Bestselling authors Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy return with their first Male / Male romance in 3 years.
LobsterShorts, 21
Jock. Secretly a science geek. Hot AF.
LobsterShorts: So. Here goes. For her birthday, my girlfriend wants…a threesome.
SinnerThree: Then you’ve come to the right hookup app.
LobsterShorts: Have you done this sort of thing before? With another guy?
SinnerThree: All the time. I'm an equal opportunity player. You?
LobsterShorts: [crickets!]
SinnerThree, 21
Finance major. Secretly a male dancer. Hot AF.
SinnerThree: Well, I’m down if you are. My life is kind of a mess right now. School, work, family stress. Oh, and I live next door to the most annoying dude in the world. I need the distraction. Are you sure you want this?
LobsterShorts: I might want it a little more than I’m willing to admit.
SinnerThree: Hey, nothing wrong with pushing your boundaries...
LobsterShorts: Tell that to my control-freak father. Anyway. What if this threesome is awkward?
SinnerThree: Then it’s awkward. It’s not like we’ll ever have to see each other again. Right? Just promise you won’t fall in love with me.
LobsterShorts: Now wouldn’t that be life-changing...
Q&A about Top Secret:
Q: Have we met these characters before in another book?
A: No! These guys are brand new, and we can’t wait for you to meet them.
Q: Is this story MM? Or is it a MMF / MFM / menage?
A: This book is MM.
Q: Is this a love triangle story?
A: Not really. You’ll see.
LobsterShorts, 21
Jock. Secretly a science geek. Hot AF.
LobsterShorts: So. Here goes. For her birthday, my girlfriend wants…a threesome.
SinnerThree: Then you’ve come to the right hookup app.
LobsterShorts: Have you done this sort of thing before? With another guy?
SinnerThree: All the time. I'm an equal opportunity player. You?
LobsterShorts: [crickets!]
SinnerThree, 21
Finance major. Secretly a male dancer. Hot AF.
SinnerThree: Well, I’m down if you are. My life is kind of a mess right now. School, work, family stress. Oh, and I live next door to the most annoying dude in the world. I need the distraction. Are you sure you want this?
LobsterShorts: I might want it a little more than I’m willing to admit.
SinnerThree: Hey, nothing wrong with pushing your boundaries...
LobsterShorts: Tell that to my control-freak father. Anyway. What if this threesome is awkward?
SinnerThree: Then it’s awkward. It’s not like we’ll ever have to see each other again. Right? Just promise you won’t fall in love with me.
LobsterShorts: Now wouldn’t that be life-changing...
Q&A about Top Secret:
Q: Have we met these characters before in another book?
A: No! These guys are brand new, and we can’t wait for you to meet them.
Q: Is this story MM? Or is it a MMF / MFM / menage?
A: This book is MM.
Q: Is this a love triangle story?
A: Not really. You’ll see.
BUY LINKS
Chapter One
Keaton
“Look,” Annika whispers in my ear. Under the table, her small hand squeezes my thigh, while her cheek gently nudges my chin toward the doorway. “He’s cute.”
“Subtle,” I tease before giving the object of her attention a cursory glance. He’s just a tall guy with brown hair, nothing special as far as I can tell. “How about we save this conversation for later?”
She rolls her eyes. “We both know there won’t be a conversation, Keaton. You like playing along, but you won’t actually go through with it.” This time she forgets to lower her voice.
“Go through with what?” one of my frat brothers asks from across the table. Tanner, Judd, and I had popped into the campus Starbucks for a caffeine fix after practice. Annika’s next class is directly across the street, so she’d come to say hi before class.
“Nothing,” I tell Tanner.
If you can call your girlfriend wanting a threesome with another dude “nothing.”
Yup, my girlfriend wants a threesome. And here I’d thought that, after six years together, Annika couldn’t surprise me anymore.
She and I have been inseparable since junior year of high school. I know every last detail about her, from her food preferences to her pet peeves. I know she gets anxiety in long lines, that she sneezes any time she gets a whiff of cinnamon, that she loves the beach but hates skiing.
What I didn’t know was that my girlfriend fantasizes about threesomes. The first time she brought it up, I thought she was kidding around. Annika Schiffer, heiress to a home-furnishings fortune, wants to bang two guys at the same time? Yeah right.
My girl is the president of her sorority, wears a pearl necklace (and not the fun kind) on a daily basis, and made me wait until we were eighteen to lose our virginities to each other. Don’t get me wrong—she’s not some uptight rich bitch with a stick up her butt. She’s fun and warm and fierce when someone tries to mess with her or her loved ones.
But she’s also… I’ll just say it: vanilla.
>I didn’t think she was serious about the threesome thing until last week, when I’d asked her what she wanted for her birthday and she brought up the idea again.
I move my lips to her ear so Tanner and Judd can’t overhear. “Don’t you worry, babe, there’ll be more than just a conversation,” I rasp.
She shivers, and then flashes me a dazzling smile. Her face is flawless. Classic features, pouty lips, and smooth skin that’s just the right amount of dewy. She works hard and spends a lot of money for that skin. I’ve been in her bathroom at the sorority house, so I’ve seen all the products she puts on her face to keep it looking so perfect. Not to mention the monthly facials, which require her to fly to New York every month because this little college town we live in doesn’t have a “competent aesthetician”—her words, not mine.
It helps that her father owns a helicopter that can accommodate her monthly treks. I’m not one to judge, though. My dad has his own jet.
“I can’t wait,” she says before hopping off my lap. “Come over tonight after practice, okay, baby? I have to go to class now.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, boys.” Annika’s hand flutters in a wave on her way to the door.
“Later!” Tanner calls after her. And if I’m not mistaken, he takes a longing look at her ass.
“Dude,” I say. “If you’re going to eye-fuck my girlfriend, you could at least be subtle about it.”
“Why?” Tanner argues. “She’d be flattered. And you should know how good you’ve got it. Besides, I’m harmless.” He flashes me a big smile. “What are we doing this weekend, anyway?” Tanner asks. “The Presidential Dance-off, right?”
I shake my head. “That’s, like, in two weeks, man.”
“Really? Why did I think it was sooner?”
“Because you’re stupid,” Judd offers helpfully.
Tanner gives him the finger, before turning back to me. “Do you know what you’re doing for yours yet?”
I have no clue. And no, dancing isn’t an actual requirement for our fraternity’s presidential race. But it used to be. A few decades ago, the candidates running for frat president decided a dance-off was the only way to decide who was more fit to lead. Hence, the Presidential Dance-off was born. On our living room walls, there are old photos of well-dressed men with slicked-back hair and girls in poodle skirts on their arms.
My fraternity has long-held traditions that began well before the invention of the red Solo cup. But these days, Alpha Delta has evolved. Or devolved, depending who you ask. Instead of perfecting his twist and his mashed potato, the presidential candidate is expected to dazzle the other members by planning a kickass event. I’m talking epic. Monumental. The kind of party that will be remembered for years to come.
Although, like dance moves, I’m not entirely sure that party planning is a solid indicator of what makes a good president. Sure, frats throw a lot of parties, but there’s a social committee for that.
The role of president is actually pretty lame, according to Reedsy, our current prez. He pulled me aside after I threw my name in the race and admitted that it’s a boring gig and that I should reconsider. “So much fucking responsibility on your shoulders, dude,” he’d bemoaned.
For a moment, I’d almost bailed. To be honest, I’m only running because my dad was president of Alpha Delt in his heyday, and my granddad before him. But that’s also the reason I couldn’t bail. My father would lose his shit if the Hayworth legacy ended with me.
So I have ten days to plan a legendary party.
“Maybe I can just hire an event planner?” I suggest.
“No way.” Judd’s response is immediate. “If that fuckhead Bailey finds out, he’ll have you impeached.”
“You can’t impeach someone until he’s elected,” Tanner points out.
Still, I don’t want to be accused of cheating. What a pain in the ass this whole thing is. “We can brainstorm about this on Sunday night. We have a game to win on Saturday.”
“Oh, we’re going to win,” Tanner promises.
But I’m not so sure. Not only am I worried about the Northern Mass offense, I think my father is driving up for the game. So winning isn’t even enough. If the Northern Mass players aren’t crying into their helmets after the fourth quarter, my father will still give me hell at brunch the next day.
And here I thought weekends were meant to be relaxing.
“Fine,” Judd says. “We’ll talk about your campaign after the other meeting on Sunday night.”
“What other meeting?” I search my brain and come up empty.
“Pledge Committee,” he says, gulping the last of his coffee.
Oh, phew. “I don’t have to go to that one. I’m not on PC this year.”
“But I sent you that email?” Judd whines. “I told you I need you there. Initiation night is coming up and my committee is lame.”
“Who’s on it, anyway? What do you have planned?” Note to self: be conveniently unavailable on Sunday night. There is no way I’m sitting on the Pledge Committee again. Dealing with last year’s pledge class was a total pain in the ass.
“There’s Ahmad, who’s smart but boring. Paul, who’s just boring. Owen, who’s fun but not exactly creative. And Paxton, who’s just a tool.” He sighs. “Whatever. At least Bailey isn’t on it this time. Remember what a buzz kill he was last year? I fucking hate that guy.”
No big secret there. Judd’s had it in for Luke Bailey ever since the guy rushed Alpha Delt sophomore year. And say what you will about Judd, but he’s not an asshole unless he feels you’ve given him a reason. He’s a bro to the core—he believes in male bonding, high fives, and, in his mind, a friendship isn’t official unless you’ve bled together, partied together, and nursed your twin hangovers the morning after.
Luke Bailey doesn’t subscribe to this philosophy. The moment he scoffed at Judd’s attempt at a fist bump, he earned himself an enemy in Judd Keller.
Since then, their tumultuous acquaintanceship has only gotten worse. Luke is a cocky ass when he wants to be, and Judd hates feeling like he’s being mocked or judged.
Oh, and then Bailey banged Judd’s ex. So there’s that.
“You exert too much mental energy on that guy,” Tanner informs Judd. Tanner’s a psych major, so he’s constantly dishing out (pretty good) advice that everyone mostly ignores. “Holding onto anger isn’t conducive to robust mental health.”
“First of all, say the word robust one more time and I’ll clock you. You know how I feel about that, bro.” Indignation flashes in Judd eyes. “And second of all, Luke Bailey screwed my girlfriend! I’m never not gonna be angry at that prick.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” I hedge, but it earns me a deep scowl from Judd. The two of us are teammates, and I do feel loyalty to him, but I’m also not afraid to call it like it is. “You and Therese were broken up for months.”
“Me and Therese are never broken up. Sure, we take short breaks, a hiatus or two. But she’s my girl,” Judd says tightly. “Everybody knows that.”
“Bailey says he didn’t,” Tanner says.
“That’s bullshit. He’s a liar. And now he’s trying to screw K over!” Judd growls. “He joined the presidential race to get back at me. I just know it.”
“You think?” Tanner looks skeptical. “Because that would be sociopathic lengths to go to just to spite you.”
“Yeah,” I agree with a chuckle. “Bailey’s a prick, but I can’t see him taking on the huge responsibility of running a fraternity just to flip you the metaphorical bird.” Although if I’m being honest, I don’t know why Luke Bailey is running for prez. The guy hasn’t shown much interest in frat activities since he joined us.
“He totally would,” Judd argues.
“Hey, we got class now,” Tanner reminds our sulking buddy. “We should book it over there.”
“Fine.” Judd scrapes his chair back and gets to his feet. His cloudy gaze meets mine again. “I’m serious, man. Bailey is bad news, and we need to kick his ass in this campaign. There’s no way I’m letting him be our president.”
“Don’t worry. He won’t be.”
Once my friends are gone, I let out a tired sigh. I don’t particularly care about Judd’s beef with Bailey at the moment. I have a football game to win, a campaign to plan, and a father to impress.
And a girlfriend to please.
I go up to the counter to get a refill, then settle in my cozy corner of the coffeehouse and open the app I downloaded last night. I hadn’t lied to Annika earlier—her birthday request is in the forefront of my mind. I just need to do some investigating first.
Welcome to Kink!
Add a profile pic.
Add bio.
I’d wanted to fill all this out last night, but my frat brothers suckered me into an epic session of Red Dead Redemption that lasted till three a.m. Now I quickly scroll through the camera roll on my phone until I find a suitable one. It’s of Annika and me, taken in Easthampton last summer. She looks smokin’ hot in a teeny string bikini, and my abs are looking tight, if I do say so myself. I crop out our faces and load the photo.
I skip the bio for now, because I’m feeling impatient. I want to see what this app has to offer more than I want to break my brain thinking of one hundred and forty-five characters to describe how my girlfriend wants to bang two men at the same time.
Actually, that’s pretty much the gist of it.
Still, I’m curious to check out the goods. Kinkis more hookup app than dating app, and I’m pleased to discover it lets you search for users who’ve expressed interest in certain arrangements.
I click on the threesome box in the search section. There are an eye-opening number of options, combinations that hadn’t even occurred to me. Annika wants another guy, though, so I ponder the easiest combos.
m/f/m
m/m/f
My finger hovers over the m/f/m button. The other option means the men are allowed to touch, I think. It’s the moment of truth. Some guys would hate this idea. I don’t, though. I’m a scientist. Experimenting is what I do.
I even dreamt about sex with men once. Or twice. I never mentioned that to Annika. But why would I? I’ve also dreamt of meeting a dragon who smoked clove cigarettes. The things my brain invents while I’m sleeping aren’t newsworthy.
But I’d be lying if I said that Annika’s shocking birthday request turns me off. I’ll try anything once. And the app lets you click as many boxes as you want. So after looking over my shoulder once more just to make sure nobody I know is watching, I tap both options and usher in the possibility of taking a walk on the wild side.
The threesome has to be with a stranger, though. I’m certain that any one of my frat brothers would be down to help me give my girl a night to remember. Well, except Dan, who’s only down for dudes. And, well, Bailey, who thinks I’m an ass. I think he’s an ass, too, so I guess we’re even.
But I can’t do this with someone I know. What if the whole night is awkward as fuck? If it’s a brother, I’ll still have to live with him. If it’s a teammate, I’ll still have to see him in the locker room.
And then there’s the opposite scenario. What if it’s not awkward as fuck? What if I like it a whole lot?
Yeah, I don’t want my buddies judging me. A stranger for the win, then.
I lean back in my chair and start swiping.
"Utterly addictive, fascinating, hilarious, and absolutely electric chemistry!" -- Samantha Young, New York Times Bestselling Author
New York Times bestselling author Penny Reid’s The Laws of Physics Trilogy is complete with TIME!
A (brokenhearted) physicist.
Now an infamous (who is LITERALLY EVERYWHERE!! UGH!) musician.
The worst has already happened.
Mona has learned that she has nothing figured out and plans are meaningless. After leaving her in Aspen, Abram is now breaking sales-records, rising to rock star fame almost overnight. Mona can’t seem to escape him. He is literally everywhere, or at least images of him are.
Just when she thinks things can't get any more confusing, Abram returns . . . What happens next?
Only TIME will tell.
Only TIME will tell.
Download your copy today!
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Start the series today with MOTION!
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Continue the series with SPACE!
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My Review
Excerpt
She was warm, and soft, and tasted like peppermint and honey. I bit back a groan.
God, she felt good. Great. Celestial. Heavenly. I may have surprised her, but she responded immediately, enthusiastically, twisting her arms around my neck, opening her mouth and welcoming the invasion of mine.
It wasn’t enough.
It was a crumb, and I was starving. Desire—to tighten my hold, devour, take, keep, cherish, to never let her go—obscured thought and sight, and I slipped a hand under her shirt to touch the silky skin of her back, sliding my fingers upward until they rested under her bra strap.
Mona lifted her chin, breaking our mouths apart, and I kissed the point of it, the elegant line of her jaw, the tender spot beneath her ear, the hot skin where Mona’s graceful neck met the slope of her shoulder. I was so hungry for her, I couldn’t stop myself from tasting every exposed inch.
“Abram,” she said, her voice a breathless, disbelieving whisper, followed by a little laugh. Her fingers flexed at the back of my neck, pressing me closer. Every part of my body hummed and vibrated, unable to contain the immensity of now, of this divine feeling.
“You’re here,” she said, her soft voice full of wonder and happiness, soothing the ravenous panic holding me hostage for the past six days. It had been a peculiar kind of madness, not being able to reach her while pretending all was fine, pretending she didn’t occupy my mind every second of the day. But receding now, it left a new kind of turmoil and urgency in its wake.
We had no time.
No, I corrected myself, We have time. We have the rest of our lives.
“I need your fu—your phone number.” I spoke gruffly against her neck, squeezing my eyes shut and breathing her in, again and again, the heat and sweetness of Mona.
I’d missed her, and that was a gross understatement. I’d been speeding toward this moment for days and being with her now felt like the aftermath of a head-on collision. Stupefied, frantic, but determined to enjoy every shared second remaining. My hands were shaking.
We have time. Calm down. Calm down.
Mona laughed lightly, the sound melodic, beautiful, and she pressed a kiss under my ear. “Why didn’t you just ask Leo? Or send me an email?”
Leo.
I worked to keep the darkness of my thoughts from showing on my face as I leaned away, letting her slide to the ground but unwilling to release her fully, fisting my unsteady hands into her T-shirt. “I couldn’t find an email for you anywhere, and neither could Marie. She tried calling your department for me. They told her all media requests had to go through the PR department at the university and it would take two weeks to a month for a response.”
“Ah, that’s true. My email is on lockdown, otherwise it gets out of hand.” She nodded contritely. “But what about Leo?”
“Leo.” I forced my jaw to relax and I lowered my voice but couldn’t completely disguise the intensity of my wrath. “Leo wouldn’t give me your number.”
Mona’s hand moved to my face, her palm pressed against my cheek, the pads of her fingers softly stroking my beard. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I ground out. “He said he was doing me a favor. So I flew to LA.”
“You flew to LA?” I felt her body tense, and the moment realization dawned, her beautiful eyes growing impossibly large as they moved over my face. “You must be so tired and—but I wasn’t in LA, I was—”
“Here. Yes. I found that out yesterday when I stopped by your department at Caltech and they told me you weren’t due back until Friday,” I rushed to explain, multitasking, using the time to devour the sight of her, soak and submerge in the reality of being here with her.
Calm down. We. Have. Time.
Meet Penny Reid
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Fluffy
Julia Kent
Publication date: April 30th 2019
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance
Julia Kent
Publication date: April 30th 2019
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance
An all-new STANDALONE from New York Times bestselling author Julia Kent
It all started with the wrong Help Wanted ad. Of course it did.
I’m a professional fluffer. It’s NOT what you think. I stage homes for a living. Real estate agents love me, and my work stands on its own merits.
Sigh. Get your mind out of the gutter. Go ahead. Laugh. I’ll wait.
See? That’s the problem. My career has used the term “fluffer” for decades. I didn’t even know there was a more… lascivious definition of the term.
Until it was too late.
The ad for a “professional fluffer” on Craigslist seemed like divine intervention. My last unemployment check was in the bank. I was desperate. Rent was due. The ad said cash paid at the end of the day.
The perfect job!
Staging homes means showing your best angle. The same principle applies in making a certain kind of movie. Turns out a “fluffer” doesn’t arrange decorative pillows on a couch.
They arrange other soft, round-ish objects.
The job isn’t hard. Er, I mean, it is — it’s about being hard. Or, well… helping other people to be hard.
Oh, man…
And that’s the other problem. A man. No, not one of the stars on the movie set. Will Lotham – my high school crush. The owner of the house where we’re filming. Illegally. In a vacation rental.
By the time the cops show up, what I thought was just a great house staging gig turned into a nightmare involving pictures of me with an undressed naked star, Will rescuing me from an arrest, and a humiliating lesson in my own naivete.
My job turned out to be so much harder than I expected. But you know what’s easier than I ever imagined?
Having all my dreams come true.
EXCERPT
“Do you use the proper terms for everything, Mallory?” He makes an inarticulate sound as I peel the gauze off the cut, wiping gently. “You call your pretty place a vulva, right? And you use the word vagina.”“’Pretty place’?”
He shrugs.
“And yes, I do. Vulva and vagina. And then there’s the clitoris,” I say primly.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“A clitoris. Never heard of it.”
I freeze and look down at him. Bright eyes meet mine. Is he serious?
“The clitoris is a nerve cluster above the opening to the vagina,” I begin, taking a breath to continue my impromptu human sexuality lecture, because when a man tells you they don’t know what a clitoris is, you educate them immediately.
For the sisterhood. All the women Will is going to sleep with from here on out will thank me later.
He starts to laugh. I’m so tempted to pour the small bottle of isopropyl alcohol directly on his wound, but I’m a kind, compassionate woman, so instead I dab it on with a swab.
“OW!” he bellows.
“Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry at all.”
“I’m sorry for your sex partners that you have no idea what a clitoris is, Will.”
“I know what it is. And my tongue knows how to find one. Blindfolded.”
“Why would you blindfold your tongue?”
Author Bio
Making Up, an all-new laugh-out-loud romantic comedy standalone from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming July 16th, and we have the smoking hot cover!
Cosy Felton is great at her job—she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. So when the hottest guy she’s ever seen walks into the shop looking completely overwhelmed, she’s more than happy to turn on the charm and help him purchase all of the items on his list.
Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City. The last thing he wants is to be put in charge of buying gag gifts for his friend’s bachelor party. Despite being totally out of his element, and mortified by the whole experience, Griffin is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself attracted to the sales girl that helped him.
As skeptical as Cosy may be of Griffin’s motivations, there’s something about him that intrigues her. But sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas and when real life gets in the way, all bets are off. Filled with hilariously awkward situations and enough sexual chemistry to power Sin City, Making Up is the next standalone in the Shacking Up world.
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About Helena
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.
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I really am struggling to review this book. From the first time I read the blurb I wanted to read it so when I was trying to figure out what to read next and this popped up on KU I thought it was a no brainer. Only it wasn't.
I am in a kinda book slump and nothing is really grabbing me since life is soo hectic. But I pushed on and kept trying to get invested because the story was good and I wanted to know what happened I just had to force myself to keep reading.
Then I got to about the 65% mark and I had to see if my suspicions were correct and get some happily ever after for Hay and War. But I have to admit I did skim a lot. I just personally felt there was too much background info and focus on secondary characters who weren't involved in the actual story.
I heard more about Hay's sister and father issues than I cared about yet the info on Warren's parents was glossed over even though it was potentially a hell of a lot more interesting.
Overall it is possible it's a me issue rather than a book issue and I probably would have been better off putting it down at the start rather than spending 3 days trying to make myself read it but it wasn't a bad book just not one for me at the moment.
I rarely read MM romance, not because I don’t like it but just because there’s so many other romance genres that I prefer I never get there except for a few certain authors who if they write it I will read it. And Tessa Bailey is one of the authors at the top of that list. Her books are just so freaking hot yet they aren’t lacking in the emotion or storyline either. Sometimes I think she has the map to all my kinks.
And this series has been perfect. I loved Olive and Rory so much and I really enjoyed meeting the other Prince brothers. And I really did fall hard for Marcus and Jamie but I really didn’t think I would be as big a fan of Marcus as I came to be. He came across as being so full of himself but in a way that was cute and loveable until I started to see him through Jamie’s eyes and see everything he was going through from his own point of view. Then he was just perfect.
I can’t even fathom how hard it would be to go through being judged for who you are as a person. And watching Marcus struggle with not just realising he was gay but also how to tell his family actually made me tear up a little bit. And then on the flip side Jamie being out and proud despite the things he had gone through to get there I completely understood him not wanting to wait for Marcus to figure out who he was.
Of course the writing was so good that I felt every emotion they went through. The good and the bad. Then you have Tessa Bailey’s trade mark sizzling, hot as hell chemistry and the whole book was unputdownable. From start to finish I was so involved and I loved every word of it.
And now I am dying to get my hands on the next book which had better be Andrew and Jiya’s or I may have to start a mutiny. Plus I am dying from the suspense of who the damn guy is floating around. Just release the damn book already Tessa.
Animal Attraction
Kate Willoughby
(San Francisco Dragons #2)
Publication date: April 27th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports
Kate Willoughby
(San Francisco Dragons #2)
Publication date: April 27th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports
What do you do when an NHL player steals your dog and won’t give it back?
Maggie Hudson made a heartbreaking decision nine years ago that has haunted her ever since. To fill the hole in her life, she showers her rescue dog with love and affection. But one day, Kirby goes missing.
Six months later, NHL player Spencer Corbett is astonished when Maggie shows up on his doorstep demanding her dog back. He’d found the pug on the side of the road, collarless and in bad shape. But even when confronted with hard evidence she’s the dog’s owner, he begs her to reconsider. His own elderly dog is on her last legs and Kirby has given her a new lease on life.
After Maggie relents, Spencer can’t help but fall for her. Not only is she the most compassionate and selfless person he’s ever met, she’s witty, intelligent and sexier than sin and doesn’t even realize. What starts out as a friendship quickly turns into more, but when a woman from Spencer’s past throws everything into chaos, their fragile relationship is put to the ultimate test.
Animal Attraction may be read and enjoyed as a standalone sports romance!
Maggie Hudson made a heartbreaking decision nine years ago that has haunted her ever since. To fill the hole in her life, she showers her rescue dog with love and affection. But one day, Kirby goes missing.
Six months later, NHL player Spencer Corbett is astonished when Maggie shows up on his doorstep demanding her dog back. He’d found the pug on the side of the road, collarless and in bad shape. But even when confronted with hard evidence she’s the dog’s owner, he begs her to reconsider. His own elderly dog is on her last legs and Kirby has given her a new lease on life.
After Maggie relents, Spencer can’t help but fall for her. Not only is she the most compassionate and selfless person he’s ever met, she’s witty, intelligent and sexier than sin and doesn’t even realize. What starts out as a friendship quickly turns into more, but when a woman from Spencer’s past throws everything into chaos, their fragile relationship is put to the ultimate test.
Animal Attraction may be read and enjoyed as a standalone sports romance!
—
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EXCERPT
What kind of jerk didn’t give back a person’s dog?
The PR man said he had personally given Corbett the message only a couple of hours after she’d called. As the days continued to pass with no word, Maggie grew increasingly frustrated and even angry.
Finally, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Kirby belonged with her and damned if she was going to let some immoral, spoiled, self-centered jerk who only pretended to be a nice guy for the public, get away with keeping her dog, even if he was an NHL player.
After making the decision to hunt down the dog-napper herself, she had watched the video segment again, this time watching for clues as to where he lived. They mentioned Hillsborough. Of course. Very high-class neighborhood. That narrowed it down quite a bit. He dropped the name of an Italian restaurant he frequented that was “within easy walking distance” of his house. That narrowed it even further. She printed a map of the area and marked a three-block radius out from that restaurant. They showed a few seconds of him walking away from his house with the dogs on a leash and she froze the video and took a picture of the view.
Then because he mentioned a team party he was hosting to watch the All-Star game, she decided to go to his house and accuse him of dog-napping in front of all his friends. With any luck, peer pressure would make him give up Kirby. Was it going to be horrid, shaming a Dragons player when for more than ten years she’d rooted for the team with all her heart as a hockey fan? Yes. Could she have gone to the media and exposed him the way Jade had suggested? Yes.
But what it all came down to was she thought he was morally despicable and she wanted to tell him so to his face. She wanted the satisfaction of taking her dog away from him personally.
It took her about fifteen minutes of search-cruising before she found his place. Looking toward downtown San Francisco, the view matched the photo.
As she parked her car, the realization hit her that she was about to barge in on what might be the entire Dragons hockey team. Before she’d arrived, all she’d focused on was getting Kirby back. She’d imagined herself going in and righteously claiming her dog. Her main emotion had been indignation. Now, a case of the jitters undermined her determination.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
She looked up at the spectacular two-story house. The sprawling property looked as if Arts and Crafts architecture and Japanese landscaping had a baby. Lush mature trees cast shade over mossy rocks and boulders. The wooden bridge leading to the front door crossed an actual pond, complete with brightly colored koi fish. As she looked around and the luxuriousness of the neighborhood sunk in, the jitters progressed into near-panic. She’d passed the Sierra Point friggin’ Yacht Club on her way, for Pete’s sake.
No. She would do this. Kirby was hers. Even if she couldn’t offer him posh digs like these, they belonged together. She’d had him since puppyhood. They had a bond that couldn’t and wouldn’t ever be broken. Even now, he was probably wishing he were home with her, cuddling on her old sofa watching reruns of Friends and eating microwave popcorn. She told herself the players were only people, like her. People with unusual, high-profile jobs and bodies like gods.
She went up to the front door where a sign said, “Come on in. Hope you brought beer.”
Gathering her courage, she knocked anyway.
No one answered. And it was kind of quiet. Maybe the party hadn’t started yet.
She tried the door and found it unlocked. Before entering, she took a picture of the sign, because if this devolved and the police were called, she wanted evidence that, technically, she was invited in.
“Hello?” she called hesitantly, crossing the threshold into the foyer.
The house was just as gorgeous on the inside as it was on the outside. She’d seen it on the video, but in person, it felt richer and more personal. A San Francisco Dragons player actually lived here. Spencer Corbett occasionally sat on that couch. He walked on this plush rug.
He—gulp—was standing right there, staring at her.
The PR man said he had personally given Corbett the message only a couple of hours after she’d called. As the days continued to pass with no word, Maggie grew increasingly frustrated and even angry.
Finally, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Kirby belonged with her and damned if she was going to let some immoral, spoiled, self-centered jerk who only pretended to be a nice guy for the public, get away with keeping her dog, even if he was an NHL player.
After making the decision to hunt down the dog-napper herself, she had watched the video segment again, this time watching for clues as to where he lived. They mentioned Hillsborough. Of course. Very high-class neighborhood. That narrowed it down quite a bit. He dropped the name of an Italian restaurant he frequented that was “within easy walking distance” of his house. That narrowed it even further. She printed a map of the area and marked a three-block radius out from that restaurant. They showed a few seconds of him walking away from his house with the dogs on a leash and she froze the video and took a picture of the view.
Then because he mentioned a team party he was hosting to watch the All-Star game, she decided to go to his house and accuse him of dog-napping in front of all his friends. With any luck, peer pressure would make him give up Kirby. Was it going to be horrid, shaming a Dragons player when for more than ten years she’d rooted for the team with all her heart as a hockey fan? Yes. Could she have gone to the media and exposed him the way Jade had suggested? Yes.
But what it all came down to was she thought he was morally despicable and she wanted to tell him so to his face. She wanted the satisfaction of taking her dog away from him personally.
It took her about fifteen minutes of search-cruising before she found his place. Looking toward downtown San Francisco, the view matched the photo.
As she parked her car, the realization hit her that she was about to barge in on what might be the entire Dragons hockey team. Before she’d arrived, all she’d focused on was getting Kirby back. She’d imagined herself going in and righteously claiming her dog. Her main emotion had been indignation. Now, a case of the jitters undermined her determination.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
She looked up at the spectacular two-story house. The sprawling property looked as if Arts and Crafts architecture and Japanese landscaping had a baby. Lush mature trees cast shade over mossy rocks and boulders. The wooden bridge leading to the front door crossed an actual pond, complete with brightly colored koi fish. As she looked around and the luxuriousness of the neighborhood sunk in, the jitters progressed into near-panic. She’d passed the Sierra Point friggin’ Yacht Club on her way, for Pete’s sake.
No. She would do this. Kirby was hers. Even if she couldn’t offer him posh digs like these, they belonged together. She’d had him since puppyhood. They had a bond that couldn’t and wouldn’t ever be broken. Even now, he was probably wishing he were home with her, cuddling on her old sofa watching reruns of Friends and eating microwave popcorn. She told herself the players were only people, like her. People with unusual, high-profile jobs and bodies like gods.
She went up to the front door where a sign said, “Come on in. Hope you brought beer.”
Gathering her courage, she knocked anyway.
No one answered. And it was kind of quiet. Maybe the party hadn’t started yet.
She tried the door and found it unlocked. Before entering, she took a picture of the sign, because if this devolved and the police were called, she wanted evidence that, technically, she was invited in.
“Hello?” she called hesitantly, crossing the threshold into the foyer.
The house was just as gorgeous on the inside as it was on the outside. She’d seen it on the video, but in person, it felt richer and more personal. A San Francisco Dragons player actually lived here. Spencer Corbett occasionally sat on that couch. He walked on this plush rug.
He—gulp—was standing right there, staring at her.
Author Bio
USA Today bestselling author Kate Willoughby is in love with the sport of hockey and the entire Los Angeles Kings team. Having lived most of her life completely uninterested in professional sports, she is surprised at the intensity of her enthusiasm and her growing collection of Kings merchandise: a Dustin Brown jersey (covered with autographs), 3 T-shirts, 5 lapel pins, 3 hats, earrings, several play-off towels, 2 replica Stanley Cup Champions banners, a Christmas ornament, blanket, a car windshield sticker, a license plate frame, and the pièce de résistance, an autographed collector card with a swatch from Justin William's game-worn jersey. Yeah. Don't judge her.
She resides in Los Angeles with her husband, their two sons, and a Chihuahua named Mochi.
She is also a member of the Romance Writers of America and winner of the 2009 EPPIE Award for Best Fantasy/Paranormal Erotic Romance and the 2016 EPPIE Award for Best Contemporary Romance.
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Title: Mason
Author: Apryl Baker
Genre: Security Romance
Publisher: Crave Publishing
Publication Date: April 16th, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb
MasonThings were finally going right for Mason Kincaid—until everything went sideways when his father informed him he was going to stop his cancer treatments. Knocked off balance by that curveball, Mason might have said something impulsive, and now he’s in hot water.
He’s engaged. His girl just doesn’t know it…yet.
But as it turns out, that might be the least of his problems. He pissed off the wrong people and finds himself on the wrong side of the law, all while trying to deal with a threat to his girl, which is quickly spinning out of control.
Josephine
Josephine Maxwell is used to being in the spotlight, having one of the most popular gaming channels on YouTube. So when a package shows up with a cryptic note inside, she assumes it’s a joke.
Only it doesn’t end with a package. Gifts start to arrive for her at her sorority house with threatening notes, followed by emails and texts from an unknown and increasingly frightening caller.
What she assumed was a twisted prank turns potentially deadly for her and Mason, and the clock is quickly winding down on their chances for survival.
Jo’s had enough challenges in her life, and now she must fight to stay alive while the Kincaid's rush to identify the threat and find her before it’s too late.
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So who am I?
Well, I’m the crazy girl with an imagination that never shuts up. I LOVE scary movies. My friends laugh at me when I scare myself watching them and tell me to stop watching them, but who doesn’t love to get scared? I grew up in a small town nestled in the southern mountains of West Virginia where I spent days roaming around in the woods, climbing trees, and causing general mayhem. Nights I would stay up reading Nancy Drew by flashlight under the covers until my parents yelled at me to go to sleep.
Now, I live in a small town in West Virginia where I entertain my niece and nephew and watch the cats get teased by the birds and laugh myself silly when they swoop down and then dive back up just out of reach. The cats start yelling something fierce…lol.
I love books, I love writing books, and I love entertaining people with my silly stories.
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