Come To Me is the third book in the Dare With Me Series and it can be read and enjoyed as a standalone novel. Come To Me follows the story of Diego and Gemma. Gemma came to this small town in Alaska in hopes of a fresh start and the last thing she needs is Diego, the broody ex-military pilot. He’s distracting and a man like him could only mean trouble for a girl like her….
Overall, I found this book to be a quick and easy read. I love the small town vibe and the slow burning romance between Diego and Gemma. I loved watching these two interact and try to figure things out. Diego might play the grumpy, broody hero. But there is a lot more to him than meets the eye. Gemma’s sass challenged Diego in the best of ways and the chemistry between the two of them will leave readers begging for more.
The road to happily ever after wasn’t an easy one. Both Gemma and Diego had some issues to overcome. But, those issues made the journey that much sweeter and left this reader with a huge smile on her face.
If you’re looking for a feel-good, small town romance that’s light on the drama and filled with spice, look no further, Come To Me is just the read you have been waiting for. This book checked off all of my small town romance boxes and in the end, left me with a big smile on my face. I had the best time getting to know these characters and couldn’t help but fall in love with their story. I look forward to checking out more from this author in the future.
*I was provided an ARC copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review*
Meet J.H. Croix:
USA Today Bestselling Author J. H. Croix lives in a small town in the historical farmlands of Maine with her husband and two spoiled dogs. Croix writes steamy contemporary romance with sassy women and rugged alpha men who aren’t afraid to show some emotion. Her love for quirky small-towns and the characters that inhabit them shines through in her writing. Take a walk on the wild side of romance with her bestselling novels!
About Rachael Rachael Brownell is an award-winning author of young adult and new adult romance. Rachael lives in Michigan with her husband, son, snuggly dog, and hateful cat. She moonlights as a bartender a few days a week (her excuse to get out of the house and socialize) and writes almost full time. Her first book was published way back in 2013 and since she’s released 30 additional titles. She writes all kinds of romance – dark, sexy, sweet. When she’s not writing her next novel, you can find her hanging out with her family, watching her son play baseball, or running on the treadmill at the gym (though she skips more days than she goes). She also enjoys golfing but is still learning, so if you see her on the course… stand back.
You know those stories where an adorably misunderstood clumsy girl needs a fake date to a wedding so she asks her brother’s best friend and they accidentally fall in love?
I wish that was the kind of life I lead, but it’s not.
I don’t need a date to a wedding. I need a date to a funeral. Clumsy sometimes fits, but then, that’s true for all of us, right? But adorable? No. Misunderstood? Nope again. I’m just your average girl, standing in front of a funeral invitation, asking it to be a winning lottery ticket instead.
And I don’t have a brother, or a best friend with a brother available, which means I’m stuck with Tyler Jaeger.
Sure, he’s a professional hockey player who also knows advanced calculus, but let’s say we’re not compatible and leave it at that. I should know. I am a matchmaker.
Not a very good one, but that’s beside the point.
I know a mismatch when I see one.
Still, Tyler’s what I’ve got, and I am not going to this funeral solo, so he’s what I’ll take.
After all—what could go wrong at a funeral?
I Pucking Love You is a hilariously wrong romantic comedy about the world’s worst matchmaker, a hockey player with a problem he doesn’t want to talk about, and an awkward date-of-convenience that everyone would prefer to forget. It comes complete with a cat working his way through his nine lives, all the sexy times, fish and chips, and a swoony happily-ever-after.
We all have to be at practice tomorrow morning—check that, this morning, as it’s shortly after midnight—but I don’t want to go home.
I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to screw.
I want a bucket of greasy fried fish and chips, because it’s what my big brother used to take me to get every time he came home on leave from the Marines and got annoyed at being hen-pecked by the four sisters between us.
My car’s cold, thanks to the early November weather, and no, I’m not telling you what kind of car I drive, because yes, it very much feels like compensation tonight.
It gets me where I want to go.
That’s all that matters.
That, and getting my ass to Cod Pieces before they close for the night.
Could I stay at the bunny bar and get fried fish and chips?
No fucking way.
I’m still stewing in my own misery when the bright neon sign with the armored cod and the storefront that looks like a medieval castle comes into view at the edge of a strip mall four miles the wrong direction from my downtown condo. I roll the window down, letting in a blast of chilly air and the scent of fries.
Just in time.
I holler my order over the sound of my engine, then pull around to the window to get my fish.
Debate calling my brother in Miami.
It’s one AM. He and his wife recently celebrated their kid’s first birthday, and I think they’re working on baby number two.
If I call him in the middle of the night to bitch about how I can’t get it up, he’ll probably hang up on me, then tell our sisters.
She’s a professional comedienne with her own popular Netflix special. There’s no damn way I’m bothering West in the middle of the night for this.
I’ll talk to the fried fish and call it even.
Has as much personality as West had before he married Daisy.
The window swings open. “That’ll be fourteen seventy-three, please.”
My car lurches forward before I remember to put it in park, and I gape up at the woman staring down at me. “Muffy?”
My brain is playing tricks on me.
It has to be.
Because there’s no way the curvy, clumsy, smart-mouthed goddess who’s haunting my dick is standing there wearing a Cod Pieces polo and hat.
But she is.
And I swear to god, her long brown braids are recoiling in horror as her whole face twists, her lip curling, her left eye squeezing shut, before she snaps herself together. “For the hundredth time today, I have no idea who this Muffy person is. My name is Octavia Louisa Beaverhousen.”
There are two of them? She looks exactly like Muffy. I’m not seeing things, and I’m not projecting just because I want my dick to work again and the bunnies made me think about screwing Muffy in the walk-in fridge at the bunny bar.
“Fourteen seventy-three, please.” She turns away as she holds out a hand, twitching her fingers like she’s waiting for cash or a card.
And that’s when I see the tattoo.
Her cat’s name. It’s on her wrist.
Octavia Louisa Beaverhousen, my ass. This is Muffy.
Pippa Grant is a USA Today Bestselling author who writes romantic comedies that will make tears run down your leg. When she’s not reading, writing or sleeping, she’s being crowned employee of the month as a stay-at-home mom and housewife trying to prepare her adorable demon spawn to be productive members of society, all the while fantasizing about long walks on the beach with hot chocolate chip cookies.
Anyone can fall for their brother’s best friend…I fell for his enemy.
Football club lawyer, Santino Rossi is known in the locker room as the two-month chump. For years he’s been on a mission to find someone he can share his basil plant with and cure him of his former playboy ways.
Tilly Logan is a fiery, Scottish lass who didn’t bat an eye five years ago when a smoldering Italian pulled her into a nightclub bathroom. He was dark, dangerous, and exactly the good time Tilly was looking for—even if he worked for her over-protective brother’s team.
But a lot has changed and when Tilly returns to London five years later only to find herself trapped in an elevator with the smoldering Italian, it isn’t a happy reunion. Especially because her brother blames Santino for her high tailing it back to Scotland in the first place.
Tilly doesn’t want a replay of past mistakes and reconnecting with Santino is playing with fire.
But if they keep their relationship a secret, it could be worth the burn.
RELEASE BLITZ GIVEAWAY LINK
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“Sei bellissima stasera,” I growl, sliding my hands into her loose, straight locks as I press my lips to hers for a quick kiss. I drag the backs of my fingers down her pale cheek and add, “Beautiful.”
She grips my arms, her eyes wide and challenging. “How did I never know you spoke Italian?”
“I’m a man of mystery.” I dip my nose to the area below her ear, inhaling her intoxicating scent of honey and citrus. After spending the night making out with her a few days ago, I haven’t been able to stop craving her scent. She arches into my touch, and the motion causes my cock to stir inside my jeans. Pulling back, I stare at her lips. “And no one said I spoke good Italian. I might have just told you that you look like a beetroot.”
Her hands slide up the short sleeves of my shirt, her fingers biting into my biceps. “I love beetroots.”
“Nobody loves beetroots.” I laugh and tilt my head with a smug look. “Hai delle labbra così deliziose…Vorrei tanto baciarti.”
Her jaw drops. “What did you just say?”
Smiling, I lean in and whisper against her lips, “I said your lips are so delicious…I would really like to kiss you.”
Without pause, I fuse our mouths together and tease my tongue along her lush lips. She tastes minty, and that, coupled with her honey scent, has me deepening the kiss even further. Her hands move from my arms to my waist as she fists my T-shirt. When I thrust my tongue deep into her mouth, she inhales sharply, and her faint moan vibrates against my lips. Moving my hands down to her arse, I pull her into me so she can feel the effect she’s having on me.
“Okay, Sonny Corleone, no need to get cheeky.” She breaks our kiss, her face adorably flushed as she glances around nervously and finger combs her mussed locks. “We’re in public, after all.”
I shove my hands into my pockets. “It’s been a long time.”
“It’s been a few days.”
“Give or take five years.” I wink playfully, causing her to roll her eyes.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy Daws is an Amazon Top 13 bestselling author of sexy, contemporary romance novels. She enjoys writing love stories that take place in America, as well as across the pond in England. When Amy is not writing in a tire shop waiting room, she’s watching Gilmore Girls, or singing karaoke in the living room with her daughter while Daddy smiles awkwardly from a distance. For more of Amy’s work, visit: http://www.amydawsauthor.com
Don’t fall for your roommate…especially when it’s only temporary.
Nolan Brooks is off limits.
Sure, he’s insanely attractive and funny and I might have almost gone home with him one night to relieve a little stress.
It was all just a momentary lapse in judgment…just like the kiss we shared.
He’s my temporary roommate while I wait for my new apartment to be ready. That’s it.
He’s doesn’t do relationships, and he doesn’t do attachments.
So what if I have a crush on him? We’ll only be there for two months.
Surely I can survive that long.
TEAGAN HUNTER is a Missouri-raised gal but currently lives in South Carolina with her Marine veteran husband, where she spends her days begging him for a cat. She survives off coffee, pizza, and sarcasm. When she’s not writing, you can find her binge-watching various TV shows, especially Supernatural and One Tree Hill. She enjoys cold weather, buys more paperbacks than she’ll ever read, and never says no to brownies. For more information, please visit
Meagan Brandy is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author of New Adult and Sports Romance books. Born and raised in California, she is a married mother of three crazy boys who keep her bouncing from one sports field to another, depending on the season, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Starbucks is her best friend and words are her sanity.
A marriage of convenience ignites both passion and risk…
A brilliant pianist and notorious rake, Sebastian Hall indulges his passion for music and women with equal aplomb. But now that his elder brother has married, his father insists he pursue a respectable path and find a suitable wife.
As a girl, Clara Whitmore quietly loved her piano teacher from afar. Yet her youthful crush cannot compare to the powerful desire she feels when she unexpectedly encounters Sebastian again. Could the man who once dominated her dreams become the husband she hopes for…and save her from the fate she most fears?
* An earlier edition of this book was published under the name Nina Rowan by Grand Central Publishing.
New York Times & USA Today bestselling author Nina Lane writes hot, sexy romances about professors, bad boys, candy makers, and protective alpha males who find themselves consumed with love for one woman alone. Originally from California, Nina holds a PhD in Art History and an MA in Library and Information Studies, which means she loves both research and organization. She also enjoys traveling and thinks St. Petersburg, Russia is a city everyone should visit at least once. Although Nina would go back to college for another degree because she’s that much of a bookworm and a perpetual student, she now lives the happy life of a full-time writer.
I swear I didn’t mean to flirt with the world-famous Brayden Clarke—especially not right in the middle of an interview for a job.
It was a slip—or perhaps a gut reaction to his smoldering eyes and deep, sexy voice.
To my total disbelief, they give me the assignment. My task is simple: advise Brayden and his band on how to communicate with their fans. Easy-peasy. Or so I thought… I can handle the job, but the sexy lead singer who’s intent on getting under my skin might be too hot to resist.
But our lives are too different. His life is under constant scrutiny. I thrive on freedom and spontaneity. I like exploring the streets of New York and meeting up with my siblings without needing security detail.
But when we’re together, all our differences fade, and I can’t get enough of this man. And he won’t quit until he makes me his.
Say You’re Mine is the first book in the Gallaghers Series and it follows the story of Brayden and Isabelle. When it comes to fame and relationships, Brayden quickly learned that those two do not mesh. As the lead singer of a super popular band, he’s always in the spotlight and under scrutiny. So, when his manager brings on Isabelle to help Brayden and his band with their communication issues, he didn’t expect his world to get turned upside down….Isabelle moved to New York in the hopes of starting over. She’s amazing at her job and couldn’t be happier to have a practice she can call her own. She’s over the moon at the opportunity to work with Brayden and his band. But Brayden is far too tempting for his own good. He’s the kind of guy she never saw coming and is proving to be impossible to resist….
Overall, I found this book to be a quick and easy read. I easily devoured Say You’re Mine and had the hardest time putting it down. I found this book to well written and entertaining. The characters were easy to connect with. I fell for Brayden and Isabelle instantly and couldn’t wait to see where their story was going to take us. The sparks between Brayden and Isabelle were instant and the two of them just burned up the pages together. Say You’re Mine is definitely a case of insta-love done right! I couldn’t get enough of Brayden and Isabelle. I loved the ease of their relationship and how these two just got one another. Both of them super busy with life and no time for love. However, fate had other plans for the two of them and before either of them knew it, the pull was impossible to ignore.
One of the things I love about romance novels from Layla Hagen is that they are written with heart and full of steam. Her male characters are alpha males and never disappoint. Say You’re Mine was everything I hoped it would be. Brayden and Isabelle’s story checked off all of my boxes with a sweet and sexy romance that was light on the drama and in the end left me with a big smile on my face.
I think this series is off to a really great start and I can’t wait to see what this author has in store for us next!
*I was provided an ARC copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review*
Meet Layla Hagen:
Welcome! My name is Layla Hagen and I am a Contemporary Romance author.
I fell in love with books when I was nine years old, and my love affair with stories continues even now, many years later. I write romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world. And I drink coffee. Lots of it 😀
I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of whimpering. For a second, I don’t know where I am, but then I hear a soft beep of a monitor and realize I’m with Springs. I glance down, and my nose gets buried in the bush of her unruly, wild, curly hair. I’ve never seen hair like this before. It’s how I came up with the name Springs. Each strand of hair looks like a tightly wound coil or spring.
Since I don’t know her name, I’ve been calling her Springs.
She quiets down and settles against me again, and I do something weird, something I’ve never done before, and I’m glad she’s asleep for it.
I inhale the scent of her hair, and my eyes roll to the back of my head when I smell peaches. I have to hold back a groan and many, many other things that are not appropriate right now.
I’m such an ass.
She rolls away from me, and blood rushes through my arm. Static tingles my fingers, and I slide my arm out from under her and then fix the sheet as it slides down her shoulders. She has a small tattoo right under her collarbone, simple, delicate, and sophisticated. It’s a simple flower, a rose. The line work is thin, which gives it a feminine, elegant appearance. I want to lean down and kiss it so badly, but it’s selfish thinking, considering everything she’s been through. I shouldn’t want her like I do. I have no right.
There are a few things I tell myself to stay away from.
I like to be balanced. Being right in the middle means nothing can go wrong. There are no expectations to be met. No promises can be broken. No disappointment can be felt. No love can be lost.
I live life in the middle for the most part. Personally, I think it’s worked out pretty well, minus being whipped and strung up like a pig for standing up for what I believe in.
Keeping my desires close to my heart saves me, even if what I want suffocates me every day.
Even though I want love, even though I want more, and I don’t want to slide between the legs of a club whore, I’m scared.
What if I’m just like my father? What if what I have isn’t enough, and I’ll want another life, another family? What if his bad blood runs through my veins, and I’m just this piece of shit human being? Maybe I try too hard to be a decent man because inside I know just how rotten I am.
My stomach growls, yanking me out of my pity party. I rub my hands over my face and look at the time. It’s four in the morning. No wonder I’m hungry. I missed dinner, and that means she did too.
I sit up and swing my legs over the bed as I stretch my neck left, then right, getting the cricks out. My boots hit the floor with a soft thud, and I look over my shoulder to make sure I didn’t wake her. Her curly hair looks like a huge cotton ball on the pillow. Her body is covered by the sheet and all I see are those curly coils. I chuckle to myself and fight the urge to reach up and run my fingers through her hair.