Drop Dead Gorgeous by Juliet Lyons – Review, Spotlight Tour & Giveaway

Drop Dead Gorgeous by Juliet Lyons – Review, Spotlight Tour & Giveaway

 

Swipe Right for Mr. Bite. Don’t miss Juliet Lyons’s snarky and sexy new release, Drop Dead Gorgeous!

Drop Dead Gorgeous spotlight graphic

 

Drop Dead GorgeousAmazon / B&N / Kobo / BAM / Book Depository

Description:
SWIPE RIGHT FOR MR. BITE

Mila Hart’s first experience with the hot new vampire dating site is a complete disaster. Turns out, her date is wanted for murder! But things turn around when she’s rescued by dashing vampire cop Vincent Ferrer. Dangerous and drop dead gorgeous, he’s just the vampire hottie Mila was hoping for.

Haunted by his past, Vincent can’t risk falling in love again, even if Mila charms him more than anyone he’s ever met. But when the killer from Mila’s first date seeks her out, Vincent is the only one who can protect her. Protecting his heart is a different story…

 

Review:

Drop Dead Gorgeous by Juliet Lyons is the 2nd book in her Bite Nights series.  This series is a paranormal story line revolving around a dating service for vampires and humans.  I enjoyed the first book in this series, but I thought this one was even better.  Mila Hart is our heroine, and she was a blast from the start.  When she decides to date a vampire from the V-Date internet service, it turns out to be a disaster that almost costs her life.  The handsome vampire is a serial killer, and just when she thinks her life is over, Mila is saved by a vampire cop.

Vincent Ferrer, our hero, is the detective who saves Mila, and from that moment on he is totally mesmerized by her.  Vincent is deep in finding this serial killer, but he also finds himself disturbed by his attraction to Mila, as he has not had these feelings since hundreds of years ago, when his then betrothed was killed.  Mila is also attracted to this hunk that she names “Chris Hemsworth”.  Since Vincent is not only a good detective, but he is a vampire, which enables him to kill another vampire.

What follows is Vincent’s determination to protect Mila, and do all he can to find the killer before he kills again.  Though this is somewhat exciting, the best part of this story is the relationship between Vincent and Mila.  It was not only sizzling hot, very sexy, with a wonderful couple, it was also such a fun humorous story. As I said earlier, Mila was a blast with her humor and use of TV shows that Vincent had no idea of.  I also thought Vincent was a terrific hero, and despite him being a vampire, a perfect gentleman.

I really enjoyed Drop Dead Gorgeous mainly because the main characters were lots of fun, likeable and their chemistry was off the wall.   The storyline with Mila in danger was also exciting and very well done.  Most of all Lyons humor throughout made this a fun and sexy story. If you enjoy a sweet, fun, sexy romance with an element of danger and humor, I suggest you read this series. 

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

excerpt

 

Inside the flat, I kick off my heels and turn the cold tap on full blast, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. “Do you have any aspirin?” I ask, breaking the silence.
Vincent shakes his head, face glum. “I’m sorry I listened to your conversation,” he says, picking at the edge of the kitchen island with a finger.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say quietly. “Thanks for sorting out O’Geary for me.”
He nods, frowning. “Mila—”
“Look,” I say, interrupting him. “I know what you must think of me.”
His frown deepens, eyes dark. “What do I think of you?”
“That I’m totally flaky and pathetic. What with dead rats in my bed and going on dates with serial killers and getting felt up my first week at work. If you think I don’t know how ridiculous my life is, Vincent, you’re wrong, because I do, and the truth is, I don’t know why I told my work friend you like to be tied up with silky scarves. Maybe I’ve watched too many dodgy French movies. But my point is, I know I’m not like you, with the fancy view and the starch spray in the cupboard and all this.” I circle a finger wildly in the air. “So I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me, and I’m sorry you had to show your fangs and lose your chance at a hookup with Leggy Layla from Marketing. I am sorry.”
I suck in a deep breath and take a gulp of my water. I must be drunker than I thought.
When I finally summon the courage to meet his eye, I jolt in surprise. His eyes are dark, tortured. He leans against the counter, hands gripping the edges so tightly his knuckles are whiter than bone.
“That’s the second time you mentioned those girls.” His voice is husky, throaty, as if the words are coming from some dark, forbidden place deep inside him.
“Yeah, well. They irritate me. Add that to my list of faults. I’m jealous of a group of women who wear double the recommended amount of mascara.”
“Jealous,” he repeats.
Jesus. What is up with him? He looks like a four-year-old trying to figure out an algebraic equation. “Yes. Jealous. Not usually. Just tonight. Because you were speaking to them.”
Inside, I’m well aware I’ve more or less just announced I have an enormous crush on him. But on the outside, the half-drunk, cocky Mila is still running the show.
He continues to stand, frozen. I snatch up my glass of water and slip past him into the lounge.
“Mila,” he says loudly.
I turn around at the same time he does.
“I don’t enjoy Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No. I don’t.” He runs a nervous hand through his dirty-blond hair. “It’s the only show where I can sit and not have to pay attention to the plotline to know what’s happening.”
I sigh. “Fine. I give up. We’ll hire a harpist for our evening entertainment.” I continue stomping toward the bedrooms—as much as it’s possible to stomp in bare feet.
A gust of air lifts the hair from the nape of my neck and, in an instant, Vincent is filling the doorway with his luscious frame. “I can’t pay attention to the plot,” he says, “because I’m too distracted.”
“Why? Because I’m here messing up your apartment and getting in the way? It won’t be forever, and I’ll tidy up before I go—”
Before I can finish the sentence, he cuts the short distance between us in a single bound, placing hands on my hips. The heat from his fingers burns through the material like red-hot flames. My heart thuds beneath my ribs. Without my heels, my head is level with his chest—his perfectly sculpted, chiseled-from-rock chest—rising and falling as if something is fighting to get out. I lift my gaze, and as our eyes lock, he bunches my dress in his fists. The relaxed look he wore when he lied to the marketing girls and threatened Leery is gone, naked anxiety assuming its place.
“Ask me to stop,” he says, his voice breaking.
I gulp. The only sound is my heart pounding against my ribcage. Is this really happening?
“I can’t,” I say at last. “Because I don’t want you to.”
He releases my dress, looping strong arms around my waist, and lifts me onto my tiptoes until our bodies press together, torso to torso. I drop the glass of water onto the rug at our feet, hearing the loud slosh of liquid as it soaks into the carpet. The water is swiftly forgotten as he leans closer, brushing warm lips over my jawline. He tightens his grip, anchoring me to him as a tremor of pleasure rips through my body.
When his mouth finally fastens onto mine, I mold myself into him like clay, my breasts pushed up against the steely ridges of his chest, my hands twisting into his hair like vines around the branches of a tree. I part his lips, and he responds intensely. He tastes like champagne—warm and fruity—and I devour him like a woman who’s been living carb free would a loaf of bread. My tongue slides over his, a low animal groan erupting from my throat.
He cups my face in his warm hands as he begins feverishly whispering my name between kisses. “Mila, oh God, Mila.”
He wants me, I realize in surprise, knowing from the way my name sounds in his mouth—hard and spiky as barbwire—that this is no whim, no spur-of-the-moment fancy. All the times he’s blushed suddenly make sense, those intense stares I mistook as him thinking I’m an idiot.
I stop kissing him, leaning back to gaze into his drowsy, silver-dappled eyes. His face is slack, his mouth half-open, lips moist.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” I murmur, dragging hands down his muscled back. “You haven’t really been enjoying Dr. Quinn at all.”


 

About The Author

Juliet LyonsJULIET LYONS is a paranormal romance author from the UK. She holds a degree in Spanish and Latin American studies and works part-time in a local primary school where she spends far too much time discussing Harry Potter. Since joining global storytelling site Wattpad in 2014, her work has received millions of hits online and gained a legion of fans from all over the world. When she is not writing, Juliet enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

 Find Juliet Online:

Website: https://www.julietlyons.co.uk/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WriterJLyons/
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/julietlyons
Twitter: @WriterJLyons
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15118466.Juliet_Lyons

 

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Dating the Undead by Juliet Lyons – Review, Spotlight, Guest Post & Giveaway

Dating the Undead by Juliet Lyons – Review, Spotlight, & Giveaway

 

Dating the Undead
Undead Dating Service series – Book #1
by Juliet Lyons
Release Date: May 2, 2017

Dating the UndeadAmazon / B&N / Kobo  / BAM / Book Depository

Dating the Undead Promo

Description:
It’s Bridget Jones with vampires in this fresh and funny paranormal romance from debut author Juliet Lyons

When Silver Harris kisses sexy Irish vampire Logan Byrne on New Year’s Eve, she knows other humans just won’t suffice. Convinced she’ll never see him again, she joins the uber-popular vampire dating site, V-Date.com.

What Silver doesn’t know is that the site is more dangerous than she could ever imagined, and soon she’s in over her head. When Logan returns, sparks fly and attraction sizzles, but they’ll have to escape some very real demons if they have any chance of lasting forever.

 

Review:

Dating the Undead by Juliet Lyons is the 1st book in her Undead Dating Service series.  This was a different type of paranormal story line revolving around vampires and humans.   Silver Harris, our heroine, is a beautiful feisty sexy young girl, who secretly is trying to find the person responsible for killing her mother.  Silver starts dating vampires, which in this book, seems the norm for human girls who find them sexy and attractive.  Silver has agreed to go undercover using the V-Date.com site to help the police learn more information about how vampires live and how to stop them. 

Logan Byrne is close to 200 years old, and is a gorgeous vampire with sexy green eyes.  He saves Silver from a bad vampire, and in no time their attraction for each other is hotter than hell. Logan works for Ronin, the ancient vampire who he is blood bound to; Little does Logan know that the assignment he is given, will bring him to Silver.   Their relationship was great, as Silver was a piece of work, with her off the cuff sassy comments, and  I loved them together.  They were so much fun, not to mention totally steamy. 

Logan realizes he is falling in love with Silver, having feelings he has not had for so long. Because he knows his boss will not approve, and his fear of his old dangerous sire coming back to haunt him, Logan will decide to break up with Silver to keep her safe.   Once he finds out that Silver is working for the police, Logan knows he has to protect her, and also knows he can’t live without her.  At this point, all hell is about to break loose, with Logan’s sire returning putting both of their lives together.   During this time, Silver will also find out who was responsible for her mother’s murder.

I enjoyed Dating the Undead, mainly because the main characters were lots of fun, likeable and their chemistry was off the wall.   After the exciting & surprise climax twist, there was an epilogue that moved forward three years in time, which was a nice touch.  Wonderful start of this new series by Juliet Lyons.  I recommend Dating the Undead to read if you enjoy paranormal romances with vampires.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

Guest post-White and Red

10 ways to tell if your date is actually a vampire by Juliet Lyons

  1. They only want to meet at night, using the excuse that they’re not ‘a morning person’
  1. On a date to the beach, you catch them harassing the lady in the mini mart to check the stock room for Hawaiian Tropics factor 500.
  1. When you get a paper cut, they’re oddly excited.
  1. They’re still not over their ex. Even though the latter has been dead for two hundred years.
  1. Every time you mention a church wedding they recoil in horror*.
  1. They often refer to Eric from True Blood as someone who ‘has their shit together.’
  1. They drink a lot of red wine, but never seem drunk. Wait — is that actually wine?
  1. They have pale, flawless skin despite the fact you’ve never once seen them cleanse and/or moisturize.
  1. When watching any kind of sporting event, they constantly scoff and sneer at the athletes.‘Please! Is that the best they can do?’
  1. They are particularly keen to remind you that the neck is a top five erogenous zone…

*Does not necessarily mean they are a vampire. Mortals — particularly males—are also prone to behaving in this way.

Clichéd lines from dating profile

Want to grab a bite?

I’d love to take you to dinner…If you’re okay with being the main course…
Male Vampire seeking a special someone to share his life—or death depending on how you look at it.
I can’t offer you sunshine, but I can offer you eternity.



excerpt

I freeze in terror. What a waste of Dad’s money those self-defense classes turned out to be.
“Silver, it’s just me,” a lilting Irish voice says at my ear, the hand dropping from my shoulder.
I turn around to find myself nose to nose with my vampire from New Year’s Eve, his bright green eyes piercing mine.
I’m struck by several conflicting emotions all at once—anger, relief, and in a tiny measure—happiness. Anger wins out. On impulse, I slap him hard across the face, pointing with a white, clenched hand to the garden I’ve just sprinted across.
“I thought I was about to be murdered, asshole,” I hiss through my teeth. “I ripped my coat. My heels are ruined. All because you thought it might be fun to follow me home.”
He smirks, nonplussed, sliding his hands into the deep pockets of his navy pea coat. “I wasn’t following you,” he says, eyes twinkling.
“Oh, that’s right,” I say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were just walking me home again. Except this time from fifty yards behind and without me knowing.”
Before he has a chance to reply, the front door flies open and my landlady Vera emerges in a long, silky, oriental dressing gown. She is wigless for once, a Pucci scarf twisted into a makeshift turban covering her head. In her right hand, she holds a meat cleaver.
“Step away, you rapist bastard!” she yells, holding the large knife shakily aloft.
I glare at the vampire, expecting him to either throw his hands in the air or take a step backwards. Instead his brows knit together and his mouth drops open. “Etta Marlow?” he asks, staring at her as if she just walked on water.
The meat cleaver lowers a fraction. “What’s it to you?” Vera demands, her voice losing some of its previous menace.
I roll my eyes. Of course he remembers her. He’s probably seen all her films.
“It is you!” he erupts, wagging a finger in her direction. “You’re Etta Marlow! You played Susie De Sousa in Girl Uptown with Gregor Lane. I love that movie.”
The meat cleaver drops, forgotten, to her side as she pats her turban, eyelashes fluttering. “Fancy you recognizing me,” she mutters happily.
“Excuse me, Vera,” I interject, “but there’s still a potential rapist on your doorstep here.”
Vera looks back to the vampire, who shakes his head, smiling. “A misunderstanding, Etta. I was making sure Silver here made it home safely. She got the wrong end of the stick.”
Vera, or Etta as she was once known, glances over at me. “Do you know this charming fellow, dear?”
I scowl at them both. “Well, yes, but— “
“Well then, you must come in, dear boy. I could show you my Oscar, if you like?”
The Vampire looks as if he’s about to pee himself with excitement. “You mean the one you got for Days Like These with Vic Stevens?”
She holds out a thin hand towards him, gold bangles jangling on her wrist. “The very one, dear. Come, come in.”
I watch, stunned, as he takes her hand, green eyes lit up in excitement.
Before stepping through the door, he hangs back. “Ms. Marlow, I’m afraid it’s only courteous to let you know before I enter that I’m not human. I’m a vampire.”
Vera’s tinkly laugh echoes around the street like a bicycle bell. “Oh, you’re so sweet. Didn’t you know I’ve met dozens of vampires? They’re two a penny in Hollywood, darling.”
Following her across the threshold, he flashes the cockiest of grins. “Coming, Silver?”
My jaw drops in disgust. I’m tempted to sulk off to my basement flat, but instead, I trail after them and slam the door.
We follow Vera along an elegant gold and cream hallway into her immaculate, monochrome front room. Even though I’ve been here on numerous occasions, I’m always mesmerized by the sheer extravagance of the place—buttery white leather sofas, cream fur rugs, one wall is painted black and white to resemble piano keys. It should look tacky, but somehow, it works.
“You two make yourselves at home whilst I go and make myself presentable.” Vera says. “Then I’ll dig out that old Oscar of mine.”
I know, of course, the Oscar will not have to be ‘dug’ out of anywhere. It’s always on display in the den, alongside her film stills and other memorabilia.
“I didn’t catch your name,” she croons to the vampire before she leaves.
He puts a hand on his chest. “Forgive me, I should have introduced myself. Between the meat cleaver threat and getting slapped by Silver here, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I’m Logan. Logan Byrne.”
For strange and unfathomable reasons, my stomach flips. Logan. It suits him.
“Charming,” Vera says. “Don’t you go anywhere, Mr. Byrne.”
As soon as Vera disappears from the room, Logan collapses into one of the white leather arm chairs and puts his crossed feet onto the cut glass coffee table.
I’m still standing, one brow arched, arms folded across my chest. “So, Logan,” I hiss. “What the hell is this?”
He grins, dimples putting in their first appearance of the night as he gazes up at me. “Did anyone ever tell you, you’re particularly beautiful when you’re angry?”
“Oh, cut the crap,” I say, ignoring the hot flush climbing my neck. “Why did you follow me?”
“Like I told Etta, I wanted to make sure you got home safely, that’s all. Though I’m a little confused as to why you have three houses.” He holds up fingers to count. “The one I left you at on New Year’s, the one Nathaniel dropped you at, and now this—cohabiting with an aged 1940’s screen siren.”
“It’s none of your business,” I say, chin in the air. “And anyway, how do you know Nathaniel?”
He shrugs. “I know most of the vampires in London.”
I humpth. “I bet you do.”
In the blink of an eye, he is towering over me, face inches from mine. I inhale his clean, masculine scent like a drowning person coming up for air, and as he leans closer, I find myself gravitating towards him—a flower reaching for sunlight.
He pulls the collar of my coat aside and peers into the gap. As his fingers brush my jaw, an uncontrollable shiver zings through me. I disguise it by stepping out of reach and batting his hand away.
“He did a messy job on your neck,” he says, in a low voice.
“What’s it to you?” I snap.
Before I realize what’s happening, he closes the gap between us. One hand cupping my cheek, he bends over, lips brushing the place Nathaniel bit me, tongue gently swiping the puncture holes.
“That should stop the bleeding,” he says, pulling away. “But you’ll still have a bruise in the morning.”
I rub my neck and look at my fingers. No blood. “So, you can heal wounds? Just another of your unique skills along with beating up drunk men and following young women home for kicks?”
He sinks back into the armchair. “You’re a sexy girl, Silver. I’m glad we’ve met again.”
I snort incredulously, trying, without success, to forget the warmth of his hand on my face. “Well, you certainly made sure we did.”
“And of course,” he continues, pretending to examine a photo on the coffee table. “I’m hugely flattered I’ve managed to turn your head towards my kind.”
“You didn’t turn anything,” I say tartly.
He cocks a brow, gaze burning through my clothes like a laser. I feel a sharp twitch between my legs, as though he’s controlling my private areas by some invisible string. “Are you sure about that?”


 

About The Author

Juliet Lyons
JULIET LYONSis a paranormal romance author from the UK. She holds a degree in Spanish and
Latin American studies and works part-time in a local primary school where she spends far too much time
discussing Harry Potter. Since joining global storytelling site Wattpad in 2014, her work has receivedmillions of hits online and gained a legion of fans from all over theworld. When she is not writing, Juliet enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

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NOTE: The Reading Cafe is NOT responsible for the rafflecopter giveaway. If you have any questions, please contact the tour provider.

 

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