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Blog Tour with Review: Collision Point (Brute Force #1) by Lora Leigh

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Riordan “Rory” Malone is a force to be reckoned with. A member of the Brute Force Protection Agency and an operative working with the Elite Ops, Rory is the fiercest of warriors and protectors. Honed from the strong Irish stock of their grandfather and sharpened to a razor’s edge, Malone men live for one single purpose: to protect the women who own them, body and soul. From the moment he saw Amara Resnova, he knew she could be that woman.

But Amara, daughter of an alleged notorious crime lord, is a force in her own right. When she betrays her father, she’s finds herself in the arms of a man who is dangerous for her body and soul.

Can Rory keep Amara safe while protecting his own heart? Can Amara trust Rory not to break hers even as the danger mounts, threatening to take them and their passion to a breaking point?

Purchase Links:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2DUJSvU

Amazon PB: http://amzn.to/2BCPllw


My Review

Collision Point is the first book in the all new, exciting Brute Force Series from author Lora Leigh. One of the first things about this book that caught my attention was the cover. The cover was absolutely stunning. I loved the colors and the way that it was set up. My eyes were completely drawn to it, and it was that moment, that I knew I had to read the synopsis. And let me just say, if the cover wasn’t enough, the synopsis sealed the deal for me. I knew I just had to get my hands on this book and check it out.

Told from dual points of view, Collision Point follows the story Riordan and Amara. Riordan is a force to be reckoned with. He is tough. He is fierce. He is protective. He is the kind of guy that you would want standing up for you and keeping watch of your back. He is the best in his line of work. However, the one thing he never planned on, was Amara. From the moment he laid eyes on Amara, he knew she was the one. He would do anything for her. Anything to keep her safe. Even if it meant dying for her…Being the daughter of a notorious crime lord is anything but easy. But, don’t let that fool you, Amara is a force to be reckoned with. However, Amara’s world is about to be turned upside down. When she falls in love with the one person she’s not supposed to, all bets are off. With danger around every corner and a year of time that is unaccounted for, Amara is about to embark on the craziest ride yet…

Overall, I thought this book was an ok read. The prologue sucked me in and had me asking a million questions. I was totally captivated and couldn’t wait for more. I enjoyed Riordan and Amara together. You could tell that the two of them shared an intimate past and that they once meant the world to each other. I loved their chemistry and looked forward to when all the pieces to the puzzle clicked for Amara.

Collision Point is a fast paced romantic suspense novel that will keep you on the edge your seat and will leave you guessing the entire time. From kidnappings and danger around every corner to amnesia and the thirst for truth, to love and those unforgettable sexy moments, this book hits all the marks for a suspenseful read. I think this series is off to a solid start and would definitely be open to checking out more from this author in the future.

*I was provided an ARC copy of this book via the publisher & NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review*

EXCERPT

Chapter one

Six months later

She’d been told that West Texas in the spring wasn’t much different from West Texas in the fall, but as Amara Resnova pulled in the driveway of the small house outside Alpin, she felt she had to disagree with that summation.

Stretched out in front of the house with its wraparound porch was a lush green valley fed by a lazily running stream winding through it. Sunlight speared from the cloudless blue sky, bright and warm, spreading its heat in a comforting embrace.

And the charming little house sat just beneath the warming sunlight. Spreading out in front of it was the picturesque valley; behind it, the normal West Texas part-grass, part-scrub, potential-desert landscape that never failed to amaze her.

On a rising knoll stood a lone tree, thickly branched and heavily leafed, shading what appeared to be a small cemetery. Rather than looking desolate and lonely, that little plot of land with its surrounding black iron fence, appeared instead to keep watch over the land below it. As though those buried there kept a gentle eye on those who came after them.

As isolated as the property was, it should have appeared stark. Instead, an air of contentment and peace lay over it. As though the land, the house, the vibrant green of the valley, and the cemetery that overlooked it all, knew all there was about life and love and had locked all those secrets within it to sustain it.

Drawing in a deep breath to steady herself against the fears she hadn’t been able to push behind her even in such a lovely setting, Amara turned off the engine, forced her hands not to shake, and opened the door before stepping into the warmth that filled the valley.

It wasn’t a blazing heat, but rather a gentle wave that filled the air and wafted around her. And in it there was a strange sense of familiarity. A “been there before” feeling that had her heart racing, her mouth drying as she stared around and drew in the sights and whispered sounds of a land as yet untouched by civilized life.

Here, a person could see the stars at night rather than the city lights. The sound of the lonely coyote rather than the rush of traffic. Peace rather than a hectic race.

Here, perhaps, she could find some answers. And maybe there was a chance to find everything she’d lost.

Tugging the hem of her tank, she straightened it over the band of her jeans beneath the light denim jacket she wore as she walked slowly from the car to the stone path that led to the porch. The thick carpet of grass stretched from the valley to surround the house, but she’d noticed as she parked that it became sparser at the back. As though that carpet of green with its lazy stream could only struggle so far to embrace the weathered home.

The dark blue pickup parked at the side of the house attested that someone lived there. And she knew the vehicle belonged to the man those in town called Grandpops Malone.

Riordan Malone Sr. was grandfather to Riordan Malone the younger, she’d been told, when she stopped at the gas station and auto repair garage outside town that bore the name MALONE AND BLAKE—SERVICE AND REPAIR. There, she’d learned Riordan the younger was part owner but currently out at his “grandpops’” place.

Riordan.

That name haunted her dreams, her fantasies. Though the man in those dreams wasn’t an old man. The one who came to her in those nightly images was tall, strong, impossibly sexy.

As Amara forced herself to walk to the porch, she looked around, searching for the face, listening for the voice of a man she knew only in those dreams. The man she’d escaped her father’s protection to go search for.

Was he friend or foe?

Even she couldn’t answer that question, not fully. But for some reason, she couldn’t seem to help the need to learn which he would be.

As her foot lifted to the first step, the front door creaked, causing her to pause, to wait with bated breath as it slowly opened to reveal an aged, gray-haired gentleman she suspected was Riordan Sr., Grandpops.

In his worn loose jeans, well-washed white shirt with sleeves folded neatly back below his elbows, scuffed leather boots, and with that serene expression, the man looked as old and wise as the mountains themselves. And there was no doubt he was just as damn stubborn.

“Well, hello there.” The smile that lifted the corners of his mouth was reflected in his dark blue eyes. “Can I help ya, young lady?”

There was a whisper of a lyrical accent. Irish. Just a whisper though, not the full, male lilt she sometimes heard in memories that never fully revealed themselves.

“I’m looking…” She swallowed nervously. “I’m looking for Riordan Malone.”

His head tilted to the side, his thick graying hair neatly trimmed but giving a hint of the rogue he must have been in his youth.

“I’d say you’re looking for my grandson rather than myself,” he said gently. “He should be along in a bit. His da just called to say he’s done stole that wild pony again and headed this way.” A chuckle filled the air. “Come along up to the porch and sit with me till he arrives. That wild beast always gives a show when he comes barreling through the valley.”

Moving gingerly up the steps to the porch, she followed him to the comfortable-looking cushioned rockers that faced the valley.

“Does he steal ponies often?” She frowned as she sat down, feeling more off balance than she’d felt in her life—which was saying something considering the past six months.

“Just that wild-assed black son of a satan that took a liking to him.” He grinned back at her, his gnarled hands gripping the arms of the rocker loosely. “His da threatens to kill the beast every time Riordan takes it out. He swears it’s gonna kill the boy.”

Boy.

That didn’t sound like the man she was searching for. But, everything she learned assured her this was the one place she was certain to find him.

“Ahh, here he comes now.” Fondness filled the old man’s tone as he motioned to the valley.

He appeared at first as no more than a storm of dust rising beyond the verdant green of the valley.

Amara watched, her heart racing as that trail of dust grew steadily closer.

It was an imposing sight, she had to admit.

A sensual, exhilarating sight.

The horse, black as midnight, neck extended, flying across the deserted landscape, was enough to hold the eye. But the sight of the man, bent low to the horse’s neck, black hair flying back from his face, riding without a saddle, was a bit more than simply imposing.

It was exhilarating.

Imposing and savage and wildly erotic.

Amara could feel her body responding to the sight, weakening, filling with a sensual lassitude she couldn’t combat.

“Be watching this now. That horse loves ta take him on a wild ride he does,” Grandpops said softly.

The horse flew over a gully as though he had wings, before jumping the stream, neck and legs extended as it went airborne for precious seconds. The animal then took a series of fences as though they were nothing, and as she stared, she felt she knew how those women felt from centuries past as they watched a conquering warrior bearing down on them.

When the horse flew over the fence that enclosed the house yard, Amara was certain there was no way it could pull up before slamming headfirst into the porch itself.

With no more than a few yards to spare, the beast came up on his hind legs, a triumphant equine scream filling the air before landing again and prancing about with pure high-spirited joy before finally settling.

And Riordan sat firm on the animal’s back the whole time, holding onto the horse’s mane rather than a bridle, thighs gripping the animal’s heaving sides as he stared at her with blazing, furious blue eyes before turning them on his grandfather.

The younger Riordan dismounted smoothly, the soles of his moccasined feet hitting the ground as he slapped the beast on the rump. It came up on its hind legs once more in another display of savage beauty as it reared up, pawed the air, then shot off back the way it came the second it landed.

Flying like the wind, strong legs launching it over the fence, the gully, then the stream before a trail of dust followed it around the bend of the mountain.

So much beauty, she thought. A display of savage male temper and strength, and no less showed in Riordan’s expression as he propped his hands on his lean waist and glared up at her where she sat next to his grandfather on the porch.

Well-worn denim encased his hips and legs, and the moccasins that covered his feet weren’t fringed or fancy, just well made. A black T-shirt stretched across a broad chest, emphasizing his muscular abs and making her fingers itch to remove it.

Yes, this was him. The savage who invaded her dreams, the fury who slashed at her nightmares. Vivid sapphire eyes, daunting features, proud, imposing. A man who knew his own demons as well as those that inhabited other men. Or women.

She rose slowly to her feet, aware of Riordan’s “grandpops” as he sat comfortably in his rocker, watching in interest.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the words that passed from his lips caused her to flinch; their icy tone caused her heart to sink.

The tender tone, the edge of lust and hunger she’d dreamed of, was nowhere in sight.

His gaze raked over her and there was none of the sensual promise she’s seen in his eyes when he’d invaded her dreams, none of the dominant sensualist who tormented her with his touch in her fantasies.

She hadn’t expected this. This wild fury and enraged demand. He didn’t seem the least bit glad to see her, she had to admit. What made her think he would be? she wondered.

Was she wrong? Did she not know him?

She was certain she had to have known him, certain that somehow, someway, they must have meant something to each other. Could she have been so wrong?

“Riordan!” Grandpops’ surprised tone had a grimace contorting Riordan’s face.

Evidently the grandfather thought little of the grandson’s language.

“Grandpops, perhaps you should go back to Grant’s.” He turned to his grandfather, his voice firm. “Noah, Sabella, and the babies will be there in a bit.”

Grandpops continued to glower at him.

“I’m certain I can handle whatever language he wants to use, Mr. Malone,” she assured the older man. “I’m not exactly a stranger to it these days.”

Her father cursed more often, brooded more often, and Amara knew the situation she’d found herself in was weighing on him. If she didn’t do something, didn’t fix things, then she was terrified of what may happen. Of what her father would do to fix things himself.

“But can his grandmother?” The old man sounded disappointed rather than angry. “Remember whose home your using that language in, boy.”

Rising from his chair, Grandpops moved to the steps stiffly and made his way down, casting his grandson yet another warning glare.

“Drive carefully, Grandpops. No more racing with those Brickford boys,” Riordan stated as his grandfather passed by.

And Amara could have sworn she saw a gleeful grin tease at the older man’s lips. But he merely grunted as he passed.

A few moments later the truck started, and they watched Grandpops ease around the circular drive and onto the road that led to the small valley.

The silence that stretched between them was heavy—with his anger and her uncertainty.

As the truck took the curve around the rising hill, she turned back to Riordan and tucked her hands into the pockets of her light jacket, her fingers curling into fists.

She’d faked the last six months with friends and most of her family. Taking cues from her father and his assistant Nikolai, she’d smiled and faked her way through every damn meeting and gathering she’d been forced to attend until she slipped silently from her father’s estate the week before and, in essence, ran away from home.

Not that he was letting her run without giving chase. He and his men weren’t far behind her and she knew it. They’d almost caught up with her the night before, outside Houston. If she didn’t do something, if she didn’t find a way to eliminate the threat shadowing her, then her poppa could do something she may not be able to live with. And it was that decision that sent her running to Alpine and the man who shadowed her dreams.

She was here now. She’d found the man she’d gone searching for, and she knew the days of lying and pretending to be who she’d been six months before were over.

She lifted her head, straightened her shoulders, and stared up at him in determination.

“Whatever I did to you, I’m sorry,” she told him, miserably aware that if she’d offended him in the past, angered him, then there was the possibility it couldn’t be fixed with an apology. She hadn’t been the nicest person she could have been in the past.

His eyes narrowed on her before once again moving to sweep over the landscape. There was a tension that surrounded him, a steady watchfulness she’d noticed her father and Ilya always carried as well. That prepared and ready-for-action thing strong men always seemed to carry with them.

“Go home, Amara,” he told her when those brilliant eyes turned back to her. “Go back to daddy. This is no place for you.”

He knew her. He was angry, but for a second, she swore she saw something more in that flash of heat in his expression.

“No. Riordan, please.” He couldn’t make her leave. Not yet, not until he knew what was coming, because what was coming didn’t affect just her. She could sense it, her dreams assured her of it.

Turning, Riordan dismissed her just that easily and strode up the steps to the porch, leaving her to stand alone as the storm door slammed behind his retreating back.

Alone.

Strange, but this feeling of “alone” didn’t seem nearly as unfamiliar as it should have.

Inhaling deeply, she followed him rather than doing as ordered. Not that she often did as she was ordered. That was probably how she found herself where she was now. Opening the door quietly, she stepped into the house, her gaze taking in the homey atmosphere of the large living area.

A comfortable leather couch, recliner, and matching chairs were grouped around a cold fireplace. The mantle held a variety of family pictures that she would have loved to have time to check out. The wood floor was smooth, aged with a sheen of time and caring.

There were more family pictures in frames on the wall, many appeared old and passed down through the years, the frames lovingly polished, the photos a bit faded from time.

As she stepped into the room, Riordan watched her silently, leaning against the wide doorframe into the kitchen, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he simply stared at her, his expression still and remote.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, that rumble of his deep voice sending a stroke of sensation up her spine.

What was she doing here?

Trying to survive, to live.

“I need your help.” She had to force herself to say the words, and still they came out as barely more than a whisper. “Please, Riordan. I need your help.”

* * *

Six months.

For six bloody months this damn woman had tormented his dreams while asleep and his thoughts while awake. He’d given his life for her on a dark, blood-filled night, then again on an operating table, only to be told she never wanted to see him again when he’d been released. And now, two months after he’d returned to Texas, here she was.

Son of a bitch. Just when he thought he could get through a night without being tormented by her, she just showed up out of the blue. And it was all he could do not to touch her, to jerk her to him and show her exactly what she was dealing with in coming to him.

But, she’d been his weakness from the moment he’d met her, hadn’t she? From the second his gaze touched hers, she’d been the one woman he couldn’t get out his head. And God knew he’d fought it.

Tiny and delicate, she made a man want to wrap her in cotton and hide her away from the world. Resilient, stubborn, and independent, she made a man realize fast that she wouldn’t allow him to do so.

Her once-long, straight silky black hair was shorter now, courtesy of her abductors. At first jagged and close to her scalp, it had grown a good six inches or so and feathered around her delicate face becomingly. Piercing gray-blue eyes stared back at him, somberly.

Frightened.

Riordan straightened from the doorframe, his eyes narrowing on her. That was fear in her eyes, along with the uncertainty and the heat he always saw there.

“You need my help?” he couldn’t help the mockery that tinged his voice simply because it flooded every corner of his mind. “Strange, two months ago you never wanted to see my damn lying ass again. What changed?”

What had changed? For a moment, that question had her pausing.

God, if only she could tell him. She was damned if she knew herself what had changed. All she knew was that now, six months after she’d awakened, she was unable to remember what had happened or who had abducted her or what they had wanted. The nightmares had grown worse, the sense of imminent danger and panic that fueled them had become overwhelming. In each one, this man stood with his hand outstretched, his voice whispering to her, urging her to find him. To come to him.

She swallowed tightly, uncertain what to say, how to explain. She didn’t trust him, not by any means. But she didn’t trust anyone now. She didn’t know who to trust.

“I’m sorry.” But she was damned if she could remember telling him he wasn’t wanted.

No doubt she’d had a good reason. Savagely hewn, rough and sexy, and a cowboy to boot. No doubt he had a wandering eye and hands that had no idea how to be faithful. The one type of man she despised. But personal fidelity and the ability to protect weren’t always intimately acquainted, she’d since learned. The man who cheated on his wife and walked away from his children could also be the very man willing to give his life for that same woman, or those children.

Men had never made sense to her, even from an early age. But she didn’t need him to make sense to her, she needed him to fulfill the promise he made in her dreams and help her figure out who was determined to see her dead and why she was so certain it was someone she knew and loved.

“You’re sorry?” he snorted, flashing her a look filled with disgust. “Fine, go home and be sorry there. I don’t have time for it here.”

The panic was beginning to build inside her chest. It thundered through her veins and raced to her heart. If he made her leave, if he threw her out and forced her to run again, she was going to die, and she knew it.

“You promised you’d help me,” she snapped, her tone more demanding than she would like despite her uncertainty and the fact that the words tore from her almost involuntarily. “You swore it. You can’t renege now.”

Had he really promised, or had she just dreamed it? Was the memory of that dark little hole and the pain that filled her just another nightmare? Had he really been there, swearing he’d always save her, or had she just imagined it?

“Did I now?” Softly voiced, the question held that bit of Irish sexy, lyrical sound that she often heard in those fantasy dreams filled with pleasure rather than pain. “And when did that happen?”

She shook her head. Memory or nightmare?

“You swore you’d always be there if I needed you.” She fought to believe it was memory. “All I had to do was reach out to you. Well, dammit, I’m reaching out. Do you want me to beg too?”

She could see his hand outstretched, his expression somber, demanding. He wouldn’t come to her, she had to go to him.

Riordan felt as though his world had narrowed, that nothing existed but this moment, this woman, and the dreams that had haunted him. Dreams of her cries, her pleas that he come to her. And no matter how desperately he tried to reach her, she was always but a touch away. No matter how often he’d urged her to take his hand, to come to him, just reach out to him, she never did.

The dreams had become so insistent over the months, he’d actually contacted his former security team members who still worked for her father to check up on her.

All was well, he’d been told. Princess Resnova was still the princess, and the czar still protected her like the cherished daughter she would always be. And still, he dreamed, reached out to her, and urged her to take his hand.

I’ll always be here for you. Just reach out to me.

He hadn’t told her that, he’d whispered those words in a dream.

And son of a bitch if that wasn’t enough to make a man force himself not to shake in his boots.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why the hell do you need me when your father has over fifty protection agents, and every damn one of them is on call in case they’re needed to protect you? What the fuck do you need with me?”

Damn her. She’d waited six months to come to him. She’d let him lie in a hospital out of the country, half alive for weeks, and hadn’t once called or reached out him. Why the hell was she short circuiting his brain now?

“I need you to help me,” she whispered again. “I need someone I can trust with my life, Riordan, before I die because I don’t know anymore who’s a friend and who’s the enemy. But you might know. I need someone I can trust to watch my back while I figure out who the hell is trying to kill me and why.”

Kill her?

According to every source he had in her father’s organization, she was safe. The men at the farmhouse where they’d found her were all killed. The bodyguard they’d identified as being behind the abduction and her beating was dead as well.

“Your father’s men can protect you.” God help him. If he even tried, he’d get them both killed—because he wouldn’t be able to stay out of her bed.

She was shaking her head even as he spoke. “I don’t trust them. I don’t trust anyone.” Desperation filled her expression now. “You don’t understand, Riordan. All I have are these crazy dreams of you. Every nightmare I have you’re at my back, protecting me. That’s all I have because I don’t remember what happened before my abduction or the abduction itself. I’ve lost a year of my life and I don’t know why and I damn sure can’t force those memories back,” she cried out, fury filling her tone. “All I have are the nightmares and dreams, and the only person I can see, the only person I can trust in them is you. And by God, I want to know why.”

She faced him, fists clenched, anger flushing her face, but that was heat in her eyes. It wasn’t just nightmares she had, it wasn’t simply dreams.

It was this bond he could sense between them even as she stared back at him, furious, frightened.

And he’d waited long enough.

Taking the steps that separated them, he jerked her into his arms, his lips stilling her cries, his arms tightening around her, holding her to him.

Her lips parted in shock, and he took full advantage of it. He tasted her. Lips and tongue possessed her kiss, and he let his senses grow drunk on her.

Because somehow, someway, she’d shared not just her dreams with him, but those incredibly erotic fantasies that filled his head as well.

And now, he wanted a taste of all that passion, that feminine hunger and need he hadn’t nearly had enough of before her abduction.

Then they could discuss the rest.

Copyright © 2018 by Lora Leigh in Collision Point and reprinted with permission from St. Martin’s Paperbacks.

Author Bio:

#1 New York Times bestseller Lora Leigh is the author of the Navy SEALS, the Breeds, the Elite Ops, the Callahans, the Bound Hearts, and the Nauti series.

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Twitter– @LoraLeigh_1

Review: One and Only by Jenny Holiday

In this laugh-out-loud romantic comedy, USA Today bestselling author Jenny Holiday proves that when opposites attract, sparks fly.

Miss Responsibility meets Mr. Reckless

With her bridezilla friend on a DIY project rampage, bridesmaid Jane Denning will do anything to escape–even if it means babysitting the groom’s troublemaker brother before the wedding. It should be a piece of cake, except the “cake” is a sarcastic former soldier who is 100% wicked hotness and absolutely off-limits.

Cameron MacKinnon is ready to let loose after returning from his deployment. But first he’ll have to sweet talk the ultra-responsible Jane into taking a walk on the wild side. Turns out, riling her up is the best time he’s had in years. But what happens when the fun and games start to turn into something real?

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2CatPcr


My Review

One and Only was a fun and quick read. I fell in love with the synopsis from the moment I read it and just knew I had to check out this book. I mean, a bridesmaid who gets stuck having to babysit the groom’s brother! I couldn’t wait to see what trouble these two would get in to. Cameron and Jane were a lot of fun together. Cameron was perfectly flawed and sexy. He showed Jane what is was like to let go and in turn, Jane brought some much needed light into his life. Overall, I thought these two were great together. I loved their chemistry and I enjoyed seeing Cameron push Jane’s buttons.

One and Only is the first book in the Bridesmaids Behaving Badly Series and was a good book to spend the day wrapped up in. This book was sexy, entertaining and kept me on my toes. I enjoyed the characters and couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. This is my first book by this author and I look forward to checking out more from her in the future.

*I was provided an ARC copy of this book via the publisher and NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review*

Review: Potions & Fangs by Alyssa Rose Ivy and Jennifer Snyder

College life bites…

Fern wants to blend in. On a campus with thousands of students she may finally have the chance, even if she has to contend with her witchy secret. Still, something is missing. Quite possibly someone. After sending an email to the guy she’s crushed on for forever she doesn’t expect an answer, let alone the possibility that their former co-worker friendship could turn into something far less platonic.

Holder is searching for himself. He took a chance and followed his passion for art to Savannah. Unfortunately, that same passion will lead to his death. Emails to Fern are the only way he’s staying sane and it isn’t long before he realizes he can’t survive without her. Literally.

College is supposed to be rough, but when you’re a witch trying to hide your talents or a guy hoping he doesn’t sparkle in the sunlight, it just might be rough enough to kill you.

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2slLJVR


My Review

Potions & Fangs follows the story of Fern and Holder. On a campus of thousands, Fern wants nothing more than to blend in and keep her truth a secret. Feeling as though something is missing, Fern takes a chance and emails Holder. She has had a crush on Holder for forever and never thought he would answer her emails….Holder is lost and wants nothing more than to find who he truly is. College is hard for the average person, but when life throws a major curveball at Holder, only time will tell if he can handle what now lies ahead for him….

Overall, I thought this novella was a quick and easy read. I loved the writing style and found it to be very unique. I liked the email set up, but would have loved to have seen more real dialogue in addition to the emails. I loved the ease and fun banter between Fern and Holder. You could tell their friendship was real and could feel sprinklings of something more along the way. You could definitely tell these two had real chemistry and as much as I loved their emails to one another, I would have liked to experience their relationship transition to something more.

Potions & Fangs is a unique concept with with easy flow. I enjoyed the mixing of Alyssa Rose Ivy & Jennifer Snyder’s writing style. I thought it blended seamlessly and I loved seeing what these two authors would bring to the table.

*I was provided an ARC copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review*

 

Review: We Were One by Elizabeth Reyes

The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.

~Oscar Wilde~Adoration is not profound enough a word to express the depth of my love for her. From the moment she walked into my life and set my heart and soul on fire, not a day’s gone by that she hasn’t plagued my every thought.

We were each other’s completion. She was everything I wasn’t–the sigh to my roar, the virtue to my sin, the cure to my wounds.

We Were One.

Until the unthinkable happened.

That I’ve survived such a tragedy without having completely lost it, is a mystery in itself. But as my mind starts to blur the lines between reality and my delusional heart, I begin to question everything, including my sanity.

And then the real mystery begins . . .

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2E9YSa1


My Review

When I first picked up this book, I wasn’t 100% sure what I was getting myself into. I didn’t read the first book in this series, so I was pretty much going into this story blind.

One of the first things that drew me to this story was the synopsis. It intrigued me. I loved the mystery of it and could not wait to dive into the story. We Were One is told from the male point of view and follows the story of Nico. He falls in love young and fast. She was his everything until one day, fate had other plans…..Nico’s story is one of love, heartache and loss. It is a story of moving on and hope. It is a story that will make you question everything and will have you on the edge of your seat. You will feel so many emotions. And just when you think you have an idea of what is going on, the floor will be ripped out from under you and your mind will be blown. I can’t even wrap my mind around the twist or imagine what was going through Nico’s mind. It was that good.

We Were One was a well written and intriguing read. I read it easily in just one sitting. It played with my emotions and took me for one heck of a ride. Overall, I thought this was a good read and enjoyed getting lost in the story this author created.

*I was provided an ARC copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review*

Review: A Week to Be Wild by J.C. Harroway

Harlequin DARE, a new romance series featuring strong, independent women and sizzling hot heroes. Harlequin DARE stories push the boundaries of sexual explicitness while keeping the focus on the developing romantic relationship.

Libby Noble is done with men who live on the edge, but sexy British billionaire Alex coaxes her out of her comfort zone—professionally and very personally! She’ll agree to play his game…but only by her rules!

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My Review

Another scorching read from the Harlequin Dare Line!

A Week to Be Wild follows the story of Libby and Alex. Now, I’ll be totally honest with you, this story took me a little while to get in to, but once I got in to it, I couldn’t put it down. I wanted to see how Alex and Libby’s story would play out. I really enjoyed the push and pull between the two of them. The sparks between were instant and explosive, so it was fun to watch Libby come to terms with her attraction to Alex. She wanted desperately to keep things professional between the two of them, but sparks this hot just could not be ignored…

So, my overall thoughts on this one…It was a quick and easy read just like the other books in the Dare Line. I loved the sexy and steamy moments. I thought the overall plot had great potential, I just thought the pacing was a bit off. This is my first book by this author and I would definitely be into to checking out more.

*I was provided an ARC copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review*

Release Blitz with Review: In Pieces by Danielle Pearl

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IN PIECES by Danielle Pearl

Part of the Something More series.

October 10, 2017 | Forever | Paperback: $14.00 | eBooks: $4.99

Three years ago she was left in pieces . . . Most college freshmen love the newfound freedom of living on campus, but none of them craves it like Beth Caplan. One ill-fated night when she was fifteen left her locked in a posh prison of private tutors. It’s for the best, everyone said, and maybe it was. But after years of hard work and healing, the one person who never thought of her as broken could be the one to break her all over again. And Beth can’t seem to stay away now any more than she could all those years ago. As soon as David March learned his best friend’s little sister was enrolling at his school, he promised to look after her, and promised himself he’d keep a safe distance. But the sweet little girl he’d grown up with has transformed into a gorgeous young woman, and she’s attracting attention from people she shouldn’t-like the ex who nearly destroyed her and a strange new student with a disturbing habit of showing up wherever Beth goes. But for David, the most troubling discovery is realizing that he doesn’t just want Beth to be safe. He wants her to be his.

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My Review

In Pieces follows the story of Beth and David. 3 years ago, Beth’s life was shattered by a boy that she thought she was in love with. At the time, her life felt like it was spiraling out of control and she was completely lost. Fast forward three years into the future, Beth is ready for college and a fresh start. The only thing she didn’t plan on was having her brother’s best friend as a personal bodyguard….David has always kept his distance from Beth because she is off limits. When he finds out that Beth is going to be attending his college, he wants nothing more to protect her. But Beth isn’t quite the little girl he remembers. Nope. Beth is all grown up….

Overall, In Pieces was a quick and easy read for me. I enjoyed the mystery of the story and liked that there were some chapters from the past thrown in. Those chapters really helped to get a clear picture of not only what happened to Beth, but also for David’s underlying feelings. I enjoyed Beth and David together. I thought they had a great pull and their chemistry was very palpable. I couldn’t wait to see if they would give into their feelings or not.

In Pieces is a good friends to lovers romance with a nice slow burn to it. I thought this story had some great twists and there were moments where I was definitely kept on my toes. There is a lot of drama in this story, but I think that is to be expected when reading an NA novel like this one.  Overall though, I did enjoy the story-line and liked the characters. I enjoyed the romance between Beth and David, even though it was a slow burning one.

*I was provided an ARC copy of this book via the publisher & NetGalley, in exchange for a fair and honest review*

Excerpt:

Beth startles when she notices me, and she stops walking, so I make up the distance still between us. She looks adorable as all hell in those tight jeans and loose racerback tank top. Her bra shows at her sides and I’m equally turned on and annoyed by it. She never did have any kind of self-awareness. At least not when it comes to how goddamned attractive she is. And it bugs me that every guy that’s passed her today has caught a glimpse of that black lace.

I shove my hand through my hair. “Beth,” I sigh.

I wait for her to go off on me again, but she doesn’t. She just kind of looks up at me, her resentment a palpable thing. I can’t stand to see her look at me like that. But what makes my lungs burn is knowing that I deserve her resentment. She has no idea how much. Fuck, I hope to God she never will. Especially not now that she’s come so far—that she’s doing so well. Well enough to tell me off in public, at my own party, anyway.

But not tonight, it seems, and when she still doesn’t say anything at all, I make my attempt. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I thought I was protecting you.”

“I don’t need protection,” she counters.

I nod. “I know. I just thought…Falco being around would give you an excuse to hide away in your dorm, and I wanted you to experience…”

“Experience what, David?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Fucking life, I guess.”

Beth looks down at her shoes. I hate that she won’t even look at me. “Okay, whatever,” she murmurs.

“Whatever?” I repeat incredulously. Here I am, apologizing—something I’m not exactly fucking known for—and all she has to say is whatever?

“Yeah. Whatever. I get it. It just sucks, you know?”

I take a much-needed deep breath. “I know, Bea.”

At last her eyes meet mine, hostility finally gone. I take the opportunity to retrieve my new peace offering from my back pocket. Well, not new. My worn and weathered copy of Hamlet, riddled with years’ worth of my own highlights and notes, its pages filled with more of my own words than those of the author himself. I hope it will help in her Shakespeare class. If nothing else, it will give her an invasive insight into who I am and how I think, just like all the other books I’ve given her over the years, and I wonder if she realizes just how personal it is.

She takes it, her thin brows pinched together in confused awe. “This is your copy,” she breathes.

Suddenly I feel too vulnerable, uncomfortably exposed. “Thought it could help in your class,” I half-lie. Because it’s more than that, and I suspect she knows it.

Her pretty pink lips twist into a small smile, her cheeks going even rounder than usual, and it hits me right in the chest. Not for the first time I tell myself the affection I feel for her is strictly familial. More lies.

“Thanks.”

I smile. “You eat dinner yet?”

She shrugs. “I was gonna heat a cup of noodles and study.”

Cup of fucking noodles? “Fuck that. Come to the Stu-U. Let’s get some real food.”

Beth rolls her eyes. “Fine. But just some quick food, okay? I really need to study.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Bea,” I smirk at her, and she sets free a short giggle. There it is.

I take her girly-ass backpack and slip it over my shoulder, giving her no choice but to follow me. But as soon as I turn around, my eyes catch on that same guy, just as he’s averting his gaze. Only this time he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Beth; I’m sure of it. Rage rushes through my veins, and I grit my teeth. I don’t know who the fuck this guy is, but there’s something off about him, and there’s absolutely nothing good about Beth drawing his attention.

My jaw clenches. I slip my arm protectively around her shoulders, despite just having been scolded for being overprotective. “Beth, in two seconds, I want you to subtly glance to your left, between buildings B and C, okay?”

Her brows pinch together again. She looks so damned cute when she does that. She doesn’t wait the two seconds, and her “subtle glance” is more of a full-on stare. “Glance,” I whisper-growl. I wait until she’s facing forward again, and then start leading her from the quad. “Did you see that guy?” I ask her.

She nods hesitantly.

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. He’s in my Abnormal Psych class. And I saw him last night.”

“Saw him doing what?”

“The same thing. Standing around smoking cigarettes like a fucking creep.”

“I think he was looking at you,” I admit.

“And that.”

So this isn’t the first time that guy’s been staring at Beth. Unease swirls in my gut. “Stay away from him,” I warn her.

“Do you know him?” she asks uncertainly.

“No. But I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Of course, I’ve never liked the way any guys have looked at her.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Danielle Pearl is the bestselling author of the Something More series. She lives in New Jersey with her three delicious children and ever-supportive husband, who—luckily—doesn’t mind sharing her with an array of fictional men. She did a brief stint at Boston University and worked in marketing before publishing her debut novel, Normal. She writes mature Young

Adult and New Adult contemporary romance. Danielle enjoys coffee, wine, and cupcakes, and not in moderation.

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Release Day Blitz with Review: The Corner of Forever and Always (Everland, Georgia #2) by Lia Riley

Title: THE CORNER OF FOREVER AND ALWAYS

Author: Lia Riley

Series: Everland, Georgia #2

On Sale: September 26, 2017

Publisher: Forever

Mass Market: $7.99 USD

eBook: $5.99 USD

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Fairy tales aren’t ever what they seem . . .

Tuesday Knight’s dream of Broadway stardom has flopped, leaving her unemployed and brokenhearted. Ready to quit kissing frogs and make her own happily-ever-after, she takes a job as a princess in Everland, Georgia’s historical amusement park.

Mayor Beau Marino lives an unenchanted existence-all work, no play-which is fine by him. After his marriage ended in disaster, the last thing he wants in his life is more drama. But Everland’s new free spirit has a talent for getting under his starched collar.

When the town’s beloved but bankrupt park might be shut down, Tuesday and Beau face a choice. Can they join forces, save the day-and each other? Or will their fierce battle of wills destroy any chance of a fairy-tale ending?

In the tradition of New York Times bestselling authors Kristan Higgins, Jill Shalvis, and Marina Adair, comes the second book in Lia Riley’s Everland, Georgia series about two city sisters finding love in a small town.

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My Review

Overall, I thought this book was an ok read. I loved the idea of this story and am a big fan of small town romances. I liked the tension between Beau and Tuesday and couldn’t wait to see how their story would play out.

I did have one issue with the story and that was the pacing. It was a little too slow for my liking in the beginning. Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with a slower pace read, but sometimes, if it’s too slow, it makes the story hard for me to get into. That being said, I’m glad I didn’t give up and stayed with the story, because the pacing did pick up and I did end up enjoying the story.

The Corner of Forever and Always is a sweet, small town romance and while I did have a few issues with the pacing, I’m still really glad that I picked up this book and checked it out.

*I was provided an ARC copy of this book via the publisher and NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review* 

EXCERPT

“I’m nervous.” The tightness in his tone backed up the muscles bunching near the hinge in his jaw. And the simple, honest admission did something to her that no amount of flirtatious back-and-forth ever would.

“So am I.” She began buttering the dish. “Who taught you how to cook?”

He stirred the chocolate in the double boiler, hands clenching the spoon. “Mama used to say that a man needed to know three things: how to fix a dessert, iron his own shirt and sew a button. That some day future women would thank her.”

“Smart lady.” Tuesday laughed, grateful for a moment to recalibrate, to slow her racing heart. “I suck at ironing by the way.”

Beau gave her a resolute stare. “I make my own starch.”

“Stop.” She nearly dropped the dishtowel. “No, you don’t.”

“One tablespoon of cornstarch in two cups of water.”

Her gaze fixed on the rare smile tugging the corner of his mouth. The revelation was oddly endearing. “I’m not sure whether to be impressed or terrified.”

“Your mama didn’t teach you these things?”

Tuesday thought. “We grew up in small town Maine.”

“Sounds cold.”

“So, so cold. So much snow. So much cold. Beautiful though.”

“I’d like to check it out, in summer.”

“Yeah, good idea. My dad ran a maple sugarbush farm, made homemade maple syrup. Mom was his opposite. He loved being outdoors. She liked being inside. I guess they were opposites,  must have attracted at some point but over time they repelled each other. Pushed one another further and further away. She left when I was in high school. Moved down to New Hampshire where she was from and met a banker. They live in the suburbs. She has a housekeeper now.”

“She abandoned your family?”

“I. . .you know, I don’t know. My sister thinks so. I was the baby. My mom used to love to style my hair. She could do so many intricate braids. We didn’t have much money but she’d shop at thrift stores and garage sales and find me cute dresses. Sometimes I’d find her sad and I’d try to cheer her up. I’d ask her to brush my hair and she would,  even though sometimes I could hear her sniffling and I knew if I turned around I’d see her crying.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she ground her fists into them. “Wow. Hello! Where’d these come from.” God, way to keep things light. Her inconvenient emotions would probably sink the night.

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“Me too.” She took a breath. Then another.

“Can we return to the regularly scheduled programming? Chocolate is always the cure.”

Beau looked like he might press forward but changed his mind at the last moment. “My mama taught me how to separate yolks from whites. Can I show you?”

“I won’t pretend that I have skills. Instruct away.”

“Okay, pick an egg, any egg.”

She selected a brown one and he stepped behind her, her back heating against his  chest. His arms slid over hers. “Now what you do is give it a tap to open the shell. No! Not so big, just a little one.” His hand engulfed hers, guiding the movement. “Good. That’s real good. Now let the yolk settle in one side. That’s it. Now you start to transfer the egg back and forth and back and forth, let the white run out like that until voila! All you have left is the yolk.”

Tuesday gawked at the golden yolk in the shell. “Martha Stewart eat your heart out.”

He checked the chocolate and milk, it had melted down into a decadent pool.

“Can we eat that as is? I’m sure the souffle is amazing and all but hey, a bowl of melted warm chocolate is going to do me fine.”

His laugh was just as decadently rich. “Haven’t you ever heard that good things come to those who wait?”

“Sure, by people waiting,” she quipped. “They need something to tell themselves.”

That really got him going, his deep laugh rich as sun-warmed molasses. “Let me make you a deal.”

“I’m not agreeing until I hear the terms.”

“Smart woman. When you have this dessert, you are going to say it’s better than the best sex you’ve ever had.”

She set her hands on her hips. “You have a low opinion of my sex life.”

“Nah.” He winked. “Just a very high opinion on my soufflé.”

She arched a brow. “You’re on.”

Standing behind her he continued to help guide her effortlessly through measurements and pouring, mixing and stirring. He didn’t grind on her or get perverted, not that she’d have minded. Chocolate was meant to be an aphrodisiac and she’d never experienced anything so sexily mundane as chatting over nothings in the kitchen with a man who didn’t try to cop a feel. He appreciated and and even savored her for who she was and what she offered which right now was fully dressed fairly polite company.

In fifteen minutes he opened the oven and slid the soufflé in.

“And now?”

“We wait,” he answered. “Until it’s puffed on top and jiggly in the center.”

“You have a way of making cooking sexy.”

“Do I? I guess that helps even the field.”

“How so?”

“You make breathing look sexy.” His gaze lingered on hers for a few beats before he turned and began to wash the dishes.

She stared at the back of his head, his broad shoulders, his narrow hips, blinking in surprise. He seemed wholly unaware that he’d broken her heart and put it back together, refashioned into something new, stronger and brighter.

THE EVERLAND, GEORGIA SERIES

IT HAPPENED ON LOVE STREET, #1

THE CORNER OF FOREVER AND ALWAYS, #2

Series Page on Goodreads

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lia Riley is a contemporary romance author. USA Today describes her as “refreshing” and RT Book Reviews calls her books “sizzling and heartfelt.” She loves her husband, three kids, wandering redwood forests and a perfect pour over coffee. She is 25% sarcastic, 54% optimistic, and 122% bad at math (good thing she writes happy endings for a living). She and her family live mostly in Northern California.

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