COVER REVEAL – Archangel’s Heart by Nalini Singh

Archangel’s Heart is the 9th book in the

Guild Hunter series

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Archangel’s Heart releases November 1st!

Now Available for Pre-order HERE: http://bit.ly/28P4Qel

Add it to your TBR: http://bit.ly/GoodreadsArchangelsHeart

Blurb

One of the most vicious archangels in the world has disappeared. No one knows if Lijuan is dead or has chosen to Sleep the long sleep of an immortal. But with her lands falling into chaos under a rising tide of vampiric bloodlust, a mysterious and ancient order of angels known as the Luminata calls the entire Cadre together to discuss the fate of her territory.

Accompanying her archangelic lover Raphael to the Luminata compound, guild hunter-turned-angel Elena senses that all is not as it seems. Secrets echo from within the stone walls of the compound, and the deeper Elena goes, the uglier the darkness. But neither Raphael nor Elena is ready for the brutal truths hidden within—truths that will change everything Elena thinks she knows about who she is…

Nothing will ever be the same again.

Author Information

a

Nalini Singh is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Psy-Changeling, Guild Hunter, and Rock Kiss series. She lives and works in beautiful New Zealand, and is passionate about writing.

If you’d like to explore her other books, you can find lots of excerpts and free short stories on her website. Slave to Sensation is the first book in the Psy-Changeling series, while Angels’ Blood is the first book in the Guild Hunter series. The Rock Kiss books are all stand alone and can be read in any order.

STALK HER:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

EXCERPT REVEAL – Filthy English by Ilsa Madden-Mills

filthy english coverChapter 1

Remi

Plain and simple, this night sucked.

Sadly, it was my honeymoon.

I sighed heavily and gazed around Masquerade, an intimately lit London nightclub where everyone wore black domino masks, some elaborate and some plain, to hide their identity. A few die-hards even sported dark clothing with long, loose cloaks. Not me though. I’d gone modern with a slinky little number and three-inch heels, putting my height at nearly six feet. Yep, I’m the giant in the blue dress, towering over every girl and some guys at the bar.

My top teeth dug into my bottom lip as I gazed around the smoky club, my eyes bouncing off random faces. Even in a room full of party people, music, and strobe lights, I was lonely.

My groom was missing.

That’s right. Hartford Wilcox, Jr., aka Mr. Nice Guy at Whitman University in North Carolina, had jilted me two weeks before the big wedding day as we had dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, Mario’s.

And now here I was—on my honeymoon and getting trashed with my best friend Lulu who’d decided to skip her beach vacation and come with me at the last minute.

She poked me with her finger as we sat in front of the heavy wooden bar of the club. “Hey, Earth to Remi, get that glazed look out of your eyes and order a drink already. I’m thirsty.” She fluffed her pixie-cut pink hair and straightened her black tutu, eyes scoping out the club. “Dang, the men in here are hotter than a billy goat with a blow torch,” she said in her honeyed southern drawl.

I half-heartedly agreed, not really caring, more intent on scanning the bottles behind the bar. “I want tequila,” I murmured. “A whole bottle.”

Her face snapped back to me and her green eyes widened. “Uh-uh. No way. I know what happens when you drink that crap. You either eat a ton of tacos and puke, or you wrap yourself around some cocky bastard with a well-developed tush.”

True. I did love a tight muscular ass.

But I wouldn’t get one tonight.

A short laugh burst out of me, one of those I’m-miserable-but-pretending-to- be-okay-laughs that I’d been doing a lot of lately. For the past two weeks, I’d vacillated between a sobbing mess and an angry woman who became so incensed that “fuck” was the only word that seemed appropriate in any given situation. Going to the post office to mail he dumped me, but thank you anyway cards. Fuck. Going to the wedding venue and not getting the ten thousand dollar deposit back. Fuck. Realizing I was homeless fall semester—which was in two weeks—fuck. Listening to my mother tell me it was my fault. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The bartender delivered my bottle and poured me a shot. I sucked the tequila down while Lulu watched me warily. It tasted like bad decisions and gasoline, but tonight was about forgetting. The sooner the better.

A few minutes later, Lulu went out to dance with a British guy she’d been making eyes at. I sat glumly at the bar, fiddling with my diamond tennis bracelet, rubbing it like rosary beads. I needed to forget Hartford, and according to Lulu, that meant hooking up with someone.

Was she right?

Fate answered in the form of a beautiful man—and by beautiful I mean drop-dead sexy with a backside so delectable and muscular my mouth plopped open.

I snapped my lips shut and adjusted my velvet half-mask—the annoying feathery plumes on the sides kept sticking to my red lipstick—and turned ever so slightly to check him out, not wanting to appear obvious. He slid into the seat next to me, tall and broad with rippling shoulders and a massive frame.

I checked my appearance in a mirror behind the bar, mentally analyzing the odds of a girl like me snagging a hottie like him.

Although no one had ever called me beautiful, I did have two—okay, maybe three—things going for me in the looks department. My shiny, golden-brown hair that hung down in waves to my shoulders, my fluffy “pillow lips” as Lulu described them, and lastly, I had an itsy bitsy space between my two front teeth which were otherwise white and perfect. Lulu claimed the gap lent me an exotic look, like Madonna or Sookie Stackhouse. Whatever. I was a True Blood fan. I went with it.

He shifted on the stool, leaning closer to me. His cologne swirled in the air, the smell of expensive Scotch and musk mingling together to create a heady, slightly dangerous scent. I paused, goosebumps rising on my bare arms. The spicy whiff triggered a distant memory just out of reach.

As slyly as I could, I studied his profile from top to bottom. Like me he wore a black mask, although his was more masculine, not hiding his chiseled, movie star jawline. His lips were carnal and luscious, the bottom more plump than the top with a slight indentation in the middle. As I watched, his tongue swept out and caressed it, his top teeth biting it as if he were deep in thought. He raked a hand through his dark, longish messy hair, held it suspended above his head for a few seconds and then released it, letting it swish back into its tousled yet perfect place.

I tore my eyes away.

Something about him sent loud warning bells ringing in every atom of my body.

Danger, danger. Don’t touch that.

But my gaze would not be denied as I took in the tight black shirt and sculpted chest that was obviously used to the inside of a gym, right down to an arm that looked like it could snap a board in half—or me.

Nice biceps, Mr. Beautiful.

The pièce de résistance was the vivid blue and orange dragonfly tattoo displayed on his left arm. It was larger than my hand and took up most of his bicep. My eyes traced the contours of the design from the papery wings to the multi-faceted eyes. A bold black color outlined the insect, giving it a masculine feel.

Gorgeous.

True Religion jeans stretched down long legs and ended in a pair of black Converse without socks, giving him a boyish quality that was in direct contrast to the crazy-sexy-bad-boy vibe he had going on.

Him tonight?

Maybe. He was the polar opposite of Hartford who was blond, lean, and tattoo-free.

I nibbled on my fingernail. How do I get him to notice little ol’ me?

Just then a redhead with fluffy Farrah Fawcett hair strode up to his stool, bold as brass, wearing a tight, white mini-skirt that barely covered her booty. She brought with her the smell of sweet, cloying perfume, the kind I always got spritzed with at the mall.

She flicked her hair over her shoulder, casually rubbed her finger down his arm and struck up a conversation. Her fake, black lashes—which she’d somehow managed to get outside the eyeholes of her mask—batted. She puffed out her well-developed chest.

He smiled back at her with a wicked grin, his relaxed body language telling me he was confident when it came to women. She whispered in his ear, boobs right in his face, but whatever he said back wasn’t what she wanted to hear because a few ticks later, she crossed her arms, glared at me, and stalked away.

I blinked. What had I done?

Then he turned and pointed his devastating smile at me.

Shit, he’d made eye contact—as much as you could with a claustrophobic mask on.

But wait…

Was he crazy?

Because if he’d turned down her flirtation, I didn’t have a shot.

I didn’t know how to do the fingers-tip-toeing-up-his-arm-thing and sexy hair flicking. I didn’t know a thing about applying fake eyelashes. I didn’t know how to make my breasts sit up that high. I looked away from him and took another shot, feeling anxious and strangely off-kilter.

Mr. Beautiful ordered a drink from the bartender, his British accent smooth as silk as it washed over me. I froze. I almost knew that voice—deep with soft rounded vowels that made you tingle in your lady parts.

What was it about this guy that had me all jacked up and hot for him?

Hello, tequila, my inner voice said. But it was more than that.

Getting brave, I pivoted on my barstool, and found Mr. Beautiful’s eyes on me once more, searching my face. As if he too recognized the pull between us.

My heart played hopscotch, jumping against my chest. My skin prickled. I shivered.

Did I know him?

It clicked.

Dax Blay?

It was his voice, the same deep quality, the kind of voice that made you want to hop into his bed and ride him like a cowgirl.

My breath hitched, and I swallowed down the emotion that zipped up my spine whenever I thought of him. He was my one mistake, the time I’d tossed inhibitions and carefully laid plans aside and went with my instincts, only to have them tossed back in my face.

But the man next to me wasn’t Dax. Thank God.

Last spring at the campus-wide end of the year fraternity party with Hartford, I’d seen Dax, and he’d had shorter hair, like always, and zero tattoos. Yeah. No way.

Plus, last I heard, he was in Raleigh where his father lived.

Yet…

Dax was British. He could have family here. Maybe he got a tattoo?

Nah. I mean, what were the odds of us both being at the same club on the same night in a country where neither of us lived?

I tore my eyes off Mr. Beautiful and waved at a bartender for more limes, but somehow my tennis bracelet snagged on the bodice of my dress, leaving my wrist dangling like a wet dishrag in a most inappropriate place.

I wiggled my arm.

Jiggled it.

Even went so far as to jerk, but it wouldn’t separate.

Sweat popped out on my forehead. Holding my breath, I twisted and tugged the bracelet, forcing the delicate material in my bodice to stretch beyond normal limits.

“Well, hell,” I breathed, pausing to assess.

Skin-tight with a plunging neckline, the dress was mostly a stretchy fabric held together by sequined straps and a zipper on the side. Slated as part of my honeymoon wardrobe, it was a Tory Burch and had cost four hundred dollars, the most I’d ever paid for a fun outfit, and no way did I want to damage it. I might have to return it to rent an apartment at Whitman.

Lulu. I needed Lulu. She was a whiz with wardrobe malfunctions.

I spun around on the barstool and used my free hand to wave at her, but she was slinging herself around dancing, having a great time and completely oblivious. I resorted to flapping both hands at her, one high and one low. Several people waved back with baffled expressions, but Lulu didn’t notice. Dammit.

I groaned and slumped down in my seat, ready to scream. Now what? Go to the bathroom and repair it there? Good plan.

But the club tilted when I stood, the strobe lights making me squint as they flashed in my face. I wobbled in my leopard print heels—that Lulu had insisted I wear—and grabbed the stool to keep my balance. `

I sucked in a breath to gather myself, but I couldn’t think straight. The room spun, and I was suddenly queasy, and why did I slam all that tequila, and oh my god, my wrist is currently attached to my tit like a T. rex arm.

I had to get out of here before someone noticed what an idiot I was.

Trying to be stealth like, I reached across the bar to get my beaded clutch, but because it was my left hand and not my right that I used most of the time, I got off balance and stumbled—and my ankle folded in on itself. I yelped as my shoe catapulted off my foot and vaulted off toward the dance floor, while I fell forward, straight into Mr. Beautiful’s lap.

Filthy English (unedited excerpt)

Copyright Ilsa Madden-Mills

The British are HERE!  

Are you readyfor Filthy English?

filthy english teaser 2Add to your TBR for a July 11th release here: http://bit.ly/28MpTlk

filthy english coming soonBlurb

A smokin’ hot British player…

A jilted girl…

One night of mistaken identity…

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

She didn’t plan on attending a masquerade party.

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

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

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

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

*A modern love story inspired by Romeo and Juliet*

filthy english teaser

attractive aroused girl monochrome image with noise effect

About the Author

ilsa madden -millsa

New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.

She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.

When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

You can stalk her on her website as well as get signed books: http://www.ilsamaddenmills.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorilsamaddenmills?pnref=lhc

IG: https://instagram.com/ilsamaddenmills/

Twitter: @ilsamaddenmills

Ilsa Madden-Mills’ other books:

VERY BAD THINGS

Amazon: http://amzn.to/28Oq7at

iBooks: http://apple.co/28VSNv9

BN: http://bit.ly/1bOyH2g

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1D0BVw5

VERY WICKED BEGINNINGS

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1K5NvX8

VERY WICKED THINGS

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NvRIr5

iBooks: http://apple.co/1mVS3Wo

BN: http://bit.ly/1mT1cDB

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1C9EZt3

VERY TWISTED THINGS

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1cvvkkh

iBooks: http://apple.co/1eN7Clh

BN: http://bit.ly/1KK0ljh

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1BHcK4R

RELEASE BLITZ – Everything by Erin Noelle

Everything is the story every Book Boyfriend fan has been waiting for!  #Rocker

everything now availableNOW LIVE!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1Sd9zD2

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1UF88TP

iBooks: http://apple.co/28VQdoB

Nook: http://goo.gl/HEIXok

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Blurb

Music was was part of my DNA, pumping hard through my veins, resonating deep within my bones. Not surprising, considering my dad was a global rock star and my mom had the voice of a fallen angel.

With my twin sister by my side in our indie-rock duo, Singed Wings, we were ready to finally see our name in lights when we opened for the hottest act to sell out stadiums – Jobu’s Rum Summer Reunion Tour.

The life I’d always wanted was finally within my reach. All I had left to do was finish out my last semester of high school.

But there was one problem: Ms. Sloan, the new art history teacher.

The same Ms. Sloan I’d met as Belle, the sexy little pixie who’d captivated me at a New Year’s Eve concert last year.

The same Ms. Sloan who’d owned nearly every one of my thoughts since that night.

The same Ms. Sloan whose class I was in danger of failing.

With my dream gig dangling just on the other side of that cap and gown, all of my focus should’ve been on my school work and improving my music as I prepared for my big shot to rock the world…

But I never expected her to rock mine first… and to change everything.

Everything is a standalone novel. It is a spin-off from the Book Boyfriend Series.

everything teaser rbAbout the Author

erin noelleErin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and three fur babies. When she’s not reading or writing romance novels, she enjoys winning at cards and board games, awkward people-watching in public places, and doing cartwheels at the most random times. She’s usually barefoot, is never without a song in her head, and currently holds the title of World’s Best Procrastinator.

Her titles published include the Book Boyfriend Series, Dusk ‘Til Dawn Series, Luminous Duet, Fire on the Mountain series, and numerous standalone books that range from New Adult to Contemporary romance.  Her books have been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list as well as the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100. You can follow her on Facebook @ www.facebook.com/erin.noelle.98, her blog @ www.erinnoelleauthor.com, on Twitter @authorenoelle, and on Instagram @erinnoelleauthor.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

COVER REVEAL – Stoned by Mandi Beck

stoned cover

“A rock star without rhythm is a man with no soul.”

– Stone Lockhart

Stoned releases on July 13th!

Add it to your TBR:http://bit.ly/28Mw59S

stoned teaser graphic

Blurb

As the lead singer of one of the hottest bands to hit the rock scene, fucks are free, drugs come easy, and music is life.

For as long as Stone can remember, Willow has been his music – the notes that weave his soul together.

His rhythm.

Until he threw her away.

All he has left is a handful of pills and a few lines of powder to make him forget her.

And he tries, over and over.

Clean and ready to make things right, he’s faced with the fact that Willow’s moved on. She’s not the same girl he cast aside. Willow’s a woman sure about her purpose in life. Sure about who she’s meant to love.

Stone may be lost without his rhythm, but Willow has found so much more.

mandi beck bio

About the Author

Writer, wife,mom, student and avid reader.

Stalk Her:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

Excerpt Reveal – Cleat Catcher by Celia Aaron and Sloane Howell

Coming June 30th

Add to your Goodreads shelf now.

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AP new - synopsis.jpg

What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent–the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He’s the one.

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can’t get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn’t always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

AP new - excerpt.jpg

Kasey frowned, but then her expression lightened. “Say, Nik, you never gave me all the details from the lez experience you had in college. This game is boring as fuck. Entertain me with it.”

“It wasn’t really an experience. I just kissed a girl a little bit when I was drunk.” I shrugged as the first Ravens batter, Ramirez, strode to the plate.

“Not bad.” Kasey crossed her long, tan legs at the knee.

The guy sitting next to her gave her an appreciative up and down look, but her head was turned towards me so she didn’t see it.

“How much tongue are we talking?”

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the fall of my sophomore year, but it was hazy at best. I had way too much fun in school. “I think there was tongue, and she definitely felt me up over my shirt. I can’t remember if she ever went under, but I doubt it.”

“Nice.” Kasey set her beer down. “I think I need a reenactment. You know, to test you. Make sure you’re not running a game on Braden, pretending to be straight.”

I rolled my eyes as Ramirez swung and missed, strike one. “Not a chance. Besides, everyone knows I’m a Penis Flytrap.”

“Come on, just a little kiss.” She leaned closer as Kyrie snickered on my other side.

“No way.” I shook my head. “Braden would kill me.”

“I think Braden would be all about it. Just a couple of girls. One, his girlfriend, the other, like a sister to him. No harm in the two of us being friendly. Right, Kyrie?”

“Don’t drag me into this. I’m an innocent bystander.” She grabbed some more popcorn as Kasey’s confident grin surfaced.

I tried to ignore the hot blond trying to get into my panties. The next pitch was high and outside. Ball.

“Just a little experiment. That’s all.” Kasey’s tone turned wheedling. “It won’t count.”

“How many girls have you tricked into opening their legs for you like this?” I stared at her, not even close to falling under her spell.

She frowned. “Tons. What gives with you?”

“I love Braden.”

“Me too.” She moved closer, her big, pretty eyes open wide like the wolf’s in Red Riding Hood. “So how about you give me a little tit action as a sign of our love for him.”

Kyrie snorted.

“A little help here?” I turned to her.

“Nope.” She shook her head, a giggle falling from her lips. “I don’t get between Kasey and her prey.”

“Come on.” Kasey wrapped a lock of my hair around her finger.

I tried to keep the amused smile off my lips. “I’m trying to watch the game.”

Ramirez finally made contact, hitting a line drive and trucking it to first base.

Kasey didn’t even look. She kept her gaze on me.

I sighed. “Oh my God. If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

She squealed. “Yes, I promise.”

“Fine, you can have a tit grope.” I’d taken many a tit grope from Kyrie, so this was nothing special.

She reached for the hem of my tank top.

“Hey!” I smacked her hand away. “Over my shirt and for no more than five seconds.”

“That’s it?” she pouted.

I tossed my hair behind my shoulder. “It’s that or nothing, you goddamn sexual predator.”

She smiled and licked her lips before focusing on my chest. “Fine.”

“Get to it.” I leaned back and dropped my elbows to the armrest, giving her maximum chest exposure.

She rubbed her hands together like she was Mr. Miyagi readying to fix Daniel-San’s leg. The guy sitting on her other side couldn’t take his eyes off us. I wondered if he was going to cream in his jeans.

“Here we go.” She hovered her hands over my chest as Kyrie shook with laughter next to me. “Luscious Nikki tits in three, two, one.”

“Hey!” Braden’s voice cut through the air.

I looked up and Kasey and I were on the kiss cam for the entire stadium to see.

“Kase!” I leaned forward, but that only pressed her palms to my tits.

The crowd went silent, and Kasey took the opportunity to give me a good squeeze. I smacked her hands away as the crowd went from silent to roaring with approval. I hid my scarlet face in my hands.

“Goddammit Kasey!” Braden was at the net yelling. “I’m going to kick your ass!”

I peeked through my fingers as a grinning Easton strode up behind him. “Come on, man. They’re just dicking around.”

“Kasey is a woman-stealer. She’s the devil!” He pointed a finger through the netting at Kasey, who was doubled over with laughter.

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head, my hands still covering my face.

“It’s not your fault. It’s the blond Satan sitting next to you!” The corner of his mouth twitched. He was holding back a smile.

Celia Aaron

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

Sloane Howell

Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

Visit his web page www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page  Instagram

 

 

RELEASE BLITZ & REVIEW – Blue Moon by Sydney Jamesson

Title: Blue Moon
Series: The Story of Us: Into the Blue #3
Author: Sydney Jamesson
Genre: Contemporary Romance
  Release Date: June 21, 2016
Blurb
“If anything happens to Beth, I’ll cease to breath; the sky will fall and time will stand still, but not before those responsible for ending our lives are six feet under and en route to hell.” ~ Ayden Stone. As The Story Of Us comes to a climactic conclusion, Ayden and Beth come face to face with their worst nightmare—losing the one person who means more to them than life itself.

Parted by a thousand miles across land and sea, they prepare to fight back; the clock is ticking, dark forces are edging closer and their chances of surviving are becoming less with each day that passes.

But nothing is as it seems…

They are knee deep in danger and deceit, and enemies remain too close for comfort. Will they be able to weather the storm of secrets, family feuds and broken bonds?

After a lifetime of waiting, Ayden and Beth Stone are so close to fulfilling their destiny, but will they get to live out the fairy-tale they promised each other over twenty six years ago?

A love like this comes along once in a blue moon—it’s worth fighting for.

But is it a love worth dying for?

 ADD TO GOODREADS

 
Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK
REVIEWBlack

Elizabeth and Ayden’s story picks up where the last book left off. Still worlds apart, they are never so far away from each other that they cannot feel the other. With the continuous threat of impending disaster looming, Ayden will stop at nothing to protect the woman that has become his heart and soul. Even if protecting her, means walking away from her.

Beth knows that Ayden is doing what he feels is best to protect her and their family, but she also knows that Ayden is in way too deep and by allowing his heart to continue to lead him, instead of protecting her, he may be leading them to a state of impetuous foredoom that could destroy them both.

I don’t know about any of you other book lovers, but there are some series and characters that you fall so deeply and madly in love with, that when their story comes to an end, it has a profound effect on you. The journey that Ms. Jamesson has taken me on with this series is nothing short of incredible. To create such a marvelous story with some of the most astounding group of characters that I have ever had the pleasure of reading, is a truly proficient, yet rare gift to any booklover and this author has most certainly left an everlasting impression on me.

I cannot recommend enough, this is a series that will stay with you and make you fall in love with reading all over again.

Also Available
AMAZON US / UK
  
AMAZON US / UK
 
AMAZON US / UK
Or buy individually
#1
Touchstone for play

On sale for 99c!!!
AMAZON US / UK
#2
Touchstone for giving

AMAZON US / UK #3
Touchstone for ever

AMAZON US / UK

 
Author Bio
 Sydney Jamesson is an English teacher by day and bestselling author of romance by night. She is nocturnal by nature and loves nothing more than staying up late, listening to music and being inspired to write. She has always scribbled things down; in her home is one enormous waste paper basket full of discarded phrases, opening lines and pieces of dialogue that have hit her like lightning in the middle of the night or whilst parked up at a set of traffic lights. Her bestselling trilogy, The Story of Us is available worldwide, and she’s thrilled to continue Ayden Stone and Beth Parker’s epic love story in her upcoming The Story of Us Series: Into the Blue.
Author Links

 

#STROKED #TeaserTuesday

We’re so excited about the upcoming release of STROKED by Meghan Quinn! Check out this amazing teaser! 
 
STROKED by Meghan Quinn
Scheduled to release: July 20, 2016
NA Romantic Comedy

BLURB:
Reese King: Olympic medalist, underwear model, Greek god.

His body is chiseled from rock, sculpted by the weight room, and refined by water.

On a daily basis his skin is completely bare for everyone to see, tan and defined, only covered up by a minuscule piece of spandex. There is no denying his sex appeal.

I hate to admit it, but I’m head over heels infatuated with him.

There is one HUGE problem though. His achingly gorgeous abs, inked up arm, and cocky swagger belong to my boss, the high-profile, reality star bitch from hell and certified heinous human being, Bellini Chambers.

What I think is going to be an easy job assisting a glorified wench turns into a cluster f*ck of epic proportions.

Help us celebrate by participating in the release events!
June 21st, 28th, July 5th, 12th: Teaser Blast
July 19: Release Day Blast
July 18-30: Review Tour
July 23-August 6: Promotional Event

About the Author:

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
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COVER REVEAL – Coming Out by Seven Slade

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Author: Seven Slade

Title: Coming Out

Cover Artist: Regina Wamba with MaeIDesign

Genre: Contemporary Romance | Standalone

Cover reveal: June 20

Release: July 12

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Coming Out-Final-ebooksmA long time ago, on a playground far, far away, an awkward boy with two mothers and a penchant for pink shirts shook a tough girl’s hand over the rattled frame of a deposed playground bully.

Tamsyn promised to be Rodrigo’s bodyguard if he’d draw her pictures of girls wearing superhero capes. Rodrigo promised to be Tamsyn’s buddy if she’d let him braid her hair.

A deal, struck. A partnership, forged. And the timid gay boy and the fearless straight girl became inseparable.

Now college graduation looms, and Rodrigo questions his place in the world. He has no boyfriend. No job. And a sudden—arousing—fascination with the female body. Correction: with Tamsyn’s body.

Then one night, a golden ticket from a broken piñata introduces him to the man he’s wanted for years. Now he’s torn between pursuing these strange feelings for Tamsyn or following the guy of his dreams.

Best friends forever.

If love doesn’t break them up first.

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Seven Slade is the seventh Slade of seven Slades. A native of the seventh largest city on one of the seven continents, Seven is seven times more likely to eat tacos on a Saturday than on a Tuesday. Seven wrote seven other books as someone else you may have heard of, but don’t let that distract you. It’s totally irrelevant. Seven’s favorite number is eight.

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COVER REVEAL & GIVEAWAY – Secret Book by Clarissa Wild

  Title: Bad Teacher

 Author: Clarissa Wild
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Booming Covers
 Release Date: June 28, 2016
Blurb
My name is Thomas and I’m always hard.
No really, that’s my last name. Thomas Hard, the pleasure is all mine … literally.
I can’t help it that my name suits me well.
You know what else suits me well? That girl sitting across the bar, with her lips right where I tell them to be. I want her, and when I want something, it’s gonna be mine.
One night. No names. No phone numbers. Just me, her, and pure pleasure.
Except, that one girl turns out to be the biggest mistake of my life.
Why?
Because I broke my cardinal rule …
Never bang a student.*Author’s note: Don’t like reckless decisions & unbridled screwing? Don’t love girls that are obsessed with ice cream, rainbows, and unicorns? Don’t enjoy a bit of corny humor sprinkled on top? Then this book is not for you. And last but not least, if you hate cats with giant jewels … Don’t even bother.*

 
Pre-order Links
 
 

Excerpt

Unedited excerpt – Copyright 2016 Clarissa Wild
“I’m going to teach you my rules,” he whispers, and his tongue briefly darts out to lick my earlobe, sending waves of heat down my body.

Then he steps back, leaving the air thick with desire.

But before I can glance over my shoulder, his commanding voice takes over.

“Bend over.”

I hesitate.

Three seconds.

That’s all it takes for me to actually go through with it.

My body leans over on its own while my brain shouts at me. What am I doing? Why am I doing this?

“Lower. Face-down on the desk.”

I don’t know why, but I listen.

With my head and tits on the desk, I suck in a breath, awaiting the next move.

I’m insane. Lost my fucking mind.

His hand gently pets my back, gliding down until he’s on my ass … where he grasps me firmly, squeezing tight. I hiss, biting my lip. Memories of our night together resurface, my panties getting wet from just his touch.

“You tempt me too much, Hailey …” he murmurs with a deliciously low voice.

His hand reaches down my skirt and roughly shoves it up, pulling it over my back.

I freeze.

What the fuck.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?

I shiver as his hand travels over my panties and across my ass, and my heart beat shoots through the roof. This is crazy. We’re in a room that can’t be locked. Anyone could come in at any time. Anyone could see us.

And still, I don’t stop him.

I don’t say no.

Neither do I want to.

But then his hand comes down on my ass.

Hard.

“You make me do bad … bad things, Hailey.”

Again.

I slam my lips together to prevent any sound from spilling out.

His hand is rough and ruthless as it spanks my ass again and again.

One after the other until both my cheeks zing with red hot pain.

My body bucks against the table each time his hand strikes my ass. It hurts, but not enough to make me cry. Enough to make my legs shake with desire, though.

It’s sick. Completely twisted, and yet I still don’t want to tell him to stop.

Maybe I just don’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning our argument. Or maybe I’m willing to take whatever he’s willing to give.

“You have such a nice ass …” he says softly, rubbing my painful ass with his flat hand. Every movement makes me twitch with excitement. “It should be cherished. Especially when red. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

I shake my head.

He fists my hair and pulls my head back enough for me to gasp. “Answer when I ask you a question.”

“No,” I say.

“It’s Sir for you, Hailey.” He grabs my ass again, this time even harder than before. “Say it again.”

“No, Sir.”

I moan out loud when he smacks me again.

“Good girl.” I can almost hear the smile in his voice.

I expect him to spank me some more, but his fingers are so gentle on my skin that it makes me relax. My muscles unwinds from all the tension, but my pussy is thumping so hard I can feel it through my entire body.

When his hand disappears, I’m left struggling to breathe.

After a while, I look back over my shoulder.

He’s not even there anymore. He’s standing at another table, gathering pieces of paper and putting them on a stack.

Confused, I stand up again and pull my skirt back down. He doesn’t look at me, which surprises me, after what he just did.

Jesus Christ.

I can’t even think about it straight.

What just happened here?

I step back slowly, trying not to make a sound. As I turn, my eyes search the room, hoping not to find anyone who has been sneaking a peek. Luckily, I don’t see anything but a door, to which I immediately start to walk. Right before I open the door, his voice booms once more through the room, reminding me who’s in charge. “I’ll see you Monday, Hailey. Don’t be late.”

Author Bio

Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, Stalker Duology, Twenty-One (21), Ultimate Sin, VIKTOR, and Bad Teacher. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire’s Bet series, and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.
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SURPRISE RELEASE BLITZ & GIVEAWAY – Poesy by Mary Elizabeth

 Title: Poesy
Series: A Low Novella
Author: Mary Elizabeth
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover Design: By Hang Le 
  Release Date: June 19, 2016
Blurb
Living on the right side of the tracks can be cruel.Poesy Ashby lives a dysfunctional life to prove it. Determined not to turn out like her parents, she’s gives up seeking their approval and focuses on breaking free. But abiding by the rules is nearly impossible when corruption is in your blood.

Before Poesy Ashby becomes a renegade on the run, she is a girl from the suburbs who finds acceptance for the first time in the most unexpected place: between rose petals and thorns.

Bonnie and Clyde have nothing on her love story.

Purchase Links

 

AMAZON US / UK

 

 Also Available

 

99c sale for a limited time!!!!

 

AMAZON UShttp://amzn.to/1OvUkKV / UK

 

Author Bio

 


Mary Elizabeth is an up and coming author who finds words in chaos, writing stories about the skeletons hanging in your closets.

Known as The Realist, Mary was born and raised in Southern California. She is a wife, mother of four beautiful children, and dog tamer to one enthusiastic Pit Bull and a prissy Chihuahua. She’s a hairstylist by day but contemporary fiction, new adult author by night. Mary can often be found finger twirling her hair and chewing on a stick of licorice while writing and rewriting a sentence over and over until it’s perfect. She discovered her talent for tale-telling accidentally, but literature is in her chokehold. And she’s not letting go until every story is told.

 
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