Here are my favorites from the past month.
Favorite Reads from October
Images link to Goodreads
I’m not a good man, and I’ve never pretended to be. I don’t believe in goodness or God or any happy ending that isn’t paid for in advance.
What do I believe in? Money. Sex. Macallan 18.
They have words for men like me—playboy. Womanizer. Skirt chaser.
My brother used to be a priest, and he only has one word for me.
You guys… this book was everything I hoped it would be after reading Priest. Sierra Simone has done it again.
After getting canned from her dream job this morning and played in spectacular fashion by her boyfriend this afternoon, Savannah “Savvy” Valentine is having a truly awful day. Which is why she’s currently drowning her sorrows in whiskey and self-pity in a shabby bar along the route to Las Vegas.
In light of today’s double whammy, Savvy isn’t sure why she’s still heading in the direction of her five-year high school reunion. The only reason she’d wanted to attend the reunion in Vegas in the first place was to show the captain of the football team, the guy who took her virginity and then promptly rejected her, that the captain of the math team grew up to have all enviable hot things: hot body, hot boyfriend, and hot career. Now, the only “hot” thing about Savvy Valentine is her mess.
But when a gorgeous stranger with sandy hair, a leather jacket, and motorcycle helmet walks into the bar, Savvy’s awful day suddenly looks a whole lot brighter. The man is perfection. Sexy and mysterious. And he’s heading to Las Vegas, too.
Can one wild night with a sexy stranger in the middle of nowhere lead a girl to fall desperately and deeply in love in Las Vegas? Savvy Valentine is about to find out.
Lauren Rowe has delivered again with a Misadventures book! This one comes out 11/20.
It’s crazy how fast the buzz comes back after you’ve been sober for so long.
Whiskey stood there, on my doorstep, just like he had one year before. Except this time, there was no rain, no anger, no wedding invitation — it was just us.
It was just him — the old friend, the easy smile, the twisted solace wrapped in a glittering bottle.
It was just me — the alcoholic, pretending like I didn’t want to taste him, realizing too quickly that months of being clean didn’t make me crave him any less.
But we can’t start here.
No, to tell this story right, we need to go back.
Back to the beginning.
Back to the very first drop.
This is my love letter to Whiskey. I only hope he reads it. (
This book hit me so hard, I had to text Ginny in a frenzy because I just needed to vent. This is why everyone should have a book-friend on standby for texting. Thanks for being that person for me, Ginny! I love you!