99c SALE FOR A LIMITED TIME
Title: The No Bad Boy Rule
Series: Rule #2
Author: Ashley Erin
Genre: NA Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 26, 2015
Six years ago, a positive pregnancy test destroyed Ava. Her goals, her relationship, the entire way she viewed her future.
From the rubble, a rule was created: No bad boys.
In their wake is chaos and destruction, something she could no longer risk.
Ava has been happy with this rule, until now.
The bad boy across the hall makes her want to abandon it. Those hazel eyes piercing her, as though they can read her mind. That gentle smile as he interacts with her son. Dax awakens something in her that she’s never felt before.
Will she regret opening her heart to another bad boy?
Dax is determined to earn back the respect he lost for himself years ago and create a future he can be proud of. He’s spent his life breaking rules and now he has a rigid set of rules to live by.
Ava is a distraction he doesn’t need.
Nothing like the women from his past, everything about her from her adorable son to the paint constantly covering her hands reminds him of why he needs to focus. He knows the look in her eyes, he fights the urge to give in to that look. He doesn’t deserve it, at least not yet.
Will Dax ever feel like he’s earned it, or will a call from his past cause him to push her away for good?
Rules are meant to be broken. The No Bad Boy Rule is a standalone novel. It is Book 2 in the Rule series. NA Contemporary Romance.
Ashley has a degree in Psychology and has worked in the Human Services field for five years. She loves reading romance, new adult, paranormal and fantasy novels. She lives in Spruce Grove, Alberta with her boyfriend, two dogs and four cats. She also has a horse she loves with all her heart. When she is not working with the horses, reading and writing, you can find her on social media.
Our story started like the fairytales you grew up reading, but it doesnât end like them.
I was fifteen when I realised I was in love with Cole. He was the foster kid who wore scruffy clothes and never had any money. He was the bad boy, the fighter. The boy who took all the daresâand won. He was the boy that scared me but excited me at the same time. He was the boy I shouldnât have wanted, but, of course, he was the one I wanted the most.
In the beginning, he was mine. And I was his.
Cole and Evie. Evie and Cole.
But then a lie was told. Lies break people. And broken people shatter into little pieces of tortured pasts and fractured futures.
And then our fairytale beginning morphed into a story of heartache and sadness, instead of happiness and hope. A story that ended with lost love, friendship, and a never-ending cycle of what ifs and if onlys.
Our ending broke me. Shattered me. Destroyed me.
When a story ends like ours did, is it any wonder I never wanted to start a new one again?
Eight years ago
Scorching hot tears streak down my freezing cold cheeks and snake into the corner of my mouth as I walk over the sleet-covered field. When my eyes land on our tree, I suck in a big breath and pull it deep into my lungs, hoping itâll be enough to suffocate the ball of dread thatâs swirling around in my chest.
This used to be a place full of happy memoriesâ¦the place where I played tag with my brother and best friend until long after the sun had set, the place where I grew from a girl into a young woman, and the place that I ran to when I needed to escape. Itâs also where I met Cole for our first date. And where Iâm standing now is the exact spot where we shared our first kiss.
But the memories I used to love and cherish are now tainted with anger that boils so fiercely within me that I know Iâll never set foot in this place again after today. Itâs something else that heâs ruined for me and something else I hate him for.
I look up and watch the branches of the oak tree bend and whine in the wind as if crying out for me to not do this. I touch the trunk where our initials are carved into the middle of a heart and cough out another huge sob. Cole and Evie wonât be forever. Not now.
I tip my head back, letting the ends of my hair tickle the bottom of my spine, and stare at the angry clouds through the bare branches. The icy-cold rain pelts me from every angle, soaking right through my thin coat until it settles deep into my bones. It pours down my face and mingles with my tears as if itâs trying to hide them for me. I want to shout out that itâs useless, that nothing can hide my tears. I should know because Iâve been trying to hide them every single day for the last five weeks.
I turn when I hear footsteps. The sight of him in a suit momentarily stuns me. Itâs far too big for him and looks a little cheap, but heâs still incredibly handsome in it. Iâve never seen him in a suit before, and I canât get over how much it ages him. For just a few seconds, I let myself imagine my hands pushing the jacket over his shoulders and then unbuttoning his shirt.
âYou came,â he says in a voice thatâs so familiar to me, I cling to it like a child clings to a comfort blanket.
I shake my head to try and dislodge the images that are whirling through my mind. Iâm not supposed to be thinking of him like that. âYes,â I answer.
âI didnât think you would.â When he steps closer, I notice that he has tears falling down his cheeks too. âHow was the funeral? I wish I had been there. I wanted to be there.â
âDonât,â I say. âI donât want to talk about it with you.â
He nods, looking sad. âIâve missed you so much,â he whispers, reaching his hand out for me. âThe last five weeks have felt like five years.â
I take a step back and collide with the trunk of the tree. Hurt flashes across his face.
âIâm confused and Iâm hurting,â I blurt before he takes another step towards me. I want to tell him the truth, but Iâm scared. Iâm scared he wonât understand.
âConfused about what, Evie?â
âI love you,â I breathe, wiping away a fresh set of tears with the back of my hand. âBut now I hate you, and I donât think I will ever be able to forgive you for what youâve done.â The ball of pain thatâs lodged itself in the centre of my chest cracks and starts to bleed down into my stomach, filling it was so much hurt that it makes me feel sick. And then my heart breaks all over again as I see his bottom lip tremble.
âNo, Evie,â he whispers. âPlease donât say that.â
âIâm so sorry,â I sob. âIâm sorry, Cole.â
He shakes his head, causing the damp strands to flick across his forehead. âNo,â he repeats, âIâm sorry. If onlyââ
âThatâs it,â I interrupt. âThatâs what weâd be saying for the rest of our lives, and I canât live like that. I wonât live like that.â
He swears and pushes his fingers through his wet, dark hair. His skin normally looks tanned and clear, but today itâs pale and blotchy. His light brown eyes that usually sparkle and shine at me look dull and lifeless. He looks like crap.
âI donât ever want to see you again,â I whisper.
Anger flashes across his face as he drops his hands from his head and looks down at me. âSo this is it?â he snaps. âThe last three years have meant nothing to you?â
âTheyâve meant everything to meâ¦everything.â
He takes a deep breath and slams his fist against the trunk, just above my head. âYou wonât even visit?â
I flinch as bits of bark tumble over my shoulders. âI canât.â
âCanât or wonât?â he questions, raising his eyebrows at me.
âIt wouldnât be good for us,â I say. âYou must be able to see that.â
He steps forwards, completely eradicating any distance that Iâd created between us, and cups my face in his big, warm hands before I have a chance to protest. âWhat I see is a girl who is so broken sheâs shattering into a thousand pieces right in front of me. Sheâs so fragile that I darenât even touch her, but I have to. Because this is my last chance, isnât it, Evie?â
He gently skims his thumb across my cheek. I nod and then look away from those desperately sad eyes of his. âYes.â
âYou know what the worst thing about this is?â he spits.
I peel my eyes from the ground and blink up at him through the rain. Heâs always been handsome, with a face that I could stare at every single second of every day. But right now, when Iâm on the brink of never seeing him again, I can barely look at him. âWhat?â
âI want to kill the man that did this to you,â he growls.
I want to kill him too. âYou did this,â I whisper.
He canât meanâ¦ âYouâre not going toââ
He shakes his head. âNo, Iâm not. There are people that need to see that someone is punished. I know that, understand it, and even respect it,â he says. âThey need to see justice has been done, and right now, I think youâre one of those people.â
I look deep into his eyes, but I donât answer him. How could I? Iâm supposed to love him, no matter what. But heâs right; I need to see him suffer for what heâs done.
âI deserve it,â he says. âBut nothing they do will compare to how much itâs going to fucking hurt to let you go. Iâm going to let you go because you deserve better than me. You deserve a life, and more than anything, you deserve to be happy.â
Before I can say or do anything, Cole buries his hands into my hair and crushes his lips against mine. Theyâre soft and considerably warmer than my lips, and theyâre a mixture of everything I love about him and everything I hate.
He places the palm of his hand against my back and then slides it down to the bottom of my spine. He pulls, forcing me to press against him where I fit like weâre two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and I wonder if anyone else will ever come close to making me feel so whole.
He tears his mouth away and then presses his cheek against mine. I feel him shuddering as the sobs vibrate through his whole body. âIâll always love you,â he whispers into my ear. âItâll only ever be you, Evie. Please donât ever forget that.â And then he pushes away from me, turns around, and walks across the grass until he reaches the waiting car. Without looking back, he opens the rear door and climbs in.
The pain in my chest explodes and my knees buckle as I watch the car disappear around the corner. I crumple to the cold ground, curl into a ball, and let the rain soak me as I scream out his name over and over again.
Beckie's real name is Rebecca, but she getâs called (and answers to) any of the followingâ¦Beckie, Bek, Becca, Rebecca, Pip, Pippy or Stevo.
Beckie is the author of 'Sorrow Woods,' the 'Existing' series and 'Noah and Me.'
She is due to publish more YA and NA novels in 2015/16.
She lives in Staffordshire, England, with her partner and two children.
Beckie likes putting music on in the house and dancing around like a mad woman.
When she isnât playing with her children, doing housework, dancing around the house like a mad woman, walking, cycling reading or writing, then she can be found working in an investment bank. Or sleeping.
You can find Beckie hereâ¦
King: Homeless. Hungry. Desperate. Doe has no memories of who she is or where she comes from. A notorious career criminal just released from prison, King is someone you don’t want to cross unless you’re prepared to pay him back in blood, sweat, sex or a combination of all three. King’s future hangs in the balance. Doe’s is written in her past. When they come crashing together, they will have to learn that sometimes in order to hold on, you have to first let go.
Tyrant: I. Remember. Everything. But the relief I thought I would feel never comes, and I’m more afraid now than I was the morning I woke up handcuffed in King’s bed. Because with the truth comes dark secrets I was never meant to know. I will put the lives of those I love most at risk if I let on that my memory has returned, or if I seek help from the heavily tattooed felon who owns me body and soul. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist the magnetic pull toward King that grows stronger every day. He’s already saved me in more ways than one. Now it’s my turn to do whatever it takes to save him. Even if that means marrying someone else…
Book: The Last Shot
Author: Sarah Hubbard
Genre: Contemporary Romance/ New Adult
Annie: As a child I was unwanted and unloved. Tossed aside until my maternal grandmother came to claim me. Life got better after that, and it got better still when I met Ethan Michaels, the boy down the street who was determined to make me feel like I mattered. At first he was my friend, but then he became much more. But love isnât real. Not in my world.
When Ethan left to pursue professional hockey I had to make a clean break. I couldnât wait for him to find someone better, couldnât wait for him to break my heart. Itâs better to leave than be left. But now heâs back, and I can't run from him anymore.
Worseâ¦he won't let me.
Ethan: Annie Fraser owned me as a kid. She owns me still. When I got my first contract to play professional hockey I asked her to come with me, but she wouldnât leave Rawdon, not while her grandmother was sick. I understood. Still, I wanted to stay together, do whatever I could to keep her.
But she wanted to run.
I loved her enough to let her.
Now Iâm back in town and Iâm pissed. I think I hate her. Iâm sure of it. Until I see herâ¦ and those old feelings come rushing back. I wonât let her walk away again. I donât care what it takes.
I want to defend Ethan, because Charlie's on the outside looking in and I don't like him thinking that Ethan is...whatever he thinks Ethan is. He can't know how Ethan helped pull me from the darkness that consumed me when I first came to this town. He made me smile, for the first time after my mom abandoned me. He spent all of his time just being there for me, loving me, making me feel like I mattered. On the outside and to the press he might look like a jackass but I know better. They only see the self-destructive Ethan. They donât get to see the side I see, the side he seems to save just for me.
Sara Hubbard is the author of romantic fiction. Her debut novel BLOOD, SHE READ released fall 2012 and was a NEORWA Cleveland Rocks winner and a RCRW Duel on the Delta finalist. Her first contemporary novel, Beautiful and Broken was an Amazon bestseller. Sara lives in Nova Scotia, Canada with her two children (four if you count her husband and her needy labradoodle) and works as a registered nurse.
Alexandra McCabe is disconnected from the world, grieving the loss of her parents...
Content with studying and keeping to herself, Alex has no interest in the campus playboy, Drew Collins, trying to get close to her. But even dousing him with beer doesn't deter the easy-going charmer, and against her better judgment, the pair fall into a reluctant friendship.
Drew is bored with college life, and Alex's romantic rejection intrigues him...
Their friendship is good for both of them, but Drew is used to getting what he wants, and he's tired of shallow sorority girls. He's much more interested in the feisty redhead, but despite his growing feeling, Alex keeps him firmly in the friend zone.
Old heartaches and new tragedies deepen a complicated relationship...
Whatever life throws their way, Alex and Drew remain best friends with their own traditions. Drew is Alex's family, her rock, and Alex keeps Drew grounded, always challenging him to better himself.
When years of buried feelings rush to the surface, they threaten to change everything...
Drew promised his mother he'd tell Alex how he feels, when the time is right-but how will he know when that is? Alex is terrified to reveal those 'three little words' certain Drew doesn't feel the same, and she'll lose the only family she has.
Should Alex and Drew open their hearts, and risk being crushed? Should they be satisfied with a deep, lifelong friendship? Or does the only chance for happiness lie...
I walked into Spike’s a half hour later and David was already there with a pitcher of beer and a huge plate of nachos. I gave him a hug, clapping him on the back.
“You look like shit,” he said.
“What’s up? Rough night?” He didn’t even know the half of it.
“If we are going to get into this, I’m going to need a shot.” I flagged down the waitress and ordered a shot of Jack Daniels.
“This is serious,” David said.
The waitress came back quickly with my drink and set it down in front of me with a glare. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. I took the shot and waved at the waitress to bring me another.
“Dude, what is with you?”
“Alex. Fucking Alex”
“You’re fucking Alex?”
“What? No! I’m not fucking her. I’m starting to, you know…”
“You’re starting to what?” A ghost of a grin appeared on his face.
“Come on, man. Don’t make me say it.”
“Oh, I’m going to make you say it.”
“I’m starting to have feelings for her, okay, asshole! Is that what you want to hear?” I dropped my head into my hands.
“To be honest, I didn’t think you were capable.”
“Of what? Having feelings? Or falling for her?”
“Falling for her?” he asked. “You said you were starting to have feelings for her. Now you are falling for her?”
“Yeah. So?” I stared down into my beer, unable to look him in the eye.
“So? There is a big difference, man. You have feelings for some nice girl you’ve been out with a few times. You fall for the girl and game over.”
“Look, I don’t know which one it is, okay? This shit is new to me. I don’t do relationships. Hell, I do everything I can to avoid them.”
“That’s for damn sure,” the waitress mumbled, slamming my drink down in front of me.
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” I snapped.
Her eyes narrowed and she slapped me hard across my cheek. She glared at me for a minute before I noticed her name tag. Tracy. Shit, she was that girl from before the house warming party. Well, that explained the slap. She huffed and stomped off as I pressed a hand to my cheek. I guess I deserved that.
David was trying desperately to contain his laughter and I glared at him as I tossed back the second shot. Odds are Tracy probably spit in it.
Samatha “Sam” Harris lives near Baltimore, Maryland with her husband David and daughter Ava. Born in Florida, she migrated north which most people agree was a little backwards. She has been an artist all of her life, a Tattoo Artist for more than ten years, and a storyteller since she was a kid.
Sam has a slightly unhealthy love for Frank Sinatra, classic movies, and Jazz and Blues music, but her first love will always be reading. From Romance, to Thrillers, to Historical Fiction and everything in between, she loves to become a part of the story. As a writer she tells the stories that she would want to read.
TITLE : Unwanted Love
AUTHOR : Rachel Smith
RELEASE DATE : December 15, 2015
I’m Kat Willis - the ultimate party girl.
I’ve lived a privileged life in picturesque Crystal Lake. On the outside, I have it all. Money, good looks, and any guy I want.
Until he came along….Jaxson McAllister. Insanely sexy with a killer smile, I never stood a chance.
He saw a part of me I’d kept hidden behind the façade of a good time.
I wasn’t prepared for him to turn my world upside down, but when he did, all the broken pieces of my life fell into place. Everything I’d told myself I never wanted, suddenly became exactly what I needed.
READ THE First 2 chapter's on Rachel's Blog : http://www.rachelsmithbooks.blogspot.com
Rachel Smith was born and raised in a small town in Iowa. After spending a few years in the ‘big city’ she now lives with her husband and two children in Clear Lake. Working part time from home, she spends the rest of her time exercising, reading, and taking care of her family.
Tour proudly hosted by Christina at #CBBProductions
Please, Sir is now available. Four Dark, Delicious BDSM Romances by New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Claire Thompson get all 4 books for only $0.99
Title: Please Sir Author: Claire Thompson Genre: Dark BDSM Romance Release Date: November 24, 2015 Tour Host: DRC Promotions
BlurbFour power-packed, sensual and intense BDSM romances from award-winning, bestselling novelist Claire Thompson. Accidental Slave - An accidental slave, a romantic Dom, the slow, sensual burn of a D/s love affair. The Auction - Naked, bound and in chains, at the mercy of the man who purchased her—body and soul—for the next thirty days. Dare to Dominate - Sparks ignite into passionate fire between a free-spirited submissive and a conflicted Master with dominant dreams of enslavement and control. Heart of Submission - When Kate attends a BDSM intensive, she falls too far, too fast, into an erotic submission that threatens to blow her world apart. Somehow she must find her way to the heart of submission.
Buy Please, Sir for only $0.99
I've been writing for nearly two decades, and have published over 60 novels. I write BDSM romance and non-con abduction tales, spanning both m/f and m/m genres. My love affair is with all things D/s (Dominance/submission). My work began as a romantic exploration of the BDSM life style, and then veered somewhat to the darker side of fantasy. I love delving into the dark psyche of a twisted mind, and gaining insight into what might motivate such a person to do what they do. I don't create all black and white villains and heroes, but rather strive to develop real, complex and flawed human beings. I don't want to simply provide an erotic thrill or evocative description. I seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving exchange of power. My darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism. Ultimately my work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.
Connect with Claire
Brought to you by
Title: Stemming from Secrets
Series: Ninety-Nine Roses Series: Book Two
Author: Mareta L. Miller
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 12, 2015
When two people who are broken, one by deceit and the other by a tragic loss, find each other, it’s nothing short of amazing. They also find that the second chance they may have never thought they wanted brought them the person that they now can’t bear to be without.
But with Julia’s past comes secrets that she has yet to share with her new love. And in the near future, Derick will have his own. Both are withholding the truth, motivated by protecting each other as well as themselves.
Now they are both left with questions and choices. Is the love they have going to be enough for them to stay together, or will that same love make them choose to let each other go?
Book two of the Ninety-Nine Roses series. Not meant to be a stand alone.
My name is Mareta L. Miller, and I’m a thirty-something-year-old Las Vegas native. Trust me when I say that growing up in Vegas, is not as awesome as it sounds. I’ve never lived in a casino and I’ve never been a stripper or a showgirl, but I have spotted Elvis no less than twice a day, my entire life. I’m just your average wife and mother of ten. Yup, I said ten, consisting of three daughters, a stepson, three puppies (because mine will never be dogs), two kitties, and a turtle.
I wish I could say I don’t have to work outside of my writing, but I do, and rectifying that fact is on the top of my “When I make it Big” list. Working the standard 40hr week, doesn’t leave much time to write, but I take advantage of every minute I have. Late nights and early mornings make for really long days, but I figure I can sleep later.
My writing, which only started a little over a year ago, has become a constant need. It's been my way to deal with fear, but also a way to create hope. Hope that real love exists and can conquer. It gives me a feeling of accomplishment and I love being able to share my stories with all of you. I hope you’ll continue to follow me on this journey because this is only my beginning. Although my wings have begun to flutter, you’ve yet to really see me fly.
Read book one now!
Telling Me With Roses