Blog Tour – Once Upon A Time In Bliss by Lexi Blake

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Go back in time to Bliss’s first happily ever after…

Once Upon a Time in Bliss, an all-new sexy romance in the Nights in Bliss, Colorado Series from New York Times bestselling author Lexi Blake writing as Sophie Oak, is available now!

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CIA operative John Bishop arrived in Bliss, Colorado, seeking a respite from the high-stakes game of blood and lies that sent him to the worst corners of the world. A week playing the role of vacationing professor Henry Flanders would recharge his batteries, especially if he found a gorgeous woman to occupy his time.

Nell Finn has spent her life focused on helping others, but when she meets the tall and mysterious Henry Flanders, she can’t stop imagining what he might do for her. When Nell and her mother are threatened, Henry comes to her, offering his protection and comfort.

But as the threats escalate out of control, Henry discovers that the beautiful and innocent Nell is much more than a plaything. Can he save the woman he loves without exposing the secrets that would drive her away?

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Read Kay’s Review: Once Upon A Time In Bliss

Excerpt:

“Is there any way you could drop me off in town?”

He felt his eyes narrow because she had plans. That was obvious. He was fairly sure that he wouldn’t like her plans. “Why?”

“Because I need to start scheduling the repairs.”

That wasn’t all she was planning on doing. She was hiding something. It was right there in the way she wouldn’t look him in the eyes. And why had she talked about her mom staying with Pam Sheppard and not herself? It was time to start herding Nell in the proper direction. He crowded her. It wasn’t hard in the small bedroom.

The minute she realized how close he was, she backed up, ceding the space until her back hit the door. “Henry?”

“How do you intend to pay for those repairs?” This cabin would require extensive repairs. Everything would have to be replaced. The door alone would cost hundreds of dollars, not to mention fixing the windows. He would bet a lot that Nell didn’t have that money.

Her face flushed the closer he got. Yes, she was aware of him, finally. That was what he wanted. “I don’t know that’s your business.”

“So it’s my business to take care of this for you, but not to know how you’ll take care of yourself? Is that how you work when you help someone out? You do one piece of the job and send them on their way?” He was playing on her sympathetic soul. And her body. He leaned in. She smelled sweet, like milk and honey. Damn, but he could eat her up. And there was no way to miss the way her nipples peaked under her sweater because she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Her voice was slightly breathless. “I think it’s nice that you want to help, but I don’t need it. I can fix everything.”

He loomed over her, well aware that he was using his height to intimidate her. “How, Nell? Do you have a job you haven’t told me about?”

“I have a computer I can pawn,” she said quietly.

He’d wondered what she’d intended to do, and still his freaking cold-as-fuck heart softened a fraction. All she’d talked about on the way over here was her writing. “I thought you wrote books.”

Her back was against the wall. She had nowhere to go, and that was just what he wanted. Her eyes had dilated. They roamed from his face to his neck to his chest, taking him in even as she spoke. “I do, but I have to admit, I don’t think I’m very good at it. I keep getting rejected, so I might as well get rid of the computer. Do you have to stand so close?”

There wasn’t a trace of irritation in that question. It had been asked with a delicious breathiness that let him know she was interested.

“If you didn’t want me to stand so close, you should have gotten a bigger bedroom,” he said, well aware his voice had gone low. He stared down at her, unwilling to let her off the hook for a second. Now that he was close to her, he was damn sure he couldn’t let her go. Oh, eventually he would. He would go back to his life and she would move on with hers, but for a week or so, he was going to be in her bed. He was going to be in her body. And he was going to solve a few of her problems. “You can’t pawn your computer. How will you keep up with your protests? How will you know what to protest in the first place?”

It didn’t make any sense, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her walking into some crummy shop and giving up her computer for half of what it was worth.

“I’ll figure it out,” she replied, her eyes round.

And selling the thing wouldn’t do any good. It would be a drop in the bucket of what she would need. “It won’t work, Nell.” He backed her against the wall. “Let someone help you. I can loan you the money.”

It wouldn’t be a loan, but she didn’t have to know that until he was long gone and she couldn’t find him.

“That’s not a good idea.” Her head tilted up. “None of this is a good idea.”

But her lips, those fuck-me, take-me lips, were trembling. Her hands were moving to his waist like she couldn’t help herself, and he didn’t even want to try to help himself. Everything about his life was plotted and planned and decided on for the best of whatever fucking mission he happened to be on.

He didn’t want to think. He wanted her. That was all that mattered.

“It’s the best idea I’ve had in a long time.”

About Lexi Blake

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband, three kids, and the laziest rescue dog in the world. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance that she found success. She likes to find humor in the strangest places. Lexi believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome or foursome may seem.

Connect with Lexi

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Blog Tour – Making Up by Helena Hunting

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“I LOVED both Cosy and Griffin! This story was ABSOLUTE PERFECTION!”- Kendall Ryan, New York Times bestselling author

Making Up an all-new laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is available now!

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Cosy Felton is great at her job—she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. So when the hottest guy she’s ever seen walks into the shop looking completely overwhelmed, she’s more than happy to turn on the charm and help him purchase all of the items on his list.

Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City. The last thing he wants is to be put in charge of buying gag gifts for his friend’s bachelor party. Despite being totally out of his element, and mortified by the whole experience, Griffin is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself attracted to the sales girl that helped him.

As skeptical as Cosy may be of Griffin’s motivations, there’s something about him that intrigues her. But sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas and when real life gets in the way, all bets are off. Filled with hilariously awkward situations and enough sexual chemistry to power Sin City, Making Up is the next standalone in the Shacking Up world.

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Read Kay’s Review: Making Up

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Excerpt:

We’re a couple of minutes away from my apartment, which also means we’re almost at the end of our date. End-of-date protocol often means a goodnight kiss.

And I’ve eaten onions. Lots of them. What the hell was I thinking? I feel around in my shorts pocket, hoping I have a random stick of gum. I find a tiny square packet and pull it out, along with an old tissue. I shove that back in my pocket and sigh with relief as I carefully open the Listerine Pocketpak. There’s one strip left. I pop it in my mouth, wishing I had water since my mouth is dry and I’m suddenly super nervous.

Griffin pulls up in front of my apartment building. I swallow a bunch of times, trying to get the strip to dissolve on my tongue and glance out the tinted window, seeing it from his perspective. I don’t live in a bad part of town, but I sure as hell wouldn’t leave this car sitting out here for any length of time unless I wanted it keyed or stripped down.

Griffin shifts into park and turns to me, one hand resting on the back of my seat near the headrest. “I had a great time, Cosy.”

“Me too, thanks for dinner.” I tried to fork over my share, but he was quick on the credit card draw.

“It was my pleasure.” He leans in the tiniest bit, a nonverbal cue that he’s going in for a kiss.

I mirror the movement, giving him the go ahead. My stomach flutters in anticipation. I exhale slowly through my nose. Even though the Listerine strip should be doing its job to mask the onions, I don’t want to ruin the moment by breathing that in his face.

His fingertips skim my jaw, and I close my eyes. And then his lips brush my cheek. I wait for them to move a couple of inches to the right, but after what feels like a lot of seconds—and is probably only a few—I crack a lid.

Griffin is still close, a wry smile on his lips and a smolder in his eyes.

“Seriously, that’s it? A kiss on the cheek?”

His smile widens, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He’s nothing like the guys I usually end up on dates with. College boys don’t take things slow. If I were out with one of the guys from school, I’d be sitting in a beat-up Civic with some stupid music playing, and he’d be all over me with his tongue halfway down my throat, copping a feel.

“I thought all the onions you ate were the equivalent to garlic for vampires.” Griffin fingers my hair near my shoulder. I’d really like him to finger something else. Wait. I mean I’d like to feel his hands on me. Not in my pants. Okay, maybe I’d like them in my pants, but not after date number one.

“I wasn’t thinking, and I really like onions. A lot. In hindsight, it’s not a great date food. I feel kinda dumb. And I guess at first I wasn’t so sure about you. How was I supposed to know you’d actually be kind of normalish?”

“Normalish?”

“Well, you drink club soda on purpose, so you can’t be all there.” I tap his temple.

Griffin circles my wrist with his fingers and drops his head, lips brushing over my knuckle. “We can’t all be perfect, now, can we?”

“I suppose not, and perfect is boring.”

“That it is.” He hums against my skin, and I feel it through my entire body. “I would like to try that kiss again, if you’re still interested.”

About Helena

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Connect with Helena

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Blog Tour – Devoted to Love by Shayla Black


He was sent to guard her body… he didn’t expect her to steal his heart.

Her sister’s wedding was hardly the place to find a hook up, but after one look at friend-of-the-groom and special operative Josiah Grant, small-town Texas beauty Magnolia West immediately fell in lust. After a stunningly sensual night together, Maggie is prepared for the two of them to go their separate ways. After all, she’s not a happily-ever-after kind of girl. But Josiah—and danger—change her plans.

Josiah isn’t looking for love…but Maggie rouses his body and stirs his heart like no other woman. She’s got a rocky romantic past, and a smart man would steer clear. But when the murder quotient in Kendall County rises and all signs point to a mysterious group nearby who have been harassing Maggie’s family, he can’t leave her unprotected—especially when he realizes he’s fallen hard for her.

As tension mounts and the menace closes in, Josiah will do anything to prove to Maggie that their love is real…but can they stay alive long enough to share it?

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Maggie was shocked to feel her hand tremble when she put her fingers in Josiah Grant’s massive palm. He’d been more than nice to look at, and she’d already entertained more than one fantasy about how hot he might look out of that sharp charcoal-gray suit. But now that she was actually going to touch him, her brain felt in eminent danger of short-circuiting. How the devil would she manage if he actually kissed her? Peeled off her clothes? Thrust his hard cock—which should be large, given the size of his hands—inside her?

She’d combust on the spot.

“Sure,” she managed to murmur while seeming somewhere between cool and detached. It was her signature move.

As they reached the dance floor, the party tune faded away, replaced by Ed Sheeran crooning that he’d love the woman in his arms until he was seventy. As Josiah pulled her close and began to sway to the slow beat, she peered up at him. Her lashes fluttered, along with her heart. She sucked in a breath. God, she had to stop being such a nervous idiot. He was a man. She was a woman. This would probably be nothing more than a fling she’d enjoy the hell out of.

But looking into his eyes, she wasn’t so sure. They weren’t blue or green or brown or even hazel. They were more unusual. They were a glinting gray with a thick fringe of lashes against tanned skin. That gaze, along with the buzz of his brown hair, made him look somewhere between exotic and dangerous. And he was staring right at her, looking entirely serious.

Mercy, what was it about this man?

He swallowed like maybe she got to him, too.

“So . . .” She searched for a conversational topic to cut her nerves.

“So . . .” He smirked in return.

“You actually can dance. I’m impressed.”

He let loose a laugh. “See? I’m a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”

Josiah glided them around the floor effortlessly, turning her under his arm, reeling her in closer, then settling his hot fingertips in the middle of her bare back before he caressed his way down her spine and placed his palm close to her ass.

Lord, he felt good. Maggie tried not to imagine how his fingers would feel skimming her whole body with that soft, unhurried stroke. “Tell me . . . Were you in the service, like Cutter?”

Josiah shook his head. “CIA.”

Wow. “That sounds dangerous.”

“The mortality rate was higher than, say, for an accountant.”

“Why do I get the feeling that’s an understatement?”

He simply shrugged. Okay, he didn’t want to talk about it. Or couldn’t. She respected that.

“How long have you worked for EM Security?”

“About a year. I signed on because I wanted to learn from the best. Then a few months later, Caleb Edgington retired. Thankfully, his sons have proven anything but amateur. What about you?”

Since he’d done important things like save the world, he would laugh a million times at what she’d chosen to do with her life. At least he’d never guess. It wasn’t as if a guy like him would ever read an Azalea North novel. In fact, no one had figured her secret out yet, not even her sister.

“I’m . . . on hold right now. Shealyn has this big life to lead, and now she’s married. My grandparents are needing more help as they get older. Papa fell last week. Thankfully, he wasn’t hurt, but Granna can’t lift him. I barely can. And she can’t remember to take her medicine half the time. They’re little issues, at least right now. But they’re going to require more care in the coming years.”

“What about your mom? Can she help?”

Maggie bit back something pointless he wouldn’t understand and she’d probably regret. “She lives in Costa Rica with her husband and my ten-year-old half brother. Up until the last few months, she really hasn’t been in my life. We’re, um . . . getting to know each other.”

“You didn’t grow up with her?”

She shook her head. “Long story.”

Hopefully, he’d read between the lines. In her book, it was a closed subject. She still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about her mom. A few conversations didn’t erase a whole childhood of resentment, but Maggie wasn’t the sort to hold on to hate. And it wasn’t as if her youth in Comfort had been terrible.

“What about your parents?” she said to fill what could become an awkward silence.

“Long story, as well.”

In other words, he had secrets he’d rather keep, too. Fine by her.

The silence she’d been trying to avoid fell between them. Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all. But it was tight, full of awareness. She could feel herself yearning to be closer to him. But what blindsided her was his desire for her. It hung so thick in the air it was almost tangible. Like a blanket, it wrapped around her, warmed her from the January chill that blew in under the tent. It left her no doubt what he thought or wanted.

The song ended. Neither one of them moved, simply stared. Those wicked fingertips of his prowled their way up her bare back again, making her shiver, before gliding down in a barely there caress.

“Josiah?”

“How much longer do you have to stay at the reception?”

Half dazed, she scanned the room. Her sister was wrapped in her husband’s arms on the opposite corner of the dance floor. Granna and Papa had already retired. Brea, bless her, had finally managed to calm her stomach enough to enjoy the festivities. The rest of the guests had either left or kicked off their shoes, started their third drink, and gotten ready to party.

“Not another minute. Are you planning to take me to bed?”

He cupped her cheek, looking like he wanted to kiss her. Instead, he backed away, teeth gritted in restraint—for now. She had a feeling that moderation wouldn’t last.

Josiah took her hand. “Yes, I am.”

 


Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than sixty novels. For nearly twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eight years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

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Blog Tour – Fight Dirty by Emily Goodwin

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Fight Dirty by Emily Goodwin

Release Date: June 27, 2019

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Fight Dirty, an all new standalone romance novel by New York Times bestselling author Emily Goodwin.

Owen Dawson is one of Eastwood’s most eligible bachelors. He could have any woman he wants, but when it comes to settling down, he only has eyes for Charlie Williams, and he blew his chance with her years ago. While Owen is busy trying to convince everyone—and himself—that the playboy life is for him, Charlie is trying to put her life back together.

After discovering her fiancé was cheating on her, Charlie packs her bags, leaves her fancy New York job, and goes back to the one place she never thought she’d return to: home. Determined to start over and stay far, far away from men, the last thing Charlie needs in her life is her first love, Owen…and the old feelings that come rushing back the moment she lays eyes on him.

While Charlie swears to avoid romance of any kind, Owen is willing to do whatever it takes to prove he’s a changed man and win Charlie back…even if it means fighting dirty.

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Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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Excerpt:

“Hey,” I say quietly, seeing her sitting up and looking at her phone. “You got the alert too?”

She nods and looks up. Even in the dark, I can see the fear in her eyes.

“Are you still scared of tornadoes?” I ask, stepping into the room. I shut the door so the cat doesn’t get out.

“Terrified.”

“I think it’s going to miss us.”

She nods again, pulling her lips around her teeth. “Hopefully.”

“Want me to sit with you? We can go into the basement if that’ll make you feel better too.”

“If the sirens go off, I’ll go down. And yeah…I’d, uh, I’d like if you sat with me.”

Crossing the room, I sit on the opposite side of the bed. Charlie puts her phone down and leans back against the pillows.

“Do you think it’s pathetic I’m still scared of tornadoes?”

“No,” I tell her honestly. “They are scary. You can’t do anything to prevent them or stop them. All you can do is hide.”

“Exactly. And the energy gets me all jittery.” She holds up her hand. “I’m shaking.”

I take her hand in mine, lacing my fingers through hers. “It’s okay. Try to go back to sleep if you want. I’ll listen for the sirens.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Not really. I closed down the bar a few times last week. My sleep schedule is always fucked up.”

“That would mess with you, I guess.”

She swallows hard, looking over me and out the window. It’s pitch black out there, and the rain comes down in sheets. Thunder and lightning tear through the sky, and the windows rattle. Charlie squeezes my hand a little tighter.

“Bad storms tended to break up before they got into the city,” she says. “We had storms, of course, but no tornadoes.”

“We won’t have one tonight either.” I give her hand a squeeze and settle down next to her. She’s still shaking, and it’s killing me not to comfort her more. Pulling the blankets back up to her shoulders, she wiggles a little closer. I don’t know if it’s on purpose or if she’s trying to get comfortable.

Heart hammering, I pull my hand from hers and rest it on her waist. The blankets are between my hand and her body, yet it sends a jolt through me. She moves closer again, and this time I know it was intentional. She rests her hand on top of mine and slits her eyes open, looking up at me.

“Thank you, Owen.”

“Of course,” I whisper back. Her blonde hair is a mess around her face, and I turn off the light on my phone. The storm rages around us, but Charlie is safe in my arms. Her breathing becomes slow and steady, letting me know she fell asleep.

It’s innocent and platonic, and I’m hit with the memory of holding Charlie while she slept off her first drunk experience. I’m working hard to tell myself that this doesn’t mean anything, yet I know this will be a new favorite memory of mine…even if it doesn’t lead to anything.

About Emily:

Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.

She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she’s not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.

Emily is represented by Julie Gwinn of the Seymour Agency.

Connect with Emily:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/emilygoodwinbooks

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Blog Tour – The Accidental Girlfriend by Emma Hart

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The Accidental Girlfriend, an all-new hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Emma Hart is available now!

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Top Tip: Don’t put out an online ad offering your services as a fake date. Someone will take you up on it.

And it won’t just be for one night.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I ended up being Mason Jackson’s fake girlfriend.

He didn’t even want me to be. No—his sister was solely responsible for me being his date for his ten-year high school reunion.

Now, she’s responsible for telling his parents our relationship is real.

We have no choice. We have to act like this isn’t all a mistake, like it’s not all fake, like we’re totally, completely, utterly, head-over-heels in love with each other.

Simple, right?

Wrong.

Read Kay’s Review: The Accidental Girlfriend

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Download your copy of The Accidental Girlfriend today!

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Excerpt:

“I’ve seen you eat nothing but junk. Are you one of those irritating people who can eat what they want and put on no weight?”

“Okay, first.” I held up one finger. “You look like you could walk into the cast of the Avengers, so don’t come at me with that. Also, I run. Every day. And I don’t always eat junk.”

“You run?” His eyebrows shot up.

“I don’t know if I should be insulted or not.”

“No, I just—you don’t look like a runner.”

“And you don’t look like Chris Hemsworth, but here you are on my sofa looking like a dark-haired Norse god,” I shot back. “What’s your point?”

He held up his hands, fighting another laugh, one that made his eyes shine. “Hey, I have a physical job. I rarely get to the gym, but I’m always moving.”

“Have you ever worked behind a bar? I’m not exactly running a call center back there. It never stops sometimes.”

“Do I look like I mix cocktails?”

Doing what he’d done just minutes before, I took a long, hard look at him, from head to toe.

It was a mistake.

If I were a sloth, I wouldn’t just climb him like a tree; I’d hang off him for a nap, too.

Lord, he was hot.

Focus, Lauren.

“No,” I said. “You look like the lone wolf who waits for the cocktail-drinking girls to accidentally spill their drinks on your shoes.” I glanced at the time. “Speaking of, I have to go and make those cocktails.”

Mason grinned. “You want me to come and get hit on by drunk girls?”

“As someone who has no say in your life whatsoever, I don’t care what you do.” I stood up and looked at him over my shoulder. “As your fake girlfriend, I’m a bit of a tiger, so I wouldn’t.”

“I know.” He snorted, following me to the front door with his laptop tucked under his arm. “I’ve seen you play the possessive girlfriend. If this weren’t all fake, I would have been a little turned on.”

I locked the front door and tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Please. You were totally turned on.”

He said nothing as we headed for the stairs.

“You can say something. That was a joke.” I glanced at him, heat rushing to my cheeks.

His lips pulled into a smirk, eyes flashing. “I reserve the right to not respond.”

About Emma Hart

Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages.

She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.

Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.

Yes, really. She’s that sarcastic.

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Connect with Emma

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

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Blog Tour – TEARDROP SHOT by Tijan

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Teardrop Shot, an all-new sexy and angst filled sports romance from New York Times bestselling author Tijan is available now!

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I asked for his criteria for bed buddies–that’s the PG version.

He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start.

Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder.

Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation.

He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.

Correction: where I work again, because I was fired from my last job.

And dumped.

And I might have a tiny bit of baggage, but that’s normal. Right?

Reese and I shouldn’t have become friends. We shouldn’t have become roommates.

And we really shouldn’t have started sleeping together … (Except we did.)

I’m adorably psychotic. He’s in the NBA.

This is not a disaster waiting to happen, at all.

Teardrop Shot is a 107k standalone with brand new characters.

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Read Kay’s Review: Teardrop Shot

Excerpt:

He came out, all ready, saw me, and shook his head.

Giving him the biggest smile I could muster, I handed over his coffee and dangled my keys. “Let’s go.”

My neighbor was coming home from his night shift at a factory. He was trudging down the hallway when he saw us, lifted a hand in greeting, then stopped. His head shot upright and his shoulders stiffened.

He rotated swiftly on his heels, his eyes wide and bulging. He held up a hand. “Is that—”

“No.” Lying. Another superhero quality of mine. “It’s late, Bill. That’s my brother.”

Reese squashed a laugh and nodded to the guy. “What’s up.” It wasn’t a question, but a greeting, and he hustled me past my neighbor.

I gave Reese a look as we went to my underground parking spot. “He’s going to hammer me later. He’ll know he wasn’t seeing things.”

“He’s a fan?”

“The biggest.”

Reese smirked, meeting my gaze over the top of my car. “Bigger than you?”

We were entering cheesy territory here. We needed to scale it back.

“I have a cardboard cutout of you,” I told him. “In my closet.”

He froze. “You’re joking.”

I was, but now I had to buy one. “Wouldn’t you like to think that.” Settling into my chair, I felt better—more familiar terrain again. “But the funny thing is, next time you come, you won’t know if I was serious or if I bought him after I told you.”

Reese just rolled his eyes, putting the coffees in the cup holders for both of us.

He was looking around as I pulled out of the lot. “This is actually a nice place.”

“The underground parking is nice. The apartment building itself is okay. Nothing great.” I didn’t tell him how the lights in the laundry room would dim, so if I used those machines, I had to prop the door open with a rock. Or how I’d only do my clothes between seven in the morning and nine. Nine was the latest. After that, people were stirring, and there were a few neighbors I wasn’t so sure about.

Reese whistled as I pulled up to departures seven minutes later. “You weren’t kidding. That’s close.”

“And you’ve barely had your coffee.”

He yawned now, blinking a few times. “I’ll grab some inside. You can have it.”

I parked, but didn’t shut off the engine.

“Do not get out,” he warned.

I grinned. “Wasn’t planning on it. We really don’t need to go to that level, with the hugging, would we kiss or not… Too many strings, friend.”

He smiled back, but his eyes had started to smolder a bit. He leaned over, dropping his voice, “I’ll answer one of those questions.” His lips caught mine in a good, firm kiss, one that sent my senses spiraling and stole just the slightest bit of oxygen from my lungs.

I might’ve needed to gather my bearings as he pulled back and grabbed his bag from the back. Before he turned, he gave me a second kiss, this one lighter. “Go home. Go to bed,” he said as he reached for the door. “Text me when you park, and again when you’re inside your place. Humor me. I’m a friend. I can care.”

He was starting to leave, but I tugged on his shirt.

He paused, looking back.

“And after that?” I asked.

“We’re friends. Let’s play it by ear.”

Our gazes held, a shared reminder of the other details in our agreement. I saw his darkening, so I let go. “Okey-dokey. Hope you don’t get mauled.”

He laughed. “It’s too early for that.”

But we both knew the truth. It could happen.

As if reading my mind, he amended, “It’s usually not that bad. If it is—and I don’t think it will be—airport security is good with celebrities here. They’ve got a special room and everything. Plus…” He reached in his bag and pulled out a baseball hat, dragging it low over his eyes and flicking up his hood. “This is pretty incognito.”

His height wasn’t, but I decided to pick my battles. “I’ll expect twenty questions by the time you land.”

He laughed. “Don’t think so. I’m going to be sleeping that whole time, but I’ll text you updates just to annoy you.” He got out, but bent back down, his tone more serious. “Do me a favor? Only take that job if you want it. Don’t take it because you feel desperate. I can loan you money, if anything.”

That wiped all joking aside. “Reese.” Dammit. “I’ll never lose myself in a guy again. Ever.”

“Yeah, but before you didn’t have a friend who could loan you money until you got to a place where you could pick something that actually made you happy.” His eyes flashed a warning. “Now you do. Just think about it. It’s a loan. I’d give one to another friend in the same spot.”

I rolled my eyes.

He chuckled. “Drive safe. I liked screwing you. Let’s do it again and soon.”

“I changed my mind. Get mauled!”

I could hear his laugh as he shut the door and headed inside, his bag over his shoulder. Only a couple guys squinted at him, their heads cocked to the side. He was right. His incognito look really was incognito, but he was still frustrating.

And I was hoping for thesoontoo.

Driving back, my phone kept buzzing.

Reese: Checking in.

Reese: I had to check my bag. It’s too big for a carry-on.

Reese: Two autographs.

Reese: Going up the escalator now.

Reese: At the security line. The guards are cool. They promised not to be angry when Thunder beats the Coyotes.

Reese: Through security.

He knew I couldn’t answer. I was driving.

Reese: I’m at gate A6.

Reese: This is a nice airport. I always forget till I get here.

Reese: I upgraded to first class.

Reese: Coach wants to make sure I get back in time for meetings this morning.

Reese: Still not boarding. Just letting you know.

After parking, I grabbed my phone.

Me: It’s supposed to be questions. Like, if I asked security if I could put a body in my bag, could I still check it? Questions like that. You’re not following the rules.

Reese: Fuck the rules. These are my rules.

Reese: You do questions. I do updates. Deal with it.

Reese: Except now. Are you back at your place?

Me: Yes. Walking upstairs now.

Reese: No updates from you. Well. Yes. Tell me when you get in your place.

I turned down my hallway. Bill’s door opened and his head popped out. His hair was scruffed up like he’d been trying for a Mohawk. “No bullshit. Was that him?”

I was about to break a fellow Reese Forster fan’s heart. “It was my brother.”

He glared. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

That was it.

His head went back in, and he slammed his door shut.

Immediately Mrs. Rings yelled from her apartment across the hall. “STOP SLAMMING THE DOORS! EVERYONE FUCKING SHUT IT!”

And her parrot a second later.

“STOP SLAMMING FUCKING SHUT IT!”

And then, “SHUT IT, BORIS!”

And her parrot again, “EVERYONE FUCK IT AND GO TO SLEEP!”

About Tijan

Tijan is a New York Times Bestselling author that writes suspenseful and unpredictable novels. Her characters are strong, intense, and gut-wrenchingly real with a little bit of sass on the side. Tijan began writing later in life and once she started, she was hooked. She’s written multi-bestsellers including the Carter Reed Series, the Fallen Crest Series, and the Broken and Screwed Series among others. She is currently writing a new YA series along with so many more from north Minnesota where she lives with a man she couldn’t be without and an English Cocker she adores.

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Website: http://www.tijansbooks.com/

Blog Tour – PARENTAL GUIDANCE by Avery Flynn

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“A fantastically fun, HOT love story.” – Kendall Ryan, New York Times bestselling author

Parental Guidance, an all-new, sexy and laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Avery Flynn, is available now!

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All I want is to play hockey on the Ice Knights, instead, I’m in a viral video for all the wrong reasons and my mom—yes, my mom—has taken over my dating apps. Then, when I think it can’t get any worse, the fates deliver Zara Ambrose, a five-feet-nothing redhead with more freckles than inches and who’d rather be anywhere other than on a date with me.

Now a bet with her friends and my PR nightmare have us both stuck in this go-on-five-dates-with-the-same-person hell situation. But if we band together, we can get the whole thing over with and go on with our lives. It’s perfect! No feelings. No future. No fuc— *ahem* fun. No naked fun.

What could go wrong? Nothing—as long as I remember the rules. Don’t notice the way she looks in a dress. Don’t react when she does that little shivery sigh thing whenever we touch. Don’t think about the fact that she’s never had a toe-curling orgasm that wasn’t self-delivered and just how badly I want to change that.

Five dates—that’s it—and then we go our separate ways. At least, that was the plan.

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Read Kay’s Review: Parental Guidance

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Excerpt:

“So why are you on Bramble?”

She took another small bite from her roll before answering. “My best friend is blackmailing me, and my dad wants a SAG card.”

That was definitely not the answer he’d been expecting. “And I thought my reasoning was twisted.”

“I’m sure it all makes sense in Gemma’s head,” Zara said. “She thinks I work too much and need to loosen up. She’ll let me be her plus-one to go meet a collector if I do the Bramble five dates thing. And my dad? Well, let’s just say he’s never met an unlikely plan he didn’t think he could pull off.”

All the possibilities this created sped around inside his head until one broke free like a perfect fast break late in the third period when the game was on the line. All he had to do was put the biscuit in the net.

“So neither of us really wants to be here,” he said. “We’re each other’s solution to getting back to our regular lives as soon as possible.”

It was fucking perfect. Petrov’s job with the team would be safe for another season—well, as safe as he could be, considering he didn’t have a no-trade deal in his contract.

Zara, though, didn’t seem to be seeing the genius of it, going by the suspicious look she gave him as she took another bite of her roll. Instead of giving him a straight-up no, though, she started eating. The words—okay, begging pleas—were bubbling up inside him but for once, he kept it in lockdown. He wasn’t about to rush this play, no matter how it had every nerve in his body jinglejangling.

Finally, she used her napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth, straightened her spine, and looked him dead in the eye. “We’d have to have ground rules.”

“Sure. Whatever you want.” Ice Knights season tickets? He’d make that happen. A photo op with her dad’s favorite player? Done. Whatever it took, he’d do it.

“This isn’t a real or fake relationship, it’s a temporary alliance,” she said without an ounce of humor in her tone. “I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend or the random chick you’re banging this week.”

“Agreed.” All of that sounded like it would cause more problems than it would solve anyway. “I’ve got a condition. Dressing up is not required. I’m not putting on a suit.”

The best thing about the off-season was not having to strangle himself with a tie multiple times a week just for a bus ride to the rink or a plane trip to another city. Coach Peppers was old-fashioned about doing things the original way.

“Fine.” Zara held up three fingers. “The third stipulation is that I’m not putting on a good attitude. If it’s been a crappy day, I don’t have to pretend to be a manic pixie dream girl.”

He snorted. “No one who’s met you would believe that. You’re a little salty.” That was putting it mildly based on her attitude when she showed up for their date.

“I have my reasons.” She added another finger, so she was holding up four. “Oh, and no making love. Sex?” She paused and looked him over quickly. “Maybe. Emotional, heartfelt, staring-each-other-in-the-eyes making love? Not gonna happen. No offense, but you’re not my type.”

What the hell? Not her type? He was a professional athlete making millions. He’d been led to believe he was everyone’s type.

“Not a problem, since I don’t think we could see eye to eye while having sex unless you magically grew a foot,” he said.

“You’re not into being creative?” Zara rolled her eyes. “I guess that’s expected for someone who has probably had women throwing themselves at him for years. You haven’t ever had to work for it.”

Caleb had no idea what to say to that. He’d been punched square in the face by the most feared goons in hockey and it hadn’t knocked him as senseless as this little five-foot-nothing of a snarky woman had done with a few choice words.

“I have one more rule,” she said, reaching for another roll. “Five dates and we’re done. Period. Do we have a deal?”

About Avery

USA Today bestselling romance author Avery Flynn has three slightly-wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip.

She fell in love with romance while reading Johanna Lindsey’s Mallory books. It wasn’t long before Avery had read through all the romance offerings at her local library. Needing a romance fix, she turned to Harlequin’s four books a month home delivery service to ease the withdrawal symptoms. That worked for a short time, but it wasn’t long before the local book stores’ staff knew her by name.

Avery was a reader before she was a writer and hopes to always be both. She loves to write about smartass alpha heroes who are as good with a quip as they are with their *ahem* other God-given talents. Her heroines are feisty, fierce and fantastic. Brainy and brave, these ladies know how to stand on their own two feet and knock the bad guys off theirs.

AveryFlynn

Connect with Avery

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