C.J. Butcher's Blog, page 98

Title: Searching for LoveSeries: Behind Blue Lines Series...

Title: Searching for LoveSeries: Behind Blue Lines SeriesAuthor: Christine ZolendzGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: June 12, 2017 What’s sexier than a man in uniform? A whole precinct full of them...Searching for Love is the second book in the Behind Blue Lines Series by Christine Zolendz. What you're looking for might be right in front of you... BROOKE FURYBetrayed. Destroyed. Shattered.But, I'm used to it.After all, I'm a cop, and I've seen the worst.I just never thought it would happen to me.But it did. Now, I can't trust anyone.Not him.Not myself.Nobody. RYAN CAGEDetermined. Loyal. Honest.But she won't trust me,Won't let me in.Even though I'm a detective, I can't solve the mystery. No matter how hard I try,She pushes me away.What she doesn't realize,Is I'm the one thing she can count on,Forever.






This book already had quite a bit of information in it starting out.  If you've ever read a Christine Zolendz book, then you know you're either in for a tearjerker or some angst/drama.  I found this to be well-written, full of emotion, and I love the hero.  He's flawed but beautifully so.  Brooke's last boyfriend was a putz...he got violent and stalkerish because she said no.  She wanted a relationship and when it didn't go his way, he choked her almost to death.  I considered Brooke to be a strong heroine...she's a cop, she carries a gun - you don't think that you'll ever be a statistic because of what you do, but that's a lie.  Police officers are people who shockingly enough are abuse victims also.  Ryan is a player, he's a loudmouthed one at that.  He has no filter and he's proud of it.  He makes no apologies for who he is...I loved that and wouldn't change him.  Together, they make the perfect couple.  I'm a sucker for friends to lovers books and the way they're written.  If you throw a bunch of sex in there - I'm not gonna read it or enjoy it.  However, if you take the time to grow a relationship on the pages like you would a garden then you've got some harvest going on!!!  I love epilogue's in books because it kind of hints that 'hey I'm going to have another in the series' and now I'll have to stalk her page to find out when it'll drop.






Christine Zolendz, a USA Today Bestseller, resides in New York City with her favorite NYPD detective and their two beautiful daughters. She loves reading, writing, wine, and caramel lattes. a Rafflecopter giveaway
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"The best and only way to kick off summer, devouring The ...

"The best and only way to kick off summer, devouring The Last Guy and then doing it all over again because it's just that good."-- #1New York Times Bestselling Author Rachel Van Dyken
THE LAST GUYBy Ilsa Madden-Mills and Tia LouisePublication Date: June 12thGenre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy  
Synopsis:The first rule of office romance is don’t do it—especially if your dream is to hold the anchor spot on the nightly news and your boss is trying to get you fired.But one look at Cade Hill, the sexy new sports director, and uptight reporter Rebecca Fieldstone is daydreaming about other things.Sex in his office…Sex in the on-set kitchen…Sex in the supply closet…She can’t stop thinking about the former NFL quarterback and how perfect he’d look between her sheets—except he’s an arrogant jerk with a huge… ego.He’s the last guy she’d ever have a one-night stand with.Cade Hill draws a thick professional line on office romance—until it comes to the hyper-focused Rebecca. He wants her, and he gets his wish when a chance encounter has them having the hottest sex of their lives.It’s just a hook-up, she says.When can we do it again? he says.With Rebecca determined to keep Cade in the friend zone, it’s going to be an uphill battle for Cade to convince her he’s the last guy she’ll ever want.THE LAST GUY is the first white-hot CONTEMPORARY ROMANTIC COMEDY from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and Tia Louise. It features Fireball-fueled hookups, Doritos Locos Tacos, attack monkeys, toddlers in tiaras, and one fabulous drag queen. Prepare for frantic clicking (or page flipping!) and smoking-hot sexytimes all the way to the out-of-this-world happily-ever-after.   
Read THE LAST GUY today:Amazon US: http://smarturl.it/TLGamzAmazon UK: http://smarturl.it/TLGamziPAPERBACKAmazon: http://smarturl.it/TLGamzp 
 About the Authors: Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and the “Queen of Hot Romance” Tia Louise are not a secret duo, but simply themselves. Great friends, former English teachers, and southern gals in real life, they’ve teamed up to bring you laugh-out-loud naughty romances with strong leading ladies and sexy alpha males who know how to please their women… and who sometimes you just want to slap.
Connect with Tia: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorTiaLouise/Twitter: @AuthorTLouiseStay up to date with Tia Louise by signing up for her newsletter:http://smarturl.it/TLMnewshttps://authortialouise.com/dirtyplayers/
Connect with Ilsa: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorilsamaddenmills/Twitter: https://twitter.com/ilsamaddenmillsGoodreads: http://bit.ly/2k6L96JAmazon: http://amzn.to/2jjRzlDWebsite: http://www.ilsamaddenmills.com/                     

Title: Memories of MeAuthor: Dani HartGenre: Contemporary...

Title: Memories of MeAuthor: Dani HartGenre: Contemporary RomanceRe-release Date: June 12, 2017


Blurb
*Inspired by true events*(Characters are a work of fiction)
When you close your eyes and open them again you expect to see the world as it was a fraction of a second ago. Maybe a slight change from a passing breeze, but you are still in the same place, unmoving and unchanged. You don’t expect to be somewhere else where the faces are unfamiliar. Where you are unfamiliar. 

With one blink I had no family, no home, no name, and no past. I was alone, until I met the Reilly brothers. They gave me purpose again. A reason to trust. A reason to love. A reason to rebuild a life full of forgotten memories. Together, they would try to rewrite my history.

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Author Bio
I have always been drawn to words. They have this magic to touch my soul when I need it the most, whether through reading or writing. My love for writing started as most little girl's with a diary. It evolved into a big girl journal and then transformed into a notebook of poetry during the dark days of high school. I followed my dream to USC (University of Southern California) to study theatre, creative writing, and screenwriting. Finally, I understood how to take the stories in my head and commit them to paper. I was fortunate enough to sell my first professional script during college and have been writing ever since. 

In 2013 I took to self-publishing. I realized quickly that my passion resonated across many genres, so currently I have published young adult, fantasy, paranormal, dystopian, new adult, and women’s fiction. With both of my kids in school full-time now I am able to immerse myself in my passion more and when I’m not writing I’m enjoying the short time I have with my babies and my husband.

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Title: Dirty Talker Series: Single Dads Club #2Autho...

Title: Dirty Talker Series: Single Dads Club #2Author: Piper RayneGenre: Romantic ComedyRelease Date: June 12, 2017Cover Model: Zack SalaunPhotographer: Wander Aguiar PhotographyCover Designer: RBA Designs Turn-ons…Party girls.Platinum blondes.Zero expectations.I used to think that if you could combine all three into one female, you’d have the perfect woman. The other guys in the Single Dads Club razz me for wearing the crown of the forever bachelor. The one who’ll be in his seventies chasing down young hotties in his wheelchair.Then why the hell does Ava Pearson—an outdoorsy girl, a brunette, and a woman who screams stability and responsibility—seem to be the only woman on my mind lately?Especially when I’ve got enough obligations without adding any complications to the mix—my son, my bar…well, that’s about it. But that’s enough for a guy like me.It’s the cupcakes. It’s gotta be the cupcakes she bakes that keep me coming back for more. After all, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right? Well, it’s apparently a direct target to his dick, too.Did I forget to mention that she’s my buddy’s daughter…another member’s daughter?Ava might say she can handle being friends-with-benefits, but I’m not sure she can. Unfortunately for her I’m too selfish of a prick to care—until I do. [image error]

“Ahh! I knew Dane would end up being my favorite of this series...and there is still another book to go! … I FLOVED this book!” ~Goodreads Review (Angela)

“What a sweet, sweet second installment of the Single Dads Series. Don't deny your sweet tooth and take a bite out of this! Well done ladies, well done!” ~Goodreads Review (Chloe)

a Rafflecopter giveaway Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two established authors for the price of one. You might be wondering if you know us? Maybe you’ll read our books and figure it out. Maybe you won’t. Does it really matter?
We aren’t trying to stamp ourselves with a top-secret label. We wanted to write without apology. We wanted to not be pigeon holed into a specific outline. We wanted to give readers a story without them assuming how the story will flow. Everyone has their favorite authors, right? And when you pick up their books, you expect something from them. Whether it’s an alpha male, heavy angst, a happily ever after, there’s something you are absolutely certain the book will contain. Heck, we’re readers, too, we get it. What can we tell you about ourselves? We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.
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Bad Penny, an all-new romantic comedy standalone from Sta...

Bad Penny, an all-new romantic comedy standalone from Staci Hart is coming June 15th!
Title: Bad PennyAuthor: Staci Hart 
Synopsis 
Nothing good comes after the third date.See, date three is the crucial point when things get real, which is exactly why I bounce out the door, twiddling my fingers at whatever poor boy I’ve left behind. Because if I stick around, one of three things will happen: he’ll profess his undying love, he gets weird and stalky, or I’ll go crazy. Like, Sid and Nancy crazy. Like, chase-him-through-the-streets-begging-him-to-love-me crazy.Seriously, it’s better for everyone this way.So when I meet Bodie, I figure it’ll be the same as it ever was. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t put a single string on me. Doesn’t matter that he’s funny and smart and jacked and can play my body like a grand piano. Because even though I’m built for love, love has only carved me up like a Christmas ham.Resistance is something I can only hang on to for so long, and he has persistence in spades. But my heart isn’t as safe as I want to believe, and neither is his. And the second I ignore my cardinal rule is the second I stand to lose him forever.Excerpt: 
BODIEShe glanced behind me, twiddling her fingers, presumably at Jude and Phil. “So, you’re a twin, huh?” I nodded and took a sip of my Maker’s as “Rock the Casbah” kicked off, and everyone around us started bouncing and dancing. “Since birth.” She laughed. “What a win for the universe that there would be two of you.” “Double your pleasure, double your fun.” That caught her off guard, and her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as a flush rose on her cheeks. Just like that, I had one objective, and it began and ended with her lips. “Although I should tell you now,” I stepped closer, slipping into her space, and her eyes widened, pupils dilating as she leaned into me, “I don’t like to share.” The tip of her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and her eyes were locked onto my mouth. “Are you thinking about kissing me?” I asked. She shook her head, though her eyes didn’t stray. “No, I’m thinking about what your dick looks like.” I laughed from way down deep in my belly, shocked in the best way and turned on in the worst. And as the ocean of people waved around us, she rose up on her tiptoes, grabbed a handful of my T-shirt, and pulled. I caught the smallest breath — a surprised, satisfied gasp — just before our lips met, and fireworks exploded in my brain. The kiss wasn’t soft or sweet; it was strong and determined, those red, red lips pressing against mine, opening to let me into her hot mouth, her tongue finding mine like she’d been looking for it her whole life. The surprise left me as quickly as it had hit, and I leaned into her, my free arm winding around her back to press her body against mine. There wasn’t an inch of space between us, and all the while, our mouths worked each other’s in a long dance that left my heart chugging like a freight train in my chest. She pulled away, her lips swollen and eyes lust-drunk as they met mine and held them while she kicked back her drink and grabbed my hand. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said. And I smirked, breathless. “Your place or mine?”  
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About the AuthorStaci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.  
Connect with Staci:Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovelsTwitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybirdPinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/Website: http://stacihartnovels.comNewsletter: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/   

Title: Break LineAuthor: Sarah E. GreenGenre: New Adult/C...

Title: Break LineAuthor: Sarah E. GreenGenre: New Adult/Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: June 30, 2017
Emery Lawson was on the path to follow her dad’s footsteps. Going pro in surfing had always been the plan. The dream.
Until it wasn’t.

Now, at nineteen, everyone thinks Emery is done surfing and, aside from two of her best friends, no one knows the truth. Emery hasn’t stopped surfing. What was once her dream is now her little secret.But if she wants to go pro, that secret is going to have to come out.Twenty-two-year-old Sebastian “Bash” Cleaton has worked hard to get to where he is. For eight years he’s never had a day off, never taken a vacation. He is the best in his sport for a reason. But the passion that once drove him to chase the waves is missing. And Bash—Bash is tired.When he escapes for a recharge in a small beach town, he never expects to crash into a girl who introduces him to a new life. Secrets, hardships, and relationships come out of this debut tale of starting over and never letting go of your dreams.
Sarah E. Green is a born and raised Florida girl who has an unhealthy obsession with the beach, Netflix, and her pit-mix, Echo. She can be found either at her laptop, working on her next novel, or by the water with her latest reads. When she’s not working or reading, she’s with family, friends, or binging Teen Wolf. 
She’s currently finishing up her B.A. in Creative Writing and minor in History from UCF. HOSTED BY:

Title: Pitch PleaseSeries: There's No Crying in BaseballA...

Title: Pitch PleaseSeries: There's No Crying in BaseballAuthor: Lani Lynn ValeGenre: Sports RomanceRelease Date: September 8, 2017Photographer: Michael StokesCover Model: BT Urella

Baseball is life, the rest is just details. Everyone who’s played the game has heard those words a time or two. But Hancock has heard them his entire life from his parents. His family has lived and breathed baseball even before he started little league.Hancock “Parts” Peters has a name that inspires grins across many faces, but the moment those faces get their first look at him, those grins slide away.Hancock is gruff, filterless, and doesn’t give a crap who he offends. He is the only man in baseball who doesn’t care if he gets an endorsement or not. He’s there to play the game. He’s there to win. He’s there because baseball is his life.People think he’s a jerk.And maybe he is. But if that’s how he has to come off to get people to leave him the hell alone so he can play in peace, so be it. The less people he has to worry about offending, the better.*** Don’t let the fear of striking out hold you back.  Sway Coffman didn’t mean to rock the boat. She was just there to do her job.Sure, she was a woman in a man’s world. Yes, she beat out several of those men to get the job as head athletic trainer for the professional baseball team, The Texas Lumberjacks. And yeah, she now got hate mail from those men.But she’s good at her job, and she earned the position.What she is not good at, however, is talking to men.Men seem to see her curvy hips, large breasts and thick thighs and automatically think she is incompetent. Because surely a fat girl couldn’t get the job treating some of the most fit and athletic men in the world, right?Wrong.This fat girl got the job, and she is proud of it.What else did she get?The attention of the sexiest bearded man she’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.It was enough to bring to her down to her knees…in front of that man, the hot and grumpy baseball player, Hancock Peters.

“Mr. Peters!” Someone called from further down the hallway that led to the field. “Mr. Peters! Wait!”Hancock looked over his shoulder, agitation clearly written all over his face.“I’ve already told you I won’t be doing it.” Hancock informed the small man.And he was small.Maybe not compared to a normal man, but standing next to Hancock the man looked positively minimal.“Please,” the man continued as if Hancock hadn’t even spoken. “This is a multi-thousand dollar commercial that we’ve been planning for months. Surely you understand that we’re doing it for…”“Craig,” Hancock growled. “I am not doing the Harlem Shake. Do I look like a man that does the fucking Harlem Shake?”Craig, who I guessed was in control of PR, smiled soothingly.“Parts,” he held out his hand.I still wondered why he was called Parts, but I wasn’t ever going to ask him.It was weird, and it was also a freakin’ secret. Everyone in the entire league wondered and speculated why he was called Parts. Nobody knew, though.“I’ll be there. But only if I can sit in the back and nobody sees me.” Hancock conceded. “And don’t try to move me, or I’m leaving. Capisce?”Craig nodded his head urgently.“How much time do we have until we start?” Hancock asked Craig.“Oh, about twenty minutes or so. Do you need me to bring you anything to drink?” Craig asked, happy now that he’d gotten his way.But I knew that Craig hadn’t gotten his way.Far from it.If I had my guess, Hancock wouldn’t even be in the commercial.He’d literally stay on the sidelines and make it a point to stay out of each of every shot, just like he did after games when reporters were hoping to interview him.Then there were the photos that featured him in them.None of them were taken with his permission.Other than the one that the MLB used to show his stats during games, I’d never seen one picture with him looking at the camera.“No, no drink Craig. Thank you.” Hancock waved Craig off.The moment Craig was dismissed, he hurried back in the direction of the field, a freakin’ skip in his step.When he rounded the corner, I turned to face Hancock fully again.“What?” I asked, wondering what that look on his face was about.“I’m not doing the Harlem Shake.” He repeated.I held up my hands in understanding.“I’m not much of a dancer, either. You and me can hang out in the back like the losers we are.” I teased.I hadn’t meant that either of us were necessarily real losers or anything, and the moment the words left my lips, I realized how it sounded.“I’m sorry,” I said, holding up my hand. “In no way, shape, or form am I accusing you of being a loser.”He grinned.“It’s okay.” He winked. “I don’t dance. I don’t do pictures. In fact, if I had my way, I wouldn’t even be here right now.”I smiled at him.“Sway!” Someone called. “Let’s go! We have to sit together in the front.”Sinclair, the one man in the entire complex that I didn’t want to see, was standing there sneering at me.“She’s not sitting in the front, Sinclair. She’s sitting with me in the back. We have to talk about what I expect out of her this season.” Hancock rumbled, stopping me with a large hand on my arm when I went to move around him.

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I’m a married mother of three. My kids are all under 5, so I can assure you that they are a handful. I’ve been with my paramedic husband now for ten years, and we’ve produced three offspring that are nothing like us. I live in the greatest state in the world, Texas.
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Jude Sinclair here, hockey player for the Bellevue Bullie...

Jude Sinclair here, hockey player for the Bellevue Bullies and lover of all ladies. Hockey’s in my blood, and not to sound full of myself, but I’m good at it…really good. The draft is within my reach—it’s mine to take—but that’s not the only reason people know my name. They know me because of my way with women. They know the score, and I aim to please. I just tend to stay away from repeat performances. In other words, I don’t do relationships beyond my family and friends. I’m happy with life. However, I should warn you that my story and how I see it playing out is about to change due to a certain redhead on campus.
She’s beautiful. Stunning. Breathtaking.
She’s my game changer.
***
He’s trouble from the moment I see him. I don’t know what I’m thinking, but from the moment I meet his gaze, I’m his. It’s a scary feeling.
I’ve never trusted anyone outside my aunt and uncle—and even that took months. I didn’t have it easy growing up. My mom was usually strung out, and she didn’t give me a second thought. Drugs and the men who paid her were more important to her. It was horrible, but I’m stronger today. Because of my past, security is what I need most. Money assures me that I can take care of myself today, tomorrow, and next month. I don’t want to ever be hungry or go without again, so I work hard for every penny.
Oh, by the way, I’m Claire Anderson. I’m a hard-studying sophomore at the University of Bellevue, dancer for the school dance team, and a burlesque dancer at a club, but that’s my secret.
You may think you know how our story ends, but you have no clue. It’s not easy falling in love… or living happily ever after. At first it may seem so, but when is anything worth having ever won without a fight?
Especially when you’re boarded by love.


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Things are heating up for the Sinclair boys! With one already in the NHL, Jayden Sinclair is hoping to be next!

This has been the toughest year of my life. I watched my brother go into the draft without me, my mom got divorced, and the weight of my family’s issues is heavy on my shoulders. I feel like it’s my job to fix everything while working my butt off in school and trying to make my game better. I have to go into the draft. It will give my family the support they need, and it will prove that I’m good enough. But to get there, I have to show I can be the best captain for the Bellevue Bullies. The spot is mine—no one can take it. First though, Jude is making me go on a brother’s weekend. Innocent enough, I guess…until I see her. She’s the biggest competitor I’ve ever faced. Not only for my spot but also my heart. It’s hard to ignore someone like Baylor Moore.
***
I don’t lose. I can’t. My dad has bred me to be the best in anything I do. I am driven, I am smart, and I am going to be the first woman in the National Hockey League. No two ways about it. I’ve worked too hard. I’ve been through too much not to have what I want. I know I can do it. I will make my dad proud, and no one will stand in the way of that. That is, until I let him in. He scares me. He makes me feel. And he could very well be the one person who can make me want more than just to win.
We both have the same goal. Victory. But how do you compete against the person you want to win? It’s not easy. Love isn’t something you can control. It isn’t like a puck that can be handled by a stick. No, it has a mind of its own and does what it wants.
Neither of us saw it coming, and we really don’t know if there is a way to score, especially when you’re being Clipped by Love.


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Things are out of control for the Sinclair boys! With two already in the NHL, Jace Sinclair is ready to follow in his brothers’ HUGE skates in the last Bellevue Bullies novel…
Jace Sinclair here, and I’m amazing. There is no other way to describe me. I am the leading scorer for the Bellevue Bullies, I’m the captain, and people love me: my family, my teammates, my coach, and the NHL. This is my last year in college–I already have one foot in the draft. Hockey keeps me warm even when it’s freezing. It’s always there when nothing else is. And it pushes me to be the best I can be. It’s my one and only love.
That is, until I see her against a tree with a guitar.
Avery.
The last thing I wanted was to meet anyone. My heart is on the bench because of what happened with my parents, and I don’t want that for myself. I don’t want to be hurt by anyone. I can’t give them that power.
But my heart is begging for ice time, and I can’t control it around her.
* * *
I’ve always been in the background. No one has ever had time for me and that’s fine; I’ve learned to cope. Coming from a family where hockey is life, the last thing I want is some big, burly hockey player charging at me. I don’t have time for it, but Jace Sinclair isn’t one to be deked around.
I didn’t want to meet anyone. I didn’t want to end up freezing the puck with him. It’s not what I want.
I have demons.
I have issues.
Living in the shadows, no one even knew until it was too late. But Jace wants to know.
He wants me.
And that scares me the living hell out of me.

We were so worried about what would happen if we fell, but we never thought what could happen in the process of falling. We never saw it coming. But it’s here, and the repercussions are not pretty. We should have known that there is no way out of the zone when you are being Hooked by Love.

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Boarded by LoveThe Bellevue Bullies Series



Claire

Something is off tonight.

I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know why I’m feeling like this tonight. But as I sit staring at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but want more than what I’m doing right now. I mean, I have a good life and I am happy now, but something, something is missing. It honestly makes no sense; I’m actually loved and happy, so I have no clue what is wrong with me. I have everything I need and could ask for. But instead of being thankful and grateful, I question myself – my life – when I shouldn’t because thankfully, I don’t have to live the way I did four years ago.

I no longer have to worry constantly if my mom will be coming home with food instead of drugs or booze, that she wouldn’t be alone. She was never alone. She always came home with some random sleazy guy that she would make me call “uncle,” if he was around for more than five minutes. And soon the food she hopefully brought with her, usually cold, greasy KFC or burgers, would be forgotten. Instead, shit would get weird in our hundred square foot trailer; my heart would race, and I would be hiding underneath my bed from my new “uncle.”

She had a tendency to pick the supershitty guys – it was like her superpower, one I hope she didn’t pass down to me. She especially managed to pick the ones who liked to touch little girls, but thankfully, I was pretty good at getting away. I was always a kicker, a biter, and a nut-puncher. But that all changed when I turned fourteen – my mom brought home a guy that did get to me.

Because that time I didn’t try to get away.

Wasn’t my greatest decision, and I regret it now, but at the time I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel what my mom felt, because obviously she was feeling something great, judging by the noises she made, but I felt absolutely nothing. I really wanted to eat that day. I hadn’t eaten in four days, I was starving, and he worked at the grocery store, so I figured it was a good bet. I was empty in more ways than one, so I did it to get what I needed.

And because of that moment, for the next two years, I lived just like my mother. Drinking the Two-Buck Chuck she brought home, having sex with any guy who wanted me and promised me dinner. Disgusting, I know. I was basically what my mom was – a whore. And I was living the life I thought I was destined for, living the life I was dealt because no one gave a shit enough to tell me that there could have been anything else.

That all changed when my mom was brutally killed.  

It was surreal, and for a long time I didn’t believe it. I also blamed everyone, I think because I was so disgusted in myself that I wasn’t sad. I didn’t miss her. I was glad to be free of her, but I thought that made me a bad person. I was mostly mad at my real uncle for not saving me when he could. I’ll never forget the moment that my uncle Phillip came into my life. I was sixteen, and I was angry that my mom was gone because of her own stupidity. I was scared that I was going to end up like her. For the first time, survival was not the most important option, and I was messed up. My great-aunt had been hell, putting me in religious rehab, calling me a whore and telling me I was just like my mother, and trying to “SAVE ME WITH THE JESUS.” I just couldn’t go back to her version of rehab with the orderlies that had grabby hands. That was not an option, so I did the most logical thing. I tore her house apart and packed what little shit I had and was gone.

I was walking down the street, getting ready to walk right out of town if I had to. But I knew I needed to stop and think, so I went to my favorite place, the Sculpture Garden in Minneapolis where I grew up. As I thought about my next move and what to do, Phillip was there to get me. He was driving from my aunt’s house, trying to find me, and when he did, he wasn’t going anywhere without me. He convinced me to go get waffles at this diner across the street, and it was there that he told me that he wasn’t going to let me go the way he had let his sister go. Of course, I didn’t believe him. I was used to men making promises they didn’t keep just to use me. But now, three years later, I couldn’t be more grateful for him.

At the time, I didn’t understand how anyone thought a single, twenty-nine-year-old man would know how to take care of an angry sixteen-year-old, but obviously someone knew that he was what I needed. It wasn’t easy. The first six months of being with him were complete hell. I drove him crazy; I tried to sleep with a couple of the guys from the Assassins, the team he played pro hockey for. I tried to push every button I could on him, but he never broke. He kept strong, told me he loved me, and would always be there for me, no matter what I did.

I’d never had that.

My mom only told me she loved me when she was strung out, wearing ripped up fishnets with makeup smeared on her face while she leaned back on some guy, his eyes locked on my small, fragile body. Or when she needed me to go to the store for cigarettes, or condoms, or something. And as I got older, she stopped saying it because I was competition for the attention of the men she brought home. I wanted to vomit when she would say it because I knew it wasn’t true. If she really loved me, why was I living in a roach-infested house, hiding under my bed from the fourteenth “uncle” of the month? Why would I lock myself in the bathroom and cry because I was so hungry while she had lines of cocaine laid on every flat surface in the house, higher than a kite. Why wasn’t I important enough?

I was destined to end up like her, and I probably would have ended up like her – beaten, raped, and found in a ditch – if Phillip hadn’t come into my life.

It wasn’t just Phillip, though; it was Reese too, his now soon-to-be wife. Before, I never had goals; I only wanted to get through the next day, wanting to feel anything enough to sleep with the next guy who wanted me. I used to think that I wasn’t worth much, but Reese helped me to see that being a coked-out stripper like my mom wasn’t what I was meant to be. I wasn’t easy to talk to, but she found a way, and that was through dance. I’ve always loved to dance, not of the stripper variety like my mom, but more like the really awesome, choreographed stuff. I would spend hours watching music videos, when my mom would remember to pay the cable bill, and I would mimic the girls in the videos. I was amazing, and when Reese found me doing just that in her sister’s house, the next thing I knew she had me in her studio learning routines with her.

And soon my dream was born.

Even looking at myself now, that dream still wants to be a reality. I feel it in my heart. I want to be a world-famous choreographer, teaching people like Justin Timberlake amazing routines to perform all over the world, or in Vegas, choreographing shows. The only problem is I’m not sure if it will to keep me safe, stable, and steady. I need that. After years of not knowing when my next meal was coming, I can’t just throw caution to the wind and hope I make it. I need safety. I need stability. I’ve had that the last three years because of Phillip, but I can’t depend on him my whole life. I can’t depend on anyone. I have to work for me.

So while I would have loved to go to a dance school like Reese suggested, I decided to stay home near them and go for business. Maybe I’ll take over Reese’s dance studio, or maybe start my own. The possibilities are endless, and I think that maybe I’m working here just to have the option to go do something amazing later.

“Claire, you go on in thirty.”

I nod without looking as I know the voice belongs to Ms. Prissy, before reaching back to French braid my bright red hair. Tucking it up in the back since my hair is so long, I reach for my black wig and slide it on my head. Pinning down the wig real tight, I start to put on my makeup in a rush. I’m running a tad bit behind since I stayed at the studio later, working on a routine for a duet that will compete in a couple weeks. As I apply my eye shadow in a dark, dramatic way, my hand pauses as the only advice my mom ever gave me rushes through my mind: Never look back, baby. That’s a real good way to get hit, head-on.

Crap, why am I thinking of that? I can’t sit here and think of her right now. I don’t do it often, but when I do, I dwell, and right now is not the time to dwell. Ms. Prissy doesn’t like when you’re late, and I try never to be. I needed a job like this and got lucky when she wanted to hire me. I know that Phillip and Reese would give me the world if I asked, but I don’t like to ask for things. I want to stand on my own two feet, be able to afford my next meal, and working here, I’ve managed to bank more than I ever thought, and I don’t plan on stopping until I graduate. Then I’ll have a down payment for a business of my own or to redo Reese’s. I don’t know. We will see.

“Oh my God, Claire!”

I look back at one of my friends, Ellen, with a puzzled look on my face. “What? What happened?

She didn’t look like anything was wrong, but you never knew with her. Ellen reminds me a lot of my mom. She isn’t an addict or anything, but she sure does love the men, and they love her. With her luscious blond hair, big breasts, blue eyes, and big, plump lips, the guys eat her up. She’s sweet, but outside of work, we aren’t friends. I don’t need someone in my life who reminds me of my mom.

“That asshole I was sleeping with, he gave me crabs!”

I gasp, “What? One of your rockers?”

“Rockers” was what the girls who worked in the Rock Room called the guys who came in there. When the station beside me shakes, I look over to see my friend Tessi rushing to get ready. I shoot her a grin before turning back to Ellen.

“No! Heck no, but because I got the crabs, I can’t fucking dance in there till I get rid of them. That’s like a WEEK! I’m so fucking pissed.”

I nod. I’d be pissed too if I actually worked in that room, but I don’t, by choice. I don’t have to grind on some forty-five-year-old for extra money. The girls in the club pay me extra to choreograph their routines – management does too for the group numbers – so I am pretty secure without the extra dough, plus my tips are fantastic. Some of the girls say they bring home thousands, but still, I can’t do it. There is a difference between dancing onstage in only a bra and undies and dancing naked on some guy. I don’t mind being looked at, but I do have a problem being touched. Hence the reason I haven’t had sex in three years. I feel I did that enough in my younger teen years to suffice for the rest of my life.

“So who were you sleeping with?” I ask Ellen.

“Allen West, told ya he was a sleaze,” Tessi says from beside me. I glance over at her before looking back at Ellen and then looking back at Tessi. I’m confused.

“Allen? My Allen? Tall Allen?”

“Yeah, didn’t you go out with him a few times?” Ellen asks.

I blink a few times, confused. “I am still going out with him.”

Tessi scoffs beside me as Ellen exclaims, “What?! That douche told me you broke up!”

“I mean, we weren’t really together, but we were seeing each other. I never slept with him or anything,” I say, but I still can’t believe that not only has Ellen been sleeping with him, but he gave her crabs. Small miracles… Small freaking miracles.

“Damn girl, I’m so sorry,” Ellen says with a worried look on her face.

I shake my head, waving her off. “Don’t worry about it.”

With a curt smile, Ellen runs off as I sit with my brush still held up to my face. I can’t believe it. Allen West was a decent guy, solid, or at least I thought he was. I stayed clear of guys my freshman year and the beginning of this year, but somehow Allen talked me into a date and then another. The next thing I knew, we were walking across the quad holding hands. We had never officially put labels on each other, but he was fun to hang out with, and I thought that he would be a great guy to end my celibacy streak with, but I guess I was wrong.

“Wow. Just wow. Man, I can pick ’em, huh?” I say with a shake of my head.

“Yeah, I was gonna tell you about that today. Ellen called me last night, but I forgot to call you when I looked back down at my sociology work. I am going to fail that class,” Tessi says as she brings her brown hair up into a high ponytail. Tessi, my friend Skylar, and I are the only girls from UB who work in the club. It’s great money, easy hours, and they let you come and go as you please. Plus we have actual security so we won’t get jumped in the parking lot. Girls who waitress at TGI Fridays have more problems than we do. And make less in tips.

“It’s okay, and no, you won’t fail. I’ll help you,” I say as I watch her for a moment. Tessi gives me a bright smile as I continue to watch her get ready. I’m zoning out a lot tonight, which is unusual. Usually I’m on top of things, helping the other girls who are behind. Tessi never needs my help, though. She’s a lot like me, a go-getter, climbing out of her own issues. That’s probably why we’re such great friends. We both get it. We met at freshman orientation and became fast friends. I am the one who got her the job here. She is a great friend and one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen.

She has beautiful, big brown eyes, with thick black lashes framing them, big breasts, and beautifully plump lips. She has dangerous curves and a really great attitude. Like me, she had lived a pretty rough life, and now is doing everything to make sure she never has to go back to the life she used to live. She’s going to school to be a social worker; she wants to help kids who had shitty lives. She always tells me that she wishes someone had been there for her and me, and I do too, but then I think that maybe it was for the best. We learned from that shit and pulled ourselves together, and going to live with Phillip was probably the best thing ever. I know that it wasn’t ideal for a kid to grow up like that, but I’ve accepted it. I figure it made me stronger. I learned from it and got my drive from it. I’m stronger than any of the silly girls I go to school with, and I like that. I wear my childhood like a badge of honor instead of being ashamed of it.

She turns to look at me and smiles. “You’re not torn up by this, are you? Allen was a dick. You can get someone way better, girl. Don’t sweat it.”

She was right, obviously he didn’t mean that much to me, because I’m not mad or even broken up about it. I don’t even feel like I lost anything. I feel nothing. Surprise maybe because he was harboring an STD but nothing else. I nod. “Nope, not torn up at all. I’m not mad that he slept with someone else while talking to me, but I am mad that he could have gotten my vagina sick.”

Tessi nods sagely as she moves some gloss along her bottom lip. “I would be too. Give him hell, girlfriend, but right now, you need to pop your contacts in and get onstage. Ms. Prissy hasn’t been laid in weeks, and she is in full bitch mode, I can promise you that.”

I laugh out loud as I turn to look back at myself. I still have a lot to do. I wish I could be like Tessi and not care if someone recognizes me in this place, but it always freaks me out that Phillip could come in here, or one of his friends. I’m not ashamed of what I do by any means, but I still don’t like to advertise it. Plus, I’m not a hundred percent sure how Phillip would feel about this. Reese knows, but I’ve never brought it up to Phillip, and neither has she. But really, the thought of some guy coming up to me outside of the club is enough, so I do everything I can to change my appearance.

Reaching for my contact case, I open it quickly, popping in my dark brown contacts to cover my bright blue eyes. Positioning some fake lashes to make my eyes look fuller, I finish my eye makeup before applying some bright red lipstick. Pursing my lips at myself, satisfied with the way I look, I smile at my reflection before standing up to get ready. Reaching for my outfit for the night, I hurry to get ready because, like Tessi said, Ms. Prissy could be a major bitch when she wasn’t getting laid regularly. After sliding the crystal-encrusted booty shorts up over my black fishnets, I slide my feet into a pair of black high heels as Tessi stands up to help me tie up the back of the crystal-studded corset.

“Claire! Let’s go,” Ms. Prissy yells.

Tessi laughs before swatting me on my butt. “Good luck.”

I flash her a grin as I grab my fans and make my way to the curtain. Tonight, I’m doing an old-fashioned burlesque fan dance. I’d seen it on TV one night and then spent the next two weeks researching and rehearsing my set before I showed Ms. Prissy and management at the club. That was a year ago, and now I was the most popular act on the busiest night. I also do pole and regular burlesque dancing, but the fans are my favorite. I send Ms. Prissy an apologetic smile as I run to my mark, but all I receive back is an eye roll before she gets on the radio to let the tech guys know I’m ready. When “Diamonds” by Rihanna starts, I slowly pull the curtains back, revealing myself to the crowd as it erupts with catcalls and men hollering my name.

Showtime.

Oh, by the way, my name is Claire Anderson and I’m a nineteen-year-old sophomore at the University of Bellevue here in Tennessee. By night though, onstage and in this club, my name is Diamond, and I’m the best burlesque dancer at Ms. Prissy’s Gentlemen’s Club.

Nice to meet you.  








My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?

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We are very excited to bring you the cover from the...

 We are very excited to bring you the cover from the final sexy standalone in the Beneath World from USA Today bestselling author Meghan March .BENEATH THE TRUTH comes out on August 8th!  
From USA Today bestselling author Meghan March comes the final sexy standalone set in the Beneath world of New Orleans. I used to believe there were lines in life you don't cross. Don't lie. Don't cheat. Don't steal. Until I learned people don't always practice what they preach. I turned in my badge and gun and walked away from everything. Then I got the call no one wants, and I’m back in New Orleans. What I don't expect is for her to be here too. Another line you don’t cross? Don't touch your best friend’s little sister. She's always been off-limits. Too bad I don't follow the rules anymore.Add to Goodreads 
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Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She's also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she's ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.FACEBOOK | WEBSITE | INSTAGRAM | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE | TWITTER | PINTEREST

Review: Why I Loathe Sterling Lane

Why I Loathe Sterling Lane by Ingrid Paulson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Per her 537 rules, Harper Campbell keeps her life tidy—academically and socially. But the moment Sterling Lane transfers into her tiny boarding school, her twin brother gets swept up in Sterling’s pranks and schemes and nearly gets expelled. Harper knows it’s Sterling’s fault, and to protect her brother, she vows to take him down. As she exposes his endless school violations, he keeps striking back, framing her for his own infractions. Worst of all, he’s charmed the administration into thinking he’s harmless, and only Harper sees him for the troublemaker he absolutely is.

As she breaks rule after precious rule in her battle of wits against Sterling and tension between them hits a boiling point, she’s horrified to discover that perhaps the two of them aren’t so different. And maybe she doesn't entirely hate him after all. Teaming up with Sterling to save her brother might be the only way to keep from breaking the most important rule—protecting Cole.

What I really love about books like this is that at the end the hero has a story that shows he has redemptive qualities. I love Sterling and I might be in the minority, but I found him endearing. He reminded me of a friend I grew up with. That kid that always tugged your pigtails and yet picked relentlessly on you and then fell in love with Harper. Oh, Harper, you're a mess!! You need to throw your rules away girl!! Just let go of your 537 rules and let your hair down some. You probably have a rule that helps you pee. That's how rule focused you are. I know girls like this. When Harper starts to loosen up and give Sterling back some of what he's dishing out...I wanted to cheer. They are both a breath of fresh air. I found a couple editing issues but the truth is - it just didn't detract me enough to go...subtract a star - sure. I thought that the content was enough that it made up for it. The heat between these two was off the charts, but the sexual content was minimal. I thought it would be appropriate for 18 and over ages and maybe even 16. Well done and I would definitely read anything else by this author!!

I was given a copy of this ARC from the publisher on NetGalley for an honest review. All of the above comments are my express opinions and no one else's.

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