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Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Book Blitz & Giveaway for Random on Tour Las Vegas by Julia Kent



Random on Tour: Las Vegas
Author: Julia Kent
Release date: August 15, 2017
Genre: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance

Description:

Now, you know my mama’s a gambler (sweeper, whatever....), so I guess I got to blame her for a little of this.

When the band got invited to do a big gig here in Las Vegas, I was so excited. Really excited. And when we got here, I was dazzled.

A little too dazzled. I blame the lights and the money and does Vegas pump a scent through the entire town that makes you think you’re a winner, or what?

Because I gambled all our money away. And by “our,” I mean the band’s money. All of it. Every dang cent.

Only no one knows. They’d kill me. So I have to find a way to make all that money back.

I have an idea. I got a good body and a smart mind.

(Quit laughing).

I can do this. I can fix this.

Really.

It’s just gonna get a little weird for a while.

Random on Tour: Las Vegas is the 9th book in Julia Kent’s New York Times bestselling Random series. When the band performs in Vegas, anything goes – including Darla’s dignity and all of the band’s savings. When a savior appears, though, there’s a trade-off for being rescued. A big one. How far is Darla willing to go?

Oh, please. It’s Darla. Like you have to even wonder...

This book is told from the point of view of Darla, Trevor and Joe.

Buy links:

Amazon US:  http://smarturl.it/rotlvazn
Amazon UK:   http://smarturl.it/rotlvuk
Amazon AU:  http://smarturl.it/rotlvau
Amazon CA:  http://smarturl.it/rotlvca
Nook/BN: http://bit.ly/2vmMJt8
iBooks: http://apple.co/2vTLBdO
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2v1WTOG
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2wcl2AD
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2hteCd6



Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://jkentauthor.com/
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/jkentauthor

Excerpts:

“If women could train themselves to perform their own oral sex, men would be sorely hurting,” I mused. Amy caught my eye and we transmitted one of those XX-chromosome messages that guys don’t even realize exist.

Thank God.

“Why?” Trevor seemed offended.

“We wouldn’t need you. Between sex toys, our own tongues, and sperm banks, buh-bye!”

“Oh, come on! Men are more than just cocks and tongues and sperm,” he protested.

Amy and I started cracking up.

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Maybe I was just living in a fantasyland. No, not the one where two hot rock stars/law school students fucked me four to five nights a week, declared their love for me, and made me feel important. Already got that.

I meant the one where people actually wanted to read the shit that comes out of my head. Mama always told me my imagination was like the town recycling center: plenty of good stuff in there, but Lordy, you got to sort through a lot of crap to find the treasure.
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“How about a blow job?”

“What?”

“A blow job.”

“We’re in the middle of a fight and you want me to put your dick in my mouth?”

“Yes.”

“And you think I should just give you that because...”

“Because it’s the best way to get over this tension.”

“I’m not feeling any tension.”

“Maybe you are,” I argued, touching the line of her jaw with my fingertips. It was the first time either of us had touched the other and I knew I was breaking my own rule. My old rule. I reached out for connection. In the past, I’d have viewed that as weak.

Now, I thought it made me more mature. Definitely more mature than Darla.

Which meant I won.

The blow job would just be a bonus.

“Where am I feeling tense, Joe?”

“In your jaw. It needs a good stretch.”

If Darla wore glasses, she’d have peered at me over them, but her eyebrows flying up and her chin tipping down was close enough.

“Besides, it’s hard to be mad at someone when you have their dick in your mouth,” I added in a low voice, trying to butter her up, turned on the longer we talked.

“You know this from experience?”

“What? No!”

---------------

Every person wishes they could swap normal for impossible. It’s the human condition, hardwired into us. Some of us turn bitter when it doesn’t happen. Others just keep trying until we waste the present, eyes focused straight ahead and unable to turn and see what’s right here, right now. A few of us mourn what we lost in the present, as if we once brushed against the hanging vines of the impossible but couldn’t grasp them.

And then there are the few who actually do it. Find the impossible and stake a claim.

Who gets a life like that? 

Me.

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“You’re walking a chicken on a leash, Darla.”

“Yes.”

“More than one chicken.”

“Yes.”

“A human dressed up as a chicken,” he clarified, as if I didn’t know that.

“Mmm hmm.” When you’re caught, don’t incriminate yourself. Stick to noncommittal consonants.

“On the Strip in Las Vegas.”

“Yes.”

“For… fun?”

“No.” The word came out all round and heavy in my mouth, protest in a single syllable. I looked at him like he was crazy. “I’m being paid.”

--------------

“Did you hear about the woman who died by suffocating on a guy’s penis?” I asked, all out of the blue. That’s how my brain worked sometimes, and hell if I understood it. Given any set of crises, I could compartmentalize and let at least one loose strand of gray matter float off in the wind, brought back by a breeze with a strange little factoid tucked away in the outback, coming forward to be uttered out of my no-filter mouth.

Plus, I needed time for the brain’s back burner to figure out how to give them an answer that fully conveyed my apologies and regret for being so stupid. Given that, why not distract them with a huge-dick story?

Trevor and Joe groaned in unison. They knew how I worked.

“He was from Peters, Ohio, wasn’t he?” Joe asked.

“I’ll get beer. We’re going to need it if this is one of her stories,” Trevor said, standing up and shaking his head as he and Joe exchanged a look I didn’t understand.

“No, not from Peters,” I said. “Trust me, if a guy back home had a cock that big, I’d know about it. Or have been dead long before I met you.”

They both froze, then slowly turned to look at me.

Oops.
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