Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Book Review: Waterfall Kisses

Title - Waterfall Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story
Author - Krista Lakes
Genre - Romance 
Series - The Kisses #9 
Published - May 28th 2015 
Format - Kindle freebie
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When Charlotte Page first met Leo Westbrook, she was a shy, skinny teenager on the verge of becoming a woman. The moment the naked, chiseled Adonis mistakenly walked into her room, she was lovestruck. Leo was perfect in her eyes, and he proved it by helping create a billion-dollar business with Charlotte's brother.

Even before he became a billionaire, Leo always had women throwing themselves at him. But the only woman he really wanted was the one he couldn’t have. Because Charlotte was his best friend and business partner’s little sister, he couldn’t afford to let her get too close. Yet he found himself unable to resist her. With each passing day, her charms threatened to overcome his defenses.

After a decade of being his friend's blushing, stuttering little sister, the man of Charlotte's dreams finally noticed her. After one tropical kiss and a night of passion, her fantasy finally seemed to be coming true. However, when a lie from Leo's past caught up with him, it prompted her to question everything she thought she knew about the man she loves.

Leo always knew that being with Charlotte wasn’t meant to be. Even if she could forgive him for his decade-long deception, he knew it would be better for her if he walked away. Yet sometimes, love is stronger than lies. Will Charlotte and Leo find a way to be together, or will they be left with nothing but memories of their waterfall kisses? 

Review
Charlotte has been working hard on the upcoming auction but not too hard that she was able to play matchmaker for her brother and Ava when they needed her. Now that her brother is getting his much deserved happy ever after Charlotte is determined to get hers he just doesn't know it yet. Charlotte has had a crush on Leo since she was was a young teenager but he's always seen her as the kid sister of his best friend. 

Neither one can deny the attraction and when Leo finally makes his move she finds that waterfall kisses are wonderful. What begins as a whirlwind romance between them over the next few days quickly turns cold as Leo is hiding something. Will Charlotte be able to figure out what deep dark secret that Leo is hiding before it is too late? Will she get happy ever after she's been dreaming about since she was a little girl? 

I like Charlotte a lot we get to see a little of her in in the prior book which features Ava and Bastian happy ever after. She's a little on the workaholic side but a total sweetheart who's supported her brother who she's not blood-related to. I like that has has a kind heart and is willing to do anything for those she loves. I wasn't sure about Leo because I didn't like he was hiding something but he redeems himself. 

I've been working my way through Krista Lakes Kisses series which is one of my favorite sweet steamy romance series. I love that she's created her own little world for all the billionaires to be connected which allow for past characters to intertwine in the newer books. I found that I am able to connect with each character as they steal a place in my heart. I love Charlotte and Leo they are adorable together a long time crush turned into happy ever after. I love the Kisses stories they are quick fast paced loaded with sweet romance and enough steamy moments to leave you wanting more. I can't wait to dive into the next one. 

Top Ten Tuesday

Top Ten Tuesday
Top Ten Tuesday is an original feature/weekly meme created at The Broke And The Bookish. Who doesn't love lists. They make life easy! And fun!! It's always a never ending topic. 

This week's topic: 

Top Ten Books I Liked More/Less Than I Thought I Would

I liked More Than I thought I Would

I've been reading more of the books that have been on my kindle for ages but never seemed to get around to. These are all books I wasn't sure about but found myself really enjoying and continuing on the series. 



1. Xoe: or Vampire, and Werewolves, and Demons, Oh My! by Sara C. Roethle 
2. Moonlight by Tim O'Rourke   
3. Fanged by Elisabeth Wheatley
4. Tales of the Winter Wolf Vol 1 by R.J. Blain

5. Run by Gillian Zane 
6. Fade to Red by Willow Aster 
7. The Sea Queen by Jovee Winters 

What's on your list?

Cover Reveal: Rules of Payne




Title: Rules of Payne
Series: Cake Love #1
Author: Elizabeth Lynx
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Cover Design: Elizabeth Lynx
Re-release Date: March 27, 2017

Blurb
Morgana Drake has a problem. Her boss Henrik Payne. 

He is short-tempered, self-centered, in dire need of a social life, probably an undiagnosed workaholic, and practically unbearable. 

Yet. 

She wants to rip his clothes off. To slather him in vanilla buttercream frosting and lick it off him from toe to head, and especially in between.

How will she ever get ahead at the company if she keeps imagining her boss melting in her mouth?


Henrik Payne has rules. Rules to live by and especially work by. It's not until his clumsy yet curvaceous assistant tests his resolve that he begins to see life isn't all about rules. 

He just hopes he can get through the day without accidentally fondling her.


Pre-order Links
99c for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
BOOKS2READ


Excerpt
Once I was out of the elevator, I headed straight into the bathroom and noticed Ms. Drake was not at her desk. Maybe she went home for the day and I won’t have to deal with her.

I checked my watch and noted the time, ten minutes until eleven o’clock. I had just enough time to give my cock a good spanking before Ken Brooks, the CFO, used the restroom for his daily shit storm. I’m sure Ms. Drake had learned by now to stay away from her desk when Brooks used the bathroom.

My orgasm was quick due to the use of one of my top fantasies about Ms. Drake. I had about ten different fantasy scenarios of her I used when I masturbated, and they were ranked by length of orgasm and time it took to hit the big O.

The one I used was ranked at number two. I would have used the first one knowing time was limited with Brooks nearing, but I wanted to switch it up. Anyways, I used number one in the shower this morning.

Number two was Morgana on her knees in my office, begging for my cock. She drooled as I told her to take all of it. I knew she wouldn’t actually drool in real life, but it’s my fantasy. In my imagination, she salivated all over the Captain.

I cleaned up, flushed, and then ran into Brooks just as I was washing my hands. He was boring as usual. He always discussed the weather. It’s cold. Bitterly cold. Chicago in the winter was frigid, everyone knew that. Why talk about it? He mentioned the sun and I didn’t care.

Once I was in my office, I opened my laptop and began checking my emails. One was marked urgent about the new Denton account. I realized I was going to need Ms. Drake to help me.

Having just orgasmed, being in the same room as Ms. Drake shouldn’t cause any problems. I got up and opened the door to find her with her head on her desk.

“Ms. Drake.”

She popped up and stared at me. Those greenish eyes turned golden as they enlarged.

Here I was boasting about what a hard worker she was, and now she’s laying down on the job.

“Is this how you spend your day when you think I am not in the office? Just lying around.”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally shaking her head at me.

“The meetings for today got canceled, so it looks like I’m going to be here the rest of the day. Come inside my office; I need to go over some things with you.”

She mumbled something just as I turned to go back inside. The words ‘come’ and ‘bathroom’ were the only ones I caught.

I turned back. “What did you say?”

Her eyes darted around. “Uh, let me just run to the bathroom first.”

I nodded my head. “Okay.”

After a few minutes, she strolled into my office. Over the last few weeks, I had become accustomed to Ms. Drake’s stride. It’s average but with a little more swing in her hips and at times, bouncy. Perhaps that was why she tripped more often than others.

But right now her walk was cat-like, stealthy, with a heaping dose of confidence and cleavage. As she took her seat, her fingers tugged at her blouse, bringing my eyes down to her chest where they remained.

I hated it when she did that.

Forcing my gaze back to her face I wondered what I missed. Something was happening and I wondered for a moment if it involved me.

“Are you feeling alright, Ms. Drake? You look pale and you have a funny expression on your face.”

Her fingers continued to fondle her top but her eyes narrowed at me. “Oh I’m fine, Mr. Payne. One hundred percent, grade-A beef, fine. In fact, I think I’m a little hot. Do I look hot to you, Mr. Payne?”

One button. Pop.

Another button. Pop.

She shimmied slightly but enough to reveal a slip of green lace.

I swallowed. Hard.

“Ms. Drake, what are you doing?”

Her lips curved as if she was waiting for those exact words to tumble out of my mouth. I got the feeling she wanted something. I also got the feeling I would give it to her. My hand slipped to my lap as I adjusted my cock already stirring from his earlier binge.

He was insatiable.

“I was in the bathroom a little while ago.”

I nodded. “I know you asked to use it before we had this meeting.”

Did I drop something in there? Maybe she heard me talking to Brooks and wants in on that top-secret conversation about the sunny sky in winter.

I tried to hide my laughter.

“No, before.”

What was she talking about? This woman was sexy and smart, but right now she might as well have been…wait, I think I got her meaning.

“The women’s bathroom you mean, right, Ms. Drake?” My eyes pleaded with her to open her mouth and say ‘yes, the women’s bathroom.' Why would she not use the women’s restroom? That would be ridiculous, especially so close to Brooks’ time.

Her head turned slowly from side to side in a tormenting no. “No, the men’s. The woman’s restroom was being cleaned so I had to use the men’s. You know, the one where you wanted me to take all of your cock.”

Author Bio
Elizabeth Lynx writes romantic comedy with steam. She's a recovering comedian. Wife and mother of the male species. Believer in love & laughter. Her life consists of preventing small catastrophes and wondering if a day will exist when she doesn't have to fold laundry.

Author Links

Release Blitz: Scars and Tats




Title: Scars and Tats
Author: Kristi Pelton
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 21, 2017

Blurb

Scars are tattoos with better stories… 

A scarred, lonely woman
A curious little boy
One uninvited, tattooed guest
A nasty blizzard
One cabin
Two guns

A set of handcuffs 

What could possibly go wrong? 

Mela McKinley fled with her infant son and disappeared four years ago trying to heal the awful scars inside and out. Taking refuge in the mountains of Colorado, not one person had come near their secluded doorstep… though she was prepared for a fight. 

In the middle of a historic blizzard, little Beck points out the window to a figure approaching in the snow. After hiding Beck…and fully armed, Mela confronts Jackson Winslow and has zero reservations about shooting him, if necessary. 

Ultimately, saving him from the forces of nature, she takes the uninvited stranger prisoner in her home holding the upper hand. While cautiously tending to him, she realizes how much she has missed a man—though this scarred and tattooed man is not who he seems. Once he has invaded her thoughts in a delicious way, her guard is down and suddenly, the tables are turned and now…it’s his turn.

What she doesn’t know is who he really is and what he brings to her doorstep.



Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU


Trailer



Excerpt

If only it were still Christmas, I thought, in awe of the amount of snow that had fallen through the morning hours this spring. Beck in his newly four-year-old way pressed his forehead against the floor-to-ceiling window, watching in wonder as his breath formed a pillow of condensation that quickly disappeared. Over and over again.

The teakettle whistled, and I fingered through his hair as I walked past.

“Momma. Snow.”

I laughed. “Yes, buddy. Lots of snow.”

The whistle of the kettle faded when I pulled it from the heat, pouring Beck a hot chocolate and me my tea. The two ice cubes in his mug began to melt instantly.

“Momma, Layne.”

Stirring honey into my tea, I put one more ice cube in his cup and carried the miniature marshmallows over to him.

“No, buddy. We won’t see Layne today,” I explained, sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, which needed wood.

“Layne is right there,” he said, tapping the window.

A sudden chill shuddered up my spine as the hair on the back of my neck stood. In slow motion, my eyes moved to where Beck pointed. The figure stood a hundred yards away, thigh deep in snow. My heart began to pound. The pack on his back showed over his shoulders. I watched through the glass as the steps he tried to take led him in the direction of the cabin.

Sitting my mug on the end table, a jolt of panic shot through me but was quickly calmed by a wave of courage—of confidence.

“Beck. Come here. Now.” My words were terse, and he immediately padded over to me.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know who this is, and my job is what?”

“To protect me?” he asked.

“Yes.” I nodded. “To protect you. Always.”

He smiled.

“Go. Go now to your cubbyhole. You know where your food is. You know where the water bottles are. You don’t come out until Mommy comes to get you.”

“Or Layne!” he shouted.

“Yes. Or Layne. But you and Layne have a code word and no one else knows that word. So don’t come out unless you hear that word. Got it?” Tears started to sting my eyes, but I fought with every ounce of my being not let them win.

“Yes. Go now?”

“Yep! Go now, buddy. I love you.”

“I love you more!” he yelled as he ran to his hiding spot.

The moment he was gone from my view, I turned my sights on our visitor. Thank God the snow was causing him to struggle. I unhinged the loaded shotgun from the back of the front door, then retrieved the forty-caliber from behind the coffee mugs. Both guns were pumped and cocked with the chambers full in a matter of seconds. Without a coat, I stepped out onto the porch.

“Turn around right now and go back the way you came. Follow your tracks!” I yelled.

He stopped, held his hands out to the side and swayed a bit in the wind. “I need help.” His voice was muffled from the scarf covering his mouth.

“You won’t find that here. Move along,” I shouted, then tucked the pistol into my pants. Raising the shotgun to my shoulder, I nestled it tight, resting my cheek against the cold steel while I sighted him down the barrel. The pistol would be a better choice—but the shotgun may have more effect. Rock’s mom had taught me well.

“Please,” he said weakly, swaying again.

I watched as the snow cascaded. There was no wind.

“Mister. I’m warning you now. Don’t come closer.”

After another strenuous step in the near three-foot-deep snow, he stumbled backward—falling. He lay there for a minute. Hurriedly, I seized the opportunity to grab the binoculars—Beck’s toy, plastic ones, but they worked nonetheless.

Bursts of steam puffed from his mouth straight into the air. One hand rose weakly, then collapsed back down, disappearing into the powdery snow. Through the scratched-up binoculars, I watched as he mustered up enough energy to heave himself upright. Still sitting, he pulled the scarf away from his mouth exposing red, swollen lips. Quickly, I lowered the binoculars, taking him in more thoroughly. His shoes and legs were hidden in the snow. Chunks of snow clung to the North Face jacket he wore. His eyes were heavy…thick lids blinked deliberately and sluggishly.

Snow fell so heavily…a thin blanket covered him in the minute I stood frozen. Making a hasty decision, I dashed into the house once again and grabbed the handcuffs Rock’s mom had given me. From the time I darted inside to when I got back out, he hadn’t moved. Just inside the door, I clicked my snowshoes in place and threw my coat on. The pistol tucked tightly into my waistband, handcuffs in my coat pocket, and ski poles in hand…I began my trek toward him.

When I purchased the snowshoes, I had no real intention of wearing them too terribly much but they’d been on my feet more than I thought they would. Our unwanted visitor was still on his back with little to no movement. His breaths were visible in the puffs of steam in the air.

“Please don’t shoot me,” he begged albeit weakly.

“Why are you here?”

“I got caught in the storm.”

Frozen snot trailed over his upper lip.

“Why were you out here? I mean to begin with. What brought you here? There’re no trails this way.” My demanding questions spewed out quickly.

The puffs of air turned to short raspy pants.

“Lost. I…just…wanted—to get lost.”

I didn’t believe him. Anger consumed me as my hand trembled when I reached to touch him. Be strong always. The second my fingertips brushed his fiery skin; I sucked in a quick breath. He was burning up. Fever. Damn it!

Instantly, I turned around hoofing it back to the cabin and yanked Becks sled out of the corner of the front porch. Within a minute, I was back at his side. A low groan slid up his throat as I lifted him by the shoulders and scooted his upper body onto the sled. After I’d boosted his legs over, I began the trek back to the cabin remembering Beck was still in hiding. My quads and glutes burned from the haul.

Once I pulled him to the porch clearing the steps, I took a minute to breathe. Thank God, I’d trained enough to be able to heave his ass up there. He seemed to have lost consciousness at some point because as I cuffed him, he didn’t flinch. It wasn’t until I’d lugged him inside next to the fire that I exposed his hands—finding bluish tinted fingers. Instinctively, I blew on them as if they were Beck’s little fingers and I’d done that a hundred times when he’d gotten cold. How could this man’s fingers be so cold yet he was burning up with fever?

I tossed his gloves near the fire so they could dry out and warm up. The sooner I could get him out of here, the better. His fingers were swollen.

I hustled toward the hideout. “Beck!” I shouted with a whisper. “WOD. It’s ok. Come here. Mommy needs your help.”

When I pulled off the man’s stocking cap, I was captivated for a moment by his face. Though his cheeks appeared sunken in and dark rings circled his eyes, he was a beautifully, rugged man. His thick brows matched the overgrown beard. The tip of his nose was shiny and bright.

“Mommy. Who is that?”

Directing my attention toward Beck, I gave him a serious look.

“This man is sick. I need you to get me two of your cereal bowls of warm water. Not hot, ok?”

He nodded eagerly, and I watched him grab his stool and heave it into the kitchen. I felt awful keeping the man handcuffed, but I couldn’t take a chance with someone I didn’t know. I heard the water running in the kitchen and, in this moment, I was proud of the way I’d raised Beck. He needed to be independent if necessary—even if at barely four years old.

Hustling to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, I grabbed the lip butter and the ibuprofen. I darted to the kitchen and snagged a bottle of water from the fridge.

“How’s it going?”

“Good,” Beck said, walking slowly trying not to spill any water from his miniature cereal bowls—his tiny hands could barely manage.

We met near the visitor. I took the bowls from Beck.

“Nice job, buddy. Thank you.”

When Beck knelt next to him, my heart skipped a beat. Gripping Beck’s shoulders, I shook him just enough to keep his attention and for him to realize I meant business.

“We don’t know him, Beck. You must keep your distance from him. Deal?”

He nodded, backing up. “Pickle,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “You are so silly. It’s dill not deal.”

My beautiful son smiled, then found a seat on the sofa.

Kneeling next to the stranger, I balanced the bowls of water on his thighs, and then rested his fingers in the water. I tipped his head, angling his neck so his face pointed toward the ceiling. I attempted to pour some of the water through his parted lips. He instantly sputtered and choked—liquid coming back out, but thankfully his eyes opened.

“Mister,” I said.

His glossy eyes tried to focus.

“I need you to swallow this.” I kept his head upright, dropped three ibuprofen into his mouth and then tipped the bottle to his lips. When I saw his Adam’s apple jut out and back in, I knew he’d swallowed them. That was a start.

“Mommy. What’s his name?” Beck asked from the sofa.

His jeans were wet. Jeans? How ill prepared was this idiot for the storm? After I moved the bowls of water, I unfastened his jeans and began tugging them off. The elastic band of his underwear read Armani. Perfect…wealthy and dumb.

I fought looking at his crotch but the damn trunks hugged him tightly, and honestly, there was no ignoring the relaxed bulge. Once I had his jeans off, I laid them out in front of the fire, adding more wood, and then covered his lower half with a quilt. Out of sight, out of mind. And I certainly didn’t need Beck asking questions.

His lips were in pretty bad condition so I slathered a thick layer of the lip butter over them. His lower lip was full…plump. Jesus… narcolepsy really wasn’t my thing. But, hey, he was only unconscious not dead

“Mommy. What’s his name?”

“I’m sorry, Beck. I don’t know. Hold on a sec.”

I reached for his jeans, and, sure enough, the back pocket held a wallet. When I opened it, a Colorado driver’s license lay behind a thin piece of plastic.

“His name is Jackson,” I announced. “Jackson Winslow,” I whispered beneath my breath and stole a long glance at our bearded stranger.

For the first time, I noticed his hair was longer on one side. This man…this stranger was stunningly handsome. Ruggedly beautiful. I shook my head trying to erase any desire. It had been so long since I had felt the touch of a man. Yet, this man could have been sent here to find us…to hurt us…to take Beck. He was off limits.

Night was falling and the moon cast a beautiful reflection off the three-foot blanket of snow. Beck and I played checkers at the kitchen table. The flickering light of the fireplace flung shadows over the walls. Our stranger seemed to be resting peacefully.

Even though I felt bad for him being cuffed, my sole purpose for living sat across from me, and I had to do whatever was necessary to protect him.

“Buddy. Want to sleep in the hideout?”

Beck’s eyes about bulged out of his head.

“Can I?”

I stood up. “Yep. Let’s get you in there and situated.”

Beck hopped out of his chair, dashing up to his room. There wasn’t anything that could make me smile bigger than witnessing his enthusiasm for life. The boy was a spitting image of his father. Most days that was good.

There was no way of knowing or even speculating what the night could hold…so I told Beck he could come out if he needed.

Once he was hunkered down under his covers, inside his tent, with his night light on…I closed the door. I hustled to my bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, threw on my comfy sweats to sleep in, then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before I stared blankly at the heap of man on my living room floor.

When my eyes finally adjusted to the glow from the fireplace, I noticed Jackson twitching. As I crept closer, I saw he wasn’t twitching; his body shook with tremors. Instinctively, the back of my fingers felt his forehead. Wow. He was burning up. Again.

Immediately, I ran to the kitchen, wetting a rag with cold water. Back in the living room, his eyes shot wide as the cold material made contact with his skin.

A small groan echoed up his throat, but as fast as his eyes opened, they closed. Without thinking, I yanked all the covers off of his body. I hated the ignorance of the—smother the fever philosophy. His body needed to cool down…quickly. Leaving him uncovered and with the cloth on his forehead, I got another bottle of water and snatched both the ibuprofen and the thermometer from the cupboard.

When I slid the digital thermometer between his lips, I realized some of the redness was gone. The lip butter was helping. Once again, his eyes opened. For the briefest of moments, our eyes met before his closed again.

At 104, the thermometer stopped blinking.

“Wow,” I whispered out loud, turning the cloth on his forehead to the cooler side.

“Wow,” he moaned or ow, I’m not sure which, but it caused me to sit back a bit, distancing myself. “Aaah.”

My stranger seemed delirious. The fever. It had to be the fever.

“Jackson. I need you to swallow these.” I lifted his head and slid my folded legs beneath him. I dropped four capsules in his mouth, then as gently as possible, I slapped his cheek…his beard was rough to my fingers, but regardless, his eyes opened.

I tipped the cold bottle of water to his lips. “Swallow,” I demanded, and he did. And once again, our eyes connected. Even though I stared down at him, and he was upside down to me, the force of whatever passed between us triggered me to drop his head and jerk away.

What the living hell? Did I know him? My left hand trembled as I set the water bottle next to him. Not that he could drink it. Both his hands were bound by metal. The clock read 10:15. The fever should be down within an hour. I’d check on him them. Other than that, I wanted nothing to do with him.

Sitting on the sofa, my eyes flickered back and forth between the fire and him. I heard Layne’s words in my ear. Information is good. Always find out what you can. I uncovered and picked up Jackson’s wallet from where I left it earlier.

Colorado drivers license. His picture was perfect. Who’s drivers license pic looked that good? Thirty-one years old. Six foot two. One hundred ninety pounds. Blue eyes. Organ donor. Ian was an organ donor and I had no idea if his organs were donated. If he was living inside someone else…

This man had no pictures of girls, family, kids, no pictures at all.

One Visa card.

One American Express card.

And some sort of ID. His picture—he looked younger but still strikingly handsome. United States Attorney. This man was an attorney. My mind raced in a thousand directions. I dropped his wallet at my feet. What brought this attorney in our direction? I couldn’t help but wonder if he came intentionally to my cabin or if this was some kind of fluke. But, if this man was looking for a fight…a war…he came to the right doorstep. I was ready.


Author Bio
Just the fact that someone may be reading my ‘bio’ thrills me. What does one say in an author bio? Well, I LOVE to write! Sometimes characters talk to me in my head (in a non-psychotic way) and I have to get what they are saying out on paper! So, here we are! 😊

I am a part-time juvenile probation officer and full time wife…but I spend the majority of the time helping my two favorite sons (only 2) navigate through life and hopefully become the best humans they can be.

I am a huge fan of the Kansas Jayhawks, the Oregon Ducks and the 2016 World Series Champs—the Chicago Cubs! (I have a dog named Wrigley)

I’m terribly addicted to music—ALLLLL kinds and driving in the car with the sunroof open and radio turned up helps the creative juices flow.

I am deliciously addicted to queso, Dr. Pepper, and cupcakes; but even with all that…I like to slowly kill my body with Crossfit.

People ask me ‘what has been your favorite book to write’—I would have to say my original series. (I think it sold 100 copies) 😊 Someday…I may have to tweak them a bit because my heart was poured into those books—but they need help! Slick was my Amazon best seller…but every one of them mean something to me.

In the end, I truly believe life is taken way too seriously by most…I say enjoy every moment, have an adult beverage and READ!! Cheers….

 Author Links