ARC Reviews

19/08/2019

I Hate You, by Ilsa Madden-Mills. Sports Romance Release, Excerpt & Giveaway.

Title: I Hate You
Author: Ilsa Madden-Mills
Genre: Enemies-to-Lovers Football Romance
Release Date: August 19, 2019
Blaze Townsend: I hate you.
Charisma Rossi: I hate you more. 
She’s been expecting this ever since their latest showdown. She had good reason.
Hottest guy she’s ever seen.
Former fling.
Dumped her in front of her friends.
At her own party.
So no, she’s not about to forgive and forget just because he sits next to her in class.
He thinks all he has to do is turn on those baby blues, and she’ll melt right back into his arms. Please. She’d be crazy to let this cocky player affect her again. (Tell that to her body.)
Charisma Rossi.
Nerd girl with a dash of bad.
The one who got under his skin.
The one he cut loose.
Blaze knows she’s the riskiest prospect at Waylon University, but none of the interchangeable girls he hooks up with have ever made him feel the way she did. There’s absolutely no way he can have the girl and the game.
So why can’t he stop trying to win her back?
Can this wide receiver score the girl or will he make the biggest fumble of his life?


Signed Paperback Giveaway click here

“Need some help?”

I’m on my tiptoes when the question comes, trying to reach a book on the top shelf in the bookstore at the student center. 

My heart does a nosedive off a cliff as that familiar gruff voice washes over me, his accent a smooth drawl that’s reminiscent of hot summer nights and slow kisses—kisses we never had…well, except for that one time freshman year. 

I ignore him and try to grab the book.

“You’re too short. Let me,” Blaze says, this time closer, his voice soft.

I ease back on my feet and whip around, internally wishing I’d worn something more I hate you and don’t you wish you still had me, but sadly, I’m not in my kickass shoes and itchy dress. Today it’s flat-soled red Converse, black joggers, and a Yankees sweatshirt. I blow at a piece of hair in my face. Shit.

Of course, he looks magnificent in a tight long-sleeved black shirt that clings to his broad chest and tapered jeans molded to those leg muscles. His face is unshaven, the darkness on his jawline adding a broody look.

Curse him and his hotness. 

I stare at him a little too long, until I snap out of it.

“I don’t need help,” My voice is strangled as I move to brush past him—forget the textbooks—but he reaches out and takes my elbow.

“Charisma—”

His fingers are a hot brand on my skin—it’s the first time we’ve touched in three months—and I pull away. A tremble starts in my legs. How dare he? It was one thing to see him in a social setting and pretend I was fine, but when we’re face to face without people watching… “Don’t put your hands on me. I’m not your hookup anymore, football player.”

His face reddens, and he drops his arms. “I didn’t mean—” he stops, not finishing as he studies my face.

I wonder what he sees. You know what he sees, Charisma—someone who wasn’t up to his usual standards.

Everything I didn’t say last night rushes out. “Didn’t mean to what? Dump me in the middle of my own sorority’s party in front of all my friends and half of campus? And you know, that’s totally fine. We both knew I wasn’t enough to keep your attention.” 

His jaw clenches and he frowns, his brow furrowing. “I didn’t plan for things to happen that way.”

“How did you want to break up with me? Over candlelight? A text would have worked just fine,” I bite out.

The silence builds between us, and he watches me intently, as if trying to figure me out. He starts at my hair and works his way down to my feet, then comes back to my face. Just when I think I might combust from the intensity of his eyes, he looks away. 

“What?” I cock my hip. “You look like you want to say something.”

He taps his hand against his leg. Ice-blue eyes, ones I used to stare into and get butterflies from, glitter down at me. “You just can’t handle that I ended things, sweetheart.”

“Not your sweetheart.” 

“Never were.”

Shit…shit…my heart feels like an anvil just landed on it, heavy and hard, and I can’t breathe for a second at his words, part of me pissed, the other part devastated. I wanted to be his sweetheart, I did, but he…

You’re not my type. 

“Thanks for the reminder,” I say quietly, my anger folding away piece by piece and slipping into that horrible self-pity I despise. 

He closes his eyes and scrubs his face with those talented hands, strong and big and capable, skillful with a football. 

He steps in front of me, much like he did last night, and I tilt my head back to take him in. At my height of five feet, three inches, it’s hard to glare at a guy who towers over you and not look ridiculous, but I manage—until his eyes flicker with lingering emotion. 

I dart my eyes around the store, searching for a way out, but I’m stuck between him and a bookshelf. “You’re blocking my path.” I focus on his legs. No sexiness there—well, except for the tight muscles under that denim. 

“This is what I know,” he says in a low voice, ignoring my statement. “You told me we were just messing around. You set all the rules. Isn’t that how you operate? So why does me ending things with you even matter?”

“You never asked for more. You could have.” The revealing words fall around us, tinged with hurt, and I want to pull them back. 

The silence between us crackles, yet I’m aware of other people around us. There are a few girls on another aisle, and I glance over as one of them pulls out her phone. No doubt she’s taking a picture of him. Part of me retreats, anxious she’ll get me in that photo—a girl who clearly doesn’t belong. He doesn’t notice. Everyone knows who he is, and they’re probably wondering why he’s talking to me. 

“No, I didn’t,” he finally says, the words taut as if pulled from him unwillingly. He taps his leg, his tell that he’s anxious or angry. We weren’t together long, but every moment we spent together, I studied him like a wine connoisseur given a glass of rare cabernet. I know what makes him laugh, usually random things that make no sense. I know that groan he makes deep in this throat when he slides inside me, like he’s home. I know the feel of his hand when he cups my face and stares at me, a hesitant expression on his face—

“You can’t even look at me anymore. I wonder why,” he says, his voice a challenge. 

Steeling myself, I face those baby blues. “You know why. I wish we’d never met up last fall. I wish you’d never flirted with me. I wish I’d never fucked you that first time in the library—”

“Same page. Same fucking page, Charisma.” And then he’s walking away, broad shoulders swaying as he stalks down the aisle…
Wall Street Journal, New York Times, and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills is best known for her angsty new adult romances and romantic comedies.
Eight of her eleven novels have placed in the Amazon Top 10 Best-seller List: Dirty English #1; Fake Fiancée and I Dare You #2; I Bet You, Filthy English, and Very Bad Things #6; Boyfriend Bargain #8; The Last Guy, her collaboration with Tia Louise, #4. 
A former high school English teacher, she adores all things Pride and Prejudice, and of course, Mr. Darcy is her ultimate hero. 
She's addicted to frothy coffee beverages, cheesy magnets, and any book featuring unicorns and sword-wielding females. Feel free to stalk her online.
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Aiden (The Grim Sinner's Motorcycle Club) by LeAnn Ashers. MC Romance Release.

Title: Aiden
Series: The Grim Sinner's Motorcycle Club
Author: LeAnn Ashers
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: August 19, 2019
Cover Photog: Wander Aguiar
Cover Model: Issac Dawson
From the day she came into my life, I knew I couldn’t walk away from this girl. She was beautiful, a light in this dark and messed up world, but I saw it in her eyes. 
I saw the pain she carried, and in that moment, I made a promise. 
Her demons would pay. All of them. They didn’t know what I was capable of or what my MC could do.
As I now look down at yet another lifeless body, I smile. I always keep my promises. 
One more to go, and he’s the one I really want. 
And he knows I’m coming for him…
“LeAnn Ashers always delivers a story that is endlessly sweet with women as bad@$# as their men and she definitely brought that with Aiden. This book will have you crying happy tears, full-on swooning and will most definitely be stealing your heart.” – Brittany, Red Hatter Book Blog
“Aiden and Gracie what a beautiful yet heartbreaking story, like all LeAnn's books, It just pulls you in and doesn’t let you go till you have well and truly finished. There will be tears, excitement, laughter, anger and wanting to beat the shit out people. It gives you all those feels.” – Karlie, Goodreads
“This is by far my favorite book by Leann to date. This book hit all my emotions. Aiden & Gracie were prefect together, & believe me, when you find out how they met, :swoon:. Never a dull moment when you have both MCs in one place, always great to see old friends. This series is always evolving & each one is perfection. It was a powerful book & I think will touch many people. You’re incredibly brave, lady!” – Sarah Armstrong, Goodreads
“Just finished reading. I relate to this book probably more than the others and let me just say Leann Asher outdid herself on this one... don’t know how that’s possible because I didn’t think she could get any better but she knocked it out of the park with this one. It had a little bit of everything in there. I cried, I laughed, I LOVED!!!” – Jackie, Goodreads
“Gracelyn.” He is looking at me in such a tender and beautiful way. “I would never hurt you, trust me.” He whispers the last part.
“I trust you, Aiden.” I touch the side of his face and, to show that I do, I sit up and take off my shirt. I don’t have a bra on.

“I will fucking cherish your trust, baby. Let me love you. I know you’re scared, I can see it in your eyes, but being afraid of me is something you never have to be. I will protect you, cherish you, and take care of you.”
With the back of my hand, I wipe the tears off my face. I know I seem like such a baby, but being hurt by the person who is supposed to protect you more than any other—it hurts right to your core. I’ve been failed by so many people, and I expect it from everyone.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper, feeling this from the bottom of my heart.
He looks genuinely shocked. “Don’t ever fucking say that. You deserve the fucking world, baby, and I plan on handing it to you.”
LeAnn Ashers is a blogger-turned-author who spends her days reading and writing. She released her debut novel early 2016, and can't wait to see where this adventure continues to take her. LeAnn enjoys writing about strong-minded females and swoon-worthy, protective alpha males who love their women unconditionally.
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