Monday, July 22, 2019

My Brother’s Billionaire Best Friend, available now! Blog Tour and Review!

MBBBF - BT banner

One minute, I’m a woman trying to find her way in the world, and the next, I’m the sender of six of the most embarrassing text messages that have ever been sent in the history of time—or the cell phone.

Whatever.

My Brother’s Billionaire Best Friend, a hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe, is available now!

MBBBF_Cover 

Mabel “Maybe” Willis died a virgin at the very young age of twenty-four.
She leaves behind her parents, Betty and Bruce, her brother, Evan, a laptop filled with one too many Jason Momoa memes, and a Kindle library with more books than one human being could ever finish in a lifetime.
Cause of death: a text message.

Okay. So, I didn’t die.
But I may as well have.
One minute, I’m a woman trying to find her way in the world, and the next, I’m the sender of six of the most embarrassing text messages that have ever been sent in the history of time—or the cell phone. Whatever.
We’re talking code red, send a flipping mayday, the apocalypse is coming kind of texts.
And I didn’t just send them to some random person I’ll never see again.
No. That would be too easy.
I sent them to Milo Ives.
The man who played a starring role in all of my teenage fantasies—and my brother’s lifelong best friend.
And, boy oh boy, has he grown up.
He’s hard-bodied, blue-eyed, jawline-of-stone handsome, crazy successful, and has more money in his bank account than my brain can fathom.
Deflower me, please? I said.
Yeah. Send help.
MBBBF - AN 12.09.21 PM.jpg
Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/317HY3w

Excerpt:
Maybe Here I rest, you guys. I. Mother-flapjacking P. to me. And now, I’m coming to you live from what I believe is the afterlife. Just think of this as that morning show with Kelly Ripa and Ryan Seacrest, Live with Kelly and Ryan. Only, change the name to DEAD with Maybe, take away the celebrity guests, and fill the audience with people who don’t mind witnessing a full-on embarrassment-fueled emotional breakdown.

 Good God, if I would’ve known I was going to kick the bucket right before I reached twenty-five, I sure as shit wouldn’t have spent the last six years of my life slaving away at Stanford for a bachelor’s and master’s degree in English Lit.

  I would’ve partied in college rather than studying until my eyeballs bled. I would’ve danced on bars. Flashed some nip for beads at Mardi Gras. Actually gone to Mardi Gras. I would have indulged in unlimited pasta night at the Olive Garden instead of counting carbs, and I wouldn’t have stopped binge-watching Game of Thrones on season flipping six. I would have tongue-kissed loads of guys and spread my legs like a contortionist for any of them who seemed reasonably adept. You know, a little bam-bam in my ham-ham. Some not-too-big, but not-too-small P in my V. A good old-fashioned pants-off dance-off…  

Sex, you guys. I’m talking about sex

And if you haven’t picked up what I’m putting down from my delirious ramble, I’ll lay it out for you. I’ve yet to be sexed up by anyone. That’s right. I have officially bought myself a one-way ticket to the afterlife as a virgin for-freaking-eternity.

 And now, I guess I’ll never know how it feels to have an actual penis rub up against my G-spot because, you know, I’m dead. And I’m pretty certain God probably frowns upon people flashing their boobs at the angels and public displays of leg-spreading and definitely the unchaste actions of a desperate-to-bone but unwed woman. 
No way. 
Heaven’s strictly G-rated.  

I put it all off. I figured I had time. I mean, I thought I’d at least get to see The Office do a reunion special before I went lights out for good. Although, my parents’ flower shop feels more like purgatory than heaven, and I thought for sure I’d be wearing something other than jean shorts and Converse when I headed to meet the Big Guy upstairs.  

Honestly, the afterlife feels eerily like real life, and I’m not one to be dramatic, but I have to be dead, you guys. Seriously. Because no one could live through what I did. I’m talking a 10.0 on the Richter Scale of embarrassing and awkward. A Category 5 hurricane of humiliation. A twisting, catastrophic EF5 tornado of comedic disaster. No freaking way I survived that…right? Okay. Fine. So, I can be a little dramatic sometimes… And maybe, just maybe, I’m exaggerating things a bit here, but I’m doing it in the name of self-preservation. Because, trust me, if you did what I did, you’d let yourself mentally pretend to be dead for a little bit too.  

Because if I’m not dead, I’m going to have to face the consequences of my awful, humiliating, cringeworthy actions. I’m going to have to face him. Milo Ives—a tall, handsome, unbelievably sexy drink of water. A man I’ve known since I was a prepubescent girl.  

A man I’ve basically been crushing on my whole damn life. A billion-dollar-empire kind of successful man who just so happens to be my brother’s best friend. I’ll say it again for the folks in the back. Milo Ives is my brother’s billionaire best friend.  
And I’m in way over my head.



My Review: 
The second book in this new "billionaire" series is better than the first!

Maybe (Mabel) has moved back to NYC after finishing her master's degree in "books." While she's waiting for her first real job in the publishing world, she's filling in at her parent's floral shop. When her brother Evan's bff and her teenage crush Milo comes walking in the store, she's tongue tied...and he doesn't recognize her.

Fast forward to Evan asking for help breaking in the filed, Milo makes a few contacts. Throw in Maybe sending ridiculously hilarious text messages while hopped up after having her wisdom tooth removed, and the two start a series of text messages that turn more than friendly.

As with other Max Monroe books, this is full of fun, flirty humor and side characters that are integral to the story, and hilarious on their own. Fans of their series will not be disappointed by the story, or the appearance of our favorite fluffing character from the original billionaire series!  



About Max Monroe:
A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.
Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.

Connect with Max Monroe:
Stay up to date with Max Monroe by joining their mailing list today: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/newsletter

Thursday, July 18, 2019

My Brother’s Billionaire Best Friend, a hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe, is available now!

MBBBF - RB banner
One minute, I’m a woman trying to find her way in the world, and the next, I’m the sender of six of the most embarrassing text messages that have ever been sent in the history of time—or the cell phone.
Whatever.

My Brother’s Billionaire Best Friend, a hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe, is available now!
MBBBF_Cover
Mabel “Maybe” Willis died a virgin at the very young age of twenty-four.
She leaves behind her parents, Betty and Bruce, her brother, Evan, a laptop filled with one too many Jason Momoa memes, and a Kindle library with more books than one human being could ever finish in a lifetime.
Cause of death: a text message.

Okay. So, I didn’t die.
But I may as well have.
One minute, I’m a woman trying to find her way in the world, and the next, I’m the sender of six of the most embarrassing text messages that have ever been sent in the history of time—or the cell phone. Whatever.
We’re talking code red, send a flipping mayday, the apocalypse is coming kind of texts.
And I didn’t just send them to some random person I’ll never see again.
No. That would be too easy.
I sent them to Milo Ives.
The man who played a starring role in all of my teenage fantasies—and my brother’s lifelong best friend.
And, boy oh boy, has he grown up.
He’s hard-bodied, blue-eyed, jawline-of-stone handsome, crazy successful, and has more money in his bank account than my brain can fathom.
Deflower me, please? I said.
Yeah. Send help.


Download your copy today for only 99 CENTS or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/317HY3w
MBBBF - AN
Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/317HY3w

About Max Monroe:

A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.
Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.

Connect with Max Monroe:

Stay up to date with Max Monroe by joining their mailing list today: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/newsletter

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

Making Up by Helena Hunting is now available!!


MAKING UP, an all-new laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting, is now available!



Synopsis:
A new standalone, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy by New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting.

Cosy Felton is great at her job—she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. So when the hottest guy she’s ever seen walks into the shop looking completely overwhelmed, she’s more than happy to turn on the charm and help him purchase all of the items on his list.

Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City. The last thing he wants is to be put in charge of buying gag gifts for his friend’s bachelor party. Despite being totally out of his element, and mortified by the whole experience, Griffin is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself attracted to the sales girl that helped him.

As skeptical as Cosy may be of Griffin’s motivations, there’s something about him that intrigues her. But sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas and when real life gets in the way, all bets are off. Filled with hilariously awkward situations and enough sexual chemistry to power Sin City, Making Up is the next standalone in the Shacking Up world.

Purchase your copy at:
https://read.macmillan.com/lp/making-up/




My Review
"A guy walks into a sex shop...."

What sounds like a start to a joke, kinda is. Griffin draws the short straw and has to purchase gifts for a bachelor party. Cosy, who works there while trying to get through college, knows how to handle her customers with humor. She also has a rule of never dating customers. When Griffin comes back to the store looking for a date, she reluctantly agrees to one.

Cosy is an independent woman, but she is new to the field of relationships. Griffin has a whole lot baggage that gets in the way. These two suffer several setbacks before finding their way.
This was a really fun book, and as usual with Helena Hunting, there's a ton of hilarious dialogue while the characters find their way together.

OH, and the -ahole cousin from Hooking Up makes a brief surprise appearance! That's a scene you don't want to miss. :)

Read an exerpt now!

    We’re a couple of minutes away from my apartment, which also means we’re almost at the end of our date. End-of-date protocol often means a goodnight kiss.
    And I’ve eaten onions. Lots of them. What the hell was I thinking? I feel around in my shorts pocket, hoping I have a random stick of gum. I find a tiny square packet and pull it out, along with an old tissue. I shove that back in my pocket and sigh with relief as I carefully open the Listerine Pocketpak. There’s one strip left. I pop it in my mouth, wishing I had water since my mouth is dry and I’m suddenly super nervous.
    Griffin pulls up in front of my apartment building. I swallow a bunch of times, trying to get the strip to dissolve on my tongue and glance out the tinted window, seeing it from his perspective. I don’t live in a bad part of town, but I sure as hell wouldn’t leave this car sitting out here for any length of time unless I wanted it keyed or stripped down.
    Griffin shifts into park and turns to me, one hand resting on the back of my seat near the headrest. “I had a great time, Cosy.”
    “Me too, thanks for dinner.” I tried to fork over my share, but he was quick on the credit card draw.
    “It was my pleasure.” He leans in the tiniest bit, a nonverbal cue that he’s going in for a kiss.
    I mirror the movement, giving him the go ahead. My stomach flutters in anticipation. I exhale slowly through my nose. Even though the Listerine strip should be doing its job to mask the onions, I don’t want to ruin the moment by breathing that in his face.
    His fingertips skim my jaw, and I close my eyes. And then his lips brush my cheek. I wait for them to move a couple of inches to the right, but after what feels like a lot of seconds—and is probably only a few—I crack a lid.
    Griffin is still close, a wry smile on his lips and a smolder in his eyes.
    “Seriously, that’s it? A kiss on the cheek?”
    His smile widens, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He’s nothing like the guys I usually end up on dates with. College boys don’t take things slow. If I were out with one of the guys from school, I’d be sitting in a beat-up Civic with some stupid music playing, and he’d be all over me with his tongue halfway down my throat, copping a feel.
    “I thought all the onions you ate were the equivalent to garlic for vampires.” Griffin fingers my hair near my shoulder. I’d really like him to finger something else. Wait. I mean I’d like to feel his hands on me. Not in my pants. Okay, maybe I’d like them in my pants, but not after date number one.
    “I wasn’t thinking, and I really like onions. A lot. In hindsight, it’s not a great date food. I feel kinda dumb. And I guess at first I wasn’t so sure about you. How was I supposed to know you’d actually be kind of normalish?”
    “Normalish?”
    “Well, you drink club soda on purpose, so you can’t be all there.” I tap his temple.
    Griffin circles my wrist with his fingers and drops his head, lips brushing over my knuckle. “We can’t all be perfect, now, can we?”
    “I suppose not, and perfect is boring.”
    “That it is.” He hums against my skin, and I feel it through my entire body.     
    “I would like to try that kiss again, if you’re still interested.”
 



Author Bio:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.