Monday, February 9, 2015

Riot by Jamie Shaw Blog Tour with 5 star review and Giveaway

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Riot


When Dee Dawson meets sexy mohawked guitarist Joel Gibbon, she knows it won't be long before she has him wrapped around her finger. No guy has ever been able to resist her … but Dee's met her match in a player like Joel.

Dee's not the relationship type—not after seeing the pain "love" has caused her friends and family—yet she's desperate to make Joel want her more than anyone else. He quickly becomes an obsession, and when a reckless attempt to make him jealous ends in disaster, Dee turns into the damsel in distress she never wanted to be. With her carefree world crashing down around her, the last thing she needs is Joel's pity.

But Joel is suddenly determined to prove he cares, and no matter how hard Dee tries to push him away, he refuses to let her shut him out. Now the girl who swore she'd never say those three little words must choose between guarding her heart and losing Joel forever … or falling head over heels for the tattooed rock star of her dreams.




We got a glimpse of Dee and Joel in Mayhem, the first book in the series. Their story intrigued me and I couldn't wait to get my hands on this one. 

Dee has met her match in Joel. He knows what games she's playing and does everything he can to throw her off. Which irritates the crap out of her.  There were many times I just wanted to smack Dee and ask what the heck she was thinking. Their little games were so frustrating at times. It's like all they wanted to do was hurt the other or make them jealous. 

It took a rather traumic event, but Dee found the error of her ways. She let down her walls and gave Joel access to her heart. Watching these two grow and mature was such an emotion ride. I loved every minute of it. I highly recommend this book to anyone. 



 “Kiss me,” I order the luckiest guy in 

Mayhem tonight. When he sat next to me at the bar earlier with his “Leave It to Beaver” haircut, I made sure to avoid eye contact and cross my legs in the opposite direction. I didn’t think I’d end up making out with him, but now I have no choice.

A dumb expression washes over his face. He might be cute if he didn’t look so. freaking. dumb. “Huh?”

“Oh for God’s sake.”

I curl my fingers behind his neck and yank him to my mouth, tilting my head to the side and hoping he’s a quick learner. My lips part, my tongue comes out to play, and after a moment, he finally catches on. His greedy fingers thread into my chocolate brown curls—which I spent hours on this morning.

UGH.

Peeking out of the corner of my eye, I spot Joel Gibbon stroll past me, a bleach-blonde groupie tucked under his arm. He’s too busy whispering in her ear to notice me, and my fingers itch to punch him in the back of his stupid mohawked head to get his attention.

I’m preparing to push Leave It to Beaver off me when Joel’s gaze finally lifts to meet mine. I bite Beaver’s bottom lip between my teeth and give it a little tug, and the corner of Joel’s mouth lifts up into an infuriating smirk that is so not the reaction I wanted. He continues walking, and when he’s finally out of sight, I break my lips from Beaver’s and nudge him back toward his own stool, immediately spinning in the opposite direction to scowl at my giggling best friend.

“I can’t BELIEVE him!” I shout at a far-too-amused-looking Rowan. How does she not recognize the gravity of this situation?!

I’m about to shake some sense into her when Beaver taps me on the shoulder. “Um—”

“You’re welcome,” I say with a flick of my wrist, not wanting to waste another minute on a guy who can’t appreciate how long it took me to get my hair to curl like this—or at least make messing it up worth my while.

Rowan gives him an apologetic half smile, and I let out a deep sigh.

I don’t feel bad about Beaver. I feel bad about the dickhead bass guitarist for The Last Ones to Know.

“That boy is making me insane,” I growl.

Rowan turns a bright smile on me, her blue eyes sparkling with humor. “You were already insane.”

“He’s making me homicidal,” I clarify, and she laughs.




Born and raised in South Central Pennsylvania, JAMIE SHAW earned her M.S. in Professional Writing from Towson University before realizing that the creative side of writing was her calling. An incurable night owl, she spends late hours crafting novels with relatable heroines and swoon-worthy leading men. She's a loyal drinker of white mochas, a fierce defender of emo music, and a passionate enthusiast of all things romance. She loves interacting with readers and always aims to add new names to their book-boyfriend lists.






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