Monthly Archives: June 2013

All Out Of Love by Lori Wilde

All Out Of Love by Lori Wilde

Publication date: June 25, 2013

<div style=”font-size:11px”>Publication date: 05/01/2013</div>Cupid Texas #2
Published by Avon Books
Pages: 369

Back of the Book

The newest Cupid, TX romance, from the author of The First Love Cookie Club and the Jubilee, TX novels…

Football star Pierce Hollister has fame, fortune, and beautiful women who’ll do anything for him…whether he asks them to or not. But when it all comes crashing down, Pierce finds himself back home, running the ranch in Cupid, Texas, wondering how it all went wrong.

But one thing is right: Lace Bettingfield. The former plain-Jane has turned into luscious knock-out—trouble is, she won’t even give him the time of day no matter how many passes he makes.

Being in love with your older brother’s best friend is awkward enough, and Pierce was the cause of Lace’s most embarrassing high school moment ever when her secret letter to him declaring her love landed right on the front page of the school newspaper! Pierce is still as stubborn, sexy, and arrogant as ever…but Lace is about to see that things aren’t always as they seem…especially when it comes to love.

Read an Excerpt

PROLOGUE

 


Millie Greenwood High School, Cupid, Texas, May 25th 2001

 Dear Cupid,

I am crazy in love with my older brother’s best friend, Pierce Hollister! You should see him in his gym shorts when he’s out on the football field running sprints. OMG, he’s got the most amazing thighs. Of course that’s nothing compared to the way his butt looks in Wranglers. Be still my pounding heart!
 

And his eyes! Blue as the ocean.

 

He made direct eye contact with me once. It was a moment I will never, ever forget until my dying day. I’d dropped my books in the crowded hallway and I was fumbling to pick them up, when suddenly, out of nowhere, I see a pair of black cowboy boots and a hand reaching out to help me.

 

I looked up and it was him!

 

I got tingly all over and honest to God, I thought I was going to die right there on the spot! This is no ordinary boy. He’s the quarterback of the football team! He dates cheerleaders! His daddy owns the biggest rancher in Jeff Davis County and here he was helping me!

 

And I’m nobody. I’m pudgy (Mama calls me fluffy) and I wear glasses and I stutter. I’ve had speech therapy, but I still can’t speak without stammering and that is in a relaxed atmosphere. Believe me there was nothing relaxed about this. Every muscle in my body was tuned as tight as the strings on a concert violin and I couldn’t have said a word if my life depended on it.

 

His eyes met mine and he smiled.

 

Smiled! At me!

 

“Here you go,” he said, handing me my biology book (it had to be biology, didn’t it?) and our knuckles brushed. I don’t know how I kept from bursting into flames. “Have a nice day.”

 

And then he was gone, leaving his heavenly sunshine and leather scent lingering behind, as I stared after him with my mouth gaping open.

 

Pierce Hollister had smiled and touched my hand and said seven whole words. To me!

 

I have no chance with him. I know that. He’s a senior. I’m a freshman. He’s handsome as a movie star. Way out of my league. He’s filet mignon and I’m day-old bread. Okay, so I am a direct descendant of Millie Greenwood, but so are practically half the people in this town. It’s not a unique claim to fame.

 

It’s silly of me to wish and pine, I know. But Cupid, I just can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how much I try. Every night before I go to sleep, I imagine what it would feel like if he were holding me tight against his muscled chest, our hearts beating in perfect time together. Beating as if we were one.

 

That’s why I’m writing to you, Cupid. I’m miserable with love for him. I want him to love me back so badly that I can barely breathe. Please, Cupid, please let Pierce Hollister fall in love with me. I know I’ll have to wait for him. I am only fourteen after all and he’s got a girlfriend and a football scholarship to the University of Texas next year, but one day? Someday? Please!

 

–Yours in total despair, Hopelessly Tongue Tied

 
Lace Bettingfield stood frozen in freshman homeroom, half in the doorway, half out of it with her backpack slung over one shoulder.

 
Seated in front of her were seventeen students, and every single one of them was reading the current issue of the school newspaper, The Cupid Chronicle.

 
Ominously, hairs on the nape of her neck stood up.

 
The fact that everyone was reading—including the stoners and the jocks—was odd enough, but when they all looked up at her with what seemed to be perfectly choreographed smirks, Lace’s stomach took the express elevator to her Skechers.

 
In a split second, her gaze darted to the student nearest her. It was Toby Mercer, her biology lab partner.

 
Toby was six-foot-six, and weighed the same as Lace, a hundred and sixty-two pounds; on him the weight was gaunt, on her it was zaftig. He possessed strawberry blond hair and skin so pale it had earned the nickname Casper way back in kindergarten. She’d known him her entire life. His family lived just down the block from hers. She’d comforted him when kids had picked on him. They’d attended each other’s birthday parties. They’d dissected frogs together.

 
But right now, Toby was looking at her all narrow-eyed and smug, like she was a dilapidated barn and he was a wrecking ball.

 
She flicked her eyes from Toby’s face to the paper that he held in his hand and there it was.

 
Dear Cupid.

I am crazy in love with Pierce Hollister!

 
It was the letter she’d written to Cupid, her private letter that had never been meant for anyone’s eyes but her own, printed on the front page of the school newspaper!

 
Her letter. Front page. Declaring her love for Pierce.

 
How? How had this happened?

 
Unlike the tourists who came to Cupid, wrote letters to the Roman god of love and deposited them in the special letter box in the botanical gardens, (expecting them to be answered by the town’s volunteers and published in the weekly Cupid Chamber of Commerce circular) Lace had never intended for anyone to see this letter.

 
She’d written it in study hall three days earlier as she gazed out the window, watching the football team practice. She carefully folded the letter and tucked it into her side pocket of her notebook with every intention of burning it in the patio chiminea that weekend when her parents were out of town.

 
Reality hit her like a fist to the face.

 
Mary Alice.

 

Mary Alice Fant, her second cousin, who was also editor of The Cupid Chronicle. Pierce had recently dumped her for the head cheerleader, Desiree Hartford. Two nights ago, Mary Alice and her parents had come over to Lace’s house for dinner and at one point, Lace had caught Mary Alice snooping around in her bedroom.

 
Oh, God!

 
Now, everyone knew her about secret crush. Her life was ruined. Nausea splashed hot bile into her throat. Her entire body flushed hot as August in the Chihuahuan desert.

 
One heartbeat later, and the class erupted into a feeding frenzy.

 
“Do you imagine she calls out Pierce’s name when she’s touching herself?” sniggered Booth Randal, a smart-assed stoner who spent the bulk of his time in detention.

 
“P…pa…pa…pa…Pierce,” another boy stuttered in a fake falsetto, “Yo…yo…yo…you…ma…ma…make me so hot.”

 
Moaning and breathing heavily, the two boys pretended to kiss and fondle each other, while the other students hurled derisive catcalls like stones.

 
“Poor me,” wailed Tasha Stuart, whose mother worked in the teller cage next to Lace’s at Cupid National Bank. “I’m sooo in love with the most popular boy in school and he doesn’t know I exist.”

 
“Who knows,” someone else called out. “She might stand a chance. Pierce could be a closet chubby chaser.”

 
“Na…na…na…not unless she can sta…sta…stop stutt…stutt…stuttering.” Toby stabbed her in the back.

 
“Yeah, who wants a girl whose tongue is hopelessly tied?”

 
“One day. Someday.”

 
“Please, Cupid, please, please, please.”

 
The words slapped her harder than any physical blow. She knew these people. Was related to some of them. Had thought many of them were her friends, but they’d turned on her like hyenas.

 
The only one who looked at her with anything other than ridicule, was Pierce’s younger brother Malcolm. He slunk down in his seat, pulled his collar up, sunk his chin to his chest, and kept his eyes trained on his hands folded atop his desk. He was embarrassed for her humiliation.

 
Blindly, Lace spun on her heels, and almost crashed into the teacher, Mr. Namon.

 
He put up his palms, “Whoa slow down, what’s going on here Miss Bettingfield?”

 
Head ducked Lace shoved past him, and fled down the corridor.

 
But there was no sanctuary here.

 
The hallways were lined with students, several of them holding copies of The Cupid Chronicle. Some laughed. Some pointed. Some made lewd gestures. Some threw out more catcalls. A goth girl was slyly singing, “Crush,” a song about a stalker.

 
Everyone was going to think she was a stalker.

 
“Hey, Tongue Tied, drop thirty pounds and maybe you can land your dream man.”

 
“Reality check. No guy like Pierce could ever love someone like you.”

 
“Yes, he touched your hand, but I heard he washed it off in Lysol afterward.”

 
Lace plastered her hands over her ears, willed herself not to cry, but it was too late, tears were already streaming hotly down her cheeks.

 
Nightmare. It was a living nightmare.

 
And just as in a nightmare everything moved in slow motion. It felt as if she was trying to run through knee-deep mud. Her lungs squeezed tight. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to beat right out of her chest.

 
Good. If her heart beat out of her chest she would be dead.

 
It seemed to take hours to traverse that hallway. She kept her head down, didn’t once make eye contact. She was headed for the exit, desperate to find a place to lick her wounds.

 
The morning sun glinted against the metal bar in the middle of the exit door. Almost there. Salvation was just a few steps away. She rushed forward, her legs breaking through the slow-motion morass.

 
Her hand hit the bar and she gave a hard shove.

 
But fate, that vicious bitch, wasn’t done with her yet.

 
The door smacked into something solid. Someone was coming in at the same time she was trying to get out. Trapped. She was trapped. No exit. Knock ‘em down if you have to. Just get the hell out of here.

 
She raised her head and found herself staring into Pierce Hollister’s blue eyes.

 
Her heart literally stopped and a whimper escaped her lips.

 
For Mary Alice to print her letter in the school paper was a horrible betrayal. The bullying by classmates that she thought she knew was unbearable. Breaking down and crying in front of everyone was humiliating, but nothing that had happened to her that morning was as bad as what was written on Pierce’s handsome face.

 Utter, abject pity.





My Review:

5/5 – Since I don’t have a 4.5 rating I am giving a 5 but feel it should be 4.5

Highly recommend this book.
Lace Bettingfield had a crush on Football star Pierce Hollister back in high school.  She wrote a letter to cupid about it and the letter gets into the school newspaper.      
12 years later Lace is back in town working at the Botanical Gardens in Cupid. 
Pierce is back in town as his father is sick and he broke his leg in a super bowl football game.  He is supposed to be doing PT so he can get back to football.
Pierce is suddenly everywhere Lace is and she is wondering if he is stalking her….
Lace is trying hard to fight her attraction to Pierce because he wants to go back and play football again.  So if she falls for him again she will be left behind and alone as she wants to stay in Cupid.  If he goes back to playing football will she be okay with that?
Pierce is trying to get Lace to believe that he wants her.  She thinks he wants her because she around. 
They are funny and have great chemistry together.  Lace is witty and tends to throw off Pierce with her comebacks. 
Pierce has a bet going with his brother that he will plant the best crap of pumpkins for the town.
Love the flower references instead of sometimes cursing!!!
Also love the Football/Flower words they throw back and forth.
 
 
In the end will we find out the below?
What exactly is wrong with Pierce & Malcolm’s father?
Will Pierce win the bit against his brother?

Will Pierce play football again?

 

A few of my favorite lines from the book:

But fate, that vicious bitch, wasn’t done with her yet.

“You keep a tool for breaking into cars in your toolbox? How very gangster of you.”

Wow. Way to make a guy feel like a balloon in a cactus patch and yet, he couldn’t seem to stop with the innuendo. “I’d love to give you a spark.”

 “Ouch.” Playfully, he rubbed his arm. “You can pull in your claws, kitten.”

“Don’t pussyfoot around, Auntie. I’m a rip-the-Band-Aid-off-quick kind of person.”

“Well, you do have a sense of humor. I’ll grant you that.  Go ahead and give me your number.  If he’s interested, he’ll call.  If he doesn’t call, well, shooger, you have to face the truth. He’s just not that into you.”

A grin split his face and he cupped a hand around the ear closest to her. “Excuse me. I didn’t quite catch that. Did I hear you say that you need me? Why didn’t you say so”? Just let me gallop home and get a condom and I’ll be at your service.”

“With all the provocative terms is it any wonder that football players have such reputations as sex machines?” she observed.

She couldn’t help laughing. “Plant sex.”

 

Contact Info for Lori Wilde

Twitter – @LoriWilde

 

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Filed under Avon Books, Cupid Texas, Lori Wilde, Review, Romance

Being Me by Lisa Renee Jones

 

Being Me by Lisa Renee Jones

Publication date: June 2013

<div style=”font-size:11px”>Publication date: 05/01/2013</div>Inside Out Trilogy #2
Published by Gallery Books
Pages: 351


NOW OPTIONED TO STARZ for TV!

The sexy second installment in the Inside Out erotic romance trilogy, following If I Were You—in the seductive tradition of Fifty Shades of Grey.

Fascinated by the dark fantasies in the journals she’s discovered, and the two men who have now found a place in her life, Sara McMillan finds herself torn between her new life and her past. Now, more than ever, Sara identifies with the lost journal writer, Rebecca, and is certain that something sinister has happened.

In the arms of the sexy, tormented artist Chris Merit, Sara seeks answers about Rebecca and ends up discovering things about herself she never knew existed. Chris forces Sara to reconsider who she is and what she truly wants from life, but not before his dark desires threaten to tear them apart. Her boss, Mark Compton, offers her the shelter to understand just what those needs mean to her, and what they might have meant to Rebecca, but can she trust him to lead her to a final conclusion to Rebecca’s story?

He is rich and famous, and dark in ways I shouldn’t find intriguing but I do. I so do. I don’t understand why his dark side appeals to me, but the attraction between us is rich with velvety promises of satisfaction. . . .

In the bestselling style of Fifty Shades of Grey, Lisa Renee Jones delivers sexy thrills and heart-pounding sensuality with a tantalizing page-turner in which the eyes of a high school English teacher are opened to a world she never knew existed, and she finds a passionate craving within that she never knew she possessed.

The journal comes to Sara McMillan by chance, when she inherits the key to an abandoned storage locker belonging to a woman named Rebecca. Sara can’t resist peeking at the entries in the journal . . . and she finds a scintillating account of Rebecca’s affair with an unnamed lover, a relationship drenched in ecstasy and wrapped in dark secrets.

Obsessed with discovering Rebecca’s destiny after the entries come to an abrupt end, Sara does more than observe the players in the woman’s life; she immerses herself in the high-stakes art gallery world Rebecca inhabited—and is magnetically drawn to two men. Which one seduced Rebecca with his masterful and commanding touch and brought her fantasies to exquisite life? On a daringly erotic escapade, Sara follows Rebecca’s path to fulfill her own hidden longings. But after she tastes the forbidden pleasures Rebecca savored, will Sara be helpless to escape the same submissive fate?


Back of the Book

I arch into him, drinking in his passion, instantly, willingly consumed by all that he is and could be to me. . . .

Sara McMillan is still searching for Rebecca, the mysterious woman whose dark, erotic journal entries both enthralled and frightened her. Tormented by a strong desire to indulge the demands of her new boss while also drawn deeper into her passionate bond with the troubled artist, Chris Merit, Sara must face a past as deeply haunting as Rebecca’s written words. In one man’s arms, Sara will find the safe haven to reveal her most intimate secrets and explore her darkest fantasies. But is safety just an illusion, when the truth about Rebecca has yet to be discovered?


Read an Excerpt

The idea that I’ve convinced myself he is less controlling than he is has my heels colliding heavily on the driveway. I charge toward his car, the same car I’ve let myself drive instead of holding on to my own identity. I don’t look his direction but damn him, I can feel him all over, everywhere, inside and out, and in intimate places I can’t convince my body he isn’t welcome. It’s beyond frustrating to know that anger this potent isn’t enough to stop the thrum of awareness that just being near him creates.

Not for the first time, I feel Rebecca’s words from that first jour- nal entry I’d read deep in my soul. He was lethal, a drug I feared. I relate to her, and I understand the inescapable passion she felt and lost herself inside. I don’t want to be her. I’m not her. And for the first time since my initial first few encounters with this man, I wonder if I am drawn to him because I’m self-destructive, and he to me for the same reason.

Suddenly he is there, at eye level, as he had been the first night we’d met, when I’d spilled my purse. My gaze lifts and meets his, and a blast of awareness shakes me to the core. My breasts are heavy, my thighs achy. My skin tingles. A fine line between love and hate, Alvarez had said, and I understand them in this moment. I stare into his eyes and I wonder if he too is thinking about the night we met and the many ways we’ve made love.The many we have not and I want us to, when I should not. I should be seeking space, independence, and my own identity, which he is threatening by taking over my life. It makes no sense how I feel in these eternal moments. How can I be this furious with him and still powerfully, completely lost in him?

 “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?” he asks, breaking the spell. His tone is low, and the rasp of anger in his voice is impossible to miss. It jolts me back to reality. He showed up at my client’s house and he’s angry with me?

My temper overpowers all other emotions in me and I reach for the key. His hand closes over mine and heat races up my arm and over my chest.“Don’t do what you did tonight ever again, Sara.”

The sharp command in his voice hits a bull’s-eye on every physiological male dominance issue I own, of which there are many. I try to pull my hand back but I am captive to his grip, leaving me with words as my only weapon.“Ditto to you. And yeah.We have a lot to talk about—somewhere other than my client’s front yard.”

His eyes glint fire a moment before he releases my hand and helps me to my feet.There is a possessiveness to his touch that has me leaning into him when I should be shoving him away. He notices, too; I see it in the slight narrowing of his eyes, the gleam of satisfaction in their depths that I both hunger for and reject.

“I’ll follow you to my place,” he informs me.

“I have no doubt you will.” I click the key clicker to unlock the car. I’m about to open the door when his hand comes down on it, and he leans close, so close his breath is warm on my neck and ear. That woodsy scent of him, which I could luxuriate in for a lifetime, permeates my senses, tearing down my already weak defenses.

His hip nudges mine.“Don’t think for a minute that when we pull up to my apartment, you’re going to ask for your car and leave.”

It is all I can do to fight him when he touches me. Purposely, I do not look at him, certain all my resolve to distance myself from him will crumble.“If I decide to leave, you can’t stop me.”

“Try me, baby.You’re coming up to my apartment.”

I whirl on him.“I don’t want—”

 “I do,” he vows, and before I know his intent, his fingers twine into my hair and he pulls me into his arms, against his hard, warm body.

“Let go,” I hiss, my hand flattening on his chest. I intend to push him away, but the heat of his body seeps through my palm, radiating up my arm. My elbow softens, and I am instantly closer but not close enough.

“Not a chance,” he promises, his mouth closing on mine, firm with demand. His tongue licks into my mouth with one brutal, commanding swipe followed by another, and I have no resistance left. I’m weak, so very weak, for this man. As always with him, he demands my response and I helplessly respond. I am instantly wet and wanting, my nipples tight points of aching need.


 



My Review:

5/5 – Since I don’t have a 4.5 rating I am giving a 5 but feel it should be 4.5

4.5 big Super stars
This is NOT a stand-alone book, you need to read book #1 of Lisa Renee Jones’s Inside Out series, IF I WERE YOU.


As with most trilogies you will have questions that are not answered in the first book and might not be answered until the last one.  Please try having some to be patience!!!


This book was written as present tense and in first person POV.   Makes it easier to figure out what is happening in the past (with Rebecca’s journal entries) and the present.

BEING ME picks up right where IF I WERE YOU left us hanging…finally an answer to what happened to Sara in the storage facility!   The lights are out and Sara is about to hyperventilate as she hears things and think at any moment she will be grabbed. 

She manages to escape in one piece only to have Chris come to her rescue.  After that scare she will need to be more careful in trying to discover more information as we are not sure where the danger is coming from.  Is the danger from Rebecca being missing or from something in Sara’s past?

“Woman—”

“Save your commands for another more enticing time, Chris. I’m not staying in the car. Haven’t you watched Friday the 13th? Michael slashes the girl in the car.”

“Michael is from Halloween. Jason is Friday the 13th.”

“Whoever he is, he slashes the girl in the car. I’m not staying in the car.”

There is a lot of back and forth between Chris and Sara.  You learn more about each of their pasts.  How it shaped them into who they are today.  The problem is that you feel that Chris’s information is dragged out of him where Sara will share hers.  Makes them have a lot of hurt feelings, untrustworthiness, and pain in the relationship.   

She continues to work with Mark in the gallery even as she is aware that he wants her.  The tension between them evolves throughout the book.  With it finally coming to a head when she is hurting over Chris’s leaving her to deal with his pain in his own way.      

As for Rebecca you find out part of what happened to her and who is responsible.  Also who feels they are responsible for what happened to her. 

We also wonder what has happened to Sara’s friend Ella.  Where is she and why is she not getting in touch with Sara. 

As for the ending what will Sara decide? 

 



Here are a few I can’t wait for answers on:

Will she go to Paris with Chris?
Where is Ella?
What exactly happened to Rebecca?

I can’t wait for the next book in the series REVEALING US which comes out in September 2013.

 
A Few of my favorite lines from Ava/Sara/Chris/Mark/Ricco from the book:

Ava:

Not only is he a jerk, but he has the sexual expertise of a Gummi Bear.

Sara:

 
I lash out. “We’ve has this conversation, Chris.  Fucking me does not give you the right to run my life.

Everything Chris does is as raw and real as the pain he struggles to bury in some deep, dark cavern of his soul.  And I dread the moment he discovers just how notperfect I am.
“I know.  The problem is that everything you tell me is because you’re forced to tell me- not because you choose to tell me.  You never fully trust me.”

Chris: 


“Is that what we’re back to, Sara? I’m fucking you? Is that where last night took us again? Why you are all over me in a parking lot?

Because if you want me to fuck you, I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember your damn name and you never forget mine.”

Baby, the ways I’m going to fuck you are too many to count, but not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to make love to you.

“I’m going to own you, body and soul. I will bind you. I will fuck your ass. Your mouth. I will do what I want. And none of this even comes close to where I’ve been and where I will never take you.”

“Good.” He breathes out and I feel the relief wash over him even through the phone line. “Because it would suck to feel like this alone.”

Mark:

“I go for what I want but I respect certain limits.  Tell me you belong to him and I’ll back off.”


“I caused this, and I almost did the same thing to you.  I would have, if not for Chris.  You and I both know it’s true.  Go home, Sara. Get as far away from me as you can.”

Ricco Alvarez:

“Men like Mark do not need machetes to dice your independence and self-respect. They mind-fuck you.”

 

Contact Info for Lisa Renee Jones

Twitter – @LisaReneeJones




A few pics – enjoy:

 
 
 
 
 
 

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Filed under Gallery Books, Inside Out Trilogy, Lisa Renee Jones, Review, Romance

It Had to Be You By Jill Shalvis

It Had to Be You By Jill Shalvis

Publication date: May 28, 2013

<div style=”font-size:11px”>Publication date: 05/01/2013</div>Lucky Harbor Series #7
Published by Grand Central Publishing
Pages: 344


Back of the Book


Ali Winters is not having a good day. Her boyfriend left her, everyone in town thinks she’s a thief, and now she’s about to be kicked out of her home. Her only shot at keeping a roof over her head and clearing her name is to beg for help from a police detective who’s as sexy as he is stern….


After a high-profile case goes wrong, Luke Hanover returns to his hometown for some peace and quiet. Instead he finds a bombshell brunette in a heap of trouble. As he helps Ali put her world back together, the pieces of Luke’s own life finally seem to fall into place. Is this the start of a sizzling fling? Or are Luke and Ali on the brink of something big in a little town called Lucky Harbor?

Read an Excerpt

She did her best to appear as though she hadn’t just been sitting in an interrogation room for hours being questioned about a crime she hadn’t committed. But as it turned out, the pretense was far too much for her overloaded emotions, and she closed her eyes, trying to disappear into the seat. If she disappeared, then he couldn’t see her fall apart.

“You okay?” he asked.


Her throat tightened further, and she shook her head. Nope. Not okay. Not even close. “Don’t,” she said.


“Don’t what?”

“Don’t be nice to me right now. I’ll lose it.”

With surprising gentleness, he pushed the hair from her face, then clicked open her seatbelt.

It was all the invitation she was going to get, and all the invitation she needed. Turning to him, she burrowed in as steady, strong arms closed around her. He stroked a hand down her back, and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, soaking in the warm comfort he offered.

It was the safest and most secure she’d felt in far too long and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to let go.

“Ali.”

Afraid he was going to pull away before she was done soaking him in, she squirmed a little closer. “Please not yet.”

He tightened his grip. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”


Thank God. For just this one second, someone had her.

 



My Review

 

5/5



Totally love this book could not put it down.  Luke just wants to be alone.  Ali just wants to clear her name. 


The book opens up with Ali Winters finding out her boyfriend, Teddy is a cheater.  The following morning she awakes to being dumped via text message where he also lets her know she has no place to live as he didn’t renew the lease.   


Enter Detective Lieutenant Luke Hanover of the San Francisco Police department.  On leave from his job he will share the house (which is his late Grandmothers) with Ali.  The chemistry between these two is super hot. 

They must solve the mystery of the missing money as Ali’s boyfriend is accusing her of taking to get back at him dumping her.    

 
Love Jill’s brand of sarcasm and witty fun.  Keeps the pages turning.  

  

About the Author:

New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s bestselling, award-winning books wherever romances are sold and visit her website for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.

You can learn more at:

 JillShalvis.com

 Twitter @jillshalvis

 Facebook.com/jillshalvis

 

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Filed under Grand Central Publishing, Jill Shalvis, Lucky Harbor Series, Review, Romance

If I Were You By Lisa Renee Jones

If I Were You by Lisa Renee Jones

Publication date: March 2013

<div style=”font-size:11px”>Publication date: 05/01/2013</div>Inside Out Trilogy #1
Published by Gallery Books
Pages: 340

When Sara McMillan finds a stack of journals in a storage unit, she’s shocked and enthralled by the erotic life the writer led. Unable to stop reading, she vicariously lives out dark fantasies through Rebecca, the writer—until the terrifying final entry.

Certain something sinister has happened, Sara sets out to discover the facts, immersing herself in Rebecca’s life. Soon she’s working at the art gallery Rebecca worked at and meeting Rebecca’s friends. Finding herself drawn to two dangerously sexy men, the manager of the gallery and a famed artist, Sara realizes she’s going down the same path Rebecca took. But with the promise of her dark needs being met by a man with confident good looks and a desire for control, she’s not sure anything else matters. Just the burn for more

Back of the Book

He is rich and famous, and dark in ways I shouldn’t find intriguing but I do. I so do. I don’t understand why his dark side appeals to me, but the attraction between us is rich with velvety promises of satisfaction. . . .

In the bestselling style of Fifty Shades of Grey, Lisa Renee Jones delivers sexy thrills and heart-pounding sensuality with a tantalizing page-turner in which the eyes of a high school English teacher are opened to a world she never knew existed, and she finds a passionate craving within that she never knew she possessed.

The journal comes to Sara McMillan by chance, when she inherits the key to an abandoned storage locker belonging to a woman named Rebecca. Sara can’t resist peeking at the entries in the journal . . . and she finds a scintillating account of Rebecca’s affair with an unnamed lover, a relationship drenched in ecstasy and wrapped in dark secrets.

Obsessed with discovering Rebecca’s destiny after the entries come to an abrupt end, Sara does more than observe the players in the woman’s life; she immerses herself in the high-stakes art gallery world Rebecca inhabited—and is magnetically drawn to two men. Which one seduced Rebecca with his masterful and commanding touch and brought her fantasies to exquisite life? On a daringly erotic escapade, Sara follows Rebecca’s path to fulfill her own hidden longings. But after she tastes the forbidden pleasures Rebecca savored, will Sara be helpless to escape the same submissive fate?

Read an Excerpt

One

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Dangerous.

For months I’ve had dreams and nightmares about how perfectly he personifies the word. Sleep-laden, alternate realities where I can vividly smell his musky male scent, feel his hard body against mine. Taste the sweet and sensuous flavor of him—like milk chocolate with its silky demand that I indulge in one more bite. And another. So good I’d forgotten there’s a price for overindulgence. And there is a price. There is always a price. I was reminded of this life lesson on Saturday night. And I know now, no matter what he says, no matter what he does, I cannot—will not—see him again.

It started out as any other erotic adventure with him. Unpredictable. Exciting. I barely remember where it all went wrong. How it took such a dark turn.

He’d ordered me to undress and sit on the mattress, against the headboard, my legs spread wide for his viewing. Naked before him, open to him, I was vulnerable and quivering with need. Never in my life had I taken orders from a man; most certainly I had never thought I would quiver with anything. But I did for him.

If Saturday night proved anything, it was that once I was with him, under his spell, he could demand anything of me, and I’d comply. He could push me to the edge, to unbelievable places I’d never thought I would go. Exactly why I can’t see him again. He makes me feel possessed, and what is so disconcerting about this feeling is that I like it. I can hardly wrap my mind around allowing such a thing, though I burn for it. But when I saw him standing at the end of the bed Saturday night, all broad and thick with sinewy muscle, his cock jutting forward, there was nothing but that need.

He was magnificent. Really, truly the most gorgeous man I’ve ever known. Instant lust exploded inside me. I wanted to feel him close to me, to feel him touch me. To touch him. But I know now not to touch him without his permission. And I know not to beg him to let me.

I’ve learned my lesson from past encounters. He enjoys the vulnerability of a plea far too much. Enjoys withholding his pleasures until I am nearly quaking with the burn of my body. Until I am liquid heat and tears. He likes that power over me. He likes full control. I should hate him. Sometimes, I think I love him.

It was the blindfold that should have warned me I was headed toward a place of no return. Thinking back, I believe it did. He tossed it on the bed, a dare, and instantly a shiver chased a path up and down my spine. The idea of not being able to see what was happening to me should have aroused me—it did arouse me. But for reasons I didn’t understand at the time, it also frightened me. I was scared and I hesitated.

This did not please him. He told me so, in that deep, rich, baritone voice that makes me quiver uncontrollably. The need to please him had been so compelling. I put on the blindfold.

I was rewarded by the shift of the mattress. He was coming to me. Soon I knew I would come, too. His hands slid possessively up my calves, over my thighs. And damn him, stopped just before my place of need.

What came next was a shadowy whirlwind of sensation. He pulled me to my back, flat against the mattress. I knew satisfaction was seconds away. Soon he would enter me. Soon I would have what I needed. But to my distress, he moved away.

It was then that I was sure I’d heard the click of a lock. It jolted me to a sitting position, and I called out his name, fearful he was leaving. Certain that I’d done something wrong. Then relieved when his hand flattened on my stomach. I’d imagined the sound of the lock. I must have. But I couldn’t shake the subtle shift in the air then, the raw lust and menace consuming the room that didn’t feel like him. It was a thought easily forgotten when he settled heavy between my thighs, his strong hands lifting my arms over my head, his breath warm on my neck—his body heavy, perfect.

Somehow, a silk tie wrapped around my wrists and my arms were tied to the bed frame. It never occurred to me that he could not have done this on his own. That he was on top of me, unable to manipulate my arms. But then, he was manipulating my body, my mind, and I was his willing victim.

He lifted his body from mine, and I whimpered, unable to reach for him. Again silence. And the whisk of fabric. More strange sounds. Long seconds ticked by, and I remember the chill that snaked across my skin. The feeling of dread that had balled in my stomach.

And then, the moment I know I will die remembering. The moment when the steel of a blade touched my lips. The moment that he promised there was pleasure in pain. The moment when the blade traveled along my skin with the proof he would be true to his words. And I knew then that I had been wrong. He was not dangerous. Nor was he chocolate. He was lethal, a drug, and I feared . . .

A knock on my apartment door jolts me from the seductive words of the journal I’ve been reading to the point I darn near toss the notebook over my shoulder. Guiltily, I slam it shut and set it back on the simple oak coffee table where it had been left by my neighbor and close friend Ella Ferguson the night before. I hadn’t meant to read it. It was just . . . there. On my table. Absently, I’d opened it, and I’d been so shocked at what I found that I hadn’t believed it could really be my sweet, close friend Ella’s writing. So I’d kept reading. I couldn’t stop reading, and I don’t know why. It makes no sense. I, Sara McMillan, am a high school teacher, and I do not invade people’s privacy, nor do I enjoy this kind of reading. I’m still telling myself that as I reach the door, but I can’t ignore the burn low in my belly.

I pause before greeting my visitor and rest my hands on my cheeks, certain they’re flaming red, hoping whoever is here will just go away. I promise myself if they do, I won’t read the journal again, but deep down, I know the temptation will be strong. Good Lord, I feel like Ella seemed to feel when living out the scene in the journal—like I am the one hanging on for one more titillating moment and then another. Clearly, twenty-eight-year-old women are not supposed to go eighteen months without sex. The worst part is that I’ve invaded the privacy of someone I care about.

Another knock sounds, and I concede that, nope, my visitor is not going away. Inwardly, I shake myself and tug at the hem of the simple light blue dress I still wear from today’s final tenth-grade English class of the summer. I inhale and open the door to have a cool blast of San Francisco’s year-round chilly night air tease the loose strands of my long brunette hair that have fallen from the twist at my nape. Thankfully, it also cools my feverishly hot skin. What is wrong with me? How has a journal affected me this intensely?

Without awaiting an invitation, Ella rushes past me in a whiff of vanilla-scented perfume and red bouncing curls.

“There it is,” Ella says, snatching up her journal from the coffee table. “I thought I’d left it here when I came by last night.”

I shut the door, certain my cheeks are flaming again with the knowledge that I now know more about Ella’s sex life than I should. I still don’t know what made me open that journal, what made me keep reading. What makes me, even now, want to read more.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I say, wishing I could pull back the lie the instant it’s issued. I don’t like lies. I’ve known my share of people who’ve told them, and I know how damaging they can be. I really don’t like how easily this one slipped from my lips. This is Ella, after all, who in the past year as my neighbor has become my confidante, the younger sister I’d never had. Together we are the family neither of us has or, rather, neither of us wishes to claim. Uncomfortably, I ramble onward, a bad habit brought out by nerves, and guilt, apparently. “Long day of classes,” I add, “and I had piles and piles of paperwork to finish up for the summer. Lucky you got to avoid that this year, though I had some great kids I enjoyed.” I purse my lips and tell myself I’ve said enough, only to find I can’t help but continue. “I only just got home a few minutes ago.”

“Well, thank goodness you have some time off now,” Ella says, lifting the journal. “I brought this over last night when we’d planned to watch that chick flick together. I wanted to read you a few of the entries. But then David called, and you know how that went.” Her lips tilted downward, guilt laden in her tone. “I deserted you like a very bad friend.”

David being her hot doctor boyfriend. What David wanted from Ella, he got. Now, I know just how true that is. I study Ella a moment. With her dewy youthful skin, and dressed in faded jeans and a purple tee, she looks like one of my students rather than a twenty-five-year-old teacher herself. “I was tired anyway,” I assure her, but I’m worried she’s over her head with this man ten years her senior. “I needed to get to bed to be ready for today’s classes.”

“Well, they’re over now and yay for that.” She indicates the journal. “And I’m so glad to get this back before my date with David tonight.” She wiggles an eyebrow. “Foreplay. David is going to love this. This thing is scorching hot.”

I gape in utter disbelief. “You read him your journal?” I’d never have the courage to read a man such intimate personal thoughts—especially not about him. “And it’s foreplay?”

Ella frowns. “This isn’t my journal. Remember? I told you last night. It’s from the storage units I bought at that auction at the beginning of summer.”

“Oh,” I say, though I don’t remember Ella saying anything about the journal. In fact, had she, I’m 100 percent sure I’d remember. “That’s right. The storage auctions you’ve been attending since you got obsessed with that Storage Warsshow. I still can’t believe people store their things and then default and let it go to the highest bidder.”

“And yet they do,” Ella says. “And I’m not obsessed.”

I arch a brow.

“Okay, maybe I am,” she concedes, “but I’m going to make more than double what I would have teaching summer school. You should really consider going to the next auction with me. I’ve already turned around two of the three units I bought for big money.” She holds up the journal. “This came from the last unit I bought, and it’s the best yet. It has artwork I know is going to sell for big bucks. And so far I’ve found three journals that are absolutely spellbinding. My gosh, I can’t seem to stop reading them. This woman started out like you and me, and somehow got pulled into this dark passionate place that is terrifyingly exciting.”

She’s right, and I can feel that burn in my belly as I recall the words on those pages. I can almost imagine the soft, seductive voice of the woman whispering her story to me. I try to focus on what Ella is saying, but I’m wondering about that woman instead, wondering where she is, who she is.

“Oh my!” Ella exclaims. “You’re blushing. You read the journal, didn’t you?”

I blanch. “What? I . . .” Suddenly, I can’t talk. I am so not myself right now, and I sink helplessly into an overstuffed brown chair across from Ella, stuck in the trap of my earlier lie. “I . . . yes. I read it.”

Ella claims a couch cushion, narrowing her green eyes on me. “Did you think I wrote that stuff?”

I cast her a tentative look. “Well . . .”

“Whoa,” she says, clearly taking my reply, or rather lack of reply, as confirmation. “You thought . . .” She shakes her head. “I’m speechless. You couldn’t have read the good parts or there’s no way you would think she was me. But you’re sure blushing like you read the good parts.”

“I read some parts that were, ah, pretty detailed.”

She snorts. “And you assumed I wrote them.” She shakes her head again. “And here I thought you knew me. But heck, I so wish I could live up to that assessment for just one hot night. There is a mysterious eroticism to that woman’s life that’s just . . .” She shivers. “Haunting. It, she, affects me.”

In some small way it comforts me to know she is as affected by the words on those pages as I am, and I don’t know why. What in the world do I need comfort for? It isn’t logical. Nothing about my reaction to this unknown woman is logical.

“Once David and I finish with the journal,” Ella continues, drawing me back into the conversation, “he’s going to take pictures of a few intimate pages for potential buyers and we’re listing the journals on eBay. They’re going to bring in big money. I just know it.”

I gape, appalled at this idea. “You can’t seriously intend on selling this woman’s personal thoughts on eBay?”

“Heck yeah, I do,” she says. “Making money is the name of the game. Besides, for all we know, it’s fiction.”

Her words are cold, and she surprises me. This is not the Ella I know. “We are talking about a woman’s private thoughts, Ella. Surely, you don’t want to profit off her pain.”

Her brows dip. “What pain? It sounds like all pleasure to me.”

“She lost everything she owns at auction. That isn’t pleasure.”

“I’m guessing her rich man flew her off to some exotic location and she is living life in a grand way.” Her voice turns somber. “I have to think like that to do this, Sara. Please don’t make me feel guilty. This is money I need, and if I didn’t do this, some other buyer would have.”

I open my mouth to argue but relent. Ella is alone in this world, with no family aside from an alcoholic father who doesn’t know his own name most of the time, let alone hers. I know she feels she has to have money for emergencies. I know that feeling myself all too well. I, too, am alone. Mostly, but I don’t want to think about that right now.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, and I mean it. “I know this is good for you. I’m happy it’s working out.”

Her lips curve slightly, and she nods her acceptance before she pushes to her feet. I stand with her and give her a hug. She smiles, her mood transforming into the instant sunshine I so often find she brings into my life. I love Ella. I really do.

“David and I are looking forward to a bit of that spellbinding action ourselves tonight,” she announces mischievously. “I have to run.” She laughs and waves a few fingers at me. “Enjoy your night. I know I will.”

I sink back into my chair and watch the door close.

• • •

The sound of pounding on my door once again takes me from bliss to panic. I sit up in the bed, disoriented and groggy, and eye the clock. Seven in the morning on my first day off from classes.

“Who the heck is pounding on my door?” I grumble, throwing the blankets off me and sliding my feet into the pink fuzzy slippers one of my students gave me last Christmas. I grab my long pink robe that is not fuzzy, but does say PINK across the back. More knocking has begun.

“Sara, it’s me, Ella!” I hear as I shuffle my way toward the living room. “Hurry! Hurry!”

My heart flutters not only because Ella is clearly in some sort of panic but also because, unlike me, who doesn’t like to waste a second of any day, Ella doesn’t get up before noon on days she doesn’t have to. The instant I yank open the door, Ella flings her arms around me and announces, “I’m eloping!”

“Eloping?!” I gasp, pulling back and tugging Ella inside, out of the chill of the early morning. She’s still wearing her clothes from the night before. “What are you talking about? What’s happening?”

“David proposed last night,” she exclaims excitedly. “I can hardly believe it. We’re flying to Paris this morning.” She eyes her watch and squeals. “In two hours.”

She shoves something into my hand. “That has the key to my apartment. On the kitchen table, you’ll find the journal and the key to the storage unit. If it’s not cleared out in two weeks, it has to be rented, or it’s auctioned off yet again. So take it and sell the stuff. The money is yours. Or let it go. Either way, it doesn’t matter.” She grins. “Because I’m eloping to Paris, then honeymooning in Italy!”

Protectiveness fills me for Ella. I don’t want her to get hurt, and I’ve never even heard her say she loves David. “You’ve known this man for only three months, sweetie. I’ve met him only once.” He always, conveniently, got called away when we’d been planning to get together.

“I love him, Sara,” she says, as if reading my mind. “And he’s good to me. You know that.”

No, I don’t know that, but while I try to find the right way to say it, she is already reaching for the door. “Ella—”

“I’ll call you when I arrive in Paris, so keep your cell handy.”

“Wait!” I say, shackling her arm. “How long will you be gone?”

Her eyes light up with excitement. “A month. Can you believe it? A whole month in Italy. I’m living a dream.” She hugs me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Since we high school folks don’t go back until October, thanks to the longer school days, I’m going a full month! Can you believe it? I’ll never complain about our longer school days again. A whole month in Italy—I’m living a dream! I’ll call, and when we get back we’ll have a reception.”

Her eyes soften. “You know I wanted you with me for this, don’t you? But David knew I had no family. He wanted to whisk me away so that it wouldn’t be painful.” She pokes at the puckered spot that always appears between my brows when I frown. “Stop making that face. It’ll be wrinkled when you get older. And I’m fine. I’m perfect, in fact.”

“You better be,” I say, attempting my best teacher voice, but my throat is too tight to do much more than croak out the warning. “Call me as soon as you arrive so I know you’re safe, and I want pictures. Lots of pictures.”

Ella smiles brightly, “Yes, Ms. McMillan.” She turns and rushes away, giving me a last-second wave over her shoulder before she rounds the corner. She is gone, and I am fighting unexpected tears I don’t even understand.

I am happy for Ella but worried for her, too. I feel . . . I’m not sure what I feel. Lost, maybe. My fingers curl around her keys, and I am suddenly aware that I have just inherited a storage unit and the journals I swore I wouldn’t read again.

 



My Review:

5/5 big Super stars


This book is marketed as Fifty Shades of Grey meets Basic Instinct.   I definitely see the 50 shades similarity but I didn’t see Basic Instinct so not sure if it compares to that.  This is really a very good book and it’s a different story line then 50 shades so don’t think you are just reading the same book.  


I was sucked in right from the start and stayed that way all the way to the end of the book.  As with most trilogies you will have questions that are not answered in the first book and might not be answered until the last one.  Please try having some to be patience!!! 


This book was written as present tense and in first person POV.   Makes it easier to figure out what is happening in the past (with Rebecca’s journal entries) and the present.

Sara McMillian, a high school English teacher and Arts graduate, has inherited a key for her friend to an abandoned storage locker.  Inside the locker she finds journals belonging to an Allure Art Gallery manager named Rebecca.  The journals contain erotic and passionate writing about an affair.  She feels that she should return the journals to Rebecca Mason. 

Sara goes to the art gallery but is unable to find Rebecca.  Sara gets offered a summer job.  Is she going to be living as Rebecca did?? 

Who could Rebecca have written her journals about Mark Compton, her new boss or Chris Merit, an artist she likes and admires? 

As Sara spends time with Chris she begins to see him as two people one moody and one sweet and tender.  Is it weird that they both make her hot and bothered? 

 
The ending is a HUGE cliffhanger on a couple of different issues. 



Here are a few I can’t wait for answers on:

Will Chris text Sara back? 

Who the hell is in the storage bin with Sara? 
 

I can’t wait for the next book in the series.

 
A Few of my favorite lines from Ava/Sara/Chris/Mark from the book:

Ava:

It’s the mystery. I think. No Matter how I try, I can’t draw him into conversation of any substance.  Well, that, and let’s just face it, the man make denim and leather look as edible as chocolate.

Sara:

“And I don’t want to be a part of the ‘who’s got a bigger sword?’ contest you two have going on, wither. I don’t do cockfights. I just want to do my job and do it well.”

Chris:

 “Be warned, Sara. I’m no saint. If I take you upstairs, I’m going to strip you naked and fuck you the way I’ve wanted to since the moment we first met.”
 
Mark:

These artists know I don’t tolerate that crap and as long as they believe I own you, they won’t believe you will, either.  So when I say I own you, Sara, I mean I own you.

 

Contact Info for Lisa Renee Jones

Twitter – @LisaReneeJones

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Filed under Gallery Books, Inside Out Trilogy, Lisa Renee Jones, Review, Romance

If I Were you on Sale until June

If I Were You by Lisa Renee Jones

The first book in this intensely seductive series, optioned to STARZ is on sale

 
It’s only $3.79 at Amazon

And $3.99 at Barnes and Noble

$3.79 at Amazon $3.99 at Barnes, Kobo, Apple and all retailers —ENDS THIS WEEK
This is only for a limited time, so take advantage of this offer quickly!!

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Filed under Inside Out Trilogy, Lisa Renee Jones, Romance, Sale

Midnight Special: Midnight Special\Coming on Strong by Tawny Weber

Midnight Special: Midnight Special\Coming on Strong by Tawny Weber

Publication date: May 1, 2013

<div style=”font-size:11px”>Publication date: 05/01/2013</div> Miniseries: The Wrong Bed
Published by Harlequin
Pages: 224

Back of the Book
2 Complete Novels for 1 Price!

Midnight Special: A new sizzling Wrong Bed story

Somewhere on the train is a key witness for a crime involving arson, murder and a high-profile businessman. And reporter Marni Clare will do whatever it takes to get the story–even if it means crashing in a sleeper car that she’s not sure she’s reserved. But when she wakes, she finds herself curled up with the man she’s seeking…and he’s hot enough to derail all her plans!

FBI special agent Hunter won’t complain about the wickedly hot blonde in his arms. And maybe it’s the medication he’s on, but he’s even agreed to share his room for the entire journey….

It’s a long trip in close quarters, and within days their berth becomes the scene of some steamy railway romps. But is Marni just having fun…or is she taking Hunter for a ride?

Coming On Strong: Runaway bride Belle Forsham intends to win her groom back–and she’s going to start by showing him exactly what he’s been missing….

Excerpts
From the book

A smart woman knew what she wanted, and how to get it.

Marni Clare considered herself damned smart.

Every step she’d taken up the career ladder had been weighed, calculated and carefully thought through. From starting her first newspaper in second grade, to choosing to work as a reporter at smaller papers instead of larger for a chance to build a stronger criminal-reporting portfolio. Right up to her move last year to shift from papers to Optimum, a renowned national magazine that’d give her a stronger gravitas.

Everything she wanted always boiled down to her career. And what she wanted right now was information on a patient who’d been admitted here a week ago. The huge explosion of a derelict warehouse owned by reputed mobster and current FBI prisoner Charles Burns had been all over the news.

What hadn’t been on the news, but Marni had managed to ferret out using her super-reporter insider info, was that someone had been injured, requiring an ambulance ride to this very emergency room.

She wanted to know who that someone was. Everyone was focused on Burns. On the trial, on the odds of a conviction. Marni had the feeling that whatever had gone down in that explosion, whoever had been involved, was the bigger story, though. And she wanted it.

But sneaking patient information out of a very ethical nurse wasn’t an easy task. It required stealth. A gift with reading people. A little bit of finesse.

And, of course, a bribe.

“I brought you cupcakes. Your favorite, chocolate with raspberry frosting,” Marni said, setting a cute little purple basket on the counter and giving her cousin a bright smile.

“You brought me cupcakes?” Sammi Clare-Warren gave Marni a suspicious look. “Why?”

“Why would I bring my favorite cousin cupcakes?”

“You’re up to something,” Sammi declared knowingly. Still, she did slide the basket closer and sniff at the cupcakes. She gave a hungry little sound, as if she was sniffing at pure temptation, then pushed them back and gave her cousin a narrow look. “What do you want?”

Marni debated. She could tell the truth, that Meghan, Sammi’s sister, said her twin had come home eight days ago raving about the drool-worthy, too-sexy-for-words FBI guy who’d been admitted to Emergency after a building exploded.

Or she could just throw herself out now, muttering a lecture on the sanctity of patient privacy and abuse of family ties.

“Wait..” Sammi gleefully drew the word out like she’d just discovered where Marni kept her secret stash of girly toys. “I know why you’re here.”

“Do you?” Marni wasn’t sure if she should pull on an abashed look or go for guilty. It was hard to tell what Sammi suspected.

“You’re hoping to meet someone.” Sammi’s grin was pure triumph. And now that she’d divined her cousin’s nefarious scheme, she pulled the basket of cupcakes across the counter.

“Seriously? You think I’m trolling the emergency room for a date?” What was wrong with her family? Did they not know her, not at all?

“Why else would you be here at nine o’clock on a Friday night?”

Marni pushed her hand through her hair. Oh, now that was just pathetic. Just because she was the only one of her thirteen cousins still uncommitted didn’t mean she was looking to change that status. Especially not like this. She didn’t figure it conceited to acknowledge that she was a good-looking, intelligent, fun woman. If she wanted a guy, there were plenty of better places than this to find one. But she didn’t want a guy. She wanted a career. A fabulous, famous,…

 
 
My Review
Reporter, Marni Clare who has no time for relationships just wanted a story.  After he is hurt, she tracks down FBI Special agent (Michael) Hunter at the ER. She overhears that he needs to ride the train so she needs on that train so she can try getting the information on her story. Will she get her story or the very sexy man?  Very hot read!!   This book also includes a Reader Favorite story “Coming On Strong” which is also a very hot read!!
5/5
 
 
 
 
Side Note this book also contains the below book:

 

 

 

Coming on Strong by Tawny Weber

Publication date: Apr 1, 2009

<div style=”font-size:11px”>Publication date: 05/01/2013</div> Book is related to Going Down Hard
Published by Harlequin
Pages: 224

Back of the Book

 
 
By private invitation only…

Event: Very sensual resort opening.

Place: In bed, hopefully!

Host: Hottie millionaire Mitch Carter.

Planner: Belle Forsham. Who once jilted Mitch at the altar. Oops…

When Mitch’s new hotel falters, he needs a pro. Enter the It Girl of event planning: the traitorous, damnably sexy Belle. Time for some red-hot revenge!

But Belle has her own secret agenda for her ex-fianc?. And in the meantime, she’ll enjoy how Mitch still makes her legs–and every other body part–deliciously quiver.

But it’s strictly business between them this time. At least it is…until Belle decides that the best sexual revenge goes both ways!

 

 

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Filed under Blaze, Harlequin, Review, Romance, Tawny Weber

A SEAL’s Surrender by Tawny Weber (Uniformly Hot SEALs #2)

A SEAL’s Seduction by Tawny Weber
Publication date: Mar 1, 2013
Published by Harlequin
Pages: 224

Back of the Book
Subject: Lieutenant Commander Cade Sullivan
Status: On leave
Mission: He’s home to take care of some family business.
Obstacle: Eden Gillespie. The girl who always lands in trouble…has landed in his bed!

Lieutenant Commander Cade Sullivan is the job. His commitment to the Navy SEALs is absolute–almost. Worse still, he’s been summoned home, where his family is the town royalty and women vie to be one of Cade’s conquests. One of them in particular….

Ever since they were kids, Cade has been rescuing Eden Gillespie. Now she’s decided she owes him one heck of a thank-you–one that involves a bed, naked bodies and sweet satisfaction. But when their sexy trysts are discovered, Eden becomes a bit of a town sensation–and not in a good way. Can she convince her SEAL to risk one last rescue operation?

Excerpts
From the book

I wish for a guy who worships my body, is great at sex and makes me feel like a goddess. Someone who loves me, for me. Inside and out. And is really, really good at it.

And if he could be six foot two, with sandy blond hair and dreamy green eyes, a body that made nymphomaniacs weep and a smile that melted her panties, that’d be cool, too.

Eyes scrunched tight, Eden Gillespie let that visual play out for just a second. Then, with a deep breath, she opened her eyes wide and blew.

The flame went out. Thankfully. Because she’d blown so hard, the candle toppled from its perch on the chocolate cupcake. Good wishes did that, she told herself as she scooped up a fingerful of frosting and grinned at the woman sitting across from her.

“So? What’d you wish for?” Bev Lang leaned forward, her wild red curls bouncing like springs around her cheerful face.

“It’s a secret. If I tell, it won’t come true,” Eden said primly before bursting into laughter. Yeah. Like she was gonna lose out on her body-worshipping lover because she put the word out that she was waiting? Still, she pulled her cupcake closer and, since it was filled with molten chocolate, used a fork to enjoy the next bite…and fill her mouth so she didn’t blurt anything out.

Because you never knew with wishes.

“I can’t believe you won’t tell me. How long have we been friends?” Bev asked, putting on her best ‘affronted’ expression. It wasn’t very effective since she still looked like she was waiting for a white apron and her boyfriend, Raggedy Andy.

“Eleven years?” Eden guessed, counting back to the first day of high school. That’d been the year her dad had died, leaving her mom too broke to keep paying the exorbitant tuition to the private school Eden had always attended. Secretly terrified, Eden had put on a brave face in hopes that the public school kids would accept her more than the private school snobs had. Bev had been the new girl in town, unaware that Eden wasn’t acceptable because of her zip code. By the time she’d learned the ins and outs of Ocean Point social politics, she and Eden had been too good of friends for it to matter.

“Then as your best friend since ninth grade, I figure it’s my job to help you with the wish,” Bev decided, leaning back in Eden’s faded and frayed Queen Anne dining chair and digging into her own cupcake. “I think this should be your year for sex.”

“An entire year, dedicated to sex?” Eden asked with a laugh. She was sure there was nothing more than dust motes and the faint air of neglect floating through the formal dining room. But, still, it was all she could do not to look over her head to see if the wish was written there in the candle smoke.

“You should dedicate this year to the pursuit of sex.” Bev scrunched up her nose. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything, but it might take a little effort on your part,” she added.

When was the last time she’d had sex worth the effort? Definitely not with Kenny. Not with any guy, if she were being honest. Eden swirled her fork in the gooey rich chocolate, using it to make a design on the Meissen plate. After all, what better time for brutal self-truths than a girl’s twenty-fifth birthday.

Kenny, the last guy she’d had sex with, had broken his foot trying to prove his manliness by doing it against a tree. Instead of accepting that he just wasn’t he-man material, he’d blamed her.

No wonder her love life sucked. Look at what she had to work with.

“So I know why I should want good sex,” Eden said, standing to clear their…

 
 
My Review
Very Hot read. 
Accident prone girl next store, Eden Gillespie is in need of a rescue.  Enter Lieutenant Commander Cade Sullivan who is on leave.  Hot and Steamy sex scenes throughout the book.  Cade is sweet, strong, and caring.  He is always trying to rescuing Eden.  Great love story.  Very satisfying read.   
 
5/5

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A SEAL’s Seduction by Tawny Weber (Uniformly Hot SEALs #1)

A SEAL’s Seduction by Tawny Weber
Publication date: Apr 1, 2013
Published by Harlequin
Pages: 224

Back of the Book
Subject: Navy SEAL Lieutenant Blake Landon
Current Status: Two weeks of enforced leave
Mission: Distract himself in any way possible
Obstacle: A woman who tempts him to break the rules…including his own!

Navy SEAL Blake Landon (aka “Boy Scout”) knows the rule book inside and out. Checked. Rechecked. But when a mission ends badly, his entire team is ordered on leave. And that’s when Blake sees the tall redhead whose dark eyes suggest that the rules–especially those in bed–are made to be broken.
Scientist Alexia Lane has sex on the brain–partly for work, but mostly because she needs a man who makes her girly parts do the happy dance. Her only no-no? No military dudes. But Blake’s rockin’ bod promises delicious pleasures, and Alexia is halfway to sexual Nirvana before she can find out he’s actually a Navy SEAL.
And where one rule is broken, more are sure to follow….

Excerpts
From the book

A loud blast filled the air as seven guns exploded in succession. Once, twice, thrice. Twenty-one shots. Faces implacable, the honor guard shouldered their guns and stood as tall and rigid as the oaks lining the cemetery.

The echoing silence broke when the bugler sounded taps. Lieutenant Blake Landon stood at attention, his eyes narrowed against the bright morning sun. The chaplain’s words of honor, bravery and sacrifice rolled over him like the gentle breeze, teasing, hinting but not really making an impact.

There was no mention of Phil’s sense of humor, of how he always carried a rubber snake on missions to break the tension. That he’d hit a McDonald’s the minute they were stateside for a bagful of French fries. The chaplain didn’t know that before jumping from a plane, Phil always kissed his mother’s picture, then rubbed a rabbit foot. He wouldn’t mention Phil’s love for the beach. It didn’t matter how godforsaken hot their assignment might have been, the minute he was off duty, he’d hit the beach–sun, surf and girls in bikinis. He’d often said those were his reward for getting shot at on a regular basis.

But that wasn’t the Phil they were honoring right now.

Here, at Arlington National Cemetery, Lieutenant Phil Hawkins was a soldier. Here, the sacred tradition of honoring the noble warrior focused on service, dedication and sacrifice to country.

The entire SEAL platoon in attendance, Blake stood shoulder to shoulder with his team. His squadmates. The men he served with, fought with, trained with. Prepared to offer up the ultimate sacrifice for their country.

Later tonight, they’d all celebrate Phil, the man. Their squadmate, buddy, friend. The Joker.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes glancing off the flag-draped casket, then shifting to the distant trees again when the captain began the ritual of folding the red, white and blue material. As the chaplain offered his final words of comfort, the captain gently placed the folded flag into Mrs. Hawkins’s hands.

Blake’s focus locked on that triangle of fabric and didn’t waver as the funeral finished. The people around him moved, shifted, left. He didn’t. He couldn’t.

They’d gone through BUDS training together. He, Phil and Cade. All cocky as hell, all determined to push their limits, to be superheroes. The Three Amigos, the rest of the team had called them. Inseparable.

Now permanently separated.

A large, beefy man joined him, scattering his thoughts. Grateful for the distraction, Blake directed his attention to the admiral. His hair as white and gleaming as his uniform, the older man topped Blake’s own six feet by at least two inches.

“Lieutenant,” Admiral Pierce greeted quietly. “I know this is a hard loss for you and your team. You have my sympathies.”

“Thank you, sir,” Blake said, his words stiff as he watched Phil’s mom softly smooth her fingers over the folded flag, as if running her fingers over her son’s cheek. Blake cringed when she lost it, her slender shoulders shaking as she sobbed into the triangle.

Desperate for distance, he ripped his gaze away. He looked at the trees. Oaks, mighty and strong, stood tall. Symbolic, probably. But he was having trouble finding solace.

“It never gets easier,” the admiral said.

“Should it?” Blake asked, looking at the older man. His superior. His trainer. His mentor.

“No.” The admiral glanced over at the trees. He sighed, then looked at Blake again. “No. But it’s something you’ll revisit. One way or another. Make sure you don’t let it get in your way.”

Just like that? Blake wanted to protest. To…

 
 
 
 
My Review 
Very satisfying read. 
Daughter of an admiral, Alexia Lane did not want to be involved with a military man.  Enter Navy SEAL Lieutenant Blake Landon who is on leave.  Steamy sex scenes were throughout the book.  Emotions were up and down like a normal relationship so you can relate to the characters.  Some suspense in this book also, which I love.
 
5/5
 

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Hollywood House Call by Jules Bennett


Hollywood House Call by Jules Bennett

Paperback, 192 pages
Published June 4th 2013 by Harlequin (first published June 1st 2013)



Back of the Book
Calling L.A.’s most eligible M.D.!

Brilliant Hollywood cosmetic surgeon Noah Foster has perfection at his fingertips. Even so, he knows better than any man that losing someone you love comes at a cost. Which is why he can’t walk away from Callie Matthews. When an accident shatters her dreams of stardom, he vows to heal her, inside and out.

Yet living in close quarters makes their red-hot attraction impossible to ignore. Being at Callie’s bedside is one thing-and being in her bed is something Noah can’t resist. He doesn’t do commitment…but letting Callie go is impossible….

LEARN MORE AT www.JulesBennett.com



Excerpts
From the book

“I want your body.”

Callie Matthews jerked around to see her boss, her very sexy Hollywood-plastic-surgeon boss standing only a few feet away in the foyer of his office. When he reached behind his back, the lock to the front door slid into place with a quick flick of his wrist.

“Excuse me?” she asked, thankful the office was now closed.

A naughty grin spread across Noah Foster’s face, showcasing that killer smile that never failed to make women weak in the knees as their panties were dropping. Granted, her panties had always remained in place, but still…

Mercy, she was so shallow, because if he so much as crooked a finger for her to follow him into the break room and.

“Hear me out,” he said, holding his hands up. “I know you want to catch your big break by acting–“

O-kay. So they obviously weren’t having the same thoughts about him wanting to tear off her underwear in the break room. Such a shame.

“But,” he went on, oblivious to her naughty thoughts, “I have a proposition for you.”

Those last three words were like music to her ears. That break-room fantasy might come true after all.

“I have an upcoming ad campaign I’d like you to model for.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. What?”

Model? The chubby teen that still lived inside her nearly laughed. But Callie had long since left that girl behind in Kansas.

Noah moved toward her, never taking his gaze from hers, never breaking that signature smile. “I’d like you to do the modeling for the ad to launch my new office across town.”

Callie came to her feet and moved around the desk. “Obviously, you haven’t thought this through.”

He raked his eyes down her body, sending all kinds of yummy thoughts swirling through her overactive imagination. “Oh, but I have. And it’s you I want.”

Oh, baby. If only those words were used under different circumstances.

“You have tons of clients you could use,” she told him as she turned and marched down the hall to the lounge to retrieve her purse. “Besides, I’ve never modeled.”

Like most transplants to L.A., Callie had come eager to be the next actress that would make Hollywood directors and producers sit up in their chairs and take notice of her remarkable talents. Unfortunately, her agent couldn’t get her any auditions that weren’t embarrassing. So far she’d done a commercial for zit cream and one for STD meds. Yeah, not the claim to fame she’d been hoping for. But she had to start somewhere, right?

Wait, maybe that whole STD thing was why Noah wasn’t so interested in seeing her outside the office. He did know that was purely acting…didn’t he? She was free and clear in that department, especially considering her lack of sexual experience. Not that she was a virgin, but she might as well be for the two pathetic encounters she’d had.

“I just want a few pictures of you, Callie.” Noah followed her and rested an impressive broad shoulder against the door-jamb. “The ads we’re going for will showcase the natural side of surgery, how to stay young and fresh.”

Callie mimicked his action and crossed her own arms over her chest and leaned against the counter. “But other than that minor chin scar you did microdermabrasion on, I haven’t had anything else done. Isn’t that false advertising?”

“Not at all,” he argued. “If you had never been a client, then that would be false advertisement. But you’re perfect, Callie. You’re beautiful, the camera will love you, and you’ll be on billboards across town. Tell me you don’t…

 

 



My Review

Noah Foster is a plastic surgeon who is a sweet guy who is hurting from a sad past that involved his fiancé who has passed away.   Callie Matthews works for him at his office as a receptionist.  She very badly wants to be an actress. Noah wants Callie to pose for a Photo shoot for his practice.  On the way to the photo shoot Callie gets into a terrible car accident that leaves her scarred.  Noah wants to help Callie as both a doctor and a man.  Throughout the book the chemistry between the two jumps out at you. 

 5/5

 

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