Mr. Big by Nana Malone #BookRelease @givemebooksblog @nanamalone

 

 

Title: Mr. Big
Series: A London Billionaire Standalone
Author: Nana Malone
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance
Release Date: October 24, 2017
Blurb
You’ve heard the rumors.
Yes, they’re all true. The women…the bank account…the really big…
Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m just saying, there’s a reason some
call me Mr. Big. But none of it will matter to her. I’ve known her since we
were kids. And she’s just as off limits now as she was then.
She’s my best friend’s little sister and when he asked me to give her the
grand tour, he did not mean of my bedroom.
So Mr. Big has to stay under wraps… One problem, she’s the only woman
I’ve ever truly loved. But with the secret I’m keeping, she’ll never love me
back.
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Author Bio
USA Today bestselling author Nana Malone’s love of all
things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense novel
she “borrowed” from her cousin.
It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a
precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick-butt heroines ever since.
With her overactive imagination constantly channeling her inner Buffy, it was
only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters.
While she waits for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin,
Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit
as brazen and kick-butt as she thinks she is.
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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Tainted Butterfly by Terri Anne Browning #ReleaseBlast @AuthorTERRIANNE @givemebooksblog

 

 

Title: Tainted Butterfly
Series: Tainted Knights #2
Author: Terri Anne Browning
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 24, 2017

 

Blurb
We have a history.From USA Today bestselling author Terri Anne Browning, comes a new ROCKER
series—Tainted Knights.

His childhood was full of darkness and all I have ever wanted was to give him
the light. Now he puts that darkness into his music, and protecting the girl
who has always worshiped him.

But time changes people.

It has changed me.

I’m no longer the little caterpillar he has always called me. I know he needs
me—I need him too.

Now I have to make a choice…

Stay and pretend like he hasn’t eviscerated my heart.

Or let go of him completely.

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Author Bio
Terri Anne Browning is multiple USA TODAY bestselling
author. Being dyslexic, she never thought a career in writing would be
possible, yet she has been on best selling lists multiple times since 2013.
Reese: A Safe Haven Novella was her first Indie published book. The Rocker Who
Holds Me changed the tables and kicked off The Rocker… series featuring the
sinfully delicious members of Demon’s Wings. The Rocker… Series is now
complete with 12 books and the occasional novella. Other books by Terri Anne
include the Angel’s Halo MC Series, as well as The Lucy & Harris Novella
Series, The Vitucci Mafiosos Series, and The Tainted Knights Rocker Series.
Terri Anne lives in Virginia with her husband, their three
demons—err, children–and a hyper Frenchie named Grunt.
Author Links
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FACEBOOK PAGE
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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Missing From Me by Jayne Frost #ReleaseBlitz @givemebooksblog @jaynefrostbooks

 

 

Title: Missing From Me
Series: Sixth Street Bands #3
Author: Jayne Frost
Genre: New Adult
Release Date: October 23, 2017
Blurb
SEAN
Four years ago I made an unforgivable mistake. And Anna was
the price. I thought I’d forget her. Thought I’d move on. But who was I
kidding? No amount of drumming could drown out my love for her.
When I see here again, backstage after one of our shows,
it’s clear: Anna’s mine. She’ll always be mine.
One mistake. Four years of regret. Is there such thing as a
second chance?
ANNA
When Sean Hudson walked out of my life, he shattered me.
Broke me in untold ways. And when I saw him again, I did the only thing I
could: I ran.
Sean is the past. And I can’t survive his brand of hurt ever
again.

 

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Excerpt

 

Chapter One

4 YEARS AGO

Sean

The front door slammed,
shaking the walls in our small apartment. I snuggled closer to Anna’s side and buried my face in her hair.
Logan’s agitated voice
cut through the fog of near sleep.
“Dude, wake up!”
Whatever mess my best
friend had gotten himself into, he’d have to solve it on his own. This was one
of Anna’s rare mornings off, and since we’d had the apartment to ourselves, we’d
stayed up late, listening to the rain and having lazy sex until we’d passed
out.
Smiling at the thought
of a repeat, I grumbled in Logan’s general direction, “Go away. I don’t have
any condoms. Carry your ass to the store like a normal person and leave us
alone.”
His footsteps echoed in
the tiny room, and then he was beside me, his long fingers digging into my
shoulder as he gave me a hard shake. “I’m serious. Get up.”
Not
happening.
A frustrated groan
escaped my lips when Anna twisted in my arms. She propped herself up on
one elbow, wiping the sleep from her
eyes. “What do you need, Lo?”
A
swift kick in the ass.
Rolling onto my back, I
smothered my face with the pillow, hoping he’d get the hint. Of course, he didn’t.
Cursing under his
breath, Logan rooted around under the comforter.
“Hey!” I snarled,
tossing the pillow at him. “Whatever you’re looking for, I don’t have it.”
Running an agitated hand
through his blond hair, Logan glared at me.
“Where’s your remote?”
Anxiety laced his tone when I didn’t answer right away. “For the TV,
douchebag—where’s the remote?”
Anna fumbled around on
the nightstand and then handed him the clunky device. “What’s wrong with the TV
in your room?”
Logan walked to the end
of the bed and took a seat.
Anna sat up,
scowling. “Make it quick.” She slumped against the headboard, glaring at
the back of Logan’s head. “Seriously, Lo, hurry up. I have to pee.”
Logan ignored her, all
his attention focused on the screen as he flipped through the channels. His
shoulders sagged when he reached CNN.
Cable News? Now he had
my attention. The only things Logan ever watched were MTV, VH1, or the Cartoon Network.
I popped up to see what
was so important, but something told me I didn’t want to know. “What’s going
on?”
“Quiet,” Logan
whispered.
Buttoning my lip, I
reluctantly focused on the screen where a stone-faced commentator stood in a
field, fat droplets of rain pelting her microphone.
“…live footage from the scene of the tragic
accident outside of Fredericksburg, Texas this morning where two members of the
super-group Damaged lost their lives in a fiery crash. At this point, we’re
unable to confirm the identities of the deceased. Damaged, arguably the hottest
band in the country, just completed a series of shows in the Southwest and…”
The camera panned out
for a wide-angle shot. Wisps of smoke rose from the wreckage, dissolving into
the gray morning sky.
A gasp from Anna. “Oh my
God.”
She crumbled against me,
her small hand curving around my waist as she buried her face in my chest.
Unable to make sense of what I was seeing, I stroked her hair with numb
fingers.
After a few moments of
stunned silence, Logan jumped to his feet. “What the fuck is she smiling
about?”
Confused, I blinked at
him. “Who?”
“The fucking reporter.”
He pointed at the TV with a shaky hand. “What the hell is she grinning for?”
I shifted my gaze back
to the screen, and sure as shit, the reporter was smiling. Just a slight upturn
of her glossy lips.
I tightened my grip on
my girl. “It’s her job, man. She doesn’t…” Emotion clogged my throat, and I
struggled for breath. For words. “She doesn’t know them.”
But then, neither did we.
Not really. Damaged hailed from Austin, our hometown. And over the last five
years, as their star ascended, our paths had crossed on occasion.
Our band, Caged, was one
of the many groups on Sixth Street that loosely followed the Damaged blueprint.
Since high school, we’d been playing the same bars where Damaged got their
start, hoping a little of their magic would rub off.
The news report abruptly
cut to KVUE, the local ABC affiliate. Terri Gruca, the nighttime anchor, sat
stoically behind the half-lit desk, her co-anchor nowhere in sight.
“Thank you, Sandy.”
Terri blinked into the camera. “We’ve just got word at the studio that Rhenn
Grayson, lead singer for the Grammy winning band Damaged, and Paige Dawson,
lead guitarist, were pronounced dead at the scene of the accident on Highway
290 this morning.” She looked down at the copy wobbling in her shaking hand. “Rhenn’s
wife, singer Tori Grayson, and drummer, Miles Cooper, were airlifted to
Brackenridge Hospital via Care Flight. According to band manager, Taryn Ayers,
Mrs. Grayson and Mr. Cooper are both in
critical condition. The bus driver was also pronounced dead at the crash site.”
Still photos of Rhenn and Paige appeared
on a split screen in the background behind Terri’s head. “Our prayers go out to
the families. After a brief commercial break, we’ll cut to the CNN studio for
further updates on this tragedy and a look back at the lives of these two
gifted musicians.”
My head pounded as a
commercial for toaster strudel flickered across the screen. Smiling faces and
cheery voices, touting the virtue of strawberry jam tucked inside a fluffy
pastry shell. Somewhere, people were probably eating that shit.
But not Rhenn or
Paige.
“They were twenty-four
years old,” Logan murmured.
As he turned to face me,
questions clouded his arctic blue eyes. The same questions I’d seen every day
since the first time we met. About death, and why it visited some while leaving
others alone. Death was what brought Logan and me together, after all. Our
shared bond. Two kids whose mothers would never sit at the long table in Mrs.
Varner’s classroom handing out cookies. Because our mothers had “passed.”
That’s the polite term
people used when someone died. The same folks made sure to tell you they were “sorry
for your loss.”
Which I always found
funny, since my mother wasn’t lost. She was dead.
Rhenn’s voice boomed
from the speaker on the worn-out TV. Smiling his most iconic smile, he stood
back to back with Paige as he crooned the band’s latest hit.
I leaned forward to
drink it all in. Because that’s all that was left now, bits of light and shadow
caught on tape.
Slithering from my loose
hold, Anna stumbled to her feet. “I’ve got to pee.”
Before she got away, I
swung my legs over the side of the bed and then slipped my arms around her
waist to pull her between my knees.
Resting my forehead
against her chest, I breathed deeply, her peach scent soothing me like a balm. “I
love you, Anna-baby.”
She sifted her fingers
through my hair until I stopped shaking, and then kissed the top of my head. “Love
you too.”
Reluctantly, I let her
go, and she retreated into the tiny bathroom. Through the paper-thin walls, I
heard her crying softly.
When she returned, her
face splotchy and her eyes glistening with leftover tears, I gave her a soft
smile and lifted the covers so she could crawl in beside me.
An hour later and we
still hadn’t moved, like if we stayed here, it wouldn’t be real.
But it was.

 

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Author Bio
Jayne
Frost, author of the Sixth Street Bands Romance Series, grew up in California
with a dream of moving to Seattle to become a rock star. When the grunge thing
didn’t work out (she never even made it to the Washington border) Jayne set her
sights on Austin, Texas. After quickly becoming immersed in the Sixth Street
Music scene…and discovering she couldn’t actually sing, Jayne decided to do the
next best thing—write kick ass romances about hot rockstars and the women that
steal their hearts.
Want to
join the tour and become a Jayne Frost VIP?
Sign up for the Sixth Street Heat Newsletter http://eepurl.com/7XX-n
; to receive exclusive members
only content, swag, giveaway opportunities, and all the latest news.
Author Links

 I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

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Riske and Revenge by Natalie E. Wrye #ReleaseBlast @givemebooksblog

 

 

Title: Riske and Revenge
Series: The Revenge Series
Author: Natalie E. Wrye
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 17, 2017

 

Blurb

 

Love is the
strongest emotion in the world…next to hate.
I knew hate. Had known it since I was seventeen.
For me, it was love turned on its head, a product of hurt and fear—twisted,
tied up…and placed on the sculpted shoulders of Ethan Riske.
***
Dayton, Tennessee.
Home to the best cow-tipping in the world, the
biggest hot dogs, and the lousiest sex.
Or so I’d heard…
They were right about the first two. Ethan
Riske proved them wrong about the third and at seventeen, he and I spent a
summer under the stars, squeezing our way out of trouble, sweating and panting
among the haystacks.
Until he left.
Nine years later, when a huge publishing house
tries to buy my small press, I storm into the office of the CEO to find him.
Same cocky grin. Different name.
And suddenly all I can think about is exacting
revenge on Ethan Riske for breaking his contract…and my heart.
But there’s someone who wants revenge even
more than I do. As I begin to fall for the new Ethan, will the sins of the old
one come back to haunt us?

 

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Excerpt
Prologue
“I hope you taste as good as you smell.”
The sound drifted through the air. A slow, sensuous melody
floated with it, and as both made their way through the room, the beat of the
song and the quiet statement I just heard rattled the bourbon in my hand,
making the ice cubes shake.
Or maybe I was the one shaking.
I couldn’t help it.
Griff was poking a hole in my ribs with his elbow, and as
the lips that had just whispered in my ear withdrew, I could see the look on my
“best man’s” face. He was essentially salivating, his tongue practically
swinging as he took in the vision of the woman who was speaking in my ear… and
laying a seductive path in my open lap.
She stood, her long legs stretching, her bare torso twisting
as she rolled the shape of an “S” in the air with her body, swaying seductively
to the music. She was toned… that was obvious. A tight package with tits too
big to be real, the buxom blonde in front of me was the object of every man’s
wet-dream, star of every cock-swinger’s fantasy…
Except mine.
But she was doing her best. Clad in a piece of cloth that
barely covered her clearly cleanly-waxed pussy, she ground her
pretty ass two inches from my face while every other man in the room fought the
urge to put their fingers all over her. My best friend, included. He nudged my
side for the ninetieth time.
“Fuck me, man,” he slurred. “If she was doing that to me,
I’d be two seconds from putting my finger in her ass.” He smirked widely and
wildly.
“Good thing you aren’t me,” I shot back quietly, leaning
over to look into his face. “That’d be a felony, you crazy ass.” I finally
smiled. “And the last time I checked you didn’t fuck strippers because ‘and I
quote… ‘Who knows how many other items have been in those goddamned
holes?'”
I threw Griff’s own words back at him with a silent grin.
“Doesn’t matter,” he declared, staring at the stripper in
front of me for the thousandth time. “For her?” He swallowed another mouthful
of scotch. “I’d make an exception.”
I glared at the beautiful blonde again. Because Griff was
right. The exotic dancer… She might have been one of the best looking I’d ever
seen. Maybe the best. She was tall, long-legged. Gorgeous… in
the porn star sense, of course, with a wide, luscious mouth made for licking
and sucking in only the most erotic of ways.
She licked her lips at me as if she wanted to make good on
the promise she’d just whispered, and I had no doubt when she looked at me, her
brown doe-like eyes wide, that—if she could, she would devour me until nothing
was left. Until she drained every drop.
Unfortunately, for her, I wasn’t interested.
She tried to drag me to my feet, her tiny fingers wrapping
around my own, pulling as she walked backwards in the direction of the edge of
the room. The overhead maroon lights illuminating the space in our black-curtain
closed boudoir made her look as naughty as every word dripping from her
blood-red mouth, and Bambi the Bimbo was putting on her best pout to entice me
into joining her towards whatever dirty fun lay in the dark room beyond this
one.
All of the men—friend and foe—whooped as I slowly dragged
myself to my feet, stumbling and fumbling over the discarded decorations that
littered the floor. Streamers and “Congratulations” ribbons ran the length of
the room, taking up space between the cloth-covered tables, and I staggered
past them, barely holding onto my Bourbon as I followed stolidly behind the
too-excited dancer who nearly bounced on her platform-covered toes.
With the push of another curtain, we fell into another room,
and I let my body flounce on the dark-colored couches beyond it, slumping into
the padded cushions. I took a healthy swig of my drink and sank my fingers into
the seat beneath, wondering how many stains these comfortable sofas had really seen.
The drunker I got, the more it didn’t matter. Ignorance
truly was bliss.
And so was the sensation making its way down my crotch—a
gentle rubbing that circled the length of my cock through the fabric of my suit
pants. From the tip to the very base. I groaned, closing my eyes as I saw a
vision in my mind. A vision too good to be true.
A vision almost ten years old.
Waves of dark hair fell to a waist too tiny to be anything
but touched. Shiny and soft, the beautiful brown mane swept across my chest,
against my shirt, as two eyes, a crystal-clear blue, peeked from beneath the
strands, as round and as large as saucers. In my mind, they met mine, saying
things that couldn’t be vocalized, voicing words that need not be said.
They seduced in the most innocent of ways, waylaying me,
pulling at a possessiveness in me I didn’t know existed. The blue eyes smiled.
The smile beneath them was even better—wicked, as it dipped to my abdomen and
pressed there, making me ache, causing my cock to strain against the
inconvenient zipper located there.
How many times had I imagined those lips doing exactly that?
That tongue licking out beneath those straight white teeth to lap at my skin,
the edge of her mouth nipping at the most sensitive parts of me? It was
torture—letting her tease me, taking me to the brink and back again as she
swept that sheet of auburn locks over my body as she bent to her knees. I
sucked in a breath soaked in desire as I waited for her to place her mouth
where it mattered most.
And then it stopped. The teasing. She stopped.
And before I knew it, she was pulling—no, ripping—at my
pants. The top button popped, and suddenly my cock was between her hands, her
lips. She sank her mouth around it with a sigh, sucking with delight. The
sexiest slurp ever made to man escaped from between her teeth, and I nearly
lost it, grinding my own teeth as I gripped the back of her head, my eyelids
squeezing tight enough to ache.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I muttered. Over and over and over
again.
It was fucking amazing. Something so simple—someone so
simple, sweet and secretly naughty could bring a stubborn fucker like me—CEO
and all—to his Giorgio Armani-covered knees.
I came… with my cock in her mouth and her name on my mind. I
leaned back even further, letting my head fall into the cushions.
“Fuck, Kat…” I mumbled, feeling way too fucked up to move,
the liquor coursing through my veins as I came down from my high, my fingers
reaching out to touch her once more.
But she backed away.
“Kat?” she said, rising to her feet. “Who the fuck is Kat?”
I opened my eyes, staring at the figure fumbling around in
front of me. It was the blonde vixen—the stripper. Standing on shaky legs, she
wobbled between my legs, locking me with a stare, her eyes hard and unblinking.
She placed her hands on her tiny hips.
“Who the hell is Kat?”
As if she was outraged. As if she had any right to question
whatever the fuck I was doing anyway. I ignored her with a shrug, stowing my
dick back in my pants with a loud zip! I finished my drink and
sat it down.
“Ohhhh… I get it,” the blonde blower hissed. “She must be
your fiancé. Well… I guarantee you that she’s never made you come like that.
That was epic, baby,” she sighed, trying to straddle me. Her pussy was peeking
completely out of her barely-there panties this time, and she tried to rub it
across me, sliding her pink slit across the front of my pants with a slow
grind.
I almost pushed her off. I stood.
“There is no fiancee,” I rumbled.
“But I thought…”
“My friends,” I interrupted, “thought it’d be funny to
celebrate my new position. They said it was fitting… seeing as how I’m now
married to my job. This isn’t a real bachelor party. And that
wasn’t a real blow-job…”
She raised an eyebrow. “Certainly felt real
to me.”
I pulled out my wallet, taking out a couple hundred dollar
bills and putting them in the palm of her hand. I folded her fingers around
them, looking into her eyes.
“Can’t be real… Not when you’re thinking about someone else
the entire time.”
I turned just as the fair-haired, breathing blow-up doll
gaped. I pulled the black curtain aside, exiting, attempting to avoid the
curious gaze of every onlooking employee that came to the party to usher me
into my new executive role.
My smile was weak, as I tried to shake off what just
happened to me in the other room… and who I was imagining it happening with. Somehow,
it was the brunette in my head, and not the blonde on my lap, that felt as if
she were still on my skin.
I was in so much fucking trouble.

 

Author Bio
Natalie Wrye is a tequila connoisseur, Game of Thrones
addict and author best known for writing page-turning Contemporary Romance and
Romantic Suspense.A fan of the beautifully polarizing anti-hero, she crafts sexy stories about
hard-bodied, complex men and the strong-willed women who crave them.

She loves it when people get weird with her on Facebook, NatalieWrye.com or Natalie@NatalieWrye.com.

;

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Fiance For The Night by Melissa McClone #ReleaseBlast @melissamcclone @PureTextuality

She needs a fiancé—for only one night.

Cassandra Daniels’ parents refuse to accept that she doesn’t need a boyfriend to be happy. To stop their meddling and matchmaking, Cassandra creates a fictional fiancé, a man who sounds so unlike their carefree and unconventional daughter that her mom and dad want to meet him for dinner, immediately.

No problem. San Francisco is a big city. Finding a fiancé won’t be that hard.

All Troy McKnight wants is a beer after a long day at work. But when a pretty blonde asks him to dinner and wants him to pretend to be her fiancé, Troy agrees to help. Playing make-believe could be fun, especially since he gets a free meal, and he’ll have a great story to tell.

When one lie leads to another, however, the fake engagement spirals into real wedding plans. Cassandra and Troy must stop the madness and put an end to their charade. But what if her fiancé for the night is the perfect husband for life?

** This second edition has been rewritten and updated. 8000 words have also been added. **

 

About the Book

Fiance For The Night
by Melissa McClone

Series
n/a; standalone

Genre
Adult
Contemporary Romance
Sweet/Clean Romance

Publisher
Cardinal Press, LL

Publication Date
October 17, 2017

Other Retailers
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About Melissa McClone

USA Today bestselling author, Melissa McClone has published over forty novels with Harlequin and Tule Publishing Group and been nominated for Romance Writers of America’s RITA® award. With a degree in mechanical engineering from Stanford University, Melissa worked for a major airline where she traveled the globe and met her husband. But analyzing jet engine performance couldn’t compete with her love of writing happily ever afters. Her first full-time writing endeavor was her first sale when she was pregnant with her first child! When she isn’t writing, you can usually find her driving her minivan to/from her children’s swim practices and other activities. Melissa lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three children, two spoiled Norwegian Elkhounds, and cats who think they rule the house. They do!

Melissa’s Links

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl