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Your Echo: Sherbrooke Station, #2

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Your Echo
Katia Rose
(Sherbrooke Station, #2)
Publication date: September 12th 2018
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

How do you teach a rock star how to meditate?

The number one question on Stéphanie’s mind sounds like the start of a bad joke, and life would be a whole lot easier if she actually knew the punch line.

Her meditation coach job description said nothing about private lessons for the most infamous lead singer in Montreal, but somehow Stéphanie still finds herself sitting cross-legged on a yoga mat, right next to a pierced and tattooed music legend who’d rather be anywhere else.

Meditation classes are Ace’s final chance to convince his record label that the last bender he went on really was his last. The demons that have sent him to the bottom of countless bottles might not give a damn about ‘soothing rhythmic chanting,’ but it’s either this or game over for his career.

He’s not what she wants. She’s not what he’s looking for. Yet somewhere amidst all the incense fumes, the lines between student and teacher get blurred.

Even as their deep breathing exercises become nights filled with panting and gasps, Stéphanie can’t ignore the darkness that never quite leaves Ace’s eyes. It’s a darkness she knows far too well, and if she’s not careful, the cost of helping Ace find his way might just be losing herself.

Your Echo is part of the Sherbrooke Station Quartet, a series of steamy rock star standalones from author Katia Rose.

Goodreads / Amazon

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SNEAK PEEK:

And that’s how I end up singing ‘I’m On Fire’ in a Montreal KTV bar, stone cold sober, while people whip out their smart phones and I try not to think about all the places this video is going to end up. I just stare at Stéphanie from the raised platform that serves as a stage, watching her watch me as the rest of the crowd cheers. At first I’m only fucking around, adding an extra rasp to the words and playing up the sexuality in the lyrics to the point that it’s funny, but something changes the further I get into the song. The slow build of the synth—the tension that rises and rises but never quite breaks—catches up with me, and by the time I get to the long, wavering howls at the end, I can see Stéphanie’s chest heaving even harder than mine.

 

Author Bio:

Katia Rose is not much of a Pina Colada person, but she does like getting caught in the rain. She prefers her romance served steamy with a side of smart, and is a sucker for quirky characters. A habit of jetting off to distant countries means she’s rarely in one place for very long, but she calls the frigid northland that is Canada home.

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Daddy’s Demands: A Dirty Daddy Dom Anthology

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Daddy’s Demands: A Dirty Daddy Dom Anthology
Publication date: September 18th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance

These daddies don’t ask for obedience. They demand it.

Daddy’s Demands is a collection of decadently dirty daddy dom romances from some of the hottest authors in the genre. This deliciously naughty box set includes twenty-five brand-new, stand-alone novellas featuring steaming hot, irresistibly sexy adventures with the baddest daddies imaginable. Good girls be warned: your obedience will be demanded on September 18th.

Featured authors: Madison Faye, Renee Rose, Loki Renard, Maggie Ryan, Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley, Lee Savino, J.L. Beck, Jane Henry, Isabella Laase, Kelly Dawson, Sara Fields, Kara Kelley, Measha Stone, Amelia Smarts, Mary Wehr, Maddie Taylor, Meredith O’Reilly, Morganna Williams, Katherine Deane, Alexis Alvarez, Shelly Douglas, Sassa Daniels, Marlee Wray, and Rory Reynolds

Publisher’s Note: The stories featured in this collection all contain hot, dirty sex, sometimes involving ménage or reverse harem themes. Some include spankings, intense and humiliating punishments, and strong D/s themes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this box set.

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Connected by a Kiss: Regency Holiday Collection

by Christina McKnight

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Celebrate the Holiday Season with a collection of Regency Romances.

Available September 18th – Connected by a Kiss: Regency Holiday Collection.
Follow the tour and enter to #win a $10 Amazon Gift Card!


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Title: Connected by a Kiss: Regency Holiday Collection
Author: Christina McKnight, Amanda Mariel, Dawn Brower
Genre: Regency Romance, Holiday Romance
Release Date: September 18th, 2018

A Kiss At Christmastide by Christina McKnight
After a ruinous London season, Lady Pippa Godfrey has given up on the idea of true love–until a devilishly handsome stranger arrives at her Somerset estate, seeking shelter from a winter storm. Soon, she’s daring to claim a Christmas kiss with Lucas Hatfield, the Earl of Maddox, but when the storm abates, will he break her heart like all the rest?

How To Kiss A Rogue by Amanda Mariel
Lady Natalie’s betrothal is ended and frees her to pursue the man of her dreams. During a holiday party she discovers the lord she desires in attendance. So hatches a plan to snare him.

A Wallflower’s Christmas Kiss by Dawn Brower
An arranged betrothal has Lady Juliette Brooks seeking out her former childhood friend, the Duke of Kissinger to beg him to honor his long ago promise. Grayson Abbot has no desire to marry, but he always keeps his word. As they race to Scotland they rediscover the joy of friendship and a passion neither planned on.

Available at: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

Excerpt from A Kiss At Christmastide:
A moment of confusion clouded her mind as the laughter dimmed and a light breeze assaulted her face—as if someone had opened a window to a gusty wind.
At her side, Pippa’s mother fanned her face. Her wrist whipped to and fro, increasing as the room went silent.
Everything froze around her but her mother’s thrashing fan.
The Duchess of Midcrest, her dear mother, who’d labored for over twenty years to rise above her merchant class upbringing, would once again be embroiled in a scandal—all because of Pippa.
“Do you wish to depart?” her mother whispered.
“I did not…” Pippa stammered. “I would never…”
“I did not believe you had, my child.” Her mother sought to soften the blow—something that society had done to the current Duchess of Midcrest a hundred times over. “However, that does not change the appearance of things, no matter what we say or do in this moment.”
Pippa lifted her chin to keep her tears from streaming down her face.
“I do not understand why,” Pippa said as she leaned in close to her mother to whisper. “Lady Natalie and I are such friends.”
“Friendship and jealously often hold hands so tightly that one cannot distinguish between the pair.”

Excerpt from How To Kiss a Rogue:
Glancing from behind the fern, her stomach dropped. “Bradford,”—She came out into the open—“What are you doing here?”
“Knightly asked me to come in first.”
She released a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. Christian was here. “You cannot stay.”
“I must. It would be highly improper to leave you unchaperoned with a man we are not related to.” Bradford smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Natalie stepped up to him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and began pushing him toward the door. “Nothing untoward will happen as long as you leave now.”
Oh, why had she failed to think of a chaperone? Now Bradford had his nose squarely in the center of her scheme and he’d surely ruin everything.
A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes and he chuckled. “Nothing untoward will occur at any rate. Knightly has no wish to ruin you.”
Natalie’s face warmed and she gave another shove. “Mind your own affairs.”
“Perhaps I should tell Mother what you are about.”
“You would not dare! You cannot. Imagine what she would do, Bradford.” Natalie dropped her hands from his shoulders and gave him her best pouty look. “What do you think I am about? You act as though I am some sully maid,” She peered at him, her blood heated with angry indignation. How dare he think she was going about, carrying on trysting with men? No matter it was exactly her intended purpose…he should not assume such from her.
“Do calm yourself. Getting your skirts in a knot will change nothing.” Bradford shook his head. “We both know what you are doing here.”
She closed her eyes for a heartbeat. He was correct, she could no more lie to him than she could herself. “I beg of you, do not say a word to anyone.”
“You are quite entertaining.” He chuckled while he walked toward the door. “I will be directly outside should Knightly require my assistance.”
“You may well be the one in need.” Natalie reached for a nearby pot and flung it toward him. The projectile missed him, crashing into the floor. “You are not entertaining in the least.”
“You had better clean that mess up or Mother is certain to discover what you’ve been getting up to without my having to tell her.” His deep chuckle only increased in volume as he disappeared from the greenhouse.
She ought to have known he was teasing her. He no more wished for their parents to know his friend was secretly meeting her than she did. In retrospect, bringing Bradford along was a good plan on Christian’s part. As much as it pained her to admit it, he would ensure no one caught them alone together. Natalie released a sigh, then smoothed her skirts before Christian entered. Her heart pounded—this was her chance.
She stood still with one hip cocked to the left as he stepped into the greenhouse and approached her. “Lord Knightly, I am pleased you came.”
“You should be equally pleased that your brother was the only one to notice your note. Are you trying to get ruined?”
She swallowed at the harshness of his tone. “On the contrary, that is why I told you not to show it to anyone. Though I must confess, I am pleased Bradford came along. He will make an excellent look out.” She did her best to offer a charming smile despite her sudden nerves.
“And why would we need someone to watch out for us?” Christian leveled his penetrating stare on her.
She reached out a trembling hand and trailed the tips of her fingers across his strong jaw. Even through her gloves she felt his warmth seeping into her—imprinting on her soul. “I want a kiss. One more passionate than the one you bestowed on Lady Pippa.”

Excerpt from A Wallflower’s Christmas Kiss
Grayson sighed. She wasn’t going to be denied anything apparently. It was too late to save her from herself. Very well, he’d deal with her and then send her on her way. He turned and sucked in a breath momentarily stunned. A silhouette of pure beauty greeted him. Her midnight tresses were wound up and bound neatly into an elegant chignon. His fingers itched to unwind it and see it flow over her luscious curves. All of this and he’d still not seen her face. When she finally turned to meet his gaze he lost all ability to breathe. Those sea-green eyes kept him riveted in place. He should stand and greet her but his body refused to function. She was the last person he expected or wanted to enter his home.

“What no words?” She raised an eyebrow. “And I thought you were noted as the witty duke amongst the ton. I must say I’m rather disappointed.”

Grayson drank in the sight of her. He wanted to remember her as she stood before him for the rest of his days. She was glorious, proud, and fearless. “Didn’t your father teach you better than to enter the lion’s den?” He lifted a brow mockingly. “You could very well get eaten alive.”

Her lips tilted at the corner. “I rather like my chances.” She moved further into the room. “After all I tamed a lion before.”

“There’s a difference between a young cub, and a full grown male, Jules,” he explained. “One is more docile and willing to cuddle. The adult wants to be petted—in other ways.” He stood up and gazed directly into her eyes. “A bite can be pleasurable or….” Grayson crossed over to her side and leaned down, whispering in her ear, “painful depending on your preference.”

Juliette took a deep breath but remained where she stood. He’d give her that much. She’d always been a stubborn girl, and apparently she’d not grown out of that trait. If she didn’t take a step back soon he’d be forced to make a choice. Either he pulled her into his arms and kissed her the way he craved or he put distance between them respecting her innocence. It was a hard decision and warred deep inside him, but he did what was best for her. Turned out that some things were ingrained. Protecting her had always been his first instinct.

“If you’re done trying to intimidate me I have something I wish to discuss with you.”


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About Christina McKnight

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Christina McKnight writes emotional and intricate Regency Romance with rebellious women and maverick heroes.

Her books combine romance and mystery, exploring themes of redemption and forgiveness. When not writing she enjoys coffee, wine, traveling the world, and watching television.

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Cutie Pies and Deadly Lies

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Cutie Pies and Deadly Lies
Addison Moore
Publication date: September 13th 2018
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Romance

A HILARIOUS cozy mystery from the New York Times bestselling author Addison Moore

My name is Lottie Lemon and I see dead people.Okay, so I rarely see dead people, mostly I see creatures of the dearly departed variety, aka dead pets. And for some reason those sweet, fluffy albeit paranormal cuties always seem to act as a not-so-great harbinger of deadly things to come for their previous owner. So when I saw that sweet orange tabby twirling around my landlord’s ankles, I figured Merilee was in for trouble. Personally, I was hoping for a skinned knee—what I got was a top spot in an open homicide investigation. Throw in a hot judge and an ornery detective that oozes testosterone and that pretty much sums up my life right about now. Have I mentioned how cute that detective is?

Lottie Lemon has a bakery to tend to, a budding romance with perhaps one too many suitors and she has the supernatural ability to see dead pets—which are always harbingers for ominous things to come. Throw in the occasional ghost of the human variety, a string of murders and her insatiable thirst for justice and you’ll have more chaos than you know what to do with.

Living in the small town of Honey Hollow can be murder.

From the NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author, Addison Moore—Cosmopolitan Magazine calls Addison’s books, “…easy, frothy fun!”

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

I see dead people.

Okay, so I don’t see dead people—at least not on the regular—I see dead pets. Yes, pets. At first, I had no idea what these hologram-like beasts were up to until after an unfortunate run of something akin to trial and error that I concluded each dead pet was some sort of a harbinger for its previous owner, a very, very bad omen if you will. Sometimes I see them floating around willy-nilly in a crowd and it’s hard to decipher exactly who the bad luck is coming for. But on occasion, I see them attached firmly to the side of whoever the incoming disaster is set to strike. I’m not sure why this is my lot in life. In fact, my lot in life hasn’t been so stellar in general. My birth mother thought it was a brilliant idea to leave me on the floor of a firehouse, and that’s where a brave and thankfully curious firefighter spotted me, waddled up and squirming. It just so happens that I was adopted by that sweet man, Joseph Lemon, and his wife, Miranda, and gifted a book-loving big sister, Lainey, currently Honey Hollow’s lead librarian, as well as a feisty and shenanigan-prone younger sister, Meg, who is also known as Madge the Badge on the Las Vegas female wrestling circuit. And being that Las Vegas and all of its glittery wrestling venues are a good distance from Honey Hollow, Vermont, we don’t see her very often.

But back to that strange gift of mine, or curse as it more often than not feels like—I have zero clue where it came from or why, or even the major significance of it. A part of me has always believed that something alarmingly supernatural occurred around the time of my birth, and that’s exactly why my birth mama decided she so desperately needed to offload a seven-pound chunk of bad luck.

The very first time I put the furry-dearly-departed and outright chaos together was when I was seven and I saw the flicker of a barely-there turtle swimming next to Otis Fisher’s ear. Later that day, Otis fell from a tree and broke his arm. At the time, I wasn’t too sorry about it either. That boy had a mad hankering for pulling on my pigtails. And as fate would have it, the boy who lived to tease me, one day admitted to having a mad crush on yours truly. And post that amorous admission we dated on and off for about three years. If I thought that boy was annoying in elementary school, he outdid himself in high school. In fact, Otis—or Bear as he’s affectionately known around these parts for having once chased off a black bear before it could invade and devour an entire herd of innocent tourists who were on a leaf peeping tour—is one of the reasons I left Honey Hollow to begin. No sooner did my high school diploma cool off than I hightailed it to New York—Columbia University to be exact—where I’ve had the displeasure to ogle other people’s dead pets.

I’m quick to push what I’ve affectionately dubbed the New York Disaster out of my mind as I take a step outside of my apartment. It’s a duplex, actually, and my landlords, the Simonson sisters, live upstairs. They’re the primary reason I’m headed out on this unforgivably crisp September morning wearing my Sunday best, even though it’s smack in the middle of the week, Wednesday. Usually, I’d be happily snug in my favorite jeans, sporting my comfiest sweatshirt with my hair in a ponytail, and on my way to the Honey Pot Diner where I’m currently employed as the chief baker, not that there’s anyone baking underneath me but, hey, I like the title. Instead, I’m stuffed in a pencil skirt, two sizes too small, and a blouse that looks as if I swiped it off a mannequin at Goodwill, partially because I did. Okay, so I don’t own many Sunday clothes per se, but only because the local church is all about casual attire. They’re far more concerned with keeping your soul free from the flames than they are about your accruements, but I digress. I’m not headed to work or any holy house in the great state of Vermont. I’m headed to court—small claims court to be exact—all the way over in Ashford County.

Just as I’m about to head to my beat-up old hatchback, I spot both the aforementioned Simonson sisters at the foot of the driveway squabbling amongst themselves about who knows what—most likely me. It is me they’re hauling to court after all, and over something completely ridiculous.

It just so happens that last summer at the county fair my blueberry buckle pie won the coveted blue ribbon in its division, and it seemed as if all of Ashford County were thrilled for me, at least all of the townsfolk here in Honey Hollow. But the Simonson sisters were decidedly not enthused in the least. Sometime between the taste test and the judging, someone edited my entry to read Simple Simonson Pie and crossed out the all-important part about the blueberry buckle. Regretfully, a riot of laughter ensued, mostly from the fine, and, might I add, intuitive folk here in Honey Hollow, but I swear on all that is holy that good time only lasted about three thrilling minutes before I made the correction. Although, to hear Mora Anne and Merilee tell it, the aftermath not only bruised their egos and reputation but managed to cause a retail apocalypse down at the shop they own and run. It turns out, The Busy Bee Craft Shop was short on patrons and dollar bills alike and had a difficult time paying its rent last month, so the only logical solution they could come up with was to sue me for every last red cent.

Both sisters are dressed head to toe in long velvet coats with ruffled shirts peeking out from underneath like a couple of throwbacks from some long-forgotten steampunk era. It’s eerie the way they choose to dress alike each and every day despite the fact they’ve been on the planet for twenty-six long years—and twenty-seven respectively. I know this because I happen to be the exact same age as Merilee. We’ve all grown up together, but the way they treat me you’d think they were my bitter and scorned elders.

Merilee snarls as if she were rabid. “Well, look who’s here? If it isn’t Honey Hollow’s favorite jester who will soon be performing live in court.” Those narrow slits she calls eyes light up like cauldrons. The sisters have always held a witchy appeal to me, what with their long, dark, stringy hair and bony, long fingers. The fact they look as if they suck on lemons day and night doesn’t exactly help their plight. “Are you ready to have your bank account turned inside out?”

I scoff at the thought. If they think this is the day they hit a financial jackpot, they’d better think again. Working shifts at the Honey Pot Diner doesn’t afford me much of a bank account. The only thing in my savings at the moment is enough to cover my rent and Pancake’s Fancy Beast cat food. I’ve had Pancake now for over a year, and he officially qualifies as the greatest love of my life.

I glance over to the living room window where he’s currently monitoring the situation while licking his paw. Pancake is a butter yellow Himalayan with a rusty-tipped tail and dart of a line running between his eyes. He is a precious little angel now that he’s no longer using my leather ottoman as a scratching post and chewing down all the cables and cords he could get his hungry little paws on. The entire apartment has been cat-proofed, and Pancake hasn’t forgiven me yet.

An icy breeze picks up and the row of liquid ambers and maples that lines the street shed the first smattering of red and gold fall leaves. I steal a moment to take in the glory of nature on full display around the two wicked witches determined to make my life a living hell. Our little corner of Vermont has a habit of turning into a golden and ruby wonderland this time of year, so much so that the leaf peeping keeps the tourists coming in strong right up until winter.

Speaking of tourist traps, the Honey Hollow Apple Festival is coming up later this month, and I’ve been asked to supply the pies for the occasion. After my shift was over at the Honey Pot last night, I baked two dozen personal-sized caramel apple pies—cutie pies as I like to call them—and I need to deliver them straight to the orchard this afternoon because the owners requested a sample for their employees. My guess is they want to be sure my baking skills are up to snuff before they live to regret the decision come the day of the festival. But I guarantee they’ll far from regret it. In fact, the only thing they might regret is not ordering enough to keep up with demand. It took me weeks to perfect the right combination of caramel and spices, and I even threw in a handful of crushed walnuts into each tiny pie to give it a little crunch. But it’s that buttery caramel that steals the limelight from those golden delicious apples. It’s so smooth and creamy, my best friend Keelie and I spent an hour last night licking the bowls clean ourselves.

I can’t help but sigh over at the two beady-eyed siblings who relish my financial undoing. “I won’t be having my bank account turned in any direction this morning because there isn’t a judge on this planet who would side with—” I’m about to lay into the Simonson sisters with every colorful word in my lexicon when something akin to a flame flickers around Merilee’s ankle. For a brief and fleeting moment, I think it’s simply a stray leaf, but suddenly that flicker materializes into the clear outline of a long-lost, dearly departed orange tabby that I’m guessing once belonged to one of the shrews before me.

“Ha!” Mora Anne scoffs as she takes a step in close. “She can’t finish the sentence because she knows she’s guilty. Just admit it and whip out your checkbook. Save us all the trouble of driving to Ashford. We’re meeting with Darlene Grand this afternoon to secure a booth for the festival. We don’t have a lot of time to dilly-dally with you over a handful of change. Hand it over right now and we can all get on with our day.”

I take a moment to scowl at the surly sisters. Since when is three thousand eight hundred dollars a handful of change? And if it’s so darn piddly, why bother to sue me to begin with?

The ghostly cat twirls around Merilee’s left foot before pausing to look up at me, and I would bet my life that feisty feline just smiled. The pets I see are never skeletal or gruesomely decomposing but clear as vellum versions of themselves in their plush and fluffy prime. On the rare occasion, I do see a once-upon-a-person, but neither the pets nor the people breathe a single word to me. I’m guessing the lack of vocal cords has something to do with it. And, believe you me, I am more than grateful.

I’ve only confided my strange gift to one person, and she wasn’t family at that. Nell Sawyer is my best friend’s grandmother, and she might as well be mine. She’s been that kind to me. If my mother knew about my morbid third eye, she would tie me to a stake and light the flames just trying to usher the dark side out of me. And, well, considering the fact my mother has a way of spreading an errant word around town—you would think she were aspiring to be the biggest gossip Honey Hollow has ever seen—I’m not too sorry I’ve never broached the subject with her. But Nell seemed as understanding as she was intrigued, not one ounce of judgment spilled over from that woman. I’m not sure why I told Nell and not my sisters, or Keelie, Nell’s granddaughter and my BFF, but something about Nell’s sweet round face has the power to pull even the darkest secret from my soul.

“What’s the matter?” Merilee chides with a bony hand set over an equally bony hip. “Cat got your tongue?”

I glance down at the curious cute little kitty. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it does. I’m guessing luck is on my side today.”And not yours, I want to say. “I’ll see you ladies in court.” I bite down a smile as I give one last look to the tiny poltergeist licking its ghostly paws.

Who knows? Maybe Merilee will trip on the courthouse stairs—and if she does, I hope to see it.

Aw heck, maybe she’ll skin a knee.

 

Author Bio:

Addison Moore is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal romance. Her work has been featured in Cosmopolitan magazine. Previously she worked as a therapist on a locked psychiatric unit for nearly a decade. She resides on the West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children and two dogs where she eats too much chocolate and stays up way too late. When she’s not writing, she’s reading.

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Casino Girl: Baxter and Holt #2

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Casino Girl
Leslie Wolfe
(Baxter and Holt #2)
Publication date: August 31st 2018
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller

In Las Vegas, secrets are deadly.

Detectives Laura Baxter and Jack Holt are members of the elite: Las Vegas Metro PD, one of the toughest and most respected law enforcement agencies in the United States. In the middle of a city with two million residents and 43 million annual visitors, they’re hunting for a killer.

The girl

When a beautiful, young girl is killed in the high-roller Pleasure Pit of the exclusive Scala Casino, the news reverberates for hours among the ritzy clientele. Before taking the stage where she found her death, Crystal was last seen boarding an unmarked helicopter for a late-night flight to an unknown destination.

The money

The stakes are high at the roulette table, and the players are hot-blooded. Among them, a stone-cold killer watches, waits, and kills without leaving a single trace of evidence. Rien ne va plus but death.

The game

The name of the game is murder, and it doesn’t stop with Crystal’s demise. Anyone who threatens to expose the killer’s identity will soon find they’re being targeted.

In Las Vegas, secrets can kill.

Two mavericks make an intriguing team. Baxter and Holt trust each other with their lives, only not with their darkest secrets.

Goodreads / Amazon


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EXCERPT:

Odds

They’re called quasi-strippers.

They don’t really bare it all, like real strippers do behind the darkened glass doors of specialty adult clubs, but they aren’t exactly fully dressed either while they perform.

Crystal preferred the term exotic dancer. Five nights a week she took the small stage at the center of the high-limit blackjack tables, in the glamorous Scala Casino. Five nights a week she danced and smiled and undulated her perfect body to the rhythm of sultry songs, carefully chosen to lure the gamblers’ attention away from the cards and the ever-diminishing stacks of their chips. In the background, nothing is more Vegas than the Scala Casino floor, filled with a million noises, dazzling lights, and excess adrenaline. Nothing is more alive.

That’s where she belonged, among the glitter and the gold, the glitzy and the rich.

She wore strappy lingerie with black and gold lace accents on beige silk, designed to trick the mind’s eye into believing she was naked. Black, knee-high stiletto boots completed her attire, her black, garter-belt straps attached to them, sexy and kinky and fun. The appreciative looks she basked in that night told her she’d chosen her ensemble well. It was going to be a profitable evening.

The familiar music seemed a bit too loud, making her wince, a little dizzy. She grabbed the pole tighter, aware she was dancing out of rhythm, but knowing the customers were too far gone to notice. It was almost four in the morning, and by that time, most of them were pleasantly inebriated, high on their own excitement and maybe more, living the Vegas dream.

The only danger was that asshole, Farley, a fat, lewd pig who liked to scream at the girls, giving them a hard time for everything they did, right or wrong regardless. Two minutes of being late or changing clothes mid-shift and she’d get pulled inside the pit manager’s office for another scolding session.

But she held her head up during those moments, aware they were going to pass and even more aware they were meant to intimidate her into offering sexual favors in return for a privileged work atmosphere.

Oh, hell, no.

Not ever. Not even if the prick turned blue in the face from too much screaming, or his waiting-to-happen stroke knocked him dead right before her eyes.

But even Stan Farley was looking away that moment, focused on a newly arrived high roller who’d taken a seat at one of the blackjack tables with a view of the stage. She didn’t know that one, but judging by the way Farley fawned over him, he must’ve been someone important.

Someone rich.

Someone who didn’t care that the odds at his blackjack table were stacked higher against him, just because the table came with a view of full inviting cleavage and tight little buns.

Hers.

She felt beads of sweat bursting at the roots of her hair and forced some stale air into her lungs. Maybe the air conditioning was off, or something. The cigar smoke made it almost unbreathable, but it was an acceptable tradeoff for being allowed to work the high roller pit, not some fifty-cents-minimum roulette floor, where the tips were always Washingtons, never a Franklin and rarely a Lincoln, and not a whole lot of them to count at the end of a shift anyway.

No, she’d been lucky, and her luck had started to play in her favor about a month after she’d been hired. For that she probably had Devine to thank.

Her sweaty palms made it difficult for her to get a good grip on the shiny, chrome pole, but she managed a back hook spin and landed facing Devine. Her best friend danced some 30 feet away, on a small, elevated stage set among four, high-limit, roulette tables.

She waited until she could make eye contact with Devine and waved discreetly at her best friend. Just seeing her smile back made her feel less lonely, less vulnerable. Maybe she was going to be okay. Maybe things would work out after all.

Without realizing, she put her palm on her belly in a soft, caressing gesture, aimed to comfort the tiny sparkle of life growing inside her. She wasn’t showing a baby bump yet, but soon that would change, and with it, her entire life as she knew it.

She skipped out of rhythm again, but soon snapped out of her trance, motivated by Farley’s mean glare. She focused on her customers for a while and, within a few minutes of smiling provocatively and wiggling her rear, a crisp fifty-dollar bill landed under the thin strap of her thong, delivered by long, hairy fingers that reached lower and lingered longer than was necessary.

Sometimes she was happy the payout was 6:5 instead of 3:2 on a blackjack at the tables facing her; those jerks deserved to pay.

But she smiled at the man who’d delivered the tip and mocked a reverence without letting go of the pole. Then she let herself fall into a back bend and frowned when she saw Farley was approaching.

“What the hell is wrong with you, huh?” he snapped, after grabbing her arm and pulling her close. The music was loud, and no one could hear his words; not that anyone would care if they did. “Could you be bothered to do your job tonight? A deaf penguin has more rhythm than you.”

“I’m working it, Stan, what the hell? I haven’t taken a break in two hours.”

“The hell you are, bitch. You see those bozos? If they’re looking at their cards instead of your ass, you ain’t earning your keep.”

He let go of her arm and disappeared before she could say anything. He was a two-faced creep; with her and the other girls he showed his real charm. For all the patrons and the rest of the Scala staff, he was a perfect gentleman, always dressed in an impeccable suit and starched, white shirts, pleasantly smiling and accommodating.

She knew better than to let him get under her skin.

But her head was spinning, and she held on tight to the pole, not as part of her routine, but for much-needed balance. The music changed, and she welcomed the new beat, one of her favorites. She knew the playlist by heart; the casino had a limited supply of premixed tracks, but the customers didn’t seem to care.

Cheers erupted at the table in front of her, and one of the players lifted his arms in the air, beaming. The croupier pushed an impressive pile of chips in front of the man, and she quickly flashed her megawatt smile and made lingering eye contact. He didn’t disappoint; he picked one of the chips and sent it flying her way. She caught it gracefully, then placed it on the floor, next to the pole. Her barely-there panties weren’t made to hold casino chips.

When she looked up, she startled.

It was him. It was Paul, and he was furious, by the angle of his eyebrows, by the deep ridges flanking his mouth.

He stood right there, next to her stage, glaring at her with a loaded gaze filled with such hatred that her breath caught. He beckoned her to come closer without making a single gesture. She approached him hesitantly and crouched to bring their eyes on the same level, aware not even Farley would dare say a word. She shot a quick glance toward Devine’s stage, but she was gone, nowhere in sight.

His eyes drilled into hers, close enough she could see his dilated pupils. Without a word, he shoved a purple and white chip deep inside her bra, then grabbed the thin strap, pulling her closer to him. He said something, keeping his voice low and menacing. She couldn’t make out his words but didn’t dare to ask. She wanted to explain herself, wanted him to understand her motives, but she couldn’t find her words.

She didn’t want his money, and she didn’t deserve his anger.

When he finally let go of her strap and pushed her away, she almost fell. Her knees were shaking, and she felt the urge to sit for a moment, to catch her breath. She grabbed the pole tightly and did a clumsy back slide against the shiny surface, landing hard on her butt, then folded her legs to the side. She let her head hang low, and her long, wavy hair covered her face, hiding the fear in her eyes until it subsided a little.

Then she wrapped her hands around the pole again, planning to stand and do a pirouette, but her arms and legs felt numb, listless. She tried to breathe, but air refused to enter her lungs. Frantic, she looked around, searching for someone, anyone, who could help. Only one man was looking at her, but her desperate and silent plea was misunderstood.

The man licked his lips, arranged his crotch with a quick gesture, then looked away at another dancer.

She gasped for air a couple of times, then the bright lights of the casino seemed to dim, inviting darkness to engulf her view of the lively floor. Silence came, heavy, palpable. Against it, not even her own heart beats could be heard.

Defeated, she let go. Her body landed on the stage floor with a loud thump that no one heard. Unnoticed, a white and purple casino chip fell out of her top and rolled onto the floor, stopping under a table.

For a long moment, Farley thought the immobile pose was part of Crystal’s routine, some new dance move that she was trying. Customers really enjoyed seeing girls crawling on the stage; it made the viewers feel powerful, superior, in control. By the time Farley realized he’d been wrong, she was already gone. His chubby fingers felt for a pulse and found nothing.

Now he’d have to call the cops and close the pit. His worst nightmare.


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Q&A with Leslie Wolfe

 

  1. What is Casino Girl about?

A team of Las Vegas detectives who trust each other with their lives, only not with their deepest, darkest secrets. Together, they investigate a young girl’s murder, not realizing they are more like each other than they think they are.

  1. What would readers remember after they finish reading the book?

There’s a hidden side to every one of us, a part that only we know about, that’s important to us, and that we wish to keep a secret. That hidden side of us is what makes us who we are, what makes us great at what we do.

  1. Your writing style is fast, filled with dialogue, almost at the expense of descriptives and narratives. Why is that?

This is how human beings interact, especially when under pressure or stress. We stop paying attention to our surroundings, and focus on the task at hand. People interact with one another, talk to one another, and have feelings for one another and for everything we do. That’s what I’m focused on, rather than specifying each article of clothing someone wears, or the color of the flower vase in an office somewhere. This technique isn’t necessarily good or bad; just somewhat different from mainstream.

  1. What’s the biggest compliment you received from a fan?

It’s when readers tell me they stay up all night to finish the book, because they couldn’t put it down. That’s music to my ears J Like any other artist and entertainer, I thrive knowing that I deliver that escape into the fictional world in a grasping, addictive, and memorable way.

  1. You mentioned science, technology, psychology. How do you keep it real?

I do extensive amounts of research for my work, and I’m fascinated by what I have the opportunity to learn. Additionally, sections of my books go through a process of validation at the hands of several fantastic partners who are law enforcement officers, attorneys, scientists, doctors in medicine. In Dawn Girl, for example, there are sections that speak about using certain plant extracts and animal venoms to achieve certain goals. Despite the extensive research, my hands were shaking a little as I wrote them, metaphorically speaking, and I was relieved when my research “passed scientific review.”

In Casino Girl I had the privilege to enjoy the assistance of three fantastic friends: New York’s best criminal attorney, an expert in casino gambling who spent his entire career in Las Vegas, and the most talented fashion director I’ve ever met. I’m grateful to all of them for lending me their edge.

  1. Do you do any book signings, interviews, speaking and personal appearances? If so, when and where is the next place where your readers can see you? Where can they keep up with your personal contacts online?

Apart from social media and email interactions, I’m a veritable recluse. Email is the best and quickest way to reach me, and I was fortunate to build true friendships with readers over email. The majority of my readers ask me when’s the next book coming out, not when I’m getting out of the house, so I get the hint and keep on writing.

  1. Is Casino Girl going to be continued?

This book is the second in the Las Vegas Crime Series, and yes, a third could happen very soon. So far, this series has been very well received by the readers, and my fans have been adamant: they want more. Therefore yes, there’s more, and there will be even more, coming soon. It all starts with Las Vegas Girl.


Author Bio:

Leslie Wolfe is a bestselling author whose novels break the mold of traditional thrillers. She creates unforgettable, brilliant, strong women heroes who deliver fast-paced, satisfying suspense, backed up by extensive background research in technology and psychology.

Leslie released the first novel, Executive, in October 2011. It was very well received, including inquiries from Hollywood. Since then, Leslie published numerous novels and enjoyed growing success and recognition in the marketplace. Among Leslie’s most notable works, The Watson Girl (2017) was recognized for offering a unique insight into the mind of a serial killer and a rarely seen first person account of his actions, in a dramatic and intense procedural thriller.

A complete list of Leslie’s titles is available at http://wolfenovels.com/order.

Leslie enjoys engaging with readers every day and would love to hear from you.

• Become an insider: gain early access to previews of Leslie’s new novels.

• Email: LW@WolfeNovels.com

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / LinkedIn / Amazon

 

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Discover THE THALANIAN DYNASTY series by NYT Bestselling Author Katee Robert?

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In FOREVER THEIRS an exiled prince, his bodyguard and the woman they can’t seem to leave alone, must return home to clear his mother’s name and reclaim his crown. Fans of Laura Kaye’s THEIR’S TO TAKE or Sierra Simone’s AMERICAN QUEEN will devour this cinderella-esque ménage.


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Start reading the series for FREE! Download THEIRS FOR THE NIGHT, the novella that introduces you to Theo, Galen, and Meg for FREE at:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2M3w3A9

B&N: http://bit.ly/2Jl0k7Q

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2JxT2Bg

iTunes: https://apple.co/2LtEK1L

 Add THEIRS FOR THE NIGHT and FOREVER THEIRS to your TBR pile on Goodreads then keep reading to get a sneak peek excerpt and your chance enter the giveaway to win one of TEN (10) eBook copies of FOREVER THEIRS!

 


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Title: Forever Theirs
Author: Katee Robert
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Thriller/Menage
Release Date: September 10, 2018
Publisher: Indie
Series: The Thalanian Dynasty
Page Count: 73K
Format: Digital
ASIN: B07DP7HT14


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Synopsis:

Meg Sanders enjoyed her wild night with a prince and his bodyguard—but now she’s moving on. She has enough problems without borrowing the kind of trouble Theo brings just by being who he is. But no matter how determined she is to leave that night a fond memory, she hasn’t seen the last of Theo and Galen…

Galen Mikos’s life boils down to one goal. Keep Theo alive. But as long as Theo draws breath, he’s a threat to the powers that have taken over Thalania—and anyone they associate with runs the risk of becoming a target, too. Galen will never forgive himself if they let their selfish desire for Meg puts her in danger. But it might already be too late…

Theo Fitzcharles might be an exiled prince, but he doesn’t intend to stay that way. He’s only concerned with one thing—clearing his mother’s name and reinstating himself as Crown Prince of Thalania. There’s no room in that plan for distraction, especially when it makes him forget himself the way Meg does. But after spending one perfect night with her and his best friend, Theo has no intention of leaving her alone.

Even if it damns all three of them in the process.

Available at: 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2t3usho

B&N: http://bit.ly/2yiyKr9

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2JQap0k

iTunes: https://apple.co/2JBPRtb


Enter to win one of TEN (10) eBook copies of FOREVER THEIRS!

 

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Forever Theirs Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Katee Robert

 

This…

She wanted this. All of it. The reservations that clung to her like cobwebs from the moment she decided on this path went up in flames. Who the fuck cared what the future brought? They had right now, and right now Meg needed these two men. She needed to be with them together and separate and to be able to watch at her leisure just like she was now.

Except the feeling pounding through her blood wasn’t leisure.

It was desperation.

“Theo.” Her voice came out hoarse and broke in the middle of his name so she swallowed and tried again. “Theo, please.”

He rolled onto his side and ran a hand down Galen’s chest. Galen stretched into the touch, a giant wolf of a man. “She said please.”

“It was such a nice please, too.” Theo grinned, his blue eyes hot on her. “Apparently she liked the show.”

“Mmmm.” A word that meant everything and nothing.

Theo gave a stretch of his own and rolled off the bed. He offered Galen a hand and hauled him to his feet. “You’ve held on this long, princess. Hold on a bit longer.” And then the bastard walked into the bathroom. Seconds later, the shower turned on.

Galen stared after him and then spun on his heel and stalked toward her. She lost sight of him as he moved behind her, and Meg forced herself not to try to twist to follow his movement. It wouldn’t work and she’d look like an idiot. She couldn’t stop the shivers of need racking her body, though.

“Desperate little mouse.” And then his voice was in her ear, its vibrations drawing her nipples to hard peaks. He ducked under her arm and sat on the edge of the bed. “Spread.”

Meg nearly sagged in relief and then scrambled to obey. She spread her legs wide, fighting to keep from cursing him for taking so long to touch her.

He saw it, though. Of course he did. He reached down and pushed his middle finger into her, cupping her pussy with his big hand. “Do. Not. Move.”

She bit her bottom lip, half sure she’d taste blood. Her need pulsed through her like a live thing, demanding she take this pleasure and grind against his palm until she orgasmed. She was so turned on, it would take a grand total of five second and it would all be over.

Galen’s lips twitched. “Good girl.” He withdrew slowly and pumped his finger back into her. “You like this.”

“Yes.” She vibrated with the need to move, pleasure dancing closer with each drag of the pad of his finger over the spot deep inside her. “Galen, I’m—”

“Don’t you dare come,” his voice lashed her, sharp enough to fight back the budding orgasm. “You take what we give you, mouse, and you don’t have permission to come.”

It took her three tries to find her words. “I don’t think I’m into BDSM.”

“BDSM?” He smirked. “Baby, this isn’t even close. You broke the rules, and that deserves a punishment.” He kept fucking her slowly with his finger, his forbidding gaze daring her to break his command. “Do you feel contrite, mouse?”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Galen, please, I’m so close, please.”

His expression softened and, for one eternal heartbeat, she thought he would be merciful. “No.” He gave her one last pump and withdrew. Holding her gaze, he lifted his hand and sucked his middle finger into his mouth, tasting her. She moaned, a desperate animal sound that Meg couldn’t have controlled if she’d tried—and she didn’t even think to try.

“Mmmm.” He looked down his body, and she followed his gaze to where his cock was hard once more. “How close are you to coming, mouse?”

“Close,” she whispered.

He stood and pressed a devastatingly soft kiss to her mouth. “Good.” Galen sifted gentle fingers through her hair, his dark eyes unforgiving. “Next time you get off to the idea of me watching you while you fuck Theo, you better make damn sure I’m in the room.” He brushed his lips against her forehead. “I’m going into that shower and I’m going to brace Theo against the wall, and then I’m going take his ass. He always loses his mind when I hit the right spot, and you’ll hear him moaning though you won’t get the same show you did just now.”

Her throat tried to close and her eyes burned. “Galen, I’m sorry.”

There it was again, that softening that hit her like a sucker punch. He smoothed her hair back. “I’m not. I’m just as much of a selfish bastard as Theo is, and I’m not sorry that he reeled you back in and that you’re stuck with us for the time being.” He gave her a slow smile that held a hint of meanness despite looking at her like he wanted to devour her whole. “But I’m a spiteful asshole and so, fuck yeah, I’m going to punish your pretty pussy until you’re begging for mercy, and we’re all three of us going to enjoy every minute of it.” He laughed, low and sinful. “Well, I’m going to enjoy every minute of it. You’re going to stand here and suffer a little bit longer before you earn that reward of yours.”

He dropped to his knees, hitched her right leg over his shoulder and then his mouth was on her, fucking her pussy the same way he’d fucked her with his finger. Warm and wet and wanton, moving up to tongue her clit in deliciously slow circles designed to make her loose her mind.

He told her not to come.

Meg bit her bottom lip again, harder this time, fighting against that slow slide toward oblivion. She couldn’t help it. It was too good and on the heels of his harsh words, too damn forbidden. Her hands flailing in the cuffs, grasping at air as her knees went out, and then Galen was holding her weight, lifting her to his mouth to get better access.

Oh god, she was going to orgasm.

She writhed, planting her free foot against his shoulder and kicked, wrenching him away from her. He hit the bed and the bastard had a shit-eating grin on his face. He swiped a thumb across his bottom lip. “Good girl.”

He ducked back under her arm and gave her ass a stinging slap. And then he was gone, disappearing after Theo into the bathroom. Several long minutes later, low moans echoed through the space, proof that Galen was as good as his word.

Meg sagged in her cuffs. She closed her eyes, her pussy pulsing in time with her racing heart, her body crying from adverted pleasure. She should hate them. She should scream and fight and curse until they let her down so she could suffer the rest of her humiliation in peace.

And yet…

She shivered, the faint sound of flesh meeting flesh coming from the bathroom. Of Galen fucking Theo. She could see it perfectly in her mind, exactly as he’d described. Theo’s hands braced on the wall, Galen’s on Theo. His big cock disappearing into Theo’s ass with each savage thrust. Meg moaned and her hips moved of their own volition, seeking friction, practically humping the air with her need.

The shower turned off.

She opened her eyes as, seconds later, Theo and Galen strode back into the room. Galen took up a nearly identical position as he’d been in when she walked into the room, against the head of the bed, one hand tucked casually behind his head. The only difference was that he was gloriously naked now. Theo moved behind her, a presence she felt even before he stroked his hands over her body, along her sides up to cup her breasts and then back down to her hips, one dipping to explore her pussy. “Poor Meg. Aching and empty and teased until pleasure becomes pain. You’ve suffered admirably, and you’ve followed our Galen’s orders so sweetly.” His thumb brushed her clit and he pressed his body against her back. “Are you ready for your reward, princess?”

 

 


Other books in The Thalanian Dynasty series

 Theirs for the Night

THEIRS FOR THE NIGHT is a novella. Theo, Galen, and Meg’s story continues in the novel FOREVER THEIRS.

Download at:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2M3w3A9

B&N: http://bit.ly/2Jl0k7Q

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2JxT2Bg

iTunes: https://apple.co/2LtEK1L


About Katee Robert

KateeRobert

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title, The Marriage Contract, was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.”  When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

Connect with Katee at: Website | Facebook | Twitter| GoodReads | Instagram | BookBub

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Bound by the Christmastide Moon by Christina McKnight

by Christina McKnight

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A man trying to escape from the past, needs a woman who can see the future.

Available September 11th – Holiday Paranormal Regency Romance, Bound by the Christmastide Moon by Christina McKnight.


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Title: Bound by the Christmastide Room
Author: Christina McKnight
Genre: Historical Paranormal Romance, Holiday, Regency
Release Date: September 11, 2018

A MAN TRYING TO ESCAPE FROM THE PAST…
When Silas Anson inherits the earldom of Lichfield from a father he never knew, he has one goal: protect his siblings. To do so, he’ll need to do two things: replenish the estate’s depleted coffers, and gain the support of his powerful family—even though they betrayed his mother years ago. An arranged marriage with the daughter of the Marquess of Blandford will accomplish both of these objectives, while giving him a chance at a normal, happy life.
NEEDS A WOMAN WHO CAN SEE THE FUTURE.
Except Lady Mallory Hughes isn’t the normal debutante he expects. Along with a large dowry, she’s inherited her family’s gift for predicting the future. For years, her family has kept her hidden away from society, for fear she will bring the family shame. If she is ever to have a chance at an independent existence—and love—she must get through this week without alerting Silas about her visions. But when Mallory touches Silas, she sees his death.
With Silas’s life on the line, how can Mallory save him without revealing her gift, and risking their chance at a future together?

Available at: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks | GooglePlay


Excerpt from Bound by the Christmastide Moon:
“Are you certain you do not wish to freshen up before meeting with Lord Lichfield?” Hettie did her utmost to keep up with Mallory as she departed the dining hall. “Mayhap change your gown or have Miss Felicity’s maid re-pin your hair?”
Mallory paused, her aunt colliding with her shoulder at the sudden stop.
She’d dressed that day as she did each morn. The gown she wore had been specifically packed because it highlighted her ample curves and hid her not-so-narrow waist. The ribbon woven through her long, brown curls was of a deep plum that complemented her grey gown. Her shoes were half-boots, sturdy enough for a walk about Tetbery Estate. Except for the ink marring her hand, Mallory appeared as she always did.
Poised. Modest. Genteel.
Everything the daughter of a marquess was raised to be.
That she was anything but poised on the inside was of no consequence, so long as she did her utmost to keep those around her blissfully unaware.
Her talent as an oracle—or a clairvoyant—did not define Mallory. In fact, she was determined to prove her family wrong and live a normal life. That she’d need refrain from touching others—and most objects—did not deter her from believing a normal life could be hers.
“I need not freshen anything. If my simple frock and daily coiffure is not to Lord Lichfield’s liking, then imagine if he learned of my talents.”
“You are not to speak of it,” Hettie hissed. “Your father would—“
“My father would die of apoplexy if I embarrassed him in any way,” Mallory finished. “Think you I am opposed to this match? I assure you, I do.”
Mallory squared her shoulders and marched into the foyer, pausing only to allow the butler to open the parlor door and announce their arrival.
“Lady Henrietta Hughes and Lady Mallory Hughes,” Tolsworth proclaimed, giving Mallory a reassuring nod as she swept past him and into the room.
She was vaguely aware of her aunt entering the parlor behind her and the butler pulling the door closed after stating tea would arrive with all due haste; however, Mallory stood rooted to the spot.
She hadn’t thought about what Lord Lichfield would look like, nor considered his age when she’d been told of the potential match. He could have been plagued with a hunched back or vertically challenged, but she hadn’t questioned that.
The man who stood to greet them was not what she’d envisioned in an arranged marriage.
He was not stout or rounded. He was in possession of all his extremities. And he certainly was not of an age past his prime.
Lord Lichfield did, however, tower over both Mallory and Hettie.
The earl’s shoulders were broad enough to pull a cart or roll a boulder up a hill.
And he was handsome. Not in the tradition English sense with a sharp nose, angular jaw, and rigid stance. No, it was far more—yet far less—what her brethren in muslin considered a dashing man.
He had a sophisticated air about him. As if he had seen things, experienced things, Mallory could only guess at.
His clenched jaw, and his clear blue eyes cascading over her, made Mallory wish she’d donned a gown that didn’t constrict her breathing in such a manner, as she found it exceedingly difficult to gain a proper breath.
Her stomach fluttered—actually fluttered as he gazed upon her.
A single black curl fell over one eye, and he pushed it back before turning his attention to Aunt Hettie.
“Heaven’s above,” Hettie hissed in her ear.


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9/10/18

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About Christina McKnight

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Christina McKnight writes emotional and intricate Regency Romance with rebellious women and maverick heroes.

Her books combine romance and mystery, exploring themes of redemption and forgiveness. When not writing she enjoys coffee, wine, traveling the world, and watching television.

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Release Day Blitz for Anna Harrington’s HOW THE EARL ENTICES!

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Join us in the celebration for the release of Anna Harrington’s HOW THE EARL ENTICES! We are thrilled to have you with us for the Release Blitz celebration!

HOW THE EARL ENTICES is the fourth installment in her wildly popular, Capturing the Carlisles series! Don’t wait and jump into this spicy yet humorous Regency romance! Plus, enter to win the first three books from the Carlisle series!

 


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Title: How the Earl Entices
Author: Anna Harrington
Release Date: September 11, 2018
Publisher: Self-published
Series: Capturing the Carlisles #4
Genres: Regency Romance
Word Count: 95K
Format: print and digital

Synopsis:

 WHEN OLD DECEPTIONS …

Ross Carlisle, Earl of Spalding, has dedicated his life to serving his country. When he discovers secrets that could endanger England, he’s forced into an impossible situation—commit treason and race to London to clear his name before the crown turns against him. He’s prepared to abandon everything he possesses in order to protect England, including his life…until he crosses paths with a woman who’s keeping her own secrets.

LEAD TO NEW DESIRES

Ten years ago, Grace Alden fled London in order to protect her son, only to come face-to-face with that past when Ross collapses on her doorstep. They strike a deal—she’ll help him travel to London if he helps her reclaim her son’s inheritance. But as old deceptions turn into new desires, will they be willing to sacrifice everything they hold dear in order to protect the people they love?

BUY NOW: Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo | GooglePlay


HOW THE EARL ENTICES Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Anna Harrington

 

“Where are the documents?”

Ross Carlisle, Earl of Spalding, spat out a mouthful of blood onto the midnight-black deck of the pitching ship as the storm intensified around it. “Go to hell!”

A fist slammed into his stomach. He doubled over in gasping pain, coughing and struggling for breath, yet thankful for the pouring rain that cooled the bruises the men had already put on his ribs and face.

The two Frenchmen holding his arms jerked him up straight.

Their leader grabbed him by the hair and yanked back his head. “You are a murderer and a traitor. No one will care what happens to you.”

Ross gritted his teeth against the pain.

“So I will ask you one more time before I cut off your kneecaps,” the thug threatened in street French, having to yell even at such close range to be heard over the wind and driving rain. In his free hand he brandished a knife. “Where are the documents?”

Ross glared at him, refusing to answer.

So it all came to this…a decade serving the crown as a soldier and diplomat, an unblemished reputation without a hint of scandal, more recently a dangerous pursuit in which recognition would never have been possible—only to end ingloriously on a fishing boat being tossed about on the Channel.

He’d been running for the past week, fleeing for his life from Paris to the coast with hired henchmen on his heels. First on horseback, then on foot, changing identities as easily as other men change clothes. But he’d been unable to throw them off his trail, and always they’d been less than a day behind. Then a handful of hours. By the time he’d reached Calais and found a captain brave enough to take him across the Channel in this storm, they’d caught him. In a matter of minutes he’d be dead.

And damn the world that the last person he thought about was Christopher! Not one of his French mistresses, not one of his first loves as a boy, not even his mother—but his brother. How the last thing Ross did in life was prove Kit right, that eventually he’d be discovered and that even his post at the Court of St James’s wouldn’t be able to save him.

The Frenchman released his hair and stepped back, struggling to keep his footing on the wet, rolling deck. With a menacing gleam in his eyes, he lowered the knife toward Ross’s legs. “Where are the papers?”

The knife tip sliced across his left thigh and through the rough work trousers he’d donned in his last attempt to hide, biting into the flesh beneath. Ross sucked in a pain-filled gasp through clenched teeth and bit back an ironic laugh—his left thigh.

The boat rose on the swell of a wave, then dropped with enough force that the men holding his arms wobbled to keep their balance. His interrogator stumbled backward—

Now.

Ross lunged toward the closest railing, tearing his arm free of the man on his right and catching the one on his left off-balance. He lowered his shoulder and rammed it into the man’s chest to push past. All went dark as he tumbled over the railing and into the black sea below.

 


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A signed copy of the first three books in the Capturing the Carlisles series – IF THE DUKE DEMANDS, WHEN THE SCOUNDREL SINS, and AS THE DEVIL DARES.

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About Anna Harrington:

 

I fell in love with historical romances—and all those dashing Regency heroes!—while living in London, where I studied literature and theatre. I love to travel, fly airplanes, and hike, and when I’m not busy writing, I can usually be found in my garden, tending to my roses. I love to hear from readers and can be reached at anna@annaharringtonbooks.com or follow me on all my social media. And be sure to sign up for my newsletter to be the first to receive exciting news, enter contests, access exclusive content, and more!

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The Demon Always Wins

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In Golden Heart® winner Jeanne Oates Estridge’s The Demon Always Wins, sparks fly upward when fallen angel Belial comes to Earth on a mission to corrupt God’s favorite. But when widowed nurse Dara Strong instantly recognizes the demon-in-doctor-disguise for the fiend he is, she kicks him out of her clinic. Hell’s most successful soul-stealer won’t give up so easily though. As the battle between these cosmically well-matched opponents escalates, they will learn that sometimes you have to go through Hell to claim your Heaven.


About The Demon Always Wins:

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Title: The Demon Always Wins
Author: Jeanne Oates Estridge
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: September 4, 2018
Publisher: Jeanne Oates Estridge
Series: Touched by a Demon
Format: Digital eBook
Digital ISBN: 9781949451009
Print on Demand ISBN: 9781949451016


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Synopsis:

Seven short weeks. After beating his boss at the poker table, ambitious demon Belial must appease Satan, so he takes on a new bet. If he can get God’s champion to curse God, aloud and in public, within the agreed timeframe, Hell gains another soul and Belial earns a coveted promotion to chief executive demon—second only to Satan himself. The demon always wins, but this time the deck may be stacked against him.

Seven long weeks. Widowed nurse Dara Strong is the ace up God’s sleeve. The granddaughter of famous demon fighters, Dara has no problem recognizing Belial as Dr. Ben Lyle. When the demon in doctor’s disguise he appears in her clinic, she kicks him out the door. If she can hold out against the alluring demon till the wager expires, Dara will be safe—but she already has plenty of reason to curse God, and Belial, the most successful soul-stealer in the history of Hell, is not about to give up easily.

Belial may look heavenly, but his soul belongs to Satan. As the battle between these cosmically well-matched opponents escalates, conflict breeds passion and passion transforms into love. Caught between a victory-hungry Satan and an unforgiving God, Belial and Dara discover there may be only one way to ransom the soul of a fallen angel: sometimes you have to go through Hell to claim your Heaven.

Add to your TBR list:  Goodreads

Available:  Amazon


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Excerpt:

Copyright© 2018 THE DEMON ALWAYS WINS

Jeanne Oates Estridge

Dara Strong slid her credit card through the reader and waited for the gas pump to authorize her purchase. In the darkness beyond the concrete apron, crickets called sleepily from the grass.

The air was heavy with moisture and mid-September pollen. Her hay fever had gotten so bad earlier she’d taken an antihistamine, leaving her a little fuzzy-headed. On the plus side, she could smell ocean in the warm, damp air tonight.

The gas pump dinged, almost drowned out by the thunder of an approaching motorcycle. It was a Ducati, all black except for the gleaming chrome. The rider, too, was dressed in black—black t-shirt, black jeans, black boots with chains around the heels, black helmet. Even though it was night, he wore his tinted visor down. She didn’t usually feel threatened by bikers—most people who owned machines as expensive as this one were lawyers or accountants—but something about the shadowy figure sent a shiver down her spine.

His t-shirt outlined every muscle in his torso. He kicked the stand down and leaned the bike on it, slinging his leg over the saddle in a move that was almost balletic in its grace. His body was so flawless it didn’t seem quite human. Without raising his visor, he tugged a leather wallet from his back pocket—no mean feat, given how snug his jeans were—and slid his credit card through the reader.

He unscrewed the gas cap and pushed the button for high-octane fuel. Black fingerless gloves covered his hands, but his forearms were muscular and scattered with dark hair. He lifted the nozzle from its holder and thrust it into the gas tank. Low in her belly, something clenched.

She stared at his hands. The tautness in her belly intensified and a languor swept over her limbs. What would it be like to share a night of love with a handsome stranger, a night without responsibility or regret?

She gave herself a shake. She didn’t know what that would be like, but she knew what it wasn’t like: her. She didn’t even date, much less share nights of passion with anonymous strangers.

It was impossible to see through his visor to tell what he was thinking, or even what he was looking at, but she knew his gaze was trained on her. Beneath his helmet, his throat was like a bronze column. He might have been an alien, come to Earth as a scout for an aggressive race.

The featureless visor remained fixed on her, and, although he didn’t move, she felt him willing her closer. Come to me, he seemed to say. Let me show you pleasure beyond your wildest fantasies.

He held out a black-gloved hand and flexed his fingers. Come to me. This time, the command was unmistakable. She took a step toward him. The smell of gasoline and ocean faded away, replaced by the fragrance of petrichor—the smell of rain as it strikes hot cement—fresh and sweet, but with a faint undertone of sulfur. In the back of her mind, an alarm clanged. That smell meant something, something perilous, but she couldn’t recall just what. His scent wound around her like the tendrils of a vine, drawing her to him. She took another step.


Rafflecopter for The Demon Always Wins Blog Tour Giveaway:

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About Jeanne Oates Estridge:

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Jeanne Oates Estridge wrote her first short story in third grade, a tale of birth-control-challenged bunnies who named their children in alphabetical order—Alice, Benjamin, Cathy, Dexter—all the way down to baby Zachary. Later that year, when given an assignment to depict what she wanted to be when she grew up, Jeanne drew herself in a floor-length, crayon-blue dress, sitting at a typewriter.

Life has a way of handing us detours, though, and Jeanne wound up earning her degree, and her living, as a computer analyst. She continued to write at night and on weekends, but she could never quite manage to write anything that satisfied her.

But she didn’t give up. In 2012, she returned to college to earn a Master’s Certificate in Creative Writing at the Nora Roberts’ School of Romance Writing at McDaniel College. Working under the mentorship of NYT Bestseller and former high school English teacher Jenny Crusie, Jeanne wrote a paranormal romance that went on to win the 2015 RWA® Golden Heart®.

The Demon Always Wins, the first book of her Touched by a Demon trilogy of paranormal romances, will debut in September 2018.

Connect with Jeanne:  Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  |  Amazon  |  BookBub

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Scandalous: Alpha Bodyguard by Sybil Bartel

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Scandalous
Sybil Bartel
(Alpha Bodyguard #1)
Publication date: September 10th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Bodyguard.

Babysitter.

Chauffeur.

Not what the hell I thought I’d be doing with my life.

Especially not for a spoiled Hollywood actress on location in Miami Beach. But triple pay and carrying a gun had its advantages. I’d shove away paparazzi and screaming fans for a lot less. The Marines trained me to be Force Recon—intimidation and crowd control was child’s play compared to four tours. This assignment should’ve been easy money.

But the doe-eyed starlet with the perfect ass dragged me down her rabbit hole. Living for the spotlight, she leaked the perfect scandal. I warned her making headlines wasn’t in my job description, but she kept smiling for the cameras.

Now she was going to find out just how scandalous a bodyguard could be.

*SCANDALOUS is a sexy standalone book in the new Alpha Bodyguard Series!

The Alpha Bodyguard Series

SCANDALOUS – Tank’s story

MERCILESS – Collins’s story

RECKLESS – Tyler’s story

RUTHLESS – Sawyer’s story

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

“Do you like me?”

A bite halfway to my mouth, I froze for a fraction of a second. Then I chewed slowly and kept my eyes off her, because it was all part of the game. “You don’t strike me as the insecure type.” I took another bite, not knowing if I should be disappointed in her lack of confidence, or watching her for whatever game she was trying to play me with.

“This isn’t about insecurity,” she countered.

Bullshit. She was wondering why I’d said what I’d said. Horny as fuck, bored with talking, I dropped my fork and grasped her nape. Then I put my eyes on her.

She drank me up like she was starving.

Deliberately, I picked her fork up, stabbed some food and brought it to her lips. Lowering my voice, I tested her. “Open your mouth.”

For two heartbeats she stared at me.

Anticipation surged, wondering if she’d comply, but ultimately hoping she wouldn’t. I bent women. I made them cave to my commands, then I gave them the mind-blowing orgasms they wanted. But it was never a challenge. It hadn’t been for years. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been a challenge.

That alone should’ve been a warning. But add in the fact that I wanted this young-as-fuck, spoiled, hot mess of a woman to be my own personal fuck toy, and I should’ve been calling Luna to tell him to pull my ass off this assignment.

The only smart move was to disengage.

But I didn’t fucking do it.

I increased the pressure on the back of her neck, I touched the food to her lips, and I actually put fucking effort into my command. Stroking her neck, taking the threat out of my tone, I dropped my disinterested expression and let her see how goddamn much I wanted her. “Eat the food, Audrina.”

 

Author Bio:

Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.

Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…

But Seriously?

Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.

She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.

To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.

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IT BEGAN WITH A LIE by Michele Pariza Wacek

by Michele PW
Genres: Psychological Thriller, Romantic Suspense, Thriller

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IBWALTitle: It Began With A Lie
Author: Michele Pariza Wacek
Release Date: September 10, 2018
Publisher: Love-Based Publishing
Series: Secrets of Redemption #1
Genre: Psychological thriller, romantic suspense, paranormal
Page Count: 282
Synopsis:

A fresh start. That was what Becca hoped the move from New York to Redemption, Wisconsin, would be for her troubled family—a way to get her crumbling marriage back on track, and to bond with her difficult 16-year-old stepdaughter.

But instead of a new beginning, Becca is thrust into a mysterious past she barely remembers … a past that includes complications from interacting with her teenage crush, Daniel, as well as living in her aunt’s old house (aka “The Witch House,” according to locals).

But is the house really haunted? Or is there something far more sinister out to destroy them?

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It Began With a Lie a psychological thriller by Michele PW that you don’t want to miss. Years ago, something bad happened in her Aunt Charlie house that left one teen missing and Rebecca unable to remember that summer night. Now twelve years later, Rebecca is back. With the death of her Aunt Charlie, who left the house to Rebecca. But, Rebecca doesn’t feel comfortable about staying in the house, which is known in the community of Redemption, Wisconsin, as being haunted. But with nowhere left to go, Rebecca only option was to stay in the house. When night falls the house starts to awaken, and strange things begins to happen. Is Rebecca finally started to crackup or is there something sinister about the house.

It was by accident that I signed up to read this book. However, after reading this gem of a book, I am glad that I did. I have said it before I don’t like first person narrative storylines. But, again there are some authors that spins a great tale that the story just pulls you in, and by then you don’t mind what narration the story is being told in.

It Began With a Lie, was fast-paced and most certainly a keeper, a must read, will have you wanting to find out what happens next. Only thing I didn’t like is I will have to wait until November to read more about this small town of Redemption and hopefully find out the mystery behind what happened that night twelve years ago.

 


 

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IT BEGAN WITH A LIE Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Michele PW

 Chrissy gave me a withering look as she furiously pounded on her iPhone. I opened my mouth to say something—I had no idea what … something to bridge the gap that yawned between us—but Mia’s voice interrupted me. “Daniel! Look who’s here! It’s Becca!”

I closed my mouth and turned to look. A police officer was standing at the counter watching Mia fill up a to-go container with coffee. Could that be Daniel? I searched the room, but only saw only a handful of people finishing up their breakfast. It had to be him.

I looked back at the cop. Broad shoulders and dark blonde hair—Daniel. Mia glanced at me and winked. I made a face back at her.

He turned. He was older of course, but yes, it was most definitely Daniel. He wouldn’t be considered traditionally handsome—not like Stefan with his almost pretty-boy looks. Daniel’s face was too rugged, with sharp cheekbones and a crooked nose. But his lips were still full and soft, and his eyes were still the same dark blue. I found myself suddenly conscious of my appearance. I hadn’t taken a shower in two days, and I was wearing an old, faded New York Giants tee shirt. I had scraped my unruly mass of reddish, blondish, brownish hair back into a messy ponytail in preparation for a full day of cleaning and organizing. But I quickly reminded myself that I was being silly. I was a married woman, sitting with my stepdaughter, and he was engaged.

Besides, he had made it more than clear years ago he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in me.

“Becca,” he said coming over, his face friendly, but not exactly smiling. “Welcome back to Redemption.” It didn’t sound much like a welcome.

“Thanks,” I said, mostly because I couldn’t think of anything better to say. Instinctively, I reached up to smooth out my hair, since as usual, a few curly tendrils had escaped and hung in my face. “Not much has changed.”

He studied me, making me really wish I had taken an extra five minutes to jump in the shower and dig out a clean shirt. “Oh, plenty has changed.”

“Like you being a cop?”

He shrugged slightly. “Pays the bills.”

I half-smiled. “There’s lots of ways to pay the bills. If I remember right, you always seemed more interested in breaking the law than upholding it.”

“Like I said, things change.” He lifted his to-go coffee cup and took a swallow, dark blue eyes never leaving mine. “I take it you’re still painting then.”

I dropped my gaze to his chest, feeling a dull ache overwhelm me—the same pain I felt when I heard the name Becca. “As you said, things change.”

“Ah.” I waited for him to ask more questions, but instead, he changed the subject. “So, how long are you staying?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. We’ve actually moved here.”

His eyebrows raised slightly. “To Charlie’s house? You aren’t selling it?”

“Well, yes. Eventually. That’s the plan. But, at least for the foreseeable future, we’ll be living in it.” I sounded like an idiot. With some effort, I forced myself to stop talking. Why on earth did I share so much detail? How was this any of his business?

He looked like he was going to say something more but was interrupted by a loud snort. The two pant-suited women both scraped their chairs back as they stood up, glaring disgustedly at all of us before heading to the cash register.

“What’s with them?” Chrissy asked. I had forgotten she was there.

I shrugged, before remembering my manners and introducing Chrissy to Daniel. I made a point of gesturing with my left hand to flash my wedding ring.

His head tipped in a slight nod before looking back at me. “Will you be around later today? I’d like to stop by and talk to you.”

There was something in his expression that made me uneasy, but I purposefully kept my voice light. “What on earth for? I haven’t even unpacked yet. Am I already in trouble?”

The ends of his lips turned up in a slight smile, but no hint of warmth touched the intense look in his eyes. “Should you be in trouble?”

I let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Why do cops always answer a question with a question?”

“Occupational hazard. I’ll see you later.” He dipped his chin in a slight nod before walking away. I noticed he didn’t give me the slightest hint as to what he wanted to talk to me about. That sense of unease started to grow into a sense of foreboding.

About Michele PW

Michele Pariza Wacek (also known as Michele PW) taught herself to read at three years old because she so badly wanted to write fiction. As an adult, she became a professional copywriter (copywriters write promotional materials for businesses, nothing to do with protecting intellectual property or putting a copyright on something) and eventually founded a copywriting and marketing company. She grew up in Madison, Wisconsin and currently lives with her husband and dogs in the mountains of Arizona. You can reach her at MicheleParizaWacek.com. She’s published two novels, “The Stolen Twin” and “Mirror Image,” both psychological thrillers/mystery/suspense books.

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The Return Home: The Aegis Network (the SARICH BROTHERS series Book 4)

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The Return Home
Jen Talty
Publication date: September 6th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Major, Dylan Sarich, knows only one thing: Delta Force. He has dedicated his life to the Army and his country and can’t imagine doing anything else.

Until the unthinkable happens.

During a top-secret operation, Dylan is nearly sent home in a body bag with the rest of his team. With his wounds still fresh and on extended medical leave, Dylan returns to his hometown in Jupiter, Florida to heal his body. However no amount of physical therapy will destroy the demons lurking deep in Dylan’s soul.

Dr. Kinsley Maren is an expert in PTSD and brain trauma. When her neighbor comes to her, begging for help with her son, Kinsley can’t say no, especially when she meets Dylan. She’s certain she can break through the anger and help restore his confidence and mend his broken heart. Only she never expected he’d steal hers.

Goodreads / Amazon


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EXCERPT:

Dylan eased himself back in the luxurious sofa in the Vanderlins’ vast family room that had to be the size of his mother’s double-wide. He let out a long breath, wondering why he felt so bitter all of a sudden. He never went without as a kid. Sure, his parents didn’t buy him a brand-new car the day he turned sixteen, but they did teach him the value of a dollar, the importance of a good work ethic, and how to stand on his own two feet.

The Vanderlins’ had done the same, they just could also give their kids their own pool, a view of the Intracoastal and the ocean, along with fancy schools.

Well, fuck, Dylan had gone to West Point. That was quite the accomplishment, and Mia and her family weren’t a bunch of rich assholes who treated those with less like they were beneath them. They were good people who didn’t deserve Dylan’s foul mood.

“Let’s get all these munchkins in the tub,” Dylan’s mother said as she chased down Kayla, Ramey’s daughter who had the energy of the sun and tenacity of a lion protecting her cubs. The kid had no fear and a giant-size confidence in a pint-size body.

“Grandma. Get me!” Tyler, Nick’s oldest, exclaimed as he tried to catch up, but to no avail. While he also had boatloads of energy, he had a timid side to him and a soft heart, which was going to get him in trouble with the ladies.

“Do I have to take a bath with them?” Abigail said, clinging to Logan’s pant leg. “Can’t I have a shower? I’m a big girl now. Not a baby.”

Dylan bit back a smile. Nothing like listening to children try to reason with their parents.

“I’m no baby,” Kayla said, stopping dead in her tracks in the middle of the open family room, swiping her blond curls from her face.

“You’re my baby girl,” Ramey said from his spot on the floor.

Kayla rolled her eyes, pushing out a long breath.

“You’re so in trouble with that one. The female version of Ramey,” Dylan said with a laugh.

“But better looking like her mama,” Ramey said, reaching out and grabbing Kayla, tossing her to the floor and tickling her belly while she giggled.

“Daddy!” Abigail fisted her little hand and sent it crashing into his shin. “I want to take a shower.”

“You love Nana’s big tub. Now go with Grandma. Nana is setting up the big television in Mommy and Daddy’s room for you all to watch Nemo,” Logan said.

“Fine,” Abigail said, pointing her little, pudgy finger up at her father. “But only if I get popcorn.”

Dylan put his hand over his mouth, trying to wipe the smile off his face, but damn it felt good to feel lighthearted about something.

“Don’t talk sass to your father, young lady,” Mia said, coming in from the kitchen and scooping the little girl up in her arms. “I’ll help your mom.” Mia kissed Logan on the cheek. “Tequila and Leandra have the two babies upstairs. We’ll leave you boys to catch up.”

Nick waltzed in with a bottle of wine and four glasses. He held them up in the air. “I think this family has turned me into a wine snob.”

Logan took the glasses, setting them on the coffee table. “You know, that bottle doesn’t cost more than thirty dollars. My father-in-law has an entire cellar full of inexpensive wine and that’s his favorite.”

“I don’t think I ever even tried wine until you and Mia got back together.” Nick plopped himself on the sofa. “And now I think I prefer it over beer half the time.”

“It’s called being a mature grown-up,” Dylan said before he burst out laughing, then coughing as he clutched at his side. “Shit,” he muttered. “That fucking hurts.” He breathed slowly and not very deeply. The last x-ray showed his ribs were close to being healed, but not close enough.

“You okay?” Nick rested his arm on Dylan’s shoulder.

Ramey and Logan had both moved closer, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table.

“Do I look like I’m okay?”

“You’re a bigger baby than any one of those toddlers,” Ramey said in a teasing tone. “Every time you got hurt as a kid, you’d ball like a little girl.”

“That’s funny coming from you since when you thought you broke your arm, you screamed like a dying cow, and it was only a sprain.” Logan finished pouring the wine, making sure the glasses were filled and the bottle empty. “Here’s to one for all, and all for one.”

Dylan clinked his glass with each of his brothers. “I’ve got your back.”

His brothers repeated the mantra. A deafening silence filled the room. Dylan sipped his wine, his thoughts going back to his father. Images of his childhood flashed across his mind. Running and playing in the street with his brothers. His father and Logan teaching him how to swing a baseball bat. His father and Nick teaching him how to shoot a gun. And he and Ramey building a picnic table for their neighbors under the watchful eyes of their father.

But it always came back to their last fishing trip.

The last time his brothers had seen their father alive.

The next day, Dylan watched his father take his last breath.

Logan swirled his glass. “Dad hated wine.”

“But he drank it for Mom,” Nick said. “Every anniversary and every birthday, he’d bring her a bottle.”

“And daisies,” Dylan added.

“He’d harass the hell out of us for actually enjoying this bottle.” Ramey took a big swig. He enjoyed wine, but he drank it like he was doing shots. “I can hear him say, ya’ll are a bunch of wusses. Real men drink Crown.”

“God, I hate that stuff.” Logan shook his head. “I remember right before I went off to college, Dad gave me a shot. I thought I was going to puke right there.”

“I’ve got news for you,” their mother said, waltzing into the room with another bottle and a glass for herself. “He hated that shit too.”

“Such language, Mom. Really. My poor innocent ears.” Ramey held out his glass, while his mother went about filling everyone’s before snuggling on the sofa between Nick and Dylan.

“Ramey, you’re about as innocent as Logan is funny.” His mother patted Nick’s leg.

“Hey. Thanks a lot, Mom,” Nick said.

“If he hated it so much, why did he drink it?” Logan asked, rubbing his chin. “I just always remember there was a bottle in the house, and oh boy, when Grandpa came to visit, they’d stay up drinking that swill all night.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. His father loved that stuff, and it was just your dad trying to bond with him. Your dad pretty much only liked his beer.”

“You’re joking,” Dylan said, staring at his mother with his jaw gaping open. They spoke of their father often when they were all together, but their mother rarely gave up any stories other than the usual tales.

“Nope.” His mother shook her head. “So, when your grandpa died, your father decided he should at least continue with the tradition and tried to get Logan to drink that crap.”

“He gave me and Joanne a bottle of it on our wedding day,” Nick said. There had been a time when Nick couldn’t even utter his late wife’s name.

Dylan tapped his chest. His heart beating faster. He loved his family. Loved being with his brothers, but as always, shortly after he arrived, he began counting the moments until his next deployment.

Only this time, he didn’t know when that would be.

“He wanted to carry on what his father had started.”

“I read Tyler The Little Engine That Could every chance I get,” Nick said with a sigh. “Dad loved that story.”

“That he did. Almost as much as he did fishing.” His mother finished her drink and stood. “It’s nice to have all my boys in one place again.”

“It’s good to be home.” Dylan reached up and took his mother’s hand and kissed it. “I mean that.”

“I know you do. I also know the second you get the thumbs up, you’ll be in the back of a C-130 transport plane on to your next assignment.” She bent over and pressed her lips on his forehead. “But until then, I’m going to have my boys together as much as I can.”





Author Bio:

Jen Talty is an award-winning author of Romantic Suspense. Dark Water hit #10 in Barnes and Noble and her books have been in the top 50 on Amazon. Jennifer grew up in Rochester, New York. She recently retired from being a full-time hockey mom as her children hung up their skates. She and her husband still live in Rochester while her children travel globe. Jen was the co-founder of Cool Gus Publishing with NY Times Bestselling Author Bob Mayer. For more information about Jen Talty please visit: jentalty.com.

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Review and Excerpt Tour for HARD TRIGGER by S.L. Hannah!

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In HARD TRIGGER by S.L. Hannah, Victoria finds herself entwined with a lover on the opposite side of a bloody feud. Seeking revenge to stop the flow of opiates that are killing her mother—she must spill the blood of her lover’s family to do it. Fans of RUIN by CD Reiss and SIN WITH ME by JA Huss & Johnathan McClain will devour this dark and sexy enemy to lovers tale where loyalty is in the eye of the beholder.

HardTrigger20180514-digitalTitle: Hard Trigger
Author: S.L. Hannah
Release Date: August 28, 2018
Publisher: AOH Publishing
Genres: Romantic suspense
Word Count: 30K
Format: Print and digital
Synopsis:

“Your mother’s opiates are coming from Jose Herrera’s distribution network.” My pulse races as my stepfather speaks these words. Because taking on the Herreras also means taking on Diego.

Reckless, and hardened by a volatile past, Victoria does not see a future with Diego Herrera as a realistic option. As their childhood friendship ignites, they find themselves on opposite sides of a bloody feud between the two most powerful families in Mexico City. And she’s a Moreno now—brought up to be the secret weapon nobody suspected.

But Victoria can’t deny the attraction. Diego’s commanding muscles, the coarse, dark hair of his solid chest, that rugged scar above his sensuous lips…

Loyalty is in the eye of the beholder.

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Check out the trailer!

Hard Trigger – A Rogue Romance from adventures of hannah on Vimeo.


Enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card + HARD TRIGGER eBook! Plus, NINE runners-up will win a HARD TRIGGER eBook!

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HARD TRIGGER Excerpt
Copyright © 2018 S.L. Hannah

My body is spent. I want to feel him release inside of me. I want to collapse on top of him. I want to keep fucking like two animals that want to survive a wilderness that is both beautiful and vicious. Our chests heave in a unison that signals it’s not over and he starts pumping into me…
Except I’m not just an animal. I turn my head towards the end table, lean over and grab his cell phone.
“Call them off.” I shove the phone into his palms. “All of them. Tell them I’m not here. That they made a mistake.”
Still pumping into me, his eyes grow wider. “Don’t be fucking crazy. Let me walk you out of here and make everyone believe that you’ve disappeared. At least for a little while.”
He’s hitting that spot. That warm and sensitive spot that makes me second-guess every decision and every goal. That makes me curl up and want to be swept away and taken care of even though I’ve never wanted it to be part of my long-term plan because I’ve seen everything that my mother has gained and lost by…being taken care of.
He searches my face for a place to reason. “What I’m offering…they’re going to catch up to you eventually. And before you catch up to my uncle again. He’s the second-in-line to a multi-national business. You killed one of his men last night. You almost killed him. You think no one noticed? This would give…us a chance.” he pleads. Even though he doesn’t say it, it’s the same proposal that he made on our trip, except without the ring. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. I’d always been tempted.
I freeze. He’ll never know how many times I ran over the circumference of the diamond band on that night stand before I drove off, deciding on a different destiny. I knew the moment I stepped in the old Peugeot that the tread would be forever imprinted on my fingers.
“I can’t.”
The admission makes him choke on whatever he was about to say and roar in frustration, because he’s not the type of man to accept defeat.
His fingers fumble on the screen. Awkwardly he holds the cell against his ear, spitting in Spanish. He’s done what I’ve asked him to do.
He throws the phone, and then locks his forearms around my neck, leading me closer to him. His cock is still stiff, and it throbs inside of me, reminding me of why we’re even in this position.
Cursing, his lips find mine, biting, absorbing, demanding. And I reciprocate. I’m not unwilling. I never have been. Our tongues tangle as our bodies begin to move in unison again.


DSC07457bw2About S.L. Hannah:
S.L. Hannah was born in Poland, grew up in Canada, and moved to Southern California to pursue her love of single-engine airplanes. Her latest rogue romance, Hard Trigger, will be published on August 28th, 2018. Visit her online at www.slhannah.com to learn about her other books, to get updates about her new release, and to connect through social media. S.L. Hannah lives in Los Angeles, CA with her husband and garden of succulents. When she’s not writing fiction, she continues to solve the aviation problems of the world.

Follow:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter | Amazon | Pinterest | Instagram

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Michelle Hazen’s CHRISTMAS WITH THE BAND Review & Excerpt Tour

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Music legend Ava has more houses than most people have shoes, but what present is good enough for your rock star boyfriend who gives you orgasms on demand all year long? Find out in CHRISTMAS WITH THE BAND by Michelle Hazen, the final entry in her beloved Sex, Love, and Rock & Roll series. Fans of holiday romances will love this funny but heart tugging story about friendship, family, forgiveness and fitting in.

“Dark, delicious, and dripping with voice.” Katie Golding, Author of Order Up

“Hazen’s use of the frantic energy of a rock band’s tour contrasts perfectly with the slow and seductive dance this couple engages in. Readers are sure to enjoy following The Red Letters on their drama-fueled climb to fame.” RT Book Review

“Wowwwwww! This was a beautifully written, compelling, captivating read.” Books according to Abby Blog

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Title:  Christmas With The Band
Author: Michelle Hazen
Release Date: September 3, 2018
Publisher: Self-published
Series: Sex, Love, and Rock & Roll #3.5
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Page Count: 46
 
Synopsis:

 All Jax wants for Christmas is for his favorite people to get along. So when he takes Ava home for the holidays, she vows to finally make peace with his drummer. What she gets instead is a house fire, house arrest, and the kind of dinner none of them will ever forget.

This comic romp of a holiday story wraps up the world of the Sex, Love and Rock and Roll series in a red lacy bow. Click now to have Christmas with the Band!

 

Goodreads http://bit.ly/2Mcvxip

 Buy Now: Amazon | iTunes | B&N | Kobo


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Christmas With The Band Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Michelle Hazen

 

Jax pulls to the curb, and my heart beats so fast my vision goes swimmy at the edges. Oh shit, we’re already at his bandmates’ holiday party and I’m not ready yet.

I turn wide eyes to look at the over-decorated house. Somehow I never pictured Jera’s family as inflatable Santa people.

“This isn’t their place.” Jax tips my chin toward him, the callouses from his frets soothing against my skin. “Ava, I’d rather turn around right now than take you someplace where you won’t be comfortable. Especially not on Christmas Eve. Just say the word and we’ll go back to my condo.” He smiles, the tilt of it all wicked promise though his sky-colored eyes are whisper gentle: my soft place to land, always. “I’ll even Photoshop Justin Bieber’s head onto some pictures of chipmunks, the way you like.”

I laugh in spite of myself. “Okay, as awesome as that sounds, I’m not taking you away from your band family at Christmas.”

“Oh, great! Let’s get going, then.” Jax reaches for the gearshift and my stomach drops out through the floorboards of the car. I stop his hand and my eyes guiltily collide with his knowing ones. I just walked right into that bluff, damn it.

“Okay, you’re right. This was a terrible idea. Why don’t I just drop you off, I’ll go hide in your beautiful condo, and we can meet up after?” My heartbeat is like a rabid butterfly trying to escape my ribcage. Christ, I’m being such a coward right now.

It’s not like I haven’t been living knuckle to knuckle with these people for most of the year. It’s just…that was our concert tour. This is their town.

It’s Jax’s real life, and I haven’t claimed my place in it.

He starts to speak just as I say, “No, screw it. We’re going. We’re going together and it will be fun and festive, so help me God, or I will cut a bitch.”

Start from the beginning and join The Red Letters on their raise to fame!

A Cruel Kind of Beautiful (Book #1)

Buy Now: Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Google

Playing the Pauses (Book #2)

Buy Now: Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

Insatiable (Book #3)

Buy Now: Amazon | iTunes | B&N | Kobo


Enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card! Three-Runner Ups will win eBook copies of A CRUEL KIND OF BEAUTIFUL, PLAYING THE PAUSES, & INSTATIABLE!

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About Michelle Hazen:

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Michelle Hazen is a nomad with a writing problem. Years ago, she and her husband ducked out of the 9 to 5 world and moved into their truck. As a result, she wrote most of her books with solar power in odd places, including a bus in Thailand, a golf cart in a sandstorm, and a beach in Honduras. Currently, she’s addicted to The Walking Dead, hiking, and Tillamook cheese.

 

Follow Michelle:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon | Pinterest | Instagram

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Merciless by SYBIL BARTEL

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Merciless
Sybil Bartel
(Alpha Bodyguard #2)
Publication date: November 6th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Bodyguard.

Mercenary.

Gun for hire.

I didn’t care what you called it, the end result was always the same.

You paid me for a job, you got results. The Marines trained me to shoot, but life taught me to aim. Working for the best personal security firm in the business was a stepping stone. Put in my time, build the résumé, then move on. I didn’t do attachments, on any level.

Until a smoking-hot former one-night stand crossed the street in front of me, holding a kid who was my spitting image. She tried to play it off, deny he was mine. She said she didn’t remember me, right before she turned around and ran. She thought she’d made a clean escape.

But she was about to find out how merciless a bodyguard could be.

*MERCILESS is a sexy new standalone book in the Alpha Bodyguard Series.

The Alpha Bodyguard Series:

SCANDALOUS

MERCILESS

RECKLESS

RUTHLESS

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

Author Bio:

Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.

Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…

But Seriously?

Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.

She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.

To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

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Butterfly Ops

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What’s a superheroine to do when her super soldier ex turns up alive after more than fifteen years?


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Title: Butterfly Ops
Author: Jen Doyle
Series: Butterfly Ops
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy with Romantic Elements
Release Date: Sept 24, 2018
Length: 120,000 words


Blurb:
What’s a superheroine to do when her super soldier ex turns up alive after more than fifteen years?

Lyndsey doesn’t have much time to walk down memory lane before she and Ian find themselves thrown together to investigate the mysterious deaths of ten young men in the Canadian wilderness. How do such seemingly normal, healthy men’s hearts just…stop?

With the hint of an evil spirit in the wind–and a whole lot of butterflies–there’s no telling what Lyndsey and Ian are dealing with, including their own extensive baggage. Though seventeen years is a lot of life to live, there’s one thing they can’t deny: their attraction is as intense as ever. But is it just a spark that will burn itself out, or is it true love bringing them back together? When the force they’re hunting turns its sights on them, the leap of faith required far exceeds either of their powers. But worrying about their future might be premature because one wrong move and they might not make it out alive.

In Book One of the Butterfly Ops trilogy, Lyndsey and Ian reconnect fifteen years after seeing each other for what each thought was the last time. That the spark is still there is undeniable—but is it enough to get past the secrets and lies that tore them apart the first time around? With old tensions rearing their heads as new challenges arise, what at first seems to be a sure path back to trust and happiness is rockier than it seems.

Note: this is Book One in a serial trilogy. Book Two will be released in Spring 2019; Book Three will be released in early Summer 2019. Books should be read in order.

Find out more at: Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo


Excerpt:
Taking a deep breath and deciding to face her demons head on, Lyndsey whirled on her heel—and proceeded to walk directly into someone who, thank you very much, had been a little too close for comfort. Coffee and bags went flying everywhere.
Damn it. This was not at all what she needed fifteen minutes before the meeting she didn’t even want to be at. Why hadn’t she just let the cab take her all the way there?
Trying to keep her irritation contained, she accepted the napkins being offered from an outstretched hand. An outstretched hand presumably connected to the body she had knocked into, a body in such close proximity that a collision had been unavoidable. Big, solid, muscular body, by the way, all done up in Army green, medals and ribbons to boot. Not that that did much to improve her mood, of course.
She purposefully didn’t look up right away, knowing it was an accident and this person had no intention of spilling everything all over her and the sidewalk. Therefore it would do absolutely no good to say something like, ‘Haven’t you ever heard of personal space?’ Not until she could say it with a smile at least.
“I’m so sorry,” she heard the man say in a tone that seemed genuinely apologetic, as it should. “You look like someone I…”
His voice cut off abruptly.
She slowly raised her head, and…
No.
Um… No.
This couldn’t be real. Lyndsey backed away, looking into the eyes of a ghost. A six-foot-and-change, two-hundred pound, solidly-packed-in-all-the-right-places ghost. She stared at him, his face so familiar despite the lines around his eyes and mouth. His hair had a few flecks of gray in that distinguished way men’s hair did, but his arms and chest and shoulders had lost none of their definition in the time that had passed, nor had his body lost its ability to stir something deep within her. Something that hadn’t been stirred in a very long time. And despite her various issues where the Army was concerned, she certainly didn’t mind seeing him in that uniform with all its medals and ribbons. Which also reminded her of all the times seeing him out of his uniform and, well, it wasn’t exactly helping her in the thought-forming parts of the brain.
“But you’re… You’re…” she stammered.
He was dead. He’d died almost ten years ago, as far as Lyndsey knew. Beyond that, she was unable to form a coherent thought.
Well, except that Ian—Ian Fox—seemed to be right there with her, also totally incapable of speech.
“Dad, please tell me you did not make this mess.”
Lyndsey looked past Ian to see the coffee shop girl coming towards him. A girl who called Ian, ‘Dad.’ A girl who was Ian’s daughter.


Follow the first look and enter to #win a $10 Amazon Gift Card or one of five digital copies of a Jen Doyle backlist title
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Jen DoyleAuthor Bio:

A big believer in happily ever afters, Jen Doyle decided it was high time she started creating some. CALLING IT, her four-book baseball/contemporary romance/romantic comedy series, has been winning awards since its inception, the most recent being the 2017 Best Banter Contest for Calling It and a nomination for the 2017 Harlequin Hero of the Year for Called Out. She also wrote the acclaimed HANSONS OF ST. HELENA series of novellas in the St. Helena Vineyard Kindle World. Butterfly Ops: Book One is the first installment of the BUTTERFLY OPS trilogy, an epic love story and her first in the paranormal realm.

Jen has an M.S. in Library and Information Science and, in addition to her work as a librarian, has worked as a conference and events planner as well as an administrator in both preschool and higher education environments (although some might say that there is very little difference between the two; Jen has no comment regarding whether she is one of the “some”). She is a member of the Romance Writers of America and is represented by Sarah E. Younger of the Nancy Yost Literary Agency.

You can visit her online at the following places: Website Facebook | Twitter Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub | Pinterest

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THE THALANIAN DYNASTY series by NYT Bestselling Author Katee Robert?

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In FOREVER THEIRS an exiled prince, his bodyguard and the woman they can’t seem to leave alone, must return home to clear his mother’s name and reclaim his crown. Fans of Laura Kaye’s THEIR’S TO TAKE or Sierra Simone’s AMERICAN QUEEN will devour this cinderella-esque ménage.


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Start reading the series for FREE! Download THEIRS FOR THE NIGHT, the novella that introduces you to Theo, Galen, and Meg for FREE at:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2M3w3A9

B&N: http://bit.ly/2Jl0k7Q

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2JxT2Bg

iTunes: https://apple.co/2LtEK1L

 Add THEIRS FOR THE NIGHT and FOREVER THEIRS to your TBR pile on Goodreads then keep reading to get a sneak peek excerpt and your chance enter the giveaway to win one of TEN (10) eBook copies of FOREVER THEIRS!

 


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Title: Forever Theirs
Author: Katee Robert
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Thriller/Menage
Release Date: September 10, 2018
Publisher: Indie
Series: The Thalanian Dynasty
Page Count: 73K
Format: Digital
ASIN: B07DP7HT14


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Synopsis:

Meg Sanders enjoyed her wild night with a prince and his bodyguard—but now she’s moving on. She has enough problems without borrowing the kind of trouble Theo brings just by being who he is. But no matter how determined she is to leave that night a fond memory, she hasn’t seen the last of Theo and Galen…

Galen Mikos’s life boils down to one goal. Keep Theo alive. But as long as Theo draws breath, he’s a threat to the powers that have taken over Thalania—and anyone they associate with runs the risk of becoming a target, too. Galen will never forgive himself if they let their selfish desire for Meg puts her in danger. But it might already be too late…

Theo Fitzcharles might be an exiled prince, but he doesn’t intend to stay that way. He’s only concerned with one thing—clearing his mother’s name and reinstating himself as Crown Prince of Thalania. There’s no room in that plan for distraction, especially when it makes him forget himself the way Meg does. But after spending one perfect night with her and his best friend, Theo has no intention of leaving her alone.

Even if it damns all three of them in the process.

Available at: 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2t3usho

B&N: http://bit.ly/2yiyKr9

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2JQap0k

iTunes: https://apple.co/2JBPRtb


Enter to win one of TEN (10) eBook copies of FOREVER THEIRS!

 

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Forever Theirs Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Katee Robert

 

Galen stepped out of the cab and pulled Meg after him. At this time of night, there was still plenty of street traffic—plenty of opportunity for his father’s men to blend in until they were close enough to attack.

They already had attacked.

He hustled her off the sidewalk, half carrying her in his rush. She cursed at him, but she could be pissed. At least she was still alive. He didn’t believe for a second that Dorian would order her killed, not when he would see her as a tool just waiting to be used. But Galen’s father would attempt to take her, and that Galen couldn’t allow.

He didn’t relax until the elevator doors opened into their apartment and he caught sight of Theo pacing back and forth through the living room. He’s okay. Meg’s okay. They’re safe.

Except they weren’t.

Shit had hit the fan in the most fucked up way possible, and there was no cleaning up this mess.

Galen released Meg’s arm and ensured the security system was booted up and the door was locked. “Trouble?”

“Not here.” Theo rounded the couch and stopped just out of reach. He devoured Meg with his gaze, no doubt taking in her tangled hair, her torn dress, and the way she shook like a junkie in need of a fix. Adrenaline letdown. Theo cursed. “I’m sorry, princess.”

Meg crossed her arms over her chest and slid back a step, shying away from him—from them both. “I… I need a minute. A shower. Something.”

Theo gave a short nod. “Take what you need.”

She headed for the bedroom and spun at last second. “Alone.”

“No shit,” Galen growled. “Go. Take your time. We don’t touch walking wounded anyways.”

Her spine went rigid and her hazel eyes icy. “Fuck you.”

Better she be angry than terrified. He could work with angry. The scared woman in the back of the cab, looking for reassurances that he couldn’t give her… That kind of comfort wasn’t in Galen’s skillset. He preferred the harsh truth to silken lies, and there was no truth he could give Meg that wouldn’t result in her terror.

He stared until she squirmed. “Already did.”

Meg raised a shaking finger. “I swear to god—”

“Children.” Theo’s voice snapped through the room, a sharp tone that a person ignored to their peril. Meg made a sound perilously close to a snarl, but Theo ignored it. “Go shower or do whatever you need to get your head on straight. You’re fucking terrified and you’re snapping at the biggest dick in the room just to prove that you’re not helpless. It’s wasting time we don’t have.”

“His dick isn’t the biggest,” she muttered.

Galen almost laughed. Even scared out of her damn mind, Meg still had a mouth on her—and hell if he didn’t respect her more for it. “Go shower, little mouse. The adults are talking.”

She made a sound like an angry teakettle and stalked down the hallway. He waited for the sound of the door slamming, but a soft click was all he got. “Damn.”

Theo stalked into the kitchen and snagged the whiskey bottle. He took a long pull and then passed it over. “Tell me.”

“Two men. I didn’t recognize them, but they claimed Dorian sent them.” Galen drank from the bottle, letting the whiskey burn away the awful feeling in his chest when he’d walked through that door and found Meg tied to a chair with two men standing over her. He’d thought… It didn’t matter what he’d thought. He got there in time. They hadn’t done any lasting damage.

At least not the physical kind.

“She can’t go back.”

Galen stared at the bottle. He tightened his grip and put serious consideration into bashing Theo a few times with it. “You just couldn’t leave her alone, could you? It took them a grand total of three days to figure out she might matter and come after her. Fuck, Theo, this shit is on your head.”

“I know.” Theo watched him. Those blue eyes saw too much, just like always. “And yet I’m not the one who was skulking outside her work. You told me you were meeting a contact.”

Caught.

He opened his mouth, and then abandoned the lie before he gave it voice. “You put her in danger. I was ensuring she stayed safe.”

Theo’s lips quirked, but his eyes went hard. “Lie to yourself if you need to, but don’t you dare lie to me. I know why you were there—the same reason I was a week ago. You couldn’t stay away from her any more than I could.” He bracketed Galen’s throat with his hand, his thumb caressing Galen’s pulse point. Theo leaned in. “I shouldn’t have paid the tuition with my own name, and I’ll be the first to admit it. But we are both moths to her fucking flame, and you don’t get to play the beleaguered bodyguard—not right now, and not with me. You want her.”

“Yes.” The word felt ripped from him, taken despite his best efforts to stay silent.

Theo’s grip tightened and his gaze dropped to Galen’s mouth. “We can’t stay in New York. They’ll have eyes on her place.”

“They wanted to take her, Theo. There was a van illegally parked near the back door. They might have set her up to answer questions, but they were going to take her.” If they had, Dorian would use her for whatever purpose he had in mind, a lever to get Galen and Theo to dance to his tune, and then he’d discard her like yesterday’s trash. Even if he didn’t kill her, there would be scars, and she wouldn’t be the Meg they knew anymore.

Theo pressed his forehead to Galen’s, grounding them both. One breath. Two. Three. On the fourth, he stepped back and released him. “You were there in time.”

“I might not have been.” If he’d managed to resist the siren call of Meg’s presence, if he’d had more control, if he’d really gone to meet his local contact instead of doing the skulking Theo accused him of.

“You were there in time,” Theo repeated. He glanced down the hallway to the master bedroom where they could still hear the shower going. “Make the call.”

“She’s never going to forgive us for this.” For dropping a bomb on her life and leaving on destruction in their wake. The two grand was nothing compared to what came next.

Theo sighed. “I know. But better she’s pissed and alive than the alternative. Make the call, Galen. We need to be out of New York before dawn.”

 


Other books in The Thalanian Dynasty series

 Theirs for the Night

THEIRS FOR THE NIGHT is a novella. Theo, Galen, and Meg’s story continues in the novel FOREVER THEIRS.

Download at:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2M3w3A9

B&N: http://bit.ly/2Jl0k7Q

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2JxT2Bg

iTunes: https://apple.co/2LtEK1L


About Katee Robert

KateeRobert

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title, The Marriage Contract, was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.”  When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

Connect with Katee at: Website | Facebook | Twitter| GoodReads | Instagram | BookBub

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Claiming His Lioness by Kerry Adrienne

Claiming His Lioness by Kerry Adrienne
Series: Shifter Wars

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USA Today bestselling author Kerry Adrienne’s Shifter Wars series comes to its epic conclusion when former enemies align, but is it too late to protect everyone they’ve come to love?

 Order your copy of CLAIMING HIS LIONESS today and add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads! Then keep reading to get an EXCLUSIVE sneak peek and my review of CLAIMING HIS LIONESS!

 


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Title: Claiming His Lioness
Author: Kerry Adrienne
Release Date: September 3, 2018
Publisher: Carina Press
Series: Shifter Wars
Genres: Paranormal Romance
Format: Digital
 
Synopsis:

 Lara has always relished being a thorn in Mason’s paw. When she was chosen as pride Enforcer, it was easier than ever to get under the passionate shifter’s skin. But with the scent of humans in the air comes a threat she’s powerless to battle alone.

It’s time Lara unites with the one man she needs, the one man she’s secretly drawn to…as if by fate.

If there’s one thing Mason hates more than relinquishing control to a female, it’s the attraction he feels for the fiery lioness. Joining forces with Lara against an insidious enemy only makes their primal bond hotter—and the two of them stronger.

Now it’s up to them, side by side, to bring together three warring shifter clans, win the final fight and save Deep Creek.

Available at: 

Carina → http://bit.ly/2M0Rm10

Amazon → https://amzn.to/2mTUEbs

B&N → http://bit.ly/2v3uaJc

iBooks → https://apple.co/2M3ZNsy

Google Play → http://bit.ly/2mZlU8E

One Grand Prize winner will receive a $15 Gift Card + the entire Shifter Wars Series from Kerry Adrienne in ebook or *print book (winner’s choice – *print book US only)

 or 10 runners up will receive 1 ebook or *print book from Kerry Adrienne (winner’s choice – *print book US only)
a Rafflecopter giveaway


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The final installment to Kerry Adrienne’s Paranormal Romance series, Shifter Wars, has finally arrive. With Claiming His Lioness, the shifter world must band together to fight a common enemy…. humans. When an oil company decides to run pipes through the wild of Deep Creek, it would be up to the three waring shifter clans to stop this from happening before the humans find out that shifters are not just a thing of myths.

Claiming His Lioness, a fast-paced and exciting climax to this fantastic series. In the first two books of this series, Waking the Bear and pursuing the Bear, the lion was represented as being the enemy of the piece. That could be further than the truth and with Lara and Mason story you will see why.

In my opinion Claiming His Lioness was the best book in this series. Fans of PNR will totally enjoy this book

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 Claiming His Lioness Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Kerry Adrienne

 The birds and night animals were active all around them. Though her hearing wasn’t as sensitive as when she moved as a shifter, she still heard them. Scampers and calls to evening plans—all clear to her lioness, who paced inside, longing to get out and run. Lara shushed her, placating her with a promised run later. With summer starting, there’d be plenty of late night runs in the moonlight to the cadence of all the insects and heartbeats in the forest.

A nice fat rabbit sounded perfect for dinner.

Mason motioned her to crouch and she did, crawling up close to him in the brush. She could smell him. Warm, with a streak of fierceness, like a juicy steak with a hint of tangy sauce. A spice she couldn’t name and a scent so intoxicating, she had to move back a bit. She’d been near him too much today. She sniffed again, and he turned and shot her a smile.

She looked away.

What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn’t one to go around sniffing men. She shook her head. I’m just hungry, that’s all.

Mason grabbed her arm. She looked where he was pointing and inhaled sharply. Through the bushes, a short distance away, a smattering of tiny campfires blazed. And tents cast hulking shadows across the lakeshore.

Where were the humans?

The low sound of muffled voices grew louder and Lara strained to hear what was going on. A group of humans—male and at least one female—made their way to the edge of one fire, their faces alight with the bright glow.

They looked happy. None appeared to be armed but why were there so many of them? The lake was remote—how could they have gotten all the equipment so deep into the woods—unless they’d had pack mules.

And why were they at the lake?

Mason’s face mirrored her concerns, his brows slanted and his skin drawn tight. His mouth a firm line. Lara watched him a minute, noting his slightly curved nose—the bump was the only way she could easily tell Marco and Mason apart unless they were talking. Somehow, the imperfection made him even more handsome than his brother.

She looked back at the humans standing around the fire like an army at ease, but aware battle was coming. Most looked out of place—not like seasoned hikers or hunters. More like businessmen without their suits, forced into jeans and T-shirts and shoes they only wore once or twice a year or maybe bought for the outing.

Stranger and stranger.

A large man glanced their way, spotted then, then rushed toward where they crouched. Bile filled Lara’s mouth and her lioness screamed run, but she froze in place. Several other men followed the leader, and within seconds, she and Mason were surrounded by humans.

 


Don’t miss any of the Shifter Wars Series by Kerry Adrienne!

 WAKING THE BEAR https://amzn.to/2M4TiFO

PURSUING THE BEAR https://amzn.to/2v42vYv

TAMING THE LION http://bit.ly/2v4OMR3

SAVING HIS WOLF (A Shifter Wars Novella) https://amzn.to/2vktwq4


 


About Kerry Adrienne

Repped by Marisa Corvisiero, USA Today Bestselling author Kerry Adrienne writes in many genres including science fiction, fantasy, paranormal, m/m, erotic romance, and more. In her spare time, she homeschools, is a part-time college instructor, editor, and dabbler in most things creative. You can usually find her posting cat pictures on Facebook and Twitter when she’s not working.

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House of Falling Embers

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House of Falling Embers
Krystal Jane Ruin
Publication date: October 1st 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Retelling

Once upon a time there was a witch. She was a kind witch, but that didn’t matter. The people were afraid, and fear often turns to hatred.

When Artemis was thirteen, her best friend Aris was swallowed by the crumbling house they found in the woods. Like a coward, she abandoned him to the horror within.

She moved away. She tried to forget. But when she finds herself back in her old neighborhood after college, the ghosts—and her guilt—are waiting. A charred figure stalks her dreams, and someone, or something, haunts her from the trees.

Going back into the woods might be the only way to save her sanity.

Because nine years later, the house is still there. Still waiting. Still restless.

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Author Bio:

Krystal is the author of supernatural and paranormal fiction, living in the Tennessee Valley with a collection of swords and daggers. When she’s not hoarding stuffed pandas, hourglasses, and Hello Kitty replicas, she can be found in a YouTube hole or blogging about books, writing, and random things at KrystalSquared.net.

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Dragon Avenged

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Dragon Avenged
Ophelia Bell
Publication date: September 4th 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

The indulgently sexy epilogue of the “Immortal Dragons” series is here!

A year has passed since the explosive conclusion of the Dragon Council’s quest to find their mates and destroy their mortal enemy. The world of the higher races is on the verge of a dangerous shift. The dragons have one more ritual to undertake to ensure their secrets are kept and the human world remains oblivious to their presence. One woman is the key to their safety.

With powers and a bloodline no other creature in existence possesses, Deva Rainsong is finally on the verge of understanding her purpose. She must cast the spell required to reach all the humans tainted by the enemy, even if it comes at the expense of her innocence. But Deva’s nature craves a true awakening, and her rapture might just be the thing that saves them all.

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EXCERPT:

Numa gazed up at Dion, curious. “You already have a plan, don’t you? Do you have enough power to control the entire bloodline?”

Dion smiled bitterly. “Potentially, but that would be the wrong approach. Meri’s methods of mind control are not what I wish to employ to handle this challenge. There is the added complication of the mutations many of the humans possess. The bloodline is as varied as Deva’s, though none of the humans with it possess more than a few drops of divine power, thanks to their link to me. And they all have souls. Attempting to meddle with them unwillingly could corrupt them.”

Numa pursed her lips, following the thread of Dion’s thoughts. Meri’s creation of the Ultiori had involved infusing humans with the blood of the higher races, her own in particular. Once her puppets interbred, that blood, along with Meri’s nymphaea blood, was passed down the generations for thousands of years, their numbers increasing to the millions. It had allowed Meri access to immense power at the end, a power that had nearly cost them control of the Source. If Dionysus hadn’t intervened, Meri could have beaten them. Now their biggest worry was being discovered by all of humanity, which had its own set of complicated drawbacks. They couldn’t treat this issue lightly.

“But you have the power to reach them, right?” she asked.

“Yes. I can sense all the souls attached to the bloodline, but I can’t affect them on my own. I would need power from all five races to do that, and a conduit through which to channel the power—someone with a link to all the races too.”

“Not a fucking chance.”

Numa’s gaze shot to Cade, who had spoken. The big blond ursa shook his head and scowled.

“Cade, you don’t even know who would possess that kind of link.”

“The hell I don’t. You know as well as I do it’s Deva he’s talking about. The poor girl’s been through enough the past year, being shuttled around like precious cargo between all the higher realms, never once allowed to get her feet under her. Now you want her to be the apex of some sex ritual. She isn’t ready.”

“He never said . . .” Numa objected, but Cade interrupted her with a laugh.

“Sweet pea, you think I don’t know how this works? Anything that involves our magic—especially dragon or nymphaea magic—requires someone getting fucked. If it were any one of us, I’d be all over it. The five of us together brought enough power to win a fucking war. But we’ve got experience under our belts. Eons of it between us. Deva may look old enough—she may be wise beyond her years after living with the gods while we won that war—but she’s still a baby, and I guarantee none of her parents are going to sign on, either. Find someone else.”

She turned a worried gaze to Dion. “He’s right. There has to be someone else who can do it. Meri experimented on thousands. We should at least talk to Neph and Nyx about it, don’t you think?”

“You forget I am linked to all the potential options, little one. If they were tainted by Meri’s blood, they are now part of my bloodline. That includes your brother, who was Meri’s first. Yes, I can sense him with Neph and Vrishti and their new daughter in the Sanctuary, though his blood meld to my son is a stronger link. I agree we should open up the conversation to the others when they arrive, but if there was any other option, I would know.”


Author Bio:

Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren’t apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don’t mind being with a woman who’s in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.

Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and four attention-whoring cats.

If you’d like to receive regular updates on Ophelia’s publications, freebies, and discounts, please subscribe to her mailing list: http://opheliabell.com/subscribe/

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