BLOG TOUR AND REVIEW – The Bachelor Auction by Rachel Van Dyken

 

Are you ready to meet Brock Wellington?

THE BACHELOR AUCTION by Rachel Van Dyken is coming October 4!

Order your copy today!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2cqtEJo

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2casLH2

iBooks: http://apple.co/2c4SmQS

B&N: http://bit.ly/1SKyEdn

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2bgINiM

GooglePlay: http://bit.ly/2bNZuQE

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Synopsis:

Jane isn’t entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start, but didn’t she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding, entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in sight. Until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering if princes—or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire—maybe do exist.

Except Brock Wellington isn’t anyone’s dream guy. Hell, a prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder. Or act like an arrogant jerk—even if it was just a façade. Now, as Brock is waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it’s karmic retribution that he’s tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can’t have. But while they can’t have a fairy-tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy . .

Excerpt:

Jane was pressed so tightly against the wall she would have sworn her body was starting to blend into the wallpaper. Most people didn’t give her a second glance. Then again, she wouldn’t give herself a second glance either.

Women with fake boobs and injected lips mocked her while rich men in three-piece suits completely ignored her.

She self-consciously tugged at hem of the short black dress. In a last ditch effort to modernize the dress, or at least add a bit of spice, she’d grabbed her mother’s long pearls, wrapped them around her neck twice and called it good.

But the minute they’d arrived at the party she’d wanted to disappear. Her sisters were already semi-drunk, thanks to the vodka they’d had in the car. Against Jane’s protests they’d taken shots while she drove. And then she’d paid for parking only to hear them whine that she had parked too far away.

They’d been here for twenty minutes and already she wanted to leave, or at least sit down, but most of the available space was taken by couples talking, eating…kissing.

She was surrounded by the beautiful and rich.

The only reason her sisters had even been invited was because they were complete and total social climbers, and had managed to gain an invitation from a friend who was an heiress to some french fry company.

A waiter passed by with champagne.

She grabbed a glass and downed the entire thing. It didn’t help her nerves, but at least the bubbles semi-calmed her stomach.

Her sweaty feet slid in her too-big red pumps as she pressed harder against the wall to alleviate the ache in her toes.

The music shifted to a loud techno song as the lights went from red to a bright white, and with a gasp she covered her eyes and then blinked a few times to clear her line of vision.

The jumbled sweaty bodies moved aside as the music changed to a slow song. There was just enough of a break for her to see across the room.

“Oh.” It was all she could utter, really the only word she was capable of as her breathing picked up. Without thinking, she grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, suddenly awkward. What was she supposed to do with her hands?

Thick wavy auburn hair fell in disarray over his forehead. It was lush, shiny, perfect. Were guys born with hair like that? Or was his somehow chemically engineered? His full lips pressed together in a secret smile as the equally handsome man next to him said something, then erupted in laughter.

The first man stiffened, then shook his head. His broad shoulders seemed to grow tight as a drum. A slight tic in his jaw was the only clue that he was irritated or maybe outright angry.

And then his shoulders slumped as he was handed another drink and then another.

Nervous. He must be nervous. But what could a man like that possibly have to be nervous about?

He easily towered over most of the men in attendance. Suddenly his posture changed, then he smiled.

Jane felt her mouth drop open in shock.

Dazzling.

He was…like a duke or a lord or a prince from a storybook. Clearly, she read too many romance novels, but his entire presence demanded attention; screamed authority, importance, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Yes, his virility was a tangible thing, as if she could reach out and grasp it with her fingertips.

“What are you doing?” Esmeralda yelled in her right ear, interrupting her blatant sexual fantasy about a complete stranger. Great. That’s what her life had come to. And sadly? It was the most fun she’d had all night.

Jane turned to Esmeralda, prayed for patience, and answered. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“You’re so boring.” Esmeralda rolled her eyes. “No wonder you got dumped.”

Another fun fact? Esmeralda was mean when she was drunk.

The reminder of the breakup burned like acid.

It had been a year ago, not that it mattered. It still hurt that the last guy she’d dated had told her that although she was cute, she wasn’t really doing it for him anymore.

Right. Doing it.

Maybe that was because she hadn’t done anything for him or with him, and he found that lacking. But they’d only dated for a few weeks. Did normal girls do that? Put out after a few weeks? Apparently.

She wasn’t normal.

But if that was normal, maybe she was better off being strange.

“Jane, are you even listening to me?” Esmeralda whined. “Essence needs you to dance next to her for a bit. I’m tired and tipsy. I want to sit. Plus your dress blends in enough that it won’t take attention away from her.”

No way. What? What had she just said?

Jane wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m sorry, what?”

Without warning, Esmeralda grabbed Jane’s hand and jerked her toward the dance floor, causing Jane to lose her footing and crash directly into Esmeralda’s back. Then, like a domino, she slammed back into Essence.

Jane opened her mouth to shout out an apology, but Esmeralda was already too drunk to listen to reason. With determination in her eyes, she reached for the pearls at Jane’s neck but grabbed the fabric of the dress instead.

Her poorly sewn dress ripped instantly, causing the fabric to slink past her strapless bra. A diagonal slit split up her thigh almost all the way to her hip. In an  effort to cover herself, she took a step and tripped, thanks to her clunky shoes.

And then she fell to the floor.

Hard.

Her sisters watched in horror—but neither of them offered a hand. They were probably kicking themselves for forcing her to come. Esmeralda leaned over but missed Jane’s shoulder by a mile, grabbing her hair and giving it a tug, which only made Jane wince harder.

Both sisters were completely tanked.

And she was less than two minutes away from being trampled by the other sweaty bodies around her.

She glanced up.

And into the eyes of the man she’d just been lusting after.

Oh God, the humiliation was complete.

That one glance told her he’d seen it all. She swallowed back the thickness building in her throat. Of course the only time he’d notice her would be when she’d ripped her dress and nearly took out a few guests on her way down to the dance floor.

The crowd gathered around her.

And the sexy man disappeared—probably off in search of a girl with perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect clothes.

She really should have stayed home.

Tears filled her eyes as a heel pressed into her right hand. With a jerk she tugged her hand free, struggling to get up to stand on her wobbly feet, when suddenly she was pulled to a standing position and then swept up in strong arms.

Jane’s eyes were still so blurry from unshed tears she couldn’t make out the man’s face as he carried her out of the crowd.

He smelled like heaven.

She fought the insane urge to press her face against his chest and just…close her eyes.

Because he felt safe.

Pathetic, when a stranger’s arms provided more safety than her own family. And yet he felt…right.

In a world where things for the past ten years had felt so wrong.

He felt right.

Maybe she’d had too much champagne.

“Are you all right?” he whispered in a deep voice with a hint of a southern drawl. He’d brought her into a private room where the music wasn’t quite so deafening.

He set her on one of the black leather couches and shut the door, muffling the music on the other side.

Blinking, Jane glanced up and gawked, like a starry-eyed teenager. He was the same man she’d seen earlier, the one she’d been captivated by. “Yes.”

“Yes?” He looked confused. His amazing eyebrows drew together, and a small line creased the center of his forehead. Even the line was gorgeous, just as gorgeous as the rest of him.

His thickly muscled body screamed power. Her hands slid down the front of his chest. Even his shirt was smooth. She didn’t realize she’d been basically petting him until his muscles tensed beneath her palm. Oh crap.

“I mean, yes, I’m fine.” She tried to stand then fell back down; her stupid heel was broken. “Or I was fine, until I got trampled.”

The line in his forehead deepened. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Jane shook her head then pressed her hand to her chest and gasped out, “My pearls!”

“Wait here.” He held out his hands. “I’ll get the necklace, I’m sure it’s where you fell and—”

“No.” Jane slumped, defeated. “They broke off when my sis—” She corrected herself, not wanting to claim the crazies in the other room. “They broke apart when I fell.”

The man sighed loudly and ran his fingers through his perfect hair. “I’ll talk to the club manager and see if anyone turns them in.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to give him all the many reasons why they were irreplaceable, but instead she settled with, “That’s really not necessary. It’s not your fault I was a victim of the techno craze.”

His upper lip curled. “I hate techno.”

“Me too.”

“Is there something I can do? Anything? You promise you aren’t hurt?”

“Careful or you’re going to have me believe you got me trampled on purpose in order to trap me in a private room,” she joked as a smile tugged at her lips.

“Had I known you were willing, I wouldn’t have had to go to such extremes to orchestrate it.”

He appeared stunned by his own answer.

Her breath hitched. Was he flirting with her?

His crystal blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

“So…” Her voice was hoarse, like an old woman’s. Great. “I should probably get back to the party.” Why did she need to go back again? All the reasons seemed to disappear as he maneuvered around the couch and popped a bottle of champagne that had been chilling in a nearby crystal bucket.

“Why don’t you and I have a drink first?” He peered around the table. “I’ll need to send for some shoes. It’s the least I can do.” His gaze heated. “Shoes are appropriate to purchase for a stranger. A dress, I’m afraid…” The corners of his mouth tilted into a sultry smile as his eyes slowly raked over the scraps of fabric barely covering her breasts. “Not so much.”

Did people do that these days? Just send for shoes? Who was this guy? “Really, it’s not necessary. I’ll just stick to the shadows so I don’t scare anyone with my limp and I’ll be okay.” She sounded more confident than she felt, and her lower lip trembled a bit. Next time she was going to hold her ground, stay home, read a book, and be plain boring Jane. This wasn’t her scene. Not by a long shot.

He leaned in close, so close she could smell his aftershave again. “A woman like you doesn’t belong in the shadows.”

Uncomfortable, she tried to make light of the situation again. “Wow, a hero and good with words. I bet you’re just a regular handful, aren’t you?”

“Me?” He laughed as if the thought was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “No, that would be my twin brothers. They’re the handfuls. I’m…” He seemed to think about it. “Just Brock.”

“Well, Just Brock…” Jane held out her hand. “I’m Just Jane.”

His hand completely engulfed hers as their palms pressed against one another. He was so warm. And big.

Huge.

Huge hands. That meant something, right?

Crap, she was still shaking his hand, and he was grinning at her as if it was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him. And he was looking at her. At her eyes, not at the fact that she was half-naked on a couch, with a broken shoe.

With a jerk, she pulled her hand back and nervously reached to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“So, Brock.” Jane looked down at his shoes. That was safe. Shoes. Nothing sexy about a man’s feet, right? Except his were inside shoes that she ventured probably cost more than she’d ever see in a lifetime. “About those shoes.”

“Shoes.” He repeated the word and then quickly stood. “Right, just wait here.”

He disappeared, giving her the breathing room she absolutely positively needed, only to re-appear a few seconds later.

Without shoes.

She frowned; then again, what had she expected? That he’d bang some plastic Barbie over the head with his cell phone, steal her shoes, and then toss them to Jane?

Brock studied her. “Your shoes should be here within the next fifteen minutes. I just sent my degenerate brother across the street. Saks is still open. The night is young.”

Saks?

Shoes from Saks?

She’d never owned anything from Saks. Ever. But she knew the store; didn’t every woman? Still, the most expensive thing she’d ever owned had been the pearls.

“That’s really…” She waved her hand in the air and stood. “Not necessary…you can tell him that—”

Brock reached for her hand and lightly tugged her back. “Sit. It is necessary. And although I typically wait until the third date to buy a woman gifts, I think your nearly getting trampled allows me to break that rule.”

Still tense, Jane nodded and took a shaky look around the small, private room.

“To new shoes?” Brock grabbed his drink and lifted it in the air toward her.

She lifted her glass and clinked it against his then took a small sip. The champagne was pink and sweet, with a tart aftertaste. “It’s good.”

“You sound surprised.” Brock’s lips lifted in a smile.

She scrunched up her nose. “I’m not much of a drinker, and I typically don’t like drinks that are the same color as my underwear.”

The minute the words were out of her mouth, she froze, barely managing to suppress the urge to clap a hand over her mouth. She wanted someone to run her over with a car.

With a choke, Brock nearly spit out the sip he’d just taken. Face flushed, he stared her down and then whispered, “You’re making me regret my decision to send out for boring black shoes.”

“I didn’t…I mean, pink is fine.” Stop talking, stop talking. “Not all of my underwear is pink. I have black, too.”

Brock’s lips parted with a greedy exhale, and he downed the rest of his drink. “Oh?”

Hell in a handbasket.

Why was she giving him a rundown of her lingerie drawer? As if he were a naughty Santa with a checklist in front of him, putting down little marks on the little boxes that read “red lacy thong”? Check. “Black boyshorts”? Double check.

“I’m more of a boxer brief sort of guy,” he said smoothly, bringing her back to the present.

“Huh?”

“Too far?” He chuckled. “I figured if I knew the color of yours…I should at least show you mine.” He leaned forward.

Had he said show?

Just how drunk was he? Maybe that was the reason his eyes were zeroing in on her mouth. He blinked, and then seemed to sway a bit.

Was he okay? And why was he still staring at her mouth? Did she have something on her face?

Self-consciously, she pressed her fingertips to her lips only to have him suck in a breath and lift his right hand from his thigh as if wanting to touch the place where her fingers had just been.

“Got the shoes!” a male voice yelled as Jane jerked away from Brock.

What had just happened?

“Holy shit, you’re hot.”

She recognized the man from before. He was about an inch shorter than Brock, but had the same perfect auburn hair. “I’m Bentley, and since this one’s about to get married, I feel like it’s only fair to let you know that out of the two of us, I’m the single, available one, who’s also—lucky for you—been given a higher rating in the sack.”

Married?

He was getting married?

And hitting on her?

Or was she hitting on him? After all, she was the one who’d mentioned underwear. Ugh, she wanted to crawl under the table and die.

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Whitney’s 3.5 Star Review

The Bachelor Auction (TBA) is Rachel Van Dyken’s modern spin on a Cinderella tale. A contemporary romance with a rom-com feel, this a light hearted and fast read that will keep her fans entertained.

Jane is a sweet girl, dealing with the loss of her parents and two horrible sisters. As the responsible one, she does her best to take care of them and those around her to the detriment of her own personal life. A run-in with a mysterious and sexy gentlemen makes her realize she may be missing out on life. That combined with her awful (really, they are dreadful so I’m thinking of all the negative adjectives I can find) sisters, she accepts an offer of employment to clean up and make ready a ranch for it’s new tenant.

Brock, of course, is the mysterious stranger Jane encountered and he is also the new tenant at his family ranch. He has decided to escape there before doing his grandfather’s bidding… bidding in the literally sense as he is to be auctioned off for charity with the hopes of making a love match.

Born into wealth, Brock has also lost his parents and taken on the burden of the family business and keeping his hilariously troublesome brothers on the right path. When he sees the lovely Jane again, he’s smitten but he knows he can’t have her due to the impending auction. But of course, the heart wants what it does and now Brock is faced with trying to find a way to keep his girl and keep his grandfather happy.

Some antics from his brother and Grandma Nadine (remember her from The Bet series!) propel the final part of the story and really livened things up for me. Honestly, I skimmed through parts of the first probably 70% of the book. I adore this author but I just wasn’t connecting as much as I’d like to with the characters. But by the end, I was entranced and I think it’s because I actually felt more for Brock’s brothers and am very much looking forward to their stories.

Any RVD fan will enjoy this book. Otherwise, if you like a bit of silly, over the top humor and sweet stories, give this a whirl!

About the Author:

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

EXCERPT REVEAL – The Bachelor Auction by Rachel Van Dyken

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Are you ready to meet Brock Wellington?

THE BACHELOR AUCTION by Rachel Van Dyken is coming October 4!

Pre-Order your copy today!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2cqtEJo

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2casLH2

iBooks: http://apple.co/2c4SmQS

B&N: http://bit.ly/1SKyEdn

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2bgINiM

GooglePlay: http://bit.ly/2bNZuQE

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Synopsis:

Jane isn’t entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start, but didn’t she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding, entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in sight. Until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering if princes—or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire—maybe do exist.

Except Brock Wellington isn’t anyone’s dream guy. Hell, a prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder. Or act like an arrogant jerk—even if it was just a façade. Now, as Brock is waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it’s karmic retribution that he’s tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can’t have. But while they can’t have a fairy-tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy . .

Excerpt:

“Bentley!” Brock barked and shook his head.

“What?” Bentley shrugged then smoothly walked over to Jane and pulled out a box of black high-heeled pumps in a size eight and a half. “Your foot, milady?”

Brock rolled his eyes. “Give it a rest, Bentley. She can put on her own damn shoes.”

Bentley completely ignored him. “I love a woman’s foot.” He grabbed Jane’s broken shoe and tossed it to the side while his hands danced along the arch of her foot. His fingertips danced along her skin. Seduction by foot rub? That was new.

“It’s sexy, the arch.” He leaned over her, his lips parting just enough to give her the impression he was thinking about kissing her. “The curve of a woman’s foot reminds me of her body…see? Sexy.” He slid the shoe on a very terrified looking Jane and stood. “Perfect fit.”

Jane’s mouth opened then closed as a rosy flush crept over her face. “Th-thank you.”

“I bought you my favorite brand.”

Her eyebrows arched. How did he know about Manolo Blahnik? “Oh.” And then she nodded and said loudly, “Ohhhh! That makes sense!”

Bentley’s eyes narrowed. “Me buying women’s shoes?”

“You wearing them,” she explained. “That’s great. I mean, good for you. I’m sorry I’m so awkward at things like this, but it’s good you’re…you know…” She bobbed her head and sputtered. “Out and…comfortable with it.”

“Out?” Bentley repeated. “I’m confused.”

“Of the closet,” she said slowly then saw the scowl on Bentley’s face. “Or maybe you just like to dress like a woman?” She straightened her shoulders and tried again. “In either case, congratulations on your choice to wear women’s clothing!”

Brock about died laughing as Bentley’s horrified expression went from stunned to genuine confusion.

“You heard her.” Brock held his laughter in check. “Congratulations, brother. I’ll take care of the press release: Bachelor Playboy Bentley Wellington and his private women’s shoe collection.”

Bentley let out a strangled laugh. “Yes, and while we’re at it why don’t we remind the press that the clock is ticking on that auction of yours? Hmm?”

“Auction?” Jane asked.

“Don’t.” Brock shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

“But she probably already does.” Bentley pointed out. “Unless she doesn’t read the news…?”

They both stared at her, waiting for an answer.

“I, uh…” She ducked her head, blushing again. “I read books.”

“How pure.” Bentley smiled and sat down next to her. “And just so we’re clear.” He leaned in as though he was going to kiss her. “My bat only swings one way…and I can assure you, every time I get thrown a pitch, I hit it out of the park.”

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About the Author:

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

EXCERPT REVEAL – The Bachelor Auction by Rachel Van Dyken

We have your first look at THE BACHELOR AUCTION releasing on October 4 and we can guarantee, you do not want to miss the first book in this brand new series from Rachel Van Dyken!

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TheBachelorAuction11_RGB300 (1)Cinderella never had to deal with this crap.

 

Jane isn’t entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start but didn’t she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding, entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in sight. That is, until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering if princes—or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire—maybe do exist.

Except Brock Wellington isn’t anyone’s dream guy. A prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder. Or act like an arrogant jerk—even if that is just a façade. Now, as Brock is waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it’s karmic retribution that he’s tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can’t have. But while he and Jane may not get a fairy tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy . . .

 

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU |iBooks | B&N | Kobo | GooglePlay

Excerpt

Thick wavy auburn hair fell in disarray over his forehead. It was lush, shiny, perfect. Were guys born with hair like that? Or was his somehow chemically engineered? His full lips pressed together in a secret smile as the equally handsome man next to him said something, then erupted in laughter.

The first man stiffened, then shook his head. His broad shoulders seemed to grow tight as a drum. A slight tic in his jaw was the only clue that he was irritated or maybe outright angry.

And then his shoulders slumped as he was handed another drink and then another.

Nervous. He must be nervous. But what could a man like that possibly have to be nervous about?

He easily towered over most of the men in attendance. Suddenly his posture changed, then he smiled.

Jane felt her mouth drop open in shock.

Dazzling.

He was…like a duke or a lord or a prince from a storybook. Clearly, she read too many romance novels, but his entire presence demanded attention; screamed authority, importance, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Yes, his virility was a tangible thing, as if she could reach out and grasp it with her fingertips.

“What are you doing?” Esmeralda yelled in her right ear, interrupting her blatant sexual fantasy about a complete stranger. Great. That’s what her life had come to. And sadly? It was the most fun she’d had all night.

Jane turned to Esmeralda, prayed for patience, and answered. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“You’re so boring.” Esmeralda rolled her eyes. “No wonder you got dumped.”

Another fun fact? Esmeralda was mean when she was drunk.

The reminder of the breakup burned like acid.

It had been a year ago, not that it mattered. It still hurt that the last guy she’d dated had told her that although she was cute, she wasn’t really doing it for him anymore.

Right. Doing it.

Maybe that was because she hadn’t done anything for him or with him, and he found that lacking. But they’d only dated for a few weeks. Did normal girls do that? Put out after a few weeks? Apparently.

She wasn’t normal.

But if that was normal, maybe she was better off being strange.

“Jane, are you even listening to me?” Esmeralda whined. “Essence needs you to dance next to her for a bit. I’m tired and tipsy. I want to sit. Plus your dress blends in enough that it won’t take attention away from her.”

No way. What? What had she just said?

Jane wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m sorry, what?”

Without warning, Esmeralda grabbed Jane’s hand and jerked her toward the dance floor, causing Jane to lose her footing and crash directly into Esmeralda’s back. Then, like a domino, she slammed back into Essence.

Jane opened her mouth to shout out an apology, but Esmeralda was already too drunk to listen to reason. With determination in her eyes, she reached for the pearls at Jane’s neck but grabbed the fabric of the dress instead.

Her poorly sewn dress ripped instantly, causing the fabric to slink past her strapless bra. A diagonal slit split up her thigh almost all the way to her hip. In an effort to cover herself, she took a step and tripped, thanks to her clunky shoes.

And then she fell to the floor.

Hard.

Her sisters watched in horror—but neither of them offered a hand. They were probably kicking themselves for forcing her to come. Esmeralda leaned over but missed Jane’s shoulder by a mile, grabbing her hair and giving it a tug, which only made Jane wince harder.

Both sisters were completely tanked.

And she was less than two minutes away from being trampled by the other sweaty bodies around her.

She glanced up.

And into the eyes of the man she’d just been lusting after.

Oh God, the humiliation was complete.

That one glance told her he’d seen it all. She swallowed back the thickness building in her throat. Of course the only time he’d notice her would be when she’d ripped her dress and nearly took out a few guests on her way down to the dance floor.

The crowd gathered around her.

And the sexy man disappeared—probably off in search of a girl with perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect clothes.

She really should have stayed home.

Tears filled her eyes as a heel pressed into her right hand. With a jerk she tugged her hand free, struggling to get up to stand on her wobbly feet, when suddenly she was pulled to a standing position and then swept up in strong arms.

Jane’s eyes were still so blurry from unshed tears she couldn’t make out the man’s face as he carried her out of the crowd.

He smelled like heaven.

She fought the insane urge to press her face against his chest and just…close her eyes.

Because he felt safe.

Pathetic, when a stranger’s arms provided more safety than her own family. And yet he felt…right.

In a world where things for the past ten years had felt so wrong.

He felt right.

Maybe she’d had too much champagne.

About the Author

rachelborderRachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .

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BLOG TOUR, REVIEW AND GIVEAWAY – The Matchmaker’s Replacement by Rachel Van Dyken

The Matchmaker's Replacement Banner - Aug 9

 

VanDyken-TheMatchmakersReplacement-CV-FL-vC6-RGBWingman rule number two: never reveal how much you want them.

Lex hates Gabi. Gabi hates Lex. But, hey, at least the hate is mutual, right? All Lex has to do is survive the next few weeks training Gabi in all the ways of Wingmen Inc. and then he can be done with her. But now that they have to work together, the sexual tension and fighting is off the charts. He isn’t sure if he wants to strangle her or throw her against the nearest sturdy table and have his way with her.

But Gabi has a secret, something she’s keeping from not just her best friend but her nemesis too. Lines are blurred as Lex becomes less the villain she’s always painted him to be…and starts turning into something more. Gabi has always hated the way she’s been just a little bit attracted to him—no computer-science major should have that nice of a body or look that good in glasses—but “Lex Luthor” is an evil womanizer. He’s dangerous. Gabi should stay far, far away.

Then again, she’s always wanted a little danger.

Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU

TAKE A LOOK AT THE EPIC COVER HERE

Whitney’s Five Star Review

Lex and Gabi, oh my!

I couldn’t wait to read how this pair’s hate would turn to love. I smiled, laughed and giggled my way through almost this entire book. And yet, there were some very sweet and serious moments as well.

I love this brand of romcom and TMR is just as good as book one. This is a little hotter than some of Rachel’s other books but still classy and nothing too detailed. The tension is crazy and I loved learning the history of these two characters and how their hate came to be.

I don’t want to regurgitate the blurb but basically Lex has to ‘train’ Gabi so she can help the men who hire Wingmen Inc woo the women of their dreams. When Gabi’s ex hires them, Lex’s jealous streak comes out and of course he doesn’t want her ‘dating’ anyone but him.

I thought Lex was sexy in book one and reading about his fall is pretty much exactly what I hoped it would be. When the supervillian fell, he fell hard. Gabi is so fun and her vulnerable side was perfect. I can’t imagine two people more perfect for each other!

One thing that surprised me was loving the bromance between Lex and Ian.  Their banter and friendship is certainly on display in Ian’s story but this book really brought it out and it gave me the warm fuzzies.

This series is Rache’s romcom at it’s best!  Definitely recommended.

 

I hated him.

HATED him.

Hate, hate, hate. I chanted the words to myself that very next morning as I stomped toward his ridiculously expensive house, next to the ridiculously nice lake, with his ridiculously loud red Mercedes parked out front. Jackass.

I’d be doing society a favor if I set it on fire.

Seriously.

The thing was probably filled with so much bodily fluid and disease that if he got in a car accident he’d infect the entire freeway and start a citywide epidemic.

I shuddered.

I compartmentalized Lex into two boxes.

The first box was Childhood Lex, the friend who used to hang out with Ian and me before he moved across town, never to be seen again. He used to ride with me to school, and when I was sick he gave me my own box of Kleenex—never mind that he stole it from his teacher’s desk. The point is, Childhood Lex was a keeper.

Box number two?

Asshole Lex, also known as the version I was walking toward. The Lex I met when I was eighteen, who momentarily stunned me speechless with his godlike beauty, had been a figment of my overactive, sad, hormone-riddled imagination.

On the outside? The perfect man.

With a brooding and sultry smile.

Biceps the size of my head.

Who gave me the distinct feeling that if I ran my hands over his buzzed hair I’d orgasm before he even touched me.

Whatever. I was over it. So over it.

A lot of people had stupid crushes when they were eighteen, right?

Now all I saw when I looked into his stormy blue eyes was syph or the clap, and that was being generous. The dude was a walking STD and seriously tried every nerve I had. He was an ass. Plain and simple, no sugar coating. He was the type of guy who’d tell a chick that she looked fat in a dress or who refused to share the communal breadbasket. See! He couldn’t even adhere to typical manners during mealtime! Just thinking about him had me tied up in knots.

Last year, when I went shopping and stupidly invited Ian along—which of course meant Lex had to come—I was told in no uncertain terms that if I would just stop drinking chocolate milk in the morning I’d be able to fit into a smaller size.

He’d smiled.

His dimples had deepened.

He’d even crossed his arms as if to say, Look, I did you a favor, pat me on the back.

Instead I had kicked him in the balls and tried to give him a black eye, clocking Ian in the face.

My point? Lex. Was. The. Devil.

I made a point of only hanging out with Lex when absolutely necessary, and even then I almost always had Ian as a buffer. But now that he was playing love nest with my ex-roomie, Blake? Well, I was on my own.

Lex opened the door after my third aggressive knock. Black sweatpants hung low on his hips, a vintage Mariners shirt fell open around his neck, and he was wearing black-framed glasses that made his eyes more appealing than should be legal.

“Sunshine,” he said, his smirk deepening as he crossed his burly arms over his chest.

“Dickhead.” I smiled sweetly. “New glasses? They look thicker than last time.”

“Better to see you with.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “There they are.” He reached for one of my boobs.

I slapped his hand away so hard my palm stung.

“Probably not the best way to treat your new male clients.” He shook his hand and turned towards the living room leaving the door wide open. Manners were completely lost on him.

Gritting my teeth, I slammed the door behind me and took off my shoes because I knew if I didn’t he’d give me hell.

He was a freak like that.

For as much ass as he got, it was shocking how much Lysol he used around the house. His clothes were never wrinkled; everything was pristine.

Even his breath.

Damn him.

He drank coffee like a Starbucks employee but never had coffee breath.

It was almost painful, staring him in the face, knowing that everything on the outside appeared perfect—but didn’t match the inside at all, not even close!

Beauty like Lex’s was dangerous and wickedly tempting, like something out of a paranormal romance novel. Sometimes, at night, when I dreamed of Lex getting hit by a car, I imagined him as a vampire roaming the streets in his favorite black sweats, shirtless, shimmering under the streetlights, just waiting for whores to line up so he could take a few bites.

A pencil flew by my head.

“Yo.” Lex’s eyebrows shot up. “We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to get you ready for the next two clients. Daydream about chicks on your own time.”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

He bit on his bottom lip, sinking back in his chair as his eyes slowly roamed from my mismatched socks all the way up to my head. “Okay, whatever you say, Gabs.”

I will not commit homicide. I will not commit homicide. “You know,” I said as I tossed my purse onto the table, “it’s offensive that you assume all lesbians dress like crap.” So what? I was wearing a ratty white T-shirt and ripped jeans, and I was pretty sure I still had mascara on from the night before. It was my Lex repellant. He hated sloppiness.

“Offensive.” He nodded. “Also true . . .” He used the spare pencil from behind his ear to slide my purse over to the farthest side of the table. “It wouldn’t kill you to wear something other than jeans and T-shirts, Gabs.” He sighed. “Say it with me: dresssss—”

I grabbed the pencil from his hand, broke it into two pieces, and handed them back to him. “I wear dresses, just not for you. Dresses are your kryptonite, especially short black ones. I refuse to be a part of your ‘shower time.’”

He snorted. “You wish.”

“Yes. Every night when I go to sleep I pray for Lex to dream of me while he jerks off because yet another girl refused to follow his instructions in bed : ‘Damn it, use the manual!’” I said, using my best imitation of Lex’s voice. I’d only heard him shout instructions to a girl once, and it had scarred me for life. What the hell are you doing? Do I look like I’m satisfied? There’s a diagram! Ugh.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Very funny, and the manual is there for a reason. Do you even know how many chicks get confused when I call out sexual positions? It’s like, get there faster, you know?”

My feelings were torn between fascination and disgust. “So,” I changed the subject. “Let’s train, because I have about ten years worth of Organic Chem homework.”

Lex sighed and held out his hand.

“No.” I crossed my arms. “I don’t need help.”

Okay, I needed help, desperately needed help, and Lex wasn’t just passably smart but a certified genius, at least when he applied himself. I refused to ask him to go over my homework just because Organic Chem was, to me, like reading a foreign language.

He cleared his throat.

I didn’t move.

Finally, he stood, slowly walked over to the end of the table, and fished the chem book from my oversized purse. “What chapter?”

“Lex—”

“If I’m teaching you Organic Chem, at least say Professor Lex.”

“Listen very closely, Lex.” I went over and jerked my book out of his hands. “I didn’t need your help last year when I almost failed biology, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now. Let’s just get this training done so I can go home and suffer in silence, alright?”

“Fine.” He dropped my book against the table and then, without warning, grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me against the counter that bordered the kitchen. My butt hit the cupboard . “Up until now we’ve been helping people find their perfect match. Basically acting like a wingman so that the idiots of this world see the girl who’s been standing in front of them all along .”

Why was he standing so close? Did we have to be touching? I told my body not to respond to his proximity, but Lex was magnetic, even if every part of him was evil. My brain was having trouble functioning while his large palms were pressed into the tops of my shoulders.

“Okay.” I swallowed. “And now that you’re allowing guys to become clients of Wingmen Inc., I basically do the same thing. Give them confidence, help them capture the one girl who’s always seen them as the friend—or worse, who they’ve been invisible to.”

“What’s that like, I wonder?” Lex still didn’t release me. “Being invisible . . . Maybe next time a dude ignores you, take notes.”

And another insult.

“Lex.” I huffed out a breath. “Just get on with it.”

“Right.” His eyes momentarily locked on mine before he rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses were perched. It was not sexy. It wasn’t. Really. That. Sexy. “So whenever we take on a new client, we give them a list of questions, meet them in a public place, and then use the power of human emotions like jealousy and curiosity to get the other person interested. That’s where you come in. If another girl sees our client as desirable, he becomes desirable.”

“That easy?”

“Sort of.” Lex leaned forward. “But you can’t suck.”

“Suck?”

“At anything.” His lips hovered near my mouth. He was starting to freak me out. I wanted to run away, but I was pinned.

“Lex, if you kiss me I will bite your tongue off. I swear.”

“If I was actually kissing you”—Lex released one of my shoulders and placed a finger against my mouth—“you’d know it. This, my frumpy friend, is training.”

His lips descended.

They pressed against mine, then pulled back. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Gabs, you’re going to need to open your mouth a bit more. Guys are stupid. They always assume that more tongue means better kissing, when the opposite is true, but you still need to have your lips parted, not locked down like Fort Knox.”

“What’s happening?” I tried to push away from him.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Gabs, believe me, this is all business. You can even keep your hand on my junk the whole time.”

“What!” I roared.

“So you know without a doubt that nothing about you turns me on.” He grinned menacingly. “Seriously, I don’t mind.”

“I do!”

“Hey!” He chuckled. “I was just trying to help.”

“Grabbing your penis is not the answer, Lex!”

“Weird, because it so often is.”

“I hate today.”

“Is it the rain?” He frowned.

“It’s not—”

“It is.”

“Stop that!” I shoved him. “Hurry up and grade my kissing skills so I can go home and study.”

“Kissing, hand holding, hugging, cuddling, laughing, winking—just a few things you need to master.” He was firing off so many horrible, body-numbing words.

“Just hurry up,” I grumbled in a defeated voice as I tried to block out the fact that he was a good-looking ass who offended me with every single breath he took.

“Ah . . .” Lex held up his hand. “One never hurries a kiss.”

“What about a passionate kiss?”

“A passionate kiss isn’t hurried, it’s frenzied. Damn, don’t you know anything?”

Heat swamped my cheeks.

“How many guys have you kissed, Gabs?”

“Plenty!” Five. I’d kissed five.

“You blush down your neck when you lie.” Lex cupped my chin and then brought his lips down against mine again. “Part.”

Sighing against his mouth, I relaxed my lips while his slid across.

He pulled back, wearing a frown of irritation. “A bit more, Gabs. Guys want access.”

I kept my eyes open.

So did he.

I didn’t want him assuming I was into it, which was probably his exact line of thinking. Only keeping my eyes open was an entirely raw experience, watching him watch me while I felt him.

I shivered.

“Cold?” That stupid smirk was back.

“Frigid.” I glared, putting myself down before he had a chance to.

“You read my mind.” He nodded seriously. “Now stop being a bitch, and let me teach you how to kiss.”

“I know how to kiss!” I don’t know what came over me—maybe it was the need to prove myself, or possibly it was just stress over the entire situation. Needing to stay in school and hating that he was the answer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped, my hips colliding with his as I mauled his mouth with as much passion as I could conjure up, this time closing my eyes and putting everything I had into it.

With a growl, Lex pushed me back against the countertop. As my butt collided with the edge, his tongue plunged into my mouth and his hands dug into my hair, pulling it free from its ponytail while he changed positions his lips demanding a punishing kiss from a different angle as his he gave my hair a harder tug back.

I grasped at his T-shirt, pulling him closer and nearly falling backward into the sink.

And then, just when I was in danger of losing myself to the kiss that would probably be the best kiss of my life, I bit down on his bottom lip.

That move didn’t work out the way I’d planned, not at all. In my head it was smart. I’d piss him off, get him to pull back and leave me alone.

It did nothing of the sort.

Nothing of the sort at all.

With a hiss he pulled back, fire blazing in his eyes. For a split second that seemed to go on for an eternity, he hovered and I waited, both of us on the edge of something. He wet his lips, I mimicked the movement, and then, like a snake, he struck. His mouth fused to mine in a punishing kiss, one that bruised my mouth while imprinting its essence on my soul.

Enter the Giveaway HERE

 

rachelborderRachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE / NEWSLETTER

 

 

 

 

 

BLOG TOUR AND REVIEW – Empire by Rachel Van Dyken

Empire banner

EMPIRE

BY Rachel Van Dyken

Release Date: May 31, 2016

*Must Read ELUDE prior to Empire*

Empire cover

SYNOPSIS

I have lost everything.

My purpose

My love

My soul

Death knocks on my door, I want to answer, but every time I reach for the handle — the promise I made her brings me back.

So I breathe.

I live.

I hate.

And I allow the anger to boil beneath the surface of a perfectly indifferent facade. I am broken, I don’t want to be fixed.

But the Empire is crumbling and it’s my job to fix it.

My job to mend the pieces that were scattered over thirty years ago.

A trip to New York, only one chance to redeem a lost part of our mafia family.

The only issue is, the only way to fix it, is to do something I swore I’d never do again.

An arranged marriage.

Only this time,

I won’t fall.

Or so help me God, I will kill her myself.

My name is Sergio Abandonoto, you think you know my pain, my suffering, my anger, my hate?

You have no idea.

I am the mafia.

I am the darkness.

Blood in. No out.

Empire teaser 1

BUY LINKS

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1THQlqC

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1TQ63n3

Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1Rl9LAj

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1QqTxJE

B&N / iBooks / Kobo

Empire teaser 2

Whitney’s Four Star Review

**Empire is not a stand alone and this review will contain spoilers if you have not read Elude. The Eagle Elite series is best read it order, starting with Elite**

If you were left sobbing at the end of Elude like me, you’ve been waiting to see Sergio’s broken heart mended. Like most of the men in this series, Sergio is a bad guy with a heart of gold. The only problem… Sergio’s heart broke when his wife, Andi, died at the end of Elude.

The storyline of this book is directly related to Elude so we kind of know where this was going to go. Sergio was always supposed to marry Val, Frank’s niece. Val is an innocent. Completely oblivious to her real parent’s identity and her ties to the mafia, Val has spent years with her over protective crazy Italian uncles. Her shy demeanor and tendency to get lost in romance novels make her everything Sergio doesn’t want or need.

Their arranged marriage has a rather rocky beginning as you might imagine. Sergio is doing his best not to feel anything for his pretty new wife, despite his attraction and urge to protect her. His indifferent behavior is devastating to Val who can clearly see how alone and angry he is over Andi’s loss.

Of course, this is Rachel Van Dyken, so there’s a little mafia drama, some laughs, some tears, and all ends well. Our other mafia friends make their appearances and even after all this time, Chase still makes me swoon. But I’ll shut up about him since this is Sergio’s story.

Any fans of the series will be pleased with this book. It was different for me for a couple of reasons. One is obvious- Other than Nixon, Sergio is the only character to have his story told in two books. Another is that some of the mafia drama is really happening in the background and the story seems to focus more on the love story between Sergio and Val. This is a three person POV and Frank’s chapters have more of the mafia focus which I think is appropriate for the series… it’s an end of an era for his generation.

The lead characters for the next book are introduced but I won’t ruin anything by spilling the beans. I’m so happy this series will continue. I just can’t get enough of these characters!

Empire teaser 4

About Rachel Van Dyken

Rachel Van dyken pic

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.  She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!  Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!  You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelVanDyken

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RachVD

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4882127.Rachel_Van_Dyken?from_search=true

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rachel-Van-Dyken/e/B0054TW5AA/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1407369649&sr=8-2-ent

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/8l7hP

NEW RELEASE, REVIEW AND GIVEAWAY – The Matchmaker’s Playbook by Rachel Van Dyken

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The Matchmaker’s Playbook

by Rachel Van Dyken

 

VanDyken-TheMatchmakersPlaybook-21818-CV-FT-v5Wingman rule number one: don’t fall for a client.

After a career-ending accident, former NFL recruit Ian Hunter is back on campus—and he’s ready to get his new game on. As one of the masterminds behind Wingmen, Inc., a successful and secretive word-of-mouth dating service, he’s putting his extensive skills with women to work for the lovelorn. But when Blake Olson requests the services of Wingmen, Inc., Ian may have landed his most hopeless client yet.

From her frumpy athletic gear to her unfortunate choice of footwear, Blake is going to need a miracle if she wants to land her crush. At least with a professional matchmaker by her side she has a fighting chance. Ian knows that his advice and a makeover can turn Blake into another successful match. But as Blake begins the transformation from hot mess to smokin’ hot, Ian realizes he’s in danger of breaking his cardinal rule…

 

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

 

The Matchmaker’s Playbook by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.

 

Whitney’s Five Star Review

I might have a new favorite Rachel book!

I smiled every single second while reading this book. This is probably the best ‘light’ read I’ve had in a long time and the entire experience was just fun. The characters are snarky, witty, sexy and funny. I’d say it’s almost romcom but then again, maybe it’s just more traditional NA.

I adored Blake’s character. She’s a great balance between innocence and sex kitten. And Ian… sawoon! His cockiness is nicely tempered with his casual attitude and the vulnerability we see as the book progresses.

Rachel’s writing is great, the book flows nicely and TMP is actually a pretty quick read. It’s a bit steamier than some of the author’s books but nothing explicit which I can appreciate because it did nothing to dampen the chemistry between these characters.

Now I just have to be patient until we get Lex’s story!

 Excerpt

Blake let out another pitiful groan. “I don’t think it fits.”

“They measured you. It fits. Just, tell me if it looks okay so we can go.” I checked my watch. “Gabi said dinner was at six, and it’s already a quarter till.”

“This is too much pressure.” Her voice was frantic. “I can’t do this. I mean, how do I know if it looks good? They’re boobs.”

I groaned. “Boobs always look good. Believe me.”

“Boobs are gross!”

Said no man ever. Even the gay ones.

One of the salesladies eyed me up and down. “Are you two okay?”

“Great,” I chirped. “Just having a very heated discussion about the beauty of breasts.” I dipped my chin to Blake’s chest. “What are you? A double D?”

Scowling, she marched off.

Thank God.

“Blake,” I hissed.

No answer.

I’d never had such a difficult client. If anything, they jumped when I told them to, asked how high, and then kept jumping until I was satisfied. Blake fought me at every turn.

“Open the door before I crawl underneath it. I’ll pick the bras, you can close your eyes if you want so you don’t have to watch me look at you, alright? My stomach literally just ate my liver. I need protein. Open. The. Door.”

The door slowly creaked open. Taking advantage of the small crack of air, I pushed it farther, then clicked it shut behind me and turned around.

Blake was facing me, hands on hips, face beet-red, body . . . freaking perfect. My tongue almost lolled out, like a dog.

Most girls starve themselves to have abs like that, which was disgusting. But her abs? They had muscle, actual muscle, but still appeared feminine.

She also had a nice tan, just enough to show that she spent time outside or maybe just had naturally darker skin.

My throat went completely dry as I continued to stare.

“Well?” Her voice was weak. “How awful do I look? On a scale of one to ten?”

I’d convinced her to buy some new workout clothes to replace her old ones. I knew I’d never get her to actually completely change her style. She liked workout clothes? Fine, at least buy the kind that fit and actually point to the correct gender. I tried to steer her away from the boyfriend sweats and sweatshirts, but she eventually wore me down, so I told her if she bought at least five new Pink outfits that had spandex in them, I’d let her get one pair of ugly slouchy sweats. You’d think I’d just given her a million dollars, from her reaction.

Currently, she was sporting a short pair of bright-blue yoga shorts.

And a black push-up sports bra that did wonders for her boobs.

And the world just in general.

Holy shit.

I gulped as I became more and more irritated with the fact that my body was reacting as if it had never seen a girl without her shirt on before. “Blake, it’s great.”

“You sound bored!”

I had to, damn it! What did she want me to do? Sound interested? Turned-on? Intrigued? Curious? I was all those things. I just tried to ignorethe insanity bouncing around in my head and blurted, “Your boobs look really good. Perky, happy, just . . . awesome.”

Did I just call her boobs “happy”?

“You think?” She stared down at her breasts, then grabbed them.

Holy shit, was she seriously feeling herself up? I braced my hand against the door and sucked in a breath.

“They still feel comfortable,” she said.

“Do they?” I managed to choke out while she continued bouncing them a bit in her hands. Dear Lord, did she know what she was doing? Waving a flag in front of a bull. My jeans suddenly tight in all the wrong areas, I tried to envision Lex naked, anything to get my dick to clue in to the word “client,” meaning I was in a no-play zone.

Another first.

It was because I was hungry.

And Marissa? Melissa? Hadn’t satisfied me. I’d gotten off, and made sure she did too, but the entire experience left me feeling empty, bored, and—if I was being completely honest? A bit depressed. Besides, her tits paled in comparison. I had to wonder what the hell I’d been doing all my life if this was the first time I was having such a strong reaction to boobs.

Something about Blake had me wondering if I’d been satisfied at all up until this point. And I had no idea what the hell was so confusing about her, and about the situation. I was unable to put my finger on it, and the more I thought about it the more my head hurt.

Hunger does weird things to guys.

“Yeah.” More bouncing, then turning and staring in the mirror. I wasn’t sure what was worse. Her staring at her own boobs or touching them. “I’m just no good at this stuff. I didn’t grow up with a mom, and I hit puberty really early. The girls made fun of me, and the boys pointed.” Her shoulders slumped inward again.

Could we please go back to the bouncing? I was a fan of that Blake. The one that rolled up like an awkward armadillo? Not so much.

Giveaway

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rachelborderRachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.

NEWSLETTER | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE


Blog Tour and Review – Rip by Rachel Van Dyken

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Rip by Rachel Van Dyken

Available Now!

Synopsis

Pretty things aren’t meant to be broken.

But I broke her, and now we both have to pay the price.

I’m her nightmare.

I’m her savior.

And now that I have her signature on an ironclad contract, I own her body and soul.

She doesn’t remember me.

She will.

It’s inevitable.

Because as much as I know I need to stay away, for fear of unlocking the memories I helped her father bury–I can’t.

She was the apple in the Garden, dangled in front of me, her core so tempting and sweet. A voice whispered. Just. One. Bite.

I bit.

I tasted.

I fell.

Welcome to the world of the Russian mafia, where death, is your only future.

Rip teaser

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26165764-rip

AMAZON: http://amzn.to/1jhHXnh

SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/570148

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rip-rachel-van-dyken/1122545790?ean=2940152101133

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/rip/id1033691483?mt=11

 

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Whitney’s Four Star Review

I wasn’t sure what to expect from this book.  I’ve read all of Rachel’s Eagle Elite series to which this book is loosely tied in to but from the start it had a bit of a darker feel, the characters a bit more mature, yet there is definitely still that lighter Rachel Van Dyken spin she tends to put on all of her novels.  And just so you know, you don’t have to read the Eagle Elite series to read this.  They just happen to share a few characters and this is a stand alone.

Nikolai intrigued me from the start.  He’s bad and yet, he’s not and I have no trouble falling for a bad book boyfriend as long as he’s showing some remorse for the things he’s done.  He and Maya’s relationship to each other and their interactions kept me turning the pages as I waited to learn their motivations, their secrets and ultimately how things would play out for them.

I won’t ruin any of the plot but fans of Rachel will be pleased with this book.  It offers some suspense, a bit of sexy, a few laughs, and drama as always.  I think this may be the shortest review I’ve ever written but sometimes less is more and with this book, you just need to experience it.

Excerpt

“You are your father’s daughter.” His lips curved into a delicious smile, “You resemble each other, not in looks, but definitely in attitude.” His gaze was unapologetic as he tilted his head and started raking his eyes from my feet up my legs until finally settling on my face. I clenched my legs together tightly and forced a smile.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Blazik, I’d really like to get on with the interview, I know your time is precious.”

As was mine, I wanted to stress, but didn’t, just barely restraining myself and clenching my teeth to keep from giving him a much-needed verbal lashing.

“I blocked out my entire day.”

Did he want applause? “Right, well, I assure you I can be fast.”

His dark laugh had me shivering and wanting to lean forward all at once. Men that good looking shouldn’t be blessed with chuckles like that—a freaking sirens call that’s what it was.

“Amazing… You truly don’t know why you’re here, do you?”

How many times did I need to repeat myself and why was I getting the sudden impression that the guy was on some seriously hard drugs? I looked closer; didn’t pinpoint pupils mean he was high or something?

“I assure you I’m not drunk, nor high, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He chuckled again and rubbed his hands together. “Though the idea does have merit, all things considering.” A muscle clenched in his jaw.

Oh good, so he was a doctor who liked drugs and had more money than God. That should go over well for addiction problems.

I scooted back against the leather and clicked my pen for, oh, I don’t know, the tenth time. “If you aren’t going to answer my questions, I should probably go.”

“You won’t be going anywhere,” he said in a quiet voice. “And for that I’m truly sorry.” His eyes met mine, and they seemed… apologetic.

“Pardon?” Was he threatening me? Warning bells went off in my head as adrenaline shot through my system.

“Your father…” He tilted his head. “He owes me a debt… of gratitude… I asked for something irreplaceable, something that’s been owed to me for a very long time.”

My stomach sank as my heart started hammering against my chest.

“What exactly did my father give you?” I choked out, hating that I probably knew the answer, because my father was ruthless, he was a business man after all, and he never backed out of a deal. It was business over family and our business was darkness itself, horrible, something I blocked out because it made me feel better when I woke up in the morning and fell asleep at night.

“Well…” Mr. Blazik stood. “I thought that would be obvious.”  He turned his back to me and walked over to his desk then pressed a button causing blinds to creep down all the windows. When he turned, the room was already starting to blanket in darkness, making it so that his teeth practically glowed. “He gave me you.”

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ABOUT RACHEL VAN DYKEN

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .

Links:  Twitter / GoodreadsAmazon Author Page / Newsletter

 

 

BLOG TOUR, REVIEW AND EXCERPT – Elude by Rachel Van Dyken

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Elude by Rachel Van Dyken

Eagle Elite #6

Elude cover

 Synopsis:

Twenty-Four hours before we were to be married–I offered to shoot her.

Ten hours before our wedding–I made a mockery of her dying wish.

Five hours before we were going to say our vows–I promised I’d never love her.

One hour before I said I do–I vowed I’d never shed a tear over her death.

But the minute we were pronounced man and wife–I knew.

I’d only use my gun to protect her.

I’d give my life for hers.

I’d cry.

And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl—a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place.

I always believed the mafia would be my end game–where I’d lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption.

Or the beginning of something beautiful.

The beginning of her.

The end of us.

 Add to GOODREADS

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Buy It Now:

Amazon http://amzn.to/1JTAvrk iBooks: http://apple.co/1DZlP2S Nook: http://bit.ly/1FWBCpi

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Book Trailer:

 https://vimeo.com/130929958

Whitney’s Five Star Review:

Holy book hangover batman!  Rachel Van Dyken is a rockstar.  She might be the only author I know who can keep a series going this long and each book is better than the last.  Elude, the sixth installment of the Eagle Elite series, will probably make into my top reads for the year.

There’s just something about Sergio… he’s been a bit more mysterious than the other characters, more mature, just more!  Now we really get to know him and watching him fall for Andi is both devastating and beautiful at the same time.  For two people who never should have been together, Andi and Sergio’s relationship will just make your heart sing.  Though Andi is dying, they both help each other live and learn to love.

As with the rest of the series, there are some twists and turns, some suspense, a bit of violence (pretty light though).  The sexy factor has increased with each book as the characters mature and though it’s not explicit, it is definitely there.

I cannot give spoilers but I will say that we are teased with a few new characters and I am beyond excited for the rest of this series.  I ended this book in a happy place despite having cried my eyes out because Rachel is also good at making us laugh.  She created the perfect balance with this story.  I do recommend reading the series in order as each story builds upon the last.  Don’t let the fact that there are several books though keep you from reading it.  The Eagle Elite series is time well spent!

Elude teaser banner

Excerpt:

“You weren’t kidding about those mimosas.” Andi yawned behind her hand as we walked through Lincoln Park. I’d originally thought to take her to the zoo since she had that odd fascination with animals, but after seeing how tired she was, I decided to save it for another day.

“Well…” I held in my chuckle. “…when you have five of them…”

“I had three.” She held up four fingers.

“Good to know you’re just fine.” I laughed. “Should I carry you?”

“Probably.” She gave me a dopey grin. “But I think I can at least make it to the car.”

“It’s about a mile away.”

“Oh.” Her face fell.

“How about a piggyback ride?” I offered lamely, hating that a simple walk to the car was making her sad because she was so exhausted.

She stopped walking and crossed her arms. “Riding a cowboy was on the list.”

“I’m not following.”

“Talk to me in a southern accent, and I’ll imagine a cowboy hat on that gorgeous head of hair and boom… I’m riding a cowboy.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Andi, I have so many different scenarios that would fit perfectly with that statement. None of them, however, include me carrying you through the park while singing ‘Achy Breaky Heart.'”

“Oh good. You know it then?”

“I need to learn the art of silence.”

“Probably true.” She nodded.

“And teach it to you,” I added.

“Aw, come on cowboy…”

I rolled my eyes and turned around so she could jump onto my back. “Should I find a park bench, or can you actually jump this high?”

“Never ask a ninja if she can jump — it’s degrading.”

“My mistake. I thought you were a short Russian masquerading as a baker. Go ahead, ninja. Jump.”

She did, probably using the rest of the energy she had left. Her arms wrapped around my neck tightly. “Mush.”

“I thought I was a horse.”

“I changed my mind. Girls can do that on occasion.”

Damn, the girl made me smile. The afternoon sun was starting to set as we walked along the path. Andi was encouraging me to use a southern accent in her most Russian accent.

And I was trying to pay attention to our surroundings, just in case we’d somehow been followed.

I thought we were in the clear until we reached the edge of the park. I could see the street, and immediately regretted that simple fact the minute two black sedans pulled up to the curb.

Five men got out.

Two from the first car.

Three from the second.

Andi tensed behind me.

“Andi.” I kept my smile in place like there wasn’t anything wrong. “Got any energy left?”

“Enough.” She shuddered behind me.

“My gun,” I whispered. “It’s in the back of my pants. Reach between your legs and slide it up so nobody sees.”

“You know in any other situation…” she muttered as I felt the gun slide up my back.

“Good,” I encouraged. “The minute I put you down I want you to aim for the guy to the left. Don’t shoot for the head. Hit his kneecap so he goes down. If he reaches for his gun—”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy.”

“You’re right. I forget.”

“I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

The tension left my body. “I won’t. Just don’t get shot. I hate having to sew up bullet wounds.”

“Please.” I could feel the energy riding off her body. “You owe me a massage if my body count’s higher.”

“So now it’s a competition?”

“Russians rarely lose.”

“Well, you should get used to it. Because this Italian’s going to hand you your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

The men were trying to look nonchalant, outside their cars, smoking cigars like they weren’t waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack.

“One,” I whispered.

Andi slid farther down my back. “Two.”

“Three.” The word fell from my lips just as I ducked to the right. Andi went to my left and popped off two rounds directly into the guy’s kneecaps — not just one, but both of them. A crunching sound broke out across the park as he fell on bones, cracking them further. He wailed in pain and surprisingly didn’t reach for his gun.

Three of the men started charging me. Gun less, I could only rely on the fact that my fists were just as deadly as any gun could be, and I punched the first man in the throat then turned and elbowed the next. They stumbled back. Another gunshot went off. Andi was seriously picking them off like she was shooting fish in a bucket.

The three men turned their heads to glare at her. Then, rather than attacking, came at me again.

Surprised, I was knocked in the face by the first guy but sidestepped the next hit then landed a hard blow to his stomach followed by a knee to the groin. With a growl, I head-butted the next guy then punched him in the jaw; the sound of teeth breaking was my only indication that he’d be down for the count.

The final man circled me.

“Let me get him,” Andi pleaded behind me.

“He’s mine,” I barked.

The man shrugged and held up his hands. “You should let girl do your work.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Andi,” the man called, “why not come with us, huh? You’ve done job. Time to come home.”

“Job?” I repeated.

Andi came up beside me and aimed the gun for his forehead. “I’ve never worked for you.”

“Oh?” The man chuckled and glanced at me. “He knows as well as I know… you are never out.”

“Please let me pull the trigger.”

The man ran at us.

I ducked then heaved my body into his, sending him backward against the park bench. Punch after punch I landed to his face, his blood mixing with the slices breaking out on my knuckles.

The sound of sirens interrupted my blatant mutilation of his body.

“Serg…” Andi kicked me. “…gotta disappear.”

I backed up, chest heaving. “Right.”

With one last kick to his body, I grabbed her hand and ran like hell toward our car, our very easy-to-spot car

About Rachel Van Dyken:

Rachel

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .

Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelVanDyken

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RachVD

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4882127.Rachel_Van_Dyken?from_search=true

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rachel-Van-Dyken/e/B0054TW5AA/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1407369649&sr=8-2-ent

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/8l7hP

BLOG TOUR, REVIEW AND GIVEAWAY- The Consequence of Loving Colton by Rachel Van Dyken

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The Consequence of Loving Colton

by Rachel Van Dyken

The Consequence of Loving Colton cover

Synopsis

My name is Milo Caro and I have a confession to make.

I’ve been in love with Colton Mathews since I was five. He should have known that sharing a cookie with a sugar obsessed little monster would do the trick–it sealed his fate. So really, the fact that he’s sporting a black eye, a limp, almost got ran over by a car, and was nearly responsible for another person’s death? Right. HIs fault. Not mine.

I made a pact with myself–this weekend would be different. I’d come home for my brothers wedding, smile, and Colton would naturally melt into my arms, we’d get married have five kids, live in a house by the river, and get a dog named scratch (clearly I’ve thought this through).

What really happened? I punched my brother in the face, Colton kissed me and apologized, I lied about having a boyfriend, oh and everyone wants to meet the mystery man.

They say laughter always comes before insanity–ha, ha. All I wanted was my brother’s best friend…instead I’m sitting in prison.

Let this be a lesson to you all…life rarely happens the way you want it to.

Damn cookie.

Check out the playlist HERE 

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Buy It Now

Amazon 

Add to Goodreads

Whitney’s 4 Star Review

I adore Rachel Van Dyken and while I prefer her more dramatic/angsty books, there’s always room for a romantic comedy, right?Rachel’s brand of humor is evident in all of her books but this one is jam packed. Milo, Colton, Max, Jason… the whole cast act pretty silly the entire book. For me, that’s a good thing and a bad thing.If you’re in the mood to read something a little crazy and light, something that won’t make you think very much, this book is a nice break. Milo and Colton are likeable, albeit a bit immature. I actually liked Max the best. Milo’s best friend steals the show almost every scene he’s in and though his humor is probably the most over the top, I still adored him.Romantic comedy is a hard genre for me because I’m picky. So I thought a lot of the scenes themselves were funny but put them all together and it was a bit too much sometimes. However, Rachel’s writing is fast paced and for the light book is was, the character development was great. Lots of fun side characters, even Milo’s parents were funny.  And though this book is still pretty clean, it’s pretty sexy.If you’re an RVD fan or love humor that’s a bit silly and over the top, this book is for you. Had I read this book after a horribly angsty book, I probably would have appreciated it more. And I don’t mean for this review to sound negative because it’s not intended that way. I wouldn’t have given it four stars if I didn’t enjoy it.  Definitely looking forward to Max and Reid’s stories.

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Enter the Giveaway HERE!

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 Prologue

Summer 2009

“I can’t believe you’re really going to college, Milo.” Colton’s teasing smile flashed right in front of me, rendering me temporarily blind. Man, he was beautiful. His normally dark-brown hair had shots of gold from the summer sun. Dimples peeked out from his mega-white smile and I was pretty confident that I saw a twinkle in his green eyes meant just for me. He’d been home for two months since graduation and was already off saving the world one fire at a time. I watched his full lips curve around the mouth of his Corona. He and my brother Jason had organized a going-away party for me. Apparently me getting accepted into NYU was a big deal: they’d even gone so far as to get a Star Wars–themed cake from Dairy Queen and a princess tiara that said “Pretty” across it. It was always their joke with me. I was a complete and total tomboy—I loved picking fights and getting muddy—yet still demanded they treat me like a princess.

With a sigh I leaned back on the picnic blanket and looked up at the stars. My crown fell to the side of my head, causing my hair to fall all over my face. The party had been over for a few hours, leaving me, Colt, and Jason. I should have been happy: after all, who does that for their little sister? What brother would even care? Furthermore, the fact that it had all been Colt’s idea, someone who wasn’t even family, was huge. But . . . maybe that’s the part that left me feeling empty. I might as well be family to Colton. I was the little sister he’d never had—and secretly, I’d always wanted to be so much more.

“Aw, you messed up your hair,” Colton teased, lifting the crown with the tip of his finger and giving me a sexy wink.

“Whatever shall I do?” I huffed.

“I’ll save you.” His voice was just above a whisper. “I’ve always wanted to save a princess.”

“You did.” My grin was huge. “You saved me a least a hundred times when we were little—slew the dragon at the top of the stairs and did it all without getting a scratch.”

“Messy job.” He let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know how I made it to my twenty-first birthday without getting singed.”

“Donald didn’t breathe fire. He was a fireless dragon, remember?”

“Oh, right.” His eyes twinkled. “How is the old dragon anyway?”

I shrugged and chewed on my lower lip. “Haven’t been in the attic since you guys left for school. I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to play?”

I rolled my eyes. “Too busy graduating to play, yeah.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun.” I snorted. “The last time I had fun was when we snuck into your parents’ pool and—” I clamped my mouth shut before the words could tumble out on their own. Crap. Crap. Crap.

“Skinny-dipped.” He finished my thought. “Yeah, that was a blast.”

“Hey, guys!” Jason called as he ran out of the house. “Dad needs me to grab Mom from work so I’ll be right back! Don’t do anything fun without me! I mean it!”

The loud roar from his truck drowned out our conversation for a brief second and then slowly dissipated as the vehicle barreled down the driveway.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Colton asked.

If his thoughts were along the line of finally getting him alone, away from my brother? “Absolutely.” I grinned as he grabbed my hand and helped me off the blanket.

“Come on. Let’s go have fun.”

Curious, I followed Colt as we ran through a few backyards and finally ended up at his house.

“What are we doing?” I asked in a hushed voice.

“Having fun.” I swear his grin made my heart almost stop. “Now strip, Milo, we don’t have all night and Jason’s going to be pissed he isn’t with us.”

Laughing, I took off my shirt and shorts—I’d spent years swimming with the guys in my sports bra and underwear, though as we got older it became weird, but only on my end. It felt strange to strip down to nothing, knowing that my feelings for Colton were very real whereas his were nonexistent. I mean, it was Colton. Sure, I had a crush on him, but he never, ever thought of me that way. Ever.

“Last one in’s a rotten—”

I didn’t hear him finish—but I did beat him into the water. His mom and stepdad’s pool was always my favorite place to swim. It had a little waterfall in the deep end that you could swim under that always made me think of fairy tales and the movies. Then again, that could be because every time I broke through the water it was Colton’s face I saw, and his smile that drew me. He was my own personal Prince Charming.

Laughing, Colton splashed around, then hauled himself out of the pool and did a cannonball right by my face. I was glad that it was dark—I must have been beet-red. Man, the guy was ripped.

“Wanna race?” he asked, out of breath.

“Wanna lose?” I countered.

“Never.”

“Um, it’s an everyday occurrence.” I swam over to the edge. “Ready, set—”

“—go!” He ran instead of swam and then dove under water.

Bastard! Arms burning, I tried to make it to the other end of the pool. I usually didn’t open my eyes under water, but this time I did to see where I was going.

His body was a blur in front of me. All I saw was hard-lined muscle.

I stopped right in front of him and jumped to the surface. “You cheated.”

“I like to call it winning.” He beamed triumphantly.

“Cheating.” My teeth ground together as I pushed against his chest. Laughing, he fell backward, pulling me with him. Our bodies ground together, heat against heat, skin against skin.

And suddenly sneaking away from Jason wasn’t funny anymore.

Neither of us was laughing.

His hands moved from my waist slowly up my body until they rested on my face. With a curse he pulled my head toward his. “We should . . .”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

Neither of us pulled away.

His lips brushed mine, just enough to make me strain toward him—I needed him like I needed air.

“Kids!” His stepdad’s voice rang through the night air. “You out here making noise?”

Colton pushed me away and I nearly hit my head on the waterfall rocks.

“Yeah, just . . . hanging out!” Colton called. “I’m with Jason’s sister.”

I froze. He’d never called me that before. He even said it in such a final way, as if that was all I would ever be. Period. My heart didn’t just sink . . . it shuddered, then combusted, as all the hopes I’d harbored since I was thirteen came to a crushing world-altering halt. My suspicions were finally confirmed. Out loud. On the day the boy I liked had thought enough to throw me a party.

The line had been drawn. And I might as well be on the other side of the universe.

That was the day I lost Colton Mathews—forever.

About the Author

Rachel

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.


She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

Facebook / Twitter

RELEASE BLITZ AND GIVEAWAY- The Consequence of Loving Colton by Rachel Van Dyken

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The Consequence of Loving Colton

by Rachel Van Dyken

Available Now!

The Consequence of Loving Colton cover

Synopsis

My name is Milo Caro and I have a confession to make.

I’ve been in love with Colton Mathews since I was five. He should have known that sharing a cookie with a sugar obsessed little monster would do the trick–it sealed his fate. So really, the fact that he’s sporting a black eye, a limp, almost got ran over by a car, and was nearly responsible for another person’s death? Right. HIs fault. Not mine.

I made a pact with myself–this weekend would be different. I’d come home for my brothers wedding, smile, and Colton would naturally melt into my arms, we’d get married have five kids, live in a house by the river, and get a dog named scratch (clearly I’ve thought this through).

What really happened? I punched my brother in the face, Colton kissed me and apologized, I lied about having a boyfriend, oh and everyone wants to meet the mystery man.

They say laughter always comes before insanity–ha, ha. All I wanted was my brother’s best friend…instead I’m sitting in prison.

Let this be a lesson to you all…life rarely happens the way you want it to.

Damn cookie.

the consequence teaser 1

Buy It Now

Amazon 

Add to Goodreads

Excerpt

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Max gave me a tender shove. “We were fine until you started stepping on my foot and elbowing me!”

“You were hitting on my mom!”

“She’s a beautiful lady!” he argued.

“Oh, my gosh.” I fell into one of the chairs and moaned. “This is a catastrophe.”

“Not true.” Max shook his head. “You just have to be more believable. I mean, would it kill you to find me screw-worthy?”

“Screw-worthy? What does that even mean?”

“That’s it.” Max grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Uh . . .” I pointed.

With a jerk he had me in the bathroom under the stairs and closed the door. Words and sounds were coming out of his mouth but I couldn’t make anything out. Max pushed me against the door and pointed his finger in my face. “I’m going to kiss you, damn it, and you’re going to like it. And I’m going to take off my shirt and you’re going to manhandle me, and you’re going to stop being so damn nervous or so help me God I’m going to bend you over that sofa in the living room and spank your sexy ass.”

Shocked, I was paralyzed in place. “Where did that come from?”

“Inside.” Max looked at me and smirked. “I have lots of feelings and I’m sick and tired of you looking at me like I don’t have a penis. I may be used to your innocence but for my own pride at least try to be attracted to me. Now close your damn eyes.”

“Stop cursing at me.”

“Stop being difficult! I’m trying to help you. And stop squirming. Shit, take a Xanax or something.”

“Max.” I closed my eyes and huffed. “This isn’t going to—”

My hand was on something hard.

I blinked my eyes open.

Since when did he have a six-pack?

I tilted my head, you know, to get a better look. His skin was really smooth but bumpy, each muscle defined so much that there was enough of a ridge for my hands to play with.

“Oh, look, he’s a man after all,” Max said, sounding bored. “I’m not your sexless friend. I’m not your damn brother. I’m not your gay friend. And I sure as hell am not thinking about anything right now except that your hands feel really good against my skin. So I’m going to kiss you, and you’re going to respond like the idea of my mouth on yours doesn’t make you want to cry—and you’ll like it.”

“I’ll like it,” I repeated.

“There’s my girl.” His eyes flashed, and then he was kissing me again, only this time his body was on fire as it pressed against me. I felt every ridge of his abs; the length of his body was beyond devastating.

Enter the Giveaway HERE!

young woman standing at doorway in apartment

About the Author

Rachel

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.


She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

Facebook / Twitter