Bad Influence by Stefanie London – Spotlight and Giveaway

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Stefanie London who is celebrating the upcoming release on February 26 of Bad Influence, the newest book in her Bad Bachelors series. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a copy of the first book in the series Bad Bachelor.

He’s the bad bachelor who inspired it all…

Annie Maxwell had her whole life figured out…until her fiancé left her when his career took off. If that wasn’t bad enough, every society blog posted pictures of him escorting a woman wearing her engagement ring. To help the women of New York avoid guys like her ex, Annie created the Bad Bachelors app. But try as she might, Annie just can’t forget him…

For bank executive Joe Preston, his greatest mistake was leaving the love of his life when she needed him most. Now, all he wants is to make things right—and she won’t have him. But when Annie’s safety is threatened by a hacker determined to bring down her app, Joe is the only one she can turn to. He’ll have to lay himself on the line to prove to Annie that he’s a changed man. But will their hard-won bond survive the revelation that Annie is the one pulling the strings behind Bad Bachelors?

Bad Bachelors:
Bad Bachelor (Book 1)
Bad Reputation (Book 2)
Bad Influence (Book 3)

Enjoy an Excerpt

“You’re not thinking about seeing him again, are you?” Darcy shoved the sleeve of her sweater up, exposing her elaborate tattoos. “Please tell me you’re not in self-destruct mode.”

“I’m not,” Annie said, unsure which of the two things she was actually addressing.

She should be repulsed by the thought of having Joseph back in her life. Spitting in anger that he’d waltzed back into Manhattan and was hanging around “their place” without warning her. But the fact was, Friday night had shifted something between them. He’d come to her rescue when she’d needed him.

This time. Let’s not forget that his presence and attention are conditional.

Darcy pulled on a pair of pink rubber gloves and wrenched Annie’s mother’s old, squeaky taps. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not thinking about seeing him again.”

The answer should have been an immediate absolutely not, but the words didn’t spring to Annie’s lips. “Maybe it’ll give me some closure.”

“It’s been three years. What other information could change the way you feel?”

“I don’t know.”

“The answer is none. Nothing will change what happened.” She squirted detergent into the basin and Annie watched the luminescent bubbles multiply under the hot water. “Think about the reasons why he might want to talk to you. Stay the hell away. Trust me, your sanity will thank you.”

Of course, she knew Darcy was right. When Joseph had walked out, she’d fallen to pieces. Her friends had helped put her back together. They’d crashed at her place that first night—Darcy and Remi sleeping on the cramped pullout sofa bed—to make sure she got up the next morning and ate a proper breakfast. They’d stood by her while she called her boss and asked for a few days off to deal with it. They’d plied her with wine and pizza and cheesy movies.

They’d gone to the hospital with her after her mother’s mastectomy, held her hand, and promised her that everything would be okay. Things he should have done.

“What are you two gossiping about?” Her mother appeared in the doorway, a knowing smile on her lips. Only she wouldn’t be smiling if she actually knew that their “boy talk” was about he who should not be named.

Darcy shot Annie a look. “Your daughter is harassing me about my charity run.”

Connie snorted. “That sounds like her.”

“Ma! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Her mother walked over and wrapped her arms around her, her head barely coming up to Annie’s chin. She smelled like lemon and sweet basil and perfume. Like always. It struck Annie, even now, that her mother’s shape was so permanently changed. She’d decided not to have reconstructive surgery after the double mastectomy—one to address the cancer and one as a preventive measure—having always hated her huge bust. But they’d never actually talked about it. And Annie hadn’t wanted to pressure her mother when she knew it was still a painful topic.

Her mother and Sal had always been determined to “protect” their kids from anything painful in life, including their health problems. At the time, they’d hid Connie’s diagnosis until it was decided she needed to have surgery. Had Annie known about her mother’s situation earlier, she might never have agreed to go to Singapore. Perhaps with that on the table from the get-go, things might have turned out differently between Annie and Joseph.

But it hadn’t, and knowing her parents were inclined to harbor such big secrets had made Annie jittery. And untrusting.

Wow, and the hypocrite of the year award goes to…?

“You know I love you, topolina. But you are a giant pain in the ass sometimes.” Connie’s loud laugh ricocheted off the worn linoleum and weathered walls.

“Charming,” Annie replied, extracting herself from her mother’s embrace and heading behind the breakfast bar to gather more dishes. “Let me know when we want to do dessert, and I’ll get some coffee going.”

“Soon. The girls have gone for a walk and the boys are in the garage.” She attempted to muscle her way into the kitchen to help, but both women waved her away.

Connie rested against the breakfast bar. Her once-chocolate-brown hair was now peppered with gray. The lines had deepened around her eyes, which still had a mischievous twinkle, and she wore her signature bright-pink lipstick.
To Annie, she would always be the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth. And the bravest.

“So,” Connie said. Annie’s ears pricked up at her tone. It was the I’ve heard something interesting tone. “When were you going to tell me Joseph is back in town?”

Darcy made a choking sound and Annie froze, her back to her mother as she dried one of the white ceramic platters. “Huh?”

“I ran into Zia Mariella at Costco, who said she’d had lunch with Anna-Maria from down the street, and she had spoken with Petra—Petra who’s married to Tony—whose grandson works for one of the banks, and he read an article saying Joseph is now the chief something-or-other.”

Annie blinked as her brain took the necessary time to catch up with her mother’s story. “Wait, which Petra?”

Connie ignored her question and narrowed her eyes. “Did you know?”

Darcy looked like she was about to back out of the kitchen, so Annie grabbed her wrist, shooting her a Don’t you dare leave me look. Crap. What was she supposed to do now? She never lied to her parents. Ever.

“Uhhh…”

“You did know.” Connie’s lips flattened into a line so thin that almost all of the pink lipstick disappeared. “How could you not tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to know, to be honest.” Annie tucked her hair behind her ear. Shit. This was not a time for her tells. When it came to dealing with her mother’s warpath, the mantra needed to be: Show no weakness!

“Well, I do.” Connie planted her hands on her hips. “So now I can tell him to leave again. He’s not welcome in this city.”

Her mother would definitely freak the hell out if she knew he’d been in Annie’s apartment.

“Thanks, Mayor Mama. I’ll be sure to revoke his Connie visa.” She rolled her eyes.

About the Author: Stefanie London is the USA Today bestselling author of over twenty contemporary romances and romantic comedies.

Stefanie’s books have been called “genuinely entertaining and memorable” by Booklist, and her writing praised as “Elegant, descriptive and delectable” by RT magazine. Her stories have earned accolades such as the RT Top Pick and have achieved bestseller status with USA Today and iBooks.

Growing up, Stefanie came from a family of women who loved to read. After sneaking several literature subjects into her ‘very practical’ Business degree, she worked in HR and Communications. But writing emails for executives didn’t fulfil her creative urges, so she turned to fiction and was finally able to write the stories that kept her mind busy at night.

Originally from Australia, she now lives in Toronto with her very own hero and is currently in the process of doing her best to travel the world. She frequently indulges in her passions for good coffee, lipstick, romance novels and anything zombie-related.

Website

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Indiebound, or BAM.

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Bad Reputation by Stefanie London – Spotlight and Giveaway

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Stefanie London who is visiting with us to celebrate today’s release of Bad Reputation, part of the Bad Bachelors series. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post to win a copy of the first book of the series Bad Bachelor.

It’s true, Wes is well-endowed.
But everything else is a huge misunderstanding…

Wes Evans, son of Broadway royalty, just wants to achieve something without riding his family’s coattails. Too bad the whole world is talking about his sex life after the notorious Bad Bachelors app dubs him “The Anaconda”. But when he sees a talented ballet dancer, he knows she is exactly what he needs to make his show a success.

Remi Drysdale only had one thought when she fled Australia for New York—never mix business with pleasure again. Ever. Working with Wes is the perfect chance to reclaim her career. Remi promises herself not to tangle with the guy who holds her career in his hands…no matter how enticing his reviews are on the Bad Bachelors app.

Enjoy an Excerpt

He leaned back in his chair, legs spread slightly apart. The pose was unabashedly male, and Remi shifted her gaze away from him, turning back to face the empty rows of seats representing the audience. The last thing she needed was the “Anaconda” staring back at her while she tried to nail these steps.

“Three, two, one.” She counted herself in and rose up into relevé.

Her toes protested, but she gritted her teeth. She couldn’t let Wes see she was struggling. Not when he’d placed so much faith in her.

She stepped up onto the chair, her floaty, chiffon skirt swirling around her thighs. Swish, swish, kick. Her foot sailed over his lap, missing him easily and she tried not to be distracted by the blue eyes trained intently on her. Swish, swish, kick. She turned, stepping into an arabesque, facing him, her back leg extended away from the chairs. Her ankle wobbled, the chair uneven enough that if she didn’t rise up in exactly the right spot, she couldn’t get a flat surface to balance on.

She wobbled again and fell forward, her hand coming down on Wes’s shoulder.

“Whoa.” He grabbed her easily, steadying her so she could bring her other foot down to the chair.

Humiliation burned in her cheeks. The other dancers seemed so much more at ease, so much more professional. They weren’t scared by the strangeness of the moves or the challenge of working with these props.

“I wanted to practice alone tonight,” she bit out. She was annoyed at herself for feeling so far behind, rather than at him for turning up unannounced. After all, he had every right to be there. “I’ll get it, I promise.”

“I know you will.” He stood, his hands still on her.

Her chest rose and fell, the deep breaths threatening more emotion that she desperately tamped down. Wes moved in front of her, his other hand coming up to smooth over her hip. He settled it on the other side of the waist.

“I’m going to hold you,” he said. “Go back into arabesque.”

Swallowing, she rose onto pointe and stretched into the position. Her back leg extended behind her, pulling up to create a perfect, elongated shape. Her arms floated in front, one slightly higher than the other as she looked out over her fingertips, concentrating on the crack in the beige wall on the other side of the studio.

She held the position, feeling safe with his hands holding her steady. It’d been so long since she’d had a partner to give her a safety net. To make sure she didn’t fall.

Remi didn’t dare look down, fearing that staring into Wes’s eyes might bring the most painful memories rushing back. She’d fallen in love once before in this very predicament—frightened of a new challenge, but with a strong, charming man holding her steady.

His touch burned through the fabric, sending sparks showering over her. The frayed edges of her nerves left her open, susceptible. They made her an easy target, like a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights. Ready to be flattened. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat, her heart slamming against her rib cage.

This wasn’t the effects of a memory.

It was the very real chemistry she’d walked away from the night they’d met at the bar. The kind of chemistry that was often imitated, rarely experienced. She knew choreographed chemistry, orchestrated chemistry. But this…this would burn her alive if she let it.

“Did you prove your point?” Her voice wobbled. Traitorous thing.

“What do you think my point was?” he asked.

Gone was the easy, humorous crinkles that normally bracketed his blue eyes. Gone was the cheeky smirk that lifted his lips, the one that always made her tummy flutter. Instead, he stared at her intently. Studying. Assessing. Like he could see a hell of a lot more than she wanted him to.

“To show me I can conquer my fears and all that. Was it meant to be a teachable moment?” She hated herself for trying to tarnish the flickering connection between them by being a sarcastic bitch. But Remi didn’t do vulnerable. She didn’t do open. Not anymore.

“I’m here to help you,” he said, frustration giving his tone a sharp edge. “Call it a ‘teachable moment’ if you like. Call it whatever the hell you want. But the reason I’m here is because I want this show to be a resounding success, and in order for that to happen, I need to make sure you slay whatever demon is lurking in your head.”

Yeah, he saw way too much.

“No demons,” she lied. “Just a fear of props.”

“Bullshit. We both know there’s more to it than that.”

He was still touching her, and she was still letting him. His strong hands made her waist look fragile. Made her look fragile.

You don’t want to be bloody fragile. You want to be a strong, badass ballerina who doesn’t need a man to save her.

But she was failing miserably.

“Help me down?” she asked, forcing a smile. She needed to break this spell. ASAP.

“Only if you stop feeding me bullshit,” he replied. “I know you probably come from a place where keeping your mouth shut is the only way to get ahead. I’ve been there too. But I can’t help you if you’re acting like I’m the enemy.”

“What if you can’t help me at all?” she whispered.

He tightened his hands around her and helped her down from the chair, the change in angle casting shadows across his face. Remi wasn’t short by any means, but Wes towered over her. He leaned forward, his dark hair flopping across his forehead. Without thinking, she reached up and brushed it back.

“I will keep pushing, Remi. I will poke and shove and I will make you angry enough to get out of your own head.” He pinned her with his stare. “I won’t let this show fail.”

Disappointment stabbed at her chest. Of course it was all about the show—she was doing the same stupid thing that she’d done before. Misinterpreting signs. Reading too much into things. Hearing what she wanted to hear.

Wasn’t that what Alex had said to her? If you thought I loved you, it was because you wanted to think that. Not because I meant it.

“I won’t let you fail.” Wes’s voice had turned rough. Gritty.

Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for him.

About the Author: Stefanie London is the USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and romantic comedy. Originally from Melbourne, Australia, Stefanie now lives in Toronto, Canada with her husband. She loves to read, collect lipsticks, watch zombie movies and drink coffee. Her bestselling book, Pretend It’s Love, was a 2016 Romantic Book of the Year finalist with the Romance Writers of Australia.

Website

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, or Kobo.

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