This novel centres around the relationship of Phoenix and Braeden. They meet strangely in a psychiatric hospital where Phoenix is the patient and Braden works there.  Phoenix is dark, she is sad and distant but, there is a ray of sunlight somewhere. Braeden by her side she is able to blossom. I loved how one by one she was able to develop a family with those that helped her at the psychiatric hospital and I honestly felt happy that she was given that gift. In terms of her relationship with Braeden she has her ups and downs but this can only be expected and what blossoms between them is nothing shirt of beautiful.

As for Braeden, I loved him! I knew he was a  fantastic match for Phoenix. It is told over a few times there is a likeness between Braeden’s Mother and Phoenix. I was captivated and I have been on a roll with reading some really great stuff, this is one! It didn’t disappoint and kept me glued to the Kindle. 

I was pleasantly surprised at the was the author went about some dark things and a deep issue. Very well written with great characters.

Buy it on Amazon

“You deserve better. You deserve someone you can touch. Who has the capability to…..feel.” 
― S.A. Rolls, A Brand New Ending

“As long as we bear these scars we will always be reminded.” 
― S.A. Rolls, A Brand New Ending

“It comes down to if you love me or not, the rest is just details.” 
― S.A. Rolls, A Brand New Ending

“Her whole life has been rough dad,” I whisper. “She’s too young to have experienced this much pain.” 
― S.A. Rolls, A Brand New Ending

“In a place where I truly know no one, I feel the most at home.” 
― S.A. Rolls, A Brand New Ending

“I just want to show her that her life is worth living, that she can’t let her past dictate her future.” 
― S.A. Rolls, A Brand New Ending

Goodreads  ==  Amazon   ==  Amazon Kindle book

Book Description:

A fallen boxer.

A woman with a broken dream.

A competition…

IS HE FOR REAL?

He makes me forget my name. One night was all it took, and I forgot everything and anything except the sexy fighter in the ring who sets my mind ablaze and my body on fire with wanting…

Remington Tate is the strongest, most confusing man I’ve ever met in my life.

He’s the star of the dangerous Underground fighting circuit, and I’m drawn to him as I’ve never been drawn to anything in my life. I forget who I am, what I want, with just one look from him. When he’s near, I need to remind myself that I am strong–but he is stronger. And now it’s my job to keep his body working like a perfect machine, his taut muscles primed and ready to break the bones of his next opponents . . .

But the one he’s most threatening to, now, is me.

I want him. I want him without fear. Without reservations.

If only I knew for sure what it is that he wants from me?

Excerpt #2

His head angles to the sound, only one dimple showing with a sexy smile as he faces us. A frisson of nervous energy passes through me, not because he’s extremely gorgeous from this perfect view—because he is, he definitely is, oh shit, he really is—but because he’s looking straight at me.

One eyebrow cocks, and there’s a glimmer of amusement in his entrancing blue eyes. Also something…warm in his gaze. Like he thinks I’m the one who shouted. Oh, shit.

He winks at me, and I’m stunned that he keeps hold of my gaze, his smile slowly fading. Suddenly it morphs into one that’s unbearably intimate.

My blood simmers.

            My sex clenches tight, and I hate that he seems to know it.

            I can see he thinks he’s the ultimate creation of God, and he seems to think every woman here is his Eve, created out of his ribcage for him to enjoy. I’m both aroused and infuriated and this is the most confusing feeling I’ve ever had in my life. His lips curl then, and he turns when his opponent is announced with the words, “Kirk Dirkwood, “The Hammer,” here for all of you tonight!”

“You little slut, Mel!” I cry when I can recover, shoving her playfully. “Why did you have to scream like that? He thinks I’m the nutcase now.”

“Ohmigod, he did not just wink at you,” Melanie says, stunned.

            Oh my god, he had. Hadn’t he? He did.

About the Author

Katy Evans writes books with lots of kissing and wanting and sexy dangerous males. She’s married with two children and three dogs and spends her time baking, walking, writing, reading, and having fun with her family. She’d love to hear from you at; authorkatyevansATgmail.com

Author social media links:

Facebook

Twitter

http://atomrbookblogtours.com

Title: REAL

Author: Katy Evans

Release date: April 9, 2013

Genre:  Contemporary Romance

Age Group:  Mature New Adult/ Adult

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17617277-real

Book Description:

A fallen boxer.

A woman with a broken dream.

A competition…

IS HE FOR REAL?

He makes me forget my name. One night was all it took, and I forgot everything and anything except the sexy fighter in the ring who sets my mind ablaze and my body on fire with wanting…

Remington Tate is the strongest, most confusing man I’ve ever met in my life.

He’s the star of the dangerous Underground fighting circuit, and I’m drawn to him as I’ve never been drawn to anything in my life. I forget who I am, what I want, with just one look from him. When he’s near, I need to remind myself that I am strong–but he is stronger. And now it’s my job to keep his body working like a perfect machine, his taut muscles primed and ready to break the bones of his next opponents . . .

But the one he’s most threatening to, now, is me.

I want him. I want him without fear. Without reservations.

If only I knew for sure what it is that he wants from me?

About the Author

Katy Evans writes books with lots of kissing and wanting and sexy dangerous males. She’s married with two children and three dogs and spends her time baking, walking, writing, reading, and having fun with her family. She’d love to hear from you at; authorkatyevansATgmail.com

Author social media links:

Facebook

Twitter

http://atomrbookblogtours.com

:

Excerpt #1

Melanie has been shouting in my ear for the past half hour and my nerves are so frazzled by what we’re witnessing, I can barely even hear anything. Only my heart. Pounding like crazy in my head as the two fighters in the underground boxing ring lunge at each other, both men equal in height and weight, both extremely muscled as they pound their faces in.

Every time one of them lands a punch, cheers and claps burst across the room, which is crowded with at least three hundred spectators, all of them thirsting for blood. The worst part of it all is that I can hear the god-awful sound of bone cracking against flesh, and the hairs on my arms are pricked in utter fear. Any minute now I expect one of them to fall and never, ever, get up.

“Brooke!” Melanie, my best friend, squeals and hugs me. “You look ready to puke, you are so not cut out for this!”

I’m seriously going to kill her.

As soon as I take my eyes off these men and make sure they’re both breathing when they finish this round, I’m going to murder my best friend without mercy. And then myself, for agreeing to come into this place in the first place.

But my poor, dear Melanie has a new man-crush, and as soon as she found out the object of her nightly fantasies was in the city participating in these “private” and very “dangerous” underground club fighting games, she begged me to come with her and watch him. It’s just hard to say no to Melanie. She’s effusive and insistent, and now she’s jumping in glee.

“He’s next!” she hisses, uncaring of who won this last round, and if they even survived. Which apparently, thank God, they both did. “Get ready for some serious piece of eye-candy, Brooky!”

The public falls silent, and the announcer calls, “Ladies and gentlemen, and noooww…the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the man you’re all here to see. The baddest of the bad, I give you, the one, the only, Remington “Riptide” Tate!”

A shiver runs along my spine as the crowd goes crazy with the name alone, especially the women, and their eager shouts tumble one atop the other.

“Remy! I love you, Remy!”

“I’ll suck your cock for you, Remy!”

“REMY, POUND ME, REMY!”

“Remington I want your Riptide!”

All heads turn as a figure in a hooded red cape heads toward the ring. The fighters tonight, apparently, don’t wear boxing gloves, and I see his fingers flex and unflex at his sides, his hands enormous and tanned, his fingers long.

Across the ring from me, a woman with a poster that reads, “REMY’S #1 BITCH” waves it proudly in the air, and she’s screaming to the top of her lungs in his direction—I guess in case he doesn’t know how to read or misses the neon pink letters, or the glitter.

I’m so astounded, only now realizing my crazy best friend isn’t the only female in Seattle who’s apparently lost her head for this guy, when I feel her squeezing my arm. “I dare you to look at him and tell me you wouldn’t do anything for that man.”

“I wouldn’t do anything for that man,” I instantly repeat, just to win.

“You’re not looking!” She squeals. “Look at him. Look.”

She grabs my face and directs my gaze in the direction of the ring, but I start laughing instead. Melanie loves men. Loves to sleep with them, stalk them, drool about them, and yet when she catches them, she can never really hold onto them. I, on the other hand, am not interested in getting involved with anyone.

My romantic little sister has had enough boyfriends, and drama, for both of us.

I stare up at the stage as the guy whips off the satin red robe with the word RIPTIDE in the back, and the spectators scream and stand cheering as he slowly turns to acknowledge them all. His face is suddenly before me, illuminated by the lights, and I just stare like an idiot from my place. My God.

My.

God.

You know sometimes you start “chapter 1” and BAM it hits you. You get it, feel it, want more of it! This is going to be a phenomenal book! I set up my average reading time and my Kindle says I can finish it in 4 hours Here goes! 

Author on Amazon

Live on AMAZON

Twitter @msmeltzer9793

 

 

 

The Genre Dilemma

I have no idea what types of books I write, so I file them under genres like “Mature YA” and “New Adult.” I don’t even really understand these genres (and I suspect no one else does either), but they sound good. And I know they have something to do with older teens and people in their twenties. And they usually include some bad language and risqué situations/themes. So I guess my stories sort of fit, like shoving a size 8 foot into a size 6 shoe.

The problem? I write about ultra mature/ultra taboo topics. And so far they’ve involved teenagers. So you have the “f” word. And you have teens. And you have something really taboo like rape. “F” word + teens + rape = NO GENRE. And I will not classify them as Adult fiction. I refuse because I truly believe they are not (but adults are more than welcome to read them, of course).

New Adult is by far the closest, but even that genre requires . . . oh, I don’t even know what you call it. Mild restraint? Or maybe it doesn’t. I don’t know. What I do know is that I’ve yet to come across a book about teenagers that just puts it all out there. Raw. In your face. Makes you completely uncomfortable. Maybe outraged. “This is a book for teens?! How dare she! She is an irresponsible woman! She’s sending the wrong message!” (Man, I’ll know I’ve made it when I get a review like that.)

And it’s not like I’m trying to push the envelope. I just write about real things, and I say it in a real way. So it’s probably going to make you shift around in your seat until you find a comfortable position. Or maybe you’ll never find a comfortable position, and then you can write a review like the one mentioned above. I won’t be offended. I swear.

I’m not going to lie and say it’s not frustrating being a genre-confused writer. I feel lost. I’m that sad kid on the playground wandering around by myself with my face turned up to the sky. “Where are my friends? My genres? Who am I?” It’s all very existential crisis when I haven’t the time for it. I need to be writing. And once I’m finished writing, I need to have a genre to put it in.

So right now you’ll see “New Adult.” When enough people yell at me and say my content is too mature for “New Adult,” then I guess you’ll see “Adult.” Or maybe I’ll stick with New Adult just to be spiteful. Or maybe I’ll create a new genre. 

How about the “You Know . . .Whatever” genre?