Friday, April 18, 2014

Cover Reveal: Ripped by Katy Evans


Ripped by Katy Evans 
 Release Date: December 16, 2014
Publisher: Gallery Books
Series: Real #5
Pre-Order: Amazon | iBooks | B&N

Description:
Every woman wants me--except the one I sing for.
Seattle shakes with anticipation: they call it the concert of the year. They say girls are getting pregnant just thinking about Crack Bikini being in town.
But when you love a girl, you don't leave her with nothing but a ring and a promise.

Any man with half a brain should know..

So what did I expect my girl would do when she saw me again?

Well, for starters, she loathes our music. Particularly the song I wrote about her.

When I sing it, the stadium is in an uproar. Thousands of fans scream my name like

I'm a god--but yeah, not her. Crystal clear: the girl's not happy to see me. 

Black hair, black boots, a bad attitude, that's her -- Pandora Stone is a freaking man-eater and she's out for my blood.

That's alright.


Let her come at me. Because I'm out for her heart and, this time, there's no way she can stop me.


I actually love this. For some reason, I'd been unaware that this book had a rocker, but now that I know...*GRABBY HANDS* (Pfft, as if I wouldn't have had grabby hands anyway. SPOILER ALERT: I would have.) But seriously, I love the guitar, and I am also quite fond of the attractive male. I'm so excited for this book! Katy Evans freaking rocks.

What do you think of the cover? Does the rocker thing make you WANT this book? Or are you feeling meh about it? Let me know what you think!

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Don't Look Back by Jennifer L. Armentrout Release Day!

Don't Look Back releases today!!!!!!!! Crazy how it doesn't feel like that long ago when this book was just an ominous page on Jen's website with little information, but intriguing nonetheless. And now the book is released. AHHH! I'm currently reading this book (or maybe I'll have finished it by the time this has posted...) and I can tell you right now that this book is freaking addicting. In a different way from Jen's other books, but still 100% potent. So I need all of you to do me a favor and read this book so we can gush about it together, okay? OKAY.

Don't Look BackDon't Look Back by Jennifer L. Armentrout 
Release Date: April 15, 2014
Pagecount: 384
Publisher: Disney-Hyperion 
Buy It: Amazon | B&N | iTunes 
 
Description from Goodreads:
Samantha is a stranger in her own life. Until the night she disappeared with her best friend, Cassie, everyone said Sam had it all-popularity, wealth, and a dream boyfriend.

Sam has resurfaced, but she has no recollection of who she was or what happened to her that night. As she tries to piece together her life from before, she realizes it's one she no longer wants any part of. The old Sam took "mean girl" to a whole new level, and it's clear she and Cassie were more like best enemies. Sam is pretty sure that losing her memories is like winning the lottery. She's getting a second chance at being a better daughter, sister, and friend, and she's falling hard for Carson Ortiz, a boy who has always looked out for her-even if the old Sam treated him like trash.

But Cassie is still missing, and the facts about what happened to her that night isn't just buried deep inside of Sam's memory-someone else knows, someone who wants to make sure Sam stays quiet. All Sam wants is the truth, and if she can unlock her clouded memories of that fateful night, she can finally move on. But what if not remembering is the only thing keeping Sam alive?



I didn’t recognize the name on the street sign. Nothing about the rural road looked familiar or
friendly. Tall, imposing trees and overgrown weeds choked the front of the dilapidated home.
Windows were boarded up. There was a gaping hole where the front door had been. I shivered,
wanting to be far away from here…wherever here was.
Walking felt harder than it should be, and I stumbled off the chilly asphalt, wincing as
sharp gravel dug into my feet.
My bare feet?
I stopped and looked down. Chipped pink nail polish peeked through the dirt…and blood.
Mud caked the legs of my pants, leaving the hems stiff. It made sense, seeing as how I wasn’t
wearing any shoes, but the blood…I didn’t understand why there was blood staining the knees of
my jeans.
My vision clouded and dulled, as if a gray film had been dropped over my eyes. As I
stared at the weathered asphalt under my feet, large and smooth rocks replaced the tiny stones.
Something dark and oily seeped over the rocks, slipping through the cracks.
Sucking in a sharp gasp, I blinked and the image was gone.
Hands trembling, I raised them. They were also covered with dirt and scratches. My nails
were broken, bloodied. A silver ring wrapped, encased in soil, around my thumb. Air froze in my
chest as my gaze crawled over my arms. The sleeves of my sweater were torn, revealing pale
flesh covered in bruises and gashes. My legs started to shake as I swayed forward. I tried to
remember how this had happened, but my head was empty—a black void where nothing existed.
A car drove by, coasting to a stop a few feet in front of me. Somewhere in the trenches of
my subconscious, I recognized the flashing red and blue lights as a source of safety. Elegantly
scrawled along the black-and-gray side of the cruiser were the words ADAMS COUNTY SHERIFF’S
DEPARTMENT.
Adams County? A flash of familiarity came and went.
The driver’s door opened, and a deputy stepped out. He said something into the radio on
his shoulder before he looked at me.
“Miss?” He started around the cruiser, taking tentative steps. He looked young for a
deputy. Barely out of high school and able to carry a gun seemed wrong somehow. Was I in high
school? I didn’t know. “We’ve received some calls into dispatch concerning you,” he said
gently. “Are you okay?”
I tried to respond, but only a hoarse squeak came out. Clearing my throat, I winced as the
motion scratched and pulled. “I…I don’t know.”
“Okay.” The deputy held up his hands as he approached me, as if I were a skittish deer
about to bolt. “My name is Deputy Rhode. I’m here to help you. Do you know what you’re doing
out here?”
“No.” Knots formed in my belly. I didn’t even know where here was.
His smile strained. “What’s your name?”
My name? Everyone knew their name, but as I stared at the deputy, I couldn’t answer his
question. The knots started twisting more. “I don’t…I don’t know what my name is.”
He blinked, and the smile was completely gone. “You don’t remember anything?”
I tried again, concentrating on the empty space between my ears. That was how it felt.
And I knew that wasn’t good. My eyes started to tear up.
“Miss, it’s okay. We’ll get you taken care of.” He reached out, lightly taking hold of my
arm. “We’ll get this sorted.”
Deputy Rhode led me around the back of his cruiser. I didn’t want to sit behind the
Plexiglas, because I knew that wasn’t good. Only bad people sat behind the glass in police
cruisers. I wanted to object, but before I could say anything, he settled me into the seat and
wrapped a coarse blanket around my shoulders.
Before he locked me in the bad part of the car, he knelt and smiled reassuringly.
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
But I knew he was lying, trying to make me feel better. It didn’t work. How could
everything be okay when I didn’t know my own name?


# 1 NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing. she spends her time reading, working out, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, and hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki.

Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her book Obsidian has been optioned for a major motion picture and her Covenant Series has been optioned for TV.

She also writes adult and New Adult romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.


Author Links: 



Saturday, April 12, 2014

Blog Tour: Lost in Us by Layla Hagen (Excerpt & Giveaway)

http://xpressobooktours.com/2014/01/21/tour-sign-up-lost-in-us-by-layla-hagen/ 
Click on the banner above for the full tour schedule!

Lost in Us (Lost, #1)Lost in Us by Layla Hagen 
Release Date: February 17, 2014
Pagecount: 316
Series: Lost #1
Buy It: Amazon | B&N

Description from Goodreads:
Serena has learned to live with her past, locking her secrets and nightmares deep inside her. But when her boyfriend of six years abruptly leaves her, she’s catapulted back into pain, nursing a broken heart. When indulging in mountains of chocolate doesn’t work, Serena decides the best way to deal with her shattered heart is to indulge in something else. A rebound . . .

The night she swaps her usual Sprite for tequila, she meets James. The encounter is breathtaking.
Electrifying.
And best not repeated.

James is a successful entrepreneur in Silicon Valley. A man who has amassed a fortune by taking risks. A man who has shunned commitment completely, and still does. He’s the exact opposite of Serena. But sometimes opposites attract. Sometimes they give in to burning passion. Sometimes opposites are perfect for each other.

James is everything her damaged soul could want. His kisses are intoxicating, his touch out of this world. He makes her forget. He grants her peace from her pain. But as they grow closer, Serena discovers she isn’t the only one with a past. James carries the scars of a past much darker than hers. One that has left him damaged, hurt, and wary of love. A past that gives him the power to shatter her.

Now James and Serena must find a way to mend one another. Or risk losing each other forever.




"Red suits you," a voice calls behind me. I'm suddenly very grateful for being squeezed in, because my knees seem to have turned to rubber.  But my relief only lasts for a few seconds, because the music starts and everyone around me disperses, moving to the dance floor.
I don't fall. I can't move, either.
When he finally comes into view, my breath is cut short. There is something about seeing his beautiful blue eyes behind a mask that makes every inch of my skin burn.
So it wasn't the tequila last night.
"Dance?" He extends his hand.
"I can't dance." Out of the corner of my eye I see Sophie watching us, crestfallen.
"That makes two of us," he says, though unlike me, he doesn't sound panicked in the slightest. I really can't dance. Especially not waltz. But he doesn't lower his hand, and instead of protesting further, I raise my hand and place it in his. As if in slow motion I see him putting his
other arm around my waist, and pulling me so close to him that I feel his every breath against my skin. This doesn't help the burning sensation. At all.
"You came," he says and his lips curve into last night’s same conceited smile.
"I make a habit of honoring my invitations," I say, surprised by how aggressive I sound. I bite my lip and look away, fixing my gaze on the highest point of the glass arch.
"Did you and your friend arrive home safely last night?"
Small talk. Fantastic.
"If safely includes Jess throwing up twice on the way home, then yes."
"Quite a party girl, your friend," he says appreciatively.
"What makes you think I'm not one?" I regret the question instantly. Thinking that a former math whiz kid isn't the most hardcore party girl at Stanford is not an absurd conclusion to draw. But his answer takes me by complete surprise.
"Having a steady boyfriend usually means you spend your free evenings and weekends… otherwise."
"You asked Dani to spy on me?"
"Of course not," he says with fake affronting. "I just know how to get the info I need from her."
"What happened to old-fashioned questioning?"
"It's old-fashioned," he answers with a smirk. "I like to consider myself modern."
"Make that lazy and sneaky." I finally unhitch my gaze from the ceiling and look him in the eyes again. They are so much darker than a few minutes ago. 
He tightens his grip on my waist. "Fine. Tell me three things about you."
I try to put on my most serious look. "I grew up in London and San Francisco, used to play volleyball in a minor league, and want to work in investment banking." Did he really think I'll make it easy for him?
"Let me rephrase," he smirks. "Tell me three things about you I won't find in your CV. Three dreams."
The next sentence rolls out of my mouth despite my firm resolution to torment him by not really telling him anything about me. Especially not the weird things.
"I want to taste every single recipe in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, get myself kidnapped by elves and locked up in Rivendell, and attend the midnight release of the next book about the wizarding world that I know Rowling will write. If that last thing fails, I want to learn how to fly on a broom, at the very least."
He bursts into a cascade of laughter. But it's not in the slightest mocking or mean. It's warm and heartfelt.
And loud.
"Your turn," I say, in an attempt to stop him, because we are attracting less-than-friendly stares from the couples around us. "Stop laughing like a maniac and tell me three things about yourself. Three fears."
He laughs for a few more seconds before assuming a solemn face.
"I hate snakes and always keep a light on when I sleep. And I suffer from chronic commitment phobia."
His words hit me like a whiplash. Amazing how lighthearted and playful he throws them at me.
"So I've heard," I say, trying—and failing—to keep my voice steady.
"I wanted to make sure you know it from me," he says in a soft voice. Yet for all the softness, it still feels like whiplash.
"That's very considerate of you."
Why do his words have this impact on me? Why do they have any impact at all? I guessed a while ago how things are. I wish we weren't dancing so I could run away. Put as much distance as possible between him and me. My wish is not far from being granted. Though I haven't listened to many waltzes in my life, I'm sure the orchestra is playing the ending tones right now. I try to distance myself from his intoxicating presence, but his grip on me is firmer than ever.
"I saw how you were looking at me in that bar," he whispers with urgency.
Crap, so Jess wasn't exaggerating. I do my best to put on the poker face she mimicked on our way home, then I remember I have a mask on anyway.
"Why did you invite me here?"
"Why did you come?" he asks, and there is a slight uneasiness in his voice.
"Because you invited me," I answer as sardonically as possible.
        "I was curious," he says quietly.



Layla HagenMy name is Layla Hagen and I am a New Adult Contemporary Romance author.

I fell in love with books when I was nine years old, and my love affair with stories continues even now, many years later.

I write romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world.

And I drink coffee. Lots of it, in case the photo didn’t make it obvious enough 

Author Links: 




 

Friday, April 11, 2014

Blog Tour: Guns by J.A. Huss (Excerpt & Giveaway)

http://xpressobooktours.com/2014/01/06/tour-sign-up-guns-the-spencer-book-by-j-a-huss/ 
Click on the banner above for the full tour schedule! 
 
GUNS: The Spencer Book (Rook and Ronin Spinoff)Guns by J.A. Huss 
Release Date: March 31, 2014
Series: Rook and Ronin Spinoff
Buy It: Amazon | B&N

Description from Goodreads:
THIS IS NOT A STANDALONE BOOK. YOU MUST READ ALL THE OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES FIRST.

ALL. OF. THEM.**

Spencer Shrike is a man with a plan. Get in. Get out. Move on. He loves Ron the Bomb, and her safety is the only thing on his mind these days. But life is a tricky bastard, and conning criminals for the better part of ten years brings its own set of problems. Sure, Rook lied her way out of a sticky situation, covering for crimes Ronin, Ford, and Spencer committed, and getting them all off scot-free in the process.

But not everyone is buying Rook’s story, and Spencer is desperate to figure out who’s in town setting them up for a fall.

Veronica the Bombshell Vaughn has put up with Spencer Shrike’s shit for years and where has it gotten her? A big fat nowhere. No ring, no house, no kids, and no promises. In fact, Spencer is worse than ever—completely distant and moody. She’s done sitting at home, pining over a man she can’t have.

But she’s not opposed to fighting for him.

Ron the Bomb fights hard and she fights dirty, so she’s willing to do whatever it takes to get Spencer’s attention.

But now there’s another man in town with his eye on her. He’s got secrets too, but unlike Spencer, Bobby Mansi is more than willing to let Veronica in on them.

The entire Rook and Ronin series comes full circle. Every con, every lie, and every skeleton in the closet is back for one final shot at vengeance and the only way to set it right… is to get out the guns.



VERONICA
Spencer leans into my neck once the moan subsides. “Do I make you hot?”
I try to regain some semblance of control, but I totally fail. So my words betray every empty thought in my head when I whisper, “I’m an insatiable inferno.”
His large hands stroke my calf, then he grabs my foot and pushes it until my knee bends. He does the same thing to my other foot, and then grabs my panties and says, “Lift, please.”
I swallow and lift.
His fingertips drag down my outer thighs this time, then tickle that little dent behind my knees as he hooks the panties over my kneecaps and lets them drop to the ground on top of my feet.
I wait for him to finish what he started and remove the panties from my ankles, but he doesn’t. He leaves them there, a reminder that he just stripped them off me.
God, that makes me wet for some reason.
His hands reach around to my bra clasp, and then before I can even formulate how I might feel about being stripped of my last bit of clothing, my breasts fall free and he licks his lips. He pulls the lacy pink bra down my arms and I slip my hands out before he makes me keep it on. I’m still thinking about the panties around my ankles. Something about that is just so… so… sexual.
I wait.
He waits.
“Now what?” I ask.
“What do you want to do now?” he counters.
I reach down and slip the panties over my feet and then set them on top of the small pile of clothes.
“And now you’re ready,” he whispers.
“What am I ready for?”
He gets up from the grass, grabs my clothes, places them in the office, then drags his airbrush equipment over to the spot where I’m sitting on the grass. “Now, I fuck you with paint.”
Holy shit. He just said that.
I’m so turned on, I’m starting to throb. He walks back over to the cart, tests the flow of paint on a piece of cardboard, and then turns to me. “You will never forget this day, Veronica Vaughn. For the rest of your life, whenever someone asks you what the best day of your life was, this will be in your top three.”
“What about the other two?” I ask.
            “We haven’t made those memories yet, Bomb. But we will.”


JA Huss is the author of the Amazon bestselling Rook and Ronin series, the epic science fiction I Am Just Junco series, and hundreds of kid-friendly science books in subjects such as biology, physics, anatomy and physiology, astronomy, and forensics. She has an undergraduate degree in equine science and a master’s degree in forensic toxicology. She has never taken a creative writing class and she hopes she never will.

Author Links: