Monday, March 31, 2014

THE HARLOW HOYDEN by Lynn Messina: Excerpt, Review & Giveaway


Miss Emma Harlow hasn’t earned the reputation as a hoyden for nothing, so when the Duke of Trent discovers her in his conservatory stealing one of his orchids, he’s isn’t surprised—charmed, delighted and puzzled, yes, but not surprised. It is Emma who is amazed. She has naturally concluded that the man reading in the conservatory must be the country cousin (who else in London would actually read?) and is quite vexed to discover that he is the Duke of Trent himself—imagine, stealing the duke’s prize Rhyncholaelia digbyana under his very nose! 

But her vexation doesn’t last long. For Emma is a practical young lady with a mission: to end her dear sister Lavinia’s engagement to the villainous (and dreadfully dull!) Sir Waldo Windbourne, and she thinks that the famous libertine is just the man for the job. If he would only seduce her sister away from Sir Waldo…. Well, not seduce exactly, but flirt mercilessly and engage her interest. Perhaps then Lavinia would jilt the baron. The Duke of Trent is resistant, of course. Despite his reputation, he does not toy with the affections of innocents. And besides, it’s not her sister he longs to seduce.


Miss Emma Harlow was so intent on her task that she did not notice the gentleman in the leather armchair. She didn’t see him lower his book, cock his head to the side and examine her with interest.

“I say, is that the best way to do that?” the gentleman asked after a moment.

Emma, whose feathers were never the sort to ruffle easily, even when she was behaving improperly in a place she didn’t belong—in this case, with her fingers around the stem of a prize Rhyncholaelia digbyana in the Duke of Trent’s conservatory—calmly turned around. Her blue-eyed gaze, steady and sometimes intimidating, met with an amused brown one. “Excuse me?”

The gentleman closed the leather-bound edition, taking care to mark the page, and stood up. “Snapping the stem will ill serve your purpose,” he said, approaching.

Emma watched him stride across the room, taking in his handsome features—the long, straight nose, the chiseled jawline, the full lips—and neat appearance. The unknown gentleman was tall, lean and given to easy grace. She liked the way he was dressed, simply and without affectation in buckskin breeches, shiny Hessians and white lawn. His shirt points were without starch and his shoulders without padding. Of course, she readily noted, his broad shoulders precluded the necessity of such foppish enhancements. His hair, a deep rich brown color that well suited his dark complexion, was cut short in the fashionable mode. “My purpose?” she asked when he was within a few inches of her.

“Given the situation, I can only assume that you were overcome with admiration for this lovely and rare flower and sought to take it home with you to show off to all your friends in the horticultural society.” He didn’t wait for her to confirm or deny his theory but continued in the same conversational tone. “Surely as a member of that esteemed institution, you know that the only way to ensure that the flower lives is to cut it at the bulb through the rhizome.”

At these words, Emma dissolved into delighted, unguarded laugher, and several seconds passed before she could respond intelligibly. “You must be the visiting country cousin the duchess spoke of!”

A faint curve touched the gentleman’s lips. “I must?”

“Yes, of course,” she insisted. “Who else in town would bandy about the word rhizome?”

“Your logic is irrefutable. Indeed I must be the visiting country cousin. And who are you?”


“Come! You are standing here in the conservatory with me, as corporeal as I am. You’re hardly a ghost. Surely you wouldn’t have me believe such a whisker.”

“No, not that sort of nobody,” she explained. “I’m nobody of importance. You needn’t bother asking my name because you will only forget it in a minute or so and then I will have to remind you, which will be a dreadful embarrassment for the both of us. Now do show me where the rhizome is so I can return to the party. I told Mama I would be gone only a minute and now it has stretched into five. Mama brought me here as a favor—she and I rarely socialize together—and I’d hate to do anything that would distress her.”

Unaccustomed to orders and amused by the novelty, the gentleman complied. “The rhizome, my dear, is the stem usually under the—”

“Sir, you are very kind to try to edify me on the topic of rhizomes, but I assure you I have little interest in learning about plants.”

Feigning a look of disappointment, he said, “Very well. We will need a knife for the operation. I don’t suppose you brought one with you?”

Emma laughed, a pleasant trilling sound that made the gentleman smile in appreciation. “Sir, I did consider smuggling a knife out of the kitchens, but a gently bred lady cannot wander the streets of London with a knife in her reticule. It’s just as well, of course, since my sister-in-law keeps very close watch over the family silver and I couldn’t bear it if a scullery maid was turned off because of my lack of resourcefulness.” Emma examined the room, considering the situation. Her gaze settled on the desk. “Perhaps you should search the drawers for a letter opener. Yes, that would be just the thing!”

“Rifling through my host’s drawers is a very sad sack way of repaying his hospitality,” he observed.

Emma stared at him for a moment before saying, “You make an excellent point, sir, and far be it for me to corrupt the newly arrived country cousin. Since I’m the one lacking in any sense of propriety, it’s best that I do my own dirty work.” The drawer was unlocked and glided easily open. “There,” she said, taking the long silver object in hand, “now we shall cut the rhizome and return to our separate occupations. No doubt Mama is wondering what happened to me.”

The gentleman accepted the letter opener and was about to apply it to the plant when his hand halted in midair. “You know, Miss Nobody, I am suddenly struck with a vulgar bout of curiosity. What do you plan to do with this lovely flower after I finish cutting it?”

“I will stick it in my reticule and return to the party,” she answered.

The gentleman smiled. “And then?”

Emma stared at the gentleman’s hand and tried to think of a convincing fiction. However, even as she closed her eyes and told herself to concentrate, nothing came to mind. “Then I will hand it over to my sister, who’s a great cultivator of orchids.”

“If your sister is so great a cultivator of orchids, I wonder why she sent her sister to steal one of the Duke of Trent’s Rhyncholaelia digbyana.”

Emma laughed at the thought of Lavinia sending anyone to do her evil bidding. It was almost too ridiculous. “You misunderstand the situation, sir. My sister has no idea I’m here. Indeed, if she did, I imagine she’d be quite horrified.”

“Then why are you here?”

“It is a sordid tale of malice and spite, which I think I best keep to myself. We are new acquaintances, and I would loath to earn your disgust so quickly. It usually takes me a day or two to offend a man of your stature.”

“Now you must tell me. I’m a curious fellow, and your speech has whet my appetite for the truth. We will not leave this room until I know the whole of it.”

Miss Harlow sighed deeply and said, “The truth of it is that my sister is engaged to marry a man who does not approve of her pastime of raising orchids. Why not, I cannot fathom, since it is a genteel hobby and not at all down in the dirt like raising horses or chickens. If that were the case, then perhaps I could sympathize with his aversion. However, the wretched man is trying to make her withdraw from the Horticultural Society’s annual orchid show. My sister earned honorable mention in last year’s show, and she’s sure to win the blue ribbon this year. Alas, I fear her resolve is slipping under Sir—” Emma broke off her speech abruptly. It would not do to muddy the waters with names. “Under her betrothed’s constant disapproval. I merely wished to supply her with such an excellent example of an orchid that she won’t be able to resist participating. Everyone knows that the Duke of Trent grows the finest orchids in all of England.”

“I suspect the duke would be much gratified by the compliment.”

“I do not know. I’ve never met the duke. I know only his mother, the lovely and good-hearted dowager duchess. She was at school with my mother and was kind enough not to mind my coming today.” She looked toward the doorway, where the sound of chattering ladies could be heard drifting in. “Now, sir, can we please get on with it? It would be an awful embarrassment if anyone else were to find me in the conservatory with an ill-gotten letter opener in my hand. Mama would no doubt ring a peal over my head and send me to bed without supper. Then I would be tossed back to Derbyshire in disgrace.”

“We can’t have that,” he said, before applying the sharp instrument to the root. It took him only a moment to slice cleanly through. “There, do be careful not to get soil on your dress. It would be a waste to ruin such a lovely picture.”

“Bah, lovely pictures are the least of my concern. I will take caution because a patch of dirt would rather give up the game and reveal my true nature to the ladies at the tea party.” Emma opened her reticule and let the dowager duchess of Trent’s country cousin help her place the orchid within. It was a delicate procedure, and she was relieved that he handled the flower tenderly and with skilled fingers. If left to her own devices, she would’ve no doubt crushed it thoroughly. “I am reminded of my nephew Richard, who claimed with frightful vigor that he didn’t finish the last chocolate tart while incriminating evidence spotted his cheeks.”

“No reason to worry, my dear. We’ve covered up your profligacy nicely. You look as though butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth and not at all the degenerate you have proven yourself to be.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, pleased to have succeeded with her plan despite the unexpected hitch of discovery. “I’m in your debt for not calling the Runners on me.”

“Excellent. I trust you’ll be at the Bennington ball?” At her nod, he continued. “You can pay me back then with a set. Save a place for me on your dance card.”

Emma laughed. “That would be just the thing, sir. I don’t often have the opportunity to dance with anyone other than my brother and shall relish the opportunity. Perhaps it will be a waltz? I love the waltz, but one simply cannot do it with one’s brother.”

“Fustian!” the gentleman said.

“Really, I assure you, sir, I have danced the waltz with Roger and it’s awful. He’s light on his feet, of course, and is well familiar with the steps, but even I, who am not a romantical silly miss, knows the waltz should be performed with a beau.”

“I meant, my dear girl, that I cannot credit your lack of dancing partners. I might be from the country, where we do things differently, but even in London, the hands of beautiful ladies are always sought. It’s the way of things.”

Emma laughed, pleased with the comment. “That’s such a lovely compliment and so prettily done that I begin to doubt your rural origins. Despite the way you toss around words like rhizome, you have town bronze. But you will soon learn that here in London beauty aligned with too much personality isn’t very attractive at all,” she explained. “I’m afraid I am very much a quiz as far as society is concerned. I chatter too much and I’m too free in my manners, and I have all of society turning their heads away in disgust. Fortunately, I don’t have a large enough portion to whet the interest of men like your cousin the duke. If I did, I’m afraid I would be forced to behave, which would be dreadful dull.”

“Come, you’re a gently bred woman and a rather young one at that. What can you have possibly done to set society on its ear?”

Emma looked around the room just to make sure they were alone before leaning in and saying very quietly in his ear, “I raced from London to Newmarket in my curricle and broke Sir Leopold’s record.”

The gentleman’s brow furrowed and then cleared. “I know of you. You’re the Harlow Hoyden.”

“C’est moi,” she said.

“You are notorious.” An interested smile hovered over his lips.

She shrugged. “Only a little and I do not mind much. It keeps the serious suitors away and leaves me to my freedom.”

“The Harlow Hoyden,” he said under his breath. “Sir Leopold’s record stood untouched for three years and you broke it by two minutes.”

“Two minutes and seven seconds,” she said, identical dimples revealing themselves in both her cheeks. “I’m an excellent whipster and would have done better if Roger hadn’t been with me. I had to take him along for propriety’s sake. Sometimes propriety is the very devil, is it not, sir?”

He nodded. “Speaking of propriety, you should return to the party. Surely your absence has been remarked on.”

Emma knew it was true—she herself had said the same thing several times—but now that the moment had arrived, she was reluctant to end this delightful interlude. “You are right. Thank you for your help, sir.” She turned and walked away.

She was almost at the door when he called her name. “Miss Harlow, I believe you said a waltz.” She nodded. “Until tomorrow then, my dear.”

A few moments later, Emma returned to her mother’s side, very pleased with that afternoon’s work.



I have a soft spot in my heart for Regency romance novels and I rarely indulge in them anymore, but every now and then there is nothing better than getting whisked away (and back) to the Regency era!The Harlow Hoyden starts off with Emma up to one of her shenanigans and really takes off with an interesting angle.  I  instantly craved more after the end of the first chapter and found I couldn't stop reading!  

Emma and Trent have a great chemistry and their banter was truly enjoyable to read.   I really enjoyed Emma's character, she was non-traditional and proud of it, she was comfortable in her skin and made no apologies for her beliefs.  The Duke of Trent was intriguing and patient, he didn't react like a typical aristocrat of the ton and I was instantly enamored with him.  The whole cast of secondary characters really entertained and I can't wait to see if there are going to be more from them in the future.

This was my first book by Lynn Messina and I would love to get more!  If you are looking for a Regency that has an original female lead, then you are going to fall in love with Emma.  The Harlow Hoyden is definitely a different take on your traditional Regency romance novels!



Lynn Messina grew up on Long Island and studied English at Washington University in St. Louis. She has worked at The Museum of Television & Radio (now the Paley Center for Media), TV Guide, In Style, Rolling Stone, Fitness, Self and a bunch of wonderful magazines that have long since disappeared. She mourns the death of print journalism in New York City, where she lives with her husband and two sons. She is author of five novels, including the best-selling Fashionistas, which has been translated into 15 languages and is in development as a feature film. She loves traveling and watching TV.



*The 2 signed paperbacks are US only.  HOWEVER, The Blushing Reader blog will gift an ebook to any international winner*

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Release Day Blitz: TEMPTING FATE Boxed Set

TEMPTING FATE Boxed set Includes:

The Agreement
by Amazon Top 10 Bestseller S.E. Lund
Twitter: @elizal2012

Belong to You
by New York Times & USA Today Bestseller Vi Keeland
Follow Vi Keeland on Facebook
Twitter:     @vikeeland

by Amazon Top 10 Bestseller Penelope Ward
Twitter:      @PenelopeAuthor

Wreck Me
by USA Today Bestseller J.L. Mac
Twitter:   @JLMacbooks

Searching for Moore
by Barnes & Noble Top 10 Bestseller Julie Richman
Twitter: @JulieARichman

The Future of Our Past

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Spotlight Giveaway & Author Interview: PERFECTLY BROKEN by Prescott Lane



 Even after years of trauma therapy, Peyton still believes she’s broken.  She has little desire to date or show off her natural beauty, content simply to hang out with her best friends and run her pie shop in New Orleans.  But her world turns upside-down when a handsome architect and self-confessed player shows up in her shop and thinks she’s perfect, much more than the usual hook-up.  While Peyton does her best to resist his charms, believing she could never be enough for him, she can’t deny the obvious heat between them.  With Reed determined to have her, Peyton must decide whether to continue to hide behind her apron and baggy clothes or take a chance and share her scars with Reed, a man with a playboy reputation and scars of his own -- a dark past he can’t possibly share with Peyton, not after learning the horrors she’s endured.  But if they can find a way to trust each other, and themselves, they just might be able to heal, to save each other, to live perfectly broken together.


Dr. Lorraine closed the chart again.  “Listen up!” she barked, startling her young patient.  “I know the game you play.  Reed doesn’t, so he left not realizing this is what you do.  Someone gets close to you, or you open up a little bit, and then you get scared, hide, look for a reason to push them away.”  Peyton’s eyes began to tear, and Dr. Lorraine handed her another tissue.  “The scared girl laying on the dirty ground helpless after losing her innocence.”

“Sometimes it’s better to push people away, so you don’t hurt them,” Peyton said, “and they don’t hurt you.”


Peyton shook her head.  “I’m never going to be whole again.”

“That’s bullshit, too.  I won’t have talk like that, Miss Peyton.  I just won’t have it.”  Dr. Lorraine cocked her head to the side.  “It’s time for a change in direction -- a serious change of direction.  This is what we are going to do.  You made a lot of progress with Reed – lots of good oral and other stuff.  But now you’ve cut him off, and I see you backsliding.  I don’t like to see it.  I won’t allow it.”  She stroked her chin then cracked her knuckles in preparation for some great declaration.  “I’m prescribing a little retail therapy.” 

“What?” Peyton cried.

“Yes, that’s what I’m prescribing.  You get that friend of yours, Quinn, and hit the shops – Canal Place, Magazine Street, St. Charles Avenue, wherever,” Dr. Lorraine ordered, her whole body bouncing.  “I don’t want to see you in those sad, baggy ass clothes anymore.  Just looking at them, they mess with my head, and they screw up my whole day.  You ever think about how they make me feel?”

“No,” Peyton said with a laugh.

“Makes me sad.  I hate them.  So I want new shoes, clothes, athletic wear, undergarments!  Everything new.  Got it?”

“How is this therapy?”

“Honey, you’re hiding again.  You’ve flipped your sex switch back to off, and I’m not about to let it hibernate in some frozen tundra again for years.  We’ve worked too damn hard.  You need to get in touch with your sexuality without a man helping you do it.  You have to do it.  And clothes are the perfect place to start.”

Peyton shrugged.  “I don’t feel like it.”

“You don’t feel like it?  Tough shit!  I didn’t feel like getting my pap smear last week, but I did.”

Peyton smiled.  “It just seems like a waste of time and money.”

“Well, if you don’t want to do it through clothes, I can prescribe something else.  Maybe a pole dancing class?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Or daily masturbation?”  

Peyton rolled her eyes.  “Fine, I’ll get the clothes.”

“Good,” Dr. Lorraine said, writing in Peyton’s chart, as if filling out a prescription to take to the drugstore.  “Among other things, I want you to get some power panties.”

“Power panties?”  Has she been talking to Bret?

“Sexy underwear,” Dr. Lorraine said, still writing.  “They can make a woman feel very powerful.”  She put down her pen and looked at Peyton.  “When a man wants to be taken seriously, he usually wears a red tie.  Ever notice that in presidential debates?  Lots of red ties.  Red is the color of power.”  Dr. Lorraine waved her hand and snapped her fingers.  “So get yourself some red panties, girl!  Take back your power!  Do it for yourself!”  She handed Peyton her prescription.

“I didn’t realize my power was in my underwear.”


Love Somebody   Maroon Five

Clarity    Zedd

Lets stay together   Al Green

Just go   Lionel Richie

Stay   Rihanna

Sleep beneath your beautiful    Labrynth 
Imagine Dragons   Demons

John Legend  All of me



Prescott Lane is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College in 1997 with a degree in sociology. She went on to Tulane University to receive her MSW in 1998, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She currently resides in New Orleans with her husband and two children.


What kind of snack/drink is a MUST for you when writing? 
When I’m writing I get into a zone.  I don’t eat, drink, or go to the bathroom.  I write until the voices in my head stop.  Sometimes I look up and find it’s three or four am.  I have to be up in 2 hours.  I usually save the alcohol for the times when I’m in a writing slump.  Tends to help.

What made you start writing?  
I had a tough year and wanted to escape, wanted to create my own Happily Ever After.  It was that simple.

What is your biggest inspiration source (where do you get your ideas).  
I get a ton of ideas from my girlfriends.  They are a funny bunch.

Describe your perfect writing space? and where do you actually write?  
Hmm, I need to have quiet when I write, so it couldn’t be anywhere too fun.  Sorry to disappoint.  I actually write on my laptop in bed with my little Cavalier puppy next to me.

Is writing your full time job? If not, what else do you do?  
Writing doesn’t pay the bills yet, but I consider it my full-time job.  My husband still gets the honor of paying all the bills.  But I’m also a mom to two kids and two dogs, so that’s my full time job, it doesn’t pay the bills either.  But it’s worth it.

What is one surprising fact about you, that not too many people know?  
Probably that I’m a writer.  I write under a pen name, only my closest friends and family really know who Prescott Lane is.  I’m kinda a double agent.

What are you writing now? 
I don’t have a title for my third book, but I am knee deep into it already.  It’s a second chance romance, and that’s all I can say.

What is the first Romance book you remember reading?  What is the last book you read?  
I can’t remember the name of the first one I read, but I was a tween.  My grandmother always was reading them, and I spent a summer with her and got hooked.  The last book I read was a fairy princess book with my daughter last night.

Who is your current book boyfriend/crush?  
Have to say that no one will ever beat Christian Grey.

What was the last book you read that gave you a "book hangover?"  
Perfectly Broken of course.  I read it so many times trying to make it perfect.  It never made me pray to the porcelain God, but it came close.



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Friday, March 28, 2014

Sequence One: BEG, TEASE, SUBMIT (Songs of Submission) by C.D. Reiss is on SALE!!


beg. tease. submit. Sequence One 

(Songs of Submission) 

add to gr


This omni edition contains the three novellas of Sequence One. 


My name is Monica. I'm a singer born and raised in Los Angeles. I've stopped dating. When I cut a record, or win a Grammy, maybe then I'll be with someone, but every man in my past has done everything he could to make me submit myself to him, and it's gotten in the way of my career. I won't do it again. But there's Jonathan. He owns the high-rise hotel where I work, and he is gorgeous and charming. I refuse to fall in love with him, even though when he asks me to submit to him, I want nothing more.


 When Jonathan was gone I couldn't stop thinking about him, and the first thing he did when he got back was demand more of me. I'm willing to give him my body and my time, but I find myself giving up pieces of my heart. My career is on track, and even though I can't write a thing, I can sing. So I'll go to the art opening with him, because his ex wife will be there. I feel this need to protect him from hurt, though in bed, his domination brings me to my knees. This man is going to break me into a million little pieces. 


 "You're mine. The minute I told you to spread your legs and you did it, you were mine. When I told you to beg for it and you did, you were mine. When you put your hands behind your back without being told, I owned you. You never had to say a word. You are a natural submissive." No. God, no. My name is Monica, and no matter what Jonathan says, I am not submissive.

Purchase  beg. tease. submit. Sequence One (Songs of Submission):

 About CD Reiss:

CD ReissCD Reiss is a USA Today and Amazon bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up, she’s at the well, hauling buckets. Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere, but it did embed TV story structure in her head well enough for her to take a big risk on a TV series structured erotic series called Songs of Submission. It’s about a kinky billionaire hung up on his ex-wife, an ingenue singer with a wisecracking mouth; art, music and sin in the city of Los Angeles. Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and “hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to give the toilets a once-over every couple of weeks or chop a cord of wood. If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

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FIRE INSIDE (Chaos #2) by Kristen Ashley: Paperback Release Day Giveaway & Excerpt

FIRE INSIDE (A Chaos Novel #2)


Lanie Heron isn't looking for love-no surprise, considering her last serious relationship nearly got her killed. So when Lanie propositions Hop Kincaid, all she wants is one wild night with the hot-as-hell biker who patrols with the Chaos Motorcycle Club . . . 

For Hop, Lanie has always been untouchable. She's too polished and too classy for his taste. But when she gives Hop the once-over with her bedroom eyes and offers him a night in paradise, he can't say no. And he doesn't regret it when he finds that Lanie is the best thing that's ever happened to him-in or out of bed. Now the trick will be to convince her of that.


Hop came out of the bathroom to see Lanie on her feet on the other side of the bed, panties on, hands twisted behind her back putting her bra on. Again.
He didn’t say a word. He prowled to her, reached out an arm the second he was close, yanked her to him and fell to his back in the bed, taking her down with him.
“Hop—” she started, pushing her weight against his arms, but he slid her off him then wasted no time rolling over her and pinning her to his bed.
“Sleep,” he ordered when he caught her eyes in the weak dawn. “After rest, I’ll get coffee, we’ll juice up, then round four.”
She blinked and breathed, “Four?”
“Got lots more I want to do to you,” he informed her and watched her eyes go soft, sexier, then her teeth came out to graze her lush lower lip, also fucking sexy, and her arms slid around him.
But she asked, “What about Tack and Ty-Ty?”
“I’ll make sure the coast is clear,” he told her.
“But they’ll see my car,” she told him.
“I’ll move it,” he offered.
Her hand slid up his back, around his shoulder, and then to his neck where her thumb moved to stroke him.
Her touch was light but, fuck, it felt good. He’d never had a woman touch him in an unconscious way like that, just a touch, a stroke, giving something that meant nothing at the same time doing it without thinking about it meant everything.
“This is just supposed to be one night,” she reminded him quietly, but he saw it in her eyes. She didn’t even try to hide it. She’d bitten off more than she could chew.
He had too and he was nowhere near done eating.
She was cute. She was sweet. She was hot. She was better than he expected and he’d expected her to be pretty fucking good. All that wrapped in a package that gorgeous?
He was nowhere near done eating.
“Change of plans. A night and a morning and, maybe, an afternoon and, possibly, another night,” he amended, and her eyes got softer as her hand slid up to cup his jaw.
“I have to work,” she told him.
“Call off,” he told her.
“I can’t. I own the joint.” She explained something he knew, that she ran her own advertising agency. “And things are a bit crazy.”
Things were always crazy for Lanie. The woman lived crazy. She thrived on it. If there wasn’t crazy, she stirred it up because she couldn’t breathe without it.
“Babe,” he pressed his body into hers, “told you, got more I want to do to you.”



Kristen Ashley grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana, and has lived in Denver, Colorado, and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.

Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multigenerational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland, and Kristen grew up listening to the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon, and Whitesnake. Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music and love was a good way to grow up.  And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting b0etter.



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GIVEAWAY: What I Read March 16-28


**Don't forget to ENTER the Giveaway at the bottom**

My Bookshelf the Weeks of March 16-28, 2014:

After a myriad of mistakes and a devastating breakup, Lily Hamilton is no longer the impulsive, selfish person she had once been. Now, she longs for the chance to make it up to the one person she knows holds the key to her happiness. But can he get beyond who she was and love her for who she is now? Or is history destined to repeat itself?

Adam Carter has gone through his own metamorphosis. His days of serial monogamy are long gone, and he's been burying his hurt by dating women he has no intention of committing to. But when he sees Lily for the first time in months, he's reminded of the man he used to be; the man he wants to try and be again--for her.

Max Samson is on the downward spiral from hell. Drinking and meaningless sex have taken over his life once again, causing him to revert back to the man he'd been before Lily fell into his life. But when his mother invites Lily back into his world, he suddenly remembers how good it felt to have her there. Even if he might not get to keep her.

Find out how Lily gets her happily ever after in this final installment of her story. This book is recommended for mature audiences due to language and unbelievably awesome sexual content.

My Rating:

A no-nonsense female cop reluctantly teams up with the one man who makes her lose control in a deliciously sensual new novel from New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster... 

To bring down a sleazy abduction ring, Lieutenant Margaret "Margo" Peterson has set herself up as bait. But recruiting Dashiel Riske as her unofficial partner is a whole other kind of danger. Dash is 6'4" of laid-back masculine charm, a man who loves life—and women—to the limit. Until Margo is threatened, and he reveals a dark side that may just match her own.

Beneath Margo's tough facade is a slow-burning sexiness that drives Dash crazy. The only way to finish this case is to work together side by side…skin to skin. And as their mission takes a lethal turn, he'll have to prove he's all the man she needs—in all the ways that matter.

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There are two kinds of people in the world. The ones who look first, and the ones who leap. I’ve always been more of a looker. Cautious. A planner. That changed after I met Drew Evans. He was so persistent. So sure of himself – and of me.

But not all love stories end happily ever after. Did you think Drew and I were going to ride off into the sunset? Join the club. Now I have to make a choice, the most important of my life. Drew already made his –in fact, he tried to decide for the both of us. But you know that’s just not my style. So I came back to Greenville. Alone. Well, sort of alone....

What I've come to realize is that old habits die hard and sometimes you have to go back to where you began, before you can move ahead.

TWISTED picks up two years after Tangled’s end, and is told from Kate’s POV

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My name is Autumn Winters.

The truth is, that's the biggest lie I've ever told.

My real name is Olivia Redmund. Autumn Winters is the curtain I hide behind. You see, I write bestselling erotic romance novels. But my life is far from erotic. The only fantasy exists in my head.

The day I met Hunter Grayson, that all changed. A handsome stranger on a train who turned my world upside down, made me think and feel things I never knew were possible. 

But he's hiding, too. 

What happens when I slowly realize that who I truly am is more similar to who I'm pretending to be? I want to be brave enough to tell the world, but the fear is crippling.

Fear of myself. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what others will think.

But life is too short to be afraid.

And I'm so damn tired of hiding.

**This is an Adult Contemporary Romance and due to strong language and sexual content, is not intended for readers under the age of 18.**

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He thought I owned him. He thought he loved me, that I was enough. But this animal, this sex god who could drive me crazy and steal my heart in the same breath, he would never fully be mine. It was impossible. No one ever owned a God…

One year. I have one year to find out more about this man I am marrying. More about his family. More about our sex, and all of the dirty, delicious places it will take me.

I thought I’d spend this year making a decision. I never thought the decision would be taken from me, snatched right from my naive little hands.

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Hi, my name is Delilah Sampson, and I am a self proclaimed “frump girl.” My world came crashing down the day I walked in on my boyfriend having sex with my boss, rendering me single and jobless. A new job fell into my lap as the secretary of the gorgeous, rich, powerful, and mighty cocky controlling partner at Santino Law Firm. I spend my days trying to please a demanding boss, keeping my lustful thoughts to myself. Until one night, when my best friend drags me to a club, and I fall for a man whose true identity I will never know. 

See, at Club Masquerade, everyone wears a mask and a nametag with a fake name. Also, on your nametag is a number that you are assigned when you come into the club, which is linked to an in-house messaging system; no one is permitted to speak, which ensures that identities are kept secret. I meet my lover every Saturday at 9 pm sharp. We text and email constantly when we are not together, and I have somehow fallen in love with him. 

But, then there is Nick Santino. He is the partner that I can’t keep my eyes off. Unfortunately, the only reason he hired me is because he is not attracted to me and all my frump glory. Fortunately, for me, I am a kick ass secretary, so he keeps me around. Like many men in his position, Nick is used to getting what he wants, when he wants it; all without commitment, of course. 

So when he finds a woman that he is both physically and emotionally attracted to, he finds himself in unchartered territory – love. And I can do nothing but be jealous from the sidelines – lusting for a man I can’t have, and loving a man I can’t know.

Hey there, Delilah is book 1 of the Taboo Love series, in which we tackle the boss/secretary relationship. Each book will be a stand alone with a HEA, but will have a few reoccurring characters.

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Mal Ericson, drummer for the world famous rock band Stage Dive, needs to clean up his image fast—at least for a little while. Having a good girl on his arm should do the job just fine. Mal doesn’t plan on this temporary fix becoming permanent, but he didn’t count on finding the one right girl.

Anne Rollins never thought she’d ever meet the rock god who plastered her teenage bedroom walls—especially not under these circumstances. Anne has money problems. Big ones. But being paid to play the pretend girlfriend to a wild life-of-the-party drummer couldn’t end well. No matter how hot he is. Or could it?

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Pepper Pace's interracial fairytale is the story of Beast; a Marine with a destroyed face and a plus sized beauty who has identity issues. A lesson learned is that beauty is not what is on the outside...In this romance that is taken from the Beauty and the Beasts' fairytale, it will leave you questioning 'who is the beauty and who is the beast?'

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Rancher Destry Reeves is your typical country boy; he believes in hard work and the easy life. None of which he recognises in Amelia Highsmith.

When a chance encounter involving a cow, a truck and a dark Texan night puts the two on a collision course, it's not long before the fireworks begin and the simple life is turned upside down.

The last thing Amelia expects is for a brute of a cowboy to get in the way of her new life. She's left behind a world of high class dinners and city lights in an effort to escape a life she never wanted. Amelia finds herself in a world so far removed from home that it becomes impossible to break free without finding herself first.

Drawn together by an inexplicable attraction, Destry and Amelia must decide if such an unlikely pairing can ever survive

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Are you a member of The Blushing Reader Book Club?

The MARCH reader challenge is to read a book based ONLY on the Cover or Title!

I read these two for my challenge:

In APRIL our challenge is to dive in and dust off those books that have been on yourTBR pile the longest!  (I have some books that have be waiting since 2009!)


I will gift ONE lucky winner one of these ebooks that I have read this week.  This will end tonight (3/28/14) at 10pmEST!