To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here:
Spice up Your Shelves: Her Perfect Lips by Lisa Fox
As part of the Bippity Boppity Book Spice Up Your Shelves tour – today we feature Lisa Fox and her Midnight Kiss Series, One Kiss and Her Perfect Lips. There are excerpts, review, extra info about Lisa AND a giveaway where One lucky winner will get a Tiara and eBook Copies of each authors first book in their series. AND TWO second prize winners will get eBook copies the first book in each author’s series.
A bit of a slow grower, Ten is wonderful in this story as he works to overcome Stacy’s rather rigid view of the world. Stacy is a workaholic, rigid in her ‘self-scheduling’ she doesn’t allow herself the option to relax or let down, and forget a man. Although she is in New Orleans where there are opportunities to at least sightsee and enjoy herself.
Strangely enough, she runs into Tennyson, a friend of long standing that, if she is desperately honest, she’s always had a bit of a torch for. But his artsy persona and approach to life just serve to highlight the distances between them for her.
There is a bit of jumping around and time skips that take some acclimation, but the solidity of the characters and their connection is clear and present by the end of this story. While I liked One Kiss marginally better, Lisa Fox brings lighthearted fun with characters that feel honest, and have palpable connections. A great choice for a pick-me-up read when the hustle and bustle of the holidays leaves you with the need for escape.
Determined, capable, and primed to rock her first big marketing conference, Stacy Saunders is not about let to anything get in the way of her ambition. It's been a long time since she's been in New Orleans, but she has no use for beads or Bourbon Street. She built a strict itinerary for this trip – one that certainly didn't include running into the gorgeous Tennyson Landry again.
A chance reunion between the former lovers brings old feelings to the surface and the possibility of rekindling old flames. Their second time around could be the best time of all – if they can bridge the gap even wider than the thousand miles between them…
A copy of this title was provided via Author for purpose of honest review. I was not compensated for this review: all conclusions are my own responsibility.
“Tennyson,” Melanie said, favoring him with her beautiful blue-eyed gaze. “What an interesting name. Is it a stage name of some sort?” He leaned back and extended his arm across the back of Stacy’s chair. She was hyperconscious of his arm draped behind her, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up at electric attention. “Oh, no,” he said, flashing Melanie that charming smile of his. “My mother’s a poet. She teaches at Bennington. I’m just thankful every day that she didn’t name me Cummings or Yeats.” Stacy smiled to herself, recalling the night she’d asked him a very similar question. They’d decided to conquer the ‘Drink Around the World’ challenge at The Alibi to celebrate the completion of her training at the Cabin and they’d just begun a beer from Honduras when the alcohol really started to settle in. He’d told her about his mother and how much she loved the British poet laureate. He claimed to dislike the poet’s work himself, yet that didn’t stop him from reciting one of his namesake’s more famous works, The Lady of Shallot, right there among the servers, strippers, and Quarter rats congregating in the bar. He did it with so much gusto, he even earned himself a resounding round of applause. Melanie nodded like Ten had just told her something profound, and Peter touched her shoulder, trying to regain her attention. Melanie turned back to Peter and Ten caught Stacy’s eye, gave her a little wink. She wondered if he remembered that night too, if it left the same kind of impression. They used to have a lot of fun together. No one in her life was quite like him and she missed that. She missed him. New Orleans was an adventure, a fairy tale, and though she loved New York, it was all work and ambition. Ten picked up his drink and reached over the table to tap his glass against hers. “Welcome back, Prom Dress.” She snorted a laugh and picked up her glass to drink with him. Of all the things for him to remember, it would be that ridiculous nickname. “Prom Dress?” Melanie asked, fluttering her long lashes at Ten. “Did I hear that right?” Everything about Melanie rankled. Stacy had no desire to share anything with her. “It’s not a very interesting story.” Ten shrugged. “It’s probably one of those ‘you had to be there’ things.” “Oh, come on,” Peter said, trying to be a part of the conversation. “Tell it.” Ten looked to her, and after only a second’s hesitation, he waved for him to tell it if he wanted to. It was a good memory, embarrassing, but wonderful too. She wanted to share it with him again. He nodded once, then turned to the group. “Well,” he began, “once upon a time, Stacy and I worked at the Creole Cabin Bar and Restaurant on Bourbon Street. This was long before she left for New York City and fame and fortune. Back then, she was humble waitress, a poor college grad just trying to get ahead.” She rolled her eyes, but smiled. Ten loved to tell a good story. He’d often kept the staff entertained even on the slowest shifts. “She was always running off for interviews, meetings, networking events,” he went on. “That day, I think it was an interview with a Google recruiter.” He turned to her. “Wasn’t it?” She blinked, shocked that he remembered such an insignificant detail. Shocked and more than a little touched. “Yes, it was.” “Anyway, the Cabin is an extremely loud place. It’s right on Bourbon, and all the doors are always open, and they’ve got this zydeco band playing, people are talking…” He took a moment to meet all of their gazes. “You get the picture.” He took a sip of his drink, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It was a hot summer afternoon, the restaurant was dead, the a/c was blasting, but we were all sweating, standing around in the side station talking about nothing ‘cause we were so damn bored. Stacy’s gathering her things, she was the first one cut, and the other servers and I were a little jealous, so we were kinda ignoring her.” She was there with him again, reliving that day in full color. She could feel the sweat on the back of her neck, the smell of deep-fried shrimp on her skin. She was desperate to get home and take a shower before she went to that interview. That had to happen, but it was going to be close. She needed to leave immediately. “We were used to talking loudly, always screaming at each other to be heard.” He met her eyes, sharing the memory with her. “When it was time for her to go, it only made sense that she would scream good-bye.” He started to laugh, but quickly suppressed it. She wanted to hit him now just as much as she had wanted to back then. It wasn’t that funny. “So, she hollers, ‘Well, I’m off like a prom dress! ’ But at that exact moment, the band decided to take a break.” The laugher bubbled out of him, and Stacy winced, just as she had done in that instant, endless moment of silence. “It was just one of those gaps in noise that happens sometimes and everything was quiet at that precise moment. The whole restaurant heard her, the band, the customers, even the guys the kitchen. We all froze, too dumbfounded to move.” He winked at her, but she just shook her head. She had been mortified, every eye in the place on her, her booming announcement seeming to echo in the sudden stillness. “But Stacy,” he said, putting his hand on her knee, “she never blinked. She held her head high and marched right out that restaurant, like it was all perfectly natural. But, boy she did move fast.” He met her gaze and lowered his voice an octave. “It must have been quite a prom night.” He looked back to the others and grinned. “The name just stuck. It was perfect.” She had to laugh. That restaurant could be such a miserable place sometimes, filled with drunks and non-tipping tourists, but when Ten worked alongside her, she always had a good shift.
World-renowned neurosurgeon, jet fighter pilot, secret member of American royalty, seducer of legions of beautiful, outrageously sexy angels and demons and vampires and werewolves and the occasional pirate, Lisa Fox has done it all…in her own mind. In reality, she can generally be found at her desk with a cup of coffee close at hand. Or maybe a martini. It really depends on the day.
Feedback, comments, opinions, words of wisdom, chocolate cake and the addresses of super hot men are always appreciated and encouraged. Please feel free to contact me any time.