Welcome to the For the Love of Books Giveaway Hop, hosted by Stuck in Books.
We're a month into this new year and I have to admit I’ve been on a reading marathon. I’ve already came across a few books that I simply loved.
In the fantasy/paranormal genre I’m loving Lisa Kessler's Muse Chronicles series. Yes, the whole series! The first book, Lure of Obsession, is currently available for free. The fifth book in the series, Devoted to Destiny, came out last month. You can read an excerpt of it here.
In the contemporary romance genre I recently read Terri Osburn’s Rising Star. This is the first book in her Shooting Stars series. From beginning to end I loved this story. The writing, storytelling and characters were all great. Enjoy this excerpt and be prepared to laugh.
“I haven’t seen a penis in ninety days. Hurry your little heinie up, Charley, before all the good ones are gone.”
Ruby Barnett’s words hung in the August heat like granny panties on a clothesline, and Charley Layton couldn’t help but shake her head. After nearly three months of working with the bawdy woman, she was no longer shocked by Ruby’s crass, if honest, outbursts. As a longtime radio personality, some might think that the older woman would possess a stronger filter than most, but they’d be wrong.
All the same, Charley picked up her pace as the distant sound of singing hopefuls, ever present in this part of downtown Nashville, was interrupted by an unexpected voice.
“I’ll show you mine, Ruby,” offered a deep tenor from behind them. “Come have a look.”
Charley turned to see the incorrigible flirt Trevor Mulligan relieving himself next to his pickup truck in a far corner of the parking garage. The good old boy from Tulsa couldn’t carry a tune to save his life, but he could write a hit song like nobody’s business.
The voice that woke Nashvillians five days a week on Eagle 101.5 replied, “Gee, Trevor, if I’d known you were going to be so accommodating, darling, I’d have packed my magnifying glass before leaving the house.”
The elevator doors slid open, and the two ladies hopped in. Trevor hustled to join them, struggling with his zipper as he shuffled along. Flashing an evil smile, Ruby pressed the button that shut the doors in his face.
“That’s rule number fourteen,” she said, nodding toward the closed doors. “Never tickle the first pickle that comes along. There’s always a better specimen to be had. And in this case, a cleaner, less gnawed-on version.”
Poor Trevor. Charley didn’t know him well, having only met him twice, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. Not very selective, as Ruby vulgarly pointed out, but charming in his own way.
As for the rule thing, ranking at number fourteen meant Ruby had learned this lesson early in life. Charley’s would-be mentor lived by a long list of rules and rattled off life lessons on an almost daily basis. Just this morning, she’d shared rule number thirty-seven—never say “hand-applied” and “express lube” in the same sentence.
To be fair, they’d been broadcasting live from a car wash, and Charley had only been reading the talking points she’d been given.
“Trevor isn’t so bad,” Charley murmured, dabbing beads of sweat from her forehead.
“If you want to wait for him outside, I’m sure he’d happily make you the same offer he made me.”
“I’m not in the market for any pickle, gnawed on or not,” Charley replied as the doors once again opened.
Ruby snorted. “So you keep saying. But a woman needs a man to light her fuse every now and then. If you ask me, a little birthday sex sounds like the perfect way to celebrate twenty-five years on this spinning heap of dirt.”
Exiting the garage behind the saucy redhead, Charley inhaled clean air, hot and heavy as it was. “I’ll celebrate twenty-five with a couple beers and some laughs with friends. That’s good enough.” And safer, too, she thought. Men were much too fickle—and all too likely to leave destruction in their wake.
“That wasn’t cool, Ruby,” said Trevor as he stepped from the stairwell. “I’m already late for the gig at Legends.”
Without missing a beat, she said, “Then maybe you shouldn’t have stopped to take a piss in public.”
Trevor’s parting gesture conveyed his opinion of Ruby’s response.
“I don’t think he liked your advice,” Charley said, laughing.
“I’ll try to recover from the slight,” she replied with dripping sarcasm.
They strolled half a block down Second Avenue, serenaded from every open door they passed, to reach their destination. The line for the popular country venue stretched to the corner at Broadway, where another four blocks of honky-tonks welcomed natives and tourists alike. Eager two-steppers, perspiring beneath their cowboy hats, waited anxiously to sweat even more on the enormous Wildhorse Saloon dance floor.
As Ruby and Charley slipped through the entrance, calls of “We love you, Ruby!” and “Why are they cutting in line?” penetrated the stifling humidity. Being semi-famous to the locals did not mean tourists gave two bits who you were.
Classic Brooks & Dunn pulsed through the club as they made their way to the bar not far from the entrance. Waitresses in short shorts and well-worn cowboy boots sliced through the crowd, trays balanced skillfully above their heads. Ruby ordered two beers while Charley slipped into tourist mode, gawking at her surroundings.
A swirling design, etched to perfection in the custom floor tiles, drew the eye toward the endless expanse of glistening dance floor. The life-size porcelain equines scattered about, all done up in their most dapper western gear, brought a smile to her lips. And the two-steppers twirling in front of the empty stage, showing off their moves with style and grace, reminded her of weekends back home in Kentucky, when she’d spun away more than one Saturday night at the Barn Dance.
“I’m going backstage to check in,” Ruby said, handing Charley her drink. “You coming?”
“I’ll wait for Matty.”
Matilda Jacobs—Matty to her friends—was stunningly beautiful, terrifyingly brilliant, and unapologetically late for everything. At twenty-nine, she’d been navigating the Nashville nightlife for seven years and had grown disturbingly cynical. That she’d agreed to wade into what she considered shallow waters for even one night signified how much she liked her new roommate.
The depth of the dating pool meant little to Charley. She had one priority—to build her career in radio. A relationship would only be a distraction she didn’t need or want.
“I’m here,” called Matty, platinum locks catching the lights as she squeezed between two burly patrons. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nope. Ruby and I walked in a few minutes ago.” Charley had no idea how Matty had skipped the line, but assumed she’d charmed a bouncer while flashing her radio station credentials.
Sculpted brows arched. “Then I’m earlier than usual.” She nodded to the bartender who’d appeared out of nowhere. “Glass of red, please.”
Dimples materialized as the man grinned in response. “Coming right up.”
As usual, Matty didn’t notice the adulation in the young man’s eyes. Though Charley considered herself pretty enough—reasonably sized nose, good natural highlights, tolerable legs—men did not fall at her feet, nor did they hop to do her bidding. Of course, Matty also had the petite thing going for her. Even in four-inch heels, she stood a solid two inches shorter than Charley’s five foot eight. To win in both looks and brains should have been against some law of nature, but as her roommate, Charley knew that Matty shaved her toes and had her mustache waxed every six weeks.
Proof that true perfection did not exist.
“So where is our redheaded wrecking ball?” Matty asked.
Charley grinned. “She’s backstage.”
The bartender returned with her glass of wine, saying, “Here you go, darling.” Matty withdrew a twenty from her clutch purse, but he waved her off. “Compliments of the gentleman down the bar.”
Her perfect features contorted as she shoved the money back in her purse. “I hate this game. Now the idiot is going to come over here and try some stupid line.” She said this without bothering to even glance in her benefactor’s direction. Charley succumbed to curiosity and leaned to the right to find a skinny guy in a ball cap staring at her friend. He wasn’t bad, but he certainly wasn’t anywhere close to being in Matty’s league. She couldn’t help but give him points for confidence.
“He hasn’t left his stool,” she shared, losing her breath when the man next to Mr. Ball Cap turned around.
Black cowboy hat, intense blue-gray eyes, and a scruff-covered chin straight out of a high-fashion magazine topped a slender yet muscled frame. The slight crook in his nose was the only visible flaw, but it added character to what might otherwise have been considered a too-pretty face. As he spoke to the man beside him, full lips parted to reveal straight white teeth, and Charley couldn’t look away. Interest stirred as Ruby’s words floated through her mind.
A woman needs a man to light her fuse every now and then.
Charley’s fuse was good and lit, and the man hadn’t even made eye contact. And then he did, and her mind went blank the same moment her knees threatened to give out. She didn’t smile, and neither did he. In fact, he looked away, showing no interest at all. Ball Cap gave what looked to be a passionate speech, and the Adonis turned once more. This time, he shook his head, and Charley went cold.
Screw him, she thought. He probably sucked in bed anyway.
Ruby Barnett’s words hung in the August heat like granny panties on a clothesline, and Charley Layton couldn’t help but shake her head. After nearly three months of working with the bawdy woman, she was no longer shocked by Ruby’s crass, if honest, outbursts. As a longtime radio personality, some might think that the older woman would possess a stronger filter than most, but they’d be wrong.
All the same, Charley picked up her pace as the distant sound of singing hopefuls, ever present in this part of downtown Nashville, was interrupted by an unexpected voice.
“I’ll show you mine, Ruby,” offered a deep tenor from behind them. “Come have a look.”
Charley turned to see the incorrigible flirt Trevor Mulligan relieving himself next to his pickup truck in a far corner of the parking garage. The good old boy from Tulsa couldn’t carry a tune to save his life, but he could write a hit song like nobody’s business.
The voice that woke Nashvillians five days a week on Eagle 101.5 replied, “Gee, Trevor, if I’d known you were going to be so accommodating, darling, I’d have packed my magnifying glass before leaving the house.”
The elevator doors slid open, and the two ladies hopped in. Trevor hustled to join them, struggling with his zipper as he shuffled along. Flashing an evil smile, Ruby pressed the button that shut the doors in his face.
“That’s rule number fourteen,” she said, nodding toward the closed doors. “Never tickle the first pickle that comes along. There’s always a better specimen to be had. And in this case, a cleaner, less gnawed-on version.”
Poor Trevor. Charley didn’t know him well, having only met him twice, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. Not very selective, as Ruby vulgarly pointed out, but charming in his own way.
As for the rule thing, ranking at number fourteen meant Ruby had learned this lesson early in life. Charley’s would-be mentor lived by a long list of rules and rattled off life lessons on an almost daily basis. Just this morning, she’d shared rule number thirty-seven—never say “hand-applied” and “express lube” in the same sentence.
To be fair, they’d been broadcasting live from a car wash, and Charley had only been reading the talking points she’d been given.
“Trevor isn’t so bad,” Charley murmured, dabbing beads of sweat from her forehead.
“If you want to wait for him outside, I’m sure he’d happily make you the same offer he made me.”
“I’m not in the market for any pickle, gnawed on or not,” Charley replied as the doors once again opened.
Ruby snorted. “So you keep saying. But a woman needs a man to light her fuse every now and then. If you ask me, a little birthday sex sounds like the perfect way to celebrate twenty-five years on this spinning heap of dirt.”
Exiting the garage behind the saucy redhead, Charley inhaled clean air, hot and heavy as it was. “I’ll celebrate twenty-five with a couple beers and some laughs with friends. That’s good enough.” And safer, too, she thought. Men were much too fickle—and all too likely to leave destruction in their wake.
“That wasn’t cool, Ruby,” said Trevor as he stepped from the stairwell. “I’m already late for the gig at Legends.”
Without missing a beat, she said, “Then maybe you shouldn’t have stopped to take a piss in public.”
Trevor’s parting gesture conveyed his opinion of Ruby’s response.
“I don’t think he liked your advice,” Charley said, laughing.
“I’ll try to recover from the slight,” she replied with dripping sarcasm.
They strolled half a block down Second Avenue, serenaded from every open door they passed, to reach their destination. The line for the popular country venue stretched to the corner at Broadway, where another four blocks of honky-tonks welcomed natives and tourists alike. Eager two-steppers, perspiring beneath their cowboy hats, waited anxiously to sweat even more on the enormous Wildhorse Saloon dance floor.
As Ruby and Charley slipped through the entrance, calls of “We love you, Ruby!” and “Why are they cutting in line?” penetrated the stifling humidity. Being semi-famous to the locals did not mean tourists gave two bits who you were.
Classic Brooks & Dunn pulsed through the club as they made their way to the bar not far from the entrance. Waitresses in short shorts and well-worn cowboy boots sliced through the crowd, trays balanced skillfully above their heads. Ruby ordered two beers while Charley slipped into tourist mode, gawking at her surroundings.
A swirling design, etched to perfection in the custom floor tiles, drew the eye toward the endless expanse of glistening dance floor. The life-size porcelain equines scattered about, all done up in their most dapper western gear, brought a smile to her lips. And the two-steppers twirling in front of the empty stage, showing off their moves with style and grace, reminded her of weekends back home in Kentucky, when she’d spun away more than one Saturday night at the Barn Dance.
“I’m going backstage to check in,” Ruby said, handing Charley her drink. “You coming?”
“I’ll wait for Matty.”
Matilda Jacobs—Matty to her friends—was stunningly beautiful, terrifyingly brilliant, and unapologetically late for everything. At twenty-nine, she’d been navigating the Nashville nightlife for seven years and had grown disturbingly cynical. That she’d agreed to wade into what she considered shallow waters for even one night signified how much she liked her new roommate.
The depth of the dating pool meant little to Charley. She had one priority—to build her career in radio. A relationship would only be a distraction she didn’t need or want.
“I’m here,” called Matty, platinum locks catching the lights as she squeezed between two burly patrons. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nope. Ruby and I walked in a few minutes ago.” Charley had no idea how Matty had skipped the line, but assumed she’d charmed a bouncer while flashing her radio station credentials.
Sculpted brows arched. “Then I’m earlier than usual.” She nodded to the bartender who’d appeared out of nowhere. “Glass of red, please.”
Dimples materialized as the man grinned in response. “Coming right up.”
As usual, Matty didn’t notice the adulation in the young man’s eyes. Though Charley considered herself pretty enough—reasonably sized nose, good natural highlights, tolerable legs—men did not fall at her feet, nor did they hop to do her bidding. Of course, Matty also had the petite thing going for her. Even in four-inch heels, she stood a solid two inches shorter than Charley’s five foot eight. To win in both looks and brains should have been against some law of nature, but as her roommate, Charley knew that Matty shaved her toes and had her mustache waxed every six weeks.
Proof that true perfection did not exist.
“So where is our redheaded wrecking ball?” Matty asked.
Charley grinned. “She’s backstage.”
The bartender returned with her glass of wine, saying, “Here you go, darling.” Matty withdrew a twenty from her clutch purse, but he waved her off. “Compliments of the gentleman down the bar.”
Her perfect features contorted as she shoved the money back in her purse. “I hate this game. Now the idiot is going to come over here and try some stupid line.” She said this without bothering to even glance in her benefactor’s direction. Charley succumbed to curiosity and leaned to the right to find a skinny guy in a ball cap staring at her friend. He wasn’t bad, but he certainly wasn’t anywhere close to being in Matty’s league. She couldn’t help but give him points for confidence.
“He hasn’t left his stool,” she shared, losing her breath when the man next to Mr. Ball Cap turned around.
Black cowboy hat, intense blue-gray eyes, and a scruff-covered chin straight out of a high-fashion magazine topped a slender yet muscled frame. The slight crook in his nose was the only visible flaw, but it added character to what might otherwise have been considered a too-pretty face. As he spoke to the man beside him, full lips parted to reveal straight white teeth, and Charley couldn’t look away. Interest stirred as Ruby’s words floated through her mind.
A woman needs a man to light her fuse every now and then.
Charley’s fuse was good and lit, and the man hadn’t even made eye contact. And then he did, and her mind went blank the same moment her knees threatened to give out. She didn’t smile, and neither did he. In fact, he looked away, showing no interest at all. Ball Cap gave what looked to be a passionate speech, and the Adonis turned once more. This time, he shook his head, and Charley went cold.
Screw him, she thought. He probably sucked in bed anyway.
Follow
Thanks for the giveaway; some of my favorite authors are Marissa Meyer, Patricia Briggs, Sarah J Maas and so many more, but those are just a few. ;)
ReplyDeleteSome of my faves are Kristen Ashley, LJ Shen, Felicity Heaton, Kathi S. Barton, Tillie Cole, just to name a few, I could go on & on.
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite authors is Sue Grafton! I've loved her alphabet series!
ReplyDeleteMolly O’Keefe and Suzanne Brockmann are just two of many of my favorite authors. O’Keefe’s series (any of them) will gut you. Brockmann’s Troubleshooters series is the best in romantic suspense. I would also recommend indie author Vanessa Prelatte’s Cimarron/Melbourne Thriller series. The first book is really good and by the third book, it’s just outstanding.
ReplyDeleteLaurelin Paige is a favorite! Thank you
ReplyDeleteI'd recommend anything by Nalini Singh or Shelly Laureston.
ReplyDeletejen dot barnard at btinternet dot com
Favorite authors anything by Ilona Andrews. Really loving The Original Heartbreakers series by Gena Showalter. Love Singh's Guild Hunter and Psy-Changeling series. Also Felicity Heaton's Eternal Mates series. Oh Rhenna Morgan's Men of Haven series is wonderful.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what genres you like, but I love Stephen King, Tolkien, Sean Hinn, JA Andrews, Brandon Barr, J.R. Roper, Steven Kelliher, MarcyKate Connolly, Nathaniel Badertscher, Michael Meyerhofer, Richard Chizmar, Daniel Adorno, Neal Chase, Adam Christopher, Kandi J. Wyatt, and many more. Any one of their books are always good to me.
ReplyDeleteJust a few of my fav authors are JD Robb, Nora Roberts, Gena Showalter, Jennifer Estep, & Christine Feehan
ReplyDeleteDamn so many greats out there.. Let's see ..
ReplyDeleteKristen Ashley, Jessica Lemmon, Lauren Layne, Christina Lauren, CD Reiss, ugh... I'm having such a brain dart right now .. I know I'm leaving out more of my favs...
Lisa Renee Jones, Katy Evans, CD Reiss, Laurelin Paige, K. Bromberg, Cassia Leo, Jill Shalvis, Christina Lauren, Emma Chase, Darynda Jones, and so many others.
ReplyDeleteSome of my favorite authors are Willow Winters, JA Huss, Anne Marsh, Cassandra Dee, Nikky Chase, Mia Ford, Bella Winters, JR Ward...to name a few.
ReplyDeleteKarin Slaughter - The Good Daughter, Mary Alice Monroe - Beach House For Rent, Kristin Hannah - The Great Alone
ReplyDeleteThe very last book I read was called Undercover Princess by Lenora Worth. It was really good. Some of my favorite authors area Jane Porter and Anita Hughes. Also, Talk to the Paw by Melinda Metz was a really cute story told from a cat's point of view in some parts of the story.
ReplyDelete"Who are some of your favorite authors? What books do you think I should add to my reading list?" "Coinman" by Pawan Mishra is an excellent book!
ReplyDeleteShana Galen and Sabrina Jeffries are two of my very favorite, must buy authors. Both have books just our or out very soon. Both write historical romances better than most authors out there today. Sabrina has The Secret of Flirting publishing in early March and Shana also has a new one coming in March titled No Earls Allowed.
ReplyDeleteAnything by Ilona Andrews, Michelle Sagara, Anne Bishop, Seanan McGuire and Eloisa James.
ReplyDeleteJohn D. MacDonald and Donald E. Westlake are two of my favorite authors. I recommend High Noon: the Hollywood Blacklist and the Making of an American Classic by Glenn Frankel.
ReplyDeleteKathleen Ball, K.N. Lee, Avery Flynn, A.M. Albaugh, and Lauren Smith to name a few. Different genres so try them all :)
ReplyDeleteI like Sarah Dessen a lot!
ReplyDeletemia2009(at)comcast(dot)net
For an excellent fantasy romance series check out The Twelve Kingdoms series by Jeffe Kennedy. I absolutely love her writing. The Mark of the Tala is book one.
ReplyDeleteI enjoy Sandra Dallas, Khalad Hosseini, Ann Patchett, and Sophie Kinsella. I think you should add Language of Flowers, Madonnas of Leningrad, and History of Love to your read list.
ReplyDeleteI love to read romance, and one of my favorite authors is Lisa Kleypas. I also love Diana Gabaldon's books.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite authors are Dean Koontz, Stephen King and Anne Rice!!
ReplyDeletei prefer mary higgins clark
ReplyDeleteI like Laura DeLuca and Diana Gabaldon a lot. I love all their books.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite author is Stephen King. I also found a new author last year, Dawn Kurtagich. I tend to like the horror, creepy stories and authors. It's only one of several genres that I enjoy though :)
ReplyDeleteFeener, Chani Lynn - Amid Stars and Darkness, Hahn, Chanda - Lost Girl, Homer, Joanna - Contact, Stevens, M.J. - Bound, Maxwell, Lisa - Unhooked, Saedi, Sara -Never Ever, Katmore, Anna - Neverland, Quinn, Susan Kaye - Open Minds, Stringer, Lynne - The Heir, Gober, Rebecca - Project Ele, Klein, Katie - The Guardian, Bowhay, Heather-Amethyst, Leigh, Jena - Revival, King, Tiffany - Meant to Be, Rachel, Alice - Underground, Twomey, Mary E. - Undraland, Pierson, Elaine - Growl, Garden, Vanessa - Captivate, Bond, Casey L. - Riches to Rags
ReplyDeleteMost of these are free to read on Amazon Kindle
Leigh Bardugo, Alison Goodman and Sarah J Maas are some of my faves!
ReplyDeleteI love Mary Balogh, Susan Elizabeth Phillips and Robyn Carr.
ReplyDeletehmm, one must read is Stephen King nightmares and dreamscapes
ReplyDelete