Blog Tour: Repeat by Kylie Scott

From New York Times bestselling author Kylie Scott comes an irresistible new romance.

When a vicious attack leaves 25-year-old Clementine Johns with no memory, she's forced to start over. Now she has to figure out who she was and why she made the choices she did - which includes leaving the supposed love of her life, tattoo artist Ed Larsen, only a month before.

Ed can hardly believe it when his ex shows up at his tattoo parlor with no memory of their past, asking about the breakup that nearly destroyed him. The last thing he needs is more heartache, but he can't seem to let her go again. Should they walk away for good, or does their love deserve a repeat performance?

Repeat is available for purchase:

"A page-turning romantic feast that will have you desperate for more. I was immediately hooked." —#1 New York Times bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken

"Kylie Scott has long been one of my favorite authors, and oh, did she crush it with Repeat! I loved every page. Witty, swoony, sexy romance weaved in a mystery that will have you hooked. This one goes to the top of my 2019 favorite reads." —A.L. Jackson, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

Buy on Audible now!! https://amzn.to/2OvgSMi

"This book. You need this book. Repeat is everything I wanted in a romance. I was not expecting the delicious intensity, the amazing heroine, the delicious hero, and the banter only Kylie Scott can write. This book is pure magic." —L.J. Shen, USA Today bestselling author

"Kylie Scott's vivid characters, amazing writing, and a plot to keep you glued to the pages makes Repeat a must read!" —Donna Grant, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

Excerpt

“Amnesia,” he mutters for about the hundredth time. Usually, ‘fuck’, ‘shit’, or some blasphemy follows that statement. This time, however, there’s nothing. Maybe he’s finally getting used to the idea.

I sit on the opposite side of the booth, inspecting the cocktail menu. It’s as gross and sticky as the table.

“Can I get you guys something else?” asks the waiter with a practiced smile.

“I’ll have a piña colada.”

“You hate coconut,” Ed Larsen informs me, slumped back in his seat.

“Oh.”

“Try a margarita.”

“What he said,” I tell the waiter, who presumably thinks we have some kinky dom-sub thing going on.

Ed orders another lite beer, watching me the entire time. I don’t know if his blatant examination is better or worse than my sister’s furtive looks. He’d suggested going back to his place to talk. I declined. I don’t know the guy, and it didn’t feel safe. So instead we came here. The bar is dark and mostly empty, given it’s the middle of the afternoon, but at least it’s public.

“How old are you?” I ask.

In response, he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and passes me his driver’s license.

“Thank you.” Information is good. More definites. “You’re seven years older than me.”

“Yeah.”

“How serious were we? Did we stay together for long?”

He licks his lips, turns away. “Don’t you have someone else you can ask about all this? Your sister?”

I just look at him.

He frowns, but then sighs. “We saw each other for about half a year before moving in together. That lasted eight months.”

“Pretty serious.”

“If you say so.” His face isn’t happy. But I need to know.

“Did I cheat on you?”

Now the frown comes with a glare.

Despite his don’t-fuck-with-me vibes, it’s hard not to smile. The man is blessed in the DNA department. He’s so pretty. Masculine pretty. I’m not used to being attracted to people, and he’s giving me a heart-beating-harder, tingles-in-the-pants kind of sensation, which is a lot new and a little overwhelming. Makes me want to giggle and flip my hair at him like some vapid idiot.

But I don’t. “It’s just that I’m getting some distinct vibes that somehow I’m the bad guy in all this.”

“No, you didn’t cheat on me,” he growls. “And I didn’t cheat on you either, no matter what you might have thought.”

My brows jump. “Huh. So that’s why we broke up?”

“This is fucked. Actually, it was fucked the first time.” He turns away and finishes the last of his beer. “Jesus.”

I just keep quiet, waiting.

“You have no memories, no feelings about me whatsoever?”

“No, nothing.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw, his hands sitting fisted on the table.

“It’s called traumatic retrograde amnesia,” I say, trying to explain. “What they call my ‘episodic memory’ is gone—all my memories of events and people and history. Personal facts. But I can still make a cup of coffee, read a book, or drive a car. Stuff like that. Things that were done repetitively, you know? Not that I’m allowed to drive at the moment. My car’s sitting outside my sister’s house gathering dust. They said to give it some time before I got behind the wheel again, make sure I’m okay. Also, apparently the part of my brain in charge of inhibitions and social restrictors, et cetera, is a bit messed up, so I don’t always react right, or at least not necessarily how you’d expect me to behave based on previous me.”

“Previous you?”

I shrug. “It’s as good a label for her as any.”

“She’s you. You’re her.”

“Maybe. But she’s still a complete stranger to me.”

“Christ,” he mutters.

This is awkward. “I’m upsetting you. I’m sorry. But there are things I need to know, and I’m hoping you can help me out with some of them.”

Clementine wakes up after a vicious attack with no memory of her former life. She's forced to start all over again and figure out who she is and, basically, try to put her life back together. One piece of the puzzle is her ex, Ed. For reasons she can't remember and at present time cannot fathom, she broke up with Ed a month before her accident. Now, she's trying to figure out why. Ed is at a crossroads. He's trying to help the (former) love of his life try to put together the pieces of her life back together while trying to keep his own feelings in check. This is a second chance story with a bit of a twist. An easy read to get through and enough twists to keep you guessing until the very end! 

About the Author

Kylie is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author. She was voted Australian Romance Writer of the year, 2013 & 2014, by the Australian Romance Writer’s Association and her books have been translated into eleven different languages. She is a long time fan of romance, rock music, and B-grade horror films. Based in Queensland, Australia with her two children and husband, she reads, writes and never dithers around on the internet. 

Connect with Kylie Scott on:

         

Blog Tour: Sweet Mercy by Nina West

In a world where he can have anything, he wants her.

From the author of the sinfully sexy and highly addictive The Wolf Hotel series comes a seductive and tantalizing new novel, Sweet Mercy!

Nina West's Sweet Mercy is now available and FREE in Kindle Unlimited! Grab your copy today!

One visit to my father in prison—convicted for a murder he didn’t commit—and I’ve attracted the attention of the last man I’d ever want knowing that I exist.

Gabriel Easton. 

Son of an infamous crime boss. Pretentious liar. Merciless womanizer. A scoundrel to the core.

Worse, he has figured out how desperate I am to protect my father from brutality behind bars. He has the power to grant that protection and he has offered it … for a price.

Me.

I am to become a prisoner in his playhouse mansion, to live with him until he tires of having me around.

I'll do anything for my father, including agree to Gabriel's cruel game. But I won't comply with his every whim and wish. 

Not when he taunts me with that ruthless spark in his cold blue eyes.

Not when he requires that I share his bedroom at night.

Unfortunately for me, I think my loathing for him is what he’s enjoying most.

That's fine. By the time I’m through with him, he’ll be crying my name.

Mercy.

**Sweet Mercy is the first book in the Dirty Empire series.**

FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED! GRAB YOUR COPY TODAY!
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Excerpt

~Mercy~

I check my watch for the hundredth time.

11:40 a.m.

That’s three hours and ten minutes of sitting in this bland, uncomfortable waiting room, even though I made sure to arrive at eight thirty sharp this time, when visiting hours opened.

If there’s one thing I can say about Fulcort, it’s that it’s quickly becoming as predictable as a thief browsing a shop full of jewels.

And, I swear, that woman who just passed into security arrived well after me. So did the last five people they called. But I don’t dare complain. That leering, strip-search-threatening security guard from last weekend is there again today, stealing frequent looks my way that make the hairs on my arms stand on end.

With a heavy sigh, I sink back into the LSAT prep text book I borrowed from a friend, keeping one ear perked for my name to be called. It’s hard to focus—what with all the buzzers buzzing and people milling impatiently and Pervy Parker’s brusque barking—but time is not a luxury I can afford to waste, not if I’m actually going to pay the registration fees and take this test in the fall.

In my periphery, I sense a figure approaching, and a moment later they settle into the chair directly beside me. Even though there’s an open section across from me that would give this person—this male, based on the black Adidas and dark wash jeans that I can see from my hunched angle and the spicy cologne I just inhaled—an empty seat on either side of him. But, no, he has to sit down

right

beside

me.

I grit my teeth, annoyed. But I’m in a prison waiting area and likely to go in soon, so there’s no need to cause a potential scene by getting up and moving. Either way, I shift my body to give him the back of my shoulder.

“You want to be a lawyer, huh?” the stranger says, and somehow his deep, raspy voice slides down my spine like liquid honey.

And now he’s reading over my shoulder.

As much as I’d like to ignore him, my father’s words from last weekend about making enemies ring in my ear. I don’t need to be making enemies around here either. “Yup,” I murmur politely, but keep my head down.

“Smart and beautiful. I haven’t had that combination. Yet.” There’s no mistaking the humor in his voice. Or the insinuation.

Had?

Yet?

This is where my politeness ends. “Look, no offense? But I’m not here to get hit on by….” The rest of the words fall off as I turn to find myself caught in intense blue eyes the color of nightfall.

Oh shit.

It’s the guy from last week. The sexy-as-all-hell guy.

The one visiting the mob boss.

I clear my throat several times as a wild rash of flutters stirs in my stomach.

His lips curve into a knowing smirk, as if he can sense my reaction. He’s somehow even more attractive today. Almost model-pretty, with that cutting jawline, high cheekbones, and deep-set eyes. But the thin layer of stubble coating his cheeks, the rough hands, the slouchy, legs-spread way he sits in that chair radiates masculinity.

Pretty, but likely dangerous, I remind myself. God only knows how dangerous. This guy was visiting Fulcort’s version of Al Capone last week. For all I know, he’s a mob henchman. Maybe he knows where that missing witness went.

Maybe he’s the one who helped make him disappear.

I need to stay far away from this man.

“I’m no expert, but I’m guessing lawyers who can’t find their tongues don’t do very well in that profession.” His gaze drops to my mouth, where it sits for several beats. “Sorry, what were you saying? Something about not being here to get hit on by…?”

I clear my throat again. Being outright rude to him would be as stupid as welcoming his cocky version of flirtation. I settle for polite honesty. “By anyone.” But especially not by the goddamn mob.

“I guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t hitting on you then.” His dark blue eyes drift casually around the room. “You’re not my type.”

“Well… good.” I duck my head as I try to shake my embarrassment. What is his type, I wonder? Silicone-filled, no doubt. Likely also dubious morals and a loose—

“Who are you visiting?”

“My father,” I find myself answering before I can stop myself. I hesitate. “You?”

He smirks. “Same.”

My stomach drops. This guy isn’t a mobster minion. He’s the son of a mob boss. Is that better or worse?

I picked up this series in anticipation of what was to follow from the author of The Wolf Hotel series that I reallllllly enjoyed. I wasn't quite sure what to expect with mob bosses and the premise of the actual story. What I did want was more of Nina's writing and the sexiness of her characters and this book definitely delivered. The chemistry between Gabriel and Mercy is red-hot and you are not deprived of that raciness! Didn't love that it ended in a cliffhanger just because I hate waiting for next installments! I hope it can wrap up this somewhat far-fetched pair as nicely as they've begun.

About the Author

Nina West is the author of the sinfully sexy and highly addictive The Wolf Hotel series. She enjoys binge-watching holiday movies, quoting lines from Friends, and weekend wine-touring (but will settle for anything that gets her a glass of wine.) She lives in the city but spends her summers in the wilderness with her husband.

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Blog Tour: The Last Wingman by Daisy Prescott

Jonah Kingston is the last wingman standing.

June Moxee doesn’t care if he’s the last man on earth.

I haven’t exactly avoided relationships, but love has never been a priority. Solitude doesn’t bother me and being alone doesn’t mean being lonely. Until she moved to the island and I had to reconsider everything.

June seems content running her yarn shop, knitting with the local church ladies, and avoiding me. She’s a temptress in a handknit sweater. And for some reason, she’s not a fan of mine. It might be the tattoos. Or the beard. Or the fact that we’re polar opposites.

A woman has finally caught my attention. Too bad she thinks she hates me.

Good thing I’m stubborn enough to try to change her mind.

The Last Wingman is the sixth standalone, lighthearted small town romance in the Wingmen series. You do not have to read the previous books first to enjoy this book.

The Last Wingman is available for purchase:

This is the final and much awaited installment in the Wingman series. We finally get Jonah Kingston's story and I was definitely not disappointed by the way it panned out. A story of opposites attracting, we find Jonah and June overcoming their misconceptions of each other. Daisy did a really good job of giving these two quirky characters a super cute story. An easy read, perfect for Spring Break, her writing is so enjoyable. Let me say how super sad I am that this is the last book in the fantastic Wingman series!! 

About the Author

Daisy Prescott is a USA Today bestselling author of small town romantic comedies. Series include Modern Love Stories, Wingmen, Love with Altitude, as well as the Bewitched and Wicked Society series of magical novellas. Tinfoil Heart is a romantic comedy standalone set in Roswell, New Mexico. Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog Mulder, and an indeterminate number of imaginary house goats. When not writing, she can be found in the garden, traveling to satiate her wanderlust, lost in a good book, or on social media, usually talking about books, bearded men, and sloths.

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