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Monday, August 20, 2018

Take a Chance on Me by Jaqueline Snowe 💕 Review Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕 (Sports Romance)

Kate Zell and Brody Carlson have been best friends since elementary school. Their relationship had always been easy. Both of them loyal to a fault, they had been there for each other through everything: heartbreaks, hangovers, and tragedy. So when Kate needs a place to stay for three months, Brody doesn’t think twice about agreeing. After all, they had known each other forever. Would could go wrong living with his closest and oldest friend?

Apparently, everything. Three months in a small apartment becomes more than complicated. Brody shouldn’t be attracted to his dorky best friend…he most definitely shouldn’t. That would be absurd. She’s a relationship girl and he’s more a one-night-sans-clothes kind of guy.

One drunken dare of strip poker changes everything. Suddenly, two people with too much to lose play a dangerous game. The unapologetic playboy and the girl-next-door have a choice to make, if only their pasts didn’t keep getting in the way of their future.

If I could give this book 10 stars, I would!

I am IN LOVE with Jaqueline's writing style. This book had me laughing and truly thoroughly entertained in a way I haven't been in a while.

Kaye and Brody have a true "best friend" relationship. Reading their banter and how they interacted with each other was pure entertainment. Like, I want to be their third best friend.

Speaking of interactions, seeing how they evolved from "I love him like a brother" to "I love him..." was SO steamy. The slow sizzle that kept steadily growing made the tension between them absolutely delicious.

Though mostly upbeat, the book does deal with the topic of suicide. While never a pleasant thing to think about, I felt it kept a tether on the realism of the story and made it more believable, that life isn't all "everything works out perfectly!" for these characters.

All in all, I LOVED this book, I LOVE Jaqueline Snowe and I will DEFINITELY be reading her next book!!!

“I have to bat. Don’t punish me too much, please?” She puppy-dog eyed me before jogging off. She hit a solid single to right field and jumped up and down, so excited that she slipped off the bag.

“You good?” I shouted, not even trying to hide my laughter.

“Emotionally bruised. That’s all.” She brushed the dirt off her ass and ran like a fool when the next person hit a triple. She jogged up to me, out of breath with her hands on her knees. “Lay it on me. What do I have to do?”

“Go on a date with me. Don’t overthink it.”

“Wait, that’s it?” She looked up at me with a furrowed brow. “A date?”


“You? On a date? With me?”

“Yes, that is typically how it works, right? Or is that not what people do anymore?”

“But…Brody.” She shook her head and kicked the dirt, running her foot back and forth. “It’s you.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Anger crept up my chest.

“You don’t do ‘dates.’” Her little air quotes pissed me off.

“I don’t really care what I do or don’t do. You lost the bet. Your punishment is a date. End of, Shorty.” I ran a hand down her arm, squeezing. “Turn off your overactive brain.”

A smile broke through her barriers, and she bit her delicious lip. “Okay. When?”

“You’ll get details at a later date.” I puffed my chest and tried not to appear too smug.

“Oh, so your people will call my people?” She snorted, shoving me in the side.

“You realize I do have people, right?”

“Oh, my God. I forgot. You do.”

“So, I need to hear a yes.”

“Sure. I guess. I don’t have a choice.” She grumbled and picked up her glove to walk to her car.

“No, you don’t.”
💕 During this tour 💕
(Always double-check the price before you buy)


The Real You by R.M. Alexander 💕 Book Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕 (Romantic Suspense)

"Movie Star Romance on a whole other level!"

Reeling from a nasty divorce, Paige Reed wants to move forward, and leave the past where it belongs - behind her. A spontaneous decision leads her to a location set for a movie where she meets sexy Hollywood insider, Kellen Richards.

Kellen's southern charm sweeps Paige off her feet, despite the hungry paparazzi watching in the background. But when a tragedy proves to be anything but accidental, he vows to protect Paige with every resource at his beck and call.

While Paige fights to find her place in his world, Kellen must engage in a lethal game of chess, their lives and blossoming love at stake.

What Readers are saying:
"Emotional roller coaster that took me along for the ride!"
"Heartbreaking yet uplifting!"

Nominated for 2017 Reader's Choice Award and 2018 Author Academy Award

Paige sauntered past tables of clinking silverware, murmurs and crunching fresh bread. Her stomach rolled. Full or not, she may have to indulge further. It'd been awhile since she had a dinner that tasted this good.
She edged to a long table dressed in flowers and several punch bowls full of pretty pink liquid. Picking a glass from the far end, Paige reached for the ladle of the closest crystal bowl.
"Please, allow me."
She glanced up, hand hovering above the silver ladle. "I, uh, thank you."
Paige held a cup as Grey Richards poured the punch. "You and your friend were at the shoot today, right?"
She nodded. "Yes, for a little while. During the car chase."
"I remember. That's great. I love meeting my biggest fans."
A soft smile dressed her lips. "I can't say I'm your biggest fan. I mean ... I ... I enjoy your movies, but ... I ..." The heat in her cheeks burned her flustered nerves. "I'm sorry, I ... " She took a sip of the punch. A polite retreat was all she needed.
Grey laughed and tucked a hand in the tuxedo pants. The material flowed and hung, obviously not a rental.
A man like him probably has a closet full of top of the line tuxedos, she thought. She didn't want to venture a guess at the price tag that came with each one. It was likely to be more than she'd make in a lifetime at her job.
"Honesty. I like that. Don't get a lot of it where I come from."
Paige kept her gaze trained on the cup, heat spreading like wildfire.
He leaned back a little, gaze traveling up and down Paige's body, feet to head, and back again. Paige shifted her weight to one foot, then the other.
"You're uncomfortable around me."
She met the trademark gray-charcoal eyes. "I imagine you get that a lot."
Steady in his stare, she felt like he was drinking her in. "What's your name?"
She drew in a steadying breath. "Paige Reed."
"Paige Reed." He watched her. "Paige Reed." He turned her name in the smooth steely voice every fan knew well. "Pretty name for a pretty lady."
What a line. But he doesn't need practice with lines, she bet. She took a sip of punch, thankful the trumpeting thought didn't pass through her lips. "Thank you."
"So," he said, taking a drink of punch, "what kind of movies do you enjoy if you're not my biggest fan?"
She swallowed hard and coughed. "I didn't say I didn't like your movies."
"No, of course, you didn't." He turned to the punch and poured a second cup, took a drink. "You wouldn't admit that much, would you? I ask again, what are your favorite movies? I bet you're a romance fan."
"And if I am?"
He chuckled, hand held up in retreat. "Nothing wrong with romance. I've been looking at a couple scripts myself, but nothing's come my way that has caught my
attention. What's your favorite, if you had to choose?"
" Pride and Prejudice. The one with Keira Knightley."
He nodded. "Historical romance, huh?"
Her turn to nod.
"Good film. Good cast. And I bet you're wondering what the actors are like in real life?"
She smiled and shrugged. "No. You wouldn't tell me even if I were, and really, I'm not a National Inquiry kind of girl anyway. They're just people, who happen to make good movies. And you, you're just another person who happens to make good movies."
His smile widened. "I like that. And yet, when I first came over here, you struggled to talk to me. If I'm just another person, why was that?"
She glanced over her shoulder to the table, where Lil stood, frozen and slackjawed. Paige giggled.
"Something funny?" He glanced over her shoulder. "You're friend looks like she might be a National Inquiry kind of girl."
Paige gritted her teeth. "My sister. She's a good person, who just might be one of your biggest fans. Are you that callous towards all your biggest fans?"
"Oh, no. I didn't mean any offense." He shifted his weight. "I should let you get back to your sister. It's been interesting talking to you, Ms. Reed." He held out a hand.
"Nice talking to you, Mr. Richards." Paige shook his hand, eyes widening as he brought the back of her hand to waiting lips, eyes trained on her.
Wait. Men still do that?
A quick goodbye and he disappeared into the crowd at the front of the room.
Paige stood, hand hanging in the air, staring at his retreating figure


If I Want You by Rachel Brimble 💗 Book Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💗 (Romantic Suspense)

When local journalist, Tori Peterson, fails to prevent a child abduction outside her niece’s school, her horror and guilt sparks a vow to do whatever it takes to get little Abby Brady home to her parents.

While Tori battles the vile memories of her own kidnapping as a child, she accepts the help of widowed father, Mark Bolton. As he and Tori join forces with the local police, their attraction and intimacy grows…along with their fears for Abby.

Links are uncovered between Abby’s disappearance and Tori’s kidnapping, and Tori is forced to accept the monster who held her captive is back. But this time, Tori is all grown up, and there is no way she will let him hurt another little girl.

Inspiration - Settings/characters/plots...

The single most common questions author get asked by readers and interviewers is where we get our inspiration. This is such a difficult question to answer without leaving the person asking the question no more informed than they were before speaking with you!

Inspiration is everywhere…snippets of conversation, news articles, TV programs and movies, your experiences/others experiences, places, history. I could go on and on ☺

Let’s start with one aspect at a time…


This is where the majority of my stories begin taking shape in my imagination. I love visiting new and old places, looking for that new story idea. I’m lucky enough to live in one of the most beautiful parts of the UK. Wiltshire is rich with history, phenomenal countryside and beautiful villages. On top of that, I am just thirty minutes drive from the famous Georgian City of Bath.

There are so many places to inspire me from the churches and cathedrals, to the tiny hamlets hidden away which are bound to hold secrets. I love wandering around Bath and thinking of the many, many generations of people who have lived in this wonderful city and the struggles they faced and conquered. Look around you and ask yourself, “Who lived here?” “Who fought here?” “Who fell in love here?” “Who lost a loved one here?” And then ask yourself, “Why?” “Who?” “How?”

Templeton Cove came alive in my mind by reminiscing about my childhood holidays – the beaches, piers, oceans and shops all mixed and merged until I had created my own fictional town. Eight books later and I still love Templeton more than any place I’ve created.


This is a difficult one for me – many writers start their stories with the character, especially in romance. This rarely happens for me. Occasionally, I hear a voice or a line of dialogue and have to find out who said that and why. It usually turns out to be the hero or heroine––although, other times it has been a secondary character shouting to be heard.

I start finding my characters by trawling the Internet for pictures of famous actors or models. Usually one of the faces catches my eye and ‘speaks’ to me. I’ve found my character. After that, I complete a full character sketch looking for their story. The sketches usually produce the characters’ Goal, Motivation and Conflict. After that, I have to start plotting…


Once an author has the hero and heroine’s (also villain’s if you have one) goal, motivation and conflict, the plotting begins to formulate. I try to make the hero and heroine’s goals conflict to provide solid obstacles for them to overcome during their journey and romance. The most important element of any storytelling, and the thing that must run throughout the book, is the characters’ internal conflict/their biggest fear or point of pain. Once you’ve established this and know it will be difficult for the characters to get past whatever it is inside them that’s holding them back, you have your plot. Everything revolves around finding a way for these characters to grow and change. That is your plot. Everything else is used to colour your story.

What do you think? Do you agree? Disagree? I’d love to chat!

Sensing her discomfort, he stopped and leaned against the bureau. God, did he frighten her? Surely not, or she wouldn’t be here. Or did she sense his attraction toward her and would do all she could to deflect it? He didn’t doubt for one minute his eyes gave away his appreciation whenever he looked at her.
He lifted the can to his lips. “So, what have you been thinking about?”
She tapped a peach-painted nail on the bureau. “This.”
“The bureau?”
“Principal White’s bureau.”
He frowned. “How did you know it was hers?”
“She mentioned you were working on a bureau for her when I was in the school office. I assumed this is it.”
“It is.”
“Good, because that makes it all the easier for me to give you your first assignment.”
“You want me to talk to her.”
She smiled, took a few tentative steps closer to him. “Got it in one, Watson.”
He smiled, pleased to see genuine mischief shining in her eyes. “I’m Watson?”
“So that makes you Holmes. Not sure I like being anyone’s sidekick.”
Another couple of steps closer until no more than a couple of feet separated them. She met his eyes and his heart kicked. Her V-neck shirt was just the right side of professional. Yet, the way it revealed her collarbones and hugged her full breasts made him want to reach out and pull her into his arms, kiss her, taste her…
“You’re staring, Watson.”
He blinked and snapped his gaze from her breasts, rare heat hitting his face. “Sorry. You look nice.”
“Thanks.” She raised her eyebrows and nodded toward his chest. “So do you.”
He smiled. “Why don’t we go inside? It’s way too hot out here.”


Sunday, August 19, 2018

Captured by Her Cougar by Felicity Heaton 💕 Review, New Release Spotlight & HUGE Gift Card Giveaway 💕 (Cougar Shifter Romance)

New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton is here today for the book tour of her new shifter romance release, Captured by her Cougar, the second book in her brand new Cougar Creek Mates Series. Set in her popular Eternal Mates world, Cougar Creek Mates takes you into the deep Canadian wilderness to a secret place that’s home to a cougar shifter pride led by four sexy brothers, each guaranteed to steal your heart and set it racing! With all four books in the series releasing just weeks apart, this is going to be one hot summer.

Check out the book, download it with your Kindle Unlimited subscription if you have one, and be sure to enter the awesome grand giveaway happening at her website!

In the wake of an Archangel attack on Cougar Creek, Storm is seething with a need for revenge against the hunter organisation and the key to it might be the petite blonde mortal he’s locked in his cabin, one he’s determined to make sing for him. Only the beauty has a fiery temperament to match his own, and the more time he spends with her, the more she stokes a fire inside him. One that fills him with a startling and undeniable need to make her sing in another way—in his arms.

Gabriella isn’t going to take her captivity lying down. She’s going to give the pig-headed brute holding her against her will hell until he finally believes she’s innocent. He might be a cougar shifter, but she isn’t afraid of him. Or at least she isn’t afraid of what he is. The way he affects her, the flames that lick through her whenever they’re close, terrifies her though, because the longer she’s around the towering sexy-as-sin shifter, the hotter that fire blazes, and it’s only a matter of time before it burns away all her restraint.

With the mating heat and the attack bringing cougars back to the creek, Gabriella is a complication Storm doesn’t need, but she’s one that he wants… because she might just be his one true mate.

I LOVE these fated mates books!

I'm a total sucker for the whole paranormal-romance-true-mate-soul-mate concept, and so far, this series has it in spades. And I LOVE it.

Another thing I love, and this seems to be a trend with Felicity's series lately, is that while each book could be read as a standalone, as in they each involve a different couple, there's an underlying story that plays out over the series, so you'll really want to read it from Book One to Book Done.

Gabi was definitely feisty, and for all of her sass, Storm was just as stubborn. I was interested to see how these two would meet in the middle somehow.

And, as you can imagine, when these two collided, they released smoking hot sparks!

As you may know, Felicity is exceptional at writing action/fight scenes, and the way this one came about and how it played out kept me on the edge of my seat.

No doubt, I'm addicted to this series and can't wait to read the next one!

(I received a copy of this book in consideration of my honest thoughts)

Gabriella shook off sleep, feeling more tired than she had when she had fallen asleep on the bed. She hadn’t meant to doze off, but when she had sat on the mattress, it had been so soft and warm, and the darkness had been strangely comforting. She had dropped off before she had even noticed she was sleepy.
She pushed up on the bed and stared through bleary eyes at the door and the slim shaft of light that came through the keyhole. It was brighter now.
Either the man had fixed the electricity problem, or it was daylight.
She shuffled to the edge of the bed, her grey skirt riding up her thighs, and pushed onto her bare feet. She tugged her skirt back down and warily reached for the handle. When she turned it this time, the door moved and surprise flashed through her. She hadn’t told him anything, but he had unlocked the door anyway.
Heart in her mouth, she eased it open.
Her captor stood just feet on the other side of it, a towel slung over his bare shoulder and his sandy hair tousled and wet, a few shades darker than before. His grey eyes darkened as they landed on her, and then he turned away, picked up a pair of black jeans from the back of the brown leather couch and bent over.
She tried not to look as he slipped his feet into them and she realised he was naked, but her eyes refused to cooperate as he tugged them up and over a seriously delectable ass. He didn’t bother to button them as he moved around the small cabin, scrubbing the towel over his hair, causing it to lighten as he dried it.
A matching trail of hair started just above his navel and travelled downwards, filled the open V of his jeans and led her eyes in that direction.
He startled her by buttoning them, and she looked away, but her gaze caught on his right hip and a vicious scar that cut through the muscle that arched over it, distorting it.
He growled at her, the sound pure cougar, and her eyes leaped to the wooden floor.
Gabi made a mental note not to stare at the scar if she saw it again, because he didn’t like it.
He tugged on a black t-shirt, covering himself, and then followed it with a thick black woollen jumper that hugged his broad chest.
“Ready to sing yet?” His gruff voice filled the tense silence.
When she didn’t answer, he huffed, jammed his feet into his boots, and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.
Gabi looked at it, through the glass to him where he stood on the deck, speckled sunlight dancing over his shoulders and damp hair, and did her best not to recall how magnificent he had looked in nothing.
He was a pig, and a brute. She had cabin fever or something, was suffering some sort of mental breakdown because of the stress of her situation. That was the only reason she was eyeing him up as if he was a feast and she wanted to devour him.
Her stomach grumbled.
Or maybe she was just hungry.
She forced her eyes away from him and frowned as they landed on a plate on the kitchen counter.
One filled with a very rustic looking bread roll, butter and jam, and a smattering of fruit.
For her?
She drifted towards the kitchen, and sure enough, there was a dirty plate in the sink, together with a glass bowl. She inspected that closer, brushed her fingers over the light dusting of white on the side of it and lifted them, rubbing the residue between them.
She refused to believe the pig had baked bread.
It wasn’t possible.
She looked for him, but he was gone.
He couldn’t possibly have some refined edges, could he?
God, even she couldn’t bake. That was probably for lack of trying though. Her school had attempted to teach her how to cook, but what was the point when her family had a chef?
Gabi snatched the plate and did her best not to scoff down the food but her stomach ached so badly that she needed something in it and it wasn’t as if anyone could see her stuffing her face.
A woman with blonde hair that looked more natural than Gabi’s own dyed locks wandered past, tossing her a black look in the process, one Gabi doubted was about her eating habits and was all about her relationship to Alexander and the reason for her presence in the cabin.
She moved to her left, so she could see out of the window. There were more people in the area. She spotted two men she didn’t recognise crossing the narrow slice of green she could see, and there was a black-haired woman too. That woman had been here when she had arrived with Alexander in the helicopter though. Gabi remembered seeing her looking out of the window of a cabin near the river.
The pig crossed the grass too, heading back towards her, so she quickly finished off her food and hurried to the couch, arranging herself on it in her usual position.
The door opened and she refused to look at him as she felt his eyes on her, boring into the side of her face. They moved from her, and she snuck a glance at him, caught him putting the empty plate she had left on the side into the sink with his one.
He dumped a white plastic canister of water down on the counter where it had been, unscrewed the cap and poured half of it into a glass pitcher. He put the cap back on, set the canister in the corner of the kitchen area, and used the pitcher to fill a coffee machine.
She wanted to ask if they had electricity again, but held her tongue.
He didn’t look at her as he cracked the window above the sink open, one that wasn’t large enough for her to escape through but one that allowed fresh air to roll into the room. It was sweet with the scent of pine and dew. He left, slamming the door behind him.
Gabi eyed the coffee maker with suspicion.
She was starting to get the impression his new tactic was to convince her to talk by showing her kindness.
She would talk, but she doubted he would believe a word she said so there was very little point in talking to him. If he let her see Ivy, then she would tell her everything, because she was sure Ivy would believe her and would help the pig and his brother, Rath, see that she had nothing to do with Archangel.
She didn’t want to understand why he didn’t trust her, why he presumed she was in league with them, but she could.
Archangel were an organisation that had cells across the world, one dedicated to something that had sounded insane to her when she had found out about them barely a few months ago.
They hunted non-humans in order to protect people.
People like her captor, who could shift into the form of a cougar.
She still felt she was going crazy whenever she thought about that.
The aroma of coffee pulled her onto her feet and she meandered around the couch to the machine, found a mug and helped herself.
She lifted the mug to her lips, blew and braved a sip, and wanted to moan. Strong and dark, just the way she liked it.
Her eyes settled on the man where he stood near the deck, talking to another one who resembled him a little, but he was shorter by a good inch and slimmer too, and where her captor’s hair was sandy, his was jet black and hung in waves around his nape. Where her captor liked tight black jeans and t-shirts fit for a biker, the other man wore practical clothing of a shirt that hugged his body and dark brown trekking trousers, and hiking boots.
The similarity of their square jaws, straight regal noses and the cut of their mouth, and the intense grey of their eyes said they were related though.
Another brother?
The black-haired man smiled as he watched the blonde woman, the scar over the left side of his lips tugging at them. “She grew up fine.”
“More than fine,” her captor rumbled and slapped a hand down on his shoulder, fingers creasing the man’s dark blue shirt. “Flint, she’s a work of art.”
Flint. Rath. She knew two of their names but not his.
Her heart supplied that word, and she wanted to grin, because if he got to give her a nickname, then she got to give him one too.
Pig lived up to his name by running his eyes over the woman’s fall of blonde hair, the deep brown sweater that hugged her curves, to the practical black trousers that moulded to her ass and long legs.
He tossed Flint a salacious grin. “I’d tap that.”
Flint chuckled. “You’d tap anything with a pulse.”
Except a human, her mind whispered. No humans apparently.
His grin widened and he swept a hand down himself. “It’s not my fault I was born looking like this. They practically hurl themselves at me and beg me. It’s a crying shame we can’t take part.”
Flint sighed in agreement.
Take part in what?
That almost overshadowed what he had said about how he could have his pick of women.
Well, he couldn’t have her, so he was wrong about that. He might have been born good looking, but from where she was standing, it had corrupted him, warped him into just another man who thought their looks would get them anywhere they wanted to go.
He was just like Alexander in that respect.
God, she could imagine how the brute would react if she told him that.
It was almost tempting.