From USA Today Bestselling author Liv Morris comes a sexy standalone romcom where cocky chases sassy around the bases. Hard Luck releases on July 10th! Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/28OpxXf Meet Brady Luck... Slugger. Hot shot. MVP. I’ve been called it all. I was the real deal, baby. The diamond was my battlefield. Women were the victory celebration. My "Lucky" streak was a given. On and off the field. Then I slept with the wrong woman, And she cursed me. Literally. Turned my game upside-down, In the ballpark...and bedroom. Now my team is paying the price. My last hope is Cali Jones, A smart and sexy physician assistant. Her Midas touch may fix my swing, Repair my equipment. But will it be enough to cure my hard luck? EXCERPT: “Would it scare you if I said I was kidnapping you?” I grip the door of the cab and glanced up at the driver. He has an amused smile on his face. I'm sure he knows who shares the backseat with me. Brady is the golden boy of this city. He owns the title with every home run he hits, both on and off the baseball field. Plus, his good looks are hard to forget. God knows I’ve tried. Two weeks ago, if I had this same conversation with Brady, I would've been demanding him to take me back to his lair for a lap or two around the bases, but I met him while wearing scrubs and examining his fine body with latex-gloved hands. I can’t remove my professional hat no matter how bad he makes me want to remove my clothes. “You owe me an explanation,” I say, choosing to ignore the kidnap comment altogether. It plays straight into a dirty fantasy of being at his mercy and the last thing I need is more fantasies. “I’m taking you to my coach’s apartment a few blocks from here,” he replies, his tone nonchalant, like kidnapping a woman is normal. “Does he need medical help too?” I ask, my confusion clear in my tone. Why would he take me to his coach’s place? “Are you kidding?” Brady appears stunned by my question. I answer him with a shake of my head. “He wants to talk to you about me.” “Your coach knows me? What’s really going on here? You’ve shown up everywhere I’ve been like you’re stalking me.” Brady shifts his eyes away from me and lowers his head. “Wait! You have been, haven’t you?” I demand. “Maybe. But I have a very good reason.” He looks up with his crystal blue eyes. They twinkle at me even through the dim streetlights, as I lose myself within them. I have stupid girl thoughts that he’s fallen madly in love with me during our brief encounters, especially the one in the exam room. I glance down at his crotch in memory and swallow at the thought of all those inches, even if he would be next to impossible to fit into my mouth. “I’m waiting for a good answer.” I lock my eyes on his perfect face with lips I want to kiss. Why does he have to be so hot? “It’s complicated,” he says while running his long fingers through his glorious, thick hair. How many times have I dreamt of having his head between my legs since he joined the team? I’ve lost count. I close my eyes. I am in deep shit here. “It’s complicated on my end, too,” I reply back to his non-answer response, which frustrates the hell out of me. Sane people don’t kidnap people without an explanation. Then again sane people don’t kidnap people at all. Maybe the pressure of bringing home a trophy to Chicago’s rabid fans made him snap. “You’re my patient and I can’t cross the personal line with you.” No matter how hard I want to. “I’ve severed all ties with your office. I’m no longer a patient at your practice.” “Right? You’re cured now.” I peek down at the general area where his former issue was and then back up at his eyes. “Let’s say I know who can cure my problem.” “Who?” My voice is as quiet as a whisper, but from the intense look in his eyes, I know he heard me. I brace myself for his answer. “You.” “Well, shit!” About the Author USA Today bestselling author, Liv Morris, was raised in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. She now resides on the rock known as St. Croix, USVI with her first and hopefully last husband. After relocating twelve times during his corporate career, she qualifies as a professional mover. Learning to bloom where she's planted, Liv brings her moving and life experience to her writing. Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads
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Wingman rule number two: never reveal how much you want them. Lex hates Gabi. Gabi hates Lex. But, hey, at least the hate is mutual, right? All Lex has to do is survive the next few weeks training Gabi in all the ways of Wingmen Inc. and then he can be done with her. But now that they have to work together, the sexual tension and fighting is off the charts. He isn’t sure if he wants to strangle her or throw her against the nearest sturdy table and have his way with her. But Gabi has a secret, something she’s keeping from not just her best friend but her nemesis too. Lines are blurred as Lex becomes less the villain she’s always painted him to be…and starts turning into something more. Gabi has always hated the way she’s been just a little bit attracted to him—no computer-science major should have that nice of a body or look that good in glasses—but “Lex Luthor” is an evil womanizer. He’s dangerous. Gabi should stay far, far away. Then again, she’s always wanted a little danger.
Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AUI hated him. HATED him. Hate, hate, hate. I chanted the words to myself that very next morning as I stomped toward his ridiculously expensive house, next to the ridiculously nice lake, with his ridiculously loud red Mercedes parked out front. Jackass. I’d be doing society a favor if I set it on fire. Seriously. The thing was probably filled with so much bodily fluid and disease that if he got in a car accident he’d infect the entire freeway and start a citywide epidemic. I shuddered. I compartmentalized Lex into two boxes. The first box was Childhood Lex, the friend who used to hang out with Ian and me before he moved across town, never to be seen again. He used to ride with me to school, and when I was sick he gave me my own box of Kleenex—never mind that he stole it from his teacher’s desk. The point is, Childhood Lex was a keeper. Box number two? Asshole Lex, also known as the version I was walking toward. The Lex I met when I was eighteen, who momentarily stunned me speechless with his godlike beauty, had been a figment of my overactive, sad, hormone-riddled imagination. On the outside? The perfect man. With a brooding and sultry smile. Biceps the size of my head. Who gave me the distinct feeling that if I ran my hands over his buzzed hair I’d orgasm before he even touched me. Whatever. I was over it. So over it. A lot of people had stupid crushes when they were eighteen, right? Now all I saw when I looked into his stormy blue eyes was syph or the clap, and that was being generous. The dude was a walking STD and seriously tried every nerve I had. He was an ass. Plain and simple, no sugar coating. He was the type of guy who’d tell a chick that she looked fat in a dress or who refused to share the communal breadbasket. See! He couldn’t even adhere to typical manners during mealtime! Just thinking about him had me tied up in knots. Last year, when I went shopping and stupidly invited Ian along—which of course meant Lex had to come—I was told in no uncertain terms that if I would just stop drinking chocolate milk in the morning I’d be able to fit into a smaller size. He’d smiled. His dimples had deepened. He’d even crossed his arms as if to say, Look, I did you a favor, pat me on the back. Instead I had kicked him in the balls and tried to give him a black eye, clocking Ian in the face. My point? Lex. Was. The. Devil. I made a point of only hanging out with Lex when absolutely necessary, and even then I almost always had Ian as a buffer. But now that he was playing love nest with my ex-roomie, Blake? Well, I was on my own. Lex opened the door after my third aggressive knock. Black sweatpants hung low on his hips, a vintage Mariners shirt fell open around his neck, and he was wearing black-framed glasses that made his eyes more appealing than should be legal. “Sunshine,” he said, his smirk deepening as he crossed his burly arms over his chest. “Dickhead.” I smiled sweetly. “New glasses? They look thicker than last time.” “Better to see you with.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “There they are.” He reached for one of my boobs. I slapped his hand away so hard my palm stung. “Probably not the best way to treat your new male clients.” He shook his hand and turned towards the living room leaving the door wide open. Manners were completely lost on him. Gritting my teeth, I slammed the door behind me and took off my shoes because I knew if I didn’t he’d give me hell. He was a freak like that. For as much ass as he got, it was shocking how much Lysol he used around the house. His clothes were never wrinkled; everything was pristine. Even his breath. Damn him. He drank coffee like a Starbucks employee but never had coffee breath. It was almost painful, staring him in the face, knowing that everything on the outside appeared perfect—but didn’t match the inside at all, not even close! Beauty like Lex’s was dangerous and wickedly tempting, like something out of a paranormal romance novel. Sometimes, at night, when I dreamed of Lex getting hit by a car, I imagined him as a vampire roaming the streets in his favorite black sweats, shirtless, shimmering under the streetlights, just waiting for whores to line up so he could take a few bites. A pencil flew by my head. “Yo.” Lex’s eyebrows shot up. “We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to get you ready for the next two clients. Daydream about chicks on your own time.” “I’m not a lesbian.” He bit on his bottom lip, sinking back in his chair as his eyes slowly roamed from my mismatched socks all the way up to my head. “Okay, whatever you say, Gabs.” I will not commit homicide. I will not commit homicide. “You know,” I said as I tossed my purse onto the table, “it’s offensive that you assume all lesbians dress like crap.” So what? I was wearing a ratty white T-shirt and ripped jeans, and I was pretty sure I still had mascara on from the night before. It was my Lex repellant. He hated sloppiness. “Offensive.” He nodded. “Also true . . .” He used the spare pencil from behind his ear to slide my purse over to the farthest side of the table. “It wouldn’t kill you to wear something other than jeans and T-shirts, Gabs.” He sighed. “Say it with me: dresssss—” I grabbed the pencil from his hand, broke it into two pieces, and handed them back to him. “I wear dresses, just not for you. Dresses are your kryptonite, especially short black ones. I refuse to be a part of your ‘shower time.’” He snorted. “You wish.” “Yes. Every night when I go to sleep I pray for Lex to dream of me while he jerks off because yet another girl refused to follow his instructions in bed : ‘Damn it, use the manual!’” I said, using my best imitation of Lex’s voice. I’d only heard him shout instructions to a girl once, and it had scarred me for life. What the hell are you doing? Do I look like I’m satisfied? There’s a diagram! Ugh. Lex rolled his eyes. “Very funny, and the manual is there for a reason. Do you even know how many chicks get confused when I call out sexual positions? It’s like, get there faster, you know?” My feelings were torn between fascination and disgust. “So,” I changed the subject. “Let’s train, because I have about ten years worth of Organic Chem homework.” Lex sighed and held out his hand. “No.” I crossed my arms. “I don’t need help.” Okay, I needed help, desperately needed help, and Lex wasn’t just passably smart but a certified genius, at least when he applied himself. I refused to ask him to go over my homework just because Organic Chem was, to me, like reading a foreign language. He cleared his throat. I didn’t move. Finally, he stood, slowly walked over to the end of the table, and fished the chem book from my oversized purse. “What chapter?” “Lex—” “If I’m teaching you Organic Chem, at least say Professor Lex.” “Listen very closely, Lex.” I went over and jerked my book out of his hands. “I didn’t need your help last year when I almost failed biology, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now. Let’s just get this training done so I can go home and suffer in silence, alright?” “Fine.” He dropped my book against the table and then, without warning, grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me against the counter that bordered the kitchen. My butt hit the cupboard . “Up until now we’ve been helping people find their perfect match. Basically acting like a wingman so that the idiots of this world see the girl who’s been standing in front of them all along .” Why was he standing so close? Did we have to be touching? I told my body not to respond to his proximity, but Lex was magnetic, even if every part of him was evil. My brain was having trouble functioning while his large palms were pressed into the tops of my shoulders. “Okay.” I swallowed. “And now that you’re allowing guys to become clients of Wingmen Inc., I basically do the same thing. Give them confidence, help them capture the one girl who’s always seen them as the friend—or worse, who they’ve been invisible to.” “What’s that like, I wonder?” Lex still didn’t release me. “Being invisible . . . Maybe next time a dude ignores you, take notes.” And another insult. “Lex.” I huffed out a breath. “Just get on with it.” “Right.” His eyes momentarily locked on mine before he rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses were perched. It was not sexy. It wasn’t. Really. That. Sexy. “So whenever we take on a new client, we give them a list of questions, meet them in a public place, and then use the power of human emotions like jealousy and curiosity to get the other person interested. That’s where you come in. If another girl sees our client as desirable, he becomes desirable.” “That easy?” “Sort of.” Lex leaned forward. “But you can’t suck.” “Suck?” “At anything.” His lips hovered near my mouth. He was starting to freak me out. I wanted to run away, but I was pinned. “Lex, if you kiss me I will bite your tongue off. I swear.” “If I was actually kissing you”—Lex released one of my shoulders and placed a finger against my mouth—“you’d know it. This, my frumpy friend, is training.” His lips descended. They pressed against mine, then pulled back. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Gabs, you’re going to need to open your mouth a bit more. Guys are stupid. They always assume that more tongue means better kissing, when the opposite is true, but you still need to have your lips parted, not locked down like Fort Knox.” “What’s happening?” I tried to push away from him. Lex rolled his eyes. “Gabs, believe me, this is all business. You can even keep your hand on my junk the whole time.” “What!” I roared. “So you know without a doubt that nothing about you turns me on.” He grinned menacingly. “Seriously, I don’t mind.” “I do!” “Hey!” He chuckled. “I was just trying to help.” “Grabbing your penis is not the answer, Lex!” “Weird, because it so often is.” “I hate today.” “Is it the rain?” He frowned. “It’s not—” “It is.” “Stop that!” I shoved him. “Hurry up and grade my kissing skills so I can go home and study.” “Kissing, hand holding, hugging, cuddling, laughing, winking—just a few things you need to master.” He was firing off so many horrible, body-numbing words. “Just hurry up,” I grumbled in a defeated voice as I tried to block out the fact that he was a good-looking ass who offended me with every single breath he took. “Ah . . .” Lex held up his hand. “One never hurries a kiss.” “What about a passionate kiss?” “A passionate kiss isn’t hurried, it’s frenzied. Damn, don’t you know anything?” Heat swamped my cheeks. “How many guys have you kissed, Gabs?” “Plenty!” Five. I’d kissed five. “You blush down your neck when you lie.” Lex cupped my chin and then brought his lips down against mine again. “Part.” Sighing against his mouth, I relaxed my lips while his slid across. He pulled back, wearing a frown of irritation. “A bit more, Gabs. Guys want access.” I kept my eyes open. So did he. I didn’t want him assuming I was into it, which was probably his exact line of thinking. Only keeping my eyes open was an entirely raw experience, watching him watch me while I felt him. I shivered. “Cold?” That stupid smirk was back. “Frigid.” I glared, putting myself down before he had a chance to. “You read my mind.” He nodded seriously. “Now stop being a bitch, and let me teach you how to kiss.” “I know how to kiss!” I don’t know what came over me—maybe it was the need to prove myself, or possibly it was just stress over the entire situation. Needing to stay in school and hating that he was the answer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped, my hips colliding with his as I mauled his mouth with as much passion as I could conjure up, this time closing my eyes and putting everything I had into it. With a growl, Lex pushed me back against the countertop. As my butt collided with the edge, his tongue plunged into my mouth and his hands dug into my hair, pulling it free from its ponytail while he changed positions his lips demanding a punishing kiss from a different angle as his he gave my hair a harder tug back. I grasped at his T-shirt, pulling him closer and nearly falling backward into the sink. And then, just when I was in danger of losing myself to the kiss that would probably be the best kiss of my life, I bit down on his bottom lip. That move didn’t work out the way I’d planned, not at all. In my head it was smart. I’d piss him off, get him to pull back and leave me alone. It did nothing of the sort. Nothing of the sort at] all. With a hiss he pulled back, fire blazing in his eyes. For a split second that seemed to go on for an eternity, he hovered and I waited, both of us on the edge of something. He wet his lips, I mimicked the movement, and then, like a snake, he struck. His mouth fused to mine in a punishing kiss, one that bruised my mouth while imprinting its essence on my soul. Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866! You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com . FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE / NEWSLETTERCover Design by:Romantic Book AffairsBlurb
Adrianna Rossi is no stranger to the rigorous demands required of her body. Years of pain and determination make her one of the best. Olympic glory is the ultimate goal, and she'll do anything to achieve it. Even if that means leaving home to attend World Cup Academy of Gymnastics, a training center that serves one purpose—producing champions.
Kova's power and domination, coupled with Adrianna's fierce tenacity, reveal there is more for her body to learn. Every interaction can be misconstrued, but there’s no mistaking the darkening of his gaze, the lingering of his touch, or the illicit image of his bare skin pressed against hers. Integrity is on the line. One toe off the beam and their forbidden desires could ruin everything they’ve worked for, throwing it all off balance.
WARNING: This novel contains explicit content.
Expected Release:
To Be Announced
Special iBooks Pre-OrderAbout Lucia Franco
A competitive athlete for over ten years, Lucia Franco currently resides in sunny South Florida with her husband and two boys. Paranormal romance was her first love, but she has a soft spot in her heart for small-town and reunion romance stories.
When Lucia is not hard at work on her next novel, you can find her relaxing with her toes in the sand at a nearby beach. Find out more about Lucia at authorluciafranco.com. Make sure to join her newsletter to receive exclusive updates and more!
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Meet Everett (A sexy rock star) who falls for Belle (his new teacher), in this Rocker/Student/Teacher Romance. EVERYTHING IS NOW LIVE AND FREE ON KU!! Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1Sd9zD2 Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1UF88TP Music was was part of my DNA, pumping hard through my veins, resonating deep within my bones. Not surprising, considering my dad was a global rock star and my mom had the voice of a fallen angel. With my twin sister by my side in our indie-rock duo, Singed Wings, we were ready to finally see our name in lights when we opened for the hottest act to sell out stadiums – Jobu’s Rum Summer Reunion Tour. The life I’d always wanted was finally within my reach. All I had left to do was finish out my last semester of high school. But there was one problem: Ms. Sloan, the new art history teacher. The same Ms. Sloan I’d met as Belle, the sexy little pixie who’d captivated me at a New Year’s Eve concert last year. The same Ms. Sloan who’d owned nearly every one of my thoughts since that night. The same Ms. Sloan whose class I was in danger of failing. With my dream gig dangling just on the other side of that cap and gown, all of my focus should’ve been on my school work and improving my music as I prepared for my big shot to rock the world… But I never expected her to rock mine first… and to change everything. **Everything is a standalone novel. It is a spin-off from the Book Boyfriend Series.** 4 Star Review by AshleyWOW! I am still trying to wipe the smile off my face and my misty eyes clear after finishing Everything. I'll be the first to admit Erin Noelle's Book Boyfriend Series tore me to bits when I was reading it a few years ago and I was happy to see Mason and Scarlett again. Moreover I loved reading all about their broody, fantastically talented son Everett. Everett with his old soul and sexy body. Smart mind and talented hands. He is as charismatic as he is reclusive. He has his dreams in sight and everything was going smoothly until one night, one siren changed everything. Enter Belle. Everett can't seem to shake this mysterious woman from his thoughts. She comes in a small package but has all the right moves to bring Everett to his knees. Neither one was more shocked than they were when they met again. Can you say scandalous? Nothing like a little taboo romance to get the juices flowing. To say Everett is hot for teacher would be an understatement. And his persistence in going after what he wants reminds me very much of his father. But what I liked more than Everett's pursuit was seeing Belle come out of the fortress she built around herself after some less than pleasant situations in her past. Her sharp wit and sense of humor and how she expressed herself through the art that she loved so much really endeared her to me. But these two together had me smiling and trying not to swoon aloud as I read in public. Everett wanted Belle and he wasn't taking no for an answer. I loved the sweet, thoughtful gestures he used to charm himself into her life. I was ready for these two to rock away into their happily ever after, but this is Erin Noelle, I should've known better. Things came crashing down hard and fast. Both Belle and Everett were thrown about and left more confused and befuddled than ever. I just wanted to force them into a room together and have them hash it out. But I will say that I absolutely LOVED how Everett took his pain, poured it into his passion and gave its meaning a purpose. And oh my second star, that ending had me misty eyed with joy. It was (pun intended) Everything. Beautiful and poetic and just wonderfully Belle and Everett. Excerpt: “I-I-I’m Ms. Sloan,” I managed to squeak out, “the new Art History teacher here.” Staggering backward a few steps, she gaped at me in disbelief as all of the color drained from her face. “Say what?” I nodded and pointed over to my car, where the faculty parking tag hung from my rearview mirror. “Yeah, that’s my car. I was leaving for the day and realized I’d forgotten my phone upstairs,” I explained, lifting my cell up in the air. “Oh, fuck me,” she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else, and I tend to get a little overprotective when it comes to my brother, and—” “It’s okay,” I assured her, reaching out to touch her arm so she’d stop and look at me. “Seriously, no harm, no foul. We can just pretend this never happened.” Tilting her head slightly to the side, she studied me for a couple of seconds, and then a brilliant smile lit up her pretty face. “But you are her, aren’t you?” she whispered. My lack of an answer confirmed what she already knew and she started bouncing up and down on her toes, clapping excitedly. “Oh wow! This is so exciting, a forbidden romance. I knew when Everett finally did it, he’d do it big.” I wasn’t sure how to take the last part of her comment, but I chose to ignore it for the time being and focus on the first part. “No, there is nothing exciting, no romance,” I stressed. “I’m his teacher and he is my student. That’s it. Nothing more.” “Okay, Ms. Sloan. I hear ya… nothing more.” She smirked sassily, as if she didn’t believe anything I was saying. “And my lips are sealed. Promise.” She pretended like she zipped up her mouth and threw away the key then sauntered off toward a flashy silver Mercedes, waving bye to me before she lowered herself onto the driver’s seat. I peered down at the phone in my hands. 4:08. Shit. Now, I was late. By the time I found the restaurant and joined my coworkers at the bar, I wasn’t sure if the restaurant had enough tequila for the amount I needed to drink. About the AuthorErin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and three fur babies. When she’s not reading or writing romance novels, she enjoys winning at cards and board games, awkward people-watching in public places, and doing cartwheels at the most random times. She’s usually barefoot, is never without a song in her head, and currently holds the title of World’s Best Procrastinator. Her titles published include the Book Boyfriend Series, Dusk ‘Til Dawn Series, Luminous Duet, Fire on the Mountain series, and numerous standalone books that range from New Adult to Contemporary romance. Her books have been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list as well as the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100. You can follow her on Facebook @ www.facebook.com/erin.noelle.98, her blog @ www.erinnoelleauthor.com, on Twitter @authorenoelle, and on Instagram @erinnoelleauthor.
Re-Reveal! New Name! New covers!
Welcome to Briarwood Academy where love can be a little bad, a lot wicked, and sometimes twisted. FOUR RED-HOT BOOKS about the BAD, WICKED and TWISTED characters of Briarwood Academy, featuring a dirty-talking gym owner, a football player, a sexy rock star, and a British bad boy. ALL BOOKS ARE ON SALE and FREE ON Kindle Unlimited!
Very Bad Things (Book One)
ONLY $0.99 (Standalone) Amazon US: http://amzn.to/28XHrd6 Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2928nc2 Blurb Leaving behind her mansion and Jimmy Choos, Nora Blakely becomes a girl hell-bent on pushing the limits with alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex. Then she meets her soulmate, but he doesn’t want her. Sexy gym owner Leo Tate has one rule: never fall in love…until Nora shows up with her list of bad things. He resists the pull of their sizzling connection, hung up on their age difference.
Very Wicked Beginnings
(Dovey and Cuba--prequel novella) ONLY $0.99 Amazon US: http://amzn.to/298pLcW Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/28VL91T Blurb When wicked ballerina Dovey Beckham meets football star Cuba Hudson, she didn’t plan on having her heart shattered into a million pieces. He’s the bad boy with a dark past, and when he falls for Dovey, he knows she can’t be part of his future.
Very Wicked Things
(Dovey and Cuba) Amazon US: http://amzn.to/28YfFJ3 Amazon UK ONLY $0.99: http://amzn.to/28VMLsO Blurb Dovey Beckham is a ballerina from the wrong side of the tracks. Cuba "Hollywood" Hudson is a wealthy football player with fast cars and even faster girlfriends. Their passion is electric, their connection deep, but once in a lifetime kind of love doesn't come easy, especially when dirty money, past sins, and old flames come calling.
Very Twisted Things
(Standalone- Violet and Sebastian) ONLY $0.99! Amazon US: http://amzn.to/28XK6Dy Amazon UK:http://amzn.to/28VNnOS BlurbViolet St. Johns is a talented violinist hiding out in a Hollywood mansion, struggling to forget the devastation of her parent’s sudden death. Vital Rejects front man Sebastian Tate sees the elusive girl in the mansion next door playing her violin nude, and they begin an erotic game of spying. When they finally come face-to-face, sparks fly and clothes comes off. But giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s. About the Author
Wall Street Journal best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.
She's addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, and Instagram. She has a degree in English and a Master's in Education. When she's not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi. Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | Instagram
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Amazon Page:http://amzn.to/28YqMm8 VERY BAD THINGS Designer: Luminos Graphic House Photography:Michael Stokes Model: Leon Scott VERY WICKED BEGINNINGS VERY WICKED THINGS Designer: Luminos Graphic House Photography: Michael Stokes Model: Attila Toth VERY TWISTED THINGS Designer: Luminos Graphic House Photography: Michael Stokes Model: Mike Thurstson The British are HERE! DIRTY ENGLISH Amazon: http://amzn.to/1VMSen6 Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1G7I4vq Are you ready for Filthy English? Add to your TBR for a July 11th release here: http://bit.ly/28MpTlk In The Absence Of You
-- EXCERPT: AISHE I come from a family that burns with love. You wouldn’t understand unless you were one of us. I’m not just talking my father and my mother—I’m talking every one of my ancestors. It’s in our genetic build to spend all of our energy on love. Once we come of age, it strikes and blazes with a fire that eats you alive. This love is a plague that boils in my race and in my culture, and I wouldn’t know a different way unless I’d broken free and seen strangers love with milder flames. Tonight, my eyes go from the merchandise on my table to the blond-headed burst of life hopping off the stage. His gaze shimmers with amusement, a cocky lip twitching as he slaps high-fives to guys and pinches girl-cheeks on his way over. “Aishe! You got those super-tight, hot little tees with the broken heart thingy on the front? The ones the chicks dig?” he asks once he’s in front of me, Emil, the vocalist of Clown Irruption, one of the hottest alt-rock indie-bands out there. I’ve been their merch girl for a few months now. Each night, I zoom in on Emil with less and less difficulty. “Yeah. Troll picked them up this morning,” I say referring to their tour manager. “This is so cool—finally we see actual merch money,” Emil laughs out. Then he sets a hand to the table and squints at me. “You’ve done much better than your cousin. I mean, Shandor, man.” He shakes his head playfully. “He couldn’t draw dudes to the stand worth shit.” My face loosens in a smile. I send a subtle glance at Shandor, who’s busy wrapping things up on stage, coiling cables and breaking down drums. To sell T-shirts wasn’t what he burned for. Shandor was born with the plague of our people too, but he hasn’t found his beloved yet. My people, we need something to obsess over, so if it’s not a man’s love for a woman or vice versa, it’s something else, and Shandor, he loves his music. Once the band promoted him from merch guy to monitors on stage, he recommended me to fill his spot, and voilà, here I am. Shandor raises his head and stills on us, focus intent from under dark locks. He’s got a sixth sense for when guys chitchat with me. Like me, he left our traveling community years back, but the need to protect any girl of our people is so deep-rooted I doubt he ever questions it. Shandor would do everything in his power to stop any man, employer or not, from toying with his little cousin. I straighten so that I’m tall for my height. Though I’m not overly curvy, I’m lean and strong. Supposedly, I’m also fiery, a bit fierce, a bit ferocious, traits that make me who I am, traits I don’t need here in the outside world as opposed to amongst those I was born to. I intimidate most men with the stance I take right now, but I can’t intimidate Shandor. He glares, telling me without words what not to do, and next he pierces his stare into Emil’s back. Oblivious, Emil juts his index finger at the case of lukewarm beers behind me, wiggles it back and forth quickly, lips pursed in anticipation. “Hand over one of those babies, will ya?”
GIVEAWAY!
Traded in for a younger, newer model by the only man she’s ever made love to, thirty-something Candy Kavana finds herself craving human interaction of the carnal nature. Shy and sexually repressed, Candy turns to her best friend, Stacy, for advice. And what advice it is!
Candy nervously dives into sex therapy and what she discovers is more than mind-blowing sex. She discovers a side of herself she could never have dreamed existed. Now that she’s wet her whistle, she can’t get enough. Just how far is Candy willing to take her sexual exploration?
AVAILABLE ON AMAZONWhat People are Saying
"This book is every smut readers dream! It has all the basics from a real story, smug and happiness that a great book should have." ~Amazon Reviewer
"Great eye opening read. Anita Cox is a brand new author for me and I can't wait to read more. This is a relatively quick read but there is a ton of fun stuff in this book. The story is not lacking anything. You have to read this." ~Amazon Reviewer
"I cannot say enough great things about this book. The writing is excellent and witty. The story is relatable with awesome characters and great dialog. And the sex scenes are hotter than hell. I don’t like to give spoilers but just let me say if you are looking good erotica this book is for you." ~Nerd Girls Reviews
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AUDIO VERSIONABOUT THE AUTHOR
Anita Cox is a bestselling author of a growing number of novels. For over ten years, she's written contemporary, erotic, and paranormal, romances via traditional, independent, and audio publishers.
An only child born and raised in the Midwest, Anita enjoyed reading novels as a way to occupy herself and set her imagination free. That propensity blossomed into creations of her own as she began crafting novels of her own. As she matured, she began writing more adult tales and donned the pen name Anita Cox.
Anita resides in Indiana with the last teenager in her herd, a fluffy-not-fat cat named Tommy Chong, Titan the English Mastiff and the husband that helped create her creative pen name. In her free time, Anita enjoys fishing, gardening, and devouring equal portions of strong coffee and well-written novels.
Website: http://www.authoranitacox.com
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No oneâs promised tomorrow. And Chet Rhodes, the drummer of Blow Hole, is all about living for today. Sex, drugs, and rock ânâ roll ... anything to help him forget his deadly secret and keep him detached. But when he meets Hope, a bitchy brunette with sarcastic wit and a deadly right hook, his carefully constructed defenses break down. For the first time ever, he wants more than a one-night stand.
Hope Iverson holds a secret that could potentially destroy everything she's built. Hardened with a short fuse, her past has left her emotionally unavailable. That is until the charismatic drummer for Blow Hole bursts into her life. His smart mouth has the ability to make her smile, and his inked body makes her feel things sheâd rather not. But scars leave you changed, and Hope isnât sure thereâs enough of herself left to give.
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âAre you ready to get your ass kicked?â she asked over her shoulder with a grin.
She pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a black tank, and I had to swallow past the desire that rushed through me. She looked so fucking hot in only her boots, jeans, and a tiny tank. She obviously wasnât wearing a bra, but with tits like hers, she didnât have to.
My mind went back to the moment she was on stage in only her black sports bra. She was soaked. She was sexy. And for the first time in a couple of days, my cock grew hard.
âLetâs see what you got.â
I stood to the side as she sat behind my set. I didnât usually let anyone play my drums, but I trusted Hope with my babies. Iâd watched her play. I knew she knew what she was doing, and I also knew she respected her own set and would do the same with mine.
She spun the sticks between her fingers, her glassy eyes all over me as she lifted a brow in challenge.
And then she brought the sticks down and beat out a fresh rhythm Iâd never heard before. It was fast paced and strong, the percussion shaking the stage as she went crazy hitting any and every spot on my set yet still somehow making it sound amazing.
Her head fell back, and she closed her eyes as she continued to play, beating the drums unmercifully and turning me on beyond belief. Her arms moved, the small feminine muscles popping out with her movements, making the tattoos on her arms come to life.
I couldnât do this with Hope. I couldnât let myself get into her. She was turning me on more than any woman had in years. Not since my Blackbird five years earlier.
Women were a dime a dozen in my job. Hell, they were waiting just outside the venue ready and willing to let me fuck them senseless, but I was moving past that bullshit. After everything Iâd been through since we started the tour, I needed relief. But I didnât want it from just anyone.
The more I watched Hope play my drums, her arms flying and her eyes closed in ecstasyâthe realization came crashing over me.
I wanted Hope.
I wanted Hope the way Iâd wanted Blackbird for the last five years.
Watching her only intensified my craving for her.
I wasnât sure I could control myself. I was feeling better, my painkiller finally doing its job, and my head wasnât being ripped apart. I could think about more than the pain for once. I could think about Hope and how amazing sheâd feel wrapped around me.
Wet.
Hot.
Ready.
Moving from my spot, I moved toward her. Her rhythm moved through me, vibrating my core and making me feel even more alive. I didnât stop until I was standing right beside her. She kept her eyes closed; playing with so much beauty it was breathtaking.
I reached out and took a strand of her hair between my fingers, and the colors blended together when I rubbed my fingers together. Her playing came to an instant halt, and I smirked down at her when her eyes popped open, and one of her sticks fell to the ground at my feet.
Sweat dotted the top of her lip, and her cheeks were flushed with pleasure. Her expression was one of happiness and release, and I knew playing did that for her. It did the same for me, but I wanted to give her that look. I wanted to do it with my hands and my mouth ⦠my cock.
I moved closer, taking her cheeks in my palms and spending a minute looking at her. I didnât want it to be like the last time I felt this way. Unlike with my Blackbird, I took the time to remember everything about Hope.
I wanted to look at her face. I wanted to look into her eyes and see her when she came apart. It was going to be amazing. She was going to be amazing. We were going to be a match sexually. But before anything could go down between us, we would have to talk about it. I wanted to make sure she understood it would be a one-time thing.
Before I moved in, I wanted to be sure that this wouldnât affect the tour.
âWhat are you doing?â she asked.
I didnât miss the catch in her voice.
âI donât know.â
And I didnât. I didnât know where this was going or what I was doing. My body was taking control of the situation, and I was letting it happen.
I wasnât much for kissing. Iâd probably kissed a handful of women in my time, but Hopeâs pouty lips called to me. She was begging me to kiss her without even opening her mouth.
I leaned down, ready to taste her, but she placed her palm against my chest and stopped me.
âWait,â she whispered.
I shook my head. âNo, I suck at waiting.â
So I kissed her.
Hard.
She tasted like the nightâliquor and sweetness with a touch of sin. It was wrong to taste her, but Iâd never been one to follow the rules. All the boundaries Iâd set forth in regards to Hope were being crossed, but when she began to kiss me back, her tongue moving against mine, I didnât give a fuck about any limitations.
Her mouth opened, and I sucked her tongue into my mouth. Her moan vibrated through me and shot straight to my groin.
I felt her pull back, so I pressed for more, capturing her head in my hands and kissing her so deeply that I was losing myself.
My head wasnât pounding anymore, but my heart was. It was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. My blood moved through my body like a freight train, the horns whistling loudly in my ears. I hadnât felt this kind of excitement for a woman in years. Not since my Blackbird.
I couldnât stop.
I wanted more.
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Playing Patience
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Perfecting Patience
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Finding Faith
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Convincing Constance
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JX8FVKO Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00JX8FVKO BN: http://tinyurl.com/gsyag2q Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/jrmth5c iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/gs993x2 This bite-sized romance is perfect for the summer! NOW LIVE AND FREE IN KU!You and Me will become your new summer favorite! BUY LINKS: FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITEDAmazon US: http://amzn.to/28Sifmz;Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/28SdfQL;Blurb: It all started in the pouring rain. His wet shirt plastered to his hard body. My drenched hair strewn across my face. We bantered. He held the door. I found out his name. And for a half a second, I fell hard. Then the record stopped. Forget his quick wit, those biceps, and insanely disarming clear blue eyes. The sexy sonofabitch proved he’d be just another mistake. But Jackson won’t give up that easily. He's determined to show me that opposites can not only attract, they can ignite. Can he and I become an us? Or did any chance we had at a future already get washed away?ADD TO GOODREADSAbout the Author: Veronica Larsen's romance novels are angst-driven and steamy. They tend to feature strong female leads who keep their male counterparts on their toes. Veronica enjoys building intense chemistry and anticipation while creating believable, down-to-earth romances. She's an avid reader of all genres, coffee addict, and a Harry Potter fanatic.Connect with Veronica: WhiskeyAuthor: Krissy V Series: Book 1 in the Whiskey Sour series Genre: Dark Erotic Romance Release Date: August 2, 2016 Cover Design by: Steam Power Studio Hosted by 2 Girls a Book & a Glass of Wine Follow Whiskey’s harrowing story, as she embarks on her own journey to become the ‘Owner’ and namesake of ‘Whiskey Sour’ When Whiskey runs away from home, she has no idea what her future holds. She experiences things that only nightmares are made of. Fed up of running away from everything, she decides to stand up and be counted. Her philosophy is ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!’ Whiskey Sour is her salvation and it too, becomes a haven for women who like her, needed rescuing from their tragic pasts. Whiskey soon becomes not only a mentor, but a trusted confidant to her burlesque protégés... Sawyer Callahan meets Whiskey one night... That’s all it takes for him to fall for this sassy, beautiful, sexy woman. What lengths will he go to to find her?Will he find her in time? ...And, will she want him if he does? WARNING: Due to sexual situations and adult content, this dark romance thriller series is not intended for readers under the age of 18, and anyone who is unable to read books containing, kidnapping, murder, rape, and extreme abuse. **Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30283760-whiskeyfrom_search=true&search_version=service Pre-Order LinksAmazon US Amazon UKKobo iTunes BNClick to view teaserHere's a Taste of the Whiskey Sour SeriesThe Sweet Girls of Whiskey Sour‘Where the girls are sweet, but their dancing is not!’Whiskey Sour is an unusual place for such a diverse group of women to meet. It is a very classy burlesque club in London’s Soho! You will find the most amazing women whose dancing is sensual, sexual and beautiful. Each of them have their own style and their very own story to tell. You are invited to come along and meet each of the ‘Sweet Girls of Whiskey Sour’ and find out the journeys they have been on to become the women that they are now.WhiskeyShe comes from the school of hard knocks. She is a sassy, headstrong woman, who becomes a mentor and confidante to her burlesque dancing protégés... However, she battles with her own secrets, which she has buried forever. Fed up of running away from everything, she decides to stand up and be counted. Her philosophy is “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!” Whiskey Sour is her salvation and it soon becomes a refuge for women who need rescuing from one nightmare or another.SnowShe is an elegant, classically trained ballet dancer and has the potential to become a ‘Prima Ballerina’. After completing a World tour she finds that has been betrayed by the one person she loved the most. She starts her life all over again... After a chance meeting with Whiskey, she becomes Whiskey Sour’s favourite girl.PinkiePinkie is a self-confessed ‘Posh bit of totty’. She has her own style of dance, dress and attitude. She goes through hell with her family to find her little bit of happiness. Pinkie will turn any man on and when Whiskey sees her dancing in Whiskey Sour one night, everything changes.Betsey Betsey’s convinced she was born in the wrong decade. She spent her young life watching wartime movies, wanting to be like all the ‘beautifully chic’ leading ladies... So now she is... She is 1950’s all day … every day. It’s her life! She sees many ugly things at work, but she all she wants to do is to embrace the real her. One day she meets a young man who will change her life completely. ‘Whiskey Sour’ becomes her home, where she can finally be accepted for her quirkiness.BlueStreetwise Blue is a hip hop dancer who has come from dancing on the streets to sleazy clubs... Her brothers best friend has always protected her and one night he rescues her from an over amorous punter and changes her life. Now, she works in the safe surroundings of Whiskey Sour. She is quite young, very innocent and Whiskey sees a chance to have the family she has always wanted.ZephyrAn ‘A’ student who moves to London to study as a lawyer. She has to work to pay for her studies. While out at a club one night, Whiskey approaches her after seeing her captivating dancing. She offers Zephyr an opportunity, which changes her life … in more ways than one...RavenShe is the newest member of the Whiskey Sour troupe. She was always a dreamer and at sixteen she ran away from home to join the circus. With them she lived and breathed performing, travelling the world until tragedy strikes causing her life to change, drastically. When she is introduced to Betsey, her life starts to swing in the right direction.About Krissy VI am a mother to two young children, who in turn keep me young. I live in Dublin, Ireland but, I’m originally from South Devon in the UK. I work full time in a pharmacy and write in all my spare time: in my lunch hour, when watching TV at night and anywhere. I have always been interested in reading from a young age and then 2 years ago I was given a kindle as a present and it was the best thing that happened to me. I was able to read lots of books ever week and then I started to write reviews for all the books I read. I took this one step further and started my own facebook page – Sparkling Pink Bookshelf. I intended to upload all of my reviews for the books I read. This was purely for pleasure and then I answered a post on Facebook for someone to read for reviews and thought I had died and gone to heaven. I was reading about 7/8 books a week, the kindle made this achievable. I would read at any opportunity I could, even staying up til the small hours to finish a book. I loved it. Then one day I was asked to beta read a book – I loved this side of it, it was so exciting. I have worked with a number of indie authors and have remained loyal to a few select authors and I beta read all their After a year or more of doing this, I thought maybe I could write some of the stories that were in my head and I just decided to write and see what happened. I wrote about 70% of a story and then saw a post for the NaNoWriMo competition – to write 50,000 words in 30 days, I decided that this was a challenge I wanted to take and the Til Death Us Do Part series was born. I am always thinking of situations that can be turned into a story and have started a few stories, which in turn will be completed and released to my readers. I love to hear what my readers have to say about my work and please find my links below. Thank you for your support and I hope you enjoy this series of books as much as I enjoyed writing them.Social links:Check out other books by Krissy V on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Krissy-V/e/B00JL6XN26/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1410813041&sr=1-2-ent Author page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/For-Better-or-For-Worse-Book-1-in-Til-Death-Us-Do-Part-Series/228435653994967 Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorkrissyv Blog: http://authorkrissyv.wordpress.com/ Join Krissy V Book Group The Naughty Angels: https://www.facebook.com/groups/423474977802230/Claddagh Author Event Dublin 2016 Check out our Facebook page where you can see all the awesome authors attendinghttps://www.facebook.com/Claddagh-Author-Event-Dublin-2016-943600215659439/Buy your tickets Now. Wicked line up!! Don't miss out...http://ow.ly/XRDp6 |