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?


Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Blog Tour & Giveaway For HIS FAKE ALIEN FIANCEE By Patricia Eimer

His Fake Alien Fiancee

by Patricia Eimer
Out of this World #2
Publication Date: Feb 6, 2017
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Select Otherworld, Standalone, Sci-Fi, Romance, Funny, Fake Relationship

 Princess Perripraxis not only has to find a fiancé—and fast—she’s got to find one who doesn’t mind that her “no makeup” face has green and purple scales. Otherwise, Daddy Dearest has plans that don’t include Perri’s compliance. Candidate Number One: Her sexy human best friend, Brandt. Bartender Brandt Turner didn’t need all those years in the army to teach him never to leave a man behind. Or an alien princess in need of a pretend fiancé. If she needs someone to play the lovesick fool to convince her dad to let her stay on Earth, well then, he’ll let the world think Cupid finally took him out. But Perri’s father has no intention of playing nice—and he’s not above cruel and unusual alien torture to make things go his way. But Brandt is willing to complete the mission…however far he has to go.


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Excerpt 

He lifted his head slightly and nudged hers back with his cheek, intending 
to kiss her  forehead. To be tender. To be a friend. 
But her lips were there and they looked like strawberries against her green
 skin and he knew even as her eyes widened and connected with his that
 this was a bad idea. He brought his lips down on top of hers and he 
found that he didn’t care. Didn’t care that she was the princess
of a galactic empire. That his best friend was in love with her sister. 
That she was green. That they were friends. That he’d promised himself 
he wasn’t going to get involved with someone he actually cared about.
Didn’t even care that the taste of her lips against his made him feel like 
he was falling off a cliff and into a serious pile of shit. 
They both shifted, moving so they were facing, and he brought his 
hands up to cradle her face with his left while he wrapped his right around 
her waist, hoisting her off her  own stool and into his lap. 
She had her fingers entwined in his hair and was kissing him 
like  he was her only source of air. 
The tip of her tongue licked against his mouth, and he began to kiss 
back,  chasing her into her own mouth. He tightened his grip on her, 
pressing their  chests together, and he fought the urge to shift his hips into 
her, to maneuver them onto the top of his bar. They were friends and 
they’d had too much to  drink and she was upset and this was the 
last thing either of them needed. 
She grabbed the front of his shirt right above the top button 
and jerked downward,  ripping the shirt apart and sending buttons 
flying. Right, then. He kept a tight grip on her hips so she didn’t fall 
off his lap  and brought his other hand down to start fumbling with 
the knot  that held her sheet-toga-ceremonial robe thing closed. 
She let go of his shirt and started squirming, pulling the hem up, 
refusing to let go of his lips, and he tried his best to help her get the thing 
off over her head. 
“Wait.” He broke his lips away from hers and wrapped his arms around 
her waist, hoisting her up as he stood and dropped her onto the bar, pulling 
the material off over her head, trying not to drool because how had he not 
realized  that she’d been going commando under that sheet? 
“Brandt.” She grabbed the sides of his dress shirt and pulled him 
close again, pressing their lips together, and
suddenly his sweet little Perri had gotten forceful. “Didn’t you just
 tell me I’d  been on Earth six months and I needed to go ahead and 
have sex already?”  “Well.” He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d been with
 a lot of women who liked it a lot of different ways. But he’d never been 
quite as turned on as he was right this very second with the little woman in 
front of him handling him like a rag doll. 
“Yes?” 
“And that it should be with someone who didn’t freak out 
when they  found out I was green?” 
“Uh-huh?” He studied her, some weird mixture of turned on 
and really fucking intimidated. 
“That leaves three possibilities. Anderson Fox is not interested in 
having sex with a female. Mattias is in love
with my sister. And then there’s you. Ding ding ding, Brandt 
Turner, you are a winner. Now take me upstairs and take my earth 
virginity already.” “Um…” he muttered once before she managed to press 
their lips together again, 
and all he could think was, “Sure. 
Okay. Best to give the lady what she wants.” 
“Now,” she growled. 
And to think, he’d thought she was the mild-mannered 
alien princess in the lot.



Patricia Eimer is a suburban mom who has days where she feels like she’s barely hanging on. She currently lives in eastern Pennsylvania with her two wonderful kids and a husband that learned the gourmet art of frozen pizzas to give her more time to write. When she’s not writing—or shuttling her children to a hundred different places a day– she can be found trying to cook (and sometimes blowing up hard boiled eggs), reading and arguing with her dogs about plot points. Most days the Beagle wins but the Dalmatian is in close second and her mastiff puppy is making a break for the inside. Patricia meanwhile is a longshot fourth.
When she’s not writing she can be found on Facebook, at her website (www.patriciaeimer.com) or blogging about her attempts at cooking and her complete inability to craft as a contributor to the Suburban Flail Blog (www.suburbanflail.com). She is also a connoseiur of really bad science jokes.

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