Thursday, April 11, 2019
Nine: The Tale of Kevin Clearwater, the highly anticipated new standalone from USA Today bestselling author T.M. Frazier is coming June 18th and we have the sexy cover!
One chance to make her his.
Preppy's brother is about to live up to the family legacy in more ways than one.
This is the story of Nine, The Tale of Kevin Clearwater.
Pre-order your copy today!
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/N9NE
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2U1ObOV
About the Author
T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier never dreamed that a single person would ever read a word she wrote when she published her first book. Now, she is a five-time USA Today bestselling author and her books have been translated into numerous languages and published all around the world. T.M. enjoys writing what she calls sexy‘wrongside of the tracks romance’ with morally corrupt anti-heroes and ballsy heroines. Her books have been described as raw, dark and gritty. Basically, what that means, is while some authors are great at describing a flower as it blooms, T.M. is better at describing it in the final stages of decay. She loves meeting her readers, but if you see her at an event please don’t pinch her because she's not ready to wake up from this amazing dream.
Connect with T.M. Frazier
Stay up to date with T.M. by signing up for her mailing list: http://bit.ly/TMFrazier Website: http://www.tmfrazierbooks.com
For Text Alerts: TEXT “TMFRAZIER” TO 77948
*Standard text messaging rates apply*
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
Pretty Reckless, the first standalone in the highly anticipated All Saints High series from USA Today bestselling author L.J. Shen, is coming April 29th and we have the gasp-worthy cover!
In most places, high school is a zoo.
But All Saints High? It's a lawless jungle.
All the cool kids wear the same brands.
Have the same hair.
Same fucking makeup artists, hair stylist and harem of preppy help.
Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy.
But Daria Followhill? She's the OG.
Girls want to be her.
Guys want to be INSIDE her.
It really doesn't get better than this for Queen Bae, does it?
Until HE shows up, turns her kingdom upside down, and breaks her crown...
HE is not what you think.
SHE is not what you expect.
You're probably thinking in an obvious direction, but let me assure you, this is not where this story is going.
Let the (power) games begin...
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2FZssQ7
Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
Model: Austin Victoria
About LJ Shen:
L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.
Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets people's’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.
She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.
Connect with L.J. Shen:
Stay up to date with L.J. Shen by signing up for her mailing list:
Friday, March 29, 2019
From the author of the sinfully sexy and highly addictive The Wolf Hotel series comes a seductive and tantalizing new novel, SWEET MERCY! Read an excerpt here!!
In a world where he can have anything, he wants her.
I check my watch for the hundredth time.
That’s three hours and ten minutes of sitting in this bland, uncomfortable waiting room, even though I made sure to arrive at eight thirty sharp this time, when visiting hours opened.
If there’s one thing I can say about Fulcort, it’s that it’s quickly becoming as predictable as a thief browsing a shop full of jewels.
And, I swear, that woman who just passed into security arrived well after me. So did the last five people they called. But I don’t dare complain. That leering, strip-search-threatening security guard from last weekend is there again today, stealing frequent looks my way that make the hairs on my arms stand on end.
With a heavy sigh, I sink back into the LSAT prep text book I borrowed from a friend, keeping one ear perked for my name to be called. It’s hard to focus—what with all the buzzers buzzing and people milling impatiently and Pervy Parker’s brusque barking—but time is not a luxury I can afford to waste, not if I’m actually going to pay the registration fees and take this test in the fall.
In my periphery, I sense a figure approaching, and a moment later they settle into the chair directly beside me. Even though there’s an open section across from me that would give this person—this male, based on the black Adidas and dark wash jeans that I can see from my hunched angle and the spicy cologne I just inhaled—an empty seat on either side of him. But, no, he has to sit down
I grit my teeth, annoyed. But I’m in a prison waiting area and likely to go in soon, so there’s no need to cause a potential scene by getting up and moving. Either way, I shift my body to give him the back of my shoulder.
“You want to be a lawyer, huh?” the stranger says, and somehow his deep, raspy voice slides down my spine like liquid honey.
And now he’s reading over my shoulder.
As much as I’d like to ignore him, my father’s words from last weekend about making enemies ring in my ear. I don’t need to be making enemies around here either. “Yup,” I murmur politely, but keep my head down.
“Smart and beautiful. I haven’t had that combination. Yet.” There’s no mistaking the humor in his voice. Or the insinuation.
This is where my politeness ends. “Look, no offense? But I’m not here to get hit on by….” The rest of the words fall off as I turn to find myself caught in intense blue eyes the color of nightfall.
It’s the guy from last week. The sexy-as-all-hell guy.
The one visiting the mob boss.
I clear my throat several times as a wild rash of flutters stirs in my stomach.
His lips curve into a knowing smirk, as if he can sense my reaction. He’s somehow even more attractive today. Almost model-pretty, with that cutting jawline, high cheekbones, and deep-set eyes. But the thin layer of stubble coating his cheeks, the rough hands, the slouchy, legs-spread way he sits in that chair radiates masculinity.
Pretty, but likely dangerous, I remind myself. God only knows how dangerous. This guy was visiting Fulcort’s version of Al Capone last week. For all I know, he’s a mob henchman. Maybe he knows where that missing witness went.
Maybe he’s the one who helped make him disappear.
I need to stay far away from this man.
“I’m no expert, but I’m guessing lawyers who can’t find their tongues don’t do very well in that profession.” His gaze drops to my mouth, where it sits for several beats. “Sorry, what were you saying? Something about not being here to get hit on by…?”
I clear my throat again. Being outright rude to him would be as stupid as welcoming his cocky version of flirtation. I settle for polite honesty. “By anyone.” But especially not by the goddamn mob.
“I guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t hitting on you then.” His dark blue eyes drift casually around the room. “You’re not my type.”
“Well… good.” I duck my head as I try to shake my embarrassment. What is his type, I wonder? Silicone-filled, no doubt. Likely also dubious morals and a loose—
“Who are you visiting?”
“My father,” I find myself answering before I can stop myself. I hesitate. “You?”
He smirks. “Same.”
My stomach drops. This guy isn’t a mobster minion. He’s the son of a mob boss. Is that better or worse?