And it wasn’t just the laser like focus. There was something about his expression, as if he wasn’t looking at her fully clothed in a shop brimming with customers, but rather undressing her with his eyes. She shifted in place, debating if she should call him out for his piggish behavior or simply stick to the topic at hand.
“Suit yourself,” he finally said, stepping through the doors and leaving her alone on the sidewalk. 
Not so fast. She took a deep breath and joined him at the service counter. 
“Mr. Grant, as I’m sure you’re aware, the northern long-eared bat was recently granted protection as a threatened species under the Endangered Species Act.”
“Rather difficult to forget given your daily reminders. Although I must say, Ms. Ramsey, you disappoint me. No visual aids today?” He turned away from the counter with his extra hot, double shot Americano to find Olivia standing behind him with an 8 x 10 glossy in her hand.  “Ah, it seems I spoke too soon.”
“This particular species of bat has been the most impacted by white-nose syndrome and the resulting decline in their numbers is what—”
“Those really are the most vile creatures,” Grant interrupted. “Have you ever considered taking up the cause of a more appealing animal, say a manatee?”
“There aren’t any manatees in Lake Michigan.”
“Precisely.” He smirked. “Perhaps you could move? I’m sure you could find some poor, unsuspecting Floridians worthy of your attention.” He raised his left hand and for the first time Olivia realized he was holding a second cup. He thrust it in her direction and without thinking she took it, dropping the photograph as she did. “You seem like the type who would order your latte with a hundred and one specifications, but hopefully skinny vanilla will do.”
Olivia blinked. He bought her a coffee? What the actual fuck? Did he really think he could charm his way out of the hot seat? She had spent her entire adult life and most of her teens speaking on behalf of those who couldn’t. It was going to take a lot more than a few random acts of fabricated kindness to get her off his back.
She was about to tell him not only where he could stick his latte but how in her twenty-eight years on earth she’d never ordered a “skinny” anything, when he turned toward the door. She bent to scoop up the photo then hurried after him, fast talking her case all the way to the curb where his bodyguard stood waiting with the door already open. As usual, Grant didn’t say a word, much less defend his stance. Instead he simply flashed a grin that would have made her drop her latte, not to mention her panties, if she didn’t find him to be lacking in not only morals and ethics but quite possibly a soul.
He gave her a quick nod before ducking into the car.  “Until tomorrow, Ms. Ramsey.”
With that, the door slammed shut and the SUV pulled into traffic to the sound of protesting horns.
“Asshole,” Olivia muttered under her breath. “Gorgeous asshole, but still.” She turned on her heel and started down the street with her head held high. Coleman Grant III might have been trying to make a mockery of her attempts to persuade him, but their standoff was far from over. A slow grin curved her lips as an idea began to take shape. She’d just pulled her smartphone out to send herself a reminder when it began to vibrate in her hand.
“Are you bringing your swimsuit?” her best friend asked before Olivia had even managed a hello.
“To the desert? You’re joking, right?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“Cassie, I know you’ve had your head buried in cookbooks for the past few years but surely you can remember how a vacation works…lounge chairs, suntan oil, blended drinks with tiny umbrellas that make you say ridiculously inappropriate things to cabana boys.”
“I have never said anything inappropriate to a cabana boy. And that’s sexist by the way.”
“Cabana person?” Olivia laughed at her own joke. “I’m playing. But you’ve got to lighten up a bit. We’re headed to Vegas, Sin City, what happens there stays there and all that.”
“You sound like a tourism ad.”
“All I’m saying is you better be ready to party Hangover style.”
Cassie snorted. “Yeah, cause that worked out so well for them.”
“I promise I won’t leave you stranded on a hotel roof.”
“This is a bad idea. I should be staying here and looking for a job.”
“You’re the sister of the groom. You can’t very well ditch out on the bachelor/bachelorette festivities. Besides, if I can break my ‘Harass Coleman Grant’ streak for a few days, then you can certainly give the stand mixer a rest.”
“How’s that going by the way?”
Olivia groaned. “New day, same story. ”
“Maybe it’s time to—”
“Move on? No way.” While it was true that working freelance allowed Olivia a certain amount of latitude, she prided herself on never giving up. There was no way Coleman Grant was going to blemish her perfect record. “I’ll just have to double my efforts.”
Cassie laughed. “I’m actually starting to feel sorry for the guy.”
“Don’t be fooled by the looks. He might be hotter than Ryan Reynolds and Ian Somerhalder combined, but underneath that perfect exterior beats the heart of an ogre.”
“Sounds like someone has wet panties.”
“Why Cassandra Miller, is that smutty talk I hear coming out of your mouth? There may be hope for you yet.”
“Don’t change the subject. You’ve got the hots for this guy.”
“Hardly. He’s eye candy all right, but he’s also a spoiled, self-centered asshole who think it’s his way or the highway. Not this time though.” Olivia nodded to herself. One way or another he was going to give in to her demands. Coleman Grant III had finally met his match. He just didn’t know it yet.

Ann Marie Walker& writes steamy books about sexy boys. She’s a fan of fancy cocktails, anything chocolate, and 80s rom-coms. Her super power is connecting any situation to an episode of Friends and she thinks all coffee cups should be the size of a bowl.
If it’s December she can be found watching Love Actually but the rest of the year you can find her at AnnMarieWalker.com where she would be happy to talk to you about alpha males, lemon drop martinis or supermodel David Gandy. Ann Marie attended the University of Notre Dame and currently lives in Chicago.


New Release, Excerpt, Giveaway, & Review: Highland Faith (Wild Thistle Trilogy #2) – Madelyn Hill

Lady Faith MacAlister wishes for adventure, be careful what you wish for . . . 
HIGHLAND FAITH
The Wild Thistle Trilogy #2
Madelyn Hill
Releasing May 17, 2017
Soul Mate Publishing

Huntress Lady Faith MacAlister seeks adventure. Her father’s dying pledge tethers her to Wild Thistle Keep, thwarting her desire to explore the world beyond the palisade. Solace is found while hunting and providing sustenance for her clan.
When snatched from the safety of MacAlister lands by a rogue bent on securing a ransom, she finds the adventure of her life.

Disgraced Captain Graeme Ross travels the high seas in search of bounty to sell in order to secure family lands seized by the Crown. He longs to regain his honor in his father’s eyes and continually risks his life buying and selling goods. Lacking enough funds, Graeme and his crew follow Lady Faith MacAlister as she hunts.

Out of need and desire, he kidnaps her. The lady captivates him for the moment he laid eyes upon her. Bold and spirited, she fights him. When he negotiates a ransom, deception tears the burgeoning romance apart.

Now, Faith and Graeme seek to settle those differences hindering their union, despite the stretch of sea and land—and angry Highlanders standing between them.

ANGIE’S REVIEW: Ever since reading Jude Deveraux’s historical romance series set in the Scottish highlands years ago, I gravitate towards books that are set around the same time period and have strong female lead characters.

Two books in and I can say without any doubt that Ms. Hill’s Wild Thistle Trilogy will always be in my top three series to recommend when it comes to this genre. Especially with heroines named Hope, Faith, and Honor.

When I first read about Faith in Highland Hope, I scribbled a note in my journal to be on the lookout for her book, that’s how much I adored her!

Faith is a spitfire. She doesn’t like being tied down to one place and longs for adventure outside of her family’s keep. But a bedside promise to her dying father keeps her from venturing too far.

Graeme seeks to redeem himself in his father’s eyes and reclaim his family’s lands that were seized by the Crown. I wasn’t a strong fan of his at first, but he grew on me as the book progressed.

The plot and subplot of this book are an intricate braid. Hill captivated me from the very first page and I found myself with my eyes barely able to stay open long into the night while everyone else in my house was sleeping.

I find it hard to write reviews because I always want to discuss ALL OF THE THINGS, but that would be spoiling the book for others, so vague I have to be. Just know that Ms. Hill’s characters are well developed, there is never a dull moment, and while you could read this without reading Highland Hope first…why would you want to?!

ANGIE’S RATING: ****


Madelyn Hill has always loved the written word. From the time she could read and all through her school years, she’d sneak books into her textbooks during school. And she devoured books daily. At the age of 10 she proclaimed she wanted to be a writer. After being a “closet” writer for several years, she sent her manuscripts to the universe and is now published with Soul Mate Publishing. And she couldn’t be happier!

A resident of Western New York, she moved from one Rochester to another Rochester to be with the love of her life. They now have 3 children and keep busy cooking, going to the movies, and of course reading!

Excerpt:
’Twas her sister’s fault.
Hope had married Aidan MacKerry, leading the MacAlister Clan together, and now they were acting like lovesick cows. Aye, they’d recently had another bairn and ’twas why they were smiling like amadans. But Faith MacAlister had enough of the cooing and kissing.
She had to leave the Wild Thistle Keep or go mad.
Hunting was the only option.
The size of the MacAlister Clan dictated hunting trips each fortnight to keep the larder full. Faith grabbed her quiver and bow, left word with the guards at the palisade to inform the lairds Aidan and Hope her direction, and left to find sustenance and peace.
And now, three days later she continued stalking the elusive stag. She kenned her sister would be close to sending a group of men to look for her in a day or so. Luckily she’d managed an agreement with her sister whom was also her laird. An agreement between sisters proved hard to negotiate, but she’d won in the end. And she hunted without escort as long as she never left without telling the guards her direction.
A sun filled day, just cool enough not to need too much clothing that may hinder her movement, but warm enough she didn’t need to start a fire to warm herself. She stretched in the britches she’d stolen from one of the stable hands. Aye, she’d tried the tartan her sister Hope loved to wear, but found it too revealing as she moved and climbed to find her prey. And a gown, the devil take them, ’twould make it nigh impossible to hunt and secure meat for the clan.
She moved quietly through the woods. Each footfall, purposeful, silently brought her closer to her elusive prey.
Aye, there he stood. In the morning mist that hovered just above the low foliage, a proud, beautiful stag who’d avoided her arrow for too long. Huge, with several points on his rack and a cocksure stance stating, I’m king of the forest. She hated to take down the magnificent animal. But he’d provide for her clan and her duty dictated securing meat for those who depended on her.
She drew her bow, stretching the sinew, straining her arm muscles as she prepared to let the arrow fly. The feather fletching grazed her cheek as she held her breath waiting for the perfect moment to release. She’d traveled far for this chance, stalked her prey as her father had taught her so many years ago with her so wee she could barely hold a bow, much less draw and aim. And today, her size may well again thwart her hunting. ’Twould be problematic once the massive stag was felled. She’d have to dress him in the field and lug the meat back with her. No matter, she’d manage as always.
Two more steps forward. Stared down the length of the arrow past the head, ready to release.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” a man said.

Release Day, Excerpt, & Giveaway: Trying It All (Naked Men #4) – Christi Barth

Riley’s brain tells him she’s a ticking time bomb—
but his body doesn’t want to play by the rules.

TRYING IT ALL
Naked Men #4
Christi Barth
Releasing May 16, 2017
Loveswept

Order. Attention to detail. Never leaving anything to chance. These are the qualitiesvthat make Riley Ness such a terrific federal agent . . . and a pain in the ass to everyone else. The only time Riley lets loose is when he’s hanging out with his closest pals. So when he’s thrown together with gorgeous, flighty Summer Sheridan, Riley’s brain tells him she’s a ticking time bomb—but his body doesn’t want to play by the rules.

Riley has to be the most irritating man Summer has ever met. The brooding hunk thinks he needs to teach her a few lessons about real life, while she’d rather show him how to enjoy it. But her BFF’s all but engaged to Riley’s best friend, and besides, their intense physical chemistry is all too real. Summer just needs Riley to try to meet her halfway and take a chance with the one thing that matters: his heart.


USA Today bestselling author Christi Barth earned a Masters degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes award-winning contemporary romance, including the Naked Men and Aisle Bound series.

Christi can always be found either whipping up gourmet meals (for fun, honest!) or with her nose in a book. She lives in Maryland with the best husband in the world.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt
“Living forever’s only fun if you truly live.”
That jab stung. Because it was the same riff the guys threw at him, over and over again. “I live. I just follow the rules. Obey the speed limit. Turn off my phone before the plane starts to taxi.”
Summer tossed her cloud of hair back. Gave him a knowing look. No, a knowing smirk. “Oh, I get it now.”
“What?”
“You’re not uptight. You’re chicken.”
The woman had crossed a line. He’d gone through wilderness training and survival training. He’d climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. Become a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. He’d pushed himself to physical and mental limits most men wouldn’t be able to attain. Being sensible? In no fucking way was it comparable to being scared.
Riley’s long strides ate up the distance between them. Furious, he spat out, “You want me to try something risky?”
“Yes. Just once. But I don’t think you’ve got the balls,” she taunted.
Riley grabbed her face with both hands. Her lips parted in surprise. And he swooped right onto them.
Her lips were soft. So soft and pliable it almost deterred him. But then . . . they were so soft and pliable that he couldn’t possibly stop. Instead of holding her still, his hands curved to cup the back of her head, his thumbs caressing those impossibly high cheekbones that gave her the look of someone made to walk a runway.
Riley nipped at her wide bottom lip. Soothed it with a stroke of his tongue that savored the sweet, lingering tang of the orange cream cheese icing on the cinnamon rolls from brunch. He wanted to keep going. To nip and bite and lick down her neck, over the side of the breasts she flashed at him all day. To gobble down her sweetness and spice just like he had those rolls.
Her moan refocused him. This wasn’t just following through on a dare anymore. This was a real kiss. A real moment of pure, physical pleasure. So he dropped his hands to the small of her back and hauled Summer tight against him.
Thanks to her ridiculous—and ridiculously sexy—high heels, everything lined up right. The notch between her thighs ground right against his dick behind the suddenly too-tight fly of his shorts. Breasts plumped against his chest. Breasts he was pretty sure he could fit entirely into his mouth . . . since he might have pictured them a time or ten since meeting her in the spring. Tight nipples insistently poked at his pecs.
The kiss kept going. Ry slipped his tongue in as she let out a kittenish purr. God, it was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. The soft, tiny mewl fired through his blood. Fired him up. His tongue tangled with hers. Like they were two swords, fencing for the win. Because there would damn sure be a winner. The way they were grappling at each other? It wasn’t just fun. It was about proving something.
Her mouth—made for kissing. And more. His tongue slid deep. Felt her wetness. And Riley couldn’t help imagining how all that warm wetness would feel locked around another part of his body. Summer’s hands came up to fist in his shirt. Shit—for a second, he worried she’d push him away. But then those fists pulled him even closer. One smooth calf twined around his. He wanted to walk her back ten steps to the nearest tree and just sink into her.
Which was crazy. Riley didn’t even like this woman. He’d kissed her to save his pride. To defend his honor. To get her off his back. And now he wanted to put Summer on hers, spread her thighs, and—
That was it. Riley let go. Let go of the sweet ass he didn’t even remember moving down to squeeze. Let go of those luscious lips. Yanked his head back and deliberately stepped out of the semicircle of her curved leg.
“You and I both know that was the riskiest damn thing I could possibly do today.” Riley looked at her still unfocused eyes, her kiss-swollen lips. Proof that she’d enjoyed it every bit as much as he had. “Oh, and you also know now that I’ve got the balls. I’ve got the whole package.”

Book Sale & Excerpt: Someone Like You (Oxford #3) – Lauren Layne

A man who’s living a lie—until his dream woman takes away the pain.
SOMEONE LIKE YOU
Oxford #3
Lauren Layne
Loveswept

Lauren Layne’s bestselling Oxford Series continues with the poignant, heartwarming story of New York’s most eligible bachelor, Lincoln Mathis, a man who’s living a lie—until his dream woman takes away the pain.
 
Lincoln Mathis doesn’t hide his reputation as Manhattan’s ultimate playboy. In fact, he cultivates it. But behind every flirtatious smile, each provocative quip, there’s a secret that Lincoln’s hiding from even his closest friends—a tragedy from his past that holds his heart quietly captive. Lincoln knows what he wants: someone like Daisy Sinclair, the sassy, off-limits bridesmaid he can’t take his eyes off at his best friend’s wedding. He also knows that she’s everything he can never have.
 
After a devastating divorce, Daisy doesn’t need anyone to warn her off the charming best man at her sister’s wedding. One look at the breathtakingly hot Lincoln Mathis and she knows that he’s exactly the type of man she should avoid. But when Daisy stumbles upon Lincoln’s secret, she realizes there’s more to the charming playboy than meets the eye. And suddenly Daisy and Lincoln find their lives helplessly entwined in a journey that will either heal their damaged souls . . . or destroy them forever.


Praise for Someone Like You

“Fun and flirty, sassy and steamy, with a deep emotional pull that will keep you turning the pages.”—Kelly Jamieson, author of Top Shelf

“An unsung hero with a story that touched my heart. Emotional and gripping. A top favorite of 2016 for me.”New York Times bestselling author Melanie Moreland

$0.99 for a Limited Time

Lauren Layne is the USA Today bestselling author of more than a dozen romantic comedies. She lives in New York City with her husband (who was her high school sweetheart–cute, right?!) and plus-sized Pomeranian.

In 2011, she ditched her corporate career in Seattle to pursue a full-time writing career in Manhattan, and never looked back.

In her ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books.

For a list of all her works, please be sure to check out her official website!


Meet ALL the Men of Oxford

Excerpt:

“Lincoln, you know that I love you like a brother, but if you make a move on my sister, I will end you.”
Lincoln Mathis took a slow sip of his cocktail as he studied the fierce bride-to-be. “I hope Cassidy knows how lucky he is. You’re so delicate and gentle.”
Emma Sinclair, soon to be Emma Cassidy as of this time tomorrow, lifted one elegantly manicured fingernail and flicked his chest. “Promise, Lincoln. No hitting on Daisy.”
“I don’t hit on women.”
Emma gave him a look.
He held up his free hand in surrender. “I don’t. They come to me. I’m like the stamen.”
Emma stared at him with wide, slightly accusatory brown eyes. “The what?”
“The stamen. The pollen-producing part of a flower, Sinclair. Don’t you watch the Discovery Channel? Animal Planet? I just saw a fascinating documentary on bees. See, when the bees land on a flower, their little feet pick up pollen from the stamen— “
“Mathis. Are you talking to my fiancée about semen?” Alex Cassidy asked, coming up beside Emma and setting a possessive hand on her waist.
“Stamen,” Lincoln clarified. “Not semen. Honestly, is sex all you people think about?”
“Yes.” This came from Riley Compton, a brunette bombshell whose status as New York’s foremost “sexpert” meant she had zero qualms about discussing sex at her best friend’s rehearsal dinner. “And you know, actually, the stamen is rather sexual. I saw that bee documentary too, because these are the sort of things you do when you’re nursing a never-satisfied baby, by the way, and the stamen is a flower’s male reproductive organ. Sexy, right?”
Emma inserted the arm not holding her champagne flute between the two of them. “Guys, it’s my wedding weekend. Can we not talk about flower boners?”
“Fair enough, Bride,” Lincoln said. “What do you want to talk about? Cassidy’s boner?”
Alex Cassidy choked into his champagne.
“There will be no boner discussion,” Emma said. “Lincoln and I were just having a chat about how Lincoln will be maintaining his distance from my sister.”
“Speaking of flowers, where is Daisy?” Riley asked, scanning the room.
“Running late. Knowing my sister, her dress had a slight crease from the suitcase, and she won’t make an appearance until every wrinkle’s banished, every hair’s in place, and there’s not a speck of lint anywhere.”
“Gosh, however will I keep my hands to myself?” Lincoln muttered.
“Lincoln, I swear to God—”
“He’s messing with you, Em,” Cassidy said, carefully tugging his fiancée away from Lincoln. “Don’t let him press your buttons. And Lincoln, man, what is with that drink?”
Lincoln glanced down. “It’s called a Jasmine. Gin, lemon, some Campari—”
“It’s pink,” Cassidy observed.
“Right? You want one?”
Cassidy rolled his eyes. “I’ll stick with wine, thanks. Ah shit, there’s my grandma waving us over. Emma, you up for talk about the state of your uterus?”
Emma groaned. “Oh no. I thought she’d agreed to wait until after the wedding to talk about my eggs.”
“I’ll go with you,” Riley said. “As the only one in our little group of friends who’s ever pushed a human skull out my—”
“Okay, I’m going to expand my taboo list,” Emma said. “No talking about boners, flowers, or vaginas.”
“Fine,” Riley said, as she entwined her arm in Emma’s and started leading her toward Cassidy’s grandma. “But if Grams starts talking about fertility, just follow my lead . . . ”
Lincoln smiled as he watched his friends walk away. He could follow, certainly, help run interference, but new mom Riley was a far better choice for this particular bridal-party duty.
Besides, as best man, Lincoln had enough to worry about. The ring, reconfirming transportation to the church tomorrow, the speech that he was going to slay tomorrow, the—
Lincoln’s best man to-do list scattered as his eyes landed on a woman standing in the doorway to the private event room. He did a double take. When had Emma found time to change? Generally speaking, he didn’t consider himself particularly in tune with his friends’ clothes. Especially the women, because, well . . . he didn’t really give a crap. But he was pretty damn sure Emma had been wearing a white dress just ten seconds ago.
Now she was wearing a short yellow dress, with fussy, flowy sleeves, high-necked and a bit demure—
No, not demure, Lincoln amended as she turned. Hot. The dress was backless, showing a smooth expanse of lightly tanned skin from the small of her back all the way up to long dark blond hair.
. . . Blond hair.
Emma had shoulder-length brown hair. A wardrobe swap, he might be able to buy, but the hair?
You idiot.
He was looking at none other than Daisy Sinclair, the forbidden fruit, in the flesh.
He’d forgotten that Daisy wasn’t just Emma’s sister—she was Emma’s identical twin.
Other than the fact that she was, apparently, not to be hit on, Lincoln didn’t know much about her.
Well, he supposed he now knew that she dyed her hair blond.
Or maybe Emma dyed hers brown?
Whatever. Girl stuff he didn’t care about one way or the other.
And yet he didn’t look away, captivated somehow. He racked his brain for everything he’d heard about Daisy Sinclair.
He knew that she and Emma had grown up in North Carolina. But Emma left for New York City shortly after college, and Daisy had stayed. He thought he remembered talk of a recent divorce, although he didn’t recall the details.
Didn’t need to, really. Lincoln knew better than anyone that not all relationships had happy endings.
Lincoln watched as Daisy hesitated just inside the doorway, unnoticed yet by the rest of the bridal party and out-of-town guests.
Making people comfortable was a particular skill of his. Normally he’d be over there in a heartbeat with a glass of wine and some of his best banter until her shoulders relaxed and he’d coaxed a smile from her pretty face.
But he wasn’t entirely convinced Emma wouldn’t make good on her castration threats, so instead Lincoln merely studied Daisy. The woman was beautiful. No surprise there, since Emma was gorgeous. Yet, though their features were identical, they were attractive in entirely different ways.
Emma was all polished confidence, stunning in an untouchable sort of way.
Daisy was softer somehow. Gentler. She seemed . . . touchable.
Lincoln’s cocktail froze on its way to his mouth as the forbidden rocked him back on his heels. Daisy Sinclair was not for him to touch for reasons that had nothing to do with Emma’s threats.
As though sensing a man’s brooding thoughts on her, Daisy turned slightly, her eyes locking on his. Eyes that he’d known would be dark brown like Emma’s, and yet eye contact with Emma had never felt like this.
Lincoln felt something akin to panic, because for a heart-stopping moment, it felt like Daisy Sinclair was seeing him. Not seeing the Lincoln he wanted everyone to see.
The real him.
He gave himself a little mental shake. Get it together, Mathis. The woman doesn’t even know you.
None of them did.
Not really.
He saw the moment of answering shock in her own gaze, sensed that for a split second, she considered turning and running. From him, from the party, all of it.
Then he saw something else. Something familiar, because he’d done it a thousand times himself. She squared her shoulders, and he watched as a mask slid into place.
He knew even before she approached that Daisy was exactly like him—good at being around people only because she chose to be. Knew that perhaps once it had been second nature, and now it was nothing but a deliberate attempt to make sure everyone thought she was okay.
Daisy began making her way toward him, and he tensed for reasons he couldn’t identify before ordering himself to chill out.
It was just his friend’s sister. The maid of honor to his best man.
She stopped in front of him, and he caught just the faintest whiff of her perfume, a surprisingly elegant scent for someone named Daisy, before she extended her hand.
“You must be Lincoln Mathis, The Manwhore of Whom I Should Beware?”
Her voice was a surprise. It had the same low huskiness as her sister’s, but years in New York had all but erased the Southern from Emma’s whiskey-raspy voice. Daisy’s drawl was very much intact—a mint julep on a hot day.
He grinned and took her smaller hand in his. “Which would make you Daisy Sinclair, Delicate Flower to Whom I’m Not to Speak.”
She grinned. “Nailed it.”

New Release, Excerpt, Giveaway, & Review: The Magnate’s Marriage Merger (The McNeill Magnates #2) – Joanne Rock

The
matchmaker meets her match…in one very persistent tycoon!

THE MAGNATE’S MARRIAGE MERGER
The McNeill Magnates #2
Joanne Rock
Releasing May 9th, 2017
Harlequin Desire



The matchmaker meets her match…in one very persistent tycoon! 

Secretive matchmaker to the rich and famous, Lydia Whitney prefers to stay behind the scenes. But after one mistake, rich resort developer Ian McNeill is hot on her trail, and he’s more attractive—and persistent—than ever before.
Ian can’t believe it when he figures out who’s messing with his family: a woman who has deceived—and seduced—him before. What’s her agenda? And why can’t he resist her? He’ll get the answers to all his questions, if Lydia agrees to his convenient marriage proposal. But once she’s in his arms again, will he let her go?
Don’t miss ANY of The McNeill Magnates

ANGIE’S REVIEW: Though I am not a huge fan of spicy romance books, I make an exception for Joanne’s books. I love how you get to know more about characters from previous books in the series as you make your way through one of her well written series. Ms. Rock takes you along with her as she describes different places, making you feel like you are actually there with the characters of her books.

Ian is a strong male lead who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it; even if that means forcing Lydia into marrying him. That part I didn’t quite like, but I kept my dislike of that in the back of my mind as I got to know him more.

Poor Lydia was the victim of a charade by a meddling grandfather. While the meddling parents/grandparents trope can get old at times, Ms. Rock never makes you want to roll your eyes out of your head when it comes to this.

I can’t wait to see what else Ms. Rock has in store for this great series!

ANGIE’S RATING: ****
DISCLAIMER: I requested a review copy of this book in order to participate in the blog tour by Tasty Reads. All opinions are my own.



Four-time RITA nominee Joanne Rock has never met a romance sub-genre she didn’t like. The author of over seventy books enjoys writing a wide range of stories, most recently focusing on sexy contemporaries and small town family sagas. An optimist by nature and perpetual seeker of silver linings, Joanne finds romance fits her life outlook perfectly–love is worth fighting for. A frequent speaker at regional and national writing conferences she enjoys giving back to the writing community that nurtured and inspired her early career. She has a Masters degree in Literature from the University of Louisville but credits her fiction writing skills to her intensive study with friend and fellow author Catherine Mann. When she’s not writing, Joanne enjoys travel, especially to see her favorite sports teams play with her former sports editor husband and three athletic-minded sons.

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Excerpt
She was a woman of habit and that would serve him well now. He hoped. He remembered how much she had enjoyed swimming first thing in the morning when they were working together in the islands of Tahiti. He’d accused her of being a mermaid with her daily need to return to the sea, but even when he’d been bleary-eyed from working late the night before, he never missed a chance to swim with her. For safety purposes, he’d told her, and not just because he enjoyed the occasional chance to slide a hand beneath her bikini top or wind the wet rope of her hair around his hand and angle her sea-salty lips for his kiss.
When the elevator sounded its dull chime, he slowly looked up. The doors opened and Lydia strode into view. His gaze fell on her long, shapely legs, the hem of her black mesh tunic revealing a hint of thigh.
“Ian?” Her voice tugged his attention higher, pulling his focus to her green eyes and creamy skin devoid of makeup.
With her hair scraped back into a ponytail, she looked every inch the part of his earthy, warmhearted lover from last summer. He had to remember that she hadn’t been the woman he thought, that he’d been wrong about her, or he might have swept her up into his arms and ridden the elevator back up to her hotel room to remind her how good they were together in at least one respect.
Sex. Raw, sensual, mind-blowing sex.
His pulse ramped up at the steamy memories, so much so that he had to shut down those thoughts and focus on the present or his plan would be doomed before he even started.
“Hope you don’t mind if I join you.” Ian tucked his phone back into the pocket of the cargo shorts he’d slid on over his swim trunks.
She halted in front of him abruptly. Then, eyes sliding to the desk attendant, she stepped closer. Probably she did it to minimize the chance of being overheard.
Ian liked the opportunity to breathe in the scent of her—the lavender fragrance of the detergent she washed her clothes in and a subtle perfume more complex than that.
“What on earth are you doing here?” She glanced over her shoulder. “You realize most of the consultants working on the Foxfire are staying in this hotel? What will they say if someone sees us together at this hour?”
“They’ll think we had a whole lot more fun last night than they did.”
Last night, he’d paced the floor of his penthouse suite for far too long, thinking through every aspect of a contract marriage and what details he should include in the paperwork.
In the end, she would sign. But she wasn’t going to like him forcing her hand, and that bothered him more than it should have.
“And that doesn’t concern you? I happen to enjoy a hard-earned reputation as a professional.” Her clipped words and the high color in her cheeks told him he’d gotten under her skin in record time.
“If you don’t want anyone to see us together, we might as well hit the beach. Take refuge in the water.” His hand itched to touch her. To rest on the small of her back and steer her out the door, across the street and onto the soft sand. But he had to be careful not to push or she could dig her heels in about his suggestion and delay the whole thing.
Now that he’d made up his mind and seen the benefits of a union between the two of them, he couldn’t think of one damn reason why he should delay.
After narrowing her green eyes at him for an instant, she pivoted on her wedge sandals and strode toward the exit.
He caught up to her in two long steps, holding the door wide for her before as they headed out onto Ocean Drive, which was strangely quiet in the predawn dark. There were more joggers on the beach than bathers; a few runners kicked up sand as they pounded past them.
“It’ll be quieter down here.” He pointed out a stretch of the shore where no beach loungers had been set up yet, a spot free from any hotel guests.
In fact, he’d claimed the location for them earlier when he’d ordered a cabana and sunrise breakfast. Lydia apparently didn’t notice his preparations, however, instead appearing too absorbed in her frustrated march toward the water, her feet churning through the sand at breakneck pace.
The horizon was starting to smudge from inky black to purple as she reached the shoreline and kicked off her shoes. Then she yanked the black mesh cover-up off and over her head. Mesmerized by her silhouette as his eyes adjusted to the light, Ian watched as she ran into the surf and made a shallow dive under an oncoming wave… She was a woman of habit and that would serve him well now. He hoped. He remembered how much she had enjoyed swimming first thing in the morning when they were working together in the islands of Tahiti. He’d accused her of being a mermaid with her daily need to return to the sea, but even when he’d been bleary-eyed from working late the night before, he never missed a chance to swim with her. For safety purposes, he’d told her, and not just because he enjoyed the occasional chance to slide a hand beneath her bikini top or wind the wet rope of her hair around his hand and angle her sea-salty lips for his kiss.

Sale, Excerpt, & Giveaway: Pull Me Close (Panic Series #1) – Sidney Halston

Get PULL ME CLOSE for $0.99 for a Limited Time!

PULL ME CLOSE
Panic #1
Sidney Halston
Loveswept

Welcome to Panic, a sultry Miami nightclub where bodies and hearts move to a beat that doesn’t stop at sunrise—the setting for an emotionally charged series from the bestselling author of the Worth the Fight novels.

When Katherine Wilson passes out in the arms of the hottest man she’s ever seen, it’s not because of the lights, the pulsating music, or the crowded dance floor. It’s because she can’t enjoy a night out like a normal person, not with her debilitating anxieties. These panic attacks are going to destroy her life unless she takes control—or gets a helping hand. So after the club’s bad-boy owner personally escorts her home, Katherine feels something urgent and primal awaken inside of her.

Nick Moreno doesn’t need a headache like Katherine. A drug bust has put his father behind bars and forced Nick to take over the daily business of his family’s South Beach nightclub. His head tells him to walk away—but his body has other ideas. Katherine’s vulnerability, her grace and courage, compel him to reach out. And when they kiss, Nick is overcome by desire: to pull her close, and promise that his embrace will always be the safest place on earth.

$0.99 Cents – Limited Time Offer

Pre-Order the next Panic Series Romance
MAKE ME STAY
releasing June 27, 2017
USA Today bestselling author, Sidney Halston lives her life with one simple rule: “Just Do It”–Nike. And that’s exactly
what she did.

After working hard as an attorney, Sidney picked up a pen for the first time at thirty years old to begin her dream of writing. Having never written anything other than very exciting legal briefs, she found an outlet for her imaginative, romantic side and wrote Seeing Red. That first pen stroke sealed the deal, and she fell in love with writing. Sidney lives in South Florida with her husband and children. She loves her family above all else, and reading follows a close second. When she’s not writing, you can find her reading and reading and reading. She’s a reader first and a writer second. When she’s not writing or reading, her life is complete and utter chaos, trying to balance family life with work and writing (and reading). But she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Excerpt 1:

My heart melts at the scene around me. Four months ago I couldn’t have dreamed this, and now I’m living it. I love these people. Really love them. My heart is so full right now it feels as if it’s going to burst.
I’m alone in the booth with Nico, who is sitting with a cigar in one hand and a tumbler of amber liquid in the other, looking so damn sexy and dangerous.
“You drunk, baby?” he asks, indicating the flute with a nod of his chin.
I put the flute on the table and slide closer to him. He puts his cigar and drink down and wraps an arm around my waist.
“Drunk enough to want to say something to you, but not drunk enough that it won’t count.”
“What do you want to say to me, corazón?” He tucks some stray hair behind my ear and his thumb strokes my cheek.
“I’ve decided I’m going to let myself fall in love with you,” I say.
His smile fades. He brings his other hand to my cheek, those emeralds eyes looking intently at me.
“Then you need to catch up, baby.”
“What? Are you drunk?”
“Drunk enough that I want to make love to you on this table right now, but not enough to actually try it.”
I laugh and throw myself on him.
One hand holds me tightly against him, while the other one grabs his phone. “One second,” he says as he ferociously types something into his phone. Jeez, so not the right time to be texting.
“Come on,” he says at last, and helps me up. He pushes the table back a little so that we have more space. I’m not exactly sure what is going on, but I don’t question it. Suddenly the fast-paced dance music stops mid-song and the DJ comes on the speakers.
“A special request,” the DJ says. The strobe lights stop and the overall lighting dims, and then a familiar song that does not at all belong in a modern dance club starts playing. People look confused for a moment, as do I until I recognize the song: “Just Breathe” by Pearl Jam.
“Just breathe,” he tells me, because I’ve stopped breathing.

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