Wrong Bed, Right Roommate
Rebecca Brooks
Published by: Entangled: Brazen
Publication date: January 14th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

It’s not every day you wake up to a stranger getting into your bed.

Only, he isn’t a stranger at all, he’s my best friend’s hot older brother…and apparently my new roommate.

Having him in my space, driving me crazy, isn’t a problem at all. Nope.

All I need to do is keep control of the situation…

But that’s easier said than done.

Shawn Lassiter is the kind of distraction I don’t need.

First he accidentally gets into my bed, half-naked, the night before my first day at my new job.

Hello, muscles and tattoos!

Then he’s there, in nothing but a towel, making me coffee in the morning.

It’s more than any girl can resist. Right?

But Shawn is off-limits, even if his eyes are saying differently.

Years ago, back when I still had my crush, he destroyed friendships with his reckless playboy antics.

There’s no way I’m touching those perfectly formed abs now. I don’t care how nice and responsible he’s acting.

I don’t want a boyfriend anyway. That’s what my trusty vibrator is for.

I’m the smart girl—the glasses-wearing, book-reading workaholic. I can totally do this.

After all, it’s only for two and a half months.

I’ll be on my best behavior…even if Shawn isn’t.

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Sunny Shelly’s Review: 4 Stars

Wrong Bed, Right Roommate is a cute, low-angst best friend’s brother/roommate romance. Jessie has always had a crush on her best friend’s brother, Shawn — but back in high school, he was a major playboy, a major screwup, and straight-laced Jessie was the last girl he’d ever look at twice. On top of that, his rep more or less ruined most of his sister’s friendships aside from Jessie, so she remained fiercely loyal to her bestie.

Until she wakes up one morning, ten years or so later, to find an all-grown-up Shawn in her bed!

Of course, it’s a mistake: he’s crashing in his sister’s room while she’s out of town, and mistakes Jessie’s room for Talia’s. While the two are able to laugh it off at first, there is a wonderful simmering tension between them… and it doesn’t take long for them to explore their attraction.

Jessie and Shawn spend the summer doing couple-y things, but never have The Talk about what is going on between them. So when Talia unexpectedly comes home (the day of their most romantic and honest date yet!), things kind of explode. And not in a good way.

I really liked the connection between the characters. It was spicy and sweet, and I understood both good girl Jessie as well as Shawn’s struggles in proving he’s not a screw-up and wanting to get his ish together. I just wish they’d been honest with their feelings for one another. But I know, if they had, there wouldn’t have been The Conflict, The Breakup or The Makeup.
This was the first book I’ve read by Rebecca Brooks, and I was pleasantly surprised! I’d love to see Talia find a guy next! I received an advanced copy and voluntarily left a review.

Sunny Shelly’s Review: 5 Stars

Author Bio:

Rebecca Brooks lives in New York City in an apartment filled with books. She received a PhD in English but decided it was more fun to write books than write about them. She has backpacked alone through India and Brazil, traveled by cargo boat down the Amazon River, climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, explored ice caves in Peru, trekked to the source of the Ganges, and sunbathed in Burma, but she always likes coming home to a cold beer and her hot husband in the Bronx. Her books are about independent women who leave their old lives behind to try something new–and find the passion, excitement and purpose they didn’t know they’d been missing. Learn more at http://rebeccabrooksromance.com. To sign-up for her newsletter, sign-up at http://rebeccabrooksromance.com/newsletter.

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“We’ve got to go over something first,” he said, smirking at my efforts to budge his arm.
​“What?” I asked, annoyed.
​“We’re going to be a couple in the public’s eyes. Which means we’re going to have to do certain things that couples do.”
​I blinked at him. “Couples don’t do that in public. At least not the normal ones.”
​He gave a grunt of disbelief. “I’m not talking about sex.”
​“Then what are you talking about?” My voice was rising the more flustered I became. The lack of apparel, the warm water, the way Chase’s brown eyes seemed to melt when he looked at me a certain way . . . I was struggling to keep my composure.
​“Kissing.” He shrugged as though it were obvious. “We’ve had ten years to get rusty. We don’t want to look like a couple of fumbling amateurs when we kiss in public for the first time.”
​My mouth fell open a little as I tried to determine if he was serious. “Kissing is like riding a bike. We don’t need to practice to get it right.”
The corners of Chase’s eyes creased. “It’s more like riding a unicycle. Once you figure it out, with enough consistency, no problem. But if you go a decade without climbing on that unicycle, you’re starting right back at square one.”
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “You’re comparing kissing to a unicycle. You’re just as romantic as I remember.”
Chase treaded closer until my legs were brushing against his with each kick. “Come on. One kiss. Practice makes perfect.” His arms drew in, entombing me in his presence. One brow carved into his forehead. “That is, unless you’re scared to kiss me in private, half-naked in a swimming pool, because you still harbor some kind of feelings for me . . .”
I shoved his chest as a snap reaction, realizing too late that I should not touch him when he was this close, when I was this conflicted. “Fame has really gone to your head.”
His shoulders rose above the water before dipping below again. “So? Prove me wrong.”
“Fine.” The word materialized on its own. “But if you even try slipping me tongue, my knee is winding up in your groin.”
He wet his lips, fighting a smile. “When have I ever complained about any part of you nestling down there?”
My hands balled at my sides as I attempted to approach this whole thing like a science experiment. Objectively. Neutrally. Emotionlessly. “Just kiss me and get it over with.”
His smile quirked. “Once you’re finished whispering sweet nothings into my ear.”
When I tried to push him away, his hands circled my wrists. Chase’s eyes found mine, the color of his irises nearly indistinguishable from his pupils. My chest moved quickly when he swam closer, his head angling as his lips aligned with mine.
He hadn’t even kissed me and I’d lost all sense of direction. Up was as good as down in my present state. His breath fanned across my lips as he waited, perfectly at ease having me trapped in the corner of his pool, our mouths a sliver of air apart.
His grip on my wrists relaxed right before his mouth finally connected with mine. My body froze the instant he kissed me, but it didn’t last long, seeming to melt one piece at a time.
I didn’t realize I was sinking until Chase’s arm cinched around me, pulling my shoulders back above the water, his mouth not missing a beat. The last piece of me to unthaw was my lips, but the moment they did, they matched his urgency. My arms wound behind his neck as I drew closer, our bodies tangling beneath the water as he kissed me in a way I hadn’t been kissed in years; in the kind of way that made a girl feel delicate and invincible at the same time.
Chase treaded water, holding us both above the surface, the planes of his chest rising to meet mine with our uneven breaths. Before I knew it, our tongues were tying together, though it wasn’t him who’d broken that rule first. His chest rumbled against mine as my mouth and hands grew more feverish, no longer under the constraint of my better judgment.
​Kissing Chase was exactly as I remembered, yet totally different. The scrape of his calloused fingers against my skin felt the same, yet there was a newfound strength to it. His full lips moved with mine in a dance we’d mastered years ago, but there was a resolve I’d never tasted so deeply before. The way he held me was exactly the same, though the contours of his body had changed.
​When my chest was hammering from breathlessness, Chase broke the kiss, managing to evade my ensuing advances. His eyes remained closed for a minute, droplets of water winding down his face from where my hands had been.
​When his eyes finally opened, the look in them made my head dizzy, even as I reminded myself this had been a practice kiss. Nothing more.
“How was that?” he asked.
I had to look away in order to make my answer seem convincing. My shoulder lifted out of the water as I shaped my most detached expression. “You were right. Like riding a unicycle.”
“No, you were right.” Chase’s hand drifted up my back, his rough fingertips somehow soft against my skin. “Kissing you is like riding a bicycle.”

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

Today we have the blog tour of RECKLESS by Ciana Stone! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today!

Title: RECKLESS

Author: Ciana Stone

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About RECKLESS:

Morgan Windwalker Alexander considered herself to be a most fortunate woman. She loves the ranch where she and her husband, Cord, live and raised their family. She loves her work as a large animal vet and is proud of what Cord has accomplished in his career in Mechatronics.

She couldn’t and wouldn’t ask for more. As far as she is concerned, at 42, she has it all.

Then Cord gets a call in the middle of the night and from that moment, things start to change. Her once perfect husband, a man who is methodical in all he does, displays a recklessness she finds troubling. Cracks start to appear in her perfect life, revealing lies and betrayals she didn’t want to believe were possible.

Can she keep the cracks from multiplying, keep all the pieces intact, or is she fighting a losing battle? Can she patch the wounds in her life or will this reckless path Cord is on shatter their one perfect life completely?

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EXCERPT: CHAPTER ONE

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Morgan asked as Cord drove the car into the garage.
“I still can’t believe I let you drag me to a high school football game after the fifty-hour week I had.”
“Poor baby,” she reached over to give his leg a squeeze. “I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow.”
“If only. My schedule is slammed for the next three days. Friday can’t come soon enough.” Cord climbed out of the car and waited for her to walk around the back of it before hitting the switch to lower the garage door.
“But you know you had fun and we haven’t been to a game since Trevor graduated. And having a couple of beers with JD and Jolene afterward was fun. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her in nearly a month. Did you know she just got back from Brazil, doing a piece on a bull rider there?”
“No, I didn’t. I guess that’s what you guys were yakking about?” He opened the door leading into the laundry room and waited for her to enter. “Do you wish he’d taken one of the scholarships he was offered?”
“Do you?” She looked over her shoulder at him as she toed off a boot.
“Sometimes. He was one hell of a running back.” Cord sat on the shoe bench to remove his boots.
“And he’ll be a hell of whatever he decides to be next.” Morgan, now bootless, knelt and pulled off Cord’s remaining boot.
“Yeah, I know. I just think talking with JD about his boys and hearing how they’re getting pro offers— you know, it makes me wonder if the same could have happened for Trevor.”
“Who knows? The point is, Trevor’s more into roping and riding than tackling and running the football. And he’s got what it takes to make a run on the circuit if he decides that’s what he wants.”
“Do you think he will?”
“I don’t know. What I do know–” She stood and unzipped her jeans. “Is that I’m not at all sleepy so I may need some help getting relaxed.”
“Help, huh?” He stood and helped her slide her jeans down. “I might have an idea or two on that.”
“Yeah?” She stepped out of her jeans and left them where they lay on the floor as she took his hand. “Then come with me.”
Cord smiled and instead of taking her hand, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
After a very enjoyable hour, she had just about reached that magic moment. She wrapped her legs around Cord’s lean, muscled back to deepen the joining of their bodies, broke free of a kiss to press her head back against the pillow and pressed up against him. The sensations intensified, promising an imminent fall into that well of pleasure where nothing else mattered.
“Do it, do it, do it.” Her voice was an incantation timed to the drum of her heels against his back.
The sudden ring of his phone on the nightstand had thoughts of pleasure vanishing. Concerns for her children made her heart race. No one called after midnight with good news.
“See who it is.”
Cord cursed and rolled over to snatch up the phone. “Hello?” He turned to look at her and mouthed, “McGuire.”
The relief she felt at the non-emergent nature of the call was short lived. Irritation jumped right in to fill the void. There was no good reason that McGuire should call in the middle of the night with a work-related matter. Whatever it was could damn well wait until morning.
Her irritation with McGuire was iced with a healthy dose of annoyance at Cord for taking the call, Morgan sat up, swung her feet over the side of the bed and shot Cord an irritated look before she stalked out of the room.
Cord understood, but he didn’t feel he had much choice. Tom McGuire headed the NNSA, the National Nuclear Security Administration, a subdivision of the Department of Energy. The NNSA was Cord’s biggest source of income, so when they called, he answered.
“We need you here – now.” There was more than a hint of panic in Tom’s voice. “We have a problem, and I can’t go into it over the phone. Pack a bag. I don’t know how long you’ll be here. I’ll have a plane waiting at the Cray County Executive airport, and my driver will be waiting to pick you up when you land.”
As Cord opened his mouth to ask what the problem was, Tom hung up. Despite the annoyance, he rose and went to the closet, pulled a carry-on bag from the top shelf and placed it on the bed. As he unzipped the bag and started selecting clothes to pack, he wondered about the call.
“What did McGuire want?”
He paused in the act of pushing clothes around on the rod in the closet to look at Morgan who’d returned and flopped down on the bed. “I don’t know. Where are my gray pants? You know the ones I mean – the ones I like. They’re not here.”
Morgan got up, walked into the closet and pulled the elusive slacks from the rod. Cord had his back to her as he dressed, and she watched in silence. When he bent over to step into his boxer briefs, the glow from the recessed lights played over the muscles of his back. Despite the number of years they’d been together, she still appreciated his strong, lean body.
Cord straightened and turned toward her with a tentative smile. She handed him the slacks and turned her attention to packing his suitcase.
“Thanks.” He took the slacks and stepped into them. “I wish I knew what made McGuire go ballistic.”
“What doesn’t make him go ballistic? You know he’s not comfortable with the technology, and since he doesn’t understand it, any fluctuation gives him a case of the trots.”
Cord chuckled. “You have a point.” He bent down to peer underneath the bed. “But it has to be serious for him to call me at almost one in the morning. Damn, where are my black shoes?”
“In your office. Right where you left them with the rest of your clothes this afternoon. I never thought about picking them up. I was – busy.”
Cord pulled a black t-shirt over his head and gave her a sexy grin as he shoved one arm in the shirt. “Yeah, busy driving me crazy.”
She smiled and finished putting the last article of clothing into the suitcase. “You want to grab your stuff from the bathroom, or should I?”
“Would you do that while I get my shoes and stuff I need from the office?”
“Sure.”
Cord hurried to his office, found his shoes and put them on. He’d need his tablet, phone, chargers and what else? That should do it. He shoved everything into a small messenger bag and headed for the door.
Morgan met him in the kitchen. He put his messenger bag on the counter and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you. Hurry home.”
“I love you.” He squeezed her tightly. “I’ll call when I get there. Go back to bed and get some sleep. No sense in both of us being zombies.”
Morgan wrestled with the sudden temptation to ask him not to go or to take her with him. She realized the importance of his work, but something about this trip made her feel unsettled. It made no sense, but the feeling was strong. If she thought there was any chance of succeeding, she’d try and talk him out of going, but she knew she’d fail.
If she asked, he’d probably take her with him, but that would be an added burden he didn’t need, so she dismissed the urge, tamped down on her anxiety and gave him a smile.
“I’ll be fine. I need to check on Little Shoes. This is her first, and she’s gonna pop any moment. Someone needs to be there with her.”
“I shouldn’t leave that on you. What else do you have going on today?”
“Three appointments this morning. Bob Davis wants me to check that breeding bull he just bought, and I have three horses to see. Then I need to check inventory and see what we need from the feed store, and the cattle in the south pasture need to be moved and –“
“I really shouldn’t leave all that on you.”
Morgan didn’t want him to feel guilty about having to leave, but if he chose not to go, she’d be relieved. “I’m sure we’ll manage. Since you’re gonna be gone, I may go see Joe and Myrtle.”
“Joe, of course.”
“Of course?”
“You know what I mean. You’re a strange bird. How many women your age do you know who have a best friend that’s old enough to be their grandfather?”
“Aren’t we way past that? Joe and Myrtle are like family to me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Okay, I’m outta here. I’ll call and let you know what’s going on and where I’m staying. Oh, crud. I forgot. I was supposed to have the car serviced tomorrow. Any chance you could get Slats to ride with you to the airport later to get it and take it in?”
“Oh sure, I have nothing on my schedule.” She realized the testy tone of her voice and back-pedaled. “Sorry. I’ll take care of it. Now go.”
Cord gave her a kiss, grabbed his things and headed out through the laundry room door that led to the garage. She watched from the door as he got into his car and backed out. He rolled down the window. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Morgan watched the car lights wind their way down the driveway and vanish under the umbrella of foliage. She was about to turn away from the door when her dog, Ghost, walked into the garage.
“Hey, big guy, you wanna come in while I get ready?”
The dog cocked his head to one side then padded through the garage and into the house. Morgan locked the door and went into the kitchen to start coffee then headed for the bedroom to dress with Ghost padding along silently behind her.

En Route to Washington, D.C.

Cord shifted into a more comfortable position and looked out of the plane window. The call from McGuire had left an anxious knot in the pit of his stomach. He hated not knowing what kind of problem was waiting for him. For half an hour he speculated and worried, and all that gained him was a nagging headache. He had to get his mind off it.
He smiled as Morgan’s face flashed in his mind and he turned to thoughts of her and how they’d met.
He’d just earned his bachelor’s degree and had two weeks before starting graduate school. He’d elected to start in the summer semester as he was eager to get on with his education and life. Cord started as an engineering major and ended up with a double major because he fell in love with software design.
Code was like magic, you could program machines to perform fantastic feats and to go to places humans couldn’t reach or couldn’t survive.
While on break, he drove a friend to a local stable where his friend’s girlfriend planned to be. Cord always felt sorry for the horses there, as they were rarely well tended. Having grown up on a ranch, he could recognize a sick or ailing horse with a glance.
His friend, Ralph, was a city boy and wouldn’t know a nag from a thoroughbred. All he knew was that his current girlfriend, Tara Johnson, was studying to be a vet and doing an internship with one of the local large-animal vets this summer. Today she was going to be at the stable and had asked him to meet her there. She’d made friends with one of the other students, another girl and told Ralph to bring a friend. When Tara finished work, they’d all head over to the rock quarry for some swimming and beer.
Cord was halfway on board but warned Ralph if Tara’s friend looked like the Hunchback of Notre Dame all they would see of him was the dust in his wake.
He parked his vintage Corvette in the shade of an old oak. He and Ralph talked about women, school, and life for half an hour before Tara’s voice drew their attention. “There they are. Hey baby, you ready to roll?”
Ralph jumped out of the car and Cord was vaguely aware of Tara heading toward him. His attention was focused like a laser beam on the girl walking toward them.
She was smoking hot, even in dirty jeans that rode below her navel and a sweat-stained tank top that emphasized her firm breasts and well-defined arms. Her skin was bronzed with the tone of someone with Native ancestry, but her eyes were the color of a clear summer sky, the blue incongruous to the tone of her skin.
“Hi,” Cord greeted her as she stopped in front of the car. “I’m Cord Alexander.”
“Hi.” She offered him her hand. “Morgan Windwalker.”
“So, you’re an intern as well?”
“I am. My last, thank God.”
“You mean you’re done after this?”
“If I pass the state board, yes.”
“And you’ll be a vet?”
“Yes, specializing in large animals.”
“I’m not trying to be a smart ass or insulting, but aren’t you a little young to be graduating?”
She laughed. “I started young.”
“How young?” As hot as she was, Cord was starting to wonder if she was jailbait.
“I entered college at thirteen.”
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“So, you’ve been in college for the last eight years?”
“No, I earned my undergrad and my DVM in less time than normal.”
“Which makes you…?”
“Can’t just come out and ask, huh? I’m eighteen. How about you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“In college or working?”
“Both. I’m working at the University and starting the Master’s program this summer.”
“For?”
“Mechatronics.”
“Nice, but you don’t look much like a geek.”
“Oh? What do I look like?”
“A hot cowboy.”
Cord laughed, delighted at the boost to his ego her words provided. “Well thanks, and you look kind of like a beautiful Indian princess – well except for the eyes.”
Morgan smiled. “So, you wanna play cowboys and Indians?”
“I’d love to, but I don’t have a horse.”
“Looks like you’ve got about four hundred of them.” She gestured toward the car.
“You wanna take a ride?”
“I most definitely do.” Morgan headed around Tara and Ralph who were sitting on the hood of the car watching. “Tara, you can take my truck.” She tossed her friend the keys. “I’ll stop by in the morning to get it.”
“Where’re y’all going?” Tara asked as she slid off the car.
“Wherever the road takes us.” Morgan cut Cord a smile before she got into the car.
He got in behind the wheel, feeling like one lucky man.
Now, more than two decades later, he still felt like the luckiest man alive. Not only did he have an amazing career, but an incredible wife, two great kids, and a beautiful ranch. Life had more than just smiled on him, it had downright grinned.
Not bad for a Texas cowboy who started with nothing.

About the Author:

I’m a country girl at heart and I’m quite keen on home-grown heroes, military men and cowboys. Happily-ever-after is something I believe in with my whole heart. Love may be a bumpy road and there are bound to be perils along the way but in the end, love should win. I try to take that attitude into my writing and believe that love, hope and laughter are some of the best medicine there is. Along with books. Lots of books.

I have a passion for sagas. I love to fall into a world, get to know characters and have them reappear in stories down the road. Because of that, I wrote my Cotton Creek Saga. So far, there are two series within the saga, Honky Tonk Angels and Heartbreakers & Heroes, with another, Heritage, on the way in 2019.

I love to hear from readers and want every since person who has read one of my book to know how much I thank them. To every reader who has spent his or her hard-earned reading dollars on a Ciana Stone book, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Connect with Ciana:

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It took one night with her to know she was my forever.
It took one minute for me to climb out of bed and drive away from her.
It’s taken me three years to confess that leaving her behind was the biggest mistake of my life.I won’t stop until she knows what she means to me. I’ll convince her to listen to her heart.

It took one night for all of my dreams to come true.
It took one morning, waking up alone, for those same dreams to come crashing down around me.
It’s taken me three years to confess that night changed me forever.

He says this time is different, but how do I open my heart up to a man who’s already ripped it to shreds?

 

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Sunny Shelly’s Review: 5 Stars

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Author Bio

Kaylee Ryan is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling
author.  When she’s not spinning tales of happily ever after, she’s
reading or spending time with family.  Born and raised an Ohio girl,
Kaylee resides in Cincinnati with her husband and their son.

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Sunny Shelly’s Review: 5 Stars

Pippa Grant

Sunny Shelly’s Review : 4 Stars

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Faking It never felt so good in this red-hot new standalone by New York Times bestselling author K. Bromberg–available now!

Zane Phillips mistook me for his dog walker. It shouldn’t surprise me that the man with a suit more expensive than my rent would assume that I was there to serve him. The positive? I put him in his place. The negative? I missed my job interview because of it. Now I find out he’s a rich Australian entrepreneur, and he wants to make up for tanking my interview.

Yes, he’s impossibly hot – but he’s also an arrogant jackass – so…no thanks.

But after a little white lie I tell spirals out of control, I’m somehow offered the chance to play Zane’s girlfriend to help promote his new dating website – and the best part? He can’t say no because he’ll get caught in his lie, too.

Little did I know this would entail sharing a tour bus with him for the next few months. The fact that the bus has just one bed isn’t the most ideal of circumstances, but this spokesperson gig might be the kick in the pants my career needs, so why not take a chance?

Famous last words.

Now I’m crisscrossing the country – and sharing that bed – with the one guy I can’t stand. And even worse, my traitorous body is wondering at every turn what it’s like to be down under the gorgeous Australian. But as the miles unfurl, so does our passion…and if I’m not careful, I might end up believing that fairy tales really do come true.

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Sunny Shelly’s Review: 5 Stars

Excerpt:

“I have connections.” Brilliant, Zane. Fucking brilliant. That’s how you get her to not run away from you? By giving her a sleazy line?  “Maybe I could help you find something.”

“I couldn’t care less about your connections.” She hangs her head and when she lifts it, I watch her reign in the pride I feel like a dick for bruising.  “I’m sorry. That was rude. Like I said, thank you.” She holds up the papers and offers a reticent smile.

“Look . . .” I take a step toward her, more than aware that I don’t want her to go just yet and questioning why I’m even bringing this up. “I have an event I’m holding at the end of the week. You should come. I could introduce you to some people. There might be some job opportunities there.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not that kind of girl.” The roll of her eyes has me realizing how she took my comment.

My laugh makes my dog lift her head. “That’s not exactly what I meant, Harlow. I run a matchmaking website, not an escort service.”

“Good to know. So basically that means you cherry pick the women you want to date after you scope out all their information. I assure you now I can sleep better at night knowing this.”

“You’re exhausting.” And she is, but in the most fascinating of ways.

“You’re one to talk.” She crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her eyebrows.

I hold my hands up. “All I was trying to say is connections matter in this town. You and I both know that. My event . . . there is going to be a lot of people there. Industry people,” I say more than aware I just let it slip that I looked her up and know she works in the industry.

“Good. Great. Can you go now?”

But there’s a crack of a smile on her face. A chink in her defensive armor that tells me I’m getting somewhere.

“You have to take opportunities when they present themselves.” She doesn’t say anything but the slight smile remains. “Zane Phillips. Nice to meet you.” I stick my hand out. She looks down at it and nods but doesn’t shake it.

God, she’s stubborn.

And damn gorgeous.

“And you’re Harlow Nicks.”

“Considering you had my electric bill, I guess that means you know how to read.”

“I do.” I nod. “And I also have your email address from your interview paperwork.”

“Should I worry that you’re stalking me?”

I shake my head and sigh. “I’ll email you the information about the party—”

“—don’t bother—”

“—it’s on Friday night. Cocktail attire. Lots of networking.”

“I won’t read it.”

I flash a megawatt smile at her and then turn to walk away. “Yes, you will.”

And she will.

It’s rare that a woman resists me. She’s trying but I’ll win in the end.  It just seems for the time being that I have my work cut out for me.

I’m a man who always has an end goal in mind. Always.

There’s no point in setting a goal if you don’t plan on smashing it.

Question is, what in the hell am I aiming for when it comes to Harlow Nicks?

About K. Bromberg

New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, Kristy has sold over one million copies of her books across sixteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by Passionflix with the first movie slated to release in the summer of 2018.

She is currently working on her Everyday Heroes trilogy. This series consists of three complete standalone novels—Cuffed, Combust, and Cockpit (late spring 2018)—and is about three brothers who are emergency responders, the jobs that call to them, and the women who challenge them.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales: http://bit.ly/254MWtI

Connect with K. Bromberg

Website:  http://www.kbromberg.com

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Amazon Author: http://amzn.to/204Qnfz

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THE KISS THIEF BY L.J. SHEN

Release Date: January 9th

Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser at RBA Designs.

AUDIO: https://amzn.to/2Vwq73z

Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41450662-tk

Blurb
They say your first kiss should be earned.

Mine was stolen by a devil in a masquerade mask under the black Chicago sky.

They say the vows you take on your wedding day are sacred.

Mine were broken before we left church.

They say your heart only beats for one man.

Mine split and bled for two rivals who fought for it until the bitter end.

I was promised to Angelo Bandini, the heir to one of the most powerful families in the Chicago Outfit.

Then taken by Senator Wolfe Keaton, who held my father’s sins over his head to force me into marriage.

They say that all great love stories have a happy ending.

I, Francesca Rossi, found myself erasing and rewriting mine until the very last chapter.

One kiss.

Two men.

Three lives.

Entwined together.

And somewhere between these two men, I had to find my forever.

Excerpt
“Are you sure you’re on my card?” I turned to the man with a polite yet distant smile. I was still disoriented from the exchange with Angelo when the stranger pulled me against his hard body and pressed a possessive hand lower than socially acceptable on my back, a second from groping my butt.

“Answer me,” I hissed.

“My bid on your card was the highest,” he replied dryly.

“The bids are undisclosed. You don’t know how much other people have paid,” I kept my lips pursed to keep myself from yelling.

“I know it’s nowhere near the realm of what this dance is worth.”

Un-freaking-believable.

We began to waltz around the room as other couples were not only spinning and mingling but also stealing envious glances at us. Naked, raw ogles that told me that whomever the blonde he’d come to the masquerade with was, she wasn’t his wife. And that I might have been all the rage in The Outfit, but the rude man was in high demand, too.

I was stiff and cold in his arms, but he didn’t seem to notice—or mind. He knew how to waltz better than most men, but he was technical, and lacked warmth and Angelo’s playfulness.

“Nemesis.” He took me by surprise, his rapacious gaze stripping me bare. “Distributing glee and dealing misery. Seems at odds with the submissive girl who entertained Bishop and his horsey wife at the table.”

I choked on my own saliva. Did he just call the governor’s wife horsey? And me submissive? I looked away, ignoring the addictive scent of his cologne, and the way his marble body felt against mine.

“Nemesis is my spirit animal. She was the one to lure Narcissus to a pool where he saw his own reflection and died of vanity. Pride is a terrible illness.” I flashed him a taunting smirk.

“Some of us could use catching it.” He bared his straight white teeth.

“Arrogance is a disease. Compassion is the cure. Most gods didn’t like Nemesis, but that’s because she had a backbone.”

“Do you?” He arched a dark eyebrow.

“Do I…?” I blinked, the courteous grin on my face crumpling. He was even ruder when we were alone.

“Have a backbone,” he provided. He stared at me so boldly and intimately, it felt like he breathed fire into my soul. I wanted to step out of his touch and jump into a pool full of ice.

“Of course, I do,” I responded, my spine stiffening. “What’s with the manners? Were you raised by wild coyotes?”

“Give me an example,” he said, ignoring my quip. I was beginning to draw away from him, but he jerked me back into his arms. The glitzy ballroom distorted into a backdrop, and even though I was starting to notice that the man behind the demi-mask was unusually beautiful, the ugliness of his behavior was the only thing that stood out.

I am a warrior and a lady…and a sane person who can deal with this horrid man.

“I really like Angelo Bandini.” I dropped my voice, slicing my gaze from his eyes and toward the table where Angelo’s family had been seated. My father was sitting a few seats away, staring at us coldly, surrounded by Made Men who chatted away.

“And see, in my family, we have a tradition dating back ten generations. Prior to her wedding, a Rossi bride is to open a wooden chest—carved and made by a witch who lived in my ancestors’ Italian village—and read three notes written to her by the last Rossi girl to marry. It’s kind of a good luck charm mixed with a talisman and a bit of fortunetelling. I stole the chest tonight and opened one of the notes, all so I could rush fate. It said that tonight I was going to be kissed by the love of my life, and well…” I drew my lower lip into my mouth and sucked it, peering under my eyelashes at Angelo’s empty seat. The man stared at me stoically, as though I was a foreign film he couldn’t understand. “I’m going to kiss him tonight.”

“That’s your backbone?”

“When I have an ambition, I go for it.”

A conceited frown crinkled his mask, as if to say I was a complete and utter moron. I looked him straight in the eye. My father taught me that the best way to deal with men like him was to confront, not run. Because, this man? He’d chase.

Sunny Shelly’s Review: 4 Stars

I am generally not a fan of dark romances or the arranged marriage trope, and I signed up to review The Kiss Thief when it was just a surprise release called TKT and there was no blurb. Without the blurb, I didn’t exactly know what I was getting into, but I knew that L.J. Shen is a master, so I took the chance. So in all honesty, I struggled a bit with the story between Francesca and Wolfe because it wasn’t one of my favorite tropes. I was also expecting it to be a love triangle — and it is, in a sense, but not in the traditional way you would expect.

That said, The Kiss Thief is one helluva ride. It is dark and gritty and dangerous and all kinds of bad. In the very best way. Wolfe has had a hard, hard life, and it has made him a hardened, hardened man. He has a clear agenda (although the reasons WHY he’s seeking revenge are not made clear until almost the end of the book), and entering an arranged marriage with Mob princess Francesca is his means to the end. What Wolfe never expected is that he’d fall head over heels in love with his teenage virgin bride along the way.

Wolfe is not a nice man behind closed doors. His behavior toward Francesca is deplorable at times. I get that he has to be a hothole in order to be the reformed adoring husband by the end of the story, but I just hated him for so much of this book! Francesca comes off as meek and mild, but she is a force to be reckoned with. She really does make the most out of an atrocious situation, and she does it with grace. There is one scene in particular where she really bests Wolfe at the game he’s been playing with her, and while it was one of the hardest scenes in the book to read, it also stood out to me as one of the best. (Once you read it, you will know exactly why!)

My only complaint about The Kiss Thief is that I wanted to see more of Wolfe’s transformation to the adoring husband in love with his life. Yes, the reader sees his walls coming down, but I wanted more from his inner monologue when it came to his feelings for Francesca. Because as much as Wolfe stole Francesca’s first kiss — and then, ultimately, her — she stole his heart as well at that first meeting. And I really would have loved to have seen more about how that happened from Wolfe’s POV rather than being TOLD it was happening.

But overall, The Kiss Thief is a wonderful, addictive, dark romance between Narcissus and Nemesis, and how no matter how hard others tried, there was no one who could clip Francesca’s wings.

I received an advanced copy and voluntarily left a review.

About the Author
L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.

Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets peoples’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.

She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.

Connect with L.J. Shen
Website: http://www.authorljshen.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorljshen/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lj_shen
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorljshen/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorljshen/
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/l-j-shen
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13531492.L_J_Shen
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2KSFkad

Today we have the release day blitz for R.L. Kenderson’s PASSING GRADE! Check it out and order your copy today!

Title: Passing Grade

Author: R.L. Kenderson

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About Passing Grade:

I’ve always been a good girl.

Sure, I speed, I drank before I was 21, I’ve played hooky, and there was the one time I skipped class in high school.

But I’ve never gotten detention, been pulled over, fired, or arrested.

I’m a good girl.

Until I wasn’t.

I’m a bad, bad girl.

I’ve wanted to be a teacher as long as I can remember, and I would never do anything to give that up.

Until I meet Mace Wagner.

The first time I saw him, I thought he was the assistant football coach. He was tall, broad shouldered, and the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

I didn’t know he was my student.

I didn’t know he would screw my brains out.

I didn’t know I would fall in love with him.

I didn’t know I would risk everything to be with him.

Passing Grade deals with a student/teacher relationship. All individuals are over eighteen and consenting adults.

Get Your Copy Today:

Amazon | iBooks | Nook | Google Play | Kobo

Exclusive Excerpt:

The first time I saw Mace Wagner, he was standing on the sidelines next to Coach Fischer at the first football game of the season.

I took a seat behind the team’s bench, several rows up on the bleachers, with my friend Becca.

I had just moved to Texas to teach high school because Becca had gotten me a job alongside her.

Becca and I’d met our freshman year at college in Nebraska. I’d been raised in South Dakota, and she was from Texas. When we graduated, we both went home to where we’d grown up, but we missed each other like crazy.

Back in South Dakota, I didn’t have a boyfriend, most of my high school friends had moved away, and I only found a job as a substitute teacher. And, while I loved my parents, when Becca told me about a job opening at her high school, I jumped at the chance. I was only going to be young once and not tied down with a family. Now was the time in my life to explore different things and a different place.

I had moved into Becca’s rental just shy of a month ago. It was a house, but it was small, and I hoped to move into my own place soon. However, I’d gotten myself temporarily settled, and last week, the teachers had started school. I had met almost all of my new coworkers.

But the guy standing next to Coach Fischer was unfamiliar. He was tall and broad, bigger than Coach Fischer, and I was immediately drawn to him. He had his hands on his hips, and I couldn’t help but notice a line of text tattooed on the outside of each arm. I wanted to know what it said.

I could only see his profile, but he looked to be about my age, twenty-five, and he was very into the game. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted something at the players.

He was wearing very worn jeans and a football jersey that said Wagner on the back. But no pads or helmet.

I was just about to ask Becca who he was, but she was in the middle of a conversation with the woman next to her. And that was when I realized that this had to be the assistant coach. I had heard the name Connor Wagner said a few times in the halls at work, and since the football jersey displayed the same last name, it had to be him.

I had heard the other women at work, except for Becca, talk about how good-looking Coach Wagner was, but I was still practically knocked off my seat when he turned around.

He wasn’t good-looking.

He was gorgeous.

A living, breathing Adonis.

The Urban Dictionary one. The perfect man with a flawless body who made women’s hearts race and gave them butterflies in their stomachs. Not the Greek mythology one, although I’m sure Coach Wagner had women fight over him like Persephone and Aphrodite did over Adonis in the stories.

He had thick, dark brown hair that was a little long so that tendrils of it blew across his forehead. His eyes were a vivid blue that I could see, thanks to the blue in the jersey that made them stand out. He was lean in all the right places and big in others.

I quickly looked away but not before I saw the knowing smirk on his face. I’d been staring. He knew it, and I knew it.

I willed my face not to turn red and for me to pay attention to Becca’s conversation and forget Coach Wagner.

We might be grown professionals now, but I’d known guys like him my whole life. He was attractive. I was not. He knew he was attractive, and men that looked like him never went out with girls that looked like me.

I wouldn’t call myself ugly, but on a scale of one to ten, I was a solid six. Maybe a seven on a good day. But that was my face. My body? Well, that was more down in the four range. I had hips for days and no boobs. I couldn’t be what you would call voluptuous because God had accidentally forgotten to pack the top half of my body. Or maybe he’d put it all in the bottom. I was disproportionate, and it sucked.

But the good thing about being twenty-five and not fifteen was that I didn’t care so much anymore. Back then, I’d dreamed of getting myself breast implants while I starved myself and exercised until I passed out. These days, I still worked out but only to stay healthy. I’d come to terms with my huge hips and little pooch of a belly. If I wanted to eat cake, I was going to, damn it. I also knew there was much more to someone than what they looked like.

Yet, every once in a while, on nights like this, I was reminded that a guy like him wouldn’t date a girl like me. And that was okay. Really. I swear.

But, as a woman who was five feet ten inches, I was a sucker for tall men. When only fourteen and a half percent of men were six feet and over and barely four percent were over six-two, it was hard not to be attracted to someone I literally looked up to. I’d dated guys my height and some even a couple of inches shorter, but towering men were my kryptonite.

Let’s face it; I was attracted to the guy.

And, because of this, I took one more glance at his left ring finger. While I’d heard the other teachers talk, no one had ever mentioned if Coach Wagner was single or taken.

His hand was bare, but when I let my gaze travel up his body, his eyes were on mine. There was a little bit of laughter in them as he shook his head. He scanned me once before he raised an eyebrow and turned back to the game.

Caught again, but this time, I did turn red. Because I knew that look. He’d assessed me and found me lacking.

Story of my life.

What was different about this story was that I wasn’t attracted to the high school’s assistant football coach. I wasn’t attracted to a coworker, a fellow teacher.

I was attracted to one of the high school’s football players, one of my students.

About R.L. Kenderson:

R.L. Kenderson is two best friends writing under one name.

Renae has always loved reading, and in third grade, she wrote her first poem where she learned she might have a knack for this writing thing. Lara remembers sneaking her grandmother’s Harlequin novels when she was probably too young to be reading them, and since then, she knew she wanted to write her own.

When they met in college, they bonded over their love of reading and the TV show Charmed. What really spiced up their friendship was when Lara introduced Renae to romance novels. When they discovered their first vampire romance, they knew there would always be a special place in their hearts for paranormal romance. After being unable to find certain storylines and characteristics they wanted to read about in the hundreds of books they consumed, they decided to write their own.

One lives in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area and the other in the Kansas City area where they’re a sonographer/stay-at-home mom/wife and pharmacist/mother by day, and together they’re a sexy author by night. They communicate through phone, email, and whole lot of messaging.

You can find them at http://www.rlkenderson.com, Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter, and Goodreads. Join their Facebook Reader Group. Or you can email them at rlkenderson@rlkenderson.com, or sign up for their newsletter here. They always love hearing from their readers.

Connect with R.L. Kenderson

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