Title: Liar, Liar, Hearts on Fire

Series: Bro Code #3
Author: Pippa Grant
Genre: Romantic Comedy

Release Date: March 24, 2020





Blurb


Never borrow pants from your brother. Especially if he’s a
size smaller than you are, because all that pressure in the junk will
short-circuit your brain.



And you’ll lie to a woman in a club about your real name.



Leave her unsatisfied after making out in a bathroom.



Then find out that she’s the one thing standing in the way of your dreams. And
she very much doesn’t like being lied to.



Now I have to convince Lila Valentine—the woman I can’t stop thinking about, my
biggest regret, and my new boss—that I’m what’s best for the baseball team
she’s inherited.



If we can’t work together to save the Fireballs, the commissioner’s forcing a
sale and moving them across the country.



I’ll do anything to save my home team.



But the one thing I can’t do?



Keep my hands to myself.



Which would be fine, if she hadn’t been telling me lies this whole time too.



Liar, Liar, Hearts on Fire is a rocking fun romance between a single
dad obsessed with baseball, an heiress with secrets, baseball pants, a rundown
team, and rabid ducks. It stands alone and comes with a guaranteed
happily-ever-after.










Purchase Links


AMAZON US; / UK; / CA; / AU
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Free in Kindle Unlimited










Excerpt


The squawking erupts again nearby and saves me. There are no
visible chickens on the field, and it gets louder as we approach the dugout on
the first base side.
Louder and more intense.
Very intense.
Like, are there chicken police? Because we might need the
chicken police.
I drift directly behind Tripp while we approach the noise,
shameless in using him as a human shield if this is a chicken uprising. What's
that movie? The one with the apes that rebel and take over the world? That's
what this sounds like, except with feathers and clucks instead of
chest-pounding and grunts.
"Should we call security?" My self-defense classes
didn't cover protecting yourself from rabid chickens.
"That'd be a foul," he murmurs. And then chuckles
to himself, and oh my god.
"Foul—fowl? Like a bird-fowl? Did you just make
a dad joke at a time like this?"
"A time like this? You mean a random Tuesday night at a
deserted ball field?"
"At a time when the chickens are gathering for a
ritualistic sacrifice of one of their own."
His shoulders shake, and he seems to be struggling to cough.
"Oh, god, did you inhale a feather? Is that how this
starts? They shed their feathers to choke us to death?"
"Please don't talk about chickens and choking in the
same sentence."
"That was not a dad joke."
"No, it was—oh. Duck."
I squat low, spinning to see what I'm ducking from.
Tripp flips his flashlight on me. I squint and cover my
head. "Stop! I can't see! What's coming?"
"Lila. Ducks. Ducks. Not chickens. It's
mating ducks."
He swings the flashlight to the dugout, and—oh.
Oh.
"Is it...supposed to be that violent?"
There are two ducks under the bench in the dugout, one
flapping its wings and chasing the other, who's squawking so loudly she could
wake the dead.
And— "Ohmygod, I did not need
to see that!"
Duck penis.
Duck penis.
Oh my god. Duck penis. Duck penis should not look
like that
.
Tripp's bent double laughing.
"Where's security?" I demand. "Hello?
Security? Security? I'll give whoever removes this duck a
ten-thousand-dollar bonus. Right now."
No one comes running for ten grand, because no one
can hear me
.
The squawking. It's a cry for help.
"It's nature," Tripp says. He's wiping his eyes
now, he's laughing so hard. "Give 'em a few. They'll finish up."
The girl duck is racing back and forth under the bench.
The boy duck is chasing her with that thing.
And I am not having it. "Shoo. Shoo!"
"Lila!" Tripp calls, but I'm already gone.
Flapping my arms. Yelling. Charging the dugout and the
ducks.
Why are they even here? There's no pond here. Winter's
coming. They should be flying to the Caribbean for Mai Tais and sunshine.
And instead, they're ruining the sanctity of my ballpark.
"Shoo!" I yell again.
I hit the stairs down to the long covered bench, and the boy
duck suddenly seems to realize I'm coming at him.
He turns, pointing that thing at me, flaps
his wings, and gets this evil glint in his eyes that means I really should've
thought about what I was doing before I came in here.
"Woo her nicely," I snap.
He squawks—no, quacks at me.
Crap.
I need to go back to kindergarten to learn my animal sounds
again. I'm a city girl. We don't do farm animals.
"And put that thing away!"
"Lila." Tripp's laughing so hard he's wheezing. He
grabs my elbow and tugs. "Let the ducks be."
"I'd let it be if he wasn't attacking her."
"Maybe that's how ducks have sex."
"Then maybe ducks shouldn't exist."
"QQQUUUUAAAACCCCCKKKKK!" the boy duck
yells.
It's like a Braveheart yell, and I realize
I'm asking the wrong question.
I shouldn't be asking why is the duck assaulting the
other duck in a dugout?
I should be asking what have humans previously done
to this duck because he's going to kill me?
It charges, wings flapping.
I scream and take off running. Tripp mutters a
well-timed, oh, fuck and runs with me. "The other
dugout," he shouts, pointing to the dugout on the third base side.
Another light flashes up in the stands.
"Security!" I yell. "Arrest the duck! Arrest
the duck!
"
It's gaining on us. Quacking louder. And it can fly. It
can fly
.
It's going to swoop over us, poop on our heads, and whack us
with that—that—that mutant penis and then scoop us up in its
talons, and—"Aaah! It got me. It got me!"
It bit me on the butt.
"Don't fuck with nature," Tripp grunts.








Also Available


AMAZON US; / UK; / CA; / AU
;

Free in Kindle Unlimited

ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO & PRINT

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AMAZON US; / UK; / CA; / AU
;

Free in Kindle Unlimited

ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO & PRINT

;








Author Bio

Pippa Grant is a USA Today
Bestselling author who writes romantic comedies that will make tears run down
your leg. When she's not reading, writing or sleeping, she's being crowned
employee of the month as a stay-at-home mom and housewife trying to prepare her
adorable demon spawn to be productive members of society, all the while
fantasizing about long walks on the beach with hot chocolate chip cookies.




Author Links

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FFD - BT banner


Five First Dates, an all-new HOT and hilarious brother’s best friend romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Erin McCarthy, is available now!


FiveFirstDates FOR WEB

Every perfect rom-com has a twist that leads the heroine to her happily ever after.

Me? Somehow, in any room full of prince charmings, I always manage to find the one frog.

So this time, I’ve found my own twist. Four of my friends will each set me up. Four first dates. Four chances at my own happily-ever-after.

My brother’s best friend even offered to watch my baby while I’m out finding true love.

Only Maddox has sure grown up since I saw him last. The guy next door now looks more like the guy on a magazine cover. He’s inked and sexy. Muscular. Utterly irresistible. And . . . big.

Surely having a brother’s-friend-with-benefits won’t hurt my search for Mr. Right.

Especially if he’s my fifth first date...

FFD - AN

Download your copy today for or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/5firstdates

Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/3bfM6Ts

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/334Q3HQ

Excerpt
I woke up with a start, sitting up in panic. There was drool in the corner of my mouth. Why was I in bed? Where was my son?

I stumbled out of bed, heart racing. 

I remembered almost immediately that Maddox had arrived and had told me to take a power nap. Right. Geez. I slowed down in the hallway, putting my hand onto my chest to take a deep breath and calm down. Sully was fine. He was with Maddox.

But when I went into the living room, they weren’t there. I realized the bathroom door was closed and the shower was running. Hold on. If Maddox was in the shower, where was Sully? Was he lying on my bathroom floor, which I had to admit, hadn’t been cleaned recently? The thought of my child rolling around on that cold, damp germ-riddled floor had me opening the bathroom door to rescue him.

Sully wasn’t on the floor. He wasn’t anywhere to be found.

My panic kicked into high gear again, and without hesitating, I ripped back the shower curtain to demand Maddox explain where the hell my child was. The words died on my tongue. Because Sully was in the shower with Maddox, looking pink and chubby and delighted, hand out in front of him to catch the water as he rested comfortably on Maddox’s hip.

Maddox’s naked hip.

Maddox, who didn’t look pink and chubby and delighted.

Maddox, who looked like a hard, sexy-as-hell, bad boy.

His head was under the water, body turned toward me so Sullivan was out of the direct line of the stream. Which meant I could see every single full-frontal inch of Maddox. He was hard. Everywhere. Muscles on muscles, decorated with tattoos over a good fifty percent of his incredible body. Incredible and firm body.

I tried not to look at everything. I really tried. But my gaze seemed to have a life of its own and took a peek at his lower body.

My mouth went dry. My cheeks hot.

That was a big cock.

Inches from me.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked, pulling me out of my dumbfounded stupor.

I yanked my gaze back to his face, mortified.

“You didn’t sleep very long,” he said when I just stared at him. He didn’t look even remotely uncomfortable with the fact that he was standing under a stream of hot water totally naked in front of me.

Finally, I pried my tongue off of the roof of my mouth. “I’m sorry, oh my God. I didn’t mean to…” I gestured to his body. “I just woke up and I didn’t know where Sully was and I freaked out. I’m not used to having help…” I trailed off, pressing my lips shut.

Maddox just gave me a grin. “Not a problem. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I should have told you I wanted a shower.”

Sully reached for me, bless his little heart. He saved me from further embarrassment.

“Grab a towel before you take him,” Maddox said. “He’s slippery.” He looked down at Sully and bounced him on his hip a little. “Aren’t you, little man?”

Now that my eyes were studiously focused above the waist, and I’d dragged my sex-deprived mind out of the gutter, I was amazed at how at ease Maddox was with my son. He’d been made to hold a baby, and as I reached for a towel, I felt a yearning for a father for Sully for the first time ever.

This was all really confusing, dangerous, and potentially disastrous.

I needed sleep and sex, clearly.

Towel in hand I got as close as was necessary to take Sully safely without touching any of Maddox’s naked body. My cheeks were hot. “Maybe I can take a shower after you,” I said. “I think I’m on day three without one.”

“You could hop in now,” he said. “There’s room.”

Maddox said it like it was totally normal. Like he wasn’t naked in front of a woman who’d never seen him naked before. Like he had seen menaked before, which he most definitely hadn’t. Like we were a couple with a baby and not old friends, if you could even really say that. It wasn’t like I knewMaddox. We’d never talked about anything real. He’d just always been around our house with Steven.

This new dynamic was bizarre for me.

“Why are you teasing me?” I asked, genuinely curious. And again, no filter. “It was always the other way around. I teased you because I was older.”

His eyebrows shot up as I took Sully from him and wrapped him fully in the towel. “Am I teasing you? Is that what I’m doing?”

“Well. Yes. Aren’t you?”

He put his head under the water and ran his hand over it. A few water drops arched out and landed on my arm. So much wet skin. Everywhere, just skin and wet. Lord, I was losing it.

“I was flirting, not teasing. There is a difference.”

That befuddled me. “Why?”

“Because you’re an attractive woman and I’m a normal guy who likes to flirt with women. Or maybe I’m just being friendly.”

I backed up, needing space. The room was warm and humid and I was having a very difficult time not looking where I shouldn’t look. “This arrangement isn’t going to work if you do that. Say suggestive things all the time.”

“Why? It’s not a big deal.” Maddox stared at me with those dark eyes. Intently. “Is it?”

What the hell was he really asking me? I had no idea. 

I was flustered and I took another step backward. “Maddy. Stop. You’re barely out of high school and I’m a mother. You’re going to be my nanny. We have to be professional. Maybe that’s not the right word, but you know what I mean. Friends who are helping each other. Platonic friends. Not flirty. You’re like a little brother to me.”

The look he gave me was smoldering. His nostrils flared. His shoulders tensed. He paused with the bottle of shampoo in his hand. “Sure,” he said, his casual voice completely at odds with the intensity of his expression. “Whatever you want, Savannah. I promise not to flirt with you.”

Then he grabbed the curtain and pulled it shut, blocking him from my view.

Good. Great. Perfect. Glad we had established boundaries. That was the way it needed to be.

I had no business behaving in any other way than as a big sister to Maddox.

So why did I feel so disappointed?

Because I didn’t look at him and see a kid brother anymore. I hadn’t known him in years and he was different now. It was terrifying.

I took my son out of the bathroom and to my bedroom to get him diapered and dressed.

Maybe it was time to start dating again. Over a year without a date or sex was clearly too long.

I was an eternal optimist. I believed in a happily ever after. I could watch romantic comedies for seventy-two hours straight. I loved love.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t very good at it personally.

My friends all told me I was too quick to overlook red flags and to give people second chances. The first was probably accurate. The second I stood by. Everyone deserves a second chance. But my bullshit meter was definitely broken.

Sully’s father had looked great on paper. A contracts lawyer. Apartment in SoHo. Wealthy parents who had given him a private school education in Manhattan. He’d said he was interested in a relationship. In leaving behind his playboy twenties and settling down into something “real” since he had turned thirty. 

Apparently, an unplanned pregnancy had been too real.

I had expected him to be shocked and not entirely thrilled with the news. I had not expected him to be livid. When I had told him I was having the baby, he’d punched a hole in the wall, terrifying me. He’d said terrible things, accused me of entrapment. 

No happily ever after.

Just me getting the hell out of there and vowing to stay the hell away from Adam. It was probably the first time I would not have given someone a second chance. Not that he’d wanted one, but my concern had shifted from my own personal feelings to concern for my unborn baby.

The maternal instinct was strong. Like the force.

I wanted no part of a father being around if he resented it.

Laying Sully on my bed, I rubbed his soft skin with the towel and felt my heart swell with love for him. He was perfection even if his sperm donor had been, well, not so great.

I hated to think of him as a dick. Even if he was one.

Moving quickly before Sully objected, I got a diaper on him and a clean onesie. Then little khakis and a blue sweater. The fact that they made khakis for six-month-old babies gave me a happiness I couldn’t even express. Could anything on the planet be cuter? 

I picked him up and gave him a belly kiss. “You look like a little man,” I cooed to him.

“He looks like a Best Buy employee,” Maddox said from the doorway. His expression was amused. 

I frowned. Maddox was standing there in his towel. “What do you think he should wear, a skull and crossbones? He’s six months old.”

“That or maybe a puppy T-shirt or something. What you have on him now is what my grandfather wears to church.”

Offended, I wanted to exit my bedroom, but he was blocking the door. “You have a lot of opinions for someone who isn’t a parent. I’m the fashion expert, remember? I can handle dressing a baby. My baby.”

He held his hands up, nearly giving me a heart attack when his towel slipped. He grabbed it before it dropped to the floor. “Sorry. I was just teasing. I would never judge you on how you parent. I just thought since we’re friends, we can be cool with each other.”

That flustered me. I had really thought this was going to be a lot easier. More comfortable. But Maddox was confusing me. “I guess that’s fair,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. “I did used to tease you a lot when you were a kid, like I said before.”

He was leaning on the doorframe, showing no signs of moving or getting dressed or even putting the towel back in place. He was just holding it in front of his junk, but his hips were exposed.

“No, you didn’t. Not really.” His voice was soft. “I took a lot of crap from other kids for being the poor kid with the hot, young mom, but you weren’t like that. You were nice to me, Savannah, and I appreciated it. More than you know.”

My shoulders relaxed. I felt a warmth for him that was more familiar territory. Maddox had been a quiet kid, Steven his primary friend. I had felt sorry for him because he’d lived over a restaurant in downtown Stroudsburg while the rest of us in our school lived in suburban houses. His mother had been a waitress, very young, a MILF before the term had existed. Guys had always been catcalling her and flirting with her and she’d been sassy, flipping them off and hurtling wisecracks back.

She’d called Maddox “Weirdo” all the time. It had seemed to be an affectionate nickname, but not one I would have enjoyed.

“How is your mom?” I asked. “And your brother and sisters?”

He finally wrapped the towel around himself fully, tucking the edge. “She’s good. She’s freaking out about turning thirty-nine, but otherwise she’s great.”

Holy cow, his mother was only thirteen years older than me? That would have made her fifteen when he was born. Having been raising Sully on my own for six months at my age, I had a whole new respect for his mother.

“The kids are all mostly normal, mostly not assholes.” There was warmth and pride in his voice. “Mike is great, too. I never thought I wanted a stepfather but he’s an alright guy. He’s the one who got me interested in ink. And motorcycles.”

His stepfather owned an auto body shop back home and he’d seemed successful, moving Maddox and his mother into a colonial before they started producing children one after the other. They were a coolfamily, with artistic children, and yes, skull and crossbones on their clothes. In comparison, my family had been very traditional. My mother was a teacher, my father an accountant. There was a lot of khaki and beige in our house. I was comfortable with beige. I wanted a colonial in neutral paint colors someday.  

I glanced at Maddox’s chest. I couldn’t help it. It was right in front of me. “I’ll make some dinner while you get dressed and you can tell me all about your ink.”

“Sounds like a plan. Here, give me the baby so you can do your thing in the kitchen.” He reached out for Sully.

When he did, the knot on the towel gave way a second time and it pooled at his ankles. He didn’t react at all to being fully naked.

He just took my son, saying, “I didn’t mean to mock your threads, little man. It’s not your fault your mom digs khakis.”

He turned and walked down the hallway, ignoring the towel, and giving me a mouthwatering view of a very tight ass.

Note to self: Maddox was comfortable being naked.

I scooped up the abandoned towel and debated whether that was the world’s greatest news or the worst.

Erin McCarthyAbout Erin

USA Today and New York Times bestselling author Erin McCarthy sold her first book in 2002 and has since written over seventy-five novels and novellas in the romance and mystery genres. Erin has a special weakness for high-heeled boots, martinis, and Frank Sinatra. She lives with her renovation-addicted husband (he built her a bar, so it’s all good!) and their blended family of kids and rescue dogs.

Connect with Erin

Stay up to date with Erin by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2tYmOsP


3 stars
Cute and different. Single mom Savannah has her brother's best friend move in with her because he needs a place to live while filming a reality series. He is also going to help her take care of her son. It sounds like an updated version of "Who's the Boss?" ... and maybe I have just dated myself there! LOL!

Enticing Liam - BT banner.jpg

Enticing Liam by Kristen Proby

Release Date: March 10, 2020

Enticing Liam AMAZON.jpg

Enticing Liam, an all new stand-alone contemporary romance by New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby.


Princess Eleanor has had it up to her royal eyeballs.  She’s surrounded by suitable men, each more rude and obnoxious than the last. None of them are worthy of her heart—not to mention her virginity. So what’s a girl to do? Flee to Montana to stay with her brother, lay low, and avoid both the media and the men, that’s what.


Liam Cunningham is the head of security in Montana for the royal family. For a man who has seen the worst of human nature in the Army, being in Cunningham Falls is a balm to his tattered soul.


Princess Eleanor, on the other hand, is a royal pain in the butt. She’s proven in the past that she’s a troublemaker. She’s also beautiful, smart, and everything good in life that he doesn’t deserve.


But when Ellie proposes the idea of Liam being her sex coach, how can he resist?

FB AN.jpg


Download your copy today!

Amazon Worldwide: mybook.to/EnticingLiamKP

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Excerpt:
    She’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen in my whole godforsaken life. Even with the tousled hair and smeared makeup. And in that barely-there outfit, it’s taking all the strength in me not to reach out and touch her soft skin.

    But she’s off-limits. Without a doubt, no questions asked, off-limits.

  “Wait.” Eleanor’s head whips up, and she stares at me with wide, hopeful   eyes. “Did you end up saying yes?”

    I slowly shake my head from side to side. “No.”

    She lets her head fall back again and mutters, “Damn.”

  “Eleanor—”

  “No.” She holds up a hand and lifts her head so she can level me with narrowed blue eyes. “We’re talking about sex and nakedness. I think you can call me Ellie. Not Your Highness or Princess or Eleanor.”

    “Ellie.” I clear my throat. “You don’t really want what you’re asking.” She smirks and pulls a knee up to her chest. For protection or because of nervousness, I’m not sure. “Because I’m young, and I don’t know my own mind?”

    This is a trick question. “No, because you don’t know me, and I’m telling you, I’m not the man who should be teaching you about these things. You should find someone kinder, softer. Gentler.”

    “Well, that sounds bloody boring,” she counters and then tips her head to the side. “I may be inexperienced, but I’m not stupid, Liam. I’m old enough to know myself and what I want.”

    “And you think that’s me.”

    She licks her lips, and it’s almost my undoing. Ellie has the kind of lips you don’t just want to kiss. You want to explore them. Bite. Sink in and live there for a few good hours because the glories that a man is sure to discover and experience are endless.

    Her curves turn me inside out. Her hair is thick and begs to be twisted around my fingers.

    And that view I got of her bare back last night kept me up into the wee hours of the morning with a hard-on that rivaled granite.

    I want her.

    But I’m not right for her. That I know for sure. I’ve seen too much. Done horrible things.

    None of that should ever touch her.

    Ellie leans forward and keeps her eyes steady on mine. “I haven’t made it a secret since the day I met you that I find you attractive, Liam. Yes, I want you. But I’m not a child, and you said no. So, the answer is no. Don’t worry, we won’t have any issues.”

    That’s the right answer. I should nod and go about my day, leave it in the past, forget it ever happened.

    But I can’t ignore the look of hurt in her eyes. She’s put on a brave face, but I see the pain all the same.

    I don’t want to hurt Ellie—or anyone for that matter. But I’m not the right man for her to tumble into bed with.



About Kristen:

Kristen was born and raised in a small resort town in her beloved Montana. In her mid-twenties, she decided to stretch her wings and move to the Pacific Northwest, where she made her home for more than a dozen years.

During that time, Kristen wrote many romance novels and joined organizations such as RWA and other small writing groups. She spent countless hours in workshops, and more mornings than she can count up before dawn so she could write before going to work. She submitted many manuscripts to agents and editors alike, but was always told no. In the summer of 2012, the self-publishing scene was new and thriving, and Kristen had one goal: to publish just one book. It was something she longed to cross off of her bucket list.

Not only did she publish one book, she’s since published close to thirty titles, many of which have hit the USA Today, New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists. She continues to self publish, best known for her With Me In Seattle and Boudreaux series, and is also proud to work with William Morrow, a division of HarperCollins, with the Fusion Series.

Kristen and her husband, John, make their home in her hometown of Whitefish, Montana with their two cats.


Connect with Kristen:



3.5 stars
I love Kristen Proby's stories. I think I have read all her books. I am a fan royal books. There seem to be a lot of those lately. 

Princess Eleanor is inning away from one thing and into the arms of Liam Cunningham is the head of security in Montana for her family.  There has always been a spark between the 2 and now that they are in the same place together, things heat up.  

Because Liam is security detail for Eleanor and her family, he is trying to keep her at arm's length. The chemistry is strong and evident between both. 

I enjoyed this one.