Thursday, June 30, 2016

EXCERPT BLITZ: A Fine Mess (Over The Top #2) by Kelly Siskind



Title: A Fine Mess
Author: Kelly Siskind
Series: Over The Top, #2
On Sale: August 2, 2016
Publisher: Forever
Format: eBook
Price: $3.99 USD




Some guys should come with a warning label…

Sawyer West is Mr. One-Night Stand. He doesn't do relationships or promises or feelings. He's never cared enough to get involved. Until Lily Roberts. She's sweet and shy and sexy as sin, and resisting her is testing his self-control. She believes Sawyer can be a better man, and for the first time in his life, he wants to be. But change isn't easy, and Sawyer would do anything to protect Lily from his past self. Even break his own heart…

PREORDER THE BOOK HERE




EXCERPT 

Sawyer steps close and waits for me to make eye contact. Slowly, I lift my gaze to his gold-flecked brown eyes, but I can’t find my voice. It’s like I don’t know how to talk to him anymore.

He grins. “Hi.”

From my angle it’s easy to see the scar running down his neck, the remnant of a fall he took through a coffee table while wrestling with his brother. I’ve always wanted to touch it, feel the puckered skin under my fingers. I drop my gaze, but it doesn’t help. The cuffs of his gray button-down are rolled to his elbows, roped muscle exposed below. Something else I’d like to touch.

I blink hard. “Hi,” I say to my feet.

“Look at me, Lil.” I rock on my heels, then do as asked. He raises an eyebrow. “How fucking weird is this?”

My giggle surprises me, and I loosen my grip on my wineglass. “Totally weird.”

Thank God for Sawyer’s candid nature.

He sips his drink, probably Scotch, and a sheen of liquid clings to his bottom lip.

Touch that arm. Kiss that scar. Taste those lips. None of these urges are new, but they’re heightened. Magnified. He watches me watching him, his gaze as probing as mine. What is he thinking?

Then the music changes.

A remix of Madonna’s “Holiday” plays, and Sawyer does Sawyer. He tips his head to the right, his shoulders following, then he pushes out his hip and rolls his torso through. The guy does body waves, alternating from side to side, like he’s in an eighties music video.

People stop. People look. People laugh.

I snort, an unattractive sound I make when my laughter takes over. Sawyer says it sounds like a hyena with sleep apnea. When I snort a second time, he dances harder, and I crack up. My belly aches as he gets into it, the entire room watching now.

I suck in a breath, place my empty glass on the table behind me, then clasp his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

He stops dancing. “Making things less weird.”

“Less? What about you channeling Paula Abdul is less weird?”

“Did you laugh?”

I grin.

Then he says, “I’m sorry.”

The music vibrates in my chest, or maybe it’s his proximity. “Sorry about what?”

“Last week, when you called, I was a dick. You caught me by surprise, and I didn’t handle it well. So, I’m sorry.”

His admission pumps through my core like helium, my body nearly weightless. The confession shouldn’t be surprising, not with how he speaks his mind, but it’s been a week of silence. I was losing hope things could return to the way they were, or progress past it. I step closer, so he can hear me over the noise. “Apology accepted, but do I get an explanation?”

He drags his gaze down my body. It’s a thorough perusal—intimate, penetrating—flames sparking along my skin. His eyes linger on me, but he doesn’t speak. He rolls the pinky ring on his left hand the way he does when he’s puzzling something out. An ache travels up my thighs, heat expanding below my ribs. The longer he stays quiet, the more my skin tingles.

Finally, he releases his ring and slides his hand over my lower back. He leans forward and whispers, “I’ve wanted to do very dirty things to you and with you since Aspen, but I care about you too much to act on it. Hence my dickishness and the weirdness.”



THE OVER THE TOP SERIES



My Perfect Mistake, #1
A Fine Mess, #2





A small-town girl at heart, Kelly moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in Northern Ontario. When she's not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head.

She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings-Gummy Bears heal all. She's also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.

Website   Facebook    Twitter    Goodreads


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BLOG TOUR & GIVEAWAY: The Prince's Bride (Modern Fairytales #2) by Diane Alberts

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The Prince’s Bride

by Diane Alberts Modern Fairytales, #2 
Publication Date: June 20, 2016 
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Indulgence, Contemporary Romance



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Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | B&N | Kobo | iBooks


His Cinderella isn’t looking for a fairy tale…

Alicia Forkes went to a trendy club looking for a way to forget her troubles, and she found that in the arms of the gorgeous man who swept her off of her feet…and into one of the hottest encounters she’d ever had in her life. Awesome sex with a stranger is now something she can check off her bucket list. Except he isn’t exactly a stranger. He’s the guy who broke her heart when they were teens, an experience she doesn’t plan on repeating. 

Prince Leo can’t believe he’s finally found the woman he’s loved for years, and she wants nothing to do with him. When she shows up at his office, she looks anything but princess-like. In fact, she’s cursing him to hell and back. She may not be Cinderella, but he’s determined to prove he’s the prince for her––even if it means letting her go. 

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DON'T MISS THE FIRST BOOK IN THE MODERN FAIRYTALES SERIES...


Beauty and the Boss #1 Cover


Beauty and the Boss

by Diane Alberts Modern Fairytales, #1 
Publication Date: November 13, 2015 
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Indulgence, Contemporary Romance

Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | B&N | Kobo | iBooks


Beauty is about to tame her beast... 

Researcher Maggie Donovan has no luck with men, and it doesn't help that she can't keep her eyes off of her sexy boss - the one everyone else in the office calls The Beast. Relationships in the office are forbidden. So no one is more surprised than Maggie when she pretends to be his fiancée to save him during a difficult situation. Not only has she put her job on the line, but the future of the company. 

Billionaire Benjamin Gale III doesn't believe in love or romance, but the look on his mother's face when Maggie tells her that she's his fiancée is worth millions. Instead of firing her for her insubordination, he goes along with the ruse. In his arms-and in his bed-she'd be everything he could ever want…which is why he can't have her. But if he doesn't let her go, they'll lose everything…


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Diane Alberts
Diane Alberts is a USA TODAY bestselling Contemporary Romance author with Entangled Publishing. Under the name Jen McLaughlin, she also writes New York Times, USA TODAY, and Wall Street Journal bestselling books with Penguin RandomHouse. She was mentioned in Forbes alongside E. L. James as one of the breakout independent authors to dominate the bestselling lists. 

Diane is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency. Diane has always been a dreamer with a vivid imagination, but it wasn’t until 2011 that she put her pen where her brain was, and became a published author. Since receiving her first contract offer, she has yet to stop writing. Though she lives in the mountains, she really wishes she was surrounded by a hot, sunny beach with crystal clear water. She lives in Northeast Pennsylvania with her four kids, a husband, a schnauzer mutt, and three cats. Her goal is to write so many fantastic stories that even a non-romance reader will know her name.




GIVEAWAY


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Wednesday, June 29, 2016

COVER REVEAL & EXCERPT: Hard Luck by Liv Morris


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From USA Today Bestselling author Liv Morris comes a sexy standalone romcom where cocky chases sassy around the bases.


Hard Luck releases on July 10th!  
Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/28OpxXf


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Blurb
Meet Brady Luck...


Slugger. Hot shot. MVP.
I’ve been called it all.
I was the real deal, baby.
The diamond was my battlefield.
Women were the victory celebration.
My "Lucky" streak was a given.
On and off the field.


Then I slept with the wrong woman,
And she cursed me.
Literally.
Turned my game upside-down,
In the ballpark...and bedroom.
Now my team is paying the price.


My last hope is Cali Jones,
A smart and sexy physician assistant.
Her Midas touch may fix my swing,
Repair my equipment.
But will it be enough to cure my hard luck?


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EXCERPT

“Would it scare you if I said I was kidnapping you?” I grip the door of the cab and glanced up at the driver. He has an amused smile on his face. I'm sure he knows who shares the backseat with me. Brady is the golden boy of this city. He owns the title with every home run he hits, both on and off the baseball field. Plus, his good looks are hard to forget. God knows I’ve tried.

Two weeks ago, if I had this same conversation with Brady, I would've been demanding him to take me back to his lair for a lap or two around the bases, but I met him while wearing scrubs and examining his fine body with latex-gloved hands. I can’t remove my professional hat no matter how bad he makes me want to remove my clothes.

“You owe me an explanation,” I say, choosing to ignore the kidnap comment altogether. It plays straight into a dirty fantasy of being at his mercy and the last thing I need is more fantasies.

“I’m taking you to my coach’s apartment a few blocks from here,” he replies, his tone nonchalant, like kidnapping a woman is normal.

“Does he need medical help too?” I ask, my confusion clear in my tone. Why would he take me to his coach’s place?

“Are you kidding?” Brady appears stunned by my question. I answer him with a shake of my head. “He wants to talk to you about me.”

“Your coach knows me? What’s really going on here? You’ve shown up everywhere I’ve been like you’re stalking me.” Brady shifts his eyes away from me and lowers his head. “Wait! You have been, haven’t you?” I demand.

“Maybe. But I have a very good reason.” He looks up with his crystal blue eyes. They twinkle at me even through the dim streetlights, as I lose myself within them.

I have stupid girl thoughts that he’s fallen madly in love with me during our brief encounters, especially the one in the exam room. I glance down at his crotch in memory and swallow at the thought of all those inches, even if he would be next to impossible to fit into my mouth.

“I’m waiting for a good answer.” I lock my eyes on his perfect face with lips I want to kiss. Why does he have to be so hot?

“It’s complicated,” he says while running his long fingers through his glorious, thick hair.

How many times have I dreamt of having his head between my legs since he joined the team? I’ve lost count. I close my eyes. I am in deep shit here.

“It’s complicated on my end, too,” I reply back to his non-answer response, which frustrates the hell out of me. Sane people don’t kidnap people without an explanation. Then again sane people don’t kidnap people at all. Maybe the pressure of bringing home a trophy to Chicago’s rabid fans made him snap. “You’re my patient and I can’t cross the personal line with you.” No matter how hard I want to.

“I’ve severed all ties with your office. I’m no longer a patient at your practice.”

“Right? You’re cured now.” I peek down at the general area where his former issue was and then back up at his eyes.

“Let’s say I know who can cure my problem.”

“Who?” My voice is as quiet as a whisper, but from the intense look in his eyes, I know he heard me. I brace myself for his answer.

“You.”

“Well, shit!”




About the Author:
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USA Today bestselling author, Liv Morris, was raised in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. She now resides on the rock known as St. Croix, USVI with her first and hopefully last husband. After relocating twelve times during his corporate career, she qualifies as a professional mover. Learning to bloom where she's planted, Liv brings her moving and life experience to her writing.


EXCERPT REVEAL: The Matchmaker's Replacement (Wingman Inc #2) by Rachel Van Dyken

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Wingman rule number two: never reveal how much you want them. 

Lex hates Gabi. Gabi hates Lex. But, hey, at least the hate is mutual, right? All Lex has to do is survive the next few weeks training Gabi in all the ways of Wingmen Inc. and then he can be done with her. But now that they have to work together, the sexual tension and fighting is off the charts. He isn’t sure if he wants to strangle her or throw her against the nearest sturdy table and have his way with her. 

But Gabi has a secret, something she’s keeping from not just her best friend but her nemesis too. Lines are blurred as Lex becomes less the villain she’s always painted him to be…and starts turning into something more. Gabi has always hated the way she’s been just a little bit attracted to him—no computer-science major should have that nice of a body or look that good in glasses—but “Lex Luthor” is an evil womanizer. He’s dangerous. Gabi should stay far, far away. Then again, she’s always wanted a little danger.

Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU


EXCERPT


I hated him.

HATED him.

Hate, hate, hate. I chanted the words to myself that very next morning as I stomped toward his ridiculously expensive house, next to the ridiculously nice lake, with his ridiculously loud red Mercedes parked out front. Jackass.

I’d be doing society a favor if I set it on fire.

Seriously.

The thing was probably filled with so much bodily fluid and disease that if he got in a car accident he’d infect the entire freeway and start a citywide epidemic.

I shuddered.

I compartmentalized Lex into two boxes.

The first box was Childhood Lex, the friend who used to hang out with Ian and me before he moved across town, never to be seen again. He used to ride with me to school, and when I was sick he gave me my own box of Kleenex—never mind that he stole it from his teacher’s desk. The point is, Childhood Lex was a keeper.

Box number two?

Asshole Lex, also known as the version I was walking toward. The Lex I met when I was eighteen, who momentarily stunned me speechless with his godlike beauty, had been a figment of my overactive, sad, hormone-riddled imagination.

On the outside? The perfect man.

With a brooding and sultry smile.

Biceps the size of my head.

Who gave me the distinct feeling that if I ran my hands over his buzzed hair I’d orgasm before he even touched me.

Whatever. I was over it. So over it.

A lot of people had stupid crushes when they were eighteen, right?

Now all I saw when I looked into his stormy blue eyes was syph or the clap, and that was being generous. The dude was a walking STD and seriously tried every nerve I had. He was an ass. Plain and simple, no sugar coating. He was the type of guy who’d tell a chick that she looked fat in a dress or who refused to share the communal breadbasket. See! He couldn’t even adhere to typical manners during mealtime! Just thinking about him had me tied up in knots.

Last year, when I went shopping and stupidly invited Ian along—which of course meant Lex had to come—I was told in no uncertain terms that if I would just stop drinking chocolate milk in the morning I’d be able to fit into a smaller size.

He’d smiled.

His dimples had deepened.

He’d even crossed his arms as if to say, Look, I did you a favor, pat me on the back.

Instead I had kicked him in the balls and tried to give him a black eye, clocking Ian in the face.

My point? Lex. Was. The. Devil.

I made a point of only hanging out with Lex when absolutely necessary, and even then I almost always had Ian as a buffer. But now that he was playing love nest with my ex-roomie, Blake? Well, I was on my own.

Lex opened the door after my third aggressive knock. Black sweatpants hung  low on his hips, a vintage Mariners shirt fell open around his neck, and he was wearing black-framed glasses that made his eyes more appealing than should be legal.

“Sunshine,” he said, his smirk deepening as he crossed his burly arms over his chest.

“Dickhead.” I smiled sweetly. “New glasses? They look thicker than last time.”

“Better to see you with.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “There they are.” He reached for one of my boobs.

I slapped his hand away so hard my palm stung.

“Probably not the best way to treat your new male clients.” He shook his hand and  turned towards the living room leaving the door wide open. Manners were completely lost on him.

Gritting my teeth, I slammed the door behind me and took off my shoes because I knew if I didn’t he’d give me hell.

He was a freak like that.

For as much ass as he got, it was shocking how much Lysol he used around the house. His clothes were never wrinkled; everything was pristine.

Even his breath.

Damn him.

He drank coffee like a Starbucks employee but never had coffee breath.

It was almost painful, staring him in the face, knowing that everything on the outside appeared perfect—but didn’t match the inside at all, not even close!

Beauty like Lex’s was dangerous and wickedly tempting, like something out of a paranormal romance novel. Sometimes, at night, when I dreamed of Lex getting hit by a car, I imagined him as a vampire roaming the streets in his favorite black sweats, shirtless, shimmering under the streetlights, just waiting for whores to line up so he could take a few bites.

A pencil flew by my head.

“Yo.” Lex’s eyebrows shot up. “We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to get you ready for the next two clients. Daydream about chicks on your own time.”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

He bit on his bottom lip, sinking back in his chair  as his eyes slowly roamed from my mismatched socks all the way up to my head. “Okay, whatever you say, Gabs.”

I will not commit homicide. I will not commit homicide. “You know,” I said as I tossed my purse onto the table, “it’s offensive that you assume all lesbians dress like crap.” So what? I was wearing a ratty white T-shirt and ripped jeans, and I was pretty sure I still had mascara on from the night before. It was my Lex repellant. He hated sloppiness.

“Offensive.” He nodded. “Also true . . .” He used the spare pencil from behind his ear to slide my purse over to the farthest side of the table. “It wouldn’t kill you to wear something other than jeans and T-shirts, Gabs.” He sighed. “Say it with me: dresssss—”

I grabbed the pencil from his hand, broke it into two pieces, and handed them back to him. “I wear dresses, just not for you. Dresses are your kryptonite, especially short black ones. I refuse to be a part of your ‘shower time.’”

He snorted. “You wish.”

“Yes. Every night when I go to sleep I pray for Lex to dream of me while he jerks off because yet another girl refused to follow his instructions in bed : ‘Damn it, use the manual!’” I said, using my best imitation of Lex’s voice. I’d only heard him shout instructions to a girl once, and it had scarred me for life. What the hell are you doing? Do I look like I’m satisfied? There’s a diagram! Ugh.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Very funny, and the manual is there for a reason. Do you even know how many chicks get confused when I call out sexual positions? It’s like, get there faster, you know?”

My feelings were torn between fascination and disgust. “So,” I changed the subject. “Let’s train, because I have about ten years worth of Organic Chem homework.”

Lex sighed and held out his hand.

“No.” I crossed my arms. “I don’t need help.”

Okay, I needed help, desperately needed help, and Lex wasn’t just passably smart but a certified genius, at least when he applied himself. I refused to ask him to go over my homework just because Organic Chem was, to me, like reading a foreign language.

He cleared his throat.

I didn’t move.

Finally, he stood, slowly walked over to the end of the table, and fished the chem book from my oversized purse. “What chapter?”

“Lex—”

“If I’m teaching you Organic Chem, at least say Professor Lex.”

“Listen very closely, Lex.” I went over and jerked my book out of his hands. “I didn’t need your help last year when I almost failed biology, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now. Let’s just get this training done so I can go home and suffer in silence, alright?”

“Fine.” He dropped my book against the table and then, without warning, grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me against the counter that bordered the kitchen. My butt hit the cupboard . “Up until now we’ve been helping people find their perfect match. Basically acting like a wingman so that the idiots of this world see the girl who’s been standing in front of them all along .”

Why was he standing so close? Did we have to be touching? I told my body not to respond to his proximity, but Lex was magnetic, even if every part of him was evil. My brain was having trouble functioning while his large palms were pressed into the tops of my shoulders.

“Okay.” I swallowed. “And now that you’re allowing guys to become clients of Wingmen Inc., I basically do the same thing. Give them confidence, help them capture the one girl who’s always seen them as the friend—or worse, who they’ve been invisible to.”

“What’s that like, I wonder?” Lex still didn’t release me. “Being invisible . . . Maybe next time a dude ignores you, take notes.”

And another insult.

“Lex.” I huffed out a breath. “Just get on with it.”

“Right.” His eyes momentarily locked on mine before he rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses were perched. It was not sexy. It wasn’t. Really. That. Sexy. “So whenever we take on a new client, we give them a list of questions, meet them in a public place, and then use the power of human emotions like jealousy and curiosity to get the other person interested. That’s where you come in. If another girl sees our client as desirable, he becomes desirable.”

“That easy?”

“Sort of.” Lex leaned forward. “But you can’t suck.”

“Suck?”

“At anything.” His lips hovered near my mouth. He was starting to freak me out. I wanted to run away, but I was pinned.

“Lex, if you kiss me I will bite your tongue off. I swear.”

“If I was actually kissing you”—Lex released one of my shoulders and placed a finger against my mouth—“you’d know it. This, my frumpy friend, is training.”

His lips descended.

They pressed against mine, then pulled back. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Gabs, you’re going to need to open your mouth a bit more. Guys are stupid. They always assume that more tongue means better kissing, when the opposite is true, but you still need to have your lips parted, not locked down like Fort Knox.”

“What’s happening?” I tried to push away from him.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Gabs, believe me, this is all business. You can even keep your hand on my junk the whole time.”

“What!” I roared.

“So you know without a doubt that nothing about you turns me on.” He grinned menacingly. “Seriously, I don’t mind.”

“I do!”

“Hey!” He chuckled. “I was just trying to help.”

“Grabbing your penis is not the answer, Lex!”

“Weird, because it so often is.”

“I hate today.”

“Is it the rain?” He frowned.

“It’s not—”

“It is.”

“Stop that!” I shoved him. “Hurry up and grade my kissing skills so I can go home and study.”

“Kissing, hand holding, hugging, cuddling, laughing, winking—just a few things you need to master.” He was firing off so many horrible, body-numbing words.

“Just hurry up,” I grumbled in a defeated voice as I tried to block out the fact that he was a good-looking ass who offended me with every single breath he took.

“Ah . . .” Lex held up his hand. “One never hurries a kiss.”

“What about a passionate kiss?”

“A passionate kiss isn’t hurried, it’s frenzied. Damn, don’t you know anything?”

Heat swamped my cheeks.

“How many guys have you kissed, Gabs?”

“Plenty!” Five. I’d kissed five.

“You blush down your neck when you lie.” Lex cupped my chin and then brought his lips down against mine again. “Part.”

Sighing against his mouth, I relaxed my lips while his slid across.

He pulled back, wearing a frown of irritation. “A bit more, Gabs. Guys want access.”

I kept my eyes open.

So did he.

I didn’t want him assuming I was into it, which was probably his exact line of thinking. Only keeping my eyes open was an entirely raw experience, watching him watch me while I felt him.

I shivered.

“Cold?” That stupid smirk was back.

“Frigid.” I glared, putting myself down before he had a chance to.

“You read my mind.” He nodded seriously. “Now stop being a bitch, and let me teach you how to kiss.”

“I know how to kiss!” I don’t know what came over me—maybe it was the need to prove myself, or possibly it was just stress over the entire situation. Needing to stay in school and hating that he was the answer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped, my hips colliding with his as I mauled his mouth with as much passion as I could conjure up, this time closing my eyes and putting everything I had into it.

With a growl, Lex pushed me back against the countertop. As my butt collided with the edge, his tongue plunged into my mouth and his hands dug into my hair, pulling it free from its ponytail while he changed positions  his lips demanding a punishing kiss from a different angle as his he gave my hair a harder tug back.

I grasped at his T-shirt, pulling him closer and nearly falling backward into the sink.

And then, just when I was in danger of losing myself to the kiss that would probably be the best kiss of my life, I bit down on his bottom lip.

That move didn’t work out the way I’d planned, not at all. In my head it was smart. I’d piss him off, get him to pull back and leave me alone.

It did nothing of the sort.

Nothing of the sort at all.


With a hiss he pulled back, fire blazing in his eyes. For a split second that seemed to go on for an eternity, he hovered and I waited, both of us on the edge of something. He wet his lips, I mimicked the movement, and then, like a snake, he struck. His mouth fused to mine in a punishing kiss, one that bruised my mouth while imprinting its essence on my soul.


  rachelborder

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866! 

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. 

Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com


Tuesday, June 28, 2016

COVER REVEAL: Briarcrest (Briarwood) Academy by Ilsa Madden-Mills

Re-Reveal! New Name! New covers!
Welcome to Briarwood Academy where love can be a little bad, a lot wicked, and sometimes twisted.
FOUR RED-HOT BOOKS about the BAD, WICKED and TWISTED characters of Briarwood Academy, featuring a dirty-talking gym owner, a football player, a sexy rock star, and a British bad boy.
ALL BOOKS ARE ON SALE and FREE ON Kindle Unlimited!


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Very Bad Things (Book One)
ONLY $0.99 (Standalone)



Blurb
Leaving behind her mansion and Jimmy Choos, Nora Blakely becomes a girl hell-bent on pushing the limits with alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex.


Then she meets her soulmate, but he doesn’t want her.


Sexy gym owner Leo Tate has one rule: never fall in love…until Nora shows up with her list of bad things. He resists the pull of their sizzling connection, hung up on their age difference.


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Very Wicked Beginnings
(Dovey and Cuba--prequel novella)
ONLY $0.99




Blurb
When wicked ballerina Dovey Beckham meets football star Cuba Hudson, she didn’t plan on having her heart shattered into a million pieces. He’s the bad boy with a dark past, and when he falls for Dovey, he knows she can’t be part of his future.


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Very Wicked Things
(Dovey and Cuba)
Amazon UK ONLY $0.99: http://amzn.to/28VMLsO


Blurb
Dovey Beckham is a ballerina from the wrong side of the tracks. Cuba "Hollywood" Hudson is a wealthy football player with fast cars and even faster girlfriends.


Their passion is electric, their connection deep, but once in a lifetime kind of love doesn't come easy, especially when dirty money, past sins, and old flames come calling.


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Very Twisted Things
(Standalone- Violet and Sebastian)
ONLY $0.99!




Blurb
Violet St. Johns is a talented violinist hiding out in a Hollywood mansion, struggling to forget the devastation of her parent’s sudden death.
Vital Rejects front man Sebastian Tate sees the elusive girl in the mansion next door playing her violin nude, and they begin an erotic game of spying.
When they finally come face-to-face, sparks fly and clothes comes off. But giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s.

About the Author
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Wall Street Journal best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.


She's addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, and Instagram.


She has a degree in English and a Master's in Education.


When she's not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.




Order of her books and Amazon page




Designer: Luminos Graphic House
Photography:Michael Stokes
Model: Leon Scott




Designer: Luminos Graphic House
Photography: Michael Stokes
Model: Attila Toth


Designer: Luminos Graphic House
Photography: Michael Stokes
Model: Mike Thurstson

The British are HERE!  
DIRTY ENGLISH


Are you ready for Filthy English?
Add to your TBR for a July 11th release here: http://bit.ly/28MpTlk



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