Thursday, September 21, 2017

Release Blitz: Auctioned Virgin: Kidnapped by Frankie Love




Title: Auctioned Virgin: Kidnapped
Author: Frankie Love
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 21, 2017



Blurb

When down-to-earth heiress Justine VanDeShire decides to auction off her virginity to raise money for endangered animals in the Alaskan wild, she doesn’t expect to be kidnapped by Ryder, a rogue mountain man set on getting her off the grid.

Ryder says he knows what’s best for her … but trusting the man holding you hostage seems like a mistake.

Justine came to Alaska to sell her virginity, not to give it away to the man who abducted her. But the moment she laid eyes on this broad shouldered, bearded man, with eyes that could melt ice caps … the one thing she wants is the one thing she swore she’d never give away.








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Author Bio

Frankie Love writes sexy stories about bad boys and mountain men.

❤Get ready to fall in love ... you deserve it!❤



Author Links

Release Blitz and Giveaway: The Attraction File by Elizabeth Lynx




Title: The Attraction File
A Cake Love Series Novel
Author: Elizabeth Lynx
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: September 21, 2017



Blurb

She's Cold. He's Hot. When they get together they burn. 

Evaleen Bechmann is too busy running Human Resources for the billion-dollar company, Mimir, to even consider dating. As for emotions, she refuses to discuss that too. It doesn't matter anyway. She's invisible to men, especially one man in particular. Evaleen is fine with that. Not everyone gets their happily ever after, that’s only for novels.

Edgar Mirmir is a Nordic god to some, a tech-savvy genius to others, and to women – he is everything they desire. His life should be perfect, and everything he has ever dreamed of… only it’s not. One woman haunts him. When he first saw her, her electric blue eyes shone with defiance, fear, and sorrow. He wanted to reach out to her, but she disappeared. Until one day he turned around and there she was.








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Excerpt

I turned back to end this conversation. “Listen, Chewie—”
“Albert. My name is Albert.” He leaned closer and he wrinkled his forehead in such a way that made it obvious he was fishing for my name. He can keep on fishing because that was on a need-to-know basis. My mother always said, “Evaleen Bechmann, you are being paranoid,” but in the age of the Internet, giving him my name could be as powerful as giving him a knife.
In a way, I felt bad for Chewie-Albert. The poor guy obviously never learned how to deal with a woman. He believed groping me and refusing to take the hint that I didn’t want to go out with him was normal. And that’s just sad he’s so oblivious.
“Okay, Albert. You seem like a nice, if not, handsy Star Wars . . . purist. You got a killer costume that any other Star Wars purist of the female species would love—”
“I hear ya.” He winked, nodding as his eyes perused my form.
Sighing, I realized in that moment the Wookie wasn’t getting it. I shouldn’t be surprised, every man I had met hadn’t gotten it. They touched and they took, but they didn’t understand. That’s why I avoided them. Preferring to remain alone.
“I am not that female, Albert. I am the type of female who chooses to not dress in fur costumes, or skimpy princess costumes, or costumes in general. This female just likes to stand in a line and be left alone. So, good luck finding your princess, but I am as far from a princess as you will find around here.”
His shining brown eyes dimmed as my words began to sink in. Before he could get any more Wookie courage, I turned back to find the blonde still at the counter.
Normally, I left people alone because, unlike Albert, I respected their space. But surviving on only three hours of sleep before an interview for a job that I needed, action was necessary.
Taking a step forward, I tapped the blonde on her bulbous shoulder and took a breath. “Excuse me, Miss, but I believe it has been ten minutes, which is plenty of time to order your drink. Some of us don’t have the luxury of time, and were kept up by our roommate doing gymnastics in bed with her boyfriend until four in the morning.” I gritted my teeth and shook my head trying to get back on point. “So, if you wouldn’t mind placing your order and letting the rest of us have a turn . . .”
Just as I finished, the woman turned to face me.
She had a beard. Also, an Adam’s apple.
The woman wasn’t a she but a he. He had a beard, lush and blond like his long hair, not fake and matted like Albert’s costume. His eyes were the most beautiful gray, like smoke rising from a smoldering fire. They slid over my face.
I shivered.
“Miss?” His deep, velvety tone came out thick as butter and rendered me utterly catatonic. The timbre of his voice like a sonic boom under my skin. His skin, on the other hand, remained still, smooth, and my fingers, for reasons I am attributing to lack of sleep, twitched to touch any part of him.
His eyes widened at what I could only assume was disbelief. Disbelief that a woman of twenty-six years would be referring to a fine specimen of a man, a manly man if you will, as a woman. Despite his thick blond mane and skirted attire, he was all muscle.
I realized this man was in costume too, like Chewie. Only this man was dressed like the Scottish hero William Wallace and not a sweaty sci-fi version of Sasquatch. He even painted his face blue and white.
One would think that a tall man with thick muscles and a wild painted face would instill fear in me, but no. Instead of running in terror, I did the opposite. I laid my hands on him. My fingers caressed his chest working their way down. Doing the exact thing I just lectured Albert not to do. I should have probably stopped.
But I didn’t.
Never in my life had I taken advantage of anyone in this manner but he gave off some pheromone that screamed sex me with your hands. Sensing quickly how firm his chest was it propelled me farther down, down to his abs. The man had a six-pack or maybe even an eight-pack; whatever pack was hiding under that brown threadbare piece of cashmere was making my heart race and lady parts start to turn savage themselves.
“What are you doing?”
He was still there and I was still in the coffee shop. This wasn’t a dream. The kilted blond’s voice broke me out of my self-gratifying pawing and I realized I was feeling him up, or down as the case may be.
What are you doing, Evaleen?
I froze before snapping my hands away. I began to smooth out my unwrinkled brown blazer as if I wasn’t a chest molester and nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Clearing my throat, I tried to salvage what little dignity I had left.
“I . . . I . . .” Was all I could get out before I turned to look at the raven-haired barista who either had a rare eye condition that caused her to shoot fire at anyone she laid eyes upon, or she hated me right now. I was going with the latter, so I turned my gaze to the line of customers who had their phones turned up to face me as they filmed what had been occurring. Including Albert.
Great, not only am I mortified, but I will now be some viral Internet sensation known only as, The Woman Chest Molester.
Now it was the kilter’s turn to tap his foot as he folded his thick, strong arms in front of himself in protection from the mad chest molester. He’ll probably tell tales to his future kids and grandkids of the crazy chest molester. “Be wary of her,” he’d say in a low warning with his dialect suddenly turning from American to Scottish. After all, he was dressed as William Wallace.
 As he crept down to their eye level, and as the window panes would rattle from the storm that swirled outside his Scottish castle, he would whisper, “For if wee girls and boys don’t do as they’re told, the wiry fingers of the deranged chest molester will grab hold!” The kids would cower, holding their blankets to their little faces; one girl would begin to cry as he wrapped his powerful arms gently around her tiny frame in comfort. He’d calm her as he broke out into an old Gaelic tune.
I start humming out loud the only Gaelic tune I know, which wasn’t really a Gaelic tune but it’s Scottish, so close enough.
The barista interrupted my musical display, “Is that ‘I Would Walk 500 Miles’?”
I frowned in shame at what I had become in these past few minutes.
“Blue eyes,” the kilted blond mumbled as he stared at me.






Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU






Author Bio

Elizabeth Lynx writes romantic comedy with steam. She's a recovering comedian. Wife and mother of the male species. Believer in love & laughter. Her life consists of preventing small catastrophes and wondering if a day will exist when she doesn't have to fold laundry.



Author Links

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Blog Tour and Review: ROCK ME by Carly Phillips

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Rock Me, a sexy new standalone from Carly Phillips is available NOW!

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Rock Me by Carly Phillips Publication Date: September 19th

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Bodyguard Bad Boys … Sexy, Hot, and oh so protective!
A pop star in danger.
Her reluctant bodyguard.
A past they can’t deny.
Summer Michelle is on the verge of ultimate fame.
Ben Hollander has sworn off mixing business with pleasure.
But keeping his hands off of the sexy songstress is easier said than done and once the threat is neutralized, will she choose fame over love?

Excerpt:

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, the thunderous live applause still echoing around her and the rush of success and pride in overcoming what could have been a disaster, had her soaring.
“Did you see that?” she asked Ben.  “My earpiece went dead and I nailed it anyway!”
“You totally did,” he said, a huge grin on his face that let her know he understood what a huge moment this was.
She squealed in excitement and threw her arms around his neck, needing to share her exhilaration. Their gazes met and locked, the air around them suddenly crackling with tension and sexual need even Ben couldn’t deny.
She knew what she wanted, knew there was no better time to go about it. Her gaze fell to his mouth and she pressed her lips against his. He jerked in surprise then groaned, thrust his hand beneath her hair, holding her against him as he slid his tongue past the seam of her lips and kissed her back.
He might think he wanted to keep his distance but his body was demanding they get close, his mouth gliding back and forth over hers, razor stubble bristling her cheeks in a sweet burn and his tongue delved deep. Against her stomach, she felt the hard press of his erection, causing desire to sweep over her in waves.
No wonder she hadn’t found a guy she wanted to keep in her life. No one could live up to Ben.
He kissed like he wanted to possess her.
Own her.

Keep her.

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My Thoughts:

Carly Phillips is one of my go-to authors. Whenever I see a new book out by her, I usually don't even have to read the blurb to know what I'm in for: a fast-paced story filled with good characters, an interesting plot and lots of sexy times. Rock Me is no exception. This one actually adds a bit more intrigue, but then, it is about bodyguards, so it's to be expected. And let me tell you, this is one bodyguard I'd love to have around. I absolutely loved Ben! He was such a good character, so solid and sexy and I really loved his story line. But for probably the first time in a Carly Phillips book, I was kind of aggravated by the heroine. I really didn't like Summer that much. I thought she was a little too self-centered, but I guess that's to be expected considering her line of work. She did redeem herself in the end, so there is that, but she really drove me kind of crazy throughout. Other than that, this was another fun book by a favorite author and I can't wait to read the next one!

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Meet Carly Phillips:

Carly Phillips is the N.Y. Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 50 sexy contemporary romance novels, including the Indie published, Dare to Love Series. She is happily married to her college sweetheart, the mother of two nearly adult daughters and three crazy dogs. Carly loves social media and is always around to interact with her readers.

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Connect with Carly:
Sign up for Carly’s Newsletter at: http://www.carlyphillips.com/newsletter-sign-up/
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Blog Tour: KING OF CODE by CD Reiss

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King of Code, an all-new intriguing and sexy standalone from CD Reiss is available NOW!

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King of Code by CD Reiss Publication Date: September 18th, 2017 Genre: Contemporary Romance

From New York Times Bestselling author, CD Reiss, comes a sexy tale of secrets, intrigue, betrayal, and a love worth crossing a continent for.
Taylor Harden is a man on the edge.
The edge of fame. The edge of untold wealth.
The edge of utter humiliation.
He built an unhackable system, and in front of everyone, it’s hacked.
His reputation goes from king to goat in a split second. Boom. Like that.
Some dude in Barrington, USA (AKA Nowhere) has locked down Taylor’s code, and if he doesn’t get it back, he’s going to be wearing a monkey suit for the rest of his life.
Except, this guy? This hacker from Nowhere? He’s not a guy.
Harper Watson’s all woman. And she has a plan for Taylor, his code, and his body.

Excerpt:

“About time!” the older lady shouted.
“Is Harper back?” I asked, handing the bags to the blushing redhead.
As if summoned, Harper came through the swinging door, keeping it open so everyone could get past. She looked at me through the screen.
“You coming in?” she asked.
“We need to talk.”
“Did the decryption key work?”
The door slapped closed behind her as she came out, and we were alone. The way the setting sun hit her cheeks made her glow, and the strands of gold hair at the edges looked translucent. She belonged on a postcard.
I kept forgetting she was holding me hostage. I kept forgetting I needed to think strategically. I had more at stake with this girl than I’d ever had with another.
“Did you doubt it would work?”
“Not really. I’m just making conversation.”
“What are the thorns about?” I pointed at the thorn bed that had eaten my phone and went down the stairs to the yard.
She came after me. “Don’t you have these where you’re from?” She snapped a dry twig off the end.
“Roses? Yes. Impenetrable, groomed thorn bushes in our yards? No.”
“It’s not normal to give the gardeners in town something to do?” We walked around the perimeter.
“You are not normal.”
“It still blooms in spring. It’s really nice. You should see it.”
We were at the back end of the yard, where the very top of the factory’s roof cut the horizon.
I took her hand, pulling her to a stop. “Harper.”
“Taylor?” Her hair flew in her mouth when she turned, and she drew her finger across her cheek to get it out.
What was I supposed to tell her again? That I knew we’d interviewed her. That I didn’t give her the job despite her having a leg up on everyone else we saw.
But was I contrite? Accusatory? Was I just going to relay information? What did I want out of her after I told her I knew?
“Thank you for helping today,” she said. “If you’d asked me when we met, ‘Would Taylor Harden help clean the factory?’ I would have said, ‘No, not for any reason.’ But there you were. Pushing a broom. Scooping up shit. Not being an asshole.”
“My watch was at stake.”
“Yeah. Whatever. You can say what you want to keep your reputation as a shithead intact.”
“I have a reputation as a shithead?”
“You know you do.”
I did know it, and I reveled in it.
She faced me and put her other hand out. I took it, holding both hands between us. I couldn’t help it.
“Well, you guys are such a bunch of sad sacks I had to help. And let me tell you, every guy in Barrington has a little asshole in him. Trust me. I’ve played pool with them.”
“I want to say…” She stopped herself as if she really didn’t want to say. “Let’s get together tonight and get you another decryption code. But… saying this is stupid.” She bit her lip.
“Say it anyway.”
“The sooner you get four codes, the sooner you leave.”
I looked at our hands so I wouldn’t have to look at her.
“I’m not sure if I want that,” she said.


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Read Today!

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About the Author

CD Reiss is a New York Times bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn't pick up she's at the well hauling buckets. Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master's degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels. She's frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn't ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood. If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

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