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Tuesday, August 30, 2016

It's Release Day!! EL DIABLO by M. Robinson: Excerpt and Review AND Giveaway





EL DIABLO
by M. Robinson
Publication Date: August 30, 2016
Pages: 417
Source: Author for review
Purchase Amazon / Nook / Kobo / I-Tunes


I was ruthless.
I was feared.
I had sacrificed. Myself. Her. Everything...
Living in a world where I was worth more dead than alive was a choice. I was a bad man, never claimed to be anything else. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Seen things that can’t be unseen. I’ve caused pain that I can’t undo.
It was all my choice.
Every decision.
Every order.
Right and wrong never mattered.
Until her.
She was under my protection, until she became my obsession.
But who was going to save her...
From. Me. The devil himself.

Fate brought us together. Destiny destroyed us.
My Thoughts

 "Don't knock in the devil's door, sweetheart, and expect him not to answer." 

 I can't say that I wasn't warned. 

 I was nervous about discovering who Alejandro Martinez really was. El Diablo. I met this character in CRAVE ME, M. Robinson's fourth book of the Good Ol' Boys series. It was difficult to read him in that story because he was so mean and unforgivable. Could I read an entire book about him? Could he be redeemed? It didn't matter - he doesn't need redemption from me, he is who he is. 

 AND YES, I could read about the devil and devour it all!

There were so many wait . . .  what? But how? moments that kept me craving for more. I couldn't stop reading (except when I had to for, you know, real life), and I had this nervous anxiety while reading it. I wanted to know what would happen, but at the same time I didn't because it was torture - the ups and downs and love and hate and heartbreak. I'm a glutton for punishment. 

 I loved how the stories were intertwined and even with so much happening, and the intricate details, it all made sense. 

 I loved Lexi so hard. From the moment she entered the story, she was a spitfire. I wanted to give her the biggest hug and a piece of my heart. I loved her sassy mouth and her refusal to give up on love. 

 Let me tell you now, dear readers, just go ahead and give your tears to this author, because she's going to take them and when you've shed them all, she will demand even more. M. Robinson puts her characters and her readers through the wringer. And we love her for it. It's why I continue to read her stories and want more.

 After finishing this book, you'll want you're friends to read it, so they can feel your pain and the torture of El Diablo too.  They may hate you for it, but they can't say that you didn't warn them.

Disclaimer:  I received this e-ARC from author in exchange for my honest review.  I was not compensated in any way other than the e-ARC provided. I've also purchased a final copy of this title for my personal library. Thoughts and opinions are my own.



Cover Model @DusanSusnjar
Cover Designed by THE FINAL WRAP


“Go stretch again, cariño,” I ordered in a dominant tone. Nodding to the barre.
“I’m fine,” she stubbornly replied. Shaking her legs and arms out. Getting back into position, looking at me through the mirror. I cocked my head to the side, arching an eyebrow. She narrowed her eyes at me, but begrudgingly listened. I pressed play, allowing the melody to once again take over. She placed her leg on the lowest barre, making her ass stick out in my direction.
Tempting me.
She closed her eyes, needing to get lost in the music, wanting to push away all the negative thoughts, already feeling discouraged. I stood, taking off my suit jacket. Rolling up the sleeves of my collared shirt as I stepped onto the hardwood floor. I slowly came up behind her, catching her off guard.
She froze, turning around, opening her eyes. Peering up at me through her lashes. “What are you doing?”
I leaned forward against her ear, grinning. “I’m helping you stretch.” Getting down on my knees in front of her.
Her eyes dilated. The feeling of disappointment replaced with nothing but lust. She placed her arms out to the side, resting up against the barre, supporting her weight. I grabbed her ankle, lifting it up in the air, rubbing along her leg as it was fully stretched, before setting it on the lowest barre. Running my other hand up her side, easing her over toward the extended leg. She understood what I was doing, reaching for her ankle, stretching. Standing back up, bringing her arms above her head, I caressed along her leg again, casually turning her torso so her leg was still placed on the barre behind her.

Her breathing hitched as I touched her all over her lower body. My lips softly kissing the inside of her thigh to where she wanted my mouth the most.






USA Today Bestselling Author of The Good Ol' Boys Standalone Series, The VIP Trilogy, Tempting Bad, and Two Sides.

M. Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has angst, romance, triangles, cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been reading since the Babysitters Club and R.L. Stine. 
She was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She is currently pursuing her Ph.D in psychology, with two years left. 
She is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces. They have two German Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat. 





GIVEAWAY
SIGNED EL DIABLO PAPERBACK
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Monday, August 22, 2016

DARING THE BAD BOY by Monica Murphy - Excerpt and Giveaway

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Tuesday, August 16, 2016

EL DIABLO by M. Robinson: Cover Reveal, Excerpt, and Giveaway

COVER REVEAL

EL DIABLO by
USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR M. ROBINSON
RELEASE DATE: AUGUST 30TH, 2016

 We met him in CRAVE ME, he will destroy us in El Diablo.




I was ruthless.
I was feared.
I had sacrificed. Myself. Her. Everything...

Living in a world where I was worth more dead than alive was a choice. I was a bad man, never claimed to be anything else. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Seen things that can’t be unseen. I’ve caused pain that I can’t undo.
It was all my choice.
Every decision.
Every order.
Right and wrong never mattered.
Until her.

She was under my protection, until she became my obsession.
But who was going to save her...
From. Me. The devil himself.

Fate brought us together. Destiny destroyed us.


Cover Model @DusanSusnjar
Cover Designed by THE FINAL WRAP







I lunged forward, clearing all the contents off the table, to the floor. The sounds of the glass crashing onto the hardwood was mocking me… my heart shattering the exact same way.
It was everywhere and all around me.
I couldn’t run.
I couldn’t escape.
I had no one.
I kept moving because I knew once I stopped I would crash, and possibly never get back up again. I darted around the dining room, my feet stomping with every step, leaving a path of destruction in their wake. Throwing candles, dishware, and chairs. Flipping the table over. I went after anything I could find, demolishing the perfect night.
“I hate you! I hate you!” I yelled, punching the mirror that I caught my reflection in. Not even flinching from the pain. I repeated that mantra over and over, letting it sink into my pores, and making it become a part of me. Destroying everything in my path, the future I would never have.
I pulled my hair back, taking in the destructive scene before me. “Get yourself together,” I rasped, making my way to the bar. Taking four swigs of whiskey from the head, not bothering with a glass, and repeating it several times until the bottle was empty, and I felt nothing but the burn through my body.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed another bottle, wanting to drown myself in the amber liquid. Leaning my whole body against the wall, I started sliding down, wallowing in the despair of what my life had become. I don’t know how long I sat there, drinking my life away when I heard the front door open, footsteps coming my way.
“Sophia?” I slurred.
A part of me hoped that it was somebody that was coming to put me out of my misery.




Amazon / Nook / Kobo / I-Tunes






THE GOOD OL’ BOYS STANDALONE SERIES
FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED





USA Today Bestselling Author of The Good Ol' Boys Standalone Series, The VIP Trilogy, Tempting Bad, and Two Sides.

M. Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has angst, romance, triangles, cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been reading since the Babysitters Club and R.L. Stine. 

She was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She is currently pursuing her Ph.D in psychology, with two years left. 
She is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces. They have two German Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat. 

$10.00 AMAZON GIFT CARD & SIGNED COPY OF CRAVE ME

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Thursday, August 11, 2016

SWEAR ON THIS LIFE by Renee Carlino - Available Now

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9781501105791     



SWEAR ON THIS LIFE
By: Renée Carlino
Publication Date: August 9. 2016
Published by Atria Books
Pages: 320






From USA TODAY bestselling author Renée Carlino (Before We Were Strangers), a warm and witty novel about a struggling writer who must come to grips with her past, present, and future after she discovers that she’s the inspiration for a pseudonymously published bestselling novel. 

 When a bestselling debut novel from mysterious author J. Colby becomes the literary event of the year, Emiline reads it reluctantly. As an adjunct writing instructor at UC San Diego with her own stalled literary career and a bumpy long-term relationship, Emiline isn’t thrilled to celebrate the accomplishments of a young and gifted writer. 

 Yet from the very first page, Emiline is entranced by the story of Emerson and Jackson, two childhood best friends who fall in love and dream of a better life beyond the long dirt road that winds through their impoverished town in rural Ohio. 

 That’s because the novel is patterned on Emiline’s own dark and desperate childhood, which means that “J. Colby” must be Jase: the best friend and first love she hasn’t seen in over a decade. Far from being flattered that he wrote the novel from her perspective, Emiline is furious that he co-opted her painful past and took some dramatic creative liberties with the ending.   

 The only way she can put her mind at ease is to find and confront “J. Colby,” but is she prepared to learn the truth behind the fiction?  

AMAZON | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo | Atria Books

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Excerpt for Swear On This Life

 During the winter we pretended our way through the classics, read every popular kid’s book and by spring of our sixth grade year, the spring of all the rain, we were ready to be outside and explore again. There was a creek about half a mile back from our houses, past the tree line. Because of all the rain that year, it had become more of a river with the strongest currents right behind where we lived. Every adult warned us to be careful, even my dead-beat dad would say, “You better use that big brain of yours and stay out of the creek. You want to go swimming, you can go to the pool in town.” 

 Funny he would say that because the community pool was a seven-mile bike ride and it cost three dollars to get in. There was no way I was going unless Leila, Jax’s mom gave us a ride and even then, I would have to borrow the money to get in. Frankly, going to the town pool was a pipe dream. It became a myth to us, a fantasy like Disneyland or Europe. Jax and I would try to imagine what it was like to go there. 

 “I bet they sell popsicles and popcorn and they probably have clowns too,” I said. 

 It was a warm day; we had made a picnic in the weeds. I laid out my Toy Story sleeping bag I’d had from when I was a kid. Jax brought a jar of applesauce and I brought Fun Dip that my dad had bought me at the 7-11. We mixed the fun dip into the jar and took turns eating spoonfuls.

“Community pools don’t have clowns, genius.”


“How do you know?” I said. 

 “Because I just do.” 

 “I bet there’s a high dive, like fifty feet in the air.” 

 “Do you know how high fifty feet is? You would die hitting the water. The impact would kill you.” 

 “You’re such a know-it-all, Jackson. Why can’t you let a girl dream? We’re never going to that pool because no one will ever take us, plus, it costs money, and last time I checked you weren’t making any.” 

 He lay back on the blanket and propped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “I’m not a know-it-all, I just have cable. And as soon as I turn sixteen, I’m getting a job. I’ll pay for us to go to the pool. You’ll see, it’s just a big hole with water in it.” 

 I never really stared at him until that day. His eyes were closed so I took the time to inspect every inch of him. I was so curious about his body. My own body was changing and I was terrified of it. Jax was getting taller. He was going to be tall like his father, but he looked more like his mother in coloring and features. Jax’s mom was French, so they had this creamy skin that looked sun-kissed year around and his brown hair and brown eyes had streams of gold running throughout it. He was letting his hair grow longer because he’d been watching some show on TV that took place in California. He said everyone in California had long hair.

 I was trying to grow my own unruly, brown locks out. I don’t know why, I always had it in a braid. Maybe because I thought I would go to California with Jax one day. We both yearned for more than weeds and corn. All the books gave us those silly ideas and filled our heads with things that might never be. I lay down beside him and stared directly into the sun. He turned on his side and propped his head on his elbow. 

 “You’ll go blind doing that,” he said in a low voice. 

 “Leave me alone.” 

 “Why are you in such a bad mood? You PMSing?” 

 “What do you know about it?” 

 “A lot.” 

 “I doubt that and even if I were, it’s beyond rude to talk to me about it.” I hadn’t started my period yet but I wasn’t going to tell him that.


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Renee-121



Renée Carlino is a screenwriter and bestselling author of contemporary women's novels and new adult fiction. Her books have been featured in national publications, including USA TODAY, Huffington Post, Latina magazine, and Publisher's Weekly. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two sons, and their sweet dog June. When she's not at the beach with her boys or working on her next project, she likes to spend her time reading, going to concerts, and eating dark chocolate. Learn more at www.reneecarlino.com

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Thursday, August 4, 2016

FURIOUS RUSH by S. C. Stephens - Excerpt and Giveaway


FURIOUS RUSH
by S.C. Stephens
Publication Date: August 23, 2016
Publisher: Forever


The first in an emotion-fueled, New Adult series from the #1 bestselling author of the Thoughtless novels!

Too fast, too furious—and way too hot to handle…

Mackenzie Cox has a lot to prove. Daughter of a racing legend, she is eager to show the world that she has inherited her father's talent in the male-dominated sport of professional motorcycle racing. The last thing Kenzie needs is to be antagonized by her rival team's newest rider, Hayden Hayes. Plucked from the world of illegal street racing, Hayden immediately gets under Kenzie's skin. His insinuations that Kenzie is a spoiled princess who was handed her career fuels her desire to win, and much to her surprise, Kenzie soon learns she performs better when she's racing against Hayden.

As Kenzie and Hayden push each other on the track, the electric energy between them off the track shifts into an intense—and strictly forbidden—attraction. The only rule between their two ultra-competitive teams is zero contact. Kenzie always does her best to play by the rules, but when her team slips into a financial crisis, she has no choice but to turn to Hayden for help. The tension simmers during their secret, late-night rendezvous, but Kenzie has too much to lose to give in to her desires. Especially when she begins to doubt that Hayden has completely left his street life behind...


PREORDER THE BOOK HERE



ABOUT THE AUTHOR

S. C. Stephens is a #1 bestselling author who spends her every free moment creating stories that are packed with emotion and heavy on romance. In addition to writing, she enjoys spending lazy afternoons in the sun reading, listening to music, watching movies, and spending time with her friends and family. She and her two children reside in the Pacific Northwest.




YOU’RE INVITED!

It's a virtual-party!!! Please join S.C. Stephens (and some pretty awesome authors) on Facebook for a pre-release celebration of Furious Rush on August 22nd! There will be prizes! There will be fun!



FOLLOW FOREVER ONLINE



Read an Excerpt

Honda Boy was holding his helmet under an arm while he flirted with the girls surrounding him. He was blond, with a short, shaggy hairstyle that probably took a lot more effort to create than it looked like. I could tell from the way the girls around him were tittering like teenagers that he was charming; with seemingly little effort on his part, he had all of them eating out of his hand. When a break in the crowd gave me a clear view of his face, I realized another thing: He was smokin’, someone-hold-on-to-my-ovaries- before-they-explode hot.
There was a perfect symmetry to his rugged features that made it seem unreal that he was standing just a few feet away from me. He should be plastered on a billboard somewhere, half-naked, selling overpriced cologne to men who wanted just a fraction of his sex appeal. As if he could feel my eyes on him, he turned his gaze my way. Our eyes met and locked, and I was helpless to turn away. There was something carnal about him, primal and dangerous. Exotic. I was instantly captivated, and I hated that I was. This guy was neck-deep in a world that twisted my stomach, a world that spat in the face of my sport. My career.
As his light-colored eyes bored holes into mine, one edge of his lip curved up in a devilish crooked grin that was both playful and promising. He was practically shouting, with just that one deadly smile, that he would satisfy my every desire, satiate every craving I could possibly have. My heart started thudding in my chest as sensations that had been dormant for far too long swirled to life in- side me. Luckily for me, the big man taking the guy’s bets clapped him on the shoulder, breaking our stare down. Once I was free of his steamy gaze, I instantly turned around so my back was to him.  Jesus, was I breathing harder? Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. I was twenty-two, not twelve.
“Damn,” I heard Nikki say. “You were right. I should have bet on him from the get-go. I didn’t really get a good look at him before, but he is freaking hot!”
Inhaling a deep breath, I attempted to force my body back in line with my brain. “This guy is undefeated?” I asked Nikki. “Really?” She nodded in answer and I had to close my eyes for a second. A face like that with racing skills to boot? Jesus.
Clearing my throat, I nonchalantly asked, “What did you say his name was again?” I could at least label the guy in the fantasy I was surely going to have later.
“Hayden... something. He’s been around for a while, from what I gathered.”
I risked a glance over my shoulder at... Hayden. He’d slipped his helmet on, thankfully, although his visor was popped up. The big guy taking bets had been joined by a skinny Hispanic guy who seemed to be giving Hayden instructions. Or maybe a pep talk. The little guy was acting out the race that was about to happen with his hands, complete with swerving and explosions. God, I hoped there weren’t going to be explosions. While he was going through his dramatic highlights, the big guy looped a camera over Hayden’s helmet.
When the two competitors were ready, they backed their motor- cycles onto the street. A cheer ripped up and down the sidewalk as the hopeful gamblers prepared for another round of racing. I didn’t want to feel anything but contempt for what I was witnessing, yet the energy of the spectators, the roar of the bikes—I couldn’t help the zing of excitement that raced up my spine. Against my will, my mouth twisted into a wide grin, and a yell of encouragement left my lips. Hayden’s helmet swiveled my way as he revved his engine. My pulse quickened as our eyes met. Then he winked at me and slammed his visor shut.
As the riders moved into position, Nikki grabbed my arm. “Come on. We can watch the action from the van.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. Before I could ask her, though, she yanked me toward a black van parked on the sidewalk. The back doors were open, and a giant monitor attached to a swinging metal arm was sticking out above the hovering crowd. The screen was split in two, each half showing the footage from one racer’s helmet cam. Hayden and his opponent were both looking straight ahead, and the dual feeds showed similar stretches of barren road. Looking down the street, I saw that the pair were stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.
Returning my eyes to the monitor, I found myself holding my breath as I waited for the signal to change colors. When it turned green and the bikes surged forward, I stepped closer to the van, like that would somehow release my pent-up energy. In unison, the crowd around me started hooting and hollering. Swept up in the moment, I bounced on my toes and prayed for speed. But after watching the screen for just a few seconds, I was struck with the harsh reality of the situation I was watching. This was no closed-off track with well-defined paths. This was down and dirty, anything goes, just get to the finish line first racing.
The bikes blew through red lights like they meant absolutely nothing. The streets were fairly empty at this early hour, but they blurred past the few vehicles on the road like they were standing still; they had to be going 100 miles per hour, easy. They dodged obstacles by hopping onto the sidewalk, they fishtailed around slick corners, and they came close to colliding with oncoming traffic more than once.
I turned to Nikki with shock clear on my face. “This is insane! Someone’s going to get hurt. Maybe killed!”
Nikki’s face was pure elation as she watched the screens. Her expression changed as my words sunk in, then she looked at me like I had a foot sticking out of my head. I supposed it was odd to hear that type of statement coming from someone who routinely hovered around the 150 mark on the speedometer while riding, but that was a completely different kind of environment. Believe it or not, what I did was safe, relatively speaking. Millions of dollars were spent to make it that way. This was not safe. At all.
“They’re breaking every traffic law there is,” I added, feeling like a giant stick in the mud. Someone needed to be the voice of reason here, though, because everyone was clearly out of their ever loving minds.
Nikki smirked at my comment. “It’s a race, Kenzie. They can’t exactly drive cautiously. Why do you think this happens so late at night?”
“Because it’s illegal,” I deadpanned. I got a couple of odd looks from the crowd after saying that, including a particularly nasty glare from Hayden’s bet collector. Maybe this wasn’t the best place to be talking about the law. Shutting my mouth, I quickly refocused on the screen.
Just as I noticed a familiar section of street come into view on the monitor, one side of the screen started wobbling, then the camera showed asphalt, sparks, spinning scenery, and a rapidly approaching telephone pole. The crowd around me hushed as it became clear that Hayden’s competition wasn’t going to finish this race. I heard Hayden’s bike rounding the corner seconds later, then Nikki was once again pulling me along like a rag doll. She shoved us into a good position to see the finish line right as Hayden’s Honda whizzed past. He was alone. Cheers erupted mixed with a few groans from the people who’d bet on the other guy.
Just as I was wondering if anyone was going to go check on the Ninja rider, Nikki grabbed my shoulders and started shaking me with uncontainable joy. “We won, Kenzie! We frickin’ won!”
“Great,” I said, clenching my teeth so I wouldn’t bite my tongue.
Releasing me, Nikki let out a squeal of excitement. “I just made enough money to pay you back and cover my loss. See, aren’t you glad you came?”
I narrowed my eyes into poisonous daggers that would hopefully drill some sense into her. “I hate you,” I murmured.  Nikki held a hand over her heart. “I know by hate you mean love, and I love you too, Kenzie. Now let’s collect my winnings and go home so you can rest up. Big year this year!”
I opened my mouth to scold her with some biting remark about how I’d wanted to leave ages ago, but she turned on her heel and left me there, gaping. Just as I was forcing the muscles in my jaw to relax enough to contract, Hayden pulled up next to where I was standing on the sidewalk. It felt like the world suddenly shifted into slow motion as I turned my head to look at him.
He was still hunched over his bike, hands on the grip and throttle; the only indication that he was looking at me was the direction of his dark helmet. Then, like some freaking Prince Charming in a fairy tale, he slowly removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm. I swear the air around me condensed as his tilted smile came into view. Jesus Christ, this guy was sex on a stick.
Reaching up, he roughly ran a hand through his sweaty dirty- blond hair. The short, sexy shag he’d had going on earlier was destroyed from the helmet, but somehow after just a few scruffs of his hand, the carefree style was back to utter perfection. I kind of wanted to mess it up again, run my hands through the strands, grab a handful and clench it tight while I outlined those incredibly kissable lips with my tongue.
Whoa. No. I didn’t want that.
His penetrating gaze studied my face for a moment. There was something there in his eyes that I couldn’t quite grasp. Interest, sure, but almost... sadness too. Then he smiled, and the look vanished so fast, I was sure I’d imagined it. “Haven’t seen you here before,” he said, his voice low and easy, like he hadn’t just risked his life. “I hope you bet on me. It would be a shame to see someone as beautiful as you... lose.”
His grin turned suggestive, and warning signs started flashing in front of my eyes. Danger! Do not proceed! Rocky road ahead! Turn back now! The warnings flared even brighter when he stood from his motorcycle and began approaching me.
When he was directly in front of me, so close that I could smell the subtle spicy aroma of his cologne, my heart was hammering so hard, I was positive he could hear it, positive he could see my T-shirt lifting and releasing like a frantic hummingbird was hiding under the fabric. What the hell was he doing to me? Was I nervous or excited? Because the sensation was so similar to both, I honestly couldn’t tell.
Extending a hand, he smoothly said, “Name’s Hayden. Hayden Hayes.” I was just about to lift my hand and touch him—my fingers even twitched in response—when he added, “And what should I call you, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? With those two simple syllables he had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head and killed any fantasy I might have had about him. I lived, worked, and breathed in a world where men looked at me like I was a second-class citizen. To prove my worth, I had to work harder, longer, and with everything I had inside me, all the fucking time. I felt like he’d just tried to take all of that hard work away from me with that one demeaning word.
“Leaving,” I said, walking away.
 
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