Friday, September 30, 2016

Jailbait by Emily Goodwin *~*~*~*~* Excerpt Reveal



Ebook


Title: Jailbait
Author: Emily Goodwin
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 6


Goodreads


Synopsis

Grayson King is anything but royal…

Pepper Davenwood is the embodiment of class…

They say opposites attract, but what happens when they collide?

Recently released from prison, the only thing Grayson wants more than a fresh start is a chance to prove himself to the only woman he’s ever loved. But with a past he can’t talk about, a criminal record he can’t explain, and the mess his father left in wake of his sudden death, Grayson knows it’s not going to happen.

Until it does.

And now that he’s back in her life, Grayson realizes the very woman he’d give up everything for might be the one to take it all away. Because the heart knows no limits when it comes to love, and Grayson will do whatever it takes to keep Pepper safe.

Even if it means breaking the law…again.





Jailbait
Copyright 2016 Emily Goodwin
Prologue
Grayson
Rich bitch.
I stop in the middle of the driveway, hot sunlight warming me in my leather jacket, and watch her cross through a breezeway, heels softly clicking on the cobblestone. Wind blows her hair around her face, and strands of gold shimmer in the sun. Laughter floats through the air, hardly audible over the bubbling fountain surrounded by perfectly groomed white flowers. She’s busy talking on the phone as she gets into a black Tesla, and doesn’t even see me.
But it’s not the first time I’ve seen her, nor is it the first time I’ve walked up these thick, stone steps leading to the Davenwood Manor. I set my gaze on the dark oak double doors, covered in intricate carvings and the letters “D” and “W” etched into the frosted glass.
The Tesla quietly comes to life and takes off down the driveway. I turn, unable to help but admire the beauty of both the car and the driver. I don’t like the way my heart flutters when I get a glimpse of her face in the rearview mirror. Her golden brown hair tangles behind her in the wind as she accelerates. She’s so grown up, miles from the scraggly girl I used to run around with. I blink and turn back to the doors, noticing a security camera tucked away in a corner of this ostentatious covered porch, and knock on the door.
Just seconds later, the door is pulled back and I’m hit with a blast of cold air.
“Good afternoon,” a voice comes from inside. I’m not able to see the speaker in the dark foyer. “Mr. King, I presume?”
“Yes,” I say gruffly.
The outline of a butler dressed in all black comes into view. He bows his head slightly and extends his arm. “Come in.”
I step inside the century-old mansion, remembering the first time I set foot in this place twenty years ago. I couldn’t wait to get inside then, thinking it looked like a place Bruce Wayne might have spent his childhood before he turned into a vigilante. And maybe—just maybe—there could be a badass billionaire living in here too that I’d stumble into when I got lost on my way to the bathroom. That never happened, of course, much to my childhood disappointment.
“Mr. Davenwood is waiting for you,” the butler continues and turns, leading me through the foyer. The place is dim, and all the dark wood and faded paintings aren’t helping. Weird, how I feel so closed in from the lack of light when this place is fucking huge. The same familiar smells hang in the air: wood polish, leather, and an earthy perfume. The scent of the rich.
I follow behind the butler. I’ve been in here before, but can’t navigate around all 20,000 square feet. The house darkens the further in we go, and I can’t help but feel like I’m walking into the belly of the beast. The butler opens another set of heavy oak doors, and steps to the side. Sunlight pours through two-story windows that are surrounded by bookshelves that run from the floor all the way to the ceiling. A balcony runs around the perimeter of the bookshelves, and a metal ladder is attached to the shelves. A large desk is situated in front of a cast iron spiral staircase. A man who I haven’t seen in years sits at that desk. I pause, keeping my face neutral. Those years have not been kind to him.
“Grayson King.” With a crunch of leather, Alcott Davenwood rises from the tall chair and buttons his navy blue jacket. “It’s been too long.” He gives a curt nod to the butler, who steps out of the library and closes the door. Alcott turns his attention back to me with a slight smile on his thin lips.
I move my head up and down, unsure of the etiquette of the rich. I don’t really give a shit, but I’m too curious to make a wrong move and piss the guy off. We haven’t seen each other since my father’s funeral six years ago, and suddenly he’s calling me, asking that I come from my home in California to this estate in New York with no explanation as to why.
“Thank you for coming,” he says and moves around the desk. “You look well, considering.” Standing a few feet in front of me, he looks me over before clapping me on the back. The greeting is over quickly, and he extends his hand to the velvet couch. I sit on the edge, flicking my eyes around the library.
Alcott goes back to his desk, and with a heavy sigh, sits in the tall chair. He puts his elbows on the desk and swallows. “You’re wondering why I called.” He’s not asking; he knows I’m in the dark. “There’s no easy way to put this, and you know I’m not one to bullshit around things.”
I don’t know that, because I don’t know Alcott Davenwood. My father did, and the years of friendship and trust between them has created some sort of weird bond between the man and myself. If my father trusted this man, then I trust him. My father didn’t hand out trust and friendship to just anyone. And if it wasn’t for Alcott, his attorney, and his money, my father wouldn’t have been able to get custody of me and I’d never escaped my drug addicted mother living in a run down apartment in the ghetto of Chicago. I’ve only seen Alcott a few times in person, but I know I basically owe this man my life.
That’s never a good debt to have.
“I’m dying.” Alcott’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“What?” I say, even though I clearly heard him.
“I’m dying,” he repeats and puts his hand to his chest. “Lung cancer.”
I blink, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry…but why are you telling me?”
Alcott lets out a hearty laugh. “A fair question. I’m a businessman, Grayson. Protecting my assets is a priority, and there is nothing more important to me than my daughter. I’m sure you remember her.”
Of course I remember Pepper Davenwood. She’s not someone you can ever forget. Though judging by the way she peeled out of the driveway in her expensive car, she sure as shit doesn’t remember me.
“Pepper is safe, well guarded. She knows this. Hell, the world knows this. No one will touch her…while I’m alive.”
Silence falls between us as things click into place. “How long do you have?”
“The doctors gave me six months.”
“How long ago?” I find myself leaning forward.
“Six months ago. I’m on an experimental drug that’s giving me more time. But as with life, it’s never enough.” Alcott inhales deeply and looks out the window. His face remains stoic, but I catch a glimpse of emotion in his eyes. A ruthless businessman coming from a long line of rich assholes, Alcott Davenwood has made a fair share of enemies in his day. His gray eyes move back to me. “I assume you know why you’re here now.”
“Why me?”
“I need someone capable,” he begins to explain. “You’re a man with a particular skill set, one that can come in handy while protecting my daughter.”
I feel my chest begin to tighten as it hits me that Alcott Davenwood knows me a hell of a lot better than I know him. It makes sense though; I wondered how the hell my father was able to pay my bail and afford that lawyer just months before he passed. I swallow hard and look at Alcott, still having a hard time wrapping my head around how someone like him—a high society man, with an aristocratic family tree, and more money than God—could be such good friends with a man like my father, who’s biggest claim to fame was becoming VP of The Jackals Motorcycle Club for three years before his heart attack.
Alcott Davenwood and Nicolas King were polar opposites. Maybe that’s why they made such good friends, kept the interest in each other’s lives. My father rarely spoke of his time in the Army, but I know that’s how they met.
“And,” Alcott lowers his voice, leaning forward over his desk. “I need someone I can trust.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You trust me?” I could bust out laughing right now, but don’t. The thought of something happening to Pepper is sobering.
“I do trust you,” he says, speaking each word slowly. “You are your father’s son.”
“You know my past…I’ve done some bad things,” I blurt.
Alcott’s eyes narrow and his weak smiles widens. “So have I.”
The man before me is aged, weakened by sickness. Yet I find him more intimidating than anyone I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some fucked up people. Because a man like Alcott Davenwood has money, and money can buy anything.
“Don’t you have hired guards?” I can’t help but ask.
“Many. But the thing is, they work for me. And when I’m gone…” He trails off with a shake of his head.
Yeah, I get it. Once Alcott is dead and gone, the company and all the Davenwood riches fall to Pepper, his only child. And last time I checked—granted it was years ago—Pepper had no interest in taking over the empire. She’ll sit back and let whoever the hell her father assigned assistant status to make the decisions. She’ll be a sitting duck, at the mercy of the highest bidder.
Fuck.
“My Pepper is a smart girl,” Alcott goes on. “Smart, and kind.” He says it like a flaw, like he’s saying she’s lazy or vain. Alcott might be the only person in the world to think kindness is a flaw, but when people are constantly trying to pull the rug out from underneath you—and that rug happens to be made of billions—maybe you see the world differently.
“So,” he continues. “Are you interested in the position?”
“What exactly do I have to do?” I ask, though it doesn’t feel like I have much of a choice. If I say no, I’m fairly sure Alcott Davenwood would see to it the rest of my life is even shittier than it already is.
“Learn Pepper’s habits, where she likes to spend time with, who her friends are…without being seen.”
“You want me to spy on her?” I lean back on the soft velvet couch, cocking an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t phrase it that way,” Alcott tells me, though really, I could think of worse things than watching Pepper all day. “Knowing who she associates with now before the public learns of my demise is imperative.”
Before the pubic… “Pepper doesn’t know, does she?”
“Only the doctors at Good Faith Methodist Hospital and now you know. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
I move my head up and down, looking right into Alcott’s eyes, and wonder why the fuck would he keep this from his daughter? My old man and I weren’t exactly best buddies, but when it came down to his final hour, I wished I’d known and taken advantage of the time we had together.
An image of Pepper flashes in my mind, to the fleeting time I got to call her mine. She was eighteen and full of rebellion and lust. I remember the times I’d sneak over, coming through the woods and meeting her in the courtyard. She’d bring me up into her room, and we assumed no one knew. Judging by the blinking red light in every corner of this room alone, this place has as much security as the White House.
It’s a wonder Alcott never skinned me alive. Though in hindsight, I wasn’t a threat. I didn’t care about her money or her family name.
Only her.
“I will pay you well,” Alcott says. “More than double what you’re making and Cal’s Customs, and more than you’d ever be able to earn on your own given your…your status.” My criminal record, he means. “And I will provide you with a place to live, a new phone number, and a vehicle more conspicuous than that hunk of metal you ride around.”
My fingers twitch, wanting to curl into fists. Don’t insult my bike, no matter who you are…and how the fuck does he know all this? Right. You can buy information. I internally shudder. No wonder he needs someone from the outside to watch over Pepper.
“I prefer to provide you with whatever you need…leave the past behind you, so to speak,” he says and narrows his eyes. He leans forward, looking me right in the eye. “This may be presumptuous of me, but I assume you want out.”
My mouth goes dry and sweat breaks out along my back. Alcott knows fucking everything. And of course I want out. I never wanted in. No one gets out alive. No one. I look Alcott hard in the eye, and he raises his eyebrows ever so slightly, telling me it’s possible.
No one has gotten out alive…but no one had a billionaire buying their freedom either. I might have a snowball’s chance in hell, but if I can get out, get away, and keep the skin on my back…fuck. It’s worth it on its own.
“Glad we can come to an agreement,” Alcott says.
“I haven’t accepted the job yet,” I remind him.
Alcott looks at me, the smile gone. I keep my face set, a bit of a permanent scowl darkening my features. It’s in my nature to play hardball, to not let anyone not let anyone know what’s going on beneath the surface. If I were a betting man, I could make a decent profit by betting that Alcott already knows what I’ve worked so damn hard to bury.
Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have called me. And I wouldn’t have risked everything to come here. But I’ll be damned to admit it to anyone else, let alone myself.
I’ve been in love with Pepper Davenwood since the day we met.


About the Author

EmilyEmily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.

She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she's not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.




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WAVE by Jennifer Foor *~*~*~*~*~*~* Cover Reveal




Synopsis:
Brian (Baz) Zakins has dreamed of becoming a
pro-surfer since he was a child. At twenty-two, he knows he's running out of time to attract a sponsorship.
Determination. Dedication.
NO DISTRACTIONS!!
Miley Rose never should have been in the water that afternoon. Tourists have no business swimming in local surfing areas, but there she was, being taken under by a ten foot swell.
What Baz didn't realize was that saving this beautiful woman would have devastating consequences; ones that may potentially rob him of everything he ever wanted.
This is the story of
loss - pain- and finding the courage to continue
when none seems possible.

Find out if love can save a lost soul, or if the majestic waves of the sea will wash away the hope for a new future.





Goodreads Link:


About the Author:
A Maryland native who spends most of her time devising a plan to live off the land on some remote island, where no one will ever find her.

She is a married mother of two kids, who may or may not drive her completely bonkers. In her spare time she enjoys shooting pool, camping and spending time with friends and family.




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Thursday, September 29, 2016

RIVETED (Saints of Denver #3) by Jay Crownover *~*~*~*~* Cover Reveal



Jay Crownover’s RIVETED (Saints of Denver #3) is coming February 14, 2017! Check out the amazing cover and preorder your copy today! #YallNeedChurch #LoveIsStrongerThanFear #Riveted

From the New York Times bestselling author of the Marked Men books comes the next installment in the Saints of Denver series.



Everyone else in Dixie Carmichael’s life has made falling in love look easy, and now she is ready for her own chance at some of that happily ever after. Which means she’s done pining for the moody, silent former soldier who works with her at the bar that’s become her home away from home. Nope. No more chasing the hot as heck thundercloud of a man and no more waiting for Mr. Right to find her; she’s going hunting for him...even if she knows her heart is stuck on its stupid infatuation with Dash Churchill.

Denver has always been just a pit stop for Church on his way back to rural Mississippi. It was supposed to be simple, uneventful, but nothing could have prepared him for the bubbly, bouncy redhead with doe eyes and endless curves. Now he knows it’s time to get out of Denver, fast. For a man used to living in the shadows, the idea of spending his days in the sun is nothing short of terrifying.

When Dixie and Church find themselves caught up in a homecoming overshadowed with lies and danger, Dixie realizes that while falling in love is easy, loving takes a whole lot more work…especially when Mr. Right thinks he’s all wrong for you. 



About Jay Crownover:


Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked MenThe Point, and the Saints of Denver series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she'll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs.  


Monday, September 26, 2016

A Love Letter to Whiskey by Kandi Steiner *~*~*~*~*~* Cover Reveal

Title: A Love Letter to Whiskey
Author: Kandi Steiner
Release Date: Oct 13, 2016
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It’s crazy how fast the buzz comes back after you’ve been sober for so long.
Whiskey stood there, on my doorstep, just like he had one year before. Except this time, there was no rain, no anger, no wedding invitation — it was just us.
It was just him — the old friend, the easy smile, the twisted solace wrapped in a glittering bottle.
It was just me — the alcoholic, pretending like I didn’t want to taste him, realizing too quickly that months of being clean didn’t make me crave him any less.
But we can’t start here.
No, to tell this story right, we need to go back. 
Back to the beginning.
Back to the very first drop.
This is my love letter to Whiskey. I only hope he reads it. 
The first time I tasted Whiskey, I fell flat on my face.
Literally.
I was drunk from the very first sip, and I guess that should have been my sign to stay away.
Jenna and I were running the trail around the lake near her house, sweat dripping into our eyes from the intense South Florida heat. It was early September, but in South Florida, it might as well have been July. There was no “boots and scarves” season, unless you counted the approximately six weeks in January and February where the temperature dropped below eighty degrees.
As it was, we were battling ninety-plus degrees, me trying to be a show off and prove I could keep up with Jenna’s cheerleading training program. She had finally made the varsity squad, and with that privilege came ridiculous standards she had to uphold. I hated running — absolutelyloathed it. I would much rather have been on my surf board that day. But fortunately for Jenna, she had a competitive best friend who never turned down a challenge. So when she asked me to train with her, I’d agreed eagerly, even knowing I’d have screaming ribs and calves by the end of the day.
I saw him first.
I was just a few steps ahead of Jenna, and I’d been staring down at my hot pink sneakers as they hit the concrete. When I looked up, he was about fifty feet away, and even from that distance I could tell I was in trouble. He seemed sort of average at first — brown hair, lean build, soaked white running shirt — but the closer he got, the more I realized just how edible he was. I noticed the shift in the muscles of his legs as he ran, the way his hair bounced slightly, how he pressed his lips together in concentration as he neared us. 
I looked over my shoulder, attempting to waggle my eyebrows at Jenna and give her the secret best friend code for “hot guy up ahead”, but she had stopped to tie her shoes. And when I turned back around, it was too late.
I smacked into him — hard — and fell to the pavement, rolling a bit to soften the fall. He cursed and I groaned, more from embarrassment than pain. I wish I could say I gracefully picked myself up, smiled radiantly, and asked him for his number, but the truth is I lost the ability to do anything the minute I looked up at him.
It was an unfamiliar, warm ache that spread through my chest as I used my hand to shield the sun streaming in behind his silhouette, just how you’d expect the first sip of whiskey to feel. He was bent over, hand outstretched, saying something that wasn’t registering because I had somehow managed to slip my hand into his and just that one touch had set my skin on fire.
Handsome wasn’t the right word to describe him, but it was all I kept thinking as I traced his features. His hair was a sort of mocha color, damp at the roots, falling onto his forehead just slightly. His eyes were wide — almost too round — and a mixture of gold, green, and the deepest brown. I didn’t coin the nickname Whiskey until much later, but it was that moment that I saw it for the first time — those were whiskey eyes. The kind of eyes you get lost in. The kind that drink you in. He had the longest lashes and a firm, square jaw. It was so hard, the edges so clean that I would have sworn he was angry with me if it weren’t for the smile on his face.He was still talking as my eyes fell over his broad chest before snapping back up to his sideways grin.
“Oh my God, are you fucking blind?!” Jenna’s voice snapped me from my haze as she shoved Whiskey out of the way and latched onto my hand, ripping me back to standing position. I’d barely caught my balance before she whipped around to continue her scolding. “How about you brush that long ass hair out of your eyes and watch where you’re going, huh champ?”
Oh no.
I didn’t even have time to call dibs, I couldn’t even think the word, let alone say it, before it was too late. I watched it, in slow motion, as Whiskey fell for my best friend before I even had the chance to say a single word to him. 
Jenna was standing tall, arms crossed, one hip popped in her usual fashion as she waited for him to defend himself. This was her protocol — it was one of the reasons we got along. We were both what you’d call “spitfires”, but Jenna had the distinct advantage of being cripplingly gorgeous on top of having an attitude. She flipped her long, wavy blonde ponytail behind her and cocked a brow.
And then he did, too.
His smile grew wider as he met her eyes, and it was the same look I’d watched fall
over guy after countless guy. Jenna was a unicorn, and men were enamored by her. As they should have been — she had platinum blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, legs for days and a personality to boot. Now, before you go thinking that I was the insecure best friend - I had it going on, too. I worked hard, I was talented - just not at the things traditional high school boys valued.
But we’ll get to that.
“Hi,” Whiskey finally said, extending his hand to Jenna this time. His eyes were warm, smile inviting — if I had to pick the right word for him, just one, I’d say charming. He just oozed charm. “I’m Jamie.”
“Well, Jamie, maybe you should make an appointment with the eye doctor before you run over another innocent jogger. And you owe Brecks an apology.” She nodded to me then and I cringed at my name, wondering why she felt the need to spill it at all. She always called me B — everyone did — so why did she choose the moment I was face to face with the first boy to ever make my heart accelerate to use my full name?
Jamie was still grinning, eying Jenna, trying to figure her out, but he turned to me after a moment with that same crooked smile. “I’m sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.” He said the words with conviction, but lifted his brows on that last line because he and I both knew who wasn’t paying attention to the trail, and he wasn’t the guilty party. 
“It’s fine,” I murmured, because for some reason I was still having a difficult time finding my voice. Jamie tilted his head just a fraction, his eyes hard on me this time, and I felt naked beneath his gaze. I’d never had anyone look at me that way — completely zeroed in. It was unnerving and exhilarating, too. 
But before I could latch onto the feeling, he turned back to Jenna, their eyes meeting as slow smiles spread on both of their faces. I’d seen it a million times, but this was the first time I felt sick watching it happen.
I saw him first, but it didn’t matter.
Because he saw her.
Kandi Steiner is a Creative Writing and Advertising/Public Relations graduate from the University of Central Florida living in Tampa with her husband. Kandi works full time as a social media specialist, but also works part time as a Zumba fitness instructor and blackjack dealer.

Kandi started writing back in the 4th grade after reading the first Harry Potter installment. In 6th grade, she wrote and edited her own newspaper and distributed to her classmates. Eventually, the principal caught on and the newspaper was quickly halted, though Kandi tried fighting for her “freedom of press.” She took particular interest in writing romance after college, as she has always been a die hard hopeless romantic (like most girls brought up on Disney movies).

When Kandi isn’t working or writing, you can find her reading books of all kinds, talking with her extremely vocal cat, and spending time with her friends and family. She enjoys beach days, movie marathons, live music, craft beer and sweet wine – not necessarily in that order.
   

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Wed by Wednesday (A Passion in Paradise novella) by Sarah O'Rourke *~*~*~*~* Release Day & Review


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Wed by Wednesday

What happens when a naive city girl answers a personal ad to marry a bachelor farmer from the hills of Tennessee? Destiny! Read how Orla and Jethro's story started back in the 1960s...and find out exactly how deliciously naughty these two can be!   This insta-love 50,000-word novel is filled with humor, romance, and just enough erotica to keep you coming back for more. Wed by Wednesday is the prequel to Sarah O’Rourke’s Paradise series, and like all of her books, it can be read as a standalone.

“Listen, chaste kisses are fine for what they are. Quick exchanges of affection. An innocent way to tell somebody they mean something. When you wanna show a woman that she’s what’s lighting the fire in your gut, though… quick and innocent pecks just don’t do the trick. Nah, a man goes dark and dirty for that kind of lesson. He wants his woman wet and hot. And he wants her that way everywhere. Her mouth. Her core. Everywhere.”
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 “Thirty- one?” Orla echoed faintly. “He’s thirty-one?” The longer Nellie talked, the less this man sounded like the one she’d been corresponding with for weeks.   Why, her Jethro, was sweet and soft-spoken, and certainly not as old as thirty-one. No. Her Jethro was nothing like the animal the older woman was describing.

 “Yes, ma’am.   He surely is. I changed that rascal’s diapers myself,” Nellie announced with a decisive nod, her eyes widening as she apparently noticed the surprise on young Orla’s face. “What?” You mean to say that you didn’t know how old your beau was?”

 “Well, not his exact age. I mean, his letters indicated he was older than me. I just assumed there were only a few years between us,” Orla confided in a strangled whisper. Hells bells! Her future husband had over a whole decade’s experience on her. What in the world about her would attract a worldly, well-off man like him? “Why hasn’t he wed before now then?” she asked without realizing she’d spoken out loud.

 Nellie was quick with an answer to her question, however. “Oh, many a girl around these parts have tried to lasso Jethro’s heart, but that surly demeanor of his runs all decent women right off his scent once they get a whiff of how crabby he is for two thirds the day.”

 “What’s he doin’ for the other third?” Orla asked shakily.

 “Oh, he’s sleepin’. Collectin’ his strength so he can keep his title as the world’s most boorish bachelor and all such manner of things. Truly, ‘bout the only time I’ve heard him stay civil for more than fifteen minutes is the hour long sermon we all sit through once a week at the church. And maybe once or twice a year when he’s paying his respects at his dear departed momma and daddy’s grave or something such. Otherwise, he’s blunt as a hammer and speaks with a tongue sharper than any knife you’ll ever come across.”


I HEART BOOKS REVIEW

Wed by Wednesday (A Passion in Paradise novella) by Sarah O'Rourke
Review by Theresa Esterline
Stars:  5

The good ole days... ;)

As I've read all the Passion books, I always look forward to what Orla will do or say. Have you ever wondered what makes her tick? How someone with her experience can be so bold, brash, and brilliantly funny all at the same time... Well, now we get to find out! And now a bit about the story..

After a long day with a sour stomach on the bus, Orla arrives in Paradise to meet her fiance. Smelling bad and looking wrinkled she heads to the local cafe... not quite yet the I don't care cafe ;) to settle her stomach and freshen up. What she learns in the cafe almost has her heading right back to the bus station. Until in walks Jethro, 31 years young - handsome, but stubborn; oh and ornery, horny, and out of sorts as he has just learned his mother ordered him a mail order bride!!

Favorite passages:
- “I think we both know that I haven’t been a kid for quite some time, Mother McKinnon.”“And yet, when you open your mouth lately, all I hear is a spoiled little boy that’s determined to avoid his most important chore,”
- “Both make you pissy as a horny rooster that’s been locked out of the henhouse.”
- “You’ve eaten chicken, right?” he tried to reason with her. “Well, yes.  But never one I knew personally,”
- “You worry about pleasin’ me, and I’ll worry about pleasin’ you. The rest of the world can go to hell,”
- “Birds gotta fly, and cow’s gotta shit, Orla.  On a farm, it’s as natural as breathing for these animals,” Jethro returned... “Well, that was just plain rude!” she declared, feeling mildly traumatized… possibly more from the smell than the actual act itself. “I’ll register your complaint with the head heifer in charge. Until then, your delicate sensibilities will just have to take a backseat to the job at hand.”



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 Who is Sarah?   Sarah O’Rourke is actually two besties who live three states apart and write at all hours of the day and night! Born and raised in the Southern United States, they are overly attached to their one-click accounts, can’t make it through the day without copious doses of caffeine, and spend way too much time on the phone with each other.  Between them, they have four children and twenty years of marriage...one to a super soldier and the other to egomaniac engineer. They hate empty chocolate wrappers and writer’s block, love to talk to readers...and oh, by the way, they write about strong, kick-ass women and hot alpha heroes!

WANNA STALK THESE TWO....
Facebook | Amazon | Website | Twitter | Goodreads 
Email: sarahorourkebooks@gmail.com  

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Joshua (A Mitchell Healy Novel) by Jennifer Foor *~*~*~*~*~* Blog Tour & Review



Synopsis:
They say without the support from his family, a man is lost.
My parents have been pushing me to make the right choices throughout my life. Instead of taking their advice, I’ve gone against their guidance more times than I care to admit.
Now I’ve done the unthinkable; something they would never approve of.
I'm involved with a beautiful, compassionate woman, but I've also been in a  complicated relationship with her best friend on and off for several years.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but I have deep feelings for both.
Now one of them is pregnant.
My choice should be easy, but nothing ever is, at least not in my experience.
I want to reach out to my family, but I already know they'd tell me I screwed up, just like in the past.
I have to figure this out.
A choice will be made.
Hearts will be broken, and one of them will most definitely be mine.

I'm Joshua Healy, and this is exactly what I deserve.














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REVIEW:



I HEART BOOKS REVIEW

Joshua (A Mitchell Healy Novel) by Jennifer Foor
Review by Theresa Esterline
Stars:  5

Laugh, Cry, Love!

I can't believe the Mitchell and Mitchell-Healy series have come to and end... it is sad, but they went out with a bang!  I laughed and cried, I wished I could trade places with Tamsyn, while watching to reach in and strangle Livvy.  Joshua is the last of the babies, and while he still gets treated like a kid (mom doing his laundry, cooking for him, etc) he is all grown up. Muscular from working the ranch and cocky from the years he's been protecting his heart.  But people can change, right?

Joshua is a short term love em and part ways type of guy.  Except with Livvy.  His best friends little sister and he's been in love with her since they we just hitting puberty.  Only problem was she was the forbidden fruit who told him he wasn't good enough and made him keep their relationship a secret.  But when he finally meets Tamsyn, a woman he wants to move on with, Livvy is back in full force to break them up.  Will the baby be able to grow up and withstand his first love?

Favorite passages:
 - “Yeah, well nothing good ever comes easy.”
 - “I’m like a storm. I come rolling in with little warning, and when I’m done there’s usually a mess to clean up. You may want to take that warning and run while you still have the chance.”












About the Author:
A Maryland native who spends most of her time devising a plan to live off the land on some remote island, where no one will ever find her.

She is a married mother of two kids, who may or may not drive her completely bonkers. In her spare time she enjoys shooting pool, camping and spending time with friends and family.



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