Girl Breaker by Harper Kincaid

Book Description
Sometimes the best thing a good girl can do is make a bad decision. Jessica has always been the girl with her head in the clouds and her nose in a book, only dating the “nice guys”. But when rough-around-the-edges Viking-biker-god, Mad Max, and his precocious little girl move onto her street, Jessica falls hard and fast for both of them. Max is no stranger to women wanting to share his bed—and he’s always been more than happy to oblige them all. He’s lived wild all his life—that is, until a daughter shows up on his doorstep and he meets a redheaded angel down the block. There’s nothing more he wants than to claim Jessica as his, to bring the gorgeous spitfire to his bed. But a man like him doesn’t get a happy ending with a woman like her. He’s got a whole other life, one he’s kept secret for good reason. If Jessica found out what he really is, there’s no way she could love him. He should keep his hands to himself. But he’s Mad Max—he’s never done the right thing, and he’s not going to start now. Warning: Contains a dominating alpha male who’s a lot more than he seems, and a good girl with a swirl of flavors under her vanilla.  AVAILABLE: January 17, 2017

Break On Through Series

Rule Breaker (Book 1)

Heart Breaker (Book 2)

Girl Breaker (Book 3)

Girl Breaker by Harper Kincaid is the third book in her Break on Through series and the first book I've read of this series.  So it isn't necessary to read these books in any particular order.  

I really enjoyed this book.  It was a quick read with everything you are looking for in a romance: chemistry, fun, dirty-talking sexy times, with a little bit of drama and angst.

Our heroine, Jessica Lockhart, is a sweet, head-in-the-clouds type that dreams of her happily-ever-after with her prince charming.  But when bad-boy biker Max "Mad Max" Reinquist and his sweet, yet precocious daughter move down the street, she can't help but fall for both of them.

Max is used to having woman throw themselves at him.  And in the past he's been all to happy to oblige all of them.  But when a daughter and a feisty redhead come into his life, he begins to realize that his wild actions may put those he has come to care about in danger.  

Max can only sate his need for Jessica for so long, and soon he begins to think that MAYBE he can have a happily-ever-after with Jessica.  But when past actions come back to haunt Max, Max must decide if he can risk it all for love.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

**I received an ARC in exchange for a honest review.**

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Ego Maniac by Vi Keeland

Book Description:

The night I met Drew Jagger, he’d just broken into my new Park Avenue office.
I dialed 9-1-1 before proceeding to attack him with my fancy new Krav Maga skills.
He quickly restrained me, then chuckled, finding my attempted assault amusing.
Of course, my intruder had to be arrogant.

Only, turned out, he wasn’t an intruder at all.
Drew was the rightful occupant of my new office. He’d been on vacation while his posh space was renovated.
Which was how a scammer got away with leasing me office space that wasn’t really available for rent.
I was swindled out of ten grand.

The next day, after hours at the police station, Drew took pity on me and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. In exchange for answering his phones while his secretary was out, he’d let me stay until I found a new place.
I probably should have acted grateful and kept my mouth shut when I overheard the advice he was spewing to his clients. But I couldn’t help giving him a piece of my mind.
I never expected my body to react every time we argued. Especially when that was all we seemed to be able to do.


The two of us were complete opposites. Drew was a bitter, angry, gorgeous-as-all-hell, destroyer of relationships. And my job was to help people save their marriages.
The only thing the two of us had in common was the space we were sharing.
And an attraction that was getting harder to deny by the day.

AVAILABLE: January 16, 2017

EXCERPT

Sometimes what you’re looking for

comes when you’re not looking at all.

-Unknown

DREW

I hate New Year’s Eve.

Two hours in traffic to make it not even the nine miles home from LaGuardia. It was after ten o’clock at night. Why weren’t all these people at a party by now? Whatever tension two weeks in Hawaii had relieved was already back to coiling tighter and tighter inside me as the town car inched its way uptown.

I tried not to think about all the work I was coming back to—the endless string of other people’s problems to compound my own:

She cheated.

He cheated.

Get me full custody of the kids.

She can’t have the house in Vail.

All she wants is my money.

She hasn’t given me a blowjob in three years. Listen, asshole, you’re fifty, bald, pompous, and shaped like an egg. She’s twenty-three, hot, and has tits so young they almost reach up to her chin. You want to fix this marriage? Come home with ten Gs in fresh, crisp bills, and tell her to get on her knees. You’ll get your blowjob. She’ll get her spending money. Let’s not pretend it was ever more than it really was. That doesn’t work for you? Unlike your soon-to-be ex-wife, I’ll take a check. Make that out to Drew M. Jagger, Attorney at Law.

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling slightly claustrophobic in the back of the Uber, and looked out the window. An old lady with a walker passed us.

“I’ll get out here,” I barked at the driver.

“But you have luggage?”

I was already exiting the back of the car. “Pop the trunk. It’s not like we’re moving anyway.”

Traffic was at a dead stop, and it was only two blocks to my building. Tossing a hundred-dollar tip at the driver, I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and took in a deep breath of Manhattan.

I loved this city as much as I hated it.

575 Park Avenue was a restored pre-war on the southeast corner of Sixty-Third Street—it was an address that gave people preconceived notions about you. Someone with my last name had occupied the building since before the place was converted into overpriced co-ops. Which is why my office was allowed to remain on the ground floor when other commercial tenants were tossed out years ago. I also lived on the top floor.

“Welcome back, Mr. Jagger.” The uniformed doorman greeted me as he swung open the lobby door.

“Thanks, Ed. I miss anything while I was gone?”

“Nah. Same old, same old. Peeked in on your construction the other day, though. Looking good.”

“They use the service entrance down Sixty-Third like they were supposed to?”

Ed nodded. “Sure did. Barely heard them the last few days.”

I dropped my luggage inside my apartment, then headed back downstairs in the elevator to check things out. For the last two weeks, while I was screwing off in Honolulu, my office space had been getting a total renovation. Cracks in the high, plastered ceilings were to be patched and painted, and new floors installed to replace the old, worn parquet.

Thick plastic remained taped over all of the interior doorways when I walked in. The little furniture I hadn’t put in storage was also still covered with tarps. Shit. They aren’t done yet. The contractor had assured me there would only be finish work left by the time I returned. I was right to be skeptical.

Flicking on the lights, I was happy to find the lobby completely done, though. Finally, a New Year’s Eve with no horrible surprises for a change.

I took a quick look around, pleased with what I found, and was just about to leave when I noticed a light streaming from under the door of a small file room at the end of the hallway.

Thinking nothing of it, I headed to turn it off.

Now, I’m six foot two and a half, two hundred and five pounds, and maybe it was just my frame of mind, my not expecting to see anyone, but when I opened the door to the file room, finding her there scared the living crap out of me.

She screamed.

I took a step back through the door.

She got up, stood on the chair, and began yelling at me, waving her cell phone in the air.

“I’ll call the police!” Her fingers shook as she dialed nine, then one, and hovered over the last one. “Get out now, and I won’t call!”

I could have lunged for her, and the phone would have been out of her hand before she realized she hadn’t dialed the final digit. But she looked terrified, so I retreated another step and put my hands up in surrender.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I used my best soothing, calm voice. “You don’t need to call the police. This is my office.”

“Do I look stupid to you? You just broke into my office.”

“Your office? I think you took a wrong turn at the corner of Crazy and Nutjob.”

She wobbled atop the chair, holding both arms out to regain her balance, and then…her skirt fell to her feet.

“Get out!” She crouched down and grabbed her skirt, tugging it up to her waist as she turned her back to me.

“Do you take medication, ma’am?”

“Medication? Ma’am? Are you joking?”

“You know what?” I motioned to the phone she was still holding. “Why don’t you push that last one and get the police over here. They can drive you back to whatever loony bin you escaped from.”

Her eyes widened.

For a crazy person—now that I was really looking—she was pretty damn cute. Fiery red hair piled on top of her head seemed to match her firecracker personality. Although from the looks of her blazing blue eyes, I was glad I’d held off on telling her that.

She pushed one and proceeded to report the crime of entering one’s own office. “I’d like to report a robbery.”

“Robbery?” I arched an eyebrow and looked around. A lone folding chair and crappy metal folding table were the only furniture in the entire space. “What exactly am I stealing? Your winning personality?”

She amended her complaint to the police. “A breaking and entering. I’d like to report a breaking and entering at 575 Park Avenue.” She paused and listened. “No, I don’t think he’s armed. But he’s big. Really big. At least six feet. Maybe bigger.”

I smirked. “And strong. Don’t forget to tell them I’m strong, too. Want me to flex for you? And maybe you should tell them I have green eyes. Wouldn’t want the police to confuse me with all the other really big thieves hanging out in my office.”

After she hung up, she stayed standing on the chair, still glaring at me.

“Was there also a mouse?” I asked.

“A mouse?”

“Considering you jumped up on that chair.” I chuckled.

“You find this funny?”

“Oddly, I do. And I have no fucking idea why. It should annoy the crap out of me that I come home from a two-week vacation and find a squatter in my office.”

“Squatter? I’m no squatter. This is my office. I moved in a week ago.”

She bobbled again while standing on her chair.

“Why don’t you get down? You’re going to fall off that thing and get hurt.”

“How do I know you’re not going to hurt me when I get down?”

I shook my head and contained my laugh. “Sweetheart, look at the size of me. Look at the size of you. Standing on that chair isn’t doing jack shit to keep you safe. If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be out cold on the floor already.”

“I take Krav Maga classes twice a week.”

“Twice a week? Really? Thanks for the warning.”

“You don’t have to ridicule me. Maybe I could hurt you. For an intruder, you’re really kind of rude, you know.”

“Get down.”

After a full minute stare-off, she climbed off the chair.

“See? You’re as safe on the ground as you were up there.”

“What do you want from here?”

“You didn’t call the police, did you? You almost had me there for a second.”

“I didn’t. But I can.”

“Now why would you go and do that? So they can arrest you for breaking and entering?”

She pointed down at her makeshift desk. For the first time, I noticed papers all over the place. “I told you. This is my office. I’m working late tonight because the

construction crew was so loud today that I couldn’t get done what I needed to. Why would anyone break and enter to work at ten-thirty at night on New Year’s Eve?”

Construction crew? My construction crew? Something was going on here. “You were here with the construction crew today?”

“Yes.”

I scratched my chin, half believing her. “What’s the foreman’s name?”

“Tommy.”

Shit. She was telling the truth. Well, at least some of it had to be the truth. “You said you moved in a week ago?”

“That’s right.”

“And you rented the space from whom, exactly?”

“John Cougar.”

Both my brows shot up this time. “John Cougar? Did he drop the Mellencamp, by chance?”

“How should I know?”

This wasn’t sounding good. “And you paid this John Cougar?”

“Of course. That’s how renting an office suite works. Two months’ security, first and last month’s rent.”

I shut my eyes and shook my head. “Shit.”

“What?”

“You got conned. How much did all of that cost you? Two months’ security, first and last month? Four months in total?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

“Please tell me you didn’t pay cash.”

Something finally clicked, and the color drained from her pretty face. “He said his bank was closed in the evening, and he couldn’t give me the keys until my check cleared. If I gave him cash, I could move in right away.”

“You paid John Cougar forty thousand dollars in cash?”

“No!”

“Thank God.”

“I paid him ten thousand in cash.”

“I thought you said you paid four months.”

“I did. It was twenty-five hundred a month.”

That did it. Of all the crazy shit I’d heard so far, thinking she could get space on Park Avenue for twenty-five hundred a month took the cake. I broke out in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re not from New York, are you?”

“No. I just moved here from Oklahoma. What does that have to do with anything?”

I took a step closer. “I hate to break the news to you, Oklahoma, but you got ripped off. This is my office. I’ve been here for three years. My father the thirty before that. I was on vacation the last two weeks and had the office remodeled while I was gone. Someone named after a singer scammed you into giving him cash to rent an office he had no right to rent. Doorman’s name is Ed. Walk through the main building entrance, and he’ll verify everything I just said.”

“That can’t be.”

“What do you do that you need office space?”

“I’m a psychologist.”

I held out my hand. “I’m an attorney. Let me see your contract.”

Her face fell. “He hasn’t brought it by yet. He said the landlord was in Brazil on vacation, and I could move in, and he would come back on the first to collect the rent and bring me the contract to sign.”

“You’ve been scammed.”

“But I paid him ten thousand dollars!”

“Which is another thing that should have tipped you off. You couldn’t rent a closet on Park Avenue for twenty-five hundred a month. Didn’t you find it strange that you were getting a place like this for next to nothing?”

“I thought I was getting a deal.”

I shook my head. “You got a deal alright. A raw deal.”

She covered her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

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Full Package by Lauren Blakely Release Blitz, Excerpt, AND GIVEAWAY!!!

Book Description

From the New York Times Bestselling author of MISTER O and BIG ROCK, comes a hot & hilarious new standalone romantic comedy...

I've been told I have quite a gift.

Hey, I don't just mean in my pants. I've got a big brain too, and a huge heart of gold. And I like to use all my gifts to the fullest, the package included. Life is smooth sailing....

Until I find myself stuck between a rock and a sexy roommate, which makes for one very hard...place.

Because scoring an apartment in this city is harder than finding true love. So even if I have to shack up with my buddy's smoking hot and incredibly amazing little sister, a man's got to do what a man's got to do.

I can resist Josie. I'm disciplined, I'm focused, and I keep my hands to myself, even in the mere five-hundred square feet we share. Until the one night she insists on sliding under the covers with me. It'll help her sleep after what happened that day, she says.

Spoiler-neither one of us sleeps.

Did I mention she's also one of my best friends? That she's brilliant, beautiful and a total firecracker? Guess that makes her the full package too.

What's a man stuck in a hard place to do?

You can find this sexy standalone romantic comedy across all retailers!

AVAILABLE: January 9, 2017

I don't have a review of this book (YET!!), but I plan on picking up this bad boy ASAP!!

Enjoy the excerpt of Full Package below!!!

EXCERPT:

I turn into the kitchen. She pulls a tray from the oven and smiles. She still wears the date outfit, but the heels are gone. She’s adorable in her fancy dress and bare feet.

            “Date ended early?”

            She nods. “When he invited me to see his gerbil, I thought it was time to go.”

            “That doesn’t entice you?”

            She shakes her head. “Had he said ferret, perhaps. Alas, with gerbil I’m a firm no.”

            “Was it in his pants or a cage?”

            “We didn’t get far enough to find out. I said thanks, I need to water the plants, and I got the hell out of Dodge.”

            I curl up the side of my mouth. “Guess that explains why Trish didn’t invite me home, either. I tried the hamster line on her.”

            She smacks me with a panda potholder. “I suppose I should have known better, though. Earlier in the date, he made a ton of masturbation comments.”

            I lean against the kitchen counter. “And that concerns you, since you never do that, right?”

            As she slides the spatula under the dessert, she gives me a side-eye stare. “Exactly, Chase. I never rub one out. Never.” She waves a hand over her crotch. “Total hands-free zone.”

            I take her comment seriously. “Fine. You use toys. I get it. What kind?” I ask, because I can’t help myself.

            She rolls her eyes. “Not telling you.”

            I harrumph and grab for a bar from the pan. She swats me with the spatula.

            “Ouch,” I say, yanking back my hand.

            “That didn’t hurt. And you should know better than to steal my dessert before it’s ready.”

            “You should know better than to hit my hands.” I hold both up in the air.

            With a quickness I don’t see coming, she whacks me again with her utensil. This time on the other hand.

            “That’s it.” I charge her, tickling her waist. “Tell me what toys and I’ll stop.”

            She cracks up and flails her arms, knocking me with elbows and hands and the spatula, too, until I give in to her cries for mercy.

            I stare at her in our tiny sliver of a kitchen. “Waiting.”

            “You really want to know?”

            I nod eagerly. I’m playing with fire, but I can’t resist. The desire to know outweighs all else.

            She works the spatula under the bars again, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

            I hold out my hands. “C’mon. We talk about all sorts of stuff.” Then, an idea strikes me. I open the kitchen cupboard, grab a bottle of Patron, and hold it up. “This will help all that shyness.”

            She stares at me with narrowed eyes. “I’m not shy at all.”

            I grab two shot glasses and pour. “Better safe than sorry, Miss Not Shy At All.”

            I hand her one, and she takes it. Then I raise my glass, and the drink goes down the hatch with a burn. She follows suit, swallowing it quickly, then sets her glass down. I do the same.

            I rub my palms together. “Toy confessional time. What have you got?”

            She arches an eyebrow. “Really? You really want to know?”

            I narrow my eyes. “What part of your roommate being a dirty bastard do you not understand? Obviously, I want to know. I’m a guy. This is like Christmas morning. But if this helps . . .”

            I pour two more shots then slide her glass over to her. Once more, we down them.

            She draws a deep breath. “Since you asked . . . I have a few toys. A little silver bullet. A bigger dolphin. And I have a waterproof finger vibrator.”

            And the temperature in me shoots through the roof. I tug at the neck of my shirt. “For the shower?” I croak out.

            “Seeing as we don’t have a bathtub, yes, it would have to be for the shower.”

            “You masturbate in the shower?” I ask, and the visual is so fucking clear in my mind—Josie under a hot stream of water that slopes off her breasts, a finger vibrator working between her thighs.

            She nods as she slides the bars onto a cooling rack. Just then I remember she promised me seven-layer bars when she freaked out the other night. And she delivered. Fuck, I think she might be perfect, what with her desserts and her shower hobby.

GIVEAWAY:

Josie and Chase put together some of their favorite things just for you to celebrate the release of FULL PACKAGE!

The FULL PACKAGE is filled with:

✮       $50 Gift Card to Lush: Fresh Handmade Cosmetics for fruity scented bath products that Chase loves so much.

✮       $50 Gift Card to Sugarfina:  A Luxury Candy Boutique where you can sample some of Josie's favorite gourmet candy.

✮       A lovely Coach Wristlet containing a $50 Amazon Gift Card for you to spend on whatever your heart desires.

✮       And last but not least, my entire Audiobook Collection minus Full Package on Audible.  It is aurally delicious!

http://laurenblakely.com/full-package-giveaway/

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Fight (Velocity #2) by Molly McLain Excerpt

Book Description

The story continues...


I trusted Colton with every bit of myself. I believed him when he promised he’d never hurt me. But he broke me…and now I watch him give another woman everything I thought would be mine.


I never saw this coming.


I don’t blame Taylor for the decisions she’s made, because I know the fault is all mine. I took her for granted. I broke her heart.


But she’s everything to me. If the guy holding her now thinks for one second I’ll lay down without a fight, he’s dead wrong.


Because I’m coming after what’s mine.

AVAILABLE: October 14, 2016

Velocity Series
Fly (Book 1) - Order HERE

Excerpt

“Don’t think this means you’re off the hook. I’m just too exhausted to tell you how I really feel.” Taylor tugs me through her apartment, pausing only to grab a pillow and blanket from the couch. I don’t complain. Not only did she let me in, she’s touching me, too.

“Fair enough,” I say, glancing around. The place is definitely a man cave, with a few of her things scattered throughout. It’s not a bad set up, by any means, but it’s obviously his. And I fucking hate it.

“Where’s your roommate?” Since I’m pretty sure he’s the prick who answered her phone last night, I should probably do a little recon.

“Crap.” Taylor stops short in the hall and drops my hand likes it on fire. “He ran out for a minute.”

I don’t like the pink creeping into her cheeks, but I bite my tongue.

“He’s bringing lunch.” She swallows hard. “For the two of us.”

Yep, it’s official—this guy and I are never going to be friends. I keep my mouth shut, though. I don’t have a leg to stand on and I’m damn lucky she didn’t slam the door in my face. I’m sure as hell not going to give her a reason to wish she had.

“Have you eaten?” she asks quietly, and I nod.

“Grabbed breakfast at O’Hare.”

“Good.” She nibbles on her lower lip, looking everywhere but at me. Why?

“You all right?” I’m not sure I want to know what’s going on in her pretty head, but again…I didn’t come all this way to be an ass. I met my quota on that front months ago. “If you’ve changed your mind…”

“No,” she replies quickly. “No, it’s fine. I just…” Her eyes flash to mine for a second. A second just long enough for me to get the point—she’s hiding something. “I don’t want to be rude. Adam’s been really sweet through all of this.”

Sweet? I just fucking bet. “You told him about me?”

“Yeah, Col.” This time, she’s less uncertain. More determined. “I needed someone to talk to while you were living it up with your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Whatever, Col.”

“Maybe I should meet this guy, then. Thank him for looking after you.”

The color in her cheeks goes as dark as her lips in an instant, and it’s everything I can do not to grunt like a fucking caveman. I’m the guy she’s supposed to open up to. The one who’s supposed to know all of her secrets, not some guy she’s been shacking up for less than a goddamn month.

Suddenly, the door swings open and the smell of food proceeds the bulky dude carrying it in. “Honey, I’m home,” he calls out with a sly grin on his face. A grin that fades the moment he spots me. “Well, shit, Tay, I didn’t know we had company.”

Tay? It’s Tee, motherfucker.

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Not a Hero by Sarah Robinson

Book Description From the bestselling author of the Kavanagh Legends MMA series, Sarah Robinson's Not A Hero is an emotional standalone military romance where love battles trauma, and there can only be one victor. Former Marine, Miles Kydd, is trying to readjust to civilian life after ending his career and returning to his small home town when he learned his father was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Once the town hero and star quarterback, Miles no longer feels like the man he was, or who he's expected to be--possibly because his demons have followed him home from Afghanistan.
Meeting Zoe Brooke, his father's live-in nurse, gives Miles the slightest glimmer of hope that he can still find happiness despite the dark secrets he holds inside. The chemistry between them is undeniable, and together they are explosive--in more ways than one.
A helper at her core, Zoe is more than willing to care for Miles's heart, but not at the expense of her own, and she's not afraid to tell him that. She knows what having a painful past is like, and she wants to help him with his, if he'll let her.
Things get complicated fast when Miles realizes burying his secrets isn't actually the same as healing from them and if he wants the girl, he's going to have to tell her the truth--the one thing he can't do.
This book is suggested for 18+ years of age, contains graphic content, sensitive subject matters, and sexually explicit material.
AVAILABLE: October 4, 2016
Miles Kydd is finally returning home after eight years in the Marines.  He is returning to the only home he has ever known.  Everything is the same, but everything is different.  Miles isn't the same man he was when he joined the military right out of high school.  He has seen and done things that will haunt him forever.  But he is determined to just put it out of his mind and focus on his sick father.  However, Miles doesn't except to meet Zoe Brooke, his father's live-in nurse.  Or that she could give him a glimmer of hope against the darkness inside of him.
Zoe knows all to well that the past can haunt you and be painful.  And she sees that pain in Miles every time she looks in his eyes.  And she is more than willing to be there for him, but not at the expense of her sanity.  
But the closer Miles and Zoe get, the harder and harder it gets for Miles to open up to the one person that has become his calm in the storm.  And if he can't open up to Zoe and share his pain, he is going to lose her for good.
Not A Hero is a beautiful, emotional, sexy, and sweet story about two people learning to deal with past horrors.  Not A Hero made me cry, laugh, and steamed up my kindle at 2 am!! I couldn't put this book down.  And to be honest, it was probably a good thing my husband fell asleep on the couch watching football because otherwise he would of woken up to me crying a few times.  **awkward**
I highly recommend this author and if you haven't read her Kavanagh series, GO READ IT!! =]
Rating: 5 out of 5
**I received an ARC from Netgalley in exchange for a honest review.**
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