Tag Archive | Tracey Alvarez

Release Blitz: Saying I Do by Tracey Alvarez

 

 

Title: Saying I Do
A Stewart Island Series Standalone
Author: Tracey Alvarez
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 19, 2017

 

Blurb

 

Marriage and happily-ever-after are for suckers…
Joe Whelan was fooled once on the way to the altar, and the
Irish doctor isn’t about to be an eejit over a woman again. Especially not one
who witnessed his broken-hearted humiliation years ago. He won’t be swayed by
the sparks that fly whenever his eyes meet MacKenna’s or distracted by her
sweet kisses. The only thing Joe cares about is preventing his sister from
making the biggest marital mistake of her life.
MacKenna Jones loves a good wedding—so long as she’s sewing
the bride’s gown, not walking down the aisle herself. Falling for Joe Whelan’s
sexy bedside manner wasn’t on the cards, neither was a seven-day road trip with
him to Las Vegas, the Marriage Capital of the World. When the stakes are so high, will these two
gun-shy cynics ever say I Do?

 

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Excerpt

Mac
continued to gaze lustfully into the all-marble bathroom and giant tub that
could easily hold a wedding party of six. As much as she wanted to soak in a
tub filled with bubbles, if she wasn’t to be a complete wreck meeting Joe’s
family later, she needed to crawl beneath those sheets and sleep for at least
an hour.
“Shower and
sleep,” she said. “I’m on an unstoppable trajectory to get clean and
unconscious.”
“Party pooper.”
He grinned
that sexy, promising a good time
grin, and she nearly caved. Before Mac changed her mind, she ducked into the
bathroom and shut the door. Locked it. Keeping temptation out of reach—for her,
not him. Tapping her phone, she selected her favorite playlist and cranked up
the volume. Nothing like Freddy Mercury’s soaring vocal plea for someone to
love to set the mood for a refreshing, loooong shower.
Mac sang
along—too bad if Joe didn’t like her voice—and took her time under the
steaming-hot jets while Freddy gave way to Madonna, Bryan Adams, and Simple
Minds.
Once her
fingers started to prune, she relented and got out, pouncing on the free bottle
of expensive body lotion. While Cyndi told the world about girls just wanting
to have fun, Mac finished slathering on the lotion. She’d been a little
premature turning down the opportunity to mess up the sheets with Joe because
parts of her were very refreshed.
She flung
open the bathroom door, shimmying everything she had, the chorus on her lips—and
met the startled gaze of Joe, beer bottle in hand…and two other men.
One sat on
the sofa, the other reclined on their bed, beer balanced on his flat stomach.
Three pairs of eyes locked on her assets, jaws sagged, followed by wide,
appreciative smiles by the two strangers. Joe turned a murderous stare at the
two men—who were obviously his brothers, judging by their same coloring and
bright blue eyes.
Mac froze
momentarily, like a possum in a hunter’s spotlight, a flight or fight response
kicking in, even though in this case, embarrassment would kill her before the
adrenaline overdose. She bit down on the urge to shriek like a train whistle
and slapped an attitude-infused hand on her waist instead. What was the point
of rushing away when men had a photographic memory for boobs and bums? They’d
be retelling this story for years.
“You must
be Joe’s brothers,” she said. “Nice to meetcha.” As if she met her boyfriend’s
family bare-assed every day of the week.
“Pleasure
is all ours,” said the brother from the bed, lifting his beer in a silent
toast. “I’m Kyle.”
“Luke,” the
older of the two men said, from the sofa. “We brought beer.”
Both men,
after their initial surprise, met her gaze squarely without their gazes
lowering to her…assets. Now if she could just figure out how to make a graceful
exit…
Joe solved
the issue by hauling the gold-and-purple bed runner off the comforter and
crossing the room in double time to wrap it around her, using the bulk of his
body to block his brothers’ view.
“Flippin’
hell, Mac,” he muttered, tucking the tail of fabric between her breasts.
His voice
was gruff, but not with the chastisement she’d assumed. His face told her he
was caught between laughter, annoyance, and possessive arousal. Suddenly, she
wanted the Whelan brothers gone. Suddenly, she didn’t need a nap, she just
needed Joe.

 

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Author Bio

 

Tracey Alvarez is a
USA Today Bestselling Author living in the Coolest Little Capital in the World
(a.k.a Wellington, New Zealand). Married to a wonderfully supportive IT guy,
she has two teens who would love to be surgically linked to their electronic
devices.
Fuelled by copious
amounts of coffee, she’s the author of contemporary romantic fiction set predominantly
in New Zealand. Small-towns, close communities, and families are a big part of
the heart-warming stories she writes. Oh, and hot, down-to-earth heroes—Kiwi
men, in other words.
When she’s not
writing, thinking about writing, or procrastinating about writing, Tracey can
be found with her nose in her e-reader, nibbling on smuggled chocolate bars, or
bribing her kids to take over the housework. 

 

 

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Release Blitz: Teach Your Heart (Far North #3) by Tracey Alvarez

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Book Title: Teach Your Heart
Author: Tracey Alvarez
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 30 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

Some lessons are harder to learn than others…

Doctor O-for-Awesome Owen Bennett is all about fixing broken things. Then the arrival of his orphaned nieces and nephew for twelve weeks causes his workaholic life to plummet into chaos. Hiring the beautiful but unpredictable Gracie Cooper as a live-in nanny might just get him out of a tight spot…or it could seduce him into a reckless affair.

After four years flitting around Europe, waitress/dog-walker/au-pair Gracie Cooper has returned home to New Zealand. Her plans to hang out with her big brother change when Owen offers a perfect solution to her crippling university debt. In spite of her sexy-stick-in-the-mud boss, she’ll spend fun days playing in Bounty Bay’s sand and surf with three cute kids. At summer’s end she’ll follow the sun overseas again.

Gracie and Owen’s opposites-attract connection is so unexpected and powerful that their foundations are rocked. But some things aren’t easy to fix. Some past hurts can’t be run from forever. And the lessons they teach each other risk breaking their hearts.

excerpt

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you,” came his voice from behind the closed drapes.

“I’m awake. I’m awake.”

Parts of her were very awake, so make that three-quarters turned on since a delicious shiver zipped down her spine at the thought of him outside her room. She tugged on her robe, catching a glimpse of herself in the wall mirror.

Ugh.

Resisting the real deal wouldn’t be a problem. Rephrase that—Owen resisting her wouldn’t be a problem. Not sporting frizzy hair like a before photo for a hair-straightening product, her face flushed carnation pink, and a deep pillowcase groove marking her cheek. Dead sexy. Not.

And, oh God—morning breath. Gracie lunged for her handbag and found a packet of mints. She popped one into her mouth and speed-crunched it as she tightened the robe’s belt.

Finally, she yanked the full length drapes open to a bare-footed Owen wearing ancient blue jeans—which, yum, clung to his legs—and a plaid shirt layered over a white tee shirt. His short brown hair stuck up in a dozen different directions, and two days’ worth of stubble covered his jaw. And, yeah, she’d noticed he hadn’t shaved when he’d disappeared off to work yesterday morning.

Gracie slid open the door, and a wave of salt-tinted ocean breeze swept over her. She took a moment to suck a deep lungful down and hoped the fresh air flowing into her room would cool her jets. So to speak. Because even as jaded as Owen looked—and, bless him, it proved he was actually human—she still wanted to grab him by his plaid lapels and kiss the living daylights out of him again.

She tucked her hands under her armpits, just in case, and leaned on the doorframe. “Let me guess…since I’m a former bartender, you’d like me to whip you up a hair of the dog?”

He crinkled his nose. Adorable and hot—so unfair.

“I’m not hungover,” he said.

“My bad. You’re not your usual Barbie Dreamhouse self. Rough night?”

“You could say that.” He scratched his fingernails along his jaw. “But Barbie Dreamhouse?”

“Charlie thinks you look like a Ken doll.”

“Nice. Glad to inform you that I’m not molded from plastic.” His lips curved. “You’re not looking Barbie Dreamhouse yourself this morning. Rough night?”

True, but ouch. “Now that we’ve established I look like Frankenstein’s bride—”

“Never said that. I think you look cute. All rumpled and flushed like you’ve just been”—his gaze dipped to the V-neckline of her robe then jumped up to rest on her mouth—“woken up by some jerk banging on your door.”

Like you’ve just been…banged senseless in the last few minutes. Seriously not helping her control her internal thermostat.

©Tracey Alvarez 2016

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meet the author

USA Today Bestselling author Tracey Alvarez lives in the Coolest Little Capital in the World (a.k.a Wellington, New Zealand). Married to a wonderfully supportive IT guy, she has two teens who would love to be surgically linked to their electronic devices.

Fuelled by copious amounts of coffee, she’s the author of contemporary romantic fiction set predominantly in New Zealand. Small-towns, close communities, and families are a big part of the heart-warming stories she writes. Oh, and hot, down-to-earth heroes—Kiwi men, in other words.

When she’s not writing, thinking about writing, or procrastinating about writing, Tracey can be found with her nose in her e-reader, nibbling on smuggled chocolate bars, or bribing her kids to take over the housework.

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Ready to Burn by Tracey Alvarez, Release Day Event & Giveaway

Ready to Burn Release Day

Release Day Event

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Book Title: Ready To Burn (Due South Book 3)
Author: Tracey Alvarez
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 25th, 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Synopsis

Take one sassy Harland girl…

Shaye Harland, sous chef de-awesome, desperately wants the role of Due South’s head chef. Though a little out of her depth, she can totally cope with the extra demands if she can resist her future brother-in-law when he muscles in on her kitchen. The Hollywood wannabe is nothing but a troublesome distraction and he fries her sex-ometer to a crisp. But as far as romance? Forget it. Love, when she finds Mr. Perfect, will be as sweet as her to-die-for cookies.

Add a bad-boy from LA…

Del Westlake swore he’d never again set foot on the island he calls the “ass end of New Zealand.” With his reputation as a sous chef in one of LA’s hottest restaurants trashed, and his estranged father’s restaurant needing a head chef, Del wants nothing more than to go in, get the job done, and get out. Except his feisty second-in-command carves herself a spot in his heart and completely incinerates his plans.

Watch the sparks fly as they burn it up in the kitchen…

Winning a spot on a TV reality show is just what Del needs to jumpstart his career back in the States. Nothing can get in the way of him winning—not even the woman whose trust he’d destroy if she discovers his secrets. But with a film crew capturing the explosive kitchen chemistry between them, will his bad-boy ways rear up and ruin his shot at becoming Shaye’s Mr. Perfect?

Meet the Author

Tracey Alvarez Bio Photo

Tracey Alvarez lives in the Coolest Little Capital in the World (a.k.a Wellington, New Zealand) where she’s yet to be buried under her to-be-read book pile by Wellington’s infamous wind—her Kindle’s a lifesaver! Married to a wonderfully supportive IT guy, she has two teens who would love to be surgically linked to their electronic devices.

Fuelled by copious amounts of coffee, she’s the author of contemporary romantic fiction set predominantly in New Zealand. Small-towns, close communities, and families are a big part of the heart-warming stories she writes. Oh, and hot, down-to-earth heroes—Kiwi men, in other words.

When she’s not writing, thinking about writing, or procrastinating about writing, Tracey can be found reading sexy books of all romance genres, nibbling on smuggled chocolate bars, or bribing her kids to take over the housework.


excerpt

One second Del stood beside her all moody and mysterious, and the next, his hands gripped the railing on either side of her hips. He moved fast—fast enough that she made an embarrassing little eep-ish squawk. Nowhere to go unless she became flexible enough to do a flip over the wooden railing.

Shaye yanked her hands from her pockets and gave his chest a shove. “Back off.”

Even after she added her sous chef do it now or die glare, he stayed, big and bad and way too close. He continued watching her with dark and unreadable eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed.

Her hands didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t put them back on those two hard pecs, since every single nerve-ending had soaked up the heat burning through Del’s shirt and transmitted swoony, oh yeah sighs into her brain.

Stupid nerve-endings. Stupid brain.

She wriggled her bottom, so she half sat on the railing, arching away from him. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you the reason.”

The rough timbre of his voice stroked over her. Wickedly dark, decadently rich, scarily addictive. Like chocolate, the quality stuff made of eighty percent pure cacao.

He leaned forward, his face level with hers. “It’s a compelling reason.”

Shaye’s hand shot out to grip his biceps—that or topple backward—but God, he felt amazing. All hard, sinewy muscle and why the hell couldn’t she unhook her fingers?

Her breathing hitched, high and ragged. “My sister’s a cop, and I know how to defend myself.”

“So, show me your ninja moves.”

“Daring a cornered woman to hurt you isn’t very bright.”

One of his hands rasped off the wooden railing and touched the end of her ponytail. He selected a strand and stroked it down her jaw. Shaye licked her lips, unable to suck her gaze from his mouth, which angled closer. Close enough that she could tell the flavor of the last handful of potato chips he’d eaten.

Salt and vinegar. Her favorite.

She strained upward to see if he tasted as good as he smelled…Freaking hell

Shaye reared back a little, hair slipping from his fingers, her chin narrowly missing his. “Are you going to kiss me?”

Her heart gave a little bunny-hop at the thought and leaped around her ribs.

“Not unless you ask real nice.”

“Ask you?” There was that damn smirk of his again. She should’ve guessed he was playing with her. “When pigs fly.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but the smile didn’t falter. “Now you’ll have to say, ‘Please, Del. With a cherry on top.’”

“I’d jam that cherry up your nose before I’d kiss you, Hollywood. Get outta my face.”

His gaze dipped once to her mouth then flicked up. “I can’t go anywhere while you’re grabbing onto me.”

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