Title: British Banger Author: Jennifer Woodhull Publication date: TBA Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance Camden Takeovers are my business. Six months in Rhode Island would be more than enough time to wrap up my latest deal and I’d get to spend some time with…
Tag: romance novel
Do you love Hallmark Channel Original Movies? Then keep on reading, because I have a book from the writer of these awesome, and warm romance shows, Teri Wilson for you today! Love At The Shore is a lighthearted comedic romance with a lot of warmth…
A strong-willed intelligent woman meets an equally strong-willed, successful alpha-male. No wonder the sparks are flying from the moment those two meet in “He’s a Brute” by Chloe Liese. If you like it hot, and steamy, but also love a well-crafted suspenseful story, then this newly released novel, might be perfect for you!
You can read more, especially about the effects that Nairne has on Zed right from the start in the excerpt below!
He’s a Brute is available on Amazon now!
Once you are finished reading, though, you should enter the giveaway at the end of the post for your chance to win a 25 Dollar Amazon gift card! But hurry, the giveaway is only open for 5 days! So enter now!
Title: He’s a Brute
Author: Chloe Liese
(Tough Love, #1)
Publication date: May 6th, 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
Every good scientist knows the second law of thermodynamics: the universe’s disorder, entropy, is always increasing. Professionally and personally speaking, Nairne’s familiar with the principle. After a streak of costly fame, now she’s set on saving the world, microscope in hand, and there’s no time for romance. Problem is, when a rude, despicably sexy Adonis shows up to run their board meeting, chemistry and its ensuing chaos become more than a formula—now they’re a burning hot reality.
Mafia prince. Professional footballer. Bad boy demeanor and a reputation for being as talented between the sheets as he is on the pitch. Rumors are the man’s an absolute brute. And he turns out to be just as demanding, controlling and vicious in person as he is on paper. The Law of Attraction’s proven true, as Nairne finds herself accepting Zed’s proposal: rough, wild stress release, more orgasms than she can count, and most importantly—no falling in love.
Agreement in place. End date secured.
No attachments. No forever.
What could possibly go wrong?
Get it on Amazon now!
I took a few careful steps toward her because something about her made me uneasy. From the other end of the table, she’d been lovely. A pretty face with a pouty frown. By the time I was one third the way down the conference table toward her, she was devastating. I stopped because she was affecting me plenty from twelve feet away. Long and glossy dark auburn hair. Ivory skin. Fine bones, a smattering of freckles, and a warm glow to her cheeks. Her eyes were the real showstopper, though. They were an unfairly high chroma green, like blades of grass
darkened after rain. They glittered with defiance and not a little contempt for me as she spoke.
“Understood, Mr. Salvatore. I look forward to showing you how misplaced your concern is. Until then, I’ll remember not to take such stingy optimism personally.”
No one spoke to me like that. I was Zedekiah Lazaro Salvatore, Deirdre O’Shea and Brando Salvatore’s firstborn. Boston fucking royalty, king of the soccer field, and prince of the city’s Italian criminal underworld. People kissed my ass and rolled out the red carpet. They bowed their heads and averted their eyes. Nobody gave me shit. Except Nairne MacGregor, apparently.
I dropped my grip on my jacket to hide the boner her sharp mouth gave me and feigned a smile. “You’ll excuse me.”
Waiting for her polite acknowledgment was out of the question. If I stuck around, she’d know exactly what her sass did to my body. I stormed out, knocked shoulders with someone and muttered an apology, then barreled toward the exit. I wasn’t normally clumsy—both of my professions were predicated on exceptional coordination and hyper-awareness—but I chalked it up to ninety-five percent of my blood gathering in my dick rather than my brain. Finally, I landed outside where I sucked in a breath and oriented myself.
Observing her during the meeting had been torture. Elbow on the table, jotting things down then setting her pen exactly parallel to the paper’s edge. Precise. Perfectionist. She’d listened while her wide green eyes darted between people as they spoke. Nairne was neurotically observant, cunning even. Watching her gears turning had turned me on. Big time.
She hadn’t spoken much, but when she had, I’d noted her vowels were off. She had an accent, and it wasn’t Southie. I couldn’t place it, and just like her hair that wouldn’t make up its mind between mahogany and rich red, her speech was another wrinkle in my morning. I’d never been this simultaneously annoyed and aroused.
Chloe’s always been a sucker for a suspenseful steamy romance, ever since she managed to find the one saucy mystery series hiding in her high school’s prim little library. Nothing drives her crazier than a story that cranks up the heat, then closes the door on the reader’s face, so don’t read her books if you don’t want to know what actually happens when the lights fade to black…
When she’s not writing, Chloe’s busy reading books of all genres, rereading Harry Potter (which she can’t help but make her characters similarly obsessed over), and playing catch-up with her bad@$$ little girls. She’s also been known to scramble around the pitch for a pick-up soccer match and run along the river while dreaming up her next book.
Do you have a five-year plan? That may sound like a weird question to ask someone on a book review site, but if you have made long term plans, and see them fall through, after putting a lot of energy in the completion of…
I have another excerpt for you! Today, you can read a snippet of the about the be released young adult novel I Spy The Boy Next Door by Samantha Armstrong! And yes, the book is already available for pre-order, so you can make sure that…
Do you like Friends – To – Lovers Romances? Then I have a new release that you should check out. Or at least, you could read the excerpt of In Other Words by Jennifer Woodhull below, and see if you find it as interesting as I have. What do you have to lose? Oh, and of course I have another giveaway for you – this time with a chance to win a 25 Dollar Amazon gift card!
Title: In Other Words
Author: Jennifer Woodhull
Publication date: April 30th, 2019
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
We became close friends in college. When Sinclair returns home to Dallas after two years in New York, I introduce her to my best friend Cole. The good-looking playboy ballplayer is the perfect kind of guy for the woman I’m sure would never be interested in me…even if seeing them together breaks my heart.
He was the nerdy PhD candidate. I was the cheerleader. We made unlikely friends. Moving back home after two years away, he looks hotter than ever. When I start dating his ballplayer best friend, things get complicated. He doesn’t see me as girlfriend material…but I can’t get him, or my feelings for him, out of my head.
There are not enough words. I don’t mean that in a dramatic way as if there are not enough words to express something with which I’m momentarily frustrated. I mean there are often times when the optimum word for something simply does not exist.
Fernweh is a German word that describes a feeling of homesickness for a place you’ve never visited before. The Swedish word, lagom, describes taking not too much nor too little, but just the right amount of something. To wear or use something for the very first time is expressed in Spanish by the word estrenar.
I love words more than anything. I love hearing someone intelligent use the absolutely perfect, most fitting word at exactly the right moment. I love anagrams, crossword puzzles, and riddles. I love how they make me think about language and how people use it. Perhaps most of all though, I love awful puns—even dad-level terrible ones. I only know one person who loves language as much as I do, and he also happens to be the very person I can hardly wait to see.
The Portuguese have a word for the sensation of nostalgia and longing for someone who is far away. Saudade. That’s what I’ve been experiencing since I moved to New York. I have saudade for Dexter Flynn, but that’s about to come to an end.
I walk into The Tipsy Alchemist, an upscale hipster place Dexter chose to start our reunion evening. I visually scour the space, and am disappointed when I don’t see him. I walk the length of the bar and just as I’m about to turn and head back toward the front, a man leans in close behind me and says, “Excuse me, miss, but might I buy your first libation of the evening?”
I turn, ready to tell the guy to get lost so I can call the person I want most in the world to see. When I turn around, though, I’m met with a pair of sweet, soulful brown eyes hiding behind tortoiseshell frames. My heart darts around my chest. I throw my arms around him so hard, I nearly send us both tumbling to the floor.
“Dex!” I squeal, squeezing his neck. His arms wrap around me, and they’re far stronger than I remember.
“It’s about time you came back,” he whispers into the side of my neck as he squeezes me tightly. “I’ve missed you, Clair.”
I feel an instant wash of relief, being here in his arms. The feel of his cheek against mine and the smell of his aftershave trigger an eruption of happy memories. My brain floods with late night talks and board game marathons. My circuits overload with shared stories and supporting each other through tough times—with gushing over books and documentaries at the independent theatre. He has been such a huge part of my life for so long, and now, with him, I finally feel like I’m really home.
When we finally break from our embrace, we both realize we’re standing in the highest traffic area of the bar, and the place is so packed we might be physically in danger from rowdy patrons clamoring for beer.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. “I reserved us a booth.”
He leads me through the trendy, dark-paneled space to the back where tiny, high-walled booths, are situated. This area of the bar is quieter than the rest, and the high walls of our booth offer some much-appreciated privacy.
The booth to our immediate right houses what I can only assume is a bachelorette party judging by the volume and frequency of the word woo, coming from their direction.
When the server arrives, I order a cocktail, and Dex orders a beer. “Miss, can I ask, the group of ladies in the booth next to us…is one of them a bachelorette, by chance?” He smirks in my direction.
“Actually, yeah. Are they being too rowdy?”
“Not at all. I was just curious,” he replies. I snicker and he winks in response.
“It’s a cool story, actually,” the server pauses to tell us more detail. “She just got out of the military. She met her fiancé while they were stationed together. He was injured, and she’s a nurse.” She puts her hand to her chest. “They fell in love while he recovered in her hospital.”
Dex and I look at each other, and each make the universal face that any red-blooded human with feelings makes when seeing a baby, or a puppy, or hearing a sweet love story. “Aww,” we say in unison, laughing.
“Would you please take them a bottle of Dom Perignon and put it on my tab? Anonymous, though, please…with thanks for her service, and her fiancé’s,” Dex adds.
“Wow, that’s really nice of you! Absolutely, I’ll take care of it,” the server replies.
When she walks out of Dexter’s line of sight, she catches my eye and mouths the words, “Lucky you,” with a wink. It makes me smile unreasonably wide.
Lucky me that such a kind, thoughtful, generous man is in my life and cares so much for me. Lucky me that he’s my friend. Unlucky me that he’s not more than just a friend.
“That was very generous of you,” I tell him.
“I had the good luck to meet an inventor whose work I really admire once at a party. Knowing I was new to success, he told me, “I always say, if you’ve got it, spread it around. Nobody likes a successful, stingy asshole.” I’ve always tried to remember that,” he says with a shrug. We toast to successful good guys.
“You look amazing, Sinclair.” Dex is grinning at me, his brown eyes sparkling.
I reach across the table and take both his hands in mine, giving them a squeeze. “You look amazing too. By the way,” I say, stifling a giggle. “I didn’t know I’d need tickets.”
“Tickets? For…what, exactly?” He cocks an eyebrow up in question.
“The gun show,” I reply, pointing to what I can see is a pronounced bicep on each arm.
His cheeks flush with crimson as he looks down and away. The expression belongs to the shy, gangly guy I met in school, not the hunky, successful entrepreneur sitting across from me.
“So, have you been hitting the gym, or did you invent some magical neurotransmitter that passively enhances muscle tissue?” I tease. “Because if you have, please sign me up as a test subject. Pilates is torture, but I like to eat far too much to ever give it up without some sort of alternative.”
He chuckles. “I like to think of the fitness thing as my transformation to Dexter two-dot-oh. I have to say, I don’t hate that my efforts are producing noticeable results. I told you about my business partner Cole, right?” He asks sheepishly.
“Your friend Cole, yes,” I reply, rolling my eyes.
I think he still has a little trouble wrapping the high school part of his brain around being friends with a jock.
“Yeah. Anyway, since he pitches for the Frontiersmen he knows all the best personal trainers. He convinced me to start working out with one he recommended. I go to the gym almost every day now. Turns out I’m not as unathletic as I thought I was.” He grins wide, pride evident on his face.
“You certainly seem like you’re feeling pretty good,” I reply. I stand up enough to reach across and squeeze his bicep. “Yep, feeling pretty darn good to me.”
He smiles, then he shakes his head and chuckles. “I really do feel good…and even better now.” Something flashes briefly in his chocolate-brown eyes, then he smirks. “I’m just so happy you’re back, Clair.”
Clair. No one but him calls me that. The way he says it is familiar and makes me feel special that he has a nickname just for me. It’s the same way I call him Dex. Those terms of endearment are just for us, like they’re special words all our own.
By the time we finish the drinks the server brings over my stomach is growling, so we head down the street to a Mexican place that has always been one of my favorites.
As we walk the four or five blocks to the restaurant, a group of girls walking the opposite direction toward us are all checking Dex out as they pass. I turn to look over my shoulder and see them all looking back, whispering and giggling. When I look over at him, he seems oblivious.
And this is why he has trouble finding the right girl. He has no clue when a woman is into him.
I bump his shoulder with mine.
“They were checking you out,” I say with a smirk.
“That group of girls that walked by. They were cute, too.”
He rolls his eyes.
“So, not seeing anyone?” I ask.
“Not at the moment.” He lets out a sigh. “Maybe I’m too picky.”
“Maybe you are,” I agree.
And that’s the other reason he can’t find the right girl. He has never fully explained the criteria with me, but he seems never to have found a girl that checks all the boxes on the list of Dex requirements for the perfect girl.
Someone as genuine and kind, as smart and as funny as Dex deserves someone wonderful, though—someone who can see him for everything he is. I have tried to resign myself to the fact that I’m not that girl in his eyes. I only hope that one day he finds her, and she deserves him.
That brings me to another word that should exist, but doesn’t. There should be a word for enjoying something you have, but still wishing it was much, much more.
Jennifer Woodhull is based in the Southern United States, spending time in her second home of England, and traveling as often as she can. Her love of travel permeates her work, and her characters often find themselves exploring new and foreign surroundings.
A keen observer of human behavior, Jennifer often draws inspiration from something as simple as a fleeting connection, or the glimpse of a unique trait or characteristic. Her favorite place to write is on airplanes.
“The drone of the engine, the scores of people, all traveling to something or from something, and being disconnected from digital distractions are a combination that provides the perfect place to write,” she says. “If you see a woman in seat 9F who is balancing her Macbook on her lap because it’s time to close your tray table, please have patience. I’m just trying to finish one more sentence.”
Who says that romance novels can not make you laugh out loud? I for sure don’t think that, and neither does Melanie Summers, who has brought us this delightful and funny contemporary comedic romance novel called The Honeymooners. It takes talent to turn a book…
The cover of the week award absolutely goes to this cute front of the adorable romantic comedy Blame it on Romeo by Sophia Knightly. I am already a fan of her Beach Read series (even if I am nowhere close to a beach), and I…
Do you know what is even better than a book set in the heat of the Dominican Republic? That I can read it free on Kindle Unlimited! Today, I am introducing you to a hot new book, and the beginning of a new romance series: Heat by Nicolina Martin! This dark romance might not be for the faint of heart, but if you like books with a lot to offer and a taste of the forbidden side, then you should read this newly released novel right now!
And don’t forget to enter in the giveaway at the end of this post, for your chance to win 25 Dollar Amazon Gift card!
Author: Nicolina Martin
Series: (Russo Saga, #1)
Publication date: March 29th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Anything can happen during the hot nights in the Dominican Republic.
I just wanted a tan and to sip drinks with little umbrellas in them. I didn’t know that vacation would mean sex with a hot stranger, being drugged, and nearly killed. My instincts tell me there’s more to the smooth facade of Nathan Russo, but my heart won’t listen. He’s my opposite, hot where I’m cool, experienced while I’ve never really lived. What starts out as a sexy fling can’t be more. Can it?
I’m a dangerous man with a mission to complete and people to kill. Sydney Lewis might literally cost me my life. As the stakes increase, I have to decide whether to follow my head or my heart. My life is too dangerous, I’m too much of a monster. She’s a good girl. She can’t be a part of this. I have to be cruel. I have to cut her out.
But she’s the only one who can save me.
Heat will take you on a journey to paradise, through Hell, and back.
Publisher’s Note: This dark romance is intended for adult readers only and may contain triggers for some readers. It contains elements of danger, adventure, steamy scenes, adult language, and a guaranteed HEA. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.
WARNING: THIS EXCERPT IS EXPLICIT!
Fingers thread through my hair.
I don’t move, my heart speeds up. In an instant, I remember where I am. What I have done. I slept on his lap, knowing it was an open invitation to something I still can’t articulate. I fight to control my breathing and try not to stir because I don’t want him to know I’m awake. I want to see where he takes this.
I realize I’m holding my breath and force myself to breathe again. I try to inhale calmly, but it catches in my throat. His arm, draped around my waist, tightens. He knows I’m awake, knows I’m not objecting, and he’s not stopping.
His hand slides under the blanket. It’s hot on my skin through my thin blouse. He traces a path along my arm down to my hand that lies in front of my chest, then he moves and places his palm below my breasts, letting it rest there. A finger slides across my nipple. It stiffens instantly. It screams for his attention, and that light brush is far from satisfying. I forget to breathe, and then I just give up on it altogether. I want more. This feels so kinky. So forbidden.
I have to force myself to stay still.
His hand hovers over my nipple, then he pinches it gently and I gasp, spikes of want surging through me. This pretending-to-sleep routine is going to be hard to keep up. When I don’t object, he grows bolder and cups my breast and squeezes. Carefully at first, and then with more force. He suddenly stills and I hear the soft steps of someone approaching.
“Is there anything you need, sir? Coffee? A pillow for yourself?”
“Thank you. I’m good,” he answers cheerfully.
“She seems to be having a good sleep.”
“Oh yes. Anyone would envy her.” His voice reverberates through his chest.
Oh yes indeed!
His hand starts exploring again. It moves down along my belly and I tense up like a piano wire. Is he going where I think he’s going? But then I feel his warm palm on my naked skin as he pushes his hand under my blouse and moves upward again. He pushes up my bra, freeing my breasts, pinching first one nipple and then the other before he firmly squeezes my breasts, paying good attention to them both. I squirm and am barely able to stifle the moan that wants to escape my throat. His other hand rests on my head, toying with my hair, then taking more of a forceful hold of it as his breathing changes, gets more labored. I like it. I like that I affect him as much as he affects me.
When his hand abandons my breasts, I miss its presence immediately. I wonder if he’s done exploring, but he changes direction, caressing along my stomach and then down the front of my hip. Oh—Oh my God! Sliding his hand down my skirt, he pulls it up until his fingers rest scorching hot on my thigh. Agonizingly slow, he feels his way up my thigh until his hand rests on my panties. Panties that are drenched with moisture.
When a finger starts circling my clit through the fabric, I can’t help the moan that escapes me.
Nicolina Martin is a Swedish born author who escapes the long, dark winter nights by writing hot contemporary romance/suspense.
She’s a mother of three teenage girls, a medical doctor, a quirky loner, and a social human being. She has traveled the globe, has had more lovers than she can count, has loved and hated, succeeded and failed, has gone through marriage and divorce. She has seen darkness and despair, as well as light and happiness.
All these experiences, she pours into her tales, taking her readers for a wild ride while twisting their minds. She loves showing that stories can be different even if the trope is the same.
Nicolina believes that life is too short for regrets and in looking forward, no matter what. She wants to enjoy every moment, and cherish life.
To find out more about Nicolina Martin, visit her official website.
Second-Chance Romance Novels are fun to read, I think that is especially the truth when the circumstances are somewhat tragic and explore themes of selflessness and devotion, as this book does. A heartwarming and emotional read, What He Wants by Jessie Gussman, may not be…