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Showing posts with label September 2018 Book Releases. Show all posts
Showing posts with label September 2018 Book Releases. Show all posts
Friday, September 14, 2018

EXCERPT REVEAL: Perversion by T.M. Frazier

Kindle Crack Book Reviews Blog

USA Today bestselling author of the King Series, T.M. Frazier, brings you an all new trilogy with an anti-hero you’re going to love to hate and a ballsy heroine with tricks up her sleeve.

PERVERSION, book one in the all-new Perversion Trilogy is coming September 25th and we have the first sneak peek for you! 

Synopsis 

Love is supposed to be magical.
Ours is suicidal.
The first time I met Emma Jean Parish,
she conned me into taking her p*ssy.
Her cat.
When she was sixteen,
she manipulated me into giving her
her very first kiss.
At eighteen she gave me everything.
She's a con artist.
I'm a criminal.
I use her.
She manipulates me.
The attraction between us is explosive.
When it detonates
we could both wind up dead.

PERVERSION IS BOOK ONE IN THE PERVERSION TRILOGY
BOOK TWO: POSSESSION
BOOK THREE: PERMISSION

Pre-order your copy of PERVERSION today! 

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/perversionGR 

Excerpt: 

Emma Jean
When I was younger, I fell in love with magic. I learned every card trick there was from library books and unmasking magic TV specials. I used to put on shows for Gabby that included escaping from complicated knots and trick handcuffs. But what’s magic besides a sleight of hand? 
It’s a lie. 
And lying is what I’m damn good at. 
My ability to spin a tall tale or two lead to stealing wallets and conning people into taking stray pets for the thrill of it. Now, I’m using it to earn for Marco. The thrill is there, but it’s muted, hindered, lost under his pile of mounting threats. 
The inside of the casino smells like stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and burnt coffee. We’re not supposed to be in here. It’s Bedlam territory. But that’s also why it’s perfect. 
It isn’t like anyone would recognize us here. 
We’ve made friends with a few of the cocktail waitresses by giving them a small cut, and they don’t ask questions or ring any alarms when they see us working. I’ve also been straightening my hair over the last few years since my crazy curls stand out like a reflector on a dark highway. I’ve dyed it a few shades darker than my normal honey blonde to help blend in.  
Tonight is starting off well. Gabby and I are working a con we’ve run a few times before. 
Gabby walks away, her long dark hair swooshing behind her. She gives me a nod as she passes me by on the slot machine I’m pretending to play. She’s just faked losing an expensive engagement ring at another slot machine. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she frantically looked around for it, then loudly announced a thousand-dollar reward would be waiting at the casino cage for whoever returned it. 
She is flawless. She should be an actress. And in another life, she would be. 
But we don’t live in another life. 
We live in Lacking and belong to Los Muertos. 
Our lives are not our own. 
A few people casually look around the area, then return to their machines when they don’t find the ring Gabby was ranting about. They won’t either. Because it’s not there. 
Yet.  
It's go time. 
I strut over to the area Gabby just left and put a dollar in the machine. While the wheels spin, I pretend to pick up the dime store ring I already have in my hand. By the time the machine dings to tell me I’ve lost my dollar, I’m turning the ring over, inspecting it like I don’t have half a dozen more just like it in my drawer back at the apartment. 
“Would you look at that?” I mutter to myself loud enough so others around me can hear.  
A man in an Adidas jumpsuit with a potbelly taps me on the shoulder. “I’ll take that. I saw the woman who dropped it. I’ll go return it to her.” 
Liar. You just want the reward. 
“That’s so nice of you,” I say. I hold it out, about to drop it into his hand when I pull it back. “I bet there’s a reward for something this valuable.” I start to walk around the man. “I’ll take it up to management. Maybe, they know…” 
“Here,” the man says, holding up a hundred-dollar bill. “Take this. I’ll take it to her. I just…you know, as I said, I want to make sure it gets back to the right person.” 
You’re not even a good liar. 
Sometimes, it’s just too freaking easy. And this scam wasn’t even an Emma Jean and Gabby original. We saw it a long time ago in a movie starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. Doesn’t anyone else watch movies? 
I shrug and pass him the ring. Plucking the bill from his hand, I tuck it into my bra. “Thanks,” I say before quickly making my way toward the large glass front doors. It’s Thursday. Marco’s money is due in two days, and we’re short this week. 
Really short. 
I walk slowly and wave goodbye to the valets with a smile on my face. “Any luck, tonight?” One asks me. 
“I think so,” I answer with a smile. Once I’m down the sidewalk and out of view, I scramble to the side of the casino where I kick off my heels and change from the sequined dress I’d stolen from a dry-cleaner into a pair of cut-off shorts and my yellow Keds. 
Now, all I have to do is wait for Gabby.  
I don’t have to wait long. 
“Run!” Gabby yells, darting from the doors of the casino with two large men wearing tight black security t-shirts close behind. Running from security is terrifying enough, knowing that we’re running from members of the Bedlam Brotherhood kicks it up a notch. 
I grab my backpack and sling it across my shoulders. I move as fast as I can until I’m running right alongside her. We race through the gates, cross the street, narrowly avoiding being hit by two cars. We duck into a hole in a fence and run through one backyard after the other. 
“One of those cunt waitresses must have tipped them off!” Gabby says, through shallow breaths. She’s barefoot in a black mini-dress hiked up to her ass to give her long legs room to run. Her long thick hair is wrapped around her face, sticking to her mouth. 
We hit the sixth backyard. Without another word, we separate behind a clothesline. We’ve mapped out this escape plan a thousand times, but this is the first time we’ve ever had to use it. 
When I make it into the central part of town, to the Los Muertos/Bedlam border, I can no longer hear the shouts of the security guards. I lost them. 
Hopefully, Gabby did, too.
I use a tower of stacked-up wooden pallets on the sidewalk like a ladder to scale a concrete wall, then drop down into the alley.
I grow more panic-stricken the longer I wait for Gabby. I bite the inside of my lip, pacing back and forth along the high wall. The Bedlam Brotherhood runs the security at the casino. If they catch her and find out who she is? Or worse? Who her brother is? They'll... I shake the thought from my mind. She’ll be fine. 
She HAS to be fine. 
Please be okay, Gabby. Please. 
I’m trying to catch my breath and pull myself together when I hear a clink echo through the alley as if someone dropped some spare change, followed by the sound of something heavy dropping to the asphalt.
“Gabby?” I ask into the darkness. Thinking it’s her, relief washes over me like rain on a barren desert.  
My only answer is the flickering of a fluorescent light mounted high on the roof’s edge of the adjoining building. And the hiss of what sounds like a cat behind a dumpster. 
I walk over and peer around it.  “Gabby? Are you hurt? Say something!” I whisper-shout. 
Someone moves from within the shadow.  “Get out here, Gabby. We’ve got to go before Mar…” 
The light flickers again, for just a second. That second is all I need to see that the someone slowly stalking toward me is not Gabby.  
It’s a man…twice my size. 
“Who are you?” I ask, shuffling backward as the man cloaked in a black leather hood emerges from the shadows. The front of his jacket is open. Underneath, he's shirtless, covered in a sheen of sweat, and more tattoos than visible skin all the way up the front of his throat. His muscled chest and abs flex with each step he takes. The hood shadows most of his face, but when the lights flicker again, yellow eyes glow from within. 
And they’re locked on me. 
My ‘save your ass’ mode kicks in. 
The man is blocking the only exit. My only other chance of escape is to scale the same wall I used to drop into the alley. 
I keep moving backward as he approaches until my back hits the wall. I look left and right for something to use to climb on. 
There’s nothing but emptiness. 
My stomach sinks, but surrender is not an option. 
I swallow hard as the alarm bells scream in my head for me to run. Somewhere. Anywhere. 
There’s nowhere to go! 
My legs tremble. Fear crawls like a million spiders along the backs of my legs. I push myself further against the wall as if I can squish the feeling away, but it’s useless. 
Fear consumes me. Swallows me whole. 
He continues toward me. As he gets closer, I realize it’s not just sweat glistening on his skin. There’s something else splattered across the tattoos on his chest and on his stubbled jaw.  
It almost looks like wet paint. 
My breathing stops when he’s close enough that I can make out the tattoo on the front of his throat. 
A bleeding black rose. 
The symbol of the Bedlam Brotherhood. 
I’ve heard stories about Grim. The man in the hood. The executioner for Bedlam. They were all terrifying, but not nearly as terrifying as the reality of coming face to face with the man himself. 
“We didn’t do anything,” I blurt. “I mean, we did, but it wasn’t a big deal. I’ll…I’ll give the money back. Just tell your men not to hurt my friend. It was all my idea. Let her go, and you can take me.”  
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks. His voice is so thick and deep I feel it more than hear it. Shivers erupt all over my body. 
He raises his arm, revealing a long curved blade.
For the first time in my life, I can’t seem to be able to hide my fear with my wit or sarcasm. My throat tightens. I can’t swallow, never mind speak. I’ve lost my words completely, along with my nerve. 
The man’s blade drips red onto the pavement from the serrated tip. 
Every fear response I didn’t even know I had runs rampant. I’m holding my breath. My muscles tense as if running was still an option. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck prickle my skin as they stand on end. I raise up to my tip-toes and push back, trying to make myself disappear into the wall. 
I glance from the knife back to his chest, then back again. The splatters across his skin? 
It’s not fucking paint. 
Before I can process what the hell is happening, he switches from slow-stalking mode into hyper-speed, pinning my wrists above my head. His hard, bloodied chest pushes against me, smearing blood across my white tank top, forcing the back of my head to connect roughly with the wall.  
“I’ll only ask you this one more time. Who the fuck are you?” His low guttural growl rattles my bones. 
His unblinking, angry, golden eyes lock onto mine. Without the fluorescent light, they’re more golden brown than a glowing yellow. As much as I want to, I can’t look away. He could be the last person I ever see. 
The thought is just the spike of adrenaline I need. 
“Let me go,” I say, finally finding my words. I try and jerk my wrists from his grip with no luck. I’m trapped. My fear and anger rise to the surface, but I shove it back down. Fear won’t get me out of this situation, so it will have to wait for its damned turn. 
He digs his rough fingers into my skin. “Answer me. Who the fuck are you?” 
The bite of pain only makes me angrier. I throw his question back at him. “Who the fuck are you?”   
He glances down at my rapidly rising and falling chest before pinning me with his stare. The corner of his mouth tugs up in a half-smirk. 
“So much confidence for someone who's trembling,” he says with an amused glint shining in his demonic eyes. 
I shrug. “Maybe, I’m just not a fan of enclosed spaces,” I say through gritted teeth. 
“You didn’t answer me,” he says. 
“Why do you have blood all over you?” I answer him with yet another question. “You know, if you were committing some kind of crime back there, you should be more careful. I recommend a bleach bath and death by fire for your clothes the first chance you get. If it’s self-harm, I’m sure there’s a helpline you can call.”
He cocks his head to the side. His nostrils flare. His face is only inches away. I can feel the heat from his body against mine. His cool breath flutters against my neck. 
I’ve never been this close to a man before. My trembling grows. My inner thighs shake sending a rippling wave of something very unfamiliar coursing through the center my body.  I try and press my legs together to stop it from happening again, but when he uses his knee to wedge my legs apart, caging me in even further, it only grows, uncoiling from within like a slinky being pulled apart at the ends.  
I swallow hard as the stubble of his jaw presses against my neck. 
“Name,” he demands, his voice raspier than before. 
I shut my eyes tight for a beat, trying to gain composure, control, something that will help me as I try and reason my way out of this. “Listen, I didn’t see anything,” I blurt. “That is if you did anything. I’m not going to call the police if that’s what you're worried about. I wouldn’t anyway, even if I saw something, which I didn’t.” 
His brows knit together in a harsh line. “Why?” 
His question confuses me. 
“Why what?” 
“Why wouldn’t you tell the police?” 
Because Marco owns them. 
“Let’s just say that I haven’t exactly been a model citizen myself tonight. Let’s face it. If the police around here weren’t being paid not to do their jobs, half this town would be locked up.” I take a deep, shaky breath. “Especially people like us.”  
He stills. There’s no more talking. Only heavy breathing and a battle of wills. He releases one of my hands. I think he’s reaching for his knife. My blood turns cold. I can feel my face pale as my heart starts beating as faster and faster as if it wants to get in as many as possible before the end. 
I’m surprised when he doesn’t go for his knife. Instead, his hand travels slowly down my chest into my cleavage. 
“No, don’t!” I say, but it’s too late, he’s already yanked on my locket.
“Please just give it back, and let me go,” I plead. Feeling like it’s my real heart he's torn from my chest. “It’s the only thing in this world that means anything to me. Besides my best friend, it’s all I have.” 
I hate the desperation in my voice, but it’s the truth. 
He’s silent for a moment. He raises his arms. I flinch, raising my arms over my face defensively. But when nothing happens, I lower them, just in time to see him push back his hood, revealing his face.  
“Why?” I ask, closing my eyes knowing full well that the only time a criminal reveals himself to a witness is right before they take them out. 
“Look at me,” he demands, holding my face in his hand.  
“No!” I say, shutting my eyes tighter. 
“Look at me!” he bellows. He’s on me again. This time, he holds my head in his large rough hands. “Open your fucking eyes so you can see me.” 
With no other choice than to get my head squished like a turtle under a car tire, I do as he demands. Opening my eyes, I blink through the haze, and when it clears, I’m met with tousled, medium-length, light brown hair, slicked back on the top, shorn close to head on the sides. His nose is slightly crooked like it’s been broken a few times before. The stubble on his square, defined jaw is a few days over needing a shave. A jagged scar runs through his chin like an angry white lightning bolt. 
He’s the most fucking beautifully terrifying man I’ve ever seen. 
He’s searching my eyes for something, but I don’t know what. 
“Why?” I ask in a whisper.   
His hands release mine, but he doesn’t step back. He leans in closer, speaking against my cheek in a rumble of a whisper. The strange feeling from earlier comes back as a zap of electricity bouncing around my insides looking for somewhere to ground. 
I’m breathing heavy. Our lips are so close, almost touching. He slides one hand off my face, snaking it around my neck, pulling me closer. He starts to answer in a rumble of a whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on my already prickled skin. “Because I want you to see the face of the man who’s just—”    
“Where the fuck are you?” calls Gabby from the other side of the wall. “I lost them!” 
The moment, whatever it is, is now broken. The man releases me so suddenly I brace myself against the wall to keep from falling. I turn my head toward her voice. 
“Gabby!” I shout back. 
My heart is beating out of control. Out of habit, I raise my hand to my chest, seeking familiar comfort. 
I look up.  The man in the hood is gone. 
And so is my locket.

About the Author 
Kindle Crack Book Reviews

T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier never dreamed that a single person would ever read a word she wrote when she published her first book. Now, she is a five-time USA Today bestselling author and her books have been translated into numerous languages and published all around the world. 

T.M. enjoys writing what she calls sexy ‘wrongside of the tracks romance’ with morally corrupt anti-heroes and ballsy heroines. 

Her books have been described as raw, dark and gritty. Basically, what that means, is while some authors are great at describing a flower as it blooms, T.M. is better at describing it in the final stages of decay. 

She loves meeting her readers, but if you see her at an event please don’t pinch her because she's not ready to wake up from this amazing dream. 

Connect with T.M. Frazier 
Facebook: http://bit.ly/TMFRAZIERBOOKS 
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2JWHAv8
GoodReads: https://amzn.to/2OjmESr
Join Frazierland:http://bit.ly/frazierland 
BookBub: https://bit.ly/2xtlQ4u
Twitter: @TM_Frazier
Stay up to date with T.M. by signing up for her mailing list: http://bit.ly/TMFrazier 

For Text Alerts: TEXT “TMFRAZIER” TO 77948
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Monday, September 10, 2018

GIVEAWAY + EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: Block Shot by Kennedy Ryan

Check out this exclusive excerpt from Block Shot by Kennedy Ryan. Don't forget to enter Kennedy's incredible giveaway and read my spoiler-free review below! 

Kindle Crack Book Reviews Blog

$2.99 release price ends soon!
Read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2wVM54B
Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2IbeQOU


EXCERPT:
A few quick steps bring Banner back immediately in front of me and she pokes her sharp little nail into my chest. “Block that.”
She blocked my shot.
I knew what it meant seeing her leave Lamont’s room, but it’s only when she voices it that I truly appreciate what a masterful move this is.
“Karma’s a bitch, huh?” she asks, satisfaction stretching her mouth into a wide smile.
“Apparently, she’s not the only one,” I reply admiringly.
Her smile holds, but her eyes narrow and frost over.
“Remember this bitch next time you and your pride of lions think about insulting me,” she spits, lightning in her eyes, thunder in her voice. “Or assuming I got where I am any way other than hard work. Remember this moment when I handed you your ass, Foster.”
Her anger, her indignation hit me with a blast of heat that burns through all my reasons and rationale and excuses to cover up what I have known deep down.
This woman is my match.
She is bright and good. And I can be dark, bad when I have to be. Sometimes when I don’t have to be, but just want to be. She is day and I am night. When day and night are absolutely equal, it’s equinox. Banner is my equinox. My equal. The revelation rattles around inside me, but my face, my surface remains smooth.
The game we’re playing just changed, and she doesn’t even know it. Banner is smarter than I am, but my gut is better. My instincts are sharper. I’m a weather vane. I feel shifts in the air, sense coming storms before she does. That sentience is my greatest advantage.
“So how’d you do it?” I ask easily, not missing a beat and giving nothing away.
“Effortlessly.” She angles a look up at me that is both withering and full of pity. “While you were entertaining Cousin It at strip clubs, I was talking to Lamont’s mother.”
I lean back against the closed door to listen. I really don’t care how she did it. I just want her to stay a few minutes longer so I can take my time appreciating every magnificent inch of her.
“Ahhh.” I nod and turn down the corners of my mouth. “His mother back in Atlanta.”
“I flew there straight from Denver, actually. Even attended a Sunday service and helped pay for the church’s new roof.”
“Wow.” I don’t care about the church’s roof. “You pulled out all the stops.”
“They really did need that new roof.”
She smirks and turns to leave, but I cuff her wrist with my hand to stop her. Her surprised glance collides with mine over her shoulder. I subtly tighten around the delicate bones of her wrist, push away from the door, and step into her comfort zone, close enough for our scents to mingle and our breaths to mix in the tiny bit of space I’m allowing. I’m crowding her, but I don’t care. Every minute that passes, I care less about Lamont Christopher, and his cousin and his mama, and their church and their roof.
“You really showed me,” I say, pitching my voice low and dipping my head until our foreheads almost touch, intimacy cocooning us in the open, in the hallway. Her pulse sputters through the warm skin under my fingers. Her breath catches and her eyelashes flutter in rapid blinks. She swallows, the muscles of her throat working under the velvety skin. I’d love to sink my teeth into that tendon; to mark the slim column of her neck. I want her to wear me and carry my scent everywhere she goes. She’s the only one who has ever stirred anything primal in me.
Her eyes shift from my hand encompassing her wrist to my face, a mask I’ve smoothed free of all the urges and feelings and things roiling under the surface. She tugs at her wrist, but I don’t relent.
“Let me go.” Her voice is husky, but calm.
“Of course,” I say politely, releasing her.
With one last searching glance, the one trying to figure out what’s changed, what’s going on, she turns and leaves.
I’ll let you go, Banner.
For now.


Enter this incredible release giveaway! 
SIGNED PAPERBACK, $25 GIFT CARD, HUSTLE TUMBLER, GIRL BOSS JOURNAL & PENCIL LIP BALM, BLOCK SHOT CANDLE 
Kindle Crack Book Reviews Blog



a Rafflecopter giveaway


REVIEW OF BLOCK SHOT
Block Shot (Hoops, #2)

Block Shot by Kennedy Ryan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

description

I found myself wide awake at 1:30am the other morning after finishing Block Shot and knew that I was going to have a book hangover. After digesting all of my emotions, I knew that Kennedy Ryan blocked my shot at a chance of recuperating from my hangover anytime soon. This emotion-packed, second-chance romance was heartfelt and hot! I’m not going to regurgitate the synopsis and don’t want to spoil anyone's experience.

Banner and Jared's story is a journey of the heart and soul. Their story began in college and progressed into their 30’s. I usually fall head over heels for the hero and not the heroine. Banner's character represents every woman in such a real and relatable way. She’s strong, weak, smart, vulnerable and a force to be reckoned with. She’s not perfect, she’s human. She’s been burned in the past and she doesn’t trust Jared. She doesn’t comprehend why Jared would want her.

“Guys like Jared Foster don’t proposition girls like me in laundromats. Don’t get me wrong, I think he likes me. A lot. We laugh every time we’re together. Our conversations are stimulating. No one challenges me more in a debate. He’s the smartest guy I know, but he also looks like a handsome ski instructor who traded in the slopes for an Ivy League campus.”

“I can’t resist. I turn my back to the mirror and stare at my ass. Accepting myself as I am doesn’t mean I won’t work to improve and be the best version of myself inside and out.”

Jared is ruthless, complicated and cocky. He knows who he is and he owns it in an unapologetic way. There were times I wanted him to forget about Banner and move on. But what these two shared was magical, nuclear and once in a lifetime HOT!

“But he’s not wrong about survival of the fittest,” I clarify. “That’s real. Most sports agents are assholes. Mercenary. Cutthroat. Ruthless. I’m perfectly suited for it and plan to be the best asshole in the game.”

This book touched my heart in so many ways. Block Shot was nothing short of epic! I was in awe of Kennedy’s writing after reading the Flow, Grip and Still. Grip series. Then she wowed me with Long Shot. Now, I’m blown away by Block Shot. Block Shot is a standalone in the Hoop series and not to be missed! Take a shot on one-clicking one of my favorite books of 2018 and beyond.

This review appears on www.kindlecrack.net, www.facebook.com/kindlecrack, Kindle Crack Book Reviews Daily Fix group https://www.facebook.com/groups/Kindl..., Goodreads, Amazon, Pinterest, Google+ and Twitter. A review copy of this book was kindly provided by the author in exchange for an honest review.



About Kennedy
A Top 30 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy Ryan writes about women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the center of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.

She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine and Frolic, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director of a foundation serving Atlanta Autism families, she has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for families living with autism.

Connect with Kennedy:
Never Miss A Release!
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Website: http://kennedyryanwrites.com
Friday, September 7, 2018

NEW ROMANCE BOOK RELEASE REVIEW: Dirty Headlines by L.J. Shen

Dirty Headlines, an all-new sexy, enemies-to-lovers romance from bestselling author L.J. Shen is LIVE! Check out my spoiler-free review. This book is FREE in Kindle Unlimited.
Kindle Crack Book Reviews Blog

"Dirty Headlines is a fantastic enemies to lovers office romance with a perfect filthy asshole hero that I wish I'd written myself." - Laurelin Paige, New York Times bestselling author 

Célian Laurent.
Manhattan royalty.
Notorious playboy.
Heir to a media empire.
…And my new boss.

I could have impressed him, if not for last month’s unforgettable one-night stand.
I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory—namely, his wallet.
Now he’s staring me down like I’m the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I’m supposed to take it.
But the thing about being Judith “Jude” Humphry is I have nothing to lose.
Brooklyn girl.
Infamously quirky.
Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch.
When he looks at me from across the room, I see the glint in his eyes, and that makes us rivals.
He knows it.
So do I. 
Every day in the newsroom is a battle.
Every night in his bed, war.
But it’s my heart at stake, and I fear I’ll be raising the white flag.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited! 
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/DirtyHeadlines 

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2GuCKIB

Review of Dirty Headlines
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
OMG LOVED THIS BOOK!
“All I’m saying is he’s like a half-priced facelift in an unregistered clinic in Eastern Europe. I would still do it, even knowing it’s deadly.”

Dirty Laundry by L.J. Shen is easily one of my top reads of 2018.  This enemies-to-lovers romance managed to tug at my heart, fog up my Kindle screen and make me laugh more than a few times. I’m obsessed with this addictive new release. I couldn’t get enough of dirty talking Célian and his razor-sharp wit. Good lord, he was such a character. Célian was the epitome of the sexy and smart alpha beast.  Much like Jude, I hated and loved Célian.

Jude had no intention of falling for her one-night-stand turned nasty boss.  Jude thought she was going to be lonely forever. She never expected to fall for such an uber sexy prick like Célian.

“She said a lonely heart—such as my lonely heart—would never fall in love, and so far, she wasn’t wrong. Maybe that’s why tonight happened. Maybe that’s why I’d stopped trying.”

When Célian’s virtual fangs came out along with his venomous comments, he would either cut you in half, or devour your mind, body, and soul.

“I wanted to marry Lily slightly less than I wanted to fuck a cactus on live television.”

Célian had his eye on the prize.  He was going to take the helm of his family's media company at any cost.  He trusted no one, especially with his heart.   He had a heart.  Right? Buried underneath all of Célian's savage snark he had a heart of gold.  Is he is he worthy of Jude's love?

"Every relationship you touch wilts. Every connection you make perishes. I don’t want to burn. I want to flourish. I deserve to bloom.”

Will a few too many dirty little secrets and lies keep Jude and Célian from a headline-worthy relationship?  I’ll never tell.   You need to one-click this book on 9/7.


description


About LJ Shen:
L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.
Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets people's’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.
She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.


Connect with L.J. Shen: 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorljshen/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lj_shen
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Stay up to date with L.J. Shen by signing up for her mailing list:
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Website: http://www.authorljshen.com/
Thursday, August 30, 2018

SNEAK PEEK: Read an excerpt from Dirty Headlines by L.J. Shen

Kindle Crack Book Reviews Blog

Dirty Headlines, an all-new sexy, enemies-to-lovers romance from USA Today bestselling author L.J. Shen is coming September 7th and we have the first sneak peek! 

Synopsis:

Célian Laurent.
Manhattan royalty.
Notorious playboy.
Heir to a media empire.
…And my new boss.
I could have impressed him, if not for last month’s unforgettable one-night stand.
I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory—namely, his wallet.
Now he’s staring me down like I’m the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I’m supposed to take it.
But the thing about being Judith “Jude” Humphry is I have nothing to lose.
Brooklyn girl.
Infamously quirky.
Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch.
When he looks at me from across the room, I see the glint in his eyes, and that makes us rivals.
He knows it.
So do I. 
Every day in the newsroom is a battle.
Every night in his bed, war.
But it’s my heart at stake, and I fear I’ll be raising the white flag.

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2GuCKIB

Excerpt: 

He had an American accent. Not French. American.Smooth. Familiar. Ordinary. He fired out sentences at the speed of light. I heard him, but I couldn’t listen. Shock gripped my body as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. My dirty one-night stand was my boss. My lying, American boss. And now I had to deal with that—hopefully for a very long time, because I desperately needed this job.
Someone snapped their fingers, and my gaze shot from Célian’s face to Grayson. 
His forehead had crumpled into a frown. “You look like you’re trying hard not to cry or having a really intense orgasm. I’m hoping for you that it’s the latter and some kind of a weird-slash-awesome condition. You okay?”
I nodded, scraping up a smile. “Sorry. Zero orgasms happening under this dress. I just zoned out for a second.”Lies. I was about to orgasm just remembering how good Célianhad felt parting my thighs with his big, callused hands and dipping his tongue into my slit.
Then words stopped streaming down on everyone’s heads like a scalding shower, and I realized that indeed there was something worse than hearing Célianspeak in his perfect American English. And that was not hearing him speak at all. Because now the icicles were pointed at me like a cocked gun.
I glanced up to meet his gaze. He stared at me for exactly one second before his focus snapped to Grayson. “Am I understood, Gregory?” he asked.
Gregory?
“Crystal clear, sir,” Grayson bowed, his voice trembling at the edges.
Célian jerked his chin toward me. “Your cover girl material is going downhill.”
God. Damn. Bastard.
He recognized me, and I knew it. His eyes had kindled, melting the ice and growing darker the minute our gazes mingled. He remembered, and maybe it killed him that I was here in the same way it buried me.
I want my iPod back, my gaze told him. I had over three thousand songs on that thing, and they were all too good to be wasted on that jerk.
“Jude Humphry. Junior reporter. It’s her first day,” Grayson highlighted, almost pleadingly. He shifted in my direction, as if he might need to physically protect me from the sharp-tongued, suited monster.
I suppressed a smile when I realized I’d told Célianmy last name was Spears. Well, he certainly wasn’t a Timberlake. He was a Laurent. An American monarch through and through. A billionaire, a powerful force, and judging by our one and only encounter—a raging playboy. 
This man was inside you, I internally shrieked. And not just once. His cock was buried so deep in you, you screamed. You can still taste the salty, earthy flavor of his cum.You know he has a freckle on his lower back. You know what sound he makes when he empties inside a woman.
I internally thanked my mind for ruining my panties in public, and nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” I offered him my hand, my face flushing with embarrassment at my choice of words.
Everyone was looking at us, and there were at least fifty people in the room. Célian—if that was even his name—ignored my outreached hand. Instead, he turned his face to the man beside him. “Mathias, any other words of wisdom?”
Mathias? Wasn’t that his father? Just how cold was the man with the icy blue eyes?
“I think you touched everything,” said the big boss—and he did have a heavy French accent, so at least the lie had a seed. Mathias stared at me placidly, like he could read the secret his son and I shared on my face. 
Célian spun toward me, uncuffing his cufflinks and rolling his sleeves up his veiny forearms. “Accounting can go back to their unfortunate line of work. Couture is excused from this meeting—though not forgiven for their horrid blog. Miss Humphry?” He snapped his fingers impatiently. 
He was already waltzing down the narrow hallway, knowing I’d chase him like a puppy, and no doubt taking pleasure in that fact. 
“I have a bone to pick with you.” 
Bone, boner—same difference, right?
I shot Grayson a please-save-my-butt look. His eyes said, I would but I still have a life to live. 
I followed Célian down the hall, my Chucks slapping the floor in a hurry. He sliced through the throng of accountants, then stopped at a corner office, opened the door, barked “Out!” to the man inside, and tilted his head for me to go in. I did. He closed the door, and it was just the two of us. 
Two feet of empty space between us. 


About LJ Shen:

Kindle Crack Book Reviews Blog
L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.
Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets people's’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.
She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.


Connect with L.J. Shen: 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorljshen/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lj_shen
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorljshen/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorljshen/
Stay up to date with L.J. Shen by signing up for her mailing list:

Thursday, August 9, 2018

COVER REVEAL: Not Until You by Corinne Michaels


Kindle Crack Book Reviews Blog
Not Until You by Corinne Michaels 
Publication Date: September 24th, 2018 
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
Photography: Perrywinkle Photography 
Cover Design: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative


I have two rules in life:
1. No relationships, falling in love or attachments.
2. No sleeping with clients of my interior design firm.

Since the last guy turned out to be married, they’ve been easy to follow.

Until him.

Callum Huxley is a ridiculously sexy Brit, and the connection we have the moment our eyes lock scares the ever-loving hell out of me. Thank God I came to my senses before going back to his hotel where I would’ve ended up naked, panting, and unable to forget him.

Thinking I walked away from that night unscathed was stupid. Sure enough, at the biggest meeting of my career waits the CEO of Dovetail Enterprises—him. It might be the most embarrassing moment of my professional life. And breaking my no-client rule might just be the hottest moment of my personal life.

Learning to trust has never felt so good, but falling has never hurt so bad.

Pre-Order Exclusively on iBooks: https://apple.co/2nmwE0V
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2nhCNeS 
Barnes & Noble: http://smarturl.it/NUY_BN


Meet Corinne: 
Corinne Michaels is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller author. She’s an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun-loving mom of two beautiful children. Corinne is happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife.
After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness. She enjoys putting her characters through intense heartbreak and finding a way to heal them through their struggles. Her stories are chock full of emotion, humor, and unrelenting love.

Connect with Corinne:
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