tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41991156110578345032024-02-20T05:25:07.595-08:00Novel SeductionAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.comBlogger400125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-60766763901492718812015-02-07T15:33:00.003-08:002015-02-07T15:37:32.703-08:00Tight by Alessandra Torre, Review and Buy Links<div align="center">
<span style="font-size: large;">Tight</span></div>
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by Alessandra Torre</div>
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<span style="color: #660000;">*~* COVER *~*</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;">*~* SYNOPSIS *~*</span></div>
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<span id="freeText11222682610423276805">I was happy in my small town. In my life as a single, thirty-two year old woman. I had a good job, wonderful friends, my independence.<br /><br />I also hadn't got laid in three years. Hadn't been on a date in two. Had stopped counting calories and wearing makeup... a while ago.<br /><br />Then Brett Jacobs waltzed in. Caressed my thigh, dug rough fingers into my hair, lowered his soft mouth to my skin, took sexual control of my mind and stirred it all around with what he packed in his pants. He flipped my quiet life upside down and crawled into a place in my heart I thought was dead.<br /><br />The issue is his secret.<br />The issue is her.<br />The issue is that I don't even know she exists, and he thinks she's dead.<br />The issue is that shit is about to hit the fan and I can't hold on to him tight enough.</span> </div>
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<span style="color: #660000;">*~* REVIEW *~*</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">If you think you know, you SO don't know. You think you know Alessandra Torre's style, you've read all of her novels, her series, her mini series. You think, Oh yeah, I know her genre. I know her smoking hot sex scenes. I know all about her alpha males, that mostly all begin with the letter "B". Well, if you are like me, then you are completely wrong. </span></div>
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I didn't know anything about Tight. I knew it began as a novella in an anthology and the name of it was, Still. I had it sitting on my Kindle, waiting for me, but alas, life happened and I didn't get to it right away. Shortly after this anthology came out, it was banned! Gasp! I love anything that could make people freak out and get all up in arms about nothing, so it was exciting to me. So Alessandra made the announcement that she would make Still into a full length novel called Tight. Knowing this and my obsessiveness and impatience, I decided not to read Still and wait for Tight! It killed me because anything from Ms. Torre does not go un-read, but I waited. </div>
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Tight is the story of Riley and Brett. It starts as a whirlwind, love at first sight type of story. At first I thought, ok, this is fine, a little insta-love, hot rich guy, sweet southern girl...I've heard of this before. But then I kept going and going and soon I couldn't put it down. There are chapters interspersed through their story that make your brain go all haywire. I kept trying to piece things together. To place the blame on someone. I was at a loss. Then once it all made sense, I was in a rush to see how things ended. The subject matter might be a little intense for some. Read it with an open mind and know that these horrible situations do exist. It made me think of national headlines, stories where women go missing. It was heartbreaking at times and terrifying at times. I still can't get over the teeth incident. (that's all I'm giving up there, but I'm going to have to have a convo with Alessandra regarding this!) But what it came down to was that Riley is a smart and tough woman that could hold her own. I adore Brett! Brett is the ultimate caretaker and knight in shining armor. I wish we got a deeper look into these two. I also would love a sequel to this. </div>
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I would like to thank Alessandra for keeping us guessing! Not staying the same, ever! Never afraid to change things up. This is why I love her novel so much. They are never repeats and never disappoint. Congrats on stepping outside of the box!</div>
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xo, D</div>
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<span style="color: #660000;">*~* BUY IT *~*</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TBPEOS4">Amazon</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1121174112?ean=2940150068124">Barnes and Noble</a> | <a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/tight-4">Kobo</a> | <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/tight/id965241491?mt=11">iTunes</a></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;">*~* About the Author *~*</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: small;">A New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author, Alessandra Torre has written seven novels, four of which became #1 Erotic Bestsellers.</span></span></h2>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: small;">Her first book, Blindfolded Innocence, became a breakout hit, rising to the top of the charts on Kindle and Amazon where it attracted the interest of major publishing houses and garnered Torre her first print deal with Harlequin HQN. Less than twelve months later, Torre signed a second print deal, this time with Redhook (Hachette) for her erotic thriller The Girl in 6E.</span></span></h2>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: small;">From her home near the warm waters of the Emerald Coast in Florida, she devotes several hours each day to various writing projects and interacting with her fans on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest. Happily married and with one son, she loves watching SEC football games, horseback riding, reading and watching movies.</span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Torre has four books slated for release in 2015. To stay informed, consider subscribing to her popular </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.nextnovel.com/" style="text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="color: #dc1a9b;">monthly newsletter</span></a>!</span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #660000;">*~* Stalk Her *~*</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.alessandratorre.com/">website</a> | <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AlessandraTorre0">Facebook</a> | <a href="https://twitter.com/ReadAlessandra">Twitter</a> | <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6452845.Alessandra_Torre?from_search=true">Goodreads</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-17884086722489517662014-08-20T04:20:00.001-07:002014-08-20T04:20:40.716-07:00Blog Tour: The Passions of Honor by Lorraine Britt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Army Special Forces Senior Sergeant Eli Stevens is married to his childhood sweetheart, Katherine. She is his princess, his world. He is her first and only love, her best friend, her everything. They finally have what they've always dreamed of…a baby on the way. </div>
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But this happy news comes on the eve of Eli and his best friend Sergeant William Bradshaw’s deployment for a special mission... A mission that Eli knows in his heart will be his last.</div>
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Before Eli’s premonition comes true he tells William to watch over his family, to be a father to his child, to love Katherine. William reluctantly agrees, moving into the Stevens home to take care of Katherine. The longer he is there the more she depends on him. But she holds William emotionally at a distance, scared of the feelings he stirs inside her. And despite fighting against it he falls in love with Katherine and the child, even though feels he is betraying his friend.</div>
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Can they find their way through the nightmares to give in to what is between them? Or will the past come back to haunt William in more ways than one?</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I made the fifteen minute drive in ten minutes flat, pulling up as close as I could as the sun began to lower slowly in the sky. I took a deep breath, wiping my eyes, before I climbed out of the car. I wrapped my arms around my body against the cooling air, shivering a bit as I clasped Eli’s dog tags tightly in my hand.<br />
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Quickly I weaved my way through the aging tombstones until I found the one marked with his family name, my family name. I fell to my knees in front of it, leaning forward until my head hit the cold marble of the stone. My shoulders shook with the sobs that wracked my tiny body.<br />
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My hands reached for the stone as my fingers splayed over the letters carved in it. I couldn’t help the feeling that while his father and grandfather were indeed buried there, there as none of Eli to be found here. His plot was filled with nothing but some dirt and ashes brought back from some land far across the sea. It wasn’t my Eli. But it was all I had left. It was the only place I had left to go.<br />
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Everyone thought I was crazy, thinking and believing he could still be alive. No matter what I said they looked at me like I had lost my mind, just some grieving widow clinging to some sad hope. But I knew, in my gut I knew. Something wasn’t right. Something told me not to give up. And I clung to that. Perhaps it was foolish of me, but I clung to it. </blockquote>
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Lorraine Britt is a fourth generation Native Texan who is also immensely proud of her Louisiana heritage and solid Southern roots. As an enthusiastic lover of the written word, inspiration struck Lorraine and she began to bubble over with her own ideas. Grasping hold of her lifelong dreams, it wasn’t long before she was putting pen to paper and letting her fingers fly over a keyboard to bring her own characters to life. When she isn’t busy scribbling notes for her next idea you might find her whipping up delicious creations in the kitchen or putting miles on her car on road trip adventures. Lorraine is equally passionate about music, movies and sports. You’ll no doubt find these familiar themes woven throughout her books. Lorraine and her family currently make their home in northeast Texas.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-29440485452244542672014-08-20T04:18:00.003-07:002014-08-20T04:18:57.471-07:00Spotlight Tour: Kismet by A.E. Woodward with Guest Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Katie’s world came crashing down in an instant.</div>
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Her husband, daughter, and unborn baby. . . all gone in a flash. The life that she’d come to know, gone before she ever really got to live it.</div>
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With a broken heart, she deals the only way she knows how, by shutting it all off. No communicating, no feelings, just pure nothingness.</div>
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Alone with nothing but her own thoughts and a well meaning family, she moves back to her childhood home, a horse farm. It’s there that she finds herself healing along with the horses her family rehabilitates. But when Parker McKenzie comes back into her life she’s reminded of all that went wrong, and all that she lost.</div>
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Will Katie ever begin to heal? Or will her secrets and loss be too much for her to overcome?</div>
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Perhaps, this is her kismet.<br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Guest Review</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;">4 Stars</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.0pt;">While
this book may have started off a little slow, it had a way of sucking you in.
The anguish that Katie, and her family left to pick up the pieces of her, feels
is palpable. Parker thought he was doing the right thing all those years ago
when he sent her on his way, but now that she's back, and she needs him, he
knows that this time he's not going to give up or give her up. That is until
things change. The author did an AMAZING job of bringing us through Katie's
recovery while showing us what lead to her issues in the first place. All of
her characters were extremely well written and believable. However, I did feel
that it started a little slow, and there were some times I felt the drama was a
little much, and I seriously hated the ending of the book even though it was
incredibly well written so I'm only giving it 4 stars.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.0pt;">Reviewed
by Sirenda from Swoon Worthy Books<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt 1: </span></b><br />
I stare at the TV again, not really watching what’s on, while the people around me busily prepare for my departure. A nurse fusses over my stitches and bandages, while my father and brother chat mundanely across the room from me. I hear my mother talking in hushed voices with Stevenson. I can’t make out the whole of their conversation, and I don’t really care to, but since the men in my family are speaking at an annoyingly loud decibel, I couldn’t if I tried. That being said, I hear a mix of their words.<br />
<br />
“…Considering the trauma…low self-worth…Selective Mutism, which should be familiar…happens only in adults with previous mutism…as far as treatment…anxiety reduction…exposure exercises…”<br />
These are all words my family and I are all too familiar with. My family know all the ins and outs of my diagnosis. They know the therapies—what has worked in the past, and what didn’t. We’ve been down this road before, and to think of traveling it again makes me sick to my stomach, but I can’t see how things will get better. My reasons for living are gone. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I shake my head, thinking about doctors. It hadn’t taken long for them to label me again, deciding what is best for me and my emotional well-being. I want to be pissed, to have some sort of reaction to something, but I just can’t muster a single feeling. I truly don’t care. They think they know me, but they don’t. All the degrees and training in the world can’t touch my emotional damage. I have nothing left to live for. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt 2: </span></b><br />
“I know that we’ve had our moments,” Parker says, and his voice is quiet as he gently puts his hand on mine, “but I’m just trying to help you, kiddo.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
My eyes find his icy blue ones, hidden under the most beautiful lashes, and my heart skips. I want to pull my hand away, but I can’t. There is something about his touch, something soothing and familiar. Without thinking, I run my hand up the length of his arm, taking a step towards him and allowing myself to get closer. Everything stills and I know my brain is no longer in control of my action, this is all my heart.<br />
<br />
Our stomachs touch and I’m so close that I’m able to breathe in the familiar scent of him. I search his face, looking for some sort of insight. What is he thinking?<br />
<br />
With another step, I place my left hand on his chest. He looks at me, unsure of himself. Not something I see on Parker often.<br />
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Before he can argue I throw myself at him, my arms wrap around his waist and I place my head on his shoulder. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Every muscle in his body goes lax as I hug him. “Jesus, Katie, I’ve missed you,” he whispers running his hand through my dark blonde hair. “I just want to hear your voice.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I want to believe him but I can’t. Parker McKenzie has always been full of it. Back when I knew him—really knew him—he’d say and do anything to get what he wanted. Everything was always a conquest for him, just like I had been…and probably still am.<br />
<br />
Hands rest on either side of my face, and Parker gently lifts my gaze to his. I want to hate him. I want to push him away from me. But I can’t. I’m frozen, under the control of emotions that have been buried away for years. With the realization that he still has a hold on my heart, the guilt washes over me. My stomach churns and I start to pull away from him. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
As if sensing my change in mood, he tightens his grip on my wrists and pulls me back in. He thumbs my bracelet, reminding me of the depth of our relationship. There are so many layers to Katie and Parker. Layers that no one will truly ever uncover.<br />
<br />
“I know I treated you like shit, and I know that I don’t deserve for you to give me a chance, but you’ve gotta know that the minute you left town seven years ago, I knew I’d made a mistake. I know you know it too. You and I were the only thing that ever made sense to me, Katie.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Emotions begin to stir inside of me. His eyes burn down on mine. I struggle to organize my thoughts, wondering what my next move will be. We’ve never talked about that day, and I want to know why.<br />
<br />
I consider my options. Do I start my healing by figuring out my past? I just want to know why things ended up the way they did. I want to make sense of this crazy thing called my life. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“What the hell’s going on here?” Tommy’s voice bellows through the stable.<br />
Just like two gawky teenagers getting caught for the first time, we break our embrace. I look up to see Tommy stalking angrily down the narrow walkway of the barn. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“She’s my family too, Tommy,” Parker calls out. “I have a right to hug her if I want.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Before I know it, Tommy’s chest is bumping with Parker’s. They’re standing face to face, their noses practically touching. The tension in the stable has just increased tenfold. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“She’s been through enough without you fucking with her head again, Parker!”<br />
<br />
“I’m not fucking with her.” Parker pushes Tommy away with his hands. Tommy clenches his fists and I can tell he’s doing his best to control his anger. A nervous ball of energy rests in my stomach and I watch helplessly as Parker exits the stall and walks out of the barn. “I’m helping her,” he calls over his shoulder. “You would understand that if you knew anything about your sister.” And with those parting words he leaves Tommy and I alone with nothing but our silent thoughts.</blockquote>
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A.E. lives in Vacationland with her husband and two children. Between her real job and writing she finds little time to enjoy life's finer things. However in the free time she does manage to steal, she enjoys spending time with friends and family, and reading. A.E. is the author of Kismet and A Series of Imperfections: Imperfectly Perfect, Imperfectly Real, and Imperfectly Bad. She is currently writing her fifth book, Working Girl.</div>
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My student loans are due and I still haven’t found a job that pays more than minimum wage. So I decide to make an arrangement through The Club. I’ll get what I need…money to pay my loans. And he’ll get what he wants…access to my body…whenever and however he wants it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ROSE COLLINS is a recent art school graduate with overwhelming student loan debt and no way to pay it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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JAE ROTHKO is a wealthy and renowned artist who doesn’t have the time or patience for a relationship.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jae joins The Club so he can have one woman when he wants and how he wants with no attachments and no expectations.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He selects Rose to be that woman.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22747382-black-dog-nights?ac=1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="add-to-goodreads-button31" class="aligncenter" src="http://swoonworthybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/add-to-goodreads-button31.png" height="45" width="134" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">Part One</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22849885-black-dog-nights?from_search=true" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="add-to-goodreads-button31" class="aligncenter" src="http://swoonworthybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/add-to-goodreads-button31.png" height="45" width="134" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">Part Two</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22849886-black-dog-nights?from_search=true" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="add-to-goodreads-button31" class="aligncenter" src="http://swoonworthybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/add-to-goodreads-button31.png" height="45" width="134" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">Part Three</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<img alt="Excerpt" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6258" src="http://swoonworthybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Excerpt.png" height="100" width="216" /></div>
<div style="border: 9px double #e4bf8b; height: 400px; overflow: auto; width: 100%;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">By the time we get to The Rock Stop it’s already
crowded with twenty-somethings, who all look eager to hook up with anyone who’s
willing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I pass by two guys, who are already half-drunk and
gawking at my breasts, before I hit the relative safety of the bar area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“What do you want to drink?” Cali yells over the loud
Top Forty music.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Would I look too conspicuous just holding a glass of
water?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Cali purses her lips at me. I tell her she looks like
a duck when she does that but it doesn’t stop her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“I’ll get you a beer. You don’t have to drink it but
I don’t want you to embarrass me or yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Yes, Daffy,” I tease.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“I do not have duck lips,” she insists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“You do when you pucker them like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“I think you’re on crack.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Just get the beer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She waves in order to get the bartender’s attention
but no such luck. He’s busy with a group of girls at the other end of the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Hey, Babe.” An arm reaches over Cali’s shoulder. “I
wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">David nods in my direction. “What’s up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">He never addresses me by my name even though he’s
been hooking up with Cali for over a year and I’ve seen him dozens of times. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">David is the kind of guy I always hated in high
school. His family has money and he’s never had to work a day in his life for
anything. Cars, clothes, expensive vacations, you name it, and his parents have
handed it to him on a silver platter. As a result he has a sense of entitlement
that knows no bounds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">No doubt that’s why he feels like he can treat Cali
any way he pleases and she just keeps coming back for more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">He runs his fingers through his short brown hair. I’m
not sure whether it’s a nervous habit or if he thinks that his fingers are like
some kind of comb but he does it all the time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">David is a good-looking guy in a frat-boy kind of
way. Cali says he played baseball in high school and he looks like he probably
still plays sports. He’s not huge but he’s definitely in good shape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Cali met David at a frat party. Even though she’s
never set foot in a college class she’s spent a lot of time at college parties.
David likes to brag about the fact that he’s a business major. I don’t see what
the big deal is though. I feel like business is a degree for people who don’t really
know what they want to do with their lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Not that I have any room to talk. Apparently I earned
a degree for people who don’t really want a job.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Before I know it, Cali and David have disappeared
somewhere and I’m alone at the bar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Great.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I didn’t even want to come here in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I have a choice. I can leave or I can order a drink.
After the day I’ve had a drink is actually starting to sound appealing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">As soon as the DJ starts mixing, nearly everyone
moves to the dance floor. The bar area is now pretty empty except for a young
woman seated at the far end. She glances up at me when I approach and gives me
the faintest of smiles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She’s an attractive blonde with stunning ocean blue
eyes. She’s the definition of a blonde bombshell. She’s got curves that would
give Marilyn Monroe a run for her money. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I order a Crantini and the bartender wastes no time
filling my order. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Tough day?” the blonde asks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I nod.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Have a seat.” She waves to the stool next to her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Thanks.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I climb onto the stool and take a sip of my drink.
It’s strong and I cough a little as it goes down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Russ likes to make them strong.” She laughs. “Maybe
he thinks he’ll get lucky at the end of the night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The bartender looks like he’s in his mid-thirties and
kind of rough. He’s completely bald and built like a brick house. Definitely
someone I would want to have on my side if a fight broke out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Are you waiting for someone?” I ask. She looks a
little too dressed up for the place we’re in. It’s mostly a denim crowd and
she’s in a little black dress and pumps. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“You could say that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I nod. A cryptic response but I get the impression
that she’s not going to say much more about who she’s waiting for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“So what’s your story?” she asks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I laugh. “Do I look like I have a story?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“You definitely look like you have a story.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“You’ve probably heard it millions times before.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She glances at her watch. I can’t help but notice
it’s a gorgeous Rolex. The blonde doesn’t look that much older than me. I doubt
she’s even twenty-five. It makes me wonder how she can afford such an expensive
watch. When I look at her more closely, I notice she’s also wearing a diamond
tennis bracelet and huge diamond stud earrings. Also very expensive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Maybe she’s like David and has a generous daddy with
lots of money.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“I’ve got a few minutes before my friend gets here.
Tell me this story I’ve heard a million times before.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I take another sip of my drink. She’s right. Russ
does like to make them strong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“I recently graduated from art school. I have a fine
arts degree but no professional job and no prospects. My student loans are set
to go into repayment and I have no way to pay them. I’m barely making ends meet
on my salary busting my ass at the local coffee shop. Pathetic, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She shakes her head. “It’s not pathetic but you’re
right. It’s a story I’ve heard a lot. Maybe not a million times. Half a million
tops.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">We both laugh. It feels good to laugh about it. At
least for one night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She reaches into her purse, a pricey Coach bag, and
pulls out a business card. I expect her to hand it to me but she places it on
the bar between us instead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“I don’t do this very often but I feel bad for you so
I’m making an exception.” She points to the card. “You can pick it up if you
want to, after I tell you what it’s about. Or you can leave it on the bar. It’s
completely up to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">My curiosity is definitely piqued. When I glance down
at the card I notice it only has two words: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Club</i> followed by a phone number.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“What’s The Club?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“It’s a kind of dating service.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I frown. “Do I look like need a date?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“No, but you said you need money. This is a special
kind of dating service for extremely wealthy men.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I assume that’s how she got her Rolex and other
jewelry but I don’t want to be rude. “Are you saying it’s kind of like having a
sugar daddy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She laughs. “That’s kind of an antiquated term but
sort of. Most of the men in The Club are older and they have very specific
tastes. Most of them want younger women but more importantly, they want women
who will be there whenever and however they want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I gulp. Then I whisper. “Are you talking about
prostitution?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She gives me a little smile. “Prostitution implies
that you’re with multiple men and they’re paying you for sex. It’s not like
that. It’s more like you’re being paid to be one man’s mistress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Are they married?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She laughs. “Some are. Some aren’t. Does it matter?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“I think it would to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">It’s a good question. I’m not married. He’d be the
one doing the cheating.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Do you mind if I ask how much money you’re talking
about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“That’s negotiable between you and the man who
selects you. It’s called an arrangement. You can negotiate any sort of
arrangement you want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Could you give me a ballpark figure?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Usually between three and five thousand a month.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">My eyes grow wide at the thought of that kind of
money. My ten dollars an hour at the coffee shop, even with overtime and tips,
doesn’t even come close to that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“And that doesn’t include all of the perks. A lot of
the men like to provide their girlfriends with generous gifts in addition to their
arrangement.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“You said a lot of the guys are older. How old?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">An image of a geriatric using a walker crosses my
mind. I’m not sure I’d be able to have sex with someone that old, if he could
still even have sex.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“The guy I have an arrangement with is fifty-four.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">That’s ten years older than my dad. I can feel my
stomach start to knot. Am I really considering getting involved with some kind
of club and being paid to have sex with a guy who could be older than my
father?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The blonde leans in close. “Don’t let his age fool
you. He can still perform in bed. And I only have to see him two days a week
for a few hours. And my arrangement is non-exclusive. He doesn’t mind if I date
other guys.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“I don’t really date that much,” I confess.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“That’s even better. There are a lot of guys who want
exclusive arrangements. Not as many girls go in for that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I stare at the business card for a few seconds. Is
this something I’m actually considering? I’m just not sure. There’s no doubt
that I need the money but I’m not sure about having sex with someone I don’t
even know…for money.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“It’s really not that bad,” she insists. “I wasn’t
sure at first either but you get used to it. And Alex can be a really sweet
guy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">She makes a point of pushing the business card a
little closer to me. “At least meet with Claudia. You can always back out if a
guy selects you and you don’t like him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I pass my hand over the card and hesitate for a
moment. I feel like this is a pivotal moment. Like my whole life could change
just by picking up the card. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I take in a deep breath then grab the card from the
bar. Now that it’s actually in my hand I feel like calling the phone number is
inevitable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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Ren Monterrey lives in a small town outside Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and their bloodhounds. She writes New Adult and Contemporary romance under a number of different pen names.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-80510197073175701652014-08-19T03:58:00.000-07:002014-08-19T03:58:09.600-07:00Blog Tour: Hearts on Fire by Ashli Rose<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It has been five years since Ava Kingston left her parents’ house in New Jersey. She ran and never looked back, all because of one night. One night that could’ve changed her life forever. Now living in Chicago, working as a journalist, Ava thinks her life is finally where it should be. She is working toward a promotion, has a great family, and a few amazing friends. What more could a girl want? Just when Ava comes to a calming sense of closure in her life, her past reappears in the form of the Hunks in Uniform calendar. Will Ava’s feelings for this fearless firefighter resurface against her better judgment? Or will Ava try to forget the one person she ever really loved?</div>
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Gavin Sawyer is a Chicago firefighter who is stopping many women’s hearts as a model for the Hunks in Uniform calendar. Gavin only tried out for the calendar because of her—the one person who knew he was worthy of such prestige. He knew how much she wanted him to do it, but then she was gone. Without a warning, Ava left Gavin behind with a broken heart and bruised ego. He loved her, but she ran. One night separated them forever. Now, five years later, Gavin will stop at nothing to win her back. A chance encounter with Ava sets his heart on fire and proves that old feelings really do die hard.</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Come on,” Gavin said as he pulled her over to a group of people gathered around two men singing “Imagine” by John Lennon. Ava turned to Gavin with a look of shock. He remembered. She had told him in conversation the week before that she loved classic rock, especially The Beatles. She also told him that if she ever had a daughter, she would name her Lennon. Thinking back on it, Ava was surprised Gavin asked her out after that comment. Ava held Gavin’s bicep and laid her head against his arm. She closed her eyes and listened to the two men sing one of her favorite songs. At one point, she began to sway, and she felt Gavin pull her into his body. It felt right being with him. Their bodies fit together perfectly, and she didn’t want to break contact with him. Fire was shooting through her veins, and she couldn’t believe that someone’s touch could do this to her. When the two men were done, the crowd erupted in a loud applause. Ava didn’t notice, but she had been crying. That song always did it to her.<br />
“Are you OK, Ava?” Gavin asked as he wiped a tear with the pad of his thumb.<br />
“I’m fine, Gavin. That is my favorite song, and I always get emotional when I listen to it. That was amazing. Thank you.”<br />
“Of course, but you haven’t seen the best part.” Gavin pulled her through the crowd, and in the middle of the circle was a huge peace sign made out of stone with the word “Imagine” in the middle. Along the outside of the peace sign was a bunch of different flowers outlining it. This truly was amazing. Ava could only imagine what John Lennon would’ve been capable of had he been alive today.<br />
Ava looked at Gavin and reached up on her tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Gavin. This has been the best date ever.”<br />
Gavin held Ava in his arms and kissed the top of her forehead. “So, could we add this to the list of things that you like?”<br />
Ava laughed into his chest. “Yes, Gavin, we can.”<br />
The next moment happened so quickly Ava didn’t even realize what was going on. Gavin dipped Ava back and planted a sweet kiss on her lips. Thankfully, Ava didn’t scream when it happened, because the kiss probably wouldn’t have been as amazing. Gavin’s lips were so soft against hers, and they tasted like mint and lemons. Ava cupped her hands behind his head and opened her mouth so Gavin could deepen the kiss. Gavin’s hand was on Ava’s lower back, and the other was behind her head. They continued their kiss, dancing with their tongues. They would’ve kept kissing if it weren’t for the applause and whistles they heard around them. They broke their kiss, and Ava buried her head in Gavin’s chest once again.<br />
“Good job, man!”<br />
“Get a room!”<br />
Gavin just waved to everyone, and Ava pulled him toward the street.<br />
“Oh my god. That was so embarrassing,” Ava said with a slight blush in her cheeks.<br />
“Was it really that bad kissing me?” Gavin asked with his hand over his heart, faking insult.<br />
“No, the kiss was amazing. I have never done anything like that in public before.”<br />
Gavin pulled Ava closer. “Good. I like that I was able to share that with you. But, I promise, Ava, the next time I kiss you will be behind closed doors, and I will not stop there.”<br />
Ava’s cheeks burned, and she knew she was red. The thought of Gavin’s lips on hers again was causing a stir in her belly. She wasn’t the type of girl to sleep with someone on the first date, but she could make an exception for someone who made it the best date she’d ever had.<br />
If this date gave Ava any clue as to how their relationship would be, Ava was going to be one lucky girl.<br />
<br />
© Ashli Rose, Hearts on Fire 2014</blockquote>
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Ashli Rose is the author of the new novel Hearts on Fire in the Hearts on Fire Series.</div>
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A Jersey girl born and raised, Ashli lives in Bergen county with her husband Patrick and two year old daughter, Laila. She loves spending time with her family, watching teen shows(She’s a sucker for PLL and Teen Wolf), taking pictures of her daughter, and shopping for shoes that she will never have enough money to buy. Ashli is obsessed with all things Michael Kors and would purchase all of his bags if she could.</div>
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Ashli graduated with a BA in English from NJCU and during the day she is a Pre-K teacher to 30 energetic four and five year olds. Between them and her two year old it's a miracle that Ashli found the time to write this book. It has always been a dream of Ashli’s to write a book, it wasn't until the New Year that she decided to make that dream a reality. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-22302511817680012482014-08-19T03:56:00.000-07:002014-08-19T03:56:01.466-07:00Blog Tour: The Fragile Fall by Kristy Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've destroyed everything in my life and now I'm left with nothing. </div>
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Alone and scared. </div>
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Broken and shattered.</div>
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But I’ve found a way to deal with it. </div>
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Instead of all the pain being on the inside, I make the outside ache too. Anything to make it easier to breathe.</div>
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Until one beautiful morning when I look outside and see her.</div>
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She tries to help me…</div>
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But I’m lost.</div>
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And I'm not sure I can ever be found</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
August was winding down. School had started and I was spending some time with Will and Jax before my night class.<br />
<br />
Well, that had been the plan.<br />
<br />
Jax ended up leaving early to go hang out with his girlfriend, which left me alone with Will, something I avoided at all costs. I couldn’t fight my feelings if I were alone with him. He had offered to leave with Jax, but it wasn’t his fault that I couldn’t control my feelings, so instead, I sat by the pool while Will swam laps. I loved watching the way his muscles flexed under his skin. I could watch him move all day.<br />
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I felt like I was baking in the sun, so I moved to the side of the pool, dangling my feet in the water. I didn’t want to disturb Will, so I bent over and cupped some water in my hand, then rubbed it over my skin to cool off. Pouring some water over my neck and back, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the cool water against my hot skin. When my eyes opened, Will was standing in the middle of the pool, staring at me. His eyes were heated as he watched the water drip down my skin. I bit my lip, not wanting to break his trance. I liked the way his eyes felt on me. I liked that I didn’t have to pretend that I didn’t want him.<br />
<br />
“Hot?” he asked. His voice was huskier, sexier.<br />
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“Yeah, a little.” He swam over to the side of the pool and put his hands on my thighs. My breath caught in my throat.<br />
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His eyes never left mine as he rubbed his thumbs over my skin. “I could help you cool off.”<br />
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“Oh, yeah?” I asked breathlessly. I didn’t recognize my own voice.<br />
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His hands moved further up my thighs until they were on my hips. He moved me closer to him until he was standing between my parted thighs. “Yeah.”<br />
<br />
Our eyes never left each other. Chills raced over my skin even though the sun was intense, but when his hands moved behind me, I realized what he was trying to do.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“No, no, no!” I squealed, attempting to get out of his grip. He overpowered me and threw me in the pool. I resurfaced, spitting and wiping water from my eyes. Will smirked as I tried to swim away, but he caught me and pulled me closer, tucking a strand of hair over my shoulder. My entire body was pressed up against his. I could feel his breath skating over my skin … his heart pounding … his muscles moving…<br />
<br />
It took my breath away.<br />
<br />
He brushed more hair out of my face and ran a finger down my cheek. “Are you cooled off?” I nodded and leaned closer to him, wanting to curl up in his arms and never leave. “Good.”<br />
<br />
His eyes studied my lips as they parted. I wondered if he would kiss me. I wanted him to. God, I wanted him to kiss me so badly it had become a physical ache. His arms tightened around me and I found it harder to breathe. I was dizzy with the closeness of Will and how incredible it felt to be in his arms. I had never felt this way before.<br />
<br />
I didn’t want it to end.<br />
<br />
The sliding glass door opened, pulling Will and me out of our trance. Jax and his girlfriend Lindsey stood on the deck. Lindsey was smirking, but Jax had his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrow raised, a slight scowl on his lips. Will dropped his arms and moved away. I missed him immediately. I wanted to move closer to him and tell Jax to leave, but I couldn’t.<br />
<br />
I had to be strong.</blockquote>
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From the time she was old enough to form words into sentences, Kristy Love has been writing stories. She attended La Roche College and graduated with a Bachelor's Degree in Professional Writing. When she's not writing, Kristy can be found with her nose stuck in a book or spending time with her family and friends.</div>
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She lives with her husband and two girls in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-31748391311043471452014-08-14T03:53:00.000-07:002014-08-14T03:53:03.889-07:00Blog Tour: Hope Over Fear by J.A. DeRouen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today is the day – the day that the man I love marries someone else. I don’t deserve pity or sympathy. I’ve made my bed. I left Mason and ripped his heart to pieces as I ran away. The guilt and sorrow consume me, threatening to choke me everyday.</div>
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But today is a new beginning. Today is the day I will wake up with a renewed resolve and determination to do better … to be better … to be worthy. My name is Sara Preston, and this is my story about what happens after.</div>
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Hope Over Fear can be read as a stand alone novel.<br />
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"The fact is, Sara, I don’t think I can let you walk away.”</div>
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He reaches around and wraps my hair around his fist, then gently pulls, exposing my neck. My breath is coming in short bursts, and I fight with my body to appear calm and in control. His nose trails delicately across my cheek, down my neck, and over my collarbone. He gently nips at the base of my neck, and my body shudders involuntarily. He kisses hungrily up the side of my neck until he reaches my ear.</div>
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“Just give me a chance. I promise you won’t regret it, beautiful girl,” he whispers. He shifts back just far enough to look into my eyes. And I’m lost. Lost in the hunger and desire I see reflecting back at me.</div>
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Lowering his head toward me, he sucks my bottom lip, and I grasp his forearms tightly for balance. There’s nothing tentative about his approach. He’s self-assured, knows what he wants, and takes it. I fucking love that. He coaxes my lips open with his tongue and devours me. As our tongues slide hungrily against each other, he pulls me even closer to him and pushes his way between my legs. Adam kisses like he’s starving, and I’m all too happy to provide.</div>
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He ends the kiss way too soon for my liking. We stay intertwined and breathless for a few moments, and I love that I hold power over him like he does over me. He looks up at me with a lazy smirk, and it feels like the wind has been knocked out of me. He’s stunning, and I can’t believe he’s interested in someone like me.</div>
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J.A. Derouen resides in South Louisiana where she lives with her husband, son (aptly nicknamed "The Professor"), and her furry friend, Scout. She has earned bachelor’s degrees in psychology and nursing. When she's not writing or inhaling romance novels by the stack, she works as a women's health nurse. She’s been an avid reader and daydreamer since childhood, and she's never stopped turning the page to get to the next happily ever after.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-66467193868653746612014-08-11T07:56:00.000-07:002014-08-11T07:56:28.806-07:00Blog Tour: Sizzle by Sarah O'Rourke<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Molly Ramsey lives a nice, normal life. Her cat, her dog, and her two best friends are more than enough for her, thank you very much. Working for her brother’s best friend helps pay the bills, even though she often wants to strangle the sizzling-hot egomaniac with his own outrageously expensive tie! </div>
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William “Devil” Delancy built his vast empire through sheer determination and corporate takeover. The millionaire always gets what he wants.from women to companies and all points in between. And when he is done with them, he discards them without another thought. So when his sainted, dying grandmother voices her concern about his lack of a wife, he does what he knows best: he takes what he wants! And it just so happens that the woman nearest and dearest to him is his own assistant – the beautiful Molly. </div>
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What happens when the Devil asks you to pay your dues? Molly Ramsey is just about to find out! Join this racy, rollicking romantic comedy and see just how far the Devil can push the unsinkable Molly before she sets both their worlds on fire? Romantica, erotica, humor, comedy and much more in this 110,000+ word standalone.</div>
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Fifteen minutes later, the whole sordid mess had been spilled between them and both her friends stared at Molly with a mixture of horror, amusement and curiosity. “Well, say something!” Molly yelled when neither of them said a word. “You’re supposed to be my sounding board, ladies!”<br />
“You’re engaged,” Sami managed to choke.<br />
“To the Devil,” Viv sputtered.<br />
“It could be worse, right?” Molly questioned, looking from one woman to the other and back again. “I mean, he’s not so awful, is he?”<br />
“He’s the Devil,” Vivian breathed, her brown eyes huge on her pixie face.<br />
“That’s not helpful, Viv,” Molly huffed, holding her bottle tucked tightly between her breasts as she sat cross-legged on the middle of her couch. “His nickname is Devil. He’s not really Satan incarnate.”<br />
“I’m gonna need a hit off that vodka bottle before we go any further,” Sami warned, holding out her hand and wriggling her fingers.<br />
“You’ll have to wrest it from my cold dead hands,” Molly replied, tightening her grip on the mostly gone liquor as she shook her head, red hair flying wildly.<br />
“You hold her down and I’ll pry it out of her hand,” Vivian said under her breath, only half joking as she eyed Molly.<br />
Snorting, Sami ran a hand through her naturally wavy locks. “Well, let’s look on the bright side. At least he’s got the whole eye candy thing going on for him. You may have to look into the face of evil every morning across the breakfast table, but the view will be pretty.”<br />
“What am I going to do?” Molly groaned, leaning her head back against the cushion as the throbbing in her head increased.<br />
Shaking off her shock, Viv straightened in her chair. “Well, first off, don’t panic. Devil can’t actually make you marry him.”<br />
“No, but he can coerce the hell out of her,” Sami argued, frowning at Vivian. “I mean, you heard her, Viv. He’s holding his dying grandmother over her head, for crying out loud.”<br />
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“Devil!” Molly squealed, gripping his neck as he hauled her into his arms and turned toward the stairs. “What are you doing?”</div>
“If you think that I’m going to make love to you for the first time on the living room sofa, you have drastically underestimated me,” he replied, taking the steps two at a time.<br />
Molly gripped his shoulders as he carried her like she weighed nothing more than a bag of flour. Swallowing hard as her heartbeat sped up, she suddenly realized that this was really happening between them. Dozens of doubts flooded her mind, but every single one of them fled as he walked into his spacious bedroom and placed her in the center of his huge bed.<br />
Licking her lips as she watched him kick off his shoes and push his slacks down over his lean hips, she caught her breath. His body was ripped perfection. Toned well muscled arms, hard lickable six pack, firm thighs… and the longest, thickest cock she’d ever seen in her life. Letting her eyes drift over him again, she blinked as she noticed a small tattoo just above his hip. “You’ve got a tat?” she asked, sitting up on the bed so that she could caress the small Celtic cross that he had on his skin. “Straight laced, serious Devil Delancy did something daring?” she teased, peeking up at him through her lowered lashes.<br />
Chuckling, he brushed his fingers against her jaw as her fingertips traced the cross on his hip. “One very drunken night in college a very long time ago.”<br />
“It’s pretty,” she praised, leaning into his hand as she noticed his bobbing cock close to her lips.<br />
Following her gaze, his lips curved wickedly. “I really hope you’re talking about the tat and not my dick, sweetheart.”<br />
“Hmmmm,” she hummed, pressing a finger to her lips as she considered both.<br />
“You are truly hell on a man’s confidence, Molly Ramsey,” he growled, gazing down at her as she smiled up at him.<br />
“As far as I know, confidence has never been an attribute you lacked,” Molly replied with a giggle, lifting one hand to caress him again. “But if you really need to have your ego stroked, I’ll do my best to comply,” she promised softly. His low groan of approval emboldened her and she slowly brought him to her mouth, brushing her lips lightly against the flushed head of his cock. Inhaling deeply, she gazed at his sizeable arousal and shivered as she thought about him filling her. Darting her tongue out to sweep against his tip, she heard his harsh indrawn breath.</blockquote>
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Sarah O’Rourke is actually two besties who live three states apart and write at all hours of the day and night! Born and raised in the Southern United States, they are overly attached to their one-click accounts, can’t make it through the day without copious doses of caffeine, and spend way too much time on the phone with each other. Between them, they have four children and eighteen years of marriage...one to a super soldier and the other to egomaniac engineer. They hate empty chocolate wrappers and writer’s block, love to talk to readers...and by the way, they write about strong, kick-ass women and hot alpha heroes!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-77804961758929541052014-08-11T06:32:00.000-07:002014-08-11T06:32:02.200-07:00Cover Reveal: Broken Hearted by C.H. Carter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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September 11, 2014</h2>
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Detective Faith Julies sets out to find the killer of her parents after fourteen years. Falling in love with her partner Trey Branson was inevitable but after believing Trey has been unfaithful, Faith is left shattered.</div>
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Cash O'Connor, the man who broke her heart from the past comes strolling back into her life. She finds herself loving two men, but trusting neither.</div>
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Will she ever put the pieces of her heart back together? </div>
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Three hearts at stake. Faith can only choose one. Who will be left broken hearted?</div>
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Trey touched her shoulder as he turned her over. “I thought I knew love until you came along Faith. You have the body of a goddess and you consume me with passion. I need all of you, Faith. All of you.” His fingers slid down her neck, as he held her to him softly. While his mouth hungrily found hers, his hands began to explore her already wanton body.</div>
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C.H. Carter is a Comtempory Romance author who is composing a series called Chicago Hearts. Her first novel in this series is Broken Hearted. When she’s not creating her love scenes or intriguing us with her murder mysteries, she’s writing short stories for her first children's book.</div>
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C.H. Carter is a wife of thirty-three years and a mother of four who lives in a small rural community in Southern Indiana. She enjoys reading, writing, and being with her beautiful grandchildren.When C.H. Carter isn’t writing, she has been providing love and care for her invalid mother for the past twenty years and working full time. She has been inspired to write all of her life, however, had to put it off because motherhood, family, and making a living had to come first. Now she is at a point in her life where she is going to pursue her dreams.</div>
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<strong>HOSTED BY:</strong></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-27683975995773758632014-08-11T05:45:00.003-07:002014-08-11T05:45:30.836-07:00Release Day: American Honey Anthology<a href="http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/AM_Blitz.jpg"><img alt="AM_Blitz" class="wp-image-4353 aligncenter" src="http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/AM_Blitz-1024x774.jpg" height="427" width="565" /></a>
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<h1 style="text-align: center;">
Today is the release day blitz for AMERICAN HONEY. This is an anthology featuring stories from 10 bestselling authors.</h1>
<a href="http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/AmericanHoney.jpg"><img alt="AmericanHoney" class="wp-image-4354 aligncenter" src="http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/AmericanHoney-682x1024.jpg" height="771" width="514" /></a>
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<strong>FULL LIST OF THE STORIES INSIDE THE ANTHOLOGY </strong></h2>
<strong>
</strong>
<strong>WALK ME DOWN by H.J. Bellus</strong>
The summer that saved Tess. A hot country romance.
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<strong>DIRT ROAD SUMMER by Ashley Johnson </strong>
Unexpected hometown love in the summer.
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<strong>BEING NEIGHBORLY by Carey Heywood</strong>
Southern boy tries not to fall for his city girl neighbor
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<strong>ONE SOUTHERN NIGHT by Marissa Carmel</strong>
Star quarterback and sassy city girl blow the whistle on the fifty yard line.
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<strong>TANGLED VINES by Melissa Collins</strong>
A story of twists and turns all tangled together on a vineyard. Owen and Elle learn about each other as they navigate their way through a new business partnership.
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<strong>THE REEDUCATION OF SAVANNAH MCGUIRE by Heidi McLaughlin</strong>
Southern boy reeducates his childhood best friend on life, love and freedom.
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<strong>FINDING OURS by Megan Smith</strong>
Two people destined to be in love, forbidden to be together.
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<strong>REMEMBER TONIGHT by Chelsea Landon</strong>
Farmers daughter shows a champion bull rider the ride of his life
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<strong>PLAY IT AGAIN by Scarlett Metal</strong>
City girl falls for small town boy. Can their relationship survive their differences?
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<strong>THE STORM by Jennifer Foor</strong>
One woman
One man
An empty hotel
A summer storm
One night they'll never forget.
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<strong>AUTHOR LINKS: </strong></h2>
<strong>Heidi McLaughlin:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://heidimclaughlin.com/">http://heidimclaughlin.com/</a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/HeidiMcLaughlinAuthor%20">https://www.facebook.com/HeidiMcLaughlinAuthor </a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/HeidiJoVT">https://twitter.com/HeidiJoVT</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6568302.Heidi_McLaughlin%20">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6568302.Heidi_McLaughlin </a>
<strong>Jennifer Foor:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://www.jenniferfoor.com/">http://www.jenniferfoor.com/</a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JenniferFoorAuthor">https://www.facebook.com/JenniferFoorAuthor</a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/jennyfoor">https://twitter.com/jennyfoor</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5763676.Jennifer_Foor">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5763676.Jennifer_Foor</a>
<strong>Carey Heywood:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://www.careyheywood.com/">http://www.careyheywood.com/</a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CareyHeywoodAuthor%20">https://www.facebook.com/CareyHeywoodAuthor </a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/Careylolo">https://twitter.com/Careylolo</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6535777.Carey_Heywood">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6535777.Carey_Heywood</a>
<strong>Melissa Collins:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://melissacollinsauthor.com/%20">http://melissacollinsauthor.com/ </a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MelissaCollins.Author%20">https://www.facebook.com/MelissaCollins.Author </a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/MCollinsAuthor%20">https://twitter.com/MCollinsAuthor </a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5023189.Melissa_Collins%20">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5023189.Melissa_Collins </a>
<strong>Chelsea Landon:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://chelsealandon.com/">http://chelsealandon.com/</a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/chelsealandon13">https://www.facebook.com/chelsealandon13</a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/chelsea_landon">https://twitter.com/chelsea_landon</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7814153.Chelsea_Landon">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7814153.Chelsea_Landon</a>
<strong>H.J. Bellus:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://hjbellus.blogspot.com/">http://hjbellus.blogspot.com/</a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorHjBellus">https://www.facebook.com/AuthorHjBellus</a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/hjbellus">https://twitter.com/hjbellus</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7079478.H_J_Bellus">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7079478.H_J_Bellus</a>
<strong>Scarlett Metal:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://scarlettmetalauthor.blogspot.com/">http://scarlettmetalauthor.blogspot.com/</a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/scarlettmetalauthor">https://www.facebook.com/scarlettmetalauthor</a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/scarlettmetal">https://twitter.com/scarlettmetal</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6983412.Scarlett_Metal">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6983412.Scarlett_Metal</a>
<strong>Marissa Carmel:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://www.marissacarmel.com/">http://www.marissacarmel.com/</a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authormarissacarmel">https://www.facebook.com/authormarissacarmel</a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/marissacarmel">https://twitter.com/marissacarmel</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5211765.Marissa_Carmel">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5211765.Marissa_Carmel</a>
<strong>Ashley Johnson:</strong>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/amjohnson84">https://www.facebook.com/amjohnson84</a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/ashmarie84">https://twitter.com/ashmarie84</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6878724.Ashley_Johnson">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6878724.Ashley_Johnson</a>
<strong>Megan Smith:</strong>
Website: <a href="http://www.authormegansmith.com/">http://www.authormegansmith.com/</a>
Facebook: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/www.facebook.com/authormegansmith">www.facebook.com/authormegansmith</a>
Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/AuthorMSmith">https://twitter.com/AuthorMSmith</a>
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6959231.Megan_Smith">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6959231.Megan_Smith</a>
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<h1 style="text-align: center;">
<b>BOOK BUY LINKS: </b></h1>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">
<b></b>Amazon: <a href="http://amzn.to/1kHeqTm" target="_blank">http://amzn.to/1kHeqTm</a></h1>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">
iTunes: <a href="http://bit.ly/1pacG4M" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/1pacG4M</a></h1>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-8503583224631477882014-08-08T05:13:00.003-07:002014-08-08T05:13:20.185-07:00Blog Tour: The Bondage Club by Alexandrea Weis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://swoonworthybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Synopsis.png"><img alt="Synopsis" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6255" src="http://swoonworthybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Synopsis.png" height="100" width="216" /></a></div>
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A man looking for a new beginning</div>
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Hunter Donovan is a writer who dreamed of penning the great American novel but settled for a job running the family business, Donovan Books. Trapped publishing other people’s stories, Hunter buries his frustrations in vodka and an endless parade of one-night stands. </div>
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A woman with a secret</div>
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Cary Anderson is the perky, petite, and staunchly determined editor who is well versed in erotica fiction. But Cary has a kinky side that she is struggling to keep hidden from the world.</div>
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Fed up with dwindling sales, Hunter hopes to breathe new life into his publishing house by breaking into the risqué world of erotica. He hires Cary to rescue his company and she is keen to show her new boss everything she knows. But what starts out as a lesson in sexual fiction turns into an unexpected roller coaster ride of disastrous romantic encounters. And just when Cary helps stir Hunter’s creative voice, he uncovers the truth about her wicked ways. </div>
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Some ties that bind can cut right to the heart in…The Bondage Club.</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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The veil of evening was reaching across his office window when Hunter’s cell phone on the side of his desk rang. Checking the caller ID, he frowned when he saw that the number was blocked.</div>
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“This is Hunter Donovan,” he barked into the phone.</div>
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“Do you always answer the phone in such a cheerful manner?” a seductive female voice reprimanded.</div>
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“That depends on who this is.”</div>
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“Cary told me of your little meeting today, and your interest in my next book. You don’t waste any time do you?”</div>
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Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. “Well, well, Ms. Slut. Nice to hear your voice again. I hope your time at the Book Expo was worthwhile.”</div>
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“You were the highlight of my trip, Mr. Donovan.”</div>
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Hunter smiled as he sat back in his creaky desk chair. “I’m so glad. I was beginning to think you didn’t like me.”</div>
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“Have you ever met a woman who didn’t like you?”</div>
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The question made Hunter chuckle. “Which answer will get me your next book, Ms. Slut?”</div>
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A high-pitched tinkling laugh came through the speaker of his iPhone, making Hunter’s stomach flutter ever so lightly. “I like a man who doesn’t waste time with sweet talk. Check your email. I just sent you the manuscript. It’s called The Bondage Club, and if you’re interested, e-mail me a contract, and I will look it over.”</div>
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“Can I ask what it’s about? I mean, with a title like that I can guess, but….” His voice faded as his curiosity rose.</div>
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“There are many different kinds of bondage, Mr. Donovan, that don’t involve ropes, chains, or even handcuffs.”</div>
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Hunter gaped at his cell phone. “I don’t get it.”</div>
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“Love can be a form of bondage,” she explained. “We can get tied to someone just as easily as we can be tied up by someone. The book is about bondage in all of its forms.”</div>
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“Then I look forward to reading it.” He paused as he thought of an idea. “But why not come to my office? We can discuss the details of the contract over lunch,” he pursued with a hint of insistence in his voice.</div>
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“I don’t think so. Lunch with you would be dangerous.”</div>
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Hunter coyly smiled. “For which one of us, Ms. Slut?”</div>
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“I’m not your type, Mr. Donovan.”</div>
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Hunter’s body rippled with the hint of a challenge. “You never know; if Donovan Books handles your novel, we may grow on each other.”</div>
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“I hope not. Getting involved with the man who publishes my book would complicate matters. I’m also a very demanding author. I might get on your nerves after a time.”</div>
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“I have a lot of demanding authors. You would fit right in.”</div>
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“Do you usually try and date your authors, or will I be the first?”</div>
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He fingered a corner of the manuscript open on the desk before him as his imagination began to wander. “You would be the first. I never date clients.”</div>
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“I heard a nasty little rumor to the contrary, about your brother and Monique Delome. They were engaged and then she up and married some Texas oil man. Lucky girl.”</div>
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“Lucky to be rid of my brother,” Hunter returned, pushing the manuscript in front of him to the side.</div>
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“Oh, do I detect a note of sibling rivalry, Mr. Donovan?”</div>
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He leaned back in his chair and turned his eyes to his arched window. “Rivalry, nah. More like deep-seated hatred. And if I’m going to bare my soul to you, you should start calling me, Hunter.”</div>
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“Let me guess, Hunter.” Her voice was throaty and delicious, spurring on his desire. “He stole your Legos when you were six and you have never forgiven him.”</div>
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Hunter ran his hand over his face, feeling the conversation was getting a little too personal. “Never mind my brother. Let’s talk about you.”</div>
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“I make it a practice never to talk about myself. The less people know about me, the better.”</div>
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“I don’t agree, Ms. Sl….” Hunter crinkled his brow. “What else can I call you? Ms. Slut is too—”</div>
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“Call me Smuttie, if you like.”</div>
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“Smuttie…don’t you have a real name?”</div>
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“Smuttie is all you need to know.” The sound of voices in the background broke in. “Let me know what you think of my manuscript, Hunter. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” Then the line went dead.</div>
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Alexandrea Weis is an advanced practice registered nurse who was born and raised in New Orleans. Having been brought up in the motion picture industry, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her award-winning novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story memorable. A permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries, Weis rescues orphaned and injured wildlife. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-77831538019972603442014-08-08T04:00:00.000-07:002014-08-08T04:00:03.273-07:00Release: Paranormal Transmissions - Episode 1:1 by Bella Roccaforte<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Welcome to Paranormal Transmissions! You are about to embark on the first episode of a novel-length serial--guaranteed cliffhanger-free--encompassing approximately 22,000 words of thrilling paranormal suspense (with a hefty side of humor). Buckle up and get ready to fly!</div>
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In Episode I: </div>
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Carl and McNab are paranormal investigators. Carl, a man of principle, has the best of intentions. His job is to keep paranormal beings under cover and out of mischief. McNab--young, impetuous, devil-may-care--will add his talents to Carl’s effort...as long as he gets paid.</div>
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McNab has a lot to learn--and a lot of growing up to do. But he does come up with a great idea to finance Carl’s exploits--a weekly reality program showcasing paranormal phenomena. To the delight of their cable TV audience, McNab and Carl wade through the seamy, murky waters of the Underside world, helping those in need, saving the blissfully unaware from the ravages of evil, and attempting to redeem their own mistakes--all without causing widespread panic! </div>
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In this first episode we join our heroes in the desert of Mexico trying to bury the body of a chupacabre--and McNab learns his lesson the hard way. After the chaos subsides, Carl notices some suspicious activity in a small North Carolina town--several suicides followed by an odd wave of philanthropy. Both investigators agree--all fingers point to a “pusher.” But what they find catches them both off guard. </div>
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Those readers familiar with Bella Roccaforte’s INK: series will recognize Carl and McNab as favorite characters, but all readers will love their early exploits, which take place long before the INK: series begins. Come and find out what happened before McNab met Shay in Seattle!</div>
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Bella's motto has always been that you can choose to watch life pass you by or your can be the one spinning the world. You have to get out and live, life won't come to you!</div>
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Bella has always seen things in the world with a different view and has been an avid story-teller. She is enjoying putting her crazy musings into print for others to enjoy.</div>
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To her, one of the most exciting parts of writing is getting a chance to interact with readers. It is truly her hope that readers will reach out and tell her what they like and even don't like about her stories. She's looking forward to a relationship with the readers to better write stories they will love.</div>
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Please feel free to connect with her via Facebook, Twitter, Email or her website!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-67490320291973387122014-08-07T07:31:00.002-07:002014-08-07T07:31:17.867-07:00Blog Tour: Review, Teaser & giveaway: The Luckiest by Wendy Owens<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Once upon a time Mackenzie Phillips thought she’d found her
happily</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">ever after. She had married her high school
sweetheart and had started</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">her perfect family. But one tragic night Mac’s
perfect life was ripped</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">away from her, leaving her beautiful fairy tale
existence in ruins.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">When everything worth living for is suddenly
taken from you, how do</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">you keep going? People told her how lucky she
was just to be alive</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">after that night, but she didn’t agree.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">Years passed with Mac living in a fog, until
another unfortunate turn</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">of events placed her world on its head once
again. Now, still carrying</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">the tender wounds of her past, this widow has to
face the realities of</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">life again.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">Broken and truly alone, she must find work. In
walks her new employer,</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Dean Johnson, a guy who is just broken enough
himself, that she thinks</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">he might actually be able to understand her. But
Mac soon discovers</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">that that bond with Dean may instead force her
to face demons she</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">isn’t yet ready to deal with.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">**Contains mature material including language
and sex<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Review<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Let’s discuss the level of emotion that
just the prologue caused? I mean, holy crap. This is quite possibly the most
emotional beginning of a book I have read in a long while. But it was so good
and right away I was able to sympathize with the character. I was able to “meet
her where she was.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">But right away we see Mac get out of her
shell and start to live her life. We meet Dean and, quite frankly, he wasn’t
really all that nice in the beginning. But they both begin to change and grow,
but obviously have some drawbacks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">This story took me on a roller coaster of
emotions. I found that I fell for Dean, I continued to feel for Mac, and I
really loved Christian!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Bravo!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">{em}<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">About the Author<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #181818; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Wendy Owens is a writer, born in the small college town,
Oxford Ohio. After attending Miami University, Wendy went onto a career in the
visual arts. After several years of creating and selling her own artwork she
gave her first love, writing, a try. It’s become a passion ever since. Wendy
now happily spends her days writing the stories her characters guide her to
tell, admitting even she doesn’t always know where that might lead. Her first
series, The Guardians, is a YA fantasy series about angel and human hybrids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">Since then she has branched into NA Contemporary
Romance and released titles to include Stubborn Love, Only In Dreams, and Do
Anything. Her next romance, The Luckiest is scheduled to be released in July
2014.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">When she’s not writing, this dog lover can be
found spending time with her tech geek husband, their three amazing kids, and
two pups. She loves to cook and is a film fanatic.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-81904040518588445232014-08-06T04:58:00.000-07:002014-08-06T04:58:03.873-07:00Blog Tour: Hard as Stone by Sarah O'Rourke<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Nestled in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains, the beautiful town of Paradise is the perfect place to raise a family, have dinner at the local diner...and chase a ruthless killer.</div>
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Jacob Stone is an undercover DEA Agent dead-set on getting vengeance for his sister’s death. When his sources tell him that the drug dealer he’s been searching for will soon be setting up a distribution center in the seemingly innocent town of Paradise, he moves in for the kill.</div>
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What Jake wasn’t counting on, however, was falling in love with gorgeous Harmony McKinnon – the ex-wife of the man he was determined to eliminate.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Harmony McKinnon never believed she’d find love again....not after the horrors she lived through with her ex-husband. When she meets secretive Jacob Stone and soon falls in love, she never expected that her life would be in danger again...or that the man she’d come to trust would betray her. </div>
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Can Jake make Harmony understand his motives? Can Harmony trust him in spite of the past? Will they have their happily ever after? </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Not everything is as it seems in the sleepy, little town of Paradise, Tennessee!</div>
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Hard as Stone is the second book in the Passion in Paradise: The Men of the McKinnon Sisters Series, but is a stand-alone novel (165,000 words) that can be easily read without reading the first book.</div>
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Meeting Jake’s eyes as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Harmony felt her heart jump into her. He looked delicious. No, he was beyond delicious, she decided quickly with a slow blink of her eyes.<br />
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Jacob Stone was YUMMY with extra emphasis placed on the YUM. Completely freaking edible, her libido sang joyously as her girly parts did a happy little dance beneath her dress.</blockquote>
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Dressed in a fitted, collared black dress shirt that clung to his sides and his normal tight fitting jeans, he stood with his legs braced slightly apart, a bouquet of tulips clutched in one manly hand. Tonight, he’d traded the motorcycle boots for tan Justin boots, and he’d obviously shaved his handsome face, leaving only a shadow of his whiskers behind. Swallowing, she forced herself to smile and offer a low, breathless “Hi, Jake,” in greeting.</blockquote>
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She could feel his warm gaze caress her as his eyes slowly slid over her face and down her body. Her heartbeat noticeably shifted into overdrive when his hooded eyes seemed to stall over the low bodice covering her breasts before leisurely moving down her legs. Before she realized it, he’d moved to stand in front of her, and even with her standing in heels a step above him, he towered over her.</blockquote>
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Licking her lips quickly as she felt his wide palms reach out and grip her hips, pulling her toward him, she stumbled slightly. Bracing her hands against his solid chest, she caught herself against him, enjoying the feel of his muscles jumping beneath her fingertips.</blockquote>
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“You look beautiful.” His deep voice rumbled against her ear as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. “Glad you decided to let me cook for you tonight. I’d really hate sharing this view with anybody else,” he murmured for her ears alone. “With you in that dress, I’d be beating the men back with a stick and probably spend my night in Zeke’s lockup.”</blockquote>
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“I seriously doubt that.” Harmony laughed self-consciously even as she felt herself warm under the glow of his flattery. She wasn’t used to compliments like that. She’d had exactly one serious relationship, and it hadn’t exactly been filled with praise.<br />
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“You shouldn’t, darlin’. You’re gorgeous,” Jacob replied, taking a small step back and pulling her off the last step. “These are for you,” he stated, passing her the arrangement of long stemmed tulips.</blockquote>
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“Jake, you didn’t need to do that,” Harmony whispered, taking the flowers from him and running a finger over the delicate petals. She loved tulips. Now how did he ever know that?</blockquote>
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“When a man gets lucky enough to take a pretty woman like you out for the evening, then he damn well should show up with flowers, Harmony. If he doesn’t, you kick his ass to the curb.”</blockquote>
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Harmony’s fingers curled around the corded tendons in his shoulders, hanging on tightly as his fingertips trailed lower across her quivering abdomen just above the elastic band of her panties. “Jake, hurry” she begged when his fingers merely plucked at the elastic at the waist of her underwear, popping it against her hot skin.<br />
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“I feel like I’m unwrapping a gift that I waited my entire life to receive,” he whispered against her breast, nipping a turgid rosy nipple with his teeth and pulling a low whine from his woman’s throat. “Did you really think I wasn’t gonna savor every single minute of this, baby? You’ve kept me hard as stone for weeks, dreaming of having you underneath me in my bed. This isn’t gonna be a hurried little encounter that I’ll let you sweep under the rug after we’re done. Nah, I’m gonna take my sweet time and make damn sure you remember every second in my arms. I’m gonna love you so well that you won’t be able to think of anything but the next time you can crawl in my bed and feel my hands all over this gorgeous body again. I’m gonna make you crave me as much as I do you, Harmony.”</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Harmony panted against Jake’s neck as his dark words built a feverish need inside her. She could feel his calloused fingertips sliding down the crease of her thigh, hooking in the gusset of her panties and tugging firmly. She audibly gasped when she heard the thin material rip and tear. “You tore my panties off,” she choked, shocked by his ardor.<br />
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“Mmmmm, can’t eat your candy if it’s still in the wrapper, darlin’,” he returned, unworried by her stunned surprise at his action as he blew a heated breath against her stomach. Kissing a path across her belly, he nipped her hip before lifting the slick material he’d torn off her to his nose and deeply inhaling her heady feminine scent. “These panties are soaked with your cream, baby. A man could get high off a smell this sweet. I can’t wait to see how you taste.” </blockquote>
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Sarah O'Rourke is the alter ego of two best friends who have taken their passion for romantic fiction and erotica to the publishing world. Born and raised in the southern United States, one lives near Louisville, KY, while the other resides in Atlanta, Georgia. Neither is ever very far from a tall glass of sweet iced tea, their dog-eared copies of Gone With the Wind, or their Steel Magnolias DVDs!</div>
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Formerly an accountant and a chemist, they are now overworked, stay-at-home moms who adore their children, their husbands...and writing about love in every way possible!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-50518387805723433132014-08-05T05:27:00.001-07:002014-08-05T05:27:17.005-07:00Blog Tour: Between Heaven & Hell by Jacqui Nelson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On a trail full of danger, will he guide her to heaven or hell?</div>
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Fort Leavenworth, Kansas – 1850</div>
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Hannah knows one thing the moment she enters Fort Leavenworth—she's arrived in Hell. But inside is the means to a new life, a position as a scout on a wagon train bound for the Western Territories. All she has to do is convince the wagon master, Paden Callahan, she's the right person for the job.</div>
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After his wife was murdered by the Comanche, Paden let his work as a Texas Ranger consume him. Now he wants nothing more than to disappear into the West. Unfortunately, the one man he can't refuse has asked him to guide a wagon train full of tenderfoots across thousands of miles of Indian land. But Paden's greatest challenge turns out to be Hannah, a woman his heart won't allow him to ignore even though she was raised by an enemy he hates.</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Fort Leavenworth, Kansas—Spring 1850</i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Lord help her, for she had entered Hell. That Hannah had sought guidance from the God of her past made her loneliness increase tenfold. She should’ve prayed to Grandfather Spider.<br />
<br />
“Well, what’a we got here?” someone yelled from behind her. The voice was rough with malicious undertones.<br />
<br />
“Don’t reckon I know,” replied another man. “Though she be a purty lil’ yellow-haired thing.”<br />
<br />
“Maybe, but we’d hafta get them injun’ clothes off her to tell fer sure.”<br />
<br />
Hannah stiffened in her saddle but kept her buckskin-clad knees tight against White Cloud’s sides, urging him forward. She fought the need to tug down the frayed cuffs of her wool coat or touch the beads and feathers in her belt for comfort.<br />
<br />
Don’t react, she told herself. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t turn back.<br />
<br />
A mountain man, the size of a bear, spat a foul-smelling stream of brown chewing tobacco in front of White Cloud’s path. He sneered at Hannah with lips stretched over rotting teeth.<br />
<br />
Behind him on a saloon porch, a trio of dusty cowhands rose from their card game, waved their whiskey bottles at her and hollered, “Ooh-wee, lovey! Come on down from yer horse. Let us show you a good time.”<br />
<br />
Strident feminine laughter filled the air. Hannah’s gaze darted heavenward to discover a row of women dressed in corsets and short calico skirts. They leaned over the balcony railing, watching her with black-rimmed eyes full of disdain.<br />
<br />
If she ignored them, maybe they’d leave her alone. Or maybe coming to Fort Leavenworth hadn’t been such a good idea. She had no choice. She couldn’t turn back.</blockquote>
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Jacqui Nelson writes historical romantic adventures set in the American West and Victorian London. Jacqui's love for the Old West came from watching classic Western movies while growing up on a cattle farm. Her passion for Victorian London wasn't far behind and only increased when she worked in England and explored the nooks and crannies of London on her weekends. She now lives on the west coast of Canada where she works in a bookstore. She is a Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® winner and three-time finalist.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-90785590357304215052014-08-04T07:42:00.002-07:002014-08-04T07:42:30.415-07:00Blog Tour: Review and Giveaway: Good Karma by Donya Lynne<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; text-indent: 0in;">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Freestyle Script'; font-size: 18pt;">Bashful <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Karma</span> Mason has been too concerned with
college—and now work—to embrace her sexuality. Bullied as a child, she hides
behind an unremarkable wardrobe and relegates herself to the shadows. But when
her best friend convinces her to attend a charity benefit in Chicago wearing a
stunning red dress that catches the eye of every man in the room, she discovers
a surprising side to her personality. One that adores the spotlight but has no
idea how to handle the attention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Freestyle Script'; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br />
Mark Strong, a wealthy Chicago businessman, is brimming with confidence. He’s
in total control. Nothing—and no one—escapes his notice. However, Mark carries
a heavy, painful burden. After finding his fiancée with another man six years
ago, he’s erected a fortress around his heart, unwilling to let himself fall in
love again. But when enchanting <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Karma</span> snares
his gaze from across the room, he has no idea she will shatter his carefully
ordered life.<br />
<br />
What starts out as a casual flirtation takes a series of surprising turns as
Mark and <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Karma</span> embark on a
sensual journey destined by fate. Mark is driven to know <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Karma</span>, understand her…educate her, and <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Karma</span> is his willing student, eager to
experience the pleasure he promises. But when the student becomes the teacher,
Mark has to make a choice between taking another chance on love or a future
alone.</span><span style="background-color: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Review<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Let’s just say, this story didn’t waste
any time capturing my attention. Right away this story dove in and let us get
to know both Karma and Mark. We started to understand their little quirks and
what shaped them. Consisntently throughout the story, I felt as if we got to
know the characters more and on a deeper level. We were able to watch Karma
grow and discover who she is. We watched her self-esteem grown and her
confidence take on new levels. It was quite interesting to see how her
interactions with men changed. And Mark – well, watching him was an experience,
too. He went from shying off from relationships to becoming more open to the
opportunity. And then… well… yea. Now we have to wait and see what happens! I’m
very eager to see how book 2 goes and find out how their relationship changes
and how their growth impacts that! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">{em}<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">About the Author</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Donya Lynne is the author of the award winning
All the King's Men Series. Making her home in a wooded suburb north of
Indianapolis with her husband, Donya has lived in Indiana most of her life and
knew at a young age that she was destined to be a writer. She started writing
poetry in grade school and won her first short story contest in fourth grade.
In junior high, she began writing romantic stories for her friends, and by her
sophomore year, they had dubbed her</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;"> <i><span style="background: white;">Most Likely to Become a Romance Novelist</span></i><span style="background: white;">. In 2012, she made that dream come true by publishing
her first two novels and two novellas. Donya has many more novels and novellas
planned for years to come.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Stalk Her<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-88731630592264319552014-08-04T04:00:00.001-07:002014-08-04T04:00:06.692-07:00Blog Tour: Distant Desires by Cambria Hebert<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>An erotic tale from beyond the stars</i></div>
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Sophie Perez has never believed the stuff she reads online about possible life in space. Aliens are for the movies, for the weirdoes, and they most definitely are not real.</div>
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One night on the way home from a late shift at work, her car breaks down. Stranded on the side of a country road, with a dead cell phone, doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. </div>
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Until strange neon lights appear in the sky. She thinks it is her imagination.</div>
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When an inexplicable circular ship appears overhead, she can’t deny what’s clearly right in front of her. Especially when moments later, she’s taken onto the ship, a human hostage among those who are most definitely not human.</div>
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About to become a human guinea pig, possibly worse, the last thing she ever expects is to like the things these otherworldly beings subject her to. In fact, it is unlike anything she’s ever experienced.</div>
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Will Sophie find her way back to her planet, or will she beg to stay where her pleasure is literally out of this world?</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22466834-distant-desires?from_search=true" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="add-to-goodreads-button31" class="aligncenter" src="http://swoonworthybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/add-to-goodreads-button31.png" height="45" width="134" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h3>
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: x-large;"><b>Distant Desires Part 1</b></span></h3>
</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h3>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Distant Desires Part 2</span></span></h3>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h3>
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: x-large;"><b>Distant Desires Part 3</b></span></h3>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Distant Desires Excerpt #1</b></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: left;">
The heat from his fingers seared through the back of my shirt. I wondered if his handprint would permanently scar my skin. He used his body almost like a shield, guiding me back down onto the couch, this time sitting much closer to me.</div>
"I know this is a lot, but try not to overreact."<br />
I laughed.<br />
His hand lay between us. I could feel his fingers against my thigh. Without thought, I reached forward, linking our fingers together and drawing his hand into my lap. "Don't you think I should at least be allowed to see your face?"<br />
I sensed his hesitation. But instead of trying to convince him, I waited for a reply.<br />
"I don't look like you."<br />
"No one else looks like me either," I said.<br />
"That's true," Tarek agreed, but it didn't sound like he was speaking to me. Then he spoke out, "I mean the people of your planet. I don't look like your version of humans."<br />
"Then what do you look like?" I asked.<br />
"Like a Sapien." He shrugged his shoulders as he said the words.<br />
"Show me," I said.<br />
Tarek untangled our fingers and withdrew his hand. Slowly, he reached up and grasped the edges of the hood. Then he paused.<br />
I groaned out loud.<br />
This guy was going to kill me!<br />
"I'm afraid I won't please you," he said softly.<br />
The words pierced my heart. He thought I was going to think he was ugly. He didn't realize how those words made him so very similar to me and every human I knew.<br />
He was vulnerable and self-conscious, just like the rest of us.<br />
The fact he even cared at all what I thought of him took away some of my shock and panic.<br />
"Try me," I said equally as soft.<br />
You could have heard a pin drop through the silence that encompassed the room.<br />
The silver silky hood fell back, lying against his neck, the folds of the fabric bunched in a way that created a loose frame for everything above his neck.<br />
He was right. He looked nothing like the human's here on Earth.<br />
Tarek was better.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Distant Desires Excerpt #2</span></b></div>
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My fingers spider-climbed up the front of his robe, slowly, as if I were moving unintentionally. He didn't act like he noticed so I kept moving, creeping upward toward that damned hood that shielded his face.<br />
He stood utterly still, almost as if he wasn't even breathing, as my fingers curled around the edge of the hood. The fabric was silky and cool against my fingers as I bunched it in my grip. I hesitated one second before going forward, ready to pull it back and reveal his face.<br />
He jerked away, turning his head and pulling the material from my fingertips just out of reach, denying me the sight I so desperately wanted to see.<br />
"You said you wouldn't hurt me," I whispered. He hadn't kept that promise and he knew it. It seemed the very least he could do was let me look at him.<br />
Slowly, he turned his head toward me once more, tipping his chin down so he still was completely in the shadows of his clothing. Without hesitation, I grasped the fabric again and tugged it back, anxious.<br />
The entire hood didn't slide away as I hoped, but I kept peeling it back anyway. My breath caught when the sight of the smoothest, palest skin I'd ever seen caught my eye. It was absolutely flawless. It appeared as if he didn't have any pores at all. I kept tugging, desperate now to see more.<br />
My fingers dipped farther beneath the fabric and came into contact with his cheekbone, brushing against it and making me gasp out loud. Both of us stilled. He felt like the smoothest stone that sat for days in the summer sun. The heat that radiated from him and into me was unlike anything I'd felt before.<br />
There were just no words to describe it. I could say it was like getting a hot stone massage, but from the inside out. I could say I imagined this was the feeling cats got when they lay in the rays of the sun in front of a window.<br />
But I wouldn't say that.<br />
Because this felt better.<br />
One touch (especially an accidental one) just wasn't enough.</blockquote>
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Cambria Hebert is the author of the young adult paranormal Heven and Hell series, the new adult Death Escorts series, and the new adult Take it Off series. She loves a caramel latte, hates math and is afraid of chickens (yes, chickens). She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband and children (both human and furry) where she is plotting her next book. You can find out more about Cambria and her work by visiting <a href="http://www.cambriahebert.com/">http://www.cambriahebert.com</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-52482051521366406212014-08-04T04:00:00.000-07:002014-08-04T04:00:04.914-07:00Spotlight Tour: The Secret of Flying by Margaret Buckhanon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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People in the village of Upstate New York find the McClary family to be a peculiar bunch. Some call them eccentric; others call them crazy, but the strangest McClary is Endive, the middle child, nearing forty, and living in a basement above a mortuary.</div>
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Endive is a frustrated social worker in a bureaucratic hog tie rendering her helpless to those in need. Invisible to her family, and boyfriend Neil, she comes undone when he ended the relationship. The plot to win him back is foiled by Davin Gray, rodeo star whose bravado and straight talk repels her but it masks the pain of a troubled past.</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
And she watched him hungrily for any signs he still loved her as he had professed so many times before it scared her. Was it false bliss for the last six months? So what if it was, Endive was grateful to be the delusional fool because being loved made her life purposeful, something that filled the void and she did not want it gone. She did not want the “before Neil” of her life back, but unable to bear the emptiness of “after Neil” that was sure to follow.</blockquote>
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Her temples pulsated to the verge of rupture. What to do, what to say, think, think, and think. The calm, rational side said to shut up, go to the bathroom, then reason with him to give the relationship a chance. Jesus, it’s only been six months. What could one possibly know about a person in half a year, 26 weeks, 120 days, 4,368 hours? Relationships have to be cultivated, a history must establish. What if the previous owner of the checkered sofa had gotten rid of it after six months?<br />
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"Would you excuse me for a minute?" Endive finally pushed herself up, steadied wobbly knees. "I'll be back, have to tinkle. Be right back," she repeated, curtsied and smiled, then walked briskly to the bathroom hunched over as if holding a full bladder.<br />
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A crazed woman about to crash off a cliff with a malfunctioning seatbelt, she pushed and shoved the medicine cabinet contents in search of the Valium. Okay, think, think, think, she repeated. Endive’s lovely brown eyes tripled in size when she grasped the empty bottle. "Oh God,” she freaked out mindful of Neil a few steps past the bathroom door, “right in the middle of a crisis.“<br />
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Intuitively, she grabbed the Midol box ripping it apart. A pill was taped inside the lid and above it, in a frenzied scrawled was written: IN CASE OF EMERGENCY</blockquote>
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Margaret Buckhanon's fiction has appeared in Birmingham Arts Journal, The Delmarva Review, Mississippi Crow and Shalla magazine. The Delmarva Review selected her short story,The Homecoming, for reading on NPR in 2009. Her debut novel, SIREN, was published in 2001.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-76509286326374070672014-08-01T05:11:00.001-07:002014-08-01T05:11:10.729-07:00Blog Tour: Review, Trailer & Giveaway: How I Became Lotus Raine... the Pornstar by Erika Ashby<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
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<span style="font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I refused to
work my way up the company ladder by sexually favoring my sleazy boss. I was
beginning to lose hope. Until one day, he surprised me with an assignment that
would literally rock my world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I never
imagined my first assignment being my last. But Brent Nichols worked his way
inside every way possible, unlocking something within me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Becoming a
porn star was never part of the plan. Neither was changing my name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Everyone else knows me as Lucy Rogers, but you can call me Lotus Raine.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Review<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">One of my all-time favorite shows is Big
Brother. One of the taglines for the show and what has made it so popular is to
“expect the unexpected” and realizing that things are not necessarily always
how they seem, even if they are, things can change in an instant. And this
book? Yea, definitely expect the unexpected. While the title is perfect for the
story, it really doesn’t prepare you for the journey you’re about to take while
reading it. You get to know Lucy as a person and understand how she discovered
herself… in more ways than one. While we get to know Brent a little bit, this
story truly focused on Lucy coming in to her own. Don’t get me wrong. This one
is HOT and you’ll NEVER look at cupcakes the same way again. Ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">So when you start this story, know that
it is going to take you on a wild ride. You are going to fall in love with Lucy
and find yourself cheering her on quite a bit! Just remember to expect the
unexpected with this one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">{em}<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Algerian; font-size: 22.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS Mincho"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Trailer</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Being born an "Army Brat", Erika Ashby has been
residing in Oklahoma the last 10 years finally putting an end to the nomad
tendencies she had grown accustomed to. She's a happily married woman who has 5
kids between her and her husband. She has an insane passion for music and
embraces her Inner Groupie any chance she has. It wasn't until the age of 29
that she realized she also had a hidden passion for reading; before then she
claimed to have hated it. Six months after unlocking that deep desire she never
knew she held, she turned the key to another chapter of her life which has
become the desire to write. And the rest is still history in the making.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-84923131439304734612014-07-29T23:08:00.002-07:002014-07-29T23:08:47.971-07:00Blog Tour: Figure Eight by Cassy Roop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Figure Eight- A strong, secure knot that jams under pressure.</div>
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He was betrayed by the one person to loosen the knots of his control.</div>
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She sacrificed her love to protect him.</div>
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Blackmailed into destroying the man she desperately fell in love with, Ashley (Carter) Woodson tries desperately to cling to hope that Dominic will one day understand her reasons for her betrayal and stop the one person determined to keep them apart.</div>
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False accusations send Dominic Michaels into a legal battle involving The Celtic Knot and emotional turmoil from the devastation that Ashley caused him. The battle between his head and his heart makes picking up the pieces of his life difficult while he fights to escape the haunting memories of the only woman to break his control.</div>
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When outside forces conspire against them, will Dominic be able to unravel the ropes on his heart to trust Ashley again? </div>
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What happens when love exists on the edge between finished and infinity?</div>
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“No! I want you to look into my eyes when you come. I want to see the moment your body comes undone through your eyes. I am the one who does this to you, I am the one who knows every single place on and in your body that drives you wild. He will not give you that.”<br />
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I unleashed myself then, grinding into her so hard that her ass started to scoot backward on the sink. I saw it in her eyes the moment her body gave up to me. It sent a primal, gut wrenching feeling through me as she screamed out my name and her tight little pussy clamped down around me. Her voice carried acoustically throughout the bathroom and it sent me flying over the edge. I pumped my seed into her in the biggest, longest climax I had ever had. It felt like I kept coming and coming until there was finally nothing left for my cock to give. I collapsed my head to her chest, as she remained stark still upon the counter.</blockquote>
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Cassy is a work at home mom where she spends her days surrounded by children running her in-home daycare. She loves to cook, read and spend her nights and weekends being a Les Mills group fitness instructor. She has been a lover of all things romance from a very early age. She hopes and dreams that everyone can receive their happy ever after. A good ol country girl at heart, she was born and raised in Arkansas and now resides in Charlottesville, Virginia with her husband and three young children.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-15385920831157825742014-07-29T04:00:00.005-07:002014-07-29T04:00:07.676-07:00SALE: Shatterproof Series<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OBSy4d8x840/U85yQPMacaI/AAAAAAAAELA/86ll75M41DA/s1600/Privacy+Code_Cover_NEW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OBSy4d8x840/U85yQPMacaI/AAAAAAAAELA/86ll75M41DA/s1600/Privacy+Code_Cover_NEW.jpg" height="320" width="206" /></a></div>
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Everyone has secrets. No one has secrets like Watts.</div>
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Catherine Kolb has found the perfect diversion from her life of nearly complete seclusion: a virtually anonymous correspondence with a man she knows only as "Watts." Intelligent, intriguing, and with an insatiable appetite for sex, his words begin to draw her out of her closely guarded world.</div>
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Watts insists on privacy. He has no choice. In the wrong hands, his secrets could get people killed.</div>
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Including him.</div>
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And Catherine.</div>
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But curiosity and lust prove stronger than reason and safety. A planned one-time encounter sets into motion a series of events that bring Catherine and Watts to the edge of ecstasy and the brink of peril.</div>
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Two very private people. One risky night. A shot at love and redemption.</div>
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<i>Due to mature themes, this book is recommended for readers 18+.</i></div>
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As Watts and Catherine become more entangled in a relationship marked by searing sex and imminent danger, he reveals the horrific events of his past that led to his current, dark life. Now Catherine must decide: with all that she’s been through in her life, can she risk suffering the heartache she could be forced to endure if she stays with Watts?</div>
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Watts:</div>
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I’ve had to do some unspeakable things in my life. Some might even consider me a bad guy.</div>
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My secrets can get people hurt, even killed. For that reason, I’ve never let anyone get close to me.</div>
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Until Catherine.</div>
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Her life of isolation so closely mirrors mine that I feel inextricably bound to her.</div>
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She’s my one shot at redemption, and I just may be hers. If the risk is too much for her, she’ll leave. If she stays, my life’s mission changes forever…</div>
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<i>Due to mature themes, this book is recommended for readers 18+.</i></div>
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The hottest and most intense installment…this is the thrilling conclusion to the SHATTERPROOF series. </div>
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“You’re going to have to make a choice, and it’s not going to be an easy one. I’m not the man you think I am.” - Watts </div>
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Catherine made her choice. Now Watts faces an unexpected ultimatum from a nemesis that could threaten to tear them apart, just as he’s dealing with his riskiest and most important assignment yet, one that brings him closer than ever to getting caught. </div>
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His decision will force them to face one of life’s ugliest truths: You can lose your one true love as quickly and unexpectedly as you find it. </div>
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When Watts discovers that the threat runs deeper and much closer to home, his passion for Catherine becomes all the more worth the fight. Their future, and his redemption, depend on it. </div>
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<i>Due to mature themes, this book is recommended for readers 18+.</i></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Remarkably well written, these characters come alive on the page to involve the reader in the mystery that surrounds them. Right from the start the aura of mystery, secrets, and erotic emails will hook you into a story like no other. The emails between Catherine and Watts are incredible." <i>(As You Wish Reviews)</i><br />
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"5 HOT stars! An excellent debut story that entertained me with a great mix of mystery, emotion, and hot sex. Put it at the top of your to read list." <i>(Book Bitches Blog)</i><br />
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"A very exciting read. Was drawn in by Catherine and Watts. The story kept me guessing and the twists were interesting. A romance with suspense, danger and so many surprises." <i>(Sassy Girl Books)</i><br />
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"This series IS HOT HOT HOT! Watts BRINGS it unlike no other and there is suspense, mystery and a whole lot of angst. You will not want to miss out." <i>(Sammie's Book Blog)</i><br />
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"Privacy Code had me intrigued from the very first page." <i>(My Secret Book Spot)</i><br />
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"Holy hotness in this book! Watts and Catherine have some serious sexual tension. This is a MUST READ!"<i> (Eye Candy Bookstore)</i></blockquote>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">From Privacy Code (Shatterproof #1)</span></b></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“What made you change your mind about meeting me?”<br />
She hesitated for a second before saying, “I was curious.”<br />
I grinned. “Perfect reason. You should always give in to your curiosities, especially the forbidden ones.”<br />
I stepped closer to her, placing my hands on the wall just over her shoulders, caging her in, pressing her up against the wall. I dipped my head and barely touched my lips to hers, waiting to see what she would do. As I expected, her tongue parted her lips ever so slightly as though trying to wet them for a kiss.<br />
I let my tongue graze along Catherine’s, then pressed my lips firmly to hers. My tongue dove into her mouth. She opened wider, willingly taking it. She tasted like wine and mint.<br />
A short gasp escaped from her mouth as my hand pulled her dress up, my fingers pressing into the soft, smooth flesh of her thigh.<br />
My cock twitched in my pants. I heard my heartbeat in my ears. Felt my face getting warmer by the second.<br />
I moved down to her neck, tasting her skin and feeling her head drop to my shoulder.<br />
I was finding myself lost in the sensory blur that was Catherine. Her scent, how her flesh felt when I applied pressure with my hands, how she tasted, how I could feel her pulse rapidly pounding against my lips when I kissed her neck.<br />
I slipped one finger under the front of her strapless dress, slowly pulling it down to expose her. I looked down and watched as the fabric slid over the slope of the top of her breast.<br />
With one finger, I traced the outer edge of her bra, teasing her flesh.<br />
“When I said you were going to get the fucking of a lifetime, did you think those were just words?”<br />
She looked up from what my finger was doing and blinked. “I want to believe you.”<br />
She had some doubt. Excellent. “Are you challenging me, Catherine?”<br />
She bit her lower lip. “Maybe.”<br />
I tilted my head and grinned. “Not a good idea.”</blockquote>
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Jordan Burke is a full-time writer who lives near a beach, filling free time with reading, seeing nearly every movie that hits the theaters (and some that don't), pretending to be a chef, and watching college football and basketball. Jordan believes the most fascinating subject in the world is relationships (especially those that triumph over extreme obstacles) and loves to write about them. Jordan Burke is the author of the suspenseful erotic romance series, SHATTERPROOF.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-11667918068914811842014-07-29T04:00:00.004-07:002014-07-29T04:00:00.584-07:00Blog Tour: Skin Deep by D.P. Denman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sometimes the problem is the answer.</div>
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Liam Newman escaped his abusive past to start a new life with the man who saved him. Unfortunately, the old life refuses to stay buried. When a fan of his porn star persona appears, he’s forced to reinvent himself in a surprising new career. Will it give him the rebirth he craves or lead him deeper into the life he’s trying to leave behind?</div>
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<ul>Someone was watching him. The sensation crawled across Liam’s shoulders like a spider, making him twitch. He didn’t bother turning around. Every time it happened, he always found the same eyes and glaring back hadn’t done any good so far. He hung his overcoat in his narrow locker in the employee lounge and pretended not to notice.</ul>
<ul>He didn’t know what to make of the restaurant’s newest server but Eric got on his nerves. The guy was average in build, height, and looks but there was something troubling in the way he stared. The expression that came close to a leer was altogether annoying. He'd seen that look before in other equally annoying men and tried not to think about it, pushing the irritation and the memory away. He had a job to do and he wasn’t going to let Eric get to him.</ul>
<ul>Liam checked his hair in the small mirror tacked to the inside of the locker door as the other employees trickled out of the room to start their shifts. He pushed the locker closed to join them and spun the combination lock determined to pretend Eric was nothing but a piece of furniture. He didn’t intend to stick around for a conversation.</ul>
<ul>“Your name’s Liam, right?” Eric asked from the opposite side of the room as the last co-worker disappeared into the hall.</ul>
<ul>Apparently, he was too late. “Yes.”</ul>
<ul>“Should I call you that or do you prefer ‘Angel’?”</ul>
<ul>The name slapped his heart into a gallop and he jerked his gaze to Eric. No one had called him Angel for over six months. He hadn’t missed it.</ul>
<ul>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He swallowed, his voice an almost breathless quiver that didn’t sound convincing even to him.</ul>
<ul>“Sure you do.” Eric smiled and opened his locker. “You’re that hot kid on the porn site. I’ve been a fan for a long time. It’s nice to finally meet you.”</ul>
<ul>His palms were slick with sweat as he tried to pretend he really didn’t have any idea what Eric was talking about, stuffing them in the pockets of his pants to hide the trembling.</ul>
<ul>“That’s not me.”</ul>
<ul>“I have to admit, you look smaller on the screen but I guess they wanted it that way.” Eric ignored the denial.</ul>
<ul>“What do you want?” He glared at him fed up with the conversation.</ul>
<ul>“Nothing at the moment, though I wouldn’t mind hooking up later if you have the time.”</ul>
<ul>“I’m seeing someone.”</ul>
<ul>“So?” Eric shrugged and hung up his coat. “I’m not talking about a date, just a hook up. Nobody has to know. Consider me a dress rehearsal for the next video. You’re still doing those, right? I’d hate to think you gave that up to work here.”</ul>
<ul>“I’m not interested.” He ignored the comment.</ul>
<ul>He wasn’t going to get into a discussion about his non-existent porn career with a guy who only liked him for his ass. He knew the type. They never listened.</ul>
<ul>“What?” Eric glanced his direction. “You don’t do it for free?”</ul>
<ul>“I don’t know what you’re talking about and even if I did I’m not interested.” He said again with enough conviction to sound believable.</ul>
<ul>Eric raked him with a lustful stare that made him shiver.</ul>
<ul>“Yes, you do. I’d know those pretty eyes anywhere…and that fuckable mouth. It’s you so why don’t you drop the act, Angel.”</ul>
<ul>“Don’t call me that.”</ul>
<ul>“Fine…Liam.” Eric pushed his locker closed and stepped closer to stuff a piece of paper between two of the buttons on Liam’s dress shirt before striding toward the door. “That’s my number. Call me.”</ul>
<ul>He pulled the paper right back out, crumpled it in his fist, and dropped it in the trash, anger and terror whipping through him hard enough to make him shudder. He dragged in a couple of breaths trying to calm the fearful thundering of his heart.</ul>
<ul>He wasn’t that person anymore. He’d left that nightmare behind in an empty apartment across town. It was supposed to be over and he wasn’t sure which was more terrifying: that Eric was going to keep propositioning him or that he’d tell the rest of the staff his secret. He didn’t think he could take working with people who’d seen what he’d done or what all those men had done to him.</ul>
<ul>It took him three tries to get his locker back open, his hands trembling too much to be precise with the dial. He fumbled his cell phone out of the pocket of his coat and called Justin. He wasn’t going to tell him the whole sordid story over the phone, not when he had to be out on the restaurant floor in two minutes but he could at least hear his voice.</ul>
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DP Denman writes character-driven m/m romance about survivors. Her stories are real and intense but always resolve in the type of ending that makes readers want to start the book all over again. She is from the Pacific Northwest and bases all of her stories in Vancouver, British Columbia, a city that is dear to her heart. </div>
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In her spare time she is a dedicated gay rights activist fighting for those who have been marginalized and abused. To that end, 25% of the royalties from every book go to support LGBT charities.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-79237459938189891292014-07-29T04:00:00.003-07:002014-07-29T04:00:00.790-07:00Blog Tour: Lost Heroes II: Osprey's Tale & Firefly's Tale by A. Carina Barry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Book 1 Osprey's Tale: </b></span><br />
Teriel Osmond, also known as Osprey, has lost his friends, his wings, and his lover over the past five years. Given a new set of artificial wings he feels physically complete but his heart is not whole. In walks Amelia Storm, the girl who was once called Firefly. She is the one he longed for but never won. Is it coincidence or fate that has drawn them back together now. Life and time has left its scars on both of them. Can old friends and new desire heal the wounds they carry? <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Book 2 Firefly's Tale: </b></span><br />
Amelia Storm walked away from her friends, her family, and her home after a catastrophic event on set at a television show. She's spent the past five years singing in Germany and touring in Europe trying to distance herself from her memories as "Firefly". But the tour is finally coming to the U.S. and she can't deny that the only man she's really wanted is the one she left behind with her old life. But can romancing the famous flyer end in anything but disaster? Or will trying to obtain her dreams cost her everything she holds dear once more?<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Excerpt 1: Lost Heroes 2: Osprey's Tale</b></span><br />
<blockquote>
Amelia’s face grew pensive and her steps slowed. “You’re poking fun at me.” Clearly his joking had wounded her. All this time alone must have affected his people skills; he would never have slipped up like that in the past. Some gentleman he was.<br />
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“No, no, I’m not, I promise,” he shook his head, setting the colored beads woven into his white-blonde hair and black-spotted neck feathers to clacking softly. “It’s just that I picked this place because it has windows all around it. I like to see trouble coming in advance,” he said, trying to recover the mood. He sped up and wrapped his arms around Amelia’s waist, “Here, let me get the door for you.” Amelia jumped a bit at his unexpected move but he saw her curiosity overcome her as she peered into the room beyond. He watched as she took in the dark blue tones of the room, the king sized bed, and the triangular wall sconces that gave off a soft, dim light so that the city lights beyond were visible in the darkness. The view here was always soothing to him. Teriel just hoped that she would like it as well. <br />
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“Look at this room! I didn’t realize you were so fond of blue.”<br />
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“Well now you know,” he replied. <br />
<br />
Her eyes settled on the small, lower, bed covered in dull grey sheets and she glanced over her shoulder at him, “What’s the second bed for? Do you have some sort of living arrangement with someone?” <br />
<br />
He needed to explain it to her but choked on the words. No one else knew what these new wings had cost him, but she deserved the truth. “Since I had the metal wings bonded to me, I can’t sleep on my back without tearing up a normal bed. So I had a smaller, more durable one made to give me a break from sleeping on my stomach.” He glanced away from her as he spoke, he didn’t want to see pity or sorrow in those green-brown eyes of hers.<br />
<br />
Instead, he felt her turn slightly inside the circle of his arms. She waited for him to meet her eyes before she spoke, “I’m glad you found a way out of your dilemma. I take it the large bed is more for recreation these days?” He let out the breath he had been holding. Her eyes held no pity or revulsion at his revelation. A weight lifted off of his shoulders. <br />
<br />
Teriel turned her the rest of the way around, the long waves of her mink hair traced soft patterns across his tanned skin. Pulling her to him, he made sure that she could see his face and he could clearly see hers. He looked into those shining hazel eyes with his honey amber ones as he leaned down closer to her. “Well, it hasn’t seen much recreation lately. But perhaps you would like to help me change that?” he whispered. A small, sweet smile crossed her face. Desire, so long dormant, flared within him once more. Hope and a wild, desperate longing seized him.</blockquote>
<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Excerpt 2 from Lost Heroes 2: Osprey's Tale </b></span><br />
<blockquote>
Teriel nodded at him and stepped into the bay. Once the rear doors shut, the outer ones opened to the night air. He lifted off and rose up high. Pumping his wings heavily he shot across the sky, feeling them respond to his commands. They opened and closed at his will, but still, a little bit slower, a little less smoothly than his long lost feathered ones. Closing his eyes beneath the moon and stars glittering above the smog of the city, he opened his arms and allowed himself to freefall into the embrace of the air around him. The damp, cold air kissed his skin and felt like an absolution as he fell through the clouds, the wind screaming as he gained momentum. He burst from the cloud cover over the brilliant lights of New York, and still he didn't pull out. Amelia was right; they did kind of beckon. He could just keep going. He had no fear and it would be over so fast he knew it wouldn’t even hurt. He would be beyond all fear and worry and pain, forever. The day had been pretty wonderful; he could be like a samurai on a perfect day, committing seppuku like they had in a book he had once read. But Amelia wouldn’t understand. He might be ashamed of his past, but a warrior didn’t go down without a fight whether that fight came from within or without. So as the tops of the tallest buildings became level with him, he snapped out his wings to their fullest extent and rode the thermals back up. <br />
<br />
Besides, Amelia needed him at her concert. He had at least that long. But after that? All this time and he still didn’t know if she would bolt away again without a word, without so much as a goodbye like she had after Urban Apocalypse? How can you be so close to someone and still feel like an outsider?<br />
<br />
He angled his wings and turned circling the bright spires, giving some late night office worker or hotel visitor a story to share the next day. He didn’t care. Love him, hate him, fear him, pity him, he didn’t care anymore. He was just a man deep down, and his mortality had been driven home to him long ago with the loss of his wings. Amelia could hide being different if she wanted to, but he couldn’t anymore even though that wolf-hunting bastard took the part of his freakiness that made life worthwhile. He leveled briefly and cut sharply to the left, his anger leaving a taste in his mouth as metallic as his wings. <br />
<br />
Diving low he spotted a crouched figure working on a window with a set of lock picks. Bad day for you, buddy, he thought as he dove down.</blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Excerpt 3 from "Lost Heroes 2: Firefly's Tale</b></span><br />
<br />
“Look at this room! I didn’t realize you were so fond of blue.”<br />
<br />
“Well, now you know,” he replied.<br />
<br />
A darker rectangle sat nearby that of the main bed between it and the windows. Amelia paused at the sight of it and looked up at Teriel confused. “What’s the second bed for? Do you have some sort of living arrangement with someone?”<br />
<br />
He looked away, speaking slowly, reluctantly, “Since I had the new wings bonded to me, I can’t sleep on my back without tearing up a normal bed. So I had a smaller, more durable one made to give me a break from sleeping on my stomach.” The man who had no embarrassment about flaunting his body to the world in a house surrounded by windows turned suddenly shy from revealing this little secret from his life. Amelia had really not considered the ramifications of trying to sleep each night with what amounted to a metal backpack made of blades. But Teriel was clearly uneasy, worried somehow about her opinion of his necessary arrangement.<br />
<br />
She twisted part way around under his grip so that she could see him over her shoulder. “I am glad you found a way out of your dilemma. I take it the large bed is more for recreation these days?”<br />
<br />
Teriel’s eyes lit up again and he drew her around fully, pulled her close and leaned in until their foreheads were nearly touching. “Well, it hasn’t seen much recreation lately. But perhaps you would like to help me change that?” he whispered. His brilliant yellow eyes held passion, but also a hopeful pleading. The odds were good that Teriel was just as lonely as Amelia had been. In trying to hide her anomalous glow, Amelia couldn’t afford to get close to anyone either. Her love affairs since the one fling with Kenneth had been exactly what she was trying to avoid: short, meaningless, and often because of her limited stardom as a singer, not for who she really was. She managed to suppress a bitter laugh at the thought although a pained smile came to her face. The low lighting was on her side, though, for Teriel took it to be one of happiness.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Excerpt 4 from "Lost Heroes 2: Firefly's Tale"</b></span><br />
<br />
“I guess we both got our feet wet in the hero business again. And yet, I still didn’t manage to get a beverage,” Teriel said scanning the area once more.<br />
<br />
Amelia couldn’t resist teasing him some. “Poor baby! They should have something by the fountain,” she replied with mock concern. He took it well.<br />
<br />
“You laugh but being a super hero is hard work.” They both spotted the red and white umbrella stripes at the same time just past the tree line near the fountain. Teriel wandered off to get them drinks while Amelia took a moment to sit at the ledge of the fountain. Her feet appreciated a respite after being forced to run in heels. Soon the pair of them was sipping drinks as they sat and watched the people watching them go by. She thought she heard Teriel splashing his hand in the fountain some but wisely made no comment on it.<br />
<br />
At last she said, “It’s been a good day,” Amelia said at last. “But do you know what would make it even better? If you took me dancing.” With that she playfully bumped her shoulder against his, a teasing look on her face.<br />
<br />
Teriel set his drink down and turned away as he said, “I can’t do that, Amelia. I am sorry but I can’t be that close to people with these new wings.” She could hear how much it hurt him to admit it, but she knew he would say that. Amelia planned to broaden his world a little. Teriel spent too much time at home and at the publishing offices.<br />
<br />
Standing up she reached out for his hand saying, “Why can’t we dance right here?” Taking his fingers she pulled gently until he reluctantly joined her.<br />
<br />
“But we don’t have any music,” he protested, but she knew his heart wasn’t in it. He wanted to dance; he just didn't believe it was possible still.<br />
<br />
“We have the fountain, and…” Leaning in close, nearly resting her head on his jacket, she began to sing to him. It was a new ballad she had been working on; only she and her band mates had heard it before. She laced the fingers of her left hand into his and took his other hand, guiding it around her waist. And finally, Teriel began to move with her, a simple sway, probably ingrained into every kid who ever had a school dance. But she knew how to waltz and simply helped guide him through the movements of the box step, singing all the while. She saw him close his eyes, and she could feel his body let go, the tension leaving him as he fell into the moment with her, something she knew he rarely did in public. She could never compete with Teriel’s new-found money, but there were some gifts you couldn’t buy.<br />
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A. Carina Barry has an eclectic writing style that swings like a pendulum between the polar opposites of love and death. Between these two points lies the vast totality of human existence. She believes that if you can master the themes governing the beginning and end of life, the rest will come to you. Her work has appeared in has appeared in the ‘Haikus for Lovers: An Anthology of Love and Lust” by Buttontapper Press and is featured in “The Rogues Gallery: The Illustrated Police News” anthology by Firbolg Publishing. In addition she has a chilling anthology with her husband called “The Under-Circus and Other Tales”. The Lost Heroes series featured here is about adventure and romance with super heroes. She enjoys spending time with her pets, playing video games, reading, creating art, and writing alongside her husband.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-66345155835705321202014-07-29T04:00:00.002-07:002014-07-29T04:00:05.004-07:00Blog Tour: Taste by Cambria Hebert<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One taste is never enough…</div>
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Spencer Waller’s main purpose in life is to protect and serve. After spending years in the military, he gets a coveted spot on the Secret Service detail protecting the president. Spence doesn’t have time for women or all the work having a relationship with one requires. But just because he isn’t looking for a lady doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate a beautiful one when he sees her. </div>
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And he makes it a point to see one in particular every single day.</div>
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Elle Bond has literally chopped and fried her way to the top of the food chain. Earning a coveted position in the White House as the president’s personal chef, she figures her professional life can only get better. Her personal life, on the other hand, could use a little bit of an overhaul, and because of that, she tries to ignore the charm-dripping cookie thief every time he comes into her kitchen. After all, she knows better than anyone that just one taste of something good is never enough.</div>
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One night after work, Elle is assaulted, threatened, and given an ultimatum. She can’t go to the police, and she sure as hell can’t do what she was ordered. </div>
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But she has to. Or else.</div>
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Pale, shaken, and scared to death, Elle confides in Spence, and his protective instincts take over. Together, Elle and Spencer have to uncover a sinister plot and stop it before someone ends up dead.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt 1:</span></b></div>
From this close I could see the scruff growing in on his jaw area, it was dark blond too and made him look totally delicious.<br />
Holding my shirt up with one hand he reached out with the other, gliding his fingers across my stomach, just below my ribcage. “Here?” he whispered, staring at the area.<br />
I nodded, not bothering to glance down. The skin stung lightly as he caressed it. I didn’t care. Frankly, it could hurt like hell and I still would have let him touch it. Desire suffused my limbs, making them heavy. I felt goose bumps break out over my bare skin, and maybe I should have been embarrassed at my reaction because really there wasn’t anything sexual to what he was doing but my body sure as well acted like there was.<br />
He frowned a little when my muscled trembled beneath him and glanced up. “Does it hurt?”<br />
I shook my head, unable to speak.<br />
“It’s just red. No blisters,” he answered, not looking back down at the “burn” but not pulling his fingers away either. Spencer watched me as he dragged the tops of his knuckles down the curve of my waist and moved across my navel.<br />
“You burned anywhere else?” he rumbled in a low, throaty tone.<br />
Man, I wish I was. I wished I could point out a thousand injuries just to give him a reason to not lift his hand.<br />
“No,” I whispered.<br />
He glided his hand over my hip and curved his palm around the dip in my waist, tugging me just a little bit closer. Just one step… that’s all I needed to take to bring my bare waist up against his body.<br />
I tilted my head back when he bent, lowering his face toward mine. I anticipated his kiss, I craved it… part of me thought I might need it.<br />
He stopped just inches away, his heavy lidded eyes spearing mine. “Nice drawers,” he whispered.<br />
It took me a second to realize what he said, I was too far under his spell.<br />
But when his lips turned up in an onery smirk his words penetrated my lust laden brain I gasped and leaped back, pulling my shirt from his hand and yanking it down over my “drawers”.<br />
“Oh my God!” I burst out. “You are such a pig!”<br />
He laughed. “What? I was paying you a compliment.”<br />
I groaned, still yanking at the hem of my shirt. “You’re making fun of me!” I challenged.<br />
He laid a hand over his heart and looked at me solemnly. “I do swear that no one wears polka dots like you do.”<br />
I. Was. Going. To. Die. Of embarrassment.<br />
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">Excerpt 2:</b></div>
The room was completely silent except for the light scrawling of my pen across paper. Maybe that’s why I heard the sound.<br />
It was a low scraping sound, like wood rubbing against wood. I tilted my head, confused. It was an odd sound to hear in the middle of the night, something I might not even think twice about if it were daylight.<br />
But it wasn’t.<br />
A muffled thump overhead caused my entire body to tighten like a shoelace with a double knot. My head snapped back to stare up at the ceiling.<br />
I was being crazy.<br />
I was being paranoid.<br />
Thump.<br />
There was someone in the apartment!<br />
A surge of adrenaline so powerful it blurred my vision for a few seconds rocketed through me. My brain tried to think as my body went into overdrive. That first sound, someone had opened a window upstairs. The thump was when that someone dropped their up-to-no-good ass into my house.<br />
Still clutching the pen, I raced for the stairs, out of my mind with fear. All the times my mother told me I needed to get a landline phone installed haunted me in that moment. My only means of calling for help was upstairs, beside my bed, in the form of my smart phone.<br />
She was never going to let me hear the end of this.<br />
If I survive. The thought floated through my head like a vicious taunt. Another light scuffling sound upstairs had my heart thumping even harder.<br />
My God, it might not be me they hurt!<br />
I wasn’t quiet on my way up the old wooden steps. In fact, I sounded like a herd of elephants that needed to lose about twenty pounds.<br />
Good.<br />
It would draw all the attention of the no good dirty rotten bastards in here.<br />
Come get me, assholes.<br />
It was dark upstairs except for the nightlight that lit up the hallway. Against the long wall across from that light, I saw a dark, lurking shadow pass. I gasped and my blood pressure skyrocketed so high that my scalp likely should have blown off the top of my head.<br />
Holy shit, this was scary.<br />
But I had to be strong. I had to be a fighter. I was a fighter.<br />
The intruder appeared at the top of the stairs, slipping out of my bedroom just as I cleared the top step. His body tensed when he saw me, and then he rushed me without warning.</blockquote>
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Cambria Hebert is the author of the young adult paranormal Heven and Hell series, the new adult Death Escorts series, and the new adult Take it Off series. She loves a caramel latte, hates math and is afraid of chickens (yes, chickens). She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband and children (both human and furry) where she is plotting her next book. You can find out more about Cambria and her work by visiting <a href="http://www.cambriahebert.com/">http://www.cambriahebert.com</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09580405068578527998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4199115611057834503.post-7422425856051859772014-07-29T04:00:00.001-07:002014-07-29T04:00:06.271-07:00Release Day: The Bondage Club by Alexandrea Weis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A man looking for a new beginning</div>
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Hunter Donovan is a writer who dreamed of penning the great American novel but settled for a job running the family business, Donovan Books. Trapped publishing other people’s stories, Hunter buries his frustrations in vodka and an endless parade of one-night stands. </div>
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A woman with a secret</div>
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Cary Anderson is the perky, petite, and staunchly determined editor who is well versed in erotica fiction. But Cary has a kinky side that she is struggling to keep hidden from the world.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Fed up with dwindling sales, Hunter hopes to breathe new life into his publishing house by breaking into the risqué world of erotica. He hires Cary to rescue his company and she is keen to show her new boss everything she knows. But what starts out as a lesson in sexual fiction turns into an unexpected roller coaster ride of disastrous romantic encounters. And just when Cary helps stir Hunter’s creative voice, he uncovers the truth about her wicked ways. </div>
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Some ties that bind can cut right to the heart in…The Bondage Club.</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #1a1a1a;"> </span>The veil of
evening was reaching across his office window when Hunter’s cell phone on the
side of his desk rang. Checking the caller ID, he frowned when he saw that the
number was blocked.</div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> “This is Hunter Donovan,” he barked into
the phone.</span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
<o:p></o:p></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> “Do you always answer the phone in such
a cheerful manner?” a seductive female voice reprimanded.</span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> “That depends on who this is.”</span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> “Cary told me of your little meeting today,
and your interest in my next book. You don’t waste any time do you?”</span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. “Well,
well, Ms. Slut. Nice to hear your voice again. I hope your time at the Book
Expo was worthwhile.”</span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> “You were the highlight of my trip, Mr.
Donovan.”</span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Hunter smiled as he sat back in his
creaky desk chair. “I’m so glad. I was beginning to think you didn’t like me.”</span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> “Have you ever met a woman who didn’t
like you?”</span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
The question made Hunter chuckle. “Which
answer will get me your next book, Ms. Slut?”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
A high-pitched tinkling laugh came
through the speaker of his iPhone, making Hunter’s stomach flutter ever so
lightly. “I like a man who doesn’t waste time with sweet talk. Check your email.
I just sent you the manuscript. It’s called <i>The
Bondage Club</i>, and if you’re interested, e-mail me a contract, and I will
look it over.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Can I ask what it’s about? I mean, with
a title like that I can guess, but….” His voice faded as his curiosity
rose. </div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“There are many different kinds of
bondage, Mr. Donovan, that don’t involve ropes, chains, or even handcuffs.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
Hunter gaped at his cell phone. “I
don’t get it.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Love can be a form of bondage,”
she explained. “We can get tied to someone just as easily as we can be tied up
by someone. The book is about bondage in all of its forms.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Then I look forward to reading it.” He
paused as he thought of an idea. “But why not come to my office? We can discuss
the details of the contract over lunch,” he pursued with a hint of insistence
in his voice.</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“I don’t think so. Lunch with you would
be dangerous.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
Hunter coyly smiled. “For which one of
us, Ms. Slut?” </div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“I’m not your type, Mr. Donovan.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
Hunter’s body rippled with the hint of a
challenge. “You never know; if Donovan Books handles your novel, we may grow on
each other.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“I hope not. Getting involved with the
man who publishes my book would complicate matters. I’m also a very demanding
author. I might get on your nerves after a time.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“I have a lot of demanding authors. You
would fit right in.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Do you usually try and date your
authors, or will I be the first?”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
He fingered a corner of the manuscript
open on the desk before him as his imagination began to wander. “You would be
the first. I never date clients.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“I heard a nasty little rumor to the
contrary, about your brother and Monique Delome. They were engaged and then she
up and married some Texas oil man. Lucky girl.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Lucky to be rid of my brother,” Hunter
returned, pushing the manuscript in front of him to the side.</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Oh, do I detect a note of sibling
rivalry, Mr. Donovan?”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
He leaned back in his chair and
turned his eyes to his arched window. “Rivalry, nah. More like deep-seated
hatred. And if I’m going to bare my soul to you, you should start calling me,
Hunter.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Let me guess, Hunter.” Her voice
was throaty and delicious, spurring on his desire. “He stole your Legos when
you were six and you have never forgiven him.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
Hunter ran his hand over his face,
feeling the conversation was getting a little too personal. “Never mind my
brother. Let’s talk about you.” </div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“I make it a practice never to talk
about myself. The less people know about me, the better.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“I don’t agree, Ms. Sl….” Hunter
crinkled his brow. “What else can I call you? Ms. Slut is too—”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Call me Smuttie, if you like.”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Smuttie…don’t you have a real name?”</div>
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: left;">
“Smuttie is all you need to know.” The
sound of voices in the background broke in. “Let me know what you think of my
manuscript, Hunter. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” Then the line went dead.</div>
</span></blockquote>
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Alexandrea Weis is an advanced practice registered nurse who was born and raised in New Orleans. Having been brought up in the motion picture industry, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her award-winning novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story memorable. A permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries, Weis rescues orphaned and injured wildlife. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans.</div>
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