KCBR Blog

Blurb
He was someone who belonged in my wildest fantasies instead of a rest stop in the middle of Nebraska.

A sexy, cocky, Australian named Chance was the last person I expected to run into on my cross-country drive.

When my car broke down, we made a deal. Next thing I knew, we were traveling together, spending sexually-tense nights in hotels and taking unplanned detours.

My ordinary road trip turned into the adventure of a lifetime. It was all fun and games until things got intense.

I wanted him, but Chance wouldn’t make a move. I thought he wanted me too, but something was holding him back.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for the cocky bastard, especially when I knew we’d be going our separate ways.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.

I wondered if the vibration would feel good between my legs.
The sun caught the chrome of a Harley Davidson parked a few spots over, gleaming in the sweltering midday sun.  I waited until Maroon Five finished playing on the radio, oddly fixated on the two-wheeled-man-toy as I fished in my purse for my cell phone.  The motorcycle was simple—high gloss black and shiny silver, worn leather saddlebags with a skull embossed below the initials C.B.  
How good would it feel to ride?  Wind blowing through my long hair, arms wrapped around a man with a tough sounding nickname, engine purring beneath my jean clad thighs.  Horse?  Drifter?  Guns?  Wait.  No.  Pres.  My imaginary biker was most definitely called Pres.  And he’d look just like Charlie Hunnam. 
I glanced down at my iPhone and found a half dozen new messages from Harrison.  Inwardly, I smirked.  Certainly, there is no one named Harrison that ever rode a Harley. Tossing my phone back in my bag, I cut the engine of my packed BMW and glanced behind me into the backseat.  Boxes piled to the ceiling were beginning to make my full-size car feel claustrophobic.  
A bus full of travelers pulled into the rest stop. Great. I’d better go in now and get my lunch, otherwise I’d never get out of here. Ten hours into a cross-country trip from Chicago to Temecula, California, I was somewhere in the middle of Nebraska with about another twenty some odd hours to go.
After a fifteen-minute wait inside for Pepsi and Popeyes fried chicken bites that I planned to eat back in the car, I stopped into the small souvenir shop.  I was so tired and didn’t really feel like driving the additional five hours I had to go before finding a place to sleep for the night. Yawning, I decided to stall and browse for a few minutes.  Checking out some trinkets, I eventually picked up a Barack Obama bobblehead and shook it mindlessly, watching its maniacal smile as the head bounced up and down.  
“Get it. You know you want it,” a deep, raspy voice said from behind my shoulders. Startling me, it caused a knee-jerk reaction that resulted in the bobblehead slipping from my fingers and falling to the ground. The head broke off of the spring neck and rolled away. 
The woman at the register shouted, “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to pay for that. Twenty dollars.”
“Damn it!” I spewed, following the path of the rolling head. As I bent down to pick it up, there was the voice again from behind me.
“And to think, some people say he’s got a good head on his shoulders.” He seemed to have an Australian accent.
“You think this is funny, asshole?” I asked before turning around and getting my first look at the man behind the voice.
I froze. 
Oh. Shit.    
“You don’t need to be a fucking bitch about it.” His mouth curved into a wicked grin as he handed me the bottom half of Obama. “And for the record, I did think that was really funny, yes.” 
I swallowed and seemed to lose my ability to speak as I took in the Adonis standing before me. I wanted to smack that cocky smile right off his face, though—his gorgeous, chiseled, scruffy face, framed by a thick head of copper-brown hair. Fuck me. This man was insanely hot, not someone I expected to come across out here. This was the middle of nowhere USA, not the Australian outback for Christ’s sake.
I cleared my throat. “Well, I didn’t think it was funny at all.”
“Then, you need to take the stick out of your arse and lighten up.” He reached out his hand. “Give it to me, Princess. I’ll pay for the damn thing.” Before I could respond, he grabbed the two broken pieces from me, and I cursed at the shiver that ran down my spine from the brief contact of his hand brushing against mine. Of course, he had to smell amazing on top of it all. 
I followed him to the register as I fished through my messy purse for money, but he was too quick and had paid for it already. 
He handed me a plastic bag containing the broken bobblehead. “There’s some change in the bag. Buy yourself a sense of humor.”
HUE-MA. That accent.  
My jaw dropped as he walked away and out of the store. 
What an ass. 
It was. A fine one. A thick, juicy, round ass hugged tightly by his jeans. God, I really needed to get laid, because it didn’t seem to matter that this guy had just insulted me to my face; my panties were practically wet. 
After several minutes of staring into space at a shelf of Nebraska Cornhuskers t-shirts, I gave myself a mental kick in the butt. My reaction to the incident proved that fatigue had gotten the best of me; I wasn’t usually that short-tempered. It was time to shake off the bizarre encounter and get moving. My stomach was growling, and I was looking forward to breaking into the fried chicken once I hit the road. I snuck a piece out of the box in my bag as I walked out of the building. My chewing ceased when I noticed him two spots down from my car—sitting on the very motorcycle I’d been fantasizing about earlier. 
Approaching slowly, I hoped he didn’t notice me. No such luck. Instead, when he spotted me, he flashed an exaggerated smile and waved.
Frantically searching for my keys, I rolled my eyes and muttered, “You again.”
He snickered. “Did you end up buying a sense of humor?”
“I used the change to buy you some couth instead.”
Chuckling, he shook his head at me.  Running his hand through his hair, he put his shiny black helmet on and cranked the Harley. The rumble shook me to my core.   
Getting in the car and slamming the door, I couldn’t help taking one last look over at him, seeing as though I’d never see this guy again in my lifetime. He winked through the helmet, and my pathetic heart fluttered.
I watched through the rear view mirror as he backed out of the spot. I expected him to take off like a bat out of hell, but after moving away slowly, he abruptly stopped. He kept trying to rev the bike to get it to move, but nothing was happening. Eventually turning off the engine, he removed his helmet and ran his hand through his hair in frustration before getting off to inspect things. I should have just left, but couldn’t take my eyes off him as he struggled to get it to run.  Man, that sucks. 
I dipped one of the chicken bites into the honey mustard sauce and popped it into my mouth, continuing to watch this like a spectator sport for several minutes. At one point, he took out his phone and made a phone call as he paced back and forth. 
Putting his phone away, he looked in my direction and glared at me. Caught in the act of watching him, I let out a nervous laugh. I didn’t mean to laugh at the situation, but it just came out. He raised his brow, and that made me cackle harder. He slowly walked toward me, clutching the helmet by his side. He knocked on my window, and I lowered it. 
“You think this is funny, Princess?”
“Not really…maybe.” I snorted. 
“Well, I’m glad you finally managed to find your sense of humor.” 
HUE-MA.
God, his accent was sexy.
He arched his neck to look into the backseat and took notice of all the boxes. “You homeless or something? Living out of your car?”
“No. I’m in the middle of a cross-country move.”
“Where you headed?”
“Temecula.”
“California.” He nodded. “Me, too.”
I looked toward his Harley. “Well, it looks like you’re not exactly headed anywhere anytime soon. I guess it’s payback for calling me a bitch.”
“Well, that would seem to be the case.”
“That it’s payback?”
“No, that you’re a bitch.” 
“Very funny.”
“You know what’s even better than payback?” he asked leaning into the window, his cologne intoxicating me.
“What?”
He wiggled his brows. “Karma.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come around and have a look at the back of your Beemer.” 
BEE-MA.
I got out and walked around to the back of my car to find my right rear tire was completely flat. 
What? This cannot be happening.
With my hand on my forehead, I looked over at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? Did you know my tire was flat all this time?”
“I noticed it right around the time I caught you popping chicken and laughing at me, yes. It was real hard for me to keep a straight face at that point.”
I didn’t know how to change a tire to save my life. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask of him.
“Do you know how to change a tire?”
“Of course I do. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t know how to change a tire?”
“Will you help me? I know you have no reason to want to…after our little altercation, but I’m seriously desperate. I don’t want to be stuck out here all alone at night.”
“Let me ask you a question.”
“Okay…”
He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “How badly do you want your tire changed?”
I backed away from him. “What exactly are you getting at?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart. I’m not fucking propositioning you if that’s what you think. You’re not my type.”
“And what exactly is your type?”
“I typically go for women who don’t have the personality of a door knob.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“So, what are your conditions?”
“Well, as you clearly know from your laughing fit, my Harley is experiencing a technical malfunction at the moment. It needs a part that I don’t have. I just called a tow company. But I’m on a deadline, and like you, I need to get to California.”
“You’re not suggesting…”
“Yes. Yes, I am. If I change your tire, you let me ride with you.”
“Ride with me?”
“Ride me, yes.”
“What did you just say?”
“You’re hearing things.”
I shook my head to rid the images now flashing through it. Did my tired mind only imagine that he just said that, or was he messing with me?  
“I cannot drive hundreds of miles with a total stranger,” I said.
“It’s a fuck of a lot safer than driving alone.”
“Not if you’re a serial killer!”
“Look who’s talking. You’re the one who decapitated a U.S. president.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. This situation was seriously insane.
“Holy shit, Princess, is that a laugh at your own expense, I see?” 
“I think you’re making me delirious.”
He stuck out his hand. “So, you in?”
I crossed my arms instead of taking it. “What choice do I have?”
“Well, you could always have him change your tire.” He gestured to a large and scary-looking man who seemed to be watching us. This guy looked like Herman Munster in the flesh.
Letting out a deep breath, I conceded. “I’m in. I’m in! Just get me out of here.”
“I thought you might say that. Please tell me you have a spare.”
“Yeah. But I have to move some of my boxes so you can get to it.”
He started to crack up when he got a load of the situation inside my trunk. “Damn, what the hell is all this crap?”
I looked into his eyes and answered honestly, “My entire life.”
I temporarily piled the contents of the trunk onto the pavement. He got the spare out and immediately got to work. 
As he was changing the tire, his white t-shirt rode up, exposing his tanned, rock-hard abs and a thin trail of hair that ran into his underwear line. Unwanted tension built between my legs. I needed a distraction, so I walked over to his bike and sat on it, gripping the handles and imagining what it would be like to ride in the wind. But all I could envision now was him in front of me, and that wasn’t helping. 
He slid his body from under my car. “Be careful, little girl. That’s not a toy.”
I hopped off and ran my finger along the letters emblazoned on the saddlebags. “What’s C.B. stand for anyway?”
“Those are my initials.”
“Let me guess…Cocky Bastard?”
“See…I would have told you my name, but since you’re so clever, I think I’ll just let you guess.”
“Whatever, Cocky.”
He lay back down on the ground. “I’m just tightening up these nuts, and we’ll be ready to go.”
“Nuts?”
“Lug nuts…on the wheel, dirty girl.”
“Oh.”
Hopping up, he lifted his shirt and used it to wipe his forehead. “All set.”
Damn.
“That was quick. Are you sure it’s on right?”
“I’ve got a few screws loose, darling, as you’ll soon find out, but none of them are on your wheel.” He winked and for the first time, I noticed his dimples. “We should probably stop tomorrow and get a new tire put on. This spare is really not meant for long term use.”
Tomorrow. Wow. This was really happening.
“We should get going,” I said. “I’ll drive. I need to be in control of this situation.”
“Whatever you want,” he said.
I could feel the tension in my neck as I backed out of the spot. This was going to be very interesting to say the least. He wasted no time digging into my chicken bites.
I playfully slapped his hand. “Hey, lay off my food.”
“Honey mustard? I prefer barbecue.” He licked his thumb, and I swore at myself for getting turned on a little. This was going to be a long ride. 
He smirked and lifted the plastic bag from the souvenir shop. “Did you even open it?”
“No. What’s the point? It’s just a broken bobblehead.”
Handing it to me, he said, “Is it?”
With one hand on the steering wheel, I took out the bobblehead which was…in one piece.
“What the…how did you?”
“You seemed to like it, so I paid for the other and bought you a different one. You were too busy looking through your purse to notice.” 
I couldn’t help but smile and shook my head.
“Well, whaddya know. A genuine smile.” He held out his hand. “Here…gimme.” When, I handed it to him, he took an adhesive strip off the bottom and stuck it to the dash. Obama’s head was now bopping up and down with every movement of the car.
I broke out in laughter at the ridiculousness but also couldn’t help the warm feeling that came over me with that sweet gesture. Maybe he wasn’t really a bastard at all. 
We were quiet for a while as he lay his head back and shut his eyes. Somewhere along I-76 after the sun set into a bright orange glow that illuminated the horizon in the distance, he turned to me.  
His voice was groggy. “I’m Chance.”
After several seconds of silence, I said, “Aubrey.”
“Aubrey,” he repeated in a breathy whisper, seeming to contemplate my name before closing his eyes again and turning his head away.  

Chance.

About the Authors:

Vi Keeland
Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work.  She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!
 Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest

Additional Books by Vi Keeland

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)
Beat
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1MWanfu
Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/1fczMX5
iBooks: http://apple.co/1DnI6f6
Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1aqrmbS
B&N:  http://bit.ly/1O1Ah0q

Throb 
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1BgqIUD
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1CsRg9d
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1zk882K
iBooks: http://bit.ly/1x5c3P8

Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1slglLN

MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)
Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1xC6epE
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1alpVES
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1dbzZ8R
Smashwords - http://bit.ly/1is0zNX
iBooks: http://bit.ly/1co2ZpF

Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1xC71aa
B&N: http://bit.ly/1gwTyJw
iBooks:  http://bit.ly/1gHMCZg
Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1fqQcnj
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/NU2rCR

Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1wbsJEK
B & N: http://bit.ly/1ljdVzb
iBooks:  http://bit.ly/XBTLFX
Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1kWP4ka

The Cole Series (2 book serial)

Belong to You (Cole Series, Book One)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1fr26W2
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1KRsCVy
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/belong-to-you-vi-keeland/1114962845
IBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/belong-to-you/id639401754
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/belong-to-you

Made for You (Cole Series, Book Two)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1Mi0AzQ
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1KRsdCx
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/made-for-you-vi-keeland/1115883225
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/made-for-you/id84550637
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/belong-to-you


Standalone novels
Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)
Amazon US:http://amzn.to/1G9HdDK
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Rmi3xp 
First Thing I See
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1fr3dF7
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1RmihEP
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1JWFo21

Meet Penelope Ward

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 10-year-old girl with autism and a 9-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.
       
Stalk Her: Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads


Other books from Penelope Ward
Stepbrother Dearest
Amazon  http://amzn.to/1mFNMeg 
B&N: http://bit.ly/1taMFjG
ITunes: http://bit.ly/YER0mT
kobo: http://bit.ly/1fJaaBs


Gemini
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1vgk1SE
B&N: http://bit.ly/1KfmLHD
iTunes: http://apple.co/1QTaONj
kobo: http://bit.ly/1BGJ2wu

Jake Undone (Jake #1)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1dJrHBC
B&N: http://bit.ly/1obAwJ6
iTunes: http://apple.co/1fJayQ8
kobo: http://bit.ly/1SPKl0M

My Skylar
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1obOG2F
B&N: http://bit.ly/SLO1qi
iTunes: http://bit.ly/SLNOTR
kobo: http://bit.ly/1kNrtAB

Jake Understood (Jake #2)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1GFdves
B&N: http://bit.ly/1FwJC0z
iTunes: http://apple.co/1DQQwgC
kobo: http://bit.ly/1LQ7Fvk

From New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal best-selling author, Georgia Cates, comes a steamy new standalone contemporary romance novel.

Beau Emerson is no gentleman. 

Those hazel eyes.
That filthy mouth.
That greedy, hard body.

It all equates to one thing. Irresistible.

One look and I know he’ll bruise my lips and scar my knees. He’ll give me the best nine days of my life while ruining me in the most beautiful way imaginable. And I’ll let him because he has the power to talk me into anything.
Except one thing.
Staying.

I have no choice. The things I desire from him will destroy me in the end. I want more than he’s capable of giving––something true and beautiful.
He can never know how much of me belongs to him. Too much is at stake.
Shh … don’t tell him he’s my everything.

My name is Anna James Bennett. And this is our story.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25820243-indulge

Indulge by Georgia Cates
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Spoiler-free review
Rating: 4.5 stars
Title: Indulge
Author:  Georgia Cates
Release Date: August 4, 2015
Cliffhanger: No

Georgia Cates cranked up the heat in this vacation romance fantasy. This sexy new book from Georgia is the perfect INDULGEnce. Indulge goes from sexy to serious with an ending that will make you want to want book a trip. This book is sex on the beach…literally. One-click this one!
A little fun fact: By the way there is a real “Indulge”, and it’s called Hedonism. This popular Jamaican vacation hot spot for swingers is alive and swinging.  I have two friends who visited Hedonism a long time ago. One friend came home and needed penicillin shots and was hospitalized. Then there are the pictures my other friend took on his trip. I have seen them...I can't unsee them.
This review appears on www.kindlecrack.net, www.facebook.com/kindlecrack ,  Goodreads, Amazon, Google+ and Twitter. A review copy of this book was kindly provided by the author in exchange for an honest review.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet.

When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it.

Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Georgia-Cates/213130102082500?ref=br_tf 
NEWSLETTER: http://goo.gl/ILvz8L  
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/GeorgiaCates 
WEBSITE: http://www.georgiacates.com/   
GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5228869.Georgia_Cates
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/Georgia-Cates/e/B005RQM69U/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1412959384&sr=8-2-ent 




PROLOGUE:
Anna James Bennett
Prologue

I sigh as I toss the thick legal envelope across the island in Meredith’s gourmet kitchen. The proof of my marriage’s dissolution barely comes to a stop before plummeting over the edge. “It’s final, as of today.”
My best friend, Meredith, squeals. “Yes. This calls for a celebratory drink.”
The word celebratory implies happiness or joy. That isn’t the case for me. My husband of twelve months left me for a nineteen-year-old. A kid. His former student.
Fucker.
He swears nothing happened while she was his pupil.
Liar.
He claims it’s true love.
Dumbass.
Drake’s relationship with Caitlyn is fleeting. She’s an immature teen who wants to play house. The paint won’t dry on the walls of their new apartment before she’s ready to bail.
“I’ve been saving this one for a special occasion.” Ahh. A bottle of Wittmann Westhofener Morstein Riesling. Always rich in body and texture. My favorite.
Gulp. Gulp. The bottle gurgles as Meredith pours far more than three ounces. My glass is three-quarters full when she presses two fingers against the base and glides it across the sleek Carrara marble toward me. I instantly salivate when the essence of honey, peach, mango, and flowers invades my nostrils.
Meredith lifts her glass, cueing me to the toast she’s about to make. “Here’s to the end of an error––your misconception that Drake Langston was a knight in shining armor rather than what he really is—a turd in tinfoil.”
“I know that’s the truth.” I tap my glass against hers before taking the first sip of dry, fruity goodness. Damn, that’s good stuff.
“Capone made sure you got everything you wanted?”
Alec Capone is the most successful divorce attorney in Georgia. He should be with a name like that. “I got more than I wanted, including custody of Little Bastard, since Drake relinquished ownership of him. Caitlyn’s allergic.” I’m epically pissed off about him dumping his cat on me.
“Are you keeping the lil’ guy?”
“I haven’t decided.” Kermit, AKA Little Bastard, has no love for me. Doesn’t matter that I’ve been the one who has fed him his every bite, changed his litter box every time, taken him to the vet for every visit, even the time he was deathly ill from eating part of my foam flip-flop.
“You won’t have a problem if you decide to re-home him. He’s beautiful. Plenty of cat lovers would take him just because he’s a Bengal.”
Kermit was Drake’s trophy cat. Pretty to look at and that’s about it. Much like Caitlyn.
I have no emotional connection to Little Bastard. I’ve tried to bond but he’s resistant. That’s why I’m so surprised by the way I feel when I think of giving him away. He’s resistant to loving me. Just like Drake.
“I got my name back.” That’s what I wanted most. Bennett. My daddy’s name.
The wrinkle in Meredith’s brow serves as a warning. It’s always a prelude to something serious. “I understand those papers feel like a painful ending but that’s because they’re disguising what today is. A new beginning. Grayson and I think it’s important for you to treat this as a fresh start.” 
Meredith disappears into the dining room and returns with a gift bag covered in curly ribbon and filled with tissue paper.
“Your divorce gift. Read the card first.”
I open the envelope and read the message aloud. “Congratulations on your divorce. We hated him.”
“No secret there.” I already knew Meredith and Grayson despised Drake.
I rip into the bag, tossing aqua and lime tissue paper in every direction. I’m worse than a child when it comes to tearing into gifts.
I take out each item and place it on the countertop. Sunscreen. Ray-Bans. The ridiculously expensive bikini I lusted for at that expensive boutique in Buckhead. And condoms.
“Sur…prise. Grayson and I are taking you to Jamaica with us next month.”
Umm … not just no. “Forget it. Not happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening. We’ve already booked two suites and your airline ticket. First class.”
She’s out of her mind. I’m not going to that place. “Cancel one. Unless you and Grayson plan to use separate suites.”
“Can’t cancel. It’s Wicked Week at the resort so both rooms had to be paid for in full. Nonrefundable.”
This is her way of guilting me into doing what she wants. She thinks I’ll say yes if her money won’t be returned. “You’re so wrong for doing this to me.”
“You need a getaway and we knew you’d never agree otherwise. Don’t be mad.”
I’m not mad. I’m pissed. I’ve already made plans for the next three months. “I’m taking a second job while school’s out for summer. There’s no way an employer will give me vacation time four weeks after hiring me.”
“Maybe not, unless your bosses are Meredith and Grayson Faulkner. Come to work for us and we’ll guarantee you the time off. There won’t be a reason in the world you can’t go.”
Right. No reason in the world unless you consider the fact this all-expenses-paid vacation is for a getaway at a hedonism resort. A freaking no-holds-barred sex retreat.
I’m neither a hede nor a swinger.
Meredith Faulkner has been my best friend since ninth grade. We’ve been through thick and thin. There’s nothing she and I haven’t shared, apart from one huge exception.
Meredith and Grayson practice hedonism. They chase pleasure in any form it presents. They’re also part of a local community known to many as the lifestyle. They’re swingers. Wife Swappers.
Whatever floats their boat is fine by me. I don’t judge. But hedonism and swinging ain’t my thang. I’m not into casual sex. I prefer intimacy with a man I love, and always within the boundaries of a committed relationship.
Call me old-fashioned but I need more than a physical connection. A quick fuck with a person I’ve just met isn’t my cup of tea. Neither is having sex with someone else while my husband watches. Or the other way around.
“Don’t be worried about the money. Indulge is all-inclusive. You won’t be out a dime.”
I am cash-strapped but Meredith knows my resistance is unrelated to my financial status. “I don’t practice hedonism and I’m not a swinger. I have no business going to Indulge.”
“It’s Jamaica, mon! There are plenty of activities that have nothing to do with hedonism or swinging.” She picks up the top of the bikini she just gifted me and holds it up over my shirt. “Think of how great you’ll look on the beach in this.”
I’m not denying I need an escape from this hell I call reality but I don’t want it to be at Indulge, even if all expenses are paid. “Seeing you and Grayson with other people will be a problem for me.”
“Then we’ll ensure you don’t.”
“What kind of things would there be for me to do?”
“Let me grab my laptop and I’ll show you.”
The website for Indulge makes it appear to be a classy establishment. But looks can be deceiving. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”
“Hedonism resorts are like anything else. There are different levels. Go to a hundred dollar a night establishment and you’ll get what you pay for. Indulge is five stars all the way so it’s only the best accommodations and amenities for its guests.”
Meredith navigates to the page of offered activities. The list is huge. “You’ve always wanted to try snorkeling and scuba diving.”
“True.” I wanted an island honeymoon where Drake and I could do those things together. He took me to the mountains instead, the last place I wanted to go, because it was cheaper.
“I know you don’t think so but this is your kind of vacation, Anna James. The pools are luxurious. The beaches are white with the bluest water you’ve ever seen. You’re provided with all the alcohol and food you can hold. Calories don’t count there.”
“Well, that changes everything.”
“The service is magnificent. You can lie on the beach, in this new bikini, and have drinks brought to you by a handsome cabana boy. Who wouldn’t enjoy that?”
I imagine the serenity of being on a Jamaican beach. I envision the sun warming my skin. It lightly glistens with sweat but I’m not hot because the breeze cools me when it blows against my sun-kissed skin. The rush of the waves rolling in and out is steady. It’s my favorite sound in the world. A perfect recipe for relaxation.
My lovely imagery is interrupted by a notion—some old naked coot standing beside me where I’m sunbathing on a lounger. I look over to see who’s blocking the sun and his spunk spitter is staring me down. “I don’t want some dude’s frank ’n beans in my face.”
Meredith bursts into laughter. “Despite what you think, the men don’t go around shaking their balls like maracas.”
“I won’t be hounded?” That would piss me off. And completely ruin my good time.
“You’re a beautiful woman. I don’t think it’s possible for you to not be propositioned.”
I’ve spent my life being compared to a life-size version of Barbie. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, but petite. At five four, I don’t have those mile-long, lean legs like the doll.
I’ve never had a problem with men finding me attractive. Except my own husband. I must have aged out for him since he likes ’em young.
“There’s a policy in place and everyone adheres to it. All you have to say is ‘I appreciate your interest, but no thank you.’ They won’t bother you after that. Harassment isn’t allowed. Anyone who doesn’t abide by the rules is made to leave.”
“But what about the one refusing to take no for an answer?” It never fails. There will be one in the bunch.
“There’s always someone at Indulge who will say yes. They don’t waste their time on uninterested people.” Well, that makes sense.
I hear the garage door lifting. “Sounds like G’s home.”
Meredith beams. Three years of marriage and she still lights up like a candle for him. Yet she’ll have sex with another man. Their marriage is an enigma I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
“Grayson’s comfortable with me going to the resort with y’all?”
“It was his idea. He wants to do something nice for you. Let him.”
G’s a good friend. Loyal. Protective. So much so I thought he was going to kill Drake when he found out what he’d done to me. I adore him for that; it was nice to know I had someone in my corner.
Grayson enters from the garage and is nearly tackled by their golden retriever, desperate for his daily dose of petting from his master. “Hey, Howie. Were you a good boy today?”
“No, he damn sure wasn’t,” Meredith calls outs. “He snuck into the laundry room and stole my favorite panties from the laundry basket. He chewed a big-ass hole in the crotch.”
Grayson chuckles loudly before giving Howie one last scratch behind his ears.
“It’s not funny. It’s the third pair this week.”
My best friend’s husband comes to her and kisses the side of her face. It’s so loving. Normal. Someone looking in from the outside couldn’t possibly imagine the things they do behind closed doors. “Howie knows I like you in crotchless panties.”
Meredith gasps and slaps his arm. “Stop. Don’t say things like that in front of Anna James.”
Grayson grins in my direction. He’s so handsome. Dark hair graying at the temples. Bright blue eyes. I wouldn’t dare share him with another woman if I were Meredith. “My dear wife would totally say something like that in front of you.”
He’s almost right. “No. She would say much worse.”
Meredith winks at me. “I absolutely would but only because I can. I’m her best friend.”
Grayson gestures to the gift bag on the counter. “Is AJ still calling you a friend after opening our gift?”
I pick up the card. “I loved this. And the bikini.”
Grayson smirks. “What about our offer?”
I don’t know what to say. To decline feels like a shitty, ungrateful thing. To accept feels wrong. Wicked.
“Don’t think about what kind of resort it is or what goes on there. It’s the change of scenery and escape from life that you need. Think of it as a palate cleansing.”
All valid points.
A palate cleansing. I like that idea. A lot. “Okay. I’m in.”
Meredith squeals and darts to where I’m sitting. She throws her arms around me and squeezes tightly. “You’re going to have the time of your life. This is going to be a getaway you’ll never forget. I guarantee it.”
I’m certain it will be an experience I’ll never forget. Even when I try.
Now, to find someone to keep Little Bastard.

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BLURB
There’s a single defining moment within every skater.
It lasts only a second. Two if you're good.
Three if you’re really good.
It’s the moment you’re in the air, your board somewhere beneath you, and nothing but wind surrounds you.
It’s the feeling of being airborne.

The sixteen-year-old version of me would’ve said it was the greatest feeling in the world.
Then at seventeen, I had my son.
And every single second became a defining moment. Even the ones that consisted of heartbreak when his mother left us.

Seventeen. Single. Dad.
That’s what my life became.
Yet, every day, I managed to find that feeling of being airborne.
Or at least I convinced myself I did.
But I lied—to myself and to everyone around me.
Until she showed up; Tanned skin, raven dark hair, and eyes the color of emeralds.

You know what sucks about being in the air?
Coming down from the high.
Sometimes you land on the board and nail the trick.
Then kick, push, and coast away.
Other times you fall.
You fall hard.
And those are the times when it’s not as easy to get back up, dust off your pads and try again.
Especially when the girl with the emerald eyes becomes your drug...
And you become her poison.
Review of Kick Push
Kick Push by Jay McLean
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Spoiler-free review
Rating: 5 stars
Title: Kick Push
Author:  Jay McLean
Release Date: August 4, 2015

I love Jay McLean!  She is one of my favorite “Queens of The Feels”.  Along with Colleen Hoover, I depend on Jay to deliver emotionally driven stories that make me feel EVERY emotion. Jay did it again with Kick Push. This heartbreaking and beautiful story will leave you wanting more.  In the end, I wanted to KICK my Kindle and think about PUSHing Jay for MORE. One click this one.  Bravo Jay!

This review appears on www.kindlecrack.net, www.facebook.com/kindlecrack ,  Goodreads, Amazon, Google+ and Twitter. A review copy of this book was kindly provided by the author in exchange for an honest review.



AUTHOR BIO
Jay is an avid reader, writer, and most of all, procrastinator. When she's not doing any of those things, she can be found running after her two little boys, or devouring some tacky reality TV show.

She writes what she loves to read, which are books that can make her laugh, make her smile, make her hurt, and make her feel.

For publishing rights (Foreign & Domestic) Film, or television, please contact her agent, Erica Spellman-Silverman, at Trident Media Group.


AUTHOR LINKS
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BLURB

Tor

Jude Pearson could just as well kill me as kiss me most days. He was my captor, my living hell, and yet, he became my saviour, my heart. Stupid. He’s heartless, conditioned to feel nothing, and so I ran... straight into the clutches of his enemy. Joe Campbell wants Jude to suffer, and I just became a pawn in a very dangerous game.

Joe has broken me in every way, everything that I once was stripped away, and in it’s place is festering hatred and a rage so cold I feel nothing else. I have one purpose.
Revenge.

Jude

Love makes you weak, it makes you irrational. She was collateral, completely innocent when she was unwillingly dragged into my corrupt world. With the damage I’d already caused her, I couldn’t let her love me, so I let her go, and now...he has her.

No matter where she is, she will always be mine. This man has taken every-fucking-thing from me, and he has the last thing that matters to me. I will kill him. Slowly. Joe Campbell better run because the devil is fucking coming for him.

Sometimes two wrongs can make a right.

Rage.

Hate.

Revenge.

Our Wrath binds us, but it may also break us.


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#1 Wrong

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LP LOVELL

Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.

She's a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.


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Website:  http://www.lplovell.com/


STEVIE J. COLE

Stevie J. Cole is a secret rock star. Sex, drugs and, oh wait, no, just sex. She’s a whore for a British accent and has an unhealthy obsession with Russell Brand. She and LP plan to elope in Vegas and breed the world’s most epic child.


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Goodreads:   https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7736491.Stevie_J_Cole



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Synopsis
Normal is not something Ryan and Cereus have ever been, where’s the fun in normal?

When Cereus’s dreams follow her into the waking hours, she has to come to terms with the fact, Ryan is not the only monster in her madness.
That she herself… can be just as deadly.

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From New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal best-selling author, Georgia Cates, comes a steamy new standalone contemporary romance novel.

Beau Emerson is no gentleman. 

Those hazel eyes.
That filthy mouth.
That greedy, hard body.

It all equates to one thing. Irresistible.

One look and I know he’ll bruise my lips and scar my knees. He’ll give me the best nine days of my life while ruining me in the most beautiful way imaginable. And I’ll let him because he has the power to talk me into anything.
Except one thing.
Staying.

I have no choice. The things I desire from him will destroy me in the end. I want more than he’s capable of giving––something true and beautiful.
He can never know how much of me belongs to him. Too much is at stake.
Shh … don’t tell him he’s my everything.

My name is Anna James Bennett. And this is our story.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25820243-indulge 


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet.

When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it.

Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Georgia-Cates/213130102082500?ref=br_tf 
NEWSLETTER: http://goo.gl/ILvz8L  
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/GeorgiaCates 
WEBSITE: http://www.georgiacates.com/   
GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5228869.Georgia_Cates
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/Georgia-Cates/e/B005RQM69U/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1412959384&sr=8-2-ent 



PROLOGUE:
Anna James Bennett
Prologue

I sigh as I toss the thick legal envelope across the island in Meredith’s gourmet kitchen. The proof of my marriage’s dissolution barely comes to a stop before plummeting over the edge. “It’s final, as of today.”
My best friend, Meredith, squeals. “Yes. This calls for a celebratory drink.”
The word celebratory implies happiness or joy. That isn’t the case for me. My husband of twelve months left me for a nineteen-year-old. A kid. His former student.
Fucker.
He swears nothing happened while she was his pupil.
Liar.
He claims it’s true love.
Dumbass.
Drake’s relationship with Caitlyn is fleeting. She’s an immature teen who wants to play house. The paint won’t dry on the walls of their new apartment before she’s ready to bail.
“I’ve been saving this one for a special occasion.” Ahh. A bottle of Wittmann Westhofener Morstein Riesling. Always rich in body and texture. My favorite.
Gulp. Gulp. The bottle gurgles as Meredith pours far more than three ounces. My glass is three-quarters full when she presses two fingers against the base and glides it across the sleek Carrara marble toward me. I instantly salivate when the essence of honey, peach, mango, and flowers invades my nostrils.
Meredith lifts her glass, cueing me to the toast she’s about to make. “Here’s to the end of an error––your misconception that Drake Langston was a knight in shining armor rather than what he really is—a turd in tinfoil.”
“I know that’s the truth.” I tap my glass against hers before taking the first sip of dry, fruity goodness. Damn, that’s good stuff.
“Capone made sure you got everything you wanted?”
Alec Capone is the most successful divorce attorney in Georgia. He should be with a name like that. “I got more than I wanted, including custody of Little Bastard, since Drake relinquished ownership of him. Caitlyn’s allergic.” I’m epically pissed off about him dumping his cat on me.
“Are you keeping the lil’ guy?”
“I haven’t decided.” Kermit, AKA Little Bastard, has no love for me. Doesn’t matter that I’ve been the one who has fed him his every bite, changed his litter box every time, taken him to the vet for every visit, even the time he was deathly ill from eating part of my foam flip-flop.
“You won’t have a problem if you decide to re-home him. He’s beautiful. Plenty of cat lovers would take him just because he’s a Bengal.”
Kermit was Drake’s trophy cat. Pretty to look at and that’s about it. Much like Caitlyn.
I have no emotional connection to Little Bastard. I’ve tried to bond but he’s resistant. That’s why I’m so surprised by the way I feel when I think of giving him away. He’s resistant to loving me. Just like Drake.
“I got my name back.” That’s what I wanted most. Bennett. My daddy’s name.
The wrinkle in Meredith’s brow serves as a warning. It’s always a prelude to something serious. “I understand those papers feel like a painful ending but that’s because they’re disguising what today is. A new beginning. Grayson and I think it’s important for you to treat this as a fresh start.” 
Meredith disappears into the dining room and returns with a gift bag covered in curly ribbon and filled with tissue paper.
“Your divorce gift. Read the card first.”
I open the envelope and read the message aloud. “Congratulations on your divorce. We hated him.”
“No secret there.” I already knew Meredith and Grayson despised Drake.
I rip into the bag, tossing aqua and lime tissue paper in every direction. I’m worse than a child when it comes to tearing into gifts.
I take out each item and place it on the countertop. Sunscreen. Ray-Bans. The ridiculously expensive bikini I lusted for at that expensive boutique in Buckhead. And condoms.
“Sur…prise. Grayson and I are taking you to Jamaica with us next month.”
Umm … not just no. “Forget it. Not happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening. We’ve already booked two suites and your airline ticket. First class.”
She’s out of her mind. I’m not going to that place. “Cancel one. Unless you and Grayson plan to use separate suites.”
“Can’t cancel. It’s Wicked Week at the resort so both rooms had to be paid for in full. Nonrefundable.”
This is her way of guilting me into doing what she wants. She thinks I’ll say yes if her money won’t be returned. “You’re so wrong for doing this to me.”
“You need a getaway and we knew you’d never agree otherwise. Don’t be mad.”
I’m not mad. I’m pissed. I’ve already made plans for the next three months. “I’m taking a second job while school’s out for summer. There’s no way an employer will give me vacation time four weeks after hiring me.”
“Maybe not, unless your bosses are Meredith and Grayson Faulkner. Come to work for us and we’ll guarantee you the time off. There won’t be a reason in the world you can’t go.”
Right. No reason in the world unless you consider the fact this all-expenses-paid vacation is for a getaway at a hedonism resort. A freaking no-holds-barred sex retreat.
I’m neither a hede nor a swinger.
Meredith Faulkner has been my best friend since ninth grade. We’ve been through thick and thin. There’s nothing she and I haven’t shared, apart from one huge exception.
Meredith and Grayson practice hedonism. They chase pleasure in any form it presents. They’re also part of a local community known to many as the lifestyle. They’re swingers. Wife Swappers.
Whatever floats their boat is fine by me. I don’t judge. But hedonism and swinging ain’t my thang. I’m not into casual sex. I prefer intimacy with a man I love, and always within the boundaries of a committed relationship.
Call me old-fashioned but I need more than a physical connection. A quick fuck with a person I’ve just met isn’t my cup of tea. Neither is having sex with someone else while my husband watches. Or the other way around.
“Don’t be worried about the money. Indulge is all-inclusive. You won’t be out a dime.”
I am cash-strapped but Meredith knows my resistance is unrelated to my financial status. “I don’t practice hedonism and I’m not a swinger. I have no business going to Indulge.”
“It’s Jamaica, mon! There are plenty of activities that have nothing to do with hedonism or swinging.” She picks up the top of the bikini she just gifted me and holds it up over my shirt. “Think of how great you’ll look on the beach in this.”
I’m not denying I need an escape from this hell I call reality but I don’t want it to be at Indulge, even if all expenses are paid. “Seeing you and Grayson with other people will be a problem for me.”
“Then we’ll ensure you don’t.”
“What kind of things would there be for me to do?”
“Let me grab my laptop and I’ll show you.”
The website for Indulge makes it appear to be a classy establishment. But looks can be deceiving. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”
“Hedonism resorts are like anything else. There are different levels. Go to a hundred dollar a night establishment and you’ll get what you pay for. Indulge is five stars all the way so it’s only the best accommodations and amenities for its guests.”
Meredith navigates to the page of offered activities. The list is huge. “You’ve always wanted to try snorkeling and scuba diving.”
“True.” I wanted an island honeymoon where Drake and I could do those things together. He took me to the mountains instead, the last place I wanted to go, because it was cheaper.
“I know you don’t think so but this is your kind of vacation, Anna James. The pools are luxurious. The beaches are white with the bluest water you’ve ever seen. You’re provided with all the alcohol and food you can hold. Calories don’t count there.”
“Well, that changes everything.”
“The service is magnificent. You can lie on the beach, in this new bikini, and have drinks brought to you by a handsome cabana boy. Who wouldn’t enjoy that?”
I imagine the serenity of being on a Jamaican beach. I envision the sun warming my skin. It lightly glistens with sweat but I’m not hot because the breeze cools me when it blows against my sun-kissed skin. The rush of the waves rolling in and out is steady. It’s my favorite sound in the world. A perfect recipe for relaxation.
My lovely imagery is interrupted by a notion—some old naked coot standing beside me where I’m sunbathing on a lounger. I look over to see who’s blocking the sun and his spunk spitter is staring me down. “I don’t want some dude’s frank ’n beans in my face.”
Meredith bursts into laughter. “Despite what you think, the men don’t go around shaking their balls like maracas.”
“I won’t be hounded?” That would piss me off. And completely ruin my good time.
“You’re a beautiful woman. I don’t think it’s possible for you to not be propositioned.”
I’ve spent my life being compared to a life-size version of Barbie. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, but petite. At five four, I don’t have those mile-long, lean legs like the doll.
I’ve never had a problem with men finding me attractive. Except my own husband. I must have aged out for him since he likes ’em young.
“There’s a policy in place and everyone adheres to it. All you have to say is ‘I appreciate your interest, but no thank you.’ They won’t bother you after that. Harassment isn’t allowed. Anyone who doesn’t abide by the rules is made to leave.”
“But what about the one refusing to take no for an answer?” It never fails. There will be one in the bunch.
“There’s always someone at Indulge who will say yes. They don’t waste their time on uninterested people.” Well, that makes sense.
I hear the garage door lifting. “Sounds like G’s home.”
Meredith beams. Three years of marriage and she still lights up like a candle for him. Yet she’ll have sex with another man. Their marriage is an enigma I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
“Grayson’s comfortable with me going to the resort with y’all?”
“It was his idea. He wants to do something nice for you. Let him.”
G’s a good friend. Loyal. Protective. So much so I thought he was going to kill Drake when he found out what he’d done to me. I adore him for that; it was nice to know I had someone in my corner.
Grayson enters from the garage and is nearly tackled by their golden retriever, desperate for his daily dose of petting from his master. “Hey, Howie. Were you a good boy today?”
“No, he damn sure wasn’t,” Meredith calls outs. “He snuck into the laundry room and stole my favorite panties from the laundry basket. He chewed a big-ass hole in the crotch.”
Grayson chuckles loudly before giving Howie one last scratch behind his ears.
“It’s not funny. It’s the third pair this week.”
My best friend’s husband comes to her and kisses the side of her face. It’s so loving. Normal. Someone looking in from the outside couldn’t possibly imagine the things they do behind closed doors. “Howie knows I like you in crotchless panties.”
Meredith gasps and slaps his arm. “Stop. Don’t say things like that in front of Anna James.”
Grayson grins in my direction. He’s so handsome. Dark hair graying at the temples. Bright blue eyes. I wouldn’t dare share him with another woman if I were Meredith. “My dear wife would totally say something like that in front of you.”
He’s almost right. “No. She would say much worse.”
Meredith winks at me. “I absolutely would but only because I can. I’m her best friend.”
Grayson gestures to the gift bag on the counter. “Is AJ still calling you a friend after opening our gift?”
I pick up the card. “I loved this. And the bikini.”
Grayson smirks. “What about our offer?”
I don’t know what to say. To decline feels like a shitty, ungrateful thing. To accept feels wrong. Wicked.
“Don’t think about what kind of resort it is or what goes on there. It’s the change of scenery and escape from life that you need. Think of it as a palate cleansing.”
All valid points.
A palate cleansing. I like that idea. A lot. “Okay. I’m in.”
Meredith squeals and darts to where I’m sitting. She throws her arms around me and squeezes tightly. “You’re going to have the time of your life. This is going to be a getaway you’ll never forget. I guarantee it.”
I’m certain it will be an experience I’ll never forget. Even when I try.
Now, to find someone to keep Little Bastard.