Showing posts with label Release Day Blitz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Release Day Blitz. Show all posts

August 7, 2018

ONE TO KEEP BY LEXI BLAKE-RELEASE DAY BLITZ



Stefan Talbot likes order and control. He approaches his life with the same meticulous precision that he uses to put paint on his canvas. Nothing good comes from chaos, and that is why he has refused to allow himself to get close to Jennifer Waters. They are like fire and ice. Though she is younger, her talent as an artist is unquestionable. But she lives her life like she paints—with wild, passionate abandon. It is intoxicating and terrifying, and he can’t get her out of his head. 

Jennifer ran from Bliss to put Stef behind her. She had come to the mountain town seeking a mentor but found much more than she bargained for. Cool and distant, Stef was like a marble statue and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break through his shell. She moved to Dallas to start over, but nothing is going as planned. When the art gallery where she works is robbed and a precious painting is stolen, Jen is accused of the theft. Jen is thrilled when her bail is met, until she realizes her savior is Stef and he has a few conditions. First and foremost, she has to return to Bliss.

Against the backdrop of the Winter Festival, Stef and Jen’s attraction catches fire. But the dark forces behind the robbery in Dallas have followed Jen home. A criminal syndicate believes she still has the stolen painting and they’ll kill to get their hands on it. 

AVAILABLE NOW

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What do art thefts, small towns, and controlling Dom's have in common?

More than you'd think, actually.

Stef and Jennifer have a past. One that she ran from, and he let her, because of her age. But, when she needs him, when her world seems to fall apart, there's nowhere else he'd think of being than with her.

I can't say I totally loved Stefan. He's a little controlling, even for a Dom, and there were parts that had me thinking it might be a little much, that he was over the top. But, it worked. And, more importantly it worked for the characters in the story, so I was able to move past that and enjoy this title.

I recommend this latest in the Bliss Colorado series of titles.



 


 * * * * Stef turned back to Jen. “Let’s move, Jennifer. I have a plane ready. We need to be at Love Field in an hour. I have an officer waiting to process you out.” Jen’s head whirled. “Plane?” “Yes, plane. We’re going back to Bliss.” “No way.” Cool, gray eyes slitted, and she could practically feel the will rolling off him. Stef was tense, and she knew it was a bad idea to push him, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m serious, Stef. I’m not going anywhere with you.” She couldn’t go back to Bliss. Panic threatened to swamp her. He was here. He was right here in front of her, and her heart didn’t give a damn that he was a bastard. For the first time in months, she felt desire for something besides her art. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, go down that path again. He got into her space, a move he’d perfected seemingly long before he met her. She held her ground. Even though he didn’t touch her physically, he seemed to surround her. Suddenly her whole world was Stef, his gray eyes, the heat of his body, his masculine, clean scent. He filled her every sense. “I’m not going home with you.” She forced herself to say the words. His lips hitched up. “At least you admit Bliss is your home.” That wasn’t what she’d meant. Bliss, Colorado, had felt like home when she’d been there, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bliss wasn’t big enough for the two of them. “It’s your home. Hell, Stef, it’s your little kingdom, and you like to play the king, don’t you?” “Yes, because everyone does what I say.” Stef’s low growl made her breath speed up. “Everyone in Bliss bows down to me. Have you been gone for so long that you forget Max regularly kicks my ass? And Nell and Henry are currently protesting my gardening practices.” He was too close for comfort. She gave in and took a step back. She could see plainly that he was satisfied with her discomfort. “Don’t try to play the poor rich boy with me. You’re a puppet master. You like to pull the strings and see how people dance. Well, I’m not in your kingdom anymore, and there’s no way you can get me there again. So you can take your money and go back to Colorado.” It was stupid. Even as she said the words, she wanted to take them back. She’d spent the last twenty-four hours terrified in a jail cell. She would have to be the stupidest woman in the world to turn him down, but she’d never thought around Stef. Since the moment she’d met him, she’d been a quivering mass of emotion and desire every time he entered a room. “Stubborn thing. I’ll make it easy on you.” His hands caught hers, and before she could think she felt cold metal surrounding her wrists. He flicked the cuffs on with the cool precision of a man who often cuffed the women in his life. “What are you doing?” She stared at her hands. At least this time they were in front of her. She preferred it that way. Damn, her life had taken a wrong turn when she could compare and contrast her experiences with men who handcuffed her. “Taking you home, Jennifer. Whether you like it or not.” He leaned down and picked her up. She was in his arms, nestled close to his chest. She looked up at the square, inflexible line of his jaw. His arms tightened around her, and she was caged more closely than she’d been in the holding cell. She had the suspicion that this time Stef would be harder to escape from than before. He kicked open the door and started down the hall. Yep, like it or not, she was going back to Bliss.

 


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

May 15, 2018

MELT FOR YOU BY J.T. GEISSINGER-RELEASE DAY BLITZ


MELT FOR YOU by J.T. Geissinger is available now! Read an excerpt below and pick up your copy of this sexy contemporary romance!


About MELT FOR YOU

A wallflower gets seduction tips from a playboy athlete—until love changes the rules.

Socially awkward Joellen Bixby has a date every Saturday—with her cat, a pint of ice cream, and fantasies of the way-too-handsome Michael Maddox. She’d give anything to win over the unattainable CEO of her firm, but how can she when she blends in so well with her cubicle? The answer may be closer than she thinks.

Cameron McGregor is a cocky, tattooed Scottish rugby captain who just moved in next door. He’s not Jo’s type—at all—but the notorious playboy is offering to teach the wallflower everything he knows about inspiring desire. Though a lot of women have rumpled Cam’s kilt, Jo is special. Far from the ugly duckling she thinks she is, in Cam’s eyes she’s sharp, funny, and effortlessly sexy. Now, thanks to him, Jo is blooming with confidence and has the man of her dreams within reach.

Unfortunately for Cam, he’s just helped to push the woman of his dreams into the arms of another man—and now he’s in the fight of his life to keep this beauty from getting away.

Add MELT FOR YOU to your Goodreads list here!

Get your hands on MELT FOR YOU:




“Remember to breathe,” he whispers. “Just kiss me already,” I whisper back, surprised by how much it sounds like a plea. “Your eyes are still open.” I immediately shut them. His soft laugh sends a thrill up my spine. “If only you were that obedient all the time, lass.” He lightly nips my lower lip, a dark, delicious little promise. My hands. What do I do with my hands? They’re flattened against his chest again, but that seems lame, so I slide them up around his neck...and discover his hair. Good lord. Thick, glossy strands of hair slide like silk between my fingers. It’s longer than any of the men’s at the office, much longer than Michael’s, past the collar of his shirt, dark and waving, exquisitely soft. As his tongue slowly begins to probe my mouth, I tug on all that gorgeous hair, forgetting I’m not supposed to be enjoying this. I arch against him, softening, expanding, breathing deeply through my nose as the kiss deepens and begins to burn. I wasn’t kidding when I said he was experienced. He knows exactly what to do, how to get my blood sizzling and my heart hammering and all the pornographic images of him nude and splayed out like the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received pulsing like neon signs inside my head. My nipples tighten. There’s a new heaviness between my legs, but it’s not him, it’s me, flushed and aching, every pull of his lips sending a spike of heat to that hollow space inside me that I’m becoming acutely aware of, its muted little howls of need. I break away to check in before I lose myself completely and choke him with my prehensile tongue. “How’m I doing?” I mumble, flushed and out of breath. His eyes drift open. Hot and dark, they pin me in place. “Jury’s still out,” he says, his voice thick. “Need more evidence.” His mouth. I will drown in the pleasure of his mouth. I’ll die on this sofa and Mrs. Dinwiddle will find my body, fingers and toes chewed on by the poor starving cat. The kiss grows decadent. Sinful. I moan, a desperate sound rising from the back of my throat. It has an interesting effect on Cam. His entire body goes stiff. He takes my head in both hands, breaks the kiss, and turns his face away. He breathes raggedly for a few moments, his nostrils flared and his jaw like granite. With his fingers pressed into my scalp, he says roughly, “You can’t make noises like that.” Oh God. I sound like a warthog. A donkey. A trained pig, snuffling through the underbrush in search of truffles. “Okay.” The humiliation in my voice makes his eyes slash to mine. “It’s not bad. It’s just...distracting.” Distracting? He slightly shifts his weight, and things are clarified. I bite my lip so hard I might have drawn blood. My heart is a hummingbird beating frantically against a cage. I whisper, “You said you wouldn’t get aroused.” He looks at my mouth like a warlord looking over a kingdom he’s just seized. “I lied.” A kiss again, dangerous, like standing at the edge of a cliff and looking over, shifting dirt and rocks tumbling beneath your feet. My fingers twist in his hair. His hands move my head, left or right, however he wants it, a throbbing pulse like drumbeats in my ears. I’m so turned on I feel frantic, unstable, like I might break out of my own skin. Caterpillar becoming butterfly. Chrysalis shed, wings outstretched, wind beneath my belly. Caught on an updraft. Beating, beating, flying free. He breaks the kiss, suddenly, shatteringly, the separation like breaking glass. Dizzy, I whimper at the loss of his mouth. “Fuck. Joellen. Fuck.” He’s panting, his voice a desperate rasp. He radiates heat like a furnace. Even his hands on my head are hot, burning right through my skull. With his scent in my nose and his heat wrapped around me and his heart pounding against mine, I’m somewhere else. I’m someone else. A gypsy, casting spells. A sloe-eyed singer in a smoky jazz club. A femme fatale in a film noir, all knowing smiles and long legs and a throaty voice with an edge like a purr. “Don’t stop,” I say in my new voice. “You taste so good.” He stares right at me, his eyes intensely aglow. Tiger eyes. Wolf eyes. The eyes of a predator about to pounce on his meal. He growls, “You like the way I taste?” There’s a challenge in the question. Other than his ragged breathing, he’s so still, every muscle tensed. What’s happening? I come back to myself abruptly, all at once aware of how far this little experiment has gone, how dangerously close it is to the point of no return, and the cat up on the kitchen table eating the remains of Cam’s dinner from his plate. Oh shit. My face floods with heat. I’m not a gypsy. I’m not a femme fatale. I’m an awkward, lonely woman sitting on the lap of the most famous athlete on the planet, making an utter fool of myself. 



About J.T. Geissinger

A former headhunter, J.T. Geissinger is the author of more than a dozen novels in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense. She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. Her work has also finaled in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards. Join her Facebook reader’s group, Geissinger’s Gang, to take part in weekly Wine Wednesday live chats and giveaways, find out more information about works in progress, have access to exclusive excerpts and contests, and get advance reader copies of her upcoming releases. 

January 23, 2018

FALLING UNDER BY LISA RENEE JONES-RELEASE DAY BLITZ



ABOUT

A new sexy standalone from Lisa Renee Jones…

Ex-special forces, Jacob King, is a man who keeps to himself, having learned the hard way that letting people close to you, trusting them, might just get you killed. A lesson he learned when members of his Special Ops team turned dirty, while others, men he considered friends, died. He made them pay. He made them hurt. He put them in jail. And so he doesn't trust anyone anymore. He keeps his women hot and fast, his friends few to none, and his clients through the elite Walker Security at a professional distance, but safe.

It works for him. Until it doesn't.

His newest job should be simple and cut and dry. Jewel Carpenter, the daughter of the CEO of Carpenter Enterprises, is receiving death threats. He's to protect her and find out who is issuing the treats.

Simple. Cut and Dry.

Until it's not.

Until the chemistry between he and Jewel is all about love, hate, and sex. But even as he fights the attraction to Jewel and discovers there is more to her than meets the eye, the real threat comes not from the threats she's receiving, but the connection she has to him. Because his past has come full circle, and those men he's made pay for their sins now want him to pay. And what better way than the woman in his bed?


BUY LINKS





“Just to be clear,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I’m breaking every rule I own with you. I don’t fuck women I’m protecting.”

“You could hand me over to someone else,” I suggest, “and it won’t matter.”

“Not a chance in hell,” he says, his hand sliding under my hair to cup my neck. “We’ll break the rules together.”

“I’m not sure I like how you do ‘together’.”

“I’ll make sure you do,” he promises, his lips slanting over mine, and this time he kisses me like he owns me, like he wants to control me, and like I really am his, like I belong to him, and in this very moment, I can honestly say

I am. I want him, and I can’t get enough of him.

And how can it ever be enough when he’s this damn impossibly hot, and he’s such a damn good kisser. The way he makes me want his mouth on every part of me and the way he makes me want my mouth on every part of him. And so, there it is. I’m his, but I’m going to make damn sure he’s mine, too. I kiss him back as passionately as he’s kissing me. I meet him stroke for stroke, arching into him, telling him I am here and present, and I’m not even close to afraid of him or of this. He doesn’t get to control me. He isn’t making me do this. I control me, and I choose him and this.

Arching into him, his shoulder holster and mine are in the way, and I want them gone. I want him naked. Just to be certain that he knows that’s where I want this to go, my hand presses between us and I stroke the hard line of his shaft. He groans low in his throat, a sexy rough sound that tells me he gets the point. This isn’t his show. It’s ours. It’s us together, or there is no show, with or without our clothes on.

His reaction is to tear his mouth from mine, his lips lingering there though, as if he wants to kiss me again, and just when I would kiss him again, he leans away just enough to shrug out of his jacket. I take one step backward, and do the same with my blazer. I reach down and pull off my boots and he does the same. Next, we disconnect our shoulder holsters, and the truth is, it’s the first time I’ve ever been with a man who is probably more armed than me. That feels significant when it perhaps is not. He’s not a cop. He’s not that kind of career complication. He’s a Green-fucking-Beret, and one hell of a hot one, for that matter.

He sets his weapon on the couch and snags my hand, walking me toward him and taking my holster and weapon as he does. “Just making sure you don’t end up shooting me before this is over,” he says, setting it with his before shackling my hip.

“I told you I’ll wait until after the orgasms.”

“Careful,” he says, a hint of a smile on his lips again. “I might hold that orgasm and you captive.”

“You can try,” I say, but my head isn’t in the game in this moment, and somehow my hand is on his face, right by the almost smile, that seems to have complicated what should be sex, an escape, a way to pull back the emotions that umbrella stirred in me. That smile reminds me that Mr. Robot is his wall, his way to cope with death, with whatever makes him protect Jesse Marks.

He captures my hand. “What are you thinking?”

“That you have on too many clothes,” I say, before I let this go someplace emotional, somewhere that two people like us never want to go.

My hands press under his shirt, but he doesn’t immediately give me what I want. He studies me for several beats and then kisses me hard and fast. Too fast, but I get over it when he pulls his shirt off. He cups my face and kisses me, his hand sliding up my shirt, his touch fire that has me helping him pull my shirt over my head. Letting him drag me to him where he now sits on the couch. I straddle him, my bra somehow gone by the time I’m there. But my hands press to his shoulders, and I hold him at bay. “I will still arrest you if I need to,” I promise. “This doesn’t change that.”

“You aren’t going to arrest me any more than you hate me.” He glances down at my chest, his gaze a hot caress as it rakes over my breasts, my nipples, before his eyes meet mine. “Because you know I’m protecting you.”

I ignore the ache between my thighs. Or I try. “From what? The slayer or the Jesse Marks damage patrol?”

His hand slides between my shoulder blades and he molds my chest to his. “Do you really want to talk about Jesse Marks right now? Because if you ask me questions, I’m going to ask you questions when I’d much rather be inside you, giving you as many reasons as I can not to arrest me. But you pick. Conversation or fucking.”

“Both,” I say, because it’s the truth. I want answers and I want the conversation my emotions are having in my head to shut up. “Fucking first.” I push away from him and stand up, unbuttoning my pants, sliding them down my hips, and he watches me with that unreadable, robot expression that is admittedly sexy as hell. I press my lips to his and that’s all it takes.

We are crazy, hot, kissing, his hands on my breasts, my nipples, my neck. I can’t touch him enough. I can’t feel him enough, can’t get close enough, and that’s new to me. I don’t need anyone the way I feel I need this man. I don’t want to need anyone this much, but it’s too late. At least, right here, right now, I do. He rolls us to our sides, facing one another, the wide cushion of the couch more than holding us and the next kiss isn’t fast and frenzied. It’s long, drugging, and somewhere in the midst of his tongue stroking my tongue, I end up on my back with the heavy weight of him on top of me...

Check out books one and two in the WALKER SECURITY series: Deep Under and Pulled Under are both available now and FREE in the KINDLEUNLIMITED PROGRAM! All three books in the series are standalones.



October 30, 2017

THE HUNT BY MONICA JAMES-RELEASE DAY BLITZ



BLURB:

My name is Hunter O’Shea and I have a confession to make…I’ve met a girl who consumes me. I know that makes me sound completely whipped, but Mary “Lamb” Mitts has the power to bring me to my knees…it’s just too bad she hates my guts. But that’s okay, because I hate hers, too. The fiery redhead stirs something in me that I can’t explain.

This temporary insanity could be due to the fact my best friend, who used to be a bigger player than me, is getting married. That must be it. I’m caught up in an Oprah moment.

The only solution is to get back in the game and forget she exists. That theory is great—too bad I don’t want anyone else.

I…just…want…her.

I’m so screwed.


Order Now:

Amazon Paperback: bit.ly/TheHuntAmazon

Series: A Hard Love Romance 
Book 1: Dirty Dix http://amzn.to/1Fz2WX0
Book 2: Wicked Dix http://amzn.to/1RiiIu7
Genre: Rom-Com, Erotica
Release Date: October 30th 2017



The Hard Love Romance series books are exactly what you expect from the name. They aren't puppies and rainbows, the characters are a little less glossy, a little more player, and a lot less easy to like.

Hunter O'Shea definitely fits this bill. You meet him with Dix, as Dixon is his best friend. And, well, you like him, but he is definitely not the man of romantic fantasy. He's a player, he is crude and he is a womanizer, so he seems like possibly not the catch of the century.

Mary definitely sees him this way. Attractive? Sure. But not someone she is interested in trading anything other than insults with...and that she puts up with because he is the best friend of the man marrying her best friend.

He's a player, a jerk and he is crude.

Or is he?

Well, as the reader and Mary quickly learn, there is a lot under the parts of Hunter that he lets everyone see, a lot more depth and a lot more heart and compassion.

What I love about this is the fact that Monica James doesn't really "redeem" Hunter in any traditional romantic hero sort of way. Is he willing to change for Mary? Yes, he is. Is he willing to fall in love with her and commit to her for the long term? Yes. But, is he particularly sorry about his past, his conquests and the numbers of women he was involved with?

Nope.

Not in the slightest.

And, I loved this about him, and about this story.

Will this mean that it is not for everyone? Possibly. Does it mean that I loved reading about a romantic anti-hero who gets his happily ever after? Definitely.

I recommend this title.




Something is happening and I have no idea what. Mary’s eyes drop to my lips before she uneasily licks hers. Her flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and heavy breathing all point to one thing—but that’s not possible. This woman hates me, all delicious, lithe five-foot-four of her wants me dead.

So why is she not slapping my cheeks and calling me a dirty manwhore when I inch closer to her lips? And why am I not slamming on the brakes because I don’t kiss—ever, but that rule seems to be obsolete when the supplest pair of lips are a hairs breadth away?

I’m rolling in her perfume. Slathering it all over my body and inhaling it like a new drug. She is all goddess, and if I don’t touch her, I’m going to explode.

Placing my palm to her cheek, we both moan at the contact, and when she parts those lips, I’m as good as gone. “Hunter, wh-what are you doing?”

My name has never sounded sweeter. “Shortcake, I don’t know…you tell me.” The ball is in her court. I’m liquefying and my brain turned to mush about fifteen minutes ago, so I’m in no state to be the one calling the shots.

“I…I…” she fumbles, never breaking eye contact.

“You what?” I ask, tugging at the lobe of her ear, before tracing my pointer down her throat. Her pulse is hammering, a sure sign she’s about to either surrender, or flee.

“I…oh god,” she whimpers, biting her lip when I work my finger back up and paint over her jawline in a slow sweep.

“You have three seconds…three seconds to stop me before I part those lips with my tongue, and I won’t be gentle about it.”




ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Monica James spent her youth devouring the works of Anne Rice, William Shakespeare, and Emily Dickinson.

When she is not writing, Monica is busy running her own business, but she always finds a balance between the two. She enjoys writing honest, heartfelt, and turbulent stories, hoping to leave an imprint on her readers. She draws her inspiration from life.

She is a bestselling author in the U.S., Australia, Canada, France, Germany, Israel, and the U.K.

Monica James resides in Melbourne, Australia, with her wonderful family, and menagerie of animals. She is slightly obsessed with cats, chucks, and lip gloss, and secretly wishes she was a ninja on the weekends.

AUTHOR LINKS: 

Instagram: @MonicaJames 
Website: monicajamesbooks.blogspot.com.au 
Pinterest: pinterest.com/monicajames81

October 17, 2017

BURN FOR YOU BY J.T. GEISSINGER-RELEASE DAY BLITZ


BURN FOR YOU by J.T. Geissinger is available now! Fall in love with The Beast today - read an excerpt from BURN FOR YOU below and pick up your copy now!

 

About BURN FOR YOU (Slow Burn #1)

Available October 17th

The marriage is fake. But for a sassy chef and an arrogant billionaire, the sparks are real… Jackson “The Beast” Boudreaux is rich, gorgeous, and unbelievably rude to the staff at Chef Bianca Hardwick’s New Orleans restaurant. Bianca would sooner douse herself in hot sauce than cook for Jackson again, but when he asks her to cater his fund-raiser, Bianca can’t refuse, knowing the cash will help pay her mother’s medical bills. Then Jackson makes another outrageous request: Marry me. The unconventional offer includes an enormous sum—money Bianca desperately needs, even if it does come with a contract—and a stunning ring.

The heir to a family bourbon dynasty, Jackson knows the rumors swirling around him. The truth is even darker. Still, he needs a wife to secure his inheritance, and free-spirited, sassy Bianca would play the part beautifully. Soon, though, their simple business deal evolves into an emotional intimacy he’s built walls to avoid.

As the passion heats up between them, Bianca and Jackson struggle to define which feelings are real and which are for show. Is falling for your fake fiancé the best happy ending…or a recipe for disaster?

Add BURN FOR YOU to your Goodreads list here!



I'll admit it, Beauty and The Beast is my favorite fairy tale. When I saw the hero in this book had the nickname Beast I had to grin. Add in a fake relationship trope and it was a no brainer that I wanted to try this book. Overall, I did enjoy this slow burn romance.

I liked Becca. I liked her sass and her attitude. I appreciated her struggles to help her mom, and I thought the author handled that situation really well.

Jackson? Lord, I wanted to smack that man in the beginning of the book. But of course, he has his reasons. He's a truly good man, one who helps others even when he's been let down by so many in the past. That wounded vibe he gives off really works for him.

The tension between them snaps right away. I wanted Becca to smack him and him to pull her in for an epic kiss. But that's just me. These two have a slow burn-until they don't. Once their walls are down, they are done with slow and I think that worked for them. They had good banter as well, making me snort a couple of times with laughter.

The writing was good and solid. I liked that there was focus on things outside of just their relationship, as I think that helps show who their true character is, but there were times I wanted a little less outside interference and a little more of them. I did enjoy this title and look forward to seeing what this author has up her sleeve for the next Slow Burn book. I recommend this title.



When you start a book in the series "Slow Burn" you have certain expectations about the pacing of the book, and this was definitely a slow burn.

When you first meet Jackson, he is a jerk and strikes sparks off of Bianca almost instantly...and you are looking forward to them pursuing this attraction. The potential for an amazing hate f*** is there...and then it fizzles until about 60% in the book, I was non-plussed with the relationship between them and was more interested in her life, and the things she was dealing with.

I understand why the author placed the importance on the outside aspects, as they are the reason she agrees to his plan, it shifted the focus from the central characters in such a way as it lost a lot of the "burn" for me.

I also thought the pacing in the last 3rd of the book was off in comparison with the rest of the book, which also made it feel a little off...once they got together, it was full speed ahead, or at least that was how it seemed to me.

I liked the interracial aspect and I wish that this had been made a little more prominent...in New Orleans, the potential for someone who is from there to be Creole, or mixed race, is a normal thing and I wish this had been given that prevalence and normalcy in the beginning of the story and not oddly hinted at.

Overall, I did enjoy a lot of this book, and I do recommend it, even though there were parts I wanted more from.




Read an excerpt from BURN FOR YOU

This time it was me who froze in shock when our lips came together. It took him several long moments of gentle coercion with his tongue before I finally opened my mouth. When I did, it was on a soft groan that he stole when he inhaled. He was so big, and warm, and hard everywhere, except for his mouth, which was like cotton candy. I melted into it. He slid his thumb under my ear, and I shivered. His fingers pressed into my scalp. When he sank his teeth gently into my lower lip, lightning flashed through me. I fisted my hand into the scruff of his neck and pulled him closer. Suck, slide, nip, repeat, feel your pulse in all the hidden places in your body. This kiss was cashmere. It was luxuriant. It was decadent, unhurried, sweetly delicious, like stretching out on warm sand and drinking a mai tai. His scent was in my nose: pine and musk and something earthy and fresh, the way the woods smell after it rains. He made that masculine sound deep in his throat that I found weirdly thrilling and pressed his hand into the small of my back. It brought our lower bodies together and provided me with impressive evidence that Jackson Boudreaux was anything but nonsexual. “Oh,” I breathed. His laugh was soft and dark. “Yes, oh. Stop talking.” I couldn’t catch my breath, but it didn’t matter because his lips were on mine again. Little puffs of air through my nose would have to sustain me. His hand in the small of my back became the iron band of his arm around my waist. My nipples tightened. His heartbeat crashed against my chest. The kiss turned from slow and sweet to hard and hot, first melting me and then lighting me on fire. He tangled his hand into my hair, pulled the clip loose that held it all in place, and let it fall to the floor. He made that sexy, manly noise again when my hair spilled into his fingers. I fought the urge to press my hips against his, then softly moaned in relief when he did it for me, one big paw cupped under my bottom. Yes, yes, yes, thrummed my heart, aching for more. He broke away, breathing heavily. My eyes drifted open. He stared down at me with a look like he might devour me. Good thing I was in the mood to be devoured.

See the BURN FOR YOU trailer:




About J.T. Geissinger

A former headhunter, J.T. Geissinger is the author of more than a dozen novels in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense. She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. Her work has also finaled in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards. Join her Facebook reader’s group, Geissinger’s Gang, to take part in weekly Wine Wednesday live chats and giveaways, find out more information about works in progress, have access to exclusive excerpts and contests, and get advance reader copies of her upcoming releases.

October 9, 2017

TEMPT THE PLAYBOY BY NATASHA MADISON-RELEASE DAY BLITZ





 

play•boy
ˈplāˌboi/
noun
a wealthy man who spends his time enjoying himself, especially one who behaves irresponsibly or is sexually promiscuous.
Synonyms: socialite, pleasure seeker.

Noah 
I have it all, money, looks, and any woman I want.
Till I meet her and my universe is knocked on its ass and she wants nothing to do with me.

Kaleigh 
My motto: never date the same man twice. I have less chance of breaking my heart that way.
Till my eyes land on the only man I’ll break my rule for.

She thinks she can run. That I’ll let her get away.

He thinks he can handle a woman like me.
He has no idea.

A man who has it all needs one thing and one thing only. A temptress.

Watch me Tempt the Playboy. 








Watch the trailer HERE






When her nose isn't buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she's in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It's a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn't listen to her... 

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