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Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Book Blitz: All That Jazz (A Butler Cove Novel) by Natasha Boyd

All that Jazz
Natasha Boyd
(A Butler Cove Novel)
Publication date: March 22nd 2016
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
There’s something totally inconvenient about falling for your best friend’s brother. Especially when he’s turned into a pompous, arrogant, albeit annoyingly sexy a-hole that you’d like to punch or kiss to death at any given moment.

The summer she turned eighteen, Jazz Frazer accidentally lost her heart to Joey Butler, after a favor that blurred the lines from friends to lovers.

For three years they’ve pretended there’s nothing between them anymore. Jazz is finally ready to move on with the rest of her life. She’s looking forward to the end of college and fulfilling her dream of travelling the world. She’s determined that experiences and relationships will be fun, casual and easy. After all, she learned the hard way that men just don’t stick around anyway. But when her best friend gets herself into a relationship with a celebrity, Jazz has to do the one thing she never thought she’d do, call Joey and ask for help.

Repeatedly thrown together, Jazz tries everything she can to protect her heart and not fall back in love with Joey. But when Joey finally admits that Jazz is the one he’s always wanted, all bets are off.

Contemporary, friends to lovers, second chance romance. 17+ for strong language and sexual situations.



The Summer I turned 18

“And you won’t fall in love with any of them and want to get married?”

“Nope.” I shrugged. “That would impede my career plans.”

Joey snorted, then wheezed. “Right.”

I wanted to shove the dishtowel he was holding down his damn throat.

“Right, what?” I snapped.

“Right, I believe you,” he added with barely concealed sarcasm. His eyebrows raised.

“It’s true. I don’t see what the big emotional deal is with sex anyway.”

“Because you’ve had so much of it?”

I glanced away. That was way more information than he needed.

“So the almost eighteen year old virgin is going to try and tell me she understands what sex without emotion is like?”

“Not for much longer,” I said with a haughty tone, irritated he just assumed I was a virgin, and clasped my hands in front of me on the table. “I plan on getting rid of that status as soon as possible.”

Joey yanked his chair back out and sat down opposite me, his glare intense, the blue of his eyes darkened to grey.

I pulled back at his abrupt move and his hand reached out and snared mine, pinning it to the table. “What?” I managed after a few beats of uncomfortable silence where my hand was burned alive.

Conflicting thoughts seemed to flit over his face for what seemed like long minutes instead of the few seconds it probably was. Then he let out a long breath.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, putting so little importance on sex.”

I scowled. “What does that even mean?”

“It means …” He swallowed. “You should respect yourself enough not to give it away to just anybody.”

My face throbbed with heat as my temper rose. “I respect myself just fine. Big brother,” I hissed.

“Good,” he growled. “Because if you don’t, nobody else will.”

I yanked my hand from his. “I don’t understand you. So you’re allowed to have meaningless sex, but I’m not? Again with your double standards, Joseph. It’s unbecoming, you should watch that.”

He shrugged. “You said it. You’re like a little sister to me. I care that you don’t get hurt. And for God’s sake don’t be roping Keri Ann into your stupid quest. I’m just warning you to be careful.”

“Of what exactly?” I said through my clenched teeth. Because seriously, I was completely angry and humiliated by this stupid argument.

“You don’t even know yourself, do you?” He laughed, his strong jaw tilting back to reveal his tanned throat. “You, Jazzy Bear,” he rested his blue eyes back on me, “will fall madly in love with the first boy you sleep with.”

“I will not. And for the love of cheese grits, please don’t call me Jazzy Bear again.”

“You will. It’s written all over you. And,” he sobered as he looked at me unflinchingly, “he will break your heart. I’m sorry. In advance.”

ATJ_Teaser_10 bat shit crazy
Excerpt 2:
Al That Jazz by Natasha Boyd   © 2016 Natasha Boyd

I can see the struggle on his face. He’s made such a big deal about my sunburn, he’d literally be defying his Hippocratic Oath by denying me relief.
I actually find myself taking perverse pleasure from his discomfort. Why not make this fun? “Fine.” Taking a deep breath, I lock eyes with him and slip my dress strap down on one side. His eyes track the movement. Then I reach for the other and I see his jaw harden.
I sigh and wink at him. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Doctor Butler.”
He meets my eyes, one eyebrow arched, his mouth twisting. “You did always make me want to play doctor, Miss Fraser.”
It takes nano seconds for his words to register and scalding shock to flood my system, and then eons for the surprise to ebb and release my tongue. By that time, Joey has cleared his throat and rolled up his sleeves. He squeezes lidocaine into the palm of one of his strong hands, then uses the other to swing a chair out to sit on.
I swallow some saliva back into my mouth. I didn’t expect him to flirt back.
“Shift around,” he says gently. “So your back is facing me.”
I do as he asks. The sound of the zipper on my sundress going down seems to reverberate around the room like a Boeing engine.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speechless before.” He chuckles, warm and husky just as the cold cream hits my skin. “Is there anywhere else that hurts?” he says into my ear.
Is he serious right now?
The iciness of the cream steals my outrage, and I inhale with the uncomfortable sensation. Then I moan in relief.
Finally, annoyance surges in the wake of his suggestive comments. What the hell is he playing at? Did he seriously just say that? I almost want him to repeat it. Actually why the hell not? “Did you just say I make you want to play doctor? Like sexy doctor? Like, ‘let me examine you’ suggestive weirdness?”
“Shut it.”
“No. I won’t.”
“I preferred you speechless.” He swipes more cooling lotion on my back.
“So let me get this straight. You don’t want me, but the second you hear I’m seeing someone else you start coming on to me?” I keep my back to him though I know he’s done. And feel, rather than hear, his body shift away from me. My zipper slowly rises. He’s quiet.
I scoot around on the seat until I face him, my bare knees knock against his rough jeans. “Coz that’s what you just did, isn’t it?” His eyes are cloudy and brooding and locked on my mouth. His skin is flushed. Why does he have to be so Goddamn sexy?
“I never said I didn’t want you.”
I swallow. Speechless for the second time in the space of five minutes.
“But,” he adds. “This—us—just wasn’t advisable.”
I process his words.
What a complete jackass.
Abruptly I stand up in front of him, my dress straps are still down, it makes me feel half undressed. I’m practically standing between his legs I’m so close.
Looking down at him, I narrow my eyes. “Actually, Doctor. I do hurt somewhere else.”
He winces almost imperceptibly. His eyes flick to my chest.
My heart? Is that what he thinks?
Oh, no fucking way.
“Actually …” I lean down and grab his hand and slide it up my dress and between my legs.
Joey expels a shocked breath.
“It hurts right here.”
His blue eyes flare dark as the surprise and arousal stuns him.
I press his hand against my underwear. “Feel like soothing this ache?” I hiss.



Al That Jazz by Natasha Boyd   © 2016 Natasha Boyd

The Summer I turned 18
“You really didn’t have to drive me, you know.” I was sitting in Joseph’s red pickup, leaning as far away from him as possible in case I accidentally inhaled the smell of him and moaned or something.
“Oh shut up, already. We’re almost there.” He shook his head, amused.
I kept testing myself. I’d glance at his forearm, or his thigh, or his profile and check my body reactions. It was awful. Every single damn time, my belly clenched or did this weird bubbling thing. And when he changed gears and his fingers closed over the gear stick and his thigh muscles tensed, it was excruciating. God, I needed a Pepto Bismol. What the hell had happened to me? It was like I woke up in Narnia or Wonderland or an alternate reality. Or in Erath. God, I wished it was book world Erath instead, and this was Jack Eversea I was crushing so hard on. But, no.
I grunted, disgusted at myself. “Well, you don’t have to wait on me, I’ll—”
“What? Catch a taxi home? Do you know how much that will cost? What’s going on with you?” He glanced at me before concentrating back on the road. “I offered to help you, you accepted. Now you’re being weird.”
“I’m not.”
“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to avoid me. And here I was thinking we were finally becoming friends.”
“We are. I’m not. I …” I trailed off.
“Whatever.” He shook his head. “Okay so, look, I’m glad we’re alone so we can talk.”
I swallowed, my ribcage growing tight. “Yeah?”
“So is he the guy?”
“Chase Kennedy?”
Joey took his eyes off the road and looked at me, making me feel like a middle schooler who’d just forgotten to hand in my assignment.
“Oh. Chase,” I managed. “Yeah. So yeah. He’s the guy. The lucky dude,” I finished lamely, looking out the window. “Hey, can we roll these down?” I asked reaching for the window crank.
“I don’t like it.”
“What? The windows open?” I asked knowing full well that wasn’t what he meant.
“No. Him as the guy.”
“I don’t care.”
“He’s a player.”
I shrugged. “Probably.”
“He was drinking last night.”
“Aaaand?” I snorted.
“So did you have any?”
“Oh my God. Are you serious right now?”
“Yes. I think he was trying to get you drunk so he could sleep with you.”
I choked out a laugh. “On one sip of whiskey? Yeah. Right.”
“There could have been something in it.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Joseph.”
“What? Don’t be mad at me just for caring about you. You’re like a little sister to me. I’d say the same thing to Keri Ann.”
My heart thudded heavily. “Well, I’m not. Your sister I mean. So quit it.”
“Anyway, why do you want to give your virginity to some frat boy player?”
“As opposed to?”
“Dammit, Jazz.” He growled, changing lanes as we crossed the bridge over the Broad River Estuary toward Beaufort. “I’m just trying to stop you from making a mistake.”
I chewed my lip. I felt faintly nauseous. Here I was coming to terms with a massive crush, and he was still lecturing me like I was his baby sister. “Too late,” I muttered. I’d managed to inadvertently make the biggest mistake possible. Developing feelings for my best friend’s brother.



Al That Jazz by Natasha Boyd   © 2016 Natasha Boyd

The Summer I turned 18
Joey shook his head. “This is a really fucking bad idea,” he muttered before leaning down and taking my mouth with his.
My heart raced.
He moved in front of me. His hand slid into my hair behind my head and his lower body connected with mine, pressing me against the railing.
Oh, God.
My arms skated up his biceps to his hard shoulders until they grasped at his neck.
I was terrified he’d suddenly raise his head and stop kissing me. The feel of him against me, against my body, the heat of his mouth, the skin of his neck under my fingers was like what I imagined a hit of ecstasy felt like. It was sudden and overwhelming and euphoric. I let out a low moan of need, my mouth opening under his. God, yes.
His hands tightened on me. He lifted his mouth fractionally as if the sound shocked him. His eyes were dark, his brow furrowed. We each took a breath against each other’s mouths.
I licked my bottom lip. Please let him not stop, I want more. I leaned up and nipped at his mouth.
He let out a shallow breath that caught. “A really, really bad idea,” he murmured before his mouth was on mine again. His tongue licked into me. His hands couldn’t seem to find where to hold me as they moved from my hair, to my back, to my face. He held my face, angling my mouth to suit him. Jesus. My body strained against his without me even meaning to. I felt his erection thick and heavy between us. Holy shit. Yes. I pressed closer. Damn, he tasted good. I kissed him back with everything I had like I could imprint the taste and feel of him on me forever.
His mouth pulled from mine, his wet lips and hot breath skating to my ear and down my neck. I held his head, my fingers slipping into his silky hair.
“But really, really … really good,” I whispered, gasping as his teeth and tongue worked down my neck. The sound of his ragged breathing almost did me in as much as the feel of it against my skin.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his tone tortured as if he had no will against what he was doing.
An aching and relentless need had taken root low in my belly. The urge to open my legs and wrap them around him, seeking relief was almost becoming tunnel-like. I could barely think. How had a simple kiss moved from hot to … this … in less than two minutes? This was no kiss for anyone’s benefit. This was no favor. This was pure, raw, unadulterated want. This was what I wanted sex to feel like. This was not even close to how it felt when Chase kissed me. Chase was definitely the wrong choice. Joey. I wanted this with Joey. I wanted him to be my first. The sudden image of him naked on me, my legs wrapped around him as he kissed me like this, went off like a lust-bomb in my stomach and I whimpered—a strange tortured sound.
Fisting my hands in his hair, I pulled his face back to mine. His hips rocked against me, and his tongue sank into my mouth. We kissed, and we kissed. It was like we couldn’t stop. He became my air, and I thought I’d rather die kissing him than ever breathe again.

Excerpt 5:  
Al That Jazz by Natasha Boyd   © 2016 Natasha Boyd

“Look,” he says. “I hope we can be friends when I come home.”
“I thought, according to you, we were friends. My bad.” I mentally say a thousand thank yous that he can’t see my face. Friends was apparently all he ever thought we were. Even when I was eighteen and naked under his body.
“I’m sorry, okay. I don’t know how many times I need to say it. Or for how long. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I snap, hating myself more with every passing second of this stupid, stupid, stupid lapse in judgment I’ve had by calling him.
“Clearly, it’s still not. God, I wish I could go back and stop anything happening between us. But I can’t. I can only apologize.”
“Well, that’s the difference then,” I respond, unable to be anything but honest. “I don’t. I don’t wish it away. I’d never change it. I just wish we’d had a different ending.” Or any ending at all, actually.
“Then I guess that’s what I’m sorry for.”
“Whatever,” I say and fumble as I blindly hit the button to end the call. I’m breathing hard. Why the hell did I call him?
Is there anything worse in this world than being desperately in love with someone who is simply … indifferent to you?

Author Bio:

Natasha Boyd is an internationally bestselling and award-winning author of contemporary romantic southern fiction. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Psychology, and has a background in marketing and public relations. Eversea, her debut novel, was a finalist for Contemporary Romance in the 2013 Winter Rose Contest, won the 2014 Digital Book Award for Adult Fiction and is a LIBRARY JOURNAL self-e selection 2015. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Georgia Romance Writers and Island Writer's Network in coastal South Carolina where she has been a featured speaker on book marketing. She lives with her husband, two sons and the cast of characters in her head.

Natasha grew up in South Africa, Belgium and England. She now lives and writes full-time in the USA.

Her work is available in English, Italian, Turkish, German, and Indonesian.

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