Sunday, 26 June 2016

REVIEW: THE BUTCHER, THE BAKER, THE CUSTOM BIKE MAKER (THE MYER TRIPLETS) - THE BAKER BY MATHEW ORTIZ

Blurb:

Recipe for Romance 
1 cup crazy Myer triplet aka Boone Myer 
1 cup snobby guppie aka Robbie Gaither 
2 tbsp. nutty family and friends 
1 tbsp. epic beard (no substitutions) 
1 tbsp. sexual compatibility 
1 tsp. misunderstandings 
Preheat sexual tension to 375 Degrees. In a large American City aka Atlanta, Georgia, combine the odd ball Myer triplet, Boone, with equal parts stuffy, snobby uptight Robbie Gaither. When mostly together, add family and friends, who mean well but… bless their hearts, they try. Toss in Boone’s gorgeous beard and do not forget the intense, sometimes ridiculous attraction these two bone heads have for each other and lastly throw in two lives that seem to only get in the way of these two making each other happy. Mix until a complete chaotic mess and pour into a well lubed… check that, pour in well-greased pan and bake until very, very firm. Bake for one hour. Serve hot and eat with your fingers. Very messy, very funny and very tasty! 


Get your copy HERE!

Review:

Mr Ortiz has done it again! You open it up and from the first page you are right back with the Gaither's and the Myers. These two families are destined to be together. Avery Myer found Martin Gaither in The Butcher and now it's the turn of the second triplet, Boone, to get his icing covered fingers on a Gaither of his own. In walks Robbie Gaither and he is a goner!

Matt's woven a beautiful love story around these two men. Their attraction is undeniable, but can they overcome the obstacles life throws in their way? Boone feels like the broken twin and hates to have his diabetes define who he is. Robbie is a bit of a snob who likes his own way. But both are driven to succeed both in their professional and personal lives.

Supported by an array of secondary characters like Ms Mabel, Eli and Oscar, Emmett and Alex and, of course, Boone's Mawmaw (who I want to be when I grow up - right down to the hideous housecoat and fuscia slippers!) this is a love story you won't want to put down and just leaves you salivating for the Custom Bike Maker's story in book 3!

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

ISLAND COUNSELLOR (ISLAND MEDICS #2) BY SUE BROWN - REVIEW


Blurb:

Counselor Logan Wilde has a successful therapy practice in London, but when a traumatic incident there leaves him suffering from PTSD, he takes refuge in his holiday cottage on the Isle of Wight, unable to face going back to work. Not that he’s allowed to relax. Logan’s time is taken up with helping Liam Owens, plus there’s Nick Brent, whom Logan discovers collapsed on the beach. Nick and Logan spend their time bickering with each other, but that doesn’t alter the attraction they feel. 

Logan is forced to make some hard decisions about his future, which entails facing up to recent events. Only he’s not alone—Nick is with him. Unfortunately someone else makes a decision too, and now trouble is on its way to the Isle of Wight.


Review:

I bloody loved every single word. Another beautifully woven  Isle story bringing us new, well-rounded characters, and allowing us to cuddle up to well-loved characters from the previous books. Logan is to brilliant at helping others but finds it hard to ask for himself. Meeting Nick, who doesn't take any crap from anyone - although his mother could certainly kick his butt - is the perfect foil for Logan, giving him a new found strength. 

As with all the Island books, there's the perfect mix of angst, drama and hot, hot lovin'. A wonderfully warm and satisfying read that will have you turning the pages until you've finished. I defy you to put it down... I couldn't!


This one gets 5 Boop-boop-be-doops

Get your copy here at Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk

Friday, 17 June 2016

DEAR READER....


Dear Reader...

I wasn't sure how to start this letter to you. There are a million and one thoughts floating around my head vying for attention, but I can't latch on to a single one that adequately expresses how I'm feeling. So I am going to go for the tried and trusted, the steadfast and true - although it too seems pathetically inadequate for what's in my heart. But here goes...

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

For the stories you took a chance on.
For urging me on when I'd have quite willingly closed my laptop forever.
For slapping me upside the head when I wallowed in the deep end of the pity pool.
For making me feel as though the characters in my head touched you in some way.
For the emails and words of encouragement - knowing that the stories in my head have touched you in some way is something I could never fully explain. 
For sticking by me during the dry spells and giving me the confidence to keep going.

But, most of all, I want to thank you for reading. Not only my work but all those wonderful stories woven by wonderful authors that have touched your hearts. We couldn't do it without you.

Thank you, dear Reader, and, as inadequate as the words may be, I mean them from the bottom of my heart.

Lisa  

Tuesday, 14 June 2016

SOLO HONEYMOON NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON!

Blurb:

Leo Barratt hadn't written his bucket list, but he was pretty sure there were several things hewouldn't have put on it. Like... waking up to a Dear John letter from his fiance, Eric, the day before their wedding... or going on his honeymoon - alone. 

But, under the strict instructions of his mother, he found himself in Venice at Bauta, the beautiful bed and breakfast where he'd supposed to have started off married life. Instead, he planned to spend three weeks inside his room and wait for the pain to go away.

Or at least that's what he thought...

Bauta, was run by Matteo Leghissa and his mother, Luana. Used to getting his own way, Matteo refused to allow Leo to wallow in self-pity and appointed himself as Leo's official guide.

Apparently, falling in love with a beautiful stranger wasn't on Leo's bucket list either but.....


Excerpt:

Prologue

The insistent sound of the storm trooper death march jabbed at Leo’s eardrums like a pissed off woodpecker. Not that he should be surprised. His mother had called him what seemed like every ten minutes for the last week. He sighed heavily and didn’t even bother opening his eyes as he felt around on the bedside cabinet for his mobile. His fingers brushed against the sliver of metal and he snatched it up, then cracked an eye open enough to press the answer button and put the phone to his ear.
“Mum, long time no harp,” he drawled, not even trying to hide the twang of sarcasm.
“I gave you seven hours of blissfully uninterrupted sleep, what more do you want?” she quipped.
“Isn’t the recommended average eight? Call me back in an hour.”
“Pish, don’t believe everything you read, dear. You’re not ten.”
Leo smiled fondly despite the missing hour. No one did condescension better than Susan Barratt. His mother was from a titled background and, as such, expected to be treated with the same impeccable manners she had been raised to extend to others. Leo’s lips twitched; and woe betide anyone who didn’t meet her expectations. “So,” he stifled a yawn, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your dulcet tones at this ungodly hour?”
“It’s nine-thirty you lazy so-and-so and unless I’ve got the wrong end of the stick, you’re getting married tomorrow.” Her tone brooked no nonsense. “There are things to be done, son of mine!”
“You’ve been saying that all week,” Leo complained. “Haven’t we done it all yet?”
“Don’t make me come over there.” The warning was clear.
Leo scrubbed a hand over his face. Surely he wasn’t the only thirty-two year old who was still just a little bit afraid of his mother? But then his father was sixty-four and hid in the shed when his mother was on the rampage, so Leo figured he could allow himself this one tiny foible. “Sorry, Mum,” he mumbled, suitably chided.
“I should think so. Now nudge that idle fiancĂ© of yours and let’s get this show on the road. He’s got to pick up the buttonholes while you pick up Auntie Maureen and Uncle Clive from Gatwick.”
Leo threw out an arm to do as he was told but hit cool sheet instead of warm Eric. He frowned and turned over, the phone still clutched in his fingers, his mother reeling off a list of last-minute tasks in his ear. Not that he was listening to her anymore. He was too distracted by the sheet of folded paper with his name on it lying on the pillow where Eric’s head should be. His stomach tightened and he tasted the unpleasant acidity of bile in the back of his throat. He sat up slowly, his eyes never leaving the paper which suddenly seemed dazzlingly white against the duck egg blue of the pillowcase.
“Leo? Are you listening to me?”
“Mum, I’m going to have to call you back.” How he managed to speak he would never know.
“Leo?” Her tone immediately changed, her famous mother’s intuition obviously kicking in. “Leo, what is it?”
“I’ll call yo—”
Leo hung up and the mobile dropped from his nerveless fingers onto the duvet. He swallowed hard and tried to ignore the rush of blood in his ears as his heart began to race.
Get a grip, Leo. It’s just a couple of lines telling you he’s gone to get that paraffin wax pedicure he was talking about last night.
He breathed in a sigh of relief, but couldn’t quite bring himself to let it go the same way. Instead it spluttered from between his lips like a half-hearted raspberry. Whatever was on that piece of paper wasn’t good, of that he was certain, which is why he didn’t want to touch it. Maybe if he stared at it long enough it would disappear. He’d seen a trick like that once in Vegas. Couldn’t be that hard, could it?
That was how his mother, father and his sister, Alex, found him twenty minutes later when they burst into his bedroom—still staring. When his mother grabbed the note and opened it, he briefly wondered why he’d ever given her a key. A feeling that was quickly overshadowed by the relief that flooded through him as she shoved the note at his father then climbed onto the bed next to him and took him in her comfortingly familiar embrace. Leo closed his eyes and clung to her as if she was a life raft in a very choppy sea.
He was right. It was not a good note…

Available now at Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk

Monday, 13 June 2016

RELEASE DAY: SOLO HONEYMOON

Blurb:

Leo Barratt hadn't written his bucket list, but he was pretty sure there were several things hewouldn't have put on it. Like... waking up to a Dear John letter from his fiance, Eric, the day before their wedding... or going on his honeymoon - alone. 

But, under the strict instructions of his mother, he found himself in Venice at Bauta, the beautiful bed and breakfast where he'd supposed to have started off married life. Instead, he planned to spend three weeks inside his room and wait for the pain to go away.

Or at least that's what he thought...

Bauta, was run by Matteo Leghissa and his mother, Luana. Used to getting his own way, Matteo refused to allow Leo to wallow in self-pity and appointed himself as Leo's official guide.

Apparently, falling in love with a beautiful stranger wasn't on Leo's bucket list either but.....

Available at All Romance EBooks (Amazon to follow)


Sunday, 12 June 2016

STEP BACK IN TIME SUNDAY

You can't really have an 80's Step Back in Time without these two bands and, because I couldn't choose between them this morning, you're getting two for the price of one!

They have a myriad of hits between them, so I've chosen my own favourites, but I'd be interested in yours....





Thursday, 9 June 2016

SAFETY OR RULES?

Hello my lovelies,

When my glamorous assistant goes to school each morning, I'm not particularly worried about her. Why? Well, she's not allowed off school grounds. The teachers and office staff are trained to deal with any eventuality should it occur and, if there's something wrong, I know I will get a telephone call. But, the main reason I'm not worried is because I take her to school and I pick her up again, job done.

However, when #1 son goes to senior school each morning, I'm not allowed the same luxury. On most points, yes. He's not allowed off school grounds. I hope the teachers and office staff are as well trained to deal with eventualities as the primary school staff are and that they would call me if something is wrong. But that's not job done, unfortunately, because I don't take him to school and pick him up again. Why is that a problem, I hear you cry? He's 12 now. He needs a bit of independence. To show a little responsibility. And he's a really sensible boy. I know all that. But his school has a rule that they won't budge on - they are not allowed mobile phones on school premises - period.

Okay... I can see where they're coming from. Too much to police during school time. Too much aggro. But, in the last two weeks we have had two reports of a man following kids to school and in the local park. Luckily, so far, no one has been hurt... then this morning one of the mum's of a boy in my son's year, posted that he'd not been seen since yesterday after school and she was frantic. The Police had been called and she spent the entire night not knowing where her child was and having no way of contacting him. Of course, as a parent, you immediately get that sick feeling in your stomach. Luckily-I don't know all the details-but he showed up at school this morning where he was met by a police officer on the gate and taken home to his parents. He's safe. Thank God.

But in that forty-five minutes, half an hour, ten minutes, two minutes -  however long it takes our children to walk home - they have no lifeline - they can't contact us and we can't contact them. Please God none of them ever need to but at least they should have the option. Someone said to me that the rule is there for a reason. What if a bully steals their phone? My answer was that you report the bully to the police. Then I was told it would open a whole new can of worms because children want the latest trends and some can't afford it and would get made fun of. But in my opinion you can say that about anything - trainers, bags, shoes, the list is endless. Someone even made fun of #1 son because he hadn't gelled his hair a certain way for goodness sake. And at the end of the day I would rather know where my kid is or - God forbid - the police could ping his phone to find his last location than worry about whether or not his phone is as good as someone else's.

Is it just me? What are your thoughts?

xx