“What are you doing now that your team is out of the running for the Stanley Cup?”


I need to forget. I need an escape.

Only one person isn’t falling for my reputation as the NHL’s Golden Boy; she captured my attention the minute she called me out for snooping through my best friend’s house. She didn’t want to hear my reason–she only wanted to playfully give me a hard time.

Adalyn is bold, sassy–and the perfect escape.

She’s everywhere. In town and in my dreams, and suddenly I need to spend every waking moment with her.

And I do, making this summer the best off-season I’ve ever had.

But in the midst of getting lost in Adalyn, what I don’t expect is to get her pregnant.

And what I definitely don’t expect is having to fight for her affection.








★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Reviewed by Anna Green on behalf of KFF


So we finally get to read Hayden’s story. He was Noely’s third date in Three Blind Dates and Calder’s best friend in Back in The Game.  This is the third book in the Dating by Numbers series but can be read as a standalone.

Oh, what can I say about Hayden except he is that guy with the perfect abs, sensitive, romantic and his smooth moves on and off the ice make you feel like holding on tight to your knickers! He might be a little bit hot-tempered, but I totally get his game. He also has a close relationship with his family.  Like I said, he is the perfect package!

Adalyn is a young nurse, never had a serious relationship probably because a lot of guys were scared of her seven brothers. When she meets Hayden, she felt that instant connection with him. She is a compassionate woman who can be a bit scatty and naive.

This contemporary romance is told in dual points of view, although comparing it to the previous books, there aren’t as many laugh-out-loud moments, but a bit more drama. Obviously, the title of this book is a giveaway on how the story goes. I was gobsmacked with Adalyn’s carelessness because she is a nurse.  Hayden’s character can’t be more than perfect; he’s the better person in this story. His priorities, the decisions he made showed him to be the stand-up guy, one whom you can trust. I was a bit puzzled when the author added one chapter in Logan’s point of view, it felt out of sync.

By the way, Logan is Adalyn’s best friend and the “spoke” in the Hayden-Adalyn wheel of love. The comic relief in this romantic tale was provided by their friends: Racer, Calder and the rest of the guys from the previous books. I love their banter and camaraderie which is like a high school musical reunion with a grown-up; hunkier and funnier body humping Zac Efron in lieu of the dancing and singing. Wait, what am I talking about? Don’t take my words literally, that’s just how I felt. Read this book and find out for yourself.



“Would you mind zipping up the back of my dress?” She walks toward me, her flowery scent floating in my direction, spiking my yearning into overdrive.

“Uh, yeah . . . sure.”

She turns around, and looks over her shoulder. The back of her dress is completely open, the zipper undone to just above the curve of her beautifully round ass.

Shit, all that smooth, tan skin, covered by nothing but the velvety fabric of the dress. Is she wearing underwear? She’s not wearing a bra and I see no panty line.

Clearing my throat, I ask, “Are you wearing underwear, Adalyn?”

From over her shoulder, she smiles shyly. “Yes, it’s small though.”

Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

Not being able to stop myself, I take a second to float my fingertips up her spine. From the initial touch, her back arches and a small gasp releases from her lips, but before I can think about stopping, she melts into my touch. Stepping closer, I place my hand on the back of her hip, my thumb pressing into her ass while the other hand explores the bare expanse of her back. Her head falls to my shoulder. Her lips part, and when I snake to the front of her dress, her breath hitches.

Eyes closed, I take in ragged breaths, my fingers inching closer and closer to her front, my cock painfully hard.

It’s been so goddamn long—and being with Adalyn has only spurred on my need—but I want to make sure we’re in a good place before we commit to anything. I want to make sure she’s ready emotionally because the minute I bury myself deep inside her, I know there will be no turning back. She will be mine forever.

But maybe for now, I can just have a little touch . . .

My cock pressed against her butt, she expertly grinds her backside into me, her hands moving to my neck, pulling my head down to hers. I kiss the side of her neck, using the hand that’s gripping her hips to guide her with her grinding in just the right place.

Fuck, that feels good.

I grunt, the sound vibrating over her sleek neck. My hand on her stomach, she arches wanting more of my touch, silently asking me to move north.

And I fucking comply. Inch by slow inch, I guide my hand to just below her breasts. When I halt my pursuit, a displeased groan escapes her.

“Hayden, please.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to find the willpower. Her fingernails dig into my scalp, spurring me on as she turns her head and finds my lips.

She kisses me.




Her lips gliding across mine, her tongue diving into my mouth, her moans are vocal and sexy. Her delicious ass, pressing, grinding, undulating against my rock-hard cock makes me want to do so much more, makes me want to taste so much more.

Moving my hand higher, my fingertips graze the bottom of her breast. Soft. Round. Smooth. I caress her right below her nipple, never touching, just teasing . . . tempting.



Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

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BANE by L.J. Shen is on blog tour with KFF!


BANE, the highly-anticipated standalone in the Sinners of Saint Series
by L.J. Shen is LIVE!




Naked surfer. Habitual pothead. A con, a liar, a thief and a fraud.

Last I heard, he was extorting the rich and screwing their wives for a living.

Which is why I’m more than a little surprised to find him at my threshold, looking for my friendship, my services, and most puzzling of all—looking humbled.

Thing is, I’m on a boycott. Literally—I cut boys from my life. Permanently.

Problem is, Bane is not a boy, he is all man, and I’m falling, crashing, drowning in his sweet, perfect lies.

Jesse Carter

Hot as hell, cold as ice.

I wasn’t aware of her existence until a fat, juicy deal landed in my lap.

She’s a part of it, a little plaything to kill some time.

She is collateral, a means to an end, and a side-bonus for striking a deal with her oil tycoon stepdad.

More than anything, Jesse Carter is a tough nut to crack.

Little does she know, I have the f****** teeth for it.






A liar.

A con.

A godless thief.

My reputation was a big wave that I rode, one that swallowed everyone around me, drowning every attempt to fuck with what’s mine.

I’d been known as a stoner, but power was my real drug of choice. Money meant nothing. It was tangible, and therefore easy to lose. See, to me, people were a game. One I’d always known how to win.

Move the rooks around.

Change the queen when necessary.

Guard the king at all fucking times.

I was never distracted, never deterred, and never jealous.

So, imagine my surprise when I found myself being all three at once.

It was a siren with coal black hair who robbed me of riding the biggest wave I’d seen that summer. Of my precious attention. Of my goddamn breath.

She glided from the ocean to the beach like nightfall.

I crouched down, straddling my surfboard, gawking.

Edie and Beck stopped beside me, floating on their boards in my periphery.

“This one’s taken by Emery Wallace,” Edie had warned. Thief.

“This one’s the hottest masterpiece in town.” Beck had chuckled. Con.

“More importantly, she only dates rich bastards.” Liar.

I had all the ingredients to pull her in.

Her body was a patch of fresh snow. White, fair, like the sun shone through her, never quite soaking in. Her skin defied nature, her ass defied my sanity, but it was the words on her back that made my logic rebel.

It wasn’t her curves or the way she swayed her hips like a dangling, poisonous apple that warranted my reaction to her.

It was that tattoo I had noticed when she swam close to me earlier, the words trickling down the nape of her neck and back in a straight arrow.

My Whole Life Has Been Pledged to This Meeting with You


I only knew one person who went gaga over the Russian poet, and, like the famous Alexander, he was currently six feet under.

My friends began to paddle back to shore. I couldn’t move. It felt like my balls were ten tons heavy. I didn’t believe in love at first sight. Lust, maybe, but even that wasn’t the word I was looking for. No. This girl fucking intrigued me.

“What’s her name?” I snatched Beck’s ankle, yanking him back to me. Edie stopped pedaling and looked back, her gaze ping-ponging between us.

“Doesn’t matter, bro.”

“What’s. Her. Name?” I repeated through a locked jaw.

“Dude, she’s, like, way young.”

“I will not repeat myself a third time.”

Beck’s throat bobbed with a swallow. He knew damn well that I didn’t mess around. If she was legal—it was on.

“Jesse Carter.”

Jesse Carter was going to be mine before she even knew me.

Before I even knew her.

Before her life turned upside down and her fate rewrote itself with her blood.

So here was the truth that even my lying ass wouldn’t admit later on in our story—I wanted her before.

Before she became business.

Before the truth caged her in.

Before the secrets gushed out.

I never did get to surf that day.

My surfboard broke.

Should have known it was an omen.

My heart was going to be next in line.

And for a small chick, she did one hell of a fucking job obliterating it.



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1I'm not afraid (1)


★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Reviewed by Sharon Thérèse

Right, why I had such difficulty reviewing Shen’s standalone in the Sinners of Saint series is quite simple. A plot that’s faster than the speed of lightning and complex to boot not only brought out all the feelings, but once again left me in awe of her writing. However, not letting on for the future reader was my main concern because doing so would certainly be a crime. Therefore, I’m going to try to be brief which, if you’ve read any of my reviews, isn’t like me at all! No holds barred; the author has delved into trigger issues. Upsetting scenes for the most seasoned of bibliophiles are reduced with a dry wit second to none, soothing those who could be affected. That being said, after getting to know the ins and outs of the protagonists’ problems convinced me never to judge anyone’s behaviour until all the facts are presented. 

“We don’t remember every single day of our lives.” “And that’s a good thing, Jesse.” 

Happenings in the life of Roman Protsenko, aka Bane and an incident in Jesse Carter’s story are narrated at a provoking pace, resulting in me doing an all-nighter. Did I like it? Hmm…I paid for my sleep deficit the next morning with an awful book hangover. I felt that they were too young to be exposed to such a harsh start. One thing I really liked regardless of all the sadness was the humour both protagonists had. 

“Men in Black ain’t a verb.”
“Who are you, the grammar police? If so, you’d probably get jail time for saying ain’t.”

Bane managed to put himself at the top of my anti-hero-to-date list! Smug, no doubt about it! A reputation for getting away with blue murder, he has no wish to live said beliefs down and much less make excuses for himself. Dripping sarcasm, he’s a well-known manwhore. Yet I still fell head over heels for him. Why? Because regardless of what he thinks he is, underneath those layers of intrigue and lies, he’s a real softy with a huge heart. Question is, will his deceiving ways catch up on him?

‘Guilty. I felt guilty. And I never felt guilty in my life.’ 

My heart went out for Jesse. I felt her pain, understood how she felt, and would’ve gladly jumped into her story and given the people who made this merciful lass suffer a good-Kindle-hiding! Folk too close to home that couldn’t care less for her wellbeing made me so damn angry; others didn’t even deserve the time of day because if it weren’t their cruel actions, they wouldn’t have destroyed such an beautiful soul. Nonetheless, Jess is a fighter. How she comes back from a deep dark hole of depression makes for some really emotional reading…all I can say is thank goodness she had Bane to show her she was capable of facing her demons.

“You don’t need a prince, princess. You need a sword.” 

Ooh. My. Word! The story reaches a crescendo of such intensity and didn’t just leave me on tenterhooks, nooo…it blinkin’ well gnawed at my very being! I couldn’t sit still, was nervous as hell and couldn’t turn the pages quick enough. The prize; however, is an epilogue bringing the reader much more than they could ever have wished for. All this, and the excellent secondary character development, and a compassionate tale told from two perspectives in past tense are not only details worthy of mentioning, but made Bane an epic read. Bravo Shen!


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About LJ Shen

LJShenL.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.

Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets peoples’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.

She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.

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