June 28, 2016

Release Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway: FOREVERMORE (Darkest London, Book 7) by Kristen Callihan

FOREVERMORE (Darkest London, Book 7) by Kristen Callihan

Publication Date: June 28, 2016

Genre: Historical Paranormal Romance

Synopsis

Isolated and alone, Sin Evernight is one of the most powerful supernatural creatures in heaven and on earth. As an angel of vengeance, he hunts down the darkest evil, but when his long-lost friend, Layla Starling, needs him, he vows to become her protector. Even though she will be horrified by the man he has become.

Now a famous singer and the toast of London, Layla believes that Sin is only here to guard her from rabid fans and ardent suitors. However, the truth is far more sinister. Desperate to avoid losing Layla a second time, Sin will face a test of all his powers to defeat an unstoppable foe – and win an eternity with the woman he loves.

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Excerpt

One might think being an immortal was a blessing, never grow old, never grow sick, never die. At one time in St. John Evernight’s life, he considered it a blessing too. He would be around long after the simple humans who surrounded him were nothing but dust. They could stare all they liked at his “strange” hair and frosty green eyes. They could gossip and speculate about him until they lost their voices. It didn’t matter. He was untouchable, and they were but fragile sacks of blood and bone.
How naive he’d been. Because living forever merely meant a lack of escape from the desolation of regret and loneliness. He knew now that he could walk down Jermyn Street endlessly, see the sands of time shift and rearrange before him, and never be a part of life.
“Brooding, Mr. Evernight?”
Sin almost jumped at the sudden sound of Augustus’s voice by his side. Damn, the blasted man loved to startle him. He gave Augustus a passing glance. Dressed in conservative brown tweed and a bowler hat, the angel appeared every inch the English gentlemen, save for his dark coloring that marked him to be from Southern climes.
“It’s really quite the trick, popping up like a soap bubble whenever you choose, Augustus. You must teach me how one day.”
The man’s mouth twitched. “With your luck, you’d pop up in the middle of a parliamentary session.”
Yes, Sin had abominable luck. Or perhaps it was more a matter of making abominable choices.
“You’re brooding again,” Augustus remarked.
“I’m not brooding. This is simply my face.”
Augustus snorted but remained silent as they walked along, past Trafalgar Square and down Whitehall.
“Care to tell me why you called me here?” Sin asked, when they came upon the grounds of Westminster. For the past year, Sin had been in Rome, soaking in the warmer temperatures, drinking espresso in cafes along the Piazza della Rotunda, under the shade of the ancient Pantheon. He’d eaten simple but delicious food, and listened to the rapid fire of Italian, and felt…well, not peace, but a measure of contentment.
Until Augustus had sent for him. Returning to England sat like a stone in his gut. But he would obey. Augustus was his mentor, and the man who’d given him salvation. The price was a lifetime of servitude. To be fair, his role was for justice, not evil, which was a nice change of pace.
A massive dray rattled past, kicking up dust and sending a fug of stale manure into the air. They hurried past the cloud and headed for Westminster Abbey. Sin hadn’t planned on visiting today, but here they were all the same. He wondered if Augustus somehow had led him to their usual meeting place or if Sin had merely headed that way because of the man’s sudden arrival.
He’d like to think the latter. It did not sit well with him having another control his actions. Not since a certain evil fae had kept Sin as a blood slave for years. Even now, the memory made his stomach turn.
Not a soul acknowledged them as they walked through the abbey and into the cloisters. Here, a rare bit of sunlight peeked through the constant cloud cover and cast lacy shadows along the walkway. The sound of their boot heels clacked out a steady rhythm as they strolled along.
“Layla returns to London tonight.”
At the mention of her name, Sin’s heart stilled within his breast. He’d tried his best to ward off all finer feelings, to remain numb, detached from life. And yet he could not, for the life of him, remain immune to Layla Starling. His childhood friend. The one woman who could take his breath, his reason, simply by laying eyes upon her.
Stuffing his shaking hands into his trouser pockets, Sin forced himself to keep an even tone. “So then I am to begin watching over her?”
God, but he did not want to. It would be agony, staying so close to her and never being allowed to show his true feelings. And yet a thrum of anticipation went through him at the mere prospect of seeing Layla once more.
“Are you ready?” Augustus asked, though his expression told Sin he fully expected an affirmative answer.
So Sin told him the only truth left to him. “I will not fail her.”

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Buy Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/28XG7bi
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Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/28XZNKp
Series Page on Goodreads: http://bit.ly/294zjnX

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THE FULL DARKEST LONDON SERIES

Amazon Series Link: http://amzn.to/28YjePG

Firelight, #1
Moonglow, #2
Winterblaze, #3
Shadowdance, #4
Evernight, #5
Soulbound, #6
Forevermore, #7

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Giveaway

Ten (10) Mass Market Copies of FOREVERMORE by Kristen Callihan

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Kristen Callihan is a writer because there is nothing else she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewers’ Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book, Firelight, received RT Book Reviews’ Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal, best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.

Author Website: http://bit.ly/28RFCts
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June 27, 2016

Spotlight, Review & Giveaway: SHADOW RIDER by Christine Feehan

SHADOW RIDER (Shadow Series) by Christine Feehan

Publication Date: June 28, 2016

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

The #1 New York Times bestselling “queen of paranormal romance”* is back with a sexy new series starring a Chicago crime family that hides a dark, mystical secret. . .

Whether it’s fast cars or fast women, Stefano Ferraro gets what he wants. When he’s not fodder for the paparazzi, he commands Ferraro family businesses — both legitimate and illegitimate.

While their criminal activity is simply a rumor yet to be proven, no one knows the real truth. The Ferraros are a family of shadow riders capable of manipulating light and dark, an ability Stefano thought ran in his family alone — until now. . .

With little left to her name, Francesca Cappello has come to Chicago in hopes of a new life. She wasn’t expecting to attract the attention of a man with primal hunger in his eyes, driven to claim her as his to protect and to please. And if he discovers her secret, it could ruin her…

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Donna 5 Stars

I normally get cautious about a new series but this one grabbed me in the first 10 pages. Granted I had a hard time liking Stefano in the first 80% of the story. Lust after him? Oh yes, he was hawt! Then Francesca just about reached my limit on the “reluctant to commit” meter. Luckily she redeemed herself. I really liked her and her ‘self-aware but willing to submit’ personality. Normally I would have knocked down the review rating because of those issues, but…I could not put this book down! My eyes were tired after working a full day, but I still sat for eight hours and read it to the end. I found the antagonist and threats were just as pulse pumping as the hot and inspired sex. This looks to be a fun, action packed series that I can’t wait to read. My only question is: which brother or family member is next. Wowza.

*Review copy provided by Penguin in exchange for an honest review.

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Trailer

https://youtu.be/5BFdEpB-YV4 via @YouTube

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Excerpt

Read Chapter 1: http://www.christinefeehan.com/shadow_rider/chapter1.php

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Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback

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Giveaway

PAPERBACK COPY of SHADOW RIDER by Christine Feehan

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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#1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan has over 40 novels published, including four series. Each of her four series has hit #1 on the NY Times. Her debut novel Dark Prince received 3 of the 9 Paranormal Excellence Awards in Romantic Literature for 1999. Since then she has been published by Leisure Books, Pocket Books, and currently is writing for Berkley/Jove. She also has earned 7 more PEARL awards.

She is pleased to have made numerous bestseller lists including the New York Times, Publishers Weekly, USA Today, Bookscan, B. Daltons, Amazon, Barnes and Nobles, Waldenbooks, Ingrams, Borders, Rhapsody Book Club, Washington Post, and Walmart. She has received numerous honors throughout her career including being a nominee for the RWA’s RITA. She has received a Career Achievement Award from Romantic Times and the Borders 2008 Lifetime Achievement Award.

She has been published in multiple languages and in many formats, including large print, palm pilot, e-book, and hardcover. In October of 2007 her first manga comic, Dark Hunger was released in stores. This was the first ever manga comic released by Berkley Publishing and it made #11 on Publisher’s Weekly Bestseller’s List. Her ground-breaking book trailer commercials have been shown on TV and in the movie theaters. She has been featured on local TV, appeared on the The Montel Williams Show, and her book Dark Legend was featured on the cover of Romantic Times Magazine.

Christine Feehan has also appeared at numerous writers’ conventions and book signings including: Romantic Times Convention, Get Caught Reading at Sea Cruise, Celebrate Romance Conference, Emerald City Conference, and numerous Romance Writers of America Conferences.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest

June 23, 2016

Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: INSEVERABLE (Carolina Beach #1) by Cecy Robson

INSEVERABLE (Carolina Beach #1) by Cecy Robson

Publication Date: June 21, 2016

Synopsis

How can you imagine forever with someone who’s leaving everything behind?

Callahan, a former army sniper, wants to make an escape from his past and everything he experienced at war, but most of all, just not feel. Feeling leads to pain and he’s suffered enough. When he inherits a house on South Carolina’s Kiawah Island, he packs his bags, lured by the peace and seclusion he thinks it will bring. But, Callahan never counted on meeting anyone like Trinity . . .

Trinity has always been the cute, and funny one, who most guys overlook inpursuit of her “hot” friends. She became used to being everyone’s pal, until the day the young man she was attracted to, was drawn to her in return. He became her first great love, and first crushing heartbreak when she found him in bed with one of her closest friends.

To move forward, and to carry out her commitment to helping those in need, Trinity enlists in the Peace Corps, but not before returning to Kiawah for one last memorable summer. She just never imagined it would be so unforgettable.

Callahan doesn’t want to get close to anyone-let alone Trinity. He finds her perkiness insufferable and her attempts to entice a smile distracting. After all, he’s in Kiawah to leave all feelings behind. But when it comes to Trinity, who feels everything, it’s hard not to feel something.

Neither expected to fall in love. And no one could have predicted how inseverable they’d become.

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Excerpt

Prologue

Callahan

Three days.

That’s all I have left until this shit ends.

Three days shouldn’t feel like forever, not compared to the eight years I’ve bled to the Army. Thing is, good men have been killed in less time. In as quick as a blink, a squeeze of a trigger, or a small breath right before a grenade blows is all the time it takes to shove someone right out of life and well into death.

That’s what makes three days as long as it is. Three days is plenty of time to die.

My eyes tear when the wind picks up and shoots grime through the small hole of my lookout point. This blown out piece of cinderblock is only big enough to allow me a view of the street below, but not so small I don’t get smacked in the face with more filth. The tarp flaps above me as I spit out another layer of the dirt-sand mix spackling my teeth. Christ Almighty, I need a swig of the water resting near my elbow. But my thirst, like everything else has to wait.

I have a job to do.

I adjust my hips against the cracked cement of my bed, bathroom, and home all rolled into one, thankful that the agonizing ache stretching over the lower half of my body has settled into a now familiar numbness.

Out of all the points I’d scouted, and all the accumulated years spent in this position, I should be used to it. And in a strange way, it should almost be home. Yet nothing ever has been home.

But in three days, maybe something finally will be . . .

I shove my thoughts away and breathe as my fellow Rangers stalk along the street. It’s then I see them, a mother and daughter walking straight toward my team. Less than one city block separates them from the men counting on me to keep them alive.

The hell? How did they get past the other sniper unreported? Rogers is new on watch. But the quick paces these two are taking should have clued him in that something’s up. I train my scope on their faces; their expressions are blank, unreadable. ‘Cept that’s not what keeps my attention.

The little girl can’t be more than five. So why the fuck isn’t her mother holding her hand? I lift my radio and bark a warning, dropping it beside me as I lock my scope dead center on the woman’s head.

The radio crackles and Modreski chimes in, yelling at his team to hold their positions. He asks me what my plan is, knowing if something’s caused the short-hairs on my neck to rise, he and the boys damn well need to listen. But I don’t hear him, with a breath and a squeeze of the trigger, I leave a kid without a mother.

Just beneath the sleeve of her abayah―the dress completely covering her body―I see it, a detonator that would trigger the explosives likely strapped to her chest. A few Rangers I know―Simons and Boreman, rush forward. I start to mutter a curse, pissed at her for making me shoot her in front of her kid. But the curse lodges in my throat when I see the kid isn’t looking at her mother lying next to her dead.

She’s watching my advancing team as she lifts the detonator clasped tight in her hand.

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Buy Links

Amazon | B & N | iTunes | Kobo

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Giveaway

(Cecy Robson Prize Pack)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

Cecy Robson is a new adult and contemporary author of the Shattered Past series, the O’Brien Family novels and upcoming Carolina Beach novels, as well as the award-winning author of the Weird Girls urban fantasy romance series. A 2016 double nominated RITA®finalist for Once Pure and Once Kissed, Cecy is a recovering Jersey girl living in the South who enjoys carbs way too much, and exercise way too little. Gifted and cursed with an overactive imagination, you can typically find her on her laptop silencing the yappy characters in her head by telling their stories.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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June 23, 2016

Excerpt Reveal: Filthy English by Ilsa Madden-Mills

Filthy English by Ilsa Madden-Mills

Publication Date: July 11, 2016

KINDLE $0.99 (LIMITED TIME) http://amzn.to/29xpLUk

Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/1t7pvC5

A smokin’ hot British player…

A jilted girl…

One night of mistaken identity…

Two weeks before her wedding, Remi Montague’s fiancé drops her faster than a drunken sorority girl in stilettos. Armed with her best friend and a bottle of tequila, she hops a plane to London to drown her sorrows before fall semester begins at Whitman University.

She didn’t plan on attending a masquerade party.

She sure didn’t plan on waking up next to the British bad boy who broke her heart three years ago—the devastatingly handsome and naked Dax Blay. Furthermore, she has no clue how they acquired matching tattoos.

Once back at Whitman together, they endeavor to pretend they never had their night of unbridled passion in London.

But that’s damn hard to do when you live in the same house…

One night. Two damaged hearts. The passion of a lifetime.

*A modern love story inspired by Romeo and Juliet*

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pretty girl with hairs

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Remi

Plain and simple, this night sucked.
Sadly, it was my honeymoon.
I sighed heavily and gazed around Masquerade, an intimately lit London nightclub where everyone wore black domino masks, some elaborate and some plain, to hide their identity. A few die-hards even sported dark clothing with long, loose cloaks. Not me though. I’d gone modern with a slinky little number and three-inch heels, putting my height at nearly six feet. Yep, I’m the giant in the blue dress, towering over every girl and some guys at the bar.
My top teeth dug into my bottom lip as I gazed around the smoky club, my eyes bouncing off random faces. Even in a room full of party people, music, and strobe lights, I was lonely.
My groom was missing.
That’s right. Hartford Wilcox, Jr., aka Mr. Nice Guy at Whitman University in North Carolina, had jilted me two weeks before the big wedding day as we had dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, Mario’s.
And now here I was—on my honeymoon and getting trashed with my best friend Lulu who’d decided to skip her beach vacation and come with me at the last minute.
She poked me with her finger as we sat in front of the heavy wooden bar of the club. “Hey, Earth to Remi, get that glazed look out of your eyes and order a drink already. I’m thirsty.” She fluffed her pixie-cut pink hair and straightened her black tutu, eyes scoping out the club. “Dang, the men in here are hotter than a billy goat with a blow torch,” she said in her honeyed southern drawl.
I half-heartedly agreed, not really caring, more intent on scanning the bottles behind the bar. “I want tequila,” I murmured. “A whole bottle.”
Her face snapped back to me and her green eyes widened. “Uh-uh. No way. I know what happens when you drink that crap. You either eat a ton of tacos and puke, or you wrap yourself around some cocky bastard with a well-developed tush.”
True. I did love a tight muscular ass.
But I wouldn’t get one tonight.
A short laugh burst out of me, one of those I’m-miserable-but-pretending-to- be-okay-laughs that I’d been doing a lot of lately. For the past two weeks, I’d vacillated between a sobbing mess and an angry woman who became so incensed that “fuck” was the only word that seemed appropriate in any given situation. Going to the post office to mail he dumped me, but thank you anyway cards. Fuck. Going to the wedding venue and not getting the ten thousand dollar deposit back. Fuck. Realizing I was homeless fall semester—which was in two weeks—fuck. Listening to my mother tell me it was my fault. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The bartender delivered my bottle and poured me a shot. I sucked the tequila down while Lulu watched me warily. It tasted like bad decisions and gasoline, but tonight was about forgetting. The sooner the better.
A few minutes later, Lulu went out to dance with a British guy she’d been making eyes at. I sat glumly at the bar, fiddling with my diamond tennis bracelet, rubbing it like rosary beads. I needed to forget Hartford, and according to Lulu, that meant hooking up with someone.
Was she right?
Fate answered in the form of a beautiful man—and by beautiful I mean drop-dead sexy with a backside so delectable and muscular my mouth plopped open.
I snapped my lips shut and adjusted my velvet half-mask—the annoying feathery plumes on the sides kept sticking to my red lipstick—and turned ever so slightly to check him out, not wanting to appear obvious. He slid into the seat next to me, tall and broad with rippling shoulders and a massive frame.
I checked my appearance in a mirror behind the bar, mentally analyzing the odds of a girl like me snagging a hottie like him.
Although no one had ever called me beautiful, I did have two—okay, maybe three—things going for me in the looks department. My shiny, golden-brown hair that hung down in waves to my shoulders, my fluffy “pillow lips” as Lulu described them, and lastly, I had an itsy bitsy space between my two front teeth which were otherwise white and perfect. Lulu claimed the gap lent me an exotic look, like Madonna or Sookie Stackhouse. Whatever. I was a True Blood fan. I went with it.
He shifted on the stool, leaning closer to me. His cologne swirled in the air, the smell of expensive Scotch and musk mingling together to create a heady, slightly dangerous scent. I paused, goosebumps rising on my bare arms. The spicy whiff triggered a distant memory just out of reach.
As slyly as I could, I studied his profile from top to bottom. Like me he wore a black mask, although his was more masculine, not hiding his chiseled, movie star jawline. His lips were carnal and luscious, the bottom more plump than the top with a slight indentation in the middle. As I watched, his tongue swept out and caressed it, his top teeth biting it as if he were deep in thought. He raked a hand through his dark, longish messy hair, held it suspended above his head for a few seconds and then released it, letting it swish back into its tousled yet perfect place.
I tore my eyes away.
Something about him sent loud warning bells ringing in every atom of my body.
Danger, danger. Don’t touch that.
But my gaze would not be denied as I took in the tight black shirt and sculpted chest that was obviously used to the inside of a gym, right down to an arm that looked like it could snap a board in half—or me.
Nice biceps, Mr. Beautiful.
The pièce de résistance was the vivid blue and orange dragonfly tattoo displayed on his left arm. It was larger than my hand and took up most of his bicep. My eyes traced the contours of the design from the papery wings to the multi-faceted eyes. A bold black color outlined the insect, giving it a masculine feel.
Gorgeous.
True Religion jeans stretched down long legs and ended in a pair of black Converse without socks, giving him a boyish quality that was in direct contrast to the crazy-sexy-bad-boy vibe he had going on.
Him tonight?
Maybe. He was the polar opposite of Hartford who was blond, lean, and tattoo-free.
I nibbled on my fingernail. How do I get him to notice little ol’ me?
Just then a redhead with fluffy Farrah Fawcett hair strode up to his stool, bold as brass, wearing a tight, white mini-skirt that barely covered her booty. She brought with her the smell of sweet, cloying perfume, the kind I always got spritzed with at the mall.
She flicked her hair over her shoulder, casually rubbed her finger down his arm and struck up a conversation. Her fake, black lashes—which she’d somehow managed to get outside the eyeholes of her mask—batted. She puffed out her well-developed chest.
He smiled back at her with a wicked grin, his relaxed body language telling me he was confident when it came to women. She whispered in his ear, boobs right in his face, but whatever he said back wasn’t what she wanted to hear because a few ticks later, she crossed her arms, glared at me, and stalked away.
I blinked. What had I done?
Then he turned and pointed his devastating smile at me.
Shit, he’d made eye contact—as much as you could with a claustrophobic mask on.
But wait…
Was he crazy?
Because if he’d turned down her flirtation, I didn’t have a shot.
I didn’t know how to do the fingers-tip-toeing-up-his-arm-thing and sexy hair flicking. I didn’t know a thing about applying fake eyelashes. I didn’t know how to make my breasts sit up that high. I looked away from him and took another shot, feeling anxious and strangely off-kilter.
Mr. Beautiful ordered a drink from the bartender, his British accent smooth as silk as it washed over me. I froze. I almost knew that voice—deep with soft rounded vowels that made you tingle in your lady parts.
What was it about this guy that had me all jacked up and hot for him?
Hello, tequila, my inner voice said. But it was more than that.
Getting brave, I pivoted on my barstool, and found Mr. Beautiful’s eyes on me once more, searching my face. As if he too recognized the pull between us.
My heart played hopscotch, jumping against my chest. My skin prickled. I shivered.
Did I know him?
It clicked.
Dax Blay?
It was his voice, the same deep quality, the kind of voice that made you want to hop into his bed and ride him like a cowgirl.
My breath hitched, and I swallowed down the emotion that zipped up my spine whenever I thought of him. He was my one mistake, the time I’d tossed inhibitions and carefully laid plans aside and went with my instincts, only to have them tossed back in my face.
But the man next to me wasn’t Dax. Thank God.
Last spring at the campus-wide end of the year fraternity party with Hartford, I’d seen Dax, and he’d had shorter hair, like always, and zero tattoos. Yeah. No way.
Plus, last I heard, he was in Raleigh where his father lived.
Yet…
Dax was British. He could have family here. Maybe he got a tattoo?
Nah. I mean, what were the odds of us both being at the same club on the same night in a country where neither of us lived?
I tore my eyes off Mr. Beautiful and waved at a bartender for more limes, but somehow my tennis bracelet snagged on the bodice of my dress, leaving my wrist dangling like a wet dishrag in a most inappropriate place.
I wiggled my arm.
Jiggled it.
Even went so far as to jerk, but it wouldn’t separate.
Sweat popped out on my forehead. Holding my breath, I twisted and tugged the bracelet, forcing the delicate material in my bodice to stretch beyond normal limits.
“Well, hell,” I breathed, pausing to assess.
Skin-tight with a plunging neckline, the dress was mostly a stretchy fabric held together by sequined straps and a zipper on the side. Slated as part of my honeymoon wardrobe, it was a Tory Burch and had cost four hundred dollars, the most I’d ever paid for a fun outfit, and no way did I want to damage it. I might have to return it to rent an apartment at Whitman.
Lulu. I needed Lulu. She was a whiz with wardrobe malfunctions.
I spun around on the barstool and used my free hand to wave at her, but she was slinging herself around dancing, having a great time and completely oblivious. I resorted to flapping both hands at her, one high and one low. Several people waved back with baffled expressions, but Lulu didn’t notice. Dammit.
I groaned and slumped down in my seat, ready to scream. Now what? Go to the bathroom and repair it there? Good plan.
But the club tilted when I stood, the strobe lights making me squint as they flashed in my face. I wobbled in my leopard print heels—that Lulu had insisted I wear—and grabbed the stool to keep my balance. `
I sucked in a breath to gather myself, but I couldn’t think straight. The room spun, and I was suddenly queasy, and why did I slam all that tequila, and oh my god, my wrist is currently attached to my tit like a T. rex arm.
I had to get out of here before someone noticed what an idiot I was.
Trying to be stealth like, I reached across the bar to get my beaded clutch, but because it was my left hand and not my right that I used most of the time, I got off balance and stumbled—and my ankle folded in on itself. I yelped as my shoe catapulted off my foot and vaulted off toward the dance floor, while I fell forward, straight into Mr. Beautiful’s lap.

Filthy English (unedited excerpt)
Copyright Ilsa Madden-Mills

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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 all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, 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.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter

Dirty English by Ilsa Madden-Mills
Release Date: October 12, 2015
Genre: New Adult Romance
REVIEW: http://wp.me/p3d0RZ-3dw
Buy Links $2.99 or via Kindle Unlimited:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1jjy5JB
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1FZJRTH
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1LIPB6n

VERY BAD THINGS – Review 5 Stars
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Fzllmk
iBooks: http://apple.co/1gl5Yaj
BN: http://bit.ly/1bOyH2g
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1D0BVw5

VERY WICKED BEGINNINGS
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1FzlnL4

VERY WICKED THINGS – Review 5 Stars
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1FzlmXD
iBooks: http://apple.co/1mVS3Wo
BN: http://bit.ly/1mT1cDB
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1C9EZt3

VERY TWISTED THINGS – Review 5 Stars
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1LZ6SFc
iBooks: http://apple.co/1eN7Clh
BN: http://bit.ly/1KK0ljh
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1BHcK4R

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Posted in Features, Features, Blitz, Blasts, Teasers
Tagged Excerpt Reveal: Filthy English by Ilsa Madden-Mills, Filthy English By Ilsa Madden-Mills, Ilsa Madden-Mills
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June 22, 2016

Blog Tour: The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake by Jessica Clare

The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake by Jessica Clare

Publication Date: June 21, 2016

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A hot one night stand between friends might spark true love in The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake by Jessica Clare!

Buy Links

Kindle: http://amzn.to/1SH2BMG
iBooks: http://apple.co/1UOkyr6
Nook: http://bit.ly/1S4rPyp
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1UirAnR

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Synopsis

A hot one night stand between friends might spark true love in the latest Billionaires and Bridesmaids novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Billionaire Takes a Bride.

Greer has always been there for Asher, but she wishes she could break through her shyness and show how much she truly loves him. But after a steamy, mindless fling at Hunter and Gretchen’s engagement party, Greer finds herself tossed aside and forced to admit that you can’t love someone who doesn’t acknowledge you exist.

It’s a shame he got her pregnant.

After his fiancée betrayed him and tanked his business in one fell swoop, Asher has spent his time trying to rebuild his wealth and forget the past. But he doesn’t understand why Greer blew him off after their night together—until he catches a glimpse of her belly.

Now Asher is willing to do whatever it takes to convince Greer she belongs with him. And he’s very skilled at the art of persuasion.

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Excerpt

When the group started to disperse into partying again, he got out of his chair and moved toward Greer’s table, stalking her. He saw her heading off with one of the waitstaff and jogged to catch up. “Greer!”
She turned and her face paled at the sight of him. Her mouth firmed into an angry line of distaste, and then she picked up her skirts and continued to walk away.
Yeah, he was definitely on the shit list.
That didn’t deter him, though. Asher headed after her, following her into the house and catching up despite her efforts to hurry. “Hey, wait up. I think we need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you, Asher.” She didn’t turn to look at him.
He reached out and clasped her arm, noting how warm her skin was, and how soft. And damn it all if he didn’t start to get another inappropriate boner. His body really needed to learn to calm the fuck down. “Just give me five minutes of your time, all right? Then I’ll leave you alone.”
She exchanged a look with the waitress, and then nodded at her. “I’ll be inside in a minute. Go ahead.” When the woman left, Greer sighed and turned back to him, smoothing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. “What is it, Asher? I’m very busy tonight with the party.”
“I can imagine. This is a terrific party. I should have known you were behind it.” He knew she’d done weddings for some top-notch clients in New York and always took her job extremely seriously. Of course she’d put on a spectacular party for her father. “Listen. I feel like the last time we saw each other, we . . . well, we fucked up.”
Her eyebrows went up.
Shit. That was apparently the wrong thing to say. “I mean, it was a fuckup, but not that fucking you was a mistake.” God, where was his suaveness when he needed it? Why was he all diarrhea of the mouth when it came to Greer? He could sweet talk anyone, but the moment he came close to her, he babbled like a schoolboy. “Not that I think we should have fucked, of course. We’re friends, and friends don’t sleep with each other. Not if they want to stay friends. And you’ve been avoiding me. We haven’t had our Mondays in the last few months.”
“No, we haven’t.”
“It doesn’t have to be Mondays, you know. It can be any other day. Or it doesn’t have to be lunch. It can be anytime you need it to be if your schedule is all screwed.” He frowned to himself. “I should probably stop saying the word screwed, shouldn’t I?”
Her arms crossed over her chest, pressing her dress tighter against her body. “Is this conversation going somewhere, Asher? Like I said, I’m very busy tonight.”
Greer’s tits looked magnificent in that dress, he realized. They’d been small, perfect handfuls the night they’d slept together and now they seemed . . . doubly abundant. “Did you get a boob job?”
Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “I need to go.”
Fuck, why did he say that? “Sorry. It’s none of my business. Listen.” He reached out and grabbed her elbow when she turned to leave, stopping her. “The reason why I wanted to talk to you tonight is because I was behaving like an ass that night. I was drunk and I wasn’t myself. I was just lost in misery and in booze, and if I’d been thinking straight, I would have never dragged you off to the gardens and slept with you.” And damn if that didn’t sound all wrong, too. “Not because you’re not attractive, Greer. You are.”
“You’re not winning me over, Asher.” Her voice sounded hard. “Did you truly come to this party just to tell me that you find me repulsive and you wouldn’t have slept with me if you were sober?”
“What? No, that’s not what I meant at all. You’re hot. I mean, hell, you look smoking hot in that dress tonight.” She was all lush curves, which was surprising given that his memories of her were of her daintiness. But her body had changed in the last couple of months. And something about that was bothering him. “I just . . . don’t think we should have done that. As friends.”
“On that, I agree completely. May I go now?”
Why wasn’t she thawing toward him? He remembered Greer as all soft, shy smiles for him. They’d been friends, good friends. The cool, remote stranger in front of him . . . well, it reminded him of Stijn and the politely disinterested-because-you-are-dirt-to-me expression he wore at all times. “I just . . . you’re a good friend and I don’t want to lose you.”
“We can’t change what happened, Asher.” She hadn’t thawed an inch. One of the waitstaff moved nearby with an enormous cake, and she delicately sidestepped on the path to allow them more room. As she did, the long hem of her skirt got caught in a nearby bush and pulled taut against her body, outlining a slightly rounded stomach.
Asher’s eyes widened as realization struck him. “Greer . . . are you pregnant?”
She bit her lip and averted her gaze.
Oh fuck. She was pregnant. “Is it . . . Is it mine?”
She looked back up again. Her eyes narrowed. She crooked her finger at him, indicating he should lean down. He did—
—And she delivered a ringing slap to his face.

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About the Author
Jessica Clare
This is a pen name for Jill Myles.

Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood. She reads all the ‘naughty parts’ of books first, looks for a dirty joke in just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the Prairie books should have been steamier.

After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own – stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations. She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed together.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

June 16, 2016

Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: HANGING BY A THREAD (Riley O’Brien & Co. #3) by Jenna Sutton

HANGING BY A THREAD (Riley O’Brien & Co. #3) by Jenna Sutton

Publication Date: June 7, 2016

Synopsis

Thirty-year-old Bebe Banerjee is desperate to get rid of two things: her fiancé and her virginity. Escaping her arranged marriage might be impossible, but she refuses to give her firsts to an entitled jerk who lives on another continent. Instead, she devises a plan that guarantees another man will get her momentous firsts. But she never imagined that man would be Cal O’Brien, the gorgeous heir to the Riley O’Brien & Co. denim empire…

Although Cal has always been fascinated by Bebe’s brilliant mind and beautiful eyes, he’s never pursued her. She can’t stand the sight of him, and every time they’re in the same room, they end up trading insults. Yet when he finds out about Bebe’s bold plan, he makes his move, unaware of her upcoming nuptials. He promises to make her firsts unforgettable, but he doesn’t know how hard it will be to forget her when their arrangement ends.

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Excerpt

Chaste. Untouched. Maiden. Pure. Innocent. The words that described a virgin might sound pretty, but the truth was downright ugly, at least in Bebe Banerjee’s opinion. She was convinced her virginity was the reason her heart raced, her breath seized, and her palms sweated whenever she was near Cal O’Brien.
Bebe surreptitiously studied Cal, trying to ignore the wave of lust that surged over her. If she’d had some experience between the sheets, she was sure she’d be able to handle the way he made her feel.
If she had gotten naked with a few guys, maybe she wouldn’t obsess about his glacier-blue eyes and his thick, dark hair. Maybe she wouldn’t notice the way his jeans clung to his tight behind and long legs. Maybe she wouldn’t fantasize about his lips, his smile, his big hands . . .
Bebe desperately wished she could just avoid him, but his little sister, Teagan, was her best friend. If she wanted to spend time with Teagan, she had to put up with Cal. She said no to a lot of Teagan’s invitations to hang out because of him, and she had to be very careful not to offend her best friend.
That was why the object of her X-rated fantasies stood next to her in a club-level suite at PacBell Park. The San Francisco Giants were in the playoffs, battling against the Atlanta Braves to win the National League pennant, and Teagan had invited her to attend the game in the Riley O’Brien & Co. suite.
Founded by Teagan’s great-great-grandfather, Riley O’Brien & Co. was the nation’s oldest designer and manufacturer of blue jeans. Americans had worn Rileys for nearly two centuries. In fact, Bebe was wearing a pair right now.
Teagan and her brothers were involved in the day-to-day operations of Riley O’Brien & Co. She managed the company’s law department, while her oldest brother, Quinn, served as president and CEO, and Cal handled global marketing and communications. Even Quinn’s wife, Amelia, was involved in the company, heading up the women’s division.
Beside her, Cal shifted slightly and took a pull on his Shiner Bock. He was close enough to touch, and she clenched her hands into fists just in case her fingers suddenly decided to act out her secret fantasies. He didn’t even look her way, and he probably wouldn’t unless he felt the need to toss an insult at her.
“How was Antigua?” Cal asked, directing the question to his sister and her new husband, Nick Priest.
“It was the most amazing place I’ve ever been,” Teagan said, her blue eyes shining and her glossy lips turned up in a smile.
Teagan and Nick had just returned from their three-week honeymoon to the Caribbean island. Both of them were glowing from their tans and their newlywed status.
“We were lucky we had our own private beach because Nick is apparently an exhibitionist,” Teagan added with a lustful gleam in her eyes.
Nick was a former professional football player, and he had been voted as one of the “Sexiest Men Alive” by People magazine. With his blond hair and bright green eyes, he was gorgeous, no doubt about it. But in Bebe’s opinion, he wasn’t nearly as gorgeous as Cal.
No one is as gorgeous as Cal.
Nick leaned down and whispered something into Teagan’s ear, something that was obviously naughty because her face turned the color of cherries. When he straightened to his full six-five and saw her red cheeks, he chuckled.
“You’re so bad,” Teagan muttered, lightly slapping Nick’s chest. In response, he grabbed her hand, hauled her up against him, and kissed her . . . with tongue.
Cal made a gagging noise. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, “do you have to do that in front of me?”
Teagan pulled away from Nick. “Please,” she shot back, her voice full of disgust. “Do know how many times I had to listen to my high school friends talk about you and your big—”
Much to Bebe’s disappointment, Cal covered his sister’s mouth with his hand and cut off the rest of Teagan’s sentence. She tried to pull his fingers away, and finally she got free by elbowing him in the stomach.
Laughing, Cal stumbled sideways into Bebe, almost knocking her over. He grabbed her forearm to steady her, his hand hot against her skin, and she gasped. Even the slightest touch from him made her pulse pound, and she tugged her arm to get away from him.
Instead of releasing her, his fingers tightened. She looked up . . . way up. He was almost as tall as Nick, and he loomed over her by more than a foot. He was a little leaner than Teagan’s husband but still solid muscle. His faded Giants T-shirt showed off his broad shoulders, impressive biceps, and ropy forearms. He’d paired the shirt with ancient Rileys that fit him like a glove and well-worn boots.
“Sorry about that, Cookie,” Cal apologized offhandedly.
“I told you not to call me that,” she snapped, trying to jerk her arm free.
She hated it when he called her Cookie, and he knew it. Of course, that was why he did it.
He had come up with the nickname right after he’d found out she had a medical degree in addition to her MBA and law degree. He’d claimed it was a better moniker than Bebe since she was such a smart cookie, but she knew it wasn’t a compliment.
“I thought you liked nicknames.” He smiled angelically and widened his eyes to look innocent. “You call Teagan kanya all the time.”
Kanya was Bebe’s nickname for her best friend. It meant “girl” in Hindi, the native language of her Indian ancestors. She had been born and raised in the United States, but using Hindi words was one way she stayed connected to her heritage.
“Teagan and I are friends,” she pointed out.
He got her message loud and clear because his eyes got all squinty. “I can be friendly.”
Yes, he could be friendly. In fact, he was friendly to everyone but her. He never had anything nice to say to her, and she returned the sentiment.
She wasn’t sure who had struck first, probably her, but now they launched verbal missiles at each other with frequency and precision. He went out of his way to be rude and antagonistic, and she did the same.
Bebe knew the real reason she acted like such a bitch around Cal. She liked him, and she didn’t want him to suspect how she really felt. She didn’t want to be the pathetic geeky girl with a crush on the hot guy.
Before Cal, she had never been attracted to any man. She’d never even experienced a high school crush because she had entered the ninth grade when she was twelve and had graduated when she was fifteen. She had immediately headed off to college, and she’d obtained two bachelor’s degrees in three years.
By the time she had been able to vote, she had been in her first year of medical school. She’d become accustomed to being viewed as a study partner rather than a sex partner.
She wasn’t oblivious, though, and over the years, she had noticed good-looking men. But she had never felt that zing of sexual attraction until she had met Cal four years ago. She hated the way he made her feel: gauche, nervous, and overstimulated. When he was near, sounds were louder, colors were brighter, and smells were stronger.
Right now, she could smell him, a panty-soaking aroma of warm male and expensive cologne. It was so delicious, she could barely concentrate on the conversation swirling around her.
“Even though Antigua was amazing, I’m glad to be home,” Teagan said, ignoring Cal and Bebe’s sniping. “I missed everyone. Mom and Dad. Quinn and Amelia. Bebe. Letty.”
“You didn’t miss me?” Cal asked, feigning hurt feelings.
Bebe knew Teagan had intentionally excluded Cal, trying to annoy him. The O’Brien siblings teased one another mercilessly. Their relationship was so different from the one Bebe had with her older brothers.
She rarely talked with Pritam and Ranjit, and when she did, they definitely didn’t tease her. They didn’t even call her Bebe. They insisted on referring to her by her full name, Bindu, which she hated.
“No. I missed Kim more than I missed you,” Teagan replied, referring to the woman who did her nails at the swanky spa she frequented.
Teagan’s snarky response made laughter well in Bebe’s throat. Before she could choke them back, giggles escaped her. Cal stiffened next to her, and she mentally prepared for their next verbal battle.
Ready. Aim. Fire.

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Buy Links

Amazon | B& N |Google | iTunes | Kobo

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Giveaway

Enter to Win a $50.00 Amazon eGift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the author

Jenna Sutton is a former award-winning journalist who traded fact for fiction when she began writing novels. Surprisingly, the research she conducted for her articles provided a lot of inspiration for her books.

Jenna is the author of the Riley O’Brien & Co. romances including All the Right Places and Coming Apart at the Seams. She has a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism from Texas Christian University and a Master’s degree in Integrated Marketing Communications from Northwestern University.

Jenna and her husband live in a 103-year-old house in Texas affectionately known as “The Money Pit”. You can find out more about her and her books by visiting www.jennasutton.com.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

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June 13, 2016

Spotlight, Review & Excerpt: FAN THE FLAMES (Search and Rescue Series) by Katie Ruggle

FAN THE FLAMES (Search and Rescue Series) by Katie Ruggle

Publication Date: June 7, 2016

Genre: Contemporary Romance/ Romantic Suspense

In the remote Rocky Mountains, lives depend on the Search & Rescue brotherhood. But in a place this far off the map, trust is hard to come by and secrets can be murder…

As a Motorcycle Club member and firefighter, Ian Walsh is used to riding the line between the good guys and the bad. He may owe the Club his life, but his heart rests with his fire station brothers…and with the girl he’s loved since they were kids, Rory Sorenson. Ian would do anything for Rory. He’d die for her. Kill for her. Defend her to his last breath—and he may just have to.

Every con in the Rockies knows Rory is the go-to girl for less-than-legal firearms, and for the past few years, she’s managed to keep the peace between dangerous factions by remaining strictly neutral. But when she defends herself against a brutal attack, Rory finds herself catapulted into the center of a Motorcycle Club war—with only Ian standing between her and a threat greater than either of them could have imagined.

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This is another fun edition to the Search and Rescue series. I wondered what Ian’s story would be like and I wasn’t disappointed. The hot sexy biker revealed a softer side that I found very appealing as his relationship with Rory developed. As for Rory, although I could not relate to her, I liked her and enjoyed reading her journey. It helped that they were surrounded by the Search and Rescue team and their fun camaraderie. There was also plenty of pulse-pounding action that seemed to come from every direction, yet blended to make a cohesive story. All this blended to make a fun, action packed story that I just could not put down. I loved it.

*Review copy provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

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If Zup didn’t decide on the rifle within the next two minutes, Rory was going to shoot him.
Unfortunately, because he was the son of the local motorcycle club’s president, killing him—or even just putting a hole where no hole had been before—would pretty much guarantee severe consequences. Since Rory was moderately content with her life at the moment, she’d rather not have it end abruptly. Drawing a long breath in through her nose and praying for patience, she employed her subpar salesmanship skills.
“What’s the problem?”
Zup looked up from his scowling appraisal of the SUB 2000. “Maze said he had a Kel-Tec, and it jammed all the time.”
“Tell Maze to quit using crap ammo.” He just frowned at her. With another deep breath, she tried again. “These rifles are built to use common pistol magazines.”
“I know.” He held the rifle to his shoulder again. “That’s why I want one. That, and it can fold in half, so it’d be small enough to carry around in a laptop case.”
“Well, the recoil spring and bolt are heavier than in a pistol.” With a great effort, she kept most of the condescension out of her voice. Rory hated having to explain things to people, especially guys like Zup, who just ignored her anyway. This was why she hadn’t become a teacher. Well, that, and she’d most likely fail the background check—and probably the psych exam. “If you use poor quality rounds, you’re going to get some failures.”
Zup’s frown turned from the rifle to her. “Maze loads all our ammo. Are you telling me he’s fucking it up?”
“What I’m saying,” she gritted through clenched teeth, “is that if you run good ammo through this rifle, it’s going to be reliable.”
After eyeing her suspiciously for a few seconds, he grunted and brought the stock to his shoulder again. He shifted his position several times as he peered through the sights, and then complained, “This steel pipe sucks as a cheek rest.”
“That’s it.” She jumped off the counter where she’d been sitting and held out her hands. “Give it to me.”
Instead, he turned away from her while tucking the rifle close to his chest. “Hang on,” he told her. “I’m still deciding.”
“No, I’ve decided for you.” Rory flicked her fingers in a “gimme” gesture. There was a beep indicating someone had just come through the front door of her shop, and the last of her patience disappeared. “If you can’t appreciate an accurate, dependable, untraceable Kel-Tec SUB 2000 because it’s not comfy enough, then you don’t deserve it. Hand it over.”
Reluctantly, he relinquished the rifle. “I do want it. How much?”
“Nope. Too late.” She pulled down on the trigger guard and swung the barrel assembly up and over the receiver, marveling at the ingenuity it took to completely redesign a rifle so it could fold in half. As she gently placed it into its case, she couldn’t refrain from stroking her fingers over the gun’s practical shape. It wasn’t the most attractive of rifles, but it did its job. She’d take functional over pretty any day.
Zup watched the gun disappear. Although it was hard to tell under his bushy beard, she was pretty sure he was pouting. “Ro-ry…”
“What are you whining about now, Zup?” a low voice asked.
It took all her willpower not to look. If she glanced at Ian Walsh in all his dark, muscle-bound glory, she’d start stammering and blushing. Every time he walked into her store, his melty brown eyes focused on her, black hair mussed by his fireman’s helmet or a motorcycle ride, those full, beautiful lips curving into a friendly smile, she marveled that this incredible person was in her life. They were just friends, of course, but she told herself that it was enough—more than she could expect, really. With his model-perfect features and body, he looked as if he should be attending photo shoots, not leaning on the wall behind the counter, chatting with plain, weird Rory Sorenson.
Plain, weird Rory Sorenson, who right now couldn’t even look at him.
After that first breath-stealing moment when she first saw him, she could usually turn on casual-and-friendly mode, but not after the dream she’d had the night before—a dream that had featured her, Ian, his bike, and not many clothes. Her cheeks flamed at the memory. Keeping her gaze focused downward, she latched the case with more care than was required.

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Kindle: http://amzn.to/1SH25hR
Amazon PBK: http://amzn.to/1SH25hR
B&N: http://bit.ly/1ZXdfhW
iBooks: http://apple.co/21k5Laj
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1ZXducQ

Amazon Series Link: http://amzn.to/1QUqjBr

Search and Rescue Series
On His Watch (novella) ➢ http://amzn.to/1n61qck
Hold Your Breath ➢ Review 5 Stars http://wp.me/p3d0RZ-4Am | http://amzn.to/1P4yEFa
Fan the Flames ➢ http://amzn.to/1SH25hR
Gone too Deep ➢ http://amzn.to/1LiJlm3
In Safe Hands

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PREQUEL NOVELLA IS FREE

✦FREE ➢ On His Watch: Search and Rescue (Novella) by Katie Ruggle
Kindle http://amzn.to/1n61qck
B&N http://bit.ly/1NbCOUh
Kobo http://bit.ly/1KhBsr5

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When she’s not writing, Katie Ruggle rides horses, shoots guns, and travels to warm places where she can SCUBA dive. Graduating from the Police Academy, Katie received her ice-rescue certification and can attest that the reservoirs in the Colorado mountains really are that cold. While she still misses her off-grid, solar- and wind-powered house in the Rocky Mountains, she now lives in Rochester, Minnesota near her family. Katie Ruggle: http://katieruggle.com/

June 10, 2016

Review: TO LOVE A WOLF (SWAT, #4) by Paige Tyler

TO LOVE A WOLF (SWAT, #4) by Paige Tyler

Publication Date: June 7, 2016

Genre: Paranormal Romance

HE’S FOUND THE ONE…

SWAT officer Landry Cooper is certain Everly Danu is The One. The problem is, she has no idea what Cooper really is. And as much as he wants to trust her, he’s not sure he can share his deepest secret…

When Everly’s family discovers Cooper’s a werewolf, her brothers will do anything to keep them apart—they’ll kill him if they have to. Everly is falling hard for the ridiculously handsome SWAT officer, and she’s not about to let her brothers tell her who she can love… Until Cooper’s secret is exposed and she discovers the man she thought she knew is a monster in disguise.

BUT CAN HE KEEP HER?

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Donna 5 Stars

I connected immediately with both Cooper and Everly. Their relationship was fun to watch and even though it developed quickly, it never seemed too quick. I liked that. The story swirling around them was full of danger, intrigue and mystery. Throw in family stuff and I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough. The hot romance only added to my enjoyment. I loved it.

*Review copy provided NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

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Paige Tyler releases TO LOVE A WOLF, the fourth in her high-octane SWAT series, this June. To celebrate, we’re giving you the first SIX chapters to read FOR FREE!

Download the first six chapters here.

To get you started, we’ve included the first few pages below.

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Outside Samarra City, Iraq, 2009

Staff Sergeant Landry Cooper moved carefully through the rubble covering the floor of the partially demolished building, inching his way closer to the target. The maze of shattered brick and broken pieces of wood weren’t the biggest reason he was moving slowly, though. That had more to do with the hundred-degree temperature and the seventy-five-pound Kevlar bomb suit he was wearing. He despised the army’s suit with a passion that few people outside the Explosive Ordnance Disposal community could understand.
It wasn’t simply that it was hot and heavy. No, what he hated most about the suit was the nearly complete sensory deprivation that came with wearing it. Inside the claustrophobic helmet surrounded by a neck gusset designed to keep your head from getting ripped off your body during an explosion, you couldn’t hear much of anything, your line of sight was distorted by the thick, curved face piece, and your peripheral vision was nonexistent. Having to make a manual approach—better known in EOD circles as the long walk—on a suspected improvised explosive device, or IED, was bad enough. Doing it when you had an armor-plated pillow wrapped around your head?
That sucked.
But he didn’t have a choice. Local construction workers had come in this morning and found a suspected IED half buried in the dirt between two buildings. Cooper and his team had been able to use a robot to drop a small demolition charge near the device, but his disposal charge, combined with a bang from the IED, had caused part of the surrounding buildings to collapse, pissing off the locals and making it impossible to get the robot back in to clear the area.
If there was one cardinal rule in EOD, it was that you never released an incident location back to the good guys without being one hundred percent sure all hazards had been cleared. That meant doing a manual approach in the bomb suit to make sure there weren’t any explosive materials or secondary devices around.
Cooper wasn’t too worried about walking up to the package he’d just blown in place. While the relationship between the city’s Sunni population and ruling Shiite government forces would never be described as anything other than tense, lately things had been better. IED responses were way down, and they hadn’t seen a secondary explosive device, typically planted to target police and other first responders, in months.
Still, he played everything by the book, keeping the protected front of his suit facing the spot where the IED had been, and using the building’s structure for protection as much as possible. At the same time, he kept his head on a swivel, looking for anything that seemed out of place.
“I’m about twenty feet from where we blew the IED,” he murmured over his suit’s radio to his team members waiting in the safe area three hundred yards away, and then remembered he was wasting his breath. The damn radio had stopped working about a month ago, and a replacement wasn’t due for weeks. He was on his own.
Sweat trickled down his nose as he stepped over a low wall and moved toward the crater where the IED had been. He automatically lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his face and thumped against the plastic face piece.
“Shit, I hate this suit,” he muttered, forced to make due with wiggling his nose.
He reached the edge of the shallow crater and looked down. Two feet deep and six across, it looked like a big soup bowl. There were some rusty nails the bomb maker had added for fun, but the IED itself was long gone. Even better, his demo shot hadn’t exposed another one buried underneath.
Cooper pulled a sharpened fiberglass rod out of his pocket, then jumped into the crater. If there was anything here, the blast from the disposal shot would have uncovered it, but it didn’t hurt to check. Unfortunately, the heavy spine protector in the suit that helped keep an EOD tech’s back from being crushed if blown backward against something hard meant he had to squat down like a sumo wrestler to stick the probe into the dirt. He ignored the sweat and aggravation and made it work.
He’d moved almost all the way around the shot hole and was about to climb out to walk around the rest of the area when his probe hit something hard. He tensed, but then relaxed. He was still here, so it couldn’t be that bad. Dropping to one knee, he used his hand to slowly uncover what he’d found. When a horizontal, cylindrical pipe took shape, he assumed it was a water or sewer line.
They weren’t exactly common in structures as old as this one, but it could have been placed here to supply another building nearby. As he uncovered it, the pipe began to get smaller on one end. His gut clenched as realization dawned on him. He brushed off more dirt, revealing the nose of the 155-millimeter artillery round, as well as the metal electrical conduit extending out of it and running underground.
Fuck.
Cooper pushed himself to his feet and backpedaled toward the edge of the crater as fast as he could. An artillery round didn’t usually have a conduit sticking out the end. This one had been booby-trapped so the bomber could set it off manually whenever he wanted. The conduit was there so the IED wouldn’t cut the line if an EOD tech like him destroyed it. And with the conduit there, Cooper couldn’t cut the line either.
This device was an EOD killer put there because somebody knew a bomb tech would come down and look around before turning the site over to the local police.
His mind raced. A projectile this size carried fifteen pounds of high explosive. When it went off, even a bomb suit as good as the one he had on was unlikely to stop all the frag that came off it.
He reached the top of the crater and backed away as fast as he could. He would have been able to run faster if he turned around, but the weakest part of a bomb suit was the rear. If this thing went off when his back was to it, he’d have no chance.
Time slowed as a thousand thoughts zipped through his head. How he seriously didn’t want to die. How maybe the bomber on the other end of that firing line might have needed to go take a piss, and the 155 wouldn’t go off. How his parents and brothers were going to be crushed when they found out. How he should have gone to the prom with that cute girl in his math class back in high school. How one of the junior members on his team was going to be forced to step up and take over his job. How the new unit lieutenant was going to have to write a condolence letter on his first fucking day on the job.
Cooper pushed those thoughts away, yanking his hands inside the arms of the suit to keep them from getting ripped off in the blast as he focused his attention on moving backward as fast as he could.
Just get twenty feet away. Then you might have a chance.
He didn’t make it ten.
The blast threw him backward before his head even registered the flash of the projectile exploding. Luckily, he was so close that the wave took out the brick wall behind him before he could smash into it. But that luck ran out, and he slammed into the one behind it.
He felt a sharp stab in his back, then nothing from the middle of his chest down. The suit’s spine support had broken—and so had his back.
He hit the ground hard, tumbling like a kid’s toy until he came to a sudden stop against a pile of bricks. He felt pain—lots of it—at least from the chest up. He wasn’t sure how he was able to, but he lifted his head enough to look down, and saw long, jagged fragments from the 155 sticking out of him like he was a damn pincushion.
Cooper let his head drop to the ground and swore long and hard. He was so fucked.
A detached part of his mind noticed that pieces of the building were burning around him. That was interesting, considering how little flammable material was in the area. The flames weren’t too bad, but the smoke would probably choke him to death sooner or later. Not that he was likely to live long enough for that to happen. The frag had penetrated the bomb suit. He’d bleed out fast enough. He’d just be too numb to feel it.
Then someone was at his side, roughly prying up his face, telling him to hold on. That’s when he realized his ears weren’t working right. He could barely hear the person speaking. No shock there. The blast had blown out his eardrums.
He opened his eyes, expecting to see one of his junior teammates, and was shocked when he saw that it was Jim Wainwright, a fellow senior team leader and the best friend he’d ever had. Cooper hadn’t even known another team had arrived.
“Get the hell out of here!” Cooper shouted. Or at least he tried to. The words came out as nothing but a gurgling whisper. “Jim, you know this is stupid. There could be another device down here.”
Jim didn’t answer, but simply shoved his arms under the bomb suit, as if he thought he could pick up Cooper and carry him out of here. He didn’t bother to tell his friend how stupid that was. Besides all the frag sticking out of his body, making the task of picking him up akin to hugging a porcupine, Cooper and the bomb suit he wore weighed nearly three hundred pounds combined.
There was no way in hell Jim could pick him up.
“Go!” he ordered again. “You know I’m done anyway.”
Jim ignored him. Tears running down his face, he tried grabbing the heavy-duty rescue strap at the suit’s shoulder and dragged him across the rubble.
“Shit!” Cooper wailed in agony, white-hot fire shooting through his neck and shoulders. “Just fucking leave me alone and let me die!”
Jim disregarded that request too, grunting like a crazy man as he dragged Cooper over, around, and through the obstacles that separated them from the dilapidated building’s exit. Cooper was stunned his friend could actually move him at all. He’d heard of soldiers doing some insane shit in battle to save a buddy, but this had to be the craziest. Too bad he was already a goner. Cooper only hoped Jim would get a medal out of it. Then, at least, one good thing would come out of this day.
Cooper didn’t get much time to think about what the award write-up would sound like because the pain climbing up his neck like a wave of water drowned him until everything went black.

Download the first six chapters of To Love a Wolf here!

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Kindle: http://amzn.to/1WAS4o9
Apple: http://apple.co/1RxW32j
BAM: http://bit.ly/24E7M17
B&N: http://bit.ly/24E7vv9
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1PNcgkn

Amazon Series Link: SWAT (4 Book Series) http://amzn.to/1tf4Ls4

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Paige is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of sexy romantic suspense and paranormal romance. She graduated from The University of West Florida with a degree in education in 2000, but decided to pursue a full-time career as a writer in 2004. Since then, she’s written over fifty books in several genres, including paranormal, contemporary, western, sci-fi and erotica. She loves writing about strong, sexy, alpha males and the feisty, independent women who fall for them. From verbal foreplay to sexual heat, her stories of romance, adventure, suspense, passion and true love will leave you breathlessly panting for more.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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June 10, 2016

Release Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway: Unbreak My Heart by Nicole Jacquelyn

Unbreak My Heart by Nicole Jacquelyn

Publication Date: June 7, 2016

Synopsis

What do you do when your soul mate marries your best friend?

If you’re Kate Evans, you keep your friend Rachel, bond with her kids, and bury your feelings for her husband. The fact that Shane’s in the military and away for long periods helps-but when tragedy strikes, everything changes.

After Rachel, pregnant with her fourth child, dies in a car accident and the baby miraculously survives, Kate upends her entire life to share parenting duties. Then on the first anniversary of Rachel’s death, Kate and Shane take comfort in each other in a night that they both soon regret.

Shane’s been angry for a year, and now he feels guilty too – for sleeping with his wife’s best friend and liking it…liking her. Kate’s ability to read him like a book may have once sent Shane running, but their lives are forever entwined and they are growing closer.

Now with Shane deployed for seven months, Kate is on her own and struggling with being a single parent. Shane is loving and supportive from thousands of miles away, but his homecoming brings a betrayal Kate never saw coming. So Kate’s only choice is to fight for the future she deserves – with or without Shane…

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Excerpt

I don’t remember the drive to the hospital or even where I parked that afternoon. I can’t recall what the nurse looked like as she searched for Rachel’s name in their computer system or the walk toward the room where I waited for someone to speak to me.
The first thing I remember clearly is the white-haired doctor’s kind face as he sat down across from me, and the young chaplain’s small smile as he chose the chair to my left. Their words became a litany that I would hear in my dreams for years.
My Rachel was gone, but her son was alive and in the NICU.
“Is there anyone you’d like for us to call? Any family or friends that you’d like to be here?”
The question jolted me out of the fog that seemed to be getting thicker and thicker around me. Dear God.
“I’ll make the calls,” I answered, looking blankly at the wall. “Can I have some privacy please?”
“Of course. I’ll be right outside if you need me,” the chaplain answered, reaching out to pat my hand. “I’ll take you up to the NICU when you’re ready.”
The room was silent after they left, and I fought the urge to scream at the top of my lungs just to hear it echo around me. I understood then why people hired mourners to wail at funerals. Sometimes the lack of sound is more painful than the anguished noise of a heart breaking.
My hands shook as I pulled my phone out of my front pocket and rested it on the table in front of me.
It only took a moment before the sound of ringing filled the room, and I rested my head in my hands as I stared at the name across the screen.
“Hello? Kate? What’s wrong?”
“Shane—” I said quietly, my voice hitching.
“What? Why are you calling me?” His voice was confused, but I could hear a small thread of panic in the urgency of his words.
“I need you to come to Tri-City Hospital,” I answered, tears rolling down my face and landing on the glass screen of my phone, distorting the letters and numbers.
“Who?” His voice was frantic, and I could hear him moving around, his breathing heavy.
“Rachel was in an accident.” I sobbed, covering my face to try and muffle the noise.
“No,” he argued desperately, as I heard two car doors shut almost simultaneously. “Is she okay?”
I shook my head, trying to catch my breath.
“Kate! Is she okay?” He screamed at me, his anguished voice filling the room as I’d wanted mine to just minutes before.
“No,” I answered through gritted teeth, feeling snot running down my upper lip as I heard him make a noise deep in his throat. “She’s gone.”
He didn’t say a word, and less than a second later, the connection was broken.
I rubbed at my forehead, trying to convince myself that it was all just a nightmare. Where was I supposed to be? What was I supposed to do now? My best friend in the entire world was there in that hospital, but not really. I couldn’t bear to see her. I couldn’t help her. Where the fuck was I supposed to go?”
I made my way to the NICU as quickly as I could, and within minutes, I was holding my new nephew in my arms. The nurses told me that he’d passed all of his tests with flying colors, and I was in awe as I sat down in a rocking chair, cradling him to my chest.
“You sure got a shitty beginning, little man,” I murmured against his fuzzy scalp, rocking back and forth gently. “I’m so sorry, buddy. You’re probably missing your mama and that warm bubble you’ve been in for so long. I can’t help you there.”
I sniffled, closing my eyes as tears rolled down my cheeks. My whole body ached, and even though I had that little boy in my arms, the whole day seemed like some sort of surreal dream, foggy in some parts and crystal clear in others. I wanted to hop up and take his sleeping, little form to Rachel, to tease her about the weird Mohawk thing he was sporting and make joking comments about how men always seem to sleep through the hard parts of life. I wanted to see her smile proudly at the sturdy boy she’d produced and grumble that I was hogging him.
I wanted everything to be different.
I hummed softly with my eyes closed for a long time, holding the baby close to me. It was quiet where we sat, nothing breaking up the stillness of the room until I heard someone open the door.
“There he is,” the nurse murmured from the doorway.
My eyes popped open to see Shane’s ravaged face just feet from me. He looked like he was barely holding on. I swallowed hard as his red rimmed eyes took in his son carefully before rising to meet mine.
“Is he okay?” he asked thickly, searching my face. I’d never seen him so frightened.
“He’s perfect,” I answered, my voice throbbing with emotion. “The nurses said he’s a rock star.”
He nodded twice, reaching up to cover his mouth with his hand, but before he could say another word, he was stumbling and falling to his knees with an almost inaudible sob.

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Buy Links

Kindle: http://amzn.to/1sYEqOY
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1PqWr2F
iBooks: http://apple.co/1Y6kDZW
Kobo: http://bit.ly/25ExnN8

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Giveaway

Ten (10) Trade Paperback Copies of UNBREAK MY HEART

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

When Nicole Jacquelyn was eight and people asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, she told them she wanted to be a mom. When she was 12, her answer changed to author. Her dreams stayed constant. First, she became a mom, and then during her senior year of college–with one daughter in first grade and the other in preschool–she sat down and wrote a story.

Author Links: | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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June 8, 2016

Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: Hold You Against Me by Skye Warren

Hold You Against Me by Skye Warren

Publication Date: May 31, 2016 

Synopsis

From New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren comes a sexy new standalone in the Stripped series…  

Once upon a time the daughter of a mafia king fell in love with a foot soldier.

This fairy tale didn’t have a happy ending.

My sister and I barely managed to escape alive, and we’ve lived in relative hiding ever since. I’m safe now, but I can never forget the boy who gave his life to save mine.

Except there are whispers that he’s still alive. And he’s fighting a war.

Even knowing the risks, I have to find him. I have to find some way to protect him, the way he protected me. But he isn’t the boy I left behind. He’s a violent man. A criminal. And he’s been waiting for me–the final pawn in a dark game of survival and love.

Link to Follow Tour

Goodreads Link

Goodreads Series Link

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Excerpt

Something moves me gently, constant and rhythmic like waves. I’m warm. There’s something soft curling around my arms, wrapped inside my fists. Padding beneath my cheek that smells like home.
An unnatural darkness weighs down on me, keeping me from waking up—a demon’s whisper in my ear. You’re warm, you’re safe. Sleep.
But something is wrong.
I remember falling asleep, so suddenly, remember drinking water that I hadn’t filled. And I remember the phone call from Amy telling me that Giovanni’s alive. Impossible.
Awareness pricks my skin like a cold breeze. Wherever I am, I’m not alone.
I blink rapidly, forcing my eyes open. They adjust to the darkness quickly, taking in the tinted windows on either side and the wide leather bench curving beneath me. I’m in a car. A limo, to be exact. And it’s moving.
On the opposite side of the long space, a large body reclines. I can see the wide stance of his legs, the pale white of his shirt. A suit jacket tossed beside his hip. His face is hidden in the shadows of the vehicle.
I was raised by the head of the Las Vegas mafia, the capo. I grew up around guns and violence, so I know when a man is armed. It’s the way he holds himself, the warning shimmering around him like a dark halo.
This man is armed and extremely dangerous.
Every muscle in my body tenses. My mind still swims in thick water, because I must have been drugged. He drugged me, this faceless man. Why did he take me? It won’t be anything good, that’s for sure.
Even worse, I suspect this has something to do with my past, with my family. It’s messed up that I’d rather be taken by some random psycho. But at least then I’d have a chance of getting away.
“Who are you?” I demand, my voice hoarse from whatever drugs they gave me.
There’s a long pause, the weight of his regard as heavy as a finger trailing down my neck.
“Have I really changed that much, bella, that you don’t recognize me?”

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Buy Links

Amazon | B & N | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo

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($25.00 Amazon eGift Card)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dark romance such as Wanderlust and Prisoner. Praised as a “true mistress of dark erotica”, her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, four dogs, and one evil cat.