6/28/16

Top 5 Things That Make The Man: Reese Crane by Jessica Lemmon (Guest Post)


Curious about what makes Reese Crane, billionaire bachelor, the man? Lucky for us, I was able to get my latest (stubborn) hero to open up about 5 things that make him, well, him.


#5 ~ Beard trimmer. Reese is never without a sexy amount of stubble on his jaw and chin (see book cover) and this bit of dishevelment throws our heroine, Merina right off course. Reese maintains his look, never clean-faced, and never too beardy. Can you say control?

#4 ~ Scotch. Reese prefers it on the rocks, and as he tells Merina on their date one evening, “It’s always what I expect.”

#3 ~ Yacht. In case of temporary nuptials, climb aboard and hide out! But not for long. Sunrise on the deck isn’t optional for Reese—he and Merina need reporters to see them together after the wedding.

#2 ~ Sharp wit. I’m not sure whose banter is more infectious, Merina’s or Reese’s. But I promise you this: when they’re together, they are on fire!

#1 ~ The tie. Merina becomes obsessed with loosening Reese’s ever-present tie, much to the reader’s delight. As she puts it, she likes to see him come undone.

As do I, Mer. As do I. ;-)





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Book Tour: The Billionaire Bachelor by Jessica Lemmon


Indecent Proposal...



Indecent Proposal

Manwhore. That's what the board of directors-and the tabloids-thinks of billionaire bachelor Reese Crane. Ordinarily he couldn't care less, but his playboy past is preventing the board from naming him CEO of Crane Hotels. Nothing-and no one-will keep him from his life's legacy. They want a settled man to lead the company? Then that's exactly what he'll give them.

Merina Van Heusen will do anything to get her parents' funky boutique hotel back-even marry cold-as-ice-but-sexy-as-hell Reese Crane. It's a simple business contract-six months of marriage, absolute secrecy, and the Van Heusen is all hers again. But when sparks fly between them, their passion quickly moves from the boardroom to the bedroom. And soon Merina is living her worst nightmare: falling in love with her husband . . .

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Even with her nostrils flared, Merina forced a smile. There was only one way past this gatekeeper.  She called up an ounce of poise—an ounce being the most she could access at the moment. “Merina Van Heusen to see Reese Crane.”
 

“Ms. Van Heusen,” the woman said, her tone flat, her eyes going to the doorknob in Merina’s hand. “You’re here regarding the changes to the hotel, I presume.”
 

“You got it,” Merina said, barely harnessing her anger. How come everyone was so damn calm about dismantling a town landmark?
 

“Have a seat.” Crane’s bulldog gestured one manicured hand at a group of cushy white chairs, her mouth frowning in disgust as she took in Merina’s dishevelment. “Perhaps I could fetch you a towel first.”
 

“I won’t be sitting.” She wasn’t about to be put in her place by Reese’s underling. Then her prayers were answered as the set of gleaming wooden doors behind the secretary’s desk parted like the Red Sea.

Jackpot.
 

Merina barreled forward as the woman at the desk barked, “Excuse me!”
 

Merina ignored her. She wouldn’t be delayed another second…or so she thought. She stopped short when a woman in a very tight red dress, the neckline plunging into plentiful cleavage, her heels even higher and potentially more expensive than Merina’s Louboutins, swept out of the office and gave her a slow, mascaraed blink back. Then she sashayed around Merina, past the bulldog, and left behind a plume of perfume.
Interesting.
 

Reese’s latest date? An escort? If Merina believed the local tabloids, one and the same. Paying for dates certainly wasn’t above his pay grade.


Before the doors closed, she slipped into Reese’s office.
 

“Ms. Van Heusen!” came a bark behind her, but Reese, who stood facing the windows and looking out upon downtown, said three words that instantly shut his secretary up.
 

“She’s fine, Bobbie.”

Merina smirked back at the sour-faced, coal-eyed secretary as Reese’s office doors whooshed shut.
 

“Merina, I presume.” Reese still hadn’t turned. His posture was straight, jacket and slacks impeccably tailored to his muscular, perfectly proportioned body. Shark or not, the man could wear a suit. She’d seen the photos of him in the Trib as well as Luxury Stays, the hotel industry’s leading trade magazine, and like every other woman in Chicago, she hadn’t missed the gossip about him online. Like his more professional photos, his hands were sunk into his pant pockets, and his wavy, dark hair was styled and perfect.




Clearly the woman who had just left was here on other business…or past business. If something more clandestine was going on, Reese would appear more mussed. Then again, he probably didn’t muss his hair during sex. From what she gleaned about him via the media, Reese probably didn’t allow his hair to muss.
 

The snarky thought paired with a vision of him out of that suit, stalking naked and primed, golden muscles shifting with each long-legged step. Sharp, navy eyes focused only on her…
 

He turned to face her and she snapped out of her imaginings and blinked at the stubble covering a perfectly angled jaw. What was it about that hint of dishevelment on his otherwise perfect visage that made her breath catch?




Thick dark brows jumped slightly as his eyes zoomed in on her chest.

She sneered before venturing a glance down at her sodden silk shirt. Where she saw the perfect outline of both nipples. A tinge of heat lit her cheeks, and she crossed her arms haughtily, glaring at him as best she could while battling embarrassment.
 

“Seems this April morning is colder than you anticipated,” he drawled. 

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A former job-hopper, Jessica Lemmon resides in Ohio with her husband and rescue dog. She holds a degree in graphic design currently gathering dust in an impressive frame. When she’s not writing super-sexy heroes, she can be found cooking, drawing, drinking coffee (okay, wine), and eating potato chips. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a purpose, and with His help, you can create the life you want.



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Release Blast: A Summer To Remember by Marilyn Pappano


FIRST LOVE NEVER FADES . . . 




A SUMMER TO REMEMBER
Tallgrass Series #6
Marilyn Pappano
Releasing June 28th, 2016
Forever


FIRST LOVE NEVER FADES . . . 



It's been a long time since widow Fia Thomas felt the spark of physical attraction. But from the moment she meets Elliot Ross one stormy night, she yearns for a fresh start, for him to make her feel whole and well again. With his broad shoulders and a warm smile crinkling his dark eyes, he could finally offer her the solace she's been seeking. And she's willing to give him anything in return . . . except a promise that could break his heart.



Now that Elliot is out of the Army, he's looking for a place to call home. Tallgrass was just a stop to stretch his legs, yet one look at Fia halts him in his tracks. In her sweet, sassy company, he finds the soul mate he never thought he'd have. But Fia is holding something back-something that keeps her from making any plans. Elliot's new mission: gain Fia's trust...and convince her that summer's end can mean a new beginning.

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“Go on. Sing more.”

He did, and she listened with her eyes half closed. The tones were sweet, the emotion fierce, the quality hands-down better than the singer on the radio. Everything she learned about Elliot was adding up to an extraordinary man.

While she remained plain, average Fia. With “issues.”

“Beautiful,” she responded when the song ended. At about the same time, he turned into her driveway.

He came around and held hands with her to the stoop and up the steps, where he propped open the storm door with his boot while she unlocked the door. She set her purse on the floor inside the door, then faced him. “I’m not going to invite you inside because you’ve got to get up early.”

“Darn.” He moved a step closer, fitted his hands to her waist, and leaned toward her. She met him in the kiss, her mouth parting, her hands sliding around to the back of his neck, combing through his silky hair. Dear Lord, she’d forgotten how good a kiss could be. She nibbled at his lip, pausing only when his tongue thrust between her teeth, invading, exploring, rousing a long-unsatisfied need deep inside. Moving intuitively, her hands glided over soft cotton that covered the lean muscles along his spine. When they reached the rougher texture of jeans and leather belt, the tips tingled, like the briefest touch of a live wire, singeing and searing and sparking pleasure through her body.

When she stroked a few inches lower to slide her palm over his erection, his breath caught, and so did hers. It had been so very long . . .would be so very easy . . . back up one step, don’t let go, take him to the bedroom or, better, the couch, strip off their clothes . . .So easy. So perfect. So wrong.

Even the thought of that last word was wrong. It jangled in the midst of nerves humming with need. It pulled her out of the haze of what she could do, of the incredible satisfaction she could have, and brought back all the ugly uncertainty of her life. Elliot might be Prince Charming, but she was no princess, and her life was no simple, sweet fairy tale with a happily ever after.

Tears seeped into her eyes—disappointment, weariness—and she opened her eyes to blink them away. Apparently sensing the change in her, Elliot ended the kiss with another tiny, sweeter kiss, then clasped her hands in his. For a long time, he studied her face with an intensity that rippled along her skin, then he took a step back, putting breathing room between them.

When he spoke, he sounded as if he’d done a long hump with a heavy ruck on a hot day. “You never did tell me.”

“What?”

“Is Fia short for something?”

“You never did ask.” She didn’t sound much better. “Sofia.”

He laid his palm gently against her cheek, repeated her name, then backed away even farther. “Thank you, Sofia.”

“For what?”

“Being in that parking lot Friday night. For liking me and my dog. For kissing like—” Breaking off, he grinned and shook his head. “Damn.”

“It takes two.”

His grin strengthened, then slowly faded. “Good night.”

Leaning against the door jamb, she watched him go to his truck, get in, and drive away with a final wave. Sighing deeply, she stepped inside the house, closed and locked the door, and stumbled, hitting the floor with a solid thud.




Known for her intensely emotional stories, Marilyn Pappano is the USA Today  bestselling author of nearly eighty books. She has made regular appearances on bestseller lists and has received recognition for her work in the form of numerous awards. Though her husband's Navy career took them across the United States, he and Ms. Pappano now live in Oklahoma high on a hill that overlooks her hometown. They have one son and daughter-in-law, an adorable grandson, and a pack of mischievous dogs.



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6/27/16

Book Tour: Happy Ever After in Christmas by Debbie Mason


It's beginning to look a lot like love . . .


HAPPY EVER AFTER IN CHRISTMAS
Christmas, Colorado #7
Debbie Mason
Releasing June 28th, 2016
Forever Romance


It's beginning to look a lot like love . . .

As her thirtieth birthday approaches, Deputy Jill Flaherty decides it's time to live a little. When she walks into Sawyer Anderson's bar in her sexiest dress, she's not thinking that he's her brother's best friend or about the many women he dated during his years as a pro hockey player. All she's thinking is that it's finally time to confess to her longtime crush how she truly feels.

Sawyer is done being a player on and off the ice. Yet no one in the small town of Christmas seems to believe he's ready to settle down, not Jill, and certainly not Jack, who is determined to keep Sawyer from breaking his little sister's heart. But as Sawyer and Jill's relationship heats up, can he prove that he's her happy ever after?

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Tiffany swiveled on the bar stool and batted her fake eyelashes at Sawyer. "You were amazing out there today. I just loved watching the way you handled the ball."
 

    He scratched his cheek. "Uh, it's a puck."
 

    She giggled. "Oh right, I knew that," she said and went on to reveal how depressingly little she knew about the game.
 

    Her voice droned on as he mixed drinks. He handed her one, hoping she'd stay quiet for at least a few minutes while she drank it. Instead, she took the cherry out of the glass and grinned. "I bet you've never met anyone who can do this," she said, working the stem in her mouth.
 

    Only a couple every weekend. He rubbed his jaw, suddenly tired of the meaningless conversations and hookups.  He looked across the bar and caught Jill's eye. She held up the ice pack and mouthed thanks. He smiled. Now there's a woman he could have a meaningful conversation with. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he shot a panicked look at his best friend. Afraid Jack had suddenly become a mind reader.
 

    But Jack only had eyes for his wife who was lighting the candles on a sugar plum cake. She'd made one for Jack's birthday two years earlier. It was her signature cake and had turned the Sugar Plum Bakery's fortunes around. A chocolate sugar plum was hidden in each cake. Sometimes it held a wish or an engagement ring. Two years earlier, it held Jack's wedding ring and a goodbye note from Grace to her husband. Jill had been the one who'd gotten the sugar plum that night.
 

   He put the memory of her face--the look of hurt and betrayal--out of his mind and turned off the lights as they once again sang "Happy Birthday" to Jack, only this time he was here. When they finished singing, Sawyer turned the lights back on and lifted a drink. "To our hero," he said, and meant it.
 

    "You're my hero," Tiffany said. At least that's what he thought she said. It was a little tough to make out since she was still trying to tie the stem in a knot.
 

    "Thanks," he said, looking up at the sound of laughter. Jill had gotten the sugar plum again.
 

    She opened it and took out a thin strip of paper, then glanced at him. She chewed on her bottom lip. A nervous habit she'd had since she was a little girl. And there was something about the way she was looking at him that made Sawyer nervous. Could she be thinking back to that night, too?
 

    Tiffany pulled his attention from Jill. "I did it," she said, triumphantly holding up the knotted stem. She gave him a suggestive smile. "Any chance you'll be off soon? I’ll show you what else I can do with my tongue."
 

    Aw hell, he thought when Jill started to walk toward him with her brother looking on. "Why don't you show me now?" he said, and leaned across the bar to kiss Tiffany.

 
Don't miss ANY of the Christmas, Colorado Romances!



Debbie Mason is USA Today bestselling author of the Christmas, Colorado series. Her books have been praised for their "likable characters, clever dialogue and juicy plots" (RT Book Reviews). She also writes historical paranormals as Debbie Mazzuca. Her MacLeod series has received several nominations for best paranormal as well as a Holt Medallion Award of Merit. When she isn't writing or reading, Debbie enjoys spending time with her very own real-life hero, their four wonderful children, an adorable grandbaby, and a yappy Yorkie named Bella.


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6/24/16

Book Tour: Chasing Lady Amelia by Maya Rodale


Enter to Win a print copy of LADY BRIDGET'S DIARY
(Keeping up with the Cavendishes Book One)


CHASING LADY AMELIA
Keeping Up with the Cavendishes #2
Maya Rodale
Releasing June 28th, 2016
Avon Books


In the second novel of Maya Rodale’s enchanting Keeping Up with the Cavendishes series, an American heiress finds her reputation—and heart—in danger when she travels to London and meets a wickedly tempting rake

Terribly Improper

Lady Amelia is fed up with being a proper lady and wishes to explore London, so one night she escapes . . . and finds herself in the company of one Alistair Finlay-Jones. He’s been ordered by his uncle to wed one of the American girls. How lucky, then, that one of them stumbles right into his arms!

Totally Scandalous

Alistair and Amelia have one perfect day to explore London, from Astley’s Amphitheater to Vauxhall Gardens. Inevitably they end up falling in love and making love. If anyone finds out, she will be ruined, but he will win everything he’s ever wanted.

Very Romantic

When Amelia finds out Alistair has been ordered to marry her, he must woo her and win back the angry American girl. But with the threat of scandals, plural, looming . . . will he ever catch up to the woman he loves?

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 “Ah, Lady Nansen. Lord Nansen!” The duchess and her charges paused before a couple that looked just like all the others Amelia had been introduced to: they were of an indeterminate middle age, decked in an array of brightly colored silks and satins, and honestly, a bit jowly and gray.
 
“I haven’t yet introduced you to my nephew and nieces.”
 
“And we have been dying to make their acquaintance,” Lady Nansen said, fanning herself furiously. “The ton has spoken of nothing else.”
 
The duchess performed the introductions. Upon meeting James, the new duke, fawning ensued.
Everyone fawned over James these days—but then when his back was turned they whispered about how his father was a horse thief and that James had been raised in the stables and how tragic it was that Durham was now in his hands.
 
“And Lady Claire.”
 
Amelia watched as they took in Claire’s spectacles and her distracted, impatient demeanor. She had not mastered the slightly vacant look of a simpering miss and with a brain as sharp as hers, never 
would. Amelia watched as Lady Nansen decided that Claire would never be an “incomparable,” or whatever they called the popular girls of the ton, and flitted her attention to the next sister.
 
“Lady Bridget.”
 
Amelia watched as her middle sister glided into an elegant curtsy. The duchess beamed. Lady Nansen judged.
 
“Your practicing is paying off,” Amelia murmured. She’d caught Bridget curtsying in front of the mirror in the ballroom for an hour last Thursday.
 
“Do shut up, Amelia,” Bridget said through gritted teeth. Unlike the other Cavendish siblings,
Bridget actually cared about fitting in here. She was obsessed with learning and following the rules.
 
“And Lady Amelia.” She gave a smile somewhere between gargoyle and simpering miss, but perhaps more on the gargoyle side of the spectrum.
 
“You must have your hands full, Duchess, trying to make so many matches.”
 
“It does give one something to do all day,” the duchess replied, with a tight-lipped smile that
Amelia dubbed the One Where I Am Smiling Even Though I Hate What You Just Said. “But I do have every confidence that they will make splendid matches. In fact, I have someone special in mind for Lady Amelia this evening.”
 
The duchess beamed at her charges, as if they hadn’t been foiling her every effort to marry them off. Amelia began to dread meeting “someone special.”
 
“I say, Duke,” Lord Nonesuch or whatever began, “do you have an opinion on any of the horses running Ascot?”
 
The lords always asked James for his opinion on which horse would win a race, so they might win a wager. And then they turned around and made snide remarks about his experience raising and training horses—as if he were beneath them because of this knowledge. Even though he now outranked them.
 
“I do,” James said, smiling easily.
 
“Don’t suppose you’d tell a friend who you think will be the winner?” Lord Nansen or Nancy said jovially, with a wink and a nudge.
 
“I might,” James replied.
 
This was a conversation he’d had before and Amelia had begged him to do something nefarious, like deliberately suggest a losing horse. But James refused and just smiled like he knew the winner and never said a word.
 
“I suppose you’re going to build up Durham’s stables,” his lordship said.
 
“Nansen, he doesn’t have time for horses,” his wife said in that exasperated way of wives. “He must find a bride first.”
 
The duchess beamed, an I-told-you-so smile.
 
Then Lady Nansen turned and fixed her attentions on Amelia. Her fan was beating at a furious pace.
 
“And Lady Amelia, have you found any suitors you care for?”
 
“After having met nearly all of England’s finest young gentlemen, I can honestly say that no, I have not found any suitors that I could care for,” Amelia said. “But I do have a new appreciation for spinsterhood. In fact, I think it sounds like just the thing.”
 
Just the thing was a bit of slang she had picked up. Sticking forks in her eye was just the thing (but only with the good silver!). Flustering old matrons with an honest and direct statement was just the thing.
 
Lady Nansen stared at her a moment, blinking rapidly as she tried to process what Amelia had just said.
 
“Well your sister seems to have snared the attentions of Darcy’s younger brother,” she said, evidently disregarding Amelia and focusing on Bridget, the one who cared about fitting in and finding suitors.
 
“Are Lord Darcy and Mr. Wright here tonight?” Bridget asked eagerly. Too eagerly. “I haven’t seen them.”
 
“It’s not a party without Darcy,” Amelia quipped.
 
Darcy spent the majority of every social engagement standing against the wall, glowering at the company, refusing to dance, and begging the question of why he even bothered to attend.
 
But that was neither here nor there and no one deigned to reply to Amelia, so she sighed and lamented her choice in footwear quietly to herself. When Lord and Lady Nansen took their leave and sauntered off, the duchess turned and fixed her cool, blue eyes on Amelia.
 
“You might endeavor to be a touch more gracious, Lady Amelia.”
 
The Duchess always said everything in perfectly worded, excruciatingly polite phrases. Translation: Lord above, Amelia, stop acting like a brat.
 
“I’m just . . . bored.”
 
And homesick. And unhappy. And dreading the future you have planned for me. And a dozen other feelings one does not mention when one is at a ball.
 
“Bored?” The duchess arched her brows. “How on earth can you be bored by all this?” She waved her hand elegantly, to indicate everything surrounding them. “Is all the splendor, music, and the company of the best families in the best country not enough for you? I cannot imagine that you had such elegance and luxuries in the provinces.”
 
Everyone here still referred to her home country as the provinces, or the colonies, or as the remote American backwater plagued by heathens, when Amelia knew that it was a beautiful country full of forthright, spirited people. It was her true home.
 
They operated under the impression that there was no greater fun to be had than getting overdressed and gossiping with the same old people each night, in crowded ballrooms in a crowded city.
 
She missed summer nights back home on their farm in Maryland, when she would slip outside at night with a blanket, to look up at the vast, endless expanse of stars.
 
This, no matter what the duchess said, just did not compare.
 
 Amelia shrugged.
 
“We already met half these people at the six other balls we have attended this week,” she said. “The other half are crashing bores.”
 
Crashing bores was a phrase Amelia had read in the gossip columns. The violence of it appealed to her.
 
“I suppose it would be too much to ask you to pretend to act like an interested and engaging young lady.” Then, turning to Lady Bridget, the duchess said, “I daresay she couldn’t.”
 
With that, the duchess turned away.
 
She turned away, leaving the words hanging in the air, floating to the ground, just waiting for
Amelia to pounce on them.
 
“Well that was a challenge,” Claire said.
 
“I’m not certain she could manage it.” Bridget sniffed.
 
Really? Really?
 
“Is that a dare?” Amelia asked, straightening up. Oh, she would pretend all right. She would pretend so well they’d all be shocked. It would give her something to do at least. “Because I will take that dare.”
 
“I’d like to see you try,” Bridget replied. Then, muttering under her breath she added, “For once.”
Amelia reddened. Admittedly she hadn’t been taking this whole sister-of-the-duke business seriously. But she would show them. So instead of sticking her tongue out and scowling at Bridget, Amelia stuck her nose right up in the air and turned away.



Maya Rodale began reading romance novels in college at her mother’s insistence and it wasn’t long before she was writing her own. Maya is now the author of multiple Regency historical romances. She lives in New York City with her darling dog and a rogue of her own.


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6/21/16

Book Tour: Drive You Wild by Jennifer Bernard


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DRIVE YOU WILD
Love Between the Bases #3
Jennifer Bernard
Releasing June 28th, 2016
Avon Books


It’s game on for love in the third novel of USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Bernard’s sexy, baseball-themed series.

Kilby Catfish left-fielder Trevor Stark is a ballpark legend. With his good looks, hitting records, and played-for-the-fans arrogance, Trevor makes women lose their minds and men lose their cool. But every time the major league team comes calling, Trevor purposely keeps himself in the tiny Texas town. Why is heart-tuggingly top secret. Until the team owner’s daughter comes to Kilby . . . trying everything up her sexy sleeve to make Trevor talk.

Divorced and disillusioned at twenty-four, Paige Mattingly Austin Taylor is suddenly starting fresh as an intern at Catfish Stadium. She should want nothing to do with the sinfully hot ballplayer her dad warned her to stay away from. But when she discovers what Trevor is hiding from everyone, she realizes there’s much more to him than his face and multi-million-dollar arm. There’s a heart she seriously hopes to win.

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“Are you afraid of the mighty Crush Taylor?” She took another step closer. “He’s not as bad as he seems, you know.”

“I’m not afraid of him.” He placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from coming any closer. Her warmth carried into his skin, into his being, as if it was igniting him from within.


“And I’m not afraid of you.” She ducked underneath his hands in a quick move right out of the NBA. He took a step back and his calves hit the bench situated next to the lockers. She reached out in apology and suddenly they were right smack against each other, chest-to-chest.
 

Fire flashed down his spine, hot and urgent. He hauled her against him—oh, sweet Lord, she felt good. Soft and firm and shapely and alive and fresh and . . . then her mouth was under his, her lips parting, her breath warm, her flesh lush and sweet. It wasn’t a kiss so much as a head rush

     ~~
 

Paige posted the first series of “Baseball’s Hottest Outfield” photos on the team’s Facebook page the next day. A few hours later a thousand people had clicked Like. Not only that, but the viewership of the page soared. It was shared all over the Internet, on Pinterest, on Twitter, on Instagram. It wasn’t just that the three men were criminally gorgeous. A big part of the appeal came from their racial mix and the blend of personalities. Trevor the stone-cold badass, Dwight the dynamic charmer, and Shizuko, the soulful rock star.
 

Paige knew it was all a crock, of course. Trevor wasn’t stone cold, Dwight wasn’t playful all the time, and Shizuko could outcrude most of the clubhouse, and that was saying something. But once those identities became set, people loved them. They were like cartoon characters instead of real people.
At the next game, the crowd roared when the outfielders took their positions on the field. Fans held up even more signs than they normally did. From the owner’s box, Paige scanned the crowd with her binoculars and read the signs out loud to Crush.
 

“ ‘Kilby Hearts Baseball’s Hottest Outfield.’ Thank you very much, we heart you too! ‘We make ’em hot in Kilby, Texas.’ That might be taking a little too much credit. None of them are from here.” 



Jennifer Bernard is a graduate of Harvard and a former news promo producer. The child of academics, she confounded her family by preferring romance novels to … well, any other books. She left big city life for true love in Alaska, where she now lives with her husband and stepdaughters. She’s no stranger to book success, as she also writes erotic novellas under a naughty secret name not to be mentioned at family gatherings.




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6/17/16

Book Tour: The Hang Up by Tawna Fenske


Enter to Win a $20.00 Amazon eGift Card


THE HANG UP
First Impressions #2
Tawna Fenske
Releasing June 13th, 2016
Entangled Publishing


PR specialist Miriam Ashley makes her living cleaning up bad boys. Mountain climber-turned-CEO Jason Sanders should be an easy fix. And with a nephew to care for, he’s motivated. The problem? Every time she tries to help Jason get his head in the boardroom, they end up in the bedroom.

What the hell is she thinking? He’s the definition of off-limits. Not just because he’s a client—he spends his free time risking his life mountain climbing. The same thing that got her father killed. She’s not going to open her heart to a guy who could disappear at the drop of a…well, she’d rather not finish that thought.

She needs to leave complicated alone, but every time she sees Jason, something tells her it’s her who might fall…


 
“At least I have the good sense to keep my mouth shut in board meetings instead of peppering all my dialogue with profanity,” Miriam said.

“Keeping my mouth shut isn’t usually an option as CEO,” Jason pointed out. “I don’t suppose you’d care to give me some pointers on being a more polished professional?”

“What, you mean like etiquette lessons?”

“Sure, something like that.”

Miriam snorted. “We’ve known each other forty-eight hours, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for not realizing I’m the last person in the world who should be giving anyone etiquette lessons.”

“I beg to differ,” he said, his gaze sweeping her body in a way that made her shiver. “You’re the most put-together woman I’ve ever met.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“And you totally owned it in the board meeting.”

“Owning a team of suit-clad, tie-yanking executives is only slightly more challenging than owning a housecat.”

“I’ve met your cat. Considering he sexually assaulted me, that qualifies as a challenging pet.” 
 
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Tawna Fenske is a USA Today bestselling author who writes humorous fiction, risqué romance, and heartwarming love stories with a quirky twist. Her offbeat brand of romance has received multiple starred reviews from Publishers Weekly, one of which noted, “There’s something wonderfully relaxing about being immersed in a story filled with over-the-top characters in undeniably relatable situations. Heartache and humor go hand in hand.”

Tawna lives in Bend, Oregon with her husband, step-kids, and a menagerie of ill-behaved pets. She loves hiking, snowshoeing, standup paddleboarding, and inventing excuses to sip wine on her back porch. She can peel a banana with her toes and loses an average of twenty pairs of eyeglasses per year.

To learn more about all of Tawnas books, visit www.tawnafenske.com




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