I am not really the new years resolution type of person. I don’t know if it’s my scorpion nature or just my impulse control issues but I generally just live life as it comes at me. With the love and support of my amazing husband and our awesome kids.
And normally I don’t put my personal stuff out there because really who cares? Everyone has their own things going on and there’s nothing that's super special about mine that anyone would find massively intriguing but this year I thought I would start with a little about me.
Partially because I am hoping to have a little time to give my blog a makeover this month, maybe. And as I explain you will see why this is huge but also a maybe.
But first I should explain I really enjoy blogging most of the time and I really do just do it for me. It took me until I got an amazing teacher when I was 8 who didn’t just teach me to read, she taught me to love it. So to say I have always been a reader is an understatement. When I was younger I read horror and crime but as I got older and life got real with bills and responsibilities and other such real life horrors, I started leaning more towards romance.
And since I generally can sit and read a book a day I discovered that my old second hand book shop sold boxes of old Mills and Boons for $2 so then I really got even further into romance as that was about all that fit in our budget back then. But then life took over and I stopped reading for a while, with 4 kids under 5 and our youngest being autistic and having our own business I just never had the time or energy.
But then several friends who knew hubby and I well, basically made me read 50 Shades of Grey and BAM book obsession hit overdrive. I found GoodReads, I made some amazing book friends and I found people I could talk to about books and I discovered this whole new world. And I dove into it hard, as is my obsessive personality, and to be fair hubby pushed me into it just as hard because I was so passionate about it all and he got a break from me trying to talk about books to him. P.S. hubby is a huge jock and the only thing he reads is ….. Ok so hubby doesn’t read shit except the few absolute smut books I forced down his throat, two of which he actually reviewed. I will add the link to the bottom for you so you can see how truly awesome hubby is.
Anyway squirrels ran off tangent for a bit there so back to the blog getting a face lift and why finding the time for that is huge. We have 8 kids. And don’t worry that number sounds crazy to us too but here’s how that happened. We had 4 kids for 10+ years when daughter at 16 starts nudging very unsubtly for us to have another. To which hubby and I respond with outright horror as we are already counting down to being childless and being able to have naked fun time without having to be quiet and lock doors and sneak around like thieves without the eww gross and disturbances and such.
So daughter decides we will foster. Fast forward a year and oops I wasn’t just tired and run down from a 9 week emergency respite I went away to do, turns out on one of those few times hubby and I connected over that time baby number 5 was conceived. Then we took on 2 little boys with behaviour issues and PTSD and GDD and possibly ASD, FASD, ADHD and various other alphabet soup issues for a 2 week respite and a newborn baby for a month and here we are 17 months later and everyone is still here.
So spare time is kind of a joke and for a while there my blog was completely neglected and I did plan to just give it up. But hubby talked me out of it and we all settled into our new normal and the babies got a little older and the boys behaviour issues got a little better or we got a little better at managing them and I slowly got back into it.
So here I am back again. I would kill to have someone or a few someone's work on this with me but for now it’s just me. And some days I miss posting something I signed up for because we have a bad day and I literally can’t find 30 minutes to get it on before I fall into bed with my eyes already closed. And after I beat myself up about letting people down I build a bridge and get on with it because sometimes we have to prioritise and family will always be first to tenth.
But come the end of this month and son number two has a basketball competition on the other side of the country for 5 days and hubby has insisted I go and have a break from our crazy and now the idea has become an actual plan damn am I looking forward to it. In my head my bags are packed and my blog is half designed. In reality I am there to support my amazingly talented son and I have several friends going to support their children who will be expecting me to be social so as to how much time I will have to actually build my blog I don’t know. And before you think son is being neglected I am going as a spectator and he is going with the team.
I don’t think people understand how excited I am for alone time. The only thing better would be alone time with just hubby. Because as much as I love all our kids damn it would be nice to use a toilet or have a shower with actual hot water without there being an 18 month old knocking on the door or a 9 month old screaming just because she can make that sound now or a 6 year old hitting a 5 year old for his turn on the ipad or a 12 year old looking for mum to ask if he can buy something on his fortnite game or a 13 year old wondering if he can go to a movie or a 16 year old coming home with half a dozen mates to jump in the pool or a 17 year old racing around fixing all those problems but judging us when we get out because for some reason hubby followed me in because everyone was settled for that second between me leaving and him following and maybe we are a little co-dependent. So yeah I have wine and bath bombs and my laptop and headphones and kindle and chargers mentally packed and just maybe I might get some free time to rebuild my blog.
Then again maybe I will just wear my team shirt and cheer on a heap of basketball games then have a few drinks with some other parents and rinse repeat for 5 days. Guess we will see. But now you have a little insight into what the plan for my new year is. Hopefully yours is awesome and safe and filled with loads of great books. And please don’t hesitate to recommend those great books to me because I am sure about a quarter of my free time is spent trying to figure out what the hell I feel like reading now and freaking out that I am missing out on my reading time looking for a book to read.
And on that note miss 18 months is knocking on my door and her 9 month old sister is chanting bub bub bub next to her so I guess my time is up. Hopefully I find the time to actually post this before it’s irrelevant (happens more often than I like to admit).
So in the interest of complete honesty I feel like i should confess that although this made my TBR pile it probably would have been quite some time before i got around to reading it. You see I love sports romance but second chance is so hit and miss for me that I really have to be in the mood for it. But then someone told me this one introduced Alexei from Finding Alexei and I have been obsessing over that for ages so I figured I would read this first.
The positives are that it's a really well written, easy to read story. There's none of the normal hang ups or carry over drama from their first relationship. They just took responsibility for it not working and they both moved on like adults. Also during their separation they each lived their own lives without any unnecessary pining on either end.
There really aren't any negatives to the story except that I didn't really click with either character. I didn't dislike them I just didn't love them and since I was reading this to get to finding Alexei it was like eating my veges before dessert. And from the little that Alexei was actually in this I totally could have forgone reading this for now but oh well now I can start it without guilt or wondering.
THE WEIRD GIRLS
by Cecy Robson
Weird Girls, #0.5
Re-release Publication Date: December 28, 2018
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy, Romance, Standalone
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SYNOPSIS:
Celia Wird and her three sisters are just like other 20-something girls—with one tiny exception: they’re products of a backfired curse that has given each of them unique powers that make them, well, a little weird…
The Wird sisters are different from every race on earth—human and supernatural. When human society is no longer an option for them, they move in among the resident vampires, werebeasts, and witches of the Lake Tahoe region. Could this be the true home they’ve longed for? Um, not quite. After the sisters accidentally strip a witch of her powers in a bar brawl, they soon realize the mistake will cost them. Because to take on a witch means to take on her coven. And losing the battle isn’t an option.
THE WEIRD GIRLS EXCLUSIVE: CHAPTER ONE
The music pounded hard enough to shake Emme’s fuzzy navel, the umbrella in Shayna’s piña colada, Taran’s martini, and my Corona. I’d shoved pieces of cocktail napkin into my über sensitive ears the moment we sat. But I wasn’t going to complain about the eardrum-busting music or the crowd of young men sitting across from us ogling my sisters. We were there to celebrate.
Two years had passed since we’d left our native New Jersey. Two years of roaming the States as travelling nurses. Two years of searching for a place to settle down. We’d stumbled into the Lake Tahoe region when our agency transferred us to a local hospital on temporary assignment. We’d thought it would be fun to check out the area. We hadn’t expected to fall in love with the lush forests, the breathtaking mountains, or the mysticism of the lake. But we had, and collectively agreed to make it our home sweet home.
Shayna raised her girly drink; her blue eyes and grin sparkled despite the dimness in the booth. “To the Wird Girls finding an awesome place to live,” she hiccupped.
“To a thirty-year mortgage and a shitload of remodeling,” Taran muttered. She tried to complain, but couldn’t hide that siren grin that made males trip over their erections. She was happy to settle down, and she damn well knew it.
“To beautiful Lake Tahoe,” Emme added almost silently. She blushed when I glanced her way. I’d like to say she was just tipsy, but no. Emme blushed as easily as the wind blew fireflies. “W-well it is beautiful here, Celia.”
“I know, sweetie.” I tapped my bottle against her frou-frou drink. “Salud.”
I polished off my beer. It was my sixth round, still no buzz. Then again I could chug a keg. Alcohol had no effect on me. My lightweight sisters already slurred their words after three. In their defense, they didn’t have an inner beast with the metabolism of four linebackers to help them out. The waitress rushed over and slapped another Corona down before I could ask and hurried off. I snagged it before it tipped over. Ordinarily one might think of her as a diligent, fast, hardworking, go-getter―nah, she was just scared I’d eat her. Humans never knew what we were, yet they perceived we weren’t anything like them. They didn’t need the amplified senses of preternaturals to know we were different. Problem was, different didn’t appeal to most. And “weird” just plain terrified.
“Oh my goodness,” Emme said. “You didn’t even peek her way or anything.”
My sisters had definitely received the less-daunting side of our backfired curse. I pushed my long hair from my face and shrugged. After years of being feared, I was almost used to it. Almost. “I don’t think tigers have to necessarily look at their prey to scare them.”
Emme placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. The jarring club lights further lightened her fair skin and blond hair and bleached out most of her freckles. “It’s not you, Celia. It’s these silly humans who never want to give you a chance. You’re beautiful. And so is your inner golden tigress.”
Taran rolled her huge blue eyes. “Tigers are beautiful, Emme. But most people aren’t stupid enough to pet one.” She sipped her martini as she gave me the once-over. “Or piss one off.”
Or date one, I thought to myself, taking in the frat boys on spring break continuing to stare and whisper about my sisters.
“Adriana Lima is mine,” one said of Taran.
“I’ll take the blonde,” the other murmured.
“I’ll go with the cute brunette with the ponytail.”
“Hey, I called dibs on her first,” his friend complained.
There were four of them. Four of us. One of the guys fighting over Shayna had taken an interest in me. That is, until he looked at me. Really looked at me. He smiled, but his scent of anticipation and lust quickly evaporated, replaced by the aroma of fear. He’d seen beyond my green eyes, olive skin, and long wavy hair to spot the predator lurking within. He saw her ready to pounce, ready to shred, ready to kill. Beautiful or not, tigers had that effect on humans.
Taran shimmied out of the booth. An impressive feat in the tiny, curve-hugging yellow dress she wore. If the hem lay an inch shorter, she’d end up on the Internet. “Shit. I have to pee.”
Shayna grinned at Taran as she ambled out, her eyes alternating from sparkly to glassy. So not a good sign. “I think that’s an oxymoron, dude.” She threw in a giggle, just to further clarify she was snockered.
I shook my head. Emme smiled softly. “I’ll go with Taran.” Emme was only five feet tall, and just shy of a hundred pounds soaking wet and bloated. Taran, although only three inches taller, towered over her in those step ladders she affectionately referred to as “shoes.” Me? Nothing said comfy like jeans, Uggs, and a long-sleeved tee.
The minute they disappeared into the hall leading to the ladies room, one of the good ol’ frat boys approached Shayna, careful to avoid eye contact with me. “Hey, hot stuff. How about a dance?”
Shayna’s glee faded when she realized I’d be alone if she went to dance. I smiled as best I could without scaring her potential date for the evening. “It’s okay. I’ll just hang and wait for Emme. Go on,” I urged when she hesitated.
The guy snaked his arm around Shayna and led her onto the dance floor. Her sleek black ponytail whipped behind her as she shot me one more tentative glance. She watched me for a while. At first I thought she might return to hang with her spinster-in-the-making sister until the call of Beyoncé loosened the hesitant muscles of her slender frame. It didn’t take long for Shayna to move like the world’s happiness depended on her booty shakes. It did, however, take a hell of a long time for Emme and Taran to return from the bathroom. The waitress dropped my eighth beer down just as I spotted Emme’s hands waving madly amidst the crowd forming near the ladies’ room. “Celia! Ceeeeeelia!”
What the hell?
I slipped out of the booth and rushed toward the crowd. The throng of horny and drunken patrons parted as I stalked, my hips swinging like a predator staking out her turf. That’s right. Stay back. Scary female approaching.
As I reached Emme, a deep buzzing sound vibrated from the bathroom, followed by a high-pitched squeal, topped off by Taran’s oh-so colorful language. I half-groaned, half-growled. Crap. How much trouble can someone get into in the bathroom?
I froze. Apparently a lot.
A fiery redhead stomped out of the restroom smelling like burnt toast, sporting a spiky new hairdo most porcupines would envy. I swore under my breath. Taran must have struck her with a mini-bolt of lightning. Her tresses stood out like wires, and the singed tips smoked. And God only knew what Taran had done to the rest of her dress. Scorched pieces of fabric barely covered Red’s pricey and fricasseed bra.
Her crazed eyes scanned the crowd. “Who’s with the slutty brunette?”
Emme glanced my way before raising a cautious hand. “Sh-sh-she’s my sister.”
The redhead stormed to Emme and jabbed an irate finger in her face. “Your sister’s a bitch.”
Maybe. But Emme certainly wasn’t. I shoved my way between them. “Leave her alone, and get out of our way.” My raspy voice remained deceptively calm. Yet Red easily picked up on my underlying threat: Mess with her, mess with me.
Red’s finger slowly lowered and her jaw slackened. She stumbled back, tripping over her feet and shoving her way through the crowd and out the exit. The ladies in line quickly followed suit and gave us ample room to pass. Perhaps there was a nice fir tree they could use out back. Emme stayed close to my heels as I shoved opened the door to the bathroom, her meek little voice shaking. “Should I get Shayna?”
“No, I think―”
My first clue should have been that Taran’s swear words had stopped bouncing off the stark white tiles like ping-pong balls. My second? The waft of dry herbs that filtered into my nose and screamed a warning. Witch. Witch magic. Taran was going head-to-head with an official worship-the-earth-talisman-wearing-broom-humper extraordinaire.
Taran’s blue irises blanched to crystal from the gamut of power tingling around a sandy-haired witch’s aura. “Sandy” smiled though it lacked any hint of warmth, friendliness, or love. In fact, if she was going for, “I’ll skin you alive and use your flesh as bedroom slippers,” one might say she pulled it off.
“Silentio. Non vide,” Sandy muttered, all the while smiling and calling forth her bladder-releasing power.
Knowing Spanish helped me translate the Latin words. Silence and . . . don’t look?
Every muscle and tendon in my body tightened. She’d cast a spell to conceal any sound, any image from the club patrons. Jesus, what did she plan to do?
The aroma of crushed thyme thickened the air as her spell accelerated, coating my taste buds with a hint of her power. Yup, definitely not a good sign. My inner tigress circled restlessly, pawing at my ribcage with her claws, demanding out. “Taran,” I warned, “time to go home.”
Taran met the witch’s smile with one that sent Emme running, hopefully to get Shayna, the car, or both. The heavy door swung shut behind Emme. A loud click told me Sandy locked us in, and anyone who could possibly help us out. Sparks sizzled from the tips of Taran’s elegantly manicured hands as she gathered her magic. “No worries, Ceel. This will only take a minute.”
“Taran,” I warned again. My fangs protruded without my consent. Another sign proclaiming deep shittiness awaited.
The sparks magnified into mini bolts of lightning as Taran stretched out her fingers. A small funnel of wind gathered around Sandy, sending bits of abandoned toilet paper circling around her. The fluorescent lights hummed and flickered just before everything went black.
“Taran!”
I tackled Taran into the handicapped stall as the equivalent of a supernatural cherry bomb took out the wall instead of my sister. The hole, roughly the size of our new dining room table, gave a great view of the dance floor where Shayna continued to shake her tiny, yet obviously shimmy-able butt. The crowd of onlookers had returned to their drunken debauchery, swallowing poor Emme as she jumped up and down trying futilely to get Mini-Shakira’s attention. It might have been funny, had I not feared we were finally about to die that miserable death we’d spent a lifetime avoiding.
Taran rubbed her head. “Son of a bitch.”
A deep growl thundered in my chest. My tigress eyes replaced my own and locked on the witch’s feet. She casually walked across the checkered floor, her red stilettos clicking like the pendulum of a grandfather clock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
She reeled into the black stall where we lay. Time was up.
For her.
“Well, well―”
I kicked the door right in her face.
She flew backwards into the sink and smashed her head into the mirror. Sometimes, I couldn’t control my strength. Fear of dying in a public bathroom will do that to a gal. I hauled Taran up by her elbow while her latest fan seemed down for the count. The cracks in the mirror spiderwebbed from her bleeding skull. I secretly hoped that since it was technically her head that broke the mirror, the bad luck fell on her.
When Sandy lurched from the sink and a second, equally pissed-off version of herself appeared to block the door leading out, I knew I was very much mistaken. Taran’s head whipped back and forth between them. “It’s the same person,” I snarled. She smelled the same, looked the same, and also bled from her forehead the same way. The only difference was she’d divided her magic in two.
Taran gathered her power once more. “I’ll take the bitch at the door. You take the bitch at the sink.”
Sandy―both of them―surprised me by laughing. “Mures,” they both spat.
That one pretty much got lost in translation. I prowled toward her. My claws shot from my fingers like bullets from a chamber. She didn’t move. She didn’t gather her magic. She didn’t blink. She simply laughed. Either she’d hit her head a little too hard or she didn’t fear us. The latter scared the hell out of me. My beast remained sure we could take her. My human half knew something sinister lurked beneath, bubbling with a touch of dark and a spoonful of evil.
A transparent heaviness filled the air, reeking of garbage and festering meat. The ten plastic soap dispensers lining the wall of the mammoth counter exploded one by one, like a row of bottles being shot to bits. Paper towels fluttered in the air around us like birds. The pipes beneath us clanged and a toilet flushed for no reason.
I hated when my human side was right.
I heard the first squeak and the scratch of tiny clawed feet followed by a few more. A lot more. Taran heard it, too. In her panic, she blasted a bolt of lightning into her psycho witch, taking out the obviously evil tampon dispenser in the far wall. Chunks of cardboard and cotton pelted me in the hair and back, and still I heard the squeaks getting louder, getting closer, getting scurrier.
The Sandy Taran attempted to fight had somehow appeared on the sink next to her other half. She sat on the counter with her legs crossed, swinging them merrily as the result of her enchantment reached a creepy crescendo.
The large brass drain near the sinks began to stir. “Taran. We need to get out of here.”
“Damn it, Celia―”
I clutched her arm when the brass drain tipped and a pink whiskered nose poked through. Mures. . . . Rats.
ABOUT CECY ROBSON
Cecy Robson is an author of contemporary and new adult romance, young adult adventure, and award-winning urban fantasy. A double-nominated RITA® Finalist, Winner of the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, and published author of more than twenty titles, you can typically find Cecy on her laptop or stumbling blindly in search of caffeine.
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Every now and then I read a Tessa Bailey book and it just fucking does it for me. And honestly I can't even tell you why. I think it's the hero being all obsessive and possessive. Or maybe it's the heroine being all quirky and unique. Or the secondary characters being so well developed but not taking away from the story. Or maybe it's just everything all mixed together just right.
Whatever it is this book just worked. I loved Rory so much and Olive was so perfect for him. But in the interest of full disclosure there were a few things in this story that normally would piss me off but due to the circumstances they were completely understandable and made the story better.
So yeah I love Tessa Bailey. She writes the hottest dirty talkers and I can't get enough of them. Oh and just randomly the cover is perfect for the book and it doesn't hurt it's a pretty hot cover.
Today we are celebrating the release of ROOM MATE by Katie Ashley. This is a standalone, contemporary romance title that is available now to read for FREE in KindleUnlimited. Check out the blurb and links below.
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Blurb:
Growing up as the only girl and with two overbearing older brothers, I’m no stranger to being overprotected. Just as I finished up college and prepared to truly dip my toes into the adult world, my father was elected President of the United States, which added a whole new level of protection with the Secret Service team attached to me. Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly be more smothered, I began receiving threats, and my family decided it wasn’t enough to just have an agent living down the hall from me. Nope, I was to have one move in with me, and not just any agent, but Ty Frasier—my brother, Barrett’s best friend, and my brother, Ty’s, head agent. While most women would enjoy living with a sexy, buff Brit, having a roommate threw a wrench into all my plans. Especially when I began noticing Ty was so much more than a hot guy.
Excerpt
After we spent a considerable amount of time perusing the aisles of the Piggly Wiggly, Caroline was finally finished, and we made our way to the checkout. In true small town fashion, she struck up a conversation with the middle-aged cashier. While she appeared utterly charming, I probably came off as an ass because I kept looking around and narrowing my eyes at anyone who might look suspicious. Especially the male middle-aged cashier who seemed utterly enthralled by Caroline.
At the sight of us coming out the mechanized doors, Stuart began easing the SUV closer to our place on the curb. After popping the hatch, Caroline wheeled the cart over to the back of the SUV. Just as I was about to start helping her with the bags, I heard a shout behind me. “Hey! Come back here.”
Whirling around, I saw a man waving wildly at Caroline. “Fuck! Assailant!” Stuart shouted.
I shoved myself between the man and Caroline, shielding her from him. Grabbing her by the waist, I hoisted her up and threw her in the back of the SUV. “Omph!” she cried as her body bounced on the carpeting of the hatch. After slamming the door, I stepped back just as Stuart screeched away from the curb.
Now that I knew Caroline was safe, I turned my attention back to the man. Hurling myself at him, I took him down to the curb. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Stay down. I’m calling the police.”
“The police? But what did I do?”
“You’ve been harassing the President’s daughter.”
“I just came out to give her the coupons she forgot.”
“What?”
He nodded. “Look in my right hand.”
After rocking back on my knees, I grabbed his arm and pried the contents out of his hand. Once I unraveled it, I grimaced. “Son of a bitch.”
I had completely and utterly misread the situation. Speaking into my microphone, I said, “Stuart, it’s a false alarm.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he blared into my ear.
“No, I’m not.”
“We’re headed back.”
“Roger.”
I figured then it was past time for me to get off the man. I rose to my feet before reaching down to help him up. I brushed off his white shirt I had accidentally dirtied when I knocked him to the ground. Upon closer inspection, I saw the nametag on his shirt. “Sheldon, I’m terribly sorry for my actions.”
He narrowed his brown eyes at me. “I think it’s me who needs to be calling the police.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Reaching into my pocket, I fished out my badge. As I flashed it at him, I said, “Agent Fraser with the U.S. Secret Service.”
His eyes bulged before he gasped. “Wait, that was President Callahan’s daughter?”
“Yes, sir, it was. I hope you can understand that we take the safety of the president’s children very seriously, and upon first reflection, it appeared you might’ve been preparing to harm Ms. Callahan.”
“Oh, no. I would never want to do that. I voted for her dad. Never thought I’d vote for an Independent, but he won me over.”
“I’m happy to hear that, sir. I certainly hope this unfortunate incident won’t in anyway skew your views on him.”
He waved a hand dismissively at me. “No, no. I understand. More than that, I can’t wait to go home and tell my wife that Caroline Callahan came into my store today.”
For my sake, I hoped he left out the part where a Secret Service agent mowed him down because he thought Piggly Wiggly coupons were a weapon. Once the other agents found out about this, I was going to catch hell in the form of their constant ribbing. At least Stuart would be going down with me. He’d made the assumption to start with.
After Stuart drove up, he made quick work of putting the SUV in park and opening the hatch. I hopped off the curb and went over to the back. Caroline sat with her knees pulled against her chest. When she pursed her lips at me, I held up my hands. “I’m sorry. It was a false alarm.”
“That’s what Stuart said.”
“We can never be too careful.”
An amused look twinkled in her blue eyes. “Apparently not when we find grocery cashiers a threat to my safety.”
“He appeared to have a weapon in his hand, and he was shouting at you,” I argued.
“I believe the weapon turned out to be coupons.”
Man, she was really on my dick about this one. Shit. I should never think of Caroline on my dick in any form or fashion. It was just too wrong. “Yes, the weapon turned out to be your coupons.”
“Right.”
I extended my hand to her. “Come on and get out, so we can load the groceries up and get the hell out of here.”
After I helped Caroline slide out of the back, she started helping me load the bags. “Should I go inside and offer an autograph to smooth things over? This is the closest grocery store to the apartment, so I’d hate to not ever be able to come here again because you clothes-lined a guy.”
“I didn’t clothes-line him. I merely took him down as part of protocol.”
“I’d say you lost your calling in football, that’s for sure.”
Previous titles in the series
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About the Author
With a BA in English, a BS in Secondary English Education, and a Masters in Adolescent English Education, she spent eleven years teaching both middle and high school English, as well as a few adjunct college English classes. As of January 2013, she hung up her red pen and expo markers to become a full-time writer. Each and every day she counts her blessings to be able to do her dream job.
Although her roots are firmly planted in the red Georgia clay, she loves traveling the country and world to meet readers and hang out with fellow authors. When she’s not writing or chasing down her toddler, you might find her watching reruns of The Golden Girls, reading historical biographies, along with romance novels, or spending way too much time on Facebook.
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Obviously my stalking skills need some work because somehow Linda managed to publish this book without me obsessing over it for the 3 months leading up to it. And that almost feels like I received an unexpected gift. I opened up GoodReads one day and there it was.
So naturally I one clicked it but between kids and birthdays and Christmas it took me way too long to get to read it. I also was maybe a little unsure if I could handle it. Getting a whole book from the alternate POV is super hit and miss for me. And I loved my forbidden men so much and Mason's story was hard to hear from Reese's POV. So much could crush me here.
But big girl panties were securely pulled up and I remembered that Linda had never let me down and in I went. Only to try talk books to my hubby and strangers in the checkout line and the dog every time I got dragged away from my book.
Mason was just as amazing from his POV as he was from Reese's. And I think it helped that it's been so long since I read Price of a Kiss that I wasn't mentally comparing the storyline I was just remembering a first love.
The novellas at the end were an amazing touch and I am going to up my stalking game to get my grabby hands on The Revenge Plan because that teaser has me dying for more. And although I didn't think the forbidden men series needed it this book did complete the circle so beautifully I am glad I read it. But now I might have to try find time for a reread because remembering Tinker bell and Ten and Sarah and everyone else falling in love has made me want to re-experience it again.
Title: Remedy
Author: Kaylee Ryan
Genre: New Adult/Brother's Best Friend
Cover Design: Sommer Stein,
Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Release Date: January 15, 2019
Release Date: January 15, 2019
Blurb
It took one night with her to know she was my forever.
It took one minute for me to climb out of bed and drive away from her.
It’s taken me three years to confess that leaving her behind was the biggest mistake of my life.
I won’t stop until she knows what she means to me. I’ll convince her to listen to her heart.
It took one night for all of my dreams to come true.
It took one morning, waking up alone, for those same dreams to come crashing down around me.
It’s taken me three years to confess that night changed me forever.
It took one minute for me to climb out of bed and drive away from her.
It’s taken me three years to confess that leaving her behind was the biggest mistake of my life.
I won’t stop until she knows what she means to me. I’ll convince her to listen to her heart.
It took one night for all of my dreams to come true.
It took one morning, waking up alone, for those same dreams to come crashing down around me.
It’s taken me three years to confess that night changed me forever.
He says this time is different, but how do I open my heart
up to a man who’s already ripped it to shreds?
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Author Bio
Kaylee Ryan is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling
author. When she’s not spinning tales of happily ever after, she’s
reading or spending time with family. Born and raised an Ohio girl,
Kaylee resides in Cincinnati with her husband and their son.
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Title: Christmas in Kentbury
Author: Claudia Burgoa
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 12, 2018
Blurb
Knightly
If practice makes perfect, I should excel at pretending that Heath
Miller doesn’t affect me. That I’m immune to that wide jaw, taut body, and the
unique woodsy-aftershave-engine-oil scent that makes my ovaries explode.
Since before I could walk, he’s been my champion. My best friend. The
one problem I can’t solve. Why? If I tell him I love him, I’ll lose him and his
adorable daughter. Maybe the best Christmas gift I can give him—and myself—is
to turn in the keys to my B&B and put some distance between us.
Heath
I’ve made my share of mistakes. Lost my MIT scholarship, came home to
fix cars and romance Kentbury’s female tourists—until I wound up a single
father. For all eight years of Cassie’s life, Knightly’s been my anchor.
I’ve changed. Cassie’s the best part of me, and Knightly’s been there
every step of the way. But as Christmas lays its mantle of magic over Kentbury,
she drops a bomb—she’s following a dream to New York City. I’ve got one week to
do everything, say everything I’ve never dared. To convince my best friend to
be mine—ours—for all the holidays to come.
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Excerpt
Prologue
Heath
I hate
surprises almost as much as I hate Sunday brunch at my parents. My family and I
don’t get along. It’s a cliché, but we’re like water and oil. I became
everything they hate and I hate everything they represent. My parents are
judgmental. During my late teens and up until a few months ago, I fucked
around—a lot—in every sense.
Needless to
say, I lost my scholarship to MIT during my sophomore year. The dean called me
irresponsible. My parents wrote me off as a failure until I came back to
Kentbury to take over my uncle’s car repair shop after he died. I try to keep
myself out of trouble and off the town’s radar. I steer away from the women in
town. But I do have fun with the tourists who stay at the lodge. It’s simple.
They’re here for a week or a weekend. Then they’re gone for good.
“But I ran
out of luck,” I sigh and look down.
In the
bouncy chair lies Cassie, my one-month-old baby. The fuss of black hair is
covered by a pink hat. Her arms aloft as if dreaming of cuddling her mother. I
slide my pinky into her open hand and watch as her fingers curl around it. I
feel her soft breath on the back of my hand. Already the tension is melting
away as I watch my sweet little girl sleep in peace. She’s so innocent, she
doesn’t know that our lives have been forever changed again.
“Maybe I
just got lucky,” I whisper close to her ear. “You and I are going to make it
work. I’ll make your proud little one.”
There’s a
slight knock on the door. I kiss her tiny hand before I open it for Knightly.
“That must
be, Knightly, coming to save the day,” I whisper to Cassie and kiss her tiny
hand.
There’s so
much I could tell her about my best friend, but not enough time. I only tell
Cassie what’s important, “She’s going to become your favorite person. We call
her Lee for short.”
When I
swing the door open, I finally relax. Lee’s here.
Her big
brown eyes narrow locking her gaze at me. “I need a big explanation,” she says
handing me the shopping bags she carries with her.
“Hello,
Lee,” I greet her and stare at all the bags she brought as she unzips her blue
parka.
“I got
everything that you asked for,” she says. Bishop is bringing the big items.
What do you need that for?”
Her voice
is neutral, but I know her well. She’s easy to read. The expression on her face
matches her mood. I know when she’s excited about something. I can tell when
she’s tired or cranky. Or, like right now, when she’s upset that I’m keeping
her in the dark. As she takes off all her winter gear and sets her snow boots
on the plastic tray, I close the door avoiding the sight of her body.
I like to
think of Lee Harris as my best friend. One of the boys. She’s the kid who I
hung out with since she could walk. I endless practice not noticing her sweet
curves or the way her long, dark, curly hair cascades over her shoulders once
she takes off her hat. I’m a shitty person and can’t do relationships. I’d
never do anything to jeopardize my relationship with Lee. Ever.
I tilt my
head toward the living room. “Follow me.”
“Oh my God,
did Santa bring me a baby?” She claps once and takes out the tube of hand
sanitizer that she always carries around.
Without
asking, she snaps the belt of the bouncy chair open and takes her into her
arms.
“Hey,
beautiful, welcome to Kentbury. You’re going to love this place.”
Cassie snuggles
closer to Lee who looks beautiful holding my baby. I swallow hard and remind
myself that she’s a friend who deserves a lot more than a guy who sucks at
life.
“You’re not
going to ask anything?”
“The mom
came to the lodge earlier, asking for you.” She sweeps my body with her gaze.
“Tall, dark hair, light blue eyes and was friends with the Lodge’s owner.”
Lee rolls
her eyes and sighs.
“You and
Kingston need to stop sleeping around or…” Lee touches her mouth lightly with
the tips of her fingers. “Oops, it happened.”
“You
could’ve warned me.” I grit my teeth.
“I
could’ve.” She shrugs. “Maybe next time.”
I glare at
her. She’s not funny but I don’t have the energy to deal with her banter.
Though, maybe she doesn’t have much energy either because she’s not as witty as
usual.
“How are
you handling the news?” She asks with a serious tone, though her gaze remains
on Cassie.
“I’m
dealing, I guess,” I close my eyes briefly taking a deep breath. “Can you
picture me as a father?”
I gesture
to myself, showing her the hot mess that I am. Then, point to the
apartment I live in which is above the car shop.
“I’m a
fucked-up guy who can’t finish anything. I can’t even get along with my
parents. What am I supposed to do with a baby?”
“Love her,”
she answers.
“You should
give yourself some credit, Heath. She has the best dad in the world, and you
two have me and my family.”
I smile at
her and say the obvious, “I can always count on you.”
Lee studies
Cassie. She smiles at her, but her face looks a little saddened. Her brown eyes
are slightly red and watery. Was she crying? I’m sure it’s nothing. Later, when
I’m not busy with my baby I’ll ask her what’s wrong. In the meantime, I have to
learn how to be a dad.
Maybe I can
find a book on how to be a father online. It worked with the car shop, and so
far, I’ve managed it well enough.
Author Bio
Claudia is an award-winning, international bestselling
author. She lives in Colorado, working for a small IT. She has three children
and manages a chaotic household of three confused dogs, and a wonderful husband
who shares her love of all things geek. To survive she works continually to
find purpose for the voices flitting through her head, plus she consumes high
quantities of chocolate to keep the last threads of sanity intact.
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