Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Re-Reveal! New Name! New covers! All by Ilsa Madden-Mills


Re-Reveal! New Name! New covers!

Welcome to Briarwood Academy where love can be a little bad, a lot wicked, and sometimes twisted.

 FOUR RED-HOT BOOKS about the BAD, WICKED and TWISTED characters of Briarwood Academy, featuring a dirty-talking gym owner, a football player, a sexy rock star, and a British bad boy.

ALL BOOKS ARE ON SALE and FREE ON Kindle Unlimited!



Very Bad Things (Book One)
ONLY $0.99 (Standalone)



Blurb
Leaving behind her mansion and Jimmy Choos, Nora Blakely becomes a girl hell-bent on pushing the limits with alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex.

Then she meets her soulmate, but he doesn’t want her.

Sexy gym owner Leo Tate has one rule: never fall in love…until Nora shows up with her list of bad things. He resists the pull of their sizzling connection, hung up on their age difference.





Very Wicked Beginnings
(Dovey and Cuba--prequel novella)
ONLY $0.99


Blurb
When wicked ballerina Dovey Beckham meets football star Cuba Hudson, she didn’t plan on having her heart shattered into a million pieces. He’s the bad boy with a dark past, and when he falls for Dovey, he knows she can’t be part of his future.





Very Wicked Things
(Dovey and Cuba)
Amazon UK ONLY $0.99: http://amzn.to/28VMLsO

Blurb
Dovey Beckham is a ballerina from the wrong side of the tracks. Cuba "Hollywood" Hudson is a wealthy football player with fast cars and even faster girlfriends.

Their passion is electric, their connection deep, but once in a lifetime kind of love doesn't come easy, especially when dirty money, past sins, and old flames come calling.






Very Twisted Things
(Standalone- Violet and Sebastian)
ONLY $0.99!


Blurb
Violet St. Johns is a talented violinist hiding out in a Hollywood mansion, struggling to forget the devastation of her parent’s sudden death.

Vital Rejects front man Sebastian Tate sees the elusive girl in the mansion next door playing her violin nude, and they begin an erotic game of spying.

When they finally come face-to-face, sparks fly and clothes comes off. But giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s.




About the Author

Wall Street Journal best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She's addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, and Instagram.

She has a degree in English and a Master's in Education.

When she's not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.


Order of her books and Amazon page


Designer: Luminos Graphic House
Photography:Michael Stokes
Model: Leon Scott


Designer: Luminos Graphic House
Photography: Michael Stokes
Model: Attila Toth

Designer: Luminos Graphic House
Photography: Michael Stokes
Model: Mike Thurstson



The British are HERE!  
DIRTY ENGLISH

Are you ready for Filthy English?
Add to your TBR for a July 11th release here: http://bit.ly/28MpTlk


GIVEAWAY
$25 Amazon Gift Card



Monday, June 27, 2016

Rebel Wheels Series by Elle Casey

A 5 star series for me! I love when friends become family and there are 3 hot men in the mix too.
Rebel Wheels Series Reading Order 
Rebel Wheels: Book 1 (Rebel)
Rebel Wheels: Book 2 (Hellion)
Rebel Wheels: Book 3 (Trouble)

Content Warning: Contains sexy adult situations, creative foul language, and some mild violence. May not be appropriate for younger readers.

Teagan Cross, college senior, rebel, and wiseass extraordinaire, goes from princess to pauper in a single phone call. Overnight, her life of privilege becomes one of survival, and no matter where she turns, it seems like the world is out to get her. She's not going to fall apart, though. She's a rebel and she's strong … determined to live life on her own terms … and nothing's going to stop her from getting things done and making things right. But when a twist of fate brings her to the doorstep of a different kind of Rebel, she's forced to figure out when something's worth fighting for and when something's worth letting go.

Rebel (Rebel Wheels book #1)
 5 stars 
Have you ever read one of those books where you hate the lead female character and want to slap her? Ask yourself over and over can someone really be that stupid or immature? Then out of nowhere it seems that you fall in love with that same immature, slightly crazy, sometimes annoying, huge heart, messed up, and scared character. Ok well if you have then you know how I feel about Teagan. If you haven't then maybe I am just crazy and need to rethink how I feel about fictional characters.

Oh where do I start?!? Well, how about I loved the story even though a few things bugged me. Yes a few things bugged me, like some of Teagan's personality. She was suppose to be a senior in college but sometimes she acted like she was in middle school. It was no big deal really and maybe that is how some seniors in college are. As I read more and more of the story I actually started liking her more.  With her few quirks that annoyed me a bit I still fell in love with her heart and was drawn to read more and hope that she would get her happily ever after.  Her life was turned upside down and when she met Rebel it didn't automatically get better and that is what I really loved about this story. It was slightly different from other things I had read but not so much that it was a totally new thing.  I loved that Rebel was the strong silent type and became kind of the glue to keep everything together. He was there for Teagan but he didn't really tell her what to do or go all alpha on her. He let her find her way but guided her. It was sweet the way he came off as a total ass to everyone but let her see all his layers.
There was so much in the story line that had you laughing, heartbroken, and asking how can that even be? It showed that life is not perfect, friends can truly be family, and that life does go on even when you think you are not strong enough to take anymore. I can't wait to move on to book 2 and see where it goes.


Quinlan Torres has responsibilities - one more year of college, a brother who needs a lot of extra supervision, and a best friend in the middle of a hostile takeover of her late father's company. The best thing for her to do would be to keep her head down, her eye on the ball, and her mind clear of any distractions. Problem is, her best friend's boyfriend has this brother...

Hellion (Rebel Wheels book #2)
 4 stars 
Jumping right in to this one. Ladies first, as in the lead lady. Just like in the first book I was not a big fan of Quin. She was obnoxious, often rude, and frankly a little ditzy. She was suppose to be this smart college student that really seemed to have no brain. I tried to like her but her only redeeming quality was that she was 100% loyal to her friends and she loved her little brother who had some major problems. If it hadn't been for Mick aka Hellion then I'm not sure I would have read it. It was all him and his swoon worthy self along with the little side stories of the other characters that kept me in this one. Mick was sexy, sweet, and full of swagger! You could tell he loved his brothers but you could also tell that there was something he needed to find to complete him.  Getting more of the story from Rebel and Teagan's story and learning more about Mick and his Colin is really what had me hooked. Mick had the whole party boy thing but going but I could tell right off that he wanted someone to love him for him and he wanted someone he could love too. I was glad to see that Quin wasn't a complete selfish bitch when she felt like she had to help Alissa and brought her in. That mad me like her a little bit. It also got me really excited for the next book because I think Colin is my favorite of the Rebel Wheels bunch.



 Alissa Benson used to have plans. Big ones. Important ones. But all those plans went down the drain on her twenty-first birthday, and now she's just trying to pick up the pieces and manage the fallout. Sure, there are people wanting to help. But they're pushy and suffocating and none of them can say more than ten words without cussing. And then of course there's Colin. As if life isn't complicated enough. He's the guy who couldn't stand to even look at her last week but now seems to keep popping up every time she turns around. She'd like to say she can't stand the sight of him, but that would be a lie. It doesn't matter, though. Life is too complicated for dreaming about guys like him. Alissa has a baby almost due, no job, no money, and there's nothing she hates more than being a burden. But when her past moves into her present, threatening to take away her very last shred of dignity, she's forced to reconsider everything she ever thought she knew about the world and herself.


Trouble (Rebel Wheels book #3)
 5+ super sexy stars 
SWOOOON!!! This is my favorite of all the books in the series! Colin is the bad boy who is suppose to be all kinds of trouble but he is... so gooooood. He is made out to be the one that will amount to nothing, has sex with every girl he sees, and can't stay out of jail in the first book. Then you really get to meet him in the second book and find out that he has a bad temper but can be sweet if you give him a chance. Then in this book you find out that he is sweet, funny, creative, and sexy. I mean you can feel the heat from him coming out off the book. I think I saw steam coming from my kindle! From the start of it I knew there was more to him than anyone knew he just needed someone special to help him find his way.

I was unsure about Alissa at first. I couldn't tell if I felt sorry for her or what. I knew she was hiding something from everyone and I had a pretty good idea what it was. I liked her but I also wanted to slap her at times. She was whiny and ungratful. BUT I connected with her and most of the time just wanted to grab her and hug her. A few times I wanted to grab her and ask her what the hell she was thinking but I guess I am a little paranoid and don't trust people.


This one had me laughing at 4% in and it kept it up. Then all the emotions had a chance to roll in and hang out because there was anger about the way Alissa's parents treated her, sadness for Colin with his sister's story, fright for what Randy & Charlie were going to do, and happiness for them all. I still would love to have another book to tie all of there stories up and really get a good closing but it gave me enough of a happily ever after that I can use my imagination and fill in the details.


Where to buy:
You can find links to all these books and more of Elle Casey's website at http://www.ellecasey.com/rebel-wheels/

Want to know more about Elle Casey find her online here:
Goodreads Author page
Twitter @ElleCasey
Website
Facebook

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Filthy English by Ilsa Madden- Mills Excerpt Reveal



Chapter 1


Remi

Plain and simple, this night sucked.
Sadly, it was my honeymoon.
I sighed heavily and gazed around Masquerade, an intimately lit London nightclub where everyone wore black domino masks, some elaborate and some plain, to hide their identity. A few die-hards even sported dark clothing with long, loose cloaks. Not me though. I’d gone modern with a slinky little number and three-inch heels, putting my height at nearly six feet. Yep, I’m the giant in the blue dress, towering over every girl and some guys at the bar.
My top teeth dug into my bottom lip as I gazed around the smoky club, my eyes bouncing off random faces. Even in a room full of party people, music, and strobe lights, I was lonely.
My groom was missing.
That’s right. Hartford Wilcox, Jr., aka Mr. Nice Guy at Whitman University in North Carolina, had jilted me two weeks before the big wedding day as we had dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, Mario’s.
And now here I was—on my honeymoon and getting trashed with my best friend Lulu who’d decided to skip her beach vacation and come with me at the last minute.
She poked me with her finger as we sat in front of the heavy wooden bar of the club. “Hey, Earth to Remi, get that glazed look out of your eyes and order a drink already. I’m thirsty.” She fluffed her pixie-cut pink hair and straightened her black tutu, eyes scoping out the club. “Dang, the men in here are hotter than a billy goat with a blow torch,” she said in her honeyed southern drawl.
I half-heartedly agreed, not really caring, more intent on scanning the bottles behind the bar. “I want tequila,” I murmured. “A whole bottle.”
Her face snapped back to me and her green eyes widened. “Uh-uh. No way. I know what happens when you drink that crap. You either eat a ton of tacos and puke, or you wrap yourself around some cocky bastard with a well-developed tush.”
True. I did love a tight muscular ass.
But I wouldn’t get one tonight.
A short laugh burst out of me, one of those I’m-miserable-but-pretending-to- be-okay-laughs that I’d been doing a lot of lately. For the past two weeks, I’d vacillated between a sobbing mess and an angry woman who became so incensed that “fuck” was the only word that seemed appropriate in any given situation. Going to the post office to mail he dumped me, but thank you anyway cards. Fuck. Going to the wedding venue and not getting the ten thousand dollar deposit back. Fuck. Realizing I was homeless fall semester—which was in two weeks—fuck. Listening to my mother tell me it was my fault. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The bartender delivered my bottle and poured me a shot. I sucked the tequila down while Lulu watched me warily. It tasted like bad decisions and gasoline, but tonight was about forgetting. The sooner the better.
A few minutes later, Lulu went out to dance with a British guy she’d been making eyes at. I sat glumly at the bar, fiddling with my diamond tennis bracelet, rubbing it like rosary beads. I needed to forget Hartford, and according to Lulu, that meant hooking up with someone.
Was she right?
Fate answered in the form of a beautiful man—and by beautiful I mean drop-dead sexy with a backside so delectable and muscular my mouth plopped open.
I snapped my lips shut and adjusted my velvet half-mask—the annoying feathery plumes on the sides kept sticking to my red lipstick—and turned ever so slightly to check him out, not wanting to appear obvious. He slid into the seat next to me, tall and broad with rippling shoulders and a massive frame.
I checked my appearance in a mirror behind the bar, mentally analyzing the odds of a girl like me snagging a hottie like him.
Although no one had ever called me beautiful, I did have two—okay, maybe three—things going for me in the looks department. My shiny, golden-brown hair that hung down in waves to my shoulders, my fluffy “pillow lips” as Lulu described them, and lastly, I had an itsy bitsy space between my two front teeth which were otherwise white and perfect. Lulu claimed the gap lent me an exotic look, like Madonna or Sookie Stackhouse. Whatever. I was a True Blood fan. I went with it.
He shifted on the stool, leaning closer to me. His cologne swirled in the air, the smell of expensive Scotch and musk mingling together to create a heady, slightly dangerous scent. I paused, goosebumps rising on my bare arms. The spicy whiff triggered a distant memory just out of reach.
As slyly as I could, I studied his profile from top to bottom. Like me he wore a black mask, although his was more masculine, not hiding his chiseled, movie star jawline. His lips were carnal and luscious, the bottom more plump than the top with a slight indentation in the middle. As I watched, his tongue swept out and caressed it, his top teeth biting it as if he were deep in thought. He raked a hand through his dark, longish messy hair, held it suspended above his head for a few seconds and then released it, letting it swish back into its tousled yet perfect place.
I tore my eyes away.
Something about him sent loud warning bells ringing in every atom of my body.
Danger, danger. Don’t touch that.
But my gaze would not be denied as I took in the tight black shirt and sculpted chest that was obviously used to the inside of a gym, right down to an arm that looked like it could snap a board in half—or me.
Nice biceps, Mr. Beautiful.
The pièce de résistance was the vivid blue and orange dragonfly tattoo displayed on his left arm. It was larger than my hand and took up most of his bicep. My eyes traced the contours of the design from the papery wings to the multi-faceted eyes. A bold black color outlined the insect, giving it a masculine feel.
Gorgeous.
True Religion jeans stretched down long legs and ended in a pair of black Converse without socks, giving him a boyish quality that was in direct contrast to the crazy-sexy-bad-boy vibe he had going on.
Him tonight?
Maybe. He was the polar opposite of Hartford who was blond, lean, and tattoo-free.
I nibbled on my fingernail. How do I get him to notice little ol' me?
Just then a redhead with fluffy Farrah Fawcett hair strode up to his stool, bold as brass, wearing a tight, white mini-skirt that barely covered her booty. She brought with her the smell of sweet, cloying perfume, the kind I always got spritzed with at the mall.
She flicked her hair over her shoulder, casually rubbed her finger down his arm and struck up a conversation. Her fake, black lashes—which she’d somehow managed to get outside the eyeholes of her mask—batted. She puffed out her well-developed chest.
He smiled back at her with a wicked grin, his relaxed body language telling me he was confident when it came to women. She whispered in his ear, boobs right in his face, but whatever he said back wasn’t what she wanted to hear because a few ticks later, she crossed her arms, glared at me, and stalked away.
I blinked. What had I done?
Then he turned and pointed his devastating smile at me.
Shit, he’d made eye contact—as much as you could with a claustrophobic mask on.
But wait…
Was he crazy?
Because if he’d turned down her flirtation, I didn’t have a shot.
I didn’t know how to do the fingers-tip-toeing-up-his-arm-thing and sexy hair flicking. I didn’t know a thing about applying fake eyelashes. I didn’t know how to make my breasts sit up that high. I looked away from him and took another shot, feeling anxious and strangely off-kilter.
Mr. Beautiful ordered a drink from the bartender, his British accent smooth as silk as it washed over me. I froze. I almost knew that voice—deep with soft rounded vowels that made you tingle in your lady parts.
What was it about this guy that had me all jacked up and hot for him?
Hello, tequila, my inner voice said. But it was more than that.
Getting brave, I pivoted on my barstool, and found Mr. Beautiful’s eyes on me once more, searching my face. As if he too recognized the pull between us.
My heart played hopscotch, jumping against my chest. My skin prickled. I shivered.
Did I know him?
It clicked.
Dax Blay?
It was his voice, the same deep quality, the kind of voice that made you want to hop into his bed and ride him like a cowgirl.
My breath hitched, and I swallowed down the emotion that zipped up my spine whenever I thought of him. He was my one mistake, the time I’d tossed inhibitions and carefully laid plans aside and went with my instincts, only to have them tossed back in my face.
But the man next to me wasn’t Dax. Thank God.
Last spring at the campus-wide end of the year fraternity party with Hartford, I’d seen Dax, and he’d had shorter hair, like always, and zero tattoos. Yeah. No way.
Plus, last I heard, he was in Raleigh where his father lived.
Yet…
Dax was British. He could have family here. Maybe he got a tattoo?
Nah. I mean, what were the odds of us both being at the same club on the same night in a country where neither of us lived?
I tore my eyes off Mr. Beautiful and waved at a bartender for more limes, but somehow my tennis bracelet snagged on the bodice of my dress, leaving my wrist dangling like a wet dishrag in a most inappropriate place.
I wiggled my arm.
Jiggled it.
Even went so far as to jerk, but it wouldn’t separate.
Sweat popped out on my forehead. Holding my breath, I twisted and tugged the bracelet, forcing the delicate material in my bodice to stretch beyond normal limits.
“Well, hell,” I breathed, pausing to assess.
Skin-tight with a plunging neckline, the dress was mostly a stretchy fabric held together by sequined straps and a zipper on the side. Slated as part of my honeymoon wardrobe, it was a Tory Burch and had cost four hundred dollars, the most I’d ever paid for a fun outfit, and no way did I want to damage it. I might have to return it to rent an apartment at Whitman.
Lulu. I needed Lulu. She was a whiz with wardrobe malfunctions.
I spun around on the barstool and used my free hand to wave at her, but she was slinging herself around dancing, having a great time and completely oblivious. I resorted to flapping both hands at her, one high and one low. Several people waved back with baffled expressions, but Lulu didn’t notice. Dammit.
I groaned and slumped down in my seat, ready to scream. Now what? Go to the bathroom and repair it there? Good plan.
But the club tilted when I stood, the strobe lights making me squint as they flashed in my face. I wobbled in my leopard print heels—that Lulu had insisted I wear—and grabbed the stool to keep my balance. `
I sucked in a breath to gather myself, but I couldn’t think straight. The room spun, and I was suddenly queasy, and why did I slam all that tequila, and oh my god, my wrist is currently attached to my tit like a T. rex arm.
I had to get out of here before someone noticed what an idiot I was.
Trying to be stealth like, I reached across the bar to get my beaded clutch, but because it was my left hand and not my right that I used most of the time, I got off balance and stumbled—and my ankle folded in on itself. I yelped as my shoe catapulted off my foot and vaulted off toward the dance floor, while I fell forward, straight into Mr. Beautiful’s lap.

Filthy English (unedited excerpt)
Copyright Ilsa Madden-Mills


The British are HERE! 
Are you ready for Filthy English?
Add to your TBR for a July 11th release here: http://bit.ly/28MpTlk






Blurb


A smokin’ hot British player…
A jilted girl…
One night of mistaken identity…

Two weeks before her wedding, Remi Montague’s fiancé drops her faster than a drunken sorority girl in stilettos. Armed with her best friend and a bottle of tequila, she hops a plane to London to drown her sorrows before fall semester begins at Whitman University.

She didn't plan on attending a masquerade party.

She sure didn’t plan on waking up next to the British bad boy who broke her heart three years ago—the devastatingly handsome and naked Dax Blay. Furthermore, she has no clue how they acquired matching tattoos.

Once back at Whitman together, they endeavor to pretend they never had their night of unbridled passion in London.

But that’s damn hard to do when you live in the same house…

One night. Two damaged hearts. The passion of a lifetime.

*A modern love story inspired by Romeo and Juliet*





About the Author
ilsa madden -millsa.jpg
New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She's addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she's a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.

She has a degree in English and a Master's in Education.

When she's not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.


SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

You can stalk her on her website as well as get signed books: http://www.ilsamaddenmills.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorilsamaddenmills?pnref=lhc

IG: https://instagram.com/ilsamaddenmills/

Twitter: @ilsamaddenmills


Ilsa Madden-Mills’ other books:

VERY BAD THINGS

VERY WICKED BEGINNINGS
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1K5NvX8

VERY WICKED THINGS
VERY TWISTED THINGS