Porn Star by Laurelin Paige and Sierra Simone
Release Date: March 8^th

Synopsis

You know me.

Come on, you know you do.

Maybe you pretend you don’t. Maybe you clear your browser history religiously. Maybe you pretend to be aghast whenever someone even mentions the word porn in your presence.

But the truth is that you do know me.

Everybody knows Logan O’Toole, world famous porn star.

Except then Devi Dare pops into my world, and pretty soon I’m doing things that aren’t like me—like texting her with flirty banter and creating an entire web porn series just so I can get to star in her bed. Again. And again.

With Devi, my entire universe shifts, and the more time I spend with her, the more I realize that Logan O’Toole isn’t the guy I thought he was.

So maybe I’m not the guy you thought I was either.

Buy Links

Amazon / iBooks / B&N / Kobo

Review

Any book written by Laurelin Paige and Sierra Simone is going to be off the charts hot, and when it’s set in the porn world, one can only imagine how explicitly sexy all of the sexual acts will be, and believe me, Porn Star is STEAMY, and there is a ton of filthy talking and filthy fucking, but the book is about so much more than the actual act of sex that happens in a porno, and even though the hero has the stage name of Logan O’Toole, he is definitely not a tool; in fact, he’s far from it, and because readers are privy to his internal monologues and diatribes, we understand why he loves his job so much and how he’s in it for more than just the sex because Logan works just as hard behind the scenes as he does in front of them. He’s not simply a performer, but he’s a creator, and he wants his films to be more than cheesy lined fuckfests.

I didn’t entirely know what to expect when I started Porn Star, not only because of the setting of the story but also due to the nature of that industry, but as Logan takes readers into his shoots, and we get explanations as to the set up and process of filming a scene, it does take on a more business like feel albeit a sweaty and steamy one, but one that clearly doesn’t involve emotions, and even though the very idea of that boggles my mind, the way Logan explains it logically makes sense BUT I just don’t think if I was the significant other of a porn star that I would be able to shut off my emotions and accept that his profession is having sex with other women because it seems too intimate an act and too much of a risk for feelings to develop.

What I found most interesting about Logan and Devi’s story is how easily fantasy and reality run together and muddle the idea of performing versus having authentic interactions, which only leads to further frustration for Devi because she wants the real thing with Logan; in fact, she’s masturbated so often to what she wished Logan would do to her and for her that having the flesh and blood man is almost a fantasy in and of itself. But what Devi struggles with is if Logan’s feelings and actions are for the scene or for her and that lack of knowledge destroys Devi to the point where she’s unsure of her role in Logan’s life as well as the porn industry.

Porn Star works because it gives a clear and honest picture of the porn industry – the good as well as the bad – and in doing so, readers are able to understand why people choose this profession and also comprehend what issues can get in the way of a relationship due to this career choice.

A complimentary copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

4.5 Poison Apples

Excerpt

I spin around and throw my phone as hard as I can into the pool.

It lands with a small splash, sinking like a brushed-aluminum stone straight to the bottom. My momentary satisfaction is eclipsed by immense regret, because I just got that phone a few weeks ago. Fuck it, I can get a new one tomorrow. If that’s the price I have to pay to keep myself separate from Raven, then so be it.

I take a few healthy chugs of the Laphroaig.

“I hope you’ve got a good warranty,” a cheerful voice says from next to me. Even over the smoky scent of the whisky, I smell her. Cinnamon and sunshine.

I inelegantly swallow the Scotch still in my mouth, turning to face the person next to me. “Devi.”

She flashes me her sunny grin, and then returns the greeting by playfully bumping her shoulder against my arm. Heat flares across my bicep, emanating from the place where our bare skin touched, and the heat slowly migrates towards my chest, independent of the blood now pumping to my groin.

I am suddenly very aware of the fact that Devi and I have never been alone. Strange, given that we’ve given each other orgasms, but Raven’s Real Playdates was the only time we’ve worked together, and there are so many people on a porn set that it’s impossible to feel any sense of alone-ness, even when you’re staring them in the eyes while they suck you off. And even though we’ve seen each other at parties and events since then, we’ve only ever said hi or how are you or where’s the drinks? Not exactly the basis for a deep understanding of one another.

So I should probably explain why I just chucked a brand new phone into the water, and also maybe not reveal the fact that I have a massive crush on her.

I try to muster the casual, flirty guy I was earlier tonight. “Devi, I…”

I jack off to you almost every day.

“…I, uh, didn’t know anyone else was out here. Or I wouldn’t have, you know.” I mime throwing the phone.

She laughs and then bends down to unfasten her leather heel. “If it’s in a good case, it might still be okay,” she says. I watch, transfixed, as she kicks off both shoes, shimmies out of her shorts, and then walks to the edge of the pool. She’s wearing what legally might qualify as underwear, but only just barely.

Have I mentioned Devi Dare’s ass? Because I should. She has one of the best asses known to mankind. Plump and thick and juicy, the kind of ass that invites biting and squeezing, and the way it slopes out from her small waist is pure poetry. And those legs—despite the obvious muscles in her calves and thighs, they still move as she walks, like her ass does, and there’s something so healthy about it, so tantalizing about her body with its wide hips and slightly soft stomach and full breasts. She’s sexy in such a visceral, biological way, the kind of way that says you want to make babies with me. My cock lengthens as I watch her, tens of thousands of years of evolution telling me to haul her off and impregnate her.

She turns, hands on her hips. “Are you going to join me?”

“I was just enjoying the view,” I say, and it comes out a little too raspy, a little too honest, but then I follow it up with a weak grin and then she laughs and jumps into the pool. With a final gulp of whisky, I put the cork in the bottle and then fling myself in after her, clothes, shoes and all.

The water is cool and it’s the best kind of contrast to the dry heat of the night and the warmth of the Scotch in my stomach, and the new kind of warmth that’s agitating in my chest, something frictive and thrilling and pressing up against my anger and my broken heart. Something that started the moment Devi brushed up against my arm.

I jumped into the deep end, and so it’s a few beats before my feet press flat against the bottom and I can push myself back up. I break the surface, sputtering, and awkwardly try to swim over to Devi with one hand still clenched around my Scotch bottle. She treads water as steadily and gracefully as a water nymph, her long hair floating around her shoulders and her gold top drifting away from her skin, giving me just the barest glimpse of one nipple, dark rose and peaked into a tight furl. Water droplets cling to the thick fringe of her eyelashes.

“You’re not very good at swimming,” she points out as I make my way closer.

“Never liked it much,” I say, swimming past her and moving to where my feet can touch. With a sigh of relief, I set my feet down, examine the Scotch bottle to make sure no pool water leaked in, and then I take a long drink. I’m on my way to being drunk, but I’m intent on sealing the deal. What can I say? I’m a finisher.

Devi drifts up next to me, holding something in her hand. It takes me a minute to realize that it’s my phone, the entire reason we spontaneously jumped into the pool in the first place. And somehow, miraculously, the pricey case the Apple Store girl talked me into buying has saved the phone. The screen still glows with my unwritten text message.

Somehow, between the pool and the Scotch and Devi Dare with no pants on, I’ve lost the urge to talk to Raven. I take the phone and toss it carelessly onto the concrete and then turn back to Devi.

“You, on the other hand, seem like quite the swimmer,” I say with a smile, offering her the Scotch. She takes it and raises the bottle to her lips.

“I was raised in California, you know,” she says and then takes a drink.

“Well, so was I. But my parents are Boston transplants, so I guess they never saw swimming as a priority for me.”

She hands the bottle back to me. “I think I had floaties before I had a bicycle. My parents are very, uh…” She searches for the right words. “Natural people. They think it’s important to be periodically cleansed of negative energy, and flowing water is one of the best ways to do that. So we went swimming at least once a week.”

I can see the faintest blush coloring the apples of her cheeks, as if she’s embarrassed of what her parents believe. And then I wonder if she’s embarrassed because she believes it a little too.

God, that blush is so sexy. I want to lick it right off her face. And then pin her down and lick her everywhere.

She tilts her head to the sky. “You can see Cassiopeia tonight.”

I look up, following her gaze, but I see nothing other than the golden glow hovering above the city and a smattering of faint, twinkling stars. “Is Cassiopeia a constellation?” I venture.

She laughs and nods, and then she reaches over and takes my head in her hands. My pulse thrums, that warmth in my chest explodes into flames, and I want her to kiss me kiss me kiss me, but before I can turn my head to her, she trains my face to the sky, facing the right direction this time.

“Do you see it?” she asks. Her mouth is close to my neck, and I wonder what it would feel like if she bit me there. “It looks like a letter M.” She traces the shape of it with her fingers, until finally I see it–an underwhelming handful of tired stars.

“You can’t see it this far into the city sometimes,” she continues.

“Cassiopeia sounds like a porn name,” I say frankly and she laughs again.

“Ptolemy named it.”

I give her a blank look. I got pretty good grades in school, but it’s been more than ten years since graduation, and anything not intimately related to film or the kind of math I need to run my business has been filtered out of my brain.

“Ptolemy was a Greek astronomer,” she explains, giving me an amused glance. “He named it after a famous queen in Greek mythology. She was so beautiful and vain and boastful that she brought the wrath of Poseidon down on her kingdom.”

Beautiful, vain, boastful. My mind swerves back to Raven, possibly still in this very house, possibly still being screwed with that evil smile on her face. Where is Poseidon when you need him?

No.

No, I won’t let Raven crowd into my happy, drunk moment with Devi and the Scotch. I speak as much to drive away thoughts of my ex as to comment on Devi’s astronomy knowledge. “You know a lot about this shit,” I tell her, turning my eyes back to her face completely.

And now she really blushes. “I really like astronomy. Stars and galaxies and stuff. It makes life feel so…big…you know?”

The thing is, I do know. That big feeling, I mean. I get it every time I watch an amazing film, every time I imagine my own films with just the right setting and just the right cinematography and just the right score.

“I’ve never met a performer who’s told me anything like that,” I say. And it’s true. Not once have I been around another adult film star and had them confess a purely impractical fascination. A call toward something that makes them feel like life is magical.

She blinks, and the way her long, thick eyelashes brush against her wet cheeks is arresting. “Really?”

“Really. Devi Dare, I do believe you are my first.”

Goodreads

Catch up with Logan O’Toole HERE

Enjoy a sneak peek of Porn Star’s Logan O’Toole now on iBooks: http://apple.co/1Vlrew9

About the Authors

Laurelin Paige is the NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She’s a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters.

Sierra Simone is a USA Today Bestselling former librarian (who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk.) She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City

Connect with the Authors

Laurelin Paige

Facebook / Twitter / Amazon / Goodreads / Instagram / Website

Sierra Simone

Facebook / Twitter / Amazon / Goodreads / Instagram / Website

Review

Sebastian says…

“Nothing in the universe could make me leave her side.”

Rosslyn says…

“Nothing could take me away from you.”

“I’d never give up the chance to spend the rest of my lie with you.”

BUT the past says…

“Happily ever after didn’t exist…at least not for her.”

Just one more “play thing”

“Another name in his little black book”

This reviewer says…

With a “black heart” and a “black past,” Sebastian and his “Jessica Rabbit” need the strength and the gumption to not bend or break to anyone but each other. But, that’s easier said than done when threats and deception rule the world Sebastian resides in and with some hellbent on payback for any number of things, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep the woman who changed him…who brought light into his dark world, safe, even if it means destroying them and turning his heart black once again.

Sebastian Black is an alpha to the extreme, and Tabatha Vargo and Melissa Andrea showcase his dominant personality through this book, but what the authors also do is illustrate his insecurities, his fears, his torture, and his heartbreak. Sebastian is not an easy man to love because of his need for control and his belief that he always knows best. But, Rosslyn fits him perfectly because she has the courage to go toe to toe with him and make him work for everything that he “takes” from her.

Vargo and Andrea effortlessly capture Rosslyn’s pain and heartache when everything in her life turns sideways. Her feelings resonate off of the pages, and readers can’t help but be broken right along with her because it’s easy to understand her emotions. But, we also see Rosslyn’s backbone in Little Black Break, and even though she may not go about some things the right way, which ends up causing her more issues, at least she holds her ground with Sebastian and doesn’t allow him to walk all over her, which is what attracted Sebastian to Rosslyn in the first place.

Little Black Break proves that the sins of the past never truly go away and that without trust and honesty, the push/pull and give/take aspects of their relationship that have worked so well between Sebastian and Rosslyn won’t hold up to what is thrust at them because the foundation will already be cracked.

Sebastian Black put his little black book away in order to be with the woman he loves, but what happens when he can’t prevent them from breaking?

A complimentary copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

4.5 Poison Apples

Havoc (Storm MC #8)
by Nina Levine

Genre: MC Romance
Cover Designer: Romantic Book Affairs
Release Date: March 8, 2016

While this is the eighth book in the series, it has been written as a stand-alone so new-to-the-series readers can read and enjoy it without having read the other books.

Meet Havoc…

I was happy doing my own thing.

No connections.

No demands.

No problems.

Just me, my club and a whole lot of dirty work to take care of.

She never wanted a biker.

She wanted stability and I gave up on that years ago.

We tried to fight it.

Neither of us wanted it.

But she calms my fury and I show her a man who accepts every part of her.

Now we’re trying to figure out how to be together.

Because when the need for each other is this strong, to deny it will only cause complete havoc.

Goodreads

iBOOKS | AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA | AMAZON AU | NOOK | KOBO

Review

Havoc is a man who needs control and refuses to give it away to anyone and that idea was reinforced even more so when the woman he gave up everything for betrayed him and left him living a nomad lifestyle – one with no attachments or feelings.

Havoc lives for his club, and that’s about it, but when he meets Carla, he loses control, and this time around, he’s not certain he wants it back because the woman who’s completely unlike his usual flings does something to him that makes him want more for the first time in years, but he doesn’t know how to build something with Carla when he loves his life on the road even though being without her may cause more damage to his life than he’s willing to have.

If there’s one thing I’ve come to expect from Nina Levine’s alpha bikers is their dirty minds and mouths, and Havoc definitely defines sexy as sin, but what I love even more is the fact that Nina created a heroine who can hold her ground in terms of dirty talk and can be as upfront and honest as she needs to be to prove herself to those who doubt her.

Havoc and Carla may not have been in each other’s life plans, but it doesn’t stop them from needing and holding onto each other even when those around them don’t like their relationship. Their connection was inevitable from the start, and Levine takes them on a journey that proves to them that what they have is more than sex…more than worth giving up control for and proving to everyone that a violent man can be a better man with the right person.

Even though there are aspects of club life in Havoc, its main focus is on Havoc and Carla – working through their personal demons and finding a way to create a new life plan when someone enters it that you’re unwilling to live without.

A complimentary copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

4 Poison Apples

Excerpt

As I stepped through the bathroom doorway however, I found her. She was in the bath, plugged into her music with her eyes closed and her head resting on the edge of the bath.

I stopped and leaned against the wall with my arms folded across my chest. Watching her, my gaze travelled the length of her body. In the short time I’d known her, my appreciation of her body had grown. Where small tits hadn’t turned me on a month ago, I couldn’t get enough of hers.

Never letting me down, my dick grew hard while I took in her beauty.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I contemplated the wisdom of fucking her again.

I wanted to.

Hell, I fucking needed to.

She’s a brother’s sister for fuck’s sake.

I’d spent the last few hours going over and over that fact in my mind. My decision had been to head back to the motel, sleep on the couch and never taste her pussy again.

I hadn’t factored in having her naked body on display the minute I returned.

Shit.

“How long are you going to stand there staring at me?” she asked as she cracked an eye open to look at me.

“Until you get out and let me fuck you.” Both her eyes had opened and I pinned my gaze to hers, not letting her go.

Her eyebrows lifted. “I thought you were done with me.”

“Turns out I’m not.”

She stood and reached for her towel before stepping out. Continuing to hold my gaze, she slowly dried herself off.

Teasing the fuck out of my dick.

I fought the desire to reach out and rip the towel from her hands. My carefully constructed self-control was being tested and I knew it wouldn’t be long until I caved and took what I wanted.

Finally – finally – she finished drying off and closed the distance between us. “What if I’m done with you?” I knew she was full of shit by the breathless tone she used and the way her body leaned just that little bit too close to mine. It was like she was trying to hold herself back, but her body had a mind of its own and couldn’t stay away.

I lifted a brow. “Are you?”

“I should be. After the way you’ve been treating me, I really should be.” Still all breathy.

Still in this with me.

I unfolded my arms so I could curl my hand around her neck. Gripping her there, I said, “Yeah, you should be, but you’re not.”

I feel the same way.

With our faces so close that her breaths whispered across my skin, we stared at each other for a long time. The still air in the tiny bathroom consumed our apprehension piece by piece until all that was left was an unrelenting need to satisfy our hunger.

At the first sign of her softening, I tightened my hold on her neck and pulled her mouth to mine. She didn’t hesitate and a second later our bodies pressed together as hard as our mouths did.

The smell of her arousal overwhelmed me and I let her neck go so I could slide my hands around her ass and lift her. Turning, I held her up against the wall and groaned as she wrapped her legs around me. The urge to drive my cock as hard and fast as I could into her sweet cunt threatened to take over as the only thought in my mind, and I took a moment to work through that and get myself under control.

Resting my forehead against hers, I focused on my breathing while I gave myself a talking to.

Focus.

You’ve got this.

You’ve fucking done this enough times to know how to control yourself.

But I hadn’t.

I’d never fucked a woman like Carla.

Had never been with a woman who stole my control the way she did.

She invaded every fucking sense of mine until I didn’t know right from wrong, up from down, red from fucking blue.

“Havoc.”

My head snapped up and I found her staring at me.

Unsure.

“Are you okay?” she asked, lines creasing her forehead as she tilted her head, frowning at me.

I stepped back and let her go. “I need to slow this shit down.”

She stood naked in front of me with an expression on her face that seemed to be half confusion and half frustration. “What does that mean?”

I wasn’t sure I even knew.

“It means I want you sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed waiting for me while I take a minute,” I bit out. My head was so damn full I thought it might actually explode.

Too many thoughts.

Too many fucking feelings.

I jerked my chin at her and snapped, “Go.”

Her eyes widened a fraction and I pushed my breaths out while waiting for her to submit. When she didn’t, I growled, “Carla, I need you to go and sit on the bed. Now.”

“I’m giving you five minutes to get your head back in this. I’m all for bossy and shit, but I draw a line at whatever the fuck you call what you’ve got going on at the moment. Barking orders at me is a whole lot fucking different than dominating me.” With that, she stalked out of the bathroom.

Thank fuck.

iBOOKS | AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA | AMAZON AU | NOOK | KOBO

*******************************************

Have you met the Storm MC yet?

If you love a dirty talking, alpha biker this bestselling series is one you should check out today!

CLICK TO DOWNLOAD STORM FOR FREE

******************************************

Author Bio

ESCAPE WITH AN ALPHA

Dreamer.

Coffee Lover.

Gypsy at heart.

USA Today Bestselling author who writes about alpha men & the women they love.

When I’m not creating with words you will find me planning my next getaway, visiting somewhere new in the world, having a long conversation over coffee and cake with a friend, creating with paper or curled up with a good book and chocolate.

I love Keith Urban, Maroon 5, Pink, Florida Georgia Line, Bon Jovi, Matchbox 20, Lady Antebellum and pretty much any singer/band that is country or rock.

I’ve been writing since I was twelve. Weaving words together has always been a form of therapy for me especially during my harder times. These days I’m proud that my words help others just as much as they help me.

Sign up to Nina’s newsletter for alerts when new alphas are ready for you

Website | Facebook | Join Nina’s Reader Group | Amazon | Instagram | Pinterest

*******************************************

 

CLICK TO ENTER

ROUGH RHYTHM BY TESSA BAILEY IS NOW AVAILABLE

BUY LINK:

 http://amzn.com/B014V99DW6

Synopsis

God help the woman I take home tonight.

Band manager James Brandon never expected to find the elusive satisfaction he’d been chasing, let alone stumble upon it in some sleezy Hollywood meat market. Yet the girl’s quiet pride spoke to him from across the bar, louder than a shout. Troubled, hungry and homeless, she’d placed her trust in him. But after losing the grip on his dark desires that one fateful night, James has spent the last four years atoning for letting her down.

This time I’ll finally crack him.

Rock band drummer Lita Regina has had enough of James’s guilt. She wants the explosive man she met that night in Hollywood. The man who held nothing back and took no prisoners—save Lita. And she’ll stop at nothing to revive him. Even if it means throwing herself into peril at every turn, just to get a reaction from her stoic manager. But when Lita takes her quest one step too far, James disappears from her life, thinking his absence will keep her safe.

Now it’s up to Lita to bring James back…and ignite an inferno of passion in the process.

Reader Advisory: ROUGH RHYTHM contains fantasies of nonconsensual sex, acted upon by consenting characters. Readers with sensitivity to portrayals of nonconsensual sex should be advised.

Excerpt

This time she would finally crack him.

Ignoring stares from her cellmates, Lita jogged in place, preparing for the confrontation with James, her band manager. This was her ritual before shows, too. It loosened the limbs, shook out the demons. She took her role as drummer for Old News seriously, same way she considered riling up James a form of art. For four freaking years, they’d been repeating this song and dance—and Lita was over it. Today was the day James lost his cool. The way he’d lost it the night they met.

Remembering the state she’d been in when James found her, Lita jogged a little faster. At twenty-three, she wasn’t that scrawny, starving girl now. Not in most ways, anyway. The memory of what took place that night still had the ability to steal her breath, make her restless. But unlike the girl she’d been at nineteen, Lita didn’t wait for fate to wave its magical hand. No. She grabbed fate’s wrist and shook, shook, until the pieces fell into an acceptable pattern. That modus operandi is what had landed her inside a musky, Wilshire division holding cell of LA County’s jail system.

Lita didn’t have a head for numbers, but was pretty damn sure today would mark the twenty-first time James had bailed her out of a jail-type situation. Looking after the interests of Old News’s members was his job. Their relationship, however, fell outside the parameters of a typical musician-manager arrangement. Not that he would ever admit it. No, James simply continued to show up when Lita got into trouble, lecturing her about proper behavior on the way to dropping her off. And leaving. He left every time, that distinguished jaw of his firmly set, sunglasses hiding the guilt she knew lurked in his eyes four years later.

Not this time. Last night, Lita had gone above and beyond to ensure this morning wrought one of two outcomes: James quitting, giving up on her like everyone else did eventually, or his control finally slipped. One way or another, she wouldn’t be in limbo come tonight. She’d been there too long.

Lita stopped jogging when she heard the jingling of the guard’s keys. James was right on time, as usual. Her cellmates craned their necks, some coming to their feet in the hopes they were being released. Lita stowed a pang of sympathy and whipped her hair into a quick ponytail. The guard cast a tired-eyed glance in her direction and unlocked the door. “Lita Regina, your bail has been posted.”

About Tessa Bailey

Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop, driving cross-country to New York City in under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention. She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband of eight years and four-year-old daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.

Publishing Credits

Baiting the Maid of Honor, Entangled Brazen, June 2014

Unfixable (New Adult), Entangled Embrace, April 2014

Protecting What’s Theirs (novella), Entangled Brazen, March 2014

Staking His Claim, Entangled Brazen, February 2014

Asking For Trouble, Entangled Brazen, November 2013

Officer Off Limits, Entangled Brazen, June 2013

His Risk to Take, Entangled Brazen, May 2013

Protecting What’s His, Entangled Brazen, February 2013

Owned by Fate, Entangled Brazen, September 2014

Exposed by Fate, Entangled Brazen, October 2014

Riskier Business, Entangled Brazen, December 2014

Risking It All (Crossing the Line 1), Entangled Select, January 2015

Driven by Fate, Entangled Brazen, February 2015

Chase Me (Broke & Beautiful 1), Avon Impulse, March 2015

Need Me (Broke & Beautiful 2), Avon Impulse, April 2015

Off Base (novella) self-published, May 2015

Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line 2), Entangled Select, June 2015

Make Me (Broke & Beautiful 3), Avon Impulse, August 2015

Crashed Out (Made in Jersey 1), Entangled Brazen, December 2015

Boiling Point (Crossing the Line 3), Entangled Select, January 2016

Rough Rhythm, 1001 Dark Nights Project, March 2016

Thrown Down (Made in Jersey 2), Entangled Brazen, April 2016

Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line 4), Entangled Select, June 2016

Worked Up (Made in Jersey 3), Entangled Brazen, August 2016

Wound Tight (Made in Jersey 4), Entangled Brazen, December 2016

Susan Stoker

Justice for Corrie

Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes Book Three

Release Date: March 8, 2016

Blurb

** Justice for Corrie is the 3rd book in the Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes Series. Each book is a stand-alone, with no cliffhanger endings. **

Blind since birth, Corrie Madison relies on her other sharpened senses in her job as a chiropractor. Never did she imagine she’d have to depend on them to identify a killer. But when a man enters her practice, murdering everyone in his path, Corrie is the only witness—putting her directly in the killer’s crosshairs.

Officer Quint Axton wasn’t looking for love, or even a relationship, until he meets Corrie. Beautiful and brave, resilient and intelligent, she’s everything Quint wants—if he can keep her alive long enough to explore their mutual attraction. The threats on Corrie’s life are escalating. Surely a blind person is helpless against a ruthless killer?

Hardly. Corrie is about to prove that disabled does not equal defenseless.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28177947-justice-for-corrie

Buy links:

Amazon Kindle: http://amzn.to/1JKEklt

B&N Nook: http://bit.ly/1NB9UNy

iBooks: http://apple.co/1PBnbXJ

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1PBn9PF

Excerpt

Just as Corrie reached for the doorknob to see if she could find Shaun—he usually hung out in the makeshift break room toward the back of the clinic—she heard angry voices in the reception area, followed by a weird popping noise. She froze in her tracks and tilted her head to the side, trying to figure out what was going on.

It wasn’t until she heard Cayley’s scream cut short that Corrie figured out something horrible was happening.

Knowing better than to open her door and try to stop whatever was going on, Corrie stepped quickly away from the door and imagined her office layout in her head. As the popping noises and the screams continued—and got closer to her office—she frantically thought about where she could hide.

Her desk was large, and sat perpendicular to the doorway. She could walk from the door straight to the chair at her desk without having to swerve around any furniture. She kept her office purposely free of extraneous chairs and tables so she didn’t have to worry about tripping over them. She could hide under the desk, but wasn’t that where everyone always hid—and died doing it? If she was a crazy person hell-bent on killing everyone around her, that’s the first place she’d look for stragglers who might be hiding.

The exam door down the hall was opened and Corrie heard Mr. Treadaway ask, “Who are you?” before the awful popping sound came again.

Knowing time was running out, the gunman would be at her office within moments, Corrie made the split-second decision to see if she could fit in the small area under the sink. There was no other place she could hide.

When she’d been hired, there hadn’t been any extra space for her to have an office in the small clinic. A small break room had been converted for her, and the sink and cabinets still lined one wall. It would be a tight fit, an extremely tight fit, but Corrie didn’t hesitate.

Hearing the unsteady gait of someone walking down the hall, Corrie raced over to the sink and opened the cabinet underneath. She shoved her butt in first and wiggled it around, knocking over a few odds and ends that were stored under there in the process. She drew her knees up as close to her chest as she could get them and sighed in relief as she realized she fit, barely. Her neck was bent down at an awkward angle and she couldn’t breathe very well, but Corrie quickly, and quietly, closed one door, then the other, praying whoever was shooting wouldn’t think to look under the sink for anyone.

At the same moment Corrie heard the soft click of the cabinet door to her hiding place engage with the small magnet that kept it shut, she heard her office door burst open.

Because Corrie was blind, her other senses had always been more acute than a sighted person’s. She seemed to hear, smell, and taste what people with no disabilities couldn’t. The man who’d entered her office walked straight to her desk. Corrie heard her desk chair being pulled away. Yup, he’d immediately checked under there to see if someone was hiding from him. She heard him walk to the small window and held her breath.

Corrie nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the man’s cell phone ring. He answered it and paced around her office as he spoke to whomever was on the other end.

“Yeah? Just about. No trouble whatsoever. Easiest job I’ve had in a long time. Haven’t seen the asshole yet. Yeah, he was supposed to be here. I’ve got one more room to check. No, no witnesses. Yes, I’m fucking sure. He’ll wish he paid what he owes us once he sees what happened to his coworkers. Fuck off. You’ll hear from me when you hear from me.”

Corrie breathed shallowly, trying not to make a sound. She knew she was one cough, one muscle twitch, one wrong move away from death.

The shooter sounded mean. She couldn’t tell what he looked like, of course, but his voice had a unique accent. She couldn’t place it, but Corrie was pretty sure if she ever heard it again, she’d recognize it. She listened as he walked around the room one more time. It sounded as if he was limping; there was a light pause between his footsteps, as if he dragged one leg a bit more than the other.

She almost had a heart attack when he came over to the sink and turned on the water above her. Corrie heard it gurgling through the pipes her knees were jammed against and even felt the pipe warm as the liquid coming out of the faucet heated up. The water turned off and she heard the killer grab a paper towel from the stack next to the sink.

As she sat under the sink, wondering if the man would somehow realize she was there and shoot her in the head, Corrie could smell the cologne he was wearing. She’d never smelled anything like it before. If she’d met a man out at a party or a club, she might find the scent attractive, but because of her circumstance, and the knowledge that she was two inches away from death, she almost gagged at the stench of him. The smell of gunpowder also clung to the man, as if he were cloaked in it. Corrie knew she’d never forget the scent of his cologne mixed with that horrible smell of gunpowder.

Finally the man limped to the end of the row of cabinets and must’ve thrown away the wet paper towel he’d used to dry his hands. Such a polite murderer, not leaving any trash around. She heard him open the first upper cabinet and rummage through it.

What in God’s name was he doing? Shouldn’t he want to get away? He’d just shot and probably killed people—was he looking for condiments now? Why wouldn’t he just leave already?

She almost whimpered in relief when she heard the faint sound of sirens. Either someone in the clinic must’ve called 911 before they were killed or someone nearby heard the shots. It took the man another few beats to hear them and he’d opened another cabinet in the meantime. When he finally heard the wailing of the police sirens, he turned away from the cabinets and walked quickly to the door to the office with his uneven gait.

Corrie didn’t hear the door to her office close, and listened as the man walked to the last room he hadn’t checked yet. It was the small break room. Shaun obviously wasn’t there, because Corrie didn’t hear any more gunshots. The mystery man then walked back up the hall the way he’d arrived, and not too much later, Corrie heard nothing but silence.

The quietness rang in her ears. It wasn’t normal for her workplace. Usually she heard the sounds of keyboard keys clacking as Cayley worked on her computer. She’d hear Shaun talking with Cayley, or on the phone, or with a client. Clients sometimes spoke on their phones while they waited for their appointments, or talked to each other. Hiding under the sink, Corrie couldn’t even hear the hum of the air conditioner that usually drove her crazy by the end of each day. It had a high-pitched squeak that no one but her seemed able to hear.

Corrie’s legs were cramping, but she was too scared to move. She couldn’t see what was going on, if the man was really and truly gone, or if he had an accomplice. Maybe he was waiting to see if any witnesses, like herself, crawled out of their hidey-holes, so he could blow them away as well. She’d never been so scared in her entire life, and that was saying something.

Growing up blind hadn’t been a walk in the park. She’d made it through too many terrifying situations to count, including being lost in the middle of a large shopping mall. Or the time she went out with friends in college and got separated from them when a fight broke out in the bar they were in. Corrie could hear grunting and fists hitting bodies, but had no idea which way to go to escape the danger all around her.

But this—this was a whole new kind of scary.

Corrie stayed huddled under the sink, listening as several people finally entered the clinic area. They didn’t say a word, but Corrie could hear them methodically making their way through each room, saying “clear” as they entered each one. It was obviously the police, and she’d never been so glad to hear anything in her entire life.

Not wanting to get shot, she didn’t dare pop open the cabinet doors to crawl out. When she heard two people enter her office, she took a chance and tentatively called out, “Don’t shoot! I’m a chiropractor. I’m hiding under the sink.”

“Come out with your hands up.”

“Okay, I’m coming, but please, don’t shoot me.” Corrie’s voice wobbled as she answered. She leaned against the cabinet door with her shoulder and as she expected, the small magnet holding it shut popped open easily. She tried to keep her hands in full view of whoever was in the room. She stuck them out first and swung her legs out.

“Slowly.”

She nodded at the terse order. Corrie heard a shuffling sound to her right and to her left. There were at least two officers in the room. She ducked her head and emerged from the small space with a relieved sigh, staying on the ground, knowing her legs wouldn’t be able to hold her up just yet anyway.

“Put your hands on your head and don’t move.”

She did as instructed, intertwining her fingers together on the back of her head, knowing the officers were probably jacked-up on adrenaline, and she didn’t want to survive the workplace shooting only to make a wrong move and be accidently shot by the good guys. She felt her wrists being forcibly grasped and held in place. She stayed sitting, waiting for more instructions. She felt another pair of hands patting down her sides, obviously looking for a weapon. After they found nothing, Corrie felt her hands being released.

“Who are you? What’s your name?”

“Corrie Madison. I’m a chiropractor here.”

“Can you tell us what happened?”

“I can tell you what I know, but please…is Cayley okay? What about Mr. Treadaway? I think there were others waiting for their appointments…” Her voice drifted off as she waited for reassurance that wouldn’t ever come.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Madison, they didn’t make it. Now, what can you tell us? What did you see?”

Corrie turned toward the demanding voice. Sometimes she forgot people couldn’t tell she was blind. It was refreshing, 

usually, but she’d give anything, absolutely anything at this point, to be able to tell this officer that she could identify who had killed her coworkers. She tried to hold back her tears. This was no time to lose it.

“I’m blind, officer. I didn’t see anything.”

About Susan Stoker

Find Susan Stoker Online

More from the “A Modern Fairytale” Collection from Katy Regnery

The Vixen and the Vet
A Modern Fairytale

**WINNER 2015 Kindle Book Awards (Romance)**

**2015 RITA Finalist!**

“With Southern charm and a deeply romantic plot, readers will fall in love with this modern day fairy tale.” –RT BOOK REVIEWS

In this modern-retelling of “Beauty and the Beast,” Savannah Carmichael, betrayed by an unreliable source, returns to her hometown of Danvers, Virginia with her once-promising journalism career in ruins. Given the opportunity to get back in the game by writing a patriotic human interest piece, Savannah turns her attention to the town hermit, Asher Lee, a wounded veteran who returned to Danvers eight years ago, and hasn’t been seen since.

After an IED explosion in Afghanistan took Asher’s hand and disfigured half of his face, he’s lived a quiet life on the outskirts of Danvers where the locals respect his privacy…that is, until Savannah Carmichael comes calling in a borrowed sundress with a plate of homemade brownies. When Asher agrees to be interviewed by Savannah, he starts feeling things for the beautiful reporter that he hasn’t felt in years.

Misfits in small-town Danvers, Savannah and Asher create a bond right away, touching each other’s hearts in ways neither thought possible. When a terrible mistake threatens to drive them apart, they’ll have to decide if the love they found in one another’s arms is strong enough to fight for their hard-won happily ever after.

The Vixen and the Vet is a standalone novel inspired by Beauty & the Beast. Contemporary Romance: Due to profanity, realistically depicted scenes of war and very strong sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

All novels in the ~a modern fairytale~ collection are written as fundraisers.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22888713-the-vixen-and-the-vet

Buy Links:

Amazon Kindle: http://amzn.to/1pqNxXh

B&N Nook: http://bit.ly/1oWolqW

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1TftXth

iBooks: http://apple.co/1TVpNH3

Google Play: http://bit.ly/21LhIJQ

Never Let You Go
A Modern Fairytale

In this modern retelling of Hansel and Gretel, 13-year-old foster children, Holden and Griselda, escape from their abductor after three years of brutal captivity and try to cross the Shenandoah River on foot. Tragically, one of them makes it to safety but the other is left behind.

Ten years later, Griselda’s boyfriend drags her to a fight club grudge match where her world is turned upside down when she watches Holden step into the ring.

Though the connection between them is fierce, bitter regret, simmering rage and a cache of physical and emotional scars lie between them, just as dangerous as the whitewater of the Shenandoah.

Never Let You Go is a story of fear and hope, defeat and survival, and two people – once profoundly broken – who discover that love is the only thing that can make them whole again.

This is a standalone novel inspired by Hansel & Gretel. New Adult Contemporary Romance: Due to profanity, scenes of physical abuse and very strong sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18. (Note: children are notsexually abused in this book.)

In June and July 2015, 25% of all gross royalties were donated to Operation Underground Railroad (a partner of the Elizabeth Smart Foundation).

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23010970-never-let-you-go

Buy Links:

Amazon Kindle: http://amzn.to/1pqNGtI

B&N Nook: http://bit.ly/1RtsKsq

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1QwE0Ij

iBooks: http://apple.co/1UG1bBB

Google Play: http://bit.ly/24GPuyZ

About Katy Regnery

Find Katy Regnery Online

Title: SIX (Men By Numbers Series Book 2)

Author: Ker Dukey

Release Date: Please see “A letter from the author”

Cover Designer: Amy Queau

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1O1vWt6

SIX:

I grew up in the foster system and bounced around from place to place… I know what you’re thinking.

Bad things happened to me and fucked me up?

Don’t feel bad for me. I didn’t know a privileged life therefore I didn’t miss one.

I was what I was and I made it work. I actually had a few good homes in my lifetime, met some good people but that’s not what my stories about.

It’s not a Romeo and Juliet saga either, even if our stories do revolve around similar bases.

I knew a real love, a rare love… a love between two people that were never supposed to fall in love.

Rival gang members are never allowed to fall in love and it cost us everything.

The things I learned growing up the way I did is this:

Love is deadly and often not real.

People come and go and only the rare few stick around when shit gets tough.

I learned the hard way what lurks behind false smiles and that deceitful truths get whispered in sexual moans.

I was taught that dark souls are not born but they are created and you can avoid them, hide from them or learn and become them.

Revenge sculpt and molded me into the darkest of souls and with my wrath comes agony and torment more severe then hell itself.

I took out six of the men who hurt my woman and I will be coming for the rest.

Get in my way and I’ll come for you too.

A Letter From The Author

Dear my wonderful readers,

As some of you might know (if you follow me on social media) I’m currently ‘very’ pregnant. My daughter is due in less than three weeks and although we are extremely pleased to have our precious gift join us, it has been very tiring and will continue to be so. I’m telling you this to ask that you have patience when it comes to Six’s release. I’m hoping to stay on a steady writing course but we all know baby’s can be unpredictable. As can recovery after surgery, and that’s how our daughter must enter this world.

I have given Six, a July release date to relieve any pressure on my part. I may finish and release sooner but would rather give a later date to begin with than an earlier one and have to push it back. Six is shaping up to be a wonderful, fascinating and extremely yummy character and I know any wait will be worth it. Thank you for your understanding and support, you all mean the world to me and I can’t wait to bring you Six’s story. I hope you like the cover as much as I do, Amy Queau is very talented, and done an amazing job capturing everything I envisioned for this cover.

I would just like to mention a huge thank you to you amazing bloggers. Thank you so much for all your selfless work in sharing this cover and any of my work. As soon as I have dates for arcs an email will be sent out to inform you.

All the best, Ker.

Instagram / Facebook / Newsletter / Twitter / Goodreads/Amazon/Tsu

Title: Awakening (The Journals Trilogy, #3)

Author: D.M. Earl

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: Spring 2016

Synopsis

I’m safe.

And so is my family. All because of the sacrifice Stone made to save us. I don’t know what has happened to Stone or Walker, but I believe in my heart that Stone will do everything he can to make sure Walker never comes near us again. I know he’s out there, and I cannot allow myself to think otherwise. He will come back to me, to us.

So until that happens, and knowing that, I need to work to make my family and myself whole again. Life can bring unexpected joys and sorrows, and it’s up to me to begin the healing process for us all. I need to be strong, and that’s what I plan to do.

I’m no longer a victim because Stone showed me that I was so much more. Life is worth living.

My name is Quinn, and as I awaken from my dark past, and violent present, I will start to truly live.

The future has never been so bright.

About The Author

D.M. Earl lives in Northwest Indiana. She is an avid reader and will devour a book usually in a day. She reads anything from romance, contemporary, erotica and dark reads.

She also loves to ride her Harley next to her hubby. Also D.M. likes being outdoors either working in in the mud on her flower beds or garden or just hanging with her 10 four legged fur “kids.”

Connelly’s Horde is her first published work released July 3, 2014. This is a Novella in her series Wheels & Hogs. Cadence Reflection Book 2 released on November 21, 2014. Gabriel’s Treasure Book 3 in the series released on July 6, 2015. Book 4 is in the works hoping to release in Winter 2016. D.M. has already thought out Books 5 thru 8 so lots more coming from the Horde.

D.M. then started a second series, The Journals Trilogy which is a dark read filled with suspense and drama. Anguish #One released on May 11, 2015. Vengeance #Two releases on December 20, 2015. The final Book #Three will release also sometime in Winter of 2016.

Please check out her Author pages at:

Amazon | Facebook | Twitter | Email

Buy The Books

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway