Friday, March 16, 2018



The End Zone, a sexy sports romance from LJ Shen is coming April 1st!

The End Zone
Author: LJ Shen
Release Date: April 1st
Designer: Letitia Hasser at RBA Designs
Photographer: Rafael Catala
Model: Jorge Del Rio


Jolie Louis is a smart girl.
She knows that her best friend, Sage Poirier, is a bad idea.
He’s a walking, talking cliché. The Adonis quarterback with the bulging biceps and harem of fangirls trailing behind him on campus like a stench you can’t get rid of.
Sadly, it is also the very reason she can’t seem to stay away from him.
No, wait. That’s not fair. They’re also roommates, at least until May, when they graduate from college.
Jolie is already straddling the line between friendship and more when Sage comes to her with an offer she cannot refuse: be his fake girlfriend and live for free for the rest of the semester.
She tells herself that she can handle it.
He’s just the boy she saved ten years ago, right?
Wrong. So very wrong.
He is a man now, and she is his captive
Heart, body, and soul…

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About LJ:

L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat. Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets peoples’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards. She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.

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Thrilling Ethan by Anna Paige

Title: Thrilling Ethan
Series: A Thrill of the Chase Novel
Author: Anna Paige
Genre: Contemporary (Rocker) Romance
Release Date: April 6, 2018 Cover Design: JM Walker with Just Write Creations
Leading a double life isn’t easy. 
Leading a double life when you’re famous is nearly impossible. 
Luckily, I'm always up for a challenge. 
For years, I’d balanced both worlds. 
More than that, I was killing it. 
A successful music career,
Drummer for the most popular rock band in the world,
And I’d amassed a huge following as a painter—
Even if no one knew it was me.
I had it all.
Or I thought I did. 
Then I went toe-to-toe with my alter-ego’s biggest fan,
Who tried to throw me out of my own art show.
And made me realize exactly what I’d been missing.
The thrill of sharing my secret bonded us,
But that wasn’t why she consumed me.
I never bought into the idea of love as the ultimate muse.
Emily Westin was about to make me a believer.
I could tell the second I laid eyes on her that she was going to give me shit. The way she looked me over with thinly veiled disgust and squared her delicate shoulders. How she marched my way with purpose and efficiency across the floor of the art gallery. It was enough to make my dick stir despite having just come in from the frigid New York weather—not an easy feat when the temps had plummeted and my manhood had climbed nearly to my throat to avoid the cold. She narrowed her eyes at me, and my cock twitched again. 
Nice to see you’re out of hiding there, sport, but you’re barking up the wrong tree with this one. 
She looked entirely too hostile for the filthy things my poor, misguided penis had me thinking.
“Excuse me, but the gallery is closed for a private event.” She was gorgeous in her simple black gown and blazing red heels. She wore a thin gold chain at her neck with a small diamond pendant and matching earrings. Her shiny blonde hair was pulled up in a severe twist, her makeup understated and alluring. Her stunning green eyes were the only sparkle she needed, and they were serving her well. 
I liked her understated style. 
She had a hint of a southern drawl, and I liked that, too. 
“I’m aware,” I told her, nodding over her shoulder. “I was told I could stop by before the event to have a look around.”
She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest and once again looked over my worn jeans, dark shades, and hoodie—the last of which was pulled up to cover my head and part of my face. “I wasn’t aware that the Unabomber was on the guest list.” Her nose wrinkled in the most adorable way, and I nearly laughed. 
Seriously, I was popping the biggest ‘hot for teacher’ boner just watching her disapproving frown. She reminded me of the TA I’d had a crush on back in high school—only ten times sexier. “I’m assuming you’re referring to the poker player who used hoodies to obscure his face rather than the actual terrorist.” She had such an expressive face; no way would she ever be able to play poker. 
“I’m undecided,” she offered in a clipped tone as she glanced around, presumably looking for backup. “And you need to leave. Guests will be arriving soon; ones who are fully aware and respectful of the dress code for events such as this.” Her eyes narrowed, and she surprised me by stepping closer, entering my space. “I’ll not have you disturbing anyone or disrespecting the work being showcased here tonight. Now, I’ll ask you one last time to please leave.”
“Emily? Is there a problem here?” An older gentleman approached from the back room, his brow furrowed as he took in my attire and returned his attention to her. 
So, her name is Emily. Hmm, I like it. Suits her.
She quirked her mouth and watched me as he approached, answering without looking away. “This…” Her lip curled in distaste, and I had the insane urge to bite it. “Party crasher won’t leave. He says he was told to ‘stop by’ before the show tonight to look around.” God love her, she even used air quotes, and her southern accent was ramping up as she got progressively more irritated. 
When the older man didn’t respond, she looked from me to him. “Arthur, did you hear me?”
I’d kept my eyes predominantly on her, but realizing his silence, I flicked my gaze to him and found him staring wide-eyed in my direction. “Are you…?”
I nodded quickly and returned my attention to the trim, golden-haired spitfire who was still in my personal space. So close, in fact, that I could smell her perfume, which was amazing: crisp and light, with a fruity note that made me want to lick her. 
She glanced up at me and stepped back as if she was just realizing how close we were standing. Satisfied that she was at a safe distance, she looked back to the older man expectantly. “Well? Anyone want to clue me in? Preferably while we’re all still reasonably young. I have to get things ready in case the artist shows.”
“I thought the artist was a recluse, secretive to the point that no one had actually met the man,” I interjected, suppressing a smile. 
She gave me an annoyed look. “It’s rumored that he sometimes attends his showings as a guest, just to see how his work is being received. On the off chance that the rumor is true, I want everything perfect in advance of his arrival.” The way she spoke made it clear she was a fan of the artist, so much so that her fluid green eyes actually danced despite her annoyance at my intrusion. She managed to fangirl without gushing, which was something I wasn’t used to seeing. In my line of work, gushing, crying, and even being hit with a hail of still-warm panties was the norm from fans.
Maybe if I took off my glasses she’d gush a little. 
Would she even recognize me? I wasn’t as front-and-center as the rest of the band, being that I was always behind my drum kit, but I still had a pretty massive following. Thus, the need for anonymity when I was out and about. 
“Emily, maybe you should run along and finish up. I’ll take care of Mr.—um, this gentleman.” The man looked at me with a shrug, not sure what to say to her but having clearly decided she needed not be privy to my identity. 
I disagreed. 
I bent forward and gave her a disarming smile. “The artist thinks you’ve done an amazing job already. Don’t touch a thing. It’s all perfect.”
“And how could you possibly know that?” she snipped. 
I straightened up and tilted my head down, letting the corner of my mouth quirk up in an ironic smile as I peered at her over the top of my glasses. 
She just stared at me for a minute, her initial frown morphing before my eyes. She went from annoyed to confused to excited to mortified in the span of a few seconds before making a long gasping sound low in her throat. “Oh, shit.” Her face went white, and one hand came up to clutch her chest over her heart like it was hammering behind her ribs.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a spur of the moment decision. The owner and curator had both signed NDAs, but she hadn’t. I wanted to be worried about it, but standing there, watching her slowly turn green, I just couldn’t muster enough self-awareness to care. All I could focus on was her and how she staggered back, apologizing profusely before running off in the direction of the ladies’ room. 
The curator—I believe she called him Arthur—looked at me sheepishly. “Obviously, that wasn’t the welcome I’d envisioned for someone of your reputation and talent. I can only assume it fell short of your expectations, as well.”
If he’d seen some of the greetings I’d gotten over the years from the droves of Thrill of the Chase followers, he wouldn’t have bothered asking such a stupid question. “I’ve had better,” I deadpanned.
Anna Paige is the author of the Broken series, the Thrill of the Chase series, and Off Script, a sexy standalone romance.
She lives in a rural town in North Carolina where the only activity is the rhythmic color change of the solitary stoplight and a very real threat of being carried away by mosquitoes. The only alternative to terminal boredom is writing, making life interesting if only on the page. 
Anna is happily married, with one amazing son and a pair of hilarious pets. When she’s not writing, she’s trying to make a dent in her TBR pile. Given that she’s constantly adding new titles to the list, the chances of her ever finishing are slim.
And she’s completely fine with that.


For Crosby by J. Nathan

Title: For Crosby
Series: For You Series
Author: J. Nathan
Genre: NA Sports Romance
Release Date: March 14, 2018 Cover Design: Letitia Hasser @ RBA Designs Cover Photo: Lindee Robinson Cover Models: Daria Rottenberk and Logan Parks
Crosby Parks had the life most guys only dreamed of. A wealthy family, girls vying for his attention, and pro scouts after his hockey skills. But when the life he knows comes crumbling down, he’s sent to Alabama to escape the media storm and to rebuild his life. If Crosby has any shot of playing professional hockey, he must keep a low profile and graduate from college. But the second he steps foot on campus, keeping a low profile becomes impossible. 
Sabrina’s mind is made up. After encouraging Alabama’s star wide receiver to friend-zone her and pursue someone else, she’s determined to focus on herself and stop being everyone’s trusty sidekick and shoulder to cry on. But when she stumbles upon a naked hockey player tied to a tree in the middle of the night, Sabrina’s life is thrown upside down. Because when you leave someone tied to a tree, they eventually get free.
A New Adult Sports Romance in the For You Standalone series. This is book three. Each book follows a new couple and can be read as a complete standalone.
His fingers, spread on my hips, slipped around to my stomach. I wanted to fight it. Wanted to step away from him. But the hum of my body wouldn’t allow it. He lowered his head, burying his nose into my neck. “You smell amazing.” Though my thighs quivered, I tried to remain indifferent. “It’s called sweat.” His body shook with laughter. “Well, then I’d like nothing more than to taste your sweat.” The thought of his lips on my neck sent a delicious shiver rocking through me. “Do lines like that normally work for you?” “Who said it’s a line?” His hands slipped under the hem of my shirt and coasted across my stomach. “God, you feel amazing.” “You’re a horny guy. Of course, I do.” He shook his head, his nose running along my jawline. “I may be horny, but you still feel right in my arms. I’m wondering how you’d feel beneath me.” I jerked away from his grasp, spinning to face him. “That.” I jammed my finger into his chest. “That right there is why this was a bad idea.” The traitorous hum of my body persisted as the lights flashed across his confused face. “It’s like you’re capable of being normal for like two minutes then you turn into an asshole. I don’t get it. And I’m over it.”
J. Nathan is the author of new adult and sports romances with cocky heroes and sassy heroines. When she's not writing, she's a total romance junkie! Add an alpha male who's unlikable in the beginning...even better. She loves watermelon margaritas, guys in backward hats, country music, the summertime, and her amazing family and friends.