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BLOG TOUR – Wet and Reckless (Private Pleasures #4) by Samanthe Beck

WET AND RECKLESS

Private Pleasures, #4

by Samanthe Beck

Publication Date: May 10, 2021

Trope: Enemies to Lovers

Genres: Adult, Entangled: Brazen, Contemporary, Military, Romance

When former Navy SEAL West Donovan trades high-stakes missions for the calm of the police department in sleepy Bluelick, Kentucky, he craves peace, quiet, and order. Catching sexy, law-bending Hitchiker Barbie by the roadside in the middle of a rainstorm—literally, she passes out in his arms—raises his chaos quotient into the red zone and leaves him determined to quantify this particular tumbleweed of trouble and send her rolling along her merry way ASAP.

Aspiring singer/songwriter Roxy Goodhart ventures to Bluelick to outrun her latest mistake. It’s a doozy involving a lying ex-manager, a dire lack of funds, and a teensy bit of grand larceny. Landing in the long, strong arms of the local law—a/k/a Officer Donovan—is no way to keep a low profile while she re-builds her ‘L.A. or bust’ fund. Accepting a temporary job that turns out to put her in West’s path every dang day also doesn’t help. Worst of all, the longer she sticks around, the more she wants to stay in West’s arms…forever.


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EXCERPT

“You’re good.” Now he turned, and she found herself the recipient of his undivided attention. “Really good.”

Oh damn. A compliment, from him, directed right to her softest, most vulnerable underbelly. “You think?”

 “Yeah. Your voice is very”—he faced front, rubbed the back of his neck, and sent a sheepish smile to the night—“evocative. The two-tone hair? The NASCAR flag girl wardrobe? They’re just distractions, Roxy. You don’t need them. You’re never going to be run-of-the-mill. Not with your talent.”

West wouldn’t stroke her ego. He had nothing to gain from praising her, which might explain why his words put hazardous cracks in the defenses she’d scrambled to build where he was concerned. Singers, musicians, even songwriters, were a dime a dozen. Did she have anything unique to offer? Was she special? Did she possess the kind of innate gifts—not to mention the smarts—required to live up to the hopes and dreams her parents had held for her? The last few years had sown some serious doubts. Particularly in the smarts department.

Asking the questions out loud handed him way too much power, like paving him a shortcut to her weakest points. She defaulted to what would either push him away or lure him in under terms she could handle. At least, she hoped she could.

She undid her seat belt and leaned close enough to rest her breasts against his arm. He tensed, and the leashed strength in the reaction sent her pulse racing. “My voice isn’t the only talent I could bring to your bedroom.”

His breath stalled and then shuddered out slowly, as if the air around them weighed more than normal. She pushed herself up on one knee and ran her tongue along his locked jaw. A night at Rawley’s left traces on a man—hints of smoke and cocktail waitress layered over the straightforward scent of bar soap she found stupidly enthralling. The combination stirred her senses and sent a flood of salt to the back of her mouth.

The groan that vibrated through his chest was all the encouragement she needed. Lightheaded and ravenous for more, she climbed over the console, straddled his hips, and dropped onto his lap. A thick ridge prodded the V of her thighs, melting her from the inside. This time the groan came from her. “Or here,” she panted, going full steam ahead on a fuel of lust and bravado. “I could show you all my talents right here.”

His hands were everywhere, spanning her waist, squeezing her thighs, and then gripping her hips to drag her closer, grinding her softest parts against parts of him so astoundingly hard the contact alone wrung a moan of appreciation from her. The urgency in his response sent heat flooding between her legs, and she wondered if he felt her go damp through the layers of their clothes.

 Big hands sank into the gap at the back of her shorts and palmed her bare skin.

“Christ, I knew it. Traipsing around tonight in shorts one tug away from dropping around your ankles and not a stitch on underneath. Every time you moved all I could concentrate on was this. Squeezing it. Eating it. Owning it.”



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AUTHOR BIO

USA Today bestselling author Samanthe Beck lives in Kona, Hawaii, with her extremely patient husband, their turbo-son, and a furry ninja named Gander. When not writing fun, sexy, contemporary romance, she’s pursuing her goals of…um… training for the Ironman Triathlon, learning to speak Japanese, soaking up the sun and adding to her drink umbrella collection! Connect with Sam via her website at http://www.samanthebeck.com to check her progress on those goals, or to get the latest on her upcoming books!

Website | Newsletter | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Bookbub | Goodreads | Amazon Author Profile | Entangled Publishing


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BLOG TOUR – Promise Me by Samanthe Beck & Robin Bielman

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He’ll promise her a summer she won’t forget…

Promise Me, an all-new steamy New Adult romance with heart from USA Today bestselling authors Samanthe Beck and Robin Bielman is available now!

PromiseMe-1600x2400

Instead of soaking up the SoCal sunshine while housesitting for my aunt, I’m dealing with a Pomeranian who thinks she’s a Pitbull, two half-sisters who would happily prune me off the family tree, and him. Vaughn Shaughnessy. Hot model about to go nuclear, dangerously sexy flirt whose perceptive green eyes promise he’s more than just a pretty face. He’s the kind of walking, talking temptation I should avoid, but that’s impossible because he also happens to be my extremely lickable—I mean likeable—neighbor.

He’s turning me into a hot mess.

Thing is, I can’t handle more messes in my life. I’m still trying to come to terms with the monumental ones in my past, and getting involved with Vaughn—even for temporary summer fun—is guaranteed to get messy. I don’t dare risk it, but I’m not sure I can resist…


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Excerpt:

I follow Snowflake’s lead up the street, the moon smiling down on us. Compared to my apartment in New York City, it’s downright tranquil here. Earlier, music blasted from the house next door, f-bombs dropping repeatedly in many of the songs. My aunt briefly mentioned her next door neighbor, “Vaughn.” She texted to say that if I needed anything, he could help, and included his phone number. From the music selection, I’m guessing he’s closer to my age than hers.

The noise level has since subsided, but lights shine brightly. Shadowy movement passes beyond the windows. There are definitely people inside. Music suddenly shatters the quiet, the latest Maroon 5 song blaring through the wide open front door. Inexplicably, Snowflake chooses that moment to bark like someone yelled “dog party!” and run toward the neighbor’s driveway. I tug on her leash because I’m not one to trespass, but she’s crazy for something and isn’t about to back off. Then I realize someone’s walking down the dark driveway. Someone tall, broad-shouldered, and ambling with a loose-limbed grace that suggests he thinks he has the driveway to himself. Whoever he is, Snowflake can’t wait to greet him.

I’m about to call out hello when an engine revs. Red taillights blaze from the top of the driveway, and a vehicle jerks like the driver forgot to release the brake.

Oh crap.

The guy stops and turns in slow motion as an SUV rolls down the drive. I’m close enough now to hear his, “Oh fuck no,” as the car lurches.

He sprints to the center of the driveway and faces the car like he’s the Hulk and can stop two tons of metal momentum with his bare hands. What is he thinking?

“Stay,” I command Snowflake, and run up the driveway. “Hey!” shout.

The guy turns around and oh my God, the car suddenly picks up speed and heads straight for him. “Look out!”

He doesn’t listen, his eyes locked on mine instead. In a burst of super-human strength I didn’t know I had, I tackle him and fling us to the side of the concrete before he’s roadkill.

“What the—” he mumbles then oomphs as we hit the ground. Lucky for me, I’m sprawled on top of him, a slight sting in my shoulder from our initial landing.

Icy fear grips me as I look down the drive, praying Snowflake has stayed put. She has, but being the badass that she is, she’s barking for the driver to get out of the vehicle and keep all hands where she can see them. Thankfully, the SUV has stopped, its back end in the thick green bushes flanking the entrance to the driveway.

A tall blond woman in a short blue dress stumbles out of the car, laughing her head off like she didn’t almost crash into a human being. “Jesus, Vaughn, your ride is as fucked up as you are.” More laughter comes from a second woman climbing out of the passenger seat. Snowflake growls.

Beneath me a low voice mutters, “It is now.”

I turn back to my aunt’s neighbor. A small corner of my mind registers the sound of high heels clicking up the drive and Snowflake’s bossy bark telling those girls where to go and how to get there, but the rest of me is totally focused on the man beneath me. Slammed against his warm, hard body I feel small, his broad shoulders and chest cushioning my fall. My gaze slides to defined biceps straining against his short sleeves. His masculine scent is clean, with a hint of something spicy. Whatever it is, it puts sexy ideas in my head. I let out a deep breath, grateful he’s still in one piece. My heart stops trying to punch its way out of my chest.

Then I raise my eyes to his face, and holy crap. He’s beautiful. The face of a model beautiful. Wait. I think he is a model. Like of the gigantic Times Square billboard variety. His light brown hair is a little longer now, but there’s no mistaking that square jaw and those dark, olive green, come-closer-if-you-dare eyes.

A slow grin takes over his very nice mouth, making my cheeks warm.

He blinks like I’ve all of a sudden gone out of focus. “Thanks for saving my life, angel,”


About the Authors

Samanthe Beck

Wine lover, sleep fanatic, and USA Today Bestselling Author of sexy contemporary romance novels, Samanthe Beck lives in Malibu, California, with her long-suffering but extremely adorable husband and their turbo-son, Hud. Throw in a furry ninja named Kitty and Bebe the trash talking Chihuahua and you get the whole, chaotic picture.

When not clinging to sanity by her fingernails or dreaming up fun, fan-your-cheeks sexy ways to get her characters to happily-ever-afters, she searches for the perfect cabernet to pair with Ambien.

SamantheBeck

Connect with Samanthe

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2EZN7BZ

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2F0nf8Y

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2JhKoYP

BookBub: http://bit.ly/2J1ppsZ

GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2J6zODF

Stay up to date with Samanthe by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2EZNah9

http://www.samanthebeck.com

Robin Bielman

Robin Bielman is the USA Today bestselling author of over fifteen novels. When not attached to her laptop, she loves to read, go to the beach, frequent coffee shops, and spend time with her husband and two sons.

Her fondness for swoon-worthy heroes who flirt and stumble upon the girl they can’t live without jumpstarts most of her story ideas. She writes with a steady stream of caffeine nearby and the best dog on the planet, Harry, by her side. She also dreams of traveling to faraway places and loves to connect with readers. She dreams of traveling to faraway places and loves to connect with readers. Keep in touch at all of her social media spots!

RobinBielman

Connect with Robin

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2HoeJSN

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2CggPAS

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2NUXRnI

BookBub: http://bit.ly/2XPxMez

GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2HmiJ6i

Stay up to date with Robin by joining her mailing list:

https://robinbielman.com


BLOG TOUR ~ Dirty Games by Samanthe Beck

About the Book:


For six weeks, she’s all his….

A five figure fee. A private villa at an exclusive tropical paradise. Absolute compliance. Top tier celebrity trainer Luke McLean demands all of the above, plus strict adherence to his zero bullshit policy. Especially when faced with six short weeks to whip a spoiled starlet into leading lady shape.

Quinn Sheridan suddenly has half the time she anticipated to turn herself into an action hero for the role of her career. Luckily, her agent calls in a secret weapon, but the demanding, drop dead gorgeous hardass fails to understand SHE’S the client. She has no problem taking direction, but Luke’s definition of cooperation feels more like complete and utter submission. And she’s tempted to give it to him…

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 Giveaway:

  • Tory Burch Escape to Paradise Bay Prize Package filled with the following:
    • Tory Burch Pom Pom Beach Bag
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US shipping ONLY!

Meet the Author:

Wine lover, sleep fanatic, and USA Today Bestselling Author of sexy contemporary romance novels, Samanthe Beck lives in Malibu, California, with her long-suffering but extremely adorable husband and their elementary-aged turbo-son. Throw in a furry ninja named Kitty and Bebe the trash talking Chihuahua and you get the whole, chaotic picture.

When not clinging to sanity by her fingernails or dreaming up fun, fan-your-cheeks sexy ways to get her characters to happily-ever-afters, she searches for the perfect cabernet to pair with Ambien.

 

Connect:

Site | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads




 

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