Blog Tour # 1 - RIGHT WRONG GUY
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Right Wrong GuyBrightwater #2
By: Lia Riley
Releasing August 4, 2015
Avon Impulse
The fun and flirty second installment in Lia Riley’s fantastic Brightwater series.
Sometimes two wrongs can make a right...
Bad boy wrangler, Archer Kane, lives fast and loose. Words like responsibility and commitment send him running in the opposite direction. Until a wild Vegas weekend puts him on a collision course with Eden Bankcroft-Kew, a New York heiress running away from her blackmailing fiancé…the morning of her wedding.
Eden has never understood the big attraction to cowboys. Give her a guy in a tailored suit any day of the week. But now all she can think about is Mr. Rugged Handsome, six-feet of sinfully sexy country charm with a pair of green eyes that keeps her tossing and turning all night long.
Archer might be the wrong guy for a woman like her, but she's not right in thinking he'll walk away without fighting for her heart. And maybe, just maybe, two wrongs can make a right.
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Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/07/right-wrong-guy-brightwater-2-by-lia.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23575442-right-wrong-guy
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/141818-brightwater
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23575442-right-wrong-guy
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/141818-brightwater
REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW
Starting over can be sweet Originally Posted: 11:02 AM 25 JULY 2015
Archer is used to being the family screw up. He is the playboy, the joker, etc. Only after he meets Eden that he finds out he wants more out of his life. He helps her make a new start, but he is afraid what she may believe in the rumors about him.
Eden is making changes. Now she goes by Edie Banks. She is the proud owner of a little cafe where she bakes and makes the town happy. Her competition is out to get her, her ex-fiance is out to bankrupt her, and she is new in town so many people do not trust her.
Archer knows that making something of himself means starting over a bit like Edie. He wants her to be proud of him. Someday he hopes her to fall in love with him. He has to make himself someone she can be proud to call hers.
The whole story is rather sweet and has many faces that are familiar to those of you already reading the Brightwater series. This is only book # 2, so it is not too late to get into this sweet little town with complex characters. It can be read as a standalone for those of you who wish to just try this one. I give this book a 4/5 Kitty's Paws UP!
***This ARC copy is given from Edelweiss, Tasty Book Tours, the author and publisher for review purposes only.
Archer Kane meets Eden Bankcroft-Kew in a diner in Las Vegas. It was a bad day for both of them, but it got better when Eden bummed a ride to his hometown of Brightwater.Eden is making changes. Now she goes by Edie Banks. She is the proud owner of a little cafe where she bakes and makes the town happy. Her competition is out to get her, her ex-fiance is out to bankrupt her, and she is new in town so many people do not trust her.
Archer knows that making something of himself means starting over a bit like Edie. He wants her to be proud of him. Someday he hopes her to fall in love with him. He has to make himself someone she can be proud to call hers.
The whole story is rather sweet and has many faces that are familiar to those of you already reading the Brightwater series. This is only book # 2, so it is not too late to get into this sweet little town with complex characters. It can be read as a standalone for those of you who wish to just try this one. I give this book a 4/5 Kitty's Paws UP!
***This ARC copy is given from Edelweiss, Tasty Book Tours, the author and publisher for review purposes only.
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Lia Riley writes offbeat New Adult and Contemporary Adult romance. After studying at the University of Montana-Missoula, she scoured the world armed only with a backpack, overconfidence and a terrible sense of direction. She counts shooting vodka with a Ukranian mechanic in Antarctica, sipping yerba mate with gauchos in Chile and swilling XXXX with stationhands in Outback Australia among her accomplishments.
A British literature fanatic at heart, Lia considers Mr. Darcy and Edward Rochester as her fictional boyfriends. Her very patient husband doesn't mind. Much. When not torturing heroes (because c'mon, who doesn't love a good tortured hero?), Lia herds unruly chickens, camps, beach combs, daydreams about future books, wades through a mile-high TBR pile and schemes yet another trip. Right now, Icelandic hot springs and Scottish castles sound mighty fine.
A British literature fanatic at heart, Lia considers Mr. Darcy and Edward Rochester as her fictional boyfriends. Her very patient husband doesn't mind. Much. When not torturing heroes (because c'mon, who doesn't love a good tortured hero?), Lia herds unruly chickens, camps, beach combs, daydreams about future books, wades through a mile-high TBR pile and schemes yet another trip. Right now, Icelandic hot springs and Scottish castles sound mighty fine.
Right Wrong Guy (Brightwater #2) PLAYLIST
http://open.spotify.com/user/12150480907/playlist/2zJC4fPYYGgJgqk7vWfPHfrong
SONG ARTIST ALBUM
Mind Reader Dustin Lynch Mind Reader
Cowboy Take Me Away Dixie Chicks Fly
Wide Open Spaces " " The Very Best
Just a Kiss Lady Antebellum Own the Night
I'm On Fire Town Mountain Heroes & Heretics
Hide Little May Hide
Loved Lucy Hale Road Between (Deluxe)
Wanted Hunter Hayes Hunter Hayes
Let it Be Me Ray LaMontagne Gossip in the Grain
When You Say Nothing At All Alison Krauss Now That I Have Found You
That Look Aaron Watson That Look
EXCERPT/
“Get the hell out.” Stormy’s real voice sounded a lot more Jersey Shore than genteel Georgian peach farmer. She wasn’t half bad at the whole ventriloquist gig, but now wasn’t the time to offer compliments.
He threw on his Levi’s commando-style while Stormy eyed his package as if prepping to go Category Five hurricane on his junk. Scooping his red Western shirt off the floor, he made a break for the bedroom. His boots were by the door but his hat was still on the bed, specifically on Crystal’s head. Her sleepy expression gave way to confusion as Stormy sprang from the bathroom, Great Uncle Sam leading the charge.
“What’s going on?” Crystal asked as Stormy bellowed, “Prepare to have your manwhore ass kicked back into whatever cowpoke hole you crawled from.”
Hat? Boots? Hat? Boots? Archer only had time to grab one. He slung his arms through the shirt, not bothering to snap the pearl clasps, and grabbed the hand-tooled boots while hurtling into the hall. Yeah, definitely getting too old for this shit.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he called over one shoulder as the dove swooped.
He bypassed the elevator bay in favor of the stairwell. Once he’d descended three floors, he paused to tug on his boots and his phone rang. Pulling it out from his back pocket, he groaned at the screen. Grandma Kane.
He could let it go to voice mail. In fact, he was tempted to do just that, but the thing about Grandma was she called back until you picked up.
With a heavy sigh, and a prayer for two Tylenol, he hit “answer.” “How’s the best grandma in the world?” he boomed, propping the phone between his ear and shoulder and snapping together his shirt.
“Quit with your smooth talk, boy,” Grandma barked. “Where are you?”
“Leaving church,” he fibbed quickly.
“Better not be the Little Chapel of Love.”
“What do you—”
“Don’t feed me bullhickey. You’re in Vegas again.”
Sawyer must have squeaked. As Brightwater sheriff, he was into upright citizenship and moral standing, nobler than George Washington and his fucking cherry tree.
“Did you forget about our plans for this weekend?”
“Plans?” He wracked his brain but thinking hurt. So did walking down these stairs. Come to think of it, so did breathing. He needed that upcoming coffee and bacon like a nose needed picking.
Grandma made a rude noise. “To go over the accounts for Hidden Rock. You promised to set up the new purchase-order software on the computer.”
Shit. His shoulders slumped. He had offered to help. Grandma ran a large, profitable cattle ranch, but the Hidden Rock’s inventory management was archaic, and the accounting practically done by abacus. In his hurry to see if an impromptu Vegas road trip could overcome his funk, the meeting had slipped his mind. “Let me make it up to you—”
“Your charm has no currency here, boy.” Grandpa Kane died before Archer was born and Grandma never remarried. Perhaps he should introduce her to Stormy’s Great Uncle Sam. Those two were a match made in heaven, could spend their spare time busting his balls.
He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot, okay?” Not okay. Grandma counted on him and he let her down.
“Funny, guess you’re probably too busy using women like disposable silverware.” Her tone sounded anything but amused. “Even funnier will be when I forget to put you in my will.”
Grandma’s favorite threat was disinheriting him. Who cared? The guy voted Biggest Partier and Class Flirt his senior year at Brightwater High was also the least likely to run Hidden Rock Ranch.
The line went dead. At least she didn’t ask why he couldn’t be more like Sawyer anymore.
Excerpt #3
He threw on his Levi’s commando-style while Stormy eyed his package as if prepping to go Category Five hurricane on his junk. Scooping his red Western shirt off the floor, he made a break for the bedroom. His boots were by the door but his hat was still on the bed, specifically on Crystal’s head. Her sleepy expression gave way to confusion as Stormy sprang from the bathroom, Great Uncle Sam leading the charge.
“What’s going on?” Crystal asked as Stormy bellowed, “Prepare to have your manwhore ass kicked back into whatever cowpoke hole you crawled from.”
Hat? Boots? Hat? Boots? Archer only had time to grab one. He slung his arms through the shirt, not bothering to snap the pearl clasps, and grabbed the hand-tooled boots while hurtling into the hall. Yeah, definitely getting too old for this shit.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he called over one shoulder as the dove swooped.
He bypassed the elevator bay in favor of the stairwell. Once he’d descended three floors, he paused to tug on his boots and his phone rang. Pulling it out from his back pocket, he groaned at the screen. Grandma Kane.
He could let it go to voice mail. In fact, he was tempted to do just that, but the thing about Grandma was she called back until you picked up.
With a heavy sigh, and a prayer for two Tylenol, he hit “answer.” “How’s the best grandma in the world?” he boomed, propping the phone between his ear and shoulder and snapping together his shirt.
“Quit with your smooth talk, boy,” Grandma barked. “Where are you?”
“Leaving church,” he fibbed quickly.
“Better not be the Little Chapel of Love.”
“What do you—”
“Don’t feed me bullhickey. You’re in Vegas again.”
Sawyer must have squeaked. As Brightwater sheriff, he was into upright citizenship and moral standing, nobler than George Washington and his fucking cherry tree.
“Did you forget about our plans for this weekend?”
“Plans?” He wracked his brain but thinking hurt. So did walking down these stairs. Come to think of it, so did breathing. He needed that upcoming coffee and bacon like a nose needed picking.
Grandma made a rude noise. “To go over the accounts for Hidden Rock. You promised to set up the new purchase-order software on the computer.”
Shit. His shoulders slumped. He had offered to help. Grandma ran a large, profitable cattle ranch, but the Hidden Rock’s inventory management was archaic, and the accounting practically done by abacus. In his hurry to see if an impromptu Vegas road trip could overcome his funk, the meeting had slipped his mind. “Let me make it up to you—”
“Your charm has no currency here, boy.” Grandpa Kane died before Archer was born and Grandma never remarried. Perhaps he should introduce her to Stormy’s Great Uncle Sam. Those two were a match made in heaven, could spend their spare time busting his balls.
He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot, okay?” Not okay. Grandma counted on him and he let her down.
“Funny, guess you’re probably too busy using women like disposable silverware.” Her tone sounded anything but amused. “Even funnier will be when I forget to put you in my will.”
Grandma’s favorite threat was disinheriting him. Who cared? The guy voted Biggest Partier and Class Flirt his senior year at Brightwater High was also the least likely to run Hidden Rock Ranch.
The line went dead. At least she didn’t ask why he couldn’t be more like Sawyer anymore.
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