4.30.2014

Book Spotlight: Whisper To Me, by Christina Lee

Hi!

If you're into New Adult Contemporary Romance novels, you must know Christina Lee and her books. Guess what? Her next book WHISPER TO ME is coming out May 20th! I don't know you, but I'm quite eager to read this one. But for now, let's settle down with the cover, blurb and more importantly with an excerpt.

Enjoy!


NYT Best selling authors, Christina Lauren said this about WHISPER TO ME "Whisper to me lifts us up by the heartstrings and tosses us wildly about."

USA Today Best selling author, Alice Clayton, said "Christina Lee is a new adult wonder!"




BUY LINKS


Summary

A hot and consuming New Adult romance about a wayward musician and the one girl who keeps him grounded…

At college, Rachel has a reputation for being a sarcastic flirt with a thing for star athletes. No one at school knows that she’d had her heart ripped to shreds by her high school sweetheart, who’d driven them both off the side of the road on a borrowed motorcycle, and then abandoned her. No one knows the real Rachel Mattson—except one person…

Ever since he helped nurse his sister’s feisty best friend back to health, pierced bass player Kai Nakos has been head over heels in love. But the supposed bad boy can’t risk letting Rachel know the truth—especially now that the two of them are back in their hometown for the summer, together for the first time since the months following that fateful night. Never mind that Rachel’s ex is back, groveling for her forgiveness.

Shaken by her ex’s return, Rachel finds herself turning to the one guy she knows she can trust. Kai is willing to hide his feelings for her, just to have Rachel touch him again. After all, this is only a temporary fling. Until it becomes something more. But maybe it had been more all along.
Excerpt

I padded to the kitchen and reached for a glass, unsure if Kai was even awake. As I turned
the faucet on low, I heard it—the soft hum of his bass. My heart leapt in my chest. I didn’t know
what the hell I was so anxious about. But the anticipation of seeing him, just talking to him alone,
had revved my pulse to a feverish tempo.

But maybe he didn’t want any company tonight.

I wandered over to his door, unsure of what I’d say or even if I’d knock. Instead, I stood
motionless, listening to him play. It was a low and drowsy strum, and I swayed against the wall,
my senses dulled. During a longer pause, my knuckles tapped once and then twice against the
wood.

I heard the sounds of what could have been his returning his heavy bass to its stand and
papers rustling, and then the door slowly creaked open. Kai stood in front of me with his hair
hanging loose at his shoulders. He had on those obscenely tight gray skinny jeans from earlier
and nothing else.

My gaze followed the line of his neck, across his shoulder, to the muscular biceps propping
the door open. I spotted the set of free weights resting beneath the stand of his bass. He’d
definitely been working out in the three years since I’d last seen him. He wasn’t overly muscular
like some athletes I’d been with, just lean and fit.

My gaze tripped over to his sculpted pecs and landed on his nipples. His pierced nipples—
that seemed to harden at my perusal.

Fuck, that was hot. Since when did I think silver hoops dangling from a guy’s nipples were
sexy? But on Kai, they worked. Like fruit waiting to be plucked, they hung above the trunk of his
sculpted abdomen, while a smattering of fine hairs branched from beneath the button of his pants.
Hot damn.

“What’s up, Rachel?” He swallowed thickly. “Did I wake you?”

“I . . .” I finally met his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep and I heard you were up.”

“Yeah, me neither.” He moved aside to allow me to pass into the room. “I was trying to be
quiet.”

“Actually, most of the time your music lulls me to sleep.”

“Yeah?” he said in a low and gruff voice. “Is that why you’re here—so I can put you to
sleep?”

“No, you ass.” I grinned. “Well, maybe.” 

When his eyes turned dark, I mumbled, “Just kidding.”

4.25.2014

Cover Reveal - How To Reprimand Your Rock Star, by Mina Vaughn

Hi!

I'm happy to upade my blog - It's long overdue - with a cover reveal! It's not for one of my books, but I hope you'll enjoy it and share with your friends!


How To Reprimand Your Rock Star
By Mina Vaughn




Summary:
In this fun and saucy romance novel, all-star college basketball player Thea dominates on the courts—and off—with a rock star who is determined to win her over.
Thea is a star basketball player at UConn on track to be Rookie of the Year. That is, if she can stay focused on the game. Lately that hasn’t been going so well, as her knee has been bothering her. But that’s not the only thing on her mind…
Ever since rock star Keaton Lowe surprised her in the girl’s locker room, Thea can’t stop thinking about him. On top of his status and enticing ways, he seems to know everything about her. But some of his actions cross the line, and Keaton needs to be punished. Will Thea keep her head in the game, or get distracted by her other favorite pastime—reprimanding her rock star?


Excerpt:

Set up: College basketball star Thea is surprised in her locker room after a shower.
The tall, gorgeous man stared at me with a smirk. Some fucking punk, sitting under my name and number and pulling a cigarette out of his thick leather jacket. He looked bad, dangerous, and delicious and my body reacted to seeing him with a jolt of fear and euphoria. I skittered back and covered my nakedness, hoping he hadn’t seen me fully naked. I peeked around the corner to get another look at him. I couldn’t help myself.
His blue eyes twinkled at me and he grinned. A lopsided, roguish grin that begged you to join him in sharing the mirth. But I wasn’t about to smile at this fool who was taking up residence in front of my locker. Especially while I was naked. He didn’t look like a student—a few years too old and a few drinks too seasoned, and from the rebellious appearance of his black-polished fingers and calloused hands. His hair, a mess of black roots and blue spikes arranged into a halo of sharp peaks, didn’t look very UConn at all. He looked as if he belonged in a tattoo parlor, not here in my locker room. For a moment, I imagined shoving him against the tile wall and punishing him for transgressing into my domain.
“It’s all right, love, I have your towel right here,” I heard him tease in a smoky, tempting voice.
My heart raced. All I had to do was scream loud enough and Matt would be down here in a flash. I didn’t want to, but it was an option. Just keep it together.
Keeping my nude form out of his sight, I shouted to the intruder. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” 
A white towel sailed my way and I stuck my wet arm out to grab it. I wiped myself off and discreetly examined the very bad boy who was about to stink up my precious domain.
“I needed a butt,” he said, placing a cigarette between his mocking lips. His sexy, curvy lips that went so well with his stubbly jaw and sharp features. Shit, what was wrong with me? He was invading my turf. He was also unashamedly checking me out from head to toe.
“Take your butt and get out of my locker room,” I growled.
With a flick of his fingers, the unlit cigarette disappeared. I assumed up his leather jacket’s sleeve, but I couldn’t be sure. His leather pants were far too tight to hide a cigarette, and I caught myself staring. Under his leather jacket was a threadbare tee that hugged his lean muscles tightly. I wanted him to take the jacket off. Hell, all of it.
“Whatever you say, Goddess,” he replied. I noted a slight accent, but couldn’t place it. Possibly British. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, looking behind him at the name on the nameplate and the name embroidered on my jacket.
I emerged, pretending to be unfettered by the whole bizarre situation, and nodded. “That’s my locker.”
“Is it now?” he asked, British accent coming through clearly now.
“Thea Papastathopoulos, future Rookie of the Year, and I need my clothes. And my lucky tape.”
His eyebrow quirked up. “Tape, eh? What’s a nice girl like you need something like that for?”
I hugged the towel closer to me and tried not to join in his contagious grin. He was such a scamp, this carefree weirdo sitting in the women’s locker room, about to light up. “What’s wrong with tape?”
I didn’t notice his hand reaching around to my supply, but within seconds he was holding my lucky roll in his right hand. “This stuff is far too naughty for a good girl like you. A goddess of war and wisdom.”
I felt my mouth dry up at the oddly accurate yet strange observation. I am a classics major, and Thea is short for Athena. “I need it for my knee,” I said, holding out my hand, keeping my towel pinned with my armpit. “I have some big games coming up. We made it to the tournament.” I nearly clutched my head with embarrassment. How would a punk like this know what the tournament was, or the significance of it? I was making myself out to be an idiot, but I didn’t care. I didn’t go for his type, the gothic, pierced, tattooed kind of guy.
Normally.
“I like games,” he said, tossing the roll into the air and catching it behind him with a flourish.
“And yet you clearly don’t respect rules, given that you were about to smoke in our locker room.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “You going to show me how you use this tape, Goddess? Although I admit I’d rather see it binding my wrists rather than wrapped around your pretty knee.”
I reached forward and attempted to take the roll, but he just tossed it in the air again and caught it in his other hand before I could take a swipe. He shrugged off his leather jacket and exposed his muscular arms, which were ensleeved in tattoos. Not wanting to stare, but unable to stop myself, I admired the artwork. Swirling waves up his left arm, words spiraling his right.
I had no idea what to make of him, other than the fact that he annoyed me with his don’t-give-a-fuck attitude and absurd hotness I wanted so badly to ignore. Maybe it was just my nakedness that was making my body think this way. And by that I meant slamming him against the tiles under the water’s spray and relieving him of his leather. I felt my heart pound and I rejected the fantasy. He was an intruder. How did this guy get past security if they stopped me?
I leaned toward him. “My friend upstairs, Matt, is a security guard. All I have to do is call up to him and he’ll be hauling your punk ass out of here. But I won’t do that if you just give me my goddamn tape so I can fix my bum knee and get home to watch the game.” I wasn’t about to ask him about my clothes, so I pretended I was totally cool with being in a towel and waited for his response.
He studied me for a moment, all sexy grin and naughty blue eyes. Baby blue, like the color of clothes you buy a newborn. Powder blue, impossibly clear. Ringed with a smudge of black liner, the color popped even more. And his face, despite being in his twenties or maybe even thirties, had a youthful, almost kiddish quality when he smiled that softened the harsh angles of his nose, cheeks, and jaw. He tossed me the tape.
“What’s your name?” I asked, curiosity overtaking my anger.
“Keaton Lowe,” he said, dipping his voice an octave as he said his last name.
He looked at me expectantly.
I stared back, hot breath flooding in and out of my nostrils.
“Well,” he said, stretching his toned arms and lacing them behind his head, “this tape isn’t going to bind itself.”
I wanted to wring his neck but kiss the smile off his mouth. “What are you talking about?!”
“I might as well do it myself,” he said, and turned away from me. He spun and showed me his handiwork—his wrists were taped together behind his head. My body reacted with a flood of tingles from my hairline down to my panty line. Had I been wearing any, that is.
I looked down. My tape was no longer in my hands. My body took over my mind and I stood over him, looking down at him through a cascade of damp brown curls.
“Have a seat,” he rasped.
Some primal part of me wanted to sit my bare legs down on his lanky, leather-clad body. I wanted to get rough with him, pin him down, and have my way with him. Another part of me didn’t want him bossing me around. It should be the other way.
“No, you stand,” I replied.
His blue eyes sparked and he met my request with a smile that left me dazed and breathless. I felt the towel slide incrementally down.
“I’m glad you want to call the shots, darling.”
I placed my hand on his chest. “Don’t call me darling.”
“Goddess, then.”


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Bio:

Kink with a wink! Mina Vaughn is an international woman of mystery and a shoe whore with a heart of gold. When she's not writing her unique brand of fun smut, she's plundering Sephora for any pin up girl makeup she can find. Mina's debut novel, an erotic comedy entitled How to Discipline Your Vampire is about a punishment-seeking vampire who meets a quirky Domme with a serious role play fetish, available now from Simon and Schuster's Pocket Star. How to Reprimand Your Rock Star, a sexy New Adult contemporary romance about a basketball phenom and a world-famous rocker, arrives Summer 2014.  How to Punish Your Playboy arrives Spring 2015.
@minavaughn

www.minavaughn.com

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