Search This Blog

About me

Hi I'm Janna and I am a book whore! I started this blog after being a part of another for years. While being a big blog may be nice I like to stay true to me having a love for books, that's why I blog. I love books and I want to share that love with my readers of this blog. I love to read, books are my escape and a huge part of my life besides my husband and two children. I am honest and sometimes sassy in my reviews but never mean. Some of my favorite authors include Kristen Ashley, Penelope Douglas, T.M. Frazier, M.N. Forgy, Rachel Van Dyken, Meghan March and Vi Keeland to only name a few!

Please note that I am the ONLY reviewer on the blog beyond a few guest reviews. It has been brought to my attention that people not associated with my blog have been requesting ARCs please if you ever question a request please email me at the blog's email.


Friday, November 9, 2018

Blog Tour! One Week Hating You By Roya Carmen


Maeve is over the moon: life is good and she's about to get married to Peter. But when she loses her job and gets jilted at the altar, her world crumbles and she runs into her momma's arms.

She's back in her small hometown for a week, and she has a plan - make Peter insanely jealous and win him back. Enter Blake Taylor, the boy who broke her heart. She'd rather avoid him at all costs, but with his 'bad boy' good looks and their shared history, Blake is the perfect man for the job, as long as she can stand him long enough - it's just one week, after all.
She'll show Peter that she's not the sweet wallflower he thinks she is, and he'll come running back soon enough.
But when he does, will she still want him?
A second chance love hate story. 
So, I have been a weird mood as of late and it has affected my reading and blogging. I think we all know that our mental mood plays a part in the books we read and when we do or do not love some. One Week Hating You was okay, not bad but not great either. Now I blame my mood so I am just going to say this, while I usually love a second chance romance book, if there are too many cheesy moments, for me it takes away from the book. Sadly, I think there were too many cheesy moments.  I wanted to love this one but I ended up only liking. I won’t sit here and tear this book apart because honestly, this isn’t what is this book is about, but I can say that it didn’t work for me and being drawn out is one of the reasons I didn’t love it. Maybe when I am out of this weird mood I will try it again and keep in mind that I know it is my mood so don’t let that stop you from reading this one, as always form your own opinion.





“It’s complicated,” I try to explain.
“It’s not complicated,” he says. “We were just fucking, I get it. Parker’s the one you’re engaged to.” We’re trudging through his backyard and I’m suddenly taken back to so long ago, when we’d spend hours playing back here. The old tire swing still hangs from the large maple. That old shed is still standing, and so is the old swing set his dad built. His fishing boat sits in its usual spot.
I run after him again, and when I catch up to him, he takes me by surprise when he grabs my arm. “What do you want from me?”
“I…” My heart is pounding so hard. “I… I don’t know. I just want to make sure we’re all right. I don’t want to leave on a bad note.”
He pulls me to him and wraps his hands in my hair. He pulls at it as he draws me in closer, draws me in for a kiss. I get lost in him. I rub the palms of my hands against his neatly trimmed beard, savoring the taste of his mouth. I want him one last time. God, I want him.
He pulls away. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks, breathless. “Is this ending on a good note?”
I bury my hands in his hair and pull him back to me. I melt into him when he kisses me again. He grabs my ass and presses me hard against him. I want him to take me inside. I tear my mouth from his. “Take me to your room,” I beg. “Please.”
He trails a hand under the skirt of my dress, toys with my panties. “Nah…” he says.
My eyes grow wide, and my stomach feels like stone. He’s saying no.
“Nah,” he says. “Beds are for you and Parker. You and I… we just fuck, don’t we. Beds are not for us.” He pulls at the band of my panties, and with one swift pull, he slides them over the curve of my ass. I swallow and close my eyes. I let him do this, right in the middle of his backyard, where anyone can see us. I let him because it feels so good. I throw my head back when he slides his hand over my sex.
That’s when I grab onto his wrist and steady his hand. “We need to stop.”
“Why?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “Afraid Parker might see? Hey, why don’t you snap a pic for your Instagram, or are we not doing that anymore?”
I pull away from him but he’s quick to grab my arm. “Come with me,” he says, his voice soft. He takes my hand and leads me out back, towards the shed. I hike my panties back up with one hand and follow eagerly, not quite sure what he’s up to.
When we reach the shed, he swings the door open and pulls me in. He slams the door behind us, and we find ourselves in almost total darkness. It’s cold and damp. The full moon shines through the windows and gives us a bit of light. The small enclosed space is a mess; tools on one wall, lawnmower, tons of fishing gear, a stack of tires, and a table topped with bottles and cans. There’s barely standing room for the two of us. He spins me around and presses me against the door. It smells of peeling paint and rotten wood.
He presses his hot mouth on my neck. “Is this what you want?”
I throw my head back against his shoulder. “Yes…” I whisper, but it comes out as a moan, a desperate whimper.
“I’m going to give you the best fuck of your life.” He drops to his knees and buries his head under my skirt. He trails soft hot kisses up my legs as he slides my panties slowly down. “When you’re laying with Parker, in your fancy silky sheets, and he can’t make you come, you think about this.” His words melt into the flesh of my ass and my eyes roll into the back of my head.
I step out of my panties, one shaking leg at a time. “Yes…” I breathe.
He comes to a stand again and presses both his hands on either side of my head, holding me hostage. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
He pulls me hard against him, and before I can even think of what’s happening, I’m hiked up against him, and he’s inside me, one hand sliding down my clit. In mere seconds, he makes me come, and I know that he’s right.
I probably won’t ever be able to stop thinking about this. Remembering this. And wanting this.








Roya Carmen is a busy mom, romance writer, designer, bookworm, chocoholic, and hopeless romantic. There’s nothing she enjoys more than making up stories about love, and sharing them with her readers.
HOSTED BY:

No comments:

Post a Comment