Week-after-week, she visits Jock Row with her friends—the universities hottest party scene and breeding ground for student athletes. And if keeping her friends out of trouble, and guys out of their pants, was a sport, she'd be the star athlete.
Being a well known jock-blocker gets her noticed for all the wrong reasons; just like that, she's banned from Jock Row. NO GUY WANTS A GIRL AROUND WHO KEEPS THEIR JOCK FRIENDS FROM GETTING LAID.
"Rowdy" Wade is the hot shot short-stop for the university's baseball team—and the unlucky bastard who drew the short straw: keep little Miss Goody Two-Shoes out of the Baseball House.
But week-after-week Scarlett returns, determined to get inside.
Jesus Christ, she has a dimple in her damn cheek.
I’m a sucker for those.
She shoots me a tentative smile, ass parked on the stoop, back propped against the wooden siding of the house.
It’s obvious that she’s blushing by the way she ducks her head, glancing down at the floor, the soft glow from the two busted lamps illuminate the crown of her head.
The porch lights are busted and rusty, needing their bulbs changed, one flickering—the other just about to burn out. It makes the entire place look like a goddamn Halloween fun-house, casting a weird glow on the girl’s smooth, pale skin.
And her pretty dimple.
Stop staring at it, dipshit.
I cast my glance at her outfit, doing my best to analyze her under the dim lights; she must have been sweaty inside the house; I got a good look at her before convincing her to follow me, but still study her as if seeing her for the first time.
Both of her boots are tucked under her legs, and she sits, cross-legged on the ground. Blows out a frustrated puff of air that translates into a billowing stream of steam.
“So.” She wraps her puffed sleeved arms around her knees, hugging them tight. Shivers. “Now what?”
Her prim ponytail is jaunty, bobbing when she tilts her head to gaze over at me.
“Now I babysit you.”
“Lovely. We can bond.”
I position my large body against the railing, giving it a gentle shake to make sure it’s sturdy before supporting all my weight on it. It’s solid and secure and is going to get real uncomfortable real fucking fast if I have to stand here all night.
The girl raises her brows at me. They appear black in this light; full and arched expertly. “Have you babysat anyone before?”
“No one I managed to keep alive,” I joke. “A few cousins my parents forced me to watch a few times; never would feed them but would occasionally throw out a dog bone so they wouldn’t get hungry.”
She smiles, dimple denting the smooth right side of her face. “Is that what you have planned for me?”
I raise my empty hands. “I’m fresh out of Scooby snacks. Guess we’ll both have to starve.”
“Sorry you have to sit out here.”
“Really?” I sound hopeful. “No one is forcing you to sit out here.”
Her light laugh is quiet. “Fine. I guess I’m not that sorry.” She bites down on her lower lip. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying your discomfort—just a little bit.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte's, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm.
She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.
She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.
She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.
She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.
Title: I Dare You
Author: Ilsa Madden-Mills
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 29, 2018
Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills brings you a brand-new heartfelt, sexy contemporary romance with I DARE YOU.
Bad Ass Athlete: I dare you to…
Delaney Shaw: Who is this?
The late night text is random, but "Bad Ass Athlete" sure seems to know who she is…
Delaney Shaw.
Good girl.
Lover of fluffy kitties and Star Wars.
Curious.
His dare? Spend one night in his bed—a night he promises will be unforgettable—and she can solve the mystery of who he is.
She knows she shouldn't, but what else is she going to do with her boring Valentine's Day?
One sexy hook-up later, her mind is blown and the secret's out.
Maverick Monroe.
Bad boy.
The most talented football player in the country.
Just ask him.
Too bad for him Delaney's sworn off dating athletes forever after her last heartbreak.
But Maverick wants more than one night and refuses to give up on winning Delaney’s heart. She isn’t one to be fazed by a set of broad shoulders.
After the semester ends, will the bad boy land the nerd girl or will the secrets they keep from each other separate them forever?
Wall Street Journal, New York Times, and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap. She's best known for her angsty, heartfelt new adult college romances.
A former high school English teacher, she adores all things Pride and Prejudice; Mr. Darcy is her ultimate hero.
She's also addicted to frothy coffee beverages, Vampire Dairies, and any kind of book featuring unicorns and sword-wielding females.
Join her Unicorn Girls FB group for special excerpts, prizes, and snarky fun!
HOSTED BY:
Is there anything better than picking up a book and having it be exactly what you need to read. Not that I was in a slump so much as just wickedly busy and unable to get really sucked into anything I had picked up so far. But from the first page I was invested. I didn’t want to put it down and I sacrificed some of the very little sleep I have been getting just to finish it.
Delaney was just gorgeous. She was so comfortable being herself it was impossible not to love her. And it helped that she was so sweet and caring. She never once was anything but genuine and I loved that she didn’t try to change who she was to impress anyone. And even when things went against her she just rolled with it and didn’t let her affect who she was. I can honestly say in the same position I would not be so forgiving but then I am a vengeful bitch.
Maverick had moments of awesome that made me fall so hard for him that when he did stupid things I held my breath waiting for him to make it all ok so I could keep on loving him. Luckily for me I didn’t have to hold it for too long as he was pretty quick to own up to his mistakes and that just made me love him even more. And the way he loved his sister it was hard not to put him on a pedestal.
I loved everything about this book and I really can’t wait to see where the series is going to take us next.
Fortuity, the first in the all-new, emotional and romantic Fortuity Duet by Rochelle Paige, is available NOW!
Blurb
The only kinds of luck I knew were bad and worse...until my life hung in the balance. I finally caught a break in the form of a second chance.
I vowed not to let it go to waste.
To make a difference.
But I didn’t start really living until I met him.
Dillon Montgomery.
My complete opposite—except for our matching tortured souls.
I couldn’t resist him for long.
How could I when his smallest touch made my heart race?
When it felt like we were destined to be together.
But sometimes luck and sorrow are intertwined…
Excerpt
Dillon twisted his neck and flashed me an apologetic grin over his shoulder. Unwanted butterflies swirled in my belly, and I quickly yanked my hands away from his shoulders and took a step backwards. His eyes flashed with male satisfaction and his grin grew wider. Determined to ignore the impact he had on me, I shifted my focus to the students. “Your test date is coming fast, so you’ll need to squeeze in as much extra study time as you can without neglecting your regular coursework. Maybe set aside some time during Thanksgiving break when you don’t have as much homework.”
“Ugh. Studying over break sucks,” one of the girls complained.
“Yeah, but you guys are in the homestretch. This test score is one of the last things you need to get into college. Trust me, it’ll be worth the extra effort.”
“I guess if you could get into college while recovering from a transplant, then the least I can do is a little bit of studying over a holiday break that isn’t even that big of a deal since I don’t have a family to celebrate it with anyway.”
The other kids nodded in agreement, and I snuck a peek at Dillon while everyone finished packing up. His brown eyes were wide with shock. I quickly looked away before he could ask me anything, and focused on saying my goodbyes as the kids all headed out. We both kept quiet—for which I was incredibly grateful—as Dillon helped me clean up the room. When we were back on the road, I turned to him and asked, "Were you really teaching my kids how to count cards?”
His lips tilted up at the edges. “Maybe just a little.”
“It’s a good thing none of them have any money to gamble or else they might learn to enjoy blackjack as much as you do.” His lip tilt turned into a full-fledged grin, and I glared at him. “I don’t know why you’re grinning at me! Look at what your affinity for gambling got you.”
“What?” He pointed at his face. “The black eye?”
“Yeah, for starters.”
His grin grew into a blinding smile. “It was worth it.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s the reason I met you.”
Shit. Those damn butterflies took flight in my stomach again
“Ugh. Studying over break sucks,” one of the girls complained.
“Yeah, but you guys are in the homestretch. This test score is one of the last things you need to get into college. Trust me, it’ll be worth the extra effort.”
“I guess if you could get into college while recovering from a transplant, then the least I can do is a little bit of studying over a holiday break that isn’t even that big of a deal since I don’t have a family to celebrate it with anyway.”
The other kids nodded in agreement, and I snuck a peek at Dillon while everyone finished packing up. His brown eyes were wide with shock. I quickly looked away before he could ask me anything, and focused on saying my goodbyes as the kids all headed out. We both kept quiet—for which I was incredibly grateful—as Dillon helped me clean up the room. When we were back on the road, I turned to him and asked, "Were you really teaching my kids how to count cards?”
His lips tilted up at the edges. “Maybe just a little.”
“It’s a good thing none of them have any money to gamble or else they might learn to enjoy blackjack as much as you do.” His lip tilt turned into a full-fledged grin, and I glared at him. “I don’t know why you’re grinning at me! Look at what your affinity for gambling got you.”
“What?” He pointed at his face. “The black eye?”
“Yeah, for starters.”
His grin grew into a blinding smile. “It was worth it.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s the reason I met you.”
Shit. Those damn butterflies took flight in my stomach again
Download today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Preorder the stunning conclusion, Serenity, Today!
Amazon US | Amazon Universal | iBooks | Nook
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Rochelle Paige is the Amazon bestselling author of more than twenty books. She absolutely adores reading and her friends growing up used to tease her when she trailed after them, trying to read and walk at the same time. She loves stories with alpha males, sassy heroines, hot sex and happily ever afters. She is a bit of a genre hopper in both her reading and her writing. So far she's written books in several romance sub-genres including new adult, contemporary, paranormal and romantic suspense. She is the mother of two wonderful sons who inspired her to chase her dream of being an author. She wants them to learn from her that you can live your dream as long as you are willing to work for it.
CONNECT WITH THE AUTHOR:
Title: Love at Last
Author: Claudia Connor
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 24, 2018
Blurb
All new romance from New York Times Bestselling
Author Claudia Connor…
How many times can you be unlucky in love before you
decide it’s not luck, it’s you?
With her ex-groom's words, I’m in love with someone
else, still ringing in her ears, Clare Franklin flies off alone to her
would-be honeymoon. Forced to accept not everyone gets that happily ever after
she’s always dreamed of, she’s done with men. Until she gets tangled up, quite
literally, with one sexy veterinarian.
The only thing Dr Deacon Montgomery wants is to share his
surgical expertise and get back to his two year old twin daughters. But, the
connection he feels with Clare highlights just how alone he really is and makes
him wonder if he can be more than doctor and daddy.
Long talks and moonlit walks under the rustle of palms has Clare thinking maybe she gave up on love too soon. Until one phone call from home changes everything.
Long talks and moonlit walks under the rustle of palms has Clare thinking maybe she gave up on love too soon. Until one phone call from home changes everything.
Purchase Links
Excerpt
His wide, warm palm
grazed her lower back as they wove their way through the tables to the exit.
They crossed over the water garden in silence, slowing as they reached a fork
in the path.
“Which way?” Deacon
asked. “I’ll walk you back.”
“That’s sweet, but
you really don’t have to. It’s a five-star resort, not downtown Los Angeles.”
Deacon kept
walking. “True. But you know, I took you to dinner and all.”
She arched a brow
at him. “It’s also an all-inclusive resort. Maybe I took you.”
“Maybe you
did.”
He flashed her that
slightly lopsided grin that hit her right in the chest. She conceded to the
walk, and together, they followed the brick path. The resort was dark, but
lights along the sidewalk lit the path and shined up the skinny gray trunks of
the swaying palms. It was quiet, and when they didn’t pass even one other
person, she was glad he was walking her back.
She slowed as they
came to the breezeway leading to her building and pointed up the steps to the
second floor. “I’m up there, so…”
Deacon started up
the steps. “I’ll walk you to the door. I’m funny like that.”
She probably should
have said no, insisted that she could make it to her door on her own. Because
of course she could. But she didn’t insist, just followed enormously glad she’d
removed the HONEYMOON banner from her door.
They reached her
room, and she turned to face him. Just the two of them now, up here, alone at
her door. She felt a slight buzzing in her head that had nothing to do with
alcohol.
“Well, Clare of the
here and now.”
She rolled her eyes
at the reminder of her earlier word-vomit ramble. “It was nice to meet you.”
She stuck out her hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty.
“It was nice to
meet you, too.”
It didn’t feel like
a simple handshake as he wrapped his fingers around hers. “I had fun tonight.
You turned what might have been a horrible night into something surprisingly
nice.”
“I’m glad.”
“Thank you for
catching me and saving my top and for dinner and talking and…” And maybe she
could stoptalking.
“You’re welcome.”
A frog gave a low
croak, and another answered, but she figured the pounding of her heart was
louder.
The buzzing in her
head grew louder, and she felt dizzy from looking into his eyes and staring at
his lips because she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel those smooth,
firm lips on hers, to taste him and feel his arms around her.I'm losing my
mind.
“You’re beautiful,”
he said. “I’ve been wanting to say that all night.” He lifted his hand and
lightly brushed his thumb over her cheek.
Then he leaned in,
and she moved. Just…moved. In and up, her fingers twisting in the front of his
shirt. She was just falling into the taste of him, just getting that warm,
tingling flood of a first kiss when her brain fully registered that he’d been
leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“I’m sorry.” She
swallowed hard, felt a stinging heat flooding into her cheeks, and wished desperately
to disappear. Deacon was staring at her in complete confusion. That made two of
them. “I’m… really sorry.”
She spun to her
door. A stiff wind sang through the open-air hallway, slapping her hair across
her eyes. How she got her key in the lock, she had no idea. Mumbling one more
apology over her shoulder, she opened the door and closed it behind her. She
stood, heart pounding in mortification, her lips buzzing.
The champagne
glasses and fruit and cheese tray had been cleared. The bed had been turned
back, and the damn swans were back, nestled in the center of the bed and
kissing right on their terrycloth lips.
Author Bio
Claudia Connor is the author of the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling series, The McKinney Brothers. Her debut novel, WORTH THE FALL, hit the New York Times Bestsellers list in 2014 and received numerous Best Contemporary Romance of 2014 accolades.
Claudia attended Auburn University, where she received her undergraduate and master’s degrees in early childhood education. After teaching kindergarten and first grade for ten years, she retired to be a full-time mom to her three daughters. Always a lover of books, and always one to have stories playing in her mind, she decided to try her hand at writing. It took seven years to finish her first novel and a new love was born.
Claudia lives near Memphis, Tennessee with her husband, three daughters, two cats, and a singer-songwriter Siberian Husky. She continues to write warm, heartfelt, and emotional romances with a bit of steam, a lot of family and always a happily ever after.
Author Links
Blurb
Given his well-earned bad boy reputation, Eric is having a tough time scoring.. When single Jean moves to town, she seems heaven sent by the sex gods. Only problem is, she not only wants nothing to do with him, but it turns out that she’s pregnant.Starting over in a small town, Jean is determined to turn her wild lifestyle around and be the kind of mother she always wished she’d had. Since local bar owner and all round hottie, Eric Collins, is now determined to steer clear of her pregnant self, it should be easy. When she goes into labour during a snow storm and her car slides on some ice, it’s Eric who comes to the rescue.
There seems to be a bond between them now, but is it enough? And can Eric give up his manwhore ways to be the man Jean needs?
My Review
Excerpt
I’d been tricked. Betrayed.
After Andre and Jean ate their lunch, we headed outside to deal with her stuff. The cold wind suited my mood to perfection.
Talk about disappointed.
“Don’t lift that, it looks heavy,” I snapped.
Jean blinked. “It’s a pillow.”
“The world’s largest pillow ever. You can’t be too careful.” My gaze roamed over her swollen middle. “You’re . . .”
“Pregnant?” she asked with a voice dripping poison and sugar.
“Are you having trouble with the concept?”
“Absolutely not. I was just going to say huge, that’s all.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Thanks, Eric. That makes me feel so much better.”
“I just . . .”
“Don’t bother.” The woman turned back to her sensible, medium-sized SUV and got busy riffling through the contents. I was surprised she’d been able to squeeze into the driver’s seat.
Boxes and stuff took up almost every inch inside the vehicle. Each and every box seemed to have been neatly labeled with the contents.
The woman took her organization seriously. She looked over her shoulder. “You know, I can’t help noticing that Eric-the-smooth-moving-flirt has been suddenly replaced by Eric-the-awkward-jerk.”
“Well, you said you were single.” I folded my arms defensively across my chest.
“I am.”
And then there was an awkward silence.
“Yeah, but . . . I mean, in your condition . . .” I fumbled to a halt.
She turned, face all scrunched up. Like I was the one with the problem.
“Just hop out of the way so I can grab some boxes,” I said, voice gruff.
Still nothing from her. “It’s a second-story walk-up and you have a lot of stuff to get up there. You should be taking it easy.” Hands on hips, I tapped my black leather boot against the sidewalk, waiting her out. “Jean, I’m not trying to insult you. It’s the truth.”
She swore quietly, going back to fussing with the contents in the vehicle. I don’t think any woman has ever given me the silent treatment quite this quickly. Usually I’m good for at least a couple of hours after seeing them naked.
Man, I still couldn’t believe this was happening. God hated me or something. Pregnant women and me were enema. Anathema. Whatever. Now that I’d seen her out in the autumn light, however, she looked younger than I’d first guessed. Despite her tired eyes, her skin was smooth, soft looking. She was likely closer to her early twenties than mid.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Why do you care?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Just curious.”
“How old are you?”
“Nearly thirty.”
She sniffed. “I’m twenty-two.”
Young, like I’d thought. She was probably too immature for me, anyway.
“Come on, Jean. Let me get some of the boxes.”
Boyd ambled out of the Dive Bar, turning his head this way and that, looking up and down the street. I raised my hand and he started over in our direction. The big cook would make short work out of moving all this stuff. Behind us, Andre and Nell came out of the tenants’ entrance to the Bird Building. The place was a big brick building about a hundred years old. Just past the door was an entryway with stairs leading up to the second floor, followed by two empty shops, their windows covered in flyers about local events. Concerts and parades and shit. They’d been vacant for a while, unfortunately. Andre’s Guitar Den came next, then Pat’s tattoo parlor Inkaho, and the Dive Bar on the corner.
“Everything’s good to go. Alex and I gave it a cleaning last week just to be sure,” said Nell, smacking a kiss on Jean’s cheek.
“You’ll meet Alex later. She’s probably busy working or something now. She’s sort of a shut-in.”
“You two didn’t have to do that,” said Jean. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
Andre leaned against the SUV. “Your furniture got delivered yesterday too, so it’s all good to go.”
“Excellent,” said Jean. “I can’t wait to sleep in a decent bed again. Road trips when you’re seven months’ pregnant kind of suck.”
“I bet.”
“Who’s minding the kitchen?” I asked.
“Lydia will text Boyd if they need something,” said Nell.
“We’re only going to be a few feet away from the place.”
I frowned.
“I own the kitchen, Eric. Not you,” she said. “You’re in charge of the bar, that’s all.”
One of Jean’s eyebrows inched up slightly. So I might have implied that I was the sole owner. Shit happened.
I crossed my arms. “Fine. No need to bite my head off.”
“My best online friend just moved to town. We’ve been texting and skyping for months. She’s been an absolute rock for me through all the nerves of being pregnant again,” said Nell. “Stop messing with my happy.”
And then there was an awkward silence. Great. If only there was some way to get out of helping without looking like a raging asshole. The possibility of anything happening between me and Jean had been buried six feet deep, never to be spoken of again.
About the Author
Kylie is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author. She was voted Australian Romance Writer of the year, 2013 & 2014, by the Australian Romance Writer’s Association and her books have been translated into eleven different languages. She is a long time fan of romance, rock music, and B-grade horror films. Based in Queensland, Australia with her two children and husband, she reads, writes and never dithers around on the internet. You can learn more about Kylie from http://www.kylie-scott.com/
FACEBOOK | TWITTER | FB FAN PAGE | IG | GOODREADS
Subscribe to:
Posts
(Atom)
