segunda-feira, 1 de dezembro de 2014

French Kissed de Chanel Cleeton - OUT TODAY!

Olá maltinha! Como está a começar essa semana?? Espero que bem =)

Hoje temos uma pequena mudança na programação do blog. Em vez de um video (ele foi publicado no Youtube, se não quiserem esperar), hoje trago-vos algo muito mais especial, e inédito aqui no blog.

Eu tenho o maior orgulho em marcar aqui no blog o lançamento de um  dos meus livros preferidos, French Kissed de Chanel Cleeton, aguçando o vosso apetite com uma sneak peek e excertos.

Antes de avançarmos, no entanto, podem desde já ver do que estou a falar através da minha review,  AQUI.

Já foram ver? Interessadas, então bora lá às sneakys xD

Confesso que esta não é a minha sneaky favorita... mas é a que mais gosto das que me foram providenciadas, e a foto é excelente. Já os excertos...

“I’ve come to make peace.”I blinked as the sentence rolled off her tongue and into the air surrounding us, her eyes dancing with amusement. Maybe it was the accent. It was hard to resist an accent, especially one that called to mind silk, lacy lingerie, and heat. “Peace?” It seemed like a foreign concept around Fleur.She nodded, taking a bite out of the apple, her full, pink lips sliding across the cherry red. I stared at her mouth, mesmerized. It should be a sin to eat fruit like that.She continued, wholly oblivious to my reaction. “Look, I need to pass this class. You need to pass this class. And we could do the whole, ‘I hate you, you hate me,’ thing for the rest of the year, but really, what’s the point?” Her lips curved. “I think we should hate other people.”I was silent for a beat. “Are you hate breaking up with me?”Her mouth spread into the kind of wide smile I’d seen her give her friends, but had never been lucky enough to have flashed my way. “I think I am. Look, it’s not you; it’s me. Hating you is nice and all, but it’s just not fulfilling me the way I need it to. I need more than you’re able to give me.” She flashed me a playful, pitying smile, leaning closer, too close, her tone dropping as if she were sharing a secret meant only for me.“Don’t take it personally. You did your best. It’s not easy to keep up with me. Many men have tried.”“Maybe if we shook things up a bit?” I teased, struggling to keep a straight face. I’d never seen this side of Fleur before. Playful suited her even as it surprised me. It had always felt like she was laughing at me, never with me. Now I was on the other side of the velvet rope, and I liked it more than I should have. “Maybe if we kept the mystery alive. Things have been a little flat lately. We haven’t even explored the possibilities of pranking each other. I could pour Jell-O in your shoes—”“And I could kill you.”I laughed, unable to resist pushing her further. “But we haven’t even had hate-sex yet.”God, she sparkled back at me. Her eyes lit up with a sort of wicked pleasure that told me she enjoyed screwing with me as much as I liked returning the favor.“Do you want to have hate-sex with me?” she teased, her voice coming out with a purr that bathed me in heat. Her voice lowered in a tone that was distinctively her bedroom voice, something my body had never heard from her lips, yet recognized instantly. “Have you been dreaming about it, fantasizing about it? Do you wake up in the middle of the night wanting it?”Desire slammed into me like a fucking Mack truck. Her words lingered between us, filling the air like the perfume that teased my nostrils, beckoning me closer, like the accent that wound its way through my body with promise. At some point in our exchange, we’d both started moving toward each other, until now we leaned over the table, less than a foot between us, her lips taunting me, tempting me, seducing me.

Este primeiro é logo do início, e ilustra bem o que eu dizia sobre pessoas que discutem tanto que só podiam acabar juntas. Basicamente é totalmente o meu estilo xD

Fuck me.
She was going to kill me, no question about it. I was going to die in the library of a heart attack at the ripe old age of twenty-two. If the sight of her yesterday had been mind-blowing, this was something else entirely.
I’d seen her dressed to kill before—on the rare occasions George had dragged me out to a club or party, on the nights I’d had to watch them go out on dates. Those had been the nights I’d dreamed of her, of her body moving against mine, of my mouth on hers, my hands exploring all the places I’d imagined. Those had been the nights when I’d gone to bed hard and wanting, and woken up filled with ache and need, my body covered in sweat.
I’d dream of her tonight.
She wore a dress. Well, sort of. There wasn’t much to it, and while I knew nothing about fashion, I thanked whatever fashion gods had created it with everything I had. It was black and clung to every curve of her shape like a second skin. The fabric had a bit of sheen to it, beginning just over the curve of her breasts and ending just below her ass. She wore spike heels that flaunted her long legs, and called to mind fantasies of me between her thighs, her heels digging into my back, adding pain to pleasure.
But wasn’t that the thing about her . . . everything about her was so much it hurt.
Her hair hung down her shoulders, perfectly straight, her lips full and lush and bathed in some pinky color. Her eyes held a kind of trouble that I wanted more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
Her voice was smoky, low, and it was impossible to feel like this wasn’t some secret meeting. I’d seen her dressed like this before, and yet everything about this time felt different. This was the library, not a nightclub, and girls didn’t wear fuck-me heels and dresses like that in the library. It made the whole thing sexier, took the forbidden element up a notch, and I wanted her here, now, against the stacks, my hand under her dress, my mouth covering her moans.
It was different this time because now I knew that she’d dressed for me when we’d studied, and I couldn’t help but wonder why she was here. She wasn’t even holding a book, and the optimistic part of me, the hopeful, longing part of me, wondered if it were possible . . .
Was she here for me? 

E este é o início  de uma das minhas cenas preferidas do livro, uma que se torna bem caliente, bem depressa. xD

Ficaram curiosas? Para saberem mais sobre o livro e os outros trabalhos de Chanel Cleeton podem passar na página do Goodreads, e podem também comprar o livro no Amazon.

Boa semana!


6 comentários:

  1. Confesso que desconhecia totalmente...mas fiquei bem curiosa! :)

    xoxo, Sofia Pinto

    Morning Dreams |Participa no Christmas GIVEAWAY

  2. Desconhecia :o


  3. não conhecia mas agora quero mesmo conhecer!!

  4. Não conheço o livro :)

  5. Não conhecia mas fiquei com a pulga atrás da orelha!