Blog Tour Promo Post: Sweet Ache by K. Bromberg

Meet Hawke and Quinlan in SWEET ACHE - the newest Rock Star stand-alone in the Driven Series by K. Bromberg!

The New York Times bestselling author of Slow Burn turns up the heat when a sexy bet turns into so much more....

Hawkin Play, the bad boy rock star with a good guy heart, has lived a lifetime of cleaning up after his twin brother’s mistakes. Hunter’s most recent screwup could land Hawke in jail and risk the band’s future. Hawke agrees to guest lecture at a local college to stay in the judge’s good graces—and a bet with his bandmate to seduce his sexy teaching assistant is icing on the cake.

Quinlan Westin is harder to bed than Hawke imagined. She knows his type and is determined to avoid the rocker at all costs—even if their attraction runs deeper than simple lust.

Just as Hawke might finally be winning over the girl, his brother has other plans. When Hunter realizes his twin finally has a weakness, he’ll stop at nothing to take advantage....

NOW AVAILABLE!

Amazon US  |  Kindle | Amazon UK | nook | kobo | iBooks | Book Depository

EXCERPT

Quinlan

“Now you guys need to get going so you have time for Quin to give you the complete rundown,” Professor Stevens says.

Of course she has no idea the double entendre she’s just given Hawkin about me giving him a complete rundown, but I know Hawke catches it. I manage to resist the urge to stomp my feet in frustration and storm out of her office like a toddler. Instead I give her a tight smile before turning and walking out of the office and then the department.

I stand there in the sunshine, waiting for him to get his ass in gear and quit wasting my time. When I finally hear the door open I just start walking and the sound of his boots is the only inclination that he’s following.

“I’ve got longer legs than you Trixie,” he chides from a few feet back. “But feel free to keep swinging your hips like that, and I’ll stay right here behind you and enjoy the show.”

I bristle at the comment. At the moment there’s no authority to be respectful of, no damage that can’t be undone.

“A show?” The pitch of my voice escalates as I whirl around to face him—sunglasses on, hair disheveled, and I wish I hadn’t turned around because damn, he’s just that devastatingly fine. I’m quiet for a beat as we both appraise each other from behind darkened lenses. His dark hair, tanned skin, and cocky smirk pulls at those parts of me I don’t want to be pulled. “You want to talk about a show.” I grit the words out, trying to push my physical attraction to him from my mind. “Let’s talk about your little performance for Dr. Stevens.”

“I know. I’m good, huh? Sorry but a man’s got to do what he’s got to do . . . Besides, I wasn’t done with you yet.”

My mouth falls lax and I’m momentarily flabbergasted. “Done with me yet?” I sputter the words when I’ve recovered my wits at his arrogance run amuck . . . But I can’t deny the little flutter in my belly at his comment. There’s just something about him aside from the whole I’m a rock-star thing, that makes me desire him in a way I can’t put into words.

“Yep.” He says casually as he unwraps a Starburst and pops it into his mouth. And I hate that I’m fascinated with watching his mouth suck on the sweet candy. Luckily he speaks so I can distract myself from the captivating sight. “I’m pretty sure you have a usefulness . . . I’m just trying to figure out what that is.” He licks his lips. “Well, besides the obvious, that is . . .” Smirk is handily in place and I hate that ache starting to simmer in my core.

“Why don’t you go suck a—”

“Relax,” he says, angling his head to the side and emitting a laugh as he steps closer to me. “I’m just teasing you. You’re so damn easy to rile up and so hard to resist. Plus you’re even hotter when you’re pissed. I like it.” He shrugs an apology, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans with a sheepish grin that softens all those hard edges and makes me sigh with the contrast of characteristics. He holds a red Starburst out to me as a peace offering. “C’mon, you know you want to be the star to my burst.”

We’ve stopped, my hands are on my hips, and the sun is falls around us as hewaits for me to react to his innocent little comment. Deep down I know I’m screwed. I feel an urge to smile but immediately realign my defenses. The contradiction he presents, the smooth with the rough, is the one thing that I always fall for when it comes to men.

And I’m not going to fall for Hawkin Play.

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg is that reserved woman sitting in the corner who has you all fooled about the wild child inside of her—the one she lets out every time her fingertips touch the computer keyboard.

K. lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. When she needs a break from the daily chaos of her life, you can most likely find her on the treadmill or with Kindle in hand, devouring the pages of a good, saucy book.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Her debut novels, Driven, Fueled, and Crashed of The Driven Trilogy were well received and went on to become multi-platform bestsellers as well as landing on the New York Times and USA Today lists. Her other works include a short story, UnRaveled, and a companion piece to The Driven Trilogy titled Raced. She is currently working on three stand alone Driven novels, Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, and Hard Beat. She also plans to release a novel addressing the 10 year gap at the ending of Crashed in late fall 2015

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon

EPIC GIVEAWAY

$250 AMAZON GIFT CARD  (2 Winners)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

THANK YOU!

Release Blitz: Cover Me by Carrie Elliot

Title: Cover Me

Author: Carrie Elliott

Release date: June 23rd, 2014

Blurb

Derek Bast, always has the final say. In business and in his personal life, things are done his way, or not at all. So when a scathing review of his new band is published in The Scene and has his record producer second guessing his artistic choices, his band mate trying to call the shots, and Bast’s manager convinced he’s impossible to work with, it’s time to hunt down the source of his problems: Bess Halprin, reviewer for The Scene, the girl next door growing up, and his ex-best friend since senior year when she decided to hate him for no reason.

The last person Bess Halprin wants to see standing in the lobby of The Scene is Derek Bast. Unfortunately, she can’t deny that the last nine years look damn good on him. She expected to hate him. She didn’t expect the way he can still tug at her emotions, or the way his kiss—and his hands—set her on fire. Bess should’ve kept her distance, because Bast was right when he guessed her review was written for revenge. The problem is, to this day he has no idea what he did—how he screwed her over their senior year. The bigger problem? She’s giving him the opportunity to do it again, because she never could resist him.

When circumstances bring them both home to Santa Cruz, Bast earns his way into the heart of the girl next door, but when they return to L.A. and real life rushes in, will he be able to keep her this time or are the mistakes in their past destined to be repeated?

Excerpt

When the hell did Bess get so feisty? I thought I had her there for a minute. She was so close to giving in. Jesus, with any other woman, I’d already be in a room upstairs, naked and sweaty.

That wasn’t something I’d ever wanted before with Bess, so it was a strange thought. There was the one time we kissed and it was as much a shock to me as it was to her. I didn’t even remember who initiated it, but both of us agreed it wasn’t something that should happen again, so that couldn’t be what she was pissed about.

Why had we agreed it shouldn’t happen again?

Oh, right, because she wasn’t whoever she was now. This Bess was a temptress, intentional or not. Her hair was silky soft, her scent somewhere on the side of floral, but with hints of vanilla that made me want to lick her like an ice cream cone. And those freaking glasses. My God, I wanted to fuck her in her thigh highs, red heels and black-rimmed glasses.

I downed half my Jameson to settle down. The point of this meeting was to get her to retract her review, not to get her out of her skirt. She’d already shot down my attempt at that anyway.

I hadn’t planned on the word vomit that came out about the day she left for college or Christmas Eve. It pissed me off, though. No matter what happened between us, no matter that we didn’t talk all senior year, she was leaving—going away—and I figured whatever went wrong between us would be put aside to say goodbye. Apparently, she’d ridded herself of me long before then.

Too bad for her, I was back and not going anywhere until I had answers and a retraction of the review she admitted had a personal slant to it.

I slammed back the rest of my drink, heard her heels clicking on the tile floor toward me, spun around and stood up.

“Ready?” she asked.

“For dinner. I’m starving.”

She heaved a sigh and gave me an exaggerated blink. “It’s been nice catching up. Good luck to you, Derek.” Then she turned and headed for the lobby.
“Where do you want to eat?” I asked, not letting her off the hook. I glanced down at my jeans and t-shirt. “I’m not really dressed for anything too fancy, but I remember you love a good burger.”

She stopped and faced me, let her eyes wander over my face, then down to my chest, my waist, my legs. When she looked back up her expression was odd, almost sorrowful. “What?” I asked.

Bess shook her head slightly. “I don’t want to regret this.”

Her words were heavy with meaning. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that much meaning. “It’s only dinner.”

She reached up and put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s never only anything with you.”

I wasn’t sure she meant that in a good way or a bad way. Maybe she didn’t know either. “Burgers then?”

Bess let her shoulders relax and her mouth shift into a smile. “Burgers.”

She turned and strode toward the doors. “Forgiveness?” I asked.

“Not on the menu,” she said, flinging the words over her shoulder.

“Maybe not tonight…” I said.

“Maybe not ever.” She smiled at the doorman as we passed.

About the Author

Carrie Elliott is the author of the rock star romance, Cover Me and its follow-up, the short story Listen To Me (available free to newsletter subscribers after July 23: http://eepurl.com/SYvZD). She lives in Ohio with her husband and two kids, is forever remodeling and undergoing a DIY projects, loves to read and hates to cook. Coffee and dark chocolate are her writing fuel and she’s stocking up! Look for more hot guys and feisty women to come!

Facebook | Goodreads | Website

Cover Reveal: Cover Me by Carrie Elliott

Title: Cover Me

Author: Carrie Elliott

Release Date: June 23, 2014

Synopsis

Derek Bast, always has the final say. In business and in his personal life, things are done his way, or not at all. So when a scathing review of his new band is published in The Scene and has his record producer second guessing his artistic choices, his band mate trying to call the shots, and Bast’s manager convinced he’s impossible to work with, it’s time to hunt down the source of his problems: Bess Halprin, reviewer for The Scene, the girl next door growing up, and his ex-best friend since senior year when she decided to hate him for no reason.

The last person Bess Halprin wants to see standing in the lobby of The Scene is Derek Bast. Unfortunately, she can’t deny that the last nine years look damn good on him. She expected to hate him. She didn’t expect the way he can still tug at her emotions, or the way his kiss—and his hands—set her on fire. Bess should’ve kept her distance, because Bast was right when he guessed her review was written for revenge. The problem is, to this day he has no idea what he did—how he screwed her over their senior year. The bigger problem? She’s giving him the opportunity to do it again, because she never could resist him.

When circumstances bring them both home to Santa Cruz, Bast earns his way into the heart of the girl next door, but when they return to L.A. and real life rushes in, will he be able to keep her this time or are the mistakes in their past destined to be repeated?

Excerpt

Derek

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I threw The Scene down onto the marble table in front of my band manager, Kurt Detrick. “She’s hated me since high school. That’s what this shit review is about. Revenge.”

Kurt sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I don’t know, D. I mean, it is a shit review, but every time I’ve dealt with Bess Halprin she’s been nothing but professional. I’m not sure she’d risk the reputation of her magazine for revenge.”

“Whatever the case,” Joe Schmidt, my record producer said, his voice echoing from the conference phone in the middle of the table, “she makes some good points. We need to rethink the tracks we have recorded, maybe ditch them altogether and find something else.”

“Good points? Ditch them?” Was he fucking insane? I snatched the magazine off the table and read, “Unholy Union is a quintessential band name for the mind-numbing melding of indie-to-corporate singer/song-writer, Derek Bast, and teen pop sensation, Adrian. In no known universe should the music of these two collide.”

I whacked Adrian on the arm with The Scene—Adrian who used no last name, like Prince or Madonna. “Hey. Pretty boy. You got anything you want to add to this conversation?”

Adrian shook his head, his hair whipping around his face. “Nah. Not really.”

I clenched my teeth. My jaw twitched. “Joe. We’ll call you back.” I reached over and jabbed the off button on the phone.

Kurt flew forward. “What the--”

“Kurt.” My chest constricted, tight as stone. My nostrils flared with the effort to inhale, exhale and not rip someone’s face off. “Fuck you.” I pointed to Adrian. “And fuck you.” I pushed away from the table and stood so fast, my chair fell over. “Since I’m the only one who gives a shit about Joe trashing the tracks we recorded, I’ll go fix this.” I gave them a mock bow. “You’re both fucking welcome.”

I couldn’t say I remembered the drive across town. There were flashes from the paparazzi when my tires squealed out of the parking garage, but then I was lost in a blind rage until pulling up in front of the ugly glass building where The Scene’s offices were located.

A scruffy guy in filthy clothes sat on the ground beside a palm tree. This wasn’t the best part of L.A. if there even was such a thing. “Hey. Do me a favor.” I pulled a hundred dollar bill out of my pocket and held it out to him. He scrambled to his feet. “Don’t let anyone near my car.” He nodded, shoving the cash in his pocket.

The reception area was bright and modern with purple furniture, Wi-Fi stations and flavored coffee set up on a cart with a striped awning, like we were outside. It reminded me of Willy Wonka’s factory.

“Can I help you?” A blond with big blue eyes looked up from behind the rounded desk. “Oh! Derek Bast.” Her throat rippled as she swallowed hard. It put an image in my mind that made me look away.

“I need to see Bess Halprin.”

“I’m not sure she’s in the office. Did you have an appointment?” She clicked on her computer screen, quickly searching Bess’s appointments.

“No. It’s urgent. Do you know where she is?”

“Behind you,” said a deep female voice that clawed its way up my back.

I turned to see Bess standing a few feet from me. The realization hit that after all the years we spent living beside each other growing up in Santa Cruz, that this was the first time I’d seen her in about nine years, since high school.

This Bess Halprin wasn’t the skinny girl with baggy jeans and glasses who used to knock on my door every Friday after school to try and get me to go to her youth group roller skating party with her. She didn’t even look like the girl who was voted most likely to become first female President of The United States in high school. This girl—woman—was someone I didn’t know.

Bess Halprin grew up.

And filled in.

“Stop starting at my boobs, Bast.” She tugged the strap of her black leather bag up higher on her shoulder.

Giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway