seat L214, one seat over from his at the baseball game, right next to her
douche of a soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. An impromptu kiss for the kiss cam, and
Jax knew his life would never be the same. Five years and a tour in Afghanistan
later, Jax is back stateside running his own private security firm, Iron-Clad,
with his best friend. He isn’t the man he used to be… but Megan isn’t the
sexy and sweet, though sheltered, twenty-two-year-old he left behind, either.
And she’s in trouble.
Megan Cruz has made something
of herself. She’s turned her dreams of pop stardom into a reality. But when a
deadly stalker breaks into her home claiming to be her number-one fan, the only
person she can turn to is the boy who got away. But Jax isn’t the same carefree
charmer who stole her heart, then broke it when he joined the military. This
man is seductive, hard, guarded. And he’ll do anything to protect what’s his.
It”–Nike. And that’s exactly what she did.After working hard as an attorney, Sidney picked up a pen for the first
time at thirty years old to begin her dream of writing. Having never written
anything other than very exciting legal briefs, she found an outlet for her
imaginative, romantic side and wrote Seeing Red. That first pen stroke sealed
the deal, and she fell in love with writing. Sidney lives in South Florida with
her husband and children. She loves her family above all else, and reading
follows a close second. When she’s not writing, you can find her reading and
reading and reading. She’s a reader first and a writer second. When she’s not
writing or reading, her life is complete and utter chaos, trying to balance
family life with work and writing (and reading). But she wouldn’t have it any
Department offers him two choices—mandated therapy for supposed PTSD or a
permanent desk job at the station, he reluctantly agrees to see a shrink. Only
this doctor is unlike anything he expected. Female and curved in all the right
places? Check. Hotter than a four-alarm fire? Check. The kind of woman that can
heat his blood in and out of bed? Check, check. And oh, yeah, he just happens
to have firsthand experience…
Her one-night stand isn’t playing by the rules of just. One. Night. She’s had
her heart broken in the past, and no way is she going there again. And now he’s
blackmailing her into three dates? Well, if that’s what it takes to make him
see a different therapist, fine. She can handle it. So what if the chemistry
between them is combustible? She’s a professional, damn it. She’ll date Mr. I’m
Too Sexy For My Bunker Pants. But it won’t end in the fun he expects.
It’s time to see how much heat this fireman can take…
“Sounds like a plan. Actually, it sounds like a date. Our second official one, to be exact.”
Olivia chuckled. “What are you talking about? We’ve had dozens of dates.”
“On the contrary, Dr. Jones, watching movies and hooking up at our respective apartments is not a proper date. Attending a party at your parents’ house, however, is definitely a date-type thing.”
“But my parents won’t even be there.”
“What about your godfather?”
A slow smile curved her lips. “Yes, I suppose Uncle Eddie and Aunt Tish will be in attendance.”
“There, you see? Anything that includes your family and my therapist is definitely an official date.” Erik gave her a sly grin and crowded her into the corner where the equipment lockers met the wall. “Come on, humor me. Calling it a date makes me feel like I’m not only a piece of meat being used for my body.”
“Fine,” she said with an exaggerated sigh and roll of those sexy hazel eyes. “It’ll officially be our second date. But just so we’re clear, I am only using you for your body.”
Peering up at him coyly through the dark fringe of her lashes, Olivia placed a single manicured nail at the hollow of his throat and dragged it down the center of his body. The muscles of his torso flexed and shuddered in its wake, shooting signals to his cock and balls that it was time to play. Thankfully, he still had a small supply of blood in his brain that prevented him from hauling her into his office and fucking her over his desk. Christ, that’s getting added to the fantasy bucket list. For now, though, he had to postpone the fun until later.
“Oddly enough, I’m very okay with being your boy toy, and I encourage you to get as much use out of me as you can. Now, I don’t know if you know this, but I also happen to be a firefighter. So if you’ve got any hot spots you need checked, I’d be more than happy to bring my hose by later and check them out thoroughly.”
“Mmm, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day. You’re such a do-gooder, Lieutenant Grady.”
“Just doing my civic duty, ma’am. But you better get out of here before I decide you need to take the afternoon off so I can do some initial inspections.”
Laughing, she bussed him on the lips quickly and ducked under his arm, giving him a sexy wink before leaving him with the biggest hard-on that’d ever graced the firehouse gym. Fuck me. Time for a cold shower.
scathing hatred of snow and cold weather. An avid romance novel addict, she
began writing as an alternate way of enjoying the romance stories she loves to
read. Her debut novel, Seducing Cinderella, hit both the USA Today and New York
Times bestseller lists in less than four weeks, and she’s been living her
newfound dream ever since.
at Scrabble (and every other game) to her high school sweetheart, doing her
best to hang out with their teenagers before they fly the coop, and dreaming
about her move to sunny Florida once they do.
Fun, flirty, sexy and sweet!
Famous plus-sized model, Addison Williams wants to rebuild her independent life and career after her divorce and she’s in Chicago to focus on just that. She never could have predicted that the seductive eavesdropping voice from her next door hotel neighbor would go from one sexy faceless and nameless evening to adventurous shenanigans and then some.
NHL cup-winning right winger Ford Callahan didn’t tell his brother he was arriving in Chicago a couple of days early to be alone with his demons. Turns out he wasn’t as alone as he thought. As he hears women’s laughter coming from the next door balcony, he can’t help but want to know what they were talking about. As the saucy conversation ends and the owner of the sexiest voice he’s ever heard calls him out from the darkness on his eavesdropping, their anonymous flirtation turns into a night they won’t soon forget.
Unwilling to let her slip through his fingers, Ford is determined to find her. But will he pursue her and risk his career once he finds out she’s his boss’ ex?
“Straight talk is a virtue. Dirty talk is a g*ddamn blessing.”
One of the reasons I love reading books by Kate Meader is that she always makes me smile. I was grinning like a loon by the first few pages with Ford’s snooping mischief and shameless flirtatiousness, fanning myself by chapter two and halfway in love with him by chapter four. He wanted a relationship with a meaningful connection and he knew it would be with Addy pursuing her relentlessly. Addy is equally likeable and I loved their banter, chemistry and relationship development.
“You know what’s between us is crazy, strong, and real. I want to follow that to its logical conclusion.” ~ Ford to Add
I really didn’t want this novella to end. Meader had me completely charmed with this couple and totally on board to read the next book in her series. But with this anthology we do get so much more out of it, as there are 17 other stories by great authors, some I know some I can’t wait to read all for a great price and the added benefit of helping out as 20% of royalties from sales of Hot on Ice will go to Homes for US Troops, a charity that builds specially modified homes for injured veterans.
In Skates Trouble is novella #0.5 and the kickoff to the Chicago Rebels a standalone contemporary romance by Kate Meader. It is a short, hot and easy to read story. Told from both points of view and has a happy ending.
Amazon -> http://amzn.to/2nNpdBZ
* I was given an ARC of this book courtesy of the author. The excerpts are from that copy. I am voluntarily reviewing this title. *
A suspenseful, sweet and sexy, second chance romance.
After their too short-lived but thrilling weekend together they fell in love but were supposed to have a clean break, they didn’t exchange numbers because he’d leave for another tour with the marines and she’d go off to start her law degree. They’d have the fond memory of that perfect bubble in time. Five years later Jax Irons is the proud owner of Iron-Clad Security Firm and while he frequently thought of Megan, he pictured her as a happily married lawyer with 2.5 kids not the super star musician who’s in a danger and needs his help. Can he find a way to save and keep her?
“Promise me, you’ll be happy”
When Mega Cruz thought of him, she remembered the drop dead gorgeous stranger who kissed her at a baseball game because the kiss-cam had focused on her and her detestable boyfriend couldn’t be bothered. She remembered the carefree man who showed her how to live, enjoy life and gave her the nudge she needed to take a risk and live her dreams which turned into Grammy winning fame. But now she’s being stalked by a deranged fan and the only man she trusts to keep her safe is not the relaxed, happy-go-lucky guy she so often thought of. Can she help him remember the man he used to be while playing a deadly game of cat and mouse?
I need to make a confession. I did not look at the title, cover or blurb of this book. I just added it to my to-read list and hopped I could read it soon because it was by Sidney Halston, an author I discovered by chance a couple of years ago and who has unfailingly provided me with great reads ever since. She has now become an automatic one click author for me and I’m so glad I added Kiss Marry Kill to my list and just dove right in.
Halston captured my attention right from the start, setting a suspenseful mood to backdrop the sweet and sexy romance between Jax and Megan. Not only did they have to solve the mystery behind Megan’s stalker, they also have a deep connection and unresolved past, and an incredible amount of chemistry.
Through flashbacks, we get to know their past personas which are very different from their current personalities, their baseball kiss-cam meet-cute, and how those four incredible days together changed their lives. Even though the circumstances of their reunion aren’t great, I really enjoyed their sizzling hot chemistry, the way they got to rediscover each other with a back and forth made me laugh and smile, and how they learned to balance each other.
Although I first wanted to slap her silly for not making sure her house alarm was activated, Megan was a very likeable character as was Jax even though he had big emotional conflicts between wanting Megan and needing to protect her. I also liked getting to know Megan’s two band mates and Jax’ business partners. I can’t wait to read more about them.
“I don’t remember you being so caveman-ish.”
“You have a terrible memory then.”
Kiss Marry Kill is the kickoff book #1 and a great start to the Iron Clad Security series by Sidney Halston. It is a standalone suspenseful contemporary romance. Told from both points of view and has a happy ending.
* I was given an ARC of this book courtesy of the author via NetGalley. The excerpts are from that copy. I am voluntarily reviewing this title. *
Amazon -> http://amzn.to/2mP6x38
workaholic executive seeks “buffer” from annoying outside distractions AKA
people. Free spirits with personal boundary issues, excessive quirks, or
general squeamishness need not apply. Salary negotiable. Confidentiality
Workaholic billionaire Sawyer Carlyle may have joked he needed a “buffer” from their marriage-obsessed mom, but he didn’t need a waiting room filled with “candidates” to further distract him. (Thanks, bro.) But when a sexy job applicant shooes his mom and the socialite in tow out of his office, Sawyer sees the genius of the plan. And the woman. In fact, Miss Clover Lee might just get the fastest promotion in history, from buffer to fake fiancé…
This “free-spirit” might look like hot sunshine and lickable rainbows, but she negotiates like a pitbull. Before Sawyer knows what hit him, he’s agreed to give up Friday nights for reality tv, his Saturdays for flea markets (why buy junk still baffles him), his Tuesdays and Thursdays for “date nights” (aka panty-losing opportunities if he plays his cards right). And now she wants lavender bath salts and tulips delivered every Monday?
Yup, she’s just screwing with him. Good thing she’s got this non-negotiatable six-weeks-and-she’s-gone rule or Sawyer may have just met this match…
Flynn isn’t writing about alpha heroes and the women who tame them, she is
desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. She has three
slightly-wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband and has a slight shoe
addiction. Find out more about Avery on her website, follow her on Twitter,
like her on her Facebook page or friend her on her Facebook profile. Also, if
you figure out how to send Oreos through the Internet, she’ll be your best
friend for life. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org. She’d love to hear
shopping and clubbing is starting to feel a little bit hollow—and a whole lot
lonely. Though Georgie would never admit it, the highlights of her week are the
mornings when she comes home at the same time as her uptight, workaholic
neighbor is leaving to hit the gym and put in a long day at the office. Teasing
him is the most fun Georgie’s had in years—and the fuel for all her naughtiest
spoiled tabloid princesses who spend more time on Page Six than at an actual
job. Although Georgie’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s also everything Andrew
resents: the type of girl who inherited her penthouse instead of earning it.
But after Andrew caps one of their predawn sparring sessions with a surprise
kiss—a kiss that’s caught on camera—all of Manhattan is gossiping about whether
they’re a real couple. And nobody’s more surprised than Andrew to find that the
answer just might be yes.
Let’s talk about five a.m. for a second.
Also known as the worst hour of the day, am I right?
If you’re awake to see five in the freaking morning, it means one of a few things, all of them heinous.
Scenario one: You’re on your way to the airport for an early morning flight. Heinous.
Scenario two: You’ve been out all night, and now your vodka buzz is fading, and you’re just sober enough to realize that the rest of your day will likely involve Excedrin, carbs, and indoor voices. Heinous.
Scenario three: You’ve got a crap-ton on your mind, and you’re lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, hating your life. Maybe hating yourself a little bit, I dunno, who am I to judge? Heinous.
Now brace yourself, because scenario four is the most heinous of them all: You’re awake at five a.m. because you’re an uptight prick whose schedule is even more rigid than your posture, and your life is an endless string of working out, the corner office, repeat. You’re also likely the type of person who subsists on protein shakes and kale smoothies, and you have been known to utter the phrase the body is a temple, thus solidifying what we already knew about you.
You have no friends.
But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.
See, it’s five a.m., and I, Georgie Watkins, am . . . kind of excited about it.
I know. I know. Four months ago I’d have bet my favorite vintage Chanel bag that there was exactly zero chance I’d actually look forward to the ghoulish hour of five in the morning.
And yet here we are.
I guess you could say there’s a scenario five on reasons to be up this early.
“Good morning, Ramon,” I sing, pushing through the revolving doors of the luxury high-rise on 56th and Park, the place I call home.
The concierge/security guard/all-around good guy glances up and gives me a friendly smile. “Ms. Watkins. Good morning.”
Usually the massive front desk is a bustling, busy affair. Starting at around seven, an army of well-dressed concierges will be smoothly facilitating the needs of impatient residents, as tiny dogs let out sharp, high-pitched barks of greeting from their Louis Vuitton carriers.
But that’s later.
Right now, the luxurious lobby is mostly silent, with just the lone overnight guy working the front desk, holding down the fort until the day guys arrive to handle the morning crush.
My new Tory Burch clutch tucked into my armpit, I hold up the box in my hands and waggle my eyebrows. “Brought you something.”
Ramon’s smile grows wider, brown eyes lighting. “My wife says you’re going to make me fat.”
“Tell Marta that the dad bod is totally in style right now,” I say, setting the box of donuts on the counter and lifting the lid. “Unless, of course, you don’t want a maple bacon donut?”
Ramon is already reaching inside the box, shaking his head in reverence as he lifts the sugary treat. “Still warm.”
“Well, technically the shop doesn’t open until five, but I’m such a loyal customer, they let me in a bit early,” I say, surveying the array of donuts and trying to decide if I’m in a chocolate kind of mood or if I want to risk the powdered sugar one.
Since my Alexander McQueen minidress is black (the archnemesis of powdered sugar), I reach for the chocolate as I set my clutch on the counter and fish out my phone: 4:58 a.m.
Two more minutes.
“How’s Marta dealing with the pregnancy of baby number three?” I ask, taking a bite of the donut and shifting attention back to Ramon, who’s already polished off his donut and is contemplating a second. I nudge the box toward him.
“She’s good,” he says. “Excited that we’re finally having a girl.”
“A girl!” I say, reaching across the counter and squeezing his massive forearm. “Congratulations, I hadn’t heard!”
“Just found out yesterday,” he says with a happy smile, apparently deciding that the occasion calls for another donut.
“Oh my gosh, I have the perfect baby gift,” I say, nibbling at a piece of my donut. “I saw this adorable Burberry onesie in Bergdorf’s the other day, with this precious little red bow—”
“Yes, because that’s what every infant needs,” a low voice interrupts. “A four-hundred-dollar piece of fabric that needs to be dry-cleaned. Don’t be ridiculous, Georgiana.”
I don’t have to look at my clock to know what time it is.
On the dot.
Not even bothering to turn around, I roll my eyes as my red nails tear off another piece of donut and pop it into my mouth. “Ramon, do you think you could talk to maintenance about adjusting the temp? It just got a little cold in here.”
Ramon’s been working here long enough to know my request isn’t for real. He’s not even paying attention to me. He’s already set his donut aside and has straightened up, practically saluting the newcomer.
“Mr. Mulroney. Good morning, sir.”
“Mr. Ramirez.” The voice is low and serious, a touch impatient, although not quite rude.
You know that adage that you catch more flies with honey? I’m not so sure it’s true. I bring donuts to the front desk guys just about every morning, and they adore me. I know they do.
But they respect him.
Giving in to the inevitable, I finally let my eyes flick to the side, my gaze colliding with a stern brown scowl.
I put on my widest, sparkliest smile, only because I know it drives him crazy.
As always, I see a muscle in his jaw twitch as I flutter my eyelashes.
“Good morning, Andrew,” I say sweetly.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Only my late grandmother has ever called me that, and I’m pretty sure that’s because I was her namesake. Everyone else calls me Georgie. Well, okay, not everyone. Ramon and the other guys still insist on calling me Ms. Watkins, but I’m working on it. See: daily donuts.
I smile wider and push the box in Andrew’s direction. “Donut?”
His lip curls. In case you haven’t already gotten a read on this guy, he’s the type that sneers at donuts.
He lifts a boring black travel mug. “Already have my breakfast.”
“Blended-up quinoa sprinkled with a few bits of spinach and pretension?” I ask.
“Whey powder protein shake.”
“Sounds immensely satisfying.”
He takes a sip of the nastiness and watches me with cold brown eyes. “The body is a temple, Georgiana.”
There it is.
Full circle to my above commentary about what sort of people are up and about at five a.m.
City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career.
romantic comedies with just enough sexy-times to make your mother blush. In
LL’s ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry
a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books.
This was one fun, flirty and hot read I wasn’t expecting from Catherine Gayle and I was pleasantly surprised! With Defensive Zone, Catherine Gayle gives us a fresh, new feel to the Portland Storm series.
When Cody “Harry” Williams promised coach Webs he would stay away from his baby girl after bailing him out of prison, he didn’t factor in Dani’s tenaciousness nor the intense spark she ignites in him every time she’s near. His family is depending on him to keep his job though, can he resist the sensual forbidden fruit that is Dani Weber?
“I wasn’t in control of anything.
Dani Weber owned me.
She owned ever f*cking inch of me.
And it was too late to do anything about it.”
Failure is not in Dani’s vocabulary. When the vivacious, budding fashion designer sets her sights on something or someone she’s always successful. And this woman wants a fling with the bowtie wearing, sexylicious, seemingly uninterested ginger NHL defenseman. Will she get her man?
“How could she be both cute as a button and sexy as hell in the same moment?”
Dani has liked “Dirty Harry” since she was fourteen, but couldn’t do anything about it. Now that she’s twenty she’s aggressively pursuing the older (ten years her senior) and very reserved Cody Williams. Dani is the embodiment of a young adult. She’s determined, exuberant, vivacious as well as self-centered and impulsive. I understood Cody’s attraction to the former but had a hard time believing the no strings fling she sought could be more than a scorching hot affair. But Catherine skillfully develops Dani’s character into one who by the end uses her energetic personality selflessly.
“There was just something about the way she grabbed life by the horns that drew me in and refused to let me go.”
Poor Cody, nothing seemed to ever go right in his life. From his family life which has was fraught with tragedy and big hurdles to overcome, to his uncertain place with the Portland Storm team, to his unwanted attraction to the daughter of one of his coaches. He does everything to keep his promise to stay away from her. He pushes, lies, avoids, flat out rejects her and even tries to scare her away with his “dirty” secret. The latter completely backfires on him and only makes Dani more resolved to break down his defenses.
These two seem to be completely wrong for each other, but Cody’s steadiness balances Dani’s effervescence. Besides their incendiary chemistry, they’re both good people and once Dani starts to see beyond her wants to Cody’s needs they’re suit each other perfectly. By the end of the book I wanted to read so much more about them.
“I hadn’t realized how much I needed to touch her. Just to hold her. She brought so much peace into my life. She brought her fair share on insanity, too, but there was something soothing about having her in my arms.”
As with all books in this series, the Portland Storm is a big family that supports each other and besides helping out the main couple we also get updates on some of our favorite team members and their lives. Particularly Babs and Katie.
Defensive Zone is book #10 in the Portland Storm series by author Catherine Gayle. This is a light, fun and sexy sports romance that includes all the excitement of the NHL. This is a must read for all Catherine Gayle and hockey romance fans. This is standalone full length novel, told from alternating points of view with a happy ending.
Amazon -> http://amzn.to/2mtNVXT
* I was given an ARC of this book courtesy of the author via PA. The excerpts are from that copy. I am voluntarily reviewing this copy. *