Happy Halloween from my family to yours!!
I hope you all have a great one!
This Mom is hoping for a Bears WIN tonight!
Monday, October 31, 2016
My Review of Preppy by T.M. Frazier
Samuel Clearwater AKA Preppy finally gets his story! T.M. Frazier delivers an outstanding story about our beloved "bow tie, until I die" boy!
Preppy is the 5th book in a series of EPIC books!! You must read King, Tyrant, Lawless and Soulless before you read this book. You want the full story behind each and every character that T.M. has given us. These stories will take you on a whirlwind of emotions with crying, jaw dropping and wondering WTH! Oh and I forgot the most important, panty dropping! Ha!
This story starts out 3 years before everything went down (again, must read the other books to understand).
Preppy has a wild sense of humor but also a dark side! He is a complex character with a lot of flair! We are able to learn more about his past that has helped shape him into the man he is today. He has survived a gritty past that wasn't always pleasant.
Andrea ‘Dre’ Capulet is struggling with an unfortunate life that she didn't plan on having. The poor thing looks back on how different things could be without ever having to go down this dark road she has been on. She's broken, sassy and a great match for Preppy! They make a good disheartened couple each fighting their own demons but doing it together!
This a great read full of emotion! It is gritty, complex and ends on a cliffhanger! I can't wait to see what T.M. has in store for us with the next book!
This story starts out 3 years before everything went down (again, must read the other books to understand).
Preppy has a wild sense of humor but also a dark side! He is a complex character with a lot of flair! We are able to learn more about his past that has helped shape him into the man he is today. He has survived a gritty past that wasn't always pleasant.
Andrea ‘Dre’ Capulet is struggling with an unfortunate life that she didn't plan on having. The poor thing looks back on how different things could be without ever having to go down this dark road she has been on. She's broken, sassy and a great match for Preppy! They make a good disheartened couple each fighting their own demons but doing it together!
This a great read full of emotion! It is gritty, complex and ends on a cliffhanger! I can't wait to see what T.M. has in store for us with the next book!
This Isn't You, Baby Book Tour! You need to READ this Book!
The Isn’t You, Baby
by K. Webster War & Peace #4 Publication Date: October 25, 2016 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark, Romance
Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | Amazon AUS | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo
About K. Webster
K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.
Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.
You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!
Website: www.authorkwebster.com Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP
Happy Cover Reveal for Hail Mary!
Coming November 28th
Exclusive iBooks pre order:
At a boxing gym in Chicago, Mary Monahan accidentally knocks out the most handsome man she’s ever met. After she wakes him up with a few slaps and some smelling salts, the very first thing he does is ask her out for ribs and beer. His name is Jimmy. He looks like a Gillette model. And he’s just too hunky to resist.
Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.
Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.
But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”
In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.
Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.
And throws their lives into total chaos.
***
To the reader: Contents includes love, sweetness, naughtiness, honey, champagne, and an HEA. Safe.
Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.
Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.
But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”
In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.
Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.
And throws their lives into total chaos.
***
To the reader: Contents includes love, sweetness, naughtiness, honey, champagne, and an HEA. Safe.
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
Thursday, October 27, 2016
BOOK TOUR for Preppy by T.M. Frazier
The Bow Tie is Back!
PREPPY by T.M. Frazier is LIVE!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2cTDLel
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2dLPjxf
iBooks: http://apple.co/2dTC9Pe
Nook: http://bit.ly/2dvflpI
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2dyWedL
Blurb
Samuel Clearwater, A.K.A Preppy, likes bowties, pancakes, suspenders, good friends, good times, good drugs, and a good f*ck.
He’s worked his way out from beneath a hellish childhood and is living the life he’s always imagined for himself. When he meets a girl, a junkie on the verge of ending it all, he’s torn between his feelings for her and the crippling fear that she could be the one to end the life he loves.
Andrea ‘Dre’ Capulet is strung out and tired.
Tired of living for her next fix. Tired of doing things that make her stomach turn. Tired of looking in the mirror at the reflection of the person she’s become. Just when she decides to end it all, she meets a man who will change the course of both their lives forever.
And their deaths.
For most people, death is the end of their story.
For Preppy and Dre, death was only the beginning.
This is the fifth book in the King Series and it's meant to be read after Soulless.
Excerpt
“No! I hate you,” she spat, as I continued to tug her beside me.
“Good, you can hate me while I fuck you,” I said. “But first things first. My lesson obviously didn’t take in that brain of yours. You want what you want and I can’t stop you,” I said, as we approached the train tracks which were elevated on a mound of gravel several feet off the ground. The warning lights flashed orange, the neon reflective barriers dropped down to cover the service road, while the bells indicating an approaching train clanged away. “And since I can’t stop you, I’m going to help you out. Bullet in the head was so three hours ago. I’ve got something even better in mind now.”
“Wait. What?” she asked, her teeth chattering. “You…you wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t what?” I said, turning around to face her, almost losing my footing when I noticed the trail of dried tears on her cheeks. I looked away for a fraction of a second to regain my composure. “You think I wouldn’t kill someone?” I cocked an eyebrow. “You already know that I’ve been there, done that, bought the motherfucking t-shirt, doll.” Her eyes went wide and she made a move to step back. “Oh no, Doc, I read your letter and I saw what you wanted. And remember, I’m nothing if not accommodating.”
When I pulled her to climb the gravel mound her knees locked up so I bent over and picked her up by the waist, tossing her over my shoulder, carrying her onto the tracks while she beat on my back with her closed fists. When I got to the top I set her down roughly and she fell backwards onto her ass, bracing herself with her hands against the large pieces of gravel under the tracks.
The whistle of the train blew in the distance. It wouldn’t be long now. Dre made a move to stand up, but that wasn’t what I had in mind. I bent down and pushed on her chest, spreading her tiny frame across the tracks. I crawled on top of her, pinning her down with my thighs. I leaned over her, my chest to hers as we both breathed rapidly. She struggled underneath me to get up, pushing at my chest, but I wouldn’t budge. “Why the struggle, Doc? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
She glanced up at me as the train whistled again. Her gaze flipped to her right, where the single yellow light from the train emerged from around the corner, shining brighter and brighter as it chugged closer and closer. For a moment she stopped struggling, looking back and forth from the train to me.
“So what, you’re gonna die too?” she asked, hoping to appeal to my sense of self preservation.
I shrugged. “I get bored easily, maybe the devil will make me his errand boy or something.”
“Preppy, this isn’t funny. Get up and get off the fucking tracks,” she said, her concern shifting from herself to me.
I shook my head and yawned. She wiggled underneath me, and although there was a train barreling toward us my cock once again stirred to life. Maybe I should just rip down her panties and push inside of her. Train or no train, it would be one fuck of a way to go out.
“You have to choose, Doc,” I said, making my voice as serious as I was capable. “Life?” I asked, screaming over the sound of the train screeching against the track. I pushed my hard cock against her core and she gasped. Her trembling turned into a shiver, her mouth fell open. I glanced to the side at the blinding light of the approaching train as it bathed us both in a tunnel of light. I leaned down, so close that my lips were a whisper above hers, as I shouted, “Life? Or death? What’s it gonna be, Doc?” My hair blew around my face as the light grew brighter and brighter. “Answer the fucking question!” I demanded, my hands squeezing her shoulders, my fingers digging roughly into her skin. “DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?”
With only seconds left until we became shredded under the train, Dre closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them again they were glistening, fresh tears spilling from the edges.
She started to speak, her lips forming the beginning of the word, but before it could fully leave her lips I stood, pulling her up with me. I lifted Dre into my arms and took a running leap off the tracks, my legs flailing in the air as we fell the seven or so feet. Dre’s decision still on her lips, her scream surrounding the air around us as we crashed down into the field.
“I wanna liiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvveeeeee.”
About the Author:
T.M. Frazier is a USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR best known for her KING SERIES. She was born on Long Island, NY. When she was eight years old she moved with her mom, dad, and older sister to sunny Southwest Florida where she still lives today with her husband and daughter.
When she was in middle school she was in a club called AUTHORS CLUB with a group of other young girls interested in creative writing. Little did she know that years later life would come full circle.
After graduating high school, she attended Florida Gulf Coast University and had every intention of becoming a news reporter when she got sucked into real estate where she worked in sales for over ten years.
Throughout the years T.M. never gave up the dream of writing and with her husband’s encouragement, and a lot of sleepless nights, she realized her dream and released her first novel, The Dark Light of Day, in 2013.
She’s never looked back.
GIVEAWAY
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Release Blitz for Engage (The Disciples' Daughters #3) by Drew Elyse
Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.
They came for her in the night.
When she wakes, she’s in a cell.
She has no idea if it will help, but it is the only option she has:
She tells them she belongs to the Savage Disciples MC.
A Disciple will fight like a savage when it counts.
Years ago, he lost everything.
Now, the club is the only thing Jager allows himself to care about.
Nothing matters but his Savage Disciple brothers.
At least, until she arrives and he has a decision to make.
This biker has no idea what choosing to engage could mean to a Disciple's daughter.
They came for her in the night.
When she wakes, she’s in a cell.
She has no idea if it will help, but it is the only option she has:
She tells them she belongs to the Savage Disciples MC.
A Disciple will fight like a savage when it counts.
Years ago, he lost everything.
Now, the club is the only thing Jager allows himself to care about.
Nothing matters but his Savage Disciple brothers.
At least, until she arrives and he has a decision to make.
This biker has no idea what choosing to engage could mean to a Disciple's daughter.
Jager
“Hi,” I heard from beside me and saw the older Davies woman sidle up.
“Hey,” I replied to Ash.
“So,” she went right on, “where’s Ember?”
“How should I know?”
She looked innocent, but it wasn’t some showy, wide-eyed, porn-acting look. It was just her keeping her expression clear. She shrugged. “You two seem…close.”
There were a lot of ways to define close. Ember and I might have been a fuck of a lot of one of them, but we weren’t any of the rest.
“No.”
“Huh.” I didn’t know whether Ash was playing a game or just using this as a way to continue her mission to get close to me. She’d been at it for a while, always seeking me out when the opportunity arose, like right then when the club was hosting a party. Those opportunities weren’t exactly few and far between, and she always took them.
“She seems really sweet,” Ash went on. “It makes it even more horrible, what she went through.”
She wasn’t wrong. That shit was always fucked, knowing it happened to Ember made me fucking homicidal.
In a softer, deeper voice, Ash said, “I don’t think she’s dealing with it.”
She saw the breakdown that afternoon in the clubhouse plain as I did. She saw Ember around with the brothers acting like everything was normal. She hadn’t seen Ember wake from a nightmare, something I knew was a common occurrence from the way she reacted. It was clear she didn’t need to to suspect the truth. I was pretty fucking certain Ember wasn’t dealing with any of it.
I expected the next thing out of Ash’s mouth to be a suggestion that I try to help Ember, like I’d helped her, but that was not going to fucking happen. I’d laid that shit out for Ash—as much as I ever had, anyway—because I wasn’t sure anyone else was going to be able to help her. Not to mention, Ash had already been very spoken for. I could have unloaded all that shit, given her every fucking part of my messed up past and dropped to my knees to beg her to be mine, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Ember’s situation was different, and there were a fuckload of people around ready to do what they could. To add to that, our situation was different. I kept on fucking her and burdened her with all that shit, she’d get ideas she had no business getting.
I wasn’t in the market for an old lady. Not now, not ever.
Ash didn’t preach to me about helping her. No, the next thing from her mouth was, “Oh, wow.”
My eyes followed her line of sight.
Fuck.
Good fucking God, Ember was trying to fucking kill me. First with her excitement over that goddamn car of hers. I’d never cared for the bimbos they put in bike and car magazines, sprawled out half-naked and oiled up on whatever vehicle they were spotlighting. If I wanted that kind of thing, I’d get porn. It had always been about looking past them to whatever actually had my interest. Watching Ember, not even done up a bit compared to those women, leaning all around that hotrod of hers to give it a look, I found I really fucking understood. Ember and that beauty were the shit teenage wet dreams were made of. I thought the hard on she gave me right then would never fucking deflate.
I wasn’t even going to start in on that tight ass dress she wore to the fight.
With both those and the images burned in my brain of her tied up and creaming for me, I thought I’d gotten a good sense of how crazy the woman could make me.
I hadn’t even scratched the surface.
It seemed, being stuck with just the Hoffman mall to get herself stocked, she’d had to settle. Now, with the guys getting Ember’s shit from Seattle, she was able to give it all. And that all was a fuck of a lot more.
She strutted into the yard on a pair of red heels I was damn sure she’d be wearing with nothing else. I’d work her until her skin was as bright as the fucking things before I fucked her in them. That was how fucking hot she looked. I was ready to lose it over the fucking shoes alone.
The rest of her…there were no words. She looked like the hottest fucking pin-up ever. If they’d been able to photograph her and stick her on the postcards they sent to the boys during the world wars, morale would have been at an all-time high. Fuck, you put her on postcards now, you’d have guys enlisting just to get a copy.
She had on a pair of short shorts that went up to her waist. I couldn’t see her ass, but the way they fit her like a glove everywhere else told me that view would be spectacular. On top, she had a red and white striped halter shirt. It looked like a sailor get up, and if I had to get on a fucking boat to get it off her, I would. Her blonde hair was all pinned up away from her neck, her bangs rolled, and she had a red bandana tied around her head. Even from across the yard, I could see her lips were painted red to match the rest. I loved red lips. Red lips made a fucking mess and they looked great with a black ball gag.
I was getting way too worked up for the situation. There was maybe a millimeter of restraint keeping me from marching across the yard, pushing her down to her knees, and getting a look at how much of that lipstick would rub off on my cock.
Did she come in that car of hers? Jesus. Her in that outfit, climbing out of that hot rod, bending over the hood…fuck, I was making a fucking porno of her in my head.
I finally looked away from her when Emmy ran across the yard again, this time toward Ember, yelling, “You look pretty!”
Kid didn’t know the half of it.
“Hi,” I heard from beside me and saw the older Davies woman sidle up.
“Hey,” I replied to Ash.
“So,” she went right on, “where’s Ember?”
“How should I know?”
She looked innocent, but it wasn’t some showy, wide-eyed, porn-acting look. It was just her keeping her expression clear. She shrugged. “You two seem…close.”
There were a lot of ways to define close. Ember and I might have been a fuck of a lot of one of them, but we weren’t any of the rest.
“No.”
“Huh.” I didn’t know whether Ash was playing a game or just using this as a way to continue her mission to get close to me. She’d been at it for a while, always seeking me out when the opportunity arose, like right then when the club was hosting a party. Those opportunities weren’t exactly few and far between, and she always took them.
“She seems really sweet,” Ash went on. “It makes it even more horrible, what she went through.”
She wasn’t wrong. That shit was always fucked, knowing it happened to Ember made me fucking homicidal.
In a softer, deeper voice, Ash said, “I don’t think she’s dealing with it.”
She saw the breakdown that afternoon in the clubhouse plain as I did. She saw Ember around with the brothers acting like everything was normal. She hadn’t seen Ember wake from a nightmare, something I knew was a common occurrence from the way she reacted. It was clear she didn’t need to to suspect the truth. I was pretty fucking certain Ember wasn’t dealing with any of it.
I expected the next thing out of Ash’s mouth to be a suggestion that I try to help Ember, like I’d helped her, but that was not going to fucking happen. I’d laid that shit out for Ash—as much as I ever had, anyway—because I wasn’t sure anyone else was going to be able to help her. Not to mention, Ash had already been very spoken for. I could have unloaded all that shit, given her every fucking part of my messed up past and dropped to my knees to beg her to be mine, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Ember’s situation was different, and there were a fuckload of people around ready to do what they could. To add to that, our situation was different. I kept on fucking her and burdened her with all that shit, she’d get ideas she had no business getting.
I wasn’t in the market for an old lady. Not now, not ever.
Ash didn’t preach to me about helping her. No, the next thing from her mouth was, “Oh, wow.”
My eyes followed her line of sight.
Fuck.
Good fucking God, Ember was trying to fucking kill me. First with her excitement over that goddamn car of hers. I’d never cared for the bimbos they put in bike and car magazines, sprawled out half-naked and oiled up on whatever vehicle they were spotlighting. If I wanted that kind of thing, I’d get porn. It had always been about looking past them to whatever actually had my interest. Watching Ember, not even done up a bit compared to those women, leaning all around that hotrod of hers to give it a look, I found I really fucking understood. Ember and that beauty were the shit teenage wet dreams were made of. I thought the hard on she gave me right then would never fucking deflate.
I wasn’t even going to start in on that tight ass dress she wore to the fight.
With both those and the images burned in my brain of her tied up and creaming for me, I thought I’d gotten a good sense of how crazy the woman could make me.
I hadn’t even scratched the surface.
It seemed, being stuck with just the Hoffman mall to get herself stocked, she’d had to settle. Now, with the guys getting Ember’s shit from Seattle, she was able to give it all. And that all was a fuck of a lot more.
She strutted into the yard on a pair of red heels I was damn sure she’d be wearing with nothing else. I’d work her until her skin was as bright as the fucking things before I fucked her in them. That was how fucking hot she looked. I was ready to lose it over the fucking shoes alone.
The rest of her…there were no words. She looked like the hottest fucking pin-up ever. If they’d been able to photograph her and stick her on the postcards they sent to the boys during the world wars, morale would have been at an all-time high. Fuck, you put her on postcards now, you’d have guys enlisting just to get a copy.
She had on a pair of short shorts that went up to her waist. I couldn’t see her ass, but the way they fit her like a glove everywhere else told me that view would be spectacular. On top, she had a red and white striped halter shirt. It looked like a sailor get up, and if I had to get on a fucking boat to get it off her, I would. Her blonde hair was all pinned up away from her neck, her bangs rolled, and she had a red bandana tied around her head. Even from across the yard, I could see her lips were painted red to match the rest. I loved red lips. Red lips made a fucking mess and they looked great with a black ball gag.
I was getting way too worked up for the situation. There was maybe a millimeter of restraint keeping me from marching across the yard, pushing her down to her knees, and getting a look at how much of that lipstick would rub off on my cock.
Did she come in that car of hers? Jesus. Her in that outfit, climbing out of that hot rod, bending over the hood…fuck, I was making a fucking porno of her in my head.
I finally looked away from her when Emmy ran across the yard again, this time toward Ember, yelling, “You look pretty!”
Kid didn’t know the half of it.
Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.
When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.
A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.
When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.
A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.
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