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Category: Excerpt Reveals (page 1 of 3)

Chapter Reveal: Exodus by Kylie Hillman

by Kylie Hillman
Genres: Psychological Thriller

 

Coming April 11th

 

 

 

Xander Barrett had it all.
Until it was stolen by the devil.
His life. His lover. His freedom.

A chance encounter secures his release.
But, it comes at a cost–a debt he must settle before he’s allowed to take his revenge.

Luckily, it’s a price he’s willing to pay.

Stripping a man of everything but his pride isn’t smart. It creates a monster that’s bigger and meaner than the original. Satan has spawned his match, and he’s ready to cause an exodus.

DISCLAIMER: This story contains triggering content and is not suitable for all readers, especially those under eighteen years of age.

This story is the second installment in the Centrifuge Duet, and while it can be read as a standalone, reading Amnesia, Centrifuge Duet #1 first is recommended.

 

Prologue

 



I always thought everyone had a conscience. That even the worst type of people had one—they were just adept at ignoring it. However, the past eighteen months have forced me to reassess this.
Why? Because I no longer have a nagging voice in my head or the hollow feeling in my gut when I do something wrong. The two things that I associated with my conscience are gone. Poof. Like a puff of smoke, they up and left me sometime between the first time I was arrested and last night, when I watched a man I didn’t know—a man who’d never done a thing to me—bleed out over his desk after I’d slit his throat.
Nowadays, I don’t believe that many of us possess a conscience. There’s too many people willing to throw their own granny under the bus for a dollar for me to hang on to the idealistic view of the human race that I held for the first thirty-two years of my life. In this current incarnation of the world we inhabit, a conscience is no longer an asset.
It’s a liability.





Chapter 1

Ever wanted to see the love of your life getting fucked six ways to Sunday by the asshole she chose over you?
Nah, me neither.
Unfortunately, I don’t get a say in the matter. Not when each afternoon at precisely three o’clock, I’m hauled out of my cell, dragged down the long, white hallway, and handcuffed to the table in one of the private visitation rooms provided by the prison. The flat-screen TV mounted in the corner of the room is turned on and I get a ringside view of my ex-fiancée getting reamed by her new husband.
I say “reamed”, not because I’m being a prick. I say it because that’s exactly what it is. He drives his cock into her like he’s trying to brand her from the inside. Hard. Fast. And, furious. He’s always furious. There’s a deep rage burning in the gaze that Dr. Jaxon Ray always manages to send straight down the barrel of the camera. If I was prone to flights of fancy—which I’m not—I’d say that he does it deliberately in some sick determination to let me know that he knows how I feel watching them.
Every thrust is a clear message, anyway.
I won. You lost.
She’s mine.
Keys rattle in the door of my cell. They herald the start of another free porn show. Bile rises in my throat, the sickening churning in my gut commencing like clockwork at the thought of what’s to come.
Here we go again. Another epic fucking day in this freakshow that is currently my life.
“Barrett.” A cursory glance in the direction of the man who speaks tells me that the guard is not one I’ve met before.
I ignore him and remain lying on my back on the lumpy mattress, one arm behind my head in an attempt at nonchalant posture while the other is hidden by my side with my fingers curled into a fist ready for whatever this change in guard’s may bring. The flaky grey ceiling above me has two distinct dark shadows on it. One is mine, unmoving and unwilling. The second is the guard. I track the latter black blob moving toward me, the handcuffs he holds jingling ominously with each step he takes.
“Move your ass, Barrett.”
“Fuck you.” My response earns me a boot to the side. I hear the second guard enter my cell, his chuckle of enjoyment giving away his identity. It’s the usual prick who escorts me. The one who likes to wait with me and narrate the carnal joining as it unfolds on the screen. My nostrils flare when pain blooms from the connection of the first guards foot with my ribs. I roll into a ball. My mouth shut—lips sealed through sheer willpower. I’ll swallow my tongue before I give them a reaction.
“I’m not kidding.” The threat precedes a follow-up kick that has me rolling away until my knees hit the wall at the far side of the bed. “Your visitor doesn’t like to be kept waiting. I’d move my ass if I was you. This might be your only chance to get out of here.”
The pain in my body leaves immediately. I struggle to sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed once I’m facing them. Apprehension pumps through my veins when I meet their smug gazes.
“Visitor?” The raspy quality to my voice is less than optimal. Clearing my throat, I try again, this time with some authority in my tone. “What visitor? I don’t have anyone approved.”
The closest guard—Mr. Chatty Porn Lover—answers first. “No shit, Sherlock. Who said anything about her being approved?”
His companion shrugs, then holds the cuffs out to me. “She might not be approved, but I think you’ll want to see her.”
My heart lurches in my chest, skipping a beat before it settles into a frenetic pace that has me sweating like a fat kid at an all-you-can-eat buffet. There’s one question running around my head at a million miles an hour.
Amber’s here?
A glance in the direction of the guards tells me that I won’t get any further answers out of them. I swallow my growing curiosity and the overwhelming desire to knock out the two pricks who separate me from the woman who owns every functioning cell in my body. I know acting on my urgency will only slow the damn process so I force myself to cooperate.
Standing, I hold out my arms with the wrists parallel. He snaps the handcuffs on and then follows the chain that connects them until he’s squatting at my feet. Sharp, efficient movements have the other set of larger steel cuffs locked around my ankles in seconds. Once I’m secured, the guard yanks on the chain that joins my bound hands and feet in a silent command to follow him. I shuffle along, one guard in front of me and one behind, intently watching me like I’m the convicted murderer I’m purported to be.
When we pass the visitor’s room that I’m usually led into, I almost let my curiosity get the better of me and ask where the hell we’re going. Thankfully, answers are provided before I give them the opportunity to shoot me down with sick glee.
The door that leads into the room next to the one I normally occupy is opened by the guard who’s leading me. I stand as tall as I can, shoulders back and head held high, determined to resemble my old self as much as I can when I come face to face with Amber for the first time in almost two years.
It takes a ridiculous amount of resolve to stop the shaking that threatens to take hold of my body as I lift my head to greet my woman. Our eyes meet. I blink furiously, unable to believe what I’m seeing. Playing it cool is no longer an option. Not with the guard behind me blocking any opportunity for escape. Instead, I let my mouth fall open and verbalise the question that’s beating a thunderous cacophony of confusion around my skull.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Such rudeness is unbecoming from a man in your position.” The woman seated at the table in the middle of the room sniffs, her annoyance with my lack of manners clear. She smooths her skirt over her thighs before settling a satisfied gaze on me. “Considering I’m your new boss and your passport out of this establishment.”
Wife to a Harley riding, boating and fishing, four-wheel driving, quintessential Aussie bloke.
Mum to two crazy, adorable, and creative kids.
Crohn’s Disease sufferer and awareness campaigner.
She’s also an avid tea drinker, a connoisseur of 80’s/90’s rock music, and is known for lacing everything she says with sarcasm and inappropriate innuendo.

Formerly working in finance, she was forced to reevaluate her plans for her life when severe Crohn’s Disease brought her corporate career to a screeching halt. Restarting her childhood hobbies of writing and reading to alleviate the monotony of being sick and housebound, she found her calling and is enjoying life to the max. A typical day is spent in the “real” world where she hangs out with her awesome family and “book” world where she gets to chill with her fictional characters.

Kylie writes the books she wants to read. A lover of strong men who aren’t perfect and aren’t afraid to admit it, straight talking women who embrace their vulnerabilities, and real life gritty stories, she hopes these themes shine through her writing. An avid reader of all genres, Kylie hopes to release books that keep the reader on the edge of their seat- be it with suspense, heart-stopping thrills, or laughter.

Author Links

 

 

 

Amnesia by Kylie Hillman – Excerpt Reveal

 

Coming February 20th

 

 

Amnesia, a Psychological Thriller

Dr. Jaxon Ray has only ever wanted one woman. He’s loved her from afar since their Junior School days, worshiping the ground she walks on, intent on having her for his own when the time is right.
Amber St. George isn’t interested in the trappings that come with her family’s wealth. A simple life as a teacher at an underprivileged school, a comfortable home with her lover, and good friends; that’s all she desires.
Once Jax decides it’s time to take what’s his, Amber finds herself at the mercy of a madman. A sociopath with access to the latest neurological advancements, who possesses the ability to use her own mind to keep her captive. Programmed to forget. Reprogrammed as her captor’s perfect partner. Amber’s left with medically-induced amnesia and no idea that she’s in for the fight of her life.
When the people who know you’re missing aren’t on your side, and the love of your life has been led to believe that you’ve turned your back on him, is rescue possible? When you can’t remember the real you, is escape even on the cards?
DISCLAIMER: This story contains triggering content and is not suitable for all readers, especially those under eighteen years of age.

 

 



On shaking legs, I make my way down the ornate staircase. Ever since I woke up in Jax’s bedroom, my mind has been racing a million miles an hour. What am I doing here?
In Hell.
A hell that I swore I’d never return to.
I press my palm against my forehead and squint my eyes, trying to get some answers out of my almost empty head. I know enough to recognise who I am and my current location. Apart from that, my mind feels like a dense cloud of nothingness.
As I descend further, voices become clearer. My father. My mother. Jax. His father. Sebastian. Oh my God, Seb is here. Without thought, or care for my protesting body, I run down the remainder of the steps and straight into Seb’s arms. His familiar embrace engulfs me, my entire weight falling against him as relief that I have one ally in this room hits me.
“Amby Pamby,” Seb rests his chin on the top of my head as he addresses me by the ridiculous nickname he gave me when we were kids. “It’s damn good to see you again.”
“Same.” The word leaves me in a rush, confusion wrapping around my answer with an urgent intensity.
Seb grabs me by the top of my arms and pulls me from his chest. He looks down at me with serious eyes that reside in a face that’s identical to his big brother’s, except for one glaring difference. His face is full of warmth and kindness, something that can never be said for Jax.
“What’s wrong?” He lets go of me with one hand and gestures around the room. “Apart from the obvious. What the hell are you doing here? You made your feelings about my brother very clear the day you disappeared from our lives like you’d never existed.”
My shoulders nearly touch my ear lobes when I shrug. “I don’t know. My memory’s gone.”
Jax clears his throat, stepping into my space and laying an arm across my shoulders. With obvious intent, he steers me away from Seb until I standing between him and my father. I send a searching look in Dad’s direction. He surprises me by meeting my silent questioning with a smile and an approving nod. I might not be able to remember much, but I know that this isn’t usual.
As I open my mouth to greet my parents, the last sentence that Seb said sinks in. I whirl around to face him. “What do you mean I disappeared from your lives?”
Jax cuts in before his brother can speak. “He’s talking out of his ass, like usual.”
He takes hold of my upper arms with a gentleness that isn’t mirrored in his tense expression. “Baby, you know what Seb’s like. He’s been enjoying himself immensely, using your amnesia to take liberties with our history.”
His fingers tighten around my biceps and he pulls me into his chest, tucking me under his chin and wrapping strong arms around me. “Why, just yesterday, he had you believing that you had run away from me to study abroad.”
The chuckle that rumbles in his chest sounds sincere and nobody in the foyer speaks up to deny what Jax has said. However, I can feel increased tension pervading the atmosphere when he addresses his brother. “Isn’t that right, Seb? You’re toying with my poor fiancée.”
I attempt to turn in Jax’s arms so I can see Seb’s face. The arms that hold me turn from strong and comforting to constricting in an instant. I’m effectively pinned against my fiancé’s chest, and left to rely on my hearing to determine the sincerity in his brother’s answer.
“Yeah.” A dry laugh fills the foyer. “I’m just messing with you.”
Warm breath blows over the top of my head as Jax lets out the breath that I realise he was holding. He releases his hold on me, just before Seb pats my shoulder. I turn to my childhood friend—and apparent brother-in-law-to-be—and poke him in the stomach.
“You’re so mean.” My tone is deliberately light, although my gaze is serious when I meet his eyes. “Maybe, you can tell me the truth instead? Fill in the blanks.”
Seb’s eyes widen. He looks at the floor and shuffles his feet. “I don’t know if that’s possible. Memories are subjective. Depends who’s telling the story, doesn’t it?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer to his cryptic response. Pushing past Jax, he throws an arm over my shoulder and stokes my hair before laying a kiss on the top of my head. Then, he glares at his big brother and strides toward the front door. As the butler closes it behind his retreating figure, a sense of familiarity tugs at the edges of my mind and a recollection breaks free.
I’m lying on my bathroom floor, naked and crying, when a teenage Seb pushes the door open and rushes into the vast, tiled room. He drops to his knees next to me, pulling an extra towel from the rail above us, and draping it over my shoulders. With a strength that he shouldn’t possess at his young age, he picks me up and sits me in his lap.
“I hate him.”
A shaky hand strokes the back of my head, fingers tangling lightly in my knotted hair, and he whispers, “I know, Amby Pamby. He’s evil.  But, I don’t know how to stop him. Maybe if you try to forget what he’s done, you won’t feel so bad. Grandpa always says that memories are subjective because it depends on who’s telling the story. I guess that means that we can get rid of the bad ones if we try hard enough to forget. After all, our life is our story.”
The words from my memory are so similar to the one’s that Seb just said, that a sense of déjà vu grips me, and I slap my hand over my mouth. Jax returns his attention to me. I stare at him through disbelieving eyes and try to really take him in.
On the surface, he looks stressed and concerned. Like a worried fiancé should. Except, the anxiety doesn’t seem to come from true concern, it’s an act. As if, he knows it’s expected of him, so he’s providing it.
Seb’s strange departure—and the memory it shook free—has a million questions running around my head, rattling against my skull, demanding answers. Self-preservation screams louder than my confusion. It drowns out my need for an explanation; instead, cautioning me that the people in this room aren’t trustworthy.
With this warning at the forefront of my thoughts, I let Jax take my arm in his, and lead me to toward the formal lounge. My acquiescence has the tension in his athletic frame lessening with each step until the smile that I send his way has it disappearing completely. We settle next to each other onto one of the ornate love seats. My parents sit directly across from us, and Henry, Jax and Seb’s dad, sits on the single seat next to me. A hushed reverence fills the room, making me forget my immediate problems. It feels like someone has died.
“Amber-Rose,” my father addresses me by my full name. It sends shivers down my spine, the prickling sensation growing into apprehension. Jax takes my closest hand and places it in his lap. He runs warm fingers across the pulse point in my wrist. It calms me; removing my doubts about him, and replacing them with a sensual lick of desire that has me trying my hardest not to press my thighs together and squirm in front of my parents.
If it didn’t feel so delicious, it would be humiliating in its intensity.
A smirk lifts the corner of Jax’s full lips, signalling that he knows what he’s doing to me. I try to tug my hand from his grip, stopping when his tightened hold tells me that he’s not going to let me go. A devious glint can be seen in his expression, moments before he increases the pace of his soft ministrations. The answering ripple of desire that runs through my body almost drowns out the words that leave my father’s mouth next.
“After we attend Charles’ funeral this afternoon, we need to sit down and hammer out the fine details of your prenup. You’ve had enough time to get on board with this. It’s time to seal the deal and join our families.” My mind sticks on the first part of Dad’s declaration, not comprehending the enormity of his final sentence.
Charles’ funeral? The only Charles I can remember is my Uncle Charlie. My dad’s younger brother. I look at my mother for the first time, noticing the strain around her eyes and the tight line of her lips. She doesn’t even attempt to smile at me, the sorrow that’s painted on her face all the confirmation I need.
“Uncle Charlie’s dead?”
“Yesterday,” Jax answers without pausing. “He was shot in front of you. Don’t you remember?”
Grief is causing my heart to pound in my ears. It’s almost deafening; yet, it doesn’t drown out the mocking in Jax’s voice. My shoulder hits his when I swing around to face him. The devious desire that filled his expression moments ago has been replaced by a challenge.
Why he’s looking at me like that, I don’t know. But, it’s not right.
My eyesight fades, darkness taking hold as what Jax said circles my addled brain.
He was shot in front of you.
Don’t you remember?
Voices fill my head, competing for dominance with the wild rush of remembrance that’s flooding me.
Jax. Uncle Charlie. Xander.
Who’s Xander?
He’s my fiancé. My real fiancé.
No, he’s not. Jax is.
No Xander, my fiancé was there.
For what?
To save me.
There’s an argument. Uncle Charlie yells at Jax.
A loud bang. Jax shoots my uncle in front of me.
Don’t you remember?
“I remember.” The words leave my lips before I can stop them. My ever-present self-preservation stops me from verbalising exactly what it is that I remember. Jax nods, taking my hands in his, squeezing them painfully.
“That’s good, baby.” He murmurs this against my hair, then stands and lifts me into the air. “That means you know what I’m capable of and you’re scared. I like that. Except if you remember, then you know what I did to you, and that’s not good.”
My body sways when Jax starts walking. My hands push against his chest in a ridiculous protest. I don’t have any allies here so escape is futile. My body recognises this, a leaden feeling of surrender overcoming me. The fight leaves me. My head dropping against Jax’s shoulder.
“Amber needs another dose,” he announces to the room just before we cross the threshold into the foyer and head for the stairs.
“Whatever it takes to keep her under control,” my dad answers.
“The finishing line is too close for this fall apart now.” Henry sounds stern when he comments. “If it does, we’re all ruined.”
His strange choice of words piques my curiosity and I try to force my mind to provide the answer to my newest question.  
How do I make this fall apart so I can ruin them all?
Wife to a Harley riding, boating and fishing, four-wheel driving, quintessential Aussie bloke.
Mum to two crazy, adorable, and creative kids.
Crohn’s Disease sufferer and awareness campaigner.
She’s also an avid tea drinker, a connoisseur of 80’s/90’s rock music, and is known for lacing everything she says with sarcasm and inappropriate innuendo.

Formerly working in finance, she was forced to reevaluate her plans for her life when severe Crohn’s Disease brought her corporate career to a screeching halt. Restarting her childhood hobbies of writing and reading to alleviate the monotony of being sick and housebound, she found her calling and is enjoying life to the max. A typical day is spent in the “real” world where she hangs out with her awesome family and “book” world where she gets to chill with her fictional characters.

Kylie writes the books she wants to read. A lover of strong men who aren’t perfect and aren’t afraid to admit it, straight talking women who embrace their vulnerabilities, and real life gritty stories, she hopes these themes shine through her writing. An avid reader of all genres, Kylie hopes to release books that keep the reader on the edge of their seat- be it with suspense, heart-stopping thrills, or laughter.

Author Links

 

 

 

S.O.B. By J.C. Valentine – Review & Excerpt

by JC Valentine
Genres: Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance, New Adult, Romance

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S.O.B, A Stepbrother Romance

by J.C. Valentine
Publication Date: November 10, 2016
Genres: Adult, New Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance

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Amazon (99c or #FREE with #KindleUnlimited): http://amzn.to/2f22PMl

Synopsis: Levi Black is an s.o.b.Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he’s a pretentious, obnoxious, womanizing jacka** who thinks the world revolves around him.

He wouldn’t be wrong.

A famous soccer player, his skills on and off the field have won him medals, trophies, women, and the cover of every heartthrob magazine in the country. He’s broken nearly every bone in his body and a few hearts along the way, including mine—his stepsister—and lived to tell about it.

One night changed everything, and I’ve avoided him like the plague ever since. Just long enough to finish college, to bury the hurt, and to outrun the memories. But now that’s all changed. I’m back, and there’s no more running.

My hands are supposed to be my livelihood, but now they’re my curse. Levi’s reckless ways have landed him in a sticky situation, and his father has given me an offer I can’t refuse. One month, and all I have to do is put my hands on his body. Easier said than done. The problem is, even though I know it’s bound to bite me in the a**, I can’t bring myself to say no to the s.o.b.

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Review

5star

OMG!!! I have owned this book for ages and never had a chance to read it. It was always I get to that later. It took for me to be asked to review it. That I finally get round to it. Well what an idiot I am, I Loved ever single word of this book and I could kick myself.

The story is Taboo to some but I love a good old step brother romance and see nothing wrong in them at all. This book was also a sports romance but also so much more.

I fell completely in love with Levi, the way he wound up Vista was so funny but Vista gave just as good as she got. I couldn’t help but chuckle at their bantering and chemistry. It made the book really funny and emotionally fueled. This book made me cry alot but I think it needed to take the journey that it did.

I will most definitely be reading more from JC Valentine and will be recommending this book to everyone. It’s a must read for me. A great story that is so hard not to love.

Reviewed by Donna

EXCERPT 

“This is where we’re going to do it?” Vista’s eyes are wide, darting everywhere as she tries to soak it all in at once.

“As many times as you want,” I tell her, smirking when she levels me with one of her disapproving frowns that make her forehead wrinkle adorably.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

With her chin held high, she takes the lead. There are chairs set up around the entire perimeter of the pool for the residents, and Vista chooses one, dropping her towel at the foot and, no lie, when she strips off the sundress, I think I have a stroke.

She has the most beautiful body I have ever seen on a woman. Fit, firm, curvy in all the right places. I love her ass most of all. At the pond, I had my fingers buried in those cheeks so hard she probably had bruises for days after, and I’ve been anticipating when I can do it again. Despite her determination to keep me at arm’s length, I can’t get her off my mind.  

Approaching the edge of the pool, she dips her toes into it to test the temperature. “I’m assuming you know how to swim?” she asks sarcastically over her shoulder.

“Like a fish.” Dropping my towel at the foot of the chair next to hers, I stand facing her with my arms folded over my chest.

“I think we’ll start with a couple laps to get your blood pumping.”

 

ABOUT J.C. VALENTINE

JC Valentine

J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Series. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isn’t sorry.

J.C. earned her own happily ever after when she married her high school sweetheart. Living in the Northwest, they have three amazing children and far too many pets and spend much of their free time together enjoying movies or the outdoors. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelor’s in English and when she isn’t writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors.

Sign up for J.C.’s newsletter and never miss a thing! http://bit.ly/1KxXWWB

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Heat Wave by Karina Halle – Review

by Karina Halle
Genres: Contemporary Romance

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heat-wave-3d-bookThey say when life closes one door, another one opens.

This door happens to lead to paradise.

And a man I can never, ever have.

Still grieving the loss of her sister who died two years ago, the last thing Veronica “Ronnie” Locke needed was to lose her job at one of Chicago’s finest restaurants and have to move back in with her parents. So when a window of opportunity opens for her – running a kitchen at a small Hawaiian hotel – she’d be crazy not to take it.

The only problem is, the man running the hotel drives her crazy:

Logan Shephard.

It doesn’t matter that he’s got dark brown eyes, a tall, muscular build that’s sculpted from daily surfing sessions, and a deep Australian accent that makes your toes curl.

What does matter is that he’s a grump.

Kind of an asshole, too.

And gets under Ronnie’s skin like no one else.

But the more time Ronnie spends on the island of Kauai, falling in love with the lush land and its carefree lifestyle, the closer she gets to Logan. And the closer she gets to Logan, the more she realizes she may have pegged him all wrong. Maybe it’s the hot, steamy jungles or the invigorating ocean air, but soon their relationship becomes utterly intoxicating.

There’s just one major catch.

The two of them together would incite a scandal neither Ronnie, nor her family, would ever recover from.

Forbidden, Illicit, off-limits – sometimes the heat is worth surrendering to, even if you get burned.

 

AMAZON | Amazon Paperback | iBooks | B&N

 

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Review

4-star

I Absolutely loved this book and I just wonder how many more wonderful stories that Karina Halle has in her locker that will keep us dreaming for a HEA.

This book defin6doesnt disappoint at all and again my emotions took a pounding which is the normal it seem whenever I read a Karina Halle book. Although this book was a slow burner I love it, I Loved the way Ronnie and Logan were together. Logan stole my heart with his support for Ronnie, she had such a hard time with no support from anywhere at all. And even when they weren’t together he was by her side.

I recommend this book so much. It’s a definite read for me. You won’t be disappointed at all.

 

Reviewed by Donna

 

PROLOGUE

I saw him first.

It shamed me to think it then, it shames me to think it now.

But that’s what the truth does to you sometimes. It shames you because it’s only in the truth that you realize how human you really are. What a raw, devastating thing that is, to embrace your humanity and learn to live with all your sharp points, the hollow places, the cracks and the crevices. To be utterly real. To be terribly flawed.

Those cracks had always been forming inside me, slowly making their way to the surface over the years. In my family, there wasn’t much you could do but try and hold yourself together, to stick glue on your wounds, to paste over the imperfections. But the cracks still grew, until all of us were held together by crumbling cement, just statues waiting to collapse.

That was years and years ago. I was just twenty-two at the time. A baby. I’m still a baby in the grand scheme of things, but there’s something precious about your early twenties, where you think you’re so much older, bigger, than you are, where life is just about to deliver the crushing blows that will knock you off your feet for the rest of your days. The small things become the big things and the big things become the small things and you aren’t quite sure when they made the switch.

But in the end, I saw him first. He was mine, even before he knew it. He was mine in some strange way that I still don’t understand. The only way I can think of to explain it is…

You just know.

There are moments in your life, people in your life, that when they cross your path and meet your eye, you know. Maybe it’s all in the chemistry, certain pheromones that react when they mix together, maybe it’s a smell that triggers a memory, maybe it’s a glimpse at a future you don’t recognize or a hint at the past, a life you’ve lived and forgotten. Whatever it is, you know that moment, that person, is going to shape you for the rest of your life.

That’s what it was like when I saw him. Standing over by the windows and staring out Lake Michigan, like he was wishing he could be anywhere but there.

I wished the same. My mother’s the deputy mayor of Chicago and this was another one of her fundraisers I felt obliged to attend. It was tradition in my family, for my father, for me, for my sister, to show up and wave the flag of support. It didn’t seem to matter that the stuffy politicians that surrounded these events never paid me any attention. And if they did, it was the wrong kind of attention, always the sixty-year-old man leering after the young thing with the nice smile.

Luckily I didn’t smile all that often. My resting bitch face took over whenever I was deep in thought, which was pretty much all the time.

But this guy…I felt a kinship with him. I felt like I knew exactly what he was thinking, feeling, and that it was completely wrapped up in and connected to everything that was going through me.

I don’t know where I found the nerve to go over and talk to him. He seemed so much older, not quite the sixty-year-old politicians I was used to seeing, but maybe in his early-thirties. More than that, there was some kind of aura around him. Sounds stupid, I know. Whatever it was, it was like he belonged in some whole other universe than here, a star on earth, permanently grounded and yearning to be in the sky.

It was usually Juliet’s job to go around and make everyone feel warm and comfortable at these events—hell, in every event—but she wasn’t here yet. And though I could have easily stayed in the shadows, I was pulled to him, like he had a wave of gravity whirling around him.

I remember what I was wearing. Strappy flats because I hated wearing heels, a knee-length cocktail dress in emerald green, sleeveless, high-neck. It made me look older and I wore it because my mother always wanted me to look like a lady.

With a glass of champagne in hand, I made my way over to the windows, my heart racing the closer I got to him. He looked taller up close, well over six feet. His shoulders were broad, like a swimmer’s, and suddenly I had a vision of him diving into the lake. The navy blue suit he was wearing looked well-tailored but he seemed uncomfortable in it, like he couldn’t wait to get rid of it.

I stood beside him for a moment, following his gaze out the window. He seemed lost in his thoughts but out of my peripheral his head tilted slightly and he brought his eyes over to me while I kept staring at that wide expanse of water, stretching out to the horizon.

“Can’t wait to get out of here?” I asked, but though my tone was mild, my delivery was bold. It was as if someone else had taken a hold of my body, forcing me to speak. I slowly turned my head to meet his eyes.

I was taken aback for a second. He was staring at me like he knew me, even though I’d never seen him before. Then again, I was sure I’d been staring at him in the same way. That feeling of knowing. He knew me, I knew him, and who the hell knows how that was possible.

His eyes were brown—are brown—dark with currents of gold and amber, giving them beautiful clarity. Slightly almond shaped. His brows were also dark, arched, adding to the intensity of his gaze. He’s the type of guy whose eyes latch onto you, dig deep, trying to sift through the files of your life, see who you really are.

“How did you know?” he asked, a full-on Australian accent rumbling through his gruff voice. It made my stomach flip, my core smolder. How deed you now, is what it sounded like. Funny how I stopped hearing the accent after time.

I gave a half shrug and looked back to the party. More people had flooded the room, mingling around the appetizers. My mother was in the corner, a crowd of politicians around her. She didn’t see me. She never did.

“Because I think I’d rather be in the middle of Lake Michigan too,” I told him, “then be stuck here with all these people.”

“These people,” he repeated. My focus was drawn to his lips, full, wide, tilting up into a smirk. Beneath them was a strong chin and even sharper jaw, dusted with a five o’clock shadow that seemed permanent, like the man couldn’t get a clean shave even if he tried. “How do you know I’m not one of these people?”

“Because you’re over here and not over there. How come you keep answering my questions with more questions?”

He studied me for a moment. My blood pounded in my head and I felt a giddy kind of thrill at how this was progressing. If anything, I was proud for holding my own with this handsome stranger. He was the first man I ever really felt at ease with.

He cleared his throat, offered me a quick smile before he nodded at the lake, his hands sliding into his pockets. “She almost looks like the ocean, doesn’t she?”

“Not quite the same as Australia, I would imagine.”

“No hiding this accent, is there?” He glanced at me and stuck out his hand, which I shook for a moment, warm palm to warm palm. “I’m Logan Shepard. Australian. And the reason I’m here is because I was invited by a friend of mine. I’m only in town for a few days and he didn’t want to go alone. He’s over there.” He nodded at a tall black man in the corner, listening intently to another man.

“Warren Jones,” he said, as if I should know him. Perhaps I should. He probably thought I was one of them. “He’s local and the key piece to my investment.”

I wasn’t one for business talk—I never had anything to contribute other than lamenting student loans—but I wanted him to keep talking. “What’s your investment?”

“Starting my own hotel,” he said. “In Hawaii. Have you ever been there?”

“Once. When I was eight. I think we were in Honolulu. I remember a city, anyway. Waikiki Beach.”

“This hotel is in Kauai. The Garden Isle. Went there once as a teenager and couldn’t get it out of my mind.”

I didn’t know the right things to say. I wanted to ask more about the hotel, what it means when you have an investor, but I didn’t want to appear dumb. I kept my mouth shut.

“You haven’t introduced yourself,” he said. “Protecting a secret identity?”

I smiled, close-lipped. “Not really. I’m Veronica Locke. American. And I unfortunately I don’t have much else to add to that.”

“Locke?” he repeated, eyes darting to my mother. “Are you the daughter of the deputy mayor, Rose Locke?”

“One of them,” I told him.

He nodded quickly. “I see. No wonder you’d rather be in the middle of the bloody lake. I bet you have to do this stuff all the time.”

“It’s not so bad.” I took a sip of my drink so I didn’t have to say anything more and looked away at the crowd. The bubbles teased my nose, making my eyes water.

I could feel his gaze on me as he spoke. “I’m sure you have plenty more to say about yourself though. Where do you work? Student?”

“Culinary arts,” I told him. “I’m one of those crazy people who dream of being a chef one day.”

He frowned. “Why is that crazy?”

I gave him a look, forgetting that most people have no idea how hard it is. “Because it’s a long road, long hours, and nothing is guaranteed. People think being a chef is easy. They see Gordon Ramsey or Nigella Lawson and think it’s all fame and food and money and they have no idea what it’s really like. I’m not even out of school and already I feel half-beaten.”

He was still frowning. He did that a lot, I would soon learn. “Sounds like life to me.” His eyes dropped to my lips and something intensely carnal came over them, like suddenly I was the food, not the wannabe chef. “Did you want to get a drink somewhere. After this? When you’ve done your daughterly duties?”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what a drink meant. Just a drink? A date? Was it sex? I started going through my head, trying to think of reasons why it was a bad idea. My legs were shaved, did my bra and underwear match? Did I have a condom? I had taken the pill this morning, even though my last boyfriend and I had broken up months ago. I hadn’t been with a guy, let alone a man, in a long time.

Don’t flatter yourself, I quickly thought. What makes you think he’d be interested in you that way?

“Yes,” I said when I finally found my voice. “Yes, I would like that.”

A spark flashed in his eyes, lighting them up in such a way that made my toes literally curl. Damn. I was in trouble with this man. “Any way you can get out of your duties sooner?” he asked.

I couldn’t help but smile, raising my brow at his presumptuousness, while simultaneously trying to hide the fact that I was freaking out. I looked around the room and tried to judge how likely it was that someone would notice if I was gone. My mom was still surrounded by a wall of people and no one was paying any attention to us, standing by the windows, already removed.

A sad thought hit me, sliding past before I could really dwell on it: no one even notices when I’m here.

“If we’re quick and sneaky,” I told him.

“Being quick isn’t in my repertoire,” he said, “but I could give it a shot.”

Again. Damn. I wasn’t one to blush but I could feel my cheeks heating up and hoped my skin supressed the flush. He was so much older than me in so many ways, the last thing I wanted was to appear the naïve schoolgirl.

And I didn’t know what to say to that. He was staring at me with those dark eyes, a look so intense yet sparkling with charm and something…wicked.

I’d never find out how wicked they could be.

“Ronnie!” A melodic, ultra-feminine voice sliced through the moment like an unwieldy machete, causing me to flinch, my fingers tightening around the stem of the glass.

Oh no, I thought. Not now.

Logan’s head swiveled toward the sound of the voice, like a hound picking up a scent. I didn’t bother looking over, I kept my focus on him, watching his expression intently. It changed, as I knew it would.

She had walked into the room.

He saw her.

And like it was for so many men, that look of lust I had thought was for me, was now for her.

That’s when I knew it was over. Whatever thing I had felt for him, it didn’t matter anymore, not when she was in the room. Nothing ever mattered as long as she was around.

I might have saw him first.

But he was all hers after that.

 

 

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Halle HeadshotKarina Halle is a former travel writer and music journalist and The New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling author of The Pact, Racing the Sun, Sins & Needles and over 25 other wild and romantic reads. She lives on an island off the coast of British Columbia with her husband and her rescue pup, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of trails and devours a lot of books.

Halle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North America and in the UK.

Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com and sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing sales and more.

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Hell and Back by Natasha Madison – Excerpt Reveal

by Natasha Madsion

BLURB

 
Meeting him was a fluke. Dating him was a mistake. Watching him become a drug addict put me through hell. Running was my only option.

***

I’m running from my demons and when I find out she’s trying to escape her past, I know what I have to do.

One broken cop. One woman fighting for her life. A fragile love.

Sinister secrets that threaten to tear them apart.

They’ve been to hell. The hard part will be finding their way back together.



Releasing October 31, 2016
 
 
 
 

PRE-ORDER TODAY

 
 
 

EXCERPT

 
I pull up in my driveway looking over at the house.  What I see pisses me off. 
Here she is in a long-sleeved shirt, long pants, hat and glasses pushing a brand new lawn mower.
I make sure I check my temper before I walk over.
Right before I cross the street the little girl on the front porch stops me mid step.
She looks like just like her mother, just a smaller version.  She is sitting on a plastic little table, that they probably just bought, coloring.
I make my way over to her right when the lawn mower goes off
“I told you I would cut the grass.”  I try to sound casual, but the blood in me is boiling, it must be ninety-five degrees
outside, and she’s wearing enough clothes for a trek across the frozen tundra.
She looks up “I also said I got it, and I would be doing it myself.” The little girl from the porch makes it to her mother and hides behind her, yanking on her pant leg. 
The fearful look that she gives me is just like her mother’s.  I crouch down, getting eye-to-eye with her and say “Hey there, beautiful. What’s your name?” She doesn’t reply, and instead she lowers her gaze so she is looking at her feet. “I’m Jackson,” I
reach out my hand, but drop it when I know she won’t take it.  I gesture behind me, as I say “I live in that house right over there.  I used to know your great grandma.”  I’m trying to draw her into a conversation with me, but nothing I say engages her.
“It’s ok baby, you can tell him your name.  Nan used to make him cookies, so you know what that means, she must have really
liked him.”  She rubs her daughters shoulder.
“I’m Lilah,” she says in barely a whisper.
“That is the most beautiful name in the whole wide world.  You’re lucky to have such a beautiful name.”  She smiles at me, right as a car back fires. She yells and puts her hands to her ears. 
Two things happen at the same time, her mother grabs her and runs toward the house, and I vow to protect them.
“Wait,” I rush after them and make it right to the door before it’s closed in my face.  I stand there inside the house and
watch them rushing to the corner and hide.
Two broken girls protecting each other against some monster of the outside world.  I walk up to them “It’s ok, it’s just a car, it was nothing but a car.”
“Lilah, baby it’s ok, it’s ok.  I’m here.  It’s ok baby girl, were safe.” She is trying to comfort the little girl who is sobbing quietly in her mother arms.  “No one is here baby.”
She looks over at me, our eyes meeting for one minute before she lowers them again.
“Look it’s ok, it’s just Jackson.  There is no one here, baby.”  She rocks Lilah back and forth. Her back against the wall while she soothes her baby girl whose sobs are slowly stopping, her eyes closing.
“What can I do?”  I’m now sitting in front of her not sure how to even start to dissect this.
“Nothing, you can’t do anything for us,” she kisses Lilah’s head. “No one can.”
I ignore that last part not sure how to talk about this now. 
“I’m going to go outside and finish cutting the grass, then I’m going to go pick up some food for us.  Does she like pizza?”
“Jackson, I don’t know what relationship you had with my grandmother, but I don’t need your help.  We will be fine.  Please, it’s ok, you can leave.” She rests her head on the the wall closing her eyes, the defeat of the day leaving her body.
“I’m going to go outside and finish mowing the lawn so Lilah doesn’t have to go outside anymore today.  Then I’m going to
pick up pizza for myself.  You won’t have time to cook, so I’m going to pick one up for you.  I want to eat with you guys, but I’m not pushing myself on you either after today.  Now I don’t want to fight with you or even discuss this, so just nod
that you understand?”
She looks into my eyes, but nods yes.
“I can pay you for the pizza?  I have money. I don’t need a hand out,” she says while trying to push herself up to go get
fucking money. 
If she weren’t so scared of things I would punch the fuck out of something right now.  “I don’t want your money, now or
ever.  I have no doubt you can take care of yourself.  Consider this a housewarming present.” I get up going to the door not even giving her a chance to say anything else.
“She’s never had pizza before, so can you just get us plain cheese.”
I don’t say anything afraid of what will come out of my mouth.  I nod and walk out the door, closing it quietly so as not to wake Lilah.
I close my eyes exhaling the breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding.
“She’s barely holding on while fighting for her life.  She has demons, they both do.  Whatever happened to them, it’s in there deep.  The both of them are so scared, you can practically see the fear coming off of them.”  I look over at Brenda who is on
her porch watering her plants. “Tread lightly, Jackson, or better yet walk away if you aren’t going to do anything about it.”
I don’t have a chance to respond she walks into her house closing her front door softly, leaving me fighting my own demons.
 
 
About Natasha Madsion
 
When her nose isn’t buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she’s in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It’s a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn’t listen to her…
 

Declan by Caitlyn O’Leary

by Caitlyn O'Leary

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EXCERPT

I dropped to one knee and stared at the little boy who looked like he might be sleeping amongst the dust and debris.  Brushing off the bits of rock and rubble from his face, I picked him up and hugged him close.  Despite all my prayers, I knew deep in my heart he was dead, like all the others in this God forsaken mess that surrounded me.

“Declan.  We’ve got to go.”  Brannon’s voice seemed distant.

Something red and blue caught my eye.  It was a little stuffed horse. Had it been the boy’s?  Goddammit, be careful, you’ll drop him.  Regaining my balance on the cement fragments, I bent down and picked up the toy and put it on the child’s chest, cuddling both of them closer to my heart.

The little boy had lived in this house, one of three destroyed in one fell swoop, killing innocent women and children.  The damn headdress obscured my vision for a moment, or was something else in my eyes?  I saw something move towards me.  Men with shovels, running and shouting.  After a moment, I understood them.  They were right.  Maybe there were survivors.  I could help look, or at least help dig out the remaining bodies.

A warm hand  touched my shoulder.  I turned, it was Brannon Dodge.  “We’ve got to go.”

“I did this.”

“No.  No, you didn’t.  Dec, we’ve got to go.”  The body of the little boy was cooling in my arms despite the heat surrounding us.  He would never grow up.  Never go to school.  Never become a man.

“We’ve got to leave the country,” Brannon insisted.

“I’m not leaving.”  There was no way I was going back to the US.  I’d help these men bury their loved ones.  If they realized I was an American, so be it.  I deserved whatever happened.  The intelligence provided by one of my men had done this.  Death would be welcome.

Brannon called out loudly in their native tongue, “Whose son is this?”  A crowd of men swarmed and one sobbed.

“My boy.  My boy.”  The man trembled as I carefully placed the precious bundle into his arms, making sure the stuffed horse stayed with him.  He wailed loudly in his grief, as people huddled around him, trying to offer sympathy.  Brannon grabbed at my arm.  I was just too tired to pull away.

Step after step he dragged me.  I couldn’t help myself, I kept looking backwards at the devastation I’d wrought.  Homes that an hour ago had held happiness, joy, and dreams of a future.

“Let me go, Brannon.  I need to stay.”  I jerked away.

“Not going to happen, major.”

So fucking tired.  How many days had we been there?  We’d been weeding through leads and chasing our tails for what seemed like forever.  The team had been shot at, stabbed, and now this.  Laird was barely hanging on and had been sent to Germany..  My thoughts sent the bile rushing into my mouth and I doubled over losing the little bit of food I’d eaten that morning.  Brannon stood there, then I made a run for it

“Declan, they’ll figure out you’re an American.  You’ll be killed, or worse.”

I turned to tell him to shut up, and met his fist.  It all went dark.

declan_coming_soon

You want to know about me? I believe in three things: loyalty to my friends, helping those in need and

the end justifies the means.

Declan (Shadow Alliance Book One) by Caitlyn O’Leary releases October 26th!

Pre-order your copy at the following retailers:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2eec2CC

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2dXy1i9

iBooks:  http://apple.co/2dWFbU5

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

declan

Blurb

Some serious shit went down when I was in the Army. I mean brutal. After my last tour, I created the Shadow Alliance. Me and my team know how to get things done, and will take on all those jobs that others won’t. My name is Declan McAllister and when it comes to keeping people safe, I’m your man. Mess with me and I will rain hell-fire on you like you’ve never experienced before.

Few things get my motor running like beauty and brains. Okay, a nice ass doesn’t hurt either. Getting a chance to work with FBI Agent Allison Davies, who is the whole package, normally would be great, except when she followed my butt down to the flood ravaged country of Paraguay to track down a traitor, and ends up putting her career on the line.

Now here we are attempting to keep things professional, but the more I watch Allison pour her heart and soul into this case, the more I want to see what that same passion would be like between the sheets.
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About the Author:

caitlyn-oleary

Caitlyn O’Leary is an avid reader, and considers herself a fan first and an author second. She reads a wide variety of genres, but finds herself going back to happily-ever-afters. Getting a chance to write, after years in corporate America is a dream come true. She hopes that her stories provide the kind of entertainment and escape that she has found from some of her favorite authors.

 

Her Series Include:

THE FOUND:

It’s a bit Paranormal, a bit Sci-Fi and 100% Action/Adventure. The characters have special abilities, that make them targets.

 

MIDNIGHT DELTA

This is focused on a group of Navy Seals. What makes them special is their bond to one another, and the women they come to love.

 

FATE HARBOR

This is the series that started her career, it is a Menage Series that takes place in Fate Harbor Washington. It focuses on a tight knit community who live and love and care for one another.

 

Stalk Her: Website, Facebook, Amazon, and Goodreads.

Preppy by T.M. Frazier

by T.M. Frazier
Genres: Dark Romance

preppy_excerpt-1

PROLOGUE

PRESENT

PREPPY

Tiny flashes of dim light spark in the darkened corners of my mind. Slowly, it turns from dusk to dawn, awakening my thoughts as the inner light grows brighter and brighter.

I hear a sound, a faucet running, and I realize it’s the blood rushing through my ears. When it reaches my heart I choke as it comes back to life like a bass drum. Boom. BaBOOM it beats, on and on, until it falls into a quick yet steady rhythm. The new life inside me grows louder, stronger, until death fades away and I awake on a gasp.

My eyes spring open. I try to take in air, but nothing happens. I try again and my lungs burn as they finally decide to cooperate. I can breathe, but it hurts like a son of a bitch.

I’m fucking alive.

My first thoughts shock the shit out of me. They’re of a girl. A sad looking girl with shiny black hair and huge dark eyes sitting on the edge of the water tower.

My heart falls out of rhythm, beating faster and faster until it’s thrumming against my chest like the vibration of a jackhammer.

Her.

Although my vision is blurry as shit, my thoughts of her are clearer than they’d ever been, and for the first time in my adult life, I’m fucking scared.

I don’t even need to see the big motherfucker standing over me with a baseball bat to know I am completely and totally fucked.

preppy_preorder

Love. Never. Dies.

Find out why in Preppy by T.M. Frazier

releases on October 25th.

Pre-order your copy at the following retailers:

Amazon US:  http://amzn.to/2exbef8

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2e5xFVf

iBooks: http://apple.co/2dTC9Pe

Nook:  http://bit.ly/2dvflpI

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

preppy-cover

Blurb

Samuel Clearwater, A.K.A Preppy, likes bowties, pancakes, suspenders, good friends, good times, good drugs, and a good f*ck.

He’s worked his way out from beneath a hellish childhood and is living the life he’s always imagined for himself. When he meets a girl, a junkie on the verge of ending it all, he’s torn between his feelings for her and the crippling fear that she could be the one to end the life he loves.

Andrea ‘Dre’ Capulet is strung out and tired.

Tired of living for her next fix. Tired of doing things that make her stomach turn. Tired of looking in the mirror at the reflection of the person she’s become. Just when she decides to end it all, she meets a man who will change the course of both their lives forever.

And their deaths.

For most people, death is the end of their story.

For Preppy and Dre, death was only the beginning.

This is the fifth book in the King Series and it’s meant to be read after Soulless.

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About the Author

t-m-frazier

T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.

She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.

In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.

It only took her twenty years to start the next one.

It will not be about hamsters.

Stalk Her: Website, Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, and Goodreads.

Bound To Submit by Laura Kaye

by Laura Kaye
Genres: BDSM

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Decadent… Sensual… Forbidden…

12 Masters. 12 Desires. 12 Fantasies Come to Life.
Meet the Masters of Blasphemy…

 

 

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About Bound to Submit:

From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive BDSM club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…

He thinks he caused her pain, but she knows he’s the only one who can heal her…

Kenna Sloane lost her career and her arm in the Marines, and now she feels like she’s losing herself. Submission is the only thing that ever freed her from pain and made her feel secure, and Kenna needs to serve again. Bad. The only problem is the Dom she wants once refused her submission and broke her heart, but, scarred on the inside and out, she’s not looking for love this time. She’s not even sure she’s capable.

Griffin Hudson is haunted by the mistakes that cost him the only woman he ever loved. Now she’s back at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, and more beautiful than ever, and she’s asking for his help with the pain he knows he caused. Even though he’s scared to hurt her again, he can’t refuse her, because he’d give anything to earn a second chance. And this time, he’ll hold on forever.

Order Bound to Submit in ebook or paperback, releasing 10/11/16

Amazon | iBooks | Kobo| Barnes & Noble

Add to your Goodreads

 

 

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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“A searingly sexy story with some of the hottest scenes I’ve read in a long, long time. Laura Kaye shows her mastery of the BDSM world. I’m eagerly anticipating more in this bold new series!

~ Cherise Sinclair, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters of the Shadowlands Series

“Smoldering and sexy, Laura Kaye’s Blasphemy series is everything I look for in a romance. Haunted heroes and strong heroines populate this one of a kind club and I can’t wait to see the big bad Doms fall one by one.”

~ Lexi Blake, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters and Mercenaries Series

 

 

hard-to-serve-cover

Meet the Masters of Blasphemy in Hard to Serve, now available in paperback and ebook.

 

 

laura-kaye-headshotAbout Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty-five books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

 

 

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter SignUp

 

EXCERPT

Hey everyone! I’m super excited to share an excerpt from my upcoming Bound to Submit, the first official book in my brand new and super hot Blasphemy series! I’m excited about this one for so many reasons—because writing this series is such a guilty, fun pleasure, because the heroine in this book is a kick-ass veteran amputee, and because I love writing the brotherhood between the Doms at this club. I hope you enjoy Blasphemy, too! So here’s a little taste of the battle of wills coming in Bound to Submit – enjoy!

 

After five years, Kenna Sloane stood in front of him. Only, something was different about her now. Restrained, even. Griffin studied her for a long moment. She held her position beautifully, as she always had, with her posture perfect and her feet spread and her arms folded behind her back. The blond hair was different. In the year they’d played together, he’d rarely seen it her natural color, and he grew to enjoy the surprise of how she’d change for him, liking a butterfly ever transforming anew.

But that wasn’t what was tripping his internal alarms. He focused on her face. There. The cool distance in her eyes. The careful neutral of the expression. This was a woman who’d fearlessly and sometimes brazenly worn her emotions on her sleeves. A woman whose feelings he’d seen in her revealing eyes long before she’d voiced them all those years ago. But now, only her mouth dropping open revealed some little chink in her carefully crafted armor.

She was still stunningly beautiful, though. Breathtaking.

“It’s good to see you after all this time, Kenna,” he finally said in what amounted to a monumental understatement.

“Master Griffin,” she said, her voice as cool as her expression. When had Kenna ever been so reserved with him? Since you rejected her?

The truth of that launched a sinking feeling in his gut that he kept from being reflected on his face. “Have you moved back to Baltimore or is this just a visit?”

She frowned and her eyes searched his, like the question had surprised her. “Oh, uh, yes. I moved back.”

“I see,” he said, letting his gaze wander. Down the slender column of her throat. Lingering on the beautiful plunging neckline of her bodysuit. Over her long, toned legs. His hands itched for some rope. His mind raced with the patterns he wanted to make on her naked skin. His ears strained to hear the throaty, gasping moans she’d release as he bound her tight and sure and irrevocably to him. The desires made him hard for her. “Then welcome home.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she said quietly.

He wanted to grab her by the arms, shake her, embrace her. Something to elicit some of the old passion. But he’d lost the right to expect that from her, hadn’t he?

So what did she want?

“So, did you want—”

“Master Griffin, can we—”

They both chuckled at speaking at the same time, but the awkwardness was evident in the sound of his laugh and the expression on her face. He hated it, how out of sync they were after once being so well matched that Griffin kicked himself every day for letting her go. He knew how rare that was, and he hated himself for not seeing it then. Not cherishing it, as he should’ve.

“Kenna, are you here to talk or play tonight?”

“Both, Sir,” she whispered.

He tilted his head. “And, were you hoping to do those things with me?” He couldn’t assume, not after everything. But his body was like a rope pulled taut in anticipation of her answer.

She licked her lips, and Griffin felt it everywhere, because the simple action revealed that she wasn’t as unaffected as she was putting on. “Yes, Sir. If you’re available. And, uh—” Her shoulder moved in a tiny nervous shrug. “—interested.”

Relief and heat flooded through his veins. Kenna Sloane was here for him, after all this time. He leaned in and put his face next to hers, his mouth near her ear. “Oh, little Kenna, I’m fucking interested, all right.”

The goosebumps that sprung up on her face where their skin touched felt like victory. She wasn’t unaffected at all. But he’d let her have this reserve. For now.

He pulled back and nailed her with a stare. “Now, let’s go have that talk.”

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Bound to Submit by Laura Kaye – Excerpt Reveal

by Laura Kaye

Decadent… Sensual… Forbidden…

12 Masters. 12 Desires. 12 Fantasies Come to Life.
Meet the Masters of Blasphemy…

 

 

Releasing October 11, 2016, BOUND TO SUBMIT is the first full-length novel in Laura Kaye’s erotic new Blasphemy Series, and today we have a teaser excerpt just for you! Check it out below!

 

 

 

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About Bound to Submit:

From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive BDSM club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…

He thinks he caused her pain, but she knows he’s the only one who can heal her…

Kenna Sloane lost her career and her arm in the Marines, and now she feels like she’s losing herself. Submission is the only thing that ever freed her from pain and made her feel secure, and Kenna needs to serve again. Bad. The only problem is the Dom she wants once refused her submission and broke her heart, but, scarred on the inside and out, she’s not looking for love this time. She’s not even sure she’s capable.

Griffin Hudson is haunted by the mistakes that cost him the only woman he ever loved. Now she’s back at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, and more beautiful than ever, and she’s asking for his help with the pain he knows he caused. Even though he’s scared to hurt her again, he can’t refuse her, because he’d give anything to earn a second chance. And this time, he’ll hold on forever.

Pre-Order Bound to Submit in ebook or paperback, releasing 10/11/16

Amazon | iBooks | Kobo| Barnes & Noble

Add to your Goodreads

 

 

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From Laura Kaye:

Hey everyone! I’m super excited to share an excerpt from my upcoming Bound to Submit, the first official book in my brand new and super hot Blasphemy series! There are less than two weeks until release day and I’m so excited!! This is a steamy second-chance romance with a tall, dark, and tortured Dom and a kick-ass veteran amputee heroine, and I just loved writing these characters. I hope you’ll grab your copy of Bound to Submit, and the prequel, Hard to Serve—now available at all retailers—too!!

Now, enjoy this little taste Bound to Submit – coming October 11!

 

EXCERPT:

 

“Use your safewords if you need them, Kenna.”

Griffin hesitated only one more second.

And then he was on her. His mouth on hers. His tongue sinking deep. His hands in her soft blond waves. The moan she unleashed shot straight to his cock and made him want to wring every moan he’d missed these five long years out of her beautiful, curvy body.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he said. When she did, he cupped her ass in his hands and pushed off the couch. “Hang on, little one.”

He made for the adjacent door to the play room, but, good as it was, that one kiss hadn’t been nearly enough. Not when he was absofuckinglutely starving.

Pinning her to the wall, he dove back in again. Kissing, claiming, devouring. He ground himself against her pussy, the strangled cry she released around his tongue making his balls heavy and full. “I’m not sure you realize what you’re getting into with me, Kenna. Because I’ve missed the hell out of making you come.”

“Oh, God,” she rasped.

“God can’t save you. Not from me. Not tonight.”

He swung open the door, the motion-activated lights coming on as they moved into the play room. Others occasionally used this space, but he used it most. He’d designed and installed the furniture, suspension hooks and shackles, and pulley systems in the room for all different kinds of bondage play, and he’d outfitted the storage cabinets with every possible implement he’d need, too.

And he had just the thing in mind, for tonight.

“Feet down,” he said.

The way she slid down him nearly drove him insane, and then he stepped back and considered her body suit. It was so fucking sexy that he hated to ruin it, but PVC was a bitch to get on and off.

“I fucking love and hate that body suit right now,” he said, planting a stern expression on his face.

Amusement flashed across her eyes. “Sorry, Sir,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

A thought came to mind and he retrieved a roll of red Kinesio tape from a cabinet. Tearing a length off he said, “I’m going to allow you the suit. This time. But I need you to tell me where the prosthesis ends and your arm begins. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she said, lifting her arm as he moved in. “The stump extends about two inches below my elbow.”

“Here?” He held the tape over the black of her suit. When she nodded, he gently applied the red marking around her forearm. “Once we start, you have carte blanche—for tonight—to speak. I want you vocal. I want you telling me how I’m making you feel.” He nailed her with a stare. “Don’t let me hurt you. Don’t even let me get close.”

“I won’t, Master Griffin. I can handle this.”

“I doubt don’t it, Kenna, but I will cut the scene if I have even an inkling that I’m causing unintentional pain that you’re not owning up to.” He arched a brow. “Are we clear?” She gave a fast nod. “Good. Then spread your feet and put your hands at your side. Now.”

Her ready compliance fucking slayed him. After all this time, it really did.

“Mmm. Very good. Now, don’t move a muscle unless I tell you to. Because the scene begins right now.”

 

 

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“A searingly sexy story with some of the hottest scenes I’ve read in a long, long time. Laura Kaye shows her mastery of the BDSM world. I’m eagerly anticipating more in this bold new series!

~ Cherise Sinclair, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters of the Shadowlands Series

“Smoldering and sexy, Laura Kaye’s Blasphemy series is everything I look for in a romance. Haunted heroes and strong heroines populate this one of a kind club and I can’t wait to see the big bad Doms fall one by one.”

~ Lexi Blake, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters and Mercenaries Series

 

 

HARD TO SERVE - cover

Meet the Masters of Blasphemy in Hard to Serve, now available

Amazon exclusive until September 2016 in paperback and ebook

 

 

Laura Kaye - author picAbout Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty-five books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

 

 

 

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Wolf Prey (Wolf Cover Book 3) by Nina West – Excerpt & Review

by Nina West
Genres: Contemporary Romance

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Nina West’s WOLF PREY, the highly anticipated next book in her Wolf Cove Series is now available! Check out all of the stops and excerpts on the review & excerpt tour for WOLF PREY and be sure to grab your copy today!

 

 

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About WOLF PREY (Wolf Cove Series #3):

Forced to leave Alaska to run the family farm while her father recovers from a tragic accident, Abbi heads home knowing she has the one thing she wants most again –Henry’s affections. She’s determined to not let anyone get in the way of that again.

But love for Abbi has never been easy.

With an overbearing mother who believes she has the right to approve who her daughter loves, a childhood ex-boyfriend who will do anything to win her back, and a wealthy, handsome boyfriend who always gets what he wants, Abbi soon realizes she may have to make some impossible choices.

Wolf Prey is Book 3 in the Wolf Cove series and should be read after finishing Wolf Bait (Book 1) and Wolf Bite (Book 2).

** The Wolf Cove Series will only be available for sale at Amazon. You can download a free Kindle reading app for any smartphone or tablet here: http://amzn.to/2dsEz6w

Amazon US | Amazon UK

WOLF PREY can be read from free in Kindle Unlimited!

Add WOLF PREY to your Goodreads!

 

 

 

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Review

4-star

My favourite book of the series so far!!!

But damn! I wanted to shout out at her momma to get real and stop trying to make Abbi into someone that she is not. And damn, if Henry wasn’t even more swoon-worthy and pantie melting in this one. And I even managed to have a little daddy crush on Abbi’s fathers! Don’t shoot me he was so adora-bubble!!!

Extremely easy to read and great flowing book and series.

You definitely need to read the first two books before reading this one, they are all worth the read!

Reviewed by Cherie

 

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 Excerpt

What’s wrong? Does hearing that they’re with someone else bother you?”

“No! Of course not!” Just as quickly, I meet his gaze. “I wish I could erase what happened.”

He strolls slowly toward me, his scrutiny of the barn now shifted fully to me. To my face, and then lower, over the buttons of my dress that run from neck to knee. The dress does very little for my figure, though Celeste did put in darts at the chest to give it at least a bit of shape. “Why? Because you didn’t enjoy it?”

I open my mouth to say “yes,” but falter, because that would be a lie. I did enjoy it. “Because I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I let you go. I have no right to be mad at you for what happened.”

“So it doesn’t bother you?”

“That you were with someone else? I fucking hat it. Every time I think about it, it’s like a punch to my gut.” He heaves a sigh, reaching up to run his finger along the collar of my dress. “But I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself for ever allowing things to go the way they did. Had I been completely open with you, had I put you before myself and Wolf Hotels, we could have avoided it all.”

His fingers leave my dress to wipe the tear that slipped from my eye. “I’ll try not to bring it up again. Okay?”

My head bobs up and down. I slide off the bale of hay and reach for him, needing to feel his mouth on mine, his body against mine. I press myself against him and rope my arms around his neck, pulling him into my mouth, trying to convey how badly I want him, how much I feel, with each graze of my lip, with each stroke of my tongue.

“You can’t start this now, Abbi,” he growls between kisses, his arms tightening around me, pulling me closer to him. I feel him growing hard against me.

“Why not?” It comes out in a painful moan.

“Because I have to go if I want to get to New York tonight, and we both know your mother would not be okay with his happening under her roof. Neither would your father. I can’t disrespect them like that.”

“It’s the barn, not the house,” I counter with a pout. He’s right.

And yet I can’t just let him go. I’ve been watching him all day long, sneaking in touches wherever I can, thinking about kissing him but unable to, imagining him undressed in front of me, remembering what it looks like when he strokes himself for me at night.

I’m completely wound up, and no amount of touching myself is going to satisfy me.

Plus, who knows when I’ll see him again!

“Hold on a second.” I pry myself away from him and dart over to the open doors. It looks like the last of the revelers have left. All the cars are gone, even the Enderbeys’. I can see Mama moving about in the kitchen. No doubt Daddy’s in his bed already, exhausted from the day.

My stomach flutters with excitement. “Follow me.” I smile at him as I head to the other side, the one that faces the open fields. The sun’s just dipping below the horizon, leaving streaks of hazy pink and purple, promising another hot day tomorrow.

“What’s out here?” he asks, eyeing the stack of hay that’s sitting just outside the door. It’s a nice place to sit and rest after a long day.

“No roof.” I smile as I reach up to unfasten the top button of my dress.

He smirks. “Sex by semantics?”

“It’s the only way.” I drop my voice to a soft lull. “And I need you.”

And don’t miss the first books in the Wolf Cove Series, WOLF BAIT and WOLF BITE!

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WOLF BAIT Amazon US
WOLF BAIT Amazon UK

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WOLF BITE Amazon US
WOLF BITE Amazon UK

The Wolf Cove Series can be read from free in Kindle Unlimited!

About Nina West:

Nina West lives in the city but spends her summers in the wilderness with her husband. She loves having a steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and a steamy story full of angst in the other. Follow her on Facebook or on Twitter!

 

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