Great Getaway with ONCE PURE by Cecy Robson

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Once Pure_Robson

Once Pure
Shattered Past # 3

By: Cecy Robson

Releasing May 19, 2015

Loveswept

abouthebook

She bears the scars of the past. He blames himself for things he can’t control. Their defenses are up, but in Cecy Robson’s latest Shattered Past novel—perfect for fans of Monica Murphy and J. Lynn—true love lands a knockout punch.

Sofia Tres Santos remembers a time before her life went sour, before her innocence was ripped away, before she began punishing herself with risky behaviors and unworthy men. Now, at twenty, she just hopes she’s ready to rebuild some of what she lost. One way or another, it always comes back to her childhood friend and longtime crush, Killian O’Brien.

As strong as Killian is, Sofia has always been his one weakness. He knows Sofia has suffered and wants to ensure she’s never hurt again—not like before, and definitely not under his watch. When Sofia agrees to work at his mixed martial arts gym, Killian seizes the opportunity to help and protect the sweet girl he’s always cared for. And yet, as he trains Sofia to defend herself using his hard-hitting MMA techniques, he’s drawn to the vulnerable beauty in ways he never expected.

As Sofia grows stronger, she also grows brave enough to open herself up to love. And along the way, she challenges everything Killian believes to be true, showing him that no matter how much he dominates in the ring, the real battle is fought in the heart.

Link to Follow Tour:  http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/02/once-pure-shattered-past-3-by-cecy.html

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excerpt

The steady pummeling of fists against the speed bag continued as if the body slams and swears weren’t bouncing off every wall of the MMA gym. Every strike, every blow, promised pain and demanded respect. I tried not to react to each loud smack, or cower from supersized bodies dripping with sweat, but it was hard. Controlled chaos was the best way to describe the scene unraveling before me. And no one owned it like Killian O’Brien.

I slipped my fingers into the computer bag hooked to my shoulder, pretending to fumble with the files tucked against my laptop, while totally checking out Killian behind the safety of my sunglasses.

His broad and muscular back was to me, but that was okay. I liked the way his Celtic cross tat crawled down the length of his spine and spread across his shoulder blades. I liked the way his wavy jet-black hair tickled the base of his skull. I liked the way—okay, who was I kidding? I liked everything about him. I had since I was seven, when he and his large Catholic family moved into the row home across from ours.

Killian hadn’t noticed me. He was busy kicking what remained of a heavy bag, showing the younger MMA brawlers how it was done. At six feet five, and fighting at super heavyweight status, Killian shouldn’t have been so flexible. But he was. Dear Lord, he so was.

His foot skimmed the top of the bag with each brutal thump, causing the chain holding it to rattle and jolt with hard shakes. Killian was best known for his kicks. If he caught his opponent in the face with his foot, the poor guy was done, and so was what remained of his face.

“Hey, Sofia!”

I jumped when the youngest O’Brien approached. “Oh. Hi, Finn.”

The dimple on his right cheek deepened when he grinned. He motioned to my nylon computer bag. “You ready to work?”

“Oh, yeah. Ready to go.” I patted the bag like a total loser, then rather awkwardly let my hand fall to my side. In an attempt to regain some sense of grace, I slipped my sunglasses to the top of my head, pushing the strands of my long, bouncy curls behind my ears.

Finn’s grin widened. He likely sensed my nervousness. His toothy smile made him appear younger than his nineteen years, but it was sweet enough to soothe the tension my first day back had caused. I liked Finn, I always had. He was smaller than his brothers, but just as tough, working his way up the MMA ranks as a welterweight.

He slapped his gloved hands together, full of energy as usual. God, it seemed, had dumped all the O’Brien muscle onto Killian’s heavy-duty frame. God was funny that way. That didn’t mean Finn wouldn’t take on a guy twice his size. Finn was funny that way.

He scratched the top of his curly ginger hair. “Killian know you’re here?”

“Ah, no, but that’s okay. I can just head to his office and start on his website—”

“Kill, Kill!” Finn cupped his mouth with his hands, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Your woman is here!” His attention cut to my mortified face. “You are his woman, right, Sofia?”

“Ah . . .”

Killian’s head jerked our way, along with most of the behemoths training. I wasn’t sure if he could see how red my face was from where he stood, but the easy smile spreading along his strong features told me he could. He abandoned what remained of the heavy bag and crossed the padded floor as the rest of the fighters resumed their free-for-alls.

I froze, watching him prowl forward like the mad beast he was, his hulking and densely tattooed arms swinging loosely against his sides. It wouldn’t take him long to reach us, despite the large expanse of the converted warehouse, so I tried to speak fast. “I’m not his woman, Finn.”

“So you’re just banging?”

“No!”

“But you want to.”

“Want to what?”

“Bang my brother like a pair of cymbals,” he said, like I was the stupid one.

“Yes—no.” Oh, good heavens.


“Why not?”

“Finn!”

“He’s a good guy.”

“Finn, I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Do you want to have it with Kill instead?”

“Have what with me?” Killian’s deep voice rumbled like thunder as he stopped just in front of me.

Dear. Lord.

It had been a few weeks since I’d last seen him. Dark stubble grazed his chin, forming a mini-goatee and emphasizing the angles of his square jaw. But his face didn’t hold my attention for long. My stare traveled down his body, taking in his light skin glistening with sweat . . . before I remembered that my sunglasses now rested on the top of my head and I was blatantly gawking at him.

“Like what you see?” he asked, playfully.

“I . . .” The urge to bolt had me shifting my weight, hard enough to slap the hem of my long white skirt against my bare legs. But I stayed put, trying not to faint from his scorching level of badassness and working to form a decent response. “I was just admiring your sweat.”

So much for a decent response. He stopped smiling. “My sweat?”

I punched him in the arm, because, yeah, I was just that lame. “Totally. You must have had quite the workout, huh, asskicker?”

Finn grimaced as if it pained him to watch me go down in flames. I was good with computers. I couldn’t say the same about men. If the fate of the world depended on me successfully interacting with the male species without stuttering, blushing, or recoiling, the world would just end and we’d all die some sick apocalyptic death.

Killian analyzed me closely like most would a bug they were debating on squashing, before his chest shook with laughter. God, this is Sofia. Please strike me dead.

Killian closed the distance between us, the fingertips of his large hand extending to tickle my chin. “I was just getting started. Nice to have a pretty girl appreciate my efforts.”

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debbiesreview

Finally, we get Sofia and Killian’s story!!   Since reading the first Shattered Past book, Once Perfect, I’ve been waiting for Sofia’s turn.  I think Killian is my new favorite…at least for now.

Although Once Pure can be read as a stand alone, the reader should read at least the first in the series to best understand the backstory.  I did appreciate that it wasn’t only Sofia that we see develop throughout the story.  Killian.  I loved that this intimidating fighter has a soft spot and doesn’t quite know how to get what he wants.

I’m looking forward to reading more in the Shattered Past series. Can’t wait for the next one!

RatingSystem-4

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aboutheauthor

Cecy Robson_Author PhotoCecy Robson is the New Adult author of Once Perfect, Once Loved, and Once Pure and the award-winning author of the Weird Girls urban fantasy romance series. A self-proclaimed professional napper, Cecy counts among her talents a jaw-dropping knowledge of useless trivia, the ability to make her hair big, and a knack for breaking into song despite her family’s vehement protests. A full-time writer, registered nurse, wife, and mother living in the Great Northwest, Cecy enjoys spending time with her family and silencing the yappy characters in her head by telling their stories.

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Book Tour – SWEET ACHE by K. Bromberg

sweet ache book tour

Meet Hawke & Quinlan in SWEET ACHE – the newest Rock Star stand-alone in the Driven Series by K. Bromberg!

NOW AVAILABLE

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Blurb

The New York Times bestselling author of Slow Burn turns up the heat when a sexy bet turns into so much more….

Hawkin Play, the bad boy rock star with a good guy heart, has lived a lifetime of cleaning up after his twin brother’s mistakes. Hunter’s most recent screwup could land Hawke in jail and risk the band’s future. Hawke agrees to guest lecture at a local college to stay in the judge’s good graces—and a bet with his bandmate to seduce his sexy teaching assistant is icing on the cake.

Quinlan Westin is harder to bed than Hawke imagined. She knows his type and is determined to avoid the rocker at all costs—even if their attraction runs deeper than simple lust.

Just as Hawke might finally be winning over the girl, his brother has other plans. When Hunter realizes his twin finally has a weakness, he’ll stop at nothing to take advantage….

sweet ache teaser 1

EXCERPT

Quinlan

“Now you guys need to get going so you have time for Quin to give you the complete rundown,” Professor Stevens says.

Of course she has no idea the double entendre she’s just given Hawkin about me giving him a complete rundown, but I know Hawke catches it. I manage to resist the urge to stomp my feet in frustration and storm out of her office like a toddler. Instead I give her a tight smile before turning and walking out of the office and then the department.

I stand there in the sunshine, waiting for him to get his ass in gear and quit wasting my time. When I finally hear the door open I just start walking and the sound of his boots is the only inclination that he’s following.

“I’ve got longer legs than you Trixie,” he chides from a few feet back. “But feel free to keep swinging your hips like that, and I’ll stay right here behind you and enjoy the show.”

I bristle at the comment. At the moment there’s no authority to be respectful of, no damage that can’t be undone.

“A show?” The pitch of my voice escalates as I whirl around to face him—sunglasses on, hair disheveled, and I wish I hadn’t turned around because damn, he’s just that devastatingly fine. I’m quiet for a beat as we both appraise each other from behind darkened lenses. His dark hair, tanned skin, and cocky smirk pulls at those parts of me I don’t want to be pulled. “You want to talk about a show.” I grit the words out, trying to push my physical attraction to him from my mind. “Let’s talk about your little performance for Dr. Stevens.”

“I know. I’m good, huh? Sorry but a man’s got to do what he’s got to do . . . Besides, I wasn’t done with you yet.”

My mouth falls lax and I’m momentarily flabbergasted. “Done with me yet?” I sputter the words when I’ve recovered my wits at his arrogance run amuck . . . But I can’t deny the little flutter in my belly at his comment. There’s just something about him aside from the whole I’m a rock-star thing, that makes me desire him in a way I can’t put into words.

“Yep.” He says casually as he unwraps a Starburst and pops it into his mouth. And I hate that I’m fascinated with watching his mouth suck on the sweet candy. Luckily he speaks so I can distract myself from the captivating sight. “I’m pretty sure you have a usefulness . . . I’m just trying to figure out what that is.” He licks his lips. “Well, besides the obvious, that is . . .” Smirk is handily in place and I hate that ache starting to simmer in my core.

“Why don’t you go suck a—”

“Relax,” he says, angling his head to the side and emitting a laugh as he steps closer to me. “I’m just teasing you. You’re so damn easy to rile up and so hard to resist. Plus you’re even hotter when you’re pissed. I like it.” He shrugs an apology, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans with a sheepish grin that softens all those hard edges and makes me sigh with the contrast of characteristics. He holds a red Starburst out to me as a peace offering. “C’mon, you know you want to be the star to my burst.”

We’ve stopped, my hands are on my hips, and the sun is falls around us as hewaits for me to react to his innocent little comment. Deep down I know I’m screwed. I feel an urge to smile but immediately realign my defenses. The contradiction he presents, the smooth with the rough, is the one thing that I always fall for when it comes to men.

And I’m not going to fall for Hawkin Play.

 

sweet ache it's live

 

About the Author:

kristy...New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg is that reserved woman sitting in the corner who has you all fooled about the wild child inside of her—the one she lets out every time her fingertips touch the computer keyboard.

K. lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. When she needs a break from the daily chaos of her life, you can most likely find her on the treadmill or with Kindle in hand, devouring the pages of a good, saucy book.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Her debut novels, Driven, Fueled, and Crashed of The Driven Trilogy were well received and went on to become multi-platform bestsellers as well as landing on the New York Times and USA Today lists. Her other works include a short story, UnRaveled, and a companion piece to The Driven Trilogy titled Raced. She is currently working on three stand alone Driven novels, Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, and Hard Beat. She also plans to release a novel addressing the 10 year gap at the ending of Crashed in late fall 2015

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