Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: HIGHLAND DRAGON MASTER by Isabel Cooper


HIGHLAND DRAGON MASTER (Dawn of the Highland Dragon, Book 3) by Isabel Cooper

Publication Date: March 6, 2018

Genre: Paranormal Romance


582EAE0F-FC41-4248-8852-37A715CF0779Legend claims
When Scotland fell to English rule
The Highland dragons took a vow:
Freedom at any price.

The war for Scottish independence rages on, but it’s only a matter of time before England is victorious. Exhausted and battle-weary, Highland dragon Erik MacAlasdair will face unknown seas to seek the Templar stronghold and claim a power so great it could free his beloved homeland forever.

If only that kind of power didn’t come with such a terrible price.

Daughter of a mortal woman and an ancient dragon, Toinette has never forgotten the proud Scot who once stole her young heart—she’ll gladly fight at his side. But when dark forces leave them stranded on a cursed island, it will take everything they have to defy their fate…and trust the passion that burns within the heart of every dragon.



It had been decades since Toinette had fought with another dragon-blooded. She’d forgotten how appealing it was: as heady and easy to lose herself as in any life-or-death battle, but without the risk of death for her men, and with no need at all to hold back. When Erik staggered from her kick to the knee, she grinned.

Toinette didn’t stop when he recovered himself and used his angle to land an excellent upward punch to her stomach. Though the blow knocked the breath out of her, there was a satisfaction in the impact—even in the pain. This was real. This was solid. She could feel it, with nothing ephemeral or confusing, and she could hit back.

She did. A fist to the jaw left Erik shaking his head. Toinette tried to follow up by sweeping a foot at his ankles, but he pivoted away, stepping nimbly over a fallen branch, and then used the momentum to come back at her with a boot to the thigh.

Ow. Damn.

That one might bruise. She almost laughed aloud. Then she darted back into the fray, throwing an uppercut that landed on Erik’s shoulder.

Before she could pull back, though, he grabbed her wrist, then turned his body with a fluid strength that Toinette admired even as it pulled her weight off-center. Mortal bones might have broken; hers held, but she went flying over Erik’s head to land in a patch of grass, tucking her head just in time to miss a tree trunk.

Erik followed up swiftly. Before Toinette could get to her feet, he was kneeling above her, one broad hand holding down each of her shoulders. He was smiling too. One lip was bloody from her fist, but that only made him look wilder—and more handsome. “One fall for you,” he growled. “Surrender?”

“Piss off,” said Toinette, and whipped her head upward toward his nose.

Erik dodged just in time, but the effort of doing so shifted his weight. Toinette shoved him off and backward; twigs snapped beneath his body. She rolled up to her feet, shifted to fighting stance, and waited.

As she’d thought he might, Erik charged her, shoulder first. If he’d taken Toinette square on, he might have won then—he weighed more, in human form, and was at least somewhat stronger—but she sidestepped neatly, grabbed the hair at the back of his head, and yanked. At the same time, she slammed her lower leg into the backs of his knees. The combination took him over backward.

It was her turn to pin him, and she didn’t bugger about with hands on shoulders. She dropped to her knees on Erik’s chest, sending the air out of him for a change. “Second,” she hissed, “goes to me.”

“Pulling hair,” he said, gasping to get his breath back. “Typical woman. Scratch my face next?”

“If I was truly being womanly, you’d have had a knee in your stones by now.”

“Aye,” he said, and smiled again. “You’ve aged past that, have you not?”

“No,” said Toinette. Looking down into his eyes, feeling the muscles in his chest straining under her palms, smelling his clean masculine sweat, she knew why she hadn’t gone near his groin. It would have been her second target in any other fight—second only because men were quick to defend that location, unless she distracted them with pain elsewhere first—but she’d wanted Erik uninjured in that regard.
She lunged forward. He raised his head at the same moment, and their mouths met with heat and force. All the vital energy of their fight changed in an instant, finding different channels, but the transformation was incomplete. Still they struggled against each other, warring for control with lips and tongues.

Toinette stretched herself out atop the hard length of Erik’s tall body. Her breasts flattened against his chest with exquisite friction. The pressure bordered on pain; she welcomed the bright heat of that edge, the clarity of the sensation. A knee on either side of Erik’s hips held her stable and let her feel his cock hardening between them, tenting the cloth of his hose and pushing against her mound.

Clothing was a very stupid idea.

She would have done something about it, but that would have meant releasing Erik, and she didn’t trust him not to take advantage of that. As she’d shifted position, he’d snaked a hand up and around her neck, his fingers long, forceful, and nearer her jugular than Toinette would have permitted from anyone else, particularly anyone whose nails could become claws with a thought.

With Erik, the contact sent tendrils of humming desire down through her body, hardening her nipples and spiraling inward to her sex. She made no move to shake his hand away. When he pressed her head down, crushing her mouth against his, the hint of pain only went well with the pleasure, a sharp wine with a rich meal.

Yet she had no wish to surrender. The fight was half the fun.

Toinette dug her fingers into Erik’s shoulders, hard enough for him to feel the nails even through his shirt. At the same time, she pulled back: not enough to stop kissing him—she didn’t want to do that—but far enough to bite his lower lip. She did no damage, but she wasn’t entirely gentle either.

The sound he made was as close to a growl as human lungs could manage. Erik’s hips flexed upward, hard and sudden and involuntary, driving his erection between his stomach and Toinette’s. As the heat in her own sex spread outward, she wondered if she could drive him over the edge still clothed. The thought made her pulse with arousal—and, at the same time, chuckle low in her throat.

Erik was the one to pull back this time. “Oh no, lass,” he said hoarsely. Sweat was beginning to glisten at his temples, darkening his golden hair, and his eyes were almost all pupil, but he had enough confidence to smile up at her again. “You’re not winning this one.”

Then, with a quick twist of his arms, he rolled them both over.


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About the Author

During the day, ISABEL COOPER maintains her guise as a mild-mannered project manager in legal publishing. In her spare time, she enjoys video games, ballroom dancing, various geeky hobbies, and figuring out what wine goes best with leftover egg rolls. Cooper lives with two thriving houseplants in Boston, Massachusetts.


Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: PERFECT GRAVITY by Vivien Jackson


PERFECT GRAVITY (Wanted and Wired, #2) by Vivien Jackson

Publication Date: November 7, 2017

Genre: Science Fiction Romance


20089C0A-E126-4FB5-91D7-CAB2FDBC42A6Second in a snarky, sexy sci-fi romance series with the perfect balance of humor, heart, and heat.

Kellen Hockley usually keeps quiet about his past, but once upon a time he loved a girl named Angela. He hasn’t seen her in a decade, but now he has to break the news to her that his team of rogue treasure hunters accidentally killed her husband. He’s had better days…

It’s not the news that’s delivered to Angela Neko that breaks her apart—it’s the rumbly, Texas drawl delivering it. She can’t believe she’s hearing Kellen’s voice again. But there’s no time for distractions. When Angela’s own life is threatened, yielding up all of her lies and secrets, she and Kellen must figure out how to reverse the geopolitical firestorm she lit to save the world, to save Kellen’s cat…and just maybe to save each other.




Angela pressed the emergency stop, and their carriage paused. It was glass on the rear, but this far up, there wasn’t anything to see other than a painted elevator shaft. They were alone.
And she stood right in front of him, burning a look upward. Holy fuck, that look.
“What you—”
She put two hands on his chest and pushed him against the elevator wall.
He was stunned for the first half second, surprised enough that she got the jump on him, but he couldn’t let her win. Not without giving a little of his own back.
She was a little thing—he had forgotten how slight—and when his arms went around her and he cradled her ass, it was the easiest thing to lift her. Her legs came up, wrapping around his waist. Something in her tidy wool skirt tore, and she oomphed a breath against his teeth when he turned their bodies, still locked together, and pushed her back up against the elevator wall.
Better. The angle. She slotted snug against him, mouth to mouth, heartbeat to wild heartbeat. Her hands clamped the back of his head, crushing him into her kiss. Oh yeah, this was the Angela he knew, the girl only he knew. And he had missed this—had missed her—so fucking much.
Her teeth skidded against his, sharp and bright. He nibbled, drawing salt from her lip, and she groaned into his mouth. That count for consent? He thought it might, or maybe the fact that she’d all but attacked him in an elevator. Still, the gentleman in him needed to be sure.
“We gonna do this right here, then?” he rasped.
“At least once,” she breathed against his jaw. “Please tell me those jeans aren’t held together with a goddamn button fly.”
“Press seam,” he said.
“Thank all the made-up gods.” Her magic fingers found the seam and undid it, but the movement stole some of her concentration. Angela, the great multitasker, apparently couldn’t undress a man and pour kisses down his throat at the same time.
Kellen reared his head back and watched her.
Wild thing, his gal. He remembered so many times they’d been at this business, and always, always, it had been the death of him. A thousand deaths, a million surrenders. He’d never minded. He’d have given her anything, willingly, as often as she wanted.
But the man she was taking down that road right now wasn’t her nineteen-year-old toy. And he didn’t have a hankering to play the role for her again. He’d fought to become his own person. And that person couldn’t do this.
“Think we might pause here for a second, princess?”
She’d made quick work of his pants, and she had him out, clasped in her hot little fist. He couldn’t even process what that felt like. Heaven was too small a word.
“Angela.” Didn’t sound like his own voice, but he had things that needed saying.
She looked up, neither moving nor removing her hand. His arms were holding her up against the wall, and he couldn’t very well shift weight without dropping her unceremoniously on the floor. There was no way to make space between them, not at this point. Heat roiled in the interstice between their bodies. She never had liked the feel of knickers on her nethers.
“What?” Confusion broke through the naked desire on her face.
“That emergency call button only pauses us for three minutes,” he said, trying so hard to be gentle about this.
Her grin got sly instead. “You clearly have no idea how ready I am.” She squeezed, and his throat compressed in synch. “Why are we wasting all this time chitchatting?”
“Maybe what we need, actually, is a bit more chitchat. And a bit less fucking.” He shifted his weight, lowering her slightly, like he was about to disconnect them. She flicked the pad of her thumb over the head of his cock, and he damn near came on her hand. Shitfuckgoddamn. But he inhaled, slammed his eyes shut, and worked the hell through it. Took a few seconds, but he got steady.
Disbelief froze her mouth into an O, then she snapped, “Impossible to do less of a thing you aren’t doing. Or not yet doing. Who are you, and what have you done with my Kellen?”
“That’s kind of what I’ve been telling you, sweetheart. I ain’t that guy.” You sent him away, or did you forget? “You want my dick in your drawers and my mouth on your sweet spot, princess, I will require some wooing.”
“I distinctly heard you tell all those people at the table—the people you call family—that you were taking me to bed.” She stroked. Jesus. “I believe this is what you would call lying like a rug.”
“I said I was takin’ you to your bedroom.” Temptation shaved pieces off his will.
“That’s exactly what you said, and your intentions could not have been clearer.”
“Well, but after that, Yoink and your husband decided to come along to watch. Gotta say that damped my want-to some.”
She huffed a breath against his throat. “Look. I kicked them out into the corridor. Pressed the emergency stop. Problem solved.”
“It ain’t that easy.”
“Yes, it is.”
I ain’t that easy.”
She tested her tongue against her upper lip then drew it back inside. “Are you saying you don’t want me?”
No, you insufferable woman. I will want you as long as there’s breath in this body, blood in these veins. And then I will love you longer still. “I’m saying we need to slow this down.”



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About the Author

VIVIEN JACKSON is still waiting for her Hogwarts letter. In the meantime, she writes, mostly fantastical or futuristic or kissing-related stories. When she isn’t writing, she’s performing a sacred duty nurturing the next generation of Whovian Browncoat Sindarin Jedi gamers, and their little dogs too. With her similarly geeky partner, she lives in Austin, Texas and watches a lot of football.

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Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: HIGHLAND DRAGON REBEL by Isabel Cooper


HIGHLAND DRAGON REBEL (Dawn of the Highland Dragon, Book 2) by Isabel Cooper

Publication Date: November 7, 2017

Genre: Paranormal Romance


7493EE03-9B62-4374-9E7E-7DA5DFD79361By wing, by claw
By fire, by death
So long as dragons rule the skies, Scotland will forever be free.

After a long and bloody war, Scotland has finally won its independence. But Highland dragon Moiread MacAlasdair knows peace balances on the edge of a blade, and she will do anything to keep her homeland from falling to English control.

Even if that means escorting a powerful new ally into the otherworld itself…and defending him with her life.

Madoc of Avandos is on a critical mission to cement alliances against the British. Powerful men would kill to see him fail—but as he and his fiercely beautiful warrior fight their way through hostile lands, Madoc is faced with a difficult choice: sacrifice everything for the cause…or let himself burn for the love of a dragon.



“You’ll only have to do this the first time,” Moiread said. She sat tailor-fashion on a flattish stone. The brook at her side rushed loudly, swollen with the spring rains. “After, it’ll just be a matter of saying the words. It’s a compact you’re making, like most spells, though I’ve not heard of anything coming in person to agree. Too minor.”
“It’s rare that they do,” Madoc agreed, “or at least rare that they show themselves for it.”
Magic, or most magic, was a matter of talking directly to the forces of the world: the spirits of those forces in the oldest tales, the demons or angels governing their spheres in more modern lore. All spells invoked, most indirectly. Madoc had never been present for an actual summoning. When he was thinking sensibly, he was glad of that. Everything he’d learned said that even the holy ones would frighten the bravest man.
“Good,” said Moiread, evidently sharing his thoughts. “Here.”
She held out a twig of yew, dark needles and bright-red berries attached. In the last village they’d passed through, Moiread had taken them by a churchyard and stopped long enough to break the twig off the tree, which, as in many villages, grew by the gate.
“Now,” she went on, when Madoc had taken the twig, “hold it up and repeat after me.”
Slowly Moiread began, in Latin as good as any priest’s. “In the names of Gabriel, Amariel, Nargeron, and Almighty God, I call upon you, O powers of the worlds. I invoke you, and by invoking, I command you to grant me sight of the union of the spheres. Part the veil that blinds mortal eyes and give me to see the subtle workings of the world, now and whensoever I should invoke it again.”
As Madoc followed her lead, he felt power gathering. It wasn’t much—as Moiread had said, this was a minor spell—but the earth and the air both shifted, as if he could feel them being drawn slightly toward the yew twig. The twig itself began to feel both heavier and less present. Madoc was half worried that his fingers would go through it. In the sun at midday, it was hard to see, but he also thought it glowed. Moiread nodded. “Now crush the berries. Close your eyes, and smear them on your lids.”
The sliminess Madoc had expected lasted barely a moment. Then it turned to a cool tingling across his closed eyelids and, in another heartbeat, vanished. His skin felt untouched.
“And open.”
Madoc did, and caught his breath. He was no stranger to magic, but never had he been able to see the whole world through such entirely different eyes.
A faint haze hung above the grass and trees, a paler shadow of their natural green. The rocks and road looked normal, though their colors were deeper than they had been a moment ago. Madoc looked to the horses, peacefully cropping new grass a few feet away, and saw that each of them glowed a shade of brown: the steady darkness of wheat bread for Moiread’s horse and a slightly lighter color for Rhuddem.
Madoc raised a hand in front of his face. His fingers shone red, shot through with streaks of silver. He flexed them, and the colors shifted accordingly.
“By God,” he said. “This is truly a lovely art you’ve shown me.”
“Useful, at times. But aye,” Moiread said admittedly, “rather beautiful too, in its way.”
She was beautiful. The spell stripped her of her illusion. Her hair lengthened slightly, her figure swelled and narrowed, and her face became a shade more delicate, so that a young-looking woman in men’s clothing sat facing him. In the world of the spell, a pattern of dancing lights played across her body, like diamonds set onto the crisp blue that washed over her skin.
In this world, her shadow was nothing remotely human. Two vast wings stretched out behind her, the brook running through their shade. When she tilted her head to watch him, the shape of an immense head, on a serpentine neck, separated itself from the larger shadow and turned toward Madoc. The same pattern of lights glittered in the shadow.
Mayhap it would have been sensible for Madoc to fear her then, but he wished only that he had more time to sit and watch her.
“A bit revealing, aye?” Moiread asked, clearly aware of where he was looking. To his relief, she sounded amused. “That is why we don’t generally teach the spell. We didn’t come up with it, but we’ve enough luck that not many know it.”
“Do you care so greatly for concealment?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s no great peril, in my view of things, to be found out. There are already those who know what we are and speak of it with varying degrees of truth. Once more knew, or we were more willing to admit it, or both.”
“What happened?”
“To us? Time and duty. The world gets fuller. A clan turns from hunting to farming, and it’s no’ such great use for its laird to spend his days flying in dragon shape. Less use still in court, and we must go there to be part of the greater world, to lead a clan rather than a tribe in a cave. Our sires have other duties, and we as well. Our foes have magic of their own. Dragon shape is no sure victory.”
“I have heard that,” said Madoc, “and seen a little too. Only ran into one sorcerer myself.”
“We’ve not fought them often, no’ directly. The English magic turns more toward enchanted weapons”—she rubbed her calf, wincing in memory—“ or strengthening castles. Crafty spells.”
“Like the one I’m doing?” Madoc asked, speaking the words that courtesy would have Moiread avoid.
“No shame in taking a weapon from your foe,” said Moiread. “We may have fought the people we learned this from”—she gestured around her, indicating the world revealed—“ or we may fight them in the years to come. I’m still glad to have it.”
“So am I.”


Buy Links

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Amazon Series Link




a Rafflecopter giveaway



About the Author

During the day, ISABEL COOPER maintains her guise as a mild-mannered project manager in legal publishing. In her spare time, she enjoys video games, ballroom dancing, various geeky hobbies, and figuring out what wine goes best with leftover egg rolls. Cooper lives with two thriving houseplants in Boston, Massachusetts.

ROMANCE NEW RELEASES 10/08-10/14/17, Giveaways, Pre-Orders, Freebies & Deals


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Review: INTENSITY (Chronicles of Nick) by Sherrilyn Kenyon


INTENSITY (Chronicles of Nick Book 8) by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Genre: Sci Fi & Fantasy, Teens & YA

Publication Date: September 5, 2017


IMG_9760It’s a demon-eat-demon world for Nick Gautier. Just when he thinks he’s finally gotten a handle on how not to take over the world and destroy it, Death returns with an all-star cast that is determined to end the Malachai reign and lineage forever. Worse? Death and War have found the one, true enemy Nick can’t find, and even if he did, it’s one he could never bring himself to banish or kill.

Now framed for murders he hasn’t committed, and surrounded by new friends who might be turncoats, Nick is learning fast how his father went down in flames.

The heat in New Orleans is rising fast, and Nick’s threat-level has gone into a whole new level of intensity. He’s learning fast that when War and Death decide to battle, they don’t take prisoners. They don’t negotiate. And they’re both immune to his biting sarcasm and Cajun charm. To win this, he will have to embrace a new set of powers, but one wrong step, and he will belong to the side of Darkness, forever.



INTENSITY is the perfect conclusion to an epic series. Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Chronicles of Nick series is a Young Adult series featuring Nick who is in her Dark-Hunter Series. I don’t usually pick up YA books, but this is a great series for teens as well as adults and there are a lot of characters from the Dark-Hunter series in the Chronicles of Nick series so I highly recommend reading it if you’re a Dark-Hunter  fan. Nick is one of my favorite characters in Kenyon’s Dark-Hunter series and the Chronicles of Nick tells his story up to the beginning of his life shown in the Dark-Hunter series. It’s emotional, funny, and packed full of action and suspense. I loved this series and can’t wait for Nick’s adult book in the Dark-Hunter series and the spin-off series, Shadows of Fire, that I think will pick up where INTENSITY ended. Sherrilyn Kenyon is a master storyteller and I’m always get swept up in the worlds she creates when I pick up her books. I love them!

*Review copy provided by Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. 





Kindle | Amazon Hardback

Check out Sherrilyn Kenyon’s INTENSITY book page HERE

Amazon Series Link




  1. Infinity
  2. Invincible
  3. Infamous
  4. Inferno
  5. Illusion
  6. Instinct
  7. Invision
  8. Intensity



✦Amazon Series Link
2. DRAGONSWAN – Found inside the Other Worlds
5. PHANTOM LOVER ~ available in the Dark Bites compendium.
6. A DARK-HUNTER CHRISTMAS ~ available in the Dark Bites compendium.
10. WINTERBORN ~ available in the Dark Bites compendium.
15. A HARD DAY’S NIGHT SEARCHER ~ available in the Dark Bites compendium.
16. UNTIL DEATH DO WE PART ~ available in the Dark Bites compendium.
18. FEAR THE DARKNESS ~ available in the Dark Bites compendium.
23. WHERE ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD ~ available in the Dark Bites compendium.
24. SHADOW OF THE MOON ~ available in the Dark Bites compendium.
28. NO MERCY ~
32. STYXX by Sherrilyn Kenyon ~ | Review 5 Stars:
34. SON OF NO ONE ~ | Review 5 Stars:
35. DRAGONBANE ~ | Review 5 Stars:
36. DRAGONMARK ~ | Review 5 Stars:

✦The Dark-Hunters (The Collection Thus Far) by Sherrilyn Kenyon

IMG_0613Also check out Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Lords of Avalon Series she writes as Kinley MacGregor! I’d recommend reading it before SON OF NO ONE and then following the Dark-Hunters series order. The Avalon world overlaps with the Dragons Rising series.

✦LORDS OF AVALON SERIES by Sherrilyn Kenyon/ Kinley MacGregor✦
1. THE WAGER available in the DARK BITES compendium.
4. SON OF NO ONE ~ | Review 5 Stars:
5. DRAGONBANE ~ | Review 5 Stars:
6. DRAGONMARK ~ | Review 5 Stars:




Shadows of Fire™

#1 New York Times and international bestselling saga continues…

The world of the Dark-Hunters® is unlike anything you’ve every seen before. It’s dark. It’s gritty. It’s dangerous…

And it’s a whole lot of unexpected action and snarky comebacks.

My name is Cyprian Malachai and I should have never been born. I know it. My mother knows it and most of all, my father, the Ambrose Malachai is more than aware of it. Every creature under the sun is out to end me.

But I don’t go down easy. Anyone who’s ever fought a Malachai knows that fact.

My father thinks that he’s heard the last of me . . .

He hasn’t. Our war is only on an interlude. It’s about to heat up and I have a massive grudge to settle. One that is far from over . . .


**Please note that Shadows of Fire is a four book continuation of the Chronicles of Nick®, and is a Young Adult spin-off series from the Dark-Hunter® novels. If you’d like to read the ones with more adult content, they are listed under the Dark-Hunter series section.
The manga listed is for ages 14 and up.


**Note to Dark-Hunter fans

The Chronicles of Nick *is* Nick’s real and true past. There is a huge surprise (several actually) in the series that I don’t want to spoil, but when you read them, everything you think is an inconsistency will make perfect sense to you. More than that, you will understand exactly why Nick is the way he is and why he continues to hate Acheron the way he does.

Remember the one promise that I try to keep in every book: Just when you think you know the truth about a character or event, you find out that things are seldom what they seem. Nick is one of those characters. There’s a lot more to our little Cajun than what you’ve seen to date.

Remember the one promise that I try to keep in every book: Just when you think you know the truth about a character or event, you find out that things are seldom what they seem. Nick is one of those characters. There’s a lot more to our little Cajun than what you’ve seen to date.

There are many, many secrets you’ll learn about a lot of characters, including Cherise and especially Jaden and Jared. Just hold on… you ain’t seen nothing yet 🙂
There are 8 books in the Nick Chronicles.

  1. Infinity
  2. Invincible
  3. Infamous
  4. Inferno
  5. Illusion
  6. Instinct
  7. Invision
  8. Intensity

There are 4 books in the Shadows of Fire series:

  1. Heart of Venom
  2. Will of Iron
  3. Fist of Fire
  4. Eye of Stone

Then there will have a separate trilogy of adult books to finish off the story arc.


**Please note that the books listed under series are in their correct reading order even though they don’t have to be read that way. The ones listed under related are books/anthologies that contain characters from this series, but they exist outside of the series time line.


✦Check out our favorite Sherrilyn Kenyon Quotes:

✦You can also check out an interview we did with Sherrilyn Kenyon Here:

*Interview was originally posted June 20, 2014  with our “Born of Fury” review. It includes some info about “Son of No One.”

✦Order Coloring Books HERE


image imageThe #1 New York Times bestselling author, Sherrilyn Kenyon, who is proud of her mixed Cherokee heritage, lives a life of extraordinary danger… as does any woman with three sons, a husband, a menagerie of pets and a collection of swords that all of the above have a major fixation with. But when not running interference (or dashing off to the emergency room), she’s found chained to her computer where she likes to play with all her imaginary friends. With more than twenty-five million copies of her books in print, in over one hundred countries, she certainly has a lot of friends to play with too.

In the last few years, she has placed more than 65 novels on the New York Times list in all formats including manga. This extraordinary bestseller continues to top every genre she writes. Her current series include: The Dark-Hunters, The League, and Chronicles of Nick.

Her Lords of Avalon novels have been adapted by Marvel, her Dark-Hunter novels are a New York Times bestselling manga published by St. Martins. and the Chronicles of Nick manga are published by Yen Press. Chronicles and Nick and Dark-Hunter are soon to be a major motion picture and the Dark-Hunters are currently being developed as a television series.

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Review & Giveaway: SHADOW REAPER (Shadow Riders Series) by Christine Feehan


SHADOW REAPER (Shadow Riders Series, Book 2) by Christine Feehan

Publication Date: May 30, 2017

Genre: Paranormal Romance/ Romantic Suspense


IMG_8534#1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan returns to her scorching-hot series starring a Chicago crime family that has built its empire in the shadows…

Billionaire playboy Ricco Ferraro knows no other life. Being a shadow rider is in his blood — but so is a haunting desperation stemming from the secrets of his dark past. His recklessness puts not only his life at risk, but also the future of his entire family. To save them all, he must find a woman who can meet his every desire with a heat all her own…

Just when Ricco has given up hope, he meets her — a mysterious woman whose shadow connects with his. She’s someone looking for a safe haven from the danger that has stalked her over the last several months. In Ricco’s embrace, she finds one. But the darkness in which they so often find sanctuary can also consume them…


Donna 5 Stars

Wow! I loved this installment in the Shadow Riders series. It started fast and never let me up for air. Wild, heart thumping action; tempered with a sensual and hot romance. Ricco is a hard man to describe, there were so many enticing layers to him. I liked Mariko from the start. Strong, intelligent and loyal. She had so many obstacles in her life, yet she wasn’t bogged down by them. I really wanted them both to be happy, so they could go on enjoying that big family of his. I like how the Ferraros banter, then get down to scary business. I think this is one book that I’ll be reading again, just so I can get psyched up for the next one.

*Review copy provided by Penguin in exchange for an honest review.




Read Chapter 1:


Buy Links

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Check out Book 1: SHADOW RIDER (The Shadow Riders Series, Book 1) by Christine Feehan ➢ Review 5 StarsKindle






image image#1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan has over 40 novels published, including four series. Each of her four series has hit #1 on the NY Times. Her debut novel Dark Prince received 3 of the 9 Paranormal Excellence Awards in Romantic Literature for 1999. Since then she has been published by Leisure Books, Pocket Books, and currently is writing for Berkley/Jove. She also has earned 7 more PEARL awards.

She is pleased to have made numerous bestseller lists including the New York Times, Publishers Weekly, USA Today, Bookscan, B. Daltons, Amazon, Barnes and Nobles, Waldenbooks, Ingrams, Borders, Rhapsody Book Club, Washington Post, and Walmart. She has received numerous honors throughout her career including being a nominee for the RWA’s RITA. She has received a Career Achievement Award from Romantic Times and the Borders 2008 Lifetime Achievement Award.

She has been published in multiple languages and in many formats, including large print, palm pilot, e-book, and hardcover. In October of 2007 her first manga comic, Dark Hunger was released in stores. This was the first ever manga comic released by Berkley Publishing and it made #11 on Publisher’s Weekly Bestseller’s List. Her ground-breaking book trailer commercials have been shown on TV and in the movie theaters. She has been featured on local TV, appeared on the The Montel Williams Show, and her book Dark Legend was featured on the cover of Romantic Times Magazine.

Christine Feehan has also appeared at numerous writers’ conventions and book signings including: Romantic Times Convention, Get Caught Reading at Sea Cruise, Celebrate Romance Conference, Emerald City Conference, and numerous Romance Writers of America Conferences.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: Website | Facebook | TwitterPinterest

Review: DEADMEN WALKING: A Deadman’s Cross Novel by Sherrilyn Kenyon


DEADMEN WALKING: A Deadman’s Cross Novel by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Genre: Fantasy Romance

Publication Date: May 9, 2017


IMG_8364#1 New York Times bestselling author Sherrilyn Kenyon debuts a sweeping new epic saga sure to appeal to the millions of her Dark-Hunter fans

Deadmen tell their tales…

To catch evil, it takes evil. Enter Devyl Bane–-an ancient dark warlord returned to the human realm as one of the most notorious pirates in the New World. A man of many secrets, Bane makes a pact with Thorn–-an immortal charged with securing the worst creations the ancient gods ever released into our world. Those powers have been imprisoned for eons behind enchanted gates…gates that are beginning to buckle. At Thorn’s behest, Bane takes command of a crew of Deadmen and, together, they are humanity’s last hope to restore the gates and return the damned to their hell realms.

But things are never so simple. And one of Bane’s biggest problems is the ship they sail upon. For the Sea Witch isn’t just a vessel, she’s also a woman born of an ancient people he wronged and who in turn wronged him during a centuries long war between their two races–a woman who is also sister to their primary target. Now Marcelina, the Sea Witch, must choose. Either she remains loyal to her evil sister and almost extinct race against Bane and his cause, and watches humanity fall, or she puts faith in an enemy who has already betrayed her. Her people over the totality of humanity–let’s hope Bane can sway her favor.


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*Graphics Credit: Sherrilyn Kenyon.



Loved it! DEADMEN WALKING is the first book in Sherrilyn Kenyon’s new historical fantasy romance series, the Deadman’s Cross Series, and it is part of the Dark-Hunter World. The Deadmen are brought back by Thorn to protect humanity from demons and they’re given a second chance to earn redemption. Bane leads the crew of Deadmen. This series is different from the Dark-Hunter series. I thought it was more fantasy than romance. There is a romance between Bane and Marcelina but I didn’t think it was the focus of the book. I really enjoyed it and I recommend it for Dark-Hunter fans even if you don’t normally enjoy the Fantasy genre. The Deadman’s Cross Series is an exciting new fantasy world and it was action packed. I couldn’t put it down and can’t wait for the next book. I’m already in love with Deadmen!

*Review copy provided by TOR in exchange for an honest review. 



✦Read an Excerpt:

✦Check out our favorite Sherrilyn Kenyon Quotes:

✦You can also check out an interview we did with Sherrilyn Kenyon Here:

*Interview was originally posted June 20, 2014  with our “Born of Fury” review. It includes some info about “Son of No One.”

✦Order Coloring Books HERE



Kindle | Amazon Hardback


image imageThe #1 New York Times bestselling author, Sherrilyn Kenyon, who is proud of her mixed Cherokee heritage, lives a life of extraordinary danger… as does any woman with three sons, a husband, a menagerie of pets and a collection of swords that all of the above have a major fixation with. But when not running interference (or dashing off to the emergency room), she’s found chained to her computer where she likes to play with all her imaginary friends. With more than twenty-five million copies of her books in print, in over one hundred countries, she certainly has a lot of friends to play with too.

In the last few years, she has placed more than 65 novels on the New York Times list in all formats including manga. This extraordinary bestseller continues to top every genre she writes. Her current series include: The Dark-Hunters, The League, and Chronicles of Nick.

Her Lords of Avalon novels have been adapted by Marvel, her Dark-Hunter novels are a New York Times bestselling manga published by St. Martins. and the Chronicles of Nick manga are published by Yen Press. Chronicles and Nick and Dark-Hunter are soon to be a major motion picture and the Dark-Hunters are currently being developed as a television series.

Social Media Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | YouTube

Spotlight & Guest Post: WANTED & WIRED (Tether, Book 1) by Vivien Jackson


WANTED & WIRED (Tether, Book 1) by Vivien Jackson

Publication Date: April 4, 2017

Genre: Science Fiction Romance


IMG_7671A rip-roarin’ new snarky, sexy sci-fi paranormal romance series with the perfect balance of humor, heat, and heart. Now that Texas has seceded and the world is spiraling into chaos, good guys come in unlikely packages and love ignites in the most inconvenient places…

Rogue scientist • technologically enhanced • deliciously attractive
Heron Farad should be dead. But technology has made him the man he is today. Now he heads a crew of uniquely skilled outsiders who fight to salvage what’s left of humanity: art, artifacts, books, ideas—sometimes even people. People like Mari Vallejo.

Gun for hire • Texan rebel • always hits her mark
Mari has been lusting after her mysterious handler for months. But when a by-the-book hit goes horribly sideways, she and Heron land on the universal most wanted list. Someone set them up. Desperate and on the run, they must trust each other to survive, while hiding devastating secrets. As their explosive chemistry heats up, it’s the perfect storm…


Author Guest Post

Who is your favorite supporting character from Wanted and Wired, and why?

I tend to get really into my characters. Like, I talk to them when I’m alone. They talk to each other, in my voice. Sometimes they wake me up in the middle of the night and demand to be heard. No, that’s not creepy at all. What?
I’ve fallen in love with every single one of them—even the villains, to my shame—and I really, really hope I’ve captured a particle of their awesomeness on the page. But there’s one character I’ve especially wanted to pull over and invite to sit beside me, to keep safe through all the bad stuff going on in their world. To care for and protect.
I’ve always been a sucker for the nonhuman in the mix: Data in Star Trek: The Next Generation, Roy Batty in Blade Runner, David in Prometheus (rowr). These guys all long sort of desperately to claim things that we all take for granted: emotion, history, connection, life.
In Wanted and Wired, that character is Chloe. She aches to be a real woman, but doesn’t even have a real body of her own. (Women are more than their bodies, right? But she doesn’t know that. Yet.) She’s a nanite cloud, a consciousness that shouldn’t exist. In a way, she’s like another of my favorite outsider characters, Alia Atreides from Dune. Because laws prohibit unauthorized experimentation with nanovats, Chloe is illegal, an abomination. She is both hunted and feared. It’s hard not to want to protect the character so many others want to destroy.
Especially when she isn’t bad. Not really.
Chloe personifies the world in chaos, trying to find its humanity, so if she falls or fails, in a way, everybody does. I wrote the first two books trying to see world events through her perspective, to get a top-down view of it. Or rather, an outside-in one. So when I got word that we were a go for making the third Tether book her story, my first thought was YES. My second thought was, well, that’s gonna be a challenge.
I’ll just give you a hint how it’s going: Chloe is the only character of mine who has ever made me cry.


Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback | Additional Links


About the Author

VIVIEN JACKSON is still waiting for her Hogwarts letter. In the meantime, she writes, mostly fantastical or futuristic or kissing-related stories. When she isn’t writing, she’s performing a sacred duty nurturing the next generation of Whovian Browncoat Sindarin Jedi gamers, and their little dogs too. With her similarly geeky partner, she lives in Austin, Texas and watches a lot of football.

Social Networking Links:
Twitter: @Vivien_Jackson

Spotlight, Review & Giveaway: RULED (The Outlaws Series) by Elle Kennedy


RULED (The Outlaws Series, Book 3) by Elle Kennedy

Publication Date: November 1, 2016

Genre: Romantic Suspense/ Science Fiction


img_4849The latest novel in the series with the “sexiest, baddest, hottest”* outlaws around, from the New York Times bestselling author of Claimed.

In the latest novel in the series with the “sexiest, baddest, hottest” outlaws around, one woman must choose between the two men who want to claim her…

…Or does she?

Despite his magnetic personality, Rylan can’t seem to seduce Reese, the deadly leader of their town of outlaws. Winning her over is a welcome challenge, but her indifference isn’t the only thing standing in his way. If he wants Reese, Rylan must also win over Sloan, her stoic protector…

Sloan has always loved Reese, but their painful past has stolen his chances of a future with her. Rylan’s interest in Reese only intensifies the tension—until Sloan begins to wonder if the reckless man might be the one person who can bridge the distance…

The last time Reese fell for the wrong man, she had no choice but to kill him. Now, she desperately wants to take what both Rylan and Sloan are offering. But if she makes the wrong call again, she risks losing them both.


Cori 4.5 Stars

I loved it! RULED is a scorching hot romantic suspense set in an apocalyptic world that kept me flipping the pages. It had not one, but two hot alpha heroes and a heroine I rooted for. The story took some twists and turns that surprised me. I couldn’t choose  between the two heroes and fell in love with them both. I just love this series. Elle Kennedy has a writing style that draws the reader into the story. Anytime I pick up one of her books I know I’m going to get swept up in a good story. RULED is part of Elle Kennedy’s Outlaw Series, but it can be read as a standalone. It’s set in apocalyptic world but I think romance readers that do not normally read this genre would still enjoy it. It’s a great romance and I highly recommend it.

*Review copy provided by Penguin in exchange for an honest review. 




Reese curled both hands around the cracked ceramic mug and breathed in the mint-flavored steam rising from the rim. It heated the tip of her nose and brought a much-needed rush of warmth. She’d felt chilled to the bone all morning, and it had nothing to do with the dipping temperature outside.
“So the raid was a success?” The very pregnant Bethany waddled over to the small sofa under the window.
Reese nodded. “We’ve got enough guns and ammo to start a war.”
Bethany’s eyebrows flicked up. “Or a revolution.”
“Same thing.”
“Is it?”
She didn’t even know anymore. Reese lifted the mug to her lips and took a small sip, all the while doing her best to avoid looking at Bethany’s bulging stomach. Seeing it reminded her of her own losses, the choice that had been stolen from her. And it reminded her of Arch, the ginger-haired giant who was never going to see his baby come into this world.
Arch had been a good man, an exceptional soldier. Everyone in town was still grieving for him, but none more so than his woman, whose brown eyes fixed on Reese now.
“What’s going on?” Bethany stroked her belly in absent- minded gestures. “You look worried.”
Reese set down her mug. “Nah, I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. Something’s up.”
She hesitated, because she didn’t confide in many people. Sloan was the one she went to when she was feeling vulnerable. Sometimes Lennox. Tamara. But for all the others, she put on a strong front. She was their leader, which meant they weren’t allowed to see her worrying, or vacillating, or drowning in self-doubt.
She’d known Bethany a long time, though. Shit, it had been almost eight years now. The two women were seventeen when they’d first crossed paths. Where the hell did the time go?
“I did something stupid last night,” she found herself confessing.
“Yeah? What’d you do?”
Bethany snorted. “Ah. So he finally charmed his way into your bed?”
The humor in Bethany’s eyes was such a welcome sight that Reese’s heart squeezed. In the two months since Arch’s death, Bethany’s expressions had alternated between completely vacant and raw with grief.
“How was it?” Bethany pressed.
How was it? Reese couldn’t even begin to answer that. Hell, she wasn’t sure there were actual words in the English language that could describe what went down between the two of them last night.
No, the three of them.
Her wrists were still sore from Sloan’s punishing grip. He’d held her, restrained her so she was at Rylan’s mercy. Sloan’s mercy. The memory sent a rush of desire to her core, which only confused her body. She didn’t even know who she’d been coming for last night. Rylan? Or Sloan? Or both?
What she did know was that she’d done a very bad thing. A dangerous thing.
Rylan had been as wild and addictive as she’d suspected he’d be, but . . . she’d crossed a line with Sloan. She’d stared into his eyes while she was sobbing in release. She’d clung to him while Rylan screwed her hard enough to make her see stars. She’d threatened their friendship, and for what? A few orgasms?
It wasn’t fair to Sloan. She knew damn well that he wanted her—she’d always known—yet she’d selfishly asked him to be there last night, even though it must have been torture for him.
What kind of friend did that make her?
“You’re worrying me again.”
Bethany’s quiet voice jolted her from her thoughts. “I’m sorry,” Reese murmured. She picked up her mug and took another long sip. “My head is foggy this morning.”
“Good sex will do that to you.”


Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon PBKB&N | Kobo | iBooks

Amazon Series Link




Paperback Copy of RULED by Elle Kennedy

a Rafflecopter giveaway


About the author
imageA USA Today bestselling author, Elle Kennedy grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a B.A. in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was a teenager.

Elle currently publishes with Signet Eclipse, Harlequin Romantic Suspense, Samhain Publishing and Entangled Brazen. She loves strong heroines and sexy alpha heroes, and just enough heat and danger to keep things interesting!

Social Media Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads


Release Blitz: Filthy English by Ilsa Madden-Mills


Filthy English by Ilsa Madden-Mills

Publication Date: July 10, 2016

*A modern love story inspired by Romeo and Juliet*





imageA smokin’ hot British player…

A jilted girl…

One night of mistaken identity…

Two weeks before her wedding, Remi Montague’s fiancé drops her faster than a drunken sorority girl in stilettos. Armed with her best friend and a bottle of tequila, she hops a plane to London to drown her sorrows before fall semester begins at Whitman University.

She didn’t plan on attending a masquerade party.

She sure didn’t plan on waking up next to the British bad boy who broke her heart three years ago—the devastatingly handsome and naked Dax Blay. Furthermore, she has no clue how they acquired matching tattoos.

Once back at Whitman together, they endeavor to pretend they never had their night of unbridled passion in London.

But that’s damn hard to do when you live in the same house…

One night. Two damaged hearts. The passion of a lifetime.








Plain and simple, this night sucked.
Sadly, it was my honeymoon.
I sighed heavily and gazed around Masquerade, an intimately lit London nightclub where everyone wore black domino masks, some elaborate and some plain, to hide their identity. A few die-hards even sported dark clothing with long, loose cloaks. Not me though. I’d gone modern with a slinky little number and three-inch heels, putting my height at nearly six feet. Yep, I’m the giant in the blue dress, towering over every girl and some guys at the bar.
My top teeth dug into my bottom lip as I gazed around the smoky club, my eyes bouncing off random faces. Even in a room full of party people, music, and strobe lights, I was lonely.
My groom was missing.
That’s right. Hartford Wilcox, Jr., aka Mr. Nice Guy at Whitman University in North Carolina, had jilted me two weeks before the big wedding day as we had dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, Mario’s.
And now here I was—on my honeymoon and getting trashed with my best friend Lulu who’d decided to skip her beach vacation and come with me at the last minute.
She poked me with her finger as we sat in front of the heavy wooden bar of the club. “Hey, Earth to Remi, get that glazed look out of your eyes and order a drink already. I’m thirsty.” She fluffed her pixie-cut pink hair and straightened her black tutu, eyes scoping out the club. “Dang, the men in here are hotter than a billy goat with a blow torch,” she said in her honeyed southern drawl.
I half-heartedly agreed, not really caring, more intent on scanning the bottles behind the bar. “I want tequila,” I murmured. “A whole bottle.”
Her face snapped back to me and her green eyes widened. “Uh-uh. No way. I know what happens when you drink that crap. You either eat a ton of tacos and puke, or you wrap yourself around some cocky bastard with a well-developed tush.”
True. I did love a tight muscular ass.
But I wouldn’t get one tonight.
A short laugh burst out of me, one of those I’m-miserable-but-pretending-to- be-okay-laughs that I’d been doing a lot of lately. For the past two weeks, I’d vacillated between a sobbing mess and an angry woman who became so incensed that “fuck” was the only word that seemed appropriate in any given situation. Going to the post office to mail he dumped me, but thank you anyway cards. Fuck. Going to the wedding venue and not getting the ten thousand dollar deposit back. Fuck. Realizing I was homeless fall semester—which was in two weeks—fuck. Listening to my mother tell me it was my fault. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The bartender delivered my bottle and poured me a shot. I sucked the tequila down while Lulu watched me warily. It tasted like bad decisions and gasoline, but tonight was about forgetting. The sooner the better.
A few minutes later, Lulu went out to dance with a British guy she’d been making eyes at. I sat glumly at the bar, fiddling with my diamond tennis bracelet, rubbing it like rosary beads. I needed to forget Hartford, and according to Lulu, that meant hooking up with someone.
Was she right?
Fate answered in the form of a beautiful man—and by beautiful I mean drop-dead sexy with a backside so delectable and muscular my mouth plopped open.
I snapped my lips shut and adjusted my velvet half-mask—the annoying feathery plumes on the sides kept sticking to my red lipstick—and turned ever so slightly to check him out, not wanting to appear obvious. He slid into the seat next to me, tall and broad with rippling shoulders and a massive frame.
I checked my appearance in a mirror behind the bar, mentally analyzing the odds of a girl like me snagging a hottie like him.
Although no one had ever called me beautiful, I did have two—okay, maybe three—things going for me in the looks department. My shiny, golden-brown hair that hung down in waves to my shoulders, my fluffy “pillow lips” as Lulu described them, and lastly, I had an itsy bitsy space between my two front teeth which were otherwise white and perfect. Lulu claimed the gap lent me an exotic look, like Madonna or Sookie Stackhouse. Whatever. I was a True Blood fan. I went with it.
He shifted on the stool, leaning closer to me. His cologne swirled in the air, the smell of expensive Scotch and musk mingling together to create a heady, slightly dangerous scent. I paused, goosebumps rising on my bare arms. The spicy whiff triggered a distant memory just out of reach.
As slyly as I could, I studied his profile from top to bottom. Like me he wore a black mask, although his was more masculine, not hiding his chiseled, movie star jawline. His lips were carnal and luscious, the bottom more plump than the top with a slight indentation in the middle. As I watched, his tongue swept out and caressed it, his top teeth biting it as if he were deep in thought. He raked a hand through his dark, longish messy hair, held it suspended above his head for a few seconds and then released it, letting it swish back into its tousled yet perfect place.
I tore my eyes away.
Something about him sent loud warning bells ringing in every atom of my body.
Danger, danger. Don’t touch that.
But my gaze would not be denied as I took in the tight black shirt and sculpted chest that was obviously used to the inside of a gym, right down to an arm that looked like it could snap a board in half—or me.
Nice biceps, Mr. Beautiful.
The pièce de résistance was the vivid blue and orange dragonfly tattoo displayed on his left arm. It was larger than my hand and took up most of his bicep. My eyes traced the contours of the design from the papery wings to the multi-faceted eyes. A bold black color outlined the insect, giving it a masculine feel.
True Religion jeans stretched down long legs and ended in a pair of black Converse without socks, giving him a boyish quality that was in direct contrast to the crazy-sexy-bad-boy vibe he had going on.
Him tonight?
Maybe. He was the polar opposite of Hartford who was blond, lean, and tattoo-free.
I nibbled on my fingernail. How do I get him to notice little ol’ me?
Just then a redhead with fluffy Farrah Fawcett hair strode up to his stool, bold as brass, wearing a tight, white mini-skirt that barely covered her booty. She brought with her the smell of sweet, cloying perfume, the kind I always got spritzed with at the mall.
She flicked her hair over her shoulder, casually rubbed her finger down his arm and struck up a conversation. Her fake, black lashes—which she’d somehow managed to get outside the eyeholes of her mask—batted. She puffed out her well-developed chest.
He smiled back at her with a wicked grin, his relaxed body language telling me he was confident when it came to women. She whispered in his ear, boobs right in his face, but whatever he said back wasn’t what she wanted to hear because a few ticks later, she crossed her arms, glared at me, and stalked away.
I blinked. What had I done?
Then he turned and pointed his devastating smile at me.
Shit, he’d made eye contact—as much as you could with a claustrophobic mask on.
But wait…
Was he crazy?
Because if he’d turned down her flirtation, I didn’t have a shot.
I didn’t know how to do the fingers-tip-toeing-up-his-arm-thing and sexy hair flicking. I didn’t know a thing about applying fake eyelashes. I didn’t know how to make my breasts sit up that high. I looked away from him and took another shot, feeling anxious and strangely off-kilter.
Mr. Beautiful ordered a drink from the bartender, his British accent smooth as silk as it washed over me. I froze. I almost knew that voice—deep with soft rounded vowels that made you tingle in your lady parts.
What was it about this guy that had me all jacked up and hot for him?
Hello, tequila, my inner voice said. But it was more than that.
Getting brave, I pivoted on my barstool, and found Mr. Beautiful’s eyes on me once more, searching my face. As if he too recognized the pull between us.
My heart played hopscotch, jumping against my chest. My skin prickled. I shivered.
Did I know him?
It clicked.
Dax Blay?
It was his voice, the same deep quality, the kind of voice that made you want to hop into his bed and ride him like a cowgirl.
My breath hitched, and I swallowed down the emotion that zipped up my spine whenever I thought of him. He was my one mistake, the time I’d tossed inhibitions and carefully laid plans aside and went with my instincts, only to have them tossed back in my face.
But the man next to me wasn’t Dax. Thank God.
Last spring at the campus-wide end of the year fraternity party with Hartford, I’d seen Dax, and he’d had shorter hair, like always, and zero tattoos. Yeah. No way.
Plus, last I heard, he was in Raleigh where his father lived.
Dax was British. He could have family here. Maybe he got a tattoo?
Nah. I mean, what were the odds of us both being at the same club on the same night in a country where neither of us lived?
I tore my eyes off Mr. Beautiful and waved at a bartender for more limes, but somehow my tennis bracelet snagged on the bodice of my dress, leaving my wrist dangling like a wet dishrag in a most inappropriate place.
I wiggled my arm.
Jiggled it.
Even went so far as to jerk, but it wouldn’t separate.
Sweat popped out on my forehead. Holding my breath, I twisted and tugged the bracelet, forcing the delicate material in my bodice to stretch beyond normal limits.
“Well, hell,” I breathed, pausing to assess.
Skin-tight with a plunging neckline, the dress was mostly a stretchy fabric held together by sequined straps and a zipper on the side. Slated as part of my honeymoon wardrobe, it was a Tory Burch and had cost four hundred dollars, the most I’d ever paid for a fun outfit, and no way did I want to damage it. I might have to return it to rent an apartment at Whitman.
Lulu. I needed Lulu. She was a whiz with wardrobe malfunctions.
I spun around on the barstool and used my free hand to wave at her, but she was slinging herself around dancing, having a great time and completely oblivious. I resorted to flapping both hands at her, one high and one low. Several people waved back with baffled expressions, but Lulu didn’t notice. Dammit.
I groaned and slumped down in my seat, ready to scream. Now what? Go to the bathroom and repair it there? Good plan.
But the club tilted when I stood, the strobe lights making me squint as they flashed in my face. I wobbled in my leopard print heels—that Lulu had insisted I wear—and grabbed the stool to keep my balance. `
I sucked in a breath to gather myself, but I couldn’t think straight. The room spun, and I was suddenly queasy, and why did I slam all that tequila, and oh my god, my wrist is currently attached to my tit like a T. rex arm.
I had to get out of here before someone noticed what an idiot I was.
Trying to be stealth like, I reached across the bar to get my beaded clutch, but because it was my left hand and not my right that I used most of the time, I got off balance and stumbled—and my ankle folded in on itself. I yelped as my shoe catapulted off my foot and vaulted off toward the dance floor, while I fell forward, straight into Mr. Beautiful’s lap.

Filthy English (unedited excerpt)
Copyright Ilsa Madden-Mills


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imageNew York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.

She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.

When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: WebsiteFacebookInstagramTwitter



imageDirty English by Ilsa Madden-Mills
Release Date: October 12, 2015
Genre: New Adult Romance


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VERY BAD THINGS – Review 5 Stars