Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: Serving Trouble: A Second Shot Novel by Sara Jane Stone

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Serving Trouble: A Second Shot Novel by Sara Jane Stone

Publication Date: March 8, 2016

Synopsis

imageThe first sexy contemporary romance in Sara Jane Stone’s brand new Second Shot series!

Five years ago, Josie Fairmore left timber country in search of a bright future. Now she’s back home with a mountain of debt and reeling from a loss that haunts her. Desperate for a job, she turns to the one man she wishes she could avoid. The man who rocked her world one wild night and then walked right out of it.

Former Marine Noah Tager is managing his dad’s bar and holding tight to the feeling that his time overseas led to failure. The members of his small town think he’s a war hero, but after everything he’s witnessed, Noah doesn’t want a pat on the back. The only thing he desires is a second chance with his best friend’s little sister.

Josie’s determined to hold onto her heart and not repeat her mistakes, but when danger arrives on Noah’s doorstep and takes aim at Josie, they just might discover that sometimes love is worth the risk.

Link to Follow Tour

Goodreads Link

Goodreads Series Link

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Excerpt

Chapter 1

“I drove to the wrong bar.”
Josie Fairmore stared up at the unlit sign towering above the nearly vacant parking lot, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Nothing changed in Forever, Oregon. Everything from the people to the names of the bars remained the same. The triplets, who had to be over a hundred now, still owned The Three Sisters Café downtown. Every car and truck she’d sped past had the high school football team’s flag mounted on the roof or featured on the bumper. And her father was still the chief of police.
Nothing changed. That was why she’d left for college and never looked back.
Until now.
She’d blown past the Forever town line ten minutes ago. She’d driven straight to the place that promised a rescue from her current hell. And she’d parked under the sign, which appeared determined to prove her wrong.
“Josephine Fairmore, it is ten-thirty in the morning,” Daphne said, her tone oddly stern for the owner of a strip club situated outside the town limits. “The fact that you’re at a bar might be your first mistake.”
Damn. If the owner of The Lost Kitten was her voice of reason, Josie was screwed.
“When did they take the “country” out of Big Buck’s Country Bar?” Josie stared at the letters above the entrance to the town’s oldest bar. She twirled the key to her red Mini that looked out of place beside the lone monster truck in the lot. She should probably take the car back to the city. The Mini didn’t belong in the land of four wheelers, pick-ups, and logging trucks. The red car would miss the parking garage.
But I can’t afford the parking garage anymore. I can’t even pay my rent. Or my bills . . .
“Big Buck gave in three years ago,” Daphne explained, drawing Josie’s attention back to the bar parking lot. “He decided to take Noah’s advice and get rid of the mechanical bull. He wanted to attract the college crowd.”
“He got rid of the bull before I went to college.” And before his son left to join the United States Marine Corps. She should know. She’d ridden the bull at his going away party.
With Noah.
And then she’d ridden Noah.
“Well, Buck made a few more changes,” Daphne said. “He added a new sound system and—”
“He changed the name. I guess that explains why Noah came home.” She glanced at the dark, quiet bar. The hours posted by the door read Open from noon until the cows come home (or 3am, whichever comes first!).
“He served for five years and did two tours in Afghanistan. Stop by The Three Sisters and you’ll get an earful about his heroics,” Daphne said. “But from what I’ve heard, Noah didn’t want to sign up for another five. Not after his grandmother died last year.”
“You’ve seen him?” Josie looked down at her cowboy boots. She hadn’t worn them since that night in Noah’s barn. She’d thought they’d help her land the job at the “country” bar. But now she wished she’d worn her converse, maybe a pair of heels.
“Yes.”
“At The Lost Kitten?” Why, after all this time, after she never responded to his apologetic letter, would she care if Noah spent his free time watching women strip off their clothes? One wild, stupid, naked night cut short by her big brother didn’t offer a reason for jealousy.
But the fact that I told him I love him? That might.
“No. I bumped into him at the café.” Daphne hesitated. “He didn’t smile. Not once.”
“PTSD?” she asked quietly. She couldn’t imagine walking into a war zone and leaving without long, lasting trauma. The things he probably saw . . .
“Maybe,” Daphne said. “But he’s not jumpy. He just seems pissed off at the world. Elvira was behind the counter that day. She tried to thank him for serving our country after he ordered a burger. He set a ten on the counter and walked out before his food arrived.”
“He left his manners in the middle east.” Josie stared at the door to Big Buck’s. “Might hurt my chances for getting a job.”
“I think your lack of waitressing or bartending experience will be the nail in the coffin. But if Noah turns you down, you can work here.”
“I’d rather keep my shirt on while I work,” Josie said dryly.
And he won’t turn me down. He promised to help me.
But that was before he turned into a surly former marine.
“You’d make more without it,” Daphne said. “Or you can tell the hospital, the collection agency—whoever’s coming after you—the truth. You’re broke.”
“I did. They gave me a payment plan and I need to stick to it.” She headed for the door. “I ignored those bills for months. Besides what kind of mother doesn’t pay her child’s medical bills?”
The kind who buried her son twenty-seven days after he was born.
Daphne didn’t say the words, but Josie knew she was thinking them. Her best friend was the only person in Forever who knew the truth about why she was desperate for a paycheck. If only Daphne had inherited a restaurant or a bookstore—a place with fully clothed employees.
“He has to agree,” Josie added. “I need that money.”
“I know.” Daphne sighed. “And I need to get to work. I have a staff of topless waitresses and dancers who depend on me for their paycheck. Good luck, Josie.”
“Thanks.” She ended the call and slipped her phone into the bag slung over her shoulder alongside her wallet and resume.
She drew a deep breath. But a churning feeling started in her belly, foreboding, threatening. She knew this feeling and she didn’t like it. Something bad always followed.
Her boyfriend headed for the door convinced he was too young for a baby . . . Her water broke too early . . .
She tried the door. Locked, dammit.
Ignoring the warning bells in her head telling her to run to her best friend’s club and offer to serve a topless breakfast, she raised her hand and knocked.
“Hang on a sec,” a deep voice called from the other side. She remembered that sound and could hear the echo of his words from five long years ago, before he’d joined the marines and before she’d gone to college hoping for a brighter future—and found more heartache.
Call, email, or send a letter. Hell, send a carrier pigeon. I don’t care how you get in touch, or where I am, if you need me, I’ll find a way to help.
He’d meant every word. But people changed. They hardened. They took hits and got back up leaving their heart beaten and wrecked on the ground.
She glanced down as if the bloody pieces of her broken heart would appear at her feet. Nope. Nothing but cement and her boots. She’d left her heart behind in Portland, dead and buried thank you very much.
The door opened. She looked up and . . .
Oh my . . .wow . . .
She’d gained five pounds—well, more than that, but she’d lost the rest. She’d cried for weeks, tears running down her cheeks while she slept, and flooding her eyes when she woke. And it had aged her. There were lines on her face that made her look a lot older than twenty-three.
But Noah . . .
He’d gained five pounds of pure muscle. His tight black t-shirt clung to his biceps. Dark green cargo pants hung low on his hips. And his face . . .
On the drive, she’d tried to trick herself into believing he was just a friend she’d slept with one wild night. She’d made a fool of herself, losing her heart to him that night.
Never again.
She’d made a promise to her broken, battered heart and she planned to keep it. She would not fall for Noah this time.
But oh the temptation . . .
His short blond hair still looked as if he’d just run his hands through it. Stubble, the same color as his hair, covered his jaw. He’d forgotten to shave, or just didn’t give a damn. But his familiar blue eyes left her ready to pass out at his feet from lack of oxygen.
He stared at her, wariness radiating from those blue depths. Five years ago, he’d smiled at her and it had touched his eyes. Not now.
“Josie?” His brow knitted as if he’d had to search his memory for her name. His grip tightened on the door. Was he debating whether to slam it in her face and pretend his mind had been playing tricks on him?
“Hi Noah.” She placed her right boot in the doorway, determined to follow him inside if he tried to shut her out.
“You’re back,” he said as if putting together the pieces of a puzzle. But still no hint of the warm, welcoming smile he’d worn with an easy-going grace five years ago.
“I guess you didn’t get the carrier pigeon,” she said, forcing a smile. Please let him remember. “But I need your help.”

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Buy Links

AMAZON | B&N | iTunes | Kobo

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Giveaway

(Two (2) full print sets of Sara Jane Stone’s previous series “Independence Falls” to include FULL EXPOSURE, CAUGHT IN THE ACT, HERO BY NIGHT and WILD WITH YOU)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

imageAfter several years on the other side of the publishing industry, Sara Jane Stone bid goodbye to her sales career to pursue her dream-writing romance novels. Sara Jane currently resides in Brooklyn, New York with her very supportive real-life hero, two lively young children and a lazy Burmese cat. Join Sara Jane’s newsletter to receive new release information, news about contests, giveaways, and more! Visit http://www.sarajanestone.com and look for her newsletter entry form.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Blog Tour, Review & Giveaway: Hard Beat (A Driven Novel) by K. Bromberg 

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Hard Beat (A Driven Novel) by K. Bromberg

A Standalone Contemporary Romance Novel

Publication Date: November 3, 2015

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imageFrom the New York Times bestselling author of Sweet Ache comes a blistering new novel filled with danger, secrecy, and a desire that can’t be sated…

Foreign war correspondent Tanner Thomas is addicted to living on the edge. Needing the adrenaline rush of his job to help him cope with a personal loss, he throws himself back into the game, concentrating all his energy on getting the next big story. But when he meets his new photojournalist, Beaux Croslyn, he can’t help but feel like he’s losing his focus—and maybe risking more…

With secrets she won’t address, Beaux is far from your ordinary woman. Determined to keep her distance, she’s willing to pull Tanner in closer and hide behind the sparks flying between them. But as Beaux’s past begins to put their relationship—and their lives—at risk, Tanner’s determination to find the truth puts them both in jeopardy.

He’s ready to chase her to the ends of the earth to find out if what they had was real, or if the danger surrounding them was just an exquisite heat fated to burn out….

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Wow! Just wow! I loved this book! Loved it! I loved Tanner. I loved all the twists and turns this story took and all the emotions I felt while reading it. Hard Beat is a new favorite and will be on my #TopFav2015 list. K. Bromberg delivered another epic love story I won’t soon forget. I wanted to read it again as soon as I finished it. Hard Beat is part of K. Bromberg’s Driven Series, but it is a standalone romance. It is told entirely from Tanner’s POV. You don’t need to read the series to fully enjoy the book. I love the series though and highly recommend it. I can’t say enough good things about this book. Just trust me on this one. Go grab a copy and devour it! 

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

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The tension in the car between us thickens. The current of desire is so palpable, I feel like it kick-starts my heart every other beat. I blow out a breath as the elevator ascends, Beaux shifting her feet beside me.
“Did I do something wrong?”
I snort. Fuck, yes. But where do I even begin to explain? You made me want you? You made me worry when I told myself I wasn’t going to put myself in that situation ever again? You fucking don’t ever listen about not going off on your own? I want you so goddamn bad right now that the desire is so sharp, it’s painful.
The elevator dings, and I stride off the car to her door without looking back to see if she’s following. My body just knows she is.
It takes her a moment to fumble with her bag, get her room key out, and open her door, all the while casting curious glances my way.
“Put the camera down,” I order the minute we’re inside the door and it’s shut.
“What is your problem—?” she asks, but the question is cut off the second the camera strap leaves her hand, my body crashing into hers and pushing her up against the wall behind her. My lips find hers instantly.
It takes her a millisecond for the shock to fade and for her to respond, but once she does, we meet in a savage union of frenzied hands gripping, mouths taking, bodies begging to join in every way possible.
Beaux weaves her fingers in my hair and holds tight as she tears her mouth momentarily from mine. “I thought you were pissed at me.”
I kiss her fiercely, all tongue and teeth and possession, before I respond. “I’m furious. But I want you more.” It’s as true a statement as I’ve ever given, the moment stripping away any superfluous words. “You came back to me.”
“I’ll always come back to you,” she says, her voice breathless but resolute.

*****

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Kindle: http://amzn.to/1P4J5aN
Amazon PBK: http://amzn.to/1P4J46T
Nook: http://bit.ly/1XIwjk2
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1k2fXVd
iBooks: http://apple.co/1Hlkve0

Amazon Series Link: http://amzn.to/1LN4d1B

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image Mystery Box (3 Winners)
This box will be filled with goodies from K. Bromberg!

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imageNew York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

She’s a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced, Aced (releasing 1/11/16)), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat (releasing 11/3/15), and a short story titled UnRaveled. She is currently working on new projects and a few surprises for her readers.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon

Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: A Little Thing Called Love: Marrying the Duke Series by Cathy Maxwell

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A Little Thing Called Love
Marrying the Duke Series #0.5
By Cathy Maxwell

Releasing September 22, 2015

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imageGrandmother, grandmother, who shall it be
Who shall it be who will marry me?
Duke, Earl, a powerful marquess?
When my heart is given to Fyclan Morris…

In New York Times bestselling author Cathy Maxwell’s new novella, beautiful Jennifer Tarleton has no lack of noble suitors, but the only man who captures her attention is the one her father will never let her marry: Fyclan Morris. He’s a brash adventurer, witty, courageous…and Irish! Even worse, her father blames her for their reversal of fortune…

And it’s a fortune—or rather his grandmother the fortune teller—who foretold that Fyclan would meet “the one”, a love prophesied in the stars. He vows nothing will stand in the way of making Jennifer his bride, but is the price too high? Or is a thing called love worth every challenge?

Link to Follow Tour

Goodreads Link


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London 1780

​“Have you taken leave of your senses, man? Do you know who she is?”

​Fyclan Morris shrugged off his friend John Bishard’s astonished questions. “She’s a goddess,” he replied, moving after the heavenly creature who had passed them as they had come out of the watchmaker’s shop.

​The young woman, a vision in blue ribbons and lace from the top of her pert brimmed bonnet to the trim of her hems had not noticed him, as a proper young woman should not. Accompanied by a manservant and maid, she’d weaved her way through the crowded street, her attention on a piece of paper in her hand, unaware that she’d changed his life forever.

​It was her. Fyclan did not doubt the fact.

​“You’ll recognize her immediately,” his Gran had said. “She’ll be fair to your dark, a light to your step, a force you will not deny.”

​His Gran had claimed to see the future. She saw it in dreams, she said. The Irish believed in prophecy and accepted what they could not understand, but even among them, his Gran’s gift was special. She was Romany born, a gypsy until the day Fyclan’s Grandfather claimed he’d woven moonbeams into a rope and captured her to keep her.

​Fyclan had never doubted the story. There had been something magical about her. She had a knowledge of things that no one could explain. Even the priest claimed to be puzzled, and it was whispered that a few times, he’d asked her a question or two himself.

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 (3 digital copies of A LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE)

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$2.99 Kindle | B&N | iTunes | Kobo

image imageNew York Times Bestselling Author, Cathy Maxwell, spends hours in front of her computer pondering the question, “Why do people fall in love?” It remains for her the great mystery of life and the secret to happiness. She lives in beautiful Virginia with children, horses, dogs, and cats.

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Blog Tour, Review & Giveaway: Toxic by Kim Karr

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Toxic by Kim Karr

(A standalone novel)

RELEASE DATE: July 7th, 2015

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Will they or won’t they? #ToxicLove
Meet Phoebe & Jeremy in this second chance romance!

Kindle $3.79: http://amzn.to/1ctfiYD
Amazon PBK $12.60: http://amzn.to/1H4ngTn
B&N (PBK $12.60/ Nook $5.99): http://bit.ly/1DZO208
iBooks $5.99: http://apple.co/1Oxz7M0
Kobo $5.99: http://bit.ly/1aPK2Sv
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1B49fTK

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New York Times bestselling author Kim Karr turns up the heat in a smoking hot, emotionally compelling romance that takes you into the world of Manhattan’s elite. Meet Jeremy McQueen, a sexy, intense, brooding entrepreneur who goes after what he wants, and Phoebe St. Claire, a socialite-turned-CEO who’s been drifting through life searching for something she thought she’d never find again–the right man to share her future.

Phoebe St. Claire has devoted herself to saving her family’s hotel empire–but her best efforts have not been good enough. With her whole world in turmoil, the tenacious go-getter turns to the once love of her life. Far from innocent, Jeremy McQueen was the guy from the wrong side of the tracks who her parents would never have approved of. Their years apart have only made the sexy bad boy more irresistible than ever–and their reunion is explosive.

When she asks Jeremy to help her salvage her family business, he agrees immediately, with only one condition–he wants her in his bed.

But soon surprising circumstances leave Phoebe reeling. Was this fairy tale romance just too good to be true? Will Jeremy’s secrets pull them apart all over again?

THIS IS A STANDALONE SECOND-CHANCE ROMANCE WITH NO CLIFFHANGER ENDING.

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Loved Jeremy! Toxic is a standalone second chance romance that is captivating, original and sexy. I loved every minute of it! Kim Karr always delivers a beautiful love story. Toxic had twists and turns that held my interest and a couple that were made for each other. Kim Karr always makes me believe in soulmates when I finish one of her books. I loved this story and it’s definitely going on my favorites list for 2015. I highly recommend this book for romance lovers looking for a unique story with heat. I can’t wait to see what Kim Karr has in store for us next. She’s on my automatic buy list.

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

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© 2015 by Kim Karr
Published by the Penguin Group
Release date: July 7th, 2015

Phoebe St. Claire

“Where are you?” he asked.
“Home.”
“I know. Where in your apartment are you?”
“On my bed.”
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Give me a minute.”
I heard stomping up some stairs and then a door closed.
“On my bed,” he said in that same husky tone.
I nearly stopped breathing.
“Are you still there?” he asked again.
“Yes,” my voice was raspy.
In a deep husky voice he said, “Tell me what you’re wearing under your clothes.”
Arousal overtook my mind and I answered quickly. “A bra and panties.”
“Take off your clothes and tell me what they look like.”
Flushing from head to toe I managed to say, “Jeremy!”
“Phoebe, I’ve seen you in your underwear. Christ, I’ve seen you naked. Just put your phone on speaker, dim the lights, and describe to me the lucky pieces of fabric covering your tits and pussy.”
Shock and desire swarmed through me in equal measure.
Memories of his dirty mouth came back in a flash.
I’d loved it so many years ago, loved when we were flesh to flesh. And this was different. I’d never had phone sex before. Had no idea how to, but I knew I was about to find out. I wasn’t going to turn him down. I wanted this.
The sexual tension that had blossomed between us was causing me to go insane. I was touching myself when I woke up in the middle of the night, and then in the shower before work, and last night and the night before after I hung up the phone with him. I’d been masturbating to the thought of him nonstop. Phone sex had to be so much better.
“Give me a minute,” I whispered needing to ease into the more intimate exchange that I knew was coming. I stripped out of my skirt and blouse and all but tore my hose pulling them off. The lights were already dimmed, so that wasn’t an issue. I heard his own mattress squeaking and wondered if he had started without me.
My phone beeped again and I looked down. This time it was an incoming call from Jamie. I ignored it. Then, I took a deep breath and a giant leap of faith as I sat on my bed in my underwear.
Just as I was thinking about what I could say, he spoke. “I have to be honest with you,” he said.
My heart sank. I didn’t like any conversation that started with those words.
With a heavy exhale, he said, “I’ve been hard all week just thinking about you and I have to admit, my wrist hasn’t been worked out this much in a long time.”
Picturing his hand, his cock, his hips, and the perfect choreographed movement of all three had me barely cognizant.
“Phoebe?”
“I’m here,” I said in the raspiest tone. “Then I’ll be honest too. It’s possible that I’ve made myself come more times this week than I have in my entire life.”
I wasn’t exactly comfortable initiating a kinky conversation. But I could follow his lead.
“Jesus Phoebe, you can’t talk that way to me when I’m not near you.”
Something primal erupted within me. “And I want to do it again.”
“Fuckkkk.”
I moaned at his use of the word fuck. It sounded entirely too delicious.
Equally as delicious was his sexy laugh that followed. “So what are we going to do about this dilemma?”
I sunk back into my pillows and pictured his face—his lips parted and his eyes heavy-lidded.
I knew what I wanted to do about it.
Did he want to do the same thing?
I hoped so.

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IMG_0031 imageI live in Florida with my husband and four kids. I’ve always had a love for reading books and writing. Being an English major in college, I wanted to teach at the college level but that was not to be. I went on to receive an MBA and became a project manager until quitting to raise my family. I currently work part-time with my husband and full-time embracing one of my biggest passions—writing.

Social Media Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

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Blog Tour, Review & Giveaway: Wolf with Benefits (Pride Series) by Shelly Laurenston

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Wolf with Benefits
Pride # 8
By: Shelly Laurenston

Publication Date: June 30, 2015

Genre: Paranormal Romance

5 STARS

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There’s nothing like a good ol’ boy wolf. And ace security expert Ricky Lee Reed serves, protects and seduces with all the right moves…

Sure, Toni Jean-Louis Parker has to be the responsible oldest sister to a crazy-brilliant clan of jackal siblings. But now she’s cutting loose for some hot, sweaty, no-commitments fun—and the sexy, slow-talking, swift-moving predator assigned to keep her family safe is just the right thing to shapeshift her love life into overdrive. Trouble is, he’s starting to get all obsessive wolf on her every time he looks in her direction…

Getting serious about anyone isn’t in Ricky Lee Reed’s plans. Hell, even now he doesn’t really have a plan—outside of catching whoever is threatening this dangerously brilliant family. But the more he sees of Toni, the more he’s howling for her. And whatever it takes to convince her that what they have is everything, well, this wily wolf is down for the sizzling chase…

Link to Follow Tour

Goodreads Link

Goodreads Series Link

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Book 8 in the Pride series introduces Toni and her huge strange family of jackals and although at first it seemed a bit too hectic, it soon fell into a steady rhythm. That had to do with Ricky, one of the Reed boys that I have grown to love due to his quiet patience. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a Reed and full of the sarcastic humor that keeps you chuckling but he knows what he wants and is willing to quietly worm his way into her life. While it still hit all the marks, it isn’t as romantic as some of the others due to the story. The chaos and snarky humor was fast paced and full of all the beloved characters that are the hallmark of this series. This was the third time I’ve read the book and it won’t be the last.

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

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IMG_0032 “Are you my daddy?”
Ricky Lee Reed, originally of Smithtown, Tennessee, and only replanted to New York City a few years back, gawked at the child who’d asked him the question for a mere moment before he turned his attention to the adult female who held the child.
He’d admit it wasn’t a question he expected to get, you know, ever. For a bunch of reasons, too, but mostly because he didn’t know this woman. He wasn’t one of those guys who nailed so many females he forgot their faces or names. So then . . . why was this child asking him this question? And even stranger, why was the female raising her brows and suddenly asking, “Well . . . are you?”
Wait. Wouldn’t she know? Shouldn’t she? Good Lord, this city. Maybe he’d never get used to living here. Ever. It was surprisingly safer than life in Smithtown, Tennessee, but it  as weirder. Maybe because there were way more full-humans in Manhattan—he’d found full-humans were much stranger than shifters—and Smithtown was filled with shifters. Wolves, mostly. A few bears on the outskirts too old and big for the Pack to bother trying to make move. But all those wolves in one place with enough ’shine to take down the Russian army meant there was a lot more danger around those hills of his hometown than there ever could be on the mean streets of this city. No matter what the movies said. And yet life in Manhattan could be so strange in comparison to what he’d left behind.
He’d only come over to this bench inside the giant Sports Center, home to all of New York’s shifter-run sports teams, so he could chat with the pretty female sitting there. Perhaps get her number. She was real cute, probably because of all that curly hair. Most of the females in his Pack had straight hair, but this one had blondish-brown hair with lots of black streaks that was just kind of a curly mess. Just these wild, soft curls that nearly covered her eyes and reached to her shoulders. Yeah. He liked her hair. And the fact that she was a jackal didn’t mean much to him. She was still canine, like him, and he wasn’t looking for his mate. Just a few dates, maybe a little fun . . .
Fun. Not fatherhood.
“No,” he finally told them both. “I’m not your daddy.”
The female hugged the boy on her lap and kissed his forehead. “Sorry, Denny. Maybe we’ll find your daddy someday.”
Now Southern politeness would dictate that Ricky Lee should just leave this whole thing alone. Not ask questions, not suggest that maybe she should keep better track of her past lovers. But he just couldn’t bring himself to walk away. He was too curious.
She glanced at him. “Oh . . . are you still here?”
Before he could ask why he couldn’t keep sitting on this bench, without being glared at, several more children walked up to the female. A teenager with her big brown eyes glued to her cell phone, a young boy, and a toddler female holding the boy’s hand. They surrounded the She-jackal, the toddler trying to push the boy Denny aside so she could take his place on their mother’s lap.
That sure was a lot of pups for such a young female.
“Who are you talking to?” the jackal demanded of the teenager. Wait. Was she old enough to have a teenager?
“No one.”
“That’s a lot of typing for no one.”
Sighing dramatically as only teenagers managed to do, the girl asked, “Do we have to hang around here much longer?”
“I’m not leaving until I get what I want,” the eldest boy said with a lot of confidence for what looked to be only a nine- or ten-year-old. “So suck it up already.”
“I’ve got shit to do, you little brat.”
“More toe shoes to buy? More positions to contort your body into until you hit thirty or so and have to resign yourself to the fact your career is over? If you want to call it a career.”
The teenager almost had her hands around her brother’s throat—and he knew they were all siblings, no one else could annoy a body like a sibling—when the She-jackal snapped, “Leave him alone!”
“You always protect him.”
“Perhaps that’s because I actually have talent bestowed upon me by the gods, which is better than mere genetics that allowed my legs to grow impossibly long.”
“I hate you,” the teenager hissed at her brother.
“I live for hatred,” the boy replied. “It rejuvenates my creative fire.” It was a really strange thing for a young boy to say. Really strange. But even stranger was when he glanced over at Ricky and abruptly asked, “Are you our daddy?”
And before Ricky could say in no uncertain terms, “Absolutely not,” the doors that led to the main training rink burst open and Ricky’s hockey-playing brother, Reece Lee, flew through them.
Ricky instinctively grabbed the child in the most danger— the toddler—and moved. The She-jackal still had the boy on her lap, so she quickly stood, her arms tight around him. But she also jumped to the side, using her body to shove the older boy and his teenage sister away.
As an impromptu team, they seemed to have perfect timing as Ricky’s younger brother rammed into the wooden bench they’d been sitting on, completely destroying it in the process. Ricky didn’t bother to rush to Reece Lee’s help, though. He knew better. A few seconds later, a seven-one, nearly four hundred- pound hybrid barreled through those rink doors and stalked over to Reece.
The hybrid grabbed Reece by his training jersey and lifted him up, only to slam him back down again. Reece bared his fangs and started to fight back, claws out. It wasn’t a pretty fight, like one of those choreographed ones you’d see in an action movie. Instead it was more like watching a couple of pit bulls go at it in someone’s yard.
“Are you just going to stand there?” the She-jackal demanded, her glare on Ricky.
“That was my plan.”
“But I saw you with the smaller one earlier,” she said over the snarling, growling, and roaring. “You know him.”
“Barely.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re brothers, aren’t you?”
“According to my momma, but I still want DNA tests to prove it.”
The older boy tried to shoot past the She-jackal toward the fight, but the teenager grabbed the back of his T-shirt and held on.
“Are you insane?” the teenager demanded of her brother.
“Toni promised me I’d get to meet him!”
“I promised I’d try,” the She-jackal shot back. Huh. The kid called her “Toni.” Not “Mom” or “Mommy.” Then it hit Ricky . . . these weren’t her kids. At least not all of them. They were her brothers and sisters.
The teenager caught hold of her younger brother by the back of his neck, the extra flesh every canine predator child had there giving her a better collar than some strip of leather. “Toni’s not about to let you get in the middle of a predator fight.”
“But—”
“I keep telling you, Kyle,” the She-jackal reminded him, “we’re scavengers. Wait until the vultures arrive. Then you can go over and maybe get a little lunch.”
When Ricky raised a brow, the She-jackal only smirked and gave a small shrug.
Deciding not to ask too many questions, Ricky focused on his brother and the hybrid—who was a damn talented hockey player—that had Reece on his back, big bear-lion hand around the wolf’s throat.
Reece was putting up a good fight, though. Desperately trying to get the crazed hybrid off him. Too bad it wasn’t working.
After landing a few blows to the hybrid’s face, Reece glared at Ricky. “You going to do somethin’?” he squeaked out.
“Didn’t you tell me yesterday to stay out of your business?” Ricky asked, grinning.
“Son of a—”
“Hey,” Ricky cut in. “There are pups here. Gotta watch your mouth.”
The She-jackal sighed. “Seriously?” she demanded. “I mean . . . seriously?”
“What?”
“He’s getting the holy hell beaten out of him by a man whose hair just suddenly grew.”
“That’s his mighty mane. Only comes out when he’s really mad.”
“And you’re comfortable with him basically pummeling your brother?” Ricky thought on that, but he must have taken too long to answer because the She-jackal handed off the boy in her arms to the teenager.
“It’s like I have to take care of everything,” she snapped at Ricky before walking around to the two fighting males and yelled over the roaring, “Excuse me, Mister . . . uh . . .” She glanced back at the oldest boy, Kyle.
“Novikov,” Kyle prompted.
“Right. Mr. Novikov? Mr. Novikov!” The hybrid stopped, his hand still gripping Reece’s throat, his massive body still pinning the wolf to the ground. Slowly, he looked up at the jackal, mane nearly covering glowering blue eyes.
“Hi.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m Antonella Jean-Louis Parker. Toni for short. That’s Toni with an ‘i,’ not a ‘y.’ Anyway, Ulrich Van Holtz may have mentioned that I was going to stop by today. And this is Kyle.” She snapped her fingers and the boy quickly moved to her side. “Kyle really wants your autograph and although I’m sorry to interrupt your . . .wolf-pummeling, I am on a bit of a schedule.” She tapped the sturdy-looking diving watch on her wrist. “So is there any way we could speed this up? Maybe you could assault the wolf later? Kyle would really appreciate it.”
The boy grinned. “I would!”
The hybrid studied the jackal for several long seconds before he nodded. “Schedules, I understand.” Then he looked down at Reece and roared in his face, “Schedules! Learn the concept!”
He released his grip on Reece and got to his mighty big feet. By the time Novikov stood, his mane had lessened considerably, something the She-jackal noticed, her eyes narrowing a bit. The hybrid faced her, his back now to Reece. That’s when he mule-kicked him, sending Ricky’s brother flying until he slammed into one of the many pillars around the building.
Ricky cringed. He sure bet that hurt.
“What do you want me to sign?”
“Get the shirt, Kyle.” The boy took off his backpack and quickly dug out a hockey jersey and a permanent marker. Based on the jersey’s colors it looked like it was from the Washington shifter hockey team. A team that the hybrid had once belonged to. That guy had belonged to a lot of teams, and to this day many of his past teammates still hated him.
The boy handed over the shirt and marker to the hybrid. As Novikov signed, he asked the boy, “So do you play hockey?”
“No, sir.”
“Really? How come?”
“Because I plan to use my brilliance for something real and important, not something petty like sports.”
The She-jackal cringed, her head dropping while Novikov’s head snapped up.
“Sorry?”
“See, what I like about what you do,” the boy explained, his hands accenting each word, his voice intense, “is the raw rage and violence. I can use that in my work. And while you’ll probably be forgotten soon after you retire, which is the way of you athletic types whose happiest years are usually when you’re in high school”—he glanced back at his teenage sister and she rewarded him with the one-finger salute—“my legacy will live on for centuries. People will study my work, copy it. My work will start a new art movement, a new wave of creativity born out of blood and violence and rage. And you . . . you, Mr. Novikov, will be my David.”
“David?”
“Like Michelangelo’s David? But instead my piece will be called Jean-Louis Parker’s Novikov, and it will be the greatest art anyone has ever seen. And you . . . you, Mr. Novikov, will be my muse.”
The hybrid blinked and then finally asked exactly what Ricky was thinking. “How old are you?”
“Eleven. But I don’t allow my age to hold me back from my future. Only those weak of mind do that.”
Novikov sighed and handed the signed shirt back to the boy. “I wish I could say you disgust me, but I understand you more than you’ll ever realize, kid. So go forth and kick ass.”
“I will. Thank you!”
He nodded at the boy, then the jackal. “Ma’am,” he said before he started back toward the rink.
But that’s when the kid threw out, “And is there a chance I can sketch you naked?”
Novikov stopped walking, his entire body jerking a bit. The She-jackal’s eyes popped open wide at the child’s question, her hand slapping across his mouth and yanking him against her body as Novikov faced them.
“He’s just kidding,” she quickly said before Novikov could ask. “He’s just kidding.”
The boy struggled against the jackal, his muffled words sounding like, “No, I’m not!” But the jackal didn’t release her grip, merely smiled. “And thanks for the autograph.”
Novikov nodded, grunted, and walked back to the rink, the big doors slamming behind him.
That’s when she released the boy, and using the hand not still holding the youngest brother, spun Kyle around so he faced her.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“It was just a question. He should feel privileged. The greatest artist ever known found his physique worthy of my precious attention. He should be bowing at my feet for such an honor.”
The She-jackal stared at him for several seconds before announcing, “You’re an idiot. And if you ever do that again, or I find out from someone else that you did it again, I’m going to kick your ass from here all the way back to Washington.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Do you understand me?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t—”
She grabbed the boy by the back of his neck and yanked him up with one hand. He dangled a good four feet off the ground, his gaze locked with the She-jackal’s. “Do you understand, Kyle?” she asked again.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.”
She released him and shoved the signed shirt back into his hands once he landed on firm ground.
The teenager sighed. “Can we just go already?”
“We have to see Ric first. Here. Take Dennis.”
The jackal handed off the youngest boy before turning to stare at Ricky. He gazed back. Smiled.
After a few moments of that, she asked, “Are you going to give her back to me?”
That’s when Ricky realized he still held the little pup he’d pulled out of the way of Novikov’s rage.
“Oh. Sorry about that.” Ricky handed the pup over. She’d fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, her fist shoved in her mouth. She whined a little as the transfer was made, but settled back to sleep once the jackal had her.
“Thank you,” the She-jackal said, and gave him a small smile.
It was the smile that did it, more than the politeness.
“You know,” Ricky began, “if you’re not busy tonight—”
Pointing at Ricky with her cell phone, the teen asked, “Are you our daddy?”
Disgusted, Ricky stated to the jackal, “Woman, there has to be an easier way for you to get rid of a man.”
“Perhaps, but I’ve found that there’s nothing quicker. “She winked at him, then gestured behind him with her chin. “And you may want to check on your brother—he’s still bleeding.”
“Yeah. I think Novikov nicked an artery . . . again.”
She stopped, glanced back at him. But with a little snortlaugh, she walked off without another word.

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Originally from Long Island, New York, Shelly Laurenston has resigned herself to West Coast living, which involves healthy food, mostly sunny days, and lots of guys not wearing shirts when they really should. Shelly is also the New York Times bestselling author G.A. Aiken, creator of the Dragon Kin series. For more info about Shelly’s books go to http://www.shellylaurenston.com. Or to check out G.A.’s dangerously and arrogantly sexy dragons go to www.gaaiken.com

Author Links: Website | Goodreads

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Blog Tour, Review & Giveaway: Call On Me (A Loving on the Edge Novel) by Roni Loren

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Call On Me by Roni Loren

Publication Date: July 7, 2015

Genre: Contemporary Romance/ Erotica 

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Oakley Easton wants two things: to be a good mom to her daughter and to ditch her less than ideal night job. Hooking up with bad boy drummer Pike Ryland? Not on the agenda. She needs a promotion. Not sex, tattoos and rock ’n’ roll. Pike isn’t about to let Ms. Prim and Proper shut him down so easily, especially when he stumbles upon Oakley’s sexy night job. She’s only playing a role on those late night calls with strangers, but when he gets her on the line, all bets are off. He won’t stop until that sultry voice is calling his name for real.

But as they move from anonymous fantasies in the dark to the flesh-on-hot-flesh reality of the bedroom, the risk of falling in love becomes all too high. And the safe, quiet world that Oakley’s worked so hard to create is about to be exposed to the one person who could ruin it all.

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I had high expectations for Pike’s book. I loved him in a previous book and couldn’t wait to get my hands on Call On Me. Roni Loren delivered! Call on Me was everything I wanted it to be and more. I devoured the book and fell even more in love with Pike. Call On Me was fun, emotional, and scorching hot. Roni Loren’s Loving on the Edge series keeps getting better and I can’t wait to see what she has in store for us next. If you haven’t read this series I highly recommend it for erotica lovers looking for well written erotica romances with great stories to go with the heat we look for in erotica. I always want to have a love story and happy ending when I pick up anything in the romance genre and I expect that in erotica as well. This is a great series that delivers that and I highly recommend it.

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

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She startled and stiffened, instantly yanked out of her less than PG thoughts. “What?”

He leaned back in his chair, vague confusion on his face. “I asked if wanted to keep working in that back room? We could rehearse at the studio once they’re close to being ready to record. But until then, it’s probably more trouble than it’s worth to cart everyone over there. It’s not that big of a place.”

“Rehearse in the back room?” she repeated, running the words back in her head to make sense of them. “Oh, right, yes, that’s fine. I’m sorry. I thought you said something else.”

She eyed the small bellini she’d ordered with her meal. Maybe that had been a bad idea. She was hearing things now.

Screw in the bathroom? How the hell had she gotten that out of what he’d said? Of course, now all she could think of was him doing just that—taking her by the elbow and leading her to that dark alcove at the back of the restaurant, pushing her up against that wall with the faded Italian flag on it and putting his hands all over her. She licked her top lip, tasting the sweet remnants of her drink. Pull it together, woman.

Apparently, once her libido had been brave enough to peep its head out, it had decided it was Groundhog Day and needed to run around, declaring spring was coming early. She hated to break the news, but nothing and no one was coming anytime soon.

“What did you think I said?” Pike took a long sip from his drink, his snake charmer eyes never leaving hers

She followed suit, hoping the fruity drink would cool off more than her throat. “Doesn’t matter.”

His lips twitched. “You’re all red.”

“I think it’s the bellini. I don’t drink very often.”

“No way.” His expression turned smug. “You thought I said something dirty, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” She smoothed her napkin in her lap, trying to loosen the tightness in her voice. “No. Why would I think that? You’ve been very professional since we got here—which I appreciate by the way.”

His gaze slid lazily down her body, like butter melting over toast, and goddamn it all to hell, she could feel her nipples go hard and obvious beneath her bra. No wonder he’d figured it out. Her body was waving all kinds of flags in his face. Hey! Over here! Horny girl, booth eight!

“I am capable of being professional, you know,” he said, but his tone was all sex and sin. “I’m also more than happy to turn that off when the occasion calls for it. So why don’t you tell me what you thought you heard and why it’s gotten you all flushed and nervous?”

“I’m not nervous.”

He grinned.

Dammit. She schooled her face into a stoic expression. “The music is too loud in here. I thought you propositioned me to defile the restroom.”

Hie eyebrow ring twitched. “Now you’re just trying to turn me on with those big, stiff words of yours.”

All she heard was big and stiff at first, but she managed to rein in her temporary insanity. “We’re so not going to do this.”

“Well, probably not here, you’re right. I saw those bathrooms. But—“

“No, I mean, any of this. Flirting. Teasing. Whatever this is.”

He leaned onto his forearms, looking all too pleased that he’d gotten a confession out of her. “You got a guy?”

“No,” she said before she could get wise and fib.

“Then why can’t we do this?”

“Because I’m not interested.”

“Liar.”

She huffed. “Are you always this cocky?”

“No, it’s dialed down right now. I can get way worse.”

She stirred her drink. “Not. Possible.”

His lips spread into a menacing smile. “Challenge accepted.”

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imageRoni wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. Though she’ll forever be a New Orleans girl at heart, she now lives in Dallas with her husband and son.

If she’s not working on her latest sexy story, you can find her reading, watching reality television, or indulging in her unhealthy addiction to rockstars, er, rock concerts. Yeah, that’s it. She is the National Bestselling Author of The Loving on the Edge series from Berkley Heat.

Places to find Roni Loren: Website | FacebookTwitter | Goodreads

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Blog Tour, Review & Giveaway: King by T.M. Frazier

King by T.M. Frazier

Publication Date: June 15, 2015

 

 KING. IS. HERE!
NOW AVAILABLE

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Homeless, hungry and desperate enough to steal, Doe has no memories of who she is or where she comes from.

A notorious career criminal just released from prison, King is someone you don’t want to cross unless you’re prepared to pay him back in blood, sweat, pu$$y or a combination of all three.

King’s future hangs in the balance. Doe’s is written in her past. When they come crashing together, they will have to learn that sometimes in order to hold on, you have to first let go.

Warning: This book contains graphic violence, consensual and nonconsensual sex, drug use, abuse, and other taboo subjects and adult subject matter. Although originally slated to be a standalone, KING is now a two part series.

  

 

King

Tattooing Doe was the single most erotic moment of my life. Marking her perfect, pale skin with a tattoo I’d designed for her made me so fucking hard I had to adjust myself every thirty seconds in order to concentrate on my work.

When I was done, I handed her the hand mirror, and she walked over to the full-sized mirror that hung on the back of the door, like she’d seen dozens of my other clients do before. When she held up the hand mirror, she gasped.

“What?” I asked in a panic, hoping she didn’t already see what I’d hidden in the tattoo. I was an asshole for putting it there. I was an asshole for tattooing her in the first place.

I was just an asshole.

But I couldn’t help myself. My name needed to be on her. It wasn’t enough just to call her mine. I needed to mark her as well. So hidden in the vine work under the quote I found that I thought was perfect for her, was my name.

KING was woven into the design. In order to see it you had to tilt your head or otherwise you wouldn’t notice it. But it was there.

I would tell her eventually of course, but I wanted it to be my secret for a while. She’d stopped being my possession a while ago, a lot longer before I cared to admit, but I still felt the need to mark her as mine.

I still liked the idea of owning her.

Only now, she owned me, too.

She didn’t notice the name. Tears filled her eyes. She stood there staring at the hand mirror in just her panties. Little cheeky ones where her ass hung out of the bottoms. Her tits were only inches from my face. Her tears of happiness made my dick twitch. Although her sad tears evoked the same response.
My dick wasn’t partial to which kind of tears he liked.

I took the mirror from her hand and lifted her up onto the counter. “You like it?” I asked, pushing her panties down her legs.

“I love it,” she panted, wrapping her legs around me, drawing me close. Her wetness soaking my boxers. I pushed them down with one hand. I’d been hard for three hours, the entire tie I’d been working on her, and couldn’t wait any longer. I pushed inside her tight, wet heat.

We both moaned at the contact.

“You love it?” I asked, needing to hear her say it again.

“Yes, I love it!” she said as I thrust up into her, hard. “I love it. So much. I love you.”

I froze when I heard the words, and when I did, her eyes flung open.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Shut the fuck up.

“Oh my god, I have that word vomit thing. I’m sorry. Shit, I just meant that—”

“Shut the fuck up!” I demanded, thrusting hard to get her attention. She closed her eyes, and her head fell back. “That’s fucking better. Now, keep that pretty mouth of yours shut while I fuck you.”

“Okay,” she whispered, breathless.

“Shut up,” I said again, and she closed her mouth. “Shut up so I can fuck you…and show you how much I love you.”

She nodded and although her eyes stayed shut, a tear rolled down her cheek. I sucked it off her chin before it could fall to the floor.

Then, I fucked her.

Hard.

I showed her how much I loved her until I couldn’t tell where I started and she began. Until all that was in that room was me and her and the thing between us that kept pulling us together like magnets.

Until we were lost in sensations and orgasms.

And in each other.

I fucked her until we were one person, and in a way we were, because I’d lost myself along the way and I found myself again in the most unlikely place.

I’d found myself again in the haunted eyes of a girl who was just as lost as I was.

Or maybe, we didn’t find each other at all.

Maybe, we just decided to be lost together.

 

Loved it! King is a dark, gritty and emotional romance. It’s not for everyone. I’d suggest reading the blurb before buying because there are darker elements in the book. I loved King and Doe! T.M. Frazier delivered an exciting new series with characters that draw the reader in. I loved the secondary characters as much as I loved the main characters and I hope we’ll get their stories. There is a cliffhanger but not the kind that makes me want to throw my ereader against the wall. The story will continue in Tyrant and I can’t wait to get my hands on it when it releases. I’m addicted! I recommend this book for readers looking for a dark erotica series with a villain/ hero.

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

 

  

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

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

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

It only took her twenty years to start the next one.
It will not be about hamsters.

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Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: Up in Smoke by Tessa Bailey

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Up in Smoke by Tessa Bailey

Meet Ex- Navy Seal Connor in this unconventional romance!

Publication Date: June 23, 2015

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Never start a fire you can’t control…

Connor Bannon is supposed to be dead. Dishonorably discharged from the Navy SEALs, he’s spent the last two years working as a street enforcer in Brooklyn for his cousin’s crime ring. Through a twist of fate, he’s now in Chicago, working undercover to bust criminals. But when a cute little arsonist joins the team-all combat boots, tiny jean shorts, and hot-pink hair-Connor’s notorious iron control slips.

Erin “she’s getting away” O’Dea knows two things. She hates authority. And… Nope, that’s it. When she’s forced to operate on the “right” side of the law, her fear of being confined and controlled blazes to the surface. The last thing she expects is a control freak like Connor to soothe her when she needs it most. Worse, something behind the sexy ex-soldier’s eyes ignites a dangerous inferno of desire. One that invites Erin to play with fire. And one that could get them both killed…

 

As if her thoughts had made him appear, Connor strode into the courthouse. Her pulse started beating double time, her stomach muscles tightening. Good Lord, the man was a fucking panty dropper. She’d only been away from him for a few hours and it felt like years since she’d experienced his presence. In jeans and a fitted gray T-shirt that molded to his muscles like her hands itched to do, he personified confidence and authority. Hot, rugged male. His gaze connected with hers immediately and darkened.

She thought back to that morning when he’d dressed in the early morning light, his abs flexing as he pulled the shirt over his head. His erection barely contained by his boxers. She’d never been one to beg for anything, but she’d been seconds from offering him her mouth. Pleading for the privilege of sucking him off.

Conner shook his head at her with a sexy half smile on his face, as if he could read her thoughts across the room. He stopped at the metal detector and walked through after the security guard beckoned him forward. When the woman grabbed her wand and instructed him to raise his hands in the air, something ugly reared its head deep inside her. The detector hadn’t even beeped. There was no reason for the personal service. When the woman smiled at Connor and ran a hand down her ponytail, Erin propelled herself forward, boots echoing on the polished marble.

Erin hissed as she drew even with the guard. “If you’re done feeling up my boyfriend, I’d love a turn. We were in a rush this morning.”

The guard dropped the wand, letting it dangle near her thigh. “Did you just hiss at me?”

Erin hissed again.

“Okay.” Connor stepped between them, winking down at her. “We should go. Don’t want to keep the clerk waiting.”

Appreciation spread in her belly like honey. He hadn’t chided her for her behavior or apologized to the woman on her behalf. Instead he’d given the impression they were on their way to get married, appeasing her jealousy in one fell swoop. “That’s right.” She sauntered toward the elevator. “There’s vows to be exchanged. Rings to put on fingers. Shit like that.”

She glanced behind her to find Connor staring at her ass as she walked, so she put a little swing in her hips and savored his groan. Damn. She’d definitely never had this much fun at a courthouse.

A moment later, she and Connor stepped into an empty elevator. She hit the button for the top floor even though the clerk was on the first, and leaned back against the wall, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “How was your morning, baby? Was it worth leaving me in bed, all hot and bothered for you?”

“Fuck no, it wasn’t.” He crooked a big finger at her. “Climb on up here.”

 

 
 Thank you for your interest in my books! I’m Tessa and I live in the crazy, loud, overcrowded borough of Brooklyn, New York. I love it here. This city is a constant source of inspiration, which is why I’ve decided to set my most recent books in the Line of Duty Series here.

I moved to New York when I was eighteen, the day after I graduated high school. Threw my suitcase in the back of a Chevrolet Cavalier and drove across the country to find my adventure. I’m still finding it, little by little.​Thank you for being a part of it.

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Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: How to Marry a Royal Highlander (The Renegade Royals #4) by Vanessa Kelly

 

How to Marry a Royal Highlander

The Renegade Royals # 4

By: Vanessa Kelly

Releasing June 30, 2015

  


 Illegitimate yet thoroughly irresistible, the Renegade Royals are leaving behind their careers as daring spies for the greatest adventure of all…

At sixteen, Alasdair Gilbride, heir to a Scottish earldom, fled the Highlands and an arranged betrothal. Ten years later, Alasdair must travel home to face his responsibilities. It’s a task that would be much easier without the distracting presence of the most enticing woman he’s ever met…

After one escapade too many, Eden Whitney has been snubbed by the ton. The solution: rusticating in the Scottish wilderness, miles from all temptation. Except, of course, for brawny, charming Alasdair. The man is so exasperating she’d likely kill him before they reach the border—if someone else weren’t trying to do just that. Now Eden and Alasdair are plunging into a scandalous affair with his life and her reputation at stake—and their hearts already irreparably lost….

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She wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re determined to cast down all my hopes, aren’t you? What good is a castle without a torture chamber?”

“Actually, there is something much better than a torture chamber. Come with me.” He held out a hand.

Edie studied him for a moment, not trusting his seductive smile. But the enticement was too great, so she joined him, and he led her to a set of stairs tucked into the corner of the room. They were very narrow and very steep and, despite her excellent new spectacles, she slipped. From behind, Gilbride clamped his big hands on her hips to steady her.

“Watch your step, love,” he murmured.

The casually uttered endearment set her heart racing. Or perhaps it was the feel of his long fingers curling around her hips, holding on to her just a fraction longer than necessary.

“Thank you,” she managed to squeak out.

She finished the climb in a rush, arriving breathless on the next level. That room was a duplicate of the room below, sans furniture, so Gilbride urged her to keep going. At the top of the staircase, there was a small door that swung open to the roof. She stuck her head out, taking in the parapet that ringed the edges of the steeply peaked roof that rose from the top of the tower.

“Are you game for a look?” Gilbride asked from just below her. She felt sure he was getting quite a good view of her bottom, since it had to be almost in his face. That thought had her going hot all over, despite the sharp breeze that set her bonnet ribbons fluttering.

She scrambled onto the roof then edged away to the right, giving him room to fit his large frame through the small opening. She thought for a moment that his shoulders would get stuck, but he managed to push himself through and up onto the roof.

“I don’t remember that being such a tight fit,” he said.

“I imagine you were smaller the last time you were up here. Now you’re practically a giant.”

“Hardly that, but I was a skinny lad. Tall, but thin as a beanpole. Our cook did her best to fatten me up, but nothing ever seemed to work.”

Gilbride’s body held not an ounce of extra flesh, as far as Edie could tell. “Lucky you. It was quite the opposite in our house. Mamma was forever scolding Evie and me about eating too many sweets. She was terrified we’d end up as—”

“Butterballs?”

She gave him a sheepish smile.

“I assure you, Miss Whitney, there isn’t anything on your frame that doesn’t belong there.”

That rather impudent remark was followed up by a leisurely perusal of her figure. From the appreciative look in his eyes, it seemed the compliment was sincere.

She made herself turn away from him to gaze at the view that made her almost forget that he was flirting with her again.

“It’s beautiful,” she gasped.

The tower was on a high point of land, looking down the hill. Straight below ran woods, purple heather spread out in a dazzling natural carpet. To the left, shimmering in the afternoon sunlight, was a large lake.

“Are those swans?” she asked.

“They are. There have been whooper swans on Mugdock Lake for generations.”

Edie leaned over the waist-high parapet, trying to get a better look. Gilbride snaked an arm around her middle to pull her back.

“Easy does it,” he said. “We’ve kept the tower in good repair, but the stones are very old. I don’t fancy explaining to your mother how I let you tumble off.”

The feel of his arm around her waist left her rather breathless again, so she came back in. It startled her how much she didn’t want him to let go.

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 Vanessa Kelly is an award-winning author who was named by Booklist, the review journal of the American Library Association, as one of the “New Stars of Historical Romance.” Her Regency-set historical romances have been nominated for awards in a number of contests, and her second book, Sex and The Single Earl, won the prestigious Maggie Medallion for Best Historical Romance. Her current series, The Renegade Royals is a national bestseller. Vanessa also writes USA Today bestselling contemporary romance with her husband, under the pen name of VK Sykes.

Author Links: Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads


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Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: WITNESS TO PASSION (Guarding Her Body #1) by Naima Simone

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WITNESS TO PASSION

Guarding Her Body #1

Naima Simone

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Publication Date: June 16, 2015

Entangled: Ignite

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Under his protection and in his bed…

For Fallon Wayland, birthdays are just another reminder of her looming spinsterhood. This year is shaping up to be no different. Unfairly fired from her job, dumped by her boyfriend, and oh yes, witnessing the murder of a high ranking lieutenant in the local crime family… Yeah, birthdays suck.

Ever since a disastrous, hot-as-hell kiss years ago, soldier-turned-security specialist Shane Roarke has avoided his baby sister’s reckless—and gorgeous—best friend. Yet when her life is threatened after she witnesses a gang hit, he insists on protecting her…even if she objects.

The two are forced to hole up in a safe house. Alone. Passion long denied erupts between them, burning away their inhibitions. But even as layers—and clothes—are peeled away, danger closes in. Shane and Fallon might finally have a chance at love…if they survive long enough to see it.

“Dammit, Fallon, we don’t have time—”“One,” Fallon growled, slipping out of the booth. “My name is not Dammit Fallon or Goddammit Fallon. Two, I’m going to the police. I want to speak with them about Michaels, his escape, and hear their advice on where I should go from here. You can come with me or meet me there.”

A beat of silence. “I’m coming with you. No way am I letting you out of my sight,” Shane stated, voice flat. But a tic along his jaw betrayed the emotion hidden under the ice in his tone.

She spun around and headed for the kitchen. Ten minutes later, she returned to the dining area, and the man glaring at her from near the front door with a phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah,” he said to the person on the other end. “We’re coming out.” Pause. “Police station first, then we’ll decide from there.” Another pause. “Copy that.” He ended his call, but the scowl remained firmly in place. “You ready?” he growled.

“Yes.”

Silently, he held the door open, allowing her to step out of the restaurant. She sucked in a breath and held it as he pressed in close behind her. Damn. Too late. His scent—that unique combination of fresh wind, and skin—teased her nose, setting off a chain reaction of heat, heart palpitations, and flocks of birds in her stomach. She gritted her teeth against the Pavlovian response.

He shifted beside her, his strong, firm upper arm nudging her shoulder. His unblinking, sharp gaze scanned the street and sidewalks as he settled a hand on the small of her back and guided her to the blue BMW convertible parked around the corner. Relief poured through her like a cold drink of water on a hot day. As silly as it seemed, FiFi represented the only stability in her world. The only thing that hadn’t metamorphosed into something unrecognizable or scary.

“You have your key?” Shane didn’t glance down at herhis restless survey of their surroundings continuing.

“Yes.” She pointed her key fob at the car. Several feet away, the headlights blinked once, the horn beeping twice.

“I’ll follow you—”

Shane’s words were swallowed by the huge, deafening boom from the end of the street. A fiery, blast knocked both of them off their feet. Twisting midair, he wrapped his arms and body around her. His back slammed to the concrete hard enough for him to groan in pain. But immediately, he rolled, covering her from head to toe from the heat searing the air around them.

Oh Jesus. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

FiFi.

Gone. Someone had bombed her beloved FiFi to hell and back.

She blinked, tears burning her eyes as hot as the flames licking at her car.

“—okay?”

She frowned, the ringing in her ears loud and subsiding slowly.

“Are you okay?” Shane repeated, his voice urgent, harsh.

The cold reserve had disappeared, melted by the bomb and rage blazing in his eyes. Fury hardened his features, the sculpted cheekbones, angular jaw, and carnal curves of his mouth even more pronounced under his taut skin.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered. Then lifted her head and peered over his shoulder at the flaming heap that used to be her darling FiFi. She lowered her head, stared up at the sky, and let the tears fall.

“So where did you say your safe house was?”

 

 

Ignite Prize Pack including: 3 digital Ignite titles: Make Me Up by Avery Flynn, Fighting For Keeps by Seleste deLaney and His Last Redemption by Clarissa Yip. And a set of the Secrets and Sins series in print: Gabriel, Malachim, Raphael and Chayot (Intl winners will receive Ebook substitute)

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Naima’s love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey and Linda Howard many years ago. Though her first attempt at writing a romance novel at 11 never saw the light of day, her love of romance and writing has endured. Now, she spends her time creating stories of unique men and women who experience the dizzying heights of passion and the tender heat of love. She is the wife to Superman – or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent – and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.