Sunday, March 2, 2014

Blog Tour Giveaway & Review of RARE AND PRECIOUS THINGS (The Blackstone Affair #4) by Raine Miller


Title: Rare and Precious Things (The Blackstone Affair #4)
Author: Raine Miller
Genre: Erotic Romance
Length: 400  pages
Released: February 28, 2014




The fourth part in the New York Times bestselling series, The Blackstone Affair: A bright beginning for two damaged souls fighting for their hard-won love, and the promise of a new hope to secure their happily ever after.  

Fresh from an idyllic honeymoon along the Italian coast, the Blackstones prepare for the birth of their precious baby and the challenges of settling into a new home. But things get complicated when specters from the past reappear to threaten the very foundation of their relationship. Ethan and Brynne will have to fight harder than ever for each other. Rare and Precious Things is the story of two people who both need the other in order to be complete, but learn just how "rare" their brand of love is when they have to risk everything in order to hold onto it. 





We both stood there panting, our faces so close, but yet, not touching; him in his tux with the purple brocade vest, me in my vintage inspired lace wedding dress, the sexual tension crackling in the air between us like a raging electrical storm about to go nuclear.


I told Ethan what I wanted.

“I n-need to get ready for you,” I managed on a shaky breath, hoping he understood this was something important to me.

He swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple flex at his throat. “All right,” he said slowly. “I’ll do the same.”

I looked back to where the glow from the en suite bathroom showed me the way. “Where will you go?” I asked him, feeling slightly guilty about kicking him out, even if for just a short while.

“The adjoining bedroom is also very nice.” He gestured toward a door in the wall to the left of the bed. “These old manor houses always had lord and lady connecting bedrooms so they could meet up for the real important, private stuff that happened in the night.” He drew a finger across the low neckline of my bodice, moving especially slow over the swell of my breasts sitting against the lace of my gown.

“Oh? The important private stuff you say.”

“Undoubtedly, baby. The shagging…is…very…very…very…important.” He gave me soft, seductive kisses between each of the words.

“Which room are we in right now? Lord’s or lady’s?” I asked breathlessly.

He shrugged. “No idea. Don’t care either. I shag and sleep wherever my lady is, and I always will. Pick a room, Mrs. Blackstone.”

I sighed with need and forced myself to take a step backward, creating some distance between our bodies. “Okay…how does this room in fifteen minutes sound?” I stepped backward again, moving closer toward the bathroom door, my eyes never leaving his blues as they tracked my movements.

Those same beautiful blue eyes also glittered at me with all the shuttered heat of a man who would be ravishing me very soon. Please, and thank you.

He gave me the serious Ethan-stare, the one I’d seen many times and was well familiar with—the one raw with male prowess…and the overpowering sexual dominance.

“Like fifteen minutes too fucking long, my beauty.”









Brynne and Ethan are newlywed. This is such a happy occasion for both. In the 4 months they have known each other, they both have faced danger, death, and survived their pasts, although damaged. As they begin their new life together, their all consuming love protects them and helps them begin the long road to recovery, and regeneration of their hearts, with the bright future of a baby coming.

Both of them must deal with the demons from their pasts individually and together. Just like any other marriage, that first year together serves to bond them and develop their trust level in order to provide a strong foundation for a long lasting marriage.


As they seek this balance individually and together, new obstacles continue to test their resolve and love. Only Raine Miller with her masterful pen can describe Ethan and Brynne's innermost fragility. We finally come face to face with Ethan's torture during those 22 unending days in the hands of the Taliban. And as for Brynne, the inevitable confrontation with Lance will rock the reader to the core. Only by facing the past can these two lovers heal and move on.


As for the baby... well, you will just have to read this book. I would not want you to miss the exhilaration of this new life's birth. You will thoroughly enjoy reading how Ethan handles it all!


Once again I bow to the gift Raine Miller has given us with this series. I wonder if this will be the final installment? Somehow these characters have become too important for us to just bid them goodbye!








Raine Miller has been reading romance novels since she picked up that first Barbara Cartland book at the tender age of thirteen. And it's a safe bet she'll never stop, because now she writes them too! Granted Raine's stories are edgy enough to turn Ms. Cartland in her grave, but to her way of thinking, a hot, sexy hero never goes out of fashion. A part-time teacher and writer of sexy romance stories every other chance she gets pretty much fills her days. She has a handsome prince of a husband, and two brilliant sons to pull her back into the real world if the writing takes her too far away. Her sons know she likes to write stories, but gratefully have never asked to read any, thank God! Raine loves to hear from readers and to chat about the characters in her books.



AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA | AMAZON AU


Other books in this series:


NAKED (BOOK 1)

Goodreads | Amazon US | B&N | Kobo


ALL IN (BOOK 2)

Goodreads | Amazon US | B&N | Kobo


EYES WIDE OPEN (BOOK 3)

Goodreads | Amazon US | B&N | Kobo






CHERRY GIRL (BOOK 3.5)
Blackstone Affair spin-off, yet can be a standalone


Goodreads | Amazon US | B&N | Kobo

 











a Rafflecopter giveaway

Promotion of Thrown for a Curve by Sugar Jamison


Title: Thrown for a Curve
Author: Sugar Jamison
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Length:
Released: February 25, 2014

BLURB


WHEN YOU’RE A big girl there’s more of you to love.


Cherri has often wished she were thin and graceful like a ballerina instead of being a six-foot-tall blonde with curves that require serious caution. Surely a charming Irishman like her new boss Colin, with his throaty brogue and to-die-for bod, would never go for someone like Cherri. Unless maybe he’s looking for the exact opposite of a delicate lass? 


When Colin hired Cherri to work in his furniture-restoration shop, he had his eyes, first and foremost, on her artistic talents. But now he can’t help but see Cherri for the lush, spirited beauty that she is…and, soon enough, he finds himself mixing business with pleasure. But Cherri turns out to be more vulnerable than she appears. Is she in need of more than Colin can give? Or could it be that a feeling stronger than lust has him thrown for a curve?


EXCERPT

“Colin?”
He looked up at the sound of a female voice calling his name. Cherri stood in the doorway of his shop, bundled up in a hat, her homemade scarf, and a puffy coat.
His heart malfunctioned at the sight of her, performing some kind of stupid squeezing thumping thing.
Something was wrong. She had never stepped foot in his territory before.
“Cherri?”
He took two steps toward her before stopping. She held some sort of wooden box in her hands. It was in pieces, and judging by the look on her face she wasn’t too far from fall- ing to pieces herself.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, his mind chanted. He wasn’t sure he could take it 
today.
She looked unsure for a moment, taking a step backward. “Are you busy? I—I don’t want to bother you if you are.”
“Come here, love.” He stayed frozen as he watched her come toward him. Even in a too-puffy coat that hid far too much of her body, she was lovely to look at as she crossed his shop.
“I can’t pay you much,” she said, handing the pieces of the broken box to him.
“But do you think you might be able to make it play again?”
She looked so innocent, so heartbroken, as if somebody had stomped on her favorite toy. “You don’t have to pay me anything, you daft girl.” With his head he motioned toward the stool he kept at his workbench. “Sit. I’ll take a look at it.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, flashing him those pretty dimples of hers. “Baba was so upset that she dropped it. I want to make it whole for her.”
He had yet to examine the box or to focus on her words. He was too busy watching her strip out of her winter gear. Under it she wore a pink cardigan with a white tank top that was just low-cut enough that he could make out the tops of her buttermilk-colored breasts. A voice, probably his conscience, ordered his eyes upward.
She’s not what you need right now.
His gaze traveled to her head and the ugly wool hat she wore on it. It was the last to go, and he stared as her rowdy mane of golden hair tumbled to her shoulders.
She really had no idea how beautiful she was. No clue. He had heard her say that she was built like a lumberjack but all he saw was a tall curvy goddess. Even with her cheeks red from the cold and her eyes glossy from the wind she was lovely. It made him forget that she was the last person he should be attracted to.
“What?” Her emerald-colored eyes widened and her cheeks darkened with embarrassment. “If you tell me I have snot on my face I’ll die.”
“No.” He chuckled. “I was wondering if you walked here. You look a bit like a Cherri Popsicle.”
That I would like to lick.
He mentally castigated himself for that one. He lost all common sense around her.
“I did walk here. But I walk everywhere and it’s not be- cause I own the world’s shittiest car. Walking helps me keep my big bottom from spreading into a huge one.”
But I like fat-bottomed girls.
Colin kept his mouth shut to make sure his inappropriate response didn’t come out. An image of her very curvy be- hind shot into his mind and . . . Knock it off!
He shook his head and finally looked at the box. “So you’ve brought me a music box.” He studied it for a few moments. It was factory- made, mostly cheap wood.
There was nothing spectacular about it except for the intricate pink roses painted on the lid. That alone made the box worth saving.
“Beautiful.” He glanced up at Cherri. “You wouldn’t happen to know who painted this? This is some of the best detail work I’ve ever seen.”
She beamed at him, dimples flashing, skin glowing. He gulped. “I painted it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Her eyes lit. “Dorky art major. Remember? My painting skills make up for my lack of beauty and grace.”
“You’re very beautiful, Cherri,” he said without thinking. “I don’t think you realize how exquisite you are.”
“Exquisite?” She laughed that deep throaty laugh of hers, and heat unfurled in his gut. “You must get a lot of ass.”
“What?” Her statement knocked him off guard.
“Ass? Tail? Panties dropping? Any of those ring a bell? I’m saying that you must have a lot of women trying to have sex with you. Probably some men, too.”
The blood rushed out of his brain as soon as the word sex formed on her lips.
Shit.
She was just twenty-two years old. And in the two years he had known her, he had never seen her date. He had never seen her with a guy. She was mature for her age
but she had this innocence around her. And yet something about hearing those words come from her mouth made his remaining brain cells malfunction. She was the only woman he had a hard time keeping his cool around. He was more than just attracted to her and he wasn’t sure why.
“For fuck’s sake, Cherri, where the hell did that question come from?”
She waved a dismissing hand at him. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t know. The brogue, the pretty words, not to mention the way you look, all make you deity-like with your sex appeal. You probably don’t have to work hard to get women to drop their drawers.”
No, he never did. Using his hands and getting women to fall into bed were the only things he excelled at. He was like his pop that way. It took running into an ex whose name he couldn’t remember to show him that. So many women. So many empty I love yous. It never took away that empty feeling in his chest. He promised himself he wouldn’t say those words again unless he meant it.
“But you don’t have to use any of that charm on me. I won’t fall for it. Well . . .
Not too hard,” he heard her say when he tuned back into the conversation.









About the Author
Sugar Jamison is a southern belle trapped in a New Yorker's body. With a love of big hair and high heeled shoes, she spends her day at her very normal day job and night dreaming up sweet but sassy romances.








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