Toy Girl by Savannah Maris

Release Date: October 17, 2019

Genre: Romantic Comedy Standalone

Cover Design: JM Walker @ Just Write Creations

Photographer: R+M Photography

Models: Kaman Sheldon and Madison Rae

Synopsis

Nothing good ever comes from a beach fling.
Except maybe your happily ever after.

Jessica Compton had her life planned out. When she agreed to be her best friend’s sidekick on a trip to meet her online boyfriend, Jessica left her life plan at home for a week of fun. Ledgers, numbers and a corner office were supposed to make her a happy girl, not six feet of muscle, brown hair, blue eyes, and a New York accent.

Thorton Cresswell III knew how to have a good time. When his best friend asked him to be his wingman on a trip to meet his online girlfriend, Cress readily agreed. Notoriety, fortune, and success were supposed to make him happy, but a five-foot-six-inch blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty with a southern drawl had every cell in his body wanting something he never had before.

The night Jessica spent with Cress cost her more than her virtue, but was it the start of something more? Were they meant to be?

All the best love stories are filled with humor, love, and the magic of destiny…

 

Goodreads

Excerpt

Holy shit.

Jess is hot, and she wants to play. I’ve never been much into role-playing, but I’ll do whatever she wants.

“Yes, Ms. Compton?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did. Is there something else?”

She walks toward me and bends down so her ample breasts are all I see. “I forgot my homework today. Is there something I can do to make up for it?”

I drag my finger over her boobs. “I’m sure we can think of something.” I take the cuffs from her. “We’ll see about using those later. Turn around and touch your toes.” Without hesitation, she does as I’ve asked. She’s not wearing panties, and she’s waxed. When did she do that? Fuck. She’s going to kill me.

“I think I have something in mind.” I stand, rubbing against her upturned ass. “Why don’t we start with you taking off my jeans.”

She rights herself then steps closer. The humor in her eyes tells me she’s enjoying this. Her fingers deftly unfasten the button and slide the zipper down. My dick springs out and almost hits her in the face as she squats to remove my shoes and jeans.

She giggles. “You’ve done that before.”

I smile as I step out of my pants and pull my shirt over my head before lying on the bed. She produces a tube that I didn’t see. “What’s that?”

“A sample I told a sales rep I’d try for him. It’s supposed to help with the gagging reflex during oral sex.”

I waggle my brows. “Sounds good.”

She opens the tube and squirts this thick gel onto her finger then tosses it to me. She rubs it between her thumb and finger. “Doesn’t feel gritty,” she says before she sticks her finger in her mouth. As she brings her finger out, her lips clamp around it, giving the image of her sucking my cock. She’s being feisty.

I don’t wait for permission before I kiss her. My tongue requests permission that she readily grants, and the taste of strawberries floods my tongue. Who doesn’t love strawberries? “Baby, crawl on top and back you ass up here. I want to taste you.”

She giggles like the schoolgirl she’s dressed like. I move toward the center of the bed and help her get comfortable. I kiss the inside of her thigh, relishing her tongue stroking me from root to tip. The tip of my tongue plays with her clit, eliciting a moan. The moment she takes me into her mouth, I’m lost in the sensation. Her head is bobbing up and down as my teeth rake over her sensitive nub. I move my tongue, but I don’t feel what I’m supposed to. What I feel is a wet glob in the crack of my ass.

“Jeth?” What the hell? My tongue isn’t working.

“Huh?”

“Did you juth spit in my ath?”

“I’m thorry. My lipth and tongue aren’t working.”

“My tongue feelth huge.”

“Oh no!”

I roll her off me. She’s laughing so hard she’s crying.

“The gel.”

We rush to the bathroom. Thank God there are two sinks. We rinse our mouths. She grabs her toothbrush, and the toothpaste then hands it to me. We’re brushing our teeth. Her tongue is out, and she’s scrubbing that baby like there’s no tomorrow.

She points her toothbrush at me. “I’m telling him thath a no go.”

“No go? Tell him I’m thuing for damages if I can’t taste you again. Is it swollen? It won’t fit in my mouth.” I stick out my tongue.

Her shoulders shake, and the tears are flowing from laughter. She shakes her head as she tries to speak. “No.”

I run a washcloth under hot water then cleanse myself as I point at her pussy. “My tongue wath in there. You may want to wath before you can’t feel anything.” This was not how I saw tonight going. I wanted to make love to her before our big day tomorrow. “Leth go to bed. Maybe it’ll be worn off by morning. We need to leave early anyway.”

She nods, but the look in her eyes says she’s disappointed.

Giveaway

One of Five ARC’s for Toy Girl

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About the Author

I’m Savannah Maris, a southern girl and hopeless romantic. I’m passionate about writing stories that incorporate southern charm with a little spice.

I grew up on a farm in a small southern town with a love of sports, dance, and music which usually find their way into my books. My husband and I have two grown children. When I’m not writing, my husband and I are attending sporting events, traveling, or working.

What will find in my books? You’ll find suspense and romance in the Riverton Crossing Series. If contemporary romance is what you’re looking for, try Crossroads of the Heart.

Connect with Savannah

Newsletter Sign Up: http://bit.ly/2L6hdDG

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Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2AGMtHV

BookBub Author Page: http://bit.ly/2tmISfY

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Book Blitz: Relatively Happy by Whitney Dineen

Relatively Happy
Whitney Dineen
(Relativity Series, #3)
Publication date: September 18th 2019
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Sarah Hastings’ life is chaotic. Between running her organic farm, her yurt-style holistic B&B, and her vegan café Eat Me!, she barely has time for an aura cleanse. What’s more, her spirit guide just announced the universe is sending her a man.

Suddenly, a sexy pro-football player, a hipster photojournalist, and fellow organic farmer practically fall from the sky onto her doorstep. But which one is her cosmic soulmate?

While Sarah meditates on the answer, her parents show up unexpectedly throwing the mother of all monkey wrenches into her carefully laid plans.

With only morning yoga and her erotic book club to keep her sane, no wonder she’s chucked her vegan diet in search of bacon. Will the stars of love align, or will the universe let her down in the biggest way possible?

Relatively Happy is a laugh-out-loud, cry-your-heart-out tale that will have you believing in the beauty of life’s journey.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

“Relatively Happy hit my happy spot. This story is not only funny, but it will tug at your heartstrings. Whitney Dineen has another winner on her hands. Bravo!” -Jennifer Peel, Amazon bestselling author of My Not So Wicked Boss

“Relatively Happy touches on love, life, dreams, and wishes. Dineen brings a new perspective which ends this series with a laugh-out-loud, cry-your-heart-out tale. Life is more like a roller coaster rather than a merry-go-round. I loved it!” – 5 Stars, AJ Book Remarks

“Another delightful, yet deep page turner by the talented Ms. Dineen! I laughed, I cried, I swooned, and I pouted that I have to wait for more from one of America’s most fabulous romcom voices.” -Melanie Summers, author of the bestselling Crown Jewel Series

“So many emotions in this book! I laughed out loud and I cried. I loved every second of this fantastic read!” – Becky Monson, author of Just a Name

—

EXCERPT:

I try to regain control of the class and reiterate, “Time to thank our breasts.”

“Out loud?” Emily gasps.

“Totally, out loud. We’re here in a healing sisterhood. There shouldn’t be anything we’re afraid to say in front of each other. Why don’t I start?” I take a deep breath before stating, “I want to thank my breasts for being strong and healthy and pretty darn cute, if I do say so myself.”

Nan pipes in. “Girls, I want to thank you for hiding my belly from me. It’s nice of you to block that little pooch from my view.”

The other gals add their two cents, before Emily says, “Um, thanks for helping me look better in swimming suits?”

Nothing from Dorcas. I nudge, “Your turn, Mrs. A. How have your breasts served you?”

“Well, I guess they fed my babies. So, thanks for that.” Then she adds, “I’m guessing you don’t want me to thank them for the infected milk ducts, all the backaches, and the years of leering men.”

I ignore the unexpected sarcasm and ask, “Anyone else?”

There are no takers, so I jump up and announce, “It’s time to encourage our lymph nodes to open up and drain!”

“How are we gonna do that?” Nan demands.

“Follow me.” I keep my promise and help Nan to her feet before lending a hand to the minister’s wife. Sarah takes care of helping the other ladies. When we’re all ready, I start to skip around the field in zigzagging lines. I feel the warm sun on my face and the soft dandelions underfoot, then I start to wave my arms around like I’m an exotic bird about to take flight. It’s a deliriously freeing sensation.

When I look behind me to see if the others are following my lead, I find my regulars are doing their part, but Nan’s laughing her head off, and Dorcas and Emily look borderline appalled.

“Girl, if Dorcas does that, she’s gonna have black eyes for a month,” Nan declares before doubling over with renewed hilarity.

Dorcas smacks her friend’s arm and snaps, “Don’t be nasty, Bridget. I don’t see you out there flapping around like a lunatic.”

That’s all the encouragement Nan needs to take off like a slightly wounded, elderly, bird of prey. She starts slow, but eventually catches her rhythm and starts to hoot like an owl before she begins clucking like a chicken. “Sarah, this is the most fun I’ve had in ages!”

I hear Emily giggle and mumble, “What the heck?” before she joins in.

Dorcas is totally immobile until Nan runs up behind her and pinches the back of her leg while yelling, “Dorcas, you got a bee up your shirt, gal.” That’s all that is needed to set her in motion.

“Thank your breasts,” I yell. “Tell them how much you love them.”

Nan starts to sing out at the top of her lungs, “Do your boobs hang low, do they wiggle to and fro? Can you tie ’em in a knot? Can you tie ’em in a bow? Can you throw them over your shoulder like a continental soldier? Do your boobs hang low?”

I don’t know how long we skip around the field with our breasts flapping in the wind, but it was a good long while—we probably could have gone a lot longer—but I hear Nan call out, “Hendrix Greer, is that you, boy? As I live and breathe, come over here and give me some sugar!”

Hendrix Greer? Nan’s got to be hallucinating. Rix Greer hasn’t set foot in Gelson since his grandfather’s funeral six years ago. I turn around to tell Nan to quit playing games when I come face-to-face with an image that filled many of my adolescent fantasies.

I stop dead in my tracks with my mouth hanging open like a hungry baby bird. The Adonis standing in front of us is no mirage, it really is Hendrix Greer, the biggest football star to ever call Gelson home. The biggest star of any kind, actually. He played for Notre Dame before turning pro.

Rix was four years older than me, so we were never in the same school at the same time. But man, his legend reigned supreme over our whole town. It still does. It’s just that he’s never here to feed local gossip. Don’t get me wrong, we still talk about him, but not with firsthand knowledge anymore. Whenever Rix shows up in the tabloids with a new woman on his arm, it’s all over the Wash-n-Curl like turkey vultures to a fresh kill.

And here he is, standing right in front of me. I don’t say anything and yet I can’t seem to close my mouth.

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Book Blitz There’s Got To Be A Full Moon! by Kathy Weber

Humor, Comedy

Humorous memoirs of a dog groomer

Date Published: April 2019

Publisher: Page Publishing

Dotty Moran has owned and operated a dog grooming business for forty-six years. She’s had enough laughs out of it to last her a lifetime. Discover the ups and downs of dog-grooming in There’s Got To Be A Full Moon!

About the Author

Some people believe, “Laughter is the best form of therapy.” Author Kathy Weber happens to be one of them.

Everyone has had days when all they want to do is scream, “There’s Got To Be A Full Moon!!!” Kathy, who has owned and operated a dog grooming business for 46 years, has had plenty of these days. She has seen a lot of crazy things and has had enough laughs to last her a lifetime. Kathy and Brad, her loving canine companion, have decided to let you in on some of their experiences.

Though Kathy is first and foremost a dog groomer, she has served in multiple capacities: Dog day care provider, veterinarian, professional dog breeder, expert on raising of puppies, authority on caring for older dogs, groomer of cats, hamsters, guinea pigs, gerbils, ferrets and stuffed animals

In addition to all of this she’s been known to perform miracles!

Contact Links

Publisher’s Author Page

Promo Link

Purchase Links

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Page Publishing

Cover Reveal: About Face by D.E. Haggerty

Title: About Face (Love in the Suburbs #1) Author: D.E. Haggerty Genre:Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance Release Date: August 29, 2019 Cover Designer: Jeroen E. Spaan – Geared Training Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

My grandma is trying to hook me up. To be painfully specific, my seventy-five-year-old grandmother thinks a little hanky-panky would cheer me up. Direct quote. Since I’m currently living with her, I can’t escape the endless line of grandchildren of friends who keep ‘dropping by’ for dinner. Literally, I can’t escape. I can barely manage the trek to the dining room at this point. While Grandma’s determined to find me a husband, I’m determined to learn how to walk again so I can walk away from her matchmaking skills. Spoiler alert: She has no matchmaking skills. But then I get a brilliant idea. I can fake date my physical therapist. Only he wants a real date. Gulp. A real date with me? Is he for real? I’m no longer the stylish girl with the glamorous job. Now, I’m a woman with a shattered leg and a scarred face. If I’m going to learn to live with my new reality and give love a chance, my attitude needs to do an about face. Easier said than done.

AMAZON | APPLE BOOKS | NOOK | KOBO |

I grew up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom’s Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn’t flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But being a lawyer really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out being a B&B owner wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before following the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.

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Book Blitz: All The Wrong Places by Randi Perrin

All the Wrong Places
Randi Perrin
Publication date: June 25th 2019
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

American-born, Australian-raised Rachel Kennedy was born to be an actress–all the way down to her drama queen ways. But when a bad day leaves her life and her dream in ruins, she’s not sure what to do next. Her silver spoon-upbringing never prepared her for that.

With a bank account at nothing and an inability to pull off a convincing accent for casting directors, Rachel’s about to give up on everything. Not on her best friend’s watch. Lily is there to help her every step of the way–if the definition of help involves convincing her to take drastic measures, each one blowing up more than the one that came before.

Once Lily shoves Rachel into the let’s-get-drunk-and-screw-a-stranger phase, she winds up tangled in the arms of Christian Whitmore, a cop with a sinful smile, sexy stubble, and impeccable timing. He’s there to pick her up when she falls and to take her out for fish and chips at her favourite place.

But then again, so is his identical twin brother, Kevin. Double. Trouble.

Stuck at a major crossroads in her life, can Rachel ever find happiness again, or is she just looking in all the wrong places?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks

—

EXCERPT:

“Rachel Kennedy.” The guy wearing hipster glasses and khakis that were an inch too short and showed off his mismatched argyle socks tapped a pencil against the clipboard in his hand and scanned the room. “Ugh, Rachel Kennedy. Going once, twice…”

“That’s me,” I shouted as I stood, crumpling the eviction notice into the bottom of my bag. I waved my hands in the air as if I feared he didn’t notice me in the sea of women in their mid-twenties all vying for the same part.

He gave me a once-over and shrugged. “Right this way, Miss Kennedy.”

Well, at least I didn’t get the snort of derision that directly translates into you don’t belong here that I often get. It’s a step in the right direction.

I smiled, my lucky, last season Louboutins clicking on the dingy, white, tiled floor as I walked past a dozen other hopefuls going through their pre-audition rituals. Some closed their eyes and mouthed their monologues. Others paced the floor. One actress, whom I’ve always admired, had her yoga mat out and was in the middle of a sun salutation.

I needed some yoga right now. Or Xanex. Something to ease my nerves from this audition and the frustration about the eviction notice I pulled out of the mailbox the other day. I know I’m not rolling in the dough—anymore, since Daddy told me it was time to live on my own money instead of his—but I paid my half of rent. There may not be petrol money or much food some months, but that rent cheque clears on the third of the month like clockwork. I knew my boyfriend, Mark, had been struggling to make his half because his hours had been cut at work. Our landlord was none too pleased, but he said he’d work with me. Turns out he’s a liar, because now we’re out on the streets in a week.

Straightening my back as I walked into the dark auditorium, I pushed all my anger and nerves aside. I needed to nail this audition. My career depended on it. I hadn’t had a show since Nunsense a year ago, and with that notice burning a hole in the bottom of my designer handbag, even more was riding on this. My big break had to come soon. My mother never made it as an actress, but by God, I was going to. I was going to live the dream she gave up for me. I knew she’d never see it, but I was still going to make her proud.

The click-clack of my heels gave way to a thunk-thunk as I stepped onto the honey-coloured wooden stage. Standing center stage, I focused on the orchestra pit. Staring back at me were three casting directors, and I had to swallow back the bile that crept up my throat. I wouldn’t have a chance in hell if I spewed on the casting directors. The only person who had ever chucked on a casting director and still landed the role was Cassandra Browne. Just thinking the thought of about her sent a shiver down my spine.

Taking a deep breath, I shook the nervous energy out of my hands.

“Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Kennedy,” said a familiar older man with a bushy monobrow. Directopillar. He had a reputation for being tough to impress. But I had impressed him when I landed Nunsense. I could do it again. No. I would do it again.

I glanced at the other two casting directors but didn’t recognise them. I closed my eyes and gathered everything in me before I opened my mouth.

“Well, Tommy has proposed to me again. Tommy really does nothing but propose to me.”

Fudge cookies! I messed up my accent.

I shuffled my feet as I debated continuing in the contrite southern accent that fell off my tongue like I meant to do it. Or should I stop altogether and ask for a redo? The former would be embarrassing, the latter unprofessional. There was no way to win here. Either way I went, I was a colossal screw-up.

Directopillar paused from taking notes and glared at me, a scowl on his face. I wouldn’t be surprised if his note read, Go back home to the States.

“Excuse me, Ms. Kennedy,” Directopillar said, his proper British accent mocking me. “You are aware An Ideal Husband is set in London, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” I nodded, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t want to see the disappointment painted on his face; the tone of his voice was disparaging enough. “I just thought it might be fun to put an American spin on it. Who better to make fun of than those in the American South?”

“We will not be changing the setting.” He cracked the pencil in his hand and tossed it over his shoulder. “I will give you one more chance—and know this is not a luxury I grant many people. Please start from the top.”

Grateful for the second attempt, I decided to move closer to them, so the emotion I portrayed wrapped them like a warm blanket, leaving them with a warm fuzzy that whispered, “Cast Rachel Kennedy,” for the rest of the afternoon.

I walked to the edge and dropped down to the stage, without showing the casting directors everything I owned—not that it mattered. My boyfriend, Mark, and I hadn’t had sex in so long, I think my hymen had grown back. All I needed was a pair of granny panties, and my transition back to virgin would be complete.

Author Bio:

English may be Randi’s first language, but she’s the most fluent in sarcasm, and it shows in her writing. She is known for creating snarky, realistic characters–badass heroines who can hold their own and flawed, yet lovable heroes. Like Randi, her characters run on caffeine and swear words.

Her characters are often built around dichotomy, much like Randi herself. Although she is the least romantic person in the world, she writes romance. She also refuses to pick a lane on the romance highway, sometimes writing contemporary, other times paranormal, but always smokin’ hot.

She is the author of the Earthbound Angels paranormal romance series, several contemporary romance novellas including Anticipating Temptation and Mi Amor, and a gay romance novella entitled Wreck You. She has also had several short stories published in anthologies. Her next full-length novel, a romantic comedy entitled All the Wrong Places, will be out in Summer 2019.

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Book Blitz: Love At Lakewood Med by TJ Amberson

Love at Lakewood Med
T.J. Amberson
Publication date: June 9th 2019
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Savannah Drake would be thrilled about starting her final year of medical school if it weren’t for one thing: she has to spend a month working in the emergency room with cold, aloof Dr. Wesley Kent as her mentor. When her first day in the ER proves to be a humiliating disaster, Savannah is ready to swear off emergency medicine forever. Gradually, though, she finds that the unpredictable, emotional experience of caring for patients in the emergency room is affecting her far differently than she expected – and Dr. Kent turns out to be anything but the arrogant attending physician that she assumed him to be. But just when Savannah finally admits to herself that she is falling for Dr. Kent, she learns that things at the hospital are not all what they seem. Faced with a seemingly impossible choice, Savannah must decide between her future career and everything that she has come to care so much about.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

“Do you know what you just did?” Doctor Kent puts his eyes on mine.

I stare back at him, my body going cold. I screwed up somehow. That baby might die because of me. I may—

“You ran that resuscitation as well as, or better than, any resident in this hospital would have.” Doctor Kent’s gaze drifts toward Room Fourteen. “Most physicians—even experienced ones—would have understandably panicked around a sick newborn. You didn’t.”

I follow his gaze to the now-vacant room, and remain quiet, letting his words soak in. Once I gather my thoughts, I debate for a second or two before I get up the courage to admit to him:

“This sounds stupid, but I was so focused during that whole encounter that I almost didn’t realize what I was doing while it was happening. It was like I had an invisible shield around me, blocking out distraction and not letting my emotions affect me. Only after the baby was gone did I start feeling it all.”

Doctor Kent doesn’t reply. I blush and reluctantly turn to him again, feeling ridiculous. But Doctor Kent isn’t about to laugh at me. Instead, he has his eyes fixed even more intensely on mine.

“Welcome to emergency medicine,” he says.

I catch my breath as something powerful stirs within me. There’s a moment of unspoken communication between Doctor Kent and me, and then I glance around Fast Track once more. I think that I understand it all a little better now.

Author Bio:

TJ Amberson hails from the Pacific Northwest. With a love of writing in several genres, TJ strives to provide well-written, age-appropriate, & original novels for tweens, teens, and new adults.

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