BOOKS AND BLOGGING PHILOSOPHY

Philosophy is defined as a theory underlying or regarding a sphere of activity or thought. Well, my theory is if I can add at least 10 new books to my Wishlist and move at least 5 older Wishlist selections to my TBR list every month, then life is a ice cream sundae. And if I can find those 10 books from at least 5 new blogs each month then that's the cherry on top.

NEW VISITORS AND OLD- WELCOME!

NEW VISITORS AND OLD- WELCOME!
Well, I've made it almost 5 years now, so for better or worse, I continue on. I tend to blog in spurts as the urge to be creative erupts. As I don't have an artistic bone in my body, you will see very few changes in the layouts. Hey, I'm a reader not an artist like so many of the awesome bloggers I follow. I know you don't always have the time but if you stopped and looked, take a half a minute and say your piece. Recommend a book that you have enjoyed or hated for that matter. Thank you to all who visit.
Oh, and I moved my Google Friend Connect info and share this buttons to the top, as without our friends, who are we?


Saturday, May 6, 2017

Cover Reveal For MISTAKE NO. 7 by Laura P Avery


Title: Mistake No. 7
Author: Laura P Avery
Genre: New Adult
Release Date: May 19, 2017
Hosted by:
Buoni Amici Press, LLC.
I have a history of making mistakes with men - #married, #bad boy, #narcissist ... you get the idea
In fact, mistake no.6 just dumped me, and boy, do I need a break from men. My best friend won’t have it though, she knows “the sweetest guy” for me… no thanks!
You see, I like my men with an edge, and sweet won’t cut it. Take my history professor Rick Carter for example, he’s not your typical professor. He’s smoking hot, and when I’m at his lectures… well, let’s just say English lit is the last thing on my mind, #squirming in seat.
Of course, he’s just a fantasy, a dirty little daydream, I mean I’m 21 and he’s at least 32 and we move in different circles, in fact, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know I exist.
There’s no way he could ever turn out to be mistake no.7… is there?

BuyNow
Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/2pcc6aL

"This is ridiculous," I muttered under my breath, setting the bucket of cleaning supplies on the porch while I waited for my client to answer the door. Mr. Evans had assured me that they would be there first thing in the morning to let me in before giving me a key.

Footsteps approached the front door. I found myself holding my breath in anticipation.

Please don't be an old pervert, I willed.

The door opened and I felt a rush of warm air.

My body nearly shut down when I saw the person who opened the door. It was none other than my young English lit professor, Rick Carter. There he stood in nothing but a pair of red boxers, a sheen of perspiration on his tanned skin and his muscles bulging as if he'd been working out. My eyes took in his broad shoulders, his hard cut abs and, against my will, were drawn to his boxers, which covered what appeared to be a very sizeable bulge.

When I looked back up he was grinning.

My heart pounded in the base of my throat as he, in turn, gave me in my stupid, too tight uniform a once over. His gaze left hot trails on my skin.

He arched an eyebrow lecherously.

"So you're my maid then?" he asked, without an ounce of recognition.

I felt my face burn with embarrassment and for the longest moment I couldn't speak. I was struck dumb.

"Hello?"

"I-I-" I stumbled over my words like an idiot. "I'm sorry, Professor Carter. I didn't realize that you were the one who-"

"Wait!" he said, sharply. "You know me?"

I suppose I couldn't blame him for not recognizing me. After all, I had my hair pulled back tightly, and had let Tess do my makeup - not to mention the outfit I was wearing. In class I always dressed for comfort - jeans and sweaters were my go to.

"I'm in your class," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "It's me, Rebecca. Rebecca Black. We talked the other day? I'm in your advanced senior writing course."

Recognition filled his eyes.

"Oh, Christ! Miss Black! Of course - the daydreamer. Wow!" He ran a hand through his messy brown hair with a small sheepish grin that sent my heart fluttering. "I didn't recognize you all… I mean so h… you look different out of class."

"The uniform is a job requirement," I said, almost apologetically as I smoothed a hand over my hair. "And I don't usually wear makeup."

"Well you look… great," he said, and pushed the door open as his eyes flicked over my body again. "I'm sorry. I should've recognized you. Well, come on in, you must be freezing."
I wasn't freezing. In fact, I felt feverish. And it only got worse as I squeezed past, bumping against his bare chest as he ushered me through the door…
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