Tuesday, September 26, 2017

FROM THE RUINS(A Satan's Knights Novel) by Janine Infante BoscoPublication Date: September 26, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense

Are you ready to get ruined with Pipe and Layla? 
Happy Release Day to Janine Infante Bosco - Author! 
¸.•´✶FROM THE RUINS¸.•´✶ 

✶#REVIEW¸.•´✶


I didn't think that the author would be able to top Roamer.  I really didn't.  I'll tell you why:  Because that was a story for the generations that would need to be told.  I hounded her to come to the Authors Invade Columbia after that book came out...Because I knew I would be buying every single book she's ever written.  I was wrong about Roamer being her best.  There's an Introduction to the book where she talks about her life and how this book, her heroine...is her.  She lays it all out there.  It's not pretty, it's not Cinderella, it's not a fairy tale story, but it's Property of Parrish.  

Pipe is an enigma and Layla is his salvation.  He's not a man any longer.  He's a shell of a man and he screws and boozes his way to oblivion until he meets Layla and her three children.  This is the best book to date of Janine's and I am so blessed that I got to read it ahead of time.  We all have regrets and we wish we could go back in time and erase the past.  Pipe can't bring his wife back and even though he thinks losing himself in the bottle and women are going to work...Layla's gonna do everything to pull him out.  I had to sit and think about this review before I wrote it.

There were a few misspelled words and a few that were used the wrong way, but in NO way did that detract from the story that you're in.  It's rich in the culture and subculture.  I loved the children in it.  I thought she brought life and light to the grieving process of death both physical and the grieving process of a marriage.  You can tell that the author gave her heart in this book and laid it bare for her readers.  We are all Property of Parrish...Ride or Die...Forever and Always.


#AVAILABLENOW
Buy Links
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2wtQoCc
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2u9Ugb3
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2v5M4vj
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2hvpl6W
Add to #Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2vqslHx
.•´✶COVER CREDITS¸.•´✶
Cover Designer: JB's Cover Obsession Design
Model: Michael Joseph
Photographer: Reggie Deanching, R+M Photography
#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe #SatansKnightsMC
#JanineInfanteBosco
¸.•´✶SYNOPSIS¸.•´✶
✶Pipe✶
In every man’s life there comes a day of reckoning. It’s the day darkness is exposed and sinners are punished for their trespasses.
A day when loyalty is destroyed and a man is left in ruins.
When he walks away from his club and loses his religion.
Whoever said from the ruins they will rise again never walked a mile in my shoes or the pair of red ones I was left holding.
✶Layla✶
He’s bitter, cold and angry.
He’s seen his share of heartache.
Lived through tragedy and despair.
He’s my neighbor.
The man I know should stay away from.
The man who will destroy what’s left of me if I get too close.
He’s Lee Jameson, and I’m Layla Milano.
This is our story.
The story of two people left in ruins forced to rise again.
***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, offensive language, and mature topics. Not recommended for people under the age of 18***
.•´✶#GIVEAWAY¸.•´✶
 #Amazon #GiftCard!
Signed paperback of From the Ruins (Signed by Janine and Michael) 
$15.00 Amazon Gift card
Giveaway direct link: 
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6dc324a88/?
.•´✶#EXCERPT¸.•´✶
Excerpt From The Ruins © Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco. Excerpt: Pipe confesses some of his truth. Sitting on the floor next to Oksana’s shoes, I reach for the bottle beside me and take a hefty swig. The liquid slides down my throat, burning my belly. I embrace the pain. I relish in it and wish for more. If I had any balls whatsoever, I’d take a knife to my own throat and feel the pain she felt when her life ended. “Hey, babe,” I mutter. “You with me today?” I ask the shoes, praying that by some miracle of God they’ll answer me. They won’t. They never do. But tonight, more than anything, more than whiskey and pain, I need her. I need to believe that she stills walks beside me every day. It doesn’t matter that she’s unseen or unheard, just as long as she’s near. It’s selfish of me to want her with me considering everything I’ve done since she’s left this earth. The booze, the nameless women, the list is fucking endless. “I forgot,” I confess as I close my eyes and take another gulp. “For a little while I forgot and it wasn’t because I was shitfaced or because I was too busy getting off to think of anything else. For the first time since you died, I distracted myself with a woman and didn’t fuck her. The shit thing is, it felt worse than sinking my dick into some faceless stranger. I came home, saw the shoes and felt guilty for playing you dirty.” Placing the bottle on the floor next to me, I lift my hands to my face and rub vigorously. “I’m losing it, Oksana,” I mutter. “I’m losing my fucking mind trying to live when all I want to do is die. What’s the point in living when everything I ever loved—you, the club, everything—is gone.” Taking a deep breath, I draw my hands away from my face and lean my head against the wall. “I forgot,” I whisper. “I forgot I had nothing because at the hardware store I was the guy who had everything. In the grocery store I was the man who had too much, and in Layla’s kitchen I was the man who wanted more.” When Layla’s friend Joey showed up and set me straight, I walked away. One glance at him and I remembered who I was and what I was worth. There is a reason men like him have everything and men like me have nothing. It’s nothing new to me. In fact, it’s something I’ve learned through the years, through the loss I’ve experienced myself and the loss I’ve witnessed through the eyes of my brothers. It’s the reason Wolf has three ex-wives and Jack buried his son. It’s the reason Riggs almost lost his woman and his child, and it’s the very reason Bones died. It’s why Blackie brings Christine flowers on a Saturday and I’m sitting here talking to a pair of shoes. It’s the choices you make when you’re young, the choices you think have no consequences. I’d be willing to bet my life that guy Joey doesn’t live with a mountain of regrets. A man like that rides on the right side of the law. He works hard for everything he has and that’s why he gets to keep it. He is rewarded for the choices he made when he was younger, when he fought against temptation and struggled instead of taking the easy way out in life. It is men like that who work a nine to five who never worry about bombs and bullets, and who live life to its fullest potential. I used to call those men pussies. But I’m the one sitting here with a half empty bottle of booze and a pair of shoes, looking for the courage to end my nightmare. The excessive knocking on the door jolts me away from my pity party and forces me onto my feet. Without wondering who it might be, I pull open the door and stare at Layla’s pretty face. Lifting the plate in her hands, she smiles warmly and a fire spreads throughout my chest. It’s the pain I’ve been looking for, the sweet satisfaction of my punishment. “Hi,” she murmurs. “You left kind of abruptly before—” “Why are you here?” I sneer, cutting her off. “Well, I thought if you couldn’t stay for dinner then I could bring dinner to you,” she explains, extending a dish toward me. She’s nice. Too fucking nice. I can’t handle nice. I can’t handle good. She made me forget today. She made me wish for more. Now I need her to remind me of the truth. I need her to lash out at me and give me the rawness of pain. I need her to prove to me I’m not worthy of her spit. I need the bitter, angry Layla who isn’t afraid to tell the guy next door he’s a bastard. “Look, lady, I fixed your fucking sink, played bitch to you and your kids all day and started the repairs on your car. Now I thought we were done for the day. What more can you possibly need from me? The roof cave in and you need some jerkoff to patch it up for you?” Her eyes flash and her nostrils flare as she glares at me. There it is. Give it to me, killer. Show me the truth. “Have you been drinking?” she asks, clenching her teeth. “What’s it to you?” I fire back. “I ain’t on the clock again until tomorrow.” Silently, she stares at me and I figure she’s getting a glimpse of the devil until her features soften. She cocks her head to the side and the fire fades from her eyes. “What’s happening here?” she whispers. “I thought we were okay. I mean, today—” “Today, nothing. Today I fucking bent over backward and took it in the ass because I felt bad for you.” “You felt bad for me?” she repeats. Come on, give it to me. “I pitied you. Look, lady, I get it. You’re lonely. Your husband left you, probably for a woman half your age. That would explain why you’re so fucking bitter, but I’m not looking to lick your wounds and play Daddy to a bunch of brats,” I sneer. “Maybe you can get that Joey character to pity fuck you and take on your tribe.” Suddenly, she drops the plate and rears her hand back. Her palm connects with my cheek and I grin devilishly at her. Burn. Make me burn. “That the best you got, killer?” “Fuck you,” she shrieks, pushing her hair out of her face as she clenches her jaw. “Not that it is any of your fucking business but Joey is my best friend’s husband! As for my marriage, I’m the one who left. My children have one father and one mother and that’s all they’ll ever have. You ever talk about my kids like that again, so help me Jesus I will fucking gut you. And as far as looking for someone to fuck me, I have standards and a vibrator, and even if I didn’t I’m pretty sure you’d be the last man I’d want to satisfy me. I wasn’t looking for anything. I came here because you were helpful to me and my children and I wanted to return the favor but you can…” Her words trail off. “Don’t stop there,” I growl. Following her gaze, my eyes zero in on Oksana’s shoes. “Of course,” she laughs sarcastically. “I should’ve known you’d have company. You must be slacking though since there is only one pair of shoes tonight,” she shouts as she goes to reach for them. “You’re a fucking pig,” she seethes. Snapping, my control flees and I reach for her wrist. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I scold, foaming at the mouth. “Those are my wife’s shoes,” I holler as I lose my footing and stumble back. Falling on my ass, Layla pulls her hand free from me and takes a step backward. Her eyes widen and she looks appalled. “You’re married?” she asks with her voice full of disgust. “Oh my God, you’re fucking married? I didn’t think it was possible for you to be a bigger piece of shit but—” “She’s fucking dead,” I shout, unable to listen to her anymore. I thought having her tell me I was a worthless piece of garbage would make me feel better, but having her think I’ve been stepping out on my wife is too much. Call me all the names in the world, blame me for her death, but don’t tell me I wasn’t devoted to her. I’m a lot of things but I’m no fucking cheat. “Lee,” she whispers hoarsely. “Get out,” I order, combing my fingers through my hair. Angling my head back, I meet her pitiful gaze and I shake my head. “Don’t look at me like that.” “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. Instead of taking a step backward, she takes two forward and kicks away the broken plate. She bends her knees and crouches down in front of me. It’s wrong. So fucking wrong. I don’t want her pity. Fuck her and her sorrow. “Go away,” I plead. Leave me to my hell. Leave me to my grief. Leave me alone where I’m meant to be. “I didn’t know,” she explains. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, turning away from her. “Lee—” she whispers. Then I feel her. Her hand touches mine and an electric current passes from her fingertips to mine. It’s too much and I snap my hand back. My eyes find hers and the burn in my chest deepens as the tears roll down her cheeks. “Get the fuck out,” I growl. She doesn’t move for a moment before she wipes her eyes and whispers her apologies once more. Without another word, she stands, but before she turns around she glances at the shoes. The truth is in those shoes. They’re the reminder. For those red shoes don’t only symbolize the sharp knife of a short life. They prove the worse consequence of all is waking up every day in a world you’re unworthy of living in. That’s the fucking truth I forgot. The truth Layla made me forget. A truth I’m unworthy of forgetting.
#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe #SatansKnightsMC
#JanineInfanteBosco
.•´✶ABOUT AUTHOR JANINE INFANTE BOSCO¸.•´✶
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild. Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong-willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself. She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
¸.•´✶CONNECT WITH JANINE¸.•´✶
Amazon Author Profile: http://amzn.to/2b98hQM
Book Bub Author Profile: http://bit.ly/2kXDpo1


THE CORNER OF FOREVER AND ALWAYS Release Day Blitz Assets

ABOUT THE BOOK



Title: THE CORNER OF FOREVER AND ALWAYS
Author: Lia Riley
Series: Everland, Georgia #2
On Sale: September 26, 2017
Publisher: Forever
Mass Market: $7.99 USD
eBook: $5.99 USD

Fairy tales aren't ever what they seem . . .

Tuesday Knight's dream of Broadway stardom has flopped, leaving her unemployed and brokenhearted. Ready to quit kissing frogs and make her own happily-ever-after, she takes a job as a princess in Everland, Georgia's historical amusement park.

Mayor Beau Marino lives an unenchanted existence-all work, no play-which is fine by him. After his marriage ended in disaster, the last thing he wants in his life is more drama. But Everland's new free spirit has a talent for getting under his starched collar.

When the town's beloved but bankrupt park might be shut down, Tuesday and Beau face a choice. Can they join forces, save the day-and each other? Or will their fierce battle of wills destroy any chance of a fairy-tale ending?

In the tradition of New York Times bestselling authors Kristan Higgins, Jill Shalvis, and Marina Adair, comes the second book in Lia Riley's Everland, Georgia series about two city sisters finding love in a small town.

BUY THE BOOK HERE




EXCERPT

“I’m nervous.” The tightness in his tone backed up the muscles bunching near the hinge in his jaw. And the simple, honest admission did something to her that no amount of flirtatious back-and-forth ever would.
“So am I.” She began buttering the dish. “Who taught you how to cook?”
He stirred the chocolate in the double boiler, hands clenching the spoon. “Mama used to say that a man needed to know three things: how to fix a dessert, iron his own shirt and sew a button. That some day future women would thank her.”
               “Smart lady.” Tuesday laughed, grateful for a moment to recalibrate, to slow her racing heart. “I suck at ironing by the way.”
               Beau gave her a resolute stare. “I make my own starch.”
               “Stop.” She nearly dropped the dishtowel. “No, you don’t.”
               “One tablespoon of cornstarch in two cups of water.”
               Her gaze fixed on the rare smile tugging the corner of his mouth. The revelation was oddly endearing. “I’m not sure whether to be impressed or terrified.”
               “Your mama didn’t teach you these things?”
               Tuesday thought. “We grew up in small town Maine.”
               “Sounds cold.”
               “So, so cold. So much snow. So much cold. Beautiful though.”
               “I’d like to check it out, in summer.”
               “Yeah, good idea. My dad ran a maple sugarbush farm, made homemade maple syrup. Mom was his opposite. He loved being outdoors. She liked being inside. I guess they were opposites,  must have attracted at some point but over time they repelled each other. Pushed one another further and further away. She left when I was in high school. Moved down to New Hampshire where she was from and met a banker. They live in the suburbs. She has a housekeeper now.”
               “She abandoned your family?”
               “I. . .you know, I don’t know. My sister thinks so. I was the baby. My mom used to love to style my hair. She could do so many intricate braids. We didn’t have much money but she’d shop at thrift stores and garage sales and find me cute dresses. Sometimes I’d find her sad and I’d try to cheer her up. I’d ask her to brush my hair and she would,  even though sometimes I could hear her sniffling and I knew if I turned around I’d see her crying.”
               Tears sprang to her eyes and she ground her fists into them. “Wow. Hello! Where'd these come from.” God, way to keep things light. Her inconvenient emotions would probably sink the night.
               “I’m sorry that happened.”
               “Me too.” She took a breath. Then another.
“Can we return to the regularly scheduled programming? Chocolate is always the cure.”
               Beau looked like he might press forward but changed his mind at the last moment. “My mama taught me how to separate yolks from whites. Can I show you?”
               “I won’t pretend that I have skills. Instruct away.”
               “Okay, pick an egg, any egg.”
               She selected a brown one and he stepped behind her, her back heating against his  chest. His arms slid over hers. “Now what you do is give it a tap to open the shell. No! Not so big, just a little one.” His hand engulfed hers, guiding the movement. “Good. That’s real good. Now let the yolk settle in one side. That’s it. Now you start to transfer the egg back and forth and back and forth, let the white run out like that until voila! All you have left is the yolk.”
               Tuesday gawked at the golden yolk in the shell. “Martha Stewart eat your heart out.”
               He checked the chocolate and milk, it had melted down into a decadent pool.
               “Can we eat that as is? I’m sure the souffle is amazing and all but hey, a bowl of melted warm chocolate is going to do me fine.”
               His laugh was just as decadently rich. “Haven’t you ever heard that good things come to those who wait?”
               “Sure, by people waiting,” she quipped. “They need something to tell themselves.”
               That really got him going, his deep laugh rich as sun-warmed molasses. “Let me make you a deal.”
               “I’m not agreeing until I hear the terms.”
               “Smart woman. When you have this dessert, you are going to say it’s better than the best sex you’ve ever had.”
               She set her hands on her hips. “You have a low opinion of my sex life.”
               “Nah.” He winked. “Just a very high opinion on my soufflé.”
               She arched a brow. “You’re on.”  
               Standing behind her he continued to help guide her effortlessly through measurements and pouring, mixing and stirring. He didn’t grind on her or get perverted, not that she’d have minded. Chocolate was meant to be an aphrodisiac and she’d never experienced anything so sexily mundane as chatting over nothings in the kitchen with a man who didn’t try to cop a feel. He appreciated and and even savored her for who she was and what she offered which right now was fully dressed fairly polite company.
               In fifteen minutes he opened the oven and slid the soufflé in.
“And now?”
               “We wait,” he answered. “Until it’s puffed on top and jiggly in the center.”
               “You have a way of making cooking sexy.”
               “Do I? I guess that helps even the field.”
               “How so?”         
               “You make breathing look sexy.” His gaze lingered on hers for a few beats before he turned and began to wash the dishes.
She stared at the back of his head, his broad shoulders, his narrow hips, blinking in surprise. He seemed wholly unaware that he’d broken her heart and put it back together, refashioned into something new, stronger and brighter.




THE EVERLAND, GEORGIA SERIES

IT HAPPENED ON LOVE STREET, #1
THE CORNER OF FOREVER AND ALWAYS, #2




ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lia Riley is a contemporary romance author. USA Today describes her as "refreshing" and RT Book Reviews calls her books "sizzling and heartfelt." She loves her husband, three kids, wandering redwood forests and a perfect pour over coffee. She is 25% sarcastic, 54% optimistic, and 122% bad at math (good thing she writes happy endings for a living). She and her family live mostly in Northern California.


FOLLOW FOREVER ONLINE


GIVEAWAY


Title: Indiscretions
Author: Piper Reeds
Genre: Erotic Romance Novella
Release Date: September 26, 2017
This is one story I never dreamed I would share. I didn’t think anyone would understand. Why would I? I don’t really understand it myself. 
As soon as I saw him, the dangerously sexy therapist with his chiseled jaw and rock-hard abs, I knew he wasn’t your typical psychiatrist. He was every woman’s fantasy wrapped up in a seductively charming package.
I should’ve turned and walked away, but the moment I heard his voice, deep and sultry, I found myself sharing things I’d never shared with anyone—including my most intimate secret.
It was just talk, until it wasn’t. 
Some indiscretions are meant to be shared, and if you’re up for a little taboo, I’ll share my favorite indiscretion with you. It’s not like you’ll tell anyone. Right?
Looking for a book that will have your heart racing and your panties melting? Then, this hilarious, over-the-top, insta-love, sexy romance is just for you. Get your fans out ladies because this one is going to be hot! Indiscretions is a standalone novella with an HEA and no cheating.

Piper Reeds is all about having a good time. She loves laughing with her two small children, dancing with her husband, and writing sexy reads that will bring a smile to your face. As a new author, she wants to give her readers an escape from reality by writing short, love stories with hot alpha men and the women who rein them in.
HOSTED BY:
   

From #1 NYT Bestselling author Lauren Blakely, comes the sexy and hilarious title…STUD FINDER, a new novella brought to you by 1001 Dark Nights!

As a broker of happily ever afters, Evie Milligan’s job is to serve as a “stud finder,” pairing wildly successful women with men who won’t fleece them and will adore them. Her next assignment ought to be an easy one -- the man she’s seeking a match for is fun, smart, rich and in demand. The trouble is, Evie is falling hard for her client. What happens when the matchmaker meets her match?

Grab your copy today to find out!

   

✮✮✮ STUD FINDER is here! Grab your copy today! ✮✮✮

Man seeking woman: Hot, rich, smart, witty, self-made multimillionaire Internet genius seeks classy, intelligent, sexy, fun-loving woman who’s interested in settling down and sharing all the good things.

There. Best. Ad. Ever.

I will absolutely find the woman of my dreams, someone who’ll love me for me. Even if my sister thinks I need help dating, I’m confident I can pull this off, courtesy of the great worldwide web.

Let me just hit the upload button right now…

*****

No. Just no. As a woman and a professional matchmaker, I can’t let Dylan Parker run this ad. He’s the catch of all catches. That’s why his sister has asked me to help her ridiculously good-looking, insanely rich, but socially clueless brother find a woman. As a broker of happily ever afters, I’m known as the Stud Finder since I make a great living pairing wildly successful women with men who won’t fleece them but will adore them. After all, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t fall in love with Dylan?

I mean, besides me. It totally won’t be me.

 

Grab your copy of STUD FINDER today!

Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon Canada | Amazon AU

 

Download the Free Kindle App

     

“Witty dialogue, fun dates, and a deliciously nerdy hero all match perfectly with a heroine who doesn't really know she needs all that until it's right there in front of her. Lauren Blakely has another winner with this one!”

~Crystal, Bookseller

    Excerpt : What am I doing? Dylan is my client’s brother. Dylan is now my client. I’m not interested in a match for myself. I’m not looking for love. I’m focused on work, and Dylan is my work. The trouble is, my work turns me on more than I expected, and that’s for one elemental reason—I like him. I like him so very much. That’s why I jerk this conversation back to the purpose of these get-togethers—prepping him for his princess charming, whoever she may be. I brush one palm against the other. “The big question is—are you ready for me to set you up on your first date? Or do you think the fall in yoga has set you back?” I wink. “You think falling in yoga means I’m not ready to date?” I laugh. Nervously. “Well, not entirely. But it did remind me what we talked about before we had tea. That we all have a bit of dork in us. So, I didn’t know if you wanted to walk through all the potential topics, moments, pitfalls, and so on.” “Like a pre-date prep? Or maybe even a practice session?” “Sure, we can practice now if you’d like,” I offer. He doesn't answer right away. When he does, he takes his time, like he’s making an offer. “Or maybe we can practice in a true date simulation.” Tingles race over my shoulders. “Like a practice date?” His eyes twinkle like stars. “I need a practice date badly. Can I take you on one? It would be so helpful to review everything. Make sure I’m ready.” When he puts it like that… “Yes, of course.” I want him to put his best foot forward. I didn’t say yes because I want to date him. I wouldn’t do that, even though when he walks away, all I can think is how on earth did I wind up with a pitter-pattering heart for a man I’m handing off to another woman?        

“Warning: You will get addicted to the DRUG that is Lauren Blakely's writing!!!”

~Karen, Bookalicious Babes Blog

   
    About Lauren Blakely: A #1 New York Times Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that's hot, sweet and sexy. She lives in California with her family and has plotted entire novels while walking her dogs. With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than eighty times, and she's sold more than 2 million books. In October she'll release HARD WOOD, a sexy, standalone romantic comedy. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! laurenblakely.com/newsletter    

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** Newsletter ** Goodreads

       

   

From New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis comes the next sexy, standalone novel in the Heartbreaker Bay series... Don’t miss the amazing excerpt and giveaway below, and grab your copy today!

   

About CHASING CHRISTMAS EVE:

Meet cute...

Run for the hills—temporarily. That’s Colbie Albright’s plan when she flees New York for San Francisco. Wrangling her crazy family by day and writing a bestselling YA fantasy series by night has taken its toll. In short, Colbie’s so over it that she’s under it. She’s also under the waters of a historic San Francisco fountain within an hour of arrival. Fortunately, the guy who fishes Colbie out has her looking forward to Christmas among strangers. But she’s pretty sure Spencer Baldwin won’t be a stranger for long.

Make merry...

Spence’s commitment to hiding from the Ghosts of Relationships Past means he doesn’t have to worry about the powerful—okay, crazy hot—chemistry he’s got with Colbie. Just because she can laugh at anything, especially herself... just because she’s gorgeous and a great listener…just because she “gets” Spencer immediately doesn’t mean he won’t be able to let Colbie go. Does it?

…and hope for a miracle.

Now the clock’s ticking for Colbie and Spence: Two weeks to cut loose. Two weeks to fall hard. Two weeks to figure out how to make this Christmas last a lifetime

   

Order CHASING CHRISTMAS EVE in ebook or paperback, now available!

 

Amazon | iBooks | Kobo| Barnes & Noble

       

Add to your Goodreads

    EXCERPT:  At the unexpected sight of Spence, Colbie startled hard. How was it that he was the one who needed glasses and yet she’d not seen him standing against the window? “No, I don’t kill a lot of people,” she said cautiously because she was wearing only a towel in front of a strange man. “But I’m happy to make an exception.” He laughed, a rough rumble that was more than a little contagious but she controlled herself because, hello, she was once again dripping wet before the man who seemed to make her knees forget to hold her up. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said and pushed off the wall to come close. She froze, but he held up his hands like, I come in peace, and crouched at her feet to scoop up the clothes she hadn’t realized she’d dropped. Leggings, a long forgiving tee, and the peach silk bra-and-panty set that hadn’t gotten so much as a blink from the TSA guy. But it got one out of Spence. He also swallowed hard as she snatched them back from him. “Hold on,” he said and caught her arm, pulling it toward him to look at her bleeding elbow. “Sit,” he said and gently pushed her down to a weight bench. He vanished into the bathroom and came back out with a first aid kit. It took him less than two minutes to clean and bandage the scrape. Then, easily balanced at her side on the balls of his feet, he did the same for both her knees, which she hadn’t noticed were also scraped up. “You must’ve hit the brick coping as you fell in the fountain,” he said and let his thumb slide over the skin just above one bandaged knee. She shivered, and not from the cold either. “Not going to kiss it better?” she heard herself ask before biting her tongue for running away with her good sense. She’d raised her younger twin brothers. Scrappy, roughhouse wild animals, the both of them so there’d been plenty of injuries she’d kissed over the years. But no one had ever kissed hers. Not surprising, since most of her injuries tended to be on the inside, where they didn’t show. Still, she was horrified she’d said anything at all. “I didn’t mean—” She broke off, frozen like a deer in the headlights as Spence slowly lowered his head, brushing his lips over the Band-Aid on her elbow, then her knees. When he lifted his head, he pushed his glasses higher on his nose, those whiskey eyes warm and amused behind his lenses. “Better?”    

     

And don’t miss the previous books in Jill Shalvis’s Heartbreaker Bay Series, SWEET LITTLE LIES, THE TROUBLE WITH MISTLETOE and ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE, now available! Grab your copies HERE!

   

About Jill Shalvis: New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s sexy contemporary and award-winning books wherever romances are sold and click on the blog button above for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.      

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter SignUp

   


He’s not a douchebag;
but that doesn’t stop his friends from
turning him into one.

                               

MY FRIENDS WANT ME TO GET LAID. So much so that they plastered my ugly mug all over campus, in bold printed letters: Are you the lucky lady who’s going to break our roommate’s cherry? Him: socially awkward man with average-sized penis looking for willing sexual partner. You: must have pulse. Text him at: 555-254-5551 The morons can’t even spell. And the texts I’ve been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I’m not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one.

THIS ISN’T THE KIND OF ATTENTION I WANT. 
One text stands out from hundreds. One number I can’t bring myself to block. She seems different. Hotter, even in black and white.   However, after seeing her in person, I know she’s not the girl for me. But my friends won’t let up—they just don't get it. Douchebags or not, there's one thing they'll never understand: GIRLS DON’T WANT ME. Especially her.

Amazon | Amazon UK | iBooks | B&N | KOBO


 He’s seated at a table in the far corner when I spot him from the door. He’s not hard to miss—not with his purple t-shirt in a sea of black and yellow, and wavy mussed hair. He’s slouching, hunched over his table. Defeated. Tired. My stomach rolls with nerves, nerves that have me rooted to the spot in the doorway, watching him. Just watching. For the entire four minutes I stand here, he sits immobile, studying his laptop, eyes moving along the screen, completely transfixed by whatever he’s reading. Learning. “Just go over there,” I whisper to myself, blowing out a puff of pent-up air. I put one foot in front of the other and begin toward him, spine ramrod straight, steeling myself, prepared for another argument. Twenty feet. Fifteen. Eight. Two. “Hi.” No reply. “Do you mind if I sit here?” I lay my hand on the back of the wooden chair across from him, intending to pull it out. He stiffens but doesn’t lift his head. “Yes I mind.” “Would you mind if I sat at the table next to you?” I’m pushing his buttons, looking for a reaction, but he only spares me a brief glance. Shrugs. “Free country.” I bite my lip to hide a smile, glad he didn’t tell me to take a hike...



Okay, so the rules of fight club are:

1. You don't tell anyone about fight club...It's the same with this book!!!


The rules of the How to Date a Douchebag Club are:

1. We can't tell y'all who the book is about or really what it's about...so what do we tell everyone?


It was really hard trying to come up with a review on something that you can't, you know...write. So, I'll tell you how I was feeling while I was reading it. I felt like the author was hiding in my bathroom and watching my life. Do you know how freaky that is? Seriously? Like, I checked my closet to make sure she wasn't going to pop out and go "Gotcha" and "I'm writing your story!!" The only difference is that I'm the guy in this scenario. I'm not a beautiful girl - I know this. So I've worked on my personality until I'm pretty darn funny and I can make dinner conversation for just about anything. When the main character had certain thoughts about himself not measuring up, I've had those thoughts and my heart broke for him. I wanted to hug him. Get out of my head author!! It's just not right that you're in there!! As for the heroine - I didn't like her at first...I thought she was a total seabiscuit, but then I realized that pretty people have issues too. The problem is that pretty people sometimes hide it better than that ugly people because they have all that prettiness going for them and it's like camouflage. As a society, we flock to shiny objects that are beautiful - it's natural, but if you take something that's plain and has just an alrightness to it...we don't really look too hard. This is why I really LOVED this book and hope that everyone reads it. And for the love of God people - don't catfish...it's not nice. Be who you are and others will see it!

This is probably one of the most well written books I've read this year and each Chapter header had me laughing out loud. Not only am I recommending it, but I know I'm gifting copies to all my friends because they need to read it...not cause they're pretty or anything.


So, I know this is the vaguest review ever with no explaining about the plot or whatever, but - hey I'm not getting my butt kicked by the Sara...


I was given an ARC copy by the author/publisher in exchange for an honest review. All opinions expressed are my own and do not reflect anyone else's.

  

 

Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte's, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British. She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog. Facebook Twitter | Instagram