Monday 29 October 2018

NEW RELEASE CARDS OF LOVE JUDGEMENT by JENIKA SNOW

















I would kill for her.

Harper


The night Arsen killed my father was the first time I realized the lengths he’d go to keep me safe. He might have done it to protect me, but he was still convicted and locked away for seven years.
And for that entire time I waited for him, knowing that once he was released, things needed to be said, the truth needed to be spoken.
And that day was today.
I loved him, but the look he gave me, the possessiveness and pent-up arousal reflected in his eyes … had me realizing one thing.
Now more than ever, he wouldn’t let me go.

Arsen

I went to prison for Harper, and I’d do it all over again to make sure she was safe. She was all I thought about the entire time I was behind bars, and it was her weekly visits that got me through the years, even if I tried pushing her away.
But after seven years of being locked up, I was finally released … and I was going to make her mine.

Warning: This is a short, dirty story about a hero who will go to any lengths to make sure the woman he loves is safe. With darker undertones and graphic scenes, there may be material some readers find offensive.


Harper

I’d thought about this moment plenty of times, fantasized about how it would be to finally have Arsen to myself. It would be passionate, consuming … filthy. It would take my breath away and leave me a shaking mess.
I knew this because when I looked at Arsen, that’s how I felt. He didn’t even have to touch me, didn’t have to say one word. Just a look in my direction and my knees threatened to buckle, my heart racing … my pussy becoming wet.
So I knew being with him in this way, sexually, possessively … intensely, would be mind-numbing.
And it was.
It is.
I was on the bed, totally naked, my legs spread, and Arsen staring at me like he was barely hanging on to his control.
I knew the feeling.
We were both naked, and as much as I knew we should take things slow, savor this, I knew it wouldn’t go down that way.
I didn’t want it to.
My throat was tight, my mouth dry.
Every hard ridge, dip, and bulge of his muscles was shown in startling clarity, and my heart jackknifed behind my ribs. Arsen was big and muscular, far larger than what he’d been before going to prison. He looked like a man now, hard edges and a fierce composure.
And his tattoos … far more than he’d had before going into prison. They were dangerous, frightening, and even aggressive in their appearance.
And they turned me on even more.
So much strength it made me breathless.
“Harper,” he whispered in this gruff voice, pitched low, deadly. “I want to make this good for you, baby.”
“Don’t hold back.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t want easy or gentle. I just want you.”
I was wet, almost embarrassingly so.
He moved back enough that I could see the long, hard, impressive length of his shaft.
He had a dark line of hair that started right below his belly button and continued its downward path to his cock.
My mouth dried at the size of him.
The thought came to mind that he was so thick and long I didn’t know if he’d fit comfortably inside of me. It was a ludicrous thought, because I knew I was made for him, built for whatever he had to give me. But I didn’t care, because I’d take every last inch of him.
“Harper, baby girl, I’m hanging onto a thread here, and you staring at my dick isn’t helping my self-control.” His voice was sharp, like a serrated blade running across my naked body.
I shivered in response and lifted my gaze to look into his face.
His eyes were half-closed, his head lowered. Arsen looked feral, which matched his outward appearance to a T. He reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking the thick, long length obscenely. “You want this?”
“God,” I whispered, that lone word leaving me. “Yes.” I stared into his darkened eyes again, seeing my beautiful monster standing before me, ready to claim me. “Come here. Take me.”




Jenika Snow, a USA Today bestselling author, lives in the northeast with her husband and their children.
She prefers gloomy days, eats the topping off of her pizza first, and prefers to wear socks year round.



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NEW RELEASE ROOM 666 (THE LAST RESORT MOTEL) by GERI GLENN

Title: The Last Resort Motel: Room 666
Author: Geri Glenn
Genre: Romance Thriller
Release Date: October 23, 2018
Unappreciated. Lonely. Betrayed.
Shelby Sanders’ life had never been much to brag about. An alcoholic mother, a rusty old trailer, and not a hope in the world to change any of it for something better.
That’s why she left. That’s how she ended up at the Last Resort Motel. And that’s how she finds herself on the set of one of TVs hottest paranormal investigation shows.
Garrett is the host of Paranormal 911. He’s hot, broody and as protective as he is standoffish. He invited her along to that ghost town with a cocky smile and a kiss that made her heart stutter. But neither of them ever dreamed something would follow them home. Something evil. Something neither of them can see.
Now Shelby’s in real danger and Garret can only pray he knows how to save her before she ends up dead. Or worse.
You Can't Resista Dirty Book Review
 Spooky goings on in this fantastic paranormal romance short story by Geri Glenn. For me Geri is more well known for the MC romance being a lover of the Kings of Korruption series but boy oh boy does she cross genres well! 

I am a huge fan of the TV show Supernatural and if that is the case for yourself then this tale will be right up your alley.  A budding romance blooms between Shelby and Garrett. Shelby has had enough of dealing with her neglectful and selfish mother, she sets out to start her new life and falls into the path of Garrett and his team when they are on their way to film a deserted town known for its unexpected happenings.

If you like your romance with a side of spine tingling, goosebumps raising ghosties then this book will satisfy your taste buds. Suspense and mystery abound this is a monster mash must read just in time for Hallowe'en!

Geri Glenn is the international best-selling author of Kings Of Korruption MC Series. 
Geri and her family just recently bought their dream home in her hometown of Brockville, Ontario, Canada. She is a military wife, the mother of two gorgeous, but slightly crazy little girls, and is a full time writer of the ultimate alpha male.
HOSTED BY:

NEW RELEASE P.S.I DARE YOU by WINTER RENSHAW















Dear Ms. Keane,

Before this ridiculous little arrangement commences, I’d like to make myself indubitably clear: I know who you are, I know that my father hired you, I know why my father hired you, and lastly, your services aren’t needed.

In fact, I want no part of my father’s billion-dollar empire, and him “gifting” me with one of the “best concierges in the county” won’t change that. He’s wasting his money. You’re wasting your time.

However, seeing as how you foolishly signed an ironclad contract with an Act of God clause and my father has strong-armed me into taking this position, it appears as though we’re stuck together—at least until your contract is up next month.

That said, our time together at WellesTech should be relatively painless but please don’t fool yourself into thinking I don’t notice when that pretty little stare lingers a little too long or the way your breath catches when our hands graze. You’re fascinated by me and it kills you because you can hardly stand to be in the same room as me.

Think I’m a problem worth solving? An impossible riddle worth figuring out? By all means, go ahead and try. Solve for X. Crack the code. It might even be fun (but only for me, not you).

V/r,

Calder Welles, II

P.S. I dare you.



What.
The fuck.
Was that?
She’s the woman my father hired? The girl who spilled her coffee down her shirt after bumping into me in the hall?
That’s fucking golden. I can’t even be mad right now.
It makes perfect sense.
He brought on an assistant who happens to have all of the qualities he thinks I lack. She’s civil, tactful, punctual, classy as fuck.
I bet he thinks she’s going to be a good influence on me, like she can fucking domesticate me and turn me into a Corporate American civil servant.
Poor thing. She doesn’t realize she stepped inside the lion’s ring with nothing but a flimsy whip and a barstool. I’m not that easily tamed.
Regardless, I don’t know her name, but already I’m impressed. She’s not afraid to stand up for herself. I like that. If she’d given me a chance to explain, I’d have told her that’s what I meant when I said she was exactly my type.
I’m not a moron. I know she didn’t think I was flirting with her. I know she didn’t come back over because she wanted me. Quite the opposite. I saw the contention in that caramel-brown gaze of hers.
I also sensed a very raw, very real mutual attraction brewing—and that’s why I called it like it was and referred to her as a snack.
It was for the best.
I didn’t come here tonight to get laid. I’ve got bigger, more important things on my mind.
I watch the pretty little brunette with the black sweater grab her bag from her booth and storm out of the bar, her blonde friend in tow, and I toss back the rest of my Hennessy in one swallow.
Slapping some cash on the table, I take off and head back home, this time opting to walk.
Fresh air.
Deep thoughts.
A strong drink coursing through my veins.
If I’m lucky, these things plus a good night's sleep will work together, helping me come to terms with what I’ve got to do in the morning.
Making my way through a crosswalk, I pass one of those sickeningly sweet couples walking hand-in-hand with that new-in-love look in their shiny eyes.
That kind of thing has never appealed to me, and if I’m being honest, a long-term relationship baked in exclusivity seems like a prison sentence. Who the hell wants someone they have to report to? Someone who has to know where they are at all times? Someone who expects them to be there when they call? Someone who has access to every aspect of their life?
It’s Bridgeforth Academy all over again, only the relationship version.
Pass.




Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.

And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j


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Thursday 25 October 2018

COVER REVEAL DARKNESS EMBRACED (HADES HANGMAN #7) by TILLIE COLE









“There was him, Tanner Ayers, the White Prince of the Ku Klux Klan. And me, Adelita Quintana, Princesa of the Quintana Cartel. I hated him. He hated me… things only got complicated when that hatred turned into more… when that hatred turned into love.”







Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.


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NEW RELEASE THE SOUND OF HOME by KRISTA SANDOR





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One steamy summer night. One unforgivable betrayal. Two lives forever changed.
Em MacCaslin was never an ordinary girl. A child music prodigy, she competed in elite competitions and performed with symphonies all over the world. At eighteen years old, her future couldn’t have been brighter. But all her dreams were shattered in one night.
A night she doesn’t remember.
After twelve years of running from the past, she’s back in Langley Park. And she wants answers.
Sparks fly and passions ignite when the man who betrayed her trust offers to help uncover the events of that fateful night.
But not everyone wants Em to learn the truth. A truth with the potential to kill.
The Sound of Home is a sexy standalone romance in the Langley Park series.






Em smoothed out the pleats of her skirt, and Michael bit back a chuckle. While most of the girls at the party were wearing cut-off jean shorts and tank tops, leaving little to the imagination, Em had on a plaid skirt, a short-sleeved cardigan, and a string of pearls.
Fucking pearls.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, attempting to look incredulous.
“You wore pearls to a Sadie’s Hollow party,” he answered. He’d never thought pearls and plaid were sexy before tonight.
“I’ll have you know,” she raised her index finger, “that tonight I helped raise quite a bit of money for the Kansas City Symphony. Like big-time dollars.”
Jesus, she was an adorable drunk. “You did, did you?”
“I most certainly did,” Em replied, coming to her feet and pretending to play an air violin.
“What did you play?” he asked, unable to hold back a grin.
She closed her eyes and began to bow with her right hand. “Just Paganini. Nel cor piu non mi sento.”
“Oh, yeah, just Niccolò Paganini’s most difficult composition, and arguably one of the most technically challenging pieces ever written?”
She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “Just that.”
Holy shit, she was stunning.
“Could you lose the air-violin for a minute and sit back down. I’d hate to see you fall on your ass again.”
“I almost fell on my bottom. Thankfully, Kyle Benson was there to catch me,” Em replied and settled herself on the rock.
“You can say ass, Em. Nobody will hear you.”
“I know.”
“Then say it. Your dad’s not here.”
She twisted her pearls.
“You can’t do it, can you? Once a good girl, always a good girl.”
“Hey,” Em said, grabbing his hand. Her touch sent a rush of electricity surging from the point of contact. “Do you remember when we played “Heart and Soul” on the piano back when we were in kindergarten?”
“How could I forget? Your dad let us stay up late and watch Big. You lost your mind watching Tom Hanks and that old dude jump around on the giant keyboard.”
“Do you remember your part?” she asked, her face hopeful and glowing creamy white in the moonlight.
Sweet Christ, she was beautiful. When the hell did that happen?
Michael tried to push any sexual thoughts from his mind. He had to remind his twitching cock that nothing could happen with Em.
He released a breath. “I could knock out my part if I had to.”
“Let’s do it,” she said, then turned toward the long, smooth boulder.
Em positioned her hands on the rock as if it were a piano. She gestured with her chin for him to do the same. “Ready, and…” she said, and began to play. She watched him with a furrowed brow as he pretend-played alongside her. “You’re doing it wrong. The notes are more staccato.”
“Em, we’re playing on a fucking rock. How can you even tell?”
“I just know, Michael. It’s like the music talks to me, like it lives inside of me. It’s always been with me.”
He nodded. Fuck, he could get lost in her eyes. Did she still wear those little cotton panties, the ones with tiny flowers, like she did when she was just a girl?
Enough, MacCarron!
He mentally punched himself in the mouth. Of course, she didn’t. She wasn’t eight. She was eighteen, a woman. The little girl he used to play piano duets and flashlight tag with had grown up.
Em nudged him with her shoulder. “Put your hand on top of mine. Then you’ll be able to feel how the notes were meant to be played.”
He draped his large hand over hers. For a second, he thought Em trembled, but then she began to play. As her fingers danced across the imaginary piano keys, Michael felt each note and could hear the music almost as if he was inside her, connected to her.
“See, if you played each note with a bit more—”
He silenced her with a kiss. Her body tensed. He pulled back a fraction, allowing his teeth to nip at her bottom lip. The contact made his head swim. Her lips parted, and he deepened the kiss. She sighed into his mouth, her breaths becoming shallow. If kissing Em was the last thing he would ever do, he would die a happy man. But he wanted more. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and caressed her in a hot, desperate rhythm, begging her to match his intensity.
Em was sweet. So fucking sweet. He tasted the raspberry punch on her tongue, but it had an edge to it. She must have been drinking something before the punch, something spicy like whiskey or rum. The two flavors assaulted his senses and teased his cock. He knew Em MacCaslin was innocent, everyone did. But the intensity of this kiss told him there was something deeper, something darker inside her even she didn’t know existed.
Then it hit him. He was kissing Mary Michelle MacCaslin.
Jesus, what was he doing?
His second-guessing ended when she whispered his name, her voice hungry with need.
“Oh, Michael.”
Em spoke not only to his cock, which was begging for release like a bull in a bucking chute, but to his soul. When she guided his hand across the pretend piano keys, an almost spiritual awakening burst inside him, like standing at the crossroads of a tornado and a tidal wave.
He lifted his hand from where it rested on top of hers and slid his fingertips up the length of her arm. He trailed them across her shoulder and found the string of pearls resting around her neck. Slowly, he wrapped the delicate necklace around his fingers and pulled her in closer. Each time he twisted another segment, Em gasped as if she was moving closer and closer toward something her body never knew it wanted and could no longer deny.

L
















If there’s one thing Krista Sandor knows for sure, it’s that romance saved her. After she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2015, her world turned upside down. During those difficult first days, her dear friend sent her a romance novel. That kind gesture provided the escape she needed and ignited her love of the genre. Inspired by the strong heroines and happily ever afters, Krista decided to write her own romance series. Today, she is an MS Warrior and living life to the fullest. When she’s not writing, you can find her running 5Ks and chasing after her growing boys in her adopted home of Denver, Colorado.