chick-lit · romance

*Extract* Her Hot Ride – Heather Van Fleet.

Book Description;

Her. Me. Handcuffs. You think you know what we’re up to, don’t you?
I’m Archer.

I’ve been in trouble plenty but I got these bad boys from home.
Emily looks so good handcuffed to me.
This is the only way I could think to stop her.
She found out her mom was in danger and she ran away.
She wants to save her, but we’re at war.
Her brother, my best friend, told me I have to keep her safe.
He trusts me.
Unlike every woman I’ve ever met.
Maybe it’s because I don’t kiss. On the mouth anyway.
But Emily’s the only woman who’s ever stood up to me.
Her thighs keep grazing mine. Her long brown hair tickling my bicep.
Locking her to me and throwing away the key.
I didn’t think this through…

This really revs my engine.

A steamy and unputdownable biker romance, Her Hot Ride will leave you swooning. Guaranteed HEA. No cliffhangers. It can be read as a standalone or as the third book in the Red Dragon biker romance series.

Author Bio;
Heather Van Fleet is a stay-at-home-mom turned book boyfriend connoisseur. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, a mom to three girls, and in her spare time you can find her with her head buried in her Kindle, guzzling down copious amounts of coffee.

Heather graduated from Black Hawk College in 2003 and currently writes Adult contemporary romance. She is published through Sourcebooks Casablanca with her Reckless Hearts series and Bookouture with her Red Dragon series.

Extract;

*Chapter one has been split into 3 parts.

Between The Pages Book Club – Extract 1

Baker’s Not So Secret Blog – Extract 2

A Knight’s Reads – Extract 3*

Chapter One

Archer

Whiskey, women, and wild nights. There was a reason the letter W was one of my favorites in the alphabet. Plus, the woman behind me in my bed currently tracing a nail up my spine was named Willa.

At least I thought she was.

“You can’t give me ten more minutes?” she purred.

“Sorry, sweets.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, stood, then winked. “Got places to be.”

“How about five minutes?”

“No can do.”

I bent over and grabbed my jeans, knowing that even one more minute was impossible. Once the sun hit my face in the morning, I couldn’t sit still. I had a constant need to rise early. I lived to capture the day ahead. And already my mind was wandering away from bed to the shit I had to do today. Tasks to be dealt with, brothers to keep in check, things to get in order for the club… Good old ADHD did a number on not only my mental state but my ability to keep a woman in my bed for longer than a month—sometimes less than that.

There was nothing wrong with Willa or any of the women I bedded. But most were groupies. And groupies were predictable, always looking for a forever with a biker who wasn’t looking for more than a good time. Not that I blamed them. It was just that anything predictable didn’t hold my attention for long enough; didn’t challenge me, force me to focus, surprise me.

I love a good surprise.

I slid my jeans on, taking in Willa’s wild blonde hair. Like every other woman I’ve been with in the past, she’d been trying her best to kiss me, and looked a damn mess because of it. No matter. Pretty little thing like her knew the rules like all the rest of them did: I, Archer Benedict, never kissed a woman. On the mouth, anyways.

“One of the boys will give you a ride home,” I told her, nodding as I picked up my gun and tucked it into the waistband of my jeans.

Her lower lip pushed out into a pout. “Will I at least see you tonight for Flick’s welcome home party?”

“I’ll be around.” I winked then snatched up my wallet before heading out.

With Niyol ‘Hawk’ Lattimore’s house my main goal this morning, I let the door click shut behind me. It was Wednesday, which was also my favorite day of the week because anything with a nickname that started with “hump” was definitely worthy of being my preference. I walked down the hall, turned left, then stiffened at the sight of Talker, one of my club brothers, who was passed out on the floor in front of the couch that sat in the main lobby.

“Would you look at that.” I chuckled under my breath and headed over to him, hovering. Had I ever been this stupid at nineteen? Yeah. I was that stupid now.

The guy was dressed in a pair of skimpy white briefs and nothing more—unless you counted the bright-red nail marks down his back. Least he got lucky.

I nudged him in the ribs with the side of my boot. “Wake up.”

He groaned, rolled over onto his side. “Ten more minutes, Mom.”

I smirked and decided to leave him there. Dumb kid.

The rest of the bar area was empty this morning, other than a cleaning lady.

“Morning.” I nodded at the dark-haired older woman, armed with a vacuum cleaner.

She smiled tightly at me but didn’t speak or make eye contact either. I was pretty sure she was scared of us all, which was why she only came in during the early hours.

The gravel lot was half filled today. A few guys lingered to the left of our body shop—prospects mostly, probably out taking a smoke break. They watched me, but I didn’t acknowledge a single one of them as I stepped toward my bike.

As the VP of the Red Dragons, I should’ve taken the time to get to know the new guys more. But I also knew making nice would make them feel welcome… and feeling welcome would make them weak.

We were at war. There had been no deaths since February, for four months now, but we knew our enemies were out there, ready to pounce at any given second, and we needed to remain at DEFCON 4. Soldiers at the ready.

My brothers weren’t stupid. Nor were they lazy. But they’d grown weak lately, weren’t on guard as much as they should be either, mostly because of the women in their lives. That shit worried me too. Being blinded by the forever kind of pussy? Seemed pointless, honestly. Why have the same meal every night of the week when we had a never-ending buffet readily available right here? A delicious buffet of blondes and brunettes that managed to keep my ass happily sated, thank you very much.

For now, though, we’d agreed that the safest course of action was to do nothing about the war, and it was driving me fucking insane. More than anyone, I wanted to find our enemy, Pops, our former pres, and end this all before shit got even worse—before anyone else had to die.

I stepped up to my bike and studied her angles, bottom lip tugged between my teeth. All curvy, slippery, silver pipes, and a repurposed leather seat that fit me perfectly. I loved my bike almost as much as I loved sinking inside a woman for the first time. She was pretty—not to mention all mine—and I treated her like the queen she was, fixing her up on my own. I’d used old parts and combined them with new. I would’ve killed to run a shop of my own one day. But time was money in my world, and I barely had either of those things at the moment, which was why it was nothing but a dream.

As I straddled her seat, I couldn’t help but stroke her handlebars. Smooth yet rough, my paint job good, but not the best. I revved the engine just once to give her time to warm up before I started toward Hawk’s place at the back of the compound.

chick-lit · Emotional · romance · Young adult

All The Bright Places – Jennifer Niven ★★★★★

Blurb; Theodore Finch is fascinated by death, and he constantly thinks of ways he might kill himself. But each time, something good, no matter how small, stops him.

Violet Markey lives for the future, counting the days until graduation, when she can escape her Indiana town and her aching grief in the wake of her sister’s recent death.

When Finch and Violet meet on the ledge of the bell tower at school, it’s unclear who saves whom. And when they pair up on a project to discover the “natural wonders” of their state, both Finch and Violet make more important discoveries: It’s only with Violet that Finch can be himself—a weird, funny, live-out-loud guy who’s not such a freak after all. And it’s only with Finch that Violet can forget to count away the days and start living them. But as Violet’s world grows, Finch’s begins to shrink.

My Review; I was recommend to read this book by a friend and boy I wasn’t disappointed. It literally is like the next The Fault In Our Stars. The ending broke me. What a brilliant, eye opening story.

The friendship that emerges between Violet and Finch is beautiful, unique and rare. They embark on a beautiful sight seeing journey together which ends with Violet doing it alone… But is she really alone? I had tears in my eyes reading this. There are some gorgeous moments shared between these two.

It’s a story with a hidden message… Thought provoking. It’s still relevant today. Outstanding. Beautifully written. Highly recommend, perfect for fans of The Fault In Our Stars and young adult. I’ve heard it’s being turned into a film? I really hope so. A well deserved five stars from me.

Amazon Link UK

Amazon Link US

chick-lit · Christmas · romance

*Extract Post* Snowflakes Over Moondance Cottage – Rosie Green.

Blurb; When Jess Rigby lost her dad, the family coped in different ways, alone in their grief. Now, her mum seems to be going off the rails and her sister, Isla, who moved to France, is now back and determined to get the old family home on the market. But the last thing Jess wants this Christmas is for renovations to start on the house. It’s sure to stir up old memories she’s desperate to forget. And to make things worse, Isla seems to have hired the most obnoxious builder in the world to do the work. Jess could ignore the fact that women seem to be putty in his hands. But what she finds harder to ignore is the frisson she gets every time she squeezes past him in the mess that is now their beloved family home! Soon, the house begins to give up its secrets, some of them shocking. Can the family finally start talking and find a way to move on from the past this Christmas?

Extract;

My mind is whirling like a big wheel at the fair, thanks to my sister turning up without warning, and I’ve got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s not like her to get drunk. Certainly not in the afternoon.Isla lives for her work and her fitness these days. (According to her posts on Facebook.) She takes selfies all the time, looking slim and perfectly groomed in running gear,setting off on her early morning jog around the streets of Paris (I like her pink lycra two-piecewith the cute cropped top best). Blonde hair in a cute ponytail, she’ll smile and glug down bottled water as she takes the pic, and add some cute comment underneath. Fourteen-hour work day ahead? No problem!

I feel exhausted just looking at her posts sometimes.The last time Mum and I saw Isla was last Christmas when she came back for a flyingvisit. She spent most of the thirty-six hours on her mobile phone, talking business, and we’ve had two phone conversations since then. Both times I called her and both times our conversations were cut short because she had a sudden emergency to deal with. Each time, she promised to call back after she’d handled the problem, and each time, she ‘forgot’.Why is she here now?I can’t imagine it’s because she’s missed us and fancied a heart-warming autumn reunion.

I make for the hotel’s revolving door, leading out onto the high street, recalling the time I got stuck in one when I was about eight. I froze, too scared to move, so I just kept going round and round in it until Dad rescued me. I’ve had a thing about revolving doors eversince.Someone has just gone out, so it’s still going round.I psyche myself up and go for it.

The trouble is, I’m so focused on judging my leap-in correctly, I fail to notice the figure moving swiftly from my left, a little ahead of me. He steps in and, unable to halt my momentum, I stumble in after him.‘Oops. Sorry.’ I stare up at my revolving door companion. It’s a tight squeeze in here, to say the least, and he’s a big man. Very tall and broad. His chest in the fitted denim shirt is inches from my nose and embarrassingly, we appear to be temporarily wedged, the door refusing to revolve at all.

‘This is cosy,’ he comments, his voice a deep rumble.‘Isn’t it?’ I’m staring at his lightly tanned neck which is at eye-level and breathing in his rather delicious man-scent. I laugh nervously. ‘I usually like to have dinner and a trip to the cinema first, before I get this up close and . . . um . . .’ Glancing up, I’m stunned by the startling blue of his eyes and I lose my train of thought completely. ‘Personal. Yes.’ He fills in the blank, with not even a hint of a smile at my stupid joke.

He reaches over my head and then somehow, we’re moving, shuffling round together until the door spits us out onto Lower Luckworth High Street. We exchange a look of bemusement and then he’s gone, leaping behind the wheel of awhite van parked outside the hotel. I watch him drive away, heat flooding my face.

I usually like to have dinner and a trip to the cinema first? God, how embarrassing. I wish it was possible to un-say things. The person who invents that app will be a billionaire. Thinking of his stern, unsmiling face, the words ‘ruggedly handsome’ pop into my head. Those dark shadows under his eyes made him look as though he hadn’t slept properly in weeks, though.

My heart is gambolling about like an untrained puppy told to sit. Probably the result of getting stuck in that damn revolving door. I feel all shook up, to quote Elvis.A few deep breaths then I’ll go back in to face my sister.

Amazon Link UK

Amazon Link US