Blog Tour, Book Reviews, Contemporary Romance, Excerpt/Teaser Share, New Releases


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“How is this book both adorable and sexy? The Trouble with Christmas is a big city meets small town, opposite attract hilarious romance full of holiday shenanigans, family, love and sigh-worthy moments. It’s one of the must-reads of 2019! I absolutely loved it!” –Naima Simone, USA Today bestselling author

The Trouble with Christmas, an all-new opposites attract romance from USA Today bestselling author Amy Andrews, is available now!


All Suzanne St. Michelle wants is an over-the-top, eggnog-induced holiday with her best friend in Credence, Colorado. But when her hoity-toity parents insist she come home for Christmas in New York, she blurts out that her sexy landlord is actually her boyfriend and she can’t leave him—Joshy loves Christmas. The more twinkle lights the better.

Rancher Joshua Grady does not love Christmas. Or company, or chatty women. Unfortunately for him, the chattiest woman ever has rented the cottage on his ranch, invited her rich, art-scene parents, and now insists he play “fake rancher boyfriend” in a production of the Hokiest Christmas Ever. And somehow…she gets him to agree.

Apparently, he’ll do anything to get his quiet life back. At least there’s mistletoe every two feet—and kissing Suzy is surprisingly easy. But in the midst of acres of tinsel, far too many tacky Christmas sweaters, and a tree that can be seen from space, he’s starting to want what he lost when he was a kid—a family. Too bad it’s with a woman heading back to New York before the ball drops…

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Grady barely felt the chill as he stripped off his freezing, sodden shirt in the equally freezing concrete shell of the mudroom. The silence was distracting. Too distracting, and he could think of little else. The last three mornings, he’d gone about his chores serenaded by chanting monks. Which was strange but…whatever. It didn’t bother him or the animals, and it gave his ranch hands something to laugh about.

Except now there was no music. And that was bothering him, because he suddenly realized he was thinking about her—something he’d been trying not to do. Had her power gone out? Was she sick? Had she fallen in the cottage and smacked her head on the stone floor? Had some kind of seizure? Was she unconscious? Had she decided to up and leave?

Yeah, right…he should be so lucky.

Grady shook his head, growling to himself as he flicked off the running faucet and plunged his hands into the steaming-hot sink of water, washing off the caked-on muck from his hands and arms and chest courtesy of a calf that had gotten itself bogged in a freezing quagmire caused by recent rain and melting almost-frozen ground.

He’d managed to rope it out with the help of two of his hands, its plaintive mooing and the distress of its mother keeping everyone focused on the job but somehow, when they were almost there, he’d managed to lose his balance and fall into the frigid mud.

His hands had laughed their asses off as they’d dragged his out of the muck.

The hot water felt good on his chilled skin as he picked up the cake of soap and lathered his arms and chest and neck. He needed a real shower, of course, but he’d learned a long time ago to wash up before he went inside. The plumbing in the mudroom was way more forgiving than the more delicate pipes inside the cabin.

Thankfully his jeans weren’t as mucky. Ordinarily he’d have stripped them off in the mudroom, too, and walked from the barn to the cabin in his underwear—isolated living did have its advantages—but he wasn’t about to do that with Suzanne St. Michelle nearby.

And great…just great. He was thinking about her again.

He obviously wasn’t getting laid enough. Just how long had it been since he’d been with a woman? Well over a year ago. Probably closer to two. Because that had to be it, that had to be the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about the curvy New Yorker even though she’d stayed on her turf exactly as he had demanded.

Reaching with one hand for the fresh towel that hung over the hook above the sink, he pulled the plug with the other, then proceeded to towel dry. At least up until he heard a faint gasp and spun around to find the woman on his mind standing just inside the doorway, her curves hidden in a huge red coat, that green knitted cap pulled down low over her forehead and ears.

His hands paused mid drying the back of his neck. The room wasn’t big, maybe five feet by five feet, which meant she was way closer to him than he was comfortable with, given his state of undress.

“Oh…I’m…sorry.” Her breath misted into the frigid air as her voice faltered. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

Her eyes fell to his chest, zeroed in on the nickel-size scar just beneath his right collarbone courtesy of some shrapnel, before straying to his pecs and abs for what seemed like forever, the awkward silence stretching. Normally Grady wouldn’t bother filling it because silences were where he felt most comfortable and the other person generally rushed in to fill them up. But Suzanne wasn’t bothering, either.

At least not with her mouth anyway.

Her eyes were a different story. They were having an entire conversation as they roved all over his chest. She was looking at him like he was a slice of one of Annie’s pies, and Christ if that wasn’t like a bullet straight to his dick. The kind of friendly fire he could do without.

Fucking hell. He didn’t want to be pie. Not this woman’s. Not any woman’s. He wanted to be…tofu. Nobody lusted after tofu.

“Had some trouble with a calf.” Grady felt like an explanation might help the situation, but he still felt like an idiot making small talk.

“Was it being born?” She pulled her gaze from his abs to his eyes. “Did you have to stick your hand up inside and drag it out? I saw that on a documentary once and couldn’t believe how messy it was. And how calm the mother was. I mean, I’m not sure I’d be okay to just stand there while someone stuck their entire arm up my hoo-ha, right?”

She hesitated for a moment like she’d done the first day they’d met, like she wasn’t sure this was a topic for polite conversation. But her mouth had already committed, so she jutted her chin and went for it.

“I know it has to be done and, let’s face it, a calf is much bigger than a man’s arm—”

Her gaze dropped to his arms via the scar, his chest, and his belly button. She was looking at him like pie again. Annie’s pecan pie with melted butter. Sweet and savory all at once. An orgasm for the tongue.

Not tofu. Plain, tasteless, orgasmlessTofu.

“Even yours,” she continued, forcing her gaze back to his face, and it took Grady a moment to pick up the thread of her ramblings. She shuddered. “But no thank you. I mean, seriously, females of all species really do get a raw deal. I bet you if the males had to push out disproportionately bigger babies through the passage provided for the process, they’d have invented some kind of handy zipper system a long time ago. Some dude would have patented the bejesus out of it.”

She stopped abruptly, snapping her lips closed as if her mouth had finally received the frantic shut the fuck up messages from her brain. Her cheeks looked pink, but then so did her nose, so it was probably just the nippy December weather.

Grady stared at her, not only at the amount of words she’d spoken but at the content of her monologue. “We…” He spoke because it felt like his turn, but he didn’t even know what to do about cows with zippers. “We don’t calve in winter.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded briskly, her cheeks definitely growing pinker now. “That makes sense. Who wants to be cold and in pain, right?”

She gave a funny little half smile that ended quickly and awkwardly. Then they just stood and stared at each other for several beats longer than was normal or even comfortable, their warm breaths misting into the air.

Tucking her hands into the pockets of her red coat, she said, “I hope it’s okay to have a look around?”

Grady gave a brief, terse nod. “Just don’t go too far or go near the animals.” Last thing he needed was to rescue some damn fool city slicker who’d wandered off and gotten herself lost.

She nodded absently as her gaze drifted again, licking over his chest, lingering on the scar. He should be freezing, half-naked in a room that was little more than an icebox, but with her looking at him like she was trying to commit every line and chest hair to memory, he only felt hot.

Really fucking hot. Melted butter on pecan pie hot.

“I hope—” Her voice sounded a little uneven, and she cleared her throat. “I hope my music hasn’t been disturbing you the last few days.”

He wasn’t sure why she was making small talk—although it was preferable to incessant observations about cow hoo-has and zippers. Nor was he sure why he was standing ramrod straight in front of her, thinking about pie when he should be grabbing the spare shirt he kept in the cupboard above the washbasin and getting decent.

But up had been down since the moment she’d arrived.

“It’s fine,” he dismissed. It hadn’t been the music that had been disturbing him, that was for sure.

She nodded again, glancing around the room briefly before settling her eyes back on his chest. “Well…I guess I’ll…” She didn’t finish the sentence as her gaze once again zeroed in on the scar, and her lips rolled together in contemplation. “Do you mind—?” She stepped forward and raised her hand tentatively.

When he didn’t move because he was paralyzed by the realization she was actually going to touch him, she became bolder, stepping in closer again as her fingers made contact. She was so close now, he could smell her. Coffee and snickerdoodles? And something sharp, maybe chemical. Paint, he supposed.

“Is it a bullet wound?”

Grady flinched as she touched the scar, her fingers like icicles as they sunk into the small indentation. He closed his eyes as heat bloomed from the center, spreading like a ripple, burning like a furnace down the length of his body.

Blood pulsed hard and thick, everywhere. Damn it, she might as well be wrapping that cold hand around the throbbing hardness pressing into the zipper of his fly. It was probably forty degrees in this concrete box, but it felt like a sauna, and it was an easy 120 inside his boxers.

He swallowed. “It’s from…shrapnel.”

He had no idea why he wasn’t stepping back. He should step back. He should have said, Yes, I do mind, told her it was none of her business. He should be finding a shirt.

Find a fucking shirt, idiot.

“Did it hurt?”

Surprised by the question, he glanced down to find the bulky knit of her hat a whisker away from brushing the underside of his chin. “Like a bastard.”

She looked up and they were close—her mouth was close—her fingers a balm to the old wound that still made his shoulder ache on cold winter mornings. His heart thumped like a jungle drum and god almighty, it was hot enough in here to grow bananas.

“Was it bad? Did you bleed a lot?”

His throat was dry as the concrete beneath his feet. “It bled some.” Then, finally getting his shit together, he took a step back, and her hand slid away.

If his distancing bothered her, she didn’t show it, just simply said, “Thank you for your service.”

Grady didn’t know what to say. He never knew what to say to this standard platitude. He appreciated the sentiment, but he’d just been doing his job. So he nodded, his pulse reverberating like a dinner gong in his ears, as she slowly backed out of the room and disappeared from sight.

Reaching for the sink, Grady gripped the curved edge in both his hands and hunched over, dropping his head down between his shoulder blades and taking some deep steadying breaths.

January could not come soon enough.


About Amy Andrews

Amy is an Aussie author of hot contemporary romance who believes in multiple orgasms, mighty wangs and happily ever afters. She’s been penning them for over twenty years and has 70+ books to her name.

As well as unforgettable characters and great sex you’ll also be treated to some laughs and a dollop of quirk because Amy doesn’t seem to know how to write a book without a bit of both. You might also cry a little because there’s nothing she loves more than a laughy-criey book!

She also loves sunsets and rainbows, unicorns and mermaids, booze and travel. And her home that overlooks the ocean. She may also happen to believe she was a Roman goddess in her past life because its the only thing that explains her adoration for all things Italy.

Connect with Amy



Twitter: @amyandrewsbooks




Blog Tour, Book Reviews, Contemporary Romance, Excerpt/Teaser Share, New Releases

Blog Tour – Cocky Player by Stacey Lynn

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Cocky Player, an all-new standalone sports romance from Stacey Lynn is now live!


Like most guys I have a type— she wasn’t mine. Not at all.

The angelic beauty on the dance floor has innocence written all over her. But I can’t
stay away. And when she runs from me, leaving me wanting more, I can’t get her out
of my head.

Turns out finding her won’t be too hard. My mystery virgin is the new marketing
assistant for the Rough Riders Football team. And the owner’s daughter.

She wants to lose her virginity and she’s come to me for one thing, and one thing
only. I’ll gladly help her out, but we have to be careful no one discovers us.

The last thing I need is for my boss to find out I’ve been teaching his baby girl all my
dirtiest plays.

But I didn’t get to be MVP by playing by the rules.

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Read Kay’s Review: Cocky Player

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A chill skittered down my arms and to my toes until my body erupted in goose bumps. Hairs at the back of my neck stood on end. Someone was watching me.

I stopped moving so quickly I bumped into Gina and reached out to keep her from falling onto the dance floor.

“Sorry!” I called out, but I didn’t look at her as she resettled to her feet.

My gaze was focused, skipping from the men on the dance floor to the outer circle of guys who stayed close, probably couldn’t shimmy their hips to a beat if their life depended on it but enjoyed watching the show, to the stairs…the upper level.

Straight to him.

He was there. Hands curled around a silver railing. Buttoned up white shirt un-tucked from jeans and sleeves rolled to his elbows. Casual.


Long dark hair on top, swept to the side but long enough it could also fall into his eyes.

I simply felt his pull. Felt him.

I stood still and raised my drink in his direction.

His response was a nod. So minuscule it was difficult to see from the distance but even then, I knew he was the one watching me.

And if he wanted to watch? I’d give him the show of his life.

Two men flanked him, one shoved his shoulder, the other crossed his arms over his massive chest. The men were huge.

Yes. That was going to be him.

If he could gain my attention with a look from a hundred feet away, he was definitely the kind of guy who could do other things to me even more intensely.

About the Author

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When Stacey Lynn isn’t conquering mountains of laundry and fighting a war against dust bunnies and cracker crumbs, you can find her playing with her children, curled up on the couch with a good book, or behind closed doors, imagining the next adventures she’ll soon write.

She lives off her daily pot of coffee, can only write with a bowlful of Skittles nearby, and has been in love with romance novels since before she could drive herself to the library.

Stacey Lynn lives with her husband and children in North Carolina.

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If you would like to know more about Stacey Lynn, follow her here:


Twitter: @staceylynnbooks



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Cover Reveal, New Releases

Cover Reveals – SWAT Generation 2.0 By Lani Lynn Vale

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We have the next 3 covers in the SWAT Generation 2.0 series by USA Today bestseller Lani Lynn Vale for you today and they are AMAZING! Ask Me If I Care, May Contain Wine and Jokes On You will all be out Spring of 2020
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SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 4
Release Day – April 14th,
Ares saw him for the first time at a Kilgore Police Department benefit dinner. She’d gone with her dad as his plus one. Hayes Greer had gone by himself and brooded silently across the same table as her, drinking whiskey and not saying a word.
It only took that one time for her to become interested.
The next time she saw him, he was doing another benefit—but
this one requiring a whole lot fewer clothes. And that was when she knew. She wanted him. Badly. But the morose Hayes was too busy thinking about his sins to see what was right in front of his face—Ares.
Hayes Greer knew the moment that he saw the feisty Ares
Downy again that he should’ve stayed away. Maybe if he hadn’t done the stupid calendar, he wouldn’t be questioning every single woman’s intentions.
Maybe if he’d listened to that niggling feeling telling him
to stay away, he would’ve been able to do his job a little better. But seeing her with a knife to her throat, in the middle of a building set to blow, made his usually well-wired brain start to malfunction.
Because nobody was allowed to touch her like that—only him.
Nobody was allowed to scare her, either. Not and live to tell the tale.


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SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 5
Release Day – May 12, 2020
This is for charity. This is for fun. You are a professional. You can do it.
Those are the words that Calloway Alvarez chants to herself as she watches all the large men gather into the small room where she’ll be doing the interviews for her employer—Hero Magazine.
Honestly, she’s convinced herself that she can’t accomplish the task at hand.
That is until she hears his voice, and her head turns to see him standing there.
Louis Spurlock. Greek god. SWAT officer. Keeper of her secrets. Ultimate fantasy. Man who will break her heart.
Louis Spurlock has been playing nice.
He’s been biding his time, giving Calloway the space she thinks she needs.
But then he sees her taking photos of his friends in all states of dress, talking to them all as if they’re best friends, and that little thread of control he’d been managing to hold onto unravels.
Let’s change it up, she says. And the moment the words are out of her mouth, he’s stripping to his skivvies, and throwing out a challenge while he’s at it.
Calloway won’t know what hit her when he’s through playing.
But he does know one thing for sure. When it ends, she’ll be his.



AppleBooks – Coming Soon 
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SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 5
Release Day – June 09, 2020
Booth Pena definitely didn’t make the smartest of decisions when he was a teenager.
At eighteen, he knocked a girl up and signed up for the military all in the same day—signing his life away in more ways than one. Fast forward six weeks and he’s in bootcamp learning that he’s going to be a father
while also learning that not only is he going to be deployed, but it’s going to stay that way for a year.
There weren’t a lot of things that the baby’s mother and he
saw eye to eye on after that. He honestly wasn’t sure why he even slept with her in the first place.
Okay, that last part is a lie. He knows exactly why he slept
with her. Because the real woman he’s in love with, her twin sister, Dillan, won’t give him the time of day.
Five years later, and he still wants her.
Now he’s home for good, being the best father and police
officer that he can be, and still he’s not good enough.
Dillan Davidsdottir hated Booth Pena. Immensely.
She hated him because he slept with her sister, then left.
Granted, she knew that he hadn’t meant to leave like he did, unknowingly and unconsciously leaving his daughter behind, but that didn’t change the fact that he had.
Five years later, and she still dislikes him just as much
now as she did when he chose the wrong sister to take to his bed.
Maybe if he’d chosen her, her heart wouldn’t be broken, and
his wouldn’t be untouchable.
But when a SWAT officer sees his life flash before his eyes,
and decides that enough is enough, what’s a girl to do?

Give in, that’s what.



AppleBooks – Coming Soon 
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Lani Lynn Vale is a USA Today Bestselling Author of over thirty titles. She is married with three children, two dogs, two cats, a donkey, and a couple (a couple also meaning over twenty) chickens.
When she’s not writing, you can find her curled up in her favorite chair reading.
Lani is married with three children and lives in the Great State of Texas.
Book Reviews, Contemporary Romance, Release Day/New Release

New Release – Mine until Moonrise by Jennifer Bernard

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Today we have the release blitz for Jennifer Bernard’s MINE UNTIL MOONRISE, the FIRST book in the new Lost Harbor series! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today!

It’s a fine line between feuding and flirting…

Ever since Megan Miller arrived in stunning Lost Harbor, Alaska, she’s been at odds with boat captain Lucas Holt. They’re opposites in every way. She’s a city girl, he’s from an Alaska homestead. She runs nature tours, he’s all about big-money charters. He’s also arrogant, annoying and oh yeah, wildly attractive. Lost Harbor would be the perfect escape from the tragedy that sent her running–except for her feud with the hottie captain.

Lucas Holt came home for one thing—settle his father’s affairs then hightail it back to Colorado. So why is he still here? Is it because there’s something fishy about his father’s death? Is it the endearingly eccentric locals and enchanting scenery? Or could it be Lost Harbor’s newest resident, a sassy scientist who’s as sexy as she is stubborn? Arguing with Megan is the best foreplay he’s had in years.

Until one of Lost Harbor’s dangerous storms tosses everything up in the air, and a feud turns to a passionate affair–with stakes higher than Megan ever imagined.

Get Your Copy Today:

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Read Kay’s Review: Mine Until Moonrise

About Jennifer Bernard:

Jennifer Bernard is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. Her books have been called “an irresistible reading experience” full of “quick wit and sizzling love scenes.” A graduate of Harvard and former news promo producer, she left big city life in Los Angeles for true love in Alaska, where she now lives with her husband and stepdaughters. She still hasn’t adjusted to the cold, so most often she can be found cuddling with her laptop and a cup of tea. No stranger to book success, she also writes erotic novellas under a naughty secret name that she’s happy to share with the curious.

Connect with Jennifer:

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