Title: I Hate Myself for Loving You
Series: Scorned Lovers
Author: Simone Harlow
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Rockstar Declan Shaw has everything. The talent that has made him a superstar. Golden God looks that ensures he can have any woman he wants. Money that lets him afford anything he wants. And fame that has garnered him a stalker. So he hires the one thing he doesn’t have. A bodyguard. A sexy, no-nonsense bodyguard who isn’t impressed with his talent, his looks, his money, or his fame.
Former Army Officer Jane Peterson is a battle hardened soldier. She is ready for anything. Even playing his fake girlfriend. What she isn’t ready for is Declan Shaw. The man who hides his caring nature behind his seductive jaded façade. For her failure is not an option. She will wrangle the rock star love God by any means necessary.
What neither one of them counted on was the sizzling attraction between them. One that could jeopardize Declan’s life or expose Jane’s long held secrets.
Once upon a time Simone Harlow decided to write a book. She never understood why she had to write a book she just did. She has a great life. A family that loves her. Friends she can mother. And a dog who thinks she’s his reason for living. (No, really, he told her so.) She should be content. But alas she still had to write that book. So she did, and it was the beginning of an excellent adventure.
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Murder Feels Bad
-- EXCERPT: … But you do at least know about the empathy thing, right? Okay. Super fast, so we don’t bore all the organized readers … my friend, housemate/landlord, and sidekickee Mark Falcon (I’m the sidekick) is the world’s one and only legit empath detective. He can feel other people’s emotions. Even when he doesn’t want to. Which is crazy awesome, but on top of that, Mark has chosen to use this superpower to fight crime, vibing the innermost secrets of real-deal murderers and bringing them to justice. So far we’ve been at it for a solid month. And there were these two suspects, Dr. Jivanta Kistna and, um, this other guy I won’t name in case you didn’t read Book 1 (Murder Feels Awful) yet, and they did a bunch of crazy stuff I can’t tell you about here but the upshot was, they decided to get married. Like, right away. I don’t know how they pulled that off, since Jivanta’s family turned out to be Catholic and I thought they had rules about that. I think Jivanta wanted to get the wedding in while the Blue Ridge Mountains were still at Peak Autumn Gorgeous. In a good year, the view out here in rural Virginia is continuously breathtaking. You can’t even (for instance) be running late for a wedding without a lush distant backdrop of mountainous fall foliage, serene in every direction. Unfortunately, if you are running late for that wedding, the fantastic scenery on a crisp sunny morning just seems wildly inappropriate, even sinister… [Mark, Pete (the narrator), and Pete’s plus-one, his nurse friend Ceci, barely make it to the wedding on time…] We grabbed a pew, just as the music fired up and the first awkward couple started the long march. I didn’t know any of these people, but Ceci was craning to see the entire wedding party with endless enthusiasm. She’d probably know half of them by the end of the reception. I caught her eye and grinned. She grinned back, sparkling and happy. Then Jivanta made her entrance. I hadn’t seen Jivanta since the “suspect party”, weeks ago. Even in civilian clothes, Jivanta’s eyes and smile can induce a mind-altering state. Now, maxed out in makeup and a bridal gown… … I kind of blissed out. Except the bliss was steeped with pain, because how could I ever really have a woman like that? When my trance faded, Ceci was staring ahead, obviously hurt. I gave an inward sigh. Even though we were totally here as friends, it couldn’t feel great to have your dude gawking at another woman … especially the bride. I realized I’d have to show some finesse here. Not only is Ceci one of my best friends, but I’d been racking up karmic debt to her like crazy, especially lately. The last thing I wanted was to make her feel bad. I leaned toward her to whisper some smooth reassurance. Oops. Wrong sight line. Because in the next pew over, the hottest blonde I’d seen in months stood alone. She didn’t just stand, she had that curvy lean thing going on, relaxing on one black-hosed leg, where a woman has so much pent-up curvaceous goodness in so many ways that she can’t even stand up straight, she has to slow burn in a sinuous stance of sensuality. Even as I looked, she turned right toward me, locked my gaze in her own mascara-ringed infinities, and smiled. At me. And I thought I’d been blissing over Jivanta. Ceci groaned. I startled, panicking that I’d been caught again. “What?” I whispered. “Female emergency,” Ceci hissed. “What is it?” I whispered. “You can tell me.” “No I can’t,” she snapped. “Save my seat.” She slipped out and clacked away down the aisle. She always wobbles a little on those unfamiliar high heels. With Ceci gone, the pull of the blonde amped up like crazy. I was terrified to look back, terrified not to look back. At the front of the church, the wedding had already begun, but I was in another world entirely. Beside me, Mark grunted. “Seriously, Pete? Now?” Have I mentioned that Mark and I have this weird connection? And it’s getting worse. I wouldn’t mind so much if I could vibe his thoughts once in awhile. “Dude,” I whispered. “Look at her.” Mark flicked her a glance. “So?” “So?” I said. “Can you see if she likes me?” “WHAT?” he snapped. “Did you not hear anything last night from my Akina disaster?” Oh right. The night before, we’d stayed up too late doing this whole interview thing that turned into a novella. Like, literally, it’s a novella now, you can read it. And it’s free, it’s a mailing-list-only thing — but don’t go get it now if you haven’t read it, I’ll put the link at the end. All you need to know here is that in Mark’s distant past, trying to vibe whether women liked him had led to, um … problems. “That was different!” I said. “Sure it’s different,” he said. “You’re fricking here with Ceci.” “As a friend! And I’m not going to ignore Ceci, I could just get the girl’s number—” “No! Besides, I’ve got my shields maxed out.” You remember shields, right? In theory, an empath can reduce the constant emotional onslaught by visualizing some kind of shield. A castle wall, a glowing force field, whatever. But it takes a lot of concentration, and it’s not super reliable, especially (apparently) at keeping out me. “Why would you have your shields up?” I said. “It’s a wedding!” “Are you kidding? Weddings are worse than funerals. Every woman’s comparing herself to the bride, every dude’s wishing he could have the bride—” “Okay, okay, TMI!” I said. “But can’t you just do a quick check? It’ll only take a minute.” “No.” “If you don’t, I’ll just be wondering the whole time.” Mark eyed me. “You’re going to regret this,” he muttered. “At least try to calm down, you’re causing major interference.” He closed his eyes and looked focused. I strained to be calm. I tried to focus anywhere but the woman … anywhere at all… The priest at the front was super young. He was cracking awkward jokes about him being a new priest and this being his first wedding, and hoping he could say the same for Jivanta and the groom. That one didn’t land so well. I was trying so hard not to look at Mark and guess what he was reading. Then he gasped. And not just any gasp. The kind that made the skin of my neck start to crawl. I looked. He was darting gazes in every direction like a bloodhound. “What is it?” I whispered. “Does she secretly hate me?” “It’s not her,” he snapped. His eyes narrowed. “Something is very wrong.” The priest made another awkward stab at humor, how he was pretty sure he was more nervous than the bride and groom. He’d woken up that morning praying nothing would go wrong-- CLANG. Everyone in the entire church jolted. What the hell was that? CLANG. CLANG. The bell. The bell in the old tower was booming, blasting through the church like an air raid siren. The priest’s smooth face creased with anxiety. Mark shoved out of the pew and ran for the back. I stumbled after him, my heart thudding. As we rushed into the lobby, a piercing wail shrieked beneath the bell. It was a kid, howling. And beneath that, a new yell of pain was stabbing us, a woman crying for help. We followed the cries and burst through a side door into an old brick hallway that led to the tower. We nearly collided with the fat, familiar woman I’d seen before, who was still clutching the cute toddler. Both their faces were distorted with terror. The woman was fleeing, and the girl was squirming frantic against her, trying to escape even faster, mashing her mother’s shoulder with some old holy card. Even in that moment, I noted that the card had a delicate border of lace. It was getting crushed. Then I saw behind them. The frayed end of a thick rope lay on the old brick floor like the rattle of a snake. The rope wound back to what was left of a woman. I could only look for a split second. The body was crushed and obscene, like a broken deer on the side of the road, the red half-eaten carcass stretched across the asphalt. Except this was much worse. Revulsion clenched me. I could already feel the doom of my future nightmares. I had to look somewhere, anywhere else. I looked up. High in the tower, in the dizzy upper darkness, the broken rope dangled. The bell was still ringing from the force of the body’s release…
GIVEAWAY! Mark Falcon, the Empath Detective, may be able to sense people’s emotions, but the rest of us need a little help. If you win this giveaway, you’ll not only get paperback editions of all Mark’s detective adventures so far (including his prequel novella, ORIGIN STORY, which you can’t even BUY in print, because it’s only a gift ebook for my email list friends) … you’ll also get the technology to BE an empath yourself! I refer, of course, to … MOOD RINGS!
Title: Tainted Butterfly
Series: Tainted Knights #2
Author: Terri Anne Browning
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 24, 2017
Blurb
We have a history.
From USA Today bestselling author Terri Anne Browning, comes a new ROCKER seriesâTainted Knights. His childhood was full of darkness and all I have ever wanted was to give him the light. Now he puts that darkness into his music, and protecting the girl who has always worshiped him. But time changes people. It has changed me. I'm no longer the little caterpillar he has always called me. I know he needs meâI need him too. Now I have to make a choice⦠Stay and pretend like he hasnât eviscerated my heart. Or let go of him completely. Author Bio
Terri Anne Browning is multiple USA TODAY bestselling author. Being dyslexic, she never thought a career in writing would be possible, yet she has been on best selling lists multiple times since 2013. Reese: A Safe Haven Novella was her first Indie published book. The Rocker Who Holds Me changed the tables and kicked off The Rocker... series featuring the sinfully delicious members of Demon's Wings. The Rocker... Series is now complete with 12 books and the occasional novella. Other books by Terri Anne include the Angel's Halo MC Series, as well as The Lucy & Harris Novella Series, The Vitucci Mafiosos Series, and The Tainted Knights Rocker Series.
Terri Anne lives in Virginia with her husband, their three demons---err, children--and a hyper Frenchie named Grunt.
Author Links
Title: Inked Hearts
Series: Lines in the Sand #1
Author: Lindsay Detwiler
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 21, 2017
Blurb
âSix years, a complex about my freckles, a love for pastrami, and a fear of failure.
Thatâs what he gave me before slaughtering my heart and my faith in men.â
Suffering from the sting of betrayal, twenty-eight-year-old Avery Johannas quits her job and moves hundreds of miles away to Ocean City, the beach town of her dreams. With the help of her zany roommate, Jodie, Avery finds a new career, home, and freedom. Throughout her self-exploration, she makes only one rule: She wonât give her heart to a man again. Sheâs living for herself this time.
But then she meets Jesse.
A tattoo shop owner, the green-eyed Jesse Pearce is wild with a touch of mystery. As Jesse and Avery explore Ocean City and their friendship, theyâll have a hard time drawing a line in the sand between their hearts.
When summer nights get a little more heated than either expected, theyâll have to ask themselves: Can they let go of their notions of love, or will their hearts be permanently inked by past pain?
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Excerpt
Thereâs some soft rock music playing when I open the door to Jesseâs apartment. The distinct smell of teriyaki sauce permeates the room, dancing in my nose as soon as I walk through the door.
âHey. That looks amazing on you,â he says. Heâs wearing black jeans and a button-up shirt. Heâs gelled his hair, and hints of his cologne permeate the room.
âThanks. I love this. You didnât have to do it.â
âI like to treat my artists well.â
âSo you do this for all of them?â I ask, setting down my bag on the counter.
âOnly the good ones.â
He leans in to kiss me, and I realize how natural this has become. It hasnât taken long for us to settle into couple status. In retrospect, it seems now like it was always coming. It seems unnatural for us not to be like thisâcomfortable, kissing, and together.
Iâm so glad that for once in my life, I broke my own rules.
Jesse leads me to his kitchen table, which is adorned with a dozen pink roses. I smile, gently touching the petals of one.
âThis is beautiful. Thank you.â
âHave a seat. Dinner is ready.â Jesse brings out a few casserole dishes with rice, teriyaki chicken and vegetables, and even some egg rolls.
âDid you make all this?â I ask coyly, pretending to be impressed.
âYeah, it was sort of rough because Iâm not that great at cooking.â
He stares for a moment as he sets the dishes down. I can tell heâs trying to see if I believe him.
I look directly from him to the top of the refrigerator, at a large take-out bag with a familiar Chinese restaurantâs name. I raise an eyebrow.
âThatâs an old bag,â Jesse says, waving a hand but smirking.
âYeah, okay. I just have a feeling this is going to taste just like it.â
âOnly because I worked so hard to get the secret recipe.â
I dig into the dishes, serving myself, laughing at the trouble he went through. âYou know, you didnât have to dirty dishes on my account. I wouldâve been fine with takeout. Iâm not a food snob.â
âThatâs a good thing, because Iâm not much of a cook.â
âOh, and I am,â I say, referring to the pasta debacle.
âWhat a pair, huh?â
I shrug. âCould be worse.â
âIâll drink to that,â he says, holding up his bottle of beer. We clink bottles as we finish eating. To an outsider, Iâm sure it looks ridiculous. My fancy dress and necklace, sitting at a table eating take-out Chinese food.
To me, though, itâs perfect. The man Iâve fallen for sitting beside me, Chinese food, and a comfort I havenât had with anyone else.
As much of a mystery as Jesse Pearce was a few months ago, heâs become as familiar as my new self.
I like this new Avery. I like Jesseâs Avery. I like the Jesse and Avery we are together.
So when we finish eating and he gives me the look Iâve come to recognize, I lean forward, kissing him with a fervor Iâve reserved for this moment, telling him wordlessly that Iâm all his.
As he leads me back to the bedroom and hastily unzips the dress he painstakingly picked out for me, I smile.
For a long time, I didnât think I wanted to belong to any man. For a long time, I thought this part of myself was shut down.
But as Jesseâs hands travel down to the familiar hot-pink underwear Iâm wearing, I feel myself let go of all of those ideas I had before.
Iâve come to realize itâs okay to be his, because Jesse doesnât hold me back. He makes me who I want to be. He makes me the best version of myself.
Loving him might be a risk, and losing myself completely to him tonight might be my undoing. Letting him go, though, is not an option, not when he tosses me back on the bed, and I feel every part of my being succumb to the tattooed hunk moving perfectly on top of me.
And so, after a night of learning what adult sleepovers are actually all about and mastering the sex-hair look, I let go of my rule.
Iâm all in. Iâm all his.
Author Bio
An English teacher, an author, and a fan of anything pink and/or glittery, Lindsay's the English teacher cliché; she loves cats, reading, Shakespeare, and Poe.
She currently lives in her hometown with her husband, Chad (her junior high sweetheart); their cats, Arya, Amelia, Alice, Marjorie, and Bob; and their mastiff, Henry. Lindsay's goal with her writing is to show the power of love and the beauty of life while also instilling a true sense of realism in her work. Some reviewers have noted that her books are not the âtypical romance.â With her novels coming from a place of honesty, Lindsay examines the difficult questions, looks at the tough emotions, and paints the pictures that are sometimes difficult to look at. She wants her fiction to resonate with readers as realistic, poetic, and powerful. Lindsay wants women readers to be able to say, âI see myself in that novel.â She wants to speak to the modern womanâs experience while also bringing a twist of something new and exciting. Her aim is for readers to say, âThat could happen,â or âI feel like the characters are real.â Thatâs how she knows she's done her job. Lindsay's hope is that by becoming a published author, she can inspire some of her students and other aspiring writers to pursue their own passions. She wants them to see that any dream can be attained and publishing a novel isnât out of the realm of possibility.
Author Links
Whip Smart
-- EXCERPT: The loud squawk of a microphone being adjusted jolted me out of my erotic daydream. I turned away from Eric quickly to see Megan and Aaron finally getting ready to sing together. As the opening notes of Your Song started to play, a wave of relief washed over me, but it did little to soothe my jumpy nerves. I concentrated very hard on my bottle of booze and the karaoke, wishing that the sexually-charged moment we’d just shared would fade into obscurity. At first, I thought that Aaron and Megan were going for a Moulin Rouge!-inspired rendition of the song, but it quickly became apparent that while Megan was showing off her Broadway-worthy voice, Aaron was dramatically monologuing the lyrics in the style of William Shatner. I snorted into my bottle of cider when I realized what he was doing, earning me a cheeky sideways glace from Eric that had my face flooding with warmth. “Wow, Luke was right, he really can’t sing,” I joked, hoping to win back the dignity that my snort had snatched away from me. Eric shook his head with a smile. “He’s really not as bad as he pretends to be,” he said. “Are you a singer?” I asked him. It was easy to imagine he was; that voice of his had a heated, sensual edge to it to begin with, in a way that made me think of hot coffee spiked with Bailey’s. Not to mention the brief moments when it dropped into a shiver-inducing low gravel that I suspected was his “Dom voice”. I pictured him at a piano, singing softly as he played with me sitting beside him. “I can be,” he said cryptically, his smirk just barely not cocky. “Luke’s the lead singer, though.” “Why, you guys’ in a band or something?” “Yes.” I tilted my head, eying him skeptically. “You’re not just trying to mess with me, are you?” “You really think so little of me that I would do that to you?” He put his hand to his heart as if I’d stabbed him, but his eyes were glimmering deviously. “So, what, you were just going to casually throw it out there that you’re in a band like it’s no big deal?” I said, pretending to be aloof. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to find someone who wants to know the real you when you’re a big famous rock star.” I snorted again, deliberately this time. “You’re full of shit,” I said, surprising myself as I playfully shoved his arm. Damn, even that brief contact was enough to was enough to make my pulse quicken. “So, who’s all in your band?” “Just, me, Luke, and Aaron. Luke plays guitar and Aaron’s the drummer. Aaron and I were roommates freshman year at CMU, which you know is the school to go to if you’re either a computer genius or a music prodigy, and you can probably guess which of those we were.” “Wow, talented and humble,” I said dryly. “Quiet, you,” he warned playfully, but I didn’t miss the edge of “Dom voice” that had crept in, making me bite my lip with suppressed desire. He continued with his story as if he hadn’t noticed the effect he had on me. “Anyway, there’s plenty of classical music and a capella groups if you’re a non-music major and you’re into that kind of thing, but we were just all ‘fuck it, let’s start our own band’, so I asked Luke to join, and we’ve been playing bars and stuff on weekends ever since. We call ourselves Alien Space Rocks.” “Alien Space Rocks? Sounds like there’s a story behind that.” He shrugged. “It’s a pretty boring story. We were drunk and couldn’t come up with a name.” “So what kind of music do you play?” “Classic rock, mostly,” he said. “Journey, Queen, plus occasionally some early and mid 2000’s stuff that was popular when we were in middle and high school.” “So you’re a nostalgic kind of guy,” I said. “I’d like to hear you guys play sometime.” He fixed me with a self-satisfied grin. “Who would’ve guessed there was more to me than just being a huge nerd,” he said. Now it was my turn to pretend to be wounded. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Didn’t think I came across as the kind of girl who’s… you know, turned off by nerdy stuff.” I gestured at my own elaborate costume. “No, no you don’t,” he said softly, not shy at all as he very thoroughly looked me over. Briefly I was thrown back in time, feeling naked despite my clothes the way I had under his burning gaze all those weeks ago the night we met. I giggled nervously, and his smirk widened into that disarming dimpled smile. My heart fluttered; oh, if he only knew the things that smile did to me. Never before had I been so grateful for such dim lighting, which hopefully obscured the blush creeping over my face. I cleared my throat, but my gaze lingered on him this as we both sipped our drinks. “I mean, some of us are into that kind of thing. And it’s hard not to be impressed by your dedication to total nerd-dom,” I explained quickly, checking him out briefly in his well-fitted uniform and hoping I could pass it off as simply admiring his costume. His eyebrow quirked up, and I felt my pulse quicken as he rested his elbows on the bar and steepled his fingers to regard me closer. “Are you? Why thank you, I’ll try not to let your praise give me too much of an ego boner,” he teased. “I mean, that is kind of a big compliment coming from you, Little Miss Jedi.” “Excuse me, that’s Master Little Miss Jedi to you, Mister Imperial Scum,” I teased back. “I think you came to the wrong place if you were looking for someone to fuck with.” As I lazily reached out to pick up my plastic lightsaber from the bar, Eric’s hand came down suddenly, capturing my wrist. I gasped and my eyes darted back to his face; a playful smirk was on his lips again, and I could feel my own face reddening further. This was all just a bit of harmless roleplay, wasn’t it? Some nerdy joking between friends? Mentally, I urged my pounding heart to relax and allowed myself tight smile of fake annoyance. Oh, so this is how it’s going to be, Mr. Imperial Officer? I thought. Well, two can play at that game. I started to raise my right hand, intending to jab my finger at his face for emphasis as I hit him with a witty comeback. But before I could even finish coming up with what I was going to say, he grabbed my other wrist just as swiftly as he had the first. Instinctively, I twisted and flexed my wrists, testing his hold on me; his grip was loose enough that I could have easily broken free if I’d bothered to put up any real struggle, yet tight enough to convey an undeniable sense of command. And oh, how I wanted to struggle… but not to be free. Something about our little game had changed. The boyishly playful look on his face was now tinged with something much darker, and his eyes… I hadn’t been able to tear my eyes away from his since he’d first grabbed my wrist, but the look he gave me now was positively scorching. The energy coursing between us was almost tangible; I could feel it in the way the warmth of his hands around my wrists flowed down my arms and through my body like an electric current, in the way heat of his gaze triggered an unfurling of desire deep inside me. “And I think all that Jedi arrogance has gone to your head if you thought the Empire wouldn’t find you here,” he said softly, after what seemed like an eternity. “What’s the matter? Can’t use the Force?” He laughed, a low, sexy, dangerous little chuckle that had me pressing my thighs together with another surge of arousal. He broke eye contact for a moment, calmly turning his attention back to his drink as he moved my right hand over to join my left on the bar. But I wasn’t ready to be free yet. I felt a sudden sense of longing, a desperation for our little game not to be over. When he gently placed his left hand over both my wrists, I struggled hard, but pushed into his hand, not away from it. I felt him tense, and, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, he clamped down all the tighter, rather than pulling his hand away. He whipped around to face me again, his expression a mixture of surprise, wicked delight, and a hind of imperious fury that for a split second I thought was 100% genuine. Oh, I had his attention now. And if he had any reservations about what I was doing, then the lustful “game on” look I was aiming at him surely told him all he needed to know. He held my hands there as he took a long drink from his glass, studying me impassively all the while. The back of my neck tingled; in my highly aroused state, my senses seemed to have gone into overdrive. Were people watching us? I glanced nervously over my shoulder; Aaron and Megan had long finished their duet, and while Luke playfully ribbed his friend about his singing abilities, Megan seemed to be trying to cajole a mortified Alexis into stepping up to the microphone. For a second I felt bad for ignoring our friends, but none of them seemed to be paying attention to us. That, or they were making an effort to give us alone time… “Don’t bother. Your rebel friends can’t save you now, Jedi Scum,” Eric sneered. “You’re prisoners of the Empire, now. So why don’t you just tell me where the other Jedi are hiding, and I promise I won’t let you suffer too much before you die. Maybe I’ll even reward you.” “Like hell I’m telling you anything!” I said with as much contempt as I could manage. I felt a little breathless; was it possible we were having just a little too much fun with this? His grip tightened. “We have ways of making you talk.” “Oh, I’m sure you do. Way of making me more… compliant.” “Keep up with that defiant attitude and you’ll find out. I have strict orders to hand you over to my superiors unharmed, but don’t think I won’t make an exception if you continue to resist me.” “I don’t think you’d dare. Then again, maybe you just can’t resist the thought of having that kind of power over a Jedi, seeing her all weak and helpless as you bend her over your knee.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. What the hell are you doing? I berated myself. The minuscule bit of alcohol I’d had was making me far too brave. But I knew on some level it wasn’t the single hard cider that had me so intoxicated. I knew perfectly well what I was doing, and knew equally well that this could be the start of a path I wasn’t ready to walk down. But in the heady rush of that moment, I didn’t care. I was willfully blind to everything but the intoxicatingly irresistible man in front of me and my desperate need to have him spank me. Eric’s eyes widened, and a look of hesitation flitted across his face before the mask of the Imperial Officer settled over it again. He leaned in so close I could feel his hot breath on my face. “I’m beginning to think you’re not going to give me much of a choice,” he said finally. My mouth dropped open a little. Fuck me, he’s actually going for it. “It looks that way. Guess you’ll just have to teach me a lesson in respect.” He stared at me for a long moment, and for a thrilling, scary second I imagined him pulling me off my barstool and across his lap right then and there. But he simply gave a cursory glance around the room, drained the last of his beer from his glass, and stood up. “Be right back, need to use the restroom,” he announced. He barely looked at me, then grabbed his gloves and uniform cap from the bar and turned the corner down the short hallway to the bathrooms. I felt a little dazed; my heart was still hammering away in my chest, and I was flushed all over with pent-up desire. But the arousal was tinged with a creeping sense of humiliation. Was Eric just being a tease? Or had I scared him off with my intensity? “Hey Tera! Where’d Eric go?” Luke’s voice suddenly jerked me back into reality. “Huh? Oh, he just went to the bathroom.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Hey, anyone want to sing with me?” As Megan skipped gleefully over to me, I tried to push the thought of how easily I’d let my wrists get caught in Eric’s waiting grasp out of my mind, how willingly I’d surrendered to him. But no sooner had Megan begun to tug pleadingly on my arm that my phone vibrated with a new text. With a jolt, I noticed it was from Eric. Waiting by the restrooms. Meet me in two minutes if you’re serious. If not, I won’t mention it. No hard feelings.
GIVEAWAY! Cover Design: Amy Daws Release Date: October 24, 2017 SynopsisYou’ve heard the rumors.Yes, they’re all true. The women…the bank account…the really big…
Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m just saying, there’s a reason some call me Mr. Big.
But none of it will matter to her. I’ve known her since we were kids. And she’s just as off limits now as she was then. She’s my best friend’s little sister and when he asked me to give her the grand tour, he did not mean of my bedroom. So Mr. Big has to stay under wraps… One problem, she’s the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. But with the secret I’m keeping, she’ll never love me back.
GoodreadsAmazon US: http://amzn.to/2yGoLIp Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2zw4R27 Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2xjyJxR Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2h1UT1N GiveawaySigned Paperback of Mr. Big & $10 Amazon Gift Card Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b1257f8d200/? Now AvailableMr. Trouble by Nana Malone Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2hPGHZo Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2yzAE4J Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2yzhdbX Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2yzyjqm About the AuthorUSA Today Best Seller, Nana Malone's love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she "borrowed" from her cousin.It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a precocious thirteen. She's been in love with kick butt heroines ever since. With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters. While she waits for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, in the meantime Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.
Connect with NanaNewsletter Sign Up: http://bit.ly/2ga9fMU Facebook Author Page: http://bit.ly/2xQmNaA Goodreads Author Page: http://bit.ly/2ww9kkk Twitter: http://bit.ly/2fIzUjo Instagram: http://bit.ly/2xYEPqK Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2hKVO9Q BookBub Author Page: http://bit.ly/2xYr37n
From the New York Times bestselling author, K. Bromberg, comes a new series about three brothers, the job that calls them, and the women who challenge them. “I hate you. I never want to see you again.” Grant Malone is not the reason I moved back to Sunnyville—at least that’s what I tell myself. Yet, those parting words I said to him back in third grade, ring in my ears every time a townsperson brings up one of the Malone boys. I thought time had healed my wounds. I was wrong. Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt when I finally saw him again. Twenty years does a lot to turn a boy into a man. One who hits all my buttons—sexy, funny, attractive, and a police officer. But Grant is off limits because he knows too much about my past. But I’m drawn to him. That damn uniform of his doesn’t hurt either. It’ll be my downfall. I know it. What’s one night of sex going to hurt . . . right? *** I’ve always loved Emmy Reeves. That’s why I’m shocked to see her all these years later. The shy girl I once knew is all grown up. Adventurous and full of life, she owns my heart now, just as much as she did back then. Convincing her of that is a whole different story. I’ll give her the one night she asks for--like that’s a hardship—but when it comes to letting her walk away after, she has another thing coming. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go this time without a fight. ADD TO GOODREADS
iBooks | B&NNew York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love. A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow. Since publishing her first book in 2013, K. has sold over one million copies of her books and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times. In April, she’ll release The Player, the first in a two-book sports romance series (The Catch, book 2, will be released late June), with many more already outlined and ready to be written. She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales HERE Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon Author | Driven GroupA Little Too Late, an all-new romantic standalone from Staci Hart is LIVE!A Little Too Late by Staci HartPublishing Date: October 24th, 2017Genre: Contemporary Romance
I wasn't supposed to fall in love with the nanny. When my wife left, she took the illusion of happiness with her, and I've been caught in a free fall ever since. For nine long months, I've been fighting to figure out how to be a single dad, how to be alone. For nine long months, I've been failing. When Hannah walked through the door, I took my first breath since I'd found myself on my own. She slipped into our lives effortlessly, showing me what I've been missing all these years. Because Hannah made me smile when I thought I'd packed the notion of happiness away with my wedding album. She was only supposed to be the nanny, but she's so much more. The day my wife left should have been the worst day of my life, but it wasn't. It was when Hannah walked away, taking my heart with her. Read Today!Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2zlwcnI Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2ilmkH9 iBooks: http://apple.co/2iPPgH0 Nook: http://bit.ly/2ewscMg Kobo: http://bit.ly/2xDG7F9 Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2iZfozn
5 Star Review by AshleyHave some tissues and wine ready when you read A Little Too Late because you're going to need it. Staci Hart is still a pretty new to me author. I've only read a few of her books and this one just blew my mind. And heart. I'm going to start with Hannah because she was everything. Joy and grace, peace and hope, forgiveness and love. And just so kind that I couldn't help but adore her. Neither could Charlie, her new boss. I liked that Charlie was a bit broken. Lost but not searching. Until Hannah showed up anyway. She swooped into his life and it was as if the clouds parted, the sun came out and the birds sang. Sounds cliche and maybe it is but the change in him was subtle. It was small things at first. And then the small things became the big things. I absolutely LOVED seeing Charlie with his children. His gentle, caring side. The way he tried. The way Hannah let him. Charlie's fearful and protective side when the past came back to haunt the present and disrupt the future. I don't know what else I can say except read this book. For the love of reading get lost in Staci Hart's words. Let them break you. Let them heal you. Let the love in. Go give someone a hug. Then think of all the ways you want to be a little more like Hannah (I know I did that). A Little too Late is every single thing you could want in a book. It is dreams and fear and so much love you're going to drown in it (in the best way).
About the AuthorStaci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey.From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.
Connect with Staci:Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/ Website: http://stacihartnovels.com Newsletter: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/ Today we have the release day blitz of Breaking Grace by Rose Devereux! Check it out and grab your copy today!Title: Breaking GraceAuthor: Rose DevereuxGenre: Contemporary Romance
About Breaking Grace:Two years ago, I murdered the love of Grace Garrett’s life. I had it all – a thriving company, money, women at my beck and call. Then I shot and killed James Winthrop. And got away with it. His beautiful fiancé is ruined, so damaged she’s destroying herself. And I’m the reason why. Nothing and nobody can save her. Except me. Only I know how to help her start again. By wiping the slate clean. Breaking her down until she’s brand new. And rewarding her obedience with the one thing she truly needs. Vengeance against me.
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Exclusive Excerpt:She walks into the courtroom and everyone stops breathing. Except for me. I breathe harder. Blood surges through my body like a dam just broke, flooding every distant vein. I flex my fists. The instinct to fuck on sight is so strong I can barely stay in my chair. It isn’t because she’s beautiful, though she is. Or dressed to kill, ditto. She’s wearing a cream silk blouse tucked into a skinny, ass-skimming skirt and high-heeled sandals that tie like a little suede rope around her ankles. If they’re supposed to make me think of all the things I could do to her, mission accomplished. Chin high, she strides past the first row of seats. Heads swivel. The chatter stops. Here she comes, the lovely grieving widow. Not exactly widow. Fiancé. And she’s practically a child, only twenty-three. When Dolly Parton wrote Jolene, she was imagining a girl like Grace Garrett. With flaming locks of auburn hair, with ivory skin, and eyes of emerald green. The lyrics are like Grace’s own personal Missing poster. Along with a list of the things I jerk off to every night. There are a few descriptives Dolly didn’t think of, like a click-bait body and a stern, craggy-faced minister for a father. This chick was born for social media. The press loves her. She’s got a good-girl pedigree, and she looks amazing no matter what she’s doing. Sitting, walking, crying, or wishing me stone-cold dead. That’s the part everyone is here to see. The silent explosion when our eyes meet. The epic, David and Goliath battle between her and me. Evil on one side, good on the other. That’s what makes me hard. What can I say? I’ve always liked contrast. Grace doesn’t care if I’m taller, richer, stronger, smarter, and better-looking than anyone she’s ever met. She knows the world loves an underdog, and she’s going to take me down. She’s here to show everyone what a bastard I am. As if they don’t already know. My proclivities have been the stuff of gossip for years. I run with a crowd so wealthy and twisted, there are no limits. When the jury looks at me, they think they know me. They put rumor and wishful thinking together, and create the perfect monster. And they love it. Something makes a brutal sort of sense in their world, and that something is me. If only they knew what Grace knows, and I know. They’d discover that they’ve got the story backwards. I’m not the villain in this tragic drama. She is.
About Rose Devereux:Rose Devereux writes shamelessly dark romance. In her other life, she is a traditionally published author whose books have been translated into five languages. Reviews of her novels have appeared in Cosmopolitan, The Boston Globe, New York Magazine, and the Associated Press. She loves animals, sleeping late, and alpha males, and would drink Prosecco every day at lunch if she could. She lives in Boston and New Hampshire.
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Title: Betrothed to the Badman
Series: Russian Bratva #8
Author: Hayley Faiman
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 23, 2017
Devyn O’Neil, princess of the Irish Mob, was raised to know her place. Marrying a man of her father’s choosing has always been her fate. Yet, she never imagined that one day she’d play the part of a pawn between men on the verge of war. She never dreamed she’d be betrothed to a Russian badman. Timofei Vetrov, son of New York’s Bratva king, grew up to be a bad boy prince. Taking for granted his life of privilege, he scoffed at the rules and did as he pleased. When the Irish murdered his mother, her death changed everything. He never dreamed he’d one day be king. He never imagined such a loss would thrust him into the role of a real man. A marriage, meant to unite the Irish with the Russians and forge a bond of peace, soon becomes much more. The fathers that bind them together cannot foresee the strength that Timofei and Devyn can uncover in their union. Together, their love has the potential to change the game entirely—yet it is a force that can only be reckoned with once found.
Brandy Paige Roberts - “Hayley Faiman has done it again Betrothed to the Badman is one fantastic read…”Bookalicious Babes Blog - “Raw, Intense, compelling, widely-delicious, no one writes sexy hot alpha asshole mafia men like Hayley..”Patrizia’s Book Blog - “Holy Cow!!! What an emotional ride through family betrayal and love.”
I was born and raised in California. My husband and I met when I was just 16. We were married a few years later, moving to Oregon while he was in the US Coast Guard.
Texas is now where we call home, where our boots rest, and where we're raising our two little boys and a chocolate lab named Optimus Prime. |