Tag Archives: Chick Lit

Kendall – Book Tour

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Kendall cover

 

Romantic Comedy, Chick-Lit
Date Published: May 15, 2018
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She doesn’t have time for a relationship,
 
but maybe she could swing a one-night stand.
 
After all, he’s just a stripper,
 
so no need to worry about the future… or a broken heart.
Kendall has it all: a soaring law career, a bank account filled with cash, and an apartment overlooking the Chicago River. Her life couldn’t get any better; at least that’s what she thinks before she hosts a bachelorette party for her younger cousin, Ruthie.
What starts out as a low-key soiree quickly turns into an evening of debauchery when two strippers show up unexpectedly. During their act, Kendall can’t keep her eyes off the dark and stoic Giovanni. Fueled by too many Moscow Mules and ignited by the male form, her suppressed desire smolders.
With the prodding of her older cousin Freya, Kendall pursues a one-night stand with Gio. But when she realizes she wants more, Kendall is forced to reexamine her priorities as well as her lifelong definition of success.
Kendall’s story is the first installment of the five-book romantic comedy series THE LONELY SPINSTERS CLUB.

EXCERPT

KENDALL SHIVERED AS she blindly groped for her blanket. Once she had a corner, she pulled it up around her neck. In the distance, a boat horn tooted a few short blasts. With that, her eyes fluttered open to the expanse of the predawn sky. Huh, was she on the balcony? Had she spent the night outside? She filed through her memories trying to locate the last one from the previous evening.

Bachelorette party… Moscow Mules… Thumper… Strippers.

“Oh no.” Kendall sat up and looked at the other chaise lounge. It was empty. “Phew.” Gio must have left during the night. So Freya should be alone too.

Kendall massaged her pounding temples before she stood. How could she have let herself drink enough to be hung over? How could she have been so weak? Oh the shame.

With her eyes at half mast, she shuffled back inside her apartment toward the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and downed the whole thing. She placed the empty glass in the cabernet-stained sink and turned around to inspect the damage. Not too bad.

Thank goodness, she had had the wherewithal to tidy up all the dishes before she fell asleep last night. She didn’t have the time nor the energy to clean before work this morning. Maybe Freya could vacuum before she moved the chairs and end tables back to their designated spots.

Kendall padded through the short hallway to the closed door of the guest room and rapped gently. “Freya? You alone in there?”

No answer. So Kendall turned the knob and braced herself for the worst. “Freya?”

Once inside, she saw that her cousin was, indeed, alone.

“Freya?” Kendall crept toward the bed and placed her hand on Freya’s shoulder.

“Mmm…”

“Are you awake?”

“What time is it?” Freya’s voice cracked.

“I’m not sure. Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to check on you before I left for work.”

Without opening her eyes, Freya lifted the covers and scooted over, making room for Kendall.

Kendall paused for a second, considering what had occurred between those sheets a few short hours ago. “Which side did you…”

Freya’s right eyelid blinked open. “Get in here, weirdo.”

Putting her head back down on a pillow for a few more minutes would be nice but…

“This side of the bed is clean. Hurry up and get in because I’m cold, and my arm is starting to hurt.”

Freya might be lying, but the pillow beckoned Kendall. She would take a shower in a few minutes anyway. In her current state, comfort should win out over disgust. Kendall submitted to her hangover, crawled under the blankets, and snuggled her cheek against the pillow.

“Tell me everything.” Freya’s voice was low and raspy.

“Nothing happened.” Kendall closed her eyes, and the pounding in her head quieted to a gentle tapping.

“Come on, honey, he was perfect. Especially for you. I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“Yes, he was perfect. But I refuse to sleep with a stranger or a stripper. Or a stranger who happens to be a stripper.”

“Did you at least make out with him?” asked Freya.

“No, I did not make out with him.”

Freya clicked her tongue. “Lost opportunity.”

“I can’t believe you slept with Lucas,” said Kendall.

“Lucas… that was his name. He was pretty perfect too. Much more attentive and skilled than Jim had ever been. Jim, that selfish bastard. One and done. He would never have spent hours making love to me like that young buck had done last night.”

“Not even at the beginning of your relationship?”

“Not even then. Sex was just another task on his to-do list,” said Freya.

“Huh. Well, then, I’m surprised you married him. I’ve always assumed he was better when you were first together.”

“Nope. Not better. I was stupid. For some reason, I thought he’d change.”

“You mean you thought you could change him,” said Kendall.

“Mm-hmm. He worked all the time and was always stressed. I’d hoped he’d learn to relax with me. I’d hoped I’d bring balance to his life. But he was never satisfied with his status or his achievements. He’d reach a goal but then start over again. And his goal post kept moving farther and farther away.”

Kendall understood that dynamic all too well. Her goal posts were on wheels.

“And after my second miscarriage—”

“Freya?” Kendall opened her eyes and studied her cousin’s face. “You had two miscarriages?”

“They both happened early in the pregnancy.” Freya’s eyes remained closed. “Too early to have already made an announcement, so it was easier to say nothing at all.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Kendall reached for Freya’s shoulder.

Freya opened one eye and pushed her hand away. “Stop it. I’m fine.”

“Was Jim there for you?”

“He tried to be, at least after the first one.” She closed her single eye. “But the second one was too much.” Her jaw tightened. “Fuck him. He’s such a child. I’m lucky I didn’t have his baby.”

“Freya, don’t say that.”

“After the second miscarriage, he worked even more than usual. I was such an idiot. I figured he was trying to distract himself.”

“But he wasn’t?”

“Not with work. He was having an affair.”

“What a jerk!” Kendall sat up.

But Freya pulled her back down. “And that’s not even the worst part.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s too early for the rest of this story. I wanna go back to sleep.”

Although Kendall wanted to hear the rest, she didn’t press her cousin. “I wish I could sleep more, but I have to go into the office. I’ll get up in a second.” Kendall’s eyelids drooped shut. “Oh, by the way, thanks for covering me last night. I would’ve frozen to death out on that balcony.”

“I didn’t cover you.”

“Really? Huh.” Did Gio cover me?

Freya put her hand atop of Kendall’s and half-heartedly patted it. “Before I drift off, I have a confession to make.”

“What?”

“I invited the strippers to Ruthie’s wedding,” A smile stretched across Freya’s makeup smeared face.

“I doubt Tristan will approve of your entertainment choice.”

“No, silly. I invited them as our dates so we won’t have to listen to Grandma Bev berate us.”

“But… I already have a date for the wedding.” Under no circumstance would Kendall bring that stripper to a family party, especially when many of the attendees already knew he was a stripper. What would her mother think?

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Josh.” Kendall lied. She hadn’t considered bringing a date to the wedding let alone Josh. But surely he wouldn’t mind a free night out. No strings attached.

“I thought you two were just friends.”

“We are. I invited him as a friend, and I can’t uninvite him just because I found someone better.” Kendall’s head sank into the pillow as the weight of the covers pushed her body into the warm mattress. She’d stay here for a few more minutes, and then she’d get into the shower.

“Kendall, wake up.”

The smell of coffee filled Kendall’s nose as the sound of a vibrating phone filled her ears.

“Your boyfriend, Josh, needs to talk to you.” Freya stood next to the bed holding Kendall’s phone. “He’s called at least four times.”

“What?” Kendall sat up. “Oh no, I must’ve fallen back to sleep.”

“Do you want me to answer it?” Freya waved the phone over Kendall and smiled.

“Don’t you dare.” Kendall grabbed it out of Freya’s hand.

“Hi, Josh. What’s up?”

“Ken, where the fuck are you?” Josh whisper-yelled. “They’re both here. They’ve been asking for you.”

Her heart instantly pounded a fresh dose of stress filled blood to her brain. His words were the shot of adrenaline Kendall needed to jump-start her body. “Tell them I’m on my way.”

“I already told them you’ve been here all morning but went out on a coffee run. So you’d better get here fast, with coffee.”

“All morning? What time is it?”

“It’s eleven-thirty!” Josh had dropped the whisper part and yelled.

“Crap. I’m leaving now.” She hung up, jumped out of bed, and sprinted to her room. She changed her clothes and then ran into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and combed her toffee-colored hair back into a low ponytail. Since her bobbed hair was too short to fit into the tie, a thin layer of hair fell back down to her neck.

“You can’t wear your hair like that.” Freya stood in the doorway of Kendall’s bathroom holding out a can of dry shampoo. “Try this.”

Kendall pulled out the tie and sprayed her hair. “Better?”

Freya nodded.

Kendall inspected her reflection one last time and winced at her bloodshot eyes and dark circles. “Oh man. Do you have any magic sprays to make my face look better?”

“Eye drops and concealer might help.”

“Uh, I don’t have time. Sorry, but I have to run.” Kendall slipped on a pair of black flats and ran for the door. “Will you be okay here, alone?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Go.” Freya waved. “And tell Josh I can’t wait to meet him.”

Kendall pulled the door shut behind her. Her stomach churned as she raced toward the elevator. Crap, she had forgotten to take an antacid.

As she waited for the doors to open, Freya’s last word echoed through her throbbing head. And tell Josh I can’t wait to meet him.

Ugh, so that conversation about the wedding had actually happened? Kendall had hoped it was a dream. Now, on top of dealing with angry bosses and lies about her starting time, she would have to ask Josh about the wedding.

Luckily, traffic was light, and Kendall made it to the office in record time. But first, coffee. Starbucks was a block down, but The Bean Maestro was right next door. She had never tried this tiny independent cafe before today. It looked cute and smelled delicious. Plus, the line was never as long as the one at Starbucks. Indie coffee would have to do.

Kendall rushed into the shop and up to the counter. A college-aged girl with gauged ears and silver hair leaned against the glass pastry case looking at her phone.

“Hi, I need four large coffees. To Go.”

“Sure.” The girl put down her phone. “Do you want room?”

“Only in one.” Kendall held her credit card out.

“Cash only.” The girl pointed at the handwritten sign taped to the back of the register.

“Right.” Kendall rifled through her purse until she found a twenty. “Sorry, I’m a little stressed. I’m running late. I was supposed to be in my office three and a half hours ago.”

“I feel ya. Sunday mornings are tough.”

Kendall drummed her fingers on the countertop as the girl filled her order.

Once finished, the girl placed the four cups in a cardboard carrier and pushed it toward Kendall. “I marked the one with room. Have a good day.”

“Thanks.” Kendall raced toward the condiment bar and removed the lid from her coffee. She poured some more liquid out of her cup and into the garbage can. Then she added three packets of sugar and whole milk.

As she forced the lid back onto the cup, she glanced up at the corkboard hanging on the wall in front of her. A banner, reading Meet the Barista’s of The Bean Maestro, decorated the top of the board. Pictures of smiling hipsters populated the rest of the board. As Kendall’s eyes wandered from square to square, she was struck by the good looks of all the baristas. The maestro certainly hired a type.

But then her eyes stopped on the single image at the bottom. That barista was not a hipster. He was a stripper. Her stripper. The name on the photo read Giovanni Amante.

“Huh, is that what he meant by entrepreneur?” She leaned in closer to study the lines of his face. Although he wore a grin, his dark eyes glistened making him look almost melancholy. She had an uncontrollable urge to hold him in her arms and make everything okay. To think, they had been in such close proximity to one another this whole time but had never crossed paths before last night. Weird.

Kendall’s phone vibrated, so she dug it out of her purse.

Josh: Where are you?

Kendall: Have coffee. Will be up in a minute.

Kendall looked up at Gio one last time. Oh, how she wanted him. Maybe she couldn’t touch him and comfort him in real life, but she could have this picture of him. Kendall zoomed in and snapped a photo of the photo. Then she scurried away hoping the girl behind the counter hadn’t noticed.

As she rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, a wave of gratitude washed over her. Thank goodness for Josh. Most attorneys she had worked with in the past would never have covered for her as he had done. From here on out, she would have to be more careful. Another misstep on her part might tip the balance in Josh’s favor. She couldn’t mess up again. But, if for some reason Josh got the partnership instead of her, she would try to be happy for him. All things considered, he was a true friend.

The elevator doors opened. She poked her head out first to make sure the hallway was empty. And it was, except for Josh. He was standing outside her office door.

“Psst, Josh.” Kendall rushed toward him.

“There you are.”

“I made it.” She held up the cardboard carrier. “Black coffee. Take one.”

“Thanks.” Josh shimmied the nearest cup out of its square slot.

“No, thank you. I shudder to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t called me this morning.”

“Rough night?” Josh smirked.

“Why do you ask?” Kendall unlocked her door and motioned Josh inside.

“You look a little rough around the edges. Was the party fun?”

“It was all right.” She selected the cup opposite the empty square.

“I’d called you a few times this morning before I finally talked to you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t have my phone with me.”

“The first time I called, your cousin answered. She refused to wake you.”

“I can’t believe her.” Kendall looked sideways at Josh as she sipped her coffee. “Did you two talk long?”

“Longer than I’d expected. She had some interesting things to say.” His grin stretched from ear to ear. “What’s this about a wedding?”

Kendall sighed. Freya was such a troublemaker. “My cousin, Ruthie is getting married in two weeks and—”

“And I’m your date? Funny, but Freya talked as if I should’ve known about this already.” Josh kept his eyes on Kendall as he sipped his coffee.

“Um…”

“Don’t worry; I played along.”

“I’m sorry to put you on the spot. I said you were my plus one to get out of bringing a… blind date.”

“Oh?” Josh furrowed his brow. “So, you’re using me.”

“On the contrary, I want you to come. I don’t know why I didn’t think of asking you sooner. We never hang out outside of work. It’ll be fun. Will you come? Pretty please?” Kendall folded her hands under her chin and begged. “You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll pay for any expenses you might incur. Dry cleaning, valet, whatever. No strings attached. Just two friends, having dinner.”

“Just two friends having dinner…” Josh scratched his chin. “Hmm.”

“Well, maybe we could act as if we’re on a date for my grandmother’s benefit.”

“But it’s not a date.”

“Of course not. But would you mind driving? That’ll make us a more convincing couple.”

“Sure, I can swing that.”

“Josh, you’re a lifesaver.” Kendall picked up the cardboard carrier. “I’d better get these coffees to the bosses before they get cold.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

 

Daphne Hargrow is a romance writer, avid reader, and novice yogi. She has also published a few young adult novels under a different name. When Daphne is not writing, thinking about writing, or reading about writing, she watches YouTube conspiracy videos and dreams of the day when she, too, can join the ranks of the Illuminati.
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Sway – Blitz

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Sway

by Alana Albertson
Publication Date: April 24, 2018
Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Chick Lit

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Read for FREE in KindleUnlimited!

Purchase: Amazon

Two ballroom superstars from different corners of the world. Former best friends now sworn bitter rivals.

Salomé

The dance I choreographed won an Emmy—but someone else claimed it. The man I loved just got engaged—but another woman is wearing his ring. I’m the reigning world champion ballroom dancer—but I’m not “TV material.” I’m too curvy. I’m too short. I’m too real. Screw Hollywood. I’m no longer hiding behind the wings. I’m no longer letting people steal my life. I’m ready for my turn in the spotlight—no matter what the consequences.

Vika

I left my country, my home, my language, my heart. For a chance to have a life in America—live without prejudice and pain. For freedom, I’ve given my heart and soul. Love now means nothing to me but success and security. Until I met him—the long haired rock and roll drummer with a boyish grin. True love and acceptance will destroy everything I’ve worked for. I’m ready for my chance for happiness – no matter what the consequences.

This book is a stand alone chick-lit-esque new adult romance. This book is not a sequel to Love Waltzes In and can be read on it’s own.

About Alana Albertson

Alana Albertson is an award winning Latina author, the former President of Romance Writers of America’s Contemporary Romance, Chick Lit, and Young Adult chapters. She holds a Masters of Education from Harvard and a Bachelor of Arts in English from Stanford. A recovering professional ballroom dancer, Alana currently writes new adult romantic suspense, young adult, and contemporary romance. She lives in San Diego, California, with her husband, two sons, and five dogs. When she’s not spending her time needlepointing, dancing, or saving dogs from high kill shelters through her rescue Pugs N Roses, she can be found watching episodes of House Hunters, Homeland, or Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team.

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HEAVENLY PLEASURES – Release Blitz

*** RELEASING TODAY !! ***
At Heavenly Pleasures, quite a lot of things are possible…
Heavenly Pleasures COVER
HEAVENLY PLEASURES
Isla Dennes
Series: For Heaven’s Sake Book 1
Genre: Chick Lit, Comedy, Romance
Publisher: Totally Bound
Publication Date: January 30, 2018
Meet Brooke, a self-confessed shopaholic turned reluctant brothel receptionist, as she stumbles through life, trying to live up to her parents’ and fiancé’s high expectations—at the cost of her now low self-esteem.
Who would have thought a group of working girls would help her rediscover her inner strength and finally tackle her personal demons? But at Heavenly Pleasures, the rules are made to be broken and new opportunities are just around the corner…

Purchase Links

Excerpt

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scarlett asked, taking in my pale face and trembling hands.
“Some bloke just walked in here and asked me to have sex with him!”
Uggh! And he’d been all greasy black hair, gold fillings and overgrown ’tache, like an aging porn star. I stifled the urge to throw up.
Shaking her head in disgust, Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to you, precious, but you are working in a brothel, you know.”
“But—”
“But nothing. What the hell did you expect him to ask for, a burger and fries?”
“I kept telling him I was only the receptionist, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me he’d pay extra if he had to.” I fought to calm my racing heart and queasy stomach.
Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t look happy. It occurred to me that maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.
“What do you mean extra? How much extra?”
“Um…” I swallowed hard. “Three hundred dollars.”
The temperature in the room plummeted as a blast of ice-cold fury filled the air.
What!” she screeched. “And you turned him down?
“But—”
“Jesus Christ!” she hissed and bolted over to the waiting room. “Shit, where the hell is he now?”
My glance flickered toward the door. Scarlett’s followed. For the briefest of moments, I thought she was going to drag him back in and make him apologize for being an insensitive bastard.
Instead her eyes widened in shock. “What! You let him walk out of here? You selfish fucking cow. You mightn’t have wanted him, but what about the rest of us girls? Three hundred bucks and you just let him walk out of here? Jesus! Prue is going to go off her nut when she hears about this.”
Prue was the Madame and owner of Heavenly Pleasures. An outwardly serene woman with immaculate hair, but nonetheless seriously scary with a sinister reputation, not unlike Cruella DeVille on a bad day, and therefore someone I did not want to cross.
“Oh, please don’t say anything,” I begged, on the verge of tears. “Look, I promise if he comes back in, I’ll call you out straight away—before JoJo. Just don’t mention it to Prue. I was just a bit taken aback, that’s all, and didn’t know what to do.”
This part was true. Haggling for sex wasn’t something we’d covered in secretarial college. Maybe it was the look of pure terror on my face or possibly Scarlett was in a rare compassionate mood, but after a moment’s hesitation she stopped scowling, her expression softening in what could well have been pity.
“Okay. I won’t say anything—this time,” came with reluctance. “But of course I’ll expect some more bookings, if you get my meaning.”
Yes—her meaning was loud and clear. She was blackmailing me, but I was in no position to protest. I nodded.
Her mood lightened. “Hey, cheer up, will you? So what if some ugly punter wanted a poke? Jeez, you’re not the first one to have the hard word put on them by some tosser, believe me. Guys come in here, think they’re God’s gift to women and although they know you’re not a worker, it gives them a sick thrill to think they can convince you to drop to your knees for a blow job—even if it is for three hundred dollars.” She threw me a disgusted look and shook her head in disbelief. “I reckon in their pathetic little minds they’re convinced they’ve seduced you with their hot looks and charm. Losers, that’s what they are. Anyway, I suppose it’s probably just as well you didn’t take him up on it.”
“Really?” I brightened, seeing it as a sign I was forgiven.
“Yeah, the girls would have flattened you if you had.”
Oh, God. I felt ill. What on earth had happened to my perfect life?
Two months ago, I had never met or even spoken to a prostitute. Two months ago, I’d had no idea brothels even existed outside the red light district of King’s Cross. Two months ago, I’d thought French, Spanish and Greek were southern Europeans rather than hooker code for certain sexual practices. And two months ago, I’d been happily looking forward to marrying my fiancé, Brad, an up-and-coming lawyer who planned to be the youngest junior partner in the law firm where he worked.
Yes, two months ago my life had all been mapped out before me.
But that was before a day out in the city to catch up with an old friend triggered a series of events that would ultimately bring about my downfall. Yep, it was at that point I can honestly say my life had bit the big one, nose-diving to newly discovered depths of desperation and despair. I was completely screwed and I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself…
Heavenly Pleasures Tour Graphic

About Isla Dennes

Isla Dennes

Married, mother of one son and three daughters, Isla Dennes developed a love for writing while employed in her dream job as the owner of a book shop situated in a seaside resort town in NSW, Australia. Not content in simply reading every book in the store, she found herself compelled to create novels of her own.
Had she concentrated more on sales and less on writing she might well have retired a wealthy woman, but writing won out in the end, with the result being a lifelong passion for creative writing across a number of genres, including a brief but regrettable sojourn into horribly sentimental New-aged poetry which is best forgotten.
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Giveaway

WIN $10 AMAZON GIFT CARD
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Contest runs from January 15 – February 1, 2018.

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HEAVENLY PLEASURES – Pre Order Blitz

*** PRE-ORDER ALERT ***
Releasing January 30, 2018
Heavenly Pleasures Tour Graphic
HEAVENLY PLEASURES
Isla Dennes
Heavenly Pleasures
Series: For Heaven’s Sake Book
Genre: Chick Lit, Comedy, Romance
Publisher: Totally Bound
Publication Date: January 30, 2018
At Heavenly Pleasures, quite a lot of things are possible…
Meet Brooke, a self-confessed shopaholic turned reluctant brothel receptionist, as she stumbles through life, trying to live up to her parents’ and fiancé’s high expectations—at the cost of her now low self-esteem.
Who would have thought a group of working girls would help her rediscover her inner strength and finally tackle her personal demons? But at Heavenly Pleasures, the rules are made to be broken and new opportunities are just around the corner…
Enter Praise1
– Enter Praise1Author
Enter Praise2
– Enter Praise2Author
Enter Praise3
– Enter Praise3Author

Excerpt

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scarlett asked, taking in my pale face and trembling hands.
“Some bloke just walked in here and asked me to have sex with him!”
Uggh! And he’d been all greasy black hair, gold fillings and overgrown ’tache, like an aging porn star. I stifled the urge to throw up.
Shaking her head in disgust, Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to you, precious, but you are working in a brothel, you know.”
“But—”
“But nothing. What the hell did you expect him to ask for, a burger and fries?”
“I kept telling him I was only the receptionist, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me he’d pay extra if he had to.” I fought to calm my racing heart and queasy stomach.
Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t look happy. It occurred to me that maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.
“What do you mean extra? How much extra?”
“Um…” I swallowed hard. “Three hundred dollars.”
The temperature in the room plummeted as a blast of ice-cold fury filled the air.
What!” she screeched. “And you turned him down?
“But—”
“Jesus Christ!” she hissed and bolted over to the waiting room. “Shit, where the hell is he now?”
My glance flickered toward the door. Scarlett’s followed. For the briefest of moments, I thought she was going to drag him back in and make him apologize for being an insensitive bastard.
Instead her eyes widened in shock. “What! You let him walk out of here? You selfish fucking cow. You mightn’t have wanted him, but what about the rest of us girls? Three hundred bucks and you just let him walk out of here? Jesus! Prue is going to go off her nut when she hears about this.”
Prue was the Madame and owner of Heavenly Pleasures. An outwardly serene woman with immaculate hair, but nonetheless seriously scary with a sinister reputation, not unlike Cruella DeVille on a bad day, and therefore someone I did not want to cross.
“Oh, please don’t say anything,” I begged, on the verge of tears. “Look, I promise if he comes back in, I’ll call you out straight away—before JoJo. Just don’t mention it to Prue. I was just a bit taken aback, that’s all, and didn’t know what to do.”
This part was true. Haggling for sex wasn’t something we’d covered in secretarial college. Maybe it was the look of pure terror on my face or possibly Scarlett was in a rare compassionate mood, but after a moment’s hesitation she stopped scowling, her expression softening in what could well have been pity.
“Okay. I won’t say anything—this time,” came with reluctance. “But of course I’ll expect some more bookings, if you get my meaning.”
Yes—her meaning was loud and clear. She was blackmailing me, but I was in no position to protest. I nodded.
Her mood lightened. “Hey, cheer up, will you? So what if some ugly punter wanted a poke? Jeez, you’re not the first one to have the hard word put on them by some tosser, believe me. Guys come in here, think they’re God’s gift to women and although they know you’re not a worker, it gives them a sick thrill to think they can convince you to drop to your knees for a blow job—even if it is for three hundred dollars.” She threw me a disgusted look and shook her head in disbelief. “I reckon in their pathetic little minds they’re convinced they’ve seduced you with their hot looks and charm. Losers, that’s what they are. Anyway, I suppose it’s probably just as well you didn’t take him up on it.”
“Really?” I brightened, seeing it as a sign I was forgiven.
“Yeah, the girls would have flattened you if you had.”
Oh, God. I felt ill. What on earth had happened to my perfect life?
Two months ago, I had never met or even spoken to a prostitute. Two months ago, I’d had no idea brothels even existed outside the red light district of King’s Cross. Two months ago, I’d thought French, Spanish and Greek were southern Europeans rather than hooker code for certain sexual practices. And two months ago, I’d been happily looking forward to marrying my fiancé, Brad, an up-and-coming lawyer who planned to be the youngest junior partner in the law firm where he worked.
Yes, two months ago my life had all been mapped out before me.
But that was before a day out in the city to catch up with an old friend triggered a series of events that would ultimately bring about my downfall. Yep, it was at that point I can honestly say my life had bit the big one, nose-diving to newly discovered depths of desperation and despair. I was completely screwed and I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself…

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About Isla Dennes

Isla Dennes

Married, mother of one son and three daughters, Isla Dennes developed a love for writing while employed in her dream job as the owner of a book shop situated in a seaside resort town in NSW, Australia. Not content in simply reading every book in the store, she found herself compelled to create novels of her own.
Had she concentrated more on sales and less on writing she might well have retired a wealthy woman, but writing won out in the end, with the result being a lifelong passion for creative writing across a number of genres, including a brief but regrettable sojourn into horribly sentimental New-aged poetry which is best forgotten.
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HIS REDNECK GIRL – PROMO BLITZ

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Possum Hollow Series, Book One
Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance, Chick-lit
Date Published: October 2017
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Jimmie Joe Johnson has spent years living up to his hound dog reputation. If he can’t have the one female he truly wants, then any female will do. When he isn’t off diddlin’ some female, he’s practicing for pool playoffs, determined to get his pool team to Vegas. Not only for bragging rights, but for the free trip to ‘Sin City’ and cash prize that comes along with it.
Baylee Jean Brown has never gotten over her first and only love, Jimmie Joe Johnson. So when she discovers the truth about why he really ended things with her all those years before, she sets out to get her man back. And no other thigh-parting female is going to stand in her way. She just has to find a way to make him take notice of her, considering he’d been avoiding her since that day her spell-threatening aunt (yes, she does come from a long line of witches), threatened to place his man-parts in a jar on her windowsill.
Avoiding Baylee Jean Brown in a town the size of Possum Hollow is hard enough, but all of the sudden she’s dressing sexy and aiming all that female heat in his direction. He tries to convince her that she’s better off without him, but how can he expect her to listen to reason when his own heart and body refuse to? Now his man-parts are in a whole different kind of danger. Not because her aunt might still carry through with her threat to pickle them, but because he knows no other woman will ever do.
Recent Praise for His Redneck Girl:
 
“Irreverent, bawdy, laugh out loud funny. The most hilarious book I’ve read in years–maybe ever! In fact, I’m pretty sure this book is the reason the term “ROFLMAO” was invented. If you combined Jeff Foxworthy’s humor and Jason Stackhouse’s good looks and libido, you’d end up with Jimmie Joe Johnson, one smokin’ hot hound dog and one hilarious read!” –New York Times bestselling author C.L. Wilson
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Excerpt
 
“Hey there, Jimmie Joe.” A hand grabbed my ass through my jeans, giving it a firm squeeze.
The cue ball missed the rack completely, bringing about another round of snickers from my teammates. I knew, even without lookin, who that sugar sweet voice and bolder-than-hell hand belonged to. Memories from the past came rushing back. Baylee Jean always knew just how to touch me to drive me wild.
I turned to face her. “What the hell…?”
My eyes bugged out just like one of them there cartoon characters. And I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open, too, but I couldn’t say for certain. All my thoughts were centered on the female standing in front of me. My gaze slid down Baylee Jean’s curvy form. Where the hell were her bibs? They hid a lot more flesh than what she was wearing and the last thing I wanted to be at that moment was tempted.
“Baylee Jean?” I choked.
Smiling, she tucked her hands into the back pockets of the cut-off jean shorts she wore, drawing my gaze back up to the pair of tits ready to burst out of the Bedazzled halter top she had on. Big, round, make-a-man-want-to-nibble-on-them kind of breasts.
Her smile widened. “You like? Randi Lynn gave me a few fashion tips.”
The words—Hell, yeah! —ricocheted around inside my brain. Instead, all that came out was, “Does your aunt know you’re runnin’ around town dressed like that?”
Her smile sagged for all of about two seconds, then it returned full force. She tipped her chin upward. “I’m old enough to dress like I please. And I decided it’s time for a new style.”
It had been hard enough avoiding her all these years the way she used to dress. My gaze slid over her again and I bit back a groan. Now, it was gonna be damn near impossible.
Bo let out an appreciative whistle. “I like your new style.”
The rest of my team, nodding in agreement, stared at Baylee Jean like she was the last beer left in the cooler.
“Thanks,” she said and then her gaze slid back to me. “You ain’t said what you think ‘bout my new look, Jimmie Joe.”
I was thinking that her breasts would be way too easy to access in that top. And damned if I wasn’t tempted to run my hand up between those tanned thighs and feel the heat I knew existed there.
“It looks good on you,” I muttered, trying like hell to tamp down my desire.
Her lips parted, drawing my gaze. The tip of her tongue slid out, moving over her lips in a slow, deliberately teasing swipe that had my cock stirring beneath the fly of my jeans.
Think of anything but how damn good she looks standing there, I told myself. The only thing guaranteed to come out of my diddling with Baylee Jean Brown was trouble.
She reached up to run her fingers back through her long, silky black hair. Not the straight hair I had always seen her with, but hair that had been curled just enough to make it look soft and touchable.
“I’ve been dreamin’ ’bout you,” she said with a sexy smile.
Damned if her words didn’t send a bolt of sexual hunger straight to my cock. I didn’t wanna hear about her dreams. Didn’t wanna think about her sprawled naked across her sheets period!
“Ooh,” Hit Man said with a grin. “Ain’t you a lucky son of a bitch? Havin’ a woman dream about you.”
“Most women do,” I replied, shooting a cocky grin to my buddies. Besides, it wasn’t the first time a woman told me she dreamed about me. I couldn’t help that I was the kind of man female fantasies were made of.
“Reckon so.” She moved to brush up against me like a cat in heat. “So watcha doin’?”
I knew what I wasn’t doing. I wasn’t gonna give in to my thumping cock. And I sure as hell wasn’t accomplishing what I’d come there for—shooting pool.
“Gettin’ drunk,” I replied stiffly as I set her away from me. I already had a laundry basket imprint on my ass. I sure as hell didn’t wanna add Callie Rae’s talon marks to my already-tender flesh.
“So I can take advantage of you?” she asked, not the least bit deterred in her pursuit. “’Cause I would, you know?” she said, not giving me a chance to reply. And followed that up with another dart of her pink tongue across those glossy lips.
Thump. Thump.
Hearing her say those things, all grown up and dressed like that was threatening my sanity. With a curse, I tossed the bar stick down on the table and walked back to the bar. “Duffster, you’re up.”
“Reckon I ain’t the only one,” he said with a grin as he walked past me.
I looked down at the fly of my pants with a groan.
“Not gonna take her up on her offer?” T-Bone asked as she reached for her beer.
“Hell, no.” I was glad I didn’t have to ask a Magic 8-Ball that question, because I had a gut feeling its response would be—SIGNS POINT TO YES. And there was one big sign doing the pointing right at that moment, just below my favorite GOT BEER belt buckle.
The front door swung open and Randi Lynn stepped into the bar.
“Well, if it ain’t little Miss Smell-Good,” Skeeter hollered.
“Better than smellin’ like a stinky ol’ fish,” she replied with a toss of her long black hair.
He sniffed himself with a grin. “You mean my catch-of-the-day cologne ain’t makin’ you wanna strip me naked?”
“Only thing I’d be strippin’ you naked for would be a bath.”
“You offerin’?”
She muttered something under her breath I’d have guessed was a curse or two if she were Baylee Jean. But Randi Lynn’s mouth was about as clean as they come. I reckon their momma had used up all the cursing genes on Baylee Jean.
Ignoring Skeeter, who tended to set her off anytime they were near each other, Randi Lynn scanned the room. “Baylee Jean,” she said. “Aunt Callie’s lookin’ for you.”
“Shit,” Baylee Jean cursed with a frown. Every bit the girl I remembered. Gotta love a female with a dirty mouth.
“She’s drivin’ around town. I cut through the woods to warn you.”
“I’ll be right out,” Baylee Jean replied, the frustration clear in her voice.
With a nod, her sister turned and disappeared behind the closing door.
Baylee Jean’s toe-peeping, red high heels clicked across the cigarette-butt-littered floor as she moved toward the front door. Halfway there, she stopped and turned.
I might have had my back to her, but I knew she was looking my way and wanting what she couldn’t have. It was a family gift all us Johnson men had. E.S.P—Extra Sexual Perception. We knew when a woman wanted us.
“One of these days, Jimmie Joe,” she said, “you’re gonna be servicin’ me again and only me.”
She had no idea how close she was to being serviced right then and there. The second the door closed behind her, air whistled through my teeth.
“Holy shit, Jimmie Joe,” Bo said, dragging a hand down over his bushy beard.
I reached for my beer, taking several long swallows. Holy shit was right. The button at the top of my fly was about to give in to the pressure beneath it and launch across the smoke-hazed bar.
What the hell was going on? Baylee Jean had barely spared me a glance for the past ten years—deservedly so. Now, all of a sudden, she was oozing honey and coming after me like a Bluetick coonhound fixing to tree a coon.
My cock twitched. I wanted to be that coon. And despite knowing it was best to keep things the way they had been between Baylee and me, I had to admit I was real tempted to let myself get treed by her. Just once. Maybe then I’d finally be able to get her out of my blood—for good.
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About the Author

Award-winning romance author Lindsey Brookes is a four-time RWA Golden Heart finalist, as well as a past American Title III finalist, and winner of Harlequin’s Great American Romance Novel contest. She has written for, Kensington Publishing, Amazon Publishing, and has indie-pubbed several of her young adult and adult contemporary romances. She is represented by Michelle Grajkowski with 3 Seas Literary Agency.
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