2017. november 23., csütörtök

Aurora Rose Reynolds: November előtt ~Értékelés


Sziasztok!

Ma Kikyo (új bloggerinánk) hozta el nektek értékelését Aurora Rose Reynold November előtt regényéről. Fogadjátok sok szeretettel!

 
Fülszöveg

November:
Elhagytam New Yorkot, és a rossz emlékeimet, örökre. Tenessee várt, és apa sztriptíz klubja, ahol könyvelőként dolgozom.
A klubban ismertem meg Asher Maysont.
Asher tipikus rosszfiú, és én nem akarok tőle semmit.

Asher:
Mióta csak az eszemet tudom, soha nem okozott gondot megszereznem egyetlen nőt sem – November előtt.
De akarom őt, jobban mindennél. És megszerzem.
 
 


A. R. Reynolds regényét csupán azért vettem a kezembe, mert nagyon megkapónak találtam a címét. Mivel a fülszöveget elmulasztottam elolvasni, az első „koppanás” akkor ért, amikor szembesültem vele, hogy a címben említett November nem a hónapot takarja, hanem a hősnő nevét. Aztán a második gondolatom az volt, ez az Asher egy majom. 😊 Érdekes módon mégis hajtott a kíváncsiság oldalról-oldalra. Aztán szép lassan rájöttem, miért. Mert aranyosak. Szerethetők. Laza, könnyed, kellemes, humoros olvasmány. Nincsenek eget rengető konfliktusok. Pedig Asher tud néha fárasztó is lenni, de jól áll neki. S bár a Mayson-fiúkat megismerve óhatatlanul a Maddox-testvérek jutnak eszünkbe (akiket talán csak Royalék tudnak lekörözni), mégis megvan a maguk varázsa. Azt hiszem, várom, hogy a többieket is megismerjem.

C.A. Harms: Healing Hope ~Release Blitz

Title: Healing Hope 
Author: C.A. Harms
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 14, 2017 
Hope Larsen is living each day of her life with a crippling guilt. The game of ‘what if’ has made it almost impossible to move forward from such a horrific event. In one life-changing moment, someone who meant so very much to her was taken. A man who once was her best friend. A man she fell in love with.
Now she must face the life she’d laid out before her alone, being reminded each day of his absence. The longing inside her, the desperation to be able to still love him without it hurting so much.
She just wanted to live without feeling the pain of losing Walker. But each time she attempted to move forward, there was that lingering thought that somehow she was tarnishing his memories.
Then he shows up. He waltzes right into her life as if he belongs. Strong, confident, and determined to make her see him.

When Travis Donovan crosses paths with the snarky blond, he’s intrigued. Her dismissal of him and his antics doesn’t have the effect she’d hoped for. In fact, it’s just the opposite. He’s not one to run scared from a challenge, but instead, he's the type to fight even harder to conquer it.
Though she tries to fight her attraction for the cocky electrician, she finds that his dedication fascinates her. 
Over time, Hope comes to the realization that there’s one thing that scares her the most. Travis Donovan reminds her of the one she lost.
That stride, that smile, even the way he torments her…it’s all the same. He could be the one to show her that it's okay to move forward. It’s okay to love again. 
Travis Donovan just might be the one to heal Hope.

She was a fiery little thing.
She couldn’t have been more than five foot two, one hundred and ten pounds maybe, but that was even pushing it. Long blond hair, perfect tits. The woman definitely made this job a little more enjoyable, even if she was currently staring holes through my back. Or maybe it was my ass. 
I look over my shoulder, and again I find her eyes focused on my backside.
Yep, most definitely staring holes in my ass. 
“You almost finished?”
I try to hide my smile when I turn around to face her, but when I see her cheeks flush again, I can’t stop myself.
“What’s so funny?” She narrows her eyes, doing her best to appear unimpressed. I know poking at her only infuriates her more, but again, it was an impulse I couldn’t control. 
“I was just wondering if you wanted to grab your phone.” My smile grew wider when she arched her brow. She looked confused and again it found it fueled me more. “You know, to snap a picture of my ass.” Her eyes narrowed and she stands in a hurry and takes a step toward me. “Now don’t go getting all mad at me, princess, you’re the one openly checking out my backside. I should feel violated.”
“I was not.”
Even if I wanted to believe her words, her eyes gave it all away. She couldn’t even look at me.
“This job was supposed to be done thirty minutes ago.” She chooses to move right over the earlier topic. “Are you sure you’re qualified for this job? Do you even know what you’re doing?”
I nod, loving once again that this woman thought she could outsmart me. 
“Does your boss know about your work ethic?” Again she tries for stern and offended, and again she fails. She was an open book, and I was enjoying every fucking chapter. “I think he needs to know just how rude and obnoxious you are.”
“Maybe he does.” I shrug as I reach into my back pocket and pull out a card. Holding out my hand to her I watch as her gaze shifted. “Give him a call, princess, and tell him all about how you’re sexually harassing his employee.”
She jerked the card from me and instantly placed her other hand on her hip. 
“I am,” she pauses. “I never.” I could see the battle in eyes. “I did no such thing.”
Shrugging again, I turn back toward the job and finished up with the last few things. “Whatever you say, Princess.”
I hear her practically growl in frustration, just before her feet beat against the floor to the other side of the room. Without turning around I imagine her seeking out her phone. My smile growing so wide it makes my cheeks ache as my phone begins to vibrate and ring on my hip. 
Instead of answering it, I hang my head and do my very best to hide my chuckle.
With each ring, it grows harder to refrain and suddenly I’m hit in the back of the head with something soft.
Turning around, I look to the floor at my feet and see a light blue throw pillow. Ever so slowly, I lift my gaze and find a certain blonde with fire in her eyes staring back at me. 
“Did you just throw a pillow at me?”
“Yes, I did.” She didn't even hesitate, “You should consider yourself lucky I didn’t go for the empty bottle instead.”
A moment of silence passes before she walks toward me once more and places a hand on each hip. The action alone pushes out her breasts, and it takes everything inside me not to lower my eyes. 
“You are an ass.” The way she states this slowly enhances the humor once again. “For a business owner, I must say I’m surprised you are as credible as you are. You must spend most days in the office, otherwise, I’m sure it’d be hard to land a job.”
I stand before her, a screwdriver in one hand and a switch cover in the other, observing her every move. The way her nose wrinkles up as if she is confused by my lack of reaction to her words. 
“And will you stop smiling?” Her words come out in more of a whine. I can almost visualize her stomping her foot.
“Why does my smile affect you?” I was rolling into dangerous territory here. Keeping things professional had never been a problem for me, until now. Messing with clients, or even renters of clients was something I never did. At this point though, it was addictive. This battle of wills between two stubborn people intrigued me. I liked the way she challenged me with just one simple look. “Does my smile make that fire inside you ignite? Does it make you feel something you don’t want to admit?” He taunted me a little more, and for a moment I slipped allowing him to see a trace of a smile tug at the corner of my lips. 
That was my mistake, it was like throwing meat out for a hungry lion, it only gave him an invite to play a little more. “Tell me what part you like most?”
“You truly are an ass!” I hated how he affected me, but I also felt a spark of interest that I hadn’t felt in so long. His arrogance irritated me more than I should be allowing it to, but it reminded me so much of the person I had lost. The person I spend every day missing. They were alike in the way they held themselves, that confidence that gave them such a powerful impact on those around them. The mischievous glimmer in their eyes, it was all so much the same.
C.A. Harms is like any other addicted reader. She enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories. She hasn't always been a lover of Romance and had once been addicted to a good Mystery. Just recently she has taken on a new liking and now is a full blown Romance novel addict. She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. You will always find her with her kindle or paperback in hand as it is her favorite pass time.
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2017. november 22., szerda

Willow Winters: Damaged ~Blog Tour


Title: Damaged
Author: Willow Winters
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover Design: Coverlüv
Photo: Alex Wightman
Model: Evan Swift 









I married the bad boy from Brooklyn.
The one with the tattoos and the look in his eyes that told me he was bad news.
The look that comes with all sorts of warnings.
I knew what I was doing.
I knew by the way he put his hands on me; how he owned me with his forceful touch.
I couldn’t say no to him, not that I wanted to. That was then, and it seems like forever ago.
Years later, I’ve grown up and moved on. But he’s still the man I married. Dangerous in ways I don’t like to think about. Sexy as sin, he attracts all the wrong kinds of temptations.
The kind that lands a couple like us in the gossip columns.
The kind that’s unforgivable.
The kind that splits up marriages.
I did this to myself. I knew better than to love him.
And now I’m fucked.
I married the bad boy from Brooklyn. And I don’t know how to survive this.










Willow Winters is so happy to be a USA Today, Wall Street Journal and #1 Contemporary Bestselling Romance Author. She likes her action hot and her bad boys hotter. She certainly doesn’t hold back on either one in her writing!

Willow started writing after having her little girl, Evie, December 2015. All during her pregnancy with Evie she continued to read and she only wanted to read romance. She was reading a book a day — sometimes two.

In January 2016 Willow was staying up late with Evie and just thinking of all these stories. They came to her constantly so she finally sat down and just started writing. She always wanted to do it so she figured, why not? Today Willow cannot be happier for making that decision!









M.C. Cerny: The Warden ~Release Blitz

Title: The Warden
Author: MC Cerny
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance 
Release Date: November 21, 2017 
Convicted.
Imprisoned.
At only nineteen.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse...
I met him. 
Cohen Shephard.
The Warden.
With his sexy eyes, controlling demeanor, and badass attitude,
I was his for the taking.
And he wants me...
To help him.
In return, he’ll clear my name.
After all, I’m Benedicta Cruz.
And I’m innocent.
To an extent.
But I want more.
So much more.

The Warden

The Warden - A sexy new novella by M.C. Cerny.
“Benedicta Alejandra Cruz, you are found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to…” I stopped listening when the verdict was read. I’d never experienced depression, but I was sure my parents had to be rolling in their graves. Their only daughter, their hope for the future, was about to be shackled in silver, skin biting cuffs and sent to prison.

In all of this chaos, the reading of the verdict was the first time I lost my last shred of hope. The grain striations of the wooden table where I sat looked more interesting than the man in robes yammering on about my debt to society. What about the debt society owed me? This wasn’t a fair trial. It was a speedy trial with an easy conviction because I fit the bill, not because I was guilty.
Circumstantial evidence, my ass.
The judge continued speaking to me, but my eyes had glazed over. “…at least five years in prison and not more than ten as per the Texas statute. Given your youth and the likelihood that this act was committed out of provocation for your safety, I have no choice but to remand you to the state correctional unit in Colby. You will stay there for the duration of your incarceration until your parole hearing. Since your arrest, you have accumulated four months of time served.”
And then there was my lazy ass lawyer who was more interested in trying to bone me in the back of his powder blue 1991 Caddy Seville than getting the evidence to prove I didn’t do it. My anger simmered and with it my jaw clamped shut. Freaking out now would only give the entire courtroom justification for the sentence. No need to show them my crazy Latina side.
I clasped my hands together to keep from punching my thighs or slapping the table in anger while the judge droned on. “That time will be credited to your remaining sentence. Do you have anything you wish to say?” The judge graced me with a fatherly glance before giving a deep sigh that marred his weathered face with a frown. He was gruff, and no-nonsense, looking me over as if he waited for my meltdown and only hesitated a moment for my response, which wasn’t forthcoming.
My face flamed, hot and shamed, but not with guilt for the crime I’d been charged with and found guilty of, but because there was nothing for me to say. People who knew me would have said I was full of fire, but today, it felt like a torrential rain had beaten me down to sputtering smoke and ash.
“May she burn in hell! Puta!” Damp air speckled my cheek from the spittle that flew in my direction from just a dozen feet away.
“I make her suffer too! An eye for an eye is my vengeance!” A pencil hit my cheek, grazing the skin, and I ducked down to avoid further abuse. The prosecutor stood up defensively as I sat there numbly taking the verbal insults. My hands were high over my head in surrender.
“Enough! Sit down, Mrs. Espina, or I’ll hold you in contempt! Bailiff!” the judge fired back, because hey, what’s a blanket threat when I’ve already been convicted? Bailiffs standing against the wall took one step forward in a languid attempt to hold her back from the first lunge at me. She managed to knock papers and glasses of water over, spilling the liquid on my lawyer in her effort to hit and slap me. I knew better than to touch her when the judge slammed his gavel down repeatedly urging those lazy guards to break it up. She got lose, able to reach me and my cheek rung with the violence of her backhand. I nearly toppled from my chair, my shoulder and arm up to protect me from a second strike.
Anything I did now would have been self-defense, not that this court understood that at all. After all, she was the mother of the man I’d supposedly killed almost five months earlier. Grant’s mother thought I deserved what I got. It’s kind of hard to convince the world you’re innocent when your fingerprints are all over the tire-iron that bashed his head to smithereens.


M.C. Cerny fell in love with books after experiencing her first real ugly cry reading, Where The Red Fern Grows. Her debut romantic suspense novel, Flashpoint was written in a series of post-it-note ramblings that would likely make her idol Tom Clancy and her mother blush. She is a post graduate of NYU and calls rural NJ home with her menagerie of human and feline fur-babies. When M.C. is not writing, you’ll find her lurking in Starbucks, running stupid marathons, singing Disney show tunes, and searching out the perfect shade of pink nail polish.
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