Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Monday, June 29, 2015
Hunter of Her Heart by Kaylie Newell
Bad boy Zane Wolfe has always been wild and reckless. Even though he’s hot for his high school sweetheart, Candi Brooks, settling down has never been in his plans.
Friday, June 26, 2015
Tor Maddox by Liz Coley
“I know that one day, I’m going to have to live in the real world. I’d like it to be a decent one.” - Tor
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Exposure by Annie Jocoby
Photographer CJ Parker is a woman who has literally not gone outside for the past six months. She’s been hiding from the world, and from life, ever since an unimaginable tragedy forced her into seclusion.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Monday, June 22, 2015
Pulse by Liv Hayes
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Stalker by Clarissa Wild
F*ck me once, I’ll f*ck you twice … then I’ll bury you.
No prison can keep me from seeking revenge. Especially when it comes to her.
She, the woman who put me in jail.
No prison can keep me from seeking revenge. Especially when it comes to her.
She, the woman who put me in jail.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Falling Fast by Tina Wainscott
Fans of Jasinda Wilder and Colleen Hoover will adore this emotional new
small-town romance—a smoldering tale of first love and long-awaited
redemption from USA Today bestselling author Tina Wainscott.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Jack Gets His Man by D. E. Haggerty
Romantic Comedy
Date Published: July 1, 2015
Jack’s life is awesome. His store is making money hand over fist and his best friend has found love. So what if he’s feeling a bit restless and put out about his upcoming birthday and his ex is being a pain in his fabulous behind? That’s nothing he can’t handle. But then his smoking hot new bookkeeper discovers things at the store aren’t actually as they seem. Someone is playing fast and loose with the finances. Jack’s bestie and his gal pals, the gray-haired knitting detectives, jump at the chance to solve Jack’s problems. When they aren’t re-enacting scenes from spy thrillers, they’re setting Jack up on dates and generally insinuating themselves into his love life. They’re determined to find love for Jack as well as his missing money. Will Jack catch a thief or find love? Either way Jack’s going to get his man.
When an Alpha Purrs
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Catch My Breath by Lynn Montagano
The perfect opportunity for a much needed holiday romance? Wrong! Lia’s still reeling from the mother of all bad breakups, and she really doesn't have the patience for Alastair Holden – despite his effortless charm and sexy British accent.
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Carnal Beginnings by Reily Garrett
Warning: This book contains explicit sexual scenes and extreme violence.
An impulsive decision can alter the course of your life.
Adara’s enigmatic and sexy boss asks her a simple question. “How are you going to celebrate your twenty-first birthday?” Sounds innocent enough, until he suggests she go to Ambrosia, the infamous BDSM club. She’d no idea her boss harbored such a dark side, including erotic bondage and impact play.
To volunteer for scars and bruises will never appear on her to-do list. Since her adoptive parents died six years ago, she’s accumulated enough of them from her twisted uncle and cousin. When Julien invades her personal space, her body goes into panic mode and her mind simply shuts down.
Now, her long-awaited twenty-first birthday, and inheritance, are days away. The money means nothing, escape means survival. Working for Julien’s firm has provided her with tips and tricks on how to disappear.
Julien Crofton is an Ex-Special Forces private investigator. Since he hired Adara six months ago, her subtle signs of ongoing abuse have tied him in knots, not the good kind. Still, erotic images of what he’d like to teach her preclude rational thought.
When he finagles her under his protective wing, all hell breaks loose. A psychopathic killer is leaving notes and packaged body parts. The warning is clear—Adara is off limits.
Even while evading Adara’s sadistic family and an unknown psychopathic stalker, passion ignites. In progressive increments, Julien fans her spark of infatuation into a raging inferno. Can Adara learn that perhaps not all men are evil and just maybe…whips can be fun?
Excerpt:
A combination of ignorance and nonchalance framed the bull’s eye she wore on her forehead. He’d advised her to leave home two days ago. They could handle legalities later but not if she lacked a pulse. Stubborn woman insisted on returning. Her late morning call today surprised him, finally ready to pack and leave. Failure to meet him at his office did not.
This woman needed help, even if she didn’t realize it. As a private investigator, he’d seen this scenario rehearsed many times. For reasons unknown, human nature’s broken record played out on the Mobius strip, fate having trapped him in the loop.
The steady slap and scrape of his windshield wipers whisked the few drops of rain from his windshield, evidence that heaven cried for its angels. He stomped the accelerator. His Mazda ate up the miles as he tried to focus his mind. The closer he got to her house, the more his mind screamed with recriminations…Too late. You should have come to her house this morning.
Stones skittered into the grass bordering her driveway as his car slid to a stop in front of her bungalow. The one with the front door ajar. Oh God, I am too late. Not again. He had little recollection of getting out of his car or running into her house. He knew in his gut, he’d failed. He’d promised her he’d help, and he failed. It didn’t matter that she’d ignored his advice.
In the middle of the living room floor, she lay face down, remnants of pain still etched in her expression. Naked, blood pooled under her abdomen in an ever-widening arc. Spatters of red adorned the surrounding wall cabinets, TV, and sofa. Her hair, burnt copper in the fading light streaming through the bay window, didn’t cover her wide staring eyes. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat beaded his forehead. With shaking fingers, he bent and touched her neck, a pulse, a weak one, fast and thready. She’ll never make it, his subconscious roared through his head as he snatched up his cell to dial nine one one.
The universe he bellowed his pain to felt colder than her body. The warmth of her soul flowed out, staining the carpet with wild abandon. He could smell the residue of gunpowder. The yapping of her ankle biter at his feet didn’t register in his mind until he saw its footprints surrounding the woman’s thin frame, written in her blood.
There were no second chances. His excuses wouldn’t comfort her now.
About Reily
Though my kids are her life, writing is the life after. You know, the one you also enjoy…AFTER the kids are in bed or AFTER they’re in school and the house is quiet. This is the time she kicks back with laptop and lapdog to give her imagination free reign.
In life, hobbies can come and go according to our physical abilities, but you can always enjoy a good book. Life isn’t perfect, but our imaginations can be. Relax, whether it’s in front of a fire or in your own personal dungeon. Take pleasure in a mental pause as you root for your favorite hero/heroine and bask in their accomplishments, then share your opinions of them over a coffee with your best friend (even if he’s four legged). Life is short, cherish your time.
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My Sexy Saturday
This week's theme is all about the good ole boys doing what they do best.
In Carnal Innocence, Nate, a private investigator, is unprepared for cyclone Callie sideswiping his emotions and his life. A meet and greet at his BDSM club morphs into protective duty with the assassination of his old team mate.
Callie, an innocent raised in a Think Tank superstructure, is freed by the man intending to marry and train her as his submissive. Her genius is sought by radicals and terrorists alike.
Instead of wind milling to restore his equilibrium, he reached for the shapely torso intent on laying him low. A heavy mass of blonde, wavy hair disguised the curve of her waist as his grip tightened, trying to keep them both vertical. Unable to do that, instinct bound him to twist their positions and take the brunt of the fall. He drew her body snug against his own.
As if in slow motion, instead of gravity pulling them toward the floor, some inexplicable force drew them vertical. It was a split-second in time, barely enough for his mind to register, yet he stood straight once again. Firm, feminine curves alerted every cell in his being to attention. A deep breath—a unique blend of spice and mystery prevented further speculation as to her identity.
Thick tresses covered her face and failed to find any semblance of order. He could only guess at her features. Even so, the locks held him in thrall as they brushed against the back of his hands still holding her tight.
Soft and lustrous, they blunted his confusion over standing upright again. Nothing could’ve stopped him from bringing the satiny mane to his face. One whiff, a bouquet of exotic spices came to mind. Dear God. WTF?
Though she now stood directly in front of him, he still couldn’t discern her features. With great reluctance, he released the firm, small waist under his grip in anticipation of what he’d find under the wild mass of wavy mane.
For reasons unknown, reverence stayed his hand. In that twinkling of time, in this reality, nothing could match his imagination. He couldn’t bring himself to spoil the moment with anything less than perfection.
She must have felt it too. In raising her hand, it stopped midair, frozen, not spoiling the moment of faultless purity.
In Carnal Innocence, Nate, a private investigator, is unprepared for cyclone Callie sideswiping his emotions and his life. A meet and greet at his BDSM club morphs into protective duty with the assassination of his old team mate.
Callie, an innocent raised in a Think Tank superstructure, is freed by the man intending to marry and train her as his submissive. Her genius is sought by radicals and terrorists alike.
Carnal Innocence - To be released soon
The following instant, the force of her impact and the tangle of long limbs with his own ensured balance and grace would devolve into a klutzy and painful plummet to the hardwood floor. Instead of wind milling to restore his equilibrium, he reached for the shapely torso intent on laying him low. A heavy mass of blonde, wavy hair disguised the curve of her waist as his grip tightened, trying to keep them both vertical. Unable to do that, instinct bound him to twist their positions and take the brunt of the fall. He drew her body snug against his own.
As if in slow motion, instead of gravity pulling them toward the floor, some inexplicable force drew them vertical. It was a split-second in time, barely enough for his mind to register, yet he stood straight once again. Firm, feminine curves alerted every cell in his being to attention. A deep breath—a unique blend of spice and mystery prevented further speculation as to her identity.
Thick tresses covered her face and failed to find any semblance of order. He could only guess at her features. Even so, the locks held him in thrall as they brushed against the back of his hands still holding her tight.
Soft and lustrous, they blunted his confusion over standing upright again. Nothing could’ve stopped him from bringing the satiny mane to his face. One whiff, a bouquet of exotic spices came to mind. Dear God. WTF?
Though she now stood directly in front of him, he still couldn’t discern her features. With great reluctance, he released the firm, small waist under his grip in anticipation of what he’d find under the wild mass of wavy mane.
For reasons unknown, reverence stayed his hand. In that twinkling of time, in this reality, nothing could match his imagination. He couldn’t bring himself to spoil the moment with anything less than perfection.
She must have felt it too. In raising her hand, it stopped midair, frozen, not spoiling the moment of faultless purity.
Friday, June 12, 2015
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Monday, June 8, 2015
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Shadowed Passage by Shyla Wolff
Tariffs paid on an ill-fated
decision can last a lifetime.
A young
boy—tossed an impossible situation by his psychopathic uncle, father or sister,
he must kill one for the other to survive.
Two
decades later, Dylan has developed his psychic talents, trained with the
military, and learned the skills necessary to locate the family he’d abandoned
as a child and kill the devil himself, Roth. On the day he’s discharged, his
ex-boss offers assistance in locating his sisters, demanding help with one more
mission in exchange.
Tori,
a young woman weeks away from graduating with her Psych doctorate, is torn from
her stable life and thrust into a world of espionage, warriors, and
unexplainable phenomenon. The man she loves, Major Clannahan, attaches her to
the unit charged with locating a terrorist cell. Dylan, leading the unit, draws
her like no other. Yet the darkness buried in his soul will test her skills and
patience beyond anything she’s ever known.
Kiera
and Kyley, identical twins challenged by the extremes of evil, remain pure of
heart, both bound to their men with a love withstanding the tests of time and
tragedy. One a warrior, the other with a
warrior’s heart, each wield formidable psychic talents, sought after by a
psychopath and terrorist bent on destroying the country.
It
is a group of psychic warriors, dedicated to fighting evil in the shadows, locating
and helping others develop their paranormal talents without splintering
society’s tenacious perception of reality.
These
are the extraordinary people living among us, protecting and preserving our way
of life. Courage and honor, duty and strength of will can sustain us for only
so long. Eventually, we must find our own path forward, learning to open our
hearts to love even as we risk the ultimate pain.
Purchase Amazon
Excerpt:
“The choice is yours, boy, but understand—not deciding is making a decision. Do it before I make the decision for you. Only difference is, I won’t kill one, I’ll kill them both. Father or sister. You have all the power.”
Roth kept his tone calm and gentle. The evil coiled tightly within warmed his soul. He fancied the boy killing his father, silently rooting for the infant to survive. He could have lots of fun with her over the coming years.
The boy’s father would die either way. He’d bound and beaten him just for fun.
“Daddy? What do I do?” Tears streamed down Dylan’s face, sobs racked his entire nine-year-old battered frame. His gaze slid from his father to his baby sister, now held by Roth. When he looked back at his dad’s bruised and bloodied face, he cried harder. His dad’s eyes were swollen almost shut.
The gun shook uncontrollably in the boy’s small hand. “Daddy?”
Boredom shadowed his mind as the excitement of the climax dimmed with the child’s indecisiveness. His gaze wandered out the window above the kitchen sink.
In the back yard, a massive, wooden play structure stood, complete with swings, tunnels, overhead ladder, and a slide. How extravagant for just two children, one still an infant. His sister always belabored the little things. Shame she’s not present to witness this. He would’ve found this even more amusing.
The blond haired infant cradled roughly in his left arm actually cooed at him. Disgusting. If he kept this thing, he'd have to hire a nanny. Still, the thought of it growing up with half the powers his sister enjoyed years ago made the brat worth the trouble...If she survived today. He sighed.
* * * *
“Dylan, son, it's okay. You’re going to be all right. Look at me. Remember how we played catch this morning? When you think of me, you’ll remember how we played ball today. Okay, son?”
What else could he say in this horrific situation? His own psychotic brother-in-law was forcing Dylan to commit the most heinous act imaginable, choose between patricide and sororicide. Roth had always been the canary in the crazy mind but even Devon hadn’t seen this coming.
“Awww, isn’t this touching?” Roth muttered, no doubt weary of his twisted game. “What a little wimp. I’m growing tired of your indecision, boy. I think I’ll just slice this little bitch’s throat. After all, she’d probably just grow up to be a carbon copy of her mother, stubborn and willful. Wouldn’t want more of that in the world, would we?”
“Noooo, please. Please don’t hurt her! She’s just a baby.” Facing where he knew his son to be by the sound of his sobbing stifled his thoughts. “Son, I know this is the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but you must. Please. It’s all right. I love you more than anything.”
Dylan retched, fumbling and almost dropping the Glock 9mm pistol. It probably felt like the heaviest thing he’d ever held, certainly his first time holding a gun.
His small frame trembled, tears streamed from his eyes, hair matted to his face. Red, swollen tissue marred the right side of his face, the result of Roth’s cold temper. The kitchen table supported his slight weight as he leaned one forearm on its edge.
“Roth, please don’t do this. He’s just a boy. Be the sniveling coward you’ve always been. Do it yourself.” Articulation was slurred through split and bloody lips. His tongue slipped between the gap of two missing teeth.
Though partially open, his right eye refused to focus properly. Warm, wet liquid traced a path down his face. Gravity would always trump decency. Blood splattered his clothes. Patches of gray clouded the edges of his vision. Unconsciousness lumbered near. The drumming in his head kept pace with his rapid-fire pulse. No child should ever see his father this way, unable to protect his family. Even if his son survived Roth, which he began to doubt, he'd be scarred for life.
“Oh, Devon, Devon, Devon. You just don’t get it, do you? I’m not a coward,” Roth admonished. “I have no qualms about ending any of your lives. Watch, let me demonstrate.” His patronizing voice oozed in the air like oil spreading over water to corrupt with its filth. Roth pulled the six-inch blade from its sheath at his waist and held it to the baby’s throat, who lay cuddled in the crook of his left arm.
“No, don’t. You bastard!” Devon strained at the rope binding his hands behind his back. “Dylan, listen. Take the family crest ring off my finger. Go ahead, son, take it. It’s yours. It’s our coat of arms.” Twisting sideways forced the bonds to cut his wrists as he removed the ring from fingers slick with blood.
When his son took it, he realized these would be his last words to his boy. “Put it in your pocket, you can get a chain for it until you’re grown. That ring is a symbol of your strength, son, a symbol of your commitment to do whatever’s necessary to protect your family. Remember this, Dylan.” Dear God, he'll have nightmares the rest of his life...if he survives.
Excerpt:
“The choice is yours, boy, but understand—not deciding is making a decision. Do it before I make the decision for you. Only difference is, I won’t kill one, I’ll kill them both. Father or sister. You have all the power.”
Roth kept his tone calm and gentle. The evil coiled tightly within warmed his soul. He fancied the boy killing his father, silently rooting for the infant to survive. He could have lots of fun with her over the coming years.
The boy’s father would die either way. He’d bound and beaten him just for fun.
“Daddy? What do I do?” Tears streamed down Dylan’s face, sobs racked his entire nine-year-old battered frame. His gaze slid from his father to his baby sister, now held by Roth. When he looked back at his dad’s bruised and bloodied face, he cried harder. His dad’s eyes were swollen almost shut.
The gun shook uncontrollably in the boy’s small hand. “Daddy?”
Boredom shadowed his mind as the excitement of the climax dimmed with the child’s indecisiveness. His gaze wandered out the window above the kitchen sink.
In the back yard, a massive, wooden play structure stood, complete with swings, tunnels, overhead ladder, and a slide. How extravagant for just two children, one still an infant. His sister always belabored the little things. Shame she’s not present to witness this. He would’ve found this even more amusing.
The blond haired infant cradled roughly in his left arm actually cooed at him. Disgusting. If he kept this thing, he'd have to hire a nanny. Still, the thought of it growing up with half the powers his sister enjoyed years ago made the brat worth the trouble...If she survived today. He sighed.
* * * *
“Dylan, son, it's okay. You’re going to be all right. Look at me. Remember how we played catch this morning? When you think of me, you’ll remember how we played ball today. Okay, son?”
What else could he say in this horrific situation? His own psychotic brother-in-law was forcing Dylan to commit the most heinous act imaginable, choose between patricide and sororicide. Roth had always been the canary in the crazy mind but even Devon hadn’t seen this coming.
“Awww, isn’t this touching?” Roth muttered, no doubt weary of his twisted game. “What a little wimp. I’m growing tired of your indecision, boy. I think I’ll just slice this little bitch’s throat. After all, she’d probably just grow up to be a carbon copy of her mother, stubborn and willful. Wouldn’t want more of that in the world, would we?”
“Noooo, please. Please don’t hurt her! She’s just a baby.” Facing where he knew his son to be by the sound of his sobbing stifled his thoughts. “Son, I know this is the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but you must. Please. It’s all right. I love you more than anything.”
Dylan retched, fumbling and almost dropping the Glock 9mm pistol. It probably felt like the heaviest thing he’d ever held, certainly his first time holding a gun.
His small frame trembled, tears streamed from his eyes, hair matted to his face. Red, swollen tissue marred the right side of his face, the result of Roth’s cold temper. The kitchen table supported his slight weight as he leaned one forearm on its edge.
“Roth, please don’t do this. He’s just a boy. Be the sniveling coward you’ve always been. Do it yourself.” Articulation was slurred through split and bloody lips. His tongue slipped between the gap of two missing teeth.
Though partially open, his right eye refused to focus properly. Warm, wet liquid traced a path down his face. Gravity would always trump decency. Blood splattered his clothes. Patches of gray clouded the edges of his vision. Unconsciousness lumbered near. The drumming in his head kept pace with his rapid-fire pulse. No child should ever see his father this way, unable to protect his family. Even if his son survived Roth, which he began to doubt, he'd be scarred for life.
“Oh, Devon, Devon, Devon. You just don’t get it, do you? I’m not a coward,” Roth admonished. “I have no qualms about ending any of your lives. Watch, let me demonstrate.” His patronizing voice oozed in the air like oil spreading over water to corrupt with its filth. Roth pulled the six-inch blade from its sheath at his waist and held it to the baby’s throat, who lay cuddled in the crook of his left arm.
“No, don’t. You bastard!” Devon strained at the rope binding his hands behind his back. “Dylan, listen. Take the family crest ring off my finger. Go ahead, son, take it. It’s yours. It’s our coat of arms.” Twisting sideways forced the bonds to cut his wrists as he removed the ring from fingers slick with blood.
When his son took it, he realized these would be his last words to his boy. “Put it in your pocket, you can get a chain for it until you’re grown. That ring is a symbol of your strength, son, a symbol of your commitment to do whatever’s necessary to protect your family. Remember this, Dylan.” Dear God, he'll have nightmares the rest of his life...if he survives.
About Shyla
Of the many lessons life seems intent on throwing her way,
the most important one Shyla’s learned is to take the time to enjoy family and
friends. The flux and flow of changes aren’t something to fight, but adapt to
with the best of your ability. One day’s heartbreak is often followed by
another day’s triumph. The only barricades remaining are the ones we refuse to
navigate. She hopes you’ve enjoyed this story. Shyla’s website, ShylaWolff.com,
will be updated as Dylan’s journey continues.
Website
Website
Monday, June 1, 2015
Witches Be Burned by Stacey Kennedy
Magic & Mayhem # 2
By: Stacey Kennedy
Releasing May 19th, 2015
Loveswept
In Stacey Kennedy’s steamy paranormal romance novel, a rookie guardian sworn to combat the undead risks life and love in a world of violence, witchcraft, and seduction.
Nexi Jones has lost her family, she’s been stripped of her guardian duties, and she’s still learning the ins and outs of white magic. At least she has Kyden, the smoldering hot elite guardian who’s been there for her every step of the way. But just as Nexi completes her training, tragedy strikes the Otherworld when a fellow guardian is murdered by a group of rogue vampires. Ready or not, she and Kyden trek into the Earthworld to hunt down a killer—and Nexi alone will be put to the ultimate test.
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