Showing posts with label Rachel Van Dyken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rachel Van Dyken. Show all posts

Tuesday, 4 October 2016

The Bachelor Auction by Rachel Van Dyken RELEASE BLITZ!




Are you ready to Meet Brock Wellington?
The Bachelor Auction is NOW AVAILABLE!
Amazon US  **  Amazon UK  **  iBooks  **  B&N  **  Kobo  **  GooglePlay



Blurb
Jane isn't entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start, but didn't she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding, entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in sight. Until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering if princes---or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire---maybe do exist.
Except Brock Wellington isn't anyone's dream guy. Hell, a prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder. Or act like an arrogant jerk---even if it was just a façade. Now, as Brock is waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it's karmic retribution that he's tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can't have. But while they can't have a fairy-tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy . .



★★★★★
I was pleasantly surprised by The Bachelor Auction, it isn’t at all what I was expecting and I really didn’t think I’d love it as much as I did. 

Ok so I need to say this before I get any further... I LOVE BROCK AND JANE, like serious amounts, they are honestly epic and I loved seeing how they reacted and behaved around each other from chapter to chapter. Brock’s brothers, Bentley and Brant, are hilarious, there weren’t many scenes they were in that didn’t have me crying with laughter, Jane’s sisters however are the complete opposite, they were definitely my love to hate characters and when I was laughing it was at them, not with them. The Wellington brothers all have very different personalities and unique traits that have already got me hooked on all three of them, I really can’t wait for more from this series! I had mixed emotions toward Brock’s grandfather, Charles, as The Bachelor Auction is told from both Brock and Jane’s POVs you get to see him from both of their perspectives and he’s definitely one of those characters where you can just tell from the start that there is more going on beneath the surface.

The story is full of a fairy tale worthy love and magic, humour and a good mix of sweet and sexy moments. I think my favourite bits were at the ranch because of the animals and the twins... They just add a unique element of humour and because of them and the surroundings you get to see a totally different side of Brock. All in all I thought it was a beautiful story full of laughs and that unique something that is totally Rachel, another great start to a promising series!



About the Author:
Rachel.jpg
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
THANK YOU!
TRSOR_PROMOTIONS.jpg

Thursday, 22 September 2016

The Bachelor Auction by Rachel Van Dyken EXCERPT REVEAL!


Excerpt
“Bentley!” Brock barked and shook his head.
“What?” Bentley shrugged then smoothly walked over to Jane and pulled out a box of black high-heeled pumps in a size eight and a half. “Your foot, milady?”
Brock rolled his eyes. “Give it a rest, Bentley. She can put on her own damn shoes.”
Bentley completely ignored him. “I love a woman’s foot.” He grabbed Jane’s broken shoe and tossed it to the side while his hands danced along the arch of her foot. His fingertips danced along her skin. Seduction by foot rub? That was new.
“It’s sexy, the arch.” He leaned over her, his lips parting just enough to give her the impression he was thinking about kissing her. “The curve of a woman’s foot reminds me of her body…see? Sexy.” He slid the shoe on a very terrified looking Jane and stood. “Perfect fit.”
Jane’s mouth opened then closed as a rosy flush crept over her face. “Th-thank you.”
“I bought you my favorite brand.”
Her eyebrows arched. How did he know about Manolo Blahnik? “Oh.” And then she nodded and said loudly, “Ohhhh! That makes sense!”
Bentley’s eyes narrowed. “Me buying women’s shoes?”
“You wearing them,” she explained. “That’s great. I mean, good for you. I’m sorry I’m so awkward at things like this, but it’s good you’re…you know…” She bobbed her head and sputtered. “Out and…comfortable with it.”
“Out?” Bentley repeated. “I’m confused.”
“Of the closet,” she said slowly then saw the scowl on Bentley’s face. “Or maybe you just like to dress like a woman?” She straightened her shoulders and tried again. “In either case, congratulations on your choice to wear women’s clothing!”
Brock about died laughing as Bentley’s horrified expression went from stunned to genuine confusion.
“You heard her.” Brock held his laughter in check. “Congratulations, brother. I’ll take care of the press release: Bachelor Playboy Bentley Wellington and his private women’s shoe collection.”
Bentley let out a strangled laugh. “Yes, and while we’re at it why don’t we remind the press that the clock is ticking on that auction of yours? Hmm?”
“Auction?” Jane asked.
“Don’t.” Brock shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
“But she probably already does.” Bentley pointed out. “Unless she doesn’t read the news…?”
They both stared at her, waiting for an answer.
“I, uh…” She ducked her head, blushing again. “I read books.”
“How pure.” Bentley smiled and sat down next to her. “And just so we’re clear.” He leaned in as though he was going to kiss her. “My bat only swings one way…and I can assure you, every time I get thrown a pitch, I hit it out of the park.”

Are you ready to Meet Brock Wellington?
THE BACHELOR AUCTION by Rachel Van Dyken
 is coming October 4!
Pre-Order your copy today!
Amazon US  **  Amazon UK  **  iBooks  **  B&N  **  Kobo  **  GooglePlay

Blurb
Jane isn't entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start, but didn't she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding, entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in sight. Until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering if princes---or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire---maybe do exist.
Except Brock Wellington isn't anyone's dream guy. Hell, a prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder. Or act like an arrogant jerk---even if it was just a façade. Now, as Brock is waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it's karmic retribution that he's tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can't have. But while they can't have a fairy-tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy . .
About the Author:

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
THANK YOU!
TRSOR_PROMOTIONS.jpg

Wednesday, 1 June 2016

Empire by Rachel Van Dyken BLOG TOUR!

Empire 0 days   empire smash cover art

I have lost everything. 
My purpose
My love 
My soul
Death knocks on my door, I want to answer, but every time I reach for the handle -- the promise I made her brings me back. 
So I breathe. 
I live. 
I hate. 
And I allow the anger to boil beneath the surface of a perfectly indifferent facade. I am broken, I don't want to be fixed.
But the Empire is crumbling and it's my job to fix it. 
My job to mend the pieces that were scattered over thirty years ago. 
A trip to New York, only one chance to redeem a lost part of our mafia family. 
The only issue is, the only way to fix it, is to do something I swore I'd never do again. 
An arranged marriage. 
Only this time,
I won't fall. 
Or so help me God, I will kill her myself. 
My name is Sergio Abandonoto, you think you know my pain, my suffering, my anger, my hate?
You have no idea.
I am the mafia. 
I am the darkness. 
Blood in. No out.

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / AMAZON AU / AMAZON CA / B&N / iBOOKS / KOBO

    The loving couple in the rain  

EXCERPT


“Taxi.” I held up my hand. “It’s too cold to walk.”
“Is it?”
“For those of us who have hearts,” I said under my breath.
He paused and then burst out laughing. “Holy shit, was that a dig at me?”
I shrugged as the taxi pulled up.
“Damn, and you’re not even apologizing.”
“It was more of a passing comment under my breath…” I got into the taxi and slid across the cold, worn vinyl seat. “But true.”
Sergio slammed the door after him. “And here I thought I was making a good impression.”
“You offered to kill me if I kissed you.”
The taxi driver frowned into the rearview mirror.
“She’s kidding,” Sergio reassured him.
I refused to let him get off that easy. “You also look at me like you want to throw up.”
Mr. Taxi Driver’s nostrils flared.
“Uh.” Sergio laughed uncomfortably. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“The wife.”
Taxi Driver’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. Yeah, this was probably the best entertainment he’d had all day.
“I don’t talk about it,” Sergio said in a drop-the-subject voice.
“Maybe you should.”
“I have enough money to afford a therapist, thank you,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Money doesn’t buy happiness,” I fired back.
Sergio released a string of pithy curses. “Did someone spike your milk this morning during show and tell?”
“Lactose intolerant.”
“Sorry. Your Kool-Aid.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s like you’re trying to piss me off.”
Bingo. I smiled. “Funny, that’s what Dante says to me all the time. Just think of all the things you get to look forward to. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”
Sergio looked ready to strangle me. “No. I don’t believe I asked for an annoying little sister, but if that’s what you’re offering, please don’t let me stop you. Just know, I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee if you get out of hand.”
The minute the words left his mouth. I froze.
He froze.
The taxi driver stared little laser-like holes into the rearview mirror.
And Sergio leaned toward me.
I swallowed as tension swirled around us.
He gripped me by the chin and turned my head to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s like you have a death wish.”
“You wouldn’t do it.”
He pulled back as both of his eyebrows shot up, and then he looked down, like something had caught his eye.
I followed the direction of his gaze and let out a little gasp as a gun dug into my stomach.
“It’s been directed at you for the last four minutes,” Sergio said through a practiced smile. “I meant what I said. Listen well. I keep my word. Kiss me, and blood will be spilled.”
“Y-you’re a crazy person!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “And I wasn’t going to kiss you!”
“Sure you weren’t.” He put the gun away. “Good talk though, right? Oh look, the movie theater.”
To say that I scrambled out of the car like a kid running away from her kidnapper would be a gross understatement, but the minute my feet hit the pavement, I paused.
My body told me to run.
The guy had pulled a gun.
On me.
I didn’t even watch violent movies, I’d just panicked and said the first thing that popped into my head!
And I was about to go to the theater with a guy who probably showered in blood on a daily basis and by the looks of it — got off on it.
Shivering, I forced myself to take a deep breath and wrapped my jacket tighter around my body.
That was the thing about men like Sergio, or maybe just loyalty in general. He’d promised he would keep me safe, but I wondered if that promise was only extended until I was more trouble than I was worth.
I was safe, not because of what I was to him.
But because of who my dad had been to him.
I was nothing.
And yet, a part of me still yearned to be… something.
Anything really.
Pathetic.
“Change your mind?” Sergio’s smooth voice interrupted my thoughts. He was the type of man you felt even when he wasn’t speaking. His presence was impossible to ignore, kind of like his ridiculous good looks.
Weren’t mafia guys supposed to be old?
Fat?
Chain smokers who bought Cuban cigars and sat behind large desks while counting money and ordering hits on people who pissed them off?
“No.” I finally found my voice. “I was just thinking….”
“About?” His hand touched my back, ushering me forward, but not pushing, almost as if he was giving me the option of still saying no.
I increased my pace so that I couldn’t feel the warmth of his fingertips. “Popcorn.” I turned and winked, hoping it would hide the fact that my body was shaking.
Maybe I was the crazy one.
Because he was armed.
The man was armed.
And he had no qualms about pointing his weapon at me whenever I got too close.
Huh, we’d have a happy marriage.
I guess we’d never argue, since I liked living.
And, you know, breathing.
It would suck not to make my twenty-first birthday because I didn’t fold the towels just right.
And again, I froze.
Was he that neurotic? Or was it just the closeness?
“On a scale of one to ten…” I was proud of the way I kept the shaking out of my voice. Why was I so scared? Oh right, because he’d pointed a gun, no, shoved a freaking gun into my stomach and done it with a smile on his face. “How OCD are you?”
An easy laugh escaped him as he glanced around the movie theater lobby and then back at me. “What makes you think I’m OCD?”
“Things.” I gulped then forced a smile that I didn’t feel. How was I supposed to go through an entire movie knowing he was one uncomfortable conversation away from losing it? “So?”
“What can I get you?” A teen boy looked at Sergio then smiled wider when his eyes fell to me.
Immediately, Sergio wrapped a protective arm around me, basically forcing my body to curve into his warmth. “My wife and I will have two buckets of popcorn, two packs of Sour Patch Kids, and a bottled water.”
I didn’t correct him about the water.
“Wait.” Sergio held up his hand. “Sorry, Dr. Pepper mixed with Coke.”
The teen scrunched up his face then rung us up. His eyes fell to me again then back at the register, like he was trying not to look but couldn’t help it, which was comical, since I didn’t really think I was anything to look at.
When he handed Sergio back his change I could have sworn I heard a growl from my “husband.”
As it was, he jerked the candy so hard out of the kid’s hands that I was surprised he didn’t do a front flip over the counter.
“He’s a boy,” I whispered under my breath. “No need to shoot him too.”
Sergio glanced down at me, muttered a curse. “He was staring.”
“He looked about one science project away from solving world hunger via his mom’s basement… hardly the type of guy that I’d date.”
“Date?” Sergio said it so loudly the people in front of us waiting to show the attendant their tickets jumped and then turned around. “What the hell do you mean date?”
Crap. I’d messed up again.
My palms went sweaty while my face felt numb with fear. Regardless of how pretty he was to look at — I was finally fully aware of how dangerous he was to me.
To everyone around me.
Sweat trickled down my lower back as I gulped down more soda and shrugged. “I just mean, he’s not my type.”
“No shit he isn’t, because you don’t get a type anymore.”
“Right.” I licked my lower lip, pretending not to be scared, pretending to be the brave person I wasn’t was wearing on me.
By the time we made it into the theater I was dizzy.
It was too much all at once.
“So…” Sergio’s voice was in my ear. I jumped a foot. He frowned as if he couldn’t figure out why I’d be so jumpy. “Dante sits behind you, right?”
“Right.” I exhaled in relief. I forgot. It wasn’t a date. It was a challenge. He’d called me his sister, so therefore he was my brother, right? Hah. I relaxed a bit as I pointed to a seat a few rows back and quickly stole the goodies out of his hands then made my way to my own seat before he could object.
The credits started rolling.
And I found myself ducking in the chair.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
As if I was being watched — because I was.
Ten minutes into the movie, I was so stressed out, I almost burst into tears. My back was to him.
Wasn’t that a big no-no? My back was to the dude with the gun.
Even though he was supposed to protect me with the gun, all bets were off now.
Sweat pooled in the palms of my hands.
The music rose as one of the actresses ran down the stairs screaming.
I couldn’t take it.
And then, a body sat down next to me.
Sergio gave me a suspicious look then put a seat between us.
I exhaled.
But it wasn’t relief.
At least I knew where he was.
And where the gun was, he was right handed, so there was that.
I finally allowed myself to relax enough to watch the movie when I saw Sergio’s right hand duck into his jacket.
I gripped the plastic arm rests, my fingers digging into the cheap sticky plastic material as he slowly pulled something out.
He turned.
And I flinched so hard that there was no mistaking what I thought he was doing.
Even though he had grabbed a black cell phone.
The damage was done.
My entire body shook as a big fat tear escaped, I tried to wipe it away but I wasn’t fast enough.
“S-sorry.” I shoved past him and ran.
But my body was too scared.
Too tired
To make it very far.




★★★★★

If you haven’t read Elude then you really need to before you pick up Empire and because Sergio’s story is very much a 2 part thing I’m going to have to keep this very vague so there are no spoilers from either book!

Sergio is easily the most complex one out of all the Elite guys... I don’t know if it’s because he’s a hacker or what it is really, but out of all of them he is the one that I find the most unpredictable, not even Nixon shocks me as much as Sergio does and that’s saying something! My feelings toward Sergio have changed so many times over the course of the series but one thing that I have always been able to say with certainty is that there’s something special about those Abandonato men ;) Nixon will always be my favourite but I think after Empire Sergio is a close second, I just seem to have seen him in a different light.

One of my favourite parts of the book was having a couple of chapters in Frank’s POV, it’s one thing seeing him around all the younger guys but it’s something else entirely getting glimpses of how his mind works, he can be a scary dude at times. There are so many new faces, all of them pretty great in their own right and I was honestly prepared for none of them, and all of you Eagle Elite lovers will be pleased to know that all the familiar faces are in it throughout and up to their usual tricks.

Like the previous books in this series I was barraged with emotions, seriously you name it I’ve felt it with this series and I thought that there was nothing else that they could draw out of me, but with Empire I found another level of emotions that I wasn’t ready for and I often had to sit back to just process, it was mind blowing. The balance between the humour and the seriousness was perfect for me, it could have very quickly became too much either way but somehow Rachel managed to keep that ratio spot on. Once again I’m in awe of this author, with this series she has taken the Mafia, something that shouldn’t have an ounce of beauty in it, and given each character, book and story a unique twist that makes it beautiful. Thank you for this series Rachel, each character has found a place in my heart that is just for them and I can say with certainty that they will stay with me forever.


Get the beginning of Sergio's story in Elude

elude 
Twenty-Four hours before were were to be married--I offered to shoot her. Ten hours before our wedding--I made a mockery of her dying wish. Five hours before we were going to say our vows--I promised I'd never love her. One hour before I said I do--I vowed I'd never shed a tear over her death. But the minute we were pronounced man and wife--I knew. I'd only use my gun to protect her. I'd give my life for hers. I'd cry. And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl--a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place. I always believed the mafia would be my end game--where I'd lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption. Or the beginning of something beautiful. The beginning of her. The end of us.

AMAZON / iBOOKS / NOOK

rachelborder  Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com. FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE / NEWSLETTER

Tuesday, 31 May 2016

Empire by Rachel Van Dyken RELEASE DAY BLITZ!!

Empire 0 days
  
empire smash cover art

I have lost everything. 
My purpose
My love 
My soul
Death knocks on my door, I want to answer, but every time I reach for the handle -- the promise I made her brings me back. 
So I breathe. 
I live. 
I hate. 
And I allow the anger to boil beneath the surface of a perfectly indifferent facade. I am broken, I don't want to be fixed.
But the Empire is crumbling and it's my job to fix it. 
My job to mend the pieces that were scattered over thirty years ago. 
A trip to New York, only one chance to redeem a lost part of our mafia family. 
The only issue is, the only way to fix it, is to do something I swore I'd never do again. 
An arranged marriage. 
Only this time,
I won't fall. 
Or so help me God, I will kill her myself. 
My name is Sergio Abandonoto, you think you know my pain, my suffering, my anger, my hate?
You have no idea.
I am the mafia. 
I am the darkness. 
Blood in. No out.

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / AMAZON AU / AMAZON CA / B&N / iBOOKS / KOBO

    The loving couple in the rain  

EXCERPT

Sergio looked ready to strangle me. “No. I don’t believe I asked for an annoying little sister, but if that’s what you’re offering, please don’t let me stop you. Just know, I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee if you get out of hand.” The minute the words left his mouth. I froze. He froze. The taxi driver stared little laser like holes into the rearview mirror. And Sergio leaned toward me. I swallowed as tension swirled around us. He gripped me by the chin and turned my head to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s like you have a death wish.” “You wouldn’t do it.” He pulled back as both of his eyebrows shot up, and then he looked down, like he had spotted something. I followed the direction of his gaze and let out a little gasp as a gun dug into my stomach. “It’s been directed at you for the last four minutes,” Sergio said through a practiced smile. “I meant what I said. Listen well. I keep my word. Kiss me, and blood will be spilled.” “Y-you’re a crazy person!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “And I wasn’t going to kiss you!” “Sure you weren’t.” He put the gun away. “Good talk though, right? Oh look, the movie theater.” To say that I scrambled out of the car like a kid running away from her kidnapper would be a gross understatement, but the minute my feet hit the pavement, I paused. My body told me to run. The guy had pulled a gun. On me. I didn’t even watch violent movies.

Get the beginning of Sergio's story in Elude

elude 

 Twenty-Four hours before were were to be married--I offered to shoot her. Ten hours before our wedding--I made a mockery of her dying wish. Five hours before we were going to say our vows--I promised I'd never love her. One hour before I said I do--I vowed I'd never shed a tear over her death. But the minute we were pronounced man and wife--I knew. I'd only use my gun to protect her. I'd give my life for hers. I'd cry. And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl--a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place. I always believed the mafia would be my end game--where I'd lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption. Or the beginning of something beautiful. The beginning of her. The end of us.

AMAZON / iBOOKS / NOOK

rachelborder  Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com. FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE / NEWSLETTER

Sunday, 10 April 2016

The Matchmaker's Playbook by Rachel Van Dyken BOOK TOUR!!!

   


VanDyken-TheMatchmakersPlaybook-21818-CV-FT-v5
Wingman rule number one: don’t fall for a client.After a career-ending accident, former NFL recruit Ian Hunter is back on campus—and he’s ready to get his new game on. As one of the masterminds behind Wingmen, Inc., a successful and secretive word-of-mouth dating service, he’s putting his extensive skills with women to work for the lovelorn. But when Blake Olson requests the services of Wingmen, Inc., Ian may have landed his most hopeless client yet.From her frumpy athletic gear to her unfortunate choice of footwear, Blake is going to need a miracle if she wants to land her crush. At least with a professional matchmaker by her side she has a fighting chance. Ian knows that his advice and a makeover can turn Blake into another successful match. But as Blake begins the transformation from hot mess to smokin’ hot, Ian realizes he’s in danger of breaking his cardinal rule…

Ian and Lex's Rules of Play

1. Jealousy is key when trying to get noticed by a dude. No girl ever got her guy by hanging out by the potted plants or doing the dishes in the kitchen. 
2. Smile. Often. Smiling makes dickheads automatically assume you've got a secret--and damn, do guys love discovering secrets. 
3. Never call. Always text. 
4. If he calls you, answer on the third ring, but only after he's called you three times. 
5. The rule of three pertains to every situation, answering in person, the length of time you touch a body part (unless it’s down below, but you shouldn't be doing that at this point unless you're a psycho), the length of time you take to answer the door, the point is this, you have to pause, breathe, stare, and then answer. If you're doing it any other way. You're doing it wrong. 
6. I don't care if he's serenading you with Taylor Swift and it’s just like absolutely OMGEE your most favorite song, holy shit he brought coke zero? I LOVE COKE ZERO. No. Hell no. You don't cave. It’s been one day. You do not cave on day one. On day one. You plan. 
7. You are NEVER to be so interested in them right off the bat that you're willing to cancel plans, according to them, you're always busy damn it, why can't they just catch a break? 
8. Walk away, never toward. I don't give a flying shit that he's wearing your favorite shirt and holding a monkey on his head, smile, wave, walk the other way. The only time you walk toward is if the douche needs medical attention and even then...if he's gonna live, so will you.
9. It’s not about you. I know, I know, you're just so pissed about Shelly and how she gave you a bitchy look during chem, but control yourself. It’s about him, ask him questions, in return, he will ask you. This. Is. Called. A. Conversation. 
10. Put your damn phone away. When you're in his space, you aren't on Facebook or tweeting about it, this is how you lose his attention and gain another cat. Toss the cell phone away or Wingmen Inc will very politely shove it up your ass. 

If the first ten rules are too difficult for you to comprehend, you probably aren't the client for us...because quite honestly...there are forty more, no chance in hell you'll get through them if you're already scowling. Buh-Bye.

★★★★★

I am absolutely floored by this authors talent... I have said on more than one occasion that she is a magician with words and that is once again my thoughts after reading The Matchmaker’s Playbook.

The Matchmaker’s Playbook is told entirely from Ian’s POV, in my experience the male POV can be quite hit or miss, it’s can be too much or not enough but I never once thought that with Ian, he is the perfect balance of sweet, sexy, funny and even arrogant, and Ian is really quite arrogant at times BUT it’s that hot kind of arrogance where you just can’t help but smile. Blake is so different from any leading female that I have come across, she is a total tomboy who couldn’t care less about what is fashionable or what people think about her she is definitely a unique character. The story is quite frankly brilliant! I love the whole concept actually, and the way Rachel has written it has brought it to life in a way I never expected.

I feel the need to mention two very crucial characters, Gabi and Lex... Gabi is Ian’s best friend and Blake’s room mate and Lex is Ian’s other best friend and his room mate... They are easily two of my favourite secondary characters EVER!!! They are just hilarious, I can’t tell you how many times I burst out laughing while reading this book but I can tell you that Gabi and Lex were responsible for at least a third of them.

Thank you for this truly epic read Rachel! I can’t wait for Lex’s story!!!!

EXCERPT 

Blake let out another pitiful groan. “I don’t think it fits.”
“They measured you. It fits. Just, tell me if it looks okay so we can go.” I checked my watch. “Gabi said dinner was at six, and it’s already a quarter till.”
“This is too much pressure.” Her voice was frantic. “I can’t do this. I mean, how do I know if it looks good? They’re boobs.”
I groaned. “Boobs always look good. Believe me.”
“Boobs are gross!”
Said no man ever. Even the gay ones.
One of the salesladies eyed me up and down. “Are you two okay?”
“Great,” I chirped. “Just having a very heated discussion about the beauty of breasts.” I dipped my chin to Blake’s chest. “What are you? A double D?”
Scowling, she marched off.
Thank God.
“Blake,” I hissed.
No answer.
I’d never had such a difficult client. If anything, they jumped when I told them to, asked how high, and then kept jumping until I was satisfied. Blake fought me at every turn.
“Open the door before I crawl underneath it. I’ll pick the bras, you can close your eyes if you want so you don’t have to watch me look at you, alright? My stomach literally just ate my liver. I need protein. Open. The. Door.”
The door slowly creaked open. Taking advantage of the small crack of air, I pushed it farther, then clicked it shut behind me and turned around.
Blake was facing me, hands on hips, face beet-red, body . . . freaking perfect. My tongue almost lolled out, like a dog.
Most girls starve themselves to have abs like that, which was disgusting. But her abs? They had muscle, actual muscle, but still appeared feminine.
She also had a nice tan, just enough to show that she spent time outside or maybe just had naturally darker skin. 
My throat went completely dry as I continued to stare.
“Well?” Her voice was weak. “How awful do I look? On a scale of one to ten?”
I’d convinced her to buy some new workout clothes to replace her old ones. I knew I’d never get her to actually completely change her style. She liked workout clothes? Fine, at least buy the kind that fit and actually point to the correct gender. I tried to steer her away from the boyfriend sweats and sweatshirts, but she eventually wore me down, so I told her if she bought at least five new Pink outfits that had spandex in them, I’d let her get one pair of ugly slouchy sweats. You’d think I’d just given her a million dollars, from her reaction.
Currently, she was sporting a short pair of bright-blue yoga shorts.
And a black push-up sports bra that did wonders for her boobs.
And the world just in general.
Holy shit.
I gulped as I became more and more irritated with the fact that my body was reacting as if it had never seen a girl without her shirt on before. “Blake, it’s great.”
“You sound bored!”
I had to, damn it! What did she want me to do? Sound interested? Turned-on? Intrigued? Curious? I was all those things. I just tried to ignorethe insanity bouncing around in my head and blurted, “Your boobs look really good. Perky, happy, just . . . awesome.”
Did I just call her boobs “happy”?
“You think?” She stared down at her breasts, then grabbed them.
Holy shit, was she seriously feeling herself up? I braced my hand against the door and sucked in a breath.
“They still feel comfortable,” she said.
“Do they?” I managed to choke out while she continued bouncing them a bit in her hands. Dear Lord, did she know what she was doing? Waving a flag in front of a bull. My jeans suddenly tight in all the wrong areas, I tried to envision Lex naked, anything to get my dick to clue in to the word “client,” meaning I was in a no-play zone.
Another first.
It was because I was hungry.
And Marissa? Melissa? Hadn’t satisfied me. I’d gotten off, and made sure she did too, but the entire experience left me feeling empty, bored, and—if I was being completely honest? A bit depressed. Besides, her tits paled in comparison. I had to wonder what the hell I’d been doing all my life if this was the first time I was having such a strong reaction to boobs.
Something about Blake had me wondering if I’d been satisfied at all up until this point. And I had no idea what the hell was so confusing about her, and about the situation. I was unable to put my finger on it, and the more I thought about it the more my head hurt.
Hunger does weird things to guys.
“Yeah.” More bouncing, then turning and staring in the mirror. I wasn’t sure what was worse. Her staring at her own boobs or touching them. “I’m just no good at this stuff. I didn’t grow up with a mom, and I hit puberty really early. The girls made fun of me, and the boys pointed.” Her shoulders slumped inward again.
Could we please go back to the bouncing? I was a fan of that Blake. The one that rolled up like an awkward armadillo? Not so much.


rachelborder
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.NEWSLETTER | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
   

   

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

The Matchmaker's Playbook by Rachel Van Dyken RELEASE DAY BLITZ!!

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VanDyken-TheMatchmakersPlaybook-21818-CV-FT-v5
Wingman rule number one: don’t fall for a client.After a career-ending accident, former NFL recruit Ian Hunter is back on campus—and he’s ready to get his new game on. As one of the masterminds behind Wingmen, Inc., a successful and secretive word-of-mouth dating service, he’s putting his extensive skills with women to work for the lovelorn. But when Blake Olson requests the services of Wingmen, Inc., Ian may have landed his most hopeless client yet.From her frumpy athletic gear to her unfortunate choice of footwear, Blake is going to need a miracle if she wants to land her crush. At least with a professional matchmaker by her side she has a fighting chance. Ian knows that his advice and a makeover can turn Blake into another successful match. But as Blake begins the transformation from hot mess to smokin’ hot, Ian realizes he’s in danger of breaking his cardinal rule…

ExcerptBlake let out another pitiful groan. “I don’t think it fits.”
“They measured you. It fits. Just, tell me if it looks okay so we can go.” I checked my watch. “Gabi said dinner was at six, and it’s already a quarter till.”
“This is too much pressure.” Her voice was frantic. “I can’t do this. I mean, how do I know if it looks good? They’re boobs.”
I groaned. “Boobs always look good. Believe me.”
“Boobs are gross!”
Said no man ever. Even the gay ones.
One of the salesladies eyed me up and down. “Are you two okay?”
“Great,” I chirped. “Just having a very heated discussion about the beauty of breasts.” I dipped my chin to Blake’s chest. “What are you? A double D?”
Scowling, she marched off.
Thank God.
“Blake,” I hissed.
No answer.
I’d never had such a difficult client. If anything, they jumped when I told them to, asked how high, and then kept jumping until I was satisfied. Blake fought me at every turn.
“Open the door before I crawl underneath it. I’ll pick the bras, you can close your eyes if you want so you don’t have to watch me look at you, alright? My stomach literally just ate my liver. I need protein. Open. The. Door.”
The door slowly creaked open. Taking advantage of the small crack of air, I pushed it farther, then clicked it shut behind me and turned around.
Blake was facing me, hands on hips, face beet-red, body . . . freaking perfect. My tongue almost lolled out, like a dog.
Most girls starve themselves to have abs like that, which was disgusting. But her abs? They had muscle, actual muscle, but still appeared feminine.
She also had a nice tan, just enough to show that she spent time outside or maybe just had naturally darker skin.
My throat went completely dry as I continued to stare.
“Well?” Her voice was weak. “How awful do I look? On a scale of one to ten?”
I’d convinced her to buy some new workout clothes to replace her old ones. I knew I’d never get her to actually completely change her style. She liked workout clothes? Fine, at least buy the kind that fit and actually point to the correct gender. I tried to steer her away from the boyfriend sweats and sweatshirts, but she eventually wore me down, so I told her if she bought at least five new Pink outfits that had spandex in them, I’d let her get one pair of ugly slouchy sweats. You’d think I’d just given her a million dollars, from her reaction.
Currently, she was sporting a short pair of bright-blue yoga shorts.
And a black push-up sports bra that did wonders for her boobs.
And the world just in general.
Holy shit.
I gulped as I became more and more irritated with the fact that my body was reacting as if it had never seen a girl without her shirt on before. “Blake, it’s great.”
“You sound bored!”
I had to, damn it! What did she want me to do? Sound interested? Turned-on? Intrigued? Curious? I was all those things. I just tried to ignorethe insanity bouncing around in my head and blurted, “Your boobs look really good. Perky, happy, just . . . awesome.”
Did I just call her boobs “happy”?
“You think?” She stared down at her breasts, then grabbed them.
Holy shit, was she seriously feeling herself up? I braced my hand against the door and sucked in a breath.
“They still feel comfortable,” she said.
“Do they?” I managed to choke out while she continued bouncing them a bit in her hands. Dear Lord, did she know what she was doing? Waving a flag in front of a bull. My jeans suddenly tight in all the wrong areas, I tried to envision Lex naked, anything to get my dick to clue in to the word “client,” meaning I was in a no-play zone.
Another first.
It was because I was hungry.
And Marissa? Melissa? Hadn’t satisfied me. I’d gotten off, and made sure she did too, but the entire experience left me feeling empty, bored, and—if I was being completely honest? A bit depressed. Besides, her tits paled in comparison. I had to wonder what the hell I’d been doing all my life if this was the first time I was having such a strong reaction to boobs.
Something about Blake had me wondering if I’d been satisfied at all up until this point. And I had no idea what the hell was so confusing about her, and about the situation. I was unable to put my finger on it, and the more I thought about it the more my head hurt.
Hunger does weird things to guys.
“Yeah.” More bouncing, then turning and staring in the mirror. I wasn’t sure what was worse. Her staring at her own boobs or touching them. “I’m just no good at this stuff. I didn’t grow up with a mom, and I hit puberty really early. The girls made fun of me, and the boys pointed.” Her shoulders slumped inward again.
Could we please go back to the bouncing? I was a fan of that Blake. The one that rolled up like an awkward armadillo? Not so much.

rachelborder
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.NEWSLETTER | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

   

 

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