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Release Date: March 31st

 

Blurb

Taz:

My life is finally perfect. My dreams have all come true. I’m where I want to be with the bureau; having the career I’ve been planning since I did my stint in the military. I’m married to the one and only woman I’ve ever loved; my heart beats for her alone. Together we’ve made beautiful babies that I adore. I’m thirty-three years old and I’m complete.

Then one day, it all changes. Slate recruits me for a temporary assignment that is underneath the radar for a reason. The bureau hasn’t sanctioned it as a priority, but Slate feels it is because of who is involved: Sue Ellen Reynard. Yeah, remember her?

Lindsey:

Our lives were perfect. Taz and I had everything we’d ever hoped for: family, careers and an everlasting devotion to one another. Suddenly nothing is the same. In a single moment, my biggest fear is realized by one phone call from Slate: an ‘agent is missing’.

My agent; my Taz . . .

This is just the beginning of our long journey. Will things ever be the same again?

Excerpt

Lindsey gave me the silent treatment on the way over to Ralston’s office. “How did you know where I was? I asked.

“Slate.”

“Hey, I said I was sorry. We’re not all that late,” I pointed out to her.

“It’s rude to keep Dr. Ralston waiting, Trace. I don’t do rude. I thought this counseling was important to you, apparently I was wrong.”

I stopped instantly and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her around to face me. “What the fuck, Lindsey? What’s up your ass at the moment?”

She gave me a glare. “It just seems to me that you might find more productive ways to spend your time when you’re here other than flirting your ass off with the resident skank,” she snapped, jerking her arm free and turning her back on me.

Fuck to the no!

“Wait one damn minute,” I growled, spinning her back around to face me. “It just so happens I went to the shooting range because I’ve been trying to qualify to the new standards. It’s a requirement for all agents to recertify. Diana’s job is to ensure that they do.”

“Hmmph,” she snorted derisively, “It looked pretty cozy to me, but that’s neither here nor there because it sounds to me as if you plan on continuing your career with the Bureau once you’re cleared.”

“And why shouldn’t I? It’s the career I’ve had for years, what do you expect?” I was getting angrier by the second, and her eyes were flashing pure pissed green at the moment.

Time for a showdown.

“I don’t know why I would expect any less,” she snapped, “It’s always been about the FBI, right? It’s never been about me and the kids, has it?”

That did it.

I totally lost it when she flung those words at me. No matter how much I still didn’t remember, one thing that I knew, with every fiber of my being, was that what she’d just said had no truth to it. And what really burned my ass was that she knew it too!

I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up against me. My eyes bored into hers and without thinking, I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her with a vengeance. It was the first time my lips had touched hers since I’d been back. There was no tenderness; it was my way of claiming her and taking possession of what was mine. She would not deny me this.

Her fists pushed against my chest, and then she attempted to pull away, but her efforts were no match for my strength and determination. My lips worked hers, and my tongue invaded her mouth and possessed it. “Stop,” I growled pulling back briefly to look down at her, “Don’t resist me.”

It was something I might’ve said to a perp that was resisting arrest, but at this moment, I was saying it to my wife.

My mate.

The woman that I loved more than life itself.

And suddenly the realization that this was the truth overwhelmed me. My tempo slowed, morphing from anger to affection; and from frustration to need.

Lindsey felt the change and stopped struggling against me. Her arms looped around my neck, and her lips started responding to mine. It was familiar, and as my tongue once again found hers, we struck a rhythm that was ours. I could feel her anger and bitterness dissipate. It was replaced with a soft sweetness that I remembered, and that I could totally bury myself into if only she would let me.

“Taz,” she moaned softly, finally pulling back a bit.

“Lindsey,” I breathed against her soft lips, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Come on, we’ve got to make our appointment,” she said softly.

And we did.

It was the first joint session that we’d had where Lindsey took her place next to me on the leather sofa, instead of her usual chair in the corner. Ralston didn’t miss it either, quirking an eyebrow as his eyes met mine with just a hint of amusement.

It was a fucking start.

 

About the Author

Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Amazon  | Goodreads

I was born and raised in southern Ohio, and with the exception of a brief stint in Dallas, TX, have been an Ohioan most of my life. My dream has always been to write a novel, and back in the early eighties I tried to do just that, having been influenced by authors such as Kathleen Woodiwiss, Johanna Lindsey, Rosemary Rogers and Laurie McBain. I remember writing to all of them through their listed publishers, and the only response I received was from Johanna Lindsey (who lived in Hawaii at the time.

Ms. Lindsey advised me to continue with my dream; and to submit to various publishers again and again. Of course, at that time, publishing e-books yourself was not on the horizon; there were vanity publishing houses of course, but she advised me to avoid those.

So my dream was put on the back-burner for more than 25 years until June of 2012 when suddenly I no longer had a reason not to write a novel. My sons were grown; I found myself without a career (blessedly) and the creative juices flowed once again.

I finished my first novel, “Maybe Baby” in September of 2012; the next two books in the “Baby Series” titled “Baby Love” and “Be My Baby” were published in early 2013. I learned a lot in my first endeavor with self-publishing. I’ve made so many friends as a result that it is over-whelming.

In the spring of 2013, I had an idea for a different type of Alpha, and wrote Book #1 of the “G-Man” Series, titled “Diamond Girl.” This book was well-received, and I followed it with Book #2, “Love Plus One.” These are stand-alone books.

I am finally doing what I love and I sincerely appreciate the wonderful readers who provide feedback and take the time to comment. I hope that with each book, my writing has grown and improved as I strive to publish quality fiction..

 

Very Twisted Things

A Standalone Briarcrest Academy Novel #3

Author: New York Times best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills

Introductory price of $2.99 on release day for 24 hours only!

 

 

A beautiful violinist who lives next door…

The obsessed rock star who watches her…

And the one night she bares it all.

Description

Vital Rejects front guy Sebastian Tate never imagined his YouTube music video would go viral, sky-rocketing him to acting success in Hollywood. Okay, maybe he did. After all, he’s a cocky dude who knows he’s hot-as-hell, and it was only a matter of time before his stars aligned.

But life in Tinseltown is never what it seems.

After being cheated on, Sebastian’s only rule to falling in love is simple: Keep Calm and Don’t Do It. Spying on his mysterious new neighbor with binoculars seems innocent enough, but quickly escalates into an erotic game between two very unlikely people.

Twenty-year-old Violet St. Lyons is a world-renowned violinist who’s lost her mojo on stage. She hides away in a Hollywood mansion, trying to find her way through her twisted past in order to make her future.

He’s the life of the party with girls chasing him down for his autograph. She’s the introvert with a potty mouth who doesn’t even know who he is.

When they meet, stars collide, sparks fly, and clothes come off. Yet, giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s.

Welcome to Briarcrest Academy—Hollywood style—where sometimes the best things in life are VERY TWISTED THINGS.

Buy Very Twisted Things on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1AGPMI9

 

Prologue ~ Violet

“Fairy dust is not real. This I know.” —from the journal of Violet St. Lyons

Boom!

I, Violet St. Lyons, who once believed herself the luckiest girl in the world, was born on the same day that the Violette–Sells comet was discovered. My parents, two avid stargazers, said it was a sign of how special I was and promptly named me Violet. They claimed my life had been blessed with fairy dust.

At the very least, comet residue.

I’d foolishly believed it for eighteen years, until the moment of my death.

Which was now.

Boom! Another explosion rocked the plane and metal ripped away as a section of the aircraft to my right vanished. Luggage flew through the air. People disappeared. The mom with the baby who’d sat in the aisle across from us—gone. The redheaded flight attendant who’d been collecting trash—gone. Disembodied screams echoed from the surrounding passengers as my own scream took up most of the space in my head. Air sucked at us viciously from the outside as a tornado of people banged around the space and one by one got pulled out into the swirling abyss.

I watched, helplessly transfixed, as I sat between my parents, gripping each of their hands as the plane we’d boarded six hours earlier for Dublin spiraled toward the Atlantic Ocean. I was going to die. My mother was already dead, a twisted piece of shrapnel sticking grotesquely from her chest as her head lolled around her neck. Blood had already soaked her shirt, yet I refused to let go of her hand. She’d be okay. We were always okay. We were the St. Lyons family of Manhattan, an icon of old money wealth with deep political ties. Page six of the New York Times featured pictures of us on a monthly basis. We couldn’t die on a plane.

Reality dawned as we plummeted. The yellow breathing apparatus dropped and dangled in my face, taunting me with its pointlessness. Fire and black smoke boiled in front of us where the cockpit had been, and my mind recognized that the pilots had to be dead. Just a few minutes ago, they’d come over the intercom and announced that the plane was making its descent into Dublin Airport exactly on schedule.

Then the first explosion had gone off.

Bits of debris flew around, narrowly missing me. My elderly father grabbed my hand and squeezed, his face drawn back in a horrible grimace.

Paralyzed in my seat, we spun like a drunken top, and a part of my brain noticed the sun was rising, its pink tinge lending a soft glow, catching the reflection of clouds and making them silver-lined. The rocky coast of Ireland glittered in the distance. Mocking me. We’d been headed there to celebrate my eighteenth birthday.

Just then my violin case flew past my head from the overhead compartment and crashed against the wall of the plane. Shards flew. I shuddered and wanted to vomit. God, help us. We were here because of me. Our deaths were my fault. I spared a glance at the diamond promise ring Geoff had given me before we’d left.

Would the Mayor of New York’s son go on without me?

The air was turbulent yet thin, and my chest tightened as dizziness pulled at me. I resisted. Had to stay awake. Had to be with my dad. I was younger, stronger, faster. My eyes went to the gaping hole in the plane. Had to think ahead. Plan. Water would fill up the plane on impact, ensuring we’d sink rapidly.

My fear escalated as the ocean rushed at us, its surface choppy and ominous. I took in a giant breath and braced myself. We hit at an angle, the plane a torpedo as it sliced into the sea. Daddy disappeared, ejected by the impact, and I yanked on my seat belt, unclicking it to go after him. Heart thundering, I sent a final look at my mother. I wanted to take her with me, but she was gone.

Water everywhere, bubbling and gurgling as it filled up the plane. Salt water stung my eyes. People floated by, some alive as they floundered for the opening. I kept my gaze off the dead ones. Focus. Get out. Only seconds left.

I swam from my seat and fought my way out of the large hole in the plane, lungs exploding. Burning. I’d been under too long.

Daddy! I caught a glimpse of his red shirt above me and kicked harder.

Up, up, up. Must get up. My arms moved. My legs kicked. Excruciating pain. Ignore it. Almost there. So close that I could see the daylight breaking through the water.

The hottest fire I’ve ever known lit in my chest. Scorching.

Air. Just want to breathe. Just get to the top. Please.

My body rebelled and I inhaled and swallowed water, the burn racing down my throat making it spasm as I tried to cough it out. I struggled but took in more and more, the cold liquid filling my lungs.

Dark spots filled my eyes. This was drowning.

Exhausted.

Done.

My body twitched. I grew disoriented.

I let go of the fight. My hands floated in front of me.

Oblivion.

Darkness.

No bright lights, no tunnel.

No heaven, no mother, no father.

No comets.

No fairy dust.

Chapter One ~ Sebastian 

Two years later

“She was music with skin.” —Sebastian Tate

I tapped my foot.

What was taking her so long?

From my backyard patio in the Hollywood Hills, I watched the odd girl next door with a pair of high-powered binoculars. She flicked on her porch lights, and a low whistle came out of me at the sexy red-as-sin robe she wore, its silky material flashing around her long legs as she moved around. Her hair was down, too.

This was new. Where were the usual yoga pants? The ponytail?

She looked like she knew someone watched, but that was impossible since our outside lights were off. Even the light from the moon hit our house at such an angle that she shouldn’t be able to see us just by glancing over. She’d need a high-powered lens to know I was here.

Usually she played facing her rose garden, but this time she walked to the right side of her patio, which faced us. Weird. But she didn’t play. She just stood there without moving. Staring toward our house. Uneasiness went over me.

What was she doing?

Could she see me?

As if it were a fragile bird, she positioned the violin under her chin and began playing, arms bent and wrist poised, making the most exquisite sounds. And I don’t mean classical like Beethoven or Mozart; I mean body-thrashing, blood-thumping, hard-as-hell music that had me rooted to the ground, like she’d slapped iron chains on me.

Dark and seductive notes rose up in the air, and I got jacked up, recognizing a Led Zeppelin song, only she’d ripped its guts out and twisted it into something electric. She pushed the bow hard, upping the tempo abruptly, her movements controlled yet wild. My pulse kicked up and my eyes lingered, taking in the slightly parted toned legs and the way her breasts bounced as she jerked her arms to manipulate the strings.

Her robe slipped off her right shoulder, exposing part of her breast. Creamy and full, it quivered, vibrating as she moved her arms. Her rosy nipple teased me, slipping in and out of the folds of the material. I pictured my mouth there, sucking, my fingers plucking, strumming her like my guitar until she begged me to—

Stop, I told myself. Whoever Violin Girl was, she didn’t deserve me lusting after her while she was pouring her heart out with music.

I zoomed in as far as the binoculars would go, watching her surrender to the music as she bent and swayed from side to side with her eyes closed, black lashes like fans on her cheeks. Every molecule in my body focused on her, hanging on to each note she pulled from her instrument.

She finished and kept her head bowed for the longest time, perhaps letting the emotion wash over her like it had me.

The entire event was surreal, yet poignant as fucking poetry.

I let out a deep breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.

Who the hell plays Stairway to Heaven with a violin? She did.

Bam! She snapped her head up, her eyes lasering in on mine, making every hair on my body stand at attention.

And then …

Standing there in the moonlight, she untied her robe and spread apart the sides ever so slightly, her movements seeming almost hesitant, as if she’d had to work herself up. Unfamiliar jealousy hit me and I panned out and checked the rest of the patio, expecting to see a lover. Whoever it was, I wanted to rip him apart piece by piece.

My gaze searched her patio, the backyard, her upstairs balcony. Nothing. No one.

She flicked her dark hair back and stroked the lapels of the robe, her fingers lingering over the lacy material. Suddenly the evening smacked of something more than just music. Her arms moved back and forth across the front, opening the robe halfway and then closing it as if she couldn’t make up her mind.

My eyes went up, trying to read her face. Still as a statue, the only movement was her mouth as it trembled, her full upper lip resting against the pouty lower one.

Violin Girl was trapped in a cage of darkness.

It still didn’t stop me from holding my breath, silently begging her to bare herself to me. She’d already laid bare her music. Part of me needed the rest of her.

She jerked the robe closed, making me groan in disappointment.

And then she did something completely crazy.

The lonely girl next door flipped me the bird.

© Ilsa Madden-Mills 2015 Very Twisted Things

 

Author Bio

New York Times and USA Today best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She’s addicted to dystopian and all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroines. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.

She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.

When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.

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Meet Bri & Luke in Sustain!  

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Blurb

I had a simple life.

I worked two jobs, made ends meet, and hung out with my mom and twin brother. The other part of my life was about avoiding him, but when SWAT raided my boyfriend’s home, that was the last straw. The boyfriend got tossed and to help me keep busy, my brother talked me into joining their old band again, but I had to be honest. It wasn’t a hard sell. Playing drums was in my blood. I used to be addicted and that craving hadn’t been satisfied in three long years. The only problem was their lead singer.

It was him.

The drums might not have been the only thing I was addicted to. I think I was still addicted to him too.

 

 

 

Excerpt (Bri’s pov)

Luke hit a jarring note on his guitar below, drawing me from the past and back to reality. Seriously. I’d been ready to take on two thugs beside a dumpster for my stupid-ass cousin, but this had ice filling my veins.

I rolled my eyes upward. What was wrong with me?

The melody was addictive. I felt it reach deep inside me and take root. My breathing wavered as he kept playing. He moved down a chord, and the sound of it seeped into me, smoothing out the haunted memories. Then he began singing. His voice was soft and low, but I could hear it as if I were in the room. He was weaving a spell. It was like he threw a spear that had a rope attached to it at me from a hundred yards away, and it embedded deep into my stomach. Then he began pulling on it. I couldn’t fight because it would yank out my insides, but damn, I didn’t want to go with it. This whole thing with Luke was both painful and exhilarating at the same time. I had two urges going through me at once. One was to crap my pants, and the other was to start doing cartwheels.

I was just messed up, which is why I started down the stairs. I still had no clue what to say, but I had to do something.

He was hunched over the guitar in his lap with a beer at his feet. His eyes were closed, and his head hung over the guitar as he hit another chord, his thumb beating out the base. Since he was only wearing jeans, I saw some of the scars on his back. A storm of regret, shame, and longing all swirled inside me. I wanted to go to him, run my hands over those scars, and make them disappear. I couldn’t, though. We weren’t close anymore.

So many ghosts within you

So many haunts to pull you away

You look, I reach out and there’s nothing to do

They take you from me again, far away

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t take your hand

He kept singing, and my heart felt like it was splitting into two, but then he faltered. His eyes opened, and he looked up. He didn’t stop playing, but he stopped singing.

I felt like he was strumming me. I couldn’t look away from his gaze. His thumb stopped hitting the bass, and his fingers slowed on the guitar. “What are you doing here?”

Right. I was pretty sure I was seeing lust in his eyes. With that thought, a fever took over my blood, heating me up. “I,” my tongue wet my lips, “um, I’m here to talk about you and me.”

His gaze clouded over, and his eyelids lowered. He bent his head back over his guitar, but he didn’t start strumming again. “There is no ‘you and me.’ You’re in the band. That’s it.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Luke,” I started.

“No.” He stood up abruptly, setting his guitar to the side. He advanced toward me, his eyes were smoldering.

When my back hit the wall, I realized I had nowhere else to go and could only watch as he closed in on me. A part of me wanted him to keep getting closer; the other part of me was still thinking about crapping my pants.

He leaned a hand against the wall beside my head, keeping a few inches between us. His eyes were hard as he said, “There is no you and me. That died long ago, remember?”

 

 

Author Information

I didn’t begin writing until after undergraduate college. There’d been storylines and characters in my head all my life, but it came to a boiling point one day and I HAD to get them out of me. So the computer was booted up and I FINALLY felt it click. Writing is what I needed to do. After that, I had to teach myself how to write. I can’t blame my teachers for not teaching me all those years in school. It was my fault. I was one of the students that was wishing I was anywhere but at school! So after that day, it took me lots of work until I was able to put together something that resembled a novel. I’m hoping I got it right since someone must be reading this profile! And I hope you keep enjoying my future stories.

Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Website | Goodreads

 

 

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Book Title: Take (scars of the wraiths)
Author: Nashoda Rose
Genre: Paranormal Romance with Erotic Elements
Release Date: February 25, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Blurb

MAX

Feelings are a luxury I can’t afford. Hidden behind a shield of quiet placidity, I keep my secret safe from those who’d use it against me. Until him—the tatted up, self-centered Scar assassin hired to protect me.

He takes pleasure in tormenting me, chipping away at my defenses as if I’m a toy to be played with. I hate that he continuously reminds me that I’m nothing more than a job. I hate that my body responds to his touch. I hate him.

JASPER

I’m not a good guy and I don’t pretend to be. Condemn me if you want, I don’t give a fuck. You’re nothing to me. No one is … except her—Max. She’s my target. And I was hired to do a hell of a lot more than protect her … I was hired to kill her.
It should’ve been simple, but it was complicated as hell.

*erotic paranormal romance. Standalone full-length novel. Come meet the Scars.

Scars: Immortal warriors with capabilities derived from the senses: Trackers, Sounders, Healers, Tasters, Visionaries, and the rare Reflectors. They each have what is known as an Ink, a tattoo that can be called life.

Review

I don’t read many paranormal romances anymore, but when I do, I always enjoy the blend of supernatural elements with suspense and steam. Nashoda Rose’s newest release, Take, is just what I look for in paranormal reads because it’s more romance and intrigue rather than a complex mythical world where readers can get lost in trying to remember all of the history behind the other worldly beings and where they all fit into the author’s creation.

Scars – it’s not a unique term, but for Nashoda Rose’s main characters, Max and Jasper, its meaning is twofold – it identifies them as the type of supernatural beings they are, and it speaks to the pain that both of them suffer due to a past with heartache and torment.

Jasper Kyelin is a rogue scar assassin – one who exudes arrogance and raw sexuality, which he uses to his advantage. Jasper is ruthless, never allowing emotions to factor into his actions. He uses anyone he can to get a job done, and it works for him because he refuses to get attached to anyone anymore – not after losing someone who meant the world to him. But for some reason, his newest assignment, Max, becomes way more to him than he’s even willing to admit because it forces him to move past the heartless, cocky asshole he’s so used to being and put someone else before himself for the first time in a really long time.

For four years, Max has been in hiding, forcing herself to shut off her emotions and become a submissive, shielding her mind from being penetrated by anyone who could force her into servitude again. Due to her past, she’s numbed herself to feeling anything, forcing herself into a shell that’s safe for everyone. She never counted on Jasper igniting a fire within her and forcing her to feel way more than she was willing to, which isn’t good for anyone involved but especially Max herself because regardless of how much she wished her life was different, she would always be simply a job…an object…a liability due to her strengths and her weaknesses.

I loved Max and Jasper’s story…the duality of both the hero and heroine and watching them tear down each other’s walls…Jasper is one cocky SOB, but it’s a facade he has grown accustomed to…a way to cope and harden himself. Max is a fighter on so many levels, and she is unrelenting in protecting herself and fighting for those who mean something to her. The supporting characters intrigue me, and I hope we’ll have a chance to hear their stories.

Take is a fantastic read with two strong lead characters whose connection smolders from their first encounter.  Because readers are given both Max and Jasper’s point of view, it’s easy to understand how both of them truly feel, which adds to the intrigue of the text.

If you love paranormal reads, this is definitely one I recommend.

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

4.5 poison apples

Excerpt

Jasper stopped, turned toward me, dragged his eyes down my front then yanked off his black t-shirt and tossed it to me.

I stared at his naked chest that was a hard slab of muscle with tats drawn across his left shoulder to link with the ones on his arm.

“Put it on. You stick out like a fuckin’ cotton candy with those stupid horse sparkles.”

I quickly put it on over top and it hung down to my mid-thigh. The scent of him drew into my lungs and I inhaled deeply with my chin down until I heard his distinct chuckle. Then I wanted to shoot myself in the foot.

Jasper’s hand came around the back of my neck and he jerked me toward him. He cupped my chin with his blade still in his hand so the handle was cold against my jaw. Then he leaned in and before I could take my next breath, his mouth was on mine.

 

Nashoda Rose is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Toronto with her assortment of pets. She writes contemporary romance with a splash of darkness, or maybe it’s a tidal wave.

When she isn’t writing, she can be found sitting in a field reading with her dogs at her side while her horses graze nearby. She loves interacting with her readers and chatting about her addiction—books.

 

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Blurb

From New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Nicole Edwards comes the seventh book in her Alluring Indulgence series, erotic romances featuring the Walker brothers from Coyote Ridge, Texas, and their sizzling-hot love interests.

Sawyer Walker has never run into problems with women. The female population tends to swarm toward him, in fact, and he’s never had a complaint.

But there’s one woman Sawyer has always had his eye on. A woman who won’t give him the time of day. In recent months, it would seem that Kennedy Endsley is opening up to Sawyer, but she’s got a few surprises in store for him. Because, as hard as she finds it to resist the handsome Walker brother, she won’t give in easily. Not when her heart is on the line.

 Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17305045-sawyer

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Nicole’s Website: http://nicedwardsauthor.com/sawyer-ai-7.html

Excerpt

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Cover by CT Cover Creations

Expected to release late 2015.

My name is Cale Kinley and I’m a fucking Virgin…

Well, with the exception of my tongue. The countless things I can do with my tongue are bound to leave you breathless and begging for more, but more… is something that I can’t give. It’s a choice. My choice.

There’s a reason for that. A very good reason, and that reason is her.

Riley.

She’s the only woman that I want to bury myself deep in. The one woman I have wanted since I was old enough to fuck.

I never got my chance though, because she left. She had no choice and it stung like hell. But I couldn’t let her leave without telling her how I felt. I wanted her to be my first and I didn’t give a shit how long I’d have to wait.

It’s been six years and now she’s back and sexier than all hell. Just the sight of her stops my damn heart from beating. I want her and for more than just having her as my first.

I’m determined to have her in every way possible. She thinks this is still a game; that I’ve already given myself to countless women. What she doesn’t know is that I have a lot of willpower.

When I want something as badly as I want her, I don’t let shit stand in my way. I’m going to prove that to her. There’s just one little problem I need to take care of…

Him.

Victoria Ashley grew up in Rockford, IL and has had a passion for reading for as long as she can remember. After finding a reading app where it allowed readers to upload their own stories, she gave it a shot and writing became her passion.

She lives for a good romance book with tattooed bad boys that are just highly misunderstood and is not afraid to be caught crying during a good read. When she’s not reading or writing about bad boys, you can find her watching her favorites shows such as Sons Of Anarchy, Dexter and True Blood.

She is the author of Wake Up Call, This Regret, Slade, Hemy, and Get Off on the Pain. Victoria is currently working on more releases for 2015.

Victoria’s Facebook Page

Contrite by Author Kathy Coopmans

Release Date- April 6th

Pre-order CONTRITE for an early price of 2.99. On release day the price will be 3.99.

Pre-order Link:

US- http://amzn.to/1Bgwn1f

AUS- http://bit.ly/1JQV226

UK- http://amzn.to/1AbI4AK

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24734716-contrite?from_search=true

Synopsis

What happens when the man you’re married to isn’t the man you married anymore? Clove Calloway knows within an hour of picking up her husband Turner from
the airport that something is different. Yet she can’t pinpoint what. Together since college, they know everything about each other. So why has she spent
the last few days watching everything he does, hoping for a clue?

What could have happened within that week he was gone?

One way or another she’s going to find out.

When Clove enlists in the help of her brother Zack, a police detective, she’s afraid her suspicions of infidelity will be confirmed. Terrified that such news will crush her heart, she sets about preparing for the worst.

Only to find it’s much more than she could have imagined—there is no other woman.

Clove’s life is about to descend into a web of deceit, lies and betrayal.

Appearances can be deceiving… and only the Master Manipulator will be left standing.

“The eyes only see what the mind is prepared to comprehend.” – Henri Bergson

Author Links

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKathyCoopmans

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8290626.Kathy_Coopmans?from_search=true

http://www.amazon.com/Kathy-Coopmans/e/B00MZMPCYU/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1408987455&sr=8-1

coopmans@chartermi.net

@authorkcoopmans for twitter and tsu

http://authorkathycoopmans.wix.com/website

Cover design by Sommer Stein

https://www.facebook.com/PerfectPearCreative

Perfect Pear Creative

Photographer- Kelsey Keeton of K. Keeton Designs

https://www.facebook.com/KKEETONDESIGNS

K Keeton Designs

Cover model Tessi Le’Anne

https://www.facebook.com/modeltessileanne

Model Tessi Le’Anne

Cover model Nathan Weller

https://www.facebook.com/wellenater

Model Nathan D. Weller

Blue Colla Make Ya Holla Box Set

Ten novellas featuring sexy blue collar men.

Brand new stories – never before released!

March 1, 2015

 Amazon: http://bit.ly/bluecollamakeyaholla
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/bluecollamakeyahollauk
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/bluecollamakeyahollaau
Google Play: http://bit.ly/bluecollagp
iBooks: http://bit.ly/bluecollaibooks
Kobo: http://bit.ly/bluecollakobo
Nook: http://bit.ly/bluecollanook

Featuring

Laramie Briscoe (Amazon Best Selling Author of the Heaven Hill Series)
Title: Hot, Summer Nights
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Dirt Track Racer

Chelsea Camaron (Amazon Best Selling Author of the Hellions Series)
Title: Heath
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Oil Rigger

Carian Cole
Title: Twist
Heat Level: Very Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Motorcycle Fabricator & Airbrusher

Seraphina Donavan
Title: Nobody But You
Heat Level: Very Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Tattoo Artist

Aimie Grey
Title: Never to Hope
Heat Level: Very Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Road Crew Worker

Bijou Hunter
Title: Rebound Biker
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Construction Worker

Stella Hunter
Title: Rescuing the Bridesmaid
Heat Level: Moderately Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Tow Truck Driver

Cat Mason
Title: Unhinged
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Roofer

Christina Tomes
Title: Defending Her Turf
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Owner of a Landscaping Business

Laramie Briscoe
Title: Rough Patch (Heaven Hill Series 6.5 – Jagger)
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Mechanic

 

Purchase the Book!

Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Google Play | iBooks | Kobo

Giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Night Shift Anthology Cover Reveal #1

Title: Wanting to Forget – A Jordie Thomas Tale
Author: Toni Aleo
Release Date: March 17, 2015

Click here to Pre-Order

Blurb

Jordie Thomas is looking for something to take his mind off of the woman he let go—or rather, pushed away—and the terrifying prospect of what will happen if his broken leg doesn’t heal. He’s ready to get back to his family and fellow teammates on the Nashville Assassins and get back onto the ice. However, with his injured leg in the way and his mind clouded by a certain woman, he needs a break that’ll help clear his head and his heart. With New Orleans in his sights, can this player—on and off the ice—find a way to get back to the crazy and reckless life he used to live? Find out and follow along as author Toni Also takes readers on one wild journey in this Assassins novella.

Night Shift Anthology releases on March 17, 2015. 6 NEW novellas from Toni Aleo, Kindle Alexander,
Sawyer Bennett, Chelle Bliss, Eden Butler, and Brenda Rothert.
100% of the proceeds will be donated to the Keith Milano Memorial Fund,
PanCan.org, and the Nashville Predators Foundation.

Hell’s Kitchen (Hell’s Kitchen #1)

by Hart Saint Germain

Release Date: March 3, 2015

Exclusive iBooks Pre-Order – http://bit.ly/1DqsA1t
Goodreads – http://bit.ly/1MkUqQV

**The Hell’s Kitchen series will be available on Amazon on release day. No pre-order option.

The *NEW* Blurb

Hell’s Kitchen (Hell’s Kitchen #1)

*From International Bestselling authors Callie Hart and Lili St. Germain comes a tale of two families co-existing in a melting pot of violence, murder and drugs in the seedy underbelly of New York City*

Hell’s Kitchen

Theo and Sal Barbieri are brothers, tasked by their Mafioso father Roberto with a very clear purpose: kidnap Kaitlin McLaughlin. The beautiful daughter of Roberto’s Irish enemy. It’s high time Kaitlin was punished for her father’s sins—not to mention, her own.

And Operation: Kidnap Kaitlin is a roaring success… until it isn’t. When Kaitlin escapes into the busy streets of New York City, it’s a race against the clock to find her before Sal and Theo become the hunted.

Zeth Mayfair has traded his life as a hitman for a quieter existence, but it isn’t long before the past catches up with him in the form of Roberto Barbieri. Will he succumb to the lure of power that Roberto is offering? Or will he retaliate by killing every last Barbieri in New York to get them off his back?

Jason Ross is running. Woken in the night by a tip that the Gypsy Brothers are coming for him, he packs a bag and gets his girlfriend the hell out of dodge. Arriving in New York City in the midst of a heatwave is one thing, but being tailed by an entire drug cartel is another.

Worlds collide in Hell’s Kitchen as secrets come to light and sins are punished. Because we might be different in the light of day, but in the darkness, we’re all connected somehow.

Hell’s Kitchen is a serial comprising three volumes: Hell’s Kitchen, Tribeca and Bleecker Street. Volume One releases on March 3rd with a limited-time sale price of 99 cents

Teasers- Meet some of the players…

Excerpt

“What time they due to land?” Sal asks. He loops a tie, pre-knotted and ready to go, over his head.
“Twenty minutes.” With traffic the way it is, we’ll be there in ten.

Sal tightens the tie around his neck, placing the ridiculous fucking chauffeur’s hat on his head. He tucks his hair back behind his ears. He needs to cut it, but will the bastard listen? Hell, no. He never listens to a word I say. “Are you ready?” he asks.

I take my eyes off the road, arching an eyebrow at him. Who the hell does he think he’s talking to? I’ve been doing this job longer than him, after all. I’ve never blinked. Never not been ready. He gets the point pretty damn quickly.

“All right, man, I’m sorry.”

When we arrive at the airfield, we’re directed to hangar twelve, no questions asked. Paddy McLaughlin’s own men would have arrived around now—if we hadn’t already beaten the shit out of them and handcuffed them to a pillar inside an old cardboard factory down on the wharf—so we’re expected. Kaitlin McLaughlin’s plane is delayed. I’m already bored and itching to go by the time the private jet touches down. Sal climbs out of the car and leans against the front passenger door, waiting for the prissy Irish princess and her entourage to exit the plane. When she does, we’re in luck.

Normally, Paddy doesn’t send his little girl anywhere without two personal bodyguards. Today, she’s only accompanied by one. Sal taps the hood of the car as he goes out to take her bags. I have the engine purring in anticipation as he opens the back passenger side door for her and she climbs inside.

Huge sunglasses cover her eyes. That full mouth of hers is perfectly visible in the rearview, though. “Where the fuck is Ray?” she asks. Her father may be first generation Irish, but Kaitlin was born and raised in the States—she sounds like a spoiled little Yank bitch.

“Mr. McLaughlin needed him for something else. He sent us instead.”
She slides the sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, peering at me over the car’s half-raised privacy screen. “And who are you?”
I give her a tight-lipped smile, doing my best to keep my tongue in my head. We need the bodyguard to get in the car, and then we’re golden. Until then, I’m Jerry, the friendly town car driver. “Jerry. My buddy there, that’s Gareth. We’re new.”

“I can see that.” She makes a low, humming sound at the back of her throat. She sounds like she approves. Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t touch crazy pussy. But I will introduce you to my old man, all the same. He just can’t wait to fucking meet you.

The door behind me opens and I feel the car dip as someone gets in—I didn’t notice before, but the lone bodyguard with Kaitlin is a woman. Must be the chick Roberto was talking about. I get a good look at her in the rearview and find myself taking a second one for good measure. She’s blisteringly hot. Maybe in her mid-twenties? Long dark hair, tied back into a braid. High cheekbones. A mouth to rival Kaitlin’s. Her tits strain against her tight black shirt as she twists to put on her seatbelt. You can tell she works out; her clothes fit her far too well for her not to know she looks good in them, too.

Just like Kaitlin, she asks, “Where’s Ray?”

“Busy doing something for Daddy,” Kaitlin informs her, which saves me from spinning the lie again.
“Okay. Straight to the bar, then.” The body guard’s head doesn’t even lift, but she’s a professional. She assesses me in the mirror just as I’ve assessed her. I pretend not to notice as Sal folds himself into the passenger seat.

“Of course.” I press the button for the privacy screen, raising it the rest of the way, blocking out all sound from the back of the car. Sal turns and gives me one of his wicked, crazy-ass grins. He’s enjoying this already. “All right, then, big brother. Let’s do this.” He leans forward and hits a button on the dash—and every single door on the town car automatically locks. “No backing out now.”

I burn out of the hangar to the sounds of muffled thuds from the back of the car. The bodyguard’s not stupid. She’s heard the doors locking and knows something isn’t right. “Motherfucker! Open this up right now!”

Normally there’s an intercom in these cars, but this one’s different. Sal and I smashed the shit out of this car’s intercom with two lump hammers and ripped out the wiring. We also lined the roof with lead. The girls in the back aren’t striking up a conversation with us any time soon. And they aren’t making any phone calls to dear old Papa McLaughlin, either.

As I head back toward the city, the shouting from the back gets louder. It’s accompanied by the dull thudding of feet trying to smash out the privacy screen. Sal raps his knuckles against the glass, grinning again. “Bitch sounds crazy back there. I don’t think she likes the modifications we’ve made.”
I allow myself a small smile as we hit the George Washington Bridge, heading back toward North Manhattan. So far Operation: Kidnap Kaitlin has been a roaring success. Sal pulls out his cell and starts tapping into it with quick fingers. “Telling the old man we’re on our way?”

He nods. “Bastard better give us credit where credit’s due. He’s probably still organising his own fucking birthday party. Meanwhile, we have just successfully taken our mark hostage. We’re on the homeward stretch.”

The fucking homeward stretch.

The thing about saying you’re on the homeward stretch is that often it’s like waving a red flag at a bull. Fate must hear that phrase and decide to fuck over the poor schmuck who was dumb enough to utter it every single fucking time. It’s only seconds after Sal’s parted with those words that the electric window behind me—the bodyguard’s side window—shatters. We knew the bodyguard would be armed, but we didn’t expect anyone to be shooting out the damn side windows. An eruption of fragmented diamonds explodes sideways, spraying a bright yellow smart car with a million shards of glass. The sound of the firing gun is almost deafening.

“What the fuck?”

The smart car veers sideways, smashing into us; I press my foot to the floor, grinding my teeth at the sound of screeching metal and more hammering from the back as I swerve through the traffic. Sal twists in his seat, pulling his gun and pressing it to the glass of the privacy screen. His finger’s on the trigger. “She’s going fucking crazy. I’m gonna shoot the bitch.”

About the Authors

Callie Hart

Callie has experienced many changes throughout her life, and gone through many ups and downs that have all worked towards shaping and molding her into the person she is today: fun loving, active, social, and hard working. The only thing that has remained a constant throughout her life is writing. Creating characters who will tear your conscience in two is a favorite pastime of Callie’s. There are few real saints and sinners in her books; more often, the denizens of her stories are all very human. Broken, flawed, and always with the potential for redemption.

Despite the subject matter being markedly hot and heavy in comparison to the stories she wrote in elementary school, there will always be an element of fairytale to her work.

Stalk Her: Website –Facebook – Twitter – Goodreads –Join Callie’s Newsletter

Lili Saint Germain

Lili writes dark romance, suspense and paranormal stories. Her serial novel, Seven Sons, was released in early 2014, with the following books in the series to be released in quick succession. Lili quit corporate life to focus on writing and so far is loving every minute of it. Her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband and beautiful daughter, good coffee, Tarantino movies and spending hours on Pinterest.

She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.

Website |Facebook |Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest

Leather & Lace – Las Vegas

BUY TICKETS HERE:http://bit.ly/LLLasVegas

Callie Hart & Lili St. Germain are coming back to the US! Just in time for the release of their joint projectHell’s Kitchen. Join Callie and Lili, Saturday March 14th, at the super cool Inspire News Cafe from 5-7 for a special printing and signing of their newest book and a Q& A session.

Then, come upstairs to the Wayfarer Bar, from 7-9 for cocktails (cash bar) and laughs. It’ll be a fun evening with Hell’s Kitchen chatter, some themed cocktails, light bites and a chance to spend some more time talking about all things Hart St Germain.

**Books that are printed will be available for purchase for around $10. Exact price to be confirmed closer to event date. This is pretty awesome! The machine that prints books while you watch is one of only 30 in the world! You’ll be able to take away your unique, limited edition of Hell’s Kitchen, signed by both authors – There will never be others that look like the ones printed in Vegas.

**Snack foods will be provided.
**All drinks are your responsibility

The Venues

Inspire News Cafe (downstairs) and Wayfarer Bar (upstairs) are both gorgeous, hip venues with kick ass atmosphere! The Wayfarer bar is where we’ll finish the night and is a gorgeous, mad-men inspired bar that will be closed just for attendees!

BUY TICKETS HERE:http://bit.ly/LLLasVegas