Category Archives: Excerpt

EXCERPT REVEAL ~ Irresistibly Undeniable by Zoey Derrick

Title: Irresistibly Undeniable

Author: Zoey Derrick

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Release Date: October 10

From Best Selling Author, Zoey Derrick, comes a brand new standalone novel about getting a second chance.

She was his best friend’s chubby sister.
He was the star football player.
It never made sense that he would want her, but he did.

It’s been ten years since Dyson Cole walked out of the barn after taking Ireland McKidd’s innocence with him.

Another notch in his belt.

Then he was gone.

Ireland has lost everything she’s ever cared about. She’s trying to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart, when the last person to obliterate it barges back into her life – literally.

Dyson has everything – money, power, sex appeal – a real life Adonis and women line up outside his door. But he’d gladly give up his whorish ways for the one woman he walked away from.

She’s wrecked, broken, a shell of the girl he once knew.

He’s incapable of ignoring what she means to him.

She’s irresistible.

He’s undeniable.

PROLOGUE

IRELAND – AGE 18

The Sound of Silence – Disturbed

I remember it like it was yesterday. March 31, 2006.

It’s hard to forget something that happens right after your birthday. At barely fifteen, the only things that mattered to most girls was attracting the boy of their dreams, shopping and sleep overs.

To me, what mattered most was the boy. But he wasn’t just a boy. He was older than me by two years, a junior, the star football player, and my brother’s best friend.

He was everything to me; the reason I got up in the morning, the thing I thought about when I went to bed at night. It was always him.

From the moment he stepped inside our little school, I knew he would be everything to me one day. Over the years, we didn’t grow apart, no, we grew closer. My brother became his best friend and there was hardly a day that went by that I didn’t see him, usually at my house playing with Dusty.

As I got a little older, my feelings for him grew and morphed into something different, something unexpected and something…more.

I remember how our relationship changed, but I also remember how he changed too.

When he wasn’t spending time with my brother and me, he would spend it with some random girl I usually didn’t know. I remember Dusty would get butt hurt because his friend would ditch him for whatever girl he was wasting his time with.

I paid attention, listening closely to Dusty’s ramblings about how his best friend ditched him, but it quickly became apparent that his best friend wasn’t seeing just one girl, no, he had an entire harem of them. One day or week it would be one chick, then it would be Dusty, then it would be another chick, then another and another.

The summer before my freshman year that all changed. He seemed to ditch the girls in favor of my brother and they hung out all the time, which of course, meant I was around too.

I’ll never forget the day he was here, playing video games with my brother and he was getting bored. He’d said to my brother, “Let’s get out of here.” I was disappointed.

I had always sat on the couch, usually pretending to read, secretly watching him. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the smile I loved or his gorgeous violet eyes. I didn’t want them to leave. It had disappointed me enough that I remember fighting back tears. I don’t know why, but I’d come to expect him to be here every day, and on the rare day that he wasn’t, it was awful.

They’d turned off their video game and gotten up to leave.

Then the smile had come.

He had stared down at me over my book and I had looked up at him through my eyelashes. He had the most beautiful smile on his face. God, my heart had stopped in my chest. His violet eyes had sparkled in the sunlight coming through the window and I had quit breathing.

“You coming, VeeVee?”

I was so shocked that he had asked me that I sat there gaping at him like a fish. He raised an eyebrow at me; it was quite possibly the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

My brother had tried to argue with him and I remember him saying something about it not being fair to leave me alone in the house. In that moment, I felt protected, cared for even, and it made me smile.

That day started it all.

That was the day Dyson C. Richards noticed me.

That was eight months before he’d shatter my heart into a million tiny pieces.

It’s become abundantly clear that I need to let this go.

That day, the day he noticed me, was four years ago today.

It was the beginning of what would become the ‘summer of my life’. The only summer, really.

Being fifteen, I didn’t know what I had, not until eight months later when he said all the right things, had all the right moves, and I caved.

It was the night of March 31st.

I had been barely fifteen and not in the frame of mind to make this kind of decision, but I couldn’t help myself.

Despite my innocence, even I knew that Dyson was sex on legs. The girls knew it, I knew it. But Dyson and I had something special, something more than anything he’d had with any of the other girls I’d seen him with. I was the only girl, besides his mother, who had been in his life for more than five and half seconds.

I was special.

So was my innocence.

Only I didn’t know it at the time.

I handed it to him without a care in the world. Desperate to feel him, and be that close to him for reasons I didn’t understand at the time.

I will never forget the look in his eyes when he slid inside me the first time. His violet eyes had seemed to grow darker and his gaze had burrowed straight into my soul.

I was scared as hell, sweat had glistened over my skin, shivers from the coldness of the air and the desire I was feeling for the boy above me had racked my frame.

It had felt amazing.

It was everything to me.

I watched our relationship shift and morph in his eyes. I could feel it; every ounce of what I felt for him was poured back at me.

Then it was gone.

Shattered into jagged pieces that I would be forced to walk on for the next four years.

He left that barn after saying some devastating things to me and I had tried to tell myself it was because we’d connected, I knew it, and he knew it.

I didn’t know what I was going to say to him the next day. Talking to Dyson was nearly impossible to do because he always managed to muddle my brain. He’d had an uncanny ability to make my mind go blank. But I was determined.

I had marched the three blocks to his house. My determination was only sidetracked by the fear of what I would find when I got there. Both emotions rolled through me like waves in the ocean, bringing with it a fight or flight decision.

As I drew closer to his house, something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t- my heart dropped to my toes as it hit me. Everything that I’d noticed and dismissed in the couple weeks leading up to this came crashing down on me. His absence from school and my house. Dusty’s piss poor attitude about everything, and even the way my mom behaved, but no one had bothered to tell me. The house had stood there empty.

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, my already broken heart was crushed.

He was gone.

He didn’t say good-bye.

He never even told me he was leaving.

Happy fucking April Fools’ to me.

I’ve held on to this for way too long. Four years too long.

I’m back, standing in front of the house that held so much promise that April morning. I was going to tell him everything, but I never got the chance.

I never got to give him a piece of my mind and most importantly, I never got to say good-bye.

I never told anyone what happened in the barn that night.

I went through it all, all the stages of grief. First, denial. I was convinced he would show up at school. That he’d just moved across town, that he wasn’t gone. After about four days of him not showing up, I got angry as hell. That was the longest phase. I was mad at my mother. She was friends with his mom, how could she not tell me they were moving? I was furious with my brother. He’d argued that Dyson swore he was going to tell me himself, that’s why he was here alone that day. I didn’t believe him.

I had tried to convince my brother to let me talk to him, but he refused, denied even knowing where he was or how to reach him.

That’s when the depression finally set in. I didn’t eat hardly at all, I barely got through school, though my grades never slipped, and I guess I’ve been living in that depressed little bubble for the last four years.

I knew somewhere, deep down in my gut, that he would come back for me.

After Dusty graduated – Dyson had too – I thought maybe he’d show up back in Joplin, but he didn’t. Dusty had made remarks the last couple of years about missing his friend or bitching that everyone in school seemed to have it out for Dyson. He’d rumble on about how it was unfair the way they were treating Dyson. Just because he’d moved away, people needed someone to blame, but I think most of the girls in our school just needed someone to hate. Dyson was a player, but every girl seemed to think they were in love with him. I was no different. Then the summer ended, Dusty went off to college in Chicago, leaving me to finish high school. Alone.

When I graduated from high school a month ago, I’d hoped he would show up, like Dusty did, and surprise me, but he didn’t.

And now, I stand here in front of what was his house. Twirling the rock in my hand. Consumed with the memories of the man I loved, the man I desperately wanted to talk to, the man who would never come home again.

It was an acceptance I was unwilling to face, but I had no choice.

The rock in my hand grew heavier by the minute. It was the last thing connecting me to him. It was the sister to the rock I’d given him on his first day of school in Joplin.

“He’s never coming back,” I said through tears. “You don’t know where he is or what he’s doing, but obviously, you aren’t part of that plan.” The pep talk I gave myself worked. The tears streamed down my face as my new reality washed over me and I threw the rock at his house. It pinged off the door. That rock was my heart that rock represented everything about the man I loved and it landed on the steps, where it would stay, forever.

iBOOKS

Best Selling Erotic, Paranormal and Contemporary Romance author Zoey Derrick comes from Glendale, Arizona. Zoey, was a mortgage underwriter by day and is now a romance and erotica novelist full-time. She writes stories as hot as the desert sun itself. It is this passion that drips off of her work, bringing excitement to anyone who enjoys a good and sensual love story.

Not only does she aim to take her readers on an erotic dance that lasts the night, it allows her to empty her mind of stories we all wish were true.  Her stories are hopeful yet true to life, skillfully avoiding melodrama and the unrealistic, bringing her gripping Erotica only closer to the heart of those that dare dipping into it.

The intimacy of her fantasies that she shares with her readers is thrilling and encouraging, climactic yet full of suspense. She is a loving mistress, up for anything, of which any reader is doomed to return to again and again.

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PROLOGUE & TRAILER REVEAL ~ Dirty Love by Kimberly Blalock

Oct 5

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Dirty_Love_e-cover

Cover Design: EDGE PR and Design

Release Date: October 25, 2016

Synopsis

In the light of darkness is an undeniable need to run, disappear, slither away only barely scraping by with hope that maybe just maybe, there’s a way of escape.

My name is Oliva Basari. I escaped one hell only to be trapped inside another, darkness and fear seething through my veins and invading my every thought.

A new city, a new job, a new persona and then…. I fell in lust, I fell in love…hell, I just fell.

From the darkness my alter ego became real, I was Tess, the stirring of someone or something else burning in my gut until she was all there was.

I didn’t fear what would happen if remorse knocked on my door nor did I fear the lustful way I stalked them, preyed upon them—the ones that couldn’t have me, the ones who wished they could taste me—I was their darkness until I met one very tall, dark, and forbiddingly handsome Mr. Black. He hated me watching with darkness in his tormented eyes. He scared me, intimidated me, and left me questioning my own sanity.

Until he didn’t.

He was the one thing I let myself submit too, his touch, the way he slid his knuckles across my flesh, igniting a dangerous spark inside of me.

In the end, we’re all captured souls waiting for release or the escape from our own maniacal thoughts.

In the end, we are all prisoners of the flesh.

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prologue

She slept with blankets slipping from her taut body. I inhaled deeply as my dick ached to be inside of her tight pussy. I didn’t actually know what her pussy felt like… Was it soft, delectable, electric, and glorious? I imagined all of those possibilities and intended on finding out soon, but I wasn’t ready yet. I needed her to come to me. To beg me for it before I could give her everything that I couldn’t stop thinking about.

I slid my hand inside of my nightstand drawer retrieving the lube I’d used on the woman the night before. They were covetous, egocentric, and contemptuous. Nothing that interested me. It rather disinterested me, actually. Olivia was the exact opposite of those women, a contradiction of everything they stood for.

I unbuttoned my jeans and sagged against the chair that had the best view of her bed. Of course, I’d arranged it that way. Her ass was so fucking perfectly round, tight, and juicy. Nothing could possibly be as good as that ass. I was sure of it, and I intended on finding out soon enough.

I pulled my pants down to lay across my thick thighs and untucked my cock from my briefs. The slippery lube slid out of the bottle and melted against my heated hand. Her body shifted slowly as my hand dipped against my flesh. I stilled, waiting to see if she’d wake up this time. She’d been on edge lately, not sleeping well. It’d been pretty fucking obvious she’d been having a difficult time with something. I shrugged off the thought. I’d wanted to fix whatever was wrong, comfort her, fuck her until her problems were mere memories from a past before me or very thin memories that popped like bubbles do in the sunlight. But I’d remain a circumspect observer, for now.

Her body turned just as my hand landed on my hot, thick, pulsing cock. I squeezed, gripping the skin down my shaft… hard. A deep-seated moan reverberated from my throat. It felt so fucking relishable… gratifying. My cock jerked from the sensations it was experiencing. Her tits bounced into position… the position of foreplay among lovers. Nipples hard and round, perky and wanting, waiting for my tongue to flick across the hardened flesh in heated arousal. She adjusted from her stomach to her back, completing her task in search of comfort. Ironic really, that here at this moment she’d seemed extroverted, willing to be free when in reality she was demure. Well, unless she was dancing, but that was only a few hours a night. And I wouldn’t allow myself that opening to taste her flesh. Not yet.

“Ah fuck!” I moaned, the sound feral. I lived alone, and no one could hear me and fuck it if they could, I didn’t care.

My strokes became tight, stroking the entire length of my cock. Cum slipped out of the head as I smothered the silkiness of my arousal across the thin, sensitive flesh. I jacked off to her perfect fucking body.

Her hand crossed her chest, and I imagined she was touching herself there while I licked her pussy, sweeping my tongue against the nub bringing her to ecstasy.

I’d dreamt about that for a long fucking time. One year to be exact. She’d moved into the apartment across from mine with her friend. Her boyfriend moved in just a few months later. Fucking asshole is never there, and he fucks like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Probably doesn’t, to be honest. Little prick has a small ass cock, too. If he came even a tiny bit close to getting her off, I’d rock her fucking world. When I finally take her in every way imaginable, I will do just that.

My strokes became shorter, tighter, faster as I watched her tight body. I imagined her full lips wrapped around my cock sucking hard, harder. Her tongue would flick across the head lapping up my cum into her hot mouth; she’d smile as she squeezed me roughly, begging for more of me to seep into her mouth. She’d suck me the hardest I’d ever been sucked.

“Oh fuck!” Cum shot from the head of my dick. “Fucking shit, Olivia!” I yelled her name as I pulsed against my palm.

Just as I cleaned myself, her jackoff boyfriend arrived stripping his clothes off as he snuck into bed like a predator, opening his mouth ready to take her. My fists slammed into the wall next to the window. It left a large, round hole that I’d deal with later.

My mind raced. I wanted to go over to her apartment and rip him out of her bed. I wanted to kill him. If he didn’t get a fucking clue, I was going to do just that. And soon!

I got plenty of pussy. Shit, where I worked, it was thrown at my cock in groves, but I wanted Olivia Basari. Only Olivia. When I fucked someone, she was the only face I saw. Her sweet lips sucking me off until I came in her sweet fuckable mouth.

Convenient for me, I’d get to see that face and body every day and night. She was a dancer at Epic, the strip club I owned. She worked for me, but it wasn’t enough. I want to own every inch of her. I’ve kept my thoughts to myself. No one knew how I felt, and they sure as fuck didn’t know the malevolent thoughts that infiltrated my mind. Funny really, infiltrate makes it sound as though I didn’t want the thoughts there. As though I’d set up a road block of sorts keeping them away, but in fact, I’d caressed every single one of them. I lured them in with the tips of my fingers promising jewels of satisfaction.

I watched her from the two-way window in my office while she danced for the scum of the city. I pretended that she was dancing exclusively for me. I fucked while I watched her from that window. The girls didn’t have a clue what I was doing when I had them bent over gripping their flesh into my hands. All they wanted was the orgasm they’d get whether I tried to give it or not. Sometimes I did. I loved pussy. It was only Olivia’s I was thinking of when I sucked on their clits, however. Slipping my fingers inside their wet, dripping, pulsating pussies brought cry after cry from their dirty mouths.

I stripped my clothes and showered. I’d see her at work in an hour. I couldn’t watch that fucker touch her any longer.

She was mine.

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About the Author

Kimberly is an International bestselling author of the Angel Trilogy. She has been writing since she was a young girl growing up in Kansas City, Mo. Reading and writing has always been a big part of her life. She enjoys a world she can get lost in while reading a good book. A wife and mother to four beautiful children she decided she wasn’t busy enough. She spent some time chasing down fugitives as a bounty hunter then laid down her hand cuffs and finished her college degree in nursing.

Kimberly loves discovering new music to jam out to and loves anything that’s different. When Kimberly isn’t writing she is playing superhero for her children.

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EXCERPT REVEAL ~ Touching Down by Nicole Williams

Oct 5

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Coming October 9th

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The whole world might be in love with him. But all he’s ever loved is her.

Grant Turner’s name is synonymous with football. The fans and media can’t get enough of the player known as The Invincible Man, a nickname he earned while growing up in one of the toughest neighborhoods in the country and the nickname he’s kept by being one of the best players in professional football today. No one can take him down. He’s unstoppable.

But even a suit of armor has its weak point, and Grant’s has always been Ryan Hale.
They were a couple of kids when they fell in love, and just when it looked like the happy ending neither expected was within reach, Ryan disappeared. No explanations. No good-byes.

Grant coped by throwing himself into the game for seven years, and he’s finally moved on. Or so he thinks.

When she walks back into his life, all of those feelings come crashing back, despite the warnings in his head that tell him she’ll leave him again. Grant can withstand the league’s toughest defensive line, but he’s always been weak where she’s concerned.

No man can take Grant Turner down.

But one woman certainly can.

One woman will.

How had I gotten here?
That was the question still cycling through my head when I heard the shower turn off. In the minute that followed, I did everything I could not to think about what was behind that closed bathroom door. What being a wet and naked Grant Turner.
What being the only man I’d ever loved and the only man I ever would. My life felt like it was ending, but his was only really getting started. There’d be more for him, despite whatever he said or thought. There’d be love, heartache, and more love. For Grant, I would be one of the many. For me, he was the one of them all.
When the bathroom door opened, a fog of steam burst into the bedroom. It wasn’t a plume; it was a thick fog.
“Do you have any skin left after that scalding shower?” I asked, turning toward the dresser so my back was to the bathroom. Grant fresh from a shower had always been a weakness for me, and I guessed nothing about that had changed.
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
I saw him from the corner of my eyes, standing beside me. When my gaze shifted to confirm whether he had or had not scalded off his skin, my breath caught.
“Why are you naked?” I blinked a few times to keep my eyes facing north. It was a chore though. I felt as though two metal weights dangled from my eyeballs and were trying to draw them downward.
Grant chuckled, pulling open the bottom drawer. “I’m not naked.”
“Why are you mostly naked?” When the fight against gravity became too much and my eyes dropped below his navel, I literally felt flames licking up my throat. Fuck me. That man had always had an amazing body, but now . . . I knew women who’d auction off their souls for a chance to be entertained by a body like that for a night.
“Because I figured you wouldn’t prefer the alternative of me being fully naked.” Grant pinched at the white towel tied around his waist as he pulled a pair of light grey sweats from the drawer. “But since I can tell from your shock I was wrong, what the hell.” In one flick of a finger, the towel fell to the floor.
“Grant!” It came out as more of a shriek than I’d intended, but he was standing two feet in front of me, fully naked.
“What?” His voice was innocent, but his smirk was the opposite. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” His muscles rippled when he shrugged, tugging on his sweats. “Just seven years older is all.”
When he turned to pick up his abandoned towel, I got the full view of his back which, like this, looked as wide as the span of my arms.
“And seven years bigger,” I muttered, still unable to believe he’d just bared it all like that. Actually, the more I thought about it, I shouldn’t have been so shocked. Grant wasn’t exactly modest.
Glancing back at me, he winked. “Why thank you. Glad you noticed.”
When I caught what he was getting at, heat settled beneath my cheeks. “That’s not what I was talking about.”
“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t what you were thinking about.” He slid the waistband of his sweats around until he found a comfortable spot. Which happened to be a good half foot below his navel.
“In your hurry to make me uncomfortable, you forgot to put on underwear.” I flattened my expression to give the impression that I was not half as shook up as he thought I was.
The truth was, I was probably twice as shook up as he thought.
“I don’t believe in them,” he said simply.
“You don’t believe in what? Underwear?” I felt my forehead crease.
“I’m anti-underwear.”
“Anti-underwear?”
“You know how some people are anti-gun or anti-abortion? Well, I’m anti-underwear,” he explained with a shrug. “But are you?”
My arms folded and I looked across the room. “Am I what?”
“Uncomfortable?” He moved a step closer, when he’d already been five steps too close.
Now, it wasn’t just the image of him clouding my mind. It was the way he smelled. The sound of his breath. The feel of the warmth cascading off of his body.
Sealing my eyes closed, I focused. I imagined the most Zen, peaceful place on the planet. “No,” I said as firmly as I was capable.
“Liar.” I heard the twisted smile in his voice. After a moment, I felt him move closer. “Why do I make you uncomfortable? I never used to.”
My eyes opened right into his. As dark as Grant’s eyes were, a person would never notice the flecks of light in them if they didn’t get close enough to see them. Up close, his eyes were more light than dark.
“You don’t make me uncomfortable.” I could hear the lie in my voice like it was a shout.
One by one, Grant’s hands formed around the outsides of my elbows, his fingers circling around my arms. His body pressed closer until his chest touched mine each time he inhaled. “Then why are you trembling?” His head dropped, his mouth moving just outside of my ear. “Why do I make you uncomfortable, Ryan?”
His voice, his body. His words, his touch. He was wrecking my resolve, one moment at a time, until I could feel the last of it about to crumble.
“It’s been a long day, Grant.”
“It has.” His head nodded beside mine. “Let’s keep up this trend and make it a long night too.”
My heart started to echo in my eardrums as a growing ache pulsed inside me.
“We should get to bed.” My voice was trembling now too.
“We should.” His head dropped lower to my neck. He took in a long breath, like he was trying to take me inside him. “Yours or mine?”
Despite my resolve, I smiled. “They’re all yours technically.”
“They’re whatever you want them to be just as long a you say which one you want me to carry you into. Or feel free to point in the general area too. I can figure it out.”

Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.

Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.

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BLOG TOUR ~ Stadium of Lights by Tia Lewis

Oct 5

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Title : Stadium of Lights

Author : Tia Lewis

Genre : Steamy Sports Romance

He can’t help claiming her. But can he love her?

Max Anderson enjoys all the perks of being a star NFL quarterback―including the women. He has no intention of changing his carefree, hard-loving lifestyle … until a twist of fate reunites him with the girl he knew growing up.

Abby Morrison has worked hard to become a physical therapist. She knows she needs to keep things professional with Max — but the truth is, she’s always loved him. Back then, she hid it. Now, it’s not so easy.

As they rekindle their friendship, the heat between them is impossible to ignore. Soon it flares out of control, and the fallout threatens to ruin everything. Can they salvage a future together … or will the consequences wreck their lives?

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The time came around nine o’clock when we’d all stuffed ourselves. Abby stood up from the table, a little wobbly. I swooped in, waiting for her to decide it was time to go.

“Come on. I’ll take you home,” I murmured, taking her by the elbow. She looked up at me.

“No,” she murmured.

“What?”

“No. I don’t want you to take me home. Now will you move?”

“Wait. Slow down.”

“I want somebody else, Max. Now move.”

“Who?”

“Anybody. It doesn’t matter. Just not you.” She shook me off—thank God we’d both been whispering, or practically, because it didn’t seem like anybody else noticed. I followed her out the door to the restaurant’s entrance.

“You can’t drive in this condition,” I warned her.

“Then I’ll get a cab. You can leave now.” She glared at me, her cheeks flushed.

“What?”

“You ruined it. You always ruin it.”

“How the hell did I ruin anything?”

She looked back into the restaurant, frowning. “I was having fun. People were talking to me, seeing me, liking me. And you had to take over like you always do.”

My car pulled up in front of us, and I took the keys from the valet. “Come on. I’ll drive you home, and we can talk about it on the way.” I practically threw her into the car before she could curse me out, then got in myself. Once I locked the doors from my side, she couldn’t open them.

“What the fuck Max!” She slapped the dashboard, then sank into her seat with a groan. “I was having fun. I was about to get laid, damn it!”

I bit my tongue until I calmed down. “By whom?”

“I don’t know! What did it matter? I was gonna get some for me, for once. And you won’t let me. I have to always be there for you, but you can never be there for me. You couldn’t just let me enjoy myself. No, you probably wanted to tell me all about your stupid fucking cheerleader girlfriend and ask me what you should do about her!” There was so much venom in her voice. She hated me.

I pulled over to the shoulder of the road. “What are you doing?” she asked. I unbuckled my belt without saying a word, then turned to her.

“You wanna know why I wanted to take you home?” I reached out, grabbing her by the shoulders. I pulled her to me before she could push me away and crushed my mouth against hers.

She only fought me for a split second before giving in. She sighed, relaxing, and I wrapped my arms around her. Her lips were so sweet, soft and yielding. When I slid my tongue between them, they opened to give me better access. I tasted the inside of her mouth, taking my time. This girl who had been my friend for so long, and she was right—I’d used her in a way. This girl who was always there for me without asking anything in return. This sexy, incredible girl.

The kiss deepened, with her tongue dancing alongside mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck, almost growling. Sounding hungry, desperate. I ran one of my hands over her body, listening to the way the breath caught in her throat. She whined a little, pressing against me, and when I made contact with her tits she moaned into my mouth.

By the time the kiss ended, we were both breathless. Her eyes were wide, stunned.

“That’s why,” I whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

Stadium of Lights was a good read, although I must admit that I’d didn’t enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed the last book of Tia’s that I read!

Max drove me up the wall at points – he was full of himself, a walking, talking ego and not very likable at the start of the book (he did get better as the story went on). He wasn’t sure that he was interested in Abby but was p’d off that one of his teammates was interested.. talk about mixed signals for a gal!!!
Abby was likable though I would have preferred her to have more confidence when dealing with Max at times. She’s worked hard to get where she is and is really good at what she does, she should have kept that in mind and not had dips of self-doubt at times!
One thing that I’m not a fan of in books is a lack of communication and this happened with these two at points… and a couple of things were kinda rushed or not cleared up which I thought could have been rounded off.

When they got together they were smokin’ hot, they had a connection, good banter, they liked each other and worked well together.

As I said, a good read, not one I’m not sure I’ll go back and reread but I’m looking forward to what Tia has next!! 3.75*.

Tia Lewis is a romance author from the Midwest who writes about smart, sexy, sassy women and hot, possessive alpha males.

Her favorite bad boys to write about include sports players, mafia, bikers, billionaires and the bad-ass next door.

You can find her cooking, reading, or traveling when she’s not busy working on her next release.

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text LEWIS to 31996!

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BLOG TOUR ~ His Best Mistake by Diane Alberts

Oct 5

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

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Shillings Agency #6

One night with a stranger…

Security expert Mark Matthews has loved, and lost, and has no intention of ever loving again—especially not a woman who thrives on her life being in danger. Now, hot, meaningless sex with strangers he had no intention of ever seeing again? That’s a whole other story. And it’s all life as a single father allows him to enjoy. But when he meets a woman who refuses to tell him her real name, the game is on, because she’s everything he swore to stay away from. Daisy O’Rourke has bad idea written all over her, but he’s in too deep to walk away now…

Click HERE to enter !

Five Ebook sets of The Shillings Agency series
by Diane Alberts (books 1-5)

They walked down the hallway side by side, their arms brushing. Every time they touched, something inside her tensed up even more, building up pressure until she was sure she was going to explode if he didn’t either stop, or do something more than accidentally brush against her.

When she halted at her door, he stopped directly behind her, towering over her. “God, how tall are you? Six-four?” she blurted out.

“Exactly.” He cocked his head. “How’d you know?”

“I guessed.”

“You’re good at that.” He stepped closer, his nostrils flaring slightly when she swayed closer. He looked way too sexy standing there with his first few shirt buttons undone, and his jacket open. She wasn’t even sure when he’d done that, but it was hot as hell. “At guessing.”

It would be so easy to grab the lapels of that jacket and pull his closer. And she’s get to find out what he tasted like – whisky, more than likely, but still, she needed to know. The old her, the one before she lost everything…she would have gone for it. Would have taken what she wanted and not hesitated. But it had been so long since she touched a man, let alone kissed one, and he wasn’t William. He’d never be William.

But tonight…He could be hers.

Resting an arm over her her head on the wall, he offered her a small smile, and tugged oh her hair playfully. “What are you thinking about that’s got you blushing, Scarlett?”

“Nothing.” she said, her cheeks going even hotter. She spun and pressed her key against the reader until it blinked green. The heat of his body was directly behind her, burning her.

Hands trembling, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. She should go inside. Leave him in the hallway, along with any bad choices she might have made with him. But…

Was it bad? Was it so wrong to want one night where she didn’t miss the love of her life? One night where she didn’t have to be alone?

“Would you like some water? I have a few bottles in my mini fridge.”

He shoved his hands in his pocket and rocked back on his heels, letting out a soft laugh. “If I come in there, we both know it’s not going to be for water.”

“Like I said.” Heart pounding, palms sweating, she lifted her chin. “Want to come in?”

Diane Alberts is a USA TODAY bestselling Contemporary Romance author with Entangled Publishing. Under the name Jen McLaughlin, she also writes New York Times, USA TODAY, and Wall Street Journal bestselling books with Penguin Random House. She was mentioned in Forbes alongside E. L. James as one of the breakout independent authors to dominate the bestselling lists. Diane is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

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SPECIALIST BLOG TOUR ~ Baby Game by Andie M Long

Oct 5

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

THE BABY GAME

BY ANDIE M LONG

SPECIALIST BLOG TOUR BY FRANCESSCA’S PR & DESIGNS

SPECIAL BLOG TOUR EVENT CLICK HERE

The next installment in the bestselling Alpha Series.

The Baby Game

Ronnie Taylor and husband Harry had agreed they’d wait a few years until starting a family. So when Ronnie discovers she’s pregnant after being a bit too casual with her contraception, she finds herself in a dilemma. Harry is taking his mother on the trip of a lifetime at the same time as their bundle of joy is due. If she tells him, he’ll cancel the trip and she doesn’t want his mother to miss out.

In typical Ronnie style, she ropes in TV Researcher and friend Nina, and pretends she’s filming a reality show about eating junk food. She’s going to blame all her baby weight gain on burgers. Surely she can’t get away with it? Or can she..?

With cravings for dog food, a mission to match-make her midwife and a never-to-be forgotten speech for a Healthy Eating charity event, it’s another hilarious adventure with the loveable, crazy ‘ladygardener’.

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An extra special chapter written exclusively for the Baby Game Blog Tour by Andie M. Long.

This scene takes place in New York after the birth of Stella and Gabe’s second child.

When babysitting goes crap.

“Can we ask you a huge favour?” Gabe comes walking into the lounge wearing the appearance of parents of newborns. His face weary and ashen.
“Sure. Ask away,” I reply.
“Do you think you and Harry could look after Zander for a couple of hours this afternoon? It’s just I feel that Athena’s feeling a little left out and we could use some fresh air and peace. We thought we’d take her to Central Park Zoo. While you’re here, you could enjoy extra special baby cuddles.” Gabe leans into the crib and strokes the side of his newborn son’s face.
“Well, how could I resist baby cuddles?” I smile. I glance at Harry who nods his head.
“Yes, we’ll do it.” I tell Gabe. “You go get ice creams at the zoo and spoil my little girl.”
“God that sounds nice, being spoiled.” Stella raises her head up from where it’s been resting on a sofa cushion. She’s been dozing at the side of the crib for the last couple of hours after Zander stayed awake most of the night. He is of course, now sleeping soundly in the daytime.
“I was talking about Athena, not you.” I retort.
“Figures.” Stella rolls her eyes. “Right I’m going to pop in the shower to try and wake myself up and then we’ll get going. Oh, Gabe let’s have lunch out too.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll get Athena ready,” adds Gabe. “Will you two be alright with Zander for a bit?”
“Well, let’s hope so seeing as you’re leaving him with us all afternoon.” I shoo them out of the room.
“You’ll have to do the nappies, I’ll puke.” Says my husband.
“You’re so pathetic.” I push his arm. “You are so doing a nappy and I’m going to video you doing it.”
“How come it doesn’t bother you?”
“I’m always dealing with cat and dog shit in gardens. You get used to it after a while.” I’ve also had to have a blood test for toxoplasmosis as their faecal matter can affect embryos and cause potential blindness but of course I can’t tell my husband that.
Later, we say goodbye to Gabe, Stella and Athena and return to the lounge. The room is bathed in sunlight, one curtain drawn across to shade Zander. He looks like an angel, with his little chubby cheeks and contented face.
Harry and I spend the next thirty minutes making out on the sofa as Zander continues to sleep. Then Harry utters the words that change everything.
“Piece of piss this baby lark isn’t it? I can’t understand what people moan about.”
I try to place my hands over his mouth but it’s too late, the words have been ejected into the world, where the forces of nature are about to laugh at us from a great height. As Harry knocks my hands away from his mouth asking me what I’m doing, he jolts the end of the crib.
“Waaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh.”
I get up and stand over the crib and stroke Zander’s nose like I’ve seen Stella do. It does nothing. In fact his little face scrunches up and gets red. I reach into the crib and pick him up.
“Shh Zee, it’s Auntie Ronnie. It’s all okay. Shh.” I rock him in my arms.
Zander settles in my arms, so I quit the rocking.
“Don’t stop,” shouts Harry.
My eyes widen, “Why not? What’s wrong?” I panic.
“Nothing. I’m watching your boobs jiggle about, it’s fucking awesome.”
He gets a dirty look for that remark and not an encouraging one.
I attempt to lay Zander back in his crib but he’s having none of it.
“Do you think he’s hungry?” I ask Harry.
“I don’t know. Shall I warm up a bottle to see?”
“Yeah. Go on.”
Zander was indeed hungry and guzzles his bottle down in what seems like nanoseconds. After I wind him he seems quite settled in my arms. I’m not really keen on trying to put him back down in his crib when he’s settled but Harry’s nuzzling my neck. He’s obviously got the horn on and wants a bit of attention himself.
“Harry, pack it in.”
“I’m trying to.”
Suddenly Zander’s face goes puce again.
“What’s happening to him Harry? Something’s wrong.”
That something reveals itself as a massive fart.
“Oh my God, that absolutely reeks,” says Harry making gipping noises. “I’ll tidy this bottle away in the kitchen.”
“No you will not. You’ll put the baby changing mat on the floor and check if Zander’s made a deposit.”
“Ron, I can’t change a nappy. You know what I’m like with smells.”
“What about when we have a kid?” I ask him.
“I’ll employ a nappy changer.”
The trouble is he’s probably not kidding.
“Come on. Common cognitive behavioural therapy approach required. Aversion therapy. The best way to get over it is to do it.”
“I don’t want to know how you’re an expert in CBT.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I was given a course as part of treatment for my apparent stalking. Not aversion therapy, just training in impulse control.”
“And how’s that worked for you?”
“My impulse was to get a crush on the Therapist. He signed me off if I promised not to visit him at home again.”
Harry shakes his head.
“Anyway.” I place a stinking Zander on the mat. “Crack on. I’ll walk you through it.”
I look at little Zander on the mat. He’s so very tiny. I can’t believe we will have one of our own soon.
“Take off his bottoms and then undo the poppers at the bottom of his bodysuit.”
As Harry removes the little leggings I can see that the leg holes of his body suit are a mustard colour. Harry notices and winces.
“Jesus, has he been rolling in piccalilli?” Harry turns to me looking like a man who’s been told to go on a lifesaving mission from which he may never return. “Are there any gloves?”
“No, there are the baby wipes if you get any on your hands. Get on with it, poor little guys miserable.”
Harry carefully undoes the poppers and takes off Zander’s bodysuit after I tell him we must put him a new one on. As he lifts it he smears poo on Zander’s head. “Hang on mate, I’ll get that off with a wipe,” he informs the newborn. “I’ll take your nappy off first.”
There’s not that much poo in the nappy to be honest. Just a yellowy spray of liquid. It’s spread itself around the nappy. As Harry puts the nappy to one side and reaches over for a wipe, Zander’s foot touches his bottom smearing shit on the mat. His hands excitedly pump and before the wipe is in Harry’s hand, Zander also has it on his hand and the side of his mouth.
“Oh Christ.”
Harry leans over Zander and wipes first his face, then his hand. “Hey little guy, it’s not so bad is it? Uncle Harry will clean you up.” Harry grabs Zanders other hand and lifts it to his lips and kisses it. Unfortunately what Harry hadn’t realised is that while he was cleaning him, Zanders other hand had touched his dirty bottom.
“Arrrgggh. Oh my God, I have shit in my mouth. I repeat I have baby shit in my mouth.”
I really do want to help, but I’m videoing and far too busy being in hysterics.
“Harry you can’t abandon the baby, you’re going to have to wait. Just rub a wipe across your face for now and clean Zander up.”
Harry takes a deep breath, grabs a handful of baby wipes and starts again. He wipes Zander’s other hand, his feet and finally his poo covered bottom. Then he lifts up his legs and wipes the mat underneath him.
“I did it. Oh my God, I actually did it.” Harry turns to me. “I survived a nappy change.” He leans over Zander. “Hiya gorgeous guy. How’s it feel to be all clean, hey?”
Zander answers by spraying my husband in urine.

When Gabe and Stella return home and come into the lounge, they both raise an eyebrow at the fact my husband is shirtless while their baby sleeps away in his crib.
“It’s not what you think.” Answers Harry.
“Well you can fill us in on your afternoon in a mo,” says Stella. “I’ve brought you a treat from the cafe at the park. I’ll get some plates.”
“Oh, what is it?” I ask, realising I’m ready for something to eat and drink.
“Toffee and banana mousse. It’s their speciality.” Stella takes the lid off the box.
Harry and myself peer into the box and catch sight of the light yellowy-brown mousse.
“Thanks so much but I think we’ll give it a miss Stella,” says Harry, gulping and trying his very best not to heave.

Purchase Links

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About The Author

Andie M. Long is author of The Alpha series which includes Amazon Number One Erotic Thriller The Alphabet Game; Co-writer of the Amazon Number One Erotic Romance/Adult fiction bestseller The Bunk Up with DH Sidebottom and The Ball Games series, amongst others.
She lives in Sheffield with her son and long suffering partner.
When not being partner, mother, employee or writer she can usually be found on Facebook or walking her whippet, Bella.
Andie will be signing in Liverpool and Newcastle 2017 and York 2018.

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SPOTLIGHT ~ Reckless in Texas (Texas Rodeo, #1) by Kari Lynn Dell

Oct 5

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Title: Reckless in Texas

Series: Texas Rodeo, #1

Author: Kari Lynn Dell

Pubdate: August 2^nd 2016

ISBN: 9781492631941

Violet Jacobs is fearless. At least, that’s what the cowboys she snatches from under the hooves of bucking horses think. Outside the ring, she’s got plenty of worries rattling her bones: her young son, her mess of a love life, and lately, her family’s struggling rodeo. When she takes business into her own hands and hires on a hotshot bullfighter, she expects to start a ruckus. She never expected Joe Cassidy. Rough and tumble, cocky and charming, Joe’s everything a superstar should be—and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s way out of Violet’s league.

Joe came to Texas to escape a life spiraling out of control. He never planned on sticking around, and he certainly never expected to call this dry and dusty backwater home. But Violet is everything he never knew he was missing, and the deeper he’s pulled into her beautiful mess of a family, the more he realizes this fierce rodeo girl may be offering him the one thing he never could find on his own.

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About the Author

Kari Lynn Dell is a ranch-raised Montana cowgirl who attended her first rodeo at two weeks old and has existed in a state of horse-induced poverty ever since.

She lives on the Blackfeet Reservation in her parents’ bunkhouse along with her husband, her son, and Max the Cowdog, with a tipi on her lawn, Glacier National Park on her doorstep and Canada within spitting distance.

Her debut novel, The Long Ride Home, was published in 2015. She also writes a ranch and rodeo humor column for several regional newspapers and a national agricultural publication.

LINKS:

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A Letter from the Author

Dear Reader,

There’s something about a rodeo. The scent of early morning dew and the quiet crunch of gravel under metal shoes. The first drowsy simmer of excitement wakened by the dull thud of hooves on rubber as horses hop into the trailer. One last check to be sure all the rope bags and bridles and the one certain saddle blanket are packed into the tack compartment. The life-giving aroma of coffee in travel mugs, and a half-hearted debate about whose turn it is to climb behind the wheel, and who drove last time, and yeah, honey, I know you hate those idiot Portland drivers. I’ve got that shift.

There’s something about a rodeo that takes you to places you would otherwise never venture. Tiny towns on dead end highways, with names like Weippe and Rosebud. Into the chaos of city traffic in Minneapolis and Seattle. Through endless miles of high desert to Winnemucca, and crawling up the side of Hell’s Canyon to Asotin.

There’s something about a rodeo. Bucking bulls and horses drowsing in the midday sun, tails twitching at the occasional fly. Voices and laughter echoing through a maze of pickups and trailers in the contestant parking area. How’d you do at Homedale yesterday? Great ride at Fort Pierre last weekend. Did you draw a good one today? Yeah, I got on Thunderfoot at High River. Better have your hammer cocked, he’ll throw some moves at you.

The whistle of ropes as cowboys pull out their gear and warm up their arms. The jingle of tack and the slap of leather, punctuated by an occasional whinny. Damp earth and diesel smoke as the tractor rumbles around the arena, preparing the ground, and the first, tempting wafts of grilled beef from the concession stand. And underneath it all, a slow-building tension.

Almost time…

There’s something about a rodeo. Old men in battered, sweat-stained cowboy hats and pearl snap shirts, clustered together in the stands to relive the good times, shaking their heads at how fast these boys are nowadays. Babies in strollers, and their older siblings scampering around in boots and spurs, swinging kid-sized ropes and dreaming dreams as big as the world.

Bucking horses peering out through chute gates, bareback riders standing over them with hats pressed to hearts as the Star-Spangled Banner streams behind a galloping horse and the notes of the national anthem soar into a blue summer sky. Heads bowed as the announcer’s solemn baritone recites the Cowboy’s Prayer.

We ask, Lord, that you be with us in the arena of life…

There’s something about a rodeo. The simmer turning to a buzz as your moment creeps closer. Muscles tighten, lungs constrict. Relax. Breathe. The concerted effort to clear the clutter from your brain and be here, now, in this moment. This few seconds that are the culmination of all the hours of training and practice and travel. Hands that want to tremble from anticipation when you tighten cinches and test your loop. The creak of leather and the musky scent of horse sweat as you swing aboard. Reins that twitch in your hands, bottling up the equine nitro that churns beneath your saddle, eager for the instant of explosion.

Almost time…

Minutes drag, and then race, and then drag again. Relax. Breathe. Riding the wave of adrenaline to the razor-thin edge between ultimate effort and tipping over into a debilitating tangle of nerves. Focus. Clear. You’ve done this a thousand times. Shut down your mind, trust your body.

There’s something about a rodeo. That moment when it’s your name booming over the loudspeakers. You backing into the roping box, climbing down into the chute. A ton of muscle and adrenaline quivering beneath you, primed to launch. Ready, ready…

And then you nod your head.

There’s something about a rodeo. And I hope you’ll grab a copy of Reckless in Texas and come along for the pulse-pounding, heart-stopping ride.

Excerpt

Joe slid off his horse, face contorted with pain. He pressed his back against the nearest post and eased down, knees bent, hands clasped tight between his thighs, grinding out curses between clenched teeth. Violet dropped to a crouch between his feet, stomach churning at what she might find. Just a month earlier, she’d seen a team roper lose a thumb by catching it in his rope, and last year one of the tie-down ropers had crushed his wrist in a stray coil.

“Let me see.” She took hold of his forearms, trying to pull his hand out to where she could examine it.

“No.”

“Yes.” She slid her hands down to his wrists, not feeling any gross deformities or blood, but he still had his gloves on. “Is it your thumb?”

“Go. Away.”

“Stop being a baby.”

His right hand snapped up, whip-quick, and clamped on the back of her head, bringing them nose to nose, eye to eye. “It’s not my hand, Violet. It’s what’s underneath.”

“What’s—oh!”

Joe’s hand was cradling his crotch. That pop she’d heard? It was the knotted end of the rope whacking him where it counted. And her hand was right on top of his.

He bared his teeth. “Still wanna kiss it better?”

Mortification rolled over her, hot as molten lava. She tried to jerk away, but the force of Joe’s grip on her nape

tipped her off balance. She grabbed his shoulders and her not-inconsiderable weight knocked him sideways. They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. She scrambled to get her knees under her. One of them made contact with something solid. Joe yelped, twisting hard and fast, flipping Violet onto her back. She arched, bracing to fight him off.

“Stop!”

Violet froze.

Joe was sprawled on top of her, his body rigid. Air hissed in and out between his teeth and sweat beaded on his forehead. “Just…don’t…move,” he panted. “Honest to God, you knee me in the thigh again, I’m gonna puke right down the front of your shirt.”

Violet held her breath. If possible, she would’ve willed her heart to stop beating, in case the thud, thud, thud disturbed his stomach. Motherhood had done nothing to disable her very active gag reflex. As her head cleared, she sorted out what was where. Joe was draped over her, chest to chest, her kneecap flush against the inside of the thigh Dirt Eater had nailed. She carefully rotated her leg, removing the pressure.

“Thank you,” Joe breathed. “Just give me a minute to catch my air and I’ll get off of you.”

Her hands were still clamped on his shoulders, but she couldn’t find anyplace else to put them. The longer she stayed put, the more aware she became of all the hard, lovely muscle under his T-shirt. If it were Beni, she could rub his back to make him feel better. She imagined sliding her palm down the sleek curve of Joe’s spine. Imagined his reaction. Yeah. He would definitely misinterpret the gesture. Much like her body was beginning to misinterpret their current position, the lean length of him hot against her, his cheek pressed to her collarbone, his face buried in the curve of her neck. Each short puff of air was a hot stroke on her skin.

“You sound like you’re in labor,” she said.

He huffed a laugh that tickled her ear. “If having a kid hurts as bad as gettin’ whacked on the pecker with a nylon rope, I need to buy my mother flowers.”

“More like a new car,” Violet said drily. “And I thought it was your thigh.”

“It’s both now, thanks to you.”

“I was trying to help.”

“Uh-huh. I’m guessing this is why you’re a pickup man and not a paramedic.”

Degree by degree, the tension eased from his body, even as Violet wound up like a spring. Need coiled hot and low, and the urge to wiggle against him was almost intolerable.

“Up until then you were doing pretty good,” she said, by way of casual conversation. “I’ll have to tell Beni you can handle stock okay.”

“Gee, thanks.” She could hear the eye roll in his voice. He blew out a long, slow breath—then nuzzled his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. “You even smell good when you’ve been rolling in the dirt.”

She jerked her head away. “Do you always go around sniffing women like a damn stud horse?”

“Nah. If I were a stud horse, I’d do this.” He gave her a quick, light nip at the curve of her neck that electrified every nerve ending and shot a blue-white current straight to where his thigh was pressed between her legs.

She shoved at his shoulder. “Stop that!”

“Just wanted to see if you tasted good, too.” He pushed up onto his elbows, groaned, and eased sideways, an excruciating slide of body against body before he rolled clear and flopped onto his back, legs splayed. He lifted one hand in warning. “Stay back. I’ll be fine as long as you don’t help me anymore.”

No problem. Violet couldn’t move, paralyzed for a few breaths by the sudden, aching absence of his weight. Then she scrambled to her feet, slapping the dust from her butt and legs. “Take all the time you want, tough guy.”

His head snapped up. “You tackled me when I was already down.”

“I thought you were actually hurt.” She flipped a casual hand at him. “No, don’t get up. Katie and I can handle it.”

He made a noise like a pissed-off rattlesnake. She shook the dirt out of her hair, tugged her cap down low, and went to deal with the bulls before she lost her head and tackled him again.

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BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

I enjoyed Reckless in Texas way more than I expected to and I’ll definitely be checking out the other books from Kari Lynn Dell.

What I really liked, surprisingly, was how much info and fact was in the book around the workings of the rodeo, bullfighting and a horse farm. All of that pulled me into the story as much as the characters did!

Both Violet and Joe were good, likable characters. They both have some issues that they are working to resolve and neither is looking for or expecting what they found with the other. To begin with they were combustable, but not in a ‘lets get it on’ way – they had an obvious attraction but when they were anywhere near each other they generally rubbed each other up the wrong way more often than not and sparks went flying! Finally they started being honest with themselves and opened up to what was in front of them.
There was some confusion, a bit of a lack of communication and a ‘will they ever get it together’ moment that all contributed to a story that kept me engaged and hoping for everything to work out for the two of them!

A cocky, infamous fun friend, a cute wee boy, an ex (who at points seemed keen on losing the ex status), close family and friends all rounded out a supporting cast that added up to a really great read! I’m looking forward to the next book in the Texas Rodeo series and finding out how things go for Delon.

I rate Reckless in Texas 4.5*

~ T xx

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BLOG TOUR ~ 12 Steps to Mr. Right by Cindi Madsen

Oct 4

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

12 Steps to Mr. Right
by Cindi Madsen

Publication Date: September 26, 2016
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Contemporary Select, Romance

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Synopsis:

12 steps to finding Mr. Right, composed by dating coach extraordinaire Savannah Gamble

1: Admit to being powerless over your attraction to the wrong type of guy. (Like Lincoln Wells, who broke your heart after an unforgettable one-night stand.)
2: Believe Mr. Right is out there.
3: Take inventory of past mistakes. (See step #1.)
4: Make a list of qualities you want in a man. (Avoid charming baseball players/reason you made these rules in the first place)
5: Take charge of your own life.
6: Learn to love yourself.
7: Sort the hookup guys from the relationship guys. (Avoid a painful brushoff after an amazing night together.)
8: Never, ever settle. (Even if the chemistry is off-the-charts.)
9: Don’t believe you can change a guy. (Once a commitment-phobe, always a commitment-phobe)
10: Communicate your needs.
11: Open your heart & love fully. (Still working on this one…)
12: Don’t ever, ever stray from the steps.

Excerpt

“Savannah? Savannah Gamble?” a different, deeper voice said from behind me. Scooping up my coffee, I spun around.

And squeezed my cup so hard the lid popped off. Scalding liquid sloshed over my hand and onto the floor, barely missing my shoes. Hot, hot, hot.

Linc grabbed napkins and started patting my fingers, at which point I became fairly certain he wasn’t, in fact, a mirage or figment of my imagination. I set my coffee cup and bag aside so I could help clean myself up.

Only I got caught up staring into familiar blue eyes instead. Hot.

That was the problem with Lincoln Wells. Between the light brown hair he usually kept on the buzzed too short side and those striking blue eyes, he was the kind of hot that’d scrambled my brain for an entire year in college.

“Sorry,” he said, wadding the napkins into a ball and making a perfect toss into the nearby trash can. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

One corner of his mouth curved up—oh the hours I’d spent daydreaming about that sexy crooked smile—and then he pulled me in for a hug. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

On autopilot—or maybe force of habit—I hugged him back. Like in college, he was all lean muscle, although he’d filled out a bit, broader in the shoulders and chest. My heart skipped a few beats, and I told myself to stop those rising tendrils of attraction right in their tracks. No thinking about how solid or warm he was, or how long it’d been since I’d been this close to a guy in general, much less a good-looking one.

I pulled back and grabbed my coffee and muffin so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach for him again. “Wow, it’s been a long time. Are you in town for a visit or—”

“Ivy didn’t tell you? I moved back. Last weekend, actually.”

Admittedly she and I had been missing each other lately, playing phone tag due to crazy schedules, but news like this? It deserved a meet-up involving alcohol at the very least.

Which is probably why she’s been so persistent in trying to get me to go to Azure. But if he moved back to town last week… Ivy had probably put off telling me, afraid of how I’d react.

Linc ran his gaze down me, and the only reason I straightened, patted my bun, and wished I’d showered and worn something besides yoga pants was because I wanted him to see what he’d missed out on. Not because I wanted to impress him or anything. I didn’t want him to look at me as more than a friendly acquaintance. The cool girl he used to hang with in college.

Who he’d had drunken sex with one night.

BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

TBA

ABOUT CINDI MADSEN

Cindi Madsen is a USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person.

Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes summer lasted all year long.

She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children.

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SPECIALIST BLOG TOUR ~ The Worst Of Me by Lisa J Hobman

Oct 4

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

THE WORST OF ME

BY LISA J HOBMAN

Nick Dacre is the epitome of the classic rock star. Women, booze and luxury are handed to him on a daily basis and life is great.

Until another alcohol fuelled sexual encounter forces him to realise that, in spite of his many achievements, his life and the relationships therein have no real meaning.

Now feeling trapped in a life he is expected to continue leading a terrifying event forces him to re-evaluate his future.

The words of a stunning and feisty, Scottish chambermaid, met whilst on tour in London, return to haunt him.

Are her words the key to the drastic changes he needs to make?

Will he find himself but lose his heart in the process?

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EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT

THE WORST OF ME -COPYRIGHT LISA J HOBMAN
NOT TO BE COPIED OR DISTRIBUTED WITHOUT EXPRESS PERMISSION FROM LISA J HOBMAN

“What the fu-?!” Nick Dacre carefully blinked open his eyes, squinting as bright rays of daylight stung like daggers and his pupils fought to adjust. The 747 that was coming in to land very close by was doing nothing to help his thumping head. He slowly turned to one side and noticed a ridiculous number of bottles strewn around the room—varying types of alcoholic beverages had obviously once filled them but all were now evidently empty. Clenching his eyes shut for a moment he felt disgusted and disgusting simultaneously. His stomach roiled as another turn of his head revealed a naked blonde woman.

He had no idea a) who she was and b) how she ended up, in her current state of undress, in his bed…in his hotel room. He made to sit up and it was only then that the room began to do a three-sixty turn around his head.

“Gah!” He raised his hands to his temples as if it would help to stop the spinning but his attempts were futile and the room’s rotation continued in earnest. The rancid taste of stale alcohol in his mouth made him wonder if he had perhaps been licking dustbin lids in his drunken stupor—or frenching with Jabba The Hutt maybe?

The blonde began to stir.

He froze and held his breath.

The silly thing was he had woken up in this exact state on so many occasions he’d lost count. But for some reason this felt…different. The 747 got closer. Scrunching his pained eyes he turned towards the god-awful noise and realised it was the chambermaid with a vacuum cleaner.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” a familiar sing-song voice called from the adjoining sitting room of the large suite, and its owner rounded the corner. “I let the maid in to sort your mess out. Good God, it stinks in here!” Den, the band’s rather camp, post middle-aged manager walked towards Nick. Unlike the singer Den was far too perky as usual, sunglasses atop his head and looking like he had stepped off the set of the advert for a well-known fizzy drink…a delightful shade of orange with his newly applied spray tan.

“What the hell happened last night, Den? I feel like shit,” Nick whispered, scared to speak any louder in case the comatose blonde gained full consciousness beside him.

“Ooh, shame on you for needing to ask.” Den waved an excited hand. “It was a fantastic night. We rocked the O2 arena—but I’m sure you remember that particular little snippet—and then you all got completely rat-arsed at the after show party.” The fifty-year-old regaled him in his broad Yorkshire accent whilst he eyed up the blonde with derision. “Some of us clearly got lucky too.”

Nick rubbed his eyes. “I…I remember the gig of course…and…I remember the start of the party…but…not much else. Not good.” He shook his head as he scrambled around his brain and fought to regain the memories from the previous night.

The vacuum cleaner fell silent and the mystery blonde sat bolt upright with a sharp cry, making Nick almost jump out of his skin and jerk his head in her direction. Her eyes widened as her horrified stare flitted between the two men. Without speaking she glanced down at her body and squealed before grappling the sheets and covering her bare, obviously enhanced breasts.

Den tilted his head to one side and pouted at the bewildered woman. In his most famous condescending tone he said, “Aww, bit late for that, love, really.” Her cheeks coloured cerise and he responded with a dirty, coarse cackled laugh. Turning his attention back to Nick he began to back away toward the door. “Well, I’ll leave you two love-birds to say your goodbyes. Better get your shit together, Dacre. We set off for Germany in just over an hour. Toodles!” He winked, waggled his fingers and left the suite.

The chambermaid poked her head around the door. “Ahem…Mr…erm…Mr Dacre? Is it okay for me to collect up your empties now? I didn’t want to wake you and your…erm…girlfriend before…but I really need to get on and do the rest of the suites or my boss will be on my case.” The young, make-up free girl stood fiddling with the vacuum cleaner cable. Nick figured she couldn’t have been any older than eighteen and he was a little amused at the fact she was wearing an oversized grey chambermaid’s uniform which hung from her skinny frame like it belonged to someone else. Her straight blonde hair was scraped back in a ponytail. So young and innocent. Nick frowned at the errant thought invading his mind and tried to push away the additional thought that she was much too young to witness the remnants of such debauchery.

In spite of his best efforts to ignore the unfamiliar niggling guilt knotting his stomach, the heat of shame rose in Nick’s cheeks.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. My…girlfriend is just leaving.” He cringed as he turned his attention from the chambermaid to the blonde stranger in his bed.

Trailer

https://animoto.com/play/Glr2bkEtf6TU8LbVdJZjQQ

Purchase Links

Amazon UK
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About The Author

I’m a happily married mum with two crazy dogs and a thing for men with tattoos! In May 2012 I relocated from Yorkshire to my favourite place in the world, Scotland. The time since then has been a rollercoaster!

I love writing, singing and I’m very passionate about music. My tastes are quite eclectic.

My debut novel Bridge Over the Atlantic was shortlisted in the 2014 RoNA awards and I have written many more since!

You Can Stalk Lisa Here:

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Checkmate: This Is War by Kennedy Fox

Oct 3

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Title: Checkmate: This Is War

Series: Checkmate Duet #1

Author: Kennedy Fox

Genre: Enemies to Lovers Romance

Release Date: October 3

Travis King is the worst kind of asshole.

He taunts me for being a good girl and mocks my high standards.

He’s cruel, crass, and has enough confidence to last two lifetimes.

And I hate him.

It wouldn’t matter so much if he were avoidable.

But considering he’s my older brother’s best friend and roommate, I see him more than I’d ever want to.

His sculpted abs and gorgeous eyes are wasted on such an arrogant man, which makes me hate him even more.

Even though I’ve had a crush on him since I was ten, the feelings weren’t mutual and he’s made that very clear.

He’s always loved getting under my skin and one night against my better judgment, I let him in my bed.

I’ve succumbed to his manwhore ways, but that doesn’t change a thing.

Because the King is about to get played at his own game—and lose.

Checkmate.

Excerpt

Travis

Once I’m home, I start unbuttoning my shirt and ripping my belt off. I can’t stand being in these clothes any longer than necessary. I don’t see or hear Viola anywhere, although her car is parked in the driveway, so I pull my shirt off and pull my pants down before tossing them on the arm of the couch.

I walk to the kitchen and pull open the fridge to look for a beer. Once I find one, I twist off the cap and slam the door shut again. Just as I take a swig, a girl walks in, who is not Viola and stops frozen in her tracks.

“Who are you?” I ask, fully aware I’m down to my boxers. Her eyes glass over before finally blinking and looking back up to my eyes. “Did you hear me?”

She swallows. “Yes, sorry. You just scared the shit out of me. Viola said her brother wasn’t home.”

“I’m not her brother.” I take another swig, roaming my eyes down her petite little body. “I’m the roommate, Travis.” I say, taking a step toward her. “You must be a friend of Viola’s?”

Before she can answer, I hear Viola stomping toward us. “Don’t touch him, Ash. You’ll catch an STD.”

Her eyes widen, and I’m pretty sure I see her friend take a tiny step back.

“I’m surprised you even know what an STD is, considering you’re a virgin and all.” I flash a wink at her when her friend isn’t looking.

She huffs. “I’m not a vir—gah, never mind. Fuck off, Travis. And put some damn clothes on.”

“I don’t think your friend minds.” I turn and smile at her. “Do you?”

“Uh…I…” she stammers, and a part of me feels bad I’ve put her in the middle.

“Didn’t think so.” I grin, walking past her toward Viola. “Looks like you’re in the minority, princess.”

I sit on the couch and click on the TV. I hear Viola speaking to her friend as they finish bringing in all of her shit. I glance back and see bags lining the floor.

“You realize you’re only staying here for a couple weeks, right?” I shout. “No need to nerd up the place with all your Harry Potter books and capes. Wouldn’t impress my guests.”

“You’re an idiot,” she snaps. “And since when did you consider your one-night stands ‘guests’?”

I turn fully, facing her. Her cheeks are flushed, and I know it’s killing her that she has to be here alone with me. “You want to see how well I treat my guests?” I flash a crooked smile, knowing it’ll rile her right up.

“I wouldn’t let my worst enemy near you,” she fires back, narrowing her eyes at me. Fuck, she’s hot when she gets super pissed. All the more to push her buttons.

I tsk. “If you could keep them away that is…”

I turn back around just as she tells her friend it’s time to go. She whispers a few curse words, and I know this is going to be a lot more fun than I expected.

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Kennedy Fox is a duo of bestselling authors who share a love of You’ve Got Mail and The Holiday. When they aren’t bonding over romantic comedies, they like to brainstorm new book ideas. One day, they decided to collaborate together under a pseudonym and have some fun creating new characters that’ll make your lady bits tingle and your heart melt. If you enjoy romance stories with sexy, tattooed alpha males and smart, independent women, then a Kennedy Fox book is for you! Both authors are from Manhattan living the glamorous bachelorette life, or perhaps they’re just confusing themselves with an episode of Sex and the City (Total #Girlcrush SJP). Either way, they’re looking forward to bringing you many more stories to fall in love with!

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by Cindi Madsen