The Rock Stars of Romance
  • Spotlights
  • Rock Report
  • New & Upcoming Releases
    • January, 2021
    • 2017 Releases
    • Featured Cover Reveal & Pre-orders
  • List of Services

Standalone Romantic Comedy:  Ball Peen Hammer by Lauren Rowe

7/25/2016

Comments

 
Ready the Pickles,  Keane Morgan is finally here
in Ball Peen Hammer by Lauren Rowe!  


Meet Keane in this STANDALONE romantic comedy in
an exciting excerpt, enter to win a SIGNED Paperback and be sure to pick up your copy of this witty new release! 


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.”


NOW LIVE!

Amazon US
Amazon UK
iBooks

Book Summary

Picture
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.

Teasers 
​(click on image for full view)

Meet Lauren Rowe

Picture
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.

GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Comments

Ball Peen Hammer by Lauren Rowe

7/7/2016

Comments

 
Ball Peen Hammer by Lauren Rowe is a sexy new romantic comedy
about a stripper with moves that will make you swoon!

This STANDALONE is smart, witty and requires no prior reading! 
Meet Keane in an excerpt & add this July 25th release to your TBR!



Excerpt

Keane looks around the small motel room while I sit in a rickety chair, watching him. He seems nervous, though I can’t imagine why. Isn’t this what he does for a living?
“There isn’t a lot of room to maneuver in here,” Keane says, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m not gonna be able to do most of my usual moves.”
            “No judgment here,” I say. “Just jiggle a little bit and I’m sure I’ll be duly impressed.”
            Keane rolls his eyes. “I don’t jiggle, Maddy. I dance.”
“Okay, gyrate. Writhe. Shake your booty. Whatever. I’m just saying I’m easy to please.”
Keane twists his mouth, still surveying the small space. “I can’t do any of my acrobatics or flips in here. This is gonna be pretty lame, actually.” He sighs. “And I’ll definitely have to use the bed for some stuff. Okay? Otherwise, there’s no place to maneuver.”
            I bite my lip, trying not to smile. “Do whatever you think is best,” I say. “I won’t know the difference. It’s my first lap dance, remember?”
            Keane furrows his eyebrows adorably. “Okay. But just so you know I’m usually way more exciting than what you’re about to see.”
            I purse my lips and flare my nostrils, trying to keep a huge smile at bay. Why the heckity-heck does Keane seem so freaking nervous? “Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll mention the cramped performing space when I write my Yelp review.”
“Hang on.” Without warning, he leans over me, giving me a whiff of his delicious, soapy scent, grabs ahold of either side of my chair, and rotates me a quarter turn so I’m facing the length of the narrow “alley” between the beds and the dresser. “Okay, that’s better,” Keane says. “Gives me a little more room to work with.” He grabs a shirt from his duffel bag and throws it over the lamp on the nightstand, further dimming the already low lighting in the room. “Can I use your laptop to play some music?”
“Sure.” I motion to my computer on the bed and tell him the password.
After calling up something on my computer, Keane places the laptop onto the dresser to my left. “Press play on the song when I cue you,” he says.
“Yes, sir.”
Keane positions himself a few feet in front of me, his head bowed, his hands clasped in front of his crotch, his legs spread into an athletic stance, but before he can do anything else, I burst into a manic giggle.
Keane looks up. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I just realized I’ve paid a male stripper for a private lap dance in a motel room.” I snicker. “Okay. I’m good now. Proceed.” I exhale and shake out my arms.
After a beat, Keane puts his head down again, but then immediately raises his face to look at me again. “Picture colorful lights swirling around the room, okay?”
“Ooooh. Aaaaaaah. Pretty.”
Keane levels me with the most hilariously annoyed expression he’s ever flashed at me (which is saying a lot). “Are you gonna be sardonic this entire time, or can you at least try to act like a normal pickle with a dollar bill?”
“Sorry. I will most definitely relax and act like a normal pickle with a dollar bill, starting now.”
“Thank you.” He takes a deep breath, shakes out his arms, clasps his hands in front of his crotch again, and lowers his head. “Cue music,” he says.
I dutifully reach over to my computer and press play on the song Keane’s got cued up on YouTube: “Pony” by Ginuwine, of course.
The song begins blaring in the small room. But Keane doesn’t move. To the contrary, through the first familiar chords of the iconic song, Keane remains stock-still, apparently letting anticipation build the same way Channing Tatum did when he danced to this song in Magic Mike. And I must say his tactic is working like a charm: I’m transfixed.
But, still, Keane doesn’t move, other than to subtly flex the muscles on his forearms.
Finally, after a few bars of the song, Keane begins moving his hips and slowly touching his chest over the fabric of his tight black T-shirt—an understated move that most definitely piques my interest—and when the song reaches Ginuwine’s vocals, Keane’s magnificent body finally springs to animated life, jerking and gyrating to the beat of the music.
            Whoa. Hotness. I had no idea Keane could move like this. He’s as fluid as mercury.
            “Woohoo!” I scream. “Yeah, baby! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!”  
            Keane smirks at me, as if to say, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” He thrusts his pelvis in rapid succession and then glides back a step, his body shuddering.
            “Channing’s got nothing on you, baby!” I shout.
            Keane’s body is bending and twisting now, undulating like an upright worm along with the song.
“Yeah, baby!” I shout.
In one easy motion, Keane leans completely back, touches the ground with his fingertips, and then pops back up to standing.
            “Wow!” I scream.
            Keane’s suddenly on his hands in the tight space and then back on his feet, and then he’s dry humping the floor with jaw-dropping thrusts, much to my shrieking delight. Then he’s back on his feet, peeling off his T-shirt while thrusting his pelvis into the air like he’s in the throes of extremely rough sex. Holy hell, Keane’s sweatpants are riding so low on his hips, it’s a wonder they’re not falling off when he’s moving like that.
            “Woohoo!” I shriek, laughing gleefully.
            Keane throws his T-shirt onto the bed and shoots me a smolder so intense, my breathing hitches.
            “Sexy,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, though I’d intended to scream the word.
            In a flash, Keane’s standing over me as I sit in my chair, his body heat wafting over me. Right in time with the music, he picks my chair up off the ground with me in it, making me shriek, and then quickly releases my seat to the ground while holding my body up by my ass.
            I open my mouth to say, “Hey, I remember that from the movie,” but before I can get the words out, Keane’s got my thighs on his shoulders and my crotch in his face.
“Oh my . . .” is all I can manage to eek out as Keane shakes his head into my crotch like a voracious dog with a bone. But before I can say anything more, Keane’s strong arms are cradling my back and lowering me confidently onto the bed.
“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Wow.”
In a flash, Keane’s on top of me, his forearms resting on either side of my head, his pelvis dry-humping me to the beat of the song.
“Whoa. At least buy me a drink first, big guy,” I say.
Keane flips me onto my stomach and, an instant later, his pelvis is driving into my ass in cadence with the sexy music.
            “Okay, now I’m gonna need dinner and dessert,” I say.
            Keane exhales from behind me and stops moving. After a beat, he flips me over onto my back and straddles me with his strong thighs, his knees on either side of my hips, his sweatpants riding low. “Are you not feeling this at all?” he asks, his breathing labored.
“Oh,” I say, taken aback. I feel my cheeks blush a deep crimson. “Am I supposed to be reacting differently? I’m sorry.”
“No, I just mean . . .” He stares down at me for a long beat, his blue eyes blazing, his muscles tensing. “This isn’t turning you on at all?”
“Oh. Um. Of course, it is. I mean, you’re gorgeous. Look at you. And your smoove mooves are amazing. I especially liked that back-door-action simulation.”
            There’s a long beat of silence as Keane stares at me, apparently rendered speechless.
Damn. I feel like I’m saying exactly the wrong thing here. “And, hey, you did that oral-sex simulation from the movie even better than Channing Tatum,” I add, filling the awkward silence.
Keane’s eyes are burning. Wordlessly, he grabs my hands and places them above my head on the bed, his eyes boring holes into my face like laser beams. But he doesn’t speak.
“Um,” I say. I swallow hard. Whoa, this is kinda hot all of a sudden. “And, um, when you ripped off your shirt,” I whisper, my heartbeat suddenly raging in my ears, “that part was really . . . ” I trail off, too flustered to finish my sentence. Wow, this is suddenly really, really hot.
Keane lets out a shaky breath but, still, he doesn’t speak. He slides his palms into mine and clasps my fingers. “That part was really what?” he finally asks softly, his eyes flickering with heat.
“Cool?”
Keane smirks. He releases my fingers and slides his palms out of mine, down past my wrists and forearms, over my armpits, all the way down to my ribcage, where he finally lets his hands come to a rest mere inches from my breasts.
I open my mouth to speak, thinking I should fill the silence between us, but I’m suddenly too overcome to form words. Every inch of the flesh Keane just touched is tingling like crazy. And I’m hyper-aware of the placement of his warm, strong hands on my body. If he moved them a mere inch, he’d be touching my breasts.
“Did I do anything at all to get your motor running?” Keane asks softly, his eyes locked with mine, his pelvis heavy on top of me.
I let out a long exhale to steady myself. I’m really not sure how to answer Keane’s question. Honestly, this thing he’s doing to me right now is getting my motor running ten times more than the actual “lap dance” he performed a few minutes ago.
When I don’t reply to his question, Keane slides his hands up from my ribcage—over my armpits, past the sensitive undersides of my arms, across my forearms and wrists—and into my palms again.
But he remains quiet.
Good God, what’s he doing to me? He’s wreaking havoc on my body with the simplest of touches.
Keane leans over me, his eyes burning like coals, his fingers intertwined in mine. “You weren’t feeling it at all?” he whispers.
 “Oh, no, I totally was,” I sputter. “It’s just that . . . um . . .” I begin. I take a deep breath, gathering myself. “When you did your whole stripper-thing, it felt like you were doing a Channing Tatum impression—like you were playing a character, rather than just being Keane.” I swallow hard. “And . . . um.” I shut my mouth. Keane’s begun gliding his hands from my palms down toward my torso again, and I’m too overcome with tingles to speak further.
“And . . ?” Keane coaxes as he runs his hands down and then back up my arms, his body hulking over mine.
My heart is pounding like a freakin’ jackhammer. And so is my crotch. What the heck is this shirtless boy doing to me, pinning me here on the bed and caressing my bare flesh like that? He’s turning me into a freakin’ pile of goo. “And . . .” I swallow hard again.
“Tell me,” Keane says.
Shoot. I really don’t think I should say the words on the tip of my tongue. Once I say them, I won’t be able to stuff them back in again, after all—and, as sexy as Keane is—and, damn, he’s most definitely sexy—I have no intention of nudging this friendship of ours outside the friend zone.
Or do I?
 “And . . ?” Keane prompts again, his face on fire.
I exhale a long, shaky breath. “And I think,” I begin, my tongue thick and clumsy in my mouth. “Um. It turns out . . . I think Keane Morgan is . . . much . . . sexier . . . than Ball Peen Hammer.” I take a deep breath. “Much, much sexier.”

Picture

Book Summary & TBR link

Picture
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.


Ball Peen Hammer releases on July 25th

Add Ball Peen Hammer to your TBR

Meet Lauren Rowe

USA Today and international 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 photos of her Boston terrier, Buster, spends time with her 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. To find out about Lauren’s upcoming releases and giveaways, sign up for Lauren’s emails atwww.LaurenRoweBooks.com or say hi to her on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram (@laurenrowebooks).

Comments

THE COMPLETE COLLECTION IS LIVE:  The Club Series by Lauren Rowe

1/15/2016

Comments

 
The Club Series by Lauren Rowe
READ THE COMPLETE COLLECTION!  
All Seven books are NOW LIVE!
​Meet the cast in two excerpts, enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card, & be sure to ONE-CLICK this HOT & SEXY Series!
Picture

Excerpt:  The Consummation

“I’ve got a present for you,” I coo as Josh lays me down on the bed.
“Oh yeah?” Josh pulls off his shirt, revealing his gloriously muscled and tattooed torso.
“Oh my God,” I say, ogling him.
Josh pulls down his pants and briefs, letting his straining donkey-dick spring free.
“Sweet Baby Jesus,” I blurt. “I feel like my clit’s a lawnmower and you just yanked its starter-cord.”
Josh smiles wickedly. “Oh, the things I’m gonna do to you, hot momma.” He advances on me like a panther.
“Wait. Close your eyes.”
Josh exhales like I’ve asked him to stop and change the oil in my car. “You’re killing me, Smalls,” he says.
“Close ’em, Playboy. I’ve got a surprise for you. It’ll take five seconds and then you can do whatever you please to me.”
Josh settles onto his knees next to me, his naked body taut, his erection massive. “You’ve got twenty seconds and then I can’t be held responsible for what this dick might do to you.”
I pull my sundress off, revealing my leopard-print-electric-blue bra and undies underneath, and carefully cover my hipbone with my palm.
“Okay,” I say. “Open.”
Josh opens his eyes. “Great surprise. You’re gorgeous. Now lie back.” He pushes me back gently.
“No, you fool,” I say. “I haven’t shown you the surprise yet.”
Josh exhales again.
“You ready?” I ask.
Josh motions to his straining dick in reply.
I bite my lip and remove my hand, revealing the temporary “tattoo” Sarah drew on my hip with a Sharpie pen while we watched About Time in the other room. “For you, Playboy,” I say, unveiling the famous Playboy-rabbit-head-logo drawn onto my hip. “I can’t get a tattoo while pregnant—apparently, there’s a risk of infection or whatever—but I finally figured out what I’m gonna do for my second tattoo after the baby’s born.”
Josh’s hard-on visibly twitches. “Aw, you’re gonna get a boyfriend tattoo?”
I nod.
Josh’s sapphire eyes smolder. “Sounds pretty serious, babe.”
“Oh, it is—as serious as it can be.”
Josh advances on me slowly, his taut muscles flexing, his hard-on huge, and slowly pushes me onto my back. He deftly removes my bra and, the minute my breasts bounce free, he buries his face into my cleavage and motorboats my boobs, making me giggle.
“I’ll be damned, your pretty titties might actually be getting a little bit bigger, babe,” he says.
I look down at myself. “Really?”
“Maybe. Lemme double check.” He takes my left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around.
I let out a soft moan.
“Yeah, definitely,” he says.

ONE-CLICK NOW

Teasers
(click on image for full view)


Excerpt: The Infatuation

“What does that mean? Are you jealous of Miss Blast from My Past?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course. Isn’t that what we’re doing here—playing the honesty-game ’til we both wanna bang our heads against a wall?”
She laughs. “Um... I’m more like envious, I think, but, no, not jealous. I don’t get jealous when I’m not in a relationship.” She glares at me, clearly telling me my jealousy about Cameron Schulz is premature. “Now, if you were my boyfriend and I found out you’d fucked another woman, then, yes, I’d be so jealous I’d burn your fucking house down. And then I’d cut off your balls, roast them over the burning embers of your house, smash them between two graham crackers with a Hershey bar and make testicle-s’mores out of them, which I would then gobble up as I stood over your writhing, whimpering body on the ground.”
Holy shit. I’m so shocked, I can’t even laugh. But Kat does—in fact, she belly laughs and throws back her head, completely enthralled with herself.
“And do you wanna know why I’d burn your house down and make myself s’mores out of your balls, my dearest Josh?”
I shake my head. “I’m too scared of you to even venture a guess.”
“Because if you were my boyfriend, I would never, ever cheat on you, I can promise you that on a stack of bibles. Never. I’ve never cheated and I never will. And here’s why: because I never agree to be someone’s girlfriend unless I’m one hundred percent willing to give the guy my whole heart. And as the relationship progresses, if I’m feeling like cheating, then I don’t stay. It’s scorched earth maybe, but a man never, ever has to wonder where my feelings stand.” She picks up her drink. “It also means that, if you were my boyfriend and you cheated on me, then you’d undoubtedly be breaking my heart.”
I place my palm on my chest, steadying myself. I look down at the bar, collecting myself. This girl just knocked the wind out of me.
“But since you and I aren’t even dating, then, no, I’m not jealous.” She takes a long sip of her drink. “Because I can’t justify getting jealous when a man’s not mine to begin with.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Kat,” I manage to say.
“Thank you,” she says. “I’ve never met anyone like you, either.”
“You’re like some bizarre, undiscovered species of fish that washes ashore after a nuclear disaster and freaks everyone the fuck out,” I say.
She laughs. “Wow. That’s your idea of a compliment?”
“I’m normally much smoother than this, I assure you. You bring out the Jonas in me.”
She laughs. “Jonas seems pretty damned smooth, actually.”
“Not usually. Just with Sarah all of a sudden. She brings out the Josh Faraday in him, I guess.”
She grins and I can’t help smiling back at her like a fucking dope.
There’s a very long beat, during which we’re smiling at each other, not saying a damned thing. Finally, Kat bites her lip and touches my hand, sending electricity throughout my entire body.
“For God’s sake, Playboy,” she purrs, “just tell me what’s in your application so we can get this show on the road. Please?” She squeezes my hand and licks her lips. “I’m suddenly feeling extremely... impatient.”
Oh man, she’s good. She’s very, very good. But she’s also shit out of luck. There’s no fucking way I’m giving this girl my application. Period. And certainly not in exchange for the honor of fucking her. Hell no, when she finally fucks me, it’s gonna be for no other reason than she’s dying for it, not because I gave her some stupid application.
I drain the rest of my drink. “Nope.” I clap my hands together. “Getting this show on the road is entirely up to you, Party Girl. All you have to do is kiss me, just once, and then I’ll know you’ve conceded your demands and have finally decided to find out the good old-fashioned way if I’m gonna chain you to a donkey or not.”
She smirks. “No, no, no, my dearest Playboy; you’ve got it backwards. What’s actually gonna happen is you’re gonna kiss me—thereby signaling to me you agree to my demands and will give me what I want.”
We stare each other down.
“I’m not gonna give you my application, Kat. It’s none of your fucking business.”
“Oh, I think you are.”
“Nope.”
She puckers. “I’m a really good kisser, Playboy.” She raises an eyebrow. “At least, that’s what Cameron Schulz said.”
I squint at her. “You’re evil.”
“I am.”
I motion to the bartender. “Check, please.” I glare at her for a long beat. She looks so fucking sure of herself—and so fucking hot, I doubt this girl’s experienced disappointment once in her entire life. “Okay, Party Girl,” I say. “The time for chitchat is over. I’m not gonna give you what you want—which means you’re not gonna fuck me.” I make a sad face and she matches it. “So I guess that means there’s only one thing left for us to do,” I continue.
“And what would that be?”
“Dance, of course.”
Her face lights up. “Oh, I love to dance.”
“Well, of course, you do. You’re the Party Girl With a Hyphen, for fuck’s sake.”
She grins.
“It’s time for you to earn that nickname of yours, babe.” I touch the cleft in her chin one more time and then put out my hand. “Let’s go, baby. Time to paint Sin City red.”
Picture

Book Summary & Purchase link

The Infatuation; The Club Trilogy; Lauren Rowe
Josh Faraday is used to getting what he wants. And what he wants is her.

The Playboy and The Party Girl with a Hyphen, Josh and Kat from the bestselling The Club series, tell their love story in a scorching new trilogy: The Infatuation, The Revelation, and The Consummation. Whoever said love is patient and kind has never met hell-on-wheels, Kat Morgan.

Readers are advised to read the bestselling books of The Club Series in order before reading Josh and Kat's trilogy: The Club (The Club #1)
The Reclamation (The Club #2)
The Redemption (The Club #3)
The Culmination (The Club #4)

Find out why readers have made The Club a USA Today and Amazon #1 bestseller in three categories: Romantic Suspense, New Adult and Romantic Erotica!


PURCHASE THE CLUB SERIES HERE

Series Reading Order

The Club Trilogy by Lauren Rowe

Now on sale $2.99

The Culmination, The Club Trilogy, Lauren Rowe

Bonus

The Club Trilogy, The Revelation, Lauren Rowe

NOW LIVE

The Revelation, Lauren Rowe, The Club Trilogy

NOW LIVE

The Consummation, Lauren Rowe, The Club Trilogy

NOW LIVE

MeetLauren Rowe

Lauren Rowe is the pen name of the USA Today best-selling author, performer, audio book narrator, award-winning songwriter and media host/personality who decided to unleash her alter ego to write The Club Trilogy to ensure she didn't hold back or self-censor in writing the story. Lauren Rowe lives in San Diego, California where she lives with her family, sings with her band, hosts a show, and writes at all hours of the night. Find out more about The Club Trilogy and Lauren Rowe at www.LaurenRoweBooks.com.

​Stalk Lauren on her Rock Star Page


GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Comments

The Club Trilogy Box Set by Lauren Rowe is ON SALE! 

12/29/2015

Comments

 
In anticipation of the newest three part release:  
The Infatuation, The Revelation and The Consummation,
The Club Series Trilogy Box Set is NOW ON SALE FOR ONLY $2.99 (Normally $5.99)!

Now is your chance to meet Jonas Faraday!
He is practically perfect! ​

Chapter One:  The Club

The Club by Lauren Rowe

Book Summary & Purchase link
Now ONLY $2.99

THE CLUB by Lauren Rowe
USA Today and Amazon #1 Bestseller in New Adult, Romantic Suspense, and Romantic Erotica, The Club Trilogy, has taken the world of erotic suspense by storm with its unique blend of panty-melting sensuality, thrilling suspense, laugh-out-loud humor, intense character development and shocking plot twists. Now readers can devour all three full-length books of the epic love story of Jonas and Sarah (The Club, The Reclamation, and The Redemption) in one heart-racing collection, including a brand new bonus scene written especially for the trilogy bundle.
In The Club Trilogy, when wealthy playboy Jonas Faraday receives an anonymous note from Sarah Cruz, a law student working part-time processing online applications for an exclusive club, he becomes obsessed with hunting her down and giving her the satisfaction she claims has always eluded her. Thus begins a sweeping tale of obsession, passion, desperation, and ultimately, redemption. Find out why scores of readers call The Club Trilogy “my favorite trilogy ever” and “the greatest love story I’ve ever read”--and why international publishers have clamored to translate and publish upcoming editions in Italian, German, French, Spanish, and more.
“There’s never been a love like ours and there never will be again… Our love is so pure and true, we’re the amazement of the gods.”


PURCHASE THE CLUB TRILOGY FOR $2.99

Teasers
(click on image for full view)

Already a fan?
​
Josh and Kat’s story releases on January 5th!

The Infatuation (The Club) by Lauren Rowe
Releases January 5th!
The Revelation (The Club) by Lauren Rowe
Releases on January 12th!
The Consummation (The Club) by Lauren Rowe
Releases on January 19th!

Meet Lauren Rowe

Lauren Rowe is the pen name of the USA Today best-selling author, performer, audio book narrator, award-winning songwriter and media host/personality who decided to unleash her alter ego to write The Club Trilogy to ensure she didn't hold back or self-censor in writing the story. Lauren Rowe lives in San Diego, California where she lives with her family, sings with her band, hosts a show, and writes at all hours of the night. Find out more about The Club Trilogy and Lauren Rowe at www.LaurenRoweBooks.com.

​Stalk Lauren here:
Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Instagram



Comments
    Picture

    Search our website


    Want to get up to date on Book News?  
    View past issues of our Rock Report HERE

    #FeaturedRelease


    #Featued Cover Reveal


    All
    Abby-brooks
    A-d-justice
    Ad-mccammon
    Alana-sapphire
    Aleahta-romig
    Aleatha-romig
    Alessandra-torre
    Alexa-riley
    Alex-grayson
    Aleya-michelle
    Aly-martinez
    Alyson Santos
    Amanda-richardson
    Amie-knight
    Am-johnson
    A-m-madden
    Am-willard
    Am-wilson
    Amy-andrews
    Amy-daws
    Amy-harmon
    Andrea Johnston
    Andrea-smith
    Angela-graham
    Angela-quarles
    Angel Devlin
    Annie-rains
    Anthology
    Aria-cole
    Ashley R. King
    As-teague
    Aubrey-bondurant
    Audrey Carlan
    Aurora-rose-reynolds
    Autumn-grey
    Ava-alise
    Ava-harrison
    Avelyn Paige
    Balla-lovewins
    Barbara-freethy
    Barbie-bohrman
    Beaus-arrows
    Beck-anderson
    Becky Flade
    Becky-mcgraw
    Bella-lovewins
    Beth-flynn
    Beth-michele
    Beverly-preston
    Bink-cummings
    Blair Babylon
    Blake-austin
    Bl-berry
    Blogiversary
    Bl-wilde
    Brenda Rothert
    Brenda-st-john-brown
    Brooke-blaine
    Brooke-blane
    Brooke-cumberland
    Brooke-obrien
    Brooklyn-taylor
    Ca-harms
    Caisey-quinn
    Caitlyn-oleary
    Callie-anderson
    Callie-harper
    Callie-hart
    Carina-adams
    Carly Phillips
    Carmen-jenner
    Carrie-ann-ryan
    Casey-peeler
    Cathryn-fox
    Cat-porter
    Charlotte-west
    Chelle-bliss
    Christina-lauren
    Cindi-madsen
    Claudia-burgoa
    Colleen-charles
    Colleen-hoover
    Cora Reilly
    Corinne-michaels
    Cover-reveal
    Crystal-kaswell
    Cynthia-page
    Dale-mayer
    Danielle-allen
    Dani-wyatt
    Debra-anastasia
    Dee-palmer
    Devney-perry
    D-kelly
    Donna-alam
    Dylan-allen
    Eden-summers
    Ek-blair
    Elena-mattews
    Elisabeth-grace
    El-james
    Ella-fox
    Ella-frank
    Ella-maise
    Elle-aycart
    Elle-boon
    Elle-kennedy
    Ellie Wade
    Emerson-rose
    Emma-chase
    Emma-hart
    Erin-nicholas
    Erin-noelle
    Erin-trejo
    Erin-watt
    Eva Haining
    Evan-grace
    Excerpt-reveal
    Exclusive
    Faith-andrews
    Fiona-cole
    Frankie Love
    Gemma-james
    Geneva-lee
    Georgia-cates
    Geri Glenn
    Gia-riley
    Guest-post
    Haley Jenner
    Harloe-rae
    Heather-c-leigh
    Heather-dagostino
    Heather-m-orgeron
    Heather-stone
    Heidi-mclaughlin
    Helena-hunting
    Hilary-storm
    Holly-renee
    Hope Ford
    Ilsa-maddenmills
    Ilsa-madden-mills
    Jackie-steele
    Jacob-chance
    Jade-c-jamison
    Ja-derouen
    Jade West
    Jamie-schlosser
    Jana-aston
    Jane-anthony
    Janet-nissenson
    Jasinda-wilder
    Jay-mclean
    Jb-hartnett
    Jc-reed
    Jc-reed9158e52601
    J-daniels
    Jd-hallyfield
    Jeanine-colette
    Jeannine Colette
    Jen-frederick
    Jenika Snow
    Jennifer-ann
    Jennifer Bene
    Jennifer-blackwood
    Jennifer-foor
    Jennifer-loren
    Jennifer-probst
    Jennifer-van-wyk
    Jennilynn Wyer
    Jessica-clare
    Jewel-e-ann
    Jillian Dodd
    Jillian-quinn
    Jill-monroe
    Jill-shalvis
    J. Kenner
    Jl-berg
    Jl-mac
    Joanna-wylde
    Jodi-watters
    Jordan Marie
    J. Silence
    Js-scott
    Julia-kent
    Julie-a-richman
    Kacey-shea
    Kahlen-aymes
    Ka-linde
    Karina-halle
    Kata-cuic
    Katee-robert
    Kathryn-james
    Kathy-coopmans
    Katie-ashley
    Kat-t-masen
    Katy-evans
    Katy-regnery
    Kaylee-ryan
    K-bromberg
    Kelly-elliot
    Kelly Jamieson
    Kendall-ryan
    Kennedy-fox
    Ker Dukey
    Khardine Gray
    Ki-lynn
    Ki-lynnf896ade5a6
    Kimberly Knight
    Kimberly-readnour
    Kim-holden
    Kim-jones
    Kim-karr
    Kim-loraine
    Kindle-alexander
    Kk-allen
    Kk-allena8b635a812
    Kl-shandwick
    Kristen-ashley
    Kristie Leigh
    Kristin-mayer
    Kylie-scott
    La Cotton
    La-cotton694e9009c4
    La-fiore
    Lane-hart
    Laura-heffernan
    Laura-ward
    Laurelin-paige
    Lauren-blakely
    Lauren-landish
    Lauren-rowe
    Lauren Runow
    Lauren-smith
    Layne-harper
    Lb Dunbar
    Leann-ashers
    Leia Stone
    Leigh-christopher
    Leisa-rayven
    Lexi-blake
    Leylah-attar
    Lh-cosway
    Lh-coswaydb8b6099a8
    Lili-saint-germain
    Lili-st-germain
    Lindsay-corss
    Lindsay-cross
    Lisa-dejong
    Lisa-eugene
    Lisa-marie-perry
    Lisa-renee-jones
    Lisa-suzanne
    Livia Grant
    Liv Morris
    Lk-collins
    Ll-collins
    Lm-carr
    L-nicole
    Logan-chance
    London-caseyjaxson-kidman
    Loni Ree
    Lulu-astor
    Lynne-silver
    Lyra-parish
    Maggie Marr
    Mandi-beck
    Mariah-dietz
    Marie-force
    Marie-james
    Marley Valentine
    Marni-mann
    Maya-hughes
    Mc-decker
    M-clarke
    Meghan-march
    Meghan-quinn
    Melanie Moreland
    Melissa-jane
    Melissa-toppen
    Melody-grace
    Mia-asher
    Mia-kayla
    Michelle-mankin
    Missy-johnson
    Misty Waller
    Mj-fields
    Mj-fieldsbb7a409592
    M. Never
    Mn-forgy
    Molly-mcadams
    Momfail
    Monica-james
    Monica-murphy
    M. Robinson
    Nalini-singh
    Nana-malone
    Nashoda-rose
    Natasha Madison
    Nicola-rendell
    Nicole-blanchard
    Nicole-richard
    Niecey Roy
    Nikki-ash
    Nikki Belaire
    Nina Levine
    Nina-malone
    N-isabelle-blanco
    Official-fifty
    Penelope Ward
    Penny-reid
    Pepper-winters
    Piper-rayne
    Prescott Lane
    Rachael-duncan
    Rachel Angel
    Rachel-blaufeld
    Rachel-robinson
    Rachel Van Dyken
    Raine-miller
    Rc-boldt
    Rc-stephens
    Rc-stephensfb4c30e6ca
    Rebecca-jenshak
    Rebecca-shea
    Rebecca-yarros
    Red-phoenix
    Renee-carlino
    Rie Warren
    Rk-lilley
    Robin-bielman
    Rowan-underwood
    Roya-carmen
    Rylee Swann
    Saffron A. Kent
    Samantha Towle
    Sandra-marton
    Sarah-castille
    Sarah-robinson
    Sarina-bowen
    Sarwah Creed
    Savannah-stewart
    Sawyer Bennett
    SD Hendrickson
    Season Vining
    Se-hall
    Se-hallc3331655da
    Shari-j-ryan
    Shaw Hart
    Shayla-black
    Shay-savage
    Sheri-lee-gray
    Sherilee Gray
    Shiloh-walker
    Sidney-halston
    Sienna-parks
    Sierra Hill
    Skye-turner
    Skye Warren
    Sl-jennings
    Sloane-murphy
    Sl-scott
    Sm Shade
    Sneak-peek-intertwined-by-sasha-brummer
    Sophia-henry
    SR Grey
    Stacey Kennedy
    Stacy Gail
    Stacy-kestwick
    Stasia-black
    Stephie-walls
    Stylo-fantome
    Sunniva-dee
    Sylvain-reynard
    Tali-alexander
    T-bester
    Teagan-hunter
    Teagan Kade
    Tess-hunter
    The-darcy-monologues
    Tia-louise
    Tijan
    Tillie-cole
    T.L. Smith
    Tl-swan
    Tm-frazier
    Toni-aleo
    Tory Baker
    Tracie-podger
    Tracy Lorraine
    Tracy-wolff
    Tr-cupak
    Trisha-wolfe
    Vanessa Fewings
    Vi-keeland
    Winter-renshaw
    Zoe Forward

    RSS Feed





Don't miss a thing!  Subscribe to our Rock Report to receive a daily email.
Giveaway Terms | New Releases | Authors | Genres | Privacy |  Amazon Affiliate Disclosure

Live Chat Support ×

Connecting

You: ::content::
::agent_name:: ::content::
::content::
::content::