Welcome to the Official Blog Tour for Whiskey Kisses, the fourth book in the 3:AM Kisses series, by Addison Moore!
Genre:
New Adult Contemporary Romance
Series:
3:AM Kisses Series
Publish Date:
May 16, 2014
Note:
This book can be read as a standalone
Synopsis:
Izzy Sawyer has always been the it girl. She believes she's the last person on earth who deserves a happily ever after. Holt Edwards has always been the player that women voluntarily fall to their knees for. When it comes to love, Holt doesn't believe in fairytale endings.
When Izzy dives back into the dating pool, Holt is right there, ready and willing, to offer tips and tricks to get her through an entire army of blind dates--starting with a bone melting demonstration on how to deliver mouthwatering kisses.
One thing leads to whiskey and Izzy is starting to think happily ever after doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Holt is starting to rethink his stance on fairytale endings.
But Izzy has a secret that has turned her world upside down. Holt has a secret of his own that cost him far more than he ever bargained for.
Sometimes life doesn't give you the happily ever after. Sometimes it's best to leave fairytale endings on the bookshelf where they belong.
Izzy can't stop thinking about Holt.
Holt can't seem to quit his favorite new addiction--Izzy.
The mercury is rising--secrets are percolating--and their lust for one another is just about to detonate.
Izzy needs just one more hit of Holt and his late night Whiskey kisses, but deep down she knows that will ever be enough. She wants all of him--every bone melting kiss he ever has to offer.
Izzy wants Holt.
Holt worships Izzy.
Summer in Hollow Brook just heated up.
Sparks are flying.
Together Izzy and Holt are unstoppably electric.
~~~~~
*Excerpt*
(Holt’s POV, Izzy and Holt at the bar)
“Yes, Holt, I still live with my mother.” Izzy’s lips curl with a sour smile, and even then she looks cute as hell.
“Nothing wrong with that.” I make my way over and feel the air stifling. I’ve always felt as if a damn inferno was about to break out between us, and I can’t for the life of me understand how this could be one-sided. Then again, I’m probably not in her league, so the entire inferno scenario is solely in my pants. Izzy is one of those untouchable girls reserved for the cream of the crop of which I’m the bottom of the barrel. “You might live with your mother, but I work at a bar. The end.”
“What’s this?” Her eyes brighten the exact shade of a sunny afternoon, and my cock is back to begging to be let out to play. Sorry, boy, this is one girl who will most likely never roll out the red carpet for you. “Are you trying to crash my pity party?”
“Consider it busted.” I grab a glass and fill it with ice. “Any drink. It’s on me.”
“In that case, water.”
“How about wine?” I’d uncork a bottle of the best vintage I have in stock for Izzy.
“No thanks, I don’t really drink all that much. Sorry about the whiskey.” She bites down on her cotton candy pink lip, and my gut starts to liquefy. Holy shit. Now I see why the universe never has us together more than once a year. I’d be a dead man if given a few more run-ins.
“No drinking, huh? I have the power to change that if you like.” I’d rearrange the solar system for Izzy if she wanted.
“I’m good.” She gives a sideways smile, and my head tilts in line with it. Damn. I’ve always wondered why my brother acted like a complete idiot around his girlfriend, Baya, and now I know—it can’t be helped. When you find the one it’s simply a knee-jerk reaction. Only I’m not Izzy’s one, and that explains why she’s looking at me like I’m some sort of bartending psychopath. “Anyway, I usually never touch the stuff, unless, of course, it’s a special occasion, and, even then, I’m stuck on whiskey.” She nods back to the table that holds her abandoned drink.
“Whiskey can be a tough place to start.” It takes everything in me not to dive across the counter and shove my face in her neck just to see if she smells as good as I remember—sugar and spice and everything very fucking nice.
“Yeah, my dad—it was his signature drink. Most men prefer beer but not my father.” She glances down at the counter and traces out a figure eight. “So what’s new with you? Heard you just graduated. Your brother is getting hitched soon. Where’s your significant other? She around?” Izzy pans the facility with those glowing eyes, and it makes my balls ache. All right, so my balls ache for her regardless, and it forces me to defer to my favorite lifelong mantra when I’m around her—just breathe—because, holy hell, Izzy Sawyer is beautiful. That’s exactly what I used to remind myself each time I dropped Annie off and picked her up—breathe. If there’s one woman who can take my breath away each and every time, it’s Izzy. Always has been, always will.
Bryson nods to me from the far end of the bar as he picks up my slack.
“No significant other here.” I try not to infer some underlying motive. The last thing I want to do is hit on Izzy as if she were just another barfly. “So I heard Laney.” I try not to come across as an ass for listening in. “Sounds like you’re about to hit the ground running.”
“Ha!” She belts out a short-lived laugh. “As in running in the other direction. I doubt my Mr. Right is lurking in the mess she’s about to sling my way.”
I slide a glass of water to her, and she’s quick to play with the straw. Her long, perfect fingers coil over the tip, each nail painted a bright cherry red. For a second I imagine plunging each one into my mouth, sucking her down before biting the tips ever so gently.
“Holt?” She catches my gaze.
“Yeah.” Shit. Way to let her know you care.
“See? I can’t even hold your attention. I’m about as exciting as watching paint dry. Anyway”—she hops down, and my heart breaks as she steps away from the bar—“I’m out of practice. I wouldn’t even know what to say to someone.”
“I can help with that.” My heart rattles around in my chest unsure of what the hell I’m about to say next. “And, I promise, you’re anything but boring. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” Especially this one.
She shakes her head without thinking twice. “Trust me, I’m a charity case you want nothing to do with.”
“Come by tomorrow night at seven, and I’ll walk you through the basics. You’ll be a pro by the time Laney sends you out into the cold, cruel world of dating. By the time I’m done, you’ll have to fight them off with all four limbs. I’ll teach you everything and anything you’ve ever wanted to learn.” I steady my gaze over hers, and my heart aches because a part of me wishes she could see right through the charade I’m putting on. “You in?”
Her eyes widen, and she goes away for a moment.
“All right. I’m in.” She sighs as she takes a step away. “I’ll swing by at seven. Bring your pillow. You’ll need it once I put you to sleep.” She gives a little wink and heads off toward her sister. I watch as she sways those perfect hips, back and forth, back and forth.
A hand glides in front of my face, and I find Bryson standing there with a shit-eating grin.
“Sawyer still has you pussy whipped?”
“That about says it.” I fling the dishtowel over my shoulder and watch as she embraces Laney before taking off. “Scored a date, too.”
“More like a training session.” That goofy grin slides off his face. “Heard the whole thing.”
“Yeah, so what. I’d stand on my head and eat a bag of dog food if she wanted me to just as long as I could spend a few extra minutes with her.”
“All hail Queen Izzy” He leans over the bar and looks from the empty doorway to me for a second. “Dude, are you going for the gold?” His demeanor shifts from playful to downright worried. “She’s into thirty-year-olds and shit. You’re a glorified teenager in her eyes.”
“Doesn’t bother me. So she’s a few years older—five to be exact. And who the hell cares? Isn’t Dad’s newest squeezebox fifteen years his junior?” Or so he claims, we’ve yet to meet her. It makes me sick to think about it. Not the age difference—I’m still stuck on the fact he left my mother five years ago. I try to brush the memory from my mind. It was me who played a major role in their breakup, and I’ve hated myself for it ever since.
“I don’t know.” Bryson’s gaze is still fixed at the far end of the bar. “I’d layoff if I were you.”
“Would you have listened if I told you to layoff Baya? Hell, if I remember right, her brother told you just that, and it was the last thing you did.”
“So you think she’s your Baya, huh?” He huffs a quiet laugh. “I bet you a thousand bucks she’s not your Baya. I seriously doubt she’s going to give you the time of day let alone stick around long enough to stroke your ego or anything else, big bro.” He swallows hard as if he’s trying to let me down easy. I know for a fact he threw in that big bro comment to soften the blow. Every now and again he likes to flaunt the fact I’ve got fifteen minutes on him. “Look, I don’t want to see you voluntarily putting your heart in a blender. I care about you. Let me set you up with someone. It’ll be easy. They’re already lining up around the block for you.” He motions at the crowd of girls amassing at the far end of the bar. “Pick one. They’re all dying to fall at your feet.”
“I’ll pass. And I’ll pass on the bet. Don’t you worry your pretty little head over where I put my heart.” I’d let Izzy rip it out of my body and stomp on it with her pink ballet heel if she wanted. Hell, I’d encourage her to do it—hold it down for her.
I’d give Izzy anything—any part of me she wanted. Both Bryson and I know that.
My heart in a blender is just the first thing I’d offer.
And, if she’ll let me, I’ll throw in a whole lot more.
~~~~~
Enter the Goodreads Giveaway for a chance to win an advanced copy of Whiskey Kisses!
(Giveaway ends 5/20)
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**About the Author**
Addison Moore is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journel bestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal romance. Previously she worked as a therapist on a locked psychiatric unit for nearly a decade. She resides on the West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children, and two dogs where she eats too much chocolate and stays up way too late. When she's not writing, she's reading.
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***The Giveaway***
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