Christie's Reviews · Contemporary Romance · Romance · Romantic Comedy

Love Broken by J.D. Hollyfield Blog Tour with 5 ++ Star Review! A Top Read of 2018!!!!

Title: Love Broken
Author: J.D. Hollyfield
Genre: RomCom/Contemporary
Release Date: February 26, 2018

My name is Katie Beller, but the world, as of late, knows me as Bailey Swan, the love guru behind my bestselling book.

Want the shortened version? Here it is: 

Love was stupid.

A fake. A farce

Love was broken. 

Women everywhere were eating up my advice and fighting back against fake love. My book started a relationship revolution. And I stood by my story. 

Until I met Charlie Bates.

When I throw all my own rules and advice out the window after a week-long rendezvous, I start to wonder just how real my words were. Maybe love might be just a little more complicated than I thought. 

Maybe I’m the one who’s love broken.

 ***************************************

CHRISTIE’S REVIEW

5 STARS

A Top Read of 2018!

Amazing Romantic Comedy with lots of emotion!!!!

 

When I have a hard time writing a review, that usually means I loved the book, and I’m trying to come up with the right words to adequately express what a wonderful book it is. Hopefully, I can clearly express how very much I loved this book and the characters. So, here goes….

Katie Beller admits she is broken at love, and she readily admits that she might always be this way. She doesn’t understand love at all. However, she is hiding a huge secret. She has written a book on love that is a bestselling book, but under the name of Bailey Swan. She has no desire to share that news with the public. She finally agrees to take part in a book signing where she meets Charlie Bates, one of the cover models in attendance. He will completely turn her world upside down and challenge her own rules of love. He is totally not her type. He’s too perfect. Katie thinks he would never see anything in her because she is average. During that week, he shows her that he is more than just a pretty face, and he makes her feel like she might just be better than average.

After that week, she decides to not follow her own advice and really get to know Charlie who is Chase Green, a hockey player. Both will see that love is not perfect. They will learn at times, it’s messy and painful, and it can also be a thing of beauty.

 

“Love isn’t defined by one specific interaction or emotion. There’s no rule book on it. No to-do list to make sure you’re doing it right Don’t bother trying to Google ‘how to make all the right moves while in love.’ That shit doesn’t exist. Nor do the warning signs about how scary it is. How it’s messy, never to the point, and it makes people crazy. But then again, if it doesn’t, then you’re probably not in love.”~Katie

 

Oh my gosh, Katie is a girl after my own heart! She is different, and I mean this as a compliment in every sense of the word. She is an enigma…with all her newfound fame, she remains humble. She is a tough cookie and has erected strong walls around her heart, yet there is a softness to her. Her heart is fragile. She is brutally honest about others, yet not with herself. For her to be such a success, she never feels like she is good enough. There will be times you will laugh so hard when you hear the things that come out of her mouth!

Chase is the whole package…sexy, witty, and has a great sense of humor which makes his banter with Katie hilarious. Yet, with all those characteristics, he is flawed, and that made me love him more. He adores Katie, and not a moment passes that he doesn’t make sure that she knows that she is anything but average!

I have read titles by J.D. Hollyfield before, and I loved them. Yet, this one is by far my favorite. The way she wrote this book was truly magnificent, from the characters to the tone in which she wrote it. This wasn’t just about a couple falling in love but a book about love itself. Love is different for all of us. There are all types of love, but all of them “lead to a love that’s beautiful, passionate, and worthwhile.” What a wonderful concept!

***********************************

 

Creative designer, mother, wife, writer, part time superhero…

J.D. Hollyfield is a creative designer by day and superhero by night. When she’s not trying to save the world one happy ending at a time, she enjoys the snuggles of her family and three doxies. With her love for romance, and head full of book boyfriends, she was inspired to test her creative abilities and bring her own story to life.

J.D. Hollyfield lives in the Midwest, and is currently at work on blowing the minds of readers, with the additions of her new books and series, along with her charm, humor and HEA’s.

HOSTED BY:

 

Contemporary Romance

To The Fall by Prescott Lane Release Day Blitz

SBPRBANNER-ToTheFall-RB (1).jpg

To the Fall by Prescott Lane
Publication Date: March 8th, 2018
Genre: Contemporary Romance

TO THE FALL_Amazon_KOBO_iBooks (1)

You know the story.
Boy meets girl, they fall in love, two kids, white picket fence.
This isn’t that story.

This is more like . . .
Man meets woman. Man sleeps with woman.
Man meets another woman, sleeps with her.
And so on. You get the idea.

I own a small boutique hotel in New Orleans, the Kingston. I’ve seen men do some stupid stuff in the name of the woman they love, or at least the woman they love for the night.

That’s not me. I’m always in control. You’d be surprised how much you can get away with on just good manners and a smile. It’s the only way to keep my secrets safely locked away.

And my smile hides a lot. Until her.

She turns me down flat. Playing hard to get is my favorite game. It’s the thrill of the chase.

Only problem is, I think it’s me that’s getting caught.

ToTheFall-AN (1).jpg

Read Today!
FREE in KindleUnlimited
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2tqn6I7
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2G29llr

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2GKDVA5

Release Day Blitz  (7).jpg

Meet Prescott:

Prescott Lane is the Amazon best-selling author of Stripped Raw. She’s got seven other books under her belt including: First Position, Perfectly Broken, Quiet Angel, Wrapped in Lace, Layers of Her, The Reason for Me, and The Sex Bucket List. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and holds a degree in sociology and a MSW from Tulane University. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren’t enough happily ever afters in real life.

Connect with Prescott:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PrescottLane1
Twitter: www.twitter.com/prescottlane1
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2lfhlrh
Instagram: instagram.com/prescottlane1
http://www.authorprescottlane.com

 

Contemporary Romance · Cover Reveals

Dirty Sexy Player by Laurelin Paige Cover Reveal

 

 

DIRTY SEXY PLAYER by Laurelin Paige

Cover Reveal: March 8th

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Designer: Laurelin Paige & Tom Barnes

 

Add to Goodreads

 

PREORDER NOW AVAILABLE

AVAILABLE IN AUDIO FIRST

April 10th

Audible: https://laurl.in/dirtysexyaud

 

AVAILABLE ON ALL OTHER VENDORS

July 23rd

Amazon: https://laurl.in/dsp

iBooks: https://laurl.in/dspibooks

Nook: https://laurl.in/dspnook

Kobo: https://laurl.in/dspkobo

Google Play: https://laurl.in/dspgp

 

 

 

 

 

 

BLURB

Available in audio first, New York Times best-selling author Laurelin Paige’s newest red-hot romance!

Weston King knows how to play. But wild nights and owning an extensive collection of women’s panties don’t carry the thrill they once did, so when his business partner Donovan suggests an outrageous plan to allow them to take over their competition, Wes takes him up on the offer. The crazy idea? Marry the competitor.

Elizabeth Dyson, the bride-to-be in question, is on board with the plan. She wants access to her trust fund and can only get it once she marries. Each has something the other wants – all they have to do is pretend to like each other well enough to tie the knot.

Only trouble is, playing fiancé to Elizabeth isn’t quite that simple. Wes finds her sexy and brilliant…and soon wishes their engagement wasn’t fake at all. Not that he’d ever tell her that.

But a lover boy like Wes can only stand an empty bed for so long…and even the best of players has to put down his cards eventually.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CONNECT WITH LAURELIN PAIGE:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LaurelinPaige/

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2knJOrx

Twitter: @LaurelinPaige

Facebook Fan Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/HudsonPierce/

Website: http://www.laurelinpaige.com

Never miss an update! Subscribe to Laurelin’s mailing list:

Newsletter: http://bit.ly/LaurelinNews

Audio Newsletter: http://www.subscribepage.com/LaurelinPaigeAuralReport

 

Excerpt · Giveaways · MC Romance · Romance

Law & Beard (The Dixie Warden Rejects)by Lani Lynn Vale Release Launch with Excerpt & a Giveway

Today we have the Release Launch for LAW & BEARD by Lani Lynn Vale! Check it out and grab your copy today!

 

Title: LAW & BEARD
Series: The Dixie Warden Rejects
Author: Lani Lynn Vale
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Day: March 8th

 

About LAW & BEARD

Winnie thinks she has the perfect life.

Two beautiful, healthy children. A police officer husband. A job that she loves. Oh, and let’s not forget that she’s a nationally ranked marathon runner.

Fast forward six months, and her perfect life has imploded.

Winnie finds herself in a completely new world, and this new world is a brutal bitch.

In this new life of hers, her husband is gone. He realizes, at the worst possible time, that he’s no longer in love with her. He’s in love with her best friend. So he leaves, and doesn’t look back.

Her sixteen-year-old daughter is in trouble with the law, and she’s barely making ends meet thanks to losing the job that was keeping her and her tiny family afloat.

Then, the last thing that could make it all bearable, her running, is ripped out from under her, too. Thanks to a spinal stroke that leaves her unable to walk, let alone run, she’s having to relearn how to do the simplest of tasks-such as putting on her own pants.

She’s at the lowest of lows, and the last thing she wants is a sexy, bearded, motorcycle riding alpha to tell her how to live her life.

But Steel Cross never asks her what she wants.

***

The moment Steel Cross sees Winnie’s daughter steal some shoes for her younger brother, he knows he’s in trouble.

He’s a sucker for misunderstood teens. After all, he was once one himself.

He knows he can’t just walk away, and the moment he sees that troubled teen’s mother, he doesn’t just know it, he feels it. Down to the very bottom of his soul.

With his share of hard knocks, he knows that he shouldn’t step in and make his move on a fellow police officer’s ex. There’s a code, after all, yet he just can’t seem to help himself.

He’s done being the good guy. Sometimes he just wants to be bad.

And Winnie makes him realize that being bad is still kind of good. As long as you’re with the right person.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

Add to Goodreads

Check out the rest of The Dixie Warden Rejects Series

Excerpt

I’d never, not once, had the pleasure of giving a blow job.

Yet, I wanted to give one…to Steel.

Jesus Christ, did I want to give him one.

The man turned me on in ways that I had no clue I could be turned on by, yet here I was, wondering what it would feel like to give the man a blow job.

My curiosity got the better of me as I googled more tips-which they’d said they’d done as a comparison-and then I got lost in the World Wide Web.

My first stop had been Cosmopolitan!

My second had been some random Joe-Blow (literally, that was the name of the website) blog that gave the men’s top ten best blow job tips-according to men.

1. Maintain eye contact.

2. Tie your hair back, it shows your dedication.

3. Allow him to put his hand in your hair and control the movements.

That, I could do! In fact, the idea of Steel putting his hands in my hair and controlling all of the movement was downright arousing.

4. Use your hand as well as your mouth. Twist it side to side lightly as you pump and suck him.

Okay, pump, suck, and twist. Check!

5. Don’t use your teeth. Ever.

I shivered at the thought. That would suck, accidentally biting Steel’s dick. He’d probably never let me near him again and kick me straight the hell out of his bed. Though, I had to get in his bed first…

6. Drop down so he’s standing and you’re kneeling. There’s nothing more arousing than watching a woman get on her knees.

That thought made me shiver. Would Steel like me on my knees?

I sure the hell hoped so. I’d love to get on my knees for him.

Then again, I was doing good with my rehab…he still might have to help me back up.

I winced. Maybe I should just get on the bed between his splayed thighs…yes, that was how I’d do it.

7. Suck his balls.

Suck his balls? How the hell did I put those in my mouth? There wasn’t enough room!

8. Go slow. It’s not a race.

9. Swallow.

Well, that was self-explanatory. But I didn’t know if I could swallow. I’d try, but what if I gagged?

10. We like it when you gag.

Did they? What if I accidentally threw up? That would completely ruin the mood.

“What are you doing?”

I squeaked and jumped as Steel came out of the bathroom.

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About Lani Lynn Vale

 

Lani Lynn Vale is a USA Today Bestselling Author of over thirty titles. She is married with three children, two dogs, two cats, a donkey, and a couple (a couple also meaning over twenty) chickens.

When she’s not writing, you can find her curled up in her favorite chair reading.

Lani is married with three children, and lives in the Great State of Texas.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | BookBub

 

Excerpt Reveal · Romance

Only You by Melanie Harlow Excerpt Reveal

OnlyYouExcerptSPBR

Only You, an all-new sexy and emotional standalone from USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow is coming March 12th!

MHOnlyYouBookCover5x8_BW_300

Synopsis

Nate Pearson is ridiculously handsome and wears the hell out of a suit and tie, but I’ve seen the parade of beautiful women leaving his apartment across the hall—a different one every time—and I want no part of it. When it comes to romance, I’m looking for something real, something that will last: the happily ever after.

As a divorce attorney, he loves to tell me there’s no such thing.

As a wedding planner, I choose to disagree.

We disagree on almost everything, in fact. Everything except James Bond. The only time we really get along is when we’re watching 007 flicks together, and I’ll admit—he has rescued me from a disaster or five. So when one of the baton twirlers from his parade leaves a baby girl at his door with a note that says “I’ll come back for her” and he begs me for help, I can’t turn him down.

But it’s a mistake.

Because watching him with his daughter, I start to see another side of Nate, a side that has my breath coming faster, my body craving his, my heart longing for him to change his mind about love and tell me there’s a chance for us.

I don’t want to be just another girl leaving his apartment in the morning.

I want to be the one he asks to stay.

Excerpt

“You know, even an alpha male can have feelings occasionally.”

“Oh?”

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter, giving me the evil eye. “Yes. He doesn’t have to be hard as granite all the way through, all the time.”

Don’t think about being hard. Don’t think about being hard. Don’t think about being hard. I leaned back against the opposite counter and sort of held my glass in front of my crotch. “Why are you even concerned with alpha males? You’re never attracted to them.”

“What? Yes, I am!”

“No, you’re not.” I knew her type well. “You’re always saying how you don’t want to be rescued, you want someone willing to show affection and talk about feelings, you don’t like arrogant or competitive guys or guys who always have to win, you like guys who get along with everyone—”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. But that’s not an alpha male.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “But look at Bond. Who is he so worried about protecting? Why is he so driven to kill the bad guys? There must be people he cares about more than himself to put himself in harm’s way so often.”

“Maybe he just likes the thrill of the chase.”

“Maybe he’s more selfless than you think.”

“In this case, I think we’re going to have to disagree.”

She sighed heavily, and I knew I had disappointed her by ending the argument in a draw instead of winning or losing it. Any other night, I might have kept it going, but there was something odd going on with me, something that had me wanting to close the distance between us, set her up on the counter, slip my hands beneath that fuzzy white sweater she had on, see what her legs felt like wrapped around my hips. But I knew better.

Get her out of here before you do something stupid.

“Hey, you got fortune cookies? I didn’t see those.” She reached for the little cellophane bag.

“I forgot about them.”

“Can I have one?”

“You can have them both.”

She took one out and cracked it open. “A ship in harbor is safe, but that’s not why ships are built.”

“Very deep.”

She ignored me and went on to the next one. “You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.” Her lips pursed. “Hm. I don’t want a dangerous ship or a broken heart.”

I laughed at the anguish in her tone and expression.

“It’s not funny,” she said, shoving pieces of cookie in her mouth. “It means I’m doomed to be unhappy. And then I’m going to die in a shipwreck.”

“It means you take things way too seriously.” I tipped back the last of the bourbon in my glass, and set it in the sink. “Well, I’ve got an early morning at the gym tomorrow.”

She popped the rest of one cookie in her mouth and brushed off her hands. “I’m going. What time is it anyway?”

I checked the digital clock on the microwave. “It’s 11:11.”

Her face lit up. “Ooh! Make a wish!”

“What?”

“It’s 11:11, you have to make a wish.” She closed her eyes for a couple seconds, her lips moving as if saying a silent prayer. Then she opened them. “Did you do it?”

I laughed. “No.”

“Nate! Hurry up! Make a wish.” She glanced at the clock and flapped her hands agitatedly.

“I don’t have a wish to make.”

“So make one for me, then. And do it fast, before it’s 11:12.”

This time it was my turn to roll my eyes, but secretly I wished that the next guy she fell in love with would love her back the way she deserved, and she’d be happy. But I didn’t close my eyes, and I didn’t move my lips, so she had no idea whether I’d made a wish or not.

“Did you do it?” She looked concerned.

“Yes.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

Her mouth fell open for a second. “What was it? What did you wish for me?”

I started to laugh as I left the kitchen. “Nice try, Calamity. Even I know you don’t tell a wish if you want it to come true.” The credits were still rolling on the television, and I picked up the remote to turn everything off.

“Oh, now you believe in wishes?” She sat down on the couch and tugged on her fluffy boots.

No, I wanted to tell her. I don’t, because I learned a long time ago that wishes and prayers and hopes don’t mean anything. No one is listening. But I didn’t tell her that, not only because she was looking up at me with my favorite expression of hers, the one daring me to fight back, but because at that very moment, I heard a noise in the hall.

A strange and oddly terrifying noise.

I looked over my shoulder toward the door, thinking I must have imagined the sound.

Then I heard it again—the unmistakable, ball-shrinking, cringe-inducing sound of a baby’s wail.

ONLY-YOU-PREORDER-iBOOKS

Preorder exclusively on iBooks!

iBooks

Add To Goodreads

OnlyYou-Pre-Order

About Melanie:

MelanieHarlow

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

Connect with Melanie:

Facebook I BookBub I Instagram I Mailing List I Website I Amazon I Pinterest

Sign up for monthly text alerts: Text HARLOT to 77948

 

Contemporary Romance · Romance

Fireball (River Street Bar Series) by Nazarea Andrews Release Day Blitz with Excerpt

 

Today we are celebrating the release of FIREBALL by Nazarea Andrews. Fireball is an adult contemporary romance, standalone novel, and it kicks off the brand new River Street Bar series. You can get it for 99 cents for a very limited time.

 

PURCHASE FOR 99 CENTS (limited time only!)

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks (Coming Soon)

FIREBALL by Nazarea Andrews

A Standalone Contemporary Romance

(River Street Bar series, #1)

Blurb:

He’s infuriating…

Dempsey Jones has been a nuisance my entire life, the straight-laced Boy Scout grown up to be a firefighter, of all things. He was the one helping kittens out of trees and old ladies cross the road while I was lighting cherry bombs with my best friend in abandoned buildings, and now that we’re all grown up—even if my Dad doesn’t agree—he’s still just as annoying.

She’s impossible…

Taite Ridley has been a constant my whole life, the curly haired mischievous daughter of the police chief, charming and devious and alluring. She was wild in ways I never dared to be and too big for our little town. But she’s here, a small town cop, and I can’t avoid her, even if I wanted to.

And I don’t want to.

It’s like mixing fire and gasoline and when these two collide, someone is gonna get burned…

Add FIREBALL to Goodreads

PURCHASE FOR 99 CENTS (limited time only!)

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks (Coming Soon)

Excerpt:

I grew up in River City.

It’s a good place for a kid to grow up—small town enough that I could wander without causing much worry, as long as no one counted my father.

He counted himself, but I stopped a while ago.

But it’s small enough that there’s not enough crime that I couldn’t wander, and big enough that it didn’t bore even me to tears. It was this intoxicatingly perfect mix of small town and big city, where everyone knew everyone and we didn’t have to drive an hour to go to a mall or museum.

And I never wanted to leave it. River City was home. I wandered away for college, and promptly came back, and I loved it—it’s where every good memory I had was, a place I cared about with a ferocity that only a native could. It knew my secrets and my history and it kept both safe.

But right this second, as I stood on Mrs. Rudolph’s front yard in the sideways rain—she was perched on her covered porch with a cup of coffee clasped in her wrinkled hands—I was questioning literally every decision I’d ever made in my life.

“Ma’am, we checked your crawlspace last week.”

“That Harper checked it,” Mrs Rudolph says, dismissive as fuck and I hear a muffled snort behind me. My smile feels brittle as she smiles brightly at me. “But I know you’ll do a good job. You don’t mind, do you, Taite?”

And that’s why.

I love River City with all my heart, but I swear to god, becoming a cop in a city that watched me grow up was probably the worst idea I’d ever had.

And I’d had a long and illustrious career of bad ideas, as Daddy was very helpful to point out.

A choked noise came from behind me and I fixed my plastic smile a little bit wider before saying, “Gimme just one second, Mrs Rudolph, Officer Delgado and I need to talk.”

She nods agreeably and takes a sip of her damnable coffee and I turn to pin my partner with a glare.

Miguel doesn’t even have the good grace to try to hide his smile.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, smile wide and cheerful.

“It’s your turn to go crawling under houses.”

“How do you figure that?” he asks, attempting to school his expression.

“I went up the tree for the Foster girls’ kitten last week!”

“Didn’t Dempsey—”

I snarl and he very wisely shuts his mouth. His eyes are still a little too bright, though, and I kinda want to punch him. I do not stomp my foot. “You promised not to bring him up,” I snap.

“I know,” he gives me apologetic eyes. “I slipped, sorry.”

I glance back at the house, at Mrs Rudolph waiting anxiously.

“I have to go, don’t I?” I say, resigned.

Miguel nudges me with one shoulder. “If you don’t, we’ll be here next week. She’s not gonna believe any of us until you tell her there’s nothing down there.”

“But—”

This. This is the problem. I grew up here, the only daughter of the police chief, a fucking widower and somehow became the town mascot. Even when I want to be taken serious, it’s like all anyone sees is the knobby kneed, ratty haired fourteen year old running the streets with Miguel and getting into trouble.

I huff a curse and shrug out of my waterproofed jacket. The rain immediately starts biting into my uniform and I resign myself to spending the rest of my shift wet and muddy.

Maybe Miguel would let us swing by my apartment to change before we headed back to the station.

“I hate this,” I mutter and he nods.

But he doesn’t quite hide his grin as I drop to my knees and crawl under Mrs Rudolph’s damn house.

“I went to school for this. The fucking Academy. So I could crawl around in the mud looking for—fuck. Miguel, what the fuck am I even looking for?” I shout, my voice muffled.

DON’T MISS EXCLUSIVE DETAILS!

Join Nazarea’s READER GROUP.

You can get exclusive news, sneak peeks, giveaways, and more!

————————————

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 

Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories.

When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binge watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids.

N is a self-professed geek and enjoys spending her spare time lost in her favorite fandoms and can often be found babbling about them on social media.

She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.

 

AUTHOR LINKS:

Sign Up For Nazarea’s Newsletter

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr | Instagram | Street Team

InkSlinger PR Blogger Banner - New

 

Excerpt Reveal · Pre-Order Links · Romance

Two Wedding Crasher (The Dating By Number Series Book 2) by Meghan Quinn Excerpt Reveal with Pre-Order Links

I don’t know what love is anymore.

Well, that’s not entirely true, but I’m going to tell you a little secret: I’ve lost the spark.

You know the kind of spark I’m talking about?

Where butterflies take flight in your stomach from two hands innocently colliding. Or catching your breath when you first meet someone attractive. Yeah, that spark.

Except I haven’t felt that feeling in forever; there is nothing left inside of me.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem–but I’m a writer on a serious deadline, and my editor is breathing down my neck for a romantic, Nicholas Sparks type love story. No pressure, right?

That’s how I find myself flying across the country to crash a wedding in the name of research, dress and heels stuffed into my small suitcase.

It should be the easiest book research ever. Drinking some free champagne, basking in the love of two strangers, and tapping into my romantic side. That will be a breeze. I’m a pro. I can handle this.

Until I mistakenly end up in the wrong hotel room, naked as the day I was born, with the sexiest human I have ever met staring me down, wondering what I’m doing taking a shower in his bathroom. I don’t think calling it research will get me out of this pickle.

ADD TO GOODREADS

PRE-ORDER NOW

AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA | AMAZON AU

Crystal-blue ocean shines below me, and if I wasn’t so scared of Zoey and her repercussions for being late, I would take the time to appreciate Mother Nature. Instead I hurry into my room, flop my suitcase on my bed, unzip it, and grab my toiletries.

Not taking a second longer, I strip down, leaving my gross airplane clothes on the floor, and practically skip to the shower where I stop mid stride.

In the shower stall is a black razor, with accompanying shaving cream. That’s odd. Is that courtesy of the hotel? This place is fancy, but not that fancy. Spinning on my heel, I turn toward the sink behind me and spot a white and green toothbrush, tube of toothpaste, and men’s cologne. Shit, turning toward the room, my eyes frantically roam the space, spotting a black suitcase in the corner.

Shit, shit, shit.

Naked, I cover my breasts with my arm and open the closet door only to come face to face with a few hung-up shirts.

Yup . . . I’m in someone else’s fucking room.

And whoever this room belongs to is the neatest person ever because who honestly lines up there toothbrush and toothpaste tube perfectly on the counter?

Reaching for the phone, I call down to the front desk.

“Mr. Wilder, how can we assist you?” Oh yeah, totally not in the correct room.

“Uh, yeah, hi, this is Rylee Ryan. I just checked in. I was given the key to room 625 and it seems to be occupied.”

“Oh dear, let me check.” There is a pause on the phone and then the lady comes on the line again. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss. Ryan. We have you in room 626. Would you like to come down here and grab a new key?”

Is she kidding? The trek it took to get over here ate up enough of my time. I can’t possibly take a shower if I have to run back to the lobby, grab a key, and run all the way back here.

“Would you mind bringing it to room 625? I have dinner plans and have to get changed.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll send someone up with a key right away.”

“Thank you.”

I hop around naked, eyeing my pukey clothes on the floor and the shower in the other room. Twisting my lip to the side, I try to decide what to do. I can be super quick, like really fucking quick. I just need to scrub the puke and throw on a dress, simple. Two minutes tops. The water doesn’t even have to be warm. I’ll write a polite note to Mr. Wilder—whoever that is—leave him five dollars as a kind gesture and quietly leave. No problem with that. Right?

Right.

Turning on the shower, I hop in before the water can warm up and hiss from the frosty temperature. I douse soap all over my hands and scrub my neck and body vigorously first, which normally I would wash my hair first but . . . puke. Once I’m satisfied with the amount of scrubbing, I wash my hair, condition it in a minute, do one more soap scrubbing all over my body before rinsing and turning the shower off. Two minutes.

Just in case Mr. Wilder is sitting outside the bathroom, I peek my head out the door, towel wrapped around my body, and call out, “Hello?”

When there is no response, I check that the coast is clear then strut to my suitcase and find a simple black sundress. Not bothering to look for underwear or a bra—I really don’t need one with my perky B-cups—I lay out my dress and dry off.

Hopefully Mr. Wilder doesn’t mind me using one of his towels or his room for that matter. He’s probably some old dude away on his golfing vacation. I hope I don’t give him a heart attack.

I drape my towel over the bed and run my hands through my naturally wavy, black hair. This will have to do. Picking up my towel one more time, I scrunch my hair, trying to soak up all the water just as the hotel door swings open, light blaring through, a tall, dark silhouette shadowed in the doorframe.

I still, frozen from the tips of my toes to the hand scrunching a towel in my hair.

Toned calves and legs are covered by black board shorts, slick to his thighs, a bulge prominent. Narrow waist where his board shorts ride low on his hips, a black shirt dancing across his broad chest, cinching sleeves cuffed over his biceps, and a V-neck providing a glimpse of how far his tan extends. Head cast down, eyes transfixed on his phone in front of him, he doesn’t notice the naked girl standing in the middle of his hotel room. He stuffs his keycard in his back pocket and looks up, startled.

I scream.

He grumbles something unintelligible as I point out the obvious. “Ahhh, my boobs are naked!” It might be a little concerning that I consider my boobs to be the only things naked at this point.

As quickly as I can, I cover my body, towel making a poor attempt to hide my girly bits.

The man turns away, covering his eyes with his arm while muttering, “Oh shit.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask, struggling with my towel. I know damn well the man in front of me must be Mr. Wilder, and this is in fact his room, and I’m the one intruding, but I still feel the need to place the blame on him for walking in on me naked.

“Grabbing my sunglasses,” he says, his voice terrified but also deep and rumbly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Still trying to cover myself, I scramble to grab my dress and back up to the bathroom. “Washing my neck,” I answer, nervously, boobs swaying with my erratic movements.

Eyes still covered, he keeps his back toward me but straightens up. “Washing your neck? Is that code for some kind of weird Key West thing?”

I back into the bathroom and make quick attempt of putting my dress over my head and righting it so everything is covered up. Hair still damp as well as my body, I step out into the room and clear my throat, dress sticking to my damp skin. “No, it’s not code for anything. I really had to wash my neck.”

“And you chose my room to do that in, because . . .”

Bending down, I shove my dirty clothes in my bag and zip up, giving Mr. Wilder the heads-up that I’m dressed. At least he’s a gentleman . . .

When he turns around, he eyes me up and down, his gaze curious and heated when he sees just how hard my nipples are from the cold shower . . . and the unexpected peep show.

“I didn’t choose your room to take a shower in.” I move my suitcase to the floor and pull up the handle. “The hotel gave me the key to this room by mistake, and since I had puke on my neck from the airplane—long story—I decided to take a quick shower while I waited for my room. I apologize for taking up your space, but I think we’re skipping an important detail here.” I cock my hand on my hip. “You saw me naked.”

“No, I didn’t,” he retorts rather quickly, despite the slow grin that spreads across his face.

I’m calling bullshit. “You totally saw my boobs.”

“I really didn’t. Your scream scared the shit out of me. I didn’t have enough time to see anything before you covered up.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, I ask, “You promise you didn’t see anything?”

“Promise.”

Hmm. “Okay, because being hotel neighbors and all, that would be extremely awkward if you saw me naked.”

“Good thing I didn’t then.” He rocks back on his heels, hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do. Finally he reaches out to the desk next to him and holds up his black Ray Bans. “Just needed my sunglasses.”

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub