By: Lauren Layne
Releasing
May 17, 2016
Loveswept
Loveswept
Blurb
In this steamy novel from the USA
Today bestselling author of Blurred Lines, country
music’s favorite good girl hides away from the world—and finds herself bunking
with a guy who makes her want to be a little bad.
Jenny Dawson moved to Nashville to
write music, not get famous. But when her latest record goes double platinum,
Jenny’s suddenly one of the town’s biggest stars—and the center of a tabloid
scandal connecting her with a pop star she’s barely even met. With paparazzi
tracking her every move, Jenny flees to a remote mansion in Louisiana to write
her next album. The only hiccup is the unexpected presence of a brooding young
caretaker named Noah, whose foul mouth and snap judgments lead to constant
bickering—and serious heat.
Noah really should tell Jenny that
he’s Preston Noah Maxwell Walcott, the owner of the estate where the feisty
country singer has made her spoiled self at home. But the charade gives Noah a
much-needed break from his own troubles, and before long, their verbal sparring
is indistinguishable from foreplay. But as sizzling nights give way to quiet
pillow talk, Noah begins to realize that Jenny’s almost as complicated as he
is. To fit into each other’s lives, they’ll need the courage to face their
problems together—before the outside world catches up to them.
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2016/03/good-girl-by-lauren-layne.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28185836-good-girl
Buy Links:
Amazon | B & N | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo
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REVIEW!!
So I wasn't completely wowwed by this book but I didn't dislike it either. I enjoyed the characters and the idea behind the plot. However, I found it to be way too slow for my liking and I struggled to get into it at first. Once I got into it though I started to enjoy it.
Besides the pace I loved the book and look forward to reading more by this author because she has a unique writing style.
3.5 stars
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EXCERPT!
Jenny
“Sweetie
. . . ,” Amber says in a gentle voice that has me tensing.
I
love Amber to death, but she’s not usually one for sweet-talking. She’s more
the type of friend who will actually tell you that a certain pair of jeans
absolutely makes your butt look big.
I
go very still, wondering if I’m going to need more chocolate chips for this.
“What? Tell me.”
“Have
you ever hooked up with Shawn Bates?”
I
make a face. “Yuck, no.”
“But
you’ve hung out?”
“No.
I’ve met him, like, twice. Maybe three times.”
“When
was the last time you saw him?”
My
heart is pounding now, because there’s an urgency in Amber’s voice that I’m not
used to hearing. “I don’t know. The Grammys, I guess. We had our picture taken
together, I think.”
Shawn
Bates is one of those ridiculously good-looking guys who’s also been blessed
with a decent voice. He won best pop vocal album three years in a row.
He
was up against me for album of the year. I can’t imagine he was thrilled about
losing, but he was friendly enough. A little skeevy, but maybe that’s because I
only know his reputation. And I, of all people, know not to believe everything
you hear.
“Do
you have your laptop handy?” Amber asks in that scary quiet voice.
Oh,
crap. Instinctively I know this is bad. Really bad.
I
stand, heading into the kitchen, where I left my iPad, Dolly trotting along at
my ankles, happy and oblivious with her little chipmunk in her mouth.
“Which
site?” I say as I turn on the tablet.
“Any
of them.“
As
it turns out, I don’t even need to go to a celebrity gossip site. I was reading
Google News this morning with my coffee, and it’s still up on my browser
window.
Only
this time . . .
This
time I am
the news.
I
stare blindly, clicking on the top article, my eyes reading the headline about
a dozen times before my brain finally registers it: “Does America’s Favorite
Good Girl Have a Secret Seductress Side?”
Below
the headline is a picture of me and Shawn at the Grammys, both of us with
awards in hand. My head is tilted back in a laugh, and even though I
know my happiness comes from winning the award rather than my proximity to
Shawn Bates, I have to admit that I look semi-smitten with the guy.
His
eyes are locked on my cleavage, his smile far more intimate than it has a right
to be considering that our conversation lasted only a split second longer than
the picture itself.
At
the time, I’d thought the shimmering pink dress the perfect combination of
sweet and sexy, but looking at it now, with this headline, it seems garish. My
smile’s too wide, my posture too open, my smoky eye makeup too much . . .
“Jenny.
Talk to me,” Amber says.
“It’ll
pass, right?” I say, still unable to look away from the photo to actually read
the article.
Amber
doesn’t reply, and Dolly lets out a sad little whimpering noise before sitting
on top of my foot as though trying to shield me from what’s to come.
“It’s
just another stupid rumor,” I say. “The tabloids are getting exceedingly bold.
I can sue, right? And Shawn can sue, and we’ll—”
“Shawn
confirmed it,” Amber says.
My
ears buzz. “What?”
“This
morning. Coming out of the gym, the vultures were all over him. Instead of
keeping his mouth shut, Shawn said, and I quote, ‘Look, I’m not proud of my
actions, but I can’t be the first guy to get pulled into Jenny Dawson’s vortex,
and I’m sure I won’t be the last. At this point, all I can do is look forward
and try to make amends.’”
“What
is he talking
about?” I squeak, my eyes closing as I pull hard on my ponytail in frustration.
“Make amends for what? My vortex? Is that a thing?”
“It
gets worse,” Amber says, her voice miserable.
“I
don’t know how that’s even possible.”
“He’s
not the only one who’s confirmed the story.”
I
blink. “Someone else is also delusional?”
“Yeah.
His wife.”
“Oh
my God,” I whisper.
I
don’t know much about Shawn Bates’s wife, but pretty much everyone knows their
story. Childhood sweethearts who started dating in middle school, they got
married right out of high school, shortly before Shawn got famous.
There
are always
rumors that he’s cheating, but like I’ve said, I don’t put much faith in
rumors.
One
thing I know for sure is that if he is cheating, it’s not with me.
“She
posted a tearful selfie on every single social media platform along with a big
old statement about how she and Shawn are going through a rough patch, but
their love is stronger than any country-singing home wrecker.”
“I’m
not a home wrecker.”
“I
know that, J. But you have that song, and there’s that picture—”
“The
song was euphemistic!” I say, referring to my first hit single, a song I wrote
about all the things that can come between a couple once the honeymoon period’s
over: the TV, bills, iPhones, work. Those are the home wreckers.
Not
me.
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Author
Info
Lauren Layne is the USA Today Bestselling author of more
than a dozen contemporary romance novels.
Prior to becoming an author, Lauren worked in e-commerce and web-marketing. A
year after moving from Seattle to NYC to pursue a writing career, she had a
fabulous agent and multiple New York publishing deals.
Lauren currently lives in Manhattan with her husband and plus-sized Pomeranian.
When not writing, you'll likely find her running (rarely), reading (sometimes),
or at happy hour (often).
