Showing posts with label new adult romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new adult romance. Show all posts

Thursday, April 24, 2025

Walk the Line - Blood & Bone Legacy #1 - Contemporary New Adult Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #ContemporaryRomance #NewAdultRomance #NA #Giveaway

Natalie Parker and Paula Dombrowiak are here to tell us about their contemporary new adult romance Walk the Line, Blood & Bone Legacy #1.

There's also a great giveaway.

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Walk the Line
Natalie Parker, Paula Dombrowiak
(Blood & Bone Legacy, #1)
Publication date: April 22nd 2025
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

It was supposed to be simple: Film the tour. Build my portfolio. And for Heavens sake, keep it in my pants.

Then I met Felix Krasinski.

The captivating and infuriatingly cocky frontman of Velvet Drift commands attention everywhere he goes—including mine. Am I proud of it? No. I’m supposed to be filming their perfromance, not fantasizing about his perfect abs. I’m determined to be taken seriously, and hooking up with the ridiculously hot rockstar is the fastest way to tank my credibility.

Felix is always in control, and I’m an impulsive rule-breaker. We don’t make sense. But we can’t seem to stay away from each other.

Because, between his uptight habits and annoyingly perfect jawline, there’s more to Felix than his stage presence and legendary last name. He’s protective, vulnerable, and gets me in a way no one else does.

But my career depends on keeping things professional, and his future hinges on staying laser-focused on his band’s success.

Every heated argument, every stolen kiss, makes me want to throw caution—and professionalism—to the wind.

One thing’s certain—this summer tour is about to get a lot more complicated than I bargained for.

Walk the Line is the first book in the Blood & Bone and Turn it Up second generation series crossover. Grab this new adult, angsty, forced proximity, steamy contemporary rockstar romance. Walk the Line can be read as a standalone.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“What the…?” My voice trails off as I take in the dark, angry bruise on my skin.

A hickey.

And not just any hickey—this is the mother of all hickeys.

It’s a masterpiece of malice, blooming in deep purples and reds, unapologetically high on my neck. No amount of foundation could hide this, and it’s far too conspicuous for even the highest collar. There was no fucking around when she decided to do this. She wanted me marked.

“Maggie!” I call, my voice bouncing off the walls as I step out of the bathroom. Her only response is the sound of sheets rustling and a half-asleep groan. I glance back at the mirror, rubbing at the bruise like it might magically fade. Who even gives hickeys anymore?

When I step out, I find her perched on the kitchen counter, one leg dangling lazily while the other’s tucked beneath her. She’s cradling a mug of coffee—my coffee—the steam curling up around her face. And she’s wearing my Henley, the fabric hanging loose on her but clinging just enough in places to make my brain short-circuit. The soft gray color makes her blue eyes pop, and they blink at me with an innocence that’s so utterly contrived, I almost laugh. Almost. And fuck, she made me temporarily forget about the hickey.

“What is this?” I demand, pointing to the bruise on my neck as I stride closer.

She tilts her head like she’s admiring a painting. She leans in, her lips so close I can feel the ghost of her breath. She presses a kiss to the bruise, and I swear my brain briefly loses all function.

“That,” she says, her voice honey-sweet, “is a hickey.”

“I know what it is, baby,” I snap, though the grin threatening to break free betrays me. “I have press with Ivy today.” My tone is exasperated, but she doesn’t look the least bit sorry.

“I know.” Her lips curve into a slow, self-satisfied smile, the kind that makes her look like a sexy as fuck brat. Lucky for her, I happen to like brats.

I grab her coffee mug, setting it down deliberately and grab her by the waist, pulling her flush against me. She lets out a surprised little gasp, her hands instinctively bracing against my chest.

“You fucking scare me sometimes, Sass,” I murmur before claiming her lips.

Author Bio:

Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.

For more ways to learn about Paula and her books, check out her website: @www.pauladombrowiak.com

Natalie Parker resides in the Seattle area with her husband and two rugrats, but is originally a Michigan girl.

She always enjoyed writing and noticed she had a knack for it while earning her Psychology degree and has always been an avid reader, but never thought of becoming an author until one day there seemed to be a story to tell.

In her spare time, she enjoys reading, reading, reading to her kids, drinking coffee, reading, occasional yardwork, reading, listening to music, reading and writing.

Stay tuned for more to come for your favorite characters of the Turn it Up series!


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Thursday, January 30, 2025

Chasing Headlines - Chasing Victory #1 - Contemporary New Adult Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #ContemporaryRomance #NewAdultRomance #NA #ContemporaryNewAdultRomance #Giveaway

J. Rose Black is here to tell us about Chasing Headlines, Chasing Victory #1, a contemporary New Adult romance.

There's also a great giveaway.

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Chasing Headlines
J. Rose Black
(Chasing Victory, #1)
Publication date: January 2nd 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

They’re chasing the same dream…
Too bad they’re not on the same team.

When Breslin Cooper’s major league dreams go up in flames, he’s left with his backup plan: college baseball at Texas State Tech in Vanquer, Texas. But his public altercation with a reporter saddles him with mandated community service, therapy–and a toxic “Storm Cooper” reputation that no professional baseball scout will touch.

Liv Milline’s family name is practically synonymous with IML baseball. Yet despite her love for the game (the tight pants aren’t bad, either) and her dreams of becoming a baseball scout–her father holds one, ironclad rule: No baseball for Olivia (the corollary: no baseball players for Olivia is just downright mean).

Her one loophole? Playing baseball beat reporter for Texas State Tech.

Chasing similar dreams, Liv attempts to befriend Breslin. But the amazingly talented, pain in her aperture has only two words to say whenever she’s around: “No comment”.

Still, she can’t help but notice the troubled ballplayer’s running on overload. Emotionally wounded and reeling from his mother’s death, the only time Breslin seems close to “ok” is on the ballfield. Liv and his new teammates can’t seem to get through.

When a lapse in judgment catches Breslin in a real-world rundown, jeopardizing his probation and his baseball scholarship, his only choice may be to rely on Liv–the aggravating, attractive, and utterly relentless reporter, chasing her latest headline.

[Book one of a series, Chasing Headlines ends with a HFN, no cliffhanger, but lingering / unresolved issues waiting to bite them in the butt in Book 2.]

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Breslin POV

I threw my glove in my locker and grabbed my backpack from the hook. I imagined myself bounding out of the room, but my legs barely managed more than a shuffle.

Still, I must have gotten going a bit too fast because, the next thing I knew, Rally Girl was on the ground, phone skittering across the tile.

And I was the asshole. Shit.

She sat on her rear in the center of the hallway, rubbed her hip and winced. Fuck, is she going to claim I injured her—to get back at me for earlier? I glanced behind me at the locker room door. She can follow me. I looked at the exit door. I’d have to step over her. That would be ridiculous. I had more integrity than that.

Still . . .

She hissed through clenched teeth.

“You . . .” Dammit, what was her name? I had not been paying attention to anything other than, well, my shirt. On her body. Idiot.

“Well, what’s left of me. Geez, do you eat bricks for breakfast or what?”

Her legs, long and tan and open—they bent at the knee as she rested her elbows on them. And apparently, my body was not too tired to enjoy the view.

“I’m not hurt and I’m not upset. But maybe you could help me up?” She spoke in a soft voice. Dark eyelashes framed bright blue-green eyes.

I extended a hand and tugged her to her feet. She stood for a breath, two. So close. Connected. Something about the feel of her skin against mine . . . A small, but soothing warmth tingled through the nerves in my hand, sparking a heated rush from my palm to my neck.

A sharp breath, and then her fingers slid from my grasp. I missed the warmth of her.

“. . . maybe offer an apology?” She moved her hand up and down in a phantom handshake. “Sure, Coop. No hard feelings.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. Can this be over? I panted for air and shifted back a step. Her being the hot chick in the water fountain had been one thing. I could have tried to find her, always wondered, haunted the student center in the hopes I’d run into her again.

Her being a reporter meant all of those things went on the “no fucking way, ever” list.

“I don’t know what you’re over there thinking, but, I wouldn’t hurt you. You mean too much to the team.” She frowned. “This was an accident. Not that it didn’t jar me to the bone. You missed your calling as a linebacker.”

I blinked. Opened my mouth. Re-ran the words through my brain. She just said a shit ton of stuff, and what the fuck was any of it about?

“I’m fine, really. You need to stop gushing over me. All the upset is really beneath you.” One eyebrow rose and she crossed her arms. How did she breathe while saying all those words?

“Um, are you OK?” She leaned closer.

I stared at her mouth. “You talk a lot.”

Her arms dropped to her sides. “That’s what you have to say? Not a ‘You OK?’ or ‘So sorry, I didn’t see you there. Can I help you with your things?’”

I didn’t catch all of it, but, maybe, if I did the last thing, she’d move out of my way? And I could get food, drink a gallon of water, take a shower? I stunk to hell and back.

Help her with her stuff. I set my backpack down and knelt at her feet. I tried not to think about those short running shorts or how good it’d feel to slide my fingers over the curve of her calf, up to her hip. I shoved her shit into her bag and tossed it to her. I retrieved her phone from the tile floor.

“That’s, um. Yeah. Thanks.” She pulled the device from my grip.

I pushed my sweat-soaked hair from my forehead. “You’re OK?”

“Yeah.” She pulled the bag over her shoulder. “Got bowled over by a human freight train, but lived to tell the tale. I pity any catcher that tries to get in your way.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile.

So many words. No wonder she had to write them all down. “But you’re fine?”

“What, do you need me to sign a waiver?”

Red hazed into my vision. “I’d say yes, but reporters are lying snakes in the grass. Wouldn’t matter.”

“I . . .” Her jaw worked, but no sound came out.

An errant thought about her mouth working flit through my brain.

“But, I–We’re on the same team, Coop.” She pointed at her jersey as if that was “proof”. It sure as hell wasn’t.

“We’re not.” I hefted my backpack onto my shoulder. “But you were right about one thing.”

“What do you mean?”

I leaned down and stared at her head on. She turned a deep dark pink.

“To pity the person who tries to get in my way.”

Author Bio:

J. Rose Black weaves stories about obsession, redemption, and the transcendental power of love. From her early days writing fanfiction for a passionate following of international readers, to crafting novels with her own characters, Rose has always been drawn to broody protectors and plucky, no-nonsense women ready to fight for what they believe in.

When Rose isn’t deeply immersed in her latest manuscript, she’s working in cyber security and thwarting the next generation of internet bad guys. Out of the office, she’s #Shipping with friends over her favorite, swoon-worthy couples, heading to the gym to battle the great evil that is Unmovable Baby Weight, or complaining about her husband’s addiction to 3D printing. Also: nagging her children to eat something other than cheese.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter / Twitter


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Tuesday, January 7, 2025

I Love That Girl - New Adult Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #NewAdult #NA #NewAdultRomance #Giveaway

Hannah R. Goodman is here to tell us about her New Adult romance I Love That Girl.

There's also a great giveaway.

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I Love That Girl
Hannah R. Goodman
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication date: January 1st 2025
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Once called the four-headed monster in high school, only to be decapitated by the disaster of coupling up, four childhood friends have healed their wounds and found their way back to each other in college—or so they thought.

Now, months before they enter the “real” world, decapitation once again is imminent by way of: a rejected proposal, a birth control fail, an almost ménage a quartet, and a secret (and-thought-to-be-impossible) hook-up. Everything explodes over the course of a Christmas vacation in Florida, leaving the survival of these four friendships, once again, on the brink.



Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks

EXCERPT:

We locked eyes for a moment, the dim light and dark shadows between us. Her wavy sunset-blonde hair was in a messy bun, with tendrils falling around her face. I wanted to let her hair down, scoop it up with my fingers, inhale the flowery scent of her shampoo. I didn’t move a single part of me except my eyes, which traced the dotting of piercings up her left ear and then roamed across to her smallish nose that had just a blush of light freckles that matched her hair and down to her button-shaped mouth.

“Okay,” she said, her shoulder sliding out from the old sweatshirt that she cut the hood off of. I wanted to kiss her shoulder so badly, I had to put my hand over

my mouth and pretend to cough.

The blackout made the moment dreamy. I reached over and pulled her shirt up to cover her shoulder, and when my fingers made contact with her soft skin, her expression changed, softened, and relaxed. She smiled.

“I’ll get the wine.” She popped up, slid her feet into her fuzzy slippers, walked over to the kitchen area, and snatched the almost full bottle. Then she said, “Do you have a set of cards? We can play Bullshit. Remember how much we used to love that game?”

I laughed and said, “I think it was the only drinking game we knew in high school.”

“I’m pretty sure we were the only people who actually found a way to make it a drinking game.”

In the darkness, her hair piled up, she looked like a princess but also like an angel, and while I couldn’t find those words in the moment, that’s what I saw. A princess-angel with a pretty but foul mouth. The combination was exhilarating.

Author Bio:

Psychotherapist by day and writer by night, Hannah R. Goodman prefers tea over coffee, cats over dogs, and staying in over going out. Hannah is a graduate of the Solstice Program where she earned an MFA in Writing For Young People.In 2018, Black Rose Writing published her contemporary YA novel Till It Stops Beating, which was praised by reviewers for its realistic and hilarious depiction of first love, first loss, and first mental break down. Her publishing history goes back almost 20 years when she published My Sister’s Wedding, which won first place in the 2004 Writer’s Digest Self Published Books awards Children’s/Teen Division. The Wild Rose Press will publish her New Adult novel I Love That Girl on January 1, 2025.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Substack / Instagram / X / Amazon / Blue Sky


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