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Bohemian in Thought and Deed . . .

Monthly Archives: January 2016

Cover Reveal: P. S…You’re Mine by Alexa Riley


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Add this to your goodreads shelf now. You know you want to.

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– SYNOPSIS –

 

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Katie Lovely signs up her class for a project, writing letters to Marines serving overseas, but a calculation error means she has to participate along with the class.

She isn’t prepared for what happens after she gets the first letter.

Sergeant Major Mark Gunner is serving his last tour and looking forward to getting out of the Marines. When he gets a letter that captures his heart, everything suddenly changes.

Their worlds connect and letters flow, creating a love unlike any other.

But when their time is up and the letters stop, will his claim remain?

 

Warning: This is a super quick, sweet, and dirty read with a small Valentine twist. *whispers* Don’t worry, it’s a happily ever after!

 

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– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –

 

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Alexa Riley is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.

They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!

– AUTHOR LINKS –

Twitter  Facebook Website  Goodreads  Amazon Page  Instagram

 

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Cover Reveal: Dazzled by Jane Harvey-Berrick

 

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We are delighted to bring you the beautiful new cover for

Dazzled by Jane Harvey-Berrick.

Are you ready?

 

 

– SYNOPSIS –

 

 

 

DazzledFORWEB.jpgMiles Stephens is a young actor from London. Out of work, unemployable, and fired from his last job, he unexpectedly gets the chance to star in a big-time Hollywood movie.

The film is a great success, propelling him to worldwide fame – but when the dream doesn’t match the reality, he turns to Clare, lifelong friend and girl next door.

Clare knows two important facts:

  1. When you break chocolate, the calories fall out…

  2. And that she’s totally in love with clueless Miles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

– EXCERPT –

 

Miles

“What’s an infrared fat wrap?” I wondered, out loud.

Honey, Personal Assistant, sighed theatrically, then winked. “Watch and learn, grasshopper.”

“Yes, Honey Scholes calling on behalf of my client Miles Stephens. No, you will not put me on hold—I want to speak to Wendy immediately about the Dazzled premiere, so you will not make me look an asshole, got that?”

She was put through instantly.

Damn.

After a quick word of explanation to Wendy, she passed me the phone.

“Yeah, hi Wendy. I need an evening dress for the premiere, well, not for me, for a friend. You met her that first time … I … um…”

Don’t remind her of that, you dick!

“Ah, the young lady who was with you? The British girl?”

“Yeah, yeah, my friend Clare.”

“And what size is your friend?”

“Fu … I mean, I’m not really sure … uh, a British size 14 I’d guess. I don’t know what that is in American…” I glanced desperately at Honey.

“Ten to 12,” she whispered.

“Yeah, um, ten to 12.”

“I see. Yes, well, it’s rather short notice for such an unusually large sizing, but I’m sure Miss Da Silva can accommodate your request. There’s an Alexander McQueen that might do?”

“Yeah, whatever you think. Just not yellow—she’ll look like Big Bird.”

Oh, shit! I’d spoken without connecting my mouth to my brain. Thankfully, Wendy just coughed to cover up her laughter.

“Of course, Mr. Stephens. Not yellow.”

“Great, thanks. Um, do I need to come and pick it up or…?”

Honey rolled her eyes at me.

“No, Mr. Stephens,” Wendy answered, patiently. “We’ll send it with a couple of alternatives. Do you need one of our dressers, too? If you could let me know the name of your friend’s hotel?”

“No, I mean, she’s staying at my place. I can help her dress. I mean, um…”

There was a long pause and I cringed, realizing how that sounded. But Wendy was too professional to comment.

When we finished, I handed the phone back to Honey and dropped my head into my hands.

“I really suck at this.”

She patted my shoulder sympathetically.

“It gets easier, Miles, but this brand of crazy isn’t for everyone.”

 

– BUY THE BOOK –

 

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  

 

Free on Kindle Unlimited

 

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– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –

 

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to write. Perhaps it was growing up in a village well known for its mystery and folklore, which sparked my imagination as a child.

I enjoy writing in several different genres, and I’ve just published my first romcom, ‘Dazzled’.

All my books have a little me in them, and I’m inspired by the personal stories of those around me. It’s often from a simple discussion overheard in the train (‘Exposure’), in a café, or in the street, where ideas for characters or scenes come to me.

I fell in love with both Sam (‘The New Samurai’) and the eponymous Sebastian in ‘The Education of Sebastian’ and the sequel ‘The Education of Caroline’, and missed them desperately once I’d finished their stories. I love writing dialogue and always try to include touches of humour in the most poignant stories.

Whether you like adult romance novels, new or young adult writing, thrillers, or fantasy, I hope you’ll enjoy the journey through my stories.

– AUTHOR LINKS –

 

Web  Facebook  Twitter Amazon Page  Goodreads Instagram

 

 

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Release Day Blitz: Infinity by Shanora Williams

Infinity release

 

– SYNOPSIS –

I am going to die.

I can’t change or fix it.

It is just something that is bound to happen.

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I have fought for so long that all I want to do is give up, but I can’t because I have a sweet, devoted husband.

I have a sister, who I am deathly afraid to leave behind because I am all the family she has left.

And then there’s Maximilian Grant—the ex that I can’t seem to shake or get rid of.

I want to remain a warrior, but when what’s left of my life is tested, and my love becomes a jumbled up mess, all I can think is one heart shattering thing.

How can I leave this world peacefully knowing not only is there one man that would die for me, but two?

 

 

 

 

 

 

– EXCERPT –

 

“You’re my wife. We just got married and technically we’re still considered newly weds. Why take that all away? Why make me suffer after suffering for so many years? My parents were enough to endure. Shannon, baby, if you keep fighting anything can happen. Any kind of chance shouldn’t be taken for granted.”

His eyes are hopeful. It kills me. I can’t bear knowing that he won’t be able to let go. What’s going to happen to him when I do die? Will he give up? Keep fighting? Will he ever love again or will he wind up being an old, bitter man that doesn’t believe in the word love.

“I’m not meant to be here, Johnny.” My voice is barely a whisper. I can barely hear it myself over the machines, but I know what I said.

And, clearly, he understands as well because he sighs, shutting his eyes for a very brief moment and then popping them open again. Sitting back, John runs his hand down his face, blowing out a breath as his hands drop to his lap. “I’m not giving up on you.”

“I know,” I murmur.

He looks at me, head turning slightly. “No, I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to push me away but I won’t let it happen. You can’t. I’m here to stay, and if you believe you’re not meant to be here then I will sit right beside this bed every single day until you reach your last—” He chokes up, catching himself. Look at him. He can’t even say it. “Your last breath.”

 

– BUY THE BOOK –

 

 

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AMAZON US  AMAZON UK  AMAZON CA

 

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– INFINITY YOUTUBE TRAILER –

 

– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –

SHANORA WILLIAMS

Shanora Williams is a twenty-something that creates authentic romantic stories that, may or may not, make you question what a “Happily Ever After” truly is. After hitting the New York Times and USA Today bestsellers list at the mere age of nineteen, Shanora ventured further into the creative writing world, working even harder to create unique and memorable romances for all to enjoy.

She currently resides in Waxhaw, North Carolina and is the mother of one amazing boy, in love with her devoted man, and a sister to eleven.

When she isn’t writing, she’s spending time with her family, binge reading, or running marathons on Netflix while scarfing down anything sweet and salty. She also writes under the pen name S. Q. Williams.

 

– AUTHOR LINKS –

Web  Twitter  Facebook  Instagram Amazon Page Goodreads

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Review: Buy Me 3 by Alexa Riley

BUY ME 3

by

ALEXA RILEY

 

 

– REVIEW –

 

buy me 3Buy Me 3 is the third and final novella in Alexa Riley’s popular Mistress Auction Series.

Forty-something Las Vegas entrepreneur, Don Antonio Cortez, has spent the last three weeks stalking (via his casino’s security system) a young, lush woman known as “Peaches”.

Fresh and full of southern charm, Peaches (real name, Georgia) is a card-counting black jack player.  She’s the real deal, so to speak.

Georgia has been taking Don Cortez’s casino, The Golden Peacock, to the cleaners on a regular basis. You’d think that Don would have a major bone to pick with the woman who’s been heavily tapping his casino bank, but this being an Alexa Riley story, the only bone Don Cortez wants Peaches to pick is his and any future tapping will be between Don and Georgia’s “peach”.

A chase ensues, an auction occurs and the reader gets a big helping of peaches and cream, heavy on the vanilla.

Buy Me 3 is a standalone novella with an Alpha male, insta-love breeder storyline.  There’s also some daddy fantasy going on —by Georgia’s own observation, Don resembles a salt-and-peppered George Clooney. While the character of Georgia denies any daddy fantasy in the story, her use of “Daddy Warbucks” for Don says otherwise.

Additionally, Alexa Riley wraps up The Mistress Auction Series with the bonus story of Leo Ramsey and Samantha Levine, which this reader found to be the better of the two-story bundle.

⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1/2

These stories are written as erotica and are targeted to a specific, mature audience. They are written to entice and stimulate the adult reader — no kiddies, please.

*I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for an  honest review.*

 

– BUY THE BOOK –

 

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  

Blindsight by Adriane Leigh

BLINDSIGHT

by

ADRIANE LEIGH 

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– SYNOPSIS –

 

blindsight.jpgI want her.

She thinks I need her.

What she doesn’t know is she needs me more.

 

I’m hiring her to protect her.

To save her life.

To make her beg.

Because her big brown eyes make my d-ck pound and the thought of leaving her to the wolves makes my heart bleed. But the past is colliding with an out of focus present that’s on course to a fatal future. Unless I can beat fate at its own game.

 

 

 

 

 

*Blindsight is intended for a mature audience only due to graphic sex, violence, and language.*

 

 

 

– EXCERPT –

 

Prologue

My heart pounded in unwavering beats. I stood over him, tears rushing down my cheeks, my eyes unblinking at the slumped form sprawled across the seeping maroon concrete.

“Hunter,” I sobbed and dropped to my knees, the concrete grating the denim, soaking the blood clear through. I didn’t care. All I saw was him, because for the first time since we’d met, I couldn’t feel him.

“Hunter, please, breathe,” I whimpered and dropped my ear to his barely parted lips. The lips I’d pressed to mine tenderly, the lips that had roamed my skin and caressed my body.

“Hunter—” I choked on the words as tears rained down my cheeks, my hands and body trembling so fiercely I couldn’t focus long enough to tell if he was breathing.

I can’t feel him. He’s gone.

“Hunter,” I whispered and tried to still my misfiring heart.

“He’s dead, Erin.” A voice echoed over my shoulder and sent chills racing down my spine. No. NO. “No!” I turned to find empty pits of burnt amber assessing me.

“What did you do?” I shrieked and balled my tiny fists into the hard rock wall of the man towering over me. His hands caught my wrists with ease and halted my assault.

“Don’t fuck with me.” The familiar eyes tore into mine as I hunkered from his imposing force. His grip tightened painfully, ripping a grunt past my lips.

“No,” I moaned, ready to collapse at Hunter’s slouched form. Nothing mattered — the world ceased moving when Hunter’s heart had stopped in his chest.

“Let’s go.” John Walker hauled me from the concrete and carried me through the dark corridors of the warehouse and away from the man who’d promised he’d always protect me.

 

– BUY THE BOOK –

 

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Amazon US   Amazon UK   Amazon CA

 

 

 

– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –

 

ADRIANE LEIGH

 

Adriane Leigh was born and raised in a snowbank in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and now lives among the sand dunes of the Lake Michigan lakeshore.

She graduated with a Literature degree but never particularly enjoyed reading Shakespeare or Chaucer.

She is married to a tall, dark, and handsome guy, and plays mama to two sweet baby girls. She is a voracious reader and wishes she had more time to knit scarves to keep her warm during the arctic Michigan winters.

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– AUTHOR LINKS –

 

Twitter  Facebook Web  Goodreads  Amazon Author Page  Instagram

 

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Chapter Reveal: He Will Be My Ruin by K. A. Tucker

HE WILL BE MY RUIN

by

K. A. TUCKER

 

We are absolutely thrilled to be able to bring you the Prologue and Chapter 1 Reveal for K.A. Tucker’s HE WILL BE MY RUIN! HE WILL BE MY RUIN is a Romantic Suspense novel, published by Atria books, an Imprint of Simon & Schuster, and is set to be released February 2, 2016!

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– ABOUT THE BOOK –

 

About HE WILL BE MY RUIN:

The USA TODAY bestselling author of the Ten Tiny Breaths and Burying Water series makes her suspense debut with this sexy, heartpounding story of a young woman determined to find justice after her best friend’s death, a story pulsing with the “intense, hot, emotional” (Colleen Hoover) writing that exhilarates her legions of fans.

A woman who almost had it all . . .

On the surface, Celine Gonzalez had everything a twenty-eight-year-old woman could want: a one-bedroom apartment on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, a job that (mostly) paid the bills, and an acceptance letter to the prestigious Hollingsworth Institute of Art, where she would finally live out her dream of becoming an antiques appraiser for a major auction house. All she had worked so hard to achieve was finally within her reach. So why would she kill herself?

A man who was supposed to be her salvation . . .

Maggie Sparkes arrives in New York City to pack up what’s left of her best friend’s belongings after a suicide that has left everyone stunned. The police have deemed the evidence conclusive: Celine got into bed, downed a lethal cocktail of pills and vodka, and never woke up. But when Maggie discovers a scandalous photograph in a lock box hidden in Celine’s apartment, she begins asking questions. Questions about the man Celine fell in love with. The man she never told anyone about, not even Maggie. The man Celine believed would change her life.

Until he became her ruin.

On the hunt for evidence that will force the police to reopen the case, Maggie uncovers more than she bargained for about Celine’s private life—and inadvertently puts herself on the radar of a killer. A killer who will stop at nothing to keep his crimes undiscovered.

 

 

– EXCERPT –

 

Prologue

Maggie

December 23, 2015

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My wrists burn.

Hours of trying to break free of the rope that binds my hands behind my back have left them raw, the rough cord scrubbing away my skin and cutting into my flesh. I’m sure I’ll have unsightly scars.

Not that it will matter when I’m dead.

I resigned myself to that reality around the time that I finally let go of my bladder. Now I simply lie here, in a pool of urine and vomit, my teeth numb from knocking with each bump in the road, my body frozen by the cold.

Trying to ignore the darkness as I fight against the panic that consumes me. I could suffocate from the anxiety alone.

He knows that.

Now he’s exploiting it. That must be what he does—he uncovers your secrets, your fears, your flaws—and he uses them against you. He did it to Celine.

And now he’s doing it to me.

That’s why I’m in a cramped trunk, my lungs working overtime against a limited supply of oxygen while my imagination runs wild with what may be waiting for me at the end of this ride.

My racing heart ready to explode.

The car hits an especially deep pothole, rattling my bones. I’ve been trapped in here for so long. Hours. Days. I have no idea. Long enough to run through every mistake that I made.

How I trusted him, how I fell for his charm, how I believed his lies. How I made it so easy for him to do this to me.

How Celine made it so easy for him, by letting him get close.

Before he killed her.

Just like he’s going to kill me.

 

Chapter 1

Maggie

November 30, 2015

The afternoon sun beams through the narrow window, casting a warm glow over Celine’s floral comforter.

It would be inviting, only her body was found in this very bed just thirteen days ago.

“Maggie?”

“Yeah,” I respond without actually turning around, my gaze taking in the cramped bedroom before me. I’ve never been a fan of New York City and all its overpriced boroughs. Too big, too busy, too pretentious. Take this Lower East Side apartment, for example, on the third floor of a drafty building built in the 1800s, with a ladder of shaky fire escapes facing the side alley and a kitschy gelato café downstairs. It costs more per month than the average American hands the bank in mortgage payments.

And Celine adored it.

“I’m in 410 if you just . . . want to come and find me.”

I finally turn and acknowledge the building super—a chestnut-haired English guy around thirty by my guess, with a layer of scruff over his jawline and faded blue jeans—edging toward the door. Given the apartment is 475 square feet, it doesn’t take him long to reach it.

I think he gave me his name but I wasn’t listening. I’ve barely said two words since I met him in front of Celine’s apartment, armed with a stack of cardboard flats and trash bags. An orchestra of clocks that softly tick away claim that that was nearly half an hour ago. I’ve simply stood here since then, feeling the brick-exposed walls—lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and filled with the impressive collection of treasures that Celine had amassed over her twenty-eight years—closing in on me.

But now I feel the need to speak. “You were the one who let the police in?” Celine never missed work, never arrived late. That’s why, after not showing up for two days and not answering her phone or her door, her coworker finally called the cops.

The super nods.

“You saw her?”

His eyes flicker to the thin wall that divides the bedroom from the rest of the apartment—its only purpose is to allow the building’s owner to charge rent for a “one-bedroom” instead of a studio. There’s not even enough room for a door. Yes, he saw her body. “She seemed really nice,” he offers, his throat turning scratchy, shifting on his feet. He’d rather be unplugging a shit-filled toilet than be here right now. I don’t blame him. “Uh . . . So you can just slide the key through the mail slot in my door when you’re finished, if you want? I’ll be home later tonight to grab it.”

Under different circumstances, I’d find his accent charming. “I’ll be staying here for a while.”

He frowns. “You can’t—”

“Yeah, I can,” I snap, cutting his objection off. “We’re on the hook with the lease until the end of January, right? So don’t even think of telling me that I can’t.” I’m in no rush to empty this place out so some jackass landlord can rent it next month and pocket my money. Plus . . . My gaze drifts over the living room again. I just need to be in Celine’s presence for a while, even if she’s not here anymore.

“Of course. I’m just . . .” He bites his bottom lip as if to stall a snippy response. When he speaks again, his tone is back to soft. “The mattress, the bedding, it’ll all need to be replaced. I would have already pitched it for you, but I figured that it wasn’t my call to make. I pulled the blanket up to cover the mess and tried to air the place out, but . . .”

I sigh shakily, the tension making my body as taut as a wire. I’m the only jackass around here. “Right. I’m sorry.” I inhale deeply. The linen air freshener can’t completely mask the smell. Her body lay in that bed for two days.

Dead.

Decomposing.

“I’ll be fine with the couch until I can get a new mattress delivered.” It’ll be more than fine, seeing as I’ve been sleeping on a thin bedroll on a dirt floor in Ethiopia for the past three months. At least there’s running water here, and I’m not sharing the room with two other people. Or rats, hopefully.

“I can probably get a bloke in here to help me carry it out if you want,” he offers, sliding hands into his pockets as he slowly shifts backward.

“Thank you.” I couple my contrite voice with a smile and watch the young super exit, pulling the door shut behind him.

My gaze drifts back to the countless shelves. I haven’t been to visit Celine in New York in over two years; we always met in California, the state where we grew up. “My, you’ve been busy,” I whisper. Celine always did have a love for the old and discarded, and she had a real eye for it. She’d probably seen every last episode of Antiques Roadshow three times over. She was supposed to start school this past September to get her MA in art business, with plans to become an appraiser. She delayed enrollment, for some reason.

But she never told me that. I found out through her mother just last week.

Her apartment looks more like a bursting vintage shop than a place someone would live. It’s well organized at least—all her trinkets grouped effectively. Entire shelves are dedicated to elaborate teacups, others to silver tea sets, genuine hand-cut crystal glassware, ornate clocks and watches, hand-painted tiles, and so on. Little side tables hold stained-glass lamps and more clocks and her seemingly endless collection of art history books. On the few walls not lined with shelves, an eclectic mix of artwork fills the space.

Very few things in here aren’t antique or vintage. The bottles of Ketel One, Maker’s Mark, and Jägermeister lined up on a polished brass bar cart. Her computer and a stack of hardcover books, sitting on a worn wooden desk that I’d expect to find in an old elementary schoolhouse. Even the two-foot-tall artificial Christmas tree has well-aged ornaments dangling from its branches.

I wander aimlessly, my hands beginning to touch and test. A slight pull of the desk drawer finds it locked, with no key anywhere, from what I can see. I run a finger along the spine of a leather-bound edition of The Taming of the Shrew on a shelf. Not a speck of dust. Celine couldn’t stand disorder. Every single nutcracker faces out, equidistant from the next, shortest in front, tallest in back, as if she measured them with a ruler and placed them just so.

Being enclosed in this organized chaos makes me antsy. Or maybe that’s my own ultra-minimalist preferences coming out.

I sigh and drop my purse onto the couch. My phone goes next, but not before I send a text to my personal assistant, Taryn, to ask that she arrange for a firm double mattress to be delivered to Celine’s address. Then I power the phone off before she can respond with unnecessary questions. I’ve had it on silent since my plane landed in San Diego five days ago for the funeral. Even with two proficient assistants handling my organization’s affairs while I’m dealing with my best friend’s death, the stupid thing hasn’t stopped vibrating.

They can all wait for me, while I figure out where to begin here.

I know I have a lot of paperwork to get to the lawyer. All estate proceeds will eventually go to Celine’s mother, Rosa, but she doesn’t want a dime. She’s already demanded that I sell off anything I don’t want to keep for myself and use the money for one of my humanitarian efforts in her daughter’s name.

I could tell Rosa was still in shock, because she has always been a collector by nature—that’s where Celine got it from—and it surprised me that she wouldn’t want to keep at least some of her daughter’s treasures for herself. But she was adamant and I was not going to argue. I’ll just quietly pack a few things that I think would mean a lot to her and have them shipped to San Diego.

Seeing Celine’s apartment now, though, I realize that selling is going to take forever. I’m half-tempted to dump everything into boxes for charity, guesstimate the value, and write a check. But that would belittle all the evenings and weekends that Celine devoted to hunting antique shops, garage sales, and ignorant sellers for her next perfect treasure.

My attention lands on the raw wood plank shelf that floats over a mauve suede couch, banked by silky curtains and covered with an eclectic mix of gilded frames filled with pictures from Celine’s childhood. Most of them are of her and her mom. Some are of just her. Four include me.

I smile as I ease one down, of Celine and me at the San Diego Zoo. I was twelve, she was eleven. Even then she was striking, her olive skin tanned from a summer by the pool. Next to her, my pale Welsh skin always looked sickly.

I first met Celine when I was five. My mom had hired her mother, Rosa Gonzalez, as a housekeeper and nanny, offering room and board for both her and her four-year-old daughter. We had had a string of nannies come and go, my mother never satisfied with their work ethic. But Rosa came highly recommended. It’s so hard to find good help, I remember overhearing my mother say to her friends once. They applauded her generosity with Rosa, that she was not only taking in a recent immigrant from Mexico, but her child as well.

The day Celine stepped into my parents’ palatial house in La Jolla, she did so with wide brown eyes, her long hair the color of cola in braided pigtails and adorned in giant blue bows, her frilly blue-and-white dress and matching socks like something out of The Wizard of Oz. Celine would divulge to me later on that it was the only dress she owned, purchased from a thrift shop, just for this special occasion.

Rosa and Celine lived with us for ten years, and my daily routines quickly became Celine’s daily routines. The chauffeur would drop Celine off at the curb in front of the local public school on our way to my private school campus. Though her school was far above average as public schools go, I begged and pleaded for my parents to pay for Celine to attend with me. I didn’t quite understand the concept of money back then, but I knew we had a lot, and we could more than afford it.

They told me that’s just not how the world works. Besides, as much as Rosa wanted the best for her child, she was too proud to ever accept that kind of generosity. Even giving Celine my hand-me-down clothes was a constant battle.

No matter where we spent the day, though, from the time we came home to the time we fell asleep, Celine and I were inseparable. I would return from piano lessons and teach Celine how to read music notes. She’d use the other side of my art easel to paint pictures with me of the ocean view from my bedroom window. She’d rate my dives and time my laps around our pool, and I’d do the same for her. We’d lounge beneath the palm trees on hot summer days, dreaming up plans for our future. In my eyes, it was a given that Celine would always be part of my life.

We were an odd match. From our looks to our social status to our polar-opposite personalities, we couldn’t have been more different. I was captain of the debate squad and Celine played the romantic female lead in her school plays. I spearheaded a holiday charity campaign at the age of thirteen, while Celine sang in choirs for the local senior citizens. I read the Wall Street Journal and the Los Angeles Times religiously, while Celine would fall asleep with a Jane Austen novel resting across her chest.

And then one Saturday morning in July when I was fifteen, my parents announced that they had filed for divorce. I still remember the day well. They walked side-by-side toward where I lounged beside the pool, my dad dressed for a round of golf, my mom carrying a plate of Rosa’s breakfast enchiladas. They’d technically separated months earlier, and I had no idea because seeing them together had always been rare to begin with.

The house in La Jolla was going up for sale. Dad was buying a condo close to the airport, to make traveling for work easier, while Mom would be moving to Chicago, where our family’s company, Sparkes Energy, had their corporate headquarters. I’d stay wherever I wanted, when I wasn’t at the prestigious boarding school in Massachusetts that they decided I should attend for my last three years of high school.

The worst of it was that Rosa and Celine would be going their own way.

Rosa, who was more a parent to me than either of my real parents had ever been.

Celine . . . my best friend, my sister.

Both of them, gone from my daily life with two weeks’ notice.

They’re just a phone call away, my mom reasoned. That’s all I had, and so I took advantage. For years, I would call Celine and Rosa daily. I had a long-distance plan, but had I not, I still would have happily driven up my mom’s phone bill, bitter with her for abandoning me for the company. I spent Christmases and Thanksgivings with Rosa and Celine instead of choosing to spend them with Melody or William Sparkes.

To be honest, it never was much of a choice.

Through boyfriends, college, jobs, and fronting a successful nonprofit organization that has had me living all over Africa and Asia for the last six years, Celine and Rosa have remained permanent fixtures in my life.

Until thirteen days ago, when Rosa’s sobs filled my ear in a village near Nekemte, Ethiopia, where I’ve been leading a water well project and building homes. After a long, arduous day in the hot sun, my hands covered with cuts from corrugated iron and my muscles sore from carrying burned bricks, it was jarring to hear Rosa’s voice. California felt worlds away. At first I thought that I hadn’t kept myself hydrated enough and I was hallucinating. But by the third time I heard her say, “Celine killed herself,” it finally registered. It just didn’t make sense.

It still doesn’t.

Hollowness kept me company all the way back—first on buses, then a chartered flight, followed by several commercial airline connections—and into Rosa’s modest home in the suburbs of San Diego. The hollowness held me together through the emotional visitation and funeral, Rosa’s tightly knit Mexican community rocked by the news. It numbed me enough to face Rosa’s eyes, bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles, as she insisted that I come to New York to handle the material remains of her only child.

The case is all but officially closed. The police are simply waiting for the final autopsy report to confirm that a lethal dose of Xanax— the pill bottle sitting open on her nightstand was from a prescription she filled only two days prior—combined with an unhealthy amount of vodka was what killed her. They see it as a quick open-and-shut suicide case, aided by a note in her handwriting that read I’m sorry for everything, found lying next to her.

The picture frame cracks within my tightening grasp as tears burn my cheeks, and I have the overwhelming urge to smash the entire shelf of happy memories.

This just doesn’t seem possible. How could she do this to her mother? I shift my focus to the picture of Rosa—a petite brunette with a fierce heart, who gives hugs to strangers who look like they’re having a bad day and spouts a string of passionate Spanish when anyone tries to leave the dinner table before every last bite is finished.

Before this past week, I hadn’t seen Rosa since last Christmas. She still looks frail eleven months after the doctors told her that the double mastectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation had worked and she was considered in remission. It’ll be a year in January since the day Celine phoned me to give me the good news: that Rosa had fought breast cancer hard. And had won.

So why the hell would Celine make her suffer so horribly now?

I roam aimlessly through the rest of the apartment, in a state of extreme exhaustion after days of travel and jet lag and tears, taking in everything that remains of my childhood friend.

But there are things here that surprise me, too—a closet full of designer-label dresses that Celine couldn’t possibly have afforded on an administrative assistant’s salary, a bathroom counter overflowing with bold red lipsticks and daringly dark eye shadows that I never saw touch her naturally beautiful face, not even in recent photos.

Knowing Celine, she bought those dresses at secondhand stores. And the makeup, well . . . She would have looked beautiful with red lipstick.

I smile, sweeping the bronzer brush across my palm to leave a dusting of sparkle against my skin. I’m supposed to be this girl—the one with the extravagant clothes and makeup, who puts time and stock into looks and money. As the fourth generation of one of the biggest energy companies in the world, I will one day inherit 51 percent of the corporation’s shares. Though my parents don’t need to work, they each run a division—my industrialist father managing the ugly face of coal burning while my mother distracts the world with a pretty mask of wind and solar energy farms, hiding the fact that we’re slowly helping to destroy the world.

I grew up aware of the protests. I’ve read enough articles about the greed and the harm to the planet that comes with this industry. By the time I turned twenty-one, still young and idealistic and embroiled by the latest disgrace involving our company and an oil tanker spill off the coast of China, I wanted nothing to do with the enormous trust fund that my grandmother left me. In fact, I was one signature away from handing it all over to a charity foundation. My biggest mistake—and saving grace—was that I tried to do it through my lawyer, a loyal Sparkes Energy legal consultant. He, of course, informed my parents, who fought me on it. I wouldn’t listen to them.

But I did listen to Celine. She was the one who persuaded me not to do it in the end, sending me link after link of scandal after scandal involving charity organizations. How so little of the money ever actually reaches those in need, how so much of the money lines the pockets of individuals. She used the worst-case scenarios to steer me away from my plan because she knew it would work. Then she suggested that I use the trust fund to lead my own humanitarian ventures. I could do bigger, better things if I controlled it.

That’s when I began Villages United.

And Celine was right.

VU may only be six years old, but it has already become an internationally recognized nonprofit, focused on high-impact lending projects throughout the world geared toward building self-sustainable villages. We teach children to read and give them roofs to sleep under and clean water to drink and clothes to wear and books to read. Between my own money and the money that VU has raised, we have now left a lasting mark on thirty-six communities in countries around the world.

And I’m not just writing checks from my house in California. I’m right there in the trenches, witnessing the changes firsthand. Something my parents simply don’t understand, though they’ve tried turning it into a Sparkes Energy PR venture on more than one occasion.

I’ve refused every single time.

Because, for the first time in a long time, I’m truly proud to be Maggie Sparkes.

I haven’t even warned them about my newest endeavor—providing significant financial backing to companies that are developing viable and economical green energy solutions. VU was preparing to announce it to the media in the coming weeks. As much as I can’t think about any of that right now, I’ll have to soon. Too many people rely on me.

But for now . . . all I can focus on is Celine.

I wander into her bedroom, my back to another wall of collectibles as I stand at the foot of the ornate wrought-iron bed, the delicate bedding stretched out neatly, as if Celine made it this morning. As if she’ll be back later to share a glass of wine and a laugh.

I yank the duvet back, just long enough to see the ugly proof beneath.

To remind me that that’s never going to happen.

Edging along the side of her bed—I actually have to turn and shimmy to fit—I move toward a stack of vintage wooden food crates that serve as a nightstand. A wave of nostalgia washes over me as my finger traces the heavy latches and handmade, chunky gunmetal-gray body of the antique box sitting next to the lamp. The day that I spied it in an antique store while shopping for Celine’s sixteenth birthday, it made me think of a medieval castle. The old man who sold it to me said it was actually an eighteenth-century lockbox.

Whatever it was, I knew Celine would love it.

I carry it over to the living room, where I can sit and open it up. Inside are sentimental scraps of Celine’s life. Concert stubs and random papers, a dried rose, her grandmother’s rosary that Rosa gave to her. Rosa is supremely religious, and Celine, the ever-devoted daughter, kept up appearances for her mother, though she admitted to me that she didn’t find value in it.

I pull each item out, laying them on the trunk coffee table until I’m left with nothing but the smooth velvet floor of the box. I fumble with a small detail on the outside that acts as a lever—remembering my surprise when the man revealed the box’s secret—until a click sounds, allowing me to pry open the false bottom.

Celine’s shy, secretive eyes lit up when I first showed her the sizeable compartment. It was perfect for hiding treasures, like notes from boys, and the silver bracelet that her senior-year boyfriend bought her for Valentine’s Day and she was afraid to wear in front of Rosa. While I love Rosa dearly, she could be suffocating sometimes.

My fingers wrap around the wad of money filling the small space as a deep frown creases my forehead. Mostly hundreds but plenty of fifties, too. I quickly count it. There’s almost ten thousand dollars here.

Why wouldn’t Celine deposit this into her bank account?

I pick up the ornate bronze key and a creased sheet of paper that also sits within. I’m guessing the key is for the desk. I’ll test that out in a minute. I gingerly unfold the paper that’s obviously been handled many times, judging by the crinkles in it.

My eyes widen.

A naked man fills one side. He’s entrancingly handsome, with long lashes and golden-blond tousled hair and a shadow of peach scruff covering his hard jawline. He’s lying on his back, one muscular arm disappearing into the pillow beneath his head, a white sheet tangled around his legs, not quite covering the goods, which from what I can see, are fairly impressive. I can’t tell what color his eyes are because he’s fast asleep.

“Well then . . .” I frown, taken aback.

I’m not surprised that Celine could attract the attention of a guy like this. She was a gorgeous young woman—her Mexican roots earning her lush locks, full lips, and voluptuous curves tied to the kind of tiny waist that all men seem to admire.

Nor am I surprised that he’s blond. It has always been a running joke between us, her penchant for blonds. She’s never dated anything but.

But I am surprised that she’d have the nerve to take—and print out to keep by her bed—a scandalous picture like this in the first place.

I wonder if she ever mentioned him to me. She always told me about her dates, utter failures or otherwise. Though it’s been years since she was seeing anyone seriously, and she was definitely seeing this guy seriously if she was sleeping with him. Celine usually waited months before she gave that up to a guy. She didn’t even lose her virginity until she was twenty-two, to a guy she had been dating for six months and hoped that she would one day marry. Who broke up with her shortly afterward.

So who the hell is this guy and why didn’t I ever hear about him? And where is he now? When were they together last?

Does he know that she’s dead?

Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth—it’s a bad habit of mine—I slowly fold the paper back up. Celine’s cursive scrawl decorates the back side in purple ink. Words I hadn’t noticed before.

Words that make my heart stop now.

This man was once my salvation. Now he will be my ruin.

 

 

 

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– ABOUT THE AUTHOR -​

 

K. A. TUCKER

 

Author pic - KA Tucker
Born in small-town Ontario, K.A. Tucker published her first book at the age of six with the help of her elementary school librarian and a box of crayons. She currently resides in a quaint town outside of Toronto with her husband, two beautiful girls, and an exhausting brood of four-legged creatures.

 

 

 

 

 

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Release Day Blitz: Buy Me by Alexa Riley

BUY ME

by

ALEXA RILEY

 

– SYNOPSIS –

 

buy me 3.jpg
Antonio “Don” Cortez has been running Vegas for most of his life. After taking over the city, he’s left with a lonely life, living through his family and thinking there’s nothing more.

Peaches is looking to take Vegas for as much as she can before she skips town. She’s counting cards and raking in the money until she catches the eye of the owner of the Golden Peacock casino.

What happens when something ignites inside Don that he’s never felt before? What happens when this sassy southern belle finally meets her match?

A virginity auction…obviously!

 

 

 

Warning: Don is immediately lost to Peaches, and insta-love is afblaze. This story includes their over-the-top HEA and a bonus story at the end…the Madame of the Auction finally gets her turn. It’s a ridiculous ride, so grip those Kindles tight!

 

– EXCERPT –

 

Chapter 1 “Don”

Looking down at the computer screen, I clench my fists a little tighter. The cool glass of my desk does nothing to ease the burn running through my veins. It takes everything in me not to reach out and touch the screen.

When I hear the door to my office open, I don’t even have to look up to know who it is.

“Sir, she’s on the casino floor,” Dawson, my head of security, informs me. His tone is flat like it always is, never giving anything away. Finally pulling my eyes from the screen, I give him a nod, and he turns to leave. After he closes the door behind him, I finally break, reaching out to touch the screen and run my finger across her face.

Dawson didn’t have to tell me she’s here. I knew she was. In fact, I’ve known where she was for the past three weeks. Since the day she strolled into my casino and walked right past me without a second look, her arm locked around another man’s arm. I growl at the reminder.

For the first time in my life, jealousy surged through my body. It coursed in my veins BuyMe3-Teaser3.jpgas I followed them through the casino, needing to get closer to her. Listening to the laugh that drowned out the sounds of the rest of the casino. It was infectious and so full of life. Just like she was. She pulled attention to her as she walked, chatting away, completely unaware of me. I couldn’t make out her words until I’d gotten a little closer. Her deep southern accent hit me like a shot of something strong. It burned through my body, all the way down to the pit of my stomach, warming me from the inside out and making my dick come to life.

I knew from that moment I was in trouble. I was completely and utterly fucked. I tried to fight it, a fight I knew I was going to lose, which was something I was not accustomed to. I needed to put myself out of my misery and finally take what I needed. She was going to be a fight because I knew what she was the first night I saw her. The man she had her arm wrapped around had no idea, but I could tell. From the subtle tics of her jaw when he’d whisper in her ear, to the fake smile she gave him that he never seemed to notice. He was her bank roll. She was using him, and for some reason the idea both pissed me off and turned me on. I would enjoy her using me in any way she saw fit.

I grab my suit jacket from the back of my chair and slip it on as I make my way out of my
office. My assistant, Jen, stands, grabbing a pile of papers off her desk. Her stick-straight black hair doesn’t move as she goes to follow me to the elevator. I’m sure she wants to go down a list of items she needs to go over with me. I’m being slack at work, and it’s driving her crazy, and for the first time in my life I don’t care. I have an army of employees; they
can handle it. It’s what I pay them to do.

I hold my hand out as the elevator arrives, letting her know I’ll be taking it alone.

“Handle it,” is all I say as the elevator doors start to close. I see a scowl form on her brow, but she quickly smooths it away, replacing it with a fake irritated smile. I know she wants to say something, but she won’t. She’s already tried once, and I quickly shut her down. I’m not sure anyone could talk me off this ledge. In fact, I’m going to jump off it right now.

I make my way across the casino and head straight for the blackjack table. When I spot her, I stop a few steps back and watch her while she plays. She’s counting cards as she laughs with the table, everyone charmed by her. Her slow sweet accent seems to pull everyone in.

She keeps coming back here around every three days or so. Maybe she thinks the Golden Peacock is an easy mark, and letting her win hundreds of thousands of dollars. In truth, I’ve been on to her from the very beginning, I just didn’t care. I wanted her coming back, and I didn’t care what it cost me as she stole from my casino. Furthermore, I wanted her to be comfortable and not to feel the need to have to bring in a bank roll to hide behind, because that’s what she’d been doing that first night. I know if I see her on another man’s arm I might lose it. My obsession has grown too much now. I already see her as mine.

BuyMe3-Teaser4.jpgShe plays the part of a woman who doesn’t really know what she’s doing while a high roller pays for her chips as she starts to rob us. The high roller has no idea what she’s up to. She’s probably charmed him, and he’d eaten up the idea of a night on the town with her. I could understand that, too. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to get close to her. For example, that night, and every night since, I made sure she went home alone. Which, oddly enough, was a room at a casino.

I had her followed that first night, and since then all I can tell is she seems to jump from hotel to hotel. I’d finally gotten her to stay here as I had a casino host offer her a suite. I had no idea how long she planned to stay, but I’d already worked out that little kink after the first week of seeing her. She had this habit of ditching her cellphone every forty-eight hours. I’d tracked one only to have it end up in a trash can. I quickly learned where she had been getting new ones. Always the same store.

I own two casinos, seven nightclubs, and God knows how many fucking restaurants, but this was my first cell store. I bought it, placing one of my own security team members at the counter, and every new phone she got had a little bonus just for me. Like I said, I already knew she was on the casino floor before Dawson walked into my office because I always knew where she was. Always.

The older gentleman on the other side of the table says something to her, making her throw her head back and laugh. Her thick blonde curls bounce with the movement. I’ve lived in Vegas my whole life. Beautiful women are everywhere. You can’t turn around without running into one, even more so when you’re as rich as I am. But now, well into my forties, women don’t seem to hold the same appeal they used to.

She’s different. She doesn’t look like any of them. She has a beauty of her own, and it’s one I’ve never seen before. Her body is lush and full of life just like her. I want to pull her curvy softness to my body and make her give me that big laugh. Feel it run through my body as her warmth molds into me. Everything about her is full. Like you could grab onto any part of her and dig in.

She’s young, too young for me. She’s barely old enough to be in the casino. I’d told myself that was why I should stay away from her. But if she wants to play with the big boys and steal from my casino, she’ll have to deal with me.

It feels like she’s woken me up from a haze I hadn’t realized I’d fallen into. I don’t know what her big plan is, but this time she might have bitten off more than she can chew. She may have been able to ditch other men easily after getting what she wanted from them, but that wouldn’t be the case with me. I’m going to lock myself so deep into her she’ll never escape.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that everyone around me is falling in love. BuyMe3-Teaser2.jpgI’d never really thought of having a woman of my own, but now it feels like my whole body needs it. Aches for her.

It’s an ache so deep it’s starting to feel like it has no bottom to it. That all these years I’d spent building this life and working my way to the top would mean nothing if I couldn’t have her.

I stay rooted in my spot as I watch her work. Winning hand after hand after hand.

As if she feels my stare, she turns slightly, her eyes meeting mine. We both just look at one another, neither of us making another move. Her eyes roam over me like she’s sizing me up. I’ve always tried to make sure she never sees me, but time is up. I’m claiming what I want.

She could spend her days counting cards in my casino all she wants. As long as she spends her nights under me as she begs me to take her, begs me to make her mine.

The last thought knocks the air out of my lungs. I want her to be mine. Not just for a night; a night would never be enough. I haven’t even touched her and I know I’ll never get enough. There will be no sating my need for her.

She bites her lip as her eyes meet mine. I bet I was the one thing she didn’t count on.

 

 

– BUY THE BOOK –

 

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  

 

Free on Kindle Unlimited

 

 

– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –

 

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Alexa Riley is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.

They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!

 

 

 

– AUTHOR LINKS –

Twitter  Facebook Website  

Goodreads  Amazon Page  Instagram

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Cover Reveal: Infinity by Shanora Williams

Cover Reveal: Infinity by Shanora Williams

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– SYNOPSIS –

I am going to die.

I can’t change or fix it.

It is just something that is bound to happen.

Infinity Front Ebook Cover.jpgI have fought for so long that all I want to do is give up, but I can’t because I have a sweet, devoted husband.

I have a sister, who I am deathly afraid to leave behind because I am all the family she has left.

And then there’s Maximilian Grant—the ex that I can’t seem to shake or get rid of.

I want to remain a warrior, but when what’s left of my life is tested, and my love becomes a jumbled up mess, all I can think is one heart shattering thing.

How can I leave this world peacefully knowing not only is there one man that would die for me, but two?

 

 

 

 

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– EXCERPT –

 

I shift constantly, causing Max to wake up and reach for me. “Hey,” his voice is thick and groggy. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just can’t sleep.”

“Uncomfortable?”

“No. I’ll be okay. You can go back to your room if you want. You don’t have to stay in that uncomfortable chair.”

He sits back in the chair, lips twisting, his body adjusting in the dark. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”

“Okay.” I cuddle with the blankets. “Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Think you can sing that song for me? You know, the one you always used to sing when you spent the night at my place.”

“Aw man,” he shakes with laughter. I grin in the darkness. “Okay. One sec.” He sits forward, grabbing my hand and stroking the back of it as he starts to sing I See Fire by Ed Sheeran.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Max has a horrible voice—all crackly, deep and awkward—but it has always comforted me.

He sung it one night during karaoke at a bar that had two dollar drink night. It was great. Since then, this was the song he’d sing whenever I needed a pick-me-up or needed to be comforted.

While he sings, I finally start to drift off again.

I’m not sure when he’s done, all I know is that I’m dreaming again– only this time it’s a peaceful one.

I’m surrounded by people that love me.

John.

Sonny.

Danny.

Max.

My friends from Capri.

Even Grandma Lane, Aunt Jessie, and my father, Abraham Hales. The only thing is… I’m gone. But I’m glad to be gone. Instead of being at a funeral, they’re celebrating the fact that I’m no longer suffering—that I’m happy.

They’re celebrating the life of Shannon Hales-Streeter… celebrating me.

They’re all smiling.

Dancing.

Sharing funny, beautiful memories.

It’s beautiful, so beautiful I feel Max rub my back in my sleep. I’m whimpering… which has been happening a lot since my diagnosis. I feel it, but I can’t seem to wake up.

But when I finally do it is because the warm stretch of horizon sun is kissing my skin. Max is no longer here.

Good. He’s given me the wide window of opportunity to cry in silence as I recall each memory of us. Everything I’ve ever been through.

The tragedies.

The mistakes.

Every single thing.

And then I wonder all over again… why me?

 

 

– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –

 

SHANORA WILLIAMS

 

Shanora Williams is a twenty-something that creates authentic romantic stories that, may or may not, make you question what a “Happily Ever After” truly is. After hitting the New York Times and USA Today bestsellers list at the mere age of nineteen, Shanora ventured further into the creative writing world, working even harder to create unique and memorable romances for all to enjoy.

She currently resides in Waxhaw, North Carolina and is the mother of one amazing boy, in love with her devoted man, and a sister to eleven.

When she isn’t writing, she’s spending time with her family, binge reading, or running marathons on Netflix while scarfing down anything sweet and salty. She also writes under the pen name S. Q. Williams.

 

– AUTHOR LINKS –

Web  Twitter  Facebook  Instagram Amazon Page Goodreads

 

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Cover Reveal: Lauren Blakely’s Sinful Love

Cover Reveal:  Sinful Love by Lauren BlakelySinful Love - cover reveal graphic

 

We are absolutely thrilled to bring you the Cover Reveal for Lauren Blakely’s SINFUL LOVE! SINFUL LOVE is the stunning conclusion to Lauren’s New York Times and USA Today bestselling erotic romance Sinful Nights Series and releases March 28th. SINFUL LOVE follows a new couple in the series! Yes, technically it can be read as a standalone, but you’ll likely enjoy it more if you read the first three books in the series, bestselling novels SWEET SINFUL NIGHTS, SINFUL DESIRE and SINFUL LONGING! (FULL LINKS BELOW and also available here).

Lauren Blakely is well known for writing sexy, heartfelt and humorous contemporary romance as well as deeply emotional new adult stories — one commonality in all her books is the scorching hot sexy times. You can expect nothing different from her Sinful Nights Series! First, there was SWEET SINFUL NIGHTS. Those nights led us to SINFUL DESIRE and SINFUL LONGING, and now Lauren brings you the intense and passionate SINFUL LOVE! You won’t want to miss Michael Sloan’s journey. He’s devoted, protective, and there’s only one woman who can break through his walls! Lauren worked with her regular cover designer, Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations for this fabulous cover and we are so delighted to share it with you!

-SYNOPSIS –

 

Sinful Love - front coverIntense. Devoted. Protective.

Michael Sloan is all of the above, with a hard tough edge to boot. He’s not the guy he used to be. Years ago, before all the s&%t went down, he was laidback, carefree, and even happy-go-lucky.

Life changed him. Hardened him.

There’s one woman though who can break down his walls. Someone who knew him then. Who can reach inside to that heart he protects fiercely…because she’s the only one he ever gave it to. When they collide, it’s tender and savage, gentle and rough, and makes them both hungry for more of this electric, once-in-a-blue moon kind of sexual chemistry. But it’s a battle of wills between Michael and the woman he loves, with words and emotions held close to the vest.

She doesn’t believe she can ever move on from her own heartache, but when Michael makes her feel for the first time in years, it’s both thrilling and scares the hell out of her, setting off all her flight instincts. He’s determined not to lose her again, but he’ll have to learn to let her in if he ever wants to fully heal from the past…

The problem is, she knows something about the night his family shattered. She has the missing puzzle piece…but neither one of them realizes it.

YET.

SINFUL LOVE is the fourth and final book in the steamy, sexy, suspenseful New York Times Bestselling Sinful Nights Series from Lauren Blakely, author of the wildly popular Seductive Nights Series.

 

– EXCERPT-

 

Chapter One

The letter smelled like her.

Like rain.

He ran his thumb over the corner of the paper, and closed his eyes briefly. Memories rose to the surface, feeling like hope and possibility.

Far too risky things when it came to her.

Michael shut them down, opened his eyes, and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse on the Strip, trying to focus on the here and now, not the enticing lure of what if. Soon, the lights of Vegas would blink like a carnival unfolding below him, from the miniature Eiffel Tower, to the pyramid, to the blazing signs adorning The Cosmopolitan. Neon, glitz, and billboards ten stories high whispered of the best nights ever.

He had to stay fixed on the minute details of the present, not be seduced by the past, and how good it was. Or of how much he’d longed for a future with her.

But he wasn’t having the easiest time of that. From his vantage point, twenty stories above the concrete ribbon that beckoned millions of tourists, he brought the letter to his nose for one final inhale.

The scent of falling rain.

Try as he might, he gave in. A reel of sensory images rushed back to him in an instant from years ago, like the snap, snap, snap of old film. How many times had he kissed Annalise in the rain? Brushed her wild red hair off her cheeks, touched her soft skin? Listened to her laugh?

Countless. Just like the times he’d lingered on her over the years, even after that day in Marseilles ten years ago that had damn near slaughtered all his hope left in the world.

Carefully, he folded up the letter, slid it back into the tiny envelope postmarked from France, and stuffed it into his wallet, next to a crinkled, faded, threadbare note from his father that he’d carried with him through all the years. Her letter had arrived two weeks ago, and he’d read it a thousand times already. He could read it a thousand more times, but it wouldn’t change his answer. The same one he’d emailed back to her.

Yes.

It was always yes with her.

 

 

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Pre-Order Links for SINFUL LOVE coming March 28th

Amazon US  ✦ Amazon UK ✦ Amazon CA ✦ AmazonAU 

iBooks US ✦ iBooks UK ✦ Barnes & Noble

Kobo ✦ Google Play

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Add the Sinful Nights Series on Goodreads

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And don’t miss the first three books in the Sinful Nights Series

 

SWEET SINFUL NIGHTS

Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon Paperback 

iBooks US ✦ iBooks UK Barnes & Noble 

Kobo Google Play 

 

 

SINFUL DESIRE

Amazon US Amazon UK ✦ Amazon Paperback  

iBooks US  ✦ iBooks UK  Barnes & Noble  

Kobo   ✦GooglePlay  

 

SINFUL LONGING

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon Paperback

iBooks US ✦ iBooks UK Barnes & Noble 

Kobo Google Play

 

 

But Wait! That’s not all! SINFUL DESIRE is on sale for just $.99 for a limited time only!

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– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –

LAUREN BLAKELY

Author PhotoLauren Blakely writes sexy contemporary romance novels with heat, heart, and humor, and she has had nine books on the New York Times Bestseller list and eighteen on the USA Today Bestseller list. Like the heroine in her novel, FAR TOO TEMPTING, she thinks life should be filled with family, laughter, and the kind of love that love songs promise. Lauren lives in California with her husband, children, and dogs. She loves hearing from readers! Her bestselling series include Sinful Nights, Seductive Nights, No Regrets, Caught Up in Love, and Fighting Fire. She recently released BIG ROCK, a sexy standalone romantic comedy that became an instant New York Times Bestseller. She also writes for young adults under the name Daisy Whitney. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, text BLAKELY + your email address to 678-249-3375 (please use the actual + sign).

 

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Release Week Blitz: Laura Kaye’s Love in the Light

LOVE IN THE LIGHT

BY

LAURA KAYE

 

We cannot tell you how excited we are to bring you the Release Week Blitz for LOVE IN THE LIGHT by Laura Kaye! LOVE IN THE LIGHT is a novel told in dual POV and Part Two of her bestselling Hearts in Darkness Duet.  This much anticipated follow-up is finally here! Make sure you grab your copy of this sexy novel today, and if you’re new to the series you can grab the first novella HEARTS IN DARKNESS for just $.99 for a limited time!

 

 

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– SYNOPSIS –

 

Love in the Light - coverTwo hearts in the darkness…

Makenna James and Caden Grayson have been inseparable since the day they were trapped in a pitch-black elevator and found acceptance and love in the arms of a stranger. Makenna hopes that night put them on the path to forever—which can’t happen until she introduces her tattooed, pierced, and scarred boyfriend to her father and three over-protective brothers.

Must fight for love in the light…

Haunted by a childhood tragedy and the loss of his family, Caden never thought he’d find the love he shares with Makenna. But the deeper he falls, the more he fears the devastation sure to come if he ever lost her, too. When meeting her family doesn’t go smoothly, Caden questions whether Makenna deserves someone better, stronger, and just more…normal. Maybe they’re too different—and he’s far too damaged—after all…

 

 

 

Praise for LOVE IN THE LIGHT:

“Readers that have been anxiously waiting for more of this story will be thrilled with the passionate and poignant way Kaye
dives back in with this complicated and much loved couple. Love in the Light will have readers falling in love with Caden andLove in the Light - Teaser 1 Makenna all over again!” ~ Jay Crownover, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Marked Men Series

“Sexy, emotional and incredibly heartwarming, fans of Laura Kaye won’t be disappointed!” ~ Monica Murphy, New York Times Bestselling Author of the One Week Girlfriend Quartet

“Laura Kaye has a gift for writing beautifully damaged men and Caden Grayson leads the pack with enough vulnerability to twist your heart in knots.” ~ Tessa Bailey, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Line of Duty Series

“This book delivers – sweet romance, smoking hot sex, an entire tissue box full of angsty drama, and such love shining off the pages that it will blind you.” ~ Christi Barth, Author of the Shore Secrets Series

“This follow up to one of the most beloved couples in romance is delivered in the emotional and touching way that only Laura Kaye can do. Love in the Light is everything I could have wanted for Makenna and Caden–and more!” ~ Jillian Stein, Read-Love-Blog

 

– EXCERPT –

 

“Do you want to get changed and I’ll set dinner out?” Caden asked.

“Yeah,” Makenna said. “Sounds great.” The kitchen, dining area, and living room were one big room, with her bedroom door toward the far end. She paused there and looked back. Caden moved around her little kitchen, comfortably and familiarly, and he just looked so freaking good there. In her space. Well, their space now.

He still had his townhouse in Fairlington, but he rarely slept there anymore. And it was so bare bones in furnishings that he preferred they not sleep there because he feared she’d be uncomfortable. A part of her wasn’t sure why he even kept it at this point.

“What?” he asked, giving her a skeptical look.

She grinned and leaned against the door jamb. “I rode our elevator today.”

He shook his head. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Oh, I got trapped with a smoking hot stranger and made out with him in the dark. The usual,” she said.

He smirked. “That never happens.”

Makenna threw her head back and laughed. Still smiling, she changed into jeans and a pink camisole with a low back, and then she threw a warm, chunky caramel-colored cardigan over that.

She found Caden sitting at the set table, containers of food overflowing with several types of noodles. It smelled amazing—savory and spicy and like she could eat everything she saw.

For a moment, the look on his face made her think he was upset about something, but then he saw her and his expression transformed into a sexy smirk. “Smoking hot, huh?”

Laughing, she took the seat next to him. “You fishing for compliments, Grayson? I already said you were freaking gorgeous.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same as smoking hot.” He arched a brow, and damn if his playfully smug, expectant expression wasn’t hot as hell with his brow piercing and the widow’s peak of his dark hair.

She picked up her fork. “Okay, then how about this? You are so freaking gorgeous and so smoking hot that you make my heart race and my mouth water and my panties melt. Every time I see you. How’s that for a compliment?”

Caden’s smile was slow coming but so damn sexy. “I like tattoo night.”

She laughed and shook her head. “So do I.”

 

– BUY THE BOOK –

 

Love in the Light - Teaser 2

 

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And don’t miss the first title, Hearts in Darkness, at 99 cents!

Hearts in Darkness -99 sale

 

– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –

 

LAURA KAYE

Author Photo

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

 


 

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