quinta-feira, 7 de julho de 2016

♡ Review & Excerpt Tour ♡ Hitched: Volume One (Imperfect Love #1) by Kendall Ryan @KendallRyan1 @InkSlingerPR #Live #OneClick #Review




Hitched: Volume One
Imperfect Love #1
by
Kendall Ryan

Release Date: July 5th 2016





✾ Synopsis ✾


Marry the girl I've had a crush on my whole life? Check.
Inherit a hundred-billion-dollar company? Check.
Produce an heir... Wait, what?
I have ninety days to knock up my brand-new fake wife. There's only one problem — she hates my guts.
And in the fine print of the contract? The requirement that we produce an heir.
She can't stand to be in the same room with me. Says she'll never be in my bed.
But I've never backed down from a challenge and I'm not about to start now.
Mark my words — I'll have her begging for me, and it won't take ninety days.

On the heels of her smash hit and New York Times bestselling SCREWED series, Kendall Ryan brings you HITCHED, a romantic comedy that delivers heart and heat. A NYC playboy turned business mogul has ninety days to win over the woman he's always desired in order to save his father's company. One tiny problem: She hates his guts.






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✿ Praise for Hitched


"Charming, swoony and playful, Kendall Ryan's Hitched left me salivating for more. More Noah, more Olivia, more of this series which already has my heart all aflutter, my smile perma-pinned to my face, and my mind aching for answers." - Give Me Books

"Hitched was a perfect non-stop read!" – Jacqueline's Reads

"Childhood friends and now frenemies forced to wed and make a baby in mere months? I'm IN!" - Bookalicious Babes Blog

"Fun, flirty and steamy, Hitched will have you addicted from the first word! Kendall Ryan delivered big time, I'm practically salivating for more!" - Angie, Angie and Jessica's Dreamy Reads






✿ My Review ✿





Noah Tate and Olivia Cane have known each other since they were born. Their fathers were business partners and together founded Tate & Cane. Noah's father died a year ago and Olivia's father is sick and wants both Noah and Olivia as co-CEOs of Tate & Cane. But there's a catch: they must marry each other in order to enherit the company.
Now the question is: will Noah and Olivia tie the knot?

I loved Hitched: Volume One!

The story is very captivating and hooked me from the first page. It made me laugh a lot and the banter between Noah and Olivia is hilarious. I couldn't put my kindle down. I needed to know what Noah and Olivia were going to do. And that cliffhanger... The suspense is killing me!

Noah seems to be the typical playboy. He has the looks, the money, and the brains and he knows how to them in his favor. But he can also be very sweet. He wants to be co-CEO of Tate & Cane with Olivia, not only because he believes it's his birth right but also because of all the people that works there. I loved how he treated Rosa. Swoon!
Olivia is a strong and independent woman. She worked a lot to become co-CEO of Tate & Cane but doesn't know if she can marry Noah. She seems to be a sharp business woman, but deep down she is a romantic.

Kendall Ryan did a splendid job with Hitched: Volume One! Her writing style is flawless and she can make the reader connect with the characters and the story. Believe me, once you start reading, you won't be able to stop!

Now... I really, really, really need Hitched: Volume Two!!!








✿ Teasers ✿













✿ Book Trailer ✿







✿ Coming Soon! ✿




Hitched: Volume Two
Imperfect Love #2
by
Kelly Elliott

Release Date: July 19th 2016











Hitched: Volume Three
Imperfect Love #3
by
Kelly Elliott

Release Date: August 2nd 2016











✿ The Author ✿


Kendall Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance novels, including Hard to Love, Unravel Me, Resisting Her and When I Break.

She's a sassy, yet polite Midwestern girl with a deep love of books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss. She lives in Minneapolis with her adorable husband and two baby sons, and enjoys hiking, being active, and reading.

Visit her website for the latest book news, and fun extras.



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♡ Excerpt Reveal ♡ Ball Peen Hammer by Lauren Rowe @laurenrowebooks @RSofRomance #ComingSoon





Keane looks around the small motel room while I sit in a rickety chair, watching him. He seems nervous, though I can't imagine why. Isn't this what he does for a living?

"There isn't a lot of room to maneuver in here," Keane says, biting the inside of his cheek. "I'm not gonna be able to do most of my usual moves."

"No judgment here," I say. "Just jiggle a little bit and I'm sure I'll be duly impressed."

Keane rolls his eyes. "I don't jiggle, Maddy. I dance."

"Okay, gyrate. Writhe. Shake your booty. Whatever. I'm just saying I'm easy to please."

Keane twists his mouth, still surveying the small space. "I can't do any of my acrobatics or flips in here. This is gonna be pretty lame, actually." He sighs. "And I'll definitely have to use the bed for some stuff. Okay? Otherwise, there's no place to maneuver."

I bite my lip, trying not to smile. "Do whatever you think is best," I say. "I won't know the difference. It's my first lap dance, remember?"

Keane furrows his eyebrows adorably. "Okay. But just so you know I'm usually way more exciting than what you're about to see."

I purse my lips and flare my nostrils, trying to keep a huge smile at bay. Why the heckity-heck does Keane seem so freaking nervous? "Don't worry," I say. "I'll mention the cramped performing space when I write my Yelp review."

"Hang on." Without warning, he leans over me, giving me a whiff of his delicious, soapy scent, grabs ahold of either side of my chair, and rotates me a quarter turn so I'm facing the length of the narrow "alley" between the beds and the dresser. "Okay, that's better," Keane says. "Gives me a little more room to work with." He grabs a shirt from his duffel bag and throws it over the lamp on the nightstand, further dimming the already low lighting in the room. "Can I use your laptop to play some music?"

"Sure." I motion to my computer on the bed and tell him the password.

After calling up something on my computer, Keane places the laptop onto the dresser to my left. "Press play on the song when I cue you," he says.

"Yes, sir."

Keane positions himself a few feet in front of me, his head bowed, his hands clasped in front of his crotch, his legs spread into an athletic stance, but before he can do anything else, I burst into a manic giggle.

Keane looks up. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I just realized I've paid a male stripper for a private lap dance in a motel room." I snicker. "Okay. I'm good now. Proceed." I exhale and shake out my arms.

After a beat, Keane puts his head down again, but then immediately raises his face to look at me again. "Picture colorful lights swirling around the room, okay?"

"Ooooh. Aaaaaaah. Pretty."

Keane levels me with the most hilariously annoyed expression he«s ever flashed at me (which is saying a lot). "Are you gonna be sardonic this entire time, or can you at least try to act like a normal pickle with a dollar bill?"

"Sorry. I will most definitely relax and act like a normal pickle with a dollar bill, starting now."

"Thank you." He takes a deep breath, shakes out his arms, clasps his hands in front of his crotch again, and lowers his head. "Cue music," he says.

I dutifully reach over to my computer and press play on the song Keane's got cued up on YouTube: "Pony" by Ginuwine, of course.

The song begins blaring in the small room. But Keane doesn't move. To the contrary, through the first familiar chords of the iconic song, Keane remains stock-still, apparently letting anticipation build the same way Channing Tatum did when he danced to this song in Magic Mike. And I must say his tactic is working like a charm: I'm transfixed.

But, still, Keane doesn't move, other than to subtly flex the muscles on his forearms.

Finally, after a few bars of the song, Keane begins moving his hips and slowly touching his chest over the fabric of his tight black T-shirt — an understated move that most definitely piques my interest — and when the song reaches Ginuwine's vocals, Keane's magnificent body finally springs to animated life, jerking and gyrating to the beat of the music.

Whoa. Hotness. I had no idea Keane could move like this. He's as fluid as mercury.

"Woohoo!" I scream. "Yeah, baby! Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout!"

Keane smirks at me, as if to say, "You ain't seen nothing yet." He thrusts his pelvis in rapid succession and then glides back a step, his body shuddering.

"Channing's got nothing on you, baby!" I shout.

Keane's body is bending and twisting now, undulating like an upright worm along with the song.

"Yeah, baby!" I shout.

In one easy motion, Keane leans completely back, touches the ground with his fingertips, and then pops back up to standing.

"Wow!" I scream.

Keane's suddenly on his hands in the tight space and then back on his feet, and then he's dry humping the floor with jaw-dropping thrusts, much to my shrieking delight. Then he's back on his feet, peeling off his T-shirt while thrusting his pelvis into the air like he's in the throes of extremely rough sex. Holy hell, Keane's sweatpants are riding so low on his hips, it's a wonder they're not falling off when he's moving like that.

"Woohoo!" I shriek, laughing gleefully.

Keane throws his T-shirt onto the bed and shoots me a smolder so intense, my breathing hitches.

"Sexy," I whisper, my voice barely audible, though I'd intended to scream the word.

In a flash, Keane's standing over me as I sit in my chair, his body heat wafting over me. Right in time with the music, he picks my chair up off the ground with me in it, making me shriek, and then quickly releases my seat to the ground while holding my body up by my ass.

I open my mouth to say, "Hey, I remember that from the movie," but before I can get the words out, Keane's got my thighs on his shoulders and my crotch in his face.

"Oh my..." is all I can manage to eek out as Keane shakes his head into my crotch like a voracious dog with a bone. But before I can say anything more, Keane's strong arms are cradling my back and lowering me confidently onto the bed.

"Oh my God," I gasp. "Wow."

In a flash, Keane's on top of me, his forearms resting on either side of my head, his pelvis dry-humping me to the beat of the song.

"Whoa. At least buy me a drink first, big guy," I say.

Keane flips me onto my stomach and, an instant later, his pelvis is driving into my ass in cadence with the sexy music.

"Okay, now I'm gonna need dinner and dessert," I say.

Keane exhales from behind me and stops moving. After a beat, he flips me over onto my back and straddles me with his strong thighs, his knees on either side of my hips, his sweatpants riding low. "Are you not feeling this at all?" he asks, his breathing labored.

"Oh," I say, taken aback. I feel my cheeks blush a deep crimson. "Am I supposed to be reacting differently? I'm sorry."

"No, I just mean..." He stares down at me for a long beat, his blue eyes blazing, his muscles tensing.

"This isn't turning you on at all?"

"Oh. Um. Of course, it is. I mean, you're gorgeous. Look at you. And your smoove mooves are amazing. I especially liked that back-door-action simulation."

There's a long beat of silence as Keane stares at me, apparently rendered speechless.

Damn. I feel like I'm saying exactly the wrong thing here. "And, hey, you did that oral-sex simulation from the movie even better than Channing Tatum," I add, filling the awkward silence.

Keane's eyes are burning. Wordlessly, he grabs my hands and places them above my head on the bed, his eyes boring holes into my face like laser beams. But he doesn't speak.

"Um," I say. I swallow hard. Whoa, this is kinda hot all of a sudden. "And, um, when you ripped off your shirt," I whisper, my heartbeat suddenly raging in my ears, "that part was really..." I trail off, too flustered to finish my sentence. Wow, this is suddenly really, really hot.

Keane lets out a shaky breath but, still, he doesn't speak. He slides his palms into mine and clasps my fingers. "That part was really what?" he finally asks softly, his eyes flickering with heat.

"Cool?"

Keane smirks. He releases my fingers and slides his palms out of mine, down past my wrists and forearms, over my armpits, all the way down to my ribcage, where he finally lets his hands come to a rest mere inches from my breasts.

I open my mouth to speak, thinking I should fill the silence between us, but I'm suddenly too overcome to form words. Every inch of the flesh Keane just touched is tingling like crazy. And I'm hyper-aware of the placement of his warm, strong hands on my body. If he moved them a mere inch, he'd be touching my breasts.

"Did I do anything at all to get your motor running?" Keane asks softly, his eyes locked with mine, his pelvis heavy on top of me.

I let out a long exhale to steady myself. I'm really not sure how to answer Keane's question. Honestly, this thing he's doing to me right now is getting my motor running ten times more than the actual "lap dance" he performed a few minutes ago.

When I don't reply to his question, Keane slides his hands up from my ribcage — over my armpits, past the sensitive undersides of my arms, across my forearms and wrists — and into my palms again.

But he remains quiet.

Good God, what's he doing to me? He's wreaking havoc on my body with the simplest of touches.

Keane leans over me, his eyes burning like coals, his fingers intertwined in mine. "You weren't feeling it at all?" he whispers.

"Oh, no, I totally was," I sputter. "It's just that... um..." I begin. I take a deep breath, gathering myself. "When you did your whole stripper-thing, it felt like you were doing a Channing Tatum impression—like you were playing a character, rather than just being Keane." I swallow hard. "And... um." I shut my mouth. Keane's begun gliding his hands from my palms down toward my torso again, and I'm too overcome with tingles to speak further.

"And...?" Keane coaxes as he runs his hands down and then back up my arms, his body hulking over mine.

My heart is pounding like a freakin' jackhammer. And so is my crotch. What the heck is this shirtless boy doing to me, pinning me here on the bed and caressing my bare flesh like that? He's turning me into a freakin' pile of goo. "And..." I swallow hard again.

"Tell me," Keane says.

Shoot. I really don't think I should say the words on the tip of my tongue. Once I say them, I won't be able to stuff them back in again, after all — and, as sexy as Keane is — and, damn, he's most definitely sexy — I have no intention of nudging this friendship of ours outside the friend zone.

Or do I?

"And...?" Keane prompts again, his face on fire.

I exhale a long, shaky breath. "And I think," I begin, my tongue thick and clumsy in my mouth. "Um. It turns out... I think Keane Morgan is... much... sexier... than Ball Peen Hammer." I take a deep breath. "Much, much sexier."










Ball Peen Hammer is a sexy romantic comedy about a stripper who will make you swoon!

Meet Keane in this STANDALONE Romance
Releasing on July 25th!
(No Prior reading required)



Ball Peen Hammer
by
Lauren Rowe

Release Date: July 25th 2016





✾ Synopsis ✾


Keane Morgan wouldn't return any of my calls or texts, and I was pissed as hell about it. I didn't want to drive from Seattle to L.A. with the guy any more than he wanted to drive with me, but I had no frickin' choice in the matter - at least, not if I wanted to use his brother Dax's coveted parking spot at UCLA.

Okay, so it turned out Keane was objectively gorgeous, and, fine, pretty funny, too. But did he have to be so damned in love with himself? I mean, jeez, the cocky way he flashed those dimples was just so orchestrated. And, honestly, what kind of guy uses the phrase "baby doll" with a straight face? Oh, that's right: the kind of guy who's a male stripper.

Yup, the cocky jerk turned out to be Seattle's answer to Magic Mike, a stripper known as "Ball Peen Hammer" - which meant Keane Morgan was emphatically not the kind of guy I'd ever fall for.

Not. At. All.

No freakin' way.

Well, until Keane convinced me to fall for him, that is.

Which I did.

Hard.














✿ The Author ✿


USA Today and international bestselling author Lauren Rowe lives in San Diego, California, where, in addition to writing books, she performs with her dance/party band at events all over Southern California, writes songs, takes embarrassing photos of her Boston terrier, Buster, spends time with her family, and narrates audiobooks. Much to Lauren's thrill, her books have been translated all over the world in multiple languages and hit multiple domestic and international bestseller lists. To find out about Lauren's upcoming releases and giveaways, sign up for Lauren's emails or say hi to her on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.



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♡ Excerpt Reveal ♡ Stoned by Mandi Beck @authormandibeck @RSofRomance #ExcerptReveal #ComingSoon #PreOrder #OneClick





PROLOGUE


STONE

Head swimming, hands clammy, and with cold sweat trickling down my spine, I stand on the stage with the lights beaming down on me, hotter than the fucking sun. With the music humming through my body, I let the deafening roar of the crowd wash over me like a balm to my toxic soul. I would kill for a fucking line of blow right now.

This should be more important than any high. Then again, so should she. I shake my head to rid myself of that shit and the world of hurt that goes along with it. There's no time to waste on things I can't change, not on this stage anyway.

I smile at them, raise my arms, and motion with my hands for them to give me more, and they do. I feed off their energy; the stadium is alive with it and I need it to breathe life back into me. Not that I fucking deserve it.

Reaching for my mic stand, I bring it to my mouth and give them my "rock star" smirk. The one that says I'm the guy your mama warned you about and the one that your daddy has dreaded since the day you were born.

"Hello New York!" I yell into the mic, making them go even crazier. "Are you guys ready to rock?" Behind the drums, I give Lawson the cue to start the countdown and the show begins despite the fact that my heart isn't really in it tonight. She isn't waiting in the wings for me.

Two hours later we head off stage toward the dressing rooms and the after parties that I love a little too much. Wiping the sweat from my face, I almost miss her standing there with her back against the wall, that sad damn look on her face that I put there. Willow was here. I was crazy to think she wouldn't be. With new-found confidence I watch as she gives the guys a wave as they greet her. Knowing that something isn't right with us, the boys are smart enough not to linger.

"Willow." Her name leaves my mouth on a strained breath. I was sure that I would have to hunt her down and beg for forgiveness after the shit I said to her. The accusations I hurled all while tears streamed down her face. Shit I can barely remember because I was so fucking high. Words that I thought I'd said in a dream, only when I woke up to find her gone, I knew it wasn't a dream. More like a goddamn nightmare, and I was living it.

"I need to get my things out of the hotel room, and I don't have my key. My name isn't on the reservation so they won't give me one at the front desk. I wasn't sure if you were planning to leave right after the show or not, so..." She trails off. "I won't take long, and I'll leave it at the front desk for you, for when you get back."

All of this is said in a cold, detached ramble that I'm not used to hearing from my Wills. Her face looks drawn, her eyes red-rimmed. I broke her and that kills me. We've been together for years, and in one night, I threw it all away. And for what? I can't even remember right now. No, that's not true. It wasn't just one night. I've been throwing her away every damn night for months. Chasing that high, letting the paranoia seep in where it didn't belong.

"I just need to grab my stuff and then I have a flight to catch." She's so... empty. Void and despondent. It stabs at my insides. Bile churning with the knowledge that I snuffed out her light.

"You—you're leaving Wills?" The pain I feel at that rocks me.

Shaking her head at me, I see the tears glistening in her hollowed out eyes.

"Don't. Don't call me that! The only reason that I'm even still here is because my purse is in the room with my phone and ID in it. Otherwise, I would be home by now." There's an underlying thread of hysteria and damning heard in her words.

It hits me then just how big of a bastard I really am. I hurt her, forced her to walk out on me last night, all because of my insecurities, my need to occupy that place of numbness, my heaven and her hell. And now she tells me that she had no phone, no money, no clothes. Nothing.

"Where did you stay last night, Wills? Where did you go without your purse?"

She flinches mildly and then shuts down again. "Don't worry about it, Stone. I'm not your concern anymore. You don't have to take care of my 'needy ass'. I can take care of myself."

I can see the anger flaring, red creeping across her beautiful face, but I can also see her lip quivering as she recounts the hurtful things I said to her last night. Words meant to hurt but that were in no way true. I was a dick, I screwed up, and I know in my heart she won't give me a chance to make it right. I pushed her too far for too long, and now she's done.

"Willow, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean any of it. I was drunk and stupid. Please, baby, let's talk about it. As soon as the tour is over we can go away just you and me." There's desperation in my voice, fear lacing my words. I can’t lose her. I'm not me without her.

"I'm finished talking. I am sick of being accused of things I would never do. I am over walking on eggshells with you, afraid to upset you. Worrying that I'll end up alone in our room again, in another strange city that I followed you to, wondering where you are and who you're with and what you're doing. Hoping this high won't be the one that you take too far. I'm done with all of it. I love you and I have stood by you, putting up with all of it because I wanted to support you. To be there for you because I know that you are under a lot of pressure, but now I'm done. I'm going home. I see now that I never should have left."

This is all said with such finality that I feel panic bubbling up inside me. I open my mouth to beg her to stay and talk when a trashy-looking blonde walks up and slides her hand up my arm.

"Stone, I thought you were going to call me," she whines as she strokes her fingers back and forth over the tattoo on my arm, the willow tree that I got as a surprise for my girl long ago. I snatch my arm away from the blonde and look up at Wills, my eyes wild.

"Baby, it's not what you think. I swear to you, Wills, it isn't." I have no clue if that's the truth.

"Save it, Stone. I heard you loud and clear last night. You're not made for one woman. I was stupid to think that you were. Can you please just give me the key so I don't miss my flight?" Her voice is laced with the anger and pain that she's feeling, that we're both feeling.

"Will—"

"Please!" she cries out, stomping her foot. I've never seen her this way. So emotional yet detached at the same time.

The blonde still standing there, watching it all.

I shake my head, imploring her with my eyes, since my words don't mean anything right now, begging for her to not do this. Taking in a painful breath, I pull out my wallet and take out the room key.

Handing it over to her, I try one more time.

"Willow, please don't leave. Not like this," I plead with her.

She takes the key card from me with a trembling hand, careful not to touch me when she does.

"I'll be out of the house by the time you get back into town. I'll leave my keys over at the studio with Addy," she says, looking right through me.

She flicks a glance over at the girl who still hasn't moved and then back to me.

"You got what you wanted, Stone. You're single and free to do whatever and whoever you want without having to worry about sneaking around. Don't keep her waiting — she looks like a sure thing."

With that little parting remark, I watch the woman of my dreams walk away and out of my life. There isn't enough music in the world that could make the pain of losing her go away. This isn't where our song ends; I won't let it. Only I'm not sure I have much of a choice. And just like that, my heart stops beating in rhythm.








Come get Wrecked with Stone and Willow in this second chance Rock Star Romance releasing on July 13th!



Stoned
by
Mandi Beck

Release Date: July 13th 2016





✾ Synopsis ✾


"A rock star with no rhythm is a man with no soul." – Stone Lockhart

As the lead singer of one of the hottest bands to hit the rock scene, fucks are free, drugs come easy, and music is life.
For as long as Stone can remember, Willow has been his music – the notes that weave his soul together.
His rhythm.
Until he threw her away.
All he has left is a handful of pills and a few lines of powder to make him forget her.
And he tries, over and over.

Clean and ready to make things right, he0s faced with the fact that Willow's moved on. She's not the same girl he cast aside. Willow's a woman sure about her purpose in life. Sure about who she's meant to love.
Stone may be lost without his rhythm, but Willow has found so much more.












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✿ The Author ✿


Writer, wife, mom, student and avid reader.

Mandi Beck has been an avid reader all of her life. A deep love for books always had her jotting down little stories on napkins, notebooks, and her hand. As an adult she was further submerged into the book world through book clubs and the epicness of social media. It was then that she graduated to writing her stories on her phone and then finally on a proper computer.

A nursing student, mother to two rambunctious and somewhat rotten boys, and stepmom to two great girls away at college, she shares her time with her husband in Chicago where she was born and raised. Mandi is a diehard hockey fan and blames the Blackhawks when her deadlines are not met.



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♡ Hottie of The Day ♡ Liam Hemsworth


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