Monday, December 15, 2014

Three Little Words By Maggie Wells Book Blast

Three Little Words
Title: Three Little Words Erotic Romance 18+

Author: Maggie Wells

Sexual Content: Explicit

Publish Date: December 15, 2014

Publisher Lyrical/Kensington

Type of book: Stand-alone novel

Synopsis 


It’s never too late to make the best impulsive decision of your life. Jo Masters isn’t the party girl she used to be, but now that she’s a woman without obligations, she’s ready to recapture a little of her misspent youth. Her niece’s wedding, with its open bar and dark dance floor, proves to be the perfect opportunity to let loose. Gregory Stark is just trying to make it through his son’s wedding day... and make some time with the gorgeous brunette on the bride’s side of the aisle. His kid’s wedding probably isn’t the best occasion to put the moves on the sexy woman, who introduces herself only as ‘Josie’, but his best friend is closing in on her too and he has to act fast. With a couple of tequila shots under his belt, Greg propositions Josie -- and neither wants to refuse.

 
SNEAK PEAK!

The line at the bar wasn’t long, but she needed a drink--a real drink--and she needed it fast. Jo twirled her empty champagne flute and tapped her toe as the DJ made a cringe-worthy segue between Louis Armstrong and Pink. A pang of regret tweaked her stomach when she spotted her eldest brother, Tony, leading his baby girl from the dance floor, but that was nothing new. She’d suffered so many pangs in her life they’d become a part of her autonomic system. Breathe in, breathe out, pang. Blink, sniffle, sneeze, pang. Go to bed alone--again--pang!
At the tender age of twenty-six, her niece had managed to accomplish everything Jo never had. Kaylin had a career, a home of her own, and a man she loved so much she actually glowed. Literally glowed. Jo hadn’t known such a glow since her mother stopped slathering her sunburns in Noxzema.
Radiant happiness was enough to drive a woman to drink.
Three groomsmen bellied up to the bar and jockeyed for position in front of the pretty blond bartender. Their voices rose as they trumped each other’s orders. Each successive suggestion was an obvious attempt to prove the issuer was more worldly, and therefore manly, than the last. The misguided boys must have believed their ability to chug grain alcohol might make or break their chance at ending the evening in the poor girl’s bed. The bartender eyed them with hardly-contained disdain. The posturing little pricks didn’t notice. Jo couldn’t help but smile when the girl rolled her eyes and went back to stacking glassware.
What little buzz Jo had managed to eke out of two glasses of table wine and a flute of champagne began to wane. She considered goosing one of the guys to shock him into gear, but then another tuxedo-clad man, murmuring quiet excuses, slipped in front of her. The groomsmen jumped when the newcomer gripped their padded shoulders.
“Three beers for these guys, please. Give them the imported stuff.” Casually, he stuffed a twenty-dollar bill into the pitcher serving as a tip jar. “Having fun, fellas?”
The groomsmen replied in the affirmative, but their cheeks glowed pink. Bravado squelched, they grabbed their beers and beat a hasty retreat. The hero of the hour turned to face Jo. Recognition kicked in. Saliva pooled in her mouth and a tingle of awareness prickled the fine hairs at her nape. Her savior was none other than the father of the groom. It took a fraction of a second for her brain to source the pertinent facts Kaylin had imparted on Ben’s father. Gregory. Greg. Divorced, devoted dad, and hot as Hades on a summer day. Confronted with him now, Jo was happy to confirm the acute case of the bright shinies hadn’t skewed her niece’s powers of observation. Gregory Stark was all that and more.
         He’d sneaked glances at her all through the ceremony. Now, he grinned right at her. “Good to know I’ve still got it.”
His dark eyes glinted with amusement. She wasn’t sure if he was referring to his ability to circumvent a bar line, or the fact that she’d been unable to resist returning every one of the furtive glances he’d tossed her way. Jo decided to play it neutral.
Rolling her parched tongue up off the carpet, she nodded the approbation he was obviously seeking. “Effective.”
No lie. He was the most attractive man she’d laid eyes on in forever. Which made perfect sense in a bizarre Karmic way. Of course she had to meet this man after she’d poked a nail through her last pair of control-top pantyhose.
Still, there was no reason she couldn’t catalog every bit of him for later use. With a practiced eye, she gauged him to be a few years older than her. Her guess put him somewhere in his mid-fifties. Unlike most men, he hadn’t packed on any extra cushioning for the slide into the AARP years. He was tall and lean, his movements as taut and compelling as the lines bracketing his eyes and those sculpted lips. His jaw was smooth and shiny, clean-shaven, but the shadow of a heavy beard loomed below the surface. Jo wanted to know what else he kept hidden under the slick exterior.
He’d been seated in the front pew at the ceremony beside his ex-wife and her husband. Jo wondered what he’d done to earn ex status. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine any woman willingly giving this man up for the paunchy redhead who’d taken his place.
He nodded toward the array of bottles behind the bar. “Champagne?”
“God, no.” The response was automatic. She hated champagne. Pure desperation forced her to resort to the glass poured for the toasts because the dinner wine was long gone. Now he was offering her more. The sparkling wine seemed an apt choice for him. He looked like Cary Grant, what with the wings of silver in his dark hair, the crinkly brown eyes sparkling with mischief, and the tuxedo. Maybe he was offering her champagne because Cary Grant would offer her champagne. Cary would call her “darling.” Would Gregory Stark call her “darling?”
Something tugged at her fingers. She stared in rapt fascination as he removed the forgotten flute from her hand and placed it on the bar. “Oh. No. No more champagne.” She managed a weak twitch of her lips. “Thank you.”
A proprietary hand landed in the small of her back. Jo surrendered to the gentle pressure, closing her eyes and imagining the pads of his fingers to be electrodes. Sparks sizzled along her spine. He spread his fingers wide as he drew alongside her at the bar. Arousal swept through her like a hot flash. Unlike those endless minutes of core meltdown, this heat wasn’t something to be endured. His touch was a treat to be savored. She opened her eyes and found him staring at her, his lips parted and his eyes shining bright.
“What’ll it be, then?”
“Tequila. Three shots.”
The answer popped out before her brain engaged. It was a ghost from her past. A remnant of the reckless youth she’d left buried under a pile of soul-crushing responsibility.
“Whoa. Three?” He craned his neck and scanned the room. “Maybe I should get one of the younger guys back.”
Once upon a time, three was her magic number. The key to managing everything life had thrown at her. Good and bad. The magic of three stopped being effective not long after she’d turned thirty--a bitter disappointment she’d never managed to reconcile with herself. Turns out, fate had her number in another way.
Well, screw fate. She’d played the good girl long enough. Emboldened by the wine and the heat of his hand scorching her back, she looked him square in the eye. “I have no use for boys, thankyouverymuch. Don’t worry. It’s okay if you can’t keep up. I won’t think less of you.”
He laughed. Not a chuckle or a chortle, but a deep, rumbling, full-throated guffaw that wrapped itself around her and drew her closer still. Or maybe he pulled her in with his hand. Either way, she was within sniffing distance, so she took a hit. Pure man. No flowery cologne masked the warm and musky mix of soap, shaving cream, and some kind of whiskey. Thank God.
“Set ’em up,” he told the bartender.
The girl lined six tiny glasses along the side rail. Pale amber liquid dribbled onto the bar when she moved from glass to glass. She piled wedges of lime on a napkin and plunked a saltcellar beside it. The furrow of concentration between the bartender’s over-tweezed eyebrows smoothed when Greg shoved another bill into the tip jar.
His hand fell away from Jo’s back as they moved to the side of the bar. She kept her gaze purposefully averted, trying not to pout over the loss. She raised one of the shot glasses in silent salute then downed the tequila without benefit of salt and lime.
The alcohol blazed a trail of fire in her throat. Jo gave her head a toss to soothe the burn. The frank admiration in her companion’s gaze made her pussy tingle with arousal. Her body’s response to this gorgeous stranger startled her. Deep in her heart, she feared she was past all desire.
He leaned in closer. “What’s your name?”
The answer leapt to her tongue, but she bit it back. For one night, this night with this man, she didn’t want to be sad old Aunt Jo. She wanted to be the woman she’d been back in the days before she had to be seated with one of her cousins to round out a table. She wanted to be the girl who thought she had all the time in the world.
Fixing Kaylin’s new father-in-law with a bold stare, she raised a challenging eyebrow. “Jose.”
“As in Cuervo?”
“Exactly.” When he opened his mouth again, she held up one hand and dredged up the name she used in those wild days of time and tequila. “But you can call me Josie.”
He blinked once then cocked his head, studying her for one long moment. He reached for a glass. The wry twist of his lips told her he was certain she’d given him a fake name, but he didn’t seem to care too terribly much. He eyed her over the rim of the tiny glass. “Nice to meet you, Josie. I’m Greg.”
Silver cufflinks flashed as he tossed the shot back. He chased the booze with a low growl. A golden drop clung to his upper lip. Jo wiped it away with the pad of her thumb but froze as she pulled away. They stared at one another, arrested by her sheer audacity. Mortification set the tips of her ears on fire. She tried to finish her retreat, but he captured her wrist.
“Thank you.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Tell me, Josie, are you a pussycat?”
Jo laughed. And, damn, it felt good. She was flirting with a handsome man, and he was flirting back with enthusiasm. Quite a rush for a woman long out of practice. She swallowed the lump in her throat and lowered her gaze along with her wayward hand, wondering if her rusty skills were obvious.
“Uh-uh. Don’t try to play shy with me now,” he admonished. When she didn’t respond, he leaned close. His breath stirred her hair and tickled her ear. “You’re the most intriguing woman here, and you damn well know it.”
Pleasure ran warm and thick in her veins. Jo closed her eyes, giving herself over to the vague pain of her nipples tightening and the quickening of her pulse. “Do I?”
“I noticed you in the church.”
A shiver tripped along her spine. She tipped her head, surrendering to the moist caress of his breath. “You did?”
“I couldn’t stop looking at you.”
Though she’d noticed, the bold confession still stunned her. In the way of women too used to being invisible, she’d denied the tingle of knowledge. Hard to believe a man so handsome might find her attractive. For too long she’d played the part of plain old Aunt Jo.
“I can’t stop looking at you now.” The husky admission pried her eyes open. “I had to find you.”
The urgency in his tone gave her the boost she needed. Oh, how she wanted to be Josie with the tequila shots once more. With him. For him. Flashing a sly glance, she reached for a second tiny glass. “And now you have.”

He snatched a glass from the bar and touched the rim to hers. His gaze bore into her, unwavering and intense. “And now I have.”
 

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About the Author



Maggie Wells is a deep-‐down dirty girl with a weakness for hot heroes and happy endings. By day she is buried in spreadsheets, but at night she pens tales of people tangling up the sheets. The product of a charming rogue and a shameless flirt, this mild- ‐mannered married lady has a naughty streak a mile wide. Fueled by supertankers of Diet Coke, Maggie juggles fictional romance and the real deal by keeping her slow- ‐talking Southern gentleman constantly amused and their two grown children mildly embarrassed.


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Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Hey You Guys!!


WOW WOW WOW WOW!
 There is a major sale that I have to share. Maggie Wells, one of my all time favourite erotic authors, is featured and there is an awesome sale on her entire St. Blaise series. 
HOT NIGHTS IN ST. BLAISE by Maggie Wells
The Complete Calendar Collection - January - December
Welcome to St. Blaise
Home of the Men and Women of St. Blaise Regional Medical Center
When the St. Blaise Regional Medical Center Board of Directors hired hometown girl, Beth Watkins, to jump-start their public relations, they never imagined she’d be stripping their most prominent doctors, nurses, and support staff down to their birthday suits in order to beef up the hospital’s bank account.
Six men and six women were chosen to represent the best and brightest of this little town nestled in the heart of the Mark Twain National Forest. They also happened to be the hottest tickets in town. Soon the fundraising calendar is spiking temperatures throughout the Show Me state, and the men and women of St. Blaise are setting their small-town nights on fire.
Release date: November 25, 2014
Category: Fiction > Romance > Contemporary > Erotic Romance
Heat Level: Erotic Romance
Series: Hot Nights in St. Blaise (collection, anthology)
ISBN: 978-1-62237-355-0
Ebook Price: $2.99
Digital Download: EPUB, MOBI, LIT, PDF
More from Maggie Wells

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Worth The Fall by Claudia Connor
















Matt and Abby's book




Worth The Fall

by Claudia Connor

Book Blurb:
They meet on a beach. . . . Abby Davis isn’t wearing a skimpy bikini or sipping umbrella drinks, not when she’s busy chasing around four little ones. And Matt McKinney isn’t looking for fun—he’s a Navy SEAL, a grown man with a long list of missions . . . and fallen brothers.
 
They only have a week. . . . Abby has brought her children to this beach to start over, to give them the enjoyable memories they deserve. Matt’s been sidelined by a combat injury, and haunted by the best friend he lost and the promise he made: to remain a SEAL—focused and dedicated. This leaves no time for what he’s always wanted: a family.
 
But a week is all it takes. . . . Matt opens her heart while Abby soothes his soul. And though they plan to say good-bye when the week is over, something magical happens on that beach, something neither can forget. Something utterly, completely worth falling for.




I really didn't like Worth the Fall. It was so far out there that it bordered on fantasy. I love my contemporary romances to be as real as possible and the plot in Worth the Fall was far reaching. 

The author would have you believe that a pregnant widow along with her four little children vacationing on a beach would be attractive to a hot, studly young Navy Seal. At five months pregnant, wearing a swimsuit and looking after young children including a toddler, Abby would be not be a prime target for a hot dude on a beach. Sorry, no amount of convincing would say otherwise. Now if he was already with Abby and it was his family, for sure she would be appear attractive to him. I'm not saying that pregnant women are not attractive. No! I'm not saying that at all. I am just saying that he would not even notice her. 

Events kept happening that would make my eyes roll. For instance, Abby was at the beach with her horde of kids and she talked on the phone with a girl friend. One of the first things the girl friend asks is if she met someone. Who would think to ask that question? Abby,with her belly showing and all her kids on vacation and the first thing a friend asks is if she has met someone? As if! How would Abby meet someone? Make her toddlers babysit themselves in front of the TV and she'd wade up to the swim bar? Just dumb. Not to mention that Abby's husband had just passed away 6 months ago. 

It seemed like all the secondary characters were jerks or villains. Even Abby's dead husband was a jerk but that didn't stop her from making 5 kids with him. I don't understand why the author kept making everyone mean. 

Then the one person that I did expect to not be accepting of Abby and her kids hooking up with Matt was his mom. I mean what mom would be pleased that her single son takes up with a pregnant woman and her kids? Matt's mother was hestitant for maybe one day and then she was completely accepting. I didn't buy it. Even if Abby's mom decided she liked Abby and her family, there would still be a part of her that would want differently. Especially in under one week. I am sure after a length of time Matt's mom would change but not this quickly. No way. 

As cute as Abby's children were, they were too perfect. They were never cranky or tired and they didn't fight with their siblings. They never had temper tantrums and were just cute 100% of the time. A complete fable. Also perfect was Matt. There was not one thing wrong with him. He said all the right things. He didn't have one flaw and the one mistake he do was unbelievable. (There's this new invention called a telephone people) Humans like Matt just don't exist except in an author's fantasy world maybe. 

I only finished Worth the Fall because my friend read it and really wanted to discuss it with me. Otherwise I would have chucked it to the side.