Showing posts with label 2014 Fave. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2014 Fave. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Blog Tour: Grayson by Lisa Eugene





All she needed was a job…

The last thing twenty-four year old grad student Angie Roberts needs is to worry about her new boss’s father. After all, she’s never even seen him. He remains sequestered upstairs in a house that looks like it should be the main feature in an episode of Hoarders. She had no idea the house was such a dump when she took the job. But she’s concerned about the safety and health of the old man living under such horrid conditions.

What she got was a mystery…

Despite warnings not to venture upstairs, she wanders up to the second floor. What she sees is shocking. The man she finds is a gorgeous, sexy, middle-aged man-- and he's stepping out of the shower. But something is definitely not right. Why would this wealthy, handsome man live in a house in such disrepair while his nine-teen year old son resides in a lavish penthouse? Why does he hide away from society? Why does he come to her rescue and then run away?

What she discovered was heartbreaking…

Angie learns that forty-four year old Grayson Whitmore suffers from schizophrenia. Paranoid, he retreats into his own world.

What she ended up with was a treasure…

Angie is determined to get through to him. They form a friendship that blazes into an inconceivable love fired with erotic passion. Angie must now come to Grayson’s rescue because the wicked that has been perpetrated on him is unconscionable. First, though, she must gain the trust of a man whose mind does not allow for such a thing.


When I first read the synopsis for this book, I was immediately intrigued. This book sounded different than what I've been reading lately, and it is. It's fresh and original. I enjoyed every second of this book.

Angie lands a job cleaning out an old house. She pretty much has free reign to sort, trash items, and clean however she sees fit. The only restriction is that she cannot go upstairs. Her boss' father, Grayson, lives in the house and is a schizophrenic recluse.

After a few brief interactions, the two tentatively become friends. Angie draws him out with tasks that she needs "help" with. As it turns out, Grayson is kind, protective, funny, and not to mention hot. He is only in his 40s, not an old man like the assumed.

I absolutely loved these two characters. Angie is strong willed and loyal to Grayson. Her emotions jump off the page. Grayson is super swoon worthy regardless of his mental illness. The author does a phenomenal job with pulling you into some of his episodes and you experience his struggles right along with Angie.

This is definitely the book for you if you are looking for something different. It is a bit dark, and very emotional, but is worth every angsty moment.



Early Sunday morning, I crawled out of bed in search of Grayson. I discovered him upstairs in the room with the books. They were piled all around him as he scratched at something on the floor with an old shovel. The room was saturated with an early morning chill, so thick I could feel it seeping through my skin. I hugged my torso, scrubbing my palms up and down my arms. I approached him hesitantly and asked what he was doing. My heart was in my throat because I never knew what to expect with Grayson. He stopped and leaned against the handle, his cloudy gaze finding my face. He was fully dressed. He must have gotten dressed again after we’d made love earlier. 

“Digging,” he acknowledged casually. “Digging a trap.”

I swallowed hard, emotion stacking like bricks in my chest. I shook my head, my mind grasping for purchase, trying to understand. “A trap for what, Grayson?”

“Danger. I have to be prepared. I have to protect us.”

I reached out a hand, trying to keep it steady. “You’re safe, Grayson.”

His gaze shifted to my proffered hand, but he didn’t move. He didn’t believe me. Fear and skepticism drew a roadmap of worry on his face. His jaw squared and he tightened his lips into a brittle line. I watched his body uncurl as he grabbed the shovel and silently started scraping at the floor again. That’s when I saw it. There was a large, jagged crater in the dusty wood that must have been covered up by the scattered books. It was directly over the small cracks I’d seen in the ceiling downstairs, the network of spider veins I’d noticed soon after starting here. I wondered how long he’d been working at this trap. I could already see exposed beams and fluffy insulation. If he kept this up, eventually he’d put a hole right through the wood floor.

“Go back to bed, Angie.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying with you, Grayson,” I said sternly, plopping myself down on the floor next to him. 

He stopped again and stared at me, his blue eyes almost cobalt in the gray dawn. His hair was a loose mane framing his face, giving him an unruly look. “You’ll be tired. You haven’t gotten much sleep.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, hurting, thinking of the reason I’d been up most of the night. We’d held each other, made exquisite love, bathed in a temporary utopia where I could pretend he was okay. 
But Grayson wasn’t okay, and as I spent more time with him, I realized the extent of his fractured thoughts. My Grayson was funny and brilliant. My Grayson was tender and passionate. My Grayson could melt my heart with the tiniest smile. But this man, too, was my Grayson, a man who was sometimes out of touch with reality, who lived in the distorted world concocted by his brain. It was a world of doubt, fear, and distrust.





Lisa Eugene began writing as a way to mentally escape from the hectic medical world where she has been a practicing nurse for over twenty years. After publishing her first novel, STRICTLY BUSINESS, she quickly learned that readers couldn't get enough of the world she created and now she lives out her wildest fantasies by writing steamy romantic suspense for her fan-favorite Washington Memorial Hospital series.

When she's not plotting her next dangerous, fast-paced, sexy adventure, you can find her juggling a full time job, playing soccer mom, or curled up reading a good romance.

            










Monday, September 15, 2014

Blog Tour: Hostage by




My life is split into two realities. Before Code. And after him.

The first time I saw him, he walked into my father’s bank with the strut of a man who knows exactly what he wants. I saw in him a fearlessness that I desperately wanted, needed, craved as much as my next breath.

Because I was watching him, I knew immediately when he pulled out a gun, aimed it at the ceiling, and fired three shots.

And that is the way I mark my life—before that moment and after it. Before, when I tried to be agreeable, tried to be admired, tried to be pretty, tried to make sure everyone liked me. Tried to shake myself of shame. And after, when all of that fell away. When I just didn’t care anymore.

Before Code. And after him.

I didn’t know then what he would be to me. I didn’t know how he would transform the fabric of my existence. I didn’t know he would move me, reshape me, mold me into someone else, someone I wanted to be.

Afterwards, he would become my lover, my savior, my hope, and my strength.

But, before that, he was my hostage-taker.




Hostage is a very, very good novel by N.S. Moore. I was sucked in to the story from the very first page and wasn't able to put down the book until it was finished.

This is told in the dual perspectives of Code and  Wren. They "meet" when Code robs a bank. Wren is there meeting her father so they can go to lunch when the robbery goes down. Of course Code is a complete jerk when he first takes Wren. I mean he IS a criminal and obviously a bank robber. But there is more to him than that.

There is also more to Wren. She grew up in a life of "privilege,"  never wanting for anything. However, we learn almost immediately that things aren't as they seen with her as well. Because of a past event, she goes through life pretty much indifferent to everything. She wants everyone to be happy and has a problem saying no. She is just drifting through life.
The longer Wren is held captive by Code, the more layers are peeled back. I enjoyed the subtle transformation and growth of both characters. They both start to open up. There is actually a good and decent guy in Code and there is actually spirit in Wren.

There is instant attraction on both sides from the get go. The sex, o.m.g. is explosive and HOT!!! At first, he just thinks he needs to get her out of his system. She thinks she can use sex to distract Code or to soften him up. They both quickly realize that one time isn't enough.

Hostage is a must read! It is not as dark as I expected it would be due to the synopsis, however this book did not disappoint. It's part dark, part light and happy, and so, so sexy. This is a fresh and original book that satisfies my need for a great story.




I wrench my arm away from the guy’s grip and try to run back toward my dad.
I actually get away from him. I think I must have surprised him, since he’s obviously a lot stronger than me. My whole body hurts, and my vision is still blurry, and I smell a burnt scent from the guns that’s so familiar and makes my stomach roll with nausea.

But I stumble away as fast as I can. I don’t make it very far when a strong arm wraps around my middle and pulls me back toward a lean, hard body.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” the guy says—same sexy guy as grabbed me before. “I need you.”

I don’t want to be needed by a bank robber, even a sexy one with a tattoo and a five o’clock shadow. I’m used to going along with whatever people want, but there’s this surge of resistance that suddenly swells up inside me.

It explodes in one choked word. “No!” I struggle against his powerful grip, even though he’s a lot bigger and stronger than me. I don’t even think about that. I just need to get away.

“Damn it,” the guy mutters, dragging me with him toward the back offices again. “Stop your fucking wiggling.”

“Let…me…go!” I throw my elbow back, hoping to connect with something that will hurt him. Instead, I connect with the metal briefcase. The shock of pain is so intense that I momently see white.

He takes advantage of my brief limpness by repositioning my body so I’m even more under his control. “Stay still,” he bites out, gruff authority in his tone, “or you’re going to get yourself killed.” He pushes me down a hallway, after the rest of the crew.

It’s an outrageous thing to say to me. “Fuck you, asshole! You’re the one who’s going to get me killed.”

His arm is now tucked under my tits, and it’s trapping both of my arms. I can’t swing out to hit him. And I don’t have the leverage to use my legs, since he’s half-carrying me as he strides through the hall. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m just borrowing you for a while. So shut the fuck up and do what you’re told.”

My mind is a whirl of terror, outrage, fury, and shock, and my body is completely out of my control.

This guy has control of it. Completely. He says he’s not going to kill me, but I have no reason to trust him.

He’s the criminal. He’s the bully. He’s the bastard.

He’s the one who is taking me hostage.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
If it were me, I’d dump the hostage and then make a run for the Mexican border. But I figure maybe he thinks I’m the only leverage he has if he gets trapped.
Then he grabs me and pulls me to his side, keeping his arm around me. Maybe to someone else, it looks like we’re in a romantic clench, but his arm is so hard around my ribs that it almost hurts.

I know my own strength, and it’s nothing compared to how strong this guy is. There’s no way I’m going to be able to pull away from him.

“Walk,” he grits out, forcing both of us forward.

So we walk that way. Right along a pleasant, downtown street. Like we’re so in love we can barely keep our hands off each other.

Or like one of us has been taken hostage.

It’s all pretty surreal, when I think about it. Mostly, I’m too scared to do much thinking.

No one seems to be paying attention to us. I hear a lot of sirens, so I assume help has arrived at the bank. It would nice if help could arrive for me too.

We turn a corner, and I see a couple of uniformed police officers walking toward us. I can’t believe my luck. If I can get their attention, maybe they can shoot this guy and I can get free.

There’s not much I can do except say something, so I open my mouth to call for help.

I just start to make a sound when the guy pushes me back against an SUV parked on the curb and covers my mouth with his.

It hurts. He moves so abruptly and so roughly that it hurts when my shoulder blades hit the hard metal of the car. I can’t even breathe because his mouth is over mine. I can’t move because his lean, strong body is holding mine trapped.

My heart, my pulse, my vision is all pulsing with fear, surprise, and helplessness. My body is hot and cold at the same time. My arms are trapped between our bodies, but I can use my fingers and I claw at his shirt.

Then suddenly I can breathe. He’s torn our lips apart, although his face is still directly in front of mine and his body still pushing into mine. “Little bitch,” he mutters, his eyes flashing anger. “Don’t even think of doing something like that again.”

I open my mouth, and I’m not sure if it’s to scream or to snap back a reply. It doesn’t matter because his mouth has claimed mine again.

It’s not even really a kiss. It’s hard, punishing. And his hand slides down my bare thigh and pulls my leg up, like he’s really into the kiss. He’s mad at me, so I can’t imagine that he really is. He’s probably just putting on a show for the cops, who must be walking by us right about now.

I’m pretty well experienced with kisses, but this kiss isn’t anything like I’ve had before. My stepfather would kiss me when he came to my bed at night. They were always light and gentle—some sort of brutal mockery of tenderness. Guys always kiss me before they fuck me—usually kind of sloppy and like they want to get them over with so they can get to the main course.

I’ve never been kissed hard and rough and punishing like this.

I don’t like it. At all. I hate this guy like nothing else for the way he’s treating me.

And I hate him even more because my body is reacting.




N.S. Moore has been writing for years, and she loves romance of all varieties—from sweet to very dark. Her first book, Hostage, is a sexy New Adult contemporary romance about two people who find each other in very unlikely circumstances but discover they’re exactly what the other needs.

When she’s not writing, N.S. Moore likes to read, shop, play tennis, and spend time with her family and her dog. She’s currently working on her next book.

She would love to hear from readers. If you’d like to get in touch with her, you can follow her on Facebook or email her at nsmooreauthor@gmail.com.




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Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Blog Tour: Always Rayne by Sierra Avalon



Would you spend ten days traveling the country with someone you despised if he promised to pay off your student loans?

Recent college graduate, Harper Leigh, can barely make ends meet working as the books editor for a new online entertainment magazine, Chatter. With $85,000 of student loan debt about to go into repayment, she has no idea how she’ll get by.

Just when she thinks things couldn’t get worse, Harper’s boss decides to embed her in the North American tour for the hot rock band, Always Rayne. Ten days on the road with the band for her to get an exclusive story. But Harper’s a homebody and the last thing she wants to do is go on the road with a rock band. And she definitely doesn’t want to spend ten days with the notorious bad boy and band front man, Nic Rayne.

When Nic proves to be too much for Harper to handle and she threatens to quit the assignment, Nic decides to sweeten the pot. If she stays with the tour for all ten days, he’ll pay off all of her student loan debt….but there’s one small catch.


Harper also has to sleep in his bed every night.




Always Rayne held my interest from the get go. Harper is a straight laced girl with her first job out of college. She works as a reporter for a starting out online magazine. She's focused on her new job, and to the dismay of her bestie/roommate Brooke doesn't have much of a social life. Brooke is a party girl. She has a lot if trouble staying in line even though she has the best of intentions of doing so. However, she is a character for another review (her book is coming soon.)
Harper meets Nic Rayne, lead singer for Always Rayne, when Brooke forces her to go the Always Rayne concert. From the moment he sees her, Nic wants her. He can tell she is different, that she isn't a groupie. However, he is cocky, determined, and doesn't take no for an answer (in the rare instance he hears no.)
In order to get her, he contacts her boss and offers an exclusive interview ONLY for her and she must travel with the band. He ups the ante by offering to pay all her student loan debt if she will sleep in the same bed as him. Just sleep, nothing more. Harper despises Nic Rayne.  She doesn't like his attitude or image that he portrays. However, the deal is too tempting to pass up, almost as much as the man.
I thought this was a really cute story. I enjoyed watching both Harper and Nic come out if their protective shells. These two characters work well together. In fact, all the characters were very enjoyable. All in all, this was a well rounded story. I can't wait for the next one in the series, Sometimes Brooke.



Brooke and I are wearing those plastic backstage passes around our necks and when two really big body guards standing at the backstage entrance see them they let us pass right through the door. 

As I glance around at all the other people with backstage passes I notice they all look a lot more like Brooke than I expected. All of the girls are wearing ultra-short, skin-tight skirts with barely there tops.
The guys all look like they just stepped out of the band themselves. They’re all young and hot and they seem to know it.

There’s definitely no shortage of arrogance in the room.

“I’m definitely going after Leo,” Brooke whispers to me as we approach the band.

All three of the band members are standing next to each other drinking beers and talking with a bevy of blondes.

Maybe this isn’t the best place for Brooke to be hanging out. She hasn’t been sober very long and I don’t want her to fall into temptation. I have a feeling if Leo handed her a beer she wouldn’t say no.

“I’m getting tired,” I say and fake a big yawn.

“You are not going to wimp out on me.” Brooke gives me a cold glare. “We’re not leaving here until we meet Always Rayne. All of them.”

Nic Rayne looks like he’s getting bored with the blondes. He’s glancing around the room rather than paying attention to what the girls are saying.

As soon as Nic’s eyes land on me I can see his expression change. His brows are furrowed and he looks puzzled. I’m sure he’s wondering what someone who looks like me is doing backstage.

Disappointment crosses over the faces of the two girls vying for Nic’s attention when he walks away from them and heads in my direction.

“You,” he points to me. At least I think he’s pointing at me. When I look around and realize I’m standing alone, I know he’s pointing at me.

Then I panic because I’m standing alone. Where the hell is my roommate? The one who dragged me here in the first place practically kicking and screaming. She completely abandoned me. I also notice that one of Nic Rayne’s bandmates seems to have vanished just as quickly.

It isn’t possible for Brooke to hook up with someone that fast, is it?

This is Brooke we’re talking about. Not only is it possible, it’s highly probable. 

Nic Rayne is now glaring at me. It’s like he can’t believe I didn’t jump as soon as he pointed to me. I can already tell this guy is a piece of work. He’s probably used to getting any girl he wants with the snap of his finger. Hell, he’s probably used to getting anything he wants the second the demand comes out of this mouth. 

I can see him let out an exasperated breath and then head in my direction. I quickly scan the room to see if I can spot an exit but by the time my eyes land on one, it’s too late. Nic Rayne has already entered my personal space.

And he’s not just close to me; he’s practically on top of me. And I don’t like it. He makes me extremely uncomfortable. I’d rather be anywhere than standing next to Nic Rayne. I’d rather be back in Economics class at the university and I hate Economics. It’s the only class I ever got a C in.

“What’s up?” Nic says.

I’ve seen him in movies so I knew he was tall and muscular. I guess it never occurred to me how tall and muscular he really is. The guy is towering over me and I’m not that short. I’m five feet six inches. Nic has got to be at least six inches taller than me.

“Did you see where my friend went?”

He nods but doesn’t say anything else.

“Okay. Would you mind telling me where she went?”

“With Leo.”

I assume he means Leo Donovan, his cousin and the guitar player in Always Rayne.

“Hey, Rayne.” Xander Donovan, Nic’s other cousin, and the band’s drummer, places a hand on Nic’s shoulder. “Pick the girl you want and let’s go. We’re all headed over to Troy.”

Troy is the trendiest club in the city. I’ve heard a lot about it but haven’t been able to afford the stiff cover charge and the fifteen dollar drinks.

“Come on,” Nic says and turns to leave as if I’m supposed to follow him.

He takes a few steps before he realizes that I’m not following him. Then he turns back around and gives me an odd look. “Aren’t you coming?”

I shake my head.

“Why not?” He actually looks puzzled.

“Do you want a list?”

His eyes narrow and then he walks back over to me. He gets so close I can smell his masculine scent and what’s left of his spicy cologne. “What’s the list?”

I gulp. I wasn’t actually expecting him to ask for the list. I thought he’d just get disgusted and find some other girl to go with him.

“Well, you’re not my type. I don’t find you remotely attractive. Or particularly interesting. I don’t like your music at all. And you don’t seem very smart. And I don’t sleep with guys I don’t know. So, maybe you should just find some other girl to take to Troy.”

He’s doing his best to bite back a grin. The smug asshole actually finds what I’ve said funny. I didn’t think I could dislike him more but he’s really pushing my buttons.

“I’m not your type, huh?” He leans in even closer. So close, I can feel his breath on my neck. “I’m everybody’s type.”

I try to swallow but I feel like there’s a golf ball stuck in my throat.

“You don’t find me attractive, huh? Then why are you sweating?” He places his hand right over my heart. “And your heart is beating a mile a minute. Maybe you should listen to what your body wants instead of what your brain is telling you.”

I take a step back and try to collect myself. I wipe my brow and realize I really am sweating. And he’s right, my heart is racing. What the hell is going on?

“I’m not some groupie who’s going to do whatever you want because you snapped your fingers.”

He looks me up and down. “I can see that.”

I place my hands on my hips. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He actually has the audacity to laugh. “No one would ever mistake you for a groupie that’s for sure.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Your clothes are like some crazy mash-up between a hippie and a school librarian.”

I glance down at my flowered skirt and strappy sandals. He has a point. I’m not exactly a fashion whore like my roommate. Not that I have the money to update my wardrobe even if I wanted to.

He steps closer again. He’s got a habit of getting right into my personal space and it makes me uncomfortable every time he does it. When I look into his deep brown eyes, I have the feeling that he’s doing it just to get a rise out of me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. For the first time since we’ve met, he actually sounds sincere.

“I came with my roommate. She won tickets from the radio station. She wanted to see you. And your cousins.”

“I asked what you’re doing here.”

“I guess I’m here for moral support,” I stammer. And I have a press pass.”

I’m not sure why I tell him that. I guess I feel like I need some kind of excuse to be here because I’m definitely not here for the music.

“Why am I not surprised? You look like a writer. Or a librarian.”

I dig around in my purse and pull out my press pass. To my surprise, he grabs it from my hand. “Chatter. Never heard of it.”

“It’s an online magazine. A start up.”

He nods then hands me back my credentials.

“Do you like it?”

“Like what?” I’m surprised by the question.

“Writing. Working for a magazine.”

I shrug. “I’ve never thought about doing anything else. My parents named me Harper Leigh. I was kind of destined to be a writer.”

He’s looking at me with a blank stare. Maybe he really is as brainless as I think. And for some strange reason that disappoints me.

“Harper Leigh,” I repeat. “I spell my name differently but she was a writer.”

He’s still looking at me with a blank expression.

“She won the Pulitzer Prize.”

Then he smiles. “I know who Harper Lee is. To Kill a Mocking Bird. Won the Pulitzer Prize in 1961. She was also good friends with Truman Capote. She helped him with the research for In Cold Blood.”

I can feel my jaw drop.

“I guess I’m smarter than you think.” He leans in close again. “And I’m also a great actor apparently because I had you fooled.”

I want to say something in response but no words come out of my mouth.

“Rayne.” It’s Xander again. “Come on. We’ve got to bounce.”

“Does everyone call you Rayne?”


“Always.”



SIERRA AVALON writes contemporary romance novels with a little sass and lots of spice. She lives in a small town outside of Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and their bloodhounds.