NEW from Kennedy Fox: The Checkmate Duet (Drew & Courtney) – Boxed Set!

Front Cover, Checkmate Duet by Kennedy Fox

Titles Included: Checkmate: This is Reckless & Checkmate: This is Effortless
Series: Checkmate Duet Series (Drew & Courtney)
Author: Kennedy Fox
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Trope: Friends to Lovers Romance
Photographer & Designer: Sara Eirew
Release Date: August 21, 2017

Introducing the complete Drew & Courtney saga in the Checkmate series from the USA Today Bestselling duo Kennedy Fox!
Checkmate: This is Reckless & This is Effortless is a friends to lovers romance will have you swooning and laughing from the first to the last page! Are you ready to play the game?

MEET DREW & COURTNEY

Drew Fisher is the type of guy every girl wants.
Noble police officer by day, charming prince by night.

He has no idea the effect he has on women, especially Courtney—his little sister’s best friend. She’s the blonde Southern belle who lives up to the cliché, except she has her own quirks. She’s smart as a whip, can change her own oil, and recite The Pledge of Allegiance backward, but no matter what, he doesn’t see that girl. It’d be easier to forget him if he wasn’t Courtney’s roommate and if the first thing she saw in the morning wasn’t his shirtless body covered in tattoos. She’s crushed on him since the day they met, but he’s made it perfectly clear where they stand. Just friends.

Courtney Bishop is as sugary sweet as her famous blueberry muffins.
Southern belle at heart, Cali girl by choice.
She barged into Drew’s life and they easily became best friends.
All was great as roommates and just friends, but then he started to fall for the girl who could chop firewood, deliver baby calves, and bail hay without breaking a sweat.
She’s the perfect mixture of sugar and spice, and he wants her.

One drunken hookup leaves them with much more than a platonic friendship.
Pretending it never happened proves to be more difficult than either of them anticipated.
A crazy ex-girlfriend, a dangerous war of stolen glances, and passionate kisses leads to the most reckless battle yet.

Loving each other comes easy, but losing their friendship will break them. Burning passion combined with an undeniable chemistry constantly pushes and pulls them together. In the end, Drew strives to prove they’re worth the fight, even when the game is far from over.

Checkmate.

Recommend for ages 18+ due to sexual content and adult language.


AMAZON US
AMAZON UK
AMAZON CA
AMAZON AU

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Boxed Set Release Day Giveaway

Checkmate: This is Beautiful is releasing on September 12, 2017!
This is the grande finale of the Checkmate Duet Series!


If you haven’t started Logan and Kayla’s story yet, the time is now!
Checkmate: This is Dangerous (Logan & Kayla #1) – OUT NOW
Checkmate: This is Beautiful (Logan & Kayla #2) – PRE-ORDER AVAILABLE
We don’t have too much longer before it’s on e-readers everywhere.

****

Many people have asked up what’s coming after the Checkmate Duet Series.
Well, we plan on releasing A WEEK WITH A BAD BOY together under Brooke and Lyra on October 19, 2017! We are very excited about this and can’t wait for it to be released!

BLOGGERS & BOOKSTAGRAMMERS
sign-up to participate in the cover reveal, release day blitz, & ARC reviews! http://bit.ly/2vx1fMm

READERS
you can sign-up now to apply for our ARC review team! http://bit.ly/2hTshKO

GOODREADS
make sure to add this to your TBR list! http://bit.ly/2fFJpmG

***

Early 2018 we will start releasing the BISHOP BROTHERS Series!
It is an interconnected stand alone series that will follow Courtney’s 4 brothers!
We’re so excited about this. If you want more information, please CLICK HERE!
We’re still in the early planning stages but will update our “coming soon” page with more info as soon as it’s set in stone.


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OUR BOOKS ARE AVAILABLE IN AUDIO FORMAT TOO!
CLICK HERE!


Who’s Behind Kennedy Fox?

Brooke Cumberland & Lyra Parish are a duo of romance authors who teamed up under the USA Today Bestselling pseudonym, Kennedy Fox who share a love of You’ve Got Mail and The Holiday. When they aren’t bonding over romantic comedies, they like to brainstorm new book ideas. One day, they decided to collaborate and have some fun creating new characters that’ll make your lady bits tingle and your heart melt. If you enjoy romance stories with sexy, tattooed alpha males and smart, independent women, then a Kennedy Fox book is for you!

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Website: www.kennedyfoxbooks.com
Email: kennedyfoxbooks@gmail.com
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So Good: A Sexy, Funny Romance by Nicola Rendell – Blog Tour

 

Tour Banner for So Good by Nicola Rendell

 

 

 

 

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AP new - synopsis.jpg
On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.

But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?

It feels so good.

Read my Review of So Good on Goodreads

Max

As I unlocked the door to my houseboat, I heard it. At first, it sounded like a duck paddling, but then I heard something else—a panting, or a gasping. For a second, it died down. It didn’t worry me, really, because the docks were full of weird noises, and boats were noisy as fuck. But I turned the deadbolt turned, the sound got louder and more frantic. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good and it sure as hell didn’t sound like a duck. I let my work belt slide off my shoulder onto the deck, and looked down in the water, gripping the taffrail. There in the shadows, gasping, paddling, and panicking, I saw something small and wet and terrified.
​Holy fuck. It was a dog. A tiny, drowning dog.

​Fully clothed, boots on, I jumped into the water off the sternside. I plunged in deep, submerged in a world of shadowy barnacle-crusted dock pilings and chains holding anchors far below. Holding my breath and looking up toward the sunshine, through the bubbles that came down with me, I saw it. No bigger than a chicken, and kicking hard. I breaststroked toward the dog, aiming to come up right below it, but the salt water stung my eyes, and I closed them out of reflex. When I surfaced, it had gotten a few feet away. It was just a tiny thing, soaking wet, sucking in terrified breaths. It doggy-paddled in circles, slipping down into the water so that only its nose was above the surface. I did one strong breaststroke, but it was in full flight-or-fight mode, absolutely fucking petrified, and it paddled away from me, slipping out of my grasp. With one more big stroke, I had it, and I scooped it up into my arms to held her up out of the water, the way people do when the hold babies in the air. I saw it was a girl, her tummy soft and much less furry than the rest of her. Her big black eyes bugged out for an instant, and then…

She went limp in my hands. Lifeless, with her feet dangling down, her tongue hanging out. Her eyes were closed. On my palm, I couldn’t feel a heartbeat where I was sure there should have been one thrumming along.

​Fuck. Fuck.

​I gave her a shake, but she dangled like a rag doll.

I held her out of the water, keeping her in a tight bicep curl over my shoulder. Carefully, I maneuvered under the jetty that led to my boat. I got a toehold on the old dock ladder, rusty and unsteady. Using one hand to climb up, and using both boots like climbing picks, I emerged from my boat’s shadow and out into the sunshine of the dock. I laid her down on her back, supporting her lifeless body. With every passing millisecond, my heart fucking broke more and more. I could not let this happen. I could not let her die. I pulled myself up all the way and knelt beside her. She was flat on her back, with no signs of life at all. Her arms were limp at the wrists, and her paws dripped onto the dry wood beneath her. Still, her tongue hung out. Still, her eyes were shut. Still, she wasn’t breathing.

Somewhere, buried deep in my memory, I remembered learning the basics of canine CPR. I felt like maybe it was in my lifeguard class when I was in high school, but I didn’t fucking know and it didn’t fucking matter. All I knew was I had to do something, and fast. So I did. I wrapped my fingers around her tiny muzzle and brought my lips to her leathery nose. I blew gently, and as I did I felt her chest swell up. I held my own breath and prayed for anything, any sign of life, but there was nothing. Lightly, with the tips of my fingers, I did compressions on her soaking wet fur. One. Two. Three. And then I did another breath. One. Two. Three.
“Come on, little lady,” I whispered, and rolled her onto her side. I gave her a few pats, firm but not too hard. She was absolutely tiny—from scruff to tail, hardly bigger than the span of my hand. I rolled her over onto her back again and gave her one more breath, all the while going through the paces of what the fuck to do if this didn’t work. I had no goddamned idea whatsoever where the vet was. Did we even have a vet? Would she survive that long? What the fuck was I going to do?

But as I started the next set of compressions, she coughed. She actually coughed, like a tiny person, a gasping choking hack, accompanied by a few mouthfuls of water spilling out onto the wood planks.

Holy shit.

I froze with my hands just above her tiny body. Her strange, buggy eyes opened up and she started panting hard.

“Hey, hey!” I scooped her up in my arms, cradling her to my chest. I could tell by the way she was so limp against me that she was exhausted. Keeping her close to my body, to keep her warm and safe, I scratched the fur at the back of her neck, her tail started to wag. But she was also shivering hard, and I didn’t like that one bit.

 

AP new -about the author.jpg
Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
Author Links

 

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Chapter Reveal: SO GOOD, Coming Soon from Nicola Rendell

 

 

Coming August 7th

 

 

 

Front Cover of So Good by Nicola Rendell

 

AP new - synopsis.jpg

On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.

But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?

It feels so good.

Max

I wasn’t planning to see her naked—I swear to God, I wasn’t. The day was a scorcher, one of those godforsaken New England summer days that makes a guy wonder how he ever said fuck you to winter. I stood on the roof her house, three stories above the Maine woods, with a far-off view of the ocean. It was pretty, yeah, like the kind of shit real estate companies put on complimentary calendars. But in that heat, it was like standing on top of a goddamned toaster, turned all the way to burnt. I could feel that shit in my socks, straight through my work boots. At my feet was a stack of shake shingles, old school, to replace the ones that were missing. Her house had a few slow leaks, and one over her bathroom that made the ceiling look like a huge Rorschach test. She said it definitely looked like a rose in bloom, I said it definitely looked like Batman. But I told her hidden meanings wouldn’t make shit for difference when the ceiling collapsed into the tub, so there I was. Fucking miserable work, but I was glad to do it. Glad to do anything for her—anything she needed at all.
In the forest on every side around the cottage, the cicadas screeched. It sounded like a needle squeaking off a record player. I knelt down by the stack of shingles, using my utility knife to score a line through one to fit a nearby gap. I snapped it with my hands and tossed the scrap end off the edge of the roof. A trickle of sweat ran down my forehead, and I wiped my face with my forearm. One droplet got away, sparkling in the sun. It caught my eye, and I watched it fall, as it landed on the skylight window with a splat.

And that was when it happened. Boom.

There she was, right under me. She couldn’t have been more than six feet away, but she felt even closer. I had a direct line of sight down into her gorgeous, soft cleavage, bright and pure in the sunshine. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the surprise of seeing her, but at first I didn’t really process that it was Rosie at all. My dude brain said, I want that woman.
Then my regular brain said, Don’t be an asshole, man. It’s Rosie. Have some respect.
Respect I definitely had, but of course I’d thought about seeing her naked before. She was so fucking beautiful that any man would have thought about it. Sometimes, like right then looking down into her dress, I couldn’t fucking help it. Sometimes we’d be out doing something ordinary, like eating dinner, or I’d be changing her oil, or she’d be teaching me to do shit I should have learned at some point in the last 34 years, like iron a dress shirt without screwing up the collar, and I’d catch myself watching her cleavage rise and fall as she breathed, or thinking how nice her legs were, and I’d think, Holy hell.

Now she was directly underneath the skylight. The angle of the sun cast my shadow down the roofline, away from the skylight, so I didn’t give myself away. Like that, I watched her. I gave in to my dude brain and just took her in. Her light brown hair glinted, and a beam of light caught the curve of her shoulder.

That was when the goddamned striptease started, beginning with the left strap of her sundress.

Her movements were graceful, sexy, sassy—the sway of her hips, the shake of her shoulders. I realized I might be in real fucking trouble, because I loved that sexy sass. It wasn’t normal Rosie-cute. It was naughty, like nothing I’d ever seen her do before. I liked it so much, I couldn’t look away. She shimmied out of her sundress, and it fell to the floor in a pool at her feet. No big deal, I tried to tell myself. I’d seen her in her bikini a thousand times. This was no different from that.

Except it was, because then she reached around to undo her bra. Before I could tell myself Don’t look, dude. It’s Rosie, don’t look, it was too fucking late. The straps slid down off her shoulders, and for one perfect second got caught on her nipples, swinging in the air before falling to the floor.

Holy…

I pressed my clenched fist to my mouth and groaned into my hand. All my blood was leaving my head. The roofline was getting wobbly.

It wasn’t like I didn’t know her curves; we’d spent whole summers on the beach—I knew her shape and her softness, I knew her lines and her freckles. Every curve of Rosie Madden was sacred in my book. Fucking douchebags on the beach giving her eyes had to answer to me and my eyes, right behind her. She did that to me—I was one punch away from defending her honor, always. But this? This was different. Seeing your best friend in a bikini at a clam bake is one thing. Protecting your best friend from assholes with wandering eyes is part of the guy-girl best friend creed. But seeing your best friend, absolutely naked in her bedroom, without knowing she can see you? That was a different deal.

…Shit.

Part of me knew I should keep my eyes off of her. She thought she was in private, I had no business spying. Anyway, I didn’t want to be that guy. I hated that guy. But the other part of me, fuck. The other part of me was nothing but want.

Then she bent at the hips, and time slowed down, like some kind of stop-motion Jackie Chan kung fu sequence. All the cicadas went silent, at least in my head they did. The wind stopped blowing through the trees. It was just her, and her perfection, in the sunshine underneath me. I felt like I was on one of those glass-bottomed boats, looking at a world I never knew existed.

She tossed her bra aside, and it landed on her neatly made bed. She shimmied out of her panties, shaking her ass as she did. I growled into my fist, and that’s when I went down into a crouch.

Because as she shimmied I saw it in a V above her ass. My kryptonite. A skimpy thong.
All these years, all these decades, I’d had her pegged for cute cotton panties—pastel polka dots, thin stripes, shit that was sweet and sensible. But I was so fucking wrong. Black. Strappy. Tiny. Not sensible at all. Now it was in a rolled-up ball at her ankles. Using her toes, she plucked her panties from the floor, and caught them on one finger.
Fucking A.

She was completely naked, not a thread on her. Every thought I’d ever had got sucked out of my brain, like dishwater down the sink drain. What was left was only one true thing, and it wasn’t about her ass, or her skin, or her breasts. It was the one thing I think I’d always known but never let myself feel. Until that moment.

She is the most beautiful woman in the world.

Part of the reason I thought that was, yeah, obviously, she was fucking stunning, every inch of her straight out of a dream. Not just my dream, either. Guys would slow down on Main Street to give her the elevator stare, and I’d quietly crack my knuckles and give them don’t-you-fucking-dare stares. But the other part, the part that wasn’t in my gut but that was in my heart, was that I fucking adored her. Adored her so hard it hurt.

She crouched down to pick up her dress, lifting the delicate straps with her small, sweet fingers. She pivoted, so I had a view of her other side of her body for the first time. There it was.

The tattoo.

I groaned again. I wasn’t prepared for this shit; three stories up, that body was dangerous. It was a rose tattoo, snaking around her hip, on the milk-white skin that was always under her bikini bottoms. The part of her I’d never seen. It was serious ink, real art, not some namby-pamby temporary tattoo or some amateur shit she might’ve gotten in an hour at a tattoo parlor on a dare on a cruise to Puerto Rico. It was complicated, detailed, and artful. Multiple visits to some tattoo artist, touching that creamy skin—goddamn.

It took every fucking ounce of strength I had, but I did manage to look away. I felt as disoriented as if I’d been sucker punched. Not cotton—lace. Not cute—hot. Not my friend—my fucking fantasy.

She was so important to me, such an integral part of my world, that I’d never let myself think of her as more than what she was. She was like running water, or electricity, or the sunshine itself. She was one of those things that was perfect exactly as it was, and one of those things only an idiot would want to change. I never looked at her and thought, I wish I could have more of her than I do already. That would be like thinking, I wish I could turn that cold glass of water into a swimming pool. Or, I wish electricity came through the air. Fuck that noise. Perfect things are perfect things, and Rosie Madden was a perfect goddamned thing, from the tips of her toes to the freckles on her nose. And that rose, holy fuck, that rose.
I was strong, but not that strong, and I let my eyes move down again. She’d disappeared from view, mostly, except for the edge of her ass. I watched her rifle through her closet, and a few dresses fluttered onto her bed. On her bedside table, I caught a glimpse of the picture she always kept there, of the two of us together. The memories flew back at me like a runaway train. The first time I’d ever seen her was the day my parents and I moved to Truelove, at the start of middle school. The first time I ever saw her, she was volunteering at the community gardens. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and I thought she’d looked super badass. I’d helped her dig up carrots and had been too fucking tongue-tied to say a goddamned word.

That’s how I felt, all over again times a thousand.

I’d never made a move. She’d cried on my shoulder through a line of guys who were never good enough for her. Jocks and pricks and a brief and seriously unfortunate stint with a guy who was a drummer for a reggae band who I hated so much it made me grind my teeth. But I never said shit about it. She was perfect even when she made mistakes. Tips of her toes. Freckles on her nose.

Never mind that rose. Like Banksy took on a temple.

One more time, I glanced down. Now she was sitting on her bed, and I saw that dark V shadow between her thighs. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I watched her put on a pair of red panties. Equally skimpy, equally not-sensible, equally ball-busting. They were only tragic because they hid the parts of her I’d never seen before.

Christ. All. Mighty.

As the world started to spin, I realized fixing the shingles could wait. I’d been working on old houses long enough to know that if you found yourself on a dangerously sloping roof and felt like you might be less than 100% on the ball, you needed to reconsider your game plan. I needed to get my shit together—that body had me totally fucking derailed. So I made my way down the roof, basically bouldering down backward. I focused on my grip, and my steps, like a climber coming down from Everest without enough oxygen. When I got to the gutter, I worked my way around the corner, standing on the eave, and hooked my leg over my ladder, making sure to put one foot after another and keep a tight grip on every rung.
When I stepped off the ladder, I grabbed a bottle of water that she’d left for me and filled up my palm and then splashed my face. My sweat stung my eyes through the droplets of water, and I rubbed away the tears. I heard the hinges on the screen door creak. “All done?” she asked.

I opened my eyes. They stung like hell, but I didn’t give a fuck. There she was, in a dress I’d seen before. Striped and sweet. But now I knew the secret. There were red panties under there. Red. Cherry red. My eyes fell on that part of her hip that I knew was inked.
“Max?”

I managed somehow to snap out of it. “Sorry. Getting there. Spotted something weird with the skylight.”

Rosie cocked her head. “Were you up there? Above my room?”

Awesome, dude. Smooth. “Just noticed it out of the corner of my eye.”

“I don’t like you being on the roof.” She pursed her lips. “Too steep. Promise you’ll get some ropes up there or something? Promise?” She reached out and put her hand to my arm, her fingers with their short pink nails pressing into my tanned skin. I had a quick but totally unavoidable image of her gripping my forearm in a very different situation. I want that. So fucking…

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

When I didn’t answer—I knew that if I opened my mouth the first words out would be You. Me. Right Now.—she looked up at the roof and squinted into the sun. She peered suspiciously up at me and shifted her nose, kind of like a bunny. Adorable. She wasn’t very tall, so whenever she looked at me she had to lift her chin, which used to be cute. But now looked…like everything I’d ever wanted. “Have you had too much sun?”

I was vaguely aware that she’d said some words, but I wasn’t hearing them because I realized that I couldn’t see her bra straps, so that had to mean she was she was wearing a strapless…

Knock. That. Shit. Off. “I’m good.”

“Mmm.” She nodded and furrowed her delicate eyebrows, which had never looked so pretty as they did at that moment. I didn’t even know eyebrows could be pretty. They’re eyebrows, for fuck’s sake. But suddenly I felt like for the last ten years, I’d been looking at her through a standard definition television, with a shitty cable connection. Now someone had handed me an HDMI cable, and she was in 1080 dots per inch. Christ.

“Lemme make you a sandwich. You’re acting strange.”

Rather than answer her, I dumped the remaining half a bottle of water over my head, like Andre Agassi used to do between break points at the French Open.

“Ham? Or turkey? I’ve got both. Or chicken salad!” She clapped her hands together, compressing her cleavage. “Do you want a pickle?”

She means an actual pickle, you fuckwit. “Surprise me,” I told her, and dragged my eyes off the curve of her cleavage. I grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt and pressed it to my eyes. I had to get out of there. I needed a cold shower, or a call from my tax guy, or an unexpectedly urgent trip to the DMV—anything to stop myself seeing her stark naked every goddamned time I looked at her. Anything to get my mind off that ink.

As I wiped my face, she cleared her throat, and I dropped my shirt. “What?”

She pressed her lips together and rocked back on her sandals. “Nothing!”

I followed her eyes and glanced down at my fly, but the stallion was still in the barn. “Come on,” I said, finding myself smiling right along with her. “What are you looking at?”

“Just…” She swallowed hard. “Looking good there, champ.” She glanced at my stomach, where I’d shown her my bare abs. She made a fist and gave me a mock punch, soft and sweet. “That P90X is working great for you.”

Here we go again with the fitness videos. For everything else she was—beautiful, smart, funny—she was also a fucking ball-buster sometimes. She’d worked up this whole narrative that I spent my nights with Tony Horton on my houseboat, getting cut and doing reps while I drank protein shakes with a straw straight from the blender. It was her only explanation for why I didn’t have a girlfriend. P90X it had to be, she’d said. Or maybe, she’d whispered like a co-conspirator, “Jazzercise.” Now, though, I had a better idea than ever about why I was so picky: not a single woman held a candle to her. I’d been fucking blind to it, but now the mist had burned right off. “I’ve never even seen the opening sequence. Never have. Never will.”

“They’re streaming now!”

“Christ.”

Rosie snorted and made a long wheeeeee. “Sure. Surrrrrrre,” she said, stifling her giggle. “One ham-and-turkey, coming right up.” She spun on her sandals and disappeared into the house. Hips swinging. Red panties invisible, but not to me.

Not anymore.

 

AP new -about the author.jpg

 

Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
Author Links

 

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Wicked Envy, by Sawyer Bennett – Cover Reveal Today!

We are excited to bring you the next cover in the Wicked Horse Vegas Series by New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author Sawyer Bennett.

Get ready for WICKED ENVY!

The Wicked Horse Vegas promises to fulfill your darkest desires while leaving you with your greatest pleasures. Stop by and visit The Wicked Horse Vegas with the release of Wicked Envy, coming October 27, 2017!

Front cover, Wicked Envy by Sawyer Bennett

About Wicked Envy

The best of friends.

Two men. One woman.

A sinful playground called The Wicked Horse.

Entrepreneur turned millionaire, Dane Hawthorne, has been known to get his kicks at The Wicked Horse Vegas, and he has no shortage of beautiful women waiting for a shot at him. Driven to succeed, no matter if he’s in the boardroom or the bedroom, Dane never backs down from a challenge.

Avril Carrigan isn’t the type of woman to take risks in her personal life but after a broken heart and too much liquid courage, Avril decides the best way to get over one man is to get under another. Looking to experience all the debauchery she’s heard about from her best friend and business partner, Dane, she requests one thing of him—take her to The Wicked Horse.

The request seems simple. One friend helping another in her time of need. But now that they’ve crossed the threshold, things aren’t as easy as they once seemed. Not only is Dane looking at Avril in a new light, but so is their other business partner and best friend, Andrew Collings. As Dane’s envy blooms, he wonders if he made the right decision when he agreed to show Avril his wicked world.

What happens when the lines of friendship are blurred and boundaries are crossed? Will their relationships survive or will jealousy tear them all apart?

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WICKED WISH 

Meet Sawyer Bennett

A reformed trial lawyer from North Carolina, Sawyer uses real life experience to create relatable, sexy stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From new adult to erotic contemporary romance, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone.

Sawyer likes her Bloody Marys strong, her martinis dirty, and her heroes a combination of the two. When not bringing fictional romance to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to a very active toddler, as well as full-time servant to two adorably naughty dogs. She believes in the good of others, and that a bad day can be cured with a great work-out, cake, or a combination of the two.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | BOOKBUB |

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE | INSTAGRAM

So Good: Coming Soon from Nicola Rendell — Cover Reveal & Pre-Order!

I’m delighted to introduce the cover of

SO GOOD

a sexy, sweet contemporary romance by favorite author Nicola Rendell! Check it out and pre-order today!

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On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.

But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?

It feels so good.

 

Coming August 7th

 

 

Front cover, So Good, by Nicola Rendell
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Cover Design: Najla Qamber Designs
Cover Photographer: Sara Eirew Photographer
Cover Model: Justin Edwards
Cover Model: Bella/Nikki Sebben

 

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Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
Author Links

 

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Kade & Cameron, a New M/M Contemporary Romance by A. D. Ellis

Release Banner for Kade & Cameron, by A. D. Ellis

✰ “Real-life romance that keeps you coming back for more.” ✰

Kade & Cameron

Something About Him Series, Book 6  (May be read as standalone)

Release Date: June 15th, 2017

Publisher: A.D. Ellis Publishing

Categories: M/M Romance

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35076824-kade-cameron

 

 

 

Cameron Lewis is left reeling when his perfect life—two beautiful children, an adoring husband, and a house on the lake—is ripped apart by loss.

Kade Ramsey is living the American dream with a wife, two amazing children, and a comfortable job. But dreams are often only illusions, and Kade discovers his life isn’t all he thought it to be.

Kade and Cam have been friends for years. When their lives begin to fall apart, they turn to each other for support. Is friendship all they share? Or will their need for each other drive them down an unexpected path?

Kade & Cameron is a first-time-gay, out-for-you, friends-to-lovers, hurt/comfort story.

This is a male/male romance meant for ages 18+ due to adult language and situations.

 

What inspired me to write Kade & Cameron

Kade & Cameron’s story came to me one day while I was driving home from school (I’m a teacher.) Two men in my life were on my mind. One of them had lost his beloved spouse and was working hard to raise his children on his own. The other man was going through a nasty divorce thanks to his spouse cheating on him and basically walking out on him. This man was also trying to keep things going for his young children.

My emotions were all over the place as I thought about these two men. My heart hurt for what they were going through. I was angry at the two very different yet similar situations they were in. I was thinking about how much I wanted them to get through the rough times and find love and happiness again.

Voila! Kade & Cameron’s story was born. I love these two men in real life, and I love the fictional versions of them as well. While names and details have been changed and possibly mixed and mashed together to make this story, the inspiration behind it came from a very real place.

 

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0719756HG

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0719756HG

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B0719756HG

Amazon DEhttps://www.amazon.de/gp/product/B0719756HG

 

 

The school year came to an end about the time the boys and I had been living at the lake for almost a month. The transition had been mostly smooth, and Cam and I found we worked very well as a team. For the first couple weeks, I treated our living there as if we were guests. But, Cam sat me down for the first of many chats.

“Kade, this isn’t a bed and breakfast and you aren’t a guest in my home. No more asking if it’s okay if the boys take a bath or if they can have a snack. This is our home. I want you and the boys to be comfortable.” Cam’s words weren’t harsh, but I knew he’d meant what he said.

“Okay, I appreciate that. It’s hard, I don’t want to overstep,” I’d begun. When Cam had started to protest, I held up my hand. “Just let me know if I ever cross the line.”

“Deal.” Cam had agreed.

The boys and I settled in much more after that discussion, and I had to admit our whole arrangement seemed to be going well.

I hadn’t heard from Steph or my attorney, although I knew from a visit to the house that she had taken all of her remaining items. I had the locks changed and started preparations to rent the house. What I wished I had prepared for a little more was the reaction of local friends to my new living arrangement.

Either I hadn’t been listening or the rumor mill kept itself pretty hush-hush. But, the night of Cam’s annual “Welcome to Summer” bonfire, I heard more than I cared to.

After checking on the boys and the local neighborhood kids to make sure they weren’t at the water by themselves or they had a trusted adult with them, I grabbed a beer and headed toward the bonfire to shoot the shit with some long-time buddies.

“He found himself a fuck buddy pretty quickly.” Craig’s words and the resulting laughs echoed in my ears.

“Yeah, husband’s barely cold in the ground before he’s getting his hands on another dick. Guess he couldn’t stand not having a hard one to ride.” A man I barely recognized agreed and more laughter abounded.

“Never thought I’d see Kaden Ramsey turnin’ gay. Must be why that wife of his left. Needed to find a real man, not a butt-fucker.” Craig’s words registered and sent hot anger straight through my core. I downed my beer as the next comment was made, but I’d already made up my mind what I was going to do.

“I mean, I ain’t gonna judge. If Ramsey wants to pack some fudge, it aint’s hurtin’ me none,” Jared, a man I’d considered a decent friend and golf partner, chimed in. “I’m just sayin’, the whole gay thing ain’t my thing, man. Why can’t they just be friends? And what’s it doing to their boys? Don’t seem right to me.”

“Gentlemen,” I spoke from behind them and felt a satisfied spark travel through me when they all turned to face me, their faces pale with fear. “You know what I don’t think is right?” I spoke, using Jared’s words. “I don’t think it’s right that a man would lose the love of his life to cancer. I don’t think it’s right that two young boys would lose their father. I don’t think it’s right that a woman would cheat on her husband and leave her two sons without so much as a second thought.”

I had stepped closer and closer while I spoke. Lowering my voice so as not to call attention to myself, I continued, “I also don’t think it’s right that local friends and neighbors, those who have offered their support through a rough time, would speak ill of men who are supposedly their buddies.” I spit on the ground before running my hand along my jaw as if I was thinking. “In fact, I’d call it downright rude that any man worth his salt would show up for free food and free drinks and sit around a fire spreading more gossip than any quilting bee ever hoped to have.”

None of the men spoke, all of them had found something very interesting to study on the ground. I wasn’t wasting my time, or the evening’s celebrations, on the idiots any longer than I had to.

“I’ll leave you boys with one more thought. Any person, man or woman, would be lucky to have Cam in their life. What’s more, I consider myself damn lucky that Cam and I are friends and work so well together as a team. We’re there for each other and, most importantly, we’re there for our sons. If you all can’t accept that, maybe you should keep your homophobic asses home.”

I shook my head in disgust before walking away. I stopped abruptly when I almost ran over Cam. I glanced at his face to see how much he had heard. Cam’s features were guarded, closed off, so I simply nodded and continued on my way.

 

 

5 lucky winners can pick any book from A.D. Ellis’s backlist (not Kade & Cameron and not box sets)

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6d41b92d119/?

 

A.D. Ellis spends the majority of her days loving and wrangling two school-aged children and a husband before heading to the inner city of Indiana to teach a challenging group of alternative education students in grades third through sixth. Most days she hits the gym after school in hopes of running and lifting away the stress and headaches of the day before picking up her children and squeezing a whole day’s worth of loving and living into the too-short hours before bed. It’s no wonder Ms. Ellis lives for the slower, easier days she gets to enjoy on breaks from school.

Growing up in a small farming town in southern Indiana, A.D. is grateful to her mother for passing along the love of reading. With her nose constantly stuck in a book, Ms. Ellis became accustomed to friends and acquaintances snickering and shaking their heads at her love of reading.

A.D. never dreamed of being anything but a teacher, although there are certain times of the year when she laments her career choice. Ms. Ellis had a story idea floating in her head for about a year. After persistent prodding from a friend, A.D. put pen to paper and began writing her first story in October 2013. From that moment on, she was hooked. Taking the people and stories from her head and sharing them with readers is a scary, exhausting, rewarding, and fulfilling experience which A.D. plans to continue until there are no more stories banging around in her mind.

A.D. Ellis’ work can be found on both iBooks and Amazon. Please contact her on Facebook, Twitter, or her website.

iBooks bit.ly/ADEllisiBooks

Amazon author.to/ADEllisAmazon

Facebook www.facebook.com/adellisauthor

Twitter www.twitter.com/ADEllisAuthor

Website http://www.adellisauthor.com

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The Hot Shot (Game On, #4) by Bestselling Author Kristen Callihan: Coming Soon!

 the hot shot release date

Get Ready…Get Set…Game On! 

The Hot Shot, Book 4 of the Game On Series is Coming Soon!

TheHotShot Amazon-2

About The Hot Shot…

TheHotShot Amazon-2First we were friends. Then we were roommates. Now I want more…

What can I say about Chess Copper? The woman is capable of bringing me to my knees. I know this about five minutes after getting naked for her.

No one is more surprised than me. The prickly photographer my team hired to shoot our annual charity calendar isn’t my usual type. She’s defense to my offense, a challenge at every turn. But when I’m with her, all the regrets and darkness goes away. She makes life fun.

I want to know Chess, be close to her. Which is a bad idea.

Chess is looking for a relationship. I’ve never given a woman more than one night. But when fate leaves Chess without a home, I step up and offer her mine. We’re roommates now. Friends without benefits. But it’s getting harder to keep our hands off each other. And the longer we live together the more I realize she’s becoming my everything.

Trick is… Now that I’ve made her believe I’m a bad bet, how do I convince her to give this player a true shot at forever?

ADD THE HOT SHOT TO GOODREADS

PRE-ORDER THE HOT SHOT ON  AMAZON

 

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About Kristen Callihan…

KCauthor

Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewer’s Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publisher’s Weekly and the Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book FIRELIGHT received RT Magazine’s Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal , best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.

WEBSITE / FACEBOOK / TWITTER / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE