Friday, June 30, 2017

Holden (Dark Grove Plantation) by Julia Sykes
















































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One look at the gorgeous, curvy brunette standing alone at BDSM club Dark Grove Plantation, and I know she’s mine. She thinks that her desires are twisted and wrong, but I intend to show her how good my harsher methods of seduction can feel. It’s in my nature to dominate, to claim. I have every intention of claiming Holly, body and soul. And if her bastard ex tries to come back for her, he’ll find out just how harsh I can be when someone threatens what’s mine.

Note: An earlier version of this story was released under the title Awakened. It has been extensively re-written as Holden.










“Such a sweet sub,” he said, his voice impossibly deep and heavy with satisfaction. The power exchange passing between us was affecting him as strongly as it had ensnared me. My body and mind were utterly in his thrall, and in that moment, I would have eagerly done anything to please the man who held ultimate control over my being.
He slid two fingers between my legs and traced the seam of my sex through my lacy black panties.
“You’re wet,” he observed with a lustful growl. “I knew you’d be like this.”
“Like what?” I asked, barely able to focus on his words. They seemed to roll off my consciousness like water. Reality was hazy, the world falling away until all I could sense was him: his hard body beneath me, his masculine scent surrounding me, his deep voice rumbling through me. I was captivated by the power that pulsed off him. It caressed my body like a physical touch.
“I knew you’d be naturally submissive,” he replied. “I knew you’d be perfect.”
The praise sank into me to warm my chest.
A different warmth bloomed between my legs when he stroked my clit through my panties. I cried out at the light contact to my sensitive nub. It had grown achy from his ministrations; his gentle fingers contrasted with his stinging discipline. He was harsh and tender by turns, and the dichotomy messed with my thought processes.
“Do you want to come, little sub?” he asked, the question rough with his own desire.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Please, Sir.”
He let out a low groan. “Fuck, you’re sweet when you beg.” He lifted his hips slightly, pressing his cock harder against me. “Do you feel that? Do you feel what you do to me?”
“Please,” I begged again, on the edge of sanity. “Fuck me.” I’d never spoken so crassly, but the deviant words came naturally. I wanted him to claim me, to ravage me.
“You’re going to come first,” he said tightly, restraining himself. “You’re going to come so many times that you’ll be begging me for mercy and sobbing my name by the time I’m finished with you.”







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Julia Sykes is the USA Today bestselling author of the Impossible Series. She has always kept dark stories tucked away in her mind, so she was thrilled when she discovered that other people actually want to read them. Her books blend romance, suspense, and BDSM.
After spending four years living in England, Julia returned to her Southern homeland. She has recently settled down in South Carolina and spends her time petting her cat-children, reading, and binge watching TV with her husband when not writing. You can usually find Julia in Starbucks with a venti iced latte clutched in her hand.
Julia loves connecting with readers! Please feel free to contact her on facebook, through twitter, or email her directly at juliasykes193@gmail.com. You can find out more about Julia's current and future projects at julia-sykes.com.
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SOUL OF A DEMON by Jamie Begley

SOUL OF A DEMON
Dark Souls series, Book 3
by Jamie Begley

The Scene

HTML Editor - Full Version

ANNOUNCING

 

**COVER REVEAL**

The Scene

a Dylan Hart novel

SPECIAL EDITION

is coming July 17th!

The Scene

New Cover! New Interior! New forward! Same killer story!

Havoc ensues when journalist Dylan Hart takes on the story of a lifetime. Exsanguinated hookers? Vampires in real life? What more could the public want? As the death toll rises, Dylan discovers she's put herself on the killer's radar and will have to fight to survive.

★★★★★ "Seriously just read it."

★★★★★ "Wow, I want to be Dylan Hart."

★★★★★ "Sarcastic lead, fast paced fun, witty dialogue, paranormal twists and turns; what's not to love?"
 

 

Pre-order your signed copy today!


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WILLOW WINTERS


Ever wondered about the personalities behind your favorite books? Victoria Danann's new podcast with Riley J. Ford has an incredible lineup of authors booked through the spring. No question is out of bounds. Check it out!

THIS WEEK'S BEST SELLING AUTHOR...
WILLOW WINTERS!

Willow Winters is so happy to be a USA Today, Wall Street Journal and #1 Contemporary Bestselling Romance Author. She likes her action hot and her bad boys hotter. She certainly doesn’t hold back on either one in her writing!

Want a text alert when Willow has a new release? Text "Willow" to 797979!

Or if you prefer by email, Sign up for her Naughty List to get all the newest bad boy releases, sales, great giveaways and a FREE Bad Boy Billionaire Romance → http://eepurl.com/b2izzf

Willow started writing after having her little girl, Evie, December 2015. All during her pregnancy with Evie she continued to read and she only wanted to read romance. She was reading a book a day — sometimes two.

In January 2016 Willow was staying up late with Evie and just thinking of all these stories. They came to her constantly so she finally sat down and just started writing. She always wanted to do it so she figured, why not? Today Willow cannot be happier for making that decision!

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Billionaire's Amnesia by Claire Adams

Being rich opens up the pleasures of the world.

Women. Cars. Businesses. Money.

What more could you want? The world is your oyster and you can act like a jerk all you want. No one’s going to say a thing. Why would they? You’re in control. You’re the rising power.

Until you’re not.

When Elijah loses his memory from a motorcycle accident, he can't remember anything, including his childhood or anything from his past.

Apparently, he was a real pain in the ass before he had his accident.

His older brother and beautiful personal assistant step in to help him form a new life. A better life, but he has so many questions.

Why doesn't his mother speak with him at all anymore? Why is his brother so docile around him? Why are his employees timid and depressed when he walks in the room.

Was he really the monster they’re all making him out to be? And even more… will he wake up from his memory loss and become that guy again?

At the end of the day, what’s important when you've lost everything?

Nothing but the people who love you and support you. For Elijah… that’s no one.

But then he meets Kendall. Will she be able to love this man known for only caring for himself?

Billionaire Amnesia is a 90,000-word, FULL LENGTH, Standalone steamy bad boy alpha billionaire romance. No cliffhanger and has a HEA. Includes 4 free bonus full-length box sets and novels for a limited time.

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Cover Reveal for Nikky Kaye

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Maddie's rules for attending a work retreat:

1    Pack the right clothes. Especially extra underwear.
2    Don’t try to school your insanely hot boss on acceptable trust exercises.
3    Be prepared for the extracurricular ropes course.
4    Make sure there is a safety net when you fall, because you will fall hard

Gage doesn’t appreciate how hard it is to be his right hand woman—especially when I’m spending so much time with my own right hand, fantasizing about him. My demanding, control freak boss is testing all my limits, and I don’t know how long I can stay professional.




No Excuses is a hot, full-length contemporary romance, featuring blindfolds, rope play, food fights, and sexy architectural features like wainscoting. As in all Nikky Kaye books, cheating is not allowed, but some funny stuff and a HEA are non-negotiable.







Coming July 7th



































Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.












STORM WATCH by Carole Ann Moleti

STORM WATCH
Unfinished Business series, book 3
by Carole Ann Moleti

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Release Day Blitz for Jenika Snow
































Layla

For the last two years Lachlan has been my personal bodyguard. Although I don’t feel in danger and don’t need someone constantly watching me, because it’s Lachlan, I can’t help but feel safe.
I love him.
He is big and strong, with training that makes him deadly. Anyone who is stupid enough to cross him learns that swiftly.
But I’m too afraid to tell him how much I want him. I’m too afraid to tell him that I crave him.

Lachlan

I was hired to be her bodyguard, to make sure she was safe because her father is a senator. But even if her father hadn’t hired me, I wouldn’t have been able to leave her alone.
I love her, want her as mine, and I need to show Layla that she was meant for me.
I need to show her that if anyone looks at her, speaks to her, or thinks they have a right to touch her, I’ll lay them out and not think twice.
She is my world, and no one but me will have her.
I’m done waiting. It’s time I make Layla mine.

Warning: Have a neck brace on hand because this story will give you whiplash. It’s short and to the point, but that’s how we like them. It’s not lacking in the heat department, has an over-the-top alpha hero, and a sweet virgin heroine. No worries, though; you get a safe read with a Happily Ever After and some baby making in the process.











Lachlan

I watched Layla. Always. But it wasn't just because that was my job. It was because I wanted her, fucking badly. I wanted her to be mine, to never know the touch of another man, to look into my eyes and know I’d take care of her.
“Lachlan, location check-in.” Rocco’s voice came through in my earpiece.
“South building of Pearson Hall. Layla should be heading back to the estate within the next ten minutes. I’ll check in once en route.”
“Copy that.”
I leaned against a tree and watched as Layla spoke to some little asshole that I knew was in her economics class. The possessive side of me wanted to come out and stake its claim right then and there. Hell, I didn’t want anyone looking at her, let alone speaking with her.
I clenched my jaw as I watched him reach out and brush a strand of her hair from her shoulder. I wanted to go over there and beat the little fucker to the ground, but I had self-control, was trained to only make a move if absolutely necessary.
Me going over there and being a caveman, throwing her over my shoulder and stalking away to make my claim, was a bad fucking idea.
But even that small touch the asshole gives her pissed me the fuck off.
She was my job, or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself to make it easier to be around her. But being her bodyguard for the last two years made that an impossible task.
Her father, Jonathan Lancaster, was a senator. Even before that, his connections and social standings had made the wealthy tycoon take extra precautions to protect his family, which resulted in him hiring bodyguards twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
I’d been Layla Lancaster’s—Jonathan’s daughter—personal bodyguard for the last two years, before her father took office. I’d already deemed her as mine, even if I hadn’t been a man and told her.
She’d been eighteen at the time I was assigned to her, freshly graduated from high school and starting her first year of college. And from the moment I saw her, she was all I wanted.
From the moment I saw her, I knew she would be mine.
And I’d made sure during that whole time that she was always my priority, my permanent station. The very thought of somebody else protecting her, didn't sit well with me. I wanted to be the one that looked after her.
She ended up walking away from the douche and heading to her car. Layla was stubborn, but I fucking loved that about her. She was independent, which drove her father insane. That included her refusing to have a driver, which was what Jonathan Lancaster wanted. Instead she drove herself wherever she felt like going.
She could be a force to be reckoned with, and it made me want her more.
But the one thing her father would not budge on was her having a bodyguard.
And I was always here, because fuck all to hell if anything happened to her on my watch.








Jenika Snow is a USA Today Bestselling Author that lives in the northwest with her husband and their two daughters. Before she started writing full-time she worked as a nurse.



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THE CHAUFFEUR by A.P. Hallmark

THE CHAUFFEUR
by A.P. Hallmark

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

A Soul's Surrender Release Day Blitz with Victoria Flynn

Title: A Soul’s Surrender
Author: Victoria Flynn
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Cover Designer: Airicka’s Mystical Creations
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:With great power, comes great responsibility. That’s something Maya Thibodeau has found out the hard way.
Maya thought she had it all. She had defeated the man that sought to destroy everything she held dear and in the process, found the love of her life and saved her best friend. However, that was before the Loas decided to meddle in her life. If only she hadn’t signed that contract...
Now, she finds herself whisked away to the Land of the Dead and facing her own impending nuptials to the Baron Samedi.
Far from home and anything familiar, she must navigate the muddy waters of royal politics among those who would love nothing more than to see her fail. As if that weren’t hard enough, she must do it all while finding the Baron’s missing wife and battling the growing seed of darkness left by Drake.
The clock is ticking.
Only one thing is certain. War is coming and she will decide who wins and who loses…But, which side will she be on?
Victoria Flynn is a married mother to two daughters and a recent graduate of the University of Michigan. She married her high school sweetheart and together, they travel as often as possible. Mostly, frequenting the wonderful city of New Orleans. When she's not writing or working, she can be found with her nose buried in a good book or outside enjoying the unpredictable Michigan weather and doing mom stuff.
Author Links:
Buy Links:
A Soul’s Sacrifice: http://amzn.to/2sglAG9
A Soul’s Surrender: http://amzn.to/2te3BSg
Years ago, when I was sixteen, my friends thought it would be fun to visit one of those tarot card readers and have our fortunes told. At the time, I didn’t believe in such things, but being at the tender age of sixteen and needing to fit in overrode those thoughts. I went along, thinking maybe at the very least, the fortune teller would be a good laugh and weave some pretty fantasies for me and my friends, very generic ones that could apply to just about everyone.
The fortune teller had a small storefront in the local shopping district in Lafayette. She was gorgeous with her mocha skin and opulent garb covered in sequins and gemstones. Her presence demanded attention and respect when she entered the small room from behind a crushed velvet curtain. The stereotypical costume and her initial predictions didn’t stray from my expectations. My girlfriend’s fortunes held a man in her future, a death in the family for another, some would come into money, and others would be greatly successful.
Things changed though when she came to me. The tarot cards started off fairly run of the mill, but changed as she turned over each of the six cards. The Emperor—I would have success and achievement and an important man would help support me in my endeavors. The Lovers—I would have a great choice ahead of me, one with considerable risks. Death and the Tower—a turbulent or catastrophic change was coming to my life and such changes would conjure a lot of fear within myself. Strength—my negativity could become my downfall. The World card—I would be successful on my journey.
Madam Jeanine had seen great potential in my reading.
“May I read your palm?” she had asked, hand outstretched and concern carving deep lines into her face. Those lines grew deeper as she gazed at my hand while shooing my friends out of the room.
Waiting for her to say something, anything, I had simply looked around the room at all the trinkets she had fastened to the wall. Antique mirrors, tall pillar candles, and patchwork quilts decorated the space. In the corner of the room was a large alter covered in feathers, skulls, and a large brass bowl where incense smoke billowed up.
“Very strange indeed.”
Madam Jeanine, had sprung up from her seat and shuffled over to the small bookcase that sat hidden in the corner by draped tapestries. She had ran her finger over the spines before finding whatever it was she was looking for and plucking it up from its resting pace.
It was a black, leather bound book with no discernable title etched into its cover. Madam Jeanine had turned and looked me straight in the eye.
“I have a theory, but I just want to do one more test to make sure, you know, just to confirm my suspicions.”
I had nodded indifferently, going along for the ride. The fact that I was being held up, irritated me to no end, but I remained courteous as ever and tried not to let my irritation show. Madam Jeanine had walked about the room, blowing out the candles as she came upon them. She had grabbed a large white pillar candle and placed it in the middle of the table before me. She had fished a cloth sack out of the lower half of the altar and returned to the table. She inhaled deeply.
“Ready?” she’d asked.
I shrugged. “I guess so.”
I wasn’t sure where she was going with this or what was waiting in the bag, and I was a tad nervous to find out.
She had pulled a small pile of bones out of the bag and held them between her hands. Madam Jeanine started whispering to them too low for me to make out what she was saying; I knew from growing up in New Orleans that this was voodoo at its finest.
At sixteen, you think you know everything, both about yourself and about the world without ever really experiencing it. This situation was no different. I thought voodoo was superstitious bullshit that was ingrained into the very fabric that Louisiana was cut from. I paid no real attention to what Madam Jeanine told me on that very ordinary day with my friends.
Angie had poked her head into the room. “You going to be much longer?”
I’d waved her back into the other room and returned my attention to Madam Jeanine. The woman hadn’t wavered in her attentions to her tasks at all. My momentary distraction was all it took for Madam Jeanine to swoop in and prick my finger. Blood welled up where she had punctured my fingertip. She brought the bloodied metal into the flame of the candle.
My finger stung and I popped it into my mouth. I tasted the metallic tang of my blood as I attempted to staunch its flow.
Her eyes had popped open and she dumped the contents of her hands onto the table top, scattering the bones in every different direction. I looked down at the bones, not seeing how someone could make sense of those things. My gaze shifted back and forth between Madam Jeanine and scattered bits, waiting.
Madam Jeanine had looked back up at me, the twinkle in her eye shone brightly. “Maya, you have a hell of a road ahead of you.” She patted my hand. “One that will be filled with heartbreak and loss.”
I internally rolled my eyes at the cliché.
“You will find great love, to be sure. The everlasting kind,” she said with a kind smile. “But it will not last. He will be lost to you.”
I asked no questions of the woman, nor did I give much acknowledgment to her prophecy. Despite her ominous statement, she’d looked radiant, like she had just discovered a diamond mine.
I guess in a way, she had.
It’s funny the things you remember years later, when hindsight is twenty/twenty and crystal clear. Madam Jeanine had been right in everything she had said. I had experienced great loss; my parents had died when a megalomaniac murdered them so they wouldn’t be able to interfere with his future plans. My destiny had been written long before I was born, and I would be great. But would I be happy? I doubted it.
What the fortune telling voodoo woman had been the most right about was the very thing that hurt me the most. I had known great loss, but nothing greater than the despair I felt in that moment. Sitting there in my new bed chamber where the Baron Samedi had promptly deposited me upon my arrival to the Land of the Dead, I pondered how my life had come to this.