Tales of a bookworm 23

Showing posts with label purchase links. Show all posts
Showing posts with label purchase links. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Taste- Blog Tour, Review and Excerpt!

TASTE, an all-new sexy, stranded enemies-to lovers rom com from USA Today and #1 Amazon bestselling author Melanie Harlow is live now!

BLURB:

The last person on earth I want to be stranded with is Gianni Lupo.

But thanks to the blizzard of the century, I’m trapped in a roadside motel room with that cocky bastard for two straight days.

With one small bed.

Some women might thank Mother Nature for delivering a polar vortex that maroons them with six feet of solid muscle, those deep blue eyes, that sexy grin--but not me. I’ve known Gianni Lupo all my life, and he’s never brought me anything but bad luck and trouble.

So when the tension between us explodes with enough fiery heat to melt my icy defenses, I should have known what the disastrous end result would be--

A big fat plus sign.

After the snow melts, I’m left with more than just memories of the night we spent keeping each other warm. And he might be a rising star on the culinary scene, but he’s got no idea how to handle this bun in the oven.

He says he wants to do the right thing, but I’m not about to spend the rest of my life feeling like someone settled for me.

But just when I think I’ve got Gianni Lupo all figured out, he gives me a taste of the man he could be, of the family we could become, of the way he could love me if I let him.

I’m terrified of falling for him.

But one taste might be all it takes.

Grab your copy exclusively on Amazon or read FREE on Kindle Unlimited today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3JIXsRM

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/TasteMH

Paperback: https://harlow.pub/Taste-pb

Audio: Coming Soon

My Review:
My Rating: 4.5 Stars

Ellie and Gianni have been around each other since they were 5 years old, especially with their moms being best friends. However, Gianni was not the nicest kid growing up with Eliie and liked to mess with her because she always gave a reaction. Now the two are 23 years old and working at Ellie's parents restaurant together with Gianni being the chef and Ellie being the wine connoisseur and have to get along together at least during the dinner hours, but not without a lot of picking on each other and bickering. The two get trapped in a motel room due to a blizzard and with nothing else to do and being trapped together one thing leads to another and they have sex. Ellie finds out she's pregnant and the two now have to decide if what they want in life is what it was before they got stranded together in the motel or if things are changing and maybe Gianni isn't the man she thought he was, but something better?

This was honestly a great story. I loved the bickering and the hot sexual tension between Gianni and Ellie. I loved how Gianni made it so I just couldn't hate him. He had some growing up to do, which is normal for someone in their early 20's as he tries to figure out his life. Ellie was wonderful too, trying to protect herself, but knowing deep down she was falling for Gianni. I think I now have to go back to read the French series, which is based on their parents because I truly enjoyed this book so much! If you are looking for a hot, funny, enemies to accidental baby book this is definitely a book you should read! The chemistry was off the charts, the family moments were great, friendship was perfect, the writing made you feel everything both characters were going through. I think I have said this before, but Melanie is just a terrific story teller and just makes you fall in love with her characters. I had high hopes for this book and it did not disappoint. 

EXCERPT

I sat at the foot of the bed and dialed Winnie’s number. She picked up immediately.

“Ellie?”

“Hey.”

“Thank God! You guys okay?”

“We’re fine.” I watched Gianni unwrap a candy bar and lean back against the headboard. “We found a motel with a vacancy.”

“You mean you’re staying in a motel room together?” she asked, loud enough for Gianni to overhear.

“Yeah. And there’s only one bed.”

She laughed. “How’s that going?”

“Fine.”

“You guys are getting along?”

Gianni made a lewd gesture involving his fist, his tongue, and his inner cheek. I gave him the finger. “As well you’d expect.”

“I can’t wait to hear about it.”

“We’re going to try to get out of here as soon as we can in the morning. I’ll let you know when we’re on the road.”

“Sounds good.” She laughed again. “Sleep tight.”

“Oh. We will.” I eyed the length of the bed. “We have no choice.”

After ending the call, I opened the Truth or Drink app on my phone and picked up my wine. “Ready to play?”

“Hit me.”

I scrolled through the options. “Do you want to play normal mode, party mode, or dirty mode?

Gianni looked at me like I was crazy. “Duh.”

I sighed and reached for my wine. “Okay, fine. I feel like I’m going to regret this, but dirty it is.”

“Can I take my pants off?”

“No. What’s your age range for a one night-stand?”

“Hmm.” Gianni thought for a moment.

“Please say at least eighteen.”

“No teenagers. I’ll say twenty to forty-five.”

“Forty-five? Really?”

He shrugged. “I think mature women are hot. But I can’t go near fifty because that’s my mom’s age and then it would be weird.”

“Right.”

“So what about you? Same question.”

“I’d have to say . . . thirty to forty.”

He looked offended. “Why thirty? You’re only twenty-three.”

And so was he, which was why I’d said it. “I know, but I think older men are just better in bed.” (I’d actually never been with anyone over twenty-eight.)

“In what way?”

“Just . . . more patient. More knowledgeable. More generous. Guys in their twenties think they’re all that just because they have younger bodies, especially if they’re—you know—well-endowed. But it’s not just the size of the boat. It’s definitely the motion of the ocean.”

He harrumphed. “You’ve been in the wrong boats.”


Add Taste to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3sWbzNO


About Melanie Harlow

USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she's not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like Ted Lasso, Schitt’s Creek, and Fleabag. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the BELLAMY CREEK series, the CLOVERLEIGH FARMS series, the ONE & ONLY series, AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, and the FRENCHED series. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

Connect with Melanie

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2RPwr51

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NPkYKs

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/36kL7yB

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2NW3UtA

Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2sVOz55

Facebook Reader Group: https://bit.ly/3mYzBBo


Stay up to date with new releases and sign up for Melanie’s mailing list:

http://bit.ly/2P7MATT

Website: www.melanieharlow.com

Monday, March 7, 2022

Taste- Release Blitz!!

 TASTE, an all-new enemies-to-lovers, small town romantic comedy filled with emotion and laughter from USA Today and #1 Amazon bestselling author Melanie Harlow is live now!

BLURB:

The last person on earth I want to be stranded with is Gianni Lupo.

But thanks to the blizzard of the century, I’m trapped in a roadside motel room with that cocky bastard for two straight days.

With one small bed.

Some women might thank Mother Nature for delivering a polar vortex that maroons them with six feet of solid muscle, those deep blue eyes, that sexy grin--but not me. I’ve known Gianni Lupo all my life, and he’s never brought me anything but bad luck and trouble.

So when the tension between us explodes with enough fiery heat to melt my icy defenses, I should have known what the disastrous end result would be--

A big fat plus sign.

After the snow melts, I’m left with more than just memories of the night we spent keeping each other warm. And he might be a rising star on the culinary scene, but he’s got no idea how to handle this bun in the oven.

He says he wants to do the right thing, but I’m not about to spend the rest of my life feeling like someone settled for me.

But just when I think I’ve got Gianni Lupo all figured out, he gives me a taste of the man he could be, of the family we could become, of the way he could love me if I let him.

I’m terrified of falling for him.

But one taste might be all it takes.

Grab your copy exclusively on Amazon today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3JIXsRM

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/TasteMH

Paperback: https://harlow.pub/Taste-pb

Audio: Coming Soon


Add Taste to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3sWbzNO


About Melanie Harlow

USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she's not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like Ted Lasso, Schitt’s Creek, and Fleabag. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the BELLAMY CREEK series, the CLOVERLEIGH FARMS series, the ONE & ONLY series, AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, and the FRENCHED series. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.


Connect with Melanie

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2RPwr51

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NPkYKs

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/36kL7yB

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2NW3UtA

Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2sVOz55

Facebook Reader Group: https://bit.ly/3mYzBBo


Stay up to date with new releases and sign up for Melanie’s mailing list:

http://bit.ly/2P7MATT

Website: www.melanieharlow.com

Monday, September 16, 2019

Lost Years- Review

Lost Years by MK Schiller
Release Date: September 16, 2019


BLURB

Ever had a dream so real it feels like a memory?

I’ve had those kinds of dreams since I was a kid. Each one of a beautiful girl, who is my best friend. We grow up together on a sunny island surrounded by water that’s as blue as her eyes. We share all our hopes and fears until we realize we belong to each other in every way one person claim another. She is my own personal serenity. Sweet story, eh?

Well forget about it.

The cold, harsh reality is that I’m a twenty-year-old, Manhattan-bred, manwhore, who uses his fists to solve his problems. The only comfort I find is inside a bottle... and the dreams. But the dreams are my illness not my cure. Just when things look the darkest, the sun slaps me square in the jaw. I spot a picture of a scenic island surrounded by the bluest water – my island.

If the island exists then so must the girl, right?

So I’m headed to Serenity, Texas to find my girl and make some sense out of the chaos that is my life. Feel free to tag along, but this journey comes with a steep warning — dreams can turn into nightmares in the blink of an eye.

My name is Jason Flynn and this is our story.


GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46157127-lost-years



PURCHASE LINKS

US: https://amzn.to/2A9KGsZ
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AU: https://amzn.to/2m7LLxY
B&N: http://bit.ly/2k47SEG
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Apple Books: https://apple.co/2lHXCCJ
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2kDUW8X
Books2Read: https://books2read.com/u/mlaEKv

My ReviewMy Rating: 3.5 stars


I thought this was a cute story. I liked the twist towards the end and I felt that it all made sense. Scarlett was well written and you can see them together in his dreams. Most of their relationship is seen through his dreams and so when they meet in real life the feelings that Jason has don't seem rushed. I enjoyed the dreams and I enjoyed the twist of how they seem real. I felt the writing was simplistic, but overall it was a cute, easy read. I have included a 4th excerpt to show the writing skills.

#4

I tickled her ribcage, rolling us over. I would regret this. Her giggles made me hard all over again and I fought against the urge to hear one of her moans. “Funny, smartass. You owe me a ghost story. Go.”

“I don’t have any ghost stories.”
My fingers paused. “Then tell me something that scares you so we’re even.”

“Santa Claus.”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“I swear it’s true.”

My eyes blinked in disbelief. “Santa Not axe murders, serial killers, or clowns?”

“Oh no, those things are scary too, but you said one thing. This is in keeping with the theme of your story.”

I moved off her, crossed my arms under my head, and laid on my back. “What about St. Nick freaks you out, Texas?”

“You can’t laugh.” She bit her bottom lip. I struggled because I wanted to bite it too.

”Okay”

“Do better than that.” She held out her pinky to me. I curled mine around hers. 

“Get on with the story.” God, I wanted to taste her again. Taste her everywhere.

“Okay, so I was six or seven. Before my father left for that one-of- a-kind brand of smokes, he
decided to take us to visit my grandparents for the holidays. As usual, my mom was pissed at him. She complained the whole way that we should’ve gone to her relatives. It was constant griping about the car being too hot and that he needed to find a job.

“She brought up his promise to take me to see Santa. It was her way of guilting him. We were on some back road when he pulled over at this small hole in the wall country store. The kind that sells homemade jams and ammunition. Oh, and of course, cigarettes.

“It must have been fate because there was a sign announcing Santa would be there. My dad gave my mom one of those ‘I planned this all along looks.’ Random, right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Anyway, we had to wait since Santa was running late... My mom complained about that too, but she lightened up when my dad told her to buy something nice for herself. After an hour, Santa finally showed up.”

“And he turned out to be an old creepy guy?”

She grinned, undoing the last braid she’d made. She combed her fingers through the strands. “No, he was wonderful. He had a real beard and everything. Since I was the only kid in the place, I got to spend a lot of time with him. He listened while I rattled on about all the dumb stuff I wanted. He even asked me questions.”

“Then why are you afraid of him?”

“That didn’t happen until later. When we finally left I saw this huge shiny red pick-up in the parking lot. The front was decorated with garland. The words, ‘Santa’s Sleigh’ was painted on the side. My father got some dad feelings and said, ‘look Scar, that right there is Santa’s truck.’” She made a hand gesture imitating the scene. “I asked him why Santa didn’t have his real sleigh.
“Dad said it was because his sleigh could only be used on Christmas Eve. When he was doing normal Santa stuff, he used the truck. I got really excited and thought my present might be in the back. That made total sense, right?”

“It kind of does.”

“Well, before my dad could stop me, I ran around and jumped on the tailgate. I lifted the blue tarp covering the truck bed and stuck my head inside.” She shivered, the goose bumps on her arms visible. “I’ve never been the same since.”

I tensed with her narration. “What the hell was in there?” I rubbed her arms. My head ran through a montage of horror films, each image worse than the last.

“The bloody corpse of a ten-point buck.”

If I’d been drinking something, I would have choked. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish. Turns out Santa was a hunter. The reason he ran so late was because he’d had himself a nice kill. The whole trip home, I screamed, “Santa shot Dancer. Santa killed Dancer. Dancer is dead. I have no clue why I thought it was Dancer, and not one of the other reindeer. But ever since then, Santa freaks me out. I even stopped leaving cookies out after that.”


AUTHOR BIO

Not knowing a word of English, MK Schiller came to America at the age of four from India. Since then, all she's done is collect words. After receiving the best gift ever from her parents--her very own library card--she began reading everything she could get her greedy hands on. At sixteen, a friend asked her to make up a story featuring the popular bad boy at school. This wasn't fan fiction...it was friend fiction. From that day on, she's known she wanted to be a writer. With the goal of making her readers both laugh and cry, MK Schiller has penned more than a dozen books, each one filled with misfit characters overcoming obstacles and finding true love.


AUTHOR LINKS

Website: http://www.mkschillerauthor.com
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MKSchillerauthor
Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/mk.schiller
Facebook Misfit Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/MKMisfit
Facebook Novel Sirens Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheNovelSirens
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/MK-Schiller/e/B00FE0FGDM
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MKSchiller
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7223625.M_K_Schiller
Newsletter: http://www.mkschillerauthor.com/newsletter-sign-up
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mk.schiller
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mk-schiller
Linktree: https://linktr.ee/MKSchiller

Thursday, July 25, 2019

Unconditional You Excerpt and Giveaway

Unconditional You by Ceri Grenelle

Series: Stupid Awesome Love #5


EXCERPT

“This is quite the reunion then.”

“One I would have avoided if possible.”

“You said you have business to discuss? I’m so intrigued.” His facetiousness, which was once fun, has now turned biting. We’re on opposite sides, no longer partners in crime.

“I want to meet Mr. Nilsson, and you’re going to introduce me.”

“I don’t know who Nilsson is. And he doesn’t go by Mr. Nilsson.”

I sigh at the obvious misstep. He knows what he’s doing.

“If you don’t know him then how do you know he doesn’t go by Mr. Nilsson?”

“Sorry?”

“You said you don’t know him, so how do you know the nomenclature he prefers?”

“All staff are briefed on the host.”

“And you’re just a regular, nobody, member of the staff.”

“Yes. That’s me—”

“Sir!” A young man in a waiter’s tux bursts through the patio doors. “The caterer is freaking out. She can’t find her late-night peanut butter and jelly puff pastries.”

“Why are you asking me?” he asks stiffly without looking away from me. “Why would I know where the caterer’s puff pastries are?”

The kid looks like the waiter is a world-class idiot and speaks very slowly, a thick New York accent peeking out.

“Because you’re the chief of staff, which you made us repeat back to you three times in a row. In unison.”

He glances at me, and I raise my eyebrow, a victorious but subtle gesture.
He turns back to the boy, clearing his throat.

“Tell the caterer to check the walk-in in the second kitchen. Some of the overflow went there.”

“Thanks.” The kid is gone as fast as he arrived.

Kai's expression is as innocent as a newborn baby taking a shit.

“Surely the chief of staff, the representative of the man of the house, knows and has met his boss.”

He folds his hand behind his back, rocks on his feet.
“Even if I do know Nilsson a little, why would I agree to arrange a meeting?”

“Because I have something he wants.”

“And what’s that?”

“A life away from the spotlight. Away from the people he hates. An easy life with no expectations.”

He stops moving, his eyes narrowing. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“Just that. A proposal. Of marriage.”

He stares at me, his eyes wide, and then he laughs. I knew he would, the idea so outrageous and outdated. But I have my sources, and I know Nilsson is as desperate as I am. I keep my expression neutral, unaffected by his reaction.

“There are at least a hundred women,” he says, finally composing himself, “inside that ballroom that want to provide what you’re suggesting. What makes you think you have anything to offer? Your family reputation is tarnished, thanks to that article. What advantage could you give Nilsson?”

He’s listening. Time for my pitch.
“Those women come with rules and expectations. They want his name and the privilege that brings. They want him at their side at galas, showing him off like a fucking engagement ring or a puppy with a diamond collar.”

“What do you come with?”

“Freedom. The freedom for Nilsson to do whatever the fuck he wants. Stay holed up in this mansion. Travel the world. Never see me, not once. I’ll agree to anything he wants, as long as I get what I want.”

“He’s already free. He’s richer than Croesus—”

“Which I hear will change if he doesn’t marry by the end of the year.”

If silence could kill, Kai’s weapon of choice would be made of a narrow looks.

“How do you know that?”

Play it cool. Hook him and trap him.
“I have my sources.”

We face off for a moment, the tension riding us, stirring us. Eventually he shrugs, acting nonchalant.

“It doesn’t matter. Even with that knowledge, you don’t have anything special to offer. You don’t know him, and he doesn’t want just anyone.”

“You’re right. No one knows him or what he wants. I don’t know what happened to him after his parents’ death, what made him the way he is now. Maybe he’s disfigured or crippled or just really really shy. Maybe he’s a drag queen by night, and he knows at least a quarter of the men and women in there won’t give to his charities anymore if they discover his true self. I don’t know why, and I don’t need to know. I don’t care. I want one thing.”

He doesn’t ask, and I don’t wait for him to. I don’t need his permission or his acknowledgment.
You don’t own me.
“I want the money.”

He takes a step back, disgust clear on his face, even in the dim light of the patio.
“Of course you do. Christ.”

“I want a limited amount, and I’m willing to sign a contract, a prenup, whatever he thinks necessary.”

“How much?”

“That’s for Mr. Nilsson and me to discuss.”

He shakes his head and the disappointed expression almost makes me waver. Almost.

“You’re just like them,” he grits out.

“What did you think I’d become after you disappeared?”
It’s the only memory I let slip, the only sign I’m angry at him and still holding a grudge.

His eyes are fathomless as he takes me in. “Better.”
He turns on a stiff heel, and as he walks out, calls back, “Nilsson will be in touch.”

“How? A text?” I lay on the sarcasm, thick and cynical.

He pauses, his hand hovering over the doorknob lightly, no sign seeing me has had any effect on him at all.

“Email. Cell service isn’t very reliable around these parts.”

“Just like the people here. What a life he must live.”

He grins. It’s cold. So unlike anything I remember. “Life is the ultimate delivery system for disillusionment.”
With a snap of the door frame, he’s gone.

I sag against the railing and down my glass of champagne. The alcohol burns and carbonation fills my lungs like balloons.
There. It’s done.
The wheels are in motion. I’m on my way to seeing the arts program finally succeed, and I survived a meeting with Kai.
Not half bad for a night’s work.


PURCHASE LINKS 

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AUTHOR BIO

Ceri is the author of quirky and sexy contemporary romance novels. She has a major weakness for sappy cuddle moments as much as hot and steamy sex scenes, and a penchant for writing snappy and sarcastic dialogue. She loves romance that isn't afraid to be awkward and uncouth, and thrives on flawed characters with big hearts.

A New York native, Ceri now lives in California with her two cats, Mercy and Eugene Fitzherbert, who should be very thankful she didn't name him frying pan. She is a proud functioning introvert and lover of all things geeky. You can find her haunting the Twitter machine or posting pictures of her ridiculous cats on Instagram.

Want exclusive content, bonus scenes, and more? Sign up for my newsletter.


AUTHOR LINKS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CeriGAuthor
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cerigrenelle
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/cerigauthor
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/cerigrenelle
Newsletter: https://bit.ly/2rCGZHV
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2CSDK2J
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ceri-grenelle
Website: http://www.cerigrenelle.com


GIVEAWAY

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