Conditioned By Liz
Crowe Blog Tour @beerwencha2 @BuoniAmiciPress
Genre: Erotic
Romance
Release Date: July
11, 2017
Hosted by: Buoni
Amici Press (http://buoniamicipress.com )
Book three in the
Brewing Passion series
A chance meeting. An improbable connection. An exquisite attraction.
Trent Hettinger’s turbulent formative
years transformed him into a cynic—and into a man who realized he required
something outside himself to control his temper. Something he found as a Dom—at
least for a while. But he allowed himself to trust a woman once and was slapped
back into reality with a vengeance and now devotes all his energy into building
his real estate empire, raising his teenaged daughter…and avoiding anything
resembling authentic attachments.
Melody Rodriguez kept her head down
for years—working hard, making her own money, trying to get ahead with every
deck stacked against her. She’s determined to move beyond the ugliness that
haunts her without anyone’s help. When a mutual friend sets her up with Trent,
she’s determined to have some fun with him and move on.
A man with nothing left to lose. A
woman hiding behind her past. When two lives spent in emotional denial collide,
it’s a perfect match—at least on the surface. But neither Trent nor Melody is
prepared for the full force of their true feelings, once fate intervenes and
blows a cold breeze into their white-hot relationship.
#BuyNow
Amazon US:http://amzn.to/2slMM4e
Add
the book to Goodreads ➜https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35279043-conditioned
Excerpt 1 rated R for language
He grabbed the remote and handed it to
me between bites. “Well? I thought I was getting subjected to that horrible
game.”
I took the remote, stuck my tongue out
at him and clicked on the telly. The match flickered on after a few seconds.
“Ah, right,” he said, sipping his beer,
then tucking into the soup. “The pretty boys game.”
“Damn straight,” I said, taking a bite
of my own carnitas creation. Pretty
damn good if I say so myself. “These men are fine.”
“Guapo?”
He raised a dark eyebrow at me, which intensified the heat gathering in areas
of my body I’d forgotten I even had.
“No. They’re too prima donna to be truly guapo.”
“Good. I like that word being reserved
for me.” He stood. “I need another one of those amazing tacos. And you’re
right. I hardly miss the cheese.”
“Of course I’m right.” I winked at him,
then felt my face flush so hot I put my hand to my cheek.
We sat in companionable silence,
regarding the game and eating for a while. As we leaned back, our feet up on
the table, finishing our second beers, the match got more intense. At one point
I leapt up and started cursing a stream of Spanish at the official.
“Calm down, already. What happened?”
Trent asked, amusement on his face.
“That hijo de puta claimed offsides and called back that goal! Are you
blind? Mierda!”
I flopped back onto the couch, this time
so close our thighs brushed together when I propped my feet back on the table.
“Offsides, eh?” Trent put his glass to
his lips and eyed me over the rim. “I have no idea what that means, at least in
this game.”
I shoved our plates aside, grabbed the
salt and pepper shakers and the empty beer bottles and attempted to explain it.
After ten utterly frustrating minutes, I gave up and threw my napkin at his
face after he asked one more stupid question. “Mierda! El burro sabe mas que te!”
He leaned back in mock horror. “Did you
just call me a burro? Is that like an ass?”
I dissolved into giggles at the look on
his face. “¡Mira qué cabrón! There, I
just called you a smartass.”
“Neat,” he said, grinning widely. We
stared at each other for a few seconds too long, then both turned to the match.
“For the record, I did say a burro was
smarter than you.”
“Ah, of course,” he said, getting up and
stretching right in front of me. I swallowed hard and made myself not look at
his ass. When he turned around again, his face had gone pensive. “Your poor,
beautiful face,” he said, out of the clear blue. “It’s all I can do to look at
you and not run out of here and kill that motherfucker.”
I blinked fast, covered by grabbing my
beer and totally missed my mouth. A dollop of the brew landed right on my best
Real jersey. I stared down at it in horror. Trent chuckled. I glared up at him,
daring him to say anything. He tried to stop laughing, but that made it worse.
By the time I’d gotten up for a towel and maybe a shot of that tequila, he was
practically rolling around on the floor in hysterics.
“Are you quite finished?” I asked,
brushing at the stain, my face so hot I could have warmed a whole house in the
middle of winter. I’d kept my back to him, the tall counter between us.
Mortification was making my vision blur. Or was that tears? Shit, I’d never get
this right. I was ruined. Ruined for relationships with real men, anyway. I
whirled around to tell him to take his funny bone and get the fuck out of my
apartment.
“I think…oh…”
He was there, in front of me, too close
for it to be in any way considered casual. His broad, black-cotton-covered
chest filled my vision. His scent—a clean, fresh, outdoorsy odor—filled my
nose. His voice—deep and musical—filled my soul.
“Melody,” he said, as he took my hands
in his and brought them to his lips. Mi
Dios, those lips! He kissed each one of my knuckles softly, keeping his
eyes on mine. Then he turned my hands over and pressed his lips to first one,
then the other of my palms.
“Trent,” I whispered, my mind awash with
images and sensations, all of them good for a change.
“Sh,” he whispered, placing my hands on
his shoulders, then sliding his hands around to the small of my back. “Sh, no
talking.” His smile lit up my entire universe—corny, but true and I’m not
ashamed to admit it. “I have wanted to kiss you since I saw you across that
diner.”
“When… Oh, right,” I said, my voice
breaking at the end like a silly virginal teenager’s.
Surely
he won’t want me, when he finds out I’m spoiled goods. Surely he won’t…Surely
he has got to be the best kisser in the entire known universe.
#MeetTheAuthor
Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger,
brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and
graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has
decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a
three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking
fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans
and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens
After?”).
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the
soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales
like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The
Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with
humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger
in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily
injury.
Liz Crowe writes intense true-to-life stories that make you feel.
Whether it's anxiety, love, fear, hate, bliss, or loss woven into her plot
lines, you will feel it deep down to your very soul.
--Audrey Carlan, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author
Liz Crowe is one of those rare authors who knows how to take the
emotions of her characters and make them real for her readers, binding you to
the story.”
---USA Today and Internationally Bestselling Author Desiree Holt
"Liz Crowe is my drug of choice for unconventional romance that
pushes the envelope of my comfort zone."
--Bestselling Author of the Enigma Series, Ditter Kellan
#SocialLinks
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