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Monday, February 29, 2016

NEW RELEASE | With Ties That Bind by Trisha Wolfe | Giveaway




WITH TIES THAT BIND (Broken Bonds #1)
by Trisha Wolfe
Published: February 29th, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark, Erotica, Suspense, Romance
Purchase: Amazon | B&NiTunes | Google Play
This series is a spinoff of the Broken Bonds serial which must be read prior to beginning this first book. Contains spoilers to the Broken Bonds serial.

Detective Ethan Quinn has questions. The Arlington Slasher case is closed, the UNSUB no longer a threat—but Quinn can’t quiet the suspicion he harbors toward his partner and the young, attractive M.E. Not only does he loathe his uncertainty, he’s torn between doing his job and protecting his team.

But burying himself in cases no longer works. He’s restless. On edge. And tired of fighting his compulsions. Quinn has always viewed the law in black and white. Only now his world is swirling with a murky gray that threatens to devour him.

When lead medical examiner Avery Johnson careens toward a dangerous path, she pulls the unwitting detective into a dark web of deception and lust, triggered by a spree of recent killings.

Is this new player linked to the Bathory murders, or is it another copycat?

Time almost took Avery from him once before. As the clock ticks, Quinn will stop at nothing to protect her, refusing to let Avery become a victim again. Against his uncompromising logic, Quinn can’t deny his feelings. Avery forces him to acknowledge his darker desires, tempting his control—which weakens with every second he spends with the feisty M.E. as they hunt down the perpetrator threatening to tear them apart.

Catch Up with the first Broken Bonds serial: With Visions of Red - the first book is FREE!






Avery

The windowless room is freezing. Florescent lights hum, echoing off the cinderblock walls and tingeing the too bright, barren room in a sickly green hue. As soon as I was ushered inside, the bag was removed from my head and my lab coat was taken.

The thin blouse I’m left with does nothing to shield me from the frigid air.

I rub my arms to generate heat, giving myself something to concentrate on besides counting the seconds. I’ve only been locked inside for minutes, but panic threatens to pull me under when I imagine it turning into days.

So very different than before, but somehow just as frightening. I’m not shackled. I’m not drugged. I don’t, logically, think these people have the same intentions as my abductor did when he took me…but I can’t say that for certain.

As soon as I think I’m going to lose it and start banging on the steel door, I hear a click, and the door grinds open against the floor.

The man entering is tall and thickly built. He wears a mask. A Jason mask like on the horror movie. And he’s carrying a semiautomatic gun. My stomach plunges, free-fall. I want the bag back over my head.

He jerks his head. “Move. It’s ready.”

What’s ready? But I can’t work up the courage to ask. This man is not manhandling me, and somehow my feet move me in that direction. I’ve just simply lost my mind. So many days spent fearing the world after I was released from the hospital, and what I dreaded could happen—that which I told myself over and over would never happen again—has, in fact, happened.

What else is there left to fear?

Death?

I’m almost relieved. Like I’m ready to welcome it. Like I can stop dreading it now.

The masked man stands in the doorway as I cross through. My eyes go wide when I see what’s on the other side of the room.

A lab.

But unlike any lab I’ve ever worked in. It’s dirty, and smells of death. Not like the death in the morgue, where I’m accustomed to being surrounded by bodies. But a grotesque, sour stench that soaks my pores.

Tables are full of beakers and test tubes. A giant syringe station is setup with thin blue hoses curling down into a large tub. My gaze follows the tubes’ path along the back wall to a large containment unit.

“Welcome, Dr. Johnson.”

I whirl around, trying to locate the source of the deep, gravely voice. Feedback pierces the air, and I look up to find a speaker in the corner.

The voice booms through the room again. “Go ahead. Get comfortable. There’s a coat on the hanger to your left, and goggles on the table.”

I shake my head. “What do you want from me?” I say to the room, hoping this unsettling PA system is two-way.

“It’s what we both want,” the voice responds. “I believe neither of us want any more dead girls littering up our beautiful streets. So you should get to work.”

I turn around and see the man with the gun standing watch at the only exit.

I face forward, lick my lips. “And if I can’t?”

The silence stretches out, endlessly taunting. I’m sure the decision to end my life has already been made. Then: “I really don’t think that’s an option for you, Miss Johnson.” A beat. “Best focus on the task at hand. You have one hour.”




Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter | Amazon

From an early age, Trisha Wolfe dreamed up fantasy worlds and characters and was accused of talking to herself. Today, she lives in South Carolina with her family and writes full time, using her fantasy worlds as an excuse to continue talking to herself.


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NEW RELEASE | Sticks by T. Gephart | Giveaway




STICKS (Black Addiction #2)
by T. Gephart
Published: February 28th, 2016
Genres: Contemporary, Romance
Purchase: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes
Kenzie Clark had made plenty of mistakes. Who cared? Life was all about the journey, and if you couldn’t enjoy the ride then what was the point. The tough-talking guitarist from Brooklyn, NY worked hard so she could play even harder. But some mistakes weren’t so easy to walk away from. Joey Shaw, drummer for Black Addiction, was exactly that kind of a mistake.

How could one night of fun turn into a life long commitment? That’s exactly what Joey was asking himself when Kenzie showed up a few weeks later—the soon-to-be baby bump with his name written all over it. He could barely tie his shoes; how in the hell was he going to raise a kid?

With neither of them ready to become parents, it was always going to be a difficult, but there was no way either of them were walking away. Come hell or high water, they were having this baby—together.

Hopefully they would both be still standing by the birth.









Prologue - Kenzie

Oh. Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

F. U. C. K.

That’s exactly what should be displayed in the window of that plastic contraption shaking in my hand instead of that obnoxious plus sign. The bright blue horizontal and vertical line against a stark white background. Taunting me as I stood there hoping it was some cruel optical illusion.

But it wasn’t.

Oh my God, I was going to be sick.

My head spun as I sunk to my ass on the cold tile floor. The stick that ten minutes ago had been so innocent and harmless was still in my hand as I struggled not to hyperventilate. This couldn’t be happening.

I was pregnant.

As waves of nausea rolled through my body—something I’d been experiencing a lot lately—my brain tried to reconcile my new reality. My life as I knew it was well and truly over.

I am going to be someone’s mother.

My hand had barely managed to lift the lid of the toilet as I lost my battle with my stomach. The full body heave expelled not only my breakfast but also my soul into the bowl as the evil EPT wand fell out of my hand and onto the floor. My future—as well as my blueberry bagel—now in the toilet.

I had done a lot of stupid stuff in my time. I’ll be the first to admit that, but Joey Shaw was by far the dumbest.

Unlike most of the girls he seemed to entertain, I’d known Joey for years. Our bands had crossed paths from time to time on the bar circuit, even sharing the stage once or twice. The appreciation we had for each other was mutual, both professionally and otherwise. He was good looking, sexy and had a body built for sin. It was only a matter of time before we ended up doing the in-between-the-sheets tango; I was impressed at how long I’d resisted.

Driven by hormones instead of brains, our little game of flirting came to a very lustful, sexy conclusion last month. That mouth of his wasn’t only talking up a good show, with every single egotistical boast coming out of it not even close to the mind-blowing orgasm he’d given me. His body absolutely delivered on the promise of crazy and unrestrained sex. It had been a night that wasn’t going to be easy to forget. Now it seemed, he had gifted me a permanent reminder.

Fuck.

I was so screwed.

We had barely even spoken since our hook-up, happy for it to be a casual thing between friends. It’s not like I was looking to date him. Ha. Not in this lifetime. I wasn’t that delusional. The man was hot. Not denying that, but I’d had longer relationships with a pizza than Joey had with women. So, I was happy to collect on the toe-curling sex without the side order of is-he-ever-going-to-call-me-again. God damn it. How could I have been so freaking stupid?

Ugh. My stomach churned again as my brain rationalized spending most of the day locked in my bathroom. It seemed like a solid idea, one that would see me postpone the what-the-hell-did-I-do-now that was begging to be dealt with. Ha! As if.

This year had started out with so much promise. The band was doing great. While no record deals had come our way, our song had gotten thousands of hits on YouTube. And there wasn’t a Saturday night where we didn’t play. Not just dive bars but actually great gigs. We were even making decent money too. Life was pretty awesome. Was. Past tense. Now, of course, I was a few months away from hawking my six-string at PawnRUs and getting a day job at Denny’s.

Poor Joey.

The sexy six-foot, dark-haired drummer had no idea that our baby was going to be the first and last child he would father, his balls soon to be hanging from my rearview mirror. I’d be sure to inform him and offer my condolences when I ripped them from his still-breathing body. His dick also at risk of ending up a hood ornament. It was only fair seeing as my body would be waving its red flag of rebellion in the coming months that his should suffer too. Might as well wear my skinny jeans while they still fit me, lord knows I was going to be rocking elastic waistbands and stretchy pants in the very near future. My wardrobe, the least of my worries.

Huh. I was going to have a baby. My hand unconsciously brushed against my flat-for-now belly, the life its dumbass parents created growing inside of me despite my lack of a clue. A missed period and some wicked fatigue the only hint that something was amiss. And in an instant, it had all changed. Knocked up, sitting on my bathroom floor with my head down a toilet, and I had absolutely no idea of how I was going to be someone’s mom.

Inside of me there was a tiny life. A little helpless human who needed my love and protection, who hadn’t asked to be born but had been put there nonetheless. Trusting that I would keep him or her safe until he or she was ready to enter into the world. My baby. Mine.

Great. Now my eyes were leaking. The fucking body rebellion I had expected months from now had already started as tears streamed uncontrollably.

What the hell was happening to me? I wasn’t one of those emotional girls who wept when they lost their favorite purse. I played in a rock band for God’s sake; I didn’t do crying. It was Joey’s fault. Yes. Let’s blame that asshole and his potent freaking sperm. He was the reason I had apparently lost my mind and would soon have a full uterus. And now I was back to being mad again.

Awesome.

This was so going to be fun.

Oh, please let me not kill him.




Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

T Gephart is an indie author from Melbourne, Australia.

T’s approach to life has been somewhat unconventional. Rather than going to University, she jumped on a plane to Los Angeles, USA in search of adventure. While this first trip left her somewhat underwhelmed and largely depleted of funds it fueled her appetite for travel and life experience.

With a rather eclectic resume, which reads more like the fiction she writes than an actual employment history, T struggled to find her niche in the world.

While on a subsequent trip the United States in 1999, T met and married her husband. Their whirlwind courtship and interesting impromptu convenience store wedding set the tone for their life together, which is anything but ordinary. They have lived in Louisiana, Guam and Australia and have traveled extensively throughout the US. T has two beautiful young children and one four legged child, Woodley, the wonder dog.

An avid reader, T became increasingly frustrated by the lack of strong female characters in the books she was reading. She wanted to read about a woman she could identify with, someone strong, independent and confident and who didn’t lack femininity. Out of this need, she decided to pen her first book, A Twist of Fate. T set herself the challenge to write something that was interesting, compelling and yet easy enough to read that was still enjoyable. Pulling from her own past “colorful” experiences and the amazing personalities she has surrounded herself with, she had no shortage of inspiration. With a strong slant on erotic fiction, her core characters are empowered women who don’t have to sacrifice their femininity. She enjoyed the process so much that when it was over she couldn’t let it go.

T loves to travel, laugh and surround herself with colorful characters. This inevitably spills into her writing and makes for an interesting journey - she is well and truly enjoying the ride!

Based on her life experiences, T has plenty of material for her books and has a wealth of ideas to keep you all enthralled.


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Cover Reveal | Painting Sky by Rita Branches | Giveaway

PAINTING SKY
by Rita Branches
Expected Publication: April 25th, 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Contemporary
Nobody ever said life was easy...

People pleaser, Jane Skylar wants nothing more than to earn her art degree, start her life, and bask in the bliss of living with her boyfriend.

But things don't always go as planned...

Struggling with her creative side, Jane finds herself in turmoil, often confiding in her roommate - another, more talented art student, Keith Hale. Keith just so happens to be her boyfriend's older, brooding brother. After a devastating breakup, Jane turns to Keith for comfort. But when the lines blur between roommate and lover, Jane's life becomes more complicated than ever before.

When Keith's past comes back to haunt him, their lives all get turned upside down, forcing the truth to surface. Now Jane must fight for what she wants--even if it hurts everyone she loves.


Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Rita Branches is an independent YA (young adult) author who enjoys spending every free moment (when she´s not reading) writing emotional stories.


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Book Blitz | Submission Specialist by Ada Scott | Giveaway




SUBMISSION SPECIALIST (Still a Bad Boy #2)
by Ada Scott
Published: February 26th, 2016
Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense, Sports
Purchase: Amazon | B&N
Instead of Prince Charming, I got Him.

Skylar

I promised I’d save myself for my wedding night.

Of course, I didn’t know it was going to be a fake marriage to a heavyweight MMA fighter. I couldn’t have known how good it would feel to be pinned under all those muscles and tattoos, squirming, panting, and even whimpering in ecstasy.

None of us knew how deeply he was involved with the mafia.

When he disrespects them, they think they can use me to punish him.

They’re wrong.

He’s a tank in human form.

And he’s coming for me.

Austin

Men tap out inside the ring, women surrender themselves outside of it. That’s always been my specialty.

I chose Skylar because she was so innocent. A good girl like her would help sell my reformed image to the public. To corrupt her and leave her ruined for all other men would be my hottest conquest yet.

But I found more in Skylar than that. Who’d have thought that the first woman I wanted to lay more than once would be my wife?

Now they think they can take away what is mine?

Even if I have to kill every last member of the Bertolini Crime Family…

I’m coming for her.








I felt like I was sitting inside my own head watching a movie play out as I dropped the remains of my apple in the trash and headed towards the Tier-1 fighters’ area. Uncle Malcolm wasn’t here to show me what to do. All I had was less than a year of study and a general appreciation of massages to rely on. It would have to do.

The Tier-1 wing had a guard at the door who looked mean enough to actually fight for NHBFC, but he let me through when he saw my uniform and heard that Gordon had sent me at Henry’s request. The hallway behind said door was just as chaotic as the ones I’d just left, but for a completely different reason.

With a smaller group of fighters to look after, and an already smaller staff diminished by illness, it was the MMA groupies making the most noise over here. Clusters of some of the most stunning girls currently in the city hovered around their favorite fighters’ doors, giggling and talking loudly. It wasn’t official of course, but the guard knew only to let in the best of the best.

The intensity of their beauty only served to make me feel self-conscious, as I awkwardly nudged my way through them to Austin’s door. Most of them were taller than me and the tops they wore made absolutely sure to show off their breasts, at my eye-level, to maximum effect.

They made me feel like a potato in a diamond display case as I sheepishly knocked on the door. A few moments later an older guy, Austin’s coach, snatched the door open.

“I told you bitches he isn’t ready yet!”

“Uh, Gordon sent me? Henry said you-”

“Oh, right, yeah. He’s just in the shower-”

The groupies in earshot all squealed and started talking at once.

“You come in, he’ll be ready in a second, I’m stepping out. Lock it behind you. Which of you girls wants to do me a special favor so I put a good word in for you with The Killer?”

I squeezed past him as a chorus of “I do!” “I will” rang out behind me. One of them said “How come the cleaning lady gets to go in?” Another said, “I’ll deepthroat your-” just as the door clicked shut.

Stepping into a Tier-1 dressing room after working on the other side for so long was like stepping into first-class on an airplane after only ever flying coach. They had all the same stuff that we had, but instead of bare concrete, there was actual paint on the walls, a permanent massage table, a brand new heavy punching bag hung from the ceiling on a chain. Plenty of bells and whistles.

Steam poured out of a cracked-open door and I could hear a shower running. I walked over and paused by the door, before knocking even more tentatively than I had on the other one.

“Austin? I’m here for the-”

“I told Ross to tell you I wasn’t ready!” he yelled out.

“Uh… no I’m not… uh… I work here? Henry said you needed a massage?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be right out.”

The sound of running water stopped and I caught a flash of movement in the steamed-up mirror through the opening. Quickly, I turned and faced the other way, ashamed at the flush of excitement that came unbidden and made me bite my bottom lip without thinking about it.

After a couple minutes I felt the waft of air as the door was pulled open behind me, and turned to face him. Standing there, wearing only a towel, with beads of water dripping down his neck and torso from his hair, was fan (and my) favorite, Austin “The Killer” Aquila.

That perfectly sculpted body looked like it was made from granite by an artist with an eye for sin, then decorated with ink in designs that curled all over. His thick arms had contours that drew my eyes up to his broad shoulders, and then sent them down across his pecs and over each and every bump of his abs.

His lower abdominals formed lines that narrowed as my eyes roamed lower… lower… lower until the visual ride was abruptly cut off by the towel, which he held up by one hand.

I looked up and heard my jaw click shut when our eyes met. I only hoped I’d closed my mouth before I drooled. If I was looking at him like a piece of art, he was looking at me like a piece of food, and it took all my willpower not to find a plate to climb on to.

All heavyweights have a certain presence. It would be hard not to when you’re a tank that has briefly assumed human form, but Austin had presence that almost seemed to make the air crackle between us and around him. His eyes, they were looking at me in a way that would give my dad a stroke. That brought me partway back to reality.

“Um… over there?” I pointed at the massage table.

“You sure you work here?” he asked.

“Yeah, I… I normally work in Tier-2…”

Austin closed the distance between us and leaned down towards me. My heart tried to jump up my throat to get a better view out my mouth at all that solid muscle so close to me, and my ability to breathe be damned.

“Because, if you’re another girl that stole a uniform just to get in here… well, I’ll have to do to you what I did to her.”

A drop of water fell from his head and landed on my ear, making me flinch. The scent of soap and the faint musk of him filled my lungs as I took a deep breath to offer whatever reassurance I could.

“I promise I work here,” I squeaked.


STILL A BAD BOY (Still a Bad Boy #1)
by Ada Scott
Published: October 30th, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Erotica, Suspense
Purchase: Amazon | B&N
I can’t get him out of my mind, and I can’t keep myself out of his bed.

Kendall

He wasn’t supposed to notice me. Jace Barlow: the most powerful man in the city. Mysterious, scarred, pure muscle and tattoos.

He was my first. That didn’t stop him from pinning me against a wall, using me for his own pleasure until I screamed his name.

Now my boss thinks I’m getting the scoop of the century, but all Jace is giving me is climax after leg-quivering climax. When he puts his hand on my throat and growls in my ear…

“You are mine.”

I know it’s true.

I’ve fallen hard and I’ve never felt safer…

Until I see him kill somebody.

Jace

I dedicated my life to taking down the Picolli Crime Family from the inside. I made a name for myself, the mafia’s most brutal enforcer. I worked my way up the chain, and my revenge came. A righteous bloodbath.

Then I took their place so they could never come back.

Nothing else has ever mattered. Until Kendall.

She was an innocent girl for me to defile, and then leave her ruined for other men like all the rest. But she makes me so hard I ache for release, and for the first time in my life, I want to have her again.

Kendall’s the chink in my armor my enemies have been looking for.

I don’t care.

She is mine and I’ll die before I give her up.


Author Links: Website | Facebook | Goodreads

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A former office drone, a former nurse, I now spend every waking moment doing what I love, creating and publishing these steamy stories about bad boys from the mafia, motorcycle clubs, and mma that make me, and hopefully you, weak at the knees! Anywhere a bad boy can be found, I'll be there taking notes and making it even sexier :)


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