Title: Finding the Magician
Author: Belle Brooks
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 12, 2016
“Sometimes in death, a life is ensured.”
HOSTED BY:
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
🔥🔥 Cover Reveal: Finding the Magician by Belle Brooks 🔥🔥
HOSTED BY:
🏈 Hail Mary Blog Tour 🏈
At a boxing gym in Chicago, Mary Monahan accidentally knocks out the most handsome man she’s ever met. After she wakes him up with a few slaps and some smelling salts, the very first thing he does is ask her out for ribs and beer. His name is Jimmy. He looks like a Gillette model. And he’s just too hunky to resist.
Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.
Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.
But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”
In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.
Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.
And throws their lives into total chaos.
***
To the reader: Contents includes love, sweetness, naughtiness, honey, champagne, and an HEA. Safe.
Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.
Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.
But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”
In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.
Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.
And throws their lives into total chaos.
***
To the reader: Contents includes love, sweetness, naughtiness, honey, champagne, and an HEA. Safe.
With her hand in mine, I hail a cab on Fullerton. She isn’t saying much, and I like that. I like talking to her, getting dirty, watching her lose her words. Because I’ll tell you what, I’m planning on her losing a shitload more than that before I’m done with her. Losing everything to me. That’s the fucking plan.
The cabbie pulls off to the other side of the road a little way up from us and puts on his hazards to tell us he’s waiting. As we head for the crosswalk, I kick aside a drift from one of the plows, but it’s unsteady footing, icy and slick. As she begins to slip, her grip on my hand tightens.
“That’s enough of that,” I tell her, and scoop her up into my arms, newlywed-style.
She squeals and hangs on tight. She fits fucking perfectly in my arms, and I love the way she feels tight against me. Her fingers slip past my collar, and her fingernails dig gently into the back of my neck. “I can walk,” she says, mostly to my mouth. Then she raises her eyes. “It was just slippery.”
I don’t answer right away. I don’t want to come on too strong. I don’t want to scare her, but I don’t want there to be any fucking mistake at all about what I want or how I plan to get it. “I know you can. I’m sure you can do pretty much everything.”
Her eyes glisten, and I hoist her up a little higher in my arms. The walk signal starts flashing its hand as we get to the other curb. “I’m no shrinking violet.”
“Good. Because I’m going to need you to come strong for me tonight.”
Her body reacts before her face does, her back arching under my hand, that bend so delicate under my palm.
“Multiple times. Loudly.”
She presses her face to my chest and moans out what sounds like, “Who are you?”
“And you’re going to tell me what you like and how you like it. We’re not going to fuck around. Communication, pussycat. That’s the key.”
There go her words again. I’m getting to know that glaze in her eye, disoriented with desire. “And what about you?”
Now we’re even with the cab, but I’ve still got some things she needs to know. “I don’t come until you do. At least twice.”
She’s got no answer for that, so I bring her chin up toward me, stretching her pretty neck out with my thumb on her jaw. “You hear me?”
She nods. She breathes. She blinks.
“That’s how it’s going to go.”
“I think I can handle that.”
I laugh, sending a plume of steam out of my nose. This girl has no idea how badly I want her. How badly I need her. How fucking hard I am already to get inside her. “Yeah? You think so? You think you can handle me?”
Her eyes widen a little. “I think so,” she whispers.
Then I let her slip from my arms, such a fucking shame, but I’m not about to let her open her own door. As she gets into the cab—on the street side, the safe side—I say into her ear, “We’ll just see about that.”
The cabbie pulls off to the other side of the road a little way up from us and puts on his hazards to tell us he’s waiting. As we head for the crosswalk, I kick aside a drift from one of the plows, but it’s unsteady footing, icy and slick. As she begins to slip, her grip on my hand tightens.
“That’s enough of that,” I tell her, and scoop her up into my arms, newlywed-style.
She squeals and hangs on tight. She fits fucking perfectly in my arms, and I love the way she feels tight against me. Her fingers slip past my collar, and her fingernails dig gently into the back of my neck. “I can walk,” she says, mostly to my mouth. Then she raises her eyes. “It was just slippery.”
I don’t answer right away. I don’t want to come on too strong. I don’t want to scare her, but I don’t want there to be any fucking mistake at all about what I want or how I plan to get it. “I know you can. I’m sure you can do pretty much everything.”
Her eyes glisten, and I hoist her up a little higher in my arms. The walk signal starts flashing its hand as we get to the other curb. “I’m no shrinking violet.”
“Good. Because I’m going to need you to come strong for me tonight.”
Her body reacts before her face does, her back arching under my hand, that bend so delicate under my palm.
“Multiple times. Loudly.”
She presses her face to my chest and moans out what sounds like, “Who are you?”
“And you’re going to tell me what you like and how you like it. We’re not going to fuck around. Communication, pussycat. That’s the key.”
There go her words again. I’m getting to know that glaze in her eye, disoriented with desire. “And what about you?”
Now we’re even with the cab, but I’ve still got some things she needs to know. “I don’t come until you do. At least twice.”
She’s got no answer for that, so I bring her chin up toward me, stretching her pretty neck out with my thumb on her jaw. “You hear me?”
She nods. She breathes. She blinks.
“That’s how it’s going to go.”
“I think I can handle that.”
I laugh, sending a plume of steam out of my nose. This girl has no idea how badly I want her. How badly I need her. How fucking hard I am already to get inside her. “Yeah? You think so? You think you can handle me?”
Her eyes widen a little. “I think so,” she whispers.
Then I let her slip from my arms, such a fucking shame, but I’m not about to let her open her own door. As she gets into the cab—on the street side, the safe side—I say into her ear, “We’ll just see about that.”
A signed copy of Hail Mary and a $50 Sephora Gift Card
Open US only
Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
Author Links
♫ 🎸 We All Fall Down Blog Tour ♫ 🎸
Being married to a rock star isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Kate and Billy McDonald have defied the odds. For twenty-four years they have loved each other fiercely, and it hasn’t always been easy.
On the road more than he’s home, bouncing from band to band, and fighting for a foothold in the music industry against the machinations of his former agent, Billy has struggled to make a name for himself. Frustrated and angry, he turns to drugs and alcohol to cope. Combined with the guilt of secrets he’s kept from Kate and a temper that flares like the strike of a match, he’s a ticking time bomb.
Amazed at how far they’ve come from their rough beginnings, Kate cherishes her life. Sure, there are things she’d change, like having Billy home more, having a better relationship with her daughter, and being able to do something really worthwhile. When a startling betrayal follows on the heels of an unbearable loss, Kate’s world spirals out of control, leaving her staggering and wondering if it’s even possible to pick up the pieces.
What happens when love implodes? Can we rise from the ashes, or will we all fall down?
We All Fall Down is the second book in the Of Love and Madness trilogy. A love story that unfolds over twenty-five years, it’s the tale of two damaged people trying to make their way in the world without destroying themselves or each other in the process.
ONE
Billy cursed under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” his agent, C.J., asked. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“It is,” he whispered into the phone. “It’s just . . . the timing isn’t good. Katie’s—”
“Look, Billy, it’s only three weeks, but it’s a big three weeks. The new songs are great, but we gotta road test them. You keep this up and I can guarantee you a record deal, but I have to get you out there. People need to hear you. There was a lot of buzz after that performance in Miami this summer, and to tell the truth, the arrest and all the rest of it didn’t hurt that angry rock star image, either. There’s no bad publicity, not for someone like you, but fans have short memories.”
“I know,” he agreed, “and God knows I need the money—”
“Look, it’s just three weeks. She can’t be without you for three freaking weeks?”
Could she? She was getting worse, there was no doubt about it. But if she started seeing the doctor, and if he could talk her into staying with Rhiannon . . .
“I don’t know. I guess. I’ll figure something out.”
C.J. was all business. “Okay, then. I’ll have a car pick you up first thing Monday to bring you straight to the airport. I’ll meet you there, and we’ll sign the contracts. Just leave everything to me.”
“Fine.”
“And Billy? I had to pull a lot of strings to get you on this leg of the tour. This is the perfect audience for you. Don’t screw this up. You’re not a cat. You don’t have nine lives, and even if you did, you’ve about run out.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’ll see you Monday.”
“That’s what I want to hear.”
TWO
A door clanged open. Tom stood and walked toward the hallway, then nodded in her direction. She tucked her clutch under her arm and followed.
Billy’s back was to her as she came around the corner. Snug black jeans hugged his long legs. A long-sleeved black shirt with the tails out and the cuffs turned up showed off the tattoos covering his forearms. His hair was messy and loose, hanging well past his shoulders. He and Tommy were speaking, and when Tommy glanced in her direction, Billy turned slowly, then snapped back to Tommy when he realized who was standing behind him.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he practically growled. “I didn’t tell you to call her.”
“He didn’t call me,” she answered, hurt as well as angry. “And is that all you have to say?”
The man standing before her was a far cry from the one she’d kissed goodbye over two months ago. His neatly trimmed goatee had grown out into a scraggly beard. He needed a shower badly, and although it was the middle of the night, he wore sunglasses. A long, thin cut above his eyebrow was held together with several Steri-Strips. Another near the bridge of his nose had begun to swell. An angry red mark blossomed on his cheek, and there were hints that his eye would soon be black and blue.
“If I wanted you here, I would’ve called you. You shouldn’t be here.” He scowled at Tommy as if he were the reason behind all of them being there.
Kate slipped off the sergeant’s jacket. “Neither should you.” She tapped on the thick glass to get the desk officer’s attention, then waited by the inner door until she came around to retrieve the jacket.
Billy watched as she walked back, his mouth curling into that trademark smile, the one that still caused her to melt like a teenager.
Not this time. This time, she was pissed.
“Well, I see you came dressed to impress.” His grin grew, and the cut on his bottom lip split open, blood welling in the spot. A memory flashed before her of a night long ago when she hadn’t been nearly as angry as she was now, yet she had punched him in the stomach.
Tempting.
Karen Cimms is a writer, editor, and music lover. She was born and raised in New Jersey and still thinks of the Garden State as home. She began her career at an early age rewriting the endings to her favorite books. It was a mostly unsuccessful endeavor, but she likes to think she invented fanfiction.
Karen is a lifelong Jersey corn enthusiast, and is obsessed with (in no particular order) books, shoes, dishes, and Brad Pitt. In her spare time she likes to quilt, decorate, and entertain. Just kidding–she has no spare time.
Although she loves pigeons, she is terrified of pet birds, scary movies and Mr. Peanut.
Karen is married to her favorite lead guitar player. Her children enjoy tormenting her with countless mean-spirited pranks because they love her, or so they say. She currently lives in Northeast Pennsylvania, although her heart is usually in Maine.
Twitter: @KCimms
At This Moment (Of Love and Madness: Volume One)
Amazon ~ FREE in Kindle Unlimited
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)