Thursday, March 30, 2017

Review: Band of Bachelors: Alex

Band of Bachelors: Alex Band of Bachelors: Alex by Sharon Hamilton
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I don't really know what to say about this book. I just know it wasn't for me, which is weird because lots of things are for me.

The writing is good, the story is decent, but I just couldn't connect with the characters. Something fell flat for me and I hate when that happens while reading. I can't pinpoint what exactly didn't work for me, but something didn't.

If you're looking for a strong alpha, then Alex is right up your alley. On the flip side, Sydney is a pretty alpha chick (which I think is part of my problem) and if you like that grab this book. I like my women strong, but something about Sydney was a bit weird and I just couldn't connect with the girl.

There's also a chance I was in a book funk and this just wasn't what I wanted at the time. Any of these things are possible.

This book was given to me for free at my request and I provided this voluntary review.

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Review: Challenge

Challenge Challenge by Amy Daws
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

5 Tequila Sunrise Stars

I hope you're ready because this book was bloody brilliant. Yes, bloody because British.

The Penis List
Penis #1: The virginity snatcher
Penis #2: The sweetie
Penis #3: The ultimate cocktail

Where was this list back in my day? I mean, this is perfect. Especially when Penis #1 is rolled into your ER on a stretcher. The tension between Cam and Indie can be cut with a knife (a spoon? fork? what's the least sharp object?) and it's the greatest thing. Oh, did I mention I listened to this book so it was so much more intense?! If you want to hear Indie and Cam really come to life, grab the audio.

"You'll sleep so much better here, and it's important you're at your best when you operate on London's sexiest footballer tomorrow."
"I've met all your brothers, Cam. Are you entirely sure you hold that title?"
Gah. See. I don't even know what to say. I laughed out loud. Then there are the puns. I love puns! And here I thought I was alone in this love, but I'm not! Cam and Indie are so freaking punny!

This book is excellent. I haven't listened to or read a book quite this fun in a long time. I can't wait to really meet the next Harris brother in Endurance!

Amy Daws just earned herself a new fan and the top spot on my soccer--and I feel awful calling it a soccer shelf after I just got used to calling it football--shelf on Goodreads.

"I am thine, thou art mine."

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Review: Own It

Own It Own It by M. Dauphin
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

5 "You've fucked the best, babe" Stars


I fell for Jett about as quickly as Lo fell for Jett. Well, maybe a bit quicker. And I was definitely quicker to own it (see what I did there?!) than Lo, but that's neither here nor there.

Lo has been hurt--as many people have--but she's been hurt in ways I'd never want to imagine or live through. She has lost more than most and she has been left with nothing more than a brother who wasn't there for her.

Jett is dealing with loss and has never needed a woman for anything. So when Lo comes barreling into his life--quite by accident and quite literally--he didn't see her coming. When they stumble into each other again, it must be fate. Or something like that.
Tonight is a 'get to know you' tomorrow morning I can fuck her properly in my bed and not feel guilty about it.

I'm pretty sure I was already in love with Jett at this point. I'm easy so this isn't a hard thing to do. But come on! He's amazingly sweet and kind and he is willing to sacrifice his happiness for others.

"You hurt my feelings."
"You have feelings?"
"I fucking do. One."

Dauphin surprised me with this one. I've read some of her other stuff. She isn't all hearts and glitter and rainbows. She's been known to throw a dark and dirty curveball at you a time or two. So, to say that I waited for that shoe to drop throughout this entire book would be an understatement.
Good news: She doesn't disappoint. There's a curveball. And she threw it right at my heart. It hit that one feeling I have.

"So when I do this, you better not laugh at me."

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Monday, March 27, 2017

NEW RELEASE: Say I'm Yours by Corinne Michaels

  SIY Available Now     SayYours AmazonFrom New York Times Bestseller, Corinne Michaels, comes a new second chance standalone romance. I spent twenty years waiting for Trent Hennington to open his eyes and see me. But it was all for nothing. He chose to keep himself guarded and let me walk away, proving that my time and efforts were wasted. I'm done being invisible. It's time to move on. A single dance sets my new reality into motion, and I welcome it. After all, Cooper Townsend is perfect. He's kind, sexy, and attentive--everything a girl could want. I thought I got it right this time. That my heart could mend, and I would be happy. Apparently, some things really are just too hard to walk away from.  

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      1 SAVE HIM FINAL     SIY_Teaser1       Corinne Close Medium   Corinne Michaels is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author of The Salvation Series (Beloved, Beholden, Consolation, Conviction & Defenseless), Say You'll Stay, Say You Want Me, and Say I'm Yours. She's an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun loving mom of two beautiful children. Corinne is happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife. After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness. Both her maternal and paternal grandmothers were librarians, which only intensified her love of reading. After years of writing short stories, she couldn't ignore the call to finish her debut novel, Beloved. Her alpha heroes are broken, beautiful, and will steal your heart.     Newsletter | Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon Author Page | Corinne Michaels Facebook Group    

Friday, March 24, 2017

Review: Cut Wide Open

Cut Wide Open Cut Wide Open by Abby McCarthy
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

3.75 "I don't talk much" Stars

I went into this knowing nothing beyond the fact that it's an MC book. Which I LOVE. So, this was right up my alley.

I really enjoyed the story of Gunner and Charlie. The way Charlie kept to herself and managed to make herself nearly invisible, yet Gunner still saw her.

After years of watching each other, there finally comes a time to interact. Gunner, always in protection mode when it comes to Charlie, is quick to push away any potential threats or suitors. What he couldn't protect her from was himself.

Charlie faces things that no one should ever have to face. This is true of her childhood and as an adult. She is a survivor.

Gunner is her savior. Even if he blames himself for her situation, he still saves her. In her mind, he will always save her.

This book contains some serious adult situations. That's the warning you get. If you don't like adult situations or horrible, worst case scenarios, then move on. Skip right on over this book and grab something else.

I am excited to see where Abby McCarthy takes this series. I have a crush on Shane. And maybe Reggie. Just give me the whole MC, I'm greedy like that.

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Review: How to Save a Life

How to Save a Life How to Save a Life by Emma Scott
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

To all of my book friends who told me to read this book, screw you. Seriously, why didn't you force me to read this sooner?! Had I known the beauty that was held within the pages of this outstanding read, I would have picked it up a long time ago.

Evan Salinger is the class freak, the outcast, the mental case. He's the beautifully broken boy who has been ostracized by someone he is supposed to call brother. He has built his life around his books,his job, and his drive to get out the tiny town he is forced to call home.

Jo is the new girl. She's the girl other girls hate because she chooses how she is perceived at school. She is the girl with the harrowing past and the jagged scar. She has built her life around circumstances that she cannot change.

When the two of these connect it's magical. And I don't say that because it's a thing in romance, I say that because it truly felt like it had to happen. Call it fate or destiny or whatever you need to call it, but Evan and Jo were meant to be. You can feel the attraction between them. You can feel the reservations and the hesitancy and the need to be understood by another living soul. Evan and Jo encompass all of these feelings.

Pulled apart by circumstances completely out of their control--no misunderstanding here--Evan and Jo must find a way to fill the void the other has left behind. Evan does this with his dreams; Jo does this by running away.

The tiny aspect that is a bit supernatural is Evan's ability to know things. And not in a psychic way, but in an intuitive kind of way. The way it is written into the story, I completely believe it's possible. I never doubted Evan for a minute. His intuition or ability my have been the reason he was left to sit on the sidelines in school, but it is this uncanny ability that makes me love him all the more. It is his undying belief and love in Jo that has me wanting to curl him into my arms and hold him tight.

So, if you haven't been fortunate enough to read this book, please do it now.
One-click it, grab a cup of coffee or tea, and find your cozy reading spot because you aren't going to want to put this book down.

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Review: Untwisted

Untwisted Untwisted by Cari Quinn
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I always love revisiting characters I just can't get enough of Gray and Jazz. OMG! This novella is perfect if you feel like you didn't get the closure you wanted with Twisted.

Gray loves Jazz, that's made even clearer within the pages of this book. I can't wait to see how they continue to grow in future books as we watch the other members of Oblivion fall in love.

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CHAPTER REVEAL: Just Like That by Nicola Rendell

Coming April 10th

Pre-order exclusively via
iBooks HERE


AP new - synopsis.jpg

"I bet I can untangle you."

At an airport baggage claim, Penny Darling looks up from her knotted mess of ear buds to find the sexiest hunk of man she's ever seen. He's got a military haircut, a scar through his eyebrow, and he's rocking a pastel pink dress shirt like only a real man can. But Penny is on a man-free diet so she leaves the airport without succumbing to his delicious double-entendres...or his dreamy dimples.

PI Russ Macklin can't take his eyes off Penny. As she sashays out of the airport with hips swaying and curls bouncing, he suspects they may share more than just sweltering chemistry. That suitcase she's rolling along behind her? It looks a lot like his.

Because it is.

When he tracks her down, he holds her bag hostage in exchange for a date. Their night begins with margaritas and ends in urgent care, and Russ proves that Cosmo's theory about a very particular type of orgasm was oh-so-wrong.

In Penny, Russ finds a small-town sweetheart with a very naughty side. For the first time ever, he’s thinking about picket fences. Penny finds in Russ a loving, caring man who understands the power of massaging showerheads.

But Russ is only in Port Flamingo for a week. They agree it'll be a fling and nothing more. Because really, they can't fall ass-over-teakettle in love just like that...

Can they?

99k words. HEA. Dual POV. No cheating.
Featuring a big drooly dog named Guppy.


I step off the escalator, and there she is. She’s looking down, doing something with her phone. Air conditioning blows on her from above, making the hem of her purple dress flutter against her leg. And fuck, look at those legs. Look at that body. Look at that woman. Underneath the dress, instead of a bra she’s wearing the top half of a pink bikini, tied at the nape of her neck in a bow.
​Welcome to Florida. God bless the Sunshine State.
​The place is dismal, except for her. On the walls are 1980s tourism posters, rippling with the humidity. All the guys have Magnum, P.I. mustaches, and all the women look like extras from Baywatch. She’s a vision in the middle of all of it, an oasis at the goddamned baggage claim. I circle the clumps of old people bumping into each other with walkers, like slow-motion bumper cars. As I get closer, I see her face. Her freckles, her slightly shiny pink lips. Her breasts, which are fucking beautiful. But her expression, it isn’t beautiful. It’s seriously pissed. Nostrils flared, teeth set, jaw clenched.
​In her hands is a whole big tangle of ear buds, and maybe a phone charger. A big knot of cords, like a wad of cold pasta.
​I get closer. Not too close, because I don’t want to be that guy, but close enough to see the small starfish necklace dangling from her neck, and close enough to smell something warm, and sweet. Familiar. Vanilla, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s fucking delicious.
​On the wall behind her is a big banner. It’s got a faded old cartoon flamingo, flapping his wings and grinning. Underneath is the caption:
​No shit. Because it’s hot, and I don’t mean like ordinary summertime hot. I mean hot like the time the sauna malfunctioned at my gym and turned all the drywall in the locker room into oatmeal. She doesn’t look hot at all though. She looks cool, and soft, and beautiful. Just the thing I need. Like a vodka soda after a long fucking day.
​I set my shoulder bag at my feet and take off my suit jacket. Her braid comes down over one shoulder, the curl at the bottom nestling into her cleavage. I roll up my sleeves. “I bet I can untangle you.”
​She looks up at me. Her eyes are deep blue and sparkling. A smile starts to pinch her cheeks. The end of the charger swings between us. “I’m okay. Got myself into this mess, got to get myself out of it.”
​“Sometimes two is better than one.”
​She smacks her lips at the cords. “Sometimes.” She pulls hard on the plug end, making the wires tighten even more. “You’d think I’d learn to keep that little plastic box that comes with these, but oh no, every—” She tugs. “—single.” Tugs again. “—time.”
Granted, she’s not exactly in need of rescue from a burning building, but no way am I going to stand here and watch her struggle, no fucking way. Without another word, I start undoing the end of the tangle that’s nearest me, and I watch that smile of hers get bigger. She doesn’t look at me, but I see a dimple, and she bites her lip.
Still focused on the knot, she says, “Let me guess. You’re not from around here, are you?”​
Can’t imagine what gave me away. Maybe the fact that I’m the only guy in the building wearing slacks and actual shoes. “Here on business.”
She looks me up and down. “What kind of business? FBI?”
Fuck. Not the first conversation I want to have, definitely not. Also, I don’t know a single fed who wears pants this nice. “Private business.”
“Hmmm.” She eyes me more mischievously. “Tall, dark, and a military haircut. Something tells me you’re not here to do some competitive bass fishing. “
Oh man. Cute. Really cute. “No, I’m not.”
Slowly, the tangle comes undone, until we’re in the middle together. Reminds me of that scene in Lady and the Tramp.
But before I can say anything more—like, for instance, I’m down for 20 questions, as long as it’s over a drink—the buzzer on the carousel roars to life, as loud as a tornado siren. The crush of people starts to tighten around the conveyor. She winds the three sets of ear buds and the cord around her palm. From the pocket of my bag, I take out the plastic case that came with my ear buds and hand it over. “There.”
She laughs through her nose. “I’ll be okay.”
“I insist.” I press it into her hand, and her eyes meet mine.
“I’ll bet you do.” She looks away as a blush covers her cheeks.
The bags start to rumble off the conveyor. For one long second, she watches me, smiling. Sizing me up. The little curls around her face tremble in the air conditioning, and I’m about to say You, me, a pitcher of margaritas, tonight when she looks away and hoists her purse up on her shoulder.
“That’s my bag,” she says. “I should get going. Thanks for…untangling me.”
She steps away and threads her way between a handful of old ladies in walkers. I know I should help her, I know I should grab her bag, but holy fuck look at that body.
​She grabs her bag herself and flips up the handle.
“Give me your number. Let me take you out for dinner.”
​Her smile dissolves into a scowl. “You married?”
I shake my head slowly. “I’m a lot of things, but married definitely isn’t one of them.”
Shake my head again. “Nope.”
She takes her starfish charm between thumb and forefinger and loops the chain over her lip. “Under any restraining orders? Involved in a complicated love triangle that your profile describes as an open marriage? Divorced five times and counting? Polyamorous?”
Whoa. This girl’s got to find a new dating pool, stat. “Promise. I’m Russ, and what you see is what you get.”
Zip-zip-zip goes her necklace.
“Just a drink.” I lift my hands out between us, to say C’mon. “Maybe dinner, if I make the cut.”
She blinks hard a few times and she drops her necklace charm. “I’m sorry. You’re sweet, but I can’t.”
Well, fuck it. The first time I try to get back in the saddle in ages and the goddamn thing slides right down onto the ground again. I respect it though. I don’t want to overdo this, so I give her a final nod and clear my throat. “Had to try.”
She swallows hard. “I’m glad you did.”
And she’s gone. As she goes, her hips sway with her dress. She works that sashay, as my aunt says, like a fucking pro. She looks back over her shoulder, only once, as she walks through the sliding doors. I give her a wink.
And she fucking winks back.
Jesus Christ.
She takes a left out of the door, which means she isn’t gone yet. Not by a long shot. The architecture does me a favor, and I get to watch her sashay right past the floor-to-ceiling windows. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, not even if I wanted to. She smiles at the sidewalk without looking up, and laughs a little. Like she knows I’m watching her and is feeling pretty good about it.
​God, what a cutie. And what a bummer. She was fucking sexy, she seemed sweet, and there was something about her that was up to no good. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was somewhere between the bikini top and I’m glad you did. But the spark wasn’t all we had in common. I realize, as she finally disappears from view, she also has a bag that looks just like mine.
Medium-sized black Samsonite. Sensible, dependable. Number One Amazon Bestseller in Luggage.
​But that couldn’t be my bag, I think to myself as I turn back toward the conveyor. Couldn’t be.
​It was. Twenty minutes later, I’m the only guy standing by the carousel, and there’s a single black bag going around and around in front of me. It’s exactly the same as mine, except it’s overstuffed and has a pink puff of yarn tied to the handle. Same color as her bikini top and literally hanging by a thread.
​It slides to a stop, and the yarn ball swings off the side of the carousel. Tick-tock, tick-tock.
​A rattle from the center of the conveyor sounds promising—I was early connecting through Atlanta, so my bag had to be the first one on—but no dice. What comes off the conveyor isn’t a bag at all, but instead one of the baggage guys in big set of protective earphones and a reflective vest. He crawls up through the flap and pokes his head out. He wipes his forehead on his bare leathery shoulder and then looks from me to the bag and back again. “Nice pom-pom, man,” he says and backtracks down the hole.
​I glance around for some airport help on this, but all I see is a handwritten sign at the baggage claim desk. Will Return On Monday!
​It’s Saturday.
​As I take hold of the bag, I notice it’s got not one but three “LIFT WITH CAUTION” tags: the first one new, the second one beat up, and the third one halfway shredded, all together the way people keep lift tickets from ski areas. I give it a hoist. The thing is so heavy it makes me grunt like I’m doing a dead lift. With a two-handed lug, I yank it off the conveyor and set it on the ground, wheels down.
​Squeezing the roller handle, I pull it up…and it snaps off right in my hand. The arms stick up from the suitcase like the tines of a fork.
​I clench my eyes shut and think back to “the most helpful critical review” from Amazon. “Looks like every other bag on the planet. Sh**ty handle.”
​Touché. But it is what it is. Which is her bag, hopefully.
​I wheel it along to a bank of benches, by some old beat-up phone booths, lining the far wall. I open up the ID pouch and read:
I bite down on my gum and groan. How cute is that name? Jesus Christ, come on. Penny Darling. What’s more, it’s not a business card or typed up like mine, but written by hand. Her writing is sweet, pretty, and feminine, with big plump letters written in bright pink marker that’s bled into the plastic cover, so they’ve got a haze around them like neon lights. And there, at the bottom.
​Her number.
​It might not be my smoothest move, but I’ll take it. I pull my phone from my pocket and give her a call. As I wait for the ringtone, I decide to hell with suave and understated. I want her, and I need her to know it.
​But then in my ear I hear, “Mobile Network Temporarily Unavailable.”
​Goddamned Verizon, jamming up my plans. So I try to text her instead.
This is Russ.
From the airport.
I've got your bag and I think you’ve got mine.
How about that drink?
​I hit send, and I’m answered immediately with a row of red exclamation points and four repetitions of NOT DELIVERED. What. The. Fuck.
​Then I noticed my cell service flips over from 1 bar, to Roaming, to Searching for service…
​ I pull my hot pack of gum from my sweaty pocket and take out a second piece. The gum is weirdly melted even before I put it in my mouth.
​The options now are pretty simple: I could touch base with the guy who hired me to come down here to the land that Verizon forgot or…
​I think about those tan lines, the curve of her hips. That bikini. The glisten on her rosy lips. The way she wrinkled her nose when she smiled.
​Why is this even a goddamned question? It’s four o’clock on a Saturday. A beautiful woman is on East Beach Point Drive with all my stuff. And somewhere in this town, I’ll bet there’s a beachside bar with a pitcher of margaritas with our names on it.

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.

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Thursday, March 23, 2017

EXCERPT REVEAL: Royally Bad by Nora Flite


Royally Bad by Nora Flite

Publication Date: April 1st, 2017 Genre: Contemporary Romance

Royally Bad, a sexy new standalone from Nora Flite is coming April 1st!!!


Getting close to an arrogant bad boy like him is dangerous. Too bad it’s her only choice.

Kain Badd looks great on paper: rich, handsome, and he’s even a prince. But after spending a few minutes together, Sammy sees the real him—arrogant, possessive, and too hot for his own good. If she hadn’t agreed to help plan his sister’s wedding, she could have avoided him. Instead, she’s waking up in his bed after an unforgettable night she definitely wants to forget. But he won’t let her.

When Sammy thinks her life can’t get any crazier, the wedding is raided by the police, and she spends her first-ever night in jail. The irresistible Kain isn’t just bad in name—his family is connected to a dangerous underworld. Now she’s mixed up in a power struggle between his family’s empire and their rivals. She has no choice but to put herself back in this filthy prince’s extremely capable hands.

Sammy must trust Kain to keep her safe. She’s just not sure she can trust herself to resist temptation.


“Did you move in or something?” He’d snuck up on me, his arms folded over his gray jacket. He looked oddly clean and crisp in such fancy clothes. In one hand, he held two champagne flutes. We were alone in the kitchen. That fact sat heavy in my belly. Gripping the counter behind me, I said, “Your sister needed the help.” “Careful.” He stepped closer, his eyes never straying from my face. “Once you start with her, she’ll never stop asking you to do things.” Helplessly, I measured the distance between us. I was trapped in my corner; he’d corralled me so easily. “I like helping people.” “I have something you could help with. Something pretty big.” Flushing, I bounced my attention down to his zipper. I didn’t mean to, it was as if his gritty voice had taken hold of my neck and guided me down. And his smile said he’d seen me do it. I cleared my throat. “You’re a big boy, you can help yourself.” “Oh, I do. And I will.” His foot came down, the shiny shoe transfixing me the closer he got. “I’ll jerk this cock off to thoughts of you, sweetheart. Especially to the memory of how you felt in my arms earlier.” My muscles were useless. All I could do was squeeze the counter harder. “Fine. Go do that.” “Tch.” His chuckle caressed between my legs. “You can pretend all you want, but I know I got to you, too. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day.” “I was busy with your sister,” I argued. “And after that?” “I was planning to go home.” “But you didn’t.” His lips were only a foot away. How had he gotten into my personal space so smoothly? When I spoke, it was a whisper. “I was just about to, you interrupted me.” “Let’s get some honesty going.” His arm came forward. I flinched, expecting him to touch me—he put one of the glasses next to me on the counter. “You want me. I can tell how badly you want me. And you also want nothing to do with me.” “That last part is definitely true.” Grinning, he bent against the counter. “You’re not looking for some long-term baby-making plans with me, right?” Fuck, I was so red. “You want to never see me again? Fine.” His low tone flooded my ears, making me dizzy. “Get me out of your system. Fuck me, sweet thing. Fuck me and forget me.” Cupping my chin, he leaned his weight into me. I bent, I crumbled, and I let my facade crack. Kain was too tempting. I wanted to know how his smirk would feel on me, how his quick tongue would taste. He was right. I wanted him. Kain stared me down. I kept wondering when he was going to kiss me. Stepping back, he nudged the champagne into my hand. On impulse, I took it. “Drink,” he explained, “Then come find me in the garden.” There was nothing else to be said, apparently, because he walked out of sight. Sliding down to the floor, I hugged the glass. He’d left me a total mess and he'd barely touched me. Staring into the golden drink, I watched the bubbles pop. Some floated to the top, others clung to the glass as if trying to hold off their fate. Which was I? A fighter . . . or a bubble that wanted to be popped? Putting the glass to my lips, I sipped. Champagne had never tasted so much like sin.

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Meet Nora Flite:

A USA Today Bestselling Author, Nora Flite lives in SoCal where the weather is warm and she doesn't have to shovel snow--something she never grew to love in her tiny home-state of Rhode Island. All of her romances involve passionate, filthy, and slightly obsessive heroes--because those are clearly the best kind! She's always been a writer, and you'll probably have to pry her keyboard/pen/magical future writing device out of her cold, dead fingers before she'll stop. She loves when people say hello! If you see her in the wild, walk up and start chatting.

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COVER REVEAL: Ravenous by LL Collins

Title: Ravenous
Author: L.L. Collins
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Cassy Roop, Pink Ink Designs
 Release Date: April 20, 2017


Raven: To seek, plunder, or prey. To devour ravenously. To seize as spoil.

I am Raven. 

I knew what it meant to fight my way through life.
To be the victim, the spoil, the prey.
I decided long ago I would take control of my future.

No more bug infested couches. 

No more drug-addicted mothers or absentee fathers. 

No more welfare checks or moldy bread. 

No more settling. 

I thought I had it all figured out, a way out of the hand I’d been dealt. 

Until my life got turned upside down by two very different men who look at me with mirrored lust in their eyes.
Their want is palpable, heady. Their desire makes me reckless.
I no longer know who I am or who I want.

The only thing I do know is, I am ravenous.
Voracious. Intensely eager for gratification or satisfaction. 

Despite the fact I know it is a disaster waiting to happen, I can’t stop it.

I’m afraid I will never be sated.


Author Bio

L.L. Collins loves spending her days in the Florida sun with her husband and two boys. LL has been writing since she was old enough to write. Always a story in her head, she finally decided to let the characters out made her lifelong dream of becoming an author come true in the self-publishing world. She's the author of the Living Again Series, the Twisted Series, Back to the Drawing Board, and the Jaded Regret Series. Visit LL on her website, and on all social media. Look for more of her emotionally charged novels soon!

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