<![CDATA[Wild Wordy Women - Blog]]>Thu, 23 Mar 2017 03:15:03 -0600Weebly<![CDATA[Tour for The Enchantment of Emma Fletcher by L.D. Crichton]]>Fri, 17 Mar 2017 05:02:50 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/tour-forthe-enchantment-of-emma-fletcher-byld-crichton.html
THE ENCHANTMENT OF EMMA FLETCHER

L.D. Crichton
Pocket Star EBooks
Publication Date: March 13, 2017
ISBN: 9781501152313
Romance
$1.99

Synopsis:

A young woman desperate to outrun her nightmare reluctantly falls straight into the arms of the one boy who might be able to wake her up in this sweet and sexy debut about finding love while confronting your demons.

After Emma Fletcher is viciously attacked and left for dead, she flees to her old childhood hometown where she’s confronted with bitter memories of her damaged past and alcoholic mother. Emma is determined to make her stay temporary and get out with minimal emotional damage. What she doesn’t count on is Tristan Banks: auto mechanic, coffee addict, and town hottie with dark secrets of his own.

Tristan’s track record of saving girls has historically led to failure. The last thing he needs is trouble in the form of a leggy brunette with an attitude, but when he starts to fall for Emma, Tristan realizes the only way he can save her is to help her save herself.


Purchase Links:

What people are saying about 
The Enchantment of Emma Fletcher

“The character development will draw readers into the story and have them rushing to find out what happens…Verdict:Romance readers who prefer a love story with a thriller twist will enjoy this page-turner. It’s perfect for those jumping from YA contemporary romance to more adult fiction.”

Library Journal STARRED REVIEW

 

“L.D. Crichton has written a compelling story of overcoming tragedy and moving forward. I truly experienced the wide rangeof emotions felt by all the characters, as all feelings are conveyed with genuineness. THE ENCHANTMENT OF EMMAFLETCHER is heartfelt and very realistic…THE ENCHANTMENT OF EMMA FLETCHER is emotionally rewarding…L.D. Crichton has created an interesting story about true-to-life people, and I look forward to more books from this author.”

—Always Reviewing


About the Author

L.D. Crichton is the author of the only official fan fictions for both One Direction and Emblem3, commissioned by Sony Music Entertainment and Faculty Management Group. Crichton has over 7.5 million combined reads on Wattpad and her work has been featured in Publisher’s Weekly, the Daily Dot, Marketing magazine, Just Jared, VentureBeat, and Contently. She lives in Alberta, Canada. Please visit ldcrichton.com, and L.D. Crichton on Facebook and Twitter.


Follow the Tour

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<![CDATA[Book Announcement for Provocative by Lisa Renee Jones]]>Thu, 16 Mar 2017 15:46:31 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/book-announcement-for-provocative-by-lisa-renee-jones.html

Note from the author

Hi everyone!  

I am BEYOND excited to introduce my WHITE LIES DUET! This is a sexy, intense, psychological thriller, that is provocative in every way, thus why I named book one: PROVOCATIVE. And since this series takes me back to my indie roots, the pricing is lower than my New York titles, and the release dates are close together.

Here are the details on the series:

●      PROVOCATIVE, book one, will be out on April 18, 2017 and priced at $2.99 - includes the free novella REBECCA'S FORGOTTEN JOURNALS for those readers who purchase during release week or pre-order where pre-order is available.

●      SHAMELESS, book two, will be out on July 11, 2017 and priced at $3.99

●      BOTH books will be full-length!

●      I'm also giving away prizes on my blog every day in April to celebrate! Entry is super easy. Just comment! The link to my blog is HERE so be sure to subscribe!

And now, without further ado, the covers for the duet, blurb for book one, and CHAPTER ONE of PROVOCATIVE! I can't wait for you to meet the dirty talking alpha, Nick "Tiger" Rogers. I hope you enjoy him as much as I enjoyed writing him! 

About the book

Book one in the sexy and intense new White Lies duet by Lisa Renee Jones!

 

There are those moments in life that are provocative in their very existences, that embed in our minds forever, and sometimes our very souls. They change us, mold us, maybe even save save us. But some are darker, dangerous. If we allow them to, they control us. Seduce us. Quite possibly even destroy us.

The moment I walked into Sonoma’s Reid Winter Winery and Vineyard and made eye contact with Faith Winter for the first time was one of those moments. Provocative because I know at least one of her secrets, of which, I suspect she has many. Provocative because she believes I was a stranger to her when we met, but I am not. Provocative because I sought her out, with no intention of touching her. But now I have. Now I want her. Now I have to have her. But that changes nothing. It doesn’t change why I came for her.

Pre-Order PROVOCATIVE Today!

Read Chapter One Now:

pro·voc·a·tive

adjective

1.    causing annoyance, anger, or another strong reaction, especially deliberately.

2.    arousing sexual desire or interest, especially deliberately.

Chapter One

There are those moments in life that are provocative in their very existences, that embed in our minds forever, and sometimes our very souls. They change us, mold us, maybe even save us. But some are darker, dangerous. If we allow them to, they control us. Seduce us. Quite possibly even destroy us.

The moment I stepped into the mansion that is the centerpiece of the Reid Winter Vineyards and Winery wasn’t one of those moments. Nor were any of the moments I spent weaving through a crowd of suits and dresses cluttering the circle that is the grand foyer of the 1800’s mansion, fancy tiles etched with vines beneath my feet. Nor the ones spent declining three different waiters offering me glasses of various wines from one of the most established vineyards in Sonoma, meant to entice me to buy their bottles and donate money to the charity hosting the gathering. Not even the instant that I spotted the stunning blonde in a snug black dress that hugged her many lush curves proved to be one of those moments, but I would call it a damn interesting one. The moment I decided the blonde silk of her long hair belonged in my hands and on my stomach was also a damn interesting one. And not because she’s fuckable. There are plenty of fuckable women in my life, a number of whom understand that I enjoy demands for pleasure, which I will definitely provide, and nothing more. This woman is too prim and proper to ever agree to such an arrangement, and yet, knowing this, as she and her heart-shaped backside disappear into the congestion of bodies, I find myself pursuing her, looking for more than an interesting moment. I want that provocative one.

I follow her path formed by huddles of two, three, or more people, left and right, to clear a portion of the crowd, scanning to find my beauty standing several feet away, her back to me, with two men in blue suits in front of her. And while they might appear to blend with the rest of the suits in the room, they hold themselves like the parasites I meet too often in the courtroom, those who most often call themselves my opposing counsel. My blonde beauty folds her arms in front of her chest, her spine stiff, and if I read her right–and I read most people right–I am certain that she’s found trouble. But lucky for her, trouble doesn’t like me near as much as I like it.

Closing the space between me and them, I near their little triangle just in time to hear her say, “Are we really doing this here and now?”

“Yes, Ms. Winter,” one of the men replies. “We are.”

“Actually,” I say, stepping to Ms. Winter’s side, her floral scent almost as sweet as the challenge of conquering her opponents that are now mine, “we are not doing this here or now.”

All attention shifts to me, Ms. Winter giving me a sharp stare that I feel rather than see, my focus remaining on the men I want to leave, not the woman I want to make come. “And you would be who?” the suit directly in front of me demands.

I size him up as barely out of his twenty-something diapers, without experience, the glint in his eye telling me he doesn’t realize that flaw, which makes him about as smooth as a six-dollar glass of wine everyone in this place would spit the fuck out. A point driven home by the fact that he’s wearing a three hundred-dollar Italian silk tie, and a hundred-dollar suit, no doubt hoping the tie makes the suit look expensive, and him important. He’s wrong.

“I said, who are you?” he repeats when I apparently haven’t replied quickly enough, his impatience becoming my virtue as my role as cat in this game of cat and mouse is too easily established.

Unwilling to waste words on a predictable, expected question that I’d never ask, I simply reach into the pocket of my three-thousand-dollar light gray suit, which I earned by beating opponents with ten times his experience and negotiation skills, and finger the unimportant prick my card.

He snaps it from my hand, gives it a look that confirms my name and the firm I started a decade ago now, after daring to leave behind a certain partnership in a high-powered firm. “Nick Rogers?” he asks. “Is there another name on the card?” I ask, because, I’m also a fearless smartass every chance I get.

He stares at me for several beats, seeming to calculate his words, before asking, “How many Mr. Rogers sweater jokes do you get?”

I arch a brow at the misguided joke that only serves to poke the Tiger. Suit Number Two, who I age closer to my thirty-six years, pales visibly, then snatches the card from the other man’s hand, giving it a quick inspection before his gaze then jerks to mine. “The Nick Rogers?”

“I don’t remember my mother putting the word ‘the’ in front of my name,” I reply dryly, but then again, I think, she didn't ask my father, to change my last name either. She just hated him that much.

“Tiger,” he says, and it’s not a question, but rather a statement of “oh shit” fact.

“That’s right,” I say, enjoying the fruits of my labor that created the nickname, not one given to me by my friends.

“Who, or what, the fuck is Tiger all about?” Suit Number One asks.

“Shut up,” Suit Number Two grunts, refocusing on me to ask, “You’re representing Ms. Winter?”

“What I am,” I say, “is standing right here by her side, telling you that it’s in your best interests to leave.”

“Since when do you handle small-time foreclosures?” he demands, exposing the crux of Ms. Winter’s situation.

“I handle whatever the fuck I want to handle,” I say, my tone even, my lips curving as I add, “Including the process of having you both escorted off the property by security.”

“That,” Suit Number One dares to retort, “would garner Ms. Winter unwanted attention in the middle of a busy event. Not that Ms. Winter even has security to call.”

“Fortunately, I have a phone that dials 911 and the ability to call it without asking her.”

If she’s your client,” Suit Number One says, clearly inferring that she’s not, “you’re obligated to operate with her best interests in mind.”

“My decisions,” I reply, without missing a beat, and without claiming Ms. Winter as a client, “are always about winning. And I assure you that I can think of many ways to spin your story to the press that ensures I win, while also benefiting Ms. Winter.”

“This isn’t my story,” Suit Number One indicates.

“It will be when I’m finished with the press,” I assure him, amused at how easily I’ve led him down the path I want him to travel.

“This is a small community with little to talk about but her,” he says. “She doesn’t want her foreclosure to become the front page story.”

My lips quirk. “If you don’t know how easily I can get the wrong attention for you here, and the right attention for Ms. Winter, you’ll find out.”

“We’ll leave,” Suite Number Two interjects quickly, and just when I think that he’s smart enough to see the way trouble has turned from Ms. Winter to them, he looks at her and says, “We’ll be in touch,” with a not so subtle threat in his tone, before he elbows Suit Number One. “Let’s go.”

Suit Number One doesn’t move, visibly fuming, his face red, that white ring thickening around his lips. I arch a brow at Suit Number Two, who adds, “Now, Jordan.” Jordan, formerly known as Suit Number One, clenches his teeth and turns away, while Suit Two follows.

Ms. Winter faces me, and holy fuck, when her pale green eyes meet mine, any questions I have about this woman and the many I suspect she now has of me, are muted by an unexpected, potentially problematic, palpable electric charge between us. “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft, feminine, a rasp in its depths that hints at emotion not effortlessly contained. “Please enjoy anything you like tonight on the house,” she adds, the rasp gone now, her control returned. Until I take it, I think, but no sooner than I’ve had the thought, she is turning and walking away, the absence of further interaction coloring me both stunned and intrigued, two things that, for me, are ranked with about as much frequency as snow in Sonoma, which would be next to never.

Ms. Winter maneuvers into the crowd, out of my line of sight, and while I am not certain I’d label her a mouse at this point, or ever for that matter, considering what I know of her, I am most definitely on the prowl. I stride purposely forward, weaving through the crowd, seeking that next provocative moment, scanning for her left, right, in the clusters of mingling guests, until I clear the crowd.

Now standing in front of a wide, wooden stairwell, my gaze follows its path upward to a second level, but I still find no sign of Ms. Winter. A cool breeze whips through the air, and I turn to find the source is a high arched doorway, the recently opened glass doors to what I know to be the “Winter Gardens,” a focal point of the property, and a tourist draw for decades, settling back into place. Certain this represents her escape, I walk that direction, and press open the doors, stepping onto a patio that has a stone floor and concrete benches framed by rose bushes. No less than four winding paths greet me as destination choices, the hunt for this woman now a provocation of its own.

I’ve just decided to wait where I am for Ms. Winter’s return when the wind lifts, the floral scent of many varieties of flowers for which the garden is famous touching my nostrils, with one extra scent decidedly of the female variety.

Lips curving with the certainty that my prey will soon to be my prize, I follow the clue that guides my feet to the path on my right, a narrow, winding, lighted walkway, framed by neatly cut yellow flower bushes, which continues past a white wooden gazebo I have no intention of passing. Not when Ms. Winter stands inside it, her back to me, elbows resting on the wooden rail, her gaze casting across the silhouette of what would reveal itself to be a rolling mountainside in daybreak. The way I intend for her to reveal herself.

I close the distance between us, and the moment before I’m upon her, she faces me, hands on the railing behind her, her breasts thrust forward, every one of her lush curves tempting my eyes, my hands. My mouth. “Did those men know you?” she demands, clearly ready and waiting for this interaction. “Did you know them?”

“No and no.”

“And yet they knew the nickname Tiger.”

“My reputation precedes me.”

“I’ll take the bait,” she says. “What reputation?”

“They say I’ll rip my opponent’s throat out if given the chance.”

“Will you?” she asks, without so much as a blanch or blink.

“Yes,” I reply, a simple answer, for a simple question.

“Without any concern for who you hurt,” she states.

I arch a brow. “Is that a question?”

“Should it be?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not,” she says. “You didn’t get that nickname by being nice.”

“Nice guys don’t win.”

“Then I’m warned,” she says. “You aren’t a nice guy.”

“Is nice a quality you’re looking for in a man? Because as your evening counsel, Ms. Winter, I’ll advise you that nice is overrated.”

She stares at me for several beats before turning away to face the mountains again, elbows on the railing, in what I could see as a silent invitation to leave. I choose to see it as an invitation to join her. I claim the spot next to her, close, but not nearly as close as I will be soon. “You didn’t answer the question,” I point out.

“You wrongly assume I am looking for a man, which I’m not,” she says, glancing over at me. “But if I was, then no. Nice would be on my list but it would not top my list, however, nowhere on that list would be the ability, and willingness, to rip out someone’s throat.”

“I can assure you, Ms. Winter, that a man with a bite is as underrated as a nice guy is overrated. And I not only know how, and when, to use mine, but if I so choose to biteyou, and I might, it’ll be all about pleasure, not pain.”

Her cheeks flush and she turns away. “My name is Faith.” She glances over at me again. “Should I call you Nick, Tiger, or just plain arrogant?”

“Anything but Mr. Rogers,” I say, enjoying our banter far more than I would have expected when I came here tonight looking for her.

She laughs now too, and it’s a delicate, sweet sound, but it’s awkward, as if it’s not only unexpected, but unwelcome, and an instant later she’s withdrawing, pushing off the railing, arms folding protectively in front of her body, before we’re rotating to face each other. “I need to go check on the visitors.” She attempts to move away.

I gently catch her arm, her gaze rocketing to mine, and in the process her hair flutters in a sudden breeze, a strand of blonde silk catching on the whiskers of my one-day stubble. She sucks in a breath, and when she would reach up to remedy the situation, I’m already there, catching the soft silk and stroking it behind her ear.

“Why are you touching me?” she asks, but she doesn’t pull away, that charge between us minutes ago now ten times more provocative with me touching her, thinking about all the places I might touch next.

“It’s considerably better than not touching you,” I say.

“My bad luck might bleed into you.”

“Bleed,” I repeat, that word reminding me once again of why I’m here, why I really want to fuck this woman. “That’s an extreme, and rather interesting choice of words.”

“Most bad luck is extreme, though not interesting to anyone but the Tigers of the world, creating it. You’re still touching me.”

“Everyone needs a Tiger in their corner. Maybe my good luck will bleed into you.”

“Does good luck bleed?” she asks.

“Many people will do anything for good luck, even bleed.”

“Yes,” she says, lowering her lashes, but not before I’ve seen the shadows in her eyes. “I suppose they would.”

“What would you do for good luck?”

Her lashes lift, her stare meeting mine again. “What have you done for good luck?”

“I came here tonight,” I say.

She narrows her eyes on me, as if some part of her senses, the far-reaching implications of my reply that she can’t possibly understand, and yet still, the inescapable heat between us radiates and burns. “You’re still touching me,” she points out, and this time there’s a hint of reprimand.

“Holding onto that luck,” I say.

“It feels like you’re holding onto mine.”

With that observation that hits too close to the truth, I have no interest in revealing just yet, I drag my hand slowly down hers, allowing my fingers to find hers before they fall away. Her lips, lush, tempting, impossibly perfect for someone I know to be imperfect, part with the loss of my touch, and yet there is a hint of relief in her eyes that tells me she both wants me and fears me.

A most provocative moment, indeed.

“Have a drink with me,” I say.

“No,” she replies, her tone absolute, and while I don’t like this decision, I appreciate a person who’s decisive.

“Why?”

“Good luck and bad luck don’t mix.”

“They might just create good luck.”

“Or bad,” she says. “I’m not in a place where I can take the risk for more bad luck.” She inclines her chin. “Enjoy the rest of your visit.” She pauses and adds, “Tiger.”

I don’t react, but for just a moment, I consider the way she used my nickname as an indicator that she knows who I am, and why I’m here. I quickly dismiss that idea. I’d have seen it in those pale green eyes, and I did not. But as she turns and walks away, and I watch her depart, tracking her steps as she disappears down the path, I wonder at her quick departure, and the fear I’d seen in her eyes. Was the root of that fear her guilt?

That idea should be enough to ice the fire in me that this woman has stirred, but it stokes it instead. Everything male in me wants to pursue her again, and not because I’m here for a reason that existed before I ever met her, when it should be that and nothing more. It is more. I’m aroused and I’m intrigued by this woman. She got to me when no one gets to me. Not a good place to be, considering I came here to prove she killed my father, and maybe even her own mother.



Book two: SHAMELESS will be out on July 11th!

Pre-Order notification:http://bit.ly/2nocwgZ

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34602828-shameless




About the Author:

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New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series. Suzanne Todd (producer of Alice in Wonderland) on the INSIDE OUT series: Lisa has created a beautiful, complicated, and sensual world that is filled with intrigue and suspense. Sara’s character is strong, flawed, complex, and sexy - a modern girl we all can identify with.

In addition to the success of Lisa's INSIDE OUT series, Lisa has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Lisa is presently working on a dark, edgy new series, Dirty Money, for St. Martin's Press.

Prior to publishing Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women's Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.

Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at www.lisareneejones.com and she is active on Twitter and Facebook daily.

Connect with the Author:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLisaReneeJones/

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2mvt5TV

Twitter: @LisaReneeJones

Stay in touch with Lisa by joining her mailing list:

http://lisareneejones.com/newsletter-sign-up/

Website: http://lisareneejones.com


Enter the Giveaway

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<![CDATA[Cover Reveal for Wicked Favor & Wicked Wish by Sawyer Bennett]]>Thu, 16 Mar 2017 15:45:36 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/cover-reveal-for-wicked-favor-wicked-wish-by-sawyer-bennett.htmlNew York Times bestselling author, Sawyer Bennett, is happy to introduce a new Wicked Horse club in Las Vegas and you’re cordially invited to attend the grand opening...

WICKED FAVOR
The Wicked Horse Vegas (Book 1)
By Sawyer Bennett
Release Day June 5th, 2017

As the owner of The Wicked Horse, an elite sex club located along the Vegas Strip, Jerico Jameson never spends the night alone. Gorgeous, ripped, and totally alpha, Jerico doesn’t grant favors and will rarely give you the time of day—unless he wants you in his bed. So when the sister of his sworn enemy shows up asking for help, saying no should be easy. But when Jerico takes one look at her and sees an opportunity to help this beautiful woman while exacting revenge on her brother, he’s not about to pass that up.

Beaten and bruised, Trista Barnes is running out of options, and Jerico is her last chance to get out of the mess she’s in. She doesn’t know why Jerico despises her brother so much, but as long as he can help her, she doesn’t care. Jerico offers her safety while opening her up to a sinful world she never knew existed.

As she succumbs to Jerico’s erotic charm, Trista lets herself fall into the wicked world of guilt free pleasure with no regrets. Under his strong alpha hand, she blooms, and so does Jerico’s possessiveness. But what happens when Trista finds out she was a pawn in Jerico’s game all along, and that the price for his favor was steeper than she ever imagined – her heart.

Pre-Order today!

http://amzn.to/2ncAo6P
The Wicked Horse Vegas (Book 2)
By Sawyer Bennett
Release Day June 5th, 2017
STANDALONE
New York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett heats up Sin City when the Wicked Horse comes to Las Vegas. Stop by and visit the Wicked Horse Vegas to fulfill your Wicked Wish and to make your darkest desires reality.
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ABOUT THE WICKED HORSE BOX SET
Never in your wildest dreams could you begin to imagine all the filthy and depraved things that go on inside The Wicked Horse. Step inside to make every one of your dirty fantasies come true. GET MORE INFO HERE


About the Author

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Since the release of her debut contemporary romance novel, Off Sides, in January 2013, Sawyer Bennett has released more than 30 books and has been featured on both the USA Today and New York Times bestseller lists on multiple occasions.

A reformed trial lawyer from North Carolina, Sawyer uses real life experience to create relatable, sexy stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From new adult to erotic contemporary romance, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone.

Sawyer likes her Bloody Marys strong, her martinis dirty, and her heroes a combination of the two. When not bringing fictional romance to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to a very active toddler, as well as full-time servant to two adorably naughty dogs. She believes in the good of others, and that a bad day can be cured with a great work-out, cake, or a combination of the two.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | BOOKBUB | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE | INSTAGRAM 


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<![CDATA[Cover Reveal for Resistance on Ice by S.R. Grey   ~Giveaway~]]>Thu, 16 Mar 2017 15:44:29 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/cover-reveal-for-resistance-on-ice-by-sr-grey-giveaway.html
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Title: Resistance on Ice

Series: Boys of Winter #2

Author: S.R. Grey

Genre: Sports Romance/Romantic Comedy

Cover Design: Najla Qamber Designs

Photographer: CJC Photography

Model: Adrian Gomez

Release Date: April 10, 2017

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Blurb:

Hockey star Nolan Solvenson is nothing short of skilled perfection, both on and off the ice. Or so everyone thinks. His teammates are constantly hitting him up for advice, but really, when it comes to his own life, Nolan can't seem to make the right moves anymore.

Blame it all on Lainey Shelburne, a woman he wants but is determined to keep at arm’s length. That’s why, after a few sexy encounters, he unceremoniously blows her off.

When they’re reunited, facing off against the fiery cocktail waitress becomes the challenge of his life. Lainey is furious with him for dumping her and wants nothing more than to kick him in the junk. But Nolan—typical man—is only interested in getting Lainey back in his bed.

That plan is shot all to hell when they reach a shaky truce and Lainey drops the bomb that all she’s looking for now is a "just friends" relationship with Nolan.

Take that, Mr. Hot Right Winger!

Suddenly, the "know-it-all" athlete is skating on thin ice as he tries to hide his burgeoning feelings from the one woman who has the ability to thaw his heart. But is Lainey willing to try a relationship with him again? Can Nolan resist the urge to walk away?

Resistance on Ice is a fun standalone novel and the second installment in the bestselling Boys of Winter hockey romance series.


**STANDALONE NOVEL** 

**EACH BOOK IN THE BOYS OF WINTER SERIES FEATURES A DIFFERENT SMOKING HOT HOCKEY PLAYER'S STORY**

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ALSO AVAILABLE IN THE BOYS OF WINTER SERIES

 

#1 Destiny on Ice

US: http://amzn.to/2m36sub

UK: http://amzn.to/2gw6m8c

CA: http://amzn.to/2gB66HA

AU: http://amzn.to/2g5yXjW

Free in Kindle Unlimited


About the Author:

S.R. Grey is an Amazon Top 100 and a #1 Barnes & Noble Bestselling author. She is the author of the brand new Boys of Winter hockey romance series, the popular Judge Me Not books, the Promises series, the Inevitability duology, A Harbour Falls Mystery trilogy, and the Laid Bare series of novellas. Ms. Grey's works have appeared on multiple Amazon Bestseller lists, including Top 100 several times. She is also a #1 Bestselling Author on Barnes & Noble and a Top 100 Bestselling Author on iTunes. 

Author's Links:

Giveaway

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<![CDATA[Cover Reveal for Mixed Up by Emma Hart]]>Wed, 15 Mar 2017 14:04:24 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/cover-reveal-for-mixed-up-by-emma-hart.html
MIXED UP

By Emma Hart

Release Day: April 18

Synopsis

Hiring my brother’s best friend was not on my to-do list.

Neither was he.

Expanding my dirty cocktail bar into food was supposed to be easy, except finding a chef in my little town of Whiskey Key is anything but.

Until Parker Hamilton comes home—bringing his Michelin starred chef’s hat with him.

He has no work. I need someone like him in my new kitchen.

There’s just one problem: I hate his cocky, filthy-mouthed, sexy-as-hell guts.

Even if I might want him. Just a little…

Working for my best friend’s sister? Not on my to-do list.

She’s another story.

Whiskey Key was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, except I haven’t reached the heights I have by lying in a hammock drinking cocktails. So when Raven Archer is desperate for a chef, I offer up my skills.

I’m bored. She needs what I can give her.

Except there’s a problem: I’ve always hated her.

Her and her big, blue eyes, sassy mouth, and killer curves.

If only I didn’t want her. 

Pre-Order Links

US ➜ http://amzn.to/2n8GDs6
UK ➜ http://amzn.to/2ji6ICr
AU ➜ http://amzn.to/2ji2avX
CA ➜ http://amzn.to/2jJo61G
B&N ➜ http://bit.ly/2n8w88r
iBooks ➜ http://apple.co/2nr8yRE

Sign up for an alert when the book is live ➜ http://bit.ly/EmmaAlerts


About the Author

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By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

SIGN UP FOR ALL NEW RELEASE INFO! FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

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<![CDATA[Cover Reveal for Seat 2A by Dela]]>Wed, 15 Mar 2017 05:28:32 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/cover-reveal-for-seat-2a-by-dela.html
Author: DELA

Title: Seat 2A

Release Date: March 27, 2017

Add to TBR - http://bit.ly/2mSVyX7

Synopsis 

When Jessie Evans, a Georgia Southern University cheerleader, leaves for her best friend’s wedding the last thing she expects is for the seat next to her to be taken. After all, she’d only canceled Seat 2A hours prior after catching her boyfriend cheating.

Kendal Vargas, son of a Spanish emigrant fashion guru, is on his way to Whistler for a “mancation”. Running to buy a neck pillow before his flight, Kendal bumps into Jessie Evans. Kendal is in a hurry. Kendal does not stop to help her. Kendal forgot his neck pillow and the plane is about to leave and hey—who could travel without a neck pillow?

Charmed by Jessie’s beauty, and watching her board his very plane, Kendal takes a whim and changes his seat to one he hopes would be next to her. Jessie ignores Kendal’s attempt to be chatty but when their connecting flight gets canceled overnight, the pair has a chance to make a real connection.

Seven years later, Jessie bumps into Kendal in the produce aisle of a Portland grocery store. No neck pillow is involved, except there is a beautiful little girl who looks just like him. Fate has given them another shot but will Kendal’s whims keep them apart?

Pre-Order Link


Author Info

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Dela is a rising author in both the Young Adult and Contemporary Romance genres. Her contemporary romance debut, SEAT 2A, will release March 27, 2017 followed by BEYOND THE NEON SHORE, the much-anticipated sequel to her popular Aztec-inspired series, THE 52ND. It is scheduled to release June 3rd, 2017.

Before writing, Dela worked as a paralegal and could be found snowboarding in Brianhead, Utah. She currently lives in Las Vegas with her husband, three kids, and one exceptionally fat Chihuahua.

Facebook - http://bit.ly/2mSThen

Twitter - http://bit.ly/2mjXYuw

Website - http://www.delaauthor.com/

Goodreads - http://bit.ly/2mjWU99


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<![CDATA[Excerpt Reveal from Truly, Madly, Whiskey by Melissa Foster]]>Wed, 15 Mar 2017 05:28:11 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/excerpt-reveal-from-truly-madly-whiskey-by-melissa-foster.html

 Melissa Foster has a sexy new standalone, Truly, Madly, Whiskey coming out April 25th. Check out the excerpt she's sharing with us and pre-order your copy today!

Title: Truly, Madly, Whiskey
Autor: Melissa Foster
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Day: April 25th

About Truly, Madly, Whiskey

A new, emotionally riveting, sexy standalone romance by New York Times bestselling author Melissa Foster. Watch mysteriously sexy Bear Whiskey claw his way to his happily ever after with sassy, rebellious Crystal Moon.

In TRULY, MADLY, WHISKEY...
Eight months is a long damn time to have the hots for a woman who keeps a guy at arm's length. But Crystal Moon is no ordinary woman. She's a sinfully sexy, sass-mouthed badass, and the subject of Bear Whiskey's midnight fantasies. She's also one of his closest friends.

Just when Crystal thinks she has her life under control, scorching-hot, possessive, aggressive, and fiercely loyal Bear pushes all her sexual buttons, relentless in his pursuit to make her his.

The more Bear pushes, the hotter their passion burns, unearthing memories for Crystal that are best kept buried. But there's no stopping the collision of her past and present, catapulting the two lovers down an emotional and sexually charged road that has them questioning all they thought they knew about themselves.

Pre-order now!


Exclusive Excerpt: 

CRYSTAL FLEW THROUGH Truman and Gemma’s front door like wildfire, eating up everything in her path. Her raven mane was soaking wet, framing her beautiful, scowling face as she stormed into the living room. Her black hoodie hung open over a Rolling Stones T-shirt, and her piercing baby blues threw daggers. Her skintight black jeans had tears along her thighs and beneath her knees, revealing flashes of her tanned skin. Skin he’d like to touch and taste and have wrapped around him.

She stopped a few feet from Bear and set her hand on her hip. “Give me a paintbrush, or a roller, or a goddamn gun for all I care. Just give me something and get out of my way.”

They’d finished painting ten minutes ago. Bear chuckled at her vehemence. She was sexy as sin no matter what mood she was in, but this tigress before him made him want to comfort her and fuck her at once.

“Hard night, sugar?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Not hard enough. And I’m not your sugar. I need to work out my frustrations.” She thrust out a hand, obviously waiting for a paintbrush.

He grabbed that delicate little hand and hauled her against him. His entire body flamed. Several months of playing cat and mouse was way too long. Her eyes darkened and her breathing shallowed. Bear was done messing around. This brazen beauty not only wanted him, but she needed him. She just didn’t know it yet.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She spoke in a low voice and probably meant it to sound threatening, but she sounded sultry and hard to resist.

He cupped her chin, brushing his thumb over her lower lip, and the air rushed from her lungs. His hand slid over her hip. She had the sleek, sexy curves of a ’61 Harley-Davidson Duo-Glide, and he couldn’t wait to rev her up and make her purr. “Giving you what you need. A wild Whiskey night is the perfect remedy for your frustrations.”

“Uncle Be-ah!” Three-year-old Kennedy ran into the room wearing a Dora the Explorer nightgown and clutching the Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed toy Bear’s younger sister, Dixie, had given her. She squeezed between them. Truman had rescued his younger siblings, Kennedy and Lincoln, from a crack house after their mother overdosed. He and Gemma were raising them as their own.

Crystal smirked at Bear and arched a brow.

He reluctantly released her. Cockblocked by a three-year-old.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Crystal gave Bear a snarky look as she crouched and hugged Kennedy. “This cuteness is all I need after a frustrating evening.”

 “Why are you fwustrated, Auntie Cwystal?” Kennedy still had a hard time pronouncing r’s, and the way she spoke turned Bear’s insides to mush.

“I’m not anymore, thanks to you.”

“I came to kiss you and Beah good night.” She gave Crystal a tight hug and kiss, then reached her spindly arms up to Bear and went up on her toes.

He lifted her up, and she wound her arms around his neck.

“Thank you for letting me help you paint.” Kennedy yawned and rested her head on his shoulder. “The house will be pwetty for Mommy and Tooman’s—I mean Daddy’s—wedding.” Although Kennedy and Lincoln were Truman’s siblings, when Lincoln had begun talking, he’d called Truman Dada, and Kennedy had said she wanted to call him that, too. Sometimes she forgot and called him Tooman.

Bear ran his hand down her back. It was hard to believe it had been less than a year since Truman had found them. Kennedy had gone from a rail-thin, frightened little girl to a healthy, happy member of not just Truman’s family, but Bear’s, too.

“You’re the best painter around, sweetheart. Thank you for helping me.” He lifted his eyes, catching Crystal watching him with a warm—interested?—look in her eyes. He liked that a whole lot.

Crystal’s eyes skittered away. “Hey, Ken? Where’s Mommy?”

“She’s giving Lincoln a baf.”

Crystal smiled. “Want me to take you up to bed?”

“Yes,” Bear and Kennedy said at once.

Crystal rolled her eyes at Bear and reached for Kennedy.

Bear put an arm around Crystal’s waist, ignoring her glare. “I’m escorting two of my favorite girls upstairs. Deal with it.” He guided her toward the stairs, where they ran into Truman on his way down.

Truman stood eye to eye with Bear, his dark eyes moving between the two of them. His lips curved up and he shook his head. He must have read the annoyed expression on Crystal’s face, because he reached for Kennedy. “I think I’ll intervene. Thanks, guys.”

After he went upstairs, Crystal said, “You can let go of me now.”

“No thanks.” He kept ahold of her as she stalked back to the living room. “Want to tell me what happened tonight?”

“No. I want to paint.” She squirmed out of his grip and he tugged her back.

“If you think I’ll let this go, you’re wrong. Talk to me. What’s got you so irritated?”

“Jesus, Bear,” she snapped. “I’m not yours. You don’t have to protect me.”

He ignored her comment because she knew damn well how things worked with the Whiskeys. More importantly, she knew him well enough to know he’d never sit idly by and let her get hurt. If someone had pissed her off, he’d straighten them out.

“You’re not mine yet,” he conceded.

“God, you’re so arrogant and handsy and…Ugh!” She pushed away. “I just had a rough visit with my mom, that’s all.”

“What happened?” Her not wanting to go into specifics didn’t surprise him. She’d always been cagey about her parents.

She grabbed the ladder and dragged it toward the far wall. He took it from her, and she glared at him again. She was the most stubborn woman he’d ever known. She was also sharp, confident, and possibly the most sensitive person he knew, though she’d never admit to it. Those were just a few of the things he found utterly entrancing about her.

Her arms were crossed, and he was pretty sure if it were possible she’d have steam coming out of her ears. “Can we just paint?”

“Sorry, sugar, but we’re done for the night.”

“Seriously?” She looked around the room, and her stomach growled. Her lips curved up at the edges as she spread a hand over her belly.

Perfect. He whipped out his phone, texting Tru and telling him he was taking Crystal out for a bite to eat. “Grab your bag. We’re going out to eat.” He draped his arm over her shoulder and headed for the front door.

“I’m not hungry.”

He gave her his best deadpan stare.

Challenge rose in her beautiful eyes. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

“All right. Your stomach’s growling. Obviously you’re hungry. Let’s go grab something to eat.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s telling.”

“Christ, woman.” She had no idea how much he adored this side of her. They’d never been on an official date, but they’d gone to grab a bite to eat spur-of-the-moment like this plenty of times. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Great,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh my God. Really? Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to ask a woman if she’d like to go out to eat?”

“Are you telling me to ask you out on a date?” He slid his arm around her waist again and waggled his brows.

“No.” She laughed.

He loved her laugh. It was brazen and loud, like her. “Damn. Thought I got lucky. Crystal Moon, would you like to grab a burger with me?”

She picked up her bag from the floor. “Fine. But I need to tell Gemma. You’re so bossy.”

“You totally dig bossy, and I already texted Tru and told him.”

“Presumptive and bossy.”


About Melissa Foster

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Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance (M/F, M/M, F/F), romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa's emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented. Her books have been recommended by USA Today's book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café. When she's not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.

Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.

Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on Facebook or her personal website.

Never miss a brand new release, special promotions or inside gossip again by simply signing up to receive your newsletter from Melissa.

http://www.melissafoster.com/newsletter

CONNECT WITH MELISSA

NEWSLETTER | FACEBOOK  | TWITTER  | WEBSITE  | STREET TEAM | GOODREADS


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<![CDATA[Release Day Launch for Shade's Lady: A Reapers MC Novella by Joanna Wylde]]>Tue, 14 Mar 2017 06:09:38 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/release-day-launch-for-shades-lady-a-reapers-mc-novella-by-joanna-wylde.html
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From New York Times Bestselling author Joanna Wylde, comes SHADE'S LADY, brought to you by 1,001 Dark Nights! 
Be sure you grab your copy today!

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About Shade's Lady

New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde returns to the world of the Reapers Motorcycle Club…

Looking back, none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t dropped my phone in the toilet. I mean, I could’ve walked away from him if I’d had it with me.

Or maybe not.

Maybe it was all over the first time he saw me, and he would’ve found another way. Probably—if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Shade always gets what he wants, and apparently he wanted me.

Right from the first.

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Excerpt

“Did you get my text?” Sara asked, pushing through the office door. I’d just finished tying my apron around my waist, and was leaning toward the cracked mirror on the wall for one last makeup check before punching in.

“No,” I replied, frowning. “Dropped my cell in the toilet this morning. I called the phone people. They said I didn’t have any insurance, so I’m fucked. I put it on Future Me’s list of things to worry about.”

Sadly, Future Me’s list got longer every day. She was supposed to pay our credit card bill, figure out whether we should break up with our boyfriend, and find a better place to sleep than my sister’s couch. She also needed to lose ten pounds and magically fix the rusted-out Kia Sedona currently broken down in my sister’s yard.   

Present Me would’ve felt guilty about dumping all this on the poor thing, but I only had three minutes left to punch in and start slinging drinks for drunken bikers, so it would just have to wait.

Yup. I’m organized like that.

Studying my reflection, I ran an eye down the length of my body. Tight tank with a hint of bra showing? Check. (Nothing like some boob action to bring in the tips. Not only that, Rebel had said he’d be here tonight, and he always liked seeing the girls.)

Lipstick was bright and shiny, no smudges on the teeth. More eye makeup than I’d usually wear, but ever since I’d started hanging out with Rebel’s biker friends, I’d kicked it up a notch. Made me look wild and sexy. Not gonna lie—I liked this new me. I liked her a lot. I guess if there was one good thing about my sister’s life falling apart—and me moving to Violetta to help with the kids—it was that it’d forced me to change my life, too.


About Joanna Wylde

Joanna Wylde started her writing career in journalism, working in two daily newspapers as both a reporter and editor. Her career has included many different jobs, from managing a homeless shelter to running her own freelance writing business, where she took on projects ranging from fundraising to ghostwriting for academics. During 2012 she got her first Kindle reader as a gift and discovered the indie writing revolution taking place online. Not long afterward she started cutting back her client list to work on Reaper’s Property, her breakout book. It was published in January 2013, marking the beginning of a new career writing fiction.

Joanna lives in the mountains of northern Idaho with her family.

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<![CDATA[Release Blitz for Stolen Tyme by S.L. Ziegler]]>Tue, 14 Mar 2017 06:01:10 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/release-blitz-for-stolen-tyme-by-sl-ziegler.html
Title: Stolen Tyme

Author: S.L. Ziegler

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Blurb

Time doesn't heal.

Time hurts.

Makes you stronger, rougher,

And smarter.

Now that I'm back, 

Xavier Scott can't hurt me again,

Won't hurt me.

I've seen my share of pain,

Felt it,

Owned it,

And released it.

After one look,

One touch,

One tremble,

And I'm that broken, naive girl again.

I want him, 

My body aches for him,

My soul needs him.

But, my head will be damned to fall for that again,

Fall for X.

He stole my heart before,

But not this tyme.


PURCHASE LINKS – 99c for a limited time

US: http://amzn.to/2nnShgf

UK: http://amzn.to/2lWFxLl

CA: http://amzn.to/2ncPo0T

AU: https://1click.bz/2m13QZs

Free in Kindle Unlimited


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ALSO AVAILABLE


 

Borrowed Tyme (Prequel) - Currently FREE

 

US: http://amzn.to/2hlGQBI

UK: http://amzn.to/2h8vGUE



Author Bio

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S L is a self-described book junkie. She spent her whole life with her head in the clouds, dreaming of characters and imagining how their stories will play out. It wasn’t till later when those stories in her head became too much to handle and made it onto paper. When SL isn’t reading or writing, she is spending her time with her two crazy kids and husband. Where they reside in a home just outside of Atlanta. SL is true buckeye fan and lives for the weekends where she can drink a glass of wine and devour the books waiting on her Kindle.

 


AUTHOR LINKS

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorslziegler/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorSLZiegler

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Authorslziegler


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<![CDATA[Release Blitz for BEAST by Mary Catherine Gebhard  ~$150 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway~]]>Tue, 14 Mar 2017 05:46:59 GMThttp://wildwordywomen.com/1/post/2017/03/release-blitz-for-beast-by-mary-catherine-gebhard-150-amazon-gift-card-giveaway.html
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Title: Beast: A Hate Story, The Beginning

Hate Story Duet #1

Author: Mary Catherine Gebhard

Genre: Romantic Suspense/Dark Romance

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Blurb: 

Once upon a time, I thought love was a fairytale.

I thought selling myself to a mafia boss was noble. So what if they called him the Beast? I grew up in rags, and he would lift me to riches. All I had to do was give him my soul.

He was punishing. Insatiable. Captivating. Nothing like I expected him to be. Each day my reality blurred, leaving me wondering if I was slave or princess.

The longer I stayed, the more I lost myself to him. Even after every cruelty the Beast visited upon me, I longed for his touch. Even after every savage word he spoke, I begged for his lips. I thought the worst thing he could take was my body. I was too naïve to guard my heart.

Once upon a time, I thought love was a fairytale.

Now I know better than to speak of happily ever afters.

Beast is the first book in the Hate Story duet. About what it means to fall in love with the person who has absolutely destroyed you, it contains disturbing and graphic situations that may be a trigger for some.

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PURCHASE LINKS – 99c for a limited time

US: http://amzn.to/2mHfUlx 

UK: http://amzn.to/2me8qUm

CA: http://amzn.to/2meaSue

AU: http://amzn.to/2mencKK

Free in Kindle Unlimited

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Author Bio:

Mary Catherine Gebhard bites off more than she can chew. She's lived in Salt Lake City, Utah her entire life, but occasionally goes on vacation from reality. Don't worry, she sends postcards.

 

AUTHOR LINKS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/marycgebhard 

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/YouOwnMeMCG/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/marycgebhard

Website: http://www.marygebhard.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/marycgebhard/

Giveaway:

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