Book Updates

BOOK COVER REVEAL: Cruz Untamed by Tillie Cole

Crux Untamed (Hades Hangmen #6)

by Tillie Cole

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Sia’s story

CRUX UNTAMED (HADES HANGMEN #6) is an emotionally-charged, heartbreaking MFM (menage a trois) dark romance novel. CRUX UNTAMED CANNOT be read as a standalone novel. All of the previous books in the series MUST be read first.

Release date and synopsis to be revealed at a later date.

Add it to your Goodreads shelf now – http://bit.ly/2AAoRCo

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Book Updates

BOOK COVER REVEAL: Sex, Not Love by Vi Keeland

Sex, Not Love

by Vi Keeland

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Model: Fabian Castro

Photographer: Rafael Catala

Cover designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

 

My relationship with Hunter Delucia started backwards.  

We met at a wedding—him sitting on the groom’s side, me sitting on the bride’s.  Stealing glances at each other throughout the night, there was no denying an intense, mutual attraction.  

I caught the bouquet; he caught the garter.  Hunter held me tightly while we danced and suggested we explore the chemistry sparking between us.  His blunt, dirty mouth should’ve turned me off.  But for some crazy reason, it had the opposite effect on me.

 We ended up back in my hotel room.  The next morning, I headed home to New York leaving him behind in California with the wrong number.

I thought about him often, but after my last relationship, I’d sworn off of charming, cocky, gorgeous-as-sin men. A year later, Hunter and I met again at the birth of our friends’ baby.  Our attraction hadn’t dulled one bit.  After a whirlwind trip, he demanded a real phone number this time.  So I left him with my mother’s—she could scare away any man with her talks of babies and marriage—and flew back home.

I’d thought it was funny, until the following week when he rang the bell at Mom’s house for Sunday night dinner.  The crazy, gorgeous man had won over my mother and taken an eight-week assignment in my city.  He proposed we spend that time screwing each other out of our systems. 

Eight weeks of mind-blowing sex with no strings attached? What did I have to lose?

Nothing, I thought.

It’s just sex, not love.

But you know what they say about the best laid plans…


That cover is just oh-so-gorgeous!

Oh my gosh, I think I’m suffering from third degree burns here. Just looking at those smoldering eyes, phew! I could totally see Hunter Delucia in Fabian Castro. I absolutely adore Vi Keeland’s book covers. It’s like your daily dose of eye candy. 😉

Anyway, this new contemporary romance standalone by Vi Keeland will be released on January 15, 2018.  As the synopsis suggest, Sex, Not Love is a no-strings-attached kind of story. For potential new readers of Vi, I’m sure you’ve heard of this scenario before but you’ll be in for a ride. She tells the best kinds of laughter and heartaches in every story. The first book of hers that I read was Bossman and I never looked back.  She’s been one of my go-to author since then and been a member of Vi’s Violets.

Don’t miss Vi’s new standalone for 2018, Sex, Not Love. I swear you wouldn’t regret it! Purchase links are available below:

iBooks exclusive ebook pre-order:  http://smarturl.it/j2uzs2

Amazon paperback: ➜ http://smarturl.it/u257ha

Add to Goodreads: ➜ http://smarturl.it/cx15dj

**No Amazon ebook preorder. Will go live on Amazon on release day.

Sign up for Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when it goes live! https://www.subscribepage.com/i6h3o5

 

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Book Updates

SURPRISE RELEASE: White Nights by Melissa de la Cruz

White Nights (The New Blue Bloods Coven #2)

by Melissa de la Cruz

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In this next installment from beloved author, Melissa de la Cruz, the Vampires of Manhattan series continues on at a breathless pace.

Oliver Hazard-Perry, once leader of the Coven, is now a broken man and enlists the help of his friends Jack Force and Schuyler Van Alen to redeem himself and search for his lost love, Finn Chase, who has disappeared into the sophisticated streets of Stockholm. Meanwhile, back in the city, venators Ara Scott and Edon Marrok’s investigation into a surge of Nephlim (those dangerous half-human, half demons) activity has come to a dead end. As quickly as they arrived, the Nephilim have all mysteriously disappeared from New York. Where did they go? And does the answer lie in the hidden caverns and remote glaciers of the Scandinavian peninsula?

As the sun stretches summer days into white nights, the loyal crew encounters its most devastating trial yet, one that brings everything they believe into question and everything they love into danger.


HOLY CRAP!

Could this day get any better?!

I thought I was dreaming when I saw Melissa de la Cruz’ FB post.  I have been waiting for this book for more or less three years now. Three goddamned long years. Gosh, I can’t wait to get started on this!

White Nights is the second installment of The New Blue Bloods Coven series. The first book is titled Vampires of Manhattan which happened a decade after the original series ended, the Blue Bloods series. I recommend reading the previous series before starting this spin-off because there were some references that would really help you understand and appreciate the story better. The ending will absolutely create a bigger impact on the reader. 😉

Purchase link available:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1973274264

Book Updates

SERIES UPDATE: Rock Chick Series Kristen Ashley

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OH. MY. WORD.

ROCK CHICKS ARE YOU SITTING DOWN?

YOU NEED TO SIT DOWN.

READY?

SHIRLEEN’S GONNA HAVE HER OWN BOOK!!!

*commence inaudible screeching*

Our queen, Kristen Ashley, just announced on her FB page that Shirleen will finally meet her own Hot Bunch! It’s a short story that’s currently working its way in our hands. I can’t believe it’s happening. Omg, I can’t stop shaking. This may be the best news ever today. I think this will yank me out of my reading slump.

Anyway, Kristen’s got a contest running on her FB page. She need a name for Shirleen’s hottie. The winner will have the honor to be mentioned in the  book, a book of his/her choice from the Rock Chick series and his/her choice of a Fortnum’s sipper cup or a Nightingale Investigation travel mug or a Rock Chick Nation martini glass. So what are you waiting for? Give the man a name!

“He’s tall. He’s built. He’s likely in his mid- to late-50s. He’s handsome. And until I get a name, I’m not sure where it goes from there.

Except he’s pretty sure about what he wants.”

Direct link to Kristen Ashley’s FB post: https://www.facebook.com/kristenashleybooks/posts/10155291035449200

Start reading the Rock Chick series: https://www.goodreads.com/series/69392-rock-chick

Book Updates

NOW LIVE! Jacob’s Ladder: Gabe by Katie Ashley

Jacob’s Ladder: Gabe (Jacob’s Ladder #1)

by Katie Ashley

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As the lead songwriter for Jacob’s Ladder, the last thing Gabe Renard needs is a debilitating case of writer’s block. After years of meaningless one night stands, he’s finding it hard to pen the love-filled ballads the label is requesting. In an effort to clear his mind, Gabe takes his jeep off-roading in the North Georgia Mountains. When a wrong-turn leads to him getting stuck more than just creatively, he’s forced to call for help. To his surprise, the “Ray” who has been sent by Hart Wreckers to his aid is actually “Rae”—a sexy-as-hell spitfire in a pair of tight-as-hell jeans. The combination of Rae’s sassy mouth and rocking body might be the inspiration Gabe needs. But for the first time since becoming a rock star, his advances have been shot down.

Reagan Hart has never been a fan of musicians. In fact, just the mention of one might cause her to throw a tire tool. Her disgust for them started when she was just eight and her mother ran off with a traveling country singer, and it only worsened when at seventeen, her rocker boyfriend knocked her up before blowing out of town. As a single mother taking care of her family’s collision business, Rae doesn’t have time for hook ups, much less a relationship. And if she did make time, a musician would be last on her list, even one as good-looking as Gabe Renard.

Can Gabe find the words to prove not only to Rae, but himself, that she’s the only one for him?


Jacob’s Ladder: Gabe is the first book in the spin-off series of Runaway Train. This new series will cover the stories of Abby (Renard) Slater’s brothers. We will also have fun seeing a bit of the original characters. My ARC review will be up in a few, so stay tuned!

NOW AVAILABLE IN THE FOLLOWING RETAIL SITES:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2ysFmTq
iBooks: http://apple.co/2xlanHC
B&N: http://bit.ly/2wN2lHV
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2wIbRvL

JL1.1

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Katie Ashley is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon Best-Selling author of both Indie and Traditionally published books. She lives outside of Atlanta, Georgia with her daughter, Olivia, and her spoiled mutt, Duke. She has a slight obsession with Pinterest, The Golden Girls, Shakespeare, Harry Potter, Star Wars, and Scooby-Doo.

With a BA in English, a BS in Secondary English Education, and a Masters in Adolescent English Education, she spent eleven years teaching both middle and high school English, as well as a few adjunct college English classes. As of January 2013, she became a full-time writer.

Connect with Katie!

Website: http://www.katieashleybooks.com/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2AiOOG3
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/katieashleybooks/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/katieashleyluv
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2xZj2wl

Book Quotes, Book Updates

MUST READ: Hideaway by Penelope Douglas

Hideaway (Devil’s Night #2)

by Penelope Douglas

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DEVIL’S NIGHT is returning! Hiding places, chases, and all the games are back…

BANKS

Buried in the shadows of the city, there’s a hotel called The Pope. Ailing, empty, and dark—it sits abandoned and surrounded by a forgotten mystery.

But you think it’s true, don’t you, Kai Mori? The story about the hidden twelfth floor. The mystery of the dark guest who never checked in and never checks out. You think I can help you find that secret hideaway and get to him, don’t you?

You and your friends can try to scare me. You can try to push me. Because even though I struggle to hide everything I feel when you look at me—and have ever since I was a girl—I think maybe what you seek is so much closer than you’ll ever realize.

I will never betray him.

So sit tight.

On Devil’s Night, the hunt will be coming to you.

KAI

You have no idea what I seek, Little One. You don’t know what I had to become to survive three years in prison for a crime I would gladly commit again.

No one can know what I’ve turned into.

I want that hotel, I want to find him, and I want this over.

I want my life back.

But the more I’m around you, the more I realize this new me is exactly who I was meant to be.

So come on, kid. Don’t chicken out. My house is on the hill. So many ways in, and good luck finding your way out.

I’ve seen your hideaway. Time to see mine.


Hideaway is a romantic suspense suitable for ages 18+. While the romance is a stand-alone, the plot is a continuation of events that began in Corrupt (Devil’s Night, #1). It is strongly recommended that you have read Corrupt prior to reading this.

Buy links below:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2yRPIZB
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2yDkCUo
Amazon AUS–: http://amzn.to/2wt7bGa
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2xSasC4
Nook: http://bit.ly/2xdSivx
iBooks: http://apple.co/2xOQBnU
KOBO: http://bit.ly/2fHnCrq
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2fK7Box

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***

Want a chance to be one of the four lucky winners to win $25 Amazon Gift Cards and a collection of signed books?

Giveaway link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/798545ba4/

***

Here are my book review from some of Penelope’s works!

BOOK REVIEW: Corrupt (Devil’s Night#1) by Penelope Douglas

BOOK REVIEW: Fall Away Series by Penelope Douglas

BOOK REVIEW: Misconduct by Penelope Douglas

Who is Penelope Douglas?

Continue reading “MUST READ: Hideaway by Penelope Douglas”

Book Quotes, Book Updates

CHAPTER REVEAL: Hooking Up by Helena Hunting

CHAPTER 1

Wedding Unbliss

Amie

This is the happiest day of my life. I allow that thought to roll around in my head, trying to figure out why it doesn’t seem to resonate the way it should. This should be the happiest day of my life. So I’m not exactly certain why the uneasy feeling I associate with cold feet is getting worse rather than dissipating. I’ve already done the hard part; walked down the aisle and said “I do.”

My husband excused himself to go to the bathroom several minutes ago and, based on Armstrong’s itinerary for the day, speeches are supposed to begin promptly at eight-thirty. According to my phone, that’s less than two minutes from now, and he’s not here. The emcee for the evening is awaiting Armstrong’s return before he begins. And then the real party can start. The one where we get to celebrate our commitment to each other as partners for life. As in the rest of my breathing days. Dear God, why does that make my stomach twist?

I sip my white wine. Armstrong pointed out that red is not a good idea with my dress, even though it’s my preference. Besides, I don’t want it to stain my teeth. That would make for bad pictures.

I glance around the hall and see my parents, who are probably celebrating the fact that I didn’t walk down the aisle with a convicted felon. And frankly, so am I. My dating history pre-Armstrong wasn’t fabulous.

The sheer number of people in attendance spikes my anxiety. Speaking in front of all of these people makes me want to drink more, which is a bad idea. Tipsy speeches could lead to saying the wrong thing. I check my phone under the table again. It’s after eight-thirty. The longer Armstrong takes to return, the further behind we’ll get. The music playlist, devised by Armstrong with painstaking efficiency, leaves no room for tardiness. If we don’t start on time I’ll have to take out a song, or possibly two, to compensate for his delay and he’s selected the order in such a way as to make that difficult and that will annoy him. I just want today to be perfect. I want it to be reflective of my decision to marry Armstrong. That I, Amalie Whitfield, can make good choices and am not a disgrace to my family.

“Where the hell is he?” I scan the room and take another small sip of my wine. I should switch to water soon so I don’t end up drunk, especially later, when all of this is over and we can celebrate our lifelong commitment to each other without clothes on. I’m hopeful it will last more than five minutes.

Ruby, my maid of honor and best friend for the past decade, puts a hand on my shoulder. “Would you like Bancroft to find Armstrong?”

Bancroft, or Bane for short, is Ruby’s boyfriend who she’s been living with for several months. Recently I find myself getting a little jealous of how affectionate they still are with each other, even after all this time. Cohabitation hasn’t slowed them down on the sex or their PDA. I have hope that Armstrong and I will be more like Bane and Ruby now that we’ll be sharing the same bed every night.

I’m about to tell Ruby to give him another minute when a low buzz suddenly fills the hall. It sounds like a school PA system. I start to panic—they can’t start the speeches without Armstrong at my side. What’s the point of speeches if the groom isn’t present?

I’m halfway out of my seat, ready to tell the deejay, or whoever is behind the mic, he needs to wait, when a very loud moan echoes through the room. The acoustics are phenomenal in here, it’s why we chose this venue.

I glance at Ruby to make sure I’m not hearing things. Her eyes are wide. The kind of wide associated with shock. The same shock I’m feeling.

Another moan reverberates through the sound system, followed by the words, “Oh, fuuuck.”

A collective gasp ripples through the now-silent crowd. While the words themselves are scandalous among these guests, it’s the voice groaning them that makes me sit up straighter, and simultaneously consider hiding under the table.

“Fuck yeah. Ah, suck it. That’s it. Deep throat it like a good little slut. Fuuuuuccckkkkk.”

My mouth drops and I look to Ruby to ensure I have not completely lost my mind. “Is that—” I don’t finish the sentence. I already know the answer to the question, so it’s pointless to ask. Besides, I’m cut off by yet another loud groan. I clap a hand over my mouth because I’m not sure I’m able to close it, my disbelief is as vast as the ocean.

Ruby’s expression mirrors mine, except hers is incredibly animated since she’s an actress. “Oh my God. Is that Armstrong?” Her words are no more than a whisper, but they sound very much like a scream. Oh no, wait, that’s just Armstrong on the verge of an orgasm. But these sounds are nothing like the ones he makes when he’s in the throes of passion with me.

I clutch Ruby’s hand. The next sound that comes from him is a hybrid between a hyena laugh and a wolf baying at the moon. And every guest at our wedding is hearing the same thing I am. Our wedding. Someone other than me is blowing my husband at my own wedding. My mortification knows no end.

I grab the closest bottle of wine and dump the contents into my glass. Some of it sloshes over the edge and onto the crisp white tablecloth. It doesn’t matter. There’s plenty more where it came from. I chug the glass, then grab Ruby’s.

People lean in and whisper to each other, eyes lift to the speakers. A few people, the ones who are probably just here for the social-ladder-climbing potential, question who it is.

“Is the deejay watching porn?” That comment comes from a table full of mostly drunk singles in their early twenties.

Several eyes shift my way as I carelessly down Ruby’s wine and someone asks where the groom has disappeared to.

The grunts and groans grow terrifyingly louder. This is nothing like what I’m used to in bed with Armstrong. The dirty words aren’t something he ever uses with me, mostly it’s just noises and sometimes a “Right there” or “I’m close,” but that’s about it. He’s never talked to me like he is to the woman currently providing oral pleasure. And I’m very adept at oral. Although with Armstrong it’s very polite, neat oral, with no sounds other than the occasional hum. Slurping is uncivilized and a definite no-no.

I reach past Ruby for the bottle of red since I don’t really give a flying fuck about purple teeth right now. As I sink low in my seat I pour another glass of wine, surveying the people in the ballroom from behind the cover of the centerpiece. The centerpieces are huge and excessive and I don’t like them at all, but at least provides a protective barrier between the guests and my disgust, which I’m certain they must share. He sounds like a wild animal rutting. It is entirely unsexy. I have no idea who he’s getting intimate with, but I’m suddenly very glad it’s not me.

And doesn’t that tell me more about our relationship than it should.

It’s only been about thirty seconds—the most humiliating thirty seconds of my life—before Armstrong comes. How do I know this? Because he says, very clearly, “Keep sucking, baby, I’m coming.”

And “baby,” whoever she is, makes these horrific gurgling noises. It sounds like some form of alien communication. It’s way over the top, and apparently Armstrong is loving it, based on the string of vile profanity that spews from his asshole mouth.

“Holy crap. Is this for real? That was really fast,” Ruby mutters.

I guzzle my glass of wine. Then decide the glass is unnecessary and take a long swig from the bottle before Ruby snatches it away. Wine dribbles down my chin and onto my chest, staining the white satin purple. My dress is ruined. I should be freaking out. But I really don’t care.

“Come on,” Ruby tugs on my hand. “We need to get you out of here while people are still distracted.”

My older brother Pierce and the emcee are standing in the middle of the hall, gesturing wildly to the speakers above us. My other brother, Lawson, is on his way toward the podium in an attempt to do something. I don’t think there’s anything he can do to stop this train wreck from there.

Ruby tugs again, but I’m frozen, still trying to figure out what exactly just happened. Well, I know what’s happened. I just can’t believe it.

The sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothes follows. “Thanks for that, now I’ll be able to last later tonight,” Armstrong says.

“What about me?” A female asks. Her voice is nasally and whiny.

“What about you?”

“Well I helped you, aren’t you going to help me?”

“Didn’t you come with a date?”

“Well, yes, but—” God her voice is familiar. I just can’t figure out where I know it from.

“My cousin, right? He loves my sloppy seconds. Speeches are starting. I gotta get back to my ball and chain.”

Gasps of horror ripple through the room, followed by a few giggles. These people really are assholes.

I think I’m going to throw up. I can’t believe he’s going to come out here and pretend nothing just happened. Like some other woman didn’t just have her lips around his cock. His distinctly average cock. Maybe even slightly below average in length, if I’m being one hundred percent honest.

A door opens and closes.

Lawson turns on the mic behind the podium and taps it, sending screeching feedback through the room, making people cringe. Too bad no one did that a minute ago.

Murmuring grows louder and glances flicker to the head table and then away as Brittany Thorton, a seriously skanky debutante, comes strutting through the doors, using a compact to check her lipstick. She’s made it her mission to attempt to get into the pants of half the eligible men in this room. She’s followed, not five seconds later, by a very smug-looking Armstrong.

“I’m going to kill him.” I grab the closest steak knife, but it appears my hasty, and possibly felonious, plan is unnecessary. My brothers leave their respective posts and stalk toward him. Across the room my mother is gripping my father’s arm, whispering furiously in his ear. Great. Just what I need, additional family drama.

“Oh shit,” Ruby gasps.

I follow her gaze to find Bane converging on Armstrong with my brothers. Bancroft is a tank and he used to play professional rugby. I’ve seen him with his shirt off, he’s built like a superhero and he’ll probably crush Armstrong, or at least break something. Possibly multiple somethings.

For a second I consider that Ruby should probably stop Bane from destroying Armstrong’s pretty, regal face, but then I realize I don’t actually care. In fact, the possibility that he might break Armstrong’s perfectly straight nose fills me with glee. Armstrong’s wellbeing is no longer my concern, it’s more about Bane ending up in prison for murder.

“I hope Armstrong has a good plastic surgeon, he’s going to need it once Bane is done with him.” Ruby echoes my internal hopes and her chair tips as she jumps up. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” She nods to the right.

I notice my mother and father engaged in a heated discussion with Armstrong’s parents. I really don’t need this right now. Not the drama. Not the humiliation. All I wanted was a nice wedding. Instead I end up with a husband who gets a blow job during our reception—and it’s broadcast to everyone attending.

Ruby urges me into action. “Don’t worry about them. Get your stuff and we’ll get you the hell out of here. I’ll have the limo meet you by the entrance near your bridal suite as soon as I can.”

I nod and stumble unsteadily to my feet, thanks to having consumed the better part of a bottle of wine in the last minute and a half. It’s amazing how ninety seconds can change a person’s entire life.

All hell breaks loose as more men jump in to either pummel or extract Armstrong from the pummeling. I grab my clutch and phone from the table, gather up my stupid, too puffy gown, and head for the bridal suite, where I had prepared for what was supposed to be the most amazing day of my life. And now it’s likely the worst, at least I hope the mortification level I’m experiencing can’t exceed this. I feel like the foulest version of Cinderella ever.

I rush down the empty hall and grab the doorknob as I fumble around in my clutch for the key. I’m surprised when it turns. I thought I’d locked it before we left for the ceremony. Regardless, I need to get away from everyone before I either lose it or commit a felony. Maybe both. Murder in the first. Armstrong will be my victim. And maybe that horrible skank, Brittany.

I thrust the door open and slam it closed behind me, locking it from the inside. Tears threaten to spill over and ruin my makeup. Not that it matters since there’s no way I’m going out there again. I can’t believe my forever lasted less than twelve hours. I can’t believe the man I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life loving couldn’t be faithful to me for even one day. What the hell is wrong with me? With him? I’m as devastated as I am angry and embarrassed. Once I annul this farce of a marriage I’ll become a spinster. I should probably go ahead and adopt six or seven cats tonight.

“I need to get out of this dress,” I say to myself. I reach behind me and pull the bow at the base of my spine. Instead of unfurling, it knots and I only succeed in pulling it tighter. Of course my dress has to be difficult. I growl my annoyance and rush over to my dressing table where my makeup and perfume are scattered from earlier today. Half a mimosa sits unconsumed beside the vase of red roses Armstrong had delivered.

The card read: I can’t wait to spend forever loving you.

What a load of bullshit. I drain the contents of the champagne flute, not caring that the drink is warm and flat. Then I throw the glass, because it feels good and the sound of shattering crystal is satisfying. Next I heave the vase of roses, which explodes impressively against the wall, splattering water and shards of glass across the floor.

I yank out a couple of the drawers and find a pair of scissors. They actually look more like gardening shears and seem rather out of place, but I don’t question it. Instead I reach behind me with my back to the mirror and awkwardly try to cut myself free. It’s not easy with the way I have to crane my neck.

“Goddammit! I need to get out of this stupid dress!” I yell at my reflection. I think I might actually be losing it just a touch now. I stop messing around with the laces in the back and shove the scissors down the front. I nearly nick myself with the blade—they’re a lot sharper than I realized—but that doesn’t slow me down. I start hacking my way through the bodice; layers of satin, lace, and intricate beading sliced apart with every vicious snip.

I just want out of this nightmare.


My gosh, poor poor Amie! I absolutely hope Bane will rearrange Armstrong’s face. I can’t wait to see who’ll be the one to give Amie her happy ever after. I have a few guesses (or wishful thinking lol) but I don’t want to jinx it! I’ll be good even if it’ll be a new character tho.

Hooking Up is coming this November 7th and the pre-order links are up and running:

Amazon ➭ http://amzn.to/2py0mlj
CA ➭ http://amzn.to/2qzKFJb
iBooks ➭ http://apple.co/2pG28PL
B&N ➭ http://bit.ly/2pGbhrO
Kobo ➭ http://bit.ly/2qzOvBM
Google Play ➭ http://bit.ly/2pGhgwV

Add it to your Goodreads TBR ➭ http://bit.ly/2sExYNs

Click below to know more about Helena Hunting’s upcoming new standalone.

Continue reading “CHAPTER REVEAL: Hooking Up by Helena Hunting”