2016. július 27., szerda

Lauren Rowe: Ball Peen Hammer + Blog Tour






Megjelenés éve: 2016.

SoCoRo Publishing

Fülszöveg:  Keane Morgan wouldn’t return any of my calls or texts, and I was pissed as hell about it. I didn’t want to drive from Seattle to L.A. with the guy any more than he wanted to drive with me, but I had no frickin’ choice in the matter--at least, not if I wanted to use his brother Dax’s coveted parking spot at UCLA.

Okay, so it turned out Keane was objectively gorgeous, and, fine, pretty funny, too. But did he have to be so damned in love with himself? I mean, jeez, the cocky way he flashed those dimples was just so orchestrated. And, honestly, what kind of guy uses the phrase “baby doll” with a straight face? Oh, that’s right: the kind of guy who’s a male stripper.

Yup, the cocky jerk turned out to be Seattle’s answer to Magic Mike, a stripper known as “Ball Peen Hammer”--which meant Keane Morgan was emphatically not the kind of guy I’d ever fall for.

Not. At. All.

No freakin’ way.

Well, until Keane convinced me to fall for him, that is.

Which I did.

Hard.

NOTE:

Ball Peen Hammer is a full-length, standalone sexy romantic comedy about Keane Morgan (one of four Morgan brothers introduced in The Club Series) and Maddy Milliken (the little sister of Hannah Banana Montana Milliken).

Although Keane and Maddy’s love story is set in the universe of The Club Series, it is a standalone novel with no cliffhanger and no prior reading required. Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18. 







Foglaljuk össze, mit tudtam erről a regényről olvasás előtt:
1. Lauren Rowe, A klub írón
ője írta.
2. Szerettem A klubot.
3. A bor
ító ismert volt, de ugyebár ez sokszor nem alap semmire sem.
4. Ennyi.
Jó kis kezdet, huh? De t
őlem általában megszokhattátok, hogy szeretek vaktában belevágni a dolgokba. Hogy miért? Mert ha mindig a biztosra mennék, ezer százalék, hogy nem akadnék össze ilyen remek könyvekkel. Merthogy ez az volt. Gyerekek, nem is tudom idejét, mikor röhögtem ennyit. Ebben a könyvben olyan szöveg van, hogy azt még Tara Sivec is megirigyelné. (Tudjátok, hogy mekkora Tara Tramp vagyok, szóval ez nagy szó.) Hát, Lauren Rowe bebizonyította, hogy nem csak az erotika terén állja meg a helyét. Írt egy olyan könyvet, ami hosszú órákon keresztül képes volt ugyanolyan szinten tartani az érdeklődésemet, hiszen olyan humoros éérzéki, hogy lehetetlen ellenállni neki.


Ez a könyv is olyan, ami a felszín alatt igazán nagy dolgokat rejt magában. Mert igen, ez egy erotikus, humoros regény, de ott van benne az a fajta fordulat, ami igazán érdekessé teheti. Az alaphangulat megvolt, de amikor felfedeztem ezt a mélységet, akkor éreztem igazán, hogy ez egy remek regény.
Megmondom 
őszintén, egy idő után kicsit elnyújtottnak éreztem, de aztán rájöttem, mekkora baromlány vagyok, hiszen ebben éppen az a poén, hogy rengeteg mosolygós órát szerezzen nekünk.
Egy dolgot mondok: Seattle válasza a Magic Mike-ra. Hölgyeim, ígéretesen hangzik, ugye? Higgyetek nekem, hogy lesz itt kell
ő mennyiségű kocka a hason, huncut duma, gödröcskés mosoly, annak ellenére is, hogy néha megkukkantjuk a már fentebb említett mélységeket is.
Nem lesz
ünk híján nevetésben – oké, röhögni fogunk, mint a hiénák -, kapunk mindent, ami elengedhetetlen része egy erotikus regénynek.
A szereplők egyszerűen káprázatosak.
Itt van Keanan, akir
ől először azt hittem, tényleg imádja önmagát, de ez az ember olyan dumát előadott, hogy nem győztem fogni a hasamat, sikítva röhögtem a munkahelyen.
Maddy is nagyon jó fej csajszi, annyira passzol ehhez a fél
őrült Ball Peen Hammer-hez, hogyha nem lennének, ki kéne őket találni. Jah, ez meg is történt, my bad.
A legnagyobb kedvencem azonban Zander volt. Amit
ő és Keanan leműveltek együtt…Basszus, azokat a részeket azonnal újra is olvasom! Beteg állatok, imádtam minden mozzanatukat.

A vége úgy lett romantikus, hogy nem csorogtak ki a Kindle-b
ől. Parfait.
Nekem nagyon tetszett, ha kedvetek szottyan egy kis amcsi humorhoz, bátran vegyétek majd kezetekbe ezt a könyvet.

*****
Idézetek
*****

So what’s my secret? Okay, I’ll tell you, but only ’cause you’re so pretty and sweet: I’m awesome at sex and women can smell it on me.


“I’d do Keanu, as is. No sex-change required.”
“Oh, so you’re bi now? You’re coming out to me right here and now? Cause if so, I support you one hundred percent, baby doll—it doesn’t change a goddamned thing between us.”
“Well, of course, it doesn’t change a goddamned thing between us. Nothing ever could. But, no, I’m not bi—though I kinda wish I were. That’d be so awesome.”
“Why would that be awesome?” Zander asks.
“Unlimited choices, brah.”


“My dick’s got the memory of an elephant.”
“And that’s not the only elephant-like thing about your dick, Peenie Weenie.”
“Yee-boy!” I shout.
We high-five each other.
“Now, my dick?” Zander says. “No memory at all. In fact, I think my dick’s got Alzheimer’s, man.”


Oh my God, I think Maddy Milliken just sent a subliminal message to the pleasure-center in my brain. Because, I swear to God, when she said the word “pleasure” and shot me that naughty look to go along with it, my dick kinda tingled a little bit.


She’s my honorary little sister. Sisters don’t have tits. They have breasts.
Shit.
Now I’m thinking about Kat breastfeeding Little G.
I cringe.
What the fuck am I doing?


You look that amazing in a driver’s license photo? You’re insanely photogenic.”
“As all psychopaths are, my dear.”


“Sorry. I take it back. You’re not a pig. You’re just a horny, delusional, psychopathic, arrogant, blue-haired puppet master who collects pickles.”
“Thank you. Glad we cleared that up.”
I chuckle. “You prefer to be called all those things to ‘a pig’?”
“Fuck yeah.”


“I’ve never heard you curse like this, Madelyn Milliken.” He flashes a huge smile. “I like it.”
“Oh, yeah? You like it, huh? Well, then, how ’bout this—put your fucking shirt on, motherfucking Keane Morgan. What’s your middle name?”
His smile is at full-wattage. “Elijah,” he says.
“Okay. Put your fucking shirt on, Keane Elijah Fucking Morgan.”
Keane laughs. “What’s your middle name?”
“My middle name is ‘Put Your Fucking Shirt On, Keane Elijah Fucking Morgan,’” I say.


No matter what we said to each other last night, or how my heart’s inevitably going to shatter when the pleasure’s all gone and there’s nothing left but pain, in this moment, I want him like I’ve never wanted another man.
And, by God, I’m going to get him.
Right freakin’ now.



“ I’m a man-eater now.” I bite my lip. “And my first meal is you.”






BALLPEEN_HAMMER_BOOK_TOUR.jpg

BALLPEEN_HAMMER_LIVE.jpg
Ready the Pickles,  Keane Morgan is finally here!


Meet Keane in this STANDALONE romantic comedy!
(No Prior reading required)


BUY NOW!!

BPH Amazon.jpg
Blurb


Keane Morgan wouldn’t return any of my calls or texts, and I was pissed as hell about it. I didn’t want to drive from Seattle to L.A. with the guy any more than he wanted to drive with me, but I had no frickin’ choice in the matter--at least, not if I wanted to use his brother Dax’s coveted parking spot at UCLA.


Okay, so it turned out Keane was objectively gorgeous, and, fine, pretty funny, too. But did he have to be so damned in love with himself? I mean, jeez, the cocky way he flashed those dimples was just so orchestrated. And, honestly, what kind of guy uses the phrase “baby doll” with a straight face? Oh, that’s right: the kind of guy who’s a male stripper.


Yup, the cocky jerk turned out to be Seattle’s answer to Magic Mike, a stripper known as “Ball Peen Hammer”--which meant Keane Morgan was emphatically not the kind of guy I’d ever fall for.


Not. At. All.


No freakin’ way.


Well, until Keane convinced me to fall for him, that is.


Which I did.


Hard.
13817212_10157051171300251_16752450_n.jpg


Excerpt
As they exchange information, I make my way to the end of my aisle and loop into theirs, not taking my eyes off Baby Face the whole time. Shit. This dude’s hunting Maddy so hard, it’s making my blood boil. Jesus, he’s going full-throttle rifle on Maddy’s ass right now, completely foregoing his crossbow altogether.
When I reach the two of them in the middle of their aisle, I shuffle past the dude and stand next to Maddy, shoulder to shoulder, and then, on a sudden impulse, put my arm around her shoulders and squeeze her tight, making her wobble in place at the unexpected jolt to her balance. “Hey, sis,” I say, squeezing her like a rag doll. “You totally fell down on your candy-acquiring duties.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She subtly wiggles out of my grasp. “Brian and I got into this hilarious argument about the best candy bar of all- time, and—”
“And I’m totally right,” Brian says, cutting her off, and they both chuckle at some inside joke.
“No, I’m totally right,” Maddy corrects.
Brian smiles at her. “I’ll actually be down in L.A. in a month. How ’bout I call you then?”
“Great.”
“Nice to meet you, man,” Brian says, looking at me. He nods but doesn’t put out his hand.
I nod back.
Brian strolls away, buys a Snickers bar and a can of Red Bull, and leaves with a little wave to Maddy.
The minute he’s out the door, Maddy takes a giant step away from me, her face etched with annoyance. “What was that?” she asks.
“What?”
“That weird thing you just did?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Maddy puts on an exaggerated scowl, like she’s Hulk Hogan eying an opponent. “’Hey, Brian,’” she says in a low voice, clearly intending to imitate me but sounding more like Arnold Schwarzenegger imitating Maddy imitating me. “’I’m Maddy Milliken’s bodyguard and I’m going to beat you the hell up now,’” she adds.
“What are you talking about?” I say, chuckling.
Maddy pauses, assessing me, and finally shrugs. “Nothing. I guess I imagined it.”
“Imaged what?”
“Your weird... I dunno... vibe.”
“Oh, well, yeah. I was worried about you.”
“Worried about me? I was standing in a minimart, buying candy. Pretty low-risk activity, I’d say.”
“Uh, you absolutely were not standing in a minimart, buying candy—you totally fell down on that job, dude. You were standing in a minimart, getting picked up by a douche. And second of all—”
What?”
Shit. What the fuck am I doing? I’ve got to stop this shit right now. “Don’t get riled up, baby doll,” I say in my most soothing voice. “All I’m saying is you took so damned long in here, I started thinking maybe the store was getting robbed or you’d fallen into the toilet or something.”
Maddy twists her mouth. “Brian didn’t seem the least bit douchey to me.”
I shrug.“What gave you the impression he’s a douche?”
“Just a figure of speech. So are you gonna do the job I hired you to do or not?” I motion to the candy rack. “‘Cause based on your performance thus far, you’re totally fired.”
“And I wasn’t getting ‘picked up,’” Maddy says, her tone full of indignation. “Brian’s brother goes to UCLA. Can’t I talk to a helpful, nice guy without it being some sort of a sleazy pick-up?”
“Sure you can. However, in this instance, you were talking to a helpful, nice guy who was picking you up so he can bone the living fuck outta ya.”
Keane.” Maddy’s cheeks burst with color. “Don’t say that. Oh my god. You’re insane. Brian was just being helpful, that’s all.”
“Yeah, so he can bone the living fuck outta ya.”
“Stop saying that. Please. It’s offensive and absolutely not true. This topic of conversation is officially over.”

About the Author
Lauren Rowe
lauren rowe.jpg
USA Today and internationally bestselling author Lauren Rowe lives in San Diego, California, where, in addition to writing books, she performs with her dance/party band at events all over Southern California, writes songs, takes embarrassing snapshots of her ever-patient Boston terrier, Buster, spends time with her wonderful family, and narrates audiobooks. Much to Lauren’s thrill, her books have been translated all over the world in multiple languages and hit multiple domestic and international bestseller lists. With enticing characters, enthralling situations and a general love of romantic fiction, Lauren has created a world of her own, full of wit and sensual desire.


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