Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Unforgettable (A Hollywood Love Story #2) by Nelle L'Amour is LIVE!! New Release, Review and Giveaway

(A Hollywood Love Story #2)

by Nelle L'Amour
Genre: Erotic Romantic Comedy
 Release Date: December 1, 2015

US: http://amzn.to/1Stf6Yu

Brandon: I’d kill for her. I want to see the bastard who murdered her mother burn in hell. No other woman has made me feel so much. My heart aches for her more than my cock does. I want her to be mine. I want to own every ounce of her body and her soul. But I’m trapped by another who’s holding a gun to my balls

Zoey: Who am I kidding? I’m helplessly and hopelessly in love with my boss, Hollywood heartthrob, Brandon Taylor. Our pasts are entwined just like our hearts. He makes me feel things in places I’ve never known before. But I don’t stand a chance against America’s It Girl, Katrina Moore. Forget it. There won’t be a happily ever after for me.

As his memory returns, Brandon’s need to dominate and possess his curvy assistant in every way consumes him while Zoey finds herself succumbing to his magnetic charm. Unexpected events and a fluffy little dog bring the twosome closer to their destiny, but an evil force threatens to end their journey. Fate’s a bitch, right?

I take another hit of the Campari cocktail. “Have you ever gone swimming in the Mediterranean?”

He smiles. “Dozens of times. The water is incredible. If we have time, I want to take you swimming.”

A frisson of anxiety curls in my gut. Not only am I afraid of swimming in the sea, but I also sure as hell don’t want Brandon to see me in a bathing suit again.

“I don’t think so. You know, I’m still afraid of the ocean.”

He laughs. “The Mediterranean isn’t an ocean. It’s a sea. And technically, the part here in Cannes is a bay. So, the water is very calm. Barely a wave.”

“B-but I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” The truth. I never even thought of bringing one since I packed so hastily.

He laughs again and unnerves me. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll buy you a bikini.”

I gulp. A bikini—the last thing I want to be caught dead in! Especially with Brandon. As I envision the worst, he continues.

“There’s probably a boutique right in the hotel.” He regards me coyly. “You may only need a bottom. Most women here sun and swim topless.”

I gulp again. The ring of Brandon’s phone saves me from responding. Thank God, because I’m at a loss for words.

My eyes stay on him as he pulls out his cell from his jeans pocket and glances down at the caller ID. His lips twist and his brows furrow. Katrina? The phone continues to ring while I anxiously circle the rim of my glass with my fingertip. To my relief, he doesn’t answer it, and, in fact, turns it off. “Fuck it,” he mumbles under his breath. His frown morphs into a smile when Antoine personally brings us our meal along with the bottle of wine.

“Bon appetit,” says the jovial man, setting our order down.

The tantalizing, garlicky aroma of the mussels wafts up my nose. My appetite is aroused.

“Antoine makes the best mussels meuniere in all of the Riviera,” Brandon tells me.

Antoine smiles proudly. He uncorks the wine and pours Brandon a bit. Brandon takes a sip and nods approvingly. “C’est parfait.”

It’s perfect. He’s perfect. We share the big bowl of mussels and the crispy fries, sensuously feeding helpings to one another and imbibing the refreshing pink wine between bites. Moans escape my mouth. Not only are the mussels divine, but their tender meat is also charging me with sexual energy. Mussels must be some kind of aphrodisiac. But actually, everything is turning me on. The food, the wine, the setting. And most of all, the mouth-watering man sitting across from me. My eyes don’t waver from him as I feed him the last mussel. His luscious lips clamp down on the edible part and then he sucks on it.

“Mmm,” he moans, closing his eyes as he does. Every ounce of me is buzzing and there’s a wet fire inside my panties. He swallows and licks his upper lip. Another gush of wetness and a rush of hot tingles besiege me. He re-opens his eyes and meets my gaze, holding it fiercely. Before either of us can say word, a staunch, swarthy woman appears on the terrace. Holding an accordion, she heads our way. Once at our table, she stretches out the instrument and starts to serenade us.


Oh my God! In one word, the song is instantly recognizable. “Unforgettable.” Mama’s favorite song…sung in French. With the husky voice of a fallen angel, the songstress’s moving rendition pulls at my heartstrings. Tears flood my eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Brandon asks, tenderly brushing my unstoppable tears away.

“This was Mama’s favorite song. She sang it all the time. It reminded her of Papa.” Sniffling, I pause while the dark memory fills my head. “It was playing on the Pier when she was shot.”

“I’m sorry. It’s a beautiful song,” he says softly, cutting into the painful, unforgettable memory. His violet eyes burn right through me and his voice grows softer. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

My watering eyes blink several times while my breath hitches in my throat and my heart hammers against my chest. His words swirl around in my head like confetti. They shower my flesh with flecks of heightened sensation and my soul with explosive emotion. I begin to unravel.

And then he does something that totally turns me into vapor. Tracing my tear-soaked jaw, Brandon sings along in English, his voice pure velvet, as devastating as the man he is

“Oh, Brandon!” I weep out his name. The impact of this magical moment has reduced to me to mush.

Still singing and melting my heart, my gorgeous god of a man stands up, and rounding the table, pulls out my chair. “Dance with me, Zoey.” A soft but strong command.

On my next sniffle, I’m in his strong arms, my head resting on his beating heart, my arms draped around his shoulders, as he moves me slowly to the melody and words. Swaying me side to side, he sings into my ear while tears stream down my face and dampen his linen shirt. I lose myself in him with each slow measured step. It’s as if there is no one else in the world but the two of us. Unforgettable…as the word drifts into a hypnotic hum, he draws me closer to him, pressing his lips on my scalp. I feel the warmth of them and his taut body flush against mine. I melt into his ripples and his arousal. He owns me and I don’t have the strength or desire to break away. Physically or mentally.

I’m drunk with emotion. And one forbidden four-letter word. So intoxicated, I can’t think straight or question what I’m doing. I just cling to him. Like a song of love. Finally, I lift my head, and look up at him, my bleary eyes searching for answers. His impassioned gaze holds me captive. My already racing pulse accelerates.

“Brandon—” I don’t know what words will spill out of my mouth next, if any at all. It doesn’t matter. Because on my next heartbeat, he fists my hair and tugs back my head. Before I can take another breath, his lips come crashing down on mine like a meteor. Still humming, he sucks and gnaws my hungry mouth. White-hot balls of passion explode inside me, showering me with fireworks from my head to my toes. I moan into his mouth and then I part my lips, allowing his tongue to find mine. Entwined, our tongues dance sensuously, swirling and twirling to the music and lyrics. Oh my God. This kiss! This incredible kiss! I cup his strong, stubbled jaw, deepening, and extending it, as he draws me closer, one hand gripping my ass. The song drifts into my ears like a magic carpet. The sparks now blind me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Yet, he’s all I see. Never before has anyone been so unforgettable in every way. After what seems like an eternity, the timeless song ends, and he gently breaks his lips away. My heavy eyelids rise like theater curtains, and our glazed eyes lock in a passionate exchange. Shouts of “bravo” from patrons and bystanders reverberate in my ears. I feel myself flush with embarrassment, but Brandon’s dimpled smile fills me with a rush of lust and desire as he holds me tight in his arms.

Tears flow from my eyes. Everything’s been so perfect. The setting. The meal. Our dance. Our kiss. But something is so wrong with this picture. A blaring ambulance races by. The sound of the siren startles me back to my senses, out of my drunken stupor. Brandon’s name burns on my heart. Remorse singes my brain. I want to rip that dazzling smile off his face. What the hell is he doing? What the hell am I doing? He belongs to another. As reality sets in, so does a bitter mix of panic and regret.

Oblivious, Brandon kisses my tears away and then breathes against my neck. “Baby, let’s make this night unforgettable.”

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Now it is Zoe's turn in the hospital.  Brandon is going nuts with worry about her.  She is hysterical trying to make everyone aware that Scott is involved with the man that... well you will have to find out what the emergency is about.

This book is full of surprises and twists in our plot.  Zoe and Brandon's lives are about to change drastically.  The feelings they have for each other are getting stronger and our lovers are both ablaze!

In true romantic/comedic style, this story kept me reading and not wanting to put this book down.  If a book and the story are truly well-written, I will find I am smiling or biting my nails as I read.  The fact that I could not put this book down, is a testament to how much I am emotionally involved with these unique characters and their antics.

I can hardly wait for the third and final installment to be published.  I need to know what happens next.  My words at the end of this book were..."NO!  Tell me it isn't so!!"

Author Bio

Nelle L'Amour is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling Author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment and toy industries with a prestigious Humanitus Award to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago but still enjoys playing with toys with her husband. While she writes in her PJs, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she's Hollywood royalty. She writes juicy stories with characters that will make you both laugh and cry and stay in your heart forever.

In addition to the Gloria’s Secret Trilogy, she is the author of the bestselling THAT MAN series, the Seduced by the Park Avenue Billionaire boxed set, and the highly rated Amazon bestseller, Undying Love. Unforgettable, her latest series, will be published in Fall 2015.

Nelle loves to hear from her readers. Connect to her at:

Author Links

Morrison ( Caldwell Brothers #2) by MJ Fields and Chelsea Camaron New Release and Review

Series: Caldwell Brothers #2
by MJ Fields & Chelsea Camaron
Publisher: Loveswept
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 1, 2015


The sizzling-hot Caldwell Brothers series—perfect for readers of J. S. Scott and Emma Chase—hits the Vegas strip as a bad-boy gambler from Detroit Rock City shows a single mom what it means to play for keeps.

For Morrison Caldwell, life is a game of chance. A high roller with a legendary poker face, he’s the wild card of the family, always chasing the next thrill and never staying put for long. The one place that always lures him back is Las Vegas, with its hot tables and even hotter women. He’s perfectly content to live his life as a series of one-night stands. But when a parking lot confrontation with a cocktail waitress takes a naughty turn, she leaves Morrison aching for another round.

After a long losing streak in Sin City, Hailey Poe is ready to get lucky. A steamy tryst with a cocky, mysterious stranger is the kind of no-strings encounter she’s been craving . . . until Morrison Caldwell asks for more than she’s willing to offer. But when Hailey’s controlling, soon-to-be ex-husband tries to take her daughter away, she can’t afford to turn down a helping hand. In this winner-takes-all game, Morrison is gambling with Hailey’s life—and her heart.

Morrison Caldwell is also know as "Slick", "Aces"... you get my drift.  He is a card shark that has achieved the correct veneer to mask his tells and intimidate his opponents.  He is the swinging playboy who uses his observational skills to pick his one-night-stands. He is selective, charming, and he never stays longer than needed with any of his conquests.

Hailey and Morrison are an explosion about to happen.  He is lose and fancy free, living is a matter of day to day for Morrison, where Hailey lives her life planning her escape hoping she will be able to gain her freedom and that of her daughter's.

This is a top notch story, expertly written, and full of suspense and thrills.  These are complex characters under the surface they present to the world.  It is by their survival skills that they become a couple and the same skills help them evolve toward a new future.

Absolutely loved this story so much, I went ahead and bought the first book in this series - Hendrix.  These stories can be read as standalones, but I can assure you it is so much better to have read them in order.  You get more out of the stories.

Also Available


Chelsea Camaron

USA Today bestselling author Chelsea Camaron grew up turning wrenches alongside her father, which just so happened to inspire her Love and Repair and The Hellions Ride series. When she’s not writing, you can find her playing with her kids, attending car shows, going on motorcycle rides on the back of her husband’s Harley, snuggling down with her new favorite book, or watching any movie that Vin Diesel might happen to be in. She lives in Louisiana with her husband and two children.

MJ Fields

MJ Fields is the USA Today bestselling author of the Love series, the Wrapped series, the Burning Souls series, the Men of Steel series, and the Norfolk series. A former small-business owner who recently became a full-time writer, Fields lives in central New York, surrounded by family and friends. Her house is full of pets, friends, and noise ninety percent of the time, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Monday, November 30, 2015

Uncut by Claudia Burgoa Unexpected Series #4 Release Date: December 28, 2015 Cover Reveal and Giveaway

Uncut by Claudia Burgoa
Unexpected Series #4

Release Date: December 28, 2015

Cover Reveal and Giveaway
Cover Design: By Hang Le

add to Goodreads
My brother and sister found their calling and people to share it with for the rest of their lives. Our parents haven’t said a thing, but I can read it on their faces. What are you doing with your life, Matthew? I’ve always been a songwriter but can no longer find the words. Everyone around me thinks I’m where I am in life because of my parents. I’m at a crossroads in my life and I don’t know which way to turn. I don’t define my sexuality, I do what feels right. Love? Well, that is one melody I have yet to find the right notes to. Until them… Thea My childhood glittered with the lights of Hollywood while my adult life has been filled with the darkness of my ghosts and addictions. But all that is behind me and I am working on spinning the pain of my past into the promise of my future. Love? Well, that’s one addiction I have not yet dared to fool with. Until them… Tristan I’m running from a life where my future was decided for me. What to wear. Which company to manage. Who to marry. One day, I snapped, and I haven’t been back since. Now I manage my own businesses and I am who I want to be. But behind closed doors, I am still alone and I still long for things that I’ve been taught to hate. Love? Well, that’s one merger I’ve never braved. Until them… Warning: This book contains two sexy hunks and is not recommended for the faint of heart. This is a long, thought-provoking read which will work through the angst of finding love amidst past hurts and the pain associated with not belonging, not fitting in.  

Where Is Aggie Now? Agatha Levitz was released from her second trip to rehab late last year. Since then, her online presence has been nonexistent, and she has disappeared from her former home of L.A.
Chapter One
Matthew Maroon 5’s “Sugar” blares through my ears as I walk inside Black Out, a nightclub located in downtown Malibu. My eyes adjust to the darkness, the strobing lights, and the sporadic laser effects bouncing off the walls. My gaze lifts. I admire the high ceiling, and observe the second-floor balconies that are filled with patrons drinking and dancing. I make my way through the dance floor. Swaying, sweaty bodies press and rub against each other, some against me. It’s been a long time since I visited a place like this. The stench of alcohol, adrenaline, and pheromones hit my nostrils. Man, I feel fucking old at thirty. I should start rethinking my life and go back to partying. A thought for another day. At the moment, I have to focus on the sweet little blonde taking me to the office of my brother’s business partner. She makes a right, leading me down a darkened hall toward a massive oak door. The sign next to it reads Manager. The girl, whose name I never learned, wiggles the door handle, and opens it. “Mr. Cooperson, Mr. Decker is here for you.” Before I step inside the office, Beyoncé’s “Drunk in Love resonates through the walls. I wonder why the sudden change in rhythm from snappy to a more somber kind of music. Checking my watch, I realize it’s almost two o’clock in the morning. Tristan Cooperson lays his pen down and lifts his head. And Oh. Holy. Shit. Those piercing dark green eyes make contact with mine. I drink in the gorgeous specimen before me. His dark, short hair highlights his facial features. A five o’clock shadow covers his chiseled jaw. His back straightens and his palms lay flat on the desk as his eyes penetrate mine. Fuck, I don’t know whether he’s undressing me or trying to eliminate me with that glare. All I know is that the room’s temperature just increased by a whole lot. I’m burning from the inside out. “Thank you, Becky. Please close the door on your way out,” he says, shifting his eyes toward the door. “What’s so urgent that couldn’t be handled over the phone, Decker?” I stare at Becky, watching her hips sway while she follows his directions. As the latch clicks, my attention goes back to him. “She’s hot. Are you tapping her?” “Yes, she’s something,” he agrees smirking slightly. Once again, he doesn’t disclose much about his taste in women—or men. I know he’s attracted to me, but he seems to fight it. There are so many questions swirling in my head when it comes to him, but with that major wall he puts up between us, I’ll never find my answers. “But I make it a rule not to mix business with pleasure.” “If she wasn’t your … staff, would you do her?” “Decker, concentrate.” He snaps his fingers at me. “What are you doing here?” I walk closer to his desk, and the oak, mossy scent of his fragrance replaces the mix of club stench from outside the door. My entire body goes into red alert. I reach inside my jacket and unfold the NDA as I hand it to him. He takes a quick look at it and starts shaking his head. “Another fucking NDA?” The thud his hand makes as it slams against the desk makes me jolt. “I’ve already sworn never to speak about your family. Parents, siblings, or goddamned pets. What is it now?” Touchy. I retrieve the paper back from him avoiding his gaze. It’s hard for many to comprehend why we need an NDA, but for me it is natural to hand them to business partners or employees. My fathers, the patriarchs of the Decker family, like to keep their private life within the family. It’s what my parents decided once they became a couple. Being celebrities made them news. Chris Decker is a famous rock star from the ’80s, and Gabe Colt is a critically acclaimed award-winning actor. And yep, both are men. These days it is hard to understand why a gay couple would want to hide their relationship, but back in the ’80s, when their relationship started, it had to be kept under wraps if they wanted to protect themselves and us—their children—from gossip. If it hadn’t been because of their rules, we would have become an attraction from day one. Watch the latest news about the triplets of the famous gay couple. These contracts are created to protect my loved ones and keep them far away from the media. There’s always a foe, or a contractor ready to find some important piece of information about our lives and sell it to the highest bidder. That’s why I brought this with me, to make sure Tristan doesn’t leak any information regarding the family, like Jacob’s recent nuptials. Of course, Jacob, my triplet, didn’t mention that Tristan already signed one when we spoke on Saturday during his wedding reception. He only told me to inform Tristan he’d be out of town for a few months and that I’d be in charge of all his shit. Shit which includes Thrice, the nightclub Jacob and Tristan are opening next year. I always cover my bases when I have to deliver any kind of sensitive information about my family—including the secret wedding. Jacob Decker became a solo act and with his new fan base, it’s in his best interest to remain single and detached. At least that’s what Pria, his wife and PR rep, said. “Jacob got married this past weekend. He’s going to be out of town on his honeymoon. You and I will spend more time together.” I wiggle my eyebrows as I slide into the chair in front of him. His growl is priceless. “I’m hurt.” I touch my chest, then lean closer as I lower my voice. “Your mouth says you don’t like me.” I give him my best cocky wink. “But your body screams that you want me.” I rise from my seat. He tries to laugh off my comment even though we both know it wasn’t intended as a joke. “I’m not gay like you, Matthew,” he says. My eyebrows lift because he’s assuming. If I’m seen with a woman, I’m straight. Yet, if I’m with a man, I’m automatically deemed gay. I like and enjoy being with both—but despise labels. “My taste is … different. We’re different, Matthew,” he says, his emotionless eyes narrowing on mine. “You wouldn’t understand.” “Email me your travel schedule,” I say, placing my business card on top of his desk. “When you’re working in Seattle, you can stay at my place. There’s no point to waste money on hotels when I have plenty of room. I’ll give you a set of keys and the code since I travel about as much as you do.” And with that perplexed look now covering his face, I turn to make my exit. “Decker?” he calls after me as I’m about to open the door. My shoulders hunch, as I wait for him to insult me again. “Are we okay?” I spin around, leaning against the heavy door and watching this contradictory man who, I’m guessing, has no fucking idea what he wants and is afraid of who he might be. I set my gaze on his and wait a few breaths as I search for an answer. An answer for what … What does he need, and can I give it to him? I don’t know. He shuts me down every time I try to start something with him. I shrug. “You tell me, Cooperson,” I respond crossing my arms. “I hate labels. And no, I’m not gay. I sleep with whoever I’m attracted to.” I press my lips together halting any more words from escaping, as I feel they’re coming out all wrong. But in part that’s the truth. “I like women, men … I don’t like to label who I am. I find you strikingly hot.” Tristan’s eyes narrow, his hands become two fists, and his jaw twitches. “In my mind, there’s nothing wrong with telling you because your body responds to me. If you’re straight, you might want to rethink a few things because your reactions toward men say something else.” I shrug and immediately regret saying the last sentence. Holy shit, I hit a nerve. Tristan stares at me, the strength of his glare unsettling. Awkward. Yet I can’t help it but ask, “So, you only sleep with women? Is that it?” He gives me a blank stare, and his hands are no longer a couple of fists. “Have you ever been with a man?” He remains stoic, though begins to fidget with his pen. “I’ll take that as a yes all round. Is it me, then?” He blows out a noisy breath. “You’re a public figure, Matt. You’re comfortable with your sexuality—whatever that might be. Good for you.” I flinch at his last words, releasing my arms. Oh man … he’s in the fucking closet. I run a hand through my hair, my long strands falling onto my forehead. “I prefer to keep my business to myself.” His head drops, and he stares at the desk. He’s piqued my curiosity and I want to discover what’s behind that façade. It might eat him alive if he continues to hide behind it. I push myself off the wall, walk to where he sits, bend down, then kiss his cheek. Fuck. How I want to do much more than simply kiss his cheek. “Around me, you can be yourself. I will never judge you, Tristan.” I place my hand on top of his. “Whenever you need me, I’m here for you,” I whisper and leave the room.
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About the Author
Claudia Burgoa_alt logo Born on the mystical day of October 30th in the not so mystical lands of Mexico City, Claudia grew up with a childhood that resembled a caffeine-injected soap opera. Seventeen years ago she ventured to the lands of her techie husband—a.k.a. the U.S.—with their offspring to start a new adventure. She now lives in Colorado working as a CFO for a small IT company, managing her household filled with three confused dogs, said nerd husband, two daughters wrought with fandoms and a son who thinks he’s the boss of the house. To survive she works continually to find purpose for the voices flitting through her head, plus she consumes high quantities of chocolate to keep the last threads of sanity intact.  
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