blog tour

✍🏻 Have you met Will and Mel yet? A freshman virgin hero and an experienced intelligent senior heroine? Grab Andi Burns’s Scoring Chance, book 1 of the Bainbridge Hockey series. ✍🏻

When our date ends in disaster, the last thing I expect is for Will to ask me for a favor. 

And what I really don’t expect is to say yes.

Scoring Chance, an all new stand alone hockey romance with a feisty heroine and a virgin hero from bestselling author Andi Burns is available now!


Freshman year is going to be my year. 

I’m no longer the ugly duckling I used to be. Thanks to a late growth spurt and a nasty puck to the face that knocked my buck teeth right out of my head, I no longer resemble the awkward kid I once was. 

As Bainbridge Hockey’s newest center, I’m gonna enjoy every bit of attention the ladies of Bainbridge want to give me. 

But I soon find out that looking the part is only half the battle. And if I want to lose my virginity before I make it to the big leagues, I’m going to need to learn the fine art of dating. Or at least how to kiss without being compared to a dying jellyfish. So that means I need help. 

But they don’t make tutors for dating. Do they?


Senior year is off to a rough start. 

One of my best friends has moved on to grad school, and my other best friend spends all her free time with her boyfriend. 

And my boyfriend? Oh, he’s a lying, cheating jerk. I learned that the hard way when I caught him in bed with his wife.

Looking back, it’s clear that my ex lied about everything and I wasted almost a year of my life with him. Dating a professor wasn’t my smartest move, but I’m wiser now, and I’ve made a promise to myself: no more relationships. 

So when my friends surprise me at the charity bachelor auction and buy me a date with a hot young hockey player, I’m less than thrilled. I mean, he’s nice to look at, but I’m not in the market for anything more than a hookup. 

When our date ends in disaster, the last thing I expect is for Will to ask me for a favor. And what I really don’t expect is to say yes.

Start reading today!


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“Are you listening to a word I say?”  

I get my answer when Cammie starts clapping her hands together. “Oh my God, Mel. Who’s the tall guy?”

I don’t bother looking up from the counter I’m wiping down. “What do you mean, who’s the tall guy? They’re all tall. But the tallest one is Santos.” 

“This guy’s almost as tall. And he’s new. I’d definitely remember seeing him around. Holy crap, he’s beautiful.” 

I look up to see who the hell has Cammie so smitten and I spot our topic of conversation right away. Holy. Shit. She wasn’t kidding. This guy’s like a walking advertisement for sex. Yeah, Van’s known around campus as the hot one, and Ollie’s never short on admirers, but this guy’s on a whole different level. His broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist. His butt is a work of art. Soft, faded jeans hug his ass and thighs and dear god, I want to take a bite. What the hell is wrong with me? New Hot Guy looks up and I get a glimpse of his face. It does not disappoint. He’s got a strong jaw covered in a day’s worth of stubble. His nose is crooked–the sign of a good hockey player–and his eyes are a piercing blue, so dark they’re almost navy. His hair is cut short, but the top’s a little overgrown, the dark chocolate strands falling into his line of vision. It’s the lips for me, though. God, they’re unreal. Pouty and perfect and totally kissable.

“Uh, what the hell? I mean, I’m not complaining–trust me–but what the hell?”

“I know– I probably shouldn’t have kissed you like that, but I had a good reason.” 

He leans back against the wall and shrugs. “It’s the dimple, right?” he jokes, smiling. 

“It’s a hell of a dimple,”

Learn more about Andi Burns and her releases by visiting her website:

blog tour

✍🏻 Have you grabbed L.J. Shen and Parker S. Huntington’s My Dark Romeo? I GOBBLED this story. ✍🏻

My fairy tale turned into a cautionary one.

Inked in tar and sealed in tears.

My Dark Romeo, an all-new marriage of inconvenience, enemies to lovers, standalone romance from Wall Street Journal bestselling authors L.J. Shen and Parker S. Huntington is available now!

From Wall Street Journal bestsellers L.J. Shen and Parker S. Huntington comes an explosive marriage of inconvenience…between a tarnished Romeo and a reluctant Juliet.

It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball.

A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger.

But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love.

He’s fueled by revenge.

To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage.

His rival’s betrothed.

To me, he is a man deserving of poison.

A dark prince I refuse to marry.

He thinks I’ll accept my fate.

Well, I plan to rewrite it.

And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die.

But Romeo? He perishes.

Start reading today!


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I hadn’t come here to find a husband. 

Before my birth, Daddy had already promised me to someone, which the diamond ring on my engagement finger reminded me. 

This always seemed like a problem for the future—up until I discovered the official announcement on the society pages two days ago. “I hear Romeo is dead-set on becoming the CEO of his daddy’s company.” Lord, Sav was still droning on about him. Were they planning on penning the man’s Wikipedia? “Already, he’s a billionaire.”

“Not just a billionaire. A mega billionaire.” Emilie fingered a marquise diamond on her Broderie bracelet, her poker tell. “And he’s not the type to blow it all on yachts and gold toilet seats or funding self-indulged pet projects.”

Sav snuck a desperate glance at them through her compact mirror. “Do you think we can be introduced?”

Emilie’s eyebrows pinched together. “Nobody here knows them. Dal? Dallas? Are you even listening to the conversation? This is important.”

The only grave situation I’d witnessed was the lack of shortbread, too. 

Reluctantly, I fixed my eyes on the two men that parted the thick crowd of silk chiffon and frozen updos. 

They both stood at least six-three. A towering height that made them look like giants trying to squeeze into doll houses. 

Then again, nothing about them was conventional. 

Their similarities ended with their height. Everything else was arctic opposites.

One was silk and the other leather. 

If I had to guess, the live-action Ken clone was von Bismarck. Dirty-blond, square-jawed, and adorned with shabby whiskers of stubble, he looked like something only a Walt Disney illustrator could sketch. 

The perfect European prince, down to the scandalous blue eyes and Roman-like structure. 


The other man was a polished savage. Menace decanted into a Kiton suit. 

He wore his inky hair in a gentleman’s cut, trimmed into submission. Everything about him seemed carefully crafted. Intentionally designed to deliver lethal doses straight into a woman’s bloodstream. Sharp cheekbones, thick brows, lashes I’d risk jail time for, and the frostiest gray eyes I’d seen to date. In fact, his eyes were so light and frosty, I decided they had no business coupling with his otherwise tan Italian features.


“Romeo Costa.” Savannah’s voice curled with longing as he breezed right past us, heading toward the table reserved for VIPs. “I would let him ruin me as thoroughly and impressively as Elon Musk destroyed Twitter.”

For more information on L.J. Shen’s books visit her website:

For more information on Parker S. Huntington’s books visit her website:

blog tour

✍🏻 CD Reiss’s Fake Crowne has been out for three days, and I want more people to read it so we can talk about it. Want a little nibble of it? Read an excerpt below. ✍🏻

Fake Crowne, an all-new fake-relationship, billionaire romance standalone from New York Times bestselling author CD Reiss is available now! 

How can I let him destroy everything he’s worked for just to make me happy?

I’m a singer with stage fright who’s famous for…well…nothing yet. And I promised my family if I didn’t make it big by the end of this year, I’d go back to med school.

My agent thinks Colton and I would be a great team both in the studio, and outside of it—especially if label executives think we’re dating.

The rules? We can kiss in public, but not in private.

We can act like we’re doing the deed, as long as we’re not.

And as far as having actual feelings for each other goes…that’s obviously out of the question.

But after so many late nights in the studio and a bunch of stolen kisses, I start to see beyond his party boy facade to something real underneath. And he believes in me–with his coaching and encouragement, I’m finally overcoming my anxiety and giving the best performances of my life.

If only time wasn’t running out so fast.

Then Colton has an idea to keep us together. It’s terrible, but it’s the only way.

How can I let him destroy everything he’s worked for just to make me happy?

Start reading today!


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I watch him move into the shadows. The lights that line the edge of the walk go on as he passes. My phone buzzes, so I check it before driving off. It’s Liam.

 —look what showed up on DMZ—

A photo slides in. It’s screenshot from DMZ and a link. A picture of Colton pushing me against my car and me grabbing his jacket. Everything else is cut out. Liam. Gene. It’s shot from a little above, through a windshield.

 The headline under it reads: HAS COLTON CROWNED THE NEXT TAMIKA? 

What? I tap the link. The article is short and breathless. Colton Crowne, who “discovered” Tamika in Memphis and who was “viciously” cut from credit or royalties by Gavin McCormick, may be nursing the next baby star into the sky. 

They don’t even know I’m a musician. 

I could be a lawyer or an accountant. 

But that wouldn’t get clicks. No one cares about that story. 

Liam follows with a text. 

—You guys—

Colton is on the chat. I look at the driveway. The path lights have gone dark, but I can see him standing there, looking down with the screen glowing on his face. 

“Fuck!” he barks, moving enough to turn on the lights. 

That’s when I know he’s seen Liam’s messages. He looks at me and, seeing I haven’t moved, jogs over while his brother’s texts ding.

 —This is gold-plated—

—A gift from the gods—

—We’re on second base before we even get to the plate—

Colton stops. Types into his phone. 

—What are you talking about?—

—You guys together in public coronates Skye—

This feels more real than when Liam mentioned it before.

I don’t have long to do something…anything…or I have to fulfill my promise to my mother and take up last year’s deferment to University of Michigan Medical School. Being coronated, as Liam calls it, makes that possible. Without an electric shock to the process, I don’t have a chance. I’m dead in the water. Pursuing a music career and med school at the same time isn’t possible without a clone. 

But I want clarity, so I text the chat. 

—You mean you really want us to pretend we’re fucking?—

I hit Send before I rethink the word fucking to describe what I’m not doing with Colton, who answers from halfway back to the car. 

—That’s what he means—

He could have told me that himself. Instead he stands there as Liam’s message comes in. 

—That’s what I mean—

I’m about to text that I’m in. I’ll do it. I’m thrilled actually. But it’s not just about me, so I wait for Colton to come to me. I open the passenger window. He doesn’t come. Instead, he sends a message. 

—You know Gene took this right? From the angle?—

I look back at the photo. Yeah. It was taken from the SUV before Gene got out. Maybe he took it to get evidence in case he’d hit anyone or maybe he was thinking that fast. That’s secondary to the fact that it found its way to a gossip website. 

A notification drops over the picture. A text from Colton. 

—So, no. Fuck him. No—

Once that comes in, I look at him as he puts the phone in his pocket and starts back my way. 

I want to be coronated. I want it to be easy. I need the boost to start before the walls close in. 

They’ve been closing in for months. Ever since last year when I applied. Before that, when I took the MCAT without studying. I thought I was so clever, setting myself up for failure. I wasn’t clever enough to get the answers wrong though. 

That’s fine. It’s fine. I’m okay with it. Screw the coronation. I can’t make Colton do something he doesn’t want to do. He has every right to refuse. But I’m still reeling from the transition between hope and regret. For a minute, I was in a world where I had a head start and I’m just as suddenly back in the status quo. 

He’s coming this way. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to hear the reasons he thinks it’s a bad idea. Not right now, because he’s probably right and I just want to sit in my disappointment alone. 

Before he reaches the car, I drive away.

Learn more about CD Reiss and her releases by visiting her website: