Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Blog Tour & Giveaway ~ Jahleel by S. Ann Cole


Title: Jahleel (Loving All Wrong #1)
Author: S. Ann Cole
Publication Date: April 8, 2014
Genre: Contemporary Romance 18+
Event Organized By: Literati Author Services, Inc.


~Synopsis ~
A TRUE-ly fabricated story about Love & Obsession...
I’m an idiot.
I’m too stupid to be human. Too stupid to live.
I lack common sense.
I used to be a normal human being. Until the guy in the red hoodie. Just a glance, and I was owned. Enslaved.
What’s worst? He didn’t even notice me.
Yep. You guessed right: I’m delusional. I’m obsessed. I’m a stalker. A martyr. A masochist.
I’ve allowed my obsession to lead me down into a deep, dark pit, selfishly hurting everyone around me, and only his requited love can pull me out of it.
But I won’t apologize for it. I won’t apologize for being in love with Jahleel Kingston.
I’ve loved him at first sight. I’ve loved him for five empty years. I’ve loved him through all his bullcrap and asshole-isms.
I love him even now.
My name is Saskia Day. I’m British. I’m famous. I’m stinking rich. And this is my pathetic story.

Read at your own bloody risk.







*****5- Breathe, Sassy, Breathe -Stars*****
~this review may contain minor spoilers~

Then I became obsessed becoming a Jahleel-craving idiot.
A fool. A dumbarse. A dolt. A lummox. Throw what names you will, I readily accept them.

That was bloody friggin brilliant! Just – WOW. I'm gobsmacked (sorry, channeling my inner-Saskia) but seriously, I completely fell in love with this book. Normally, I despise insta-love (Saskia definitely suffers from that) it just makes things a bit too easy but in this case, things are far from ever easy. This entire book was one huge angst-fest loaded with drama, tears, frustration, panty-dropping sexiness and that is right up my alley. I love a book that forces me through a range of emotions and S. Ann Cole excelled at it.


Once upon a time, I was a strong young woman, but that 'me' died a brutal death the second I laid eyes on the biggest American arsehole ever, who became the bane of my existence, but at the same time, the love of my life and holder of my happiness.

Saskia Day (Kia) met Jahleel Kingston (JK) backstage after her first small yet live performance on-stage. Right from the start she knew she was always going to love that boy, problem was-he never even acknowledged her existence. And thus begins her obsession.

I do wish there was something I could do to make this obsession go away. But... I can't. I've tried and I've failed. Numerous times. I'm subservient to him. Bound and ensnared. Captured and captivated. Taken and held. It is what it is: Jahleel Kingston owns me, and he doesn't eve know it.”

For five years her obsession takes on a life of it's own. Every decision she makes is with Jahleel in mind. Every man she dates is compared to him and none can stack up. And even though she has hit the big-time as a Rock Goddess and is worth millions, envied and desired around the world-to Jahleel, she is no one. Tired of waiting for him to notice her, she decides to walk right up to the source of her obsession and insert herself into his life anyway possible. So, she makes an appointment at his dance studio.


he's the biggest asshole you'll ever come across. I love both of you equally, but I just don't wanna see you getting' hurt... and Kia?”
“Yeah?”
“He will hurt you.”
“He won't”
“You alotta' things, girl. Alotta' things I adore and respect 'bout you. But being stupid ain't one of 'em. Don't see him.”

Even after she sees Jahleel as the asshole that he is, her obsession doesn't wane. Even when he continues to ignore her, sleeping with every woman that crosses his path but her, she loves him still. Nothing he does seems to shake off her feelings, even though she is starting to wish she could just get over it already. He is the one man she wants and he is the one man who doesn't want her.

You're not fuckin' gettin' it. So quit being a bitch.”
“And you need to quit being an arse!”
“It's ass.”
“Piss off!”
“It's fuck off.”
“I really don't like you,”
“and I know a lie when I hear it.”

This book should have frustrated the hell outta me, and it did... to a point, but I loved it anyway. Jahleel's mood swings gave me whiplash, and he proved to be quite a douche, but he was sexy as hell and there were way more layers to him than he let anyone see. You just knew there was sooo much he wasn't telling us and was too damn stubborn to let us in. I can tell you, I wouldn't mind being in a 'platonic' relationship with that one... for awhile anyway. There were sooo many characters to fall in love with, so much angst and drama you could choke on it, steam so hot it will melt your panties and your kindle, I just loved it. Every. Damn. Minute. Now, I'm anxious to see what happens next, I need another Jahleel fix and was stoked to discover there was more to come in the future. And No this book does not have a cliffhanger. S. Ann Cole, you have just earned yourself an obsessed stalker with this book. So....when can I have more?! Lol...but really, When?!

I got attached.
As if being obsessed and in delusional love wasn't enough, now I went and got a-friggin-ttached.



A light knocking sounded on my bedroom door, and I looked up with raised brows. No one came to my floor. Not even Amanda. It was the one request of privacy I insisted everyone in the house respected. Intercoms were wired throughout the house, in case of urgencies or emergencies. So there was no need for anyone to ever come knocking on my bedroom door.
Before I could move to find out who was so presumptuous, the knob turned, and the door swung open.
My heart skyrocketed, blasting a crashing hole through the ceiling.
Jahleel.
He strolled into my bedroom as though it was the most normal thing on earth. As if he slept here, in my room, every night and was only returning home.
What the fuck?!”
Shhh,” he shushed me, pressing his forefinger to his lips.
Don’t shush me!” I snapped, jack-knifing up in bed. “You’re in my bloody bedroom!”
Like a lion strutting proudly in the jungle, he crossed the wide span of space towards me, dressed in all-black: jeans, plain tee, biker jacket and Timberlands, dog-tag dangling on his chest. His facial hair had grown some, but instead of making him look bummy, he looked extra yummy.
Hell and damnation. I was doing so well, so well, for the past week. Now this sonuvabitch just had to walk through my goddamn bedroom door!
You continue to shout, your guards will hear and throw me out on my ass.” Pausing for effect—because he was so fucking good at this—he dipped his chin and asked, “You want them to throw me out, Sassy?”
This guy deserved an award solely for being him, for existing. “H-How?”
I admit,” he held up his palms in surrender, “I use Ferbz to my advantage sometimes.”
He’s come back home?” I asked hopefully.
Jahleel nodded. “Did some moves, splits, back-flips, moonwalks, the whole works, while Ferbz hummed the Mission Impossible tune. Easily slipped past your men in the pool room. We bad.”
Wondering if he was being serious or facetious, I stared at him open-mouthed, but when his lips twitched at the corners, I knew he was messing with me.
Don’t make me laugh. I don’t like you very much,” I angrily responded, sliding back down under the covers as I remembered what I was up to before he came in. My knickers were still wet.
I know,” he admitted humbly.
Coming up to the bed, he sat down on the edge and leaned back on the headboard beside me.
He was being so casual as if he did this a million times. Not even looking around the bedroom, as though he’d seen it all before. No, he was looking down at me.
I came to apologize for the other day. I shouldn’t have left you there like that. But a ton of shit was going on in my head, and I probably would’ve taken it out on you, so I left instead.”
Really?” I shrieked incredulously. “You break into my house to apologize? You couldn’t just, uh, ring me? Text, even?”
Flashing that heart-stopping crooked grin of his, he slid down from his sitting position and stretched out beside me on his side. He extended his arm and rested his head on it as he fixed his eyes on mine. “Okay, you got me. That’s not the only reason.” 




First a reader and second a writer, Ann is an exaggerator, a laugher, sometimes overly chatty, sometimes overly shy. She believes cats are evil, and also detests dogs—mainly because she’d been bitten over a dozen times on separate occasions by the rambunctious creatures in her formative years (even by her own dogs.)
She is not your typical girl: she hates chocolate, candle-lit dinners and all that hearts and flowers stuff makes her feel awkward and coffee makes her drowsier than ever.
A lover of all things ‘romance’, Ann has always been a writer of poetries and songs of any kind. All who’s acquainted with Ann can attest to witnessing her write her way through life: through destruction, devastation, hardship, sadness and disappointments, her coping mechanism has always been writing.
Having an obsessive and unquenchable affair with the written word, she’s naturally a recluse who dwells inside her imagination and has to suffer continual bashings from her friends for being a neglectful pal who does nothing but sit around the computer all day, writing.
When she’s not abusing her computer keyboard, you can find her nosing a novel, watching anything on television that makes her laugh out loud, studying the Bible, or nursing any of the three alcoholic beverages: Black Label and Coke, Heineken, or a glass of Merlot.



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