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Tuesday, May 31, 2016

#NewRelease #Excerpt Empire by @RachVD @InkSlingerPR

Empire 0 days   empire smash cover art
I have lost everything. My purpose My love My soul Death knocks on my door, I want to answer, but every time I reach for the handle -- the promise I made her brings me back. So I breathe. I live. I hate. And I allow the anger to oil beneath the surface of a perfectly indifferent facade. I am broken, I don't want to be fixed. But the Empire is crumbling and it's my job to fix it. My job to mend the pieces that were scattered over thirty years ago. A trip to New York, only one chance to redeem a lost part of our mafia family. The only issue is, the only way to fix it, is to do something I swore I'd never do again. An arranged marriage. Only this time. I won't fall. Or so help me God, I will kill her myself. My name is Sergio Abandonoto, you think you know my pain, my suffering, my anger, my hate? You have no idea. I am the mafia. I am the darkness. Blood in. No out.


    The loving couple in the rain  


Sergio looked ready to strangle me. “No. I don’t believe I asked for an annoying little sister, but if that’s what you’re offering, please don’t let me stop you. Just know, I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee if you get out of hand.” The minute the words left his mouth. I froze. He froze. The taxi driver stared little laser like holes into the rearview mirror. And Sergio leaned toward me. I swallowed as tension swirled around us. He gripped me by the chin and turned my head to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s like you have a death wish.” “You wouldn’t do it.” He pulled back as both of his eyebrows shot up, and then he looked down, like he had spotted something. I followed the direction of his gaze and let out a little gasp as a gun dug into my stomach. “It’s been directed at you for the last four minutes,” Sergio said through a practiced smile. “I meant what I said. Listen well. I keep my word. Kiss me, and blood will be spilled.” “Y-you’re a crazy person!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “And I wasn’t going to kiss you!” “Sure you weren’t.” He put the gun away. “Good talk though, right? Oh look, the movie theater.” To say that I scrambled out of the car like a kid running away from her kidnapper would be a gross understatement, but the minute my feet hit the pavement, I paused. My body told me to run. The guy had pulled a gun. On me. I didn’t even watch violent movies.  

Get the beginning of Sergio's story in Elude

 Twenty-Four hours before were were to be married--I offered to shoot her. Ten hours before our wedding--I made a mockery of her dying wish. Five hours before we were going to say our vows--I promised I'd never love her. One hour before I said I do--I vowed I'd never shed a tear over her death. But the minute we were pronounced man and wife--I knew. I'd only use my gun to protect her. I'd give my life for hers. I'd cry. And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl--a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place. I always believed the mafia would be my end game--where I'd lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption. Or the beginning of something beautiful. The beginning of her. The end of us.


Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.


#NewRelease #Giveaway Kiss ME That Way by @LauraTrentham @TastyBookTours

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Cottonbloom #1
Laura Trentham
Releasing May 31st, 2016
St. Martin's Paperbacks

A river divides Cottonbloom in two: the upscale enclave on the Mississippi side and the rundown, rough and tumble side in Louisiana. They’re worlds apart—but nothing can build a bridge like love…

Cade Fournette never had it easy Cottonbloom. He stuck around long enough to raise his orphaned siblings and then hightailed it out West—and never looked back. Even though he’s made a success of himself in Seattle, Cade never lost the toughness and the angry edge that helped him survive down South. His only weak spot: the girl he left behind…

Monroe Kirby came from the wealthy side of town, but that didn’t protect her from her mother’s drinking—or her mother’s boyfriend. It was Cade who did that, on a long-ago hot September night, before he disappeared…along with a piece of her heart. Now Monroe is a physical therapist who can fight for herself, and it’s Cade who could use some conditioning when he makes an unexpected return back home. Will he and Monroe pick up where they left off and finally explore their mutual passion—or will the scars and secrets of the past divide them once more?

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Don't miss the next Cottonbloom romance 
coming June 2016

An award-winning author, Laura Trentham was born and raised in a small town in Tennessee. Although, she loved English and reading in high school, she was convinced an English degree equated to starvation. She chose the next most logical major—Chemical Engineering—and worked in a hard hat and steel toed boots for several years.

She writes sexy, small town contemporaries and smoking hot Regency historicals. The first two books of her Falcon Football series were named Top Picks by RT Book Reviews magazine. When not lost in a cozy Southern town or Regency England, she's shuttling kids to soccer, helping with homework, and avoiding the Mt. Everest-sized pile of laundry that is almost as large as the to-be-read pile of books on her nightstand.

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#NewRelease #Excerpt Dirty Love by @Meghan_March @InkSlingerPR

DL Available Now        

DL AMAZON (1) (1)

Greer Karas has been mine since the first day I saw her.

I walked away because she deserved better than I could offer, but I always planned to come back and stake my claim when the time was right.

But true to form, Greer wasn't willing to wait. She threw down a challenge, and I’m meeting her head-on.

I’m not walking away this time because sometimes you have to fight dirty for love.


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    Right now, I just want Cav. I might still want to kill him later, but not right this moment. I suck his finger into my mouth, laving it with my tongue and lips and dragging lightly down it with my teeth. As we hurtle down the runway, I make promises to him with my eyes. Take the restraints off or don’t; I’m still going to want you. Cav reaches out with his other hand and cups my breast, covered only by the soft material of my thin T-shirt. Chill bumps prickle along my skin when his fingers close around my nipple and twist. A moan escapes my lips, and I press into his touch. We say nothing until the captain announces that we’ve reached our cruising altitude. Cav removes his seat belt and mine before hauling me back onto his lap. “Jesus Christ, woman. Feel what you did to me.” He presses his hips up and against me, and I wiggle my ass against his cock’s solid length. “I want it.” “Good, because I’m going to lower you onto your knees, unzip my pants, and help you take it down your throat. And then I’m going to lift you up on my lap and slide your pussy down my cock until you’re full of me.” His dirty talk kills me every time. “What are you waiting for?” I ask, my tone taking on a seductive depth. “Need to taste you again first.” His lips crush to mine, and his tongue dives inside without waiting for invitation. Cav kisses like he does everything else—throwing his whole self into it. His hand is buried in my hair, tilting my head the way he likes. I moan into his mouth, loving the urgency radiating from him. Finally, he pulls my head back, his eyes greener than before. “On your knees, baby girl.” I nod as he helps me to the floor, the plush carpeting cushioning my position. Cav unzips his jeans and fists his cock as he pulls it out. As I lean forward, my hair falls around my face, but with my bound hands, I’m helpless to pull it back. Cav wraps one hand around the tangled strands and clenches it behind my head. I’m at his mercy, and yet I’ve never felt more powerful. The need in his eyes burns into me, and I want to give as much as I want to take.  

       dirty duet 3        

Desperately seeking rich, famous, single guy with a giant cock to make my lying, cheating, should’ve-been-born-dickless ex-boyfriend realize what he’s just lost.

Oh, and I give great head. Just sayin’.


No man in his right mind would answer that ad.

Except thousands did.

My name is Greer Karas, and I should never be allowed near another bottle of booze again. Because when I drink, my friend and I do stupid things. Like take a page out of my older brother Creighton’s playbook and post something completely asinine on the Internet. Waking up with a giant hangover to find my humiliating personal ad has gone viral is not my finest moment.

Cue my look of shock when one of Hollywood’s hottest new bad boys, Cavanaugh Westman, comes knocking at my door and drops his pants to prove that he does indeed have a giant cock.

What he doesn’t have is an explanation for why he disappeared from my life without a word three years ago, only to show up on the big screen two years later, killing bad guys in action flicks.

And now he wants me again.

What the hell do I do now?


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Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She's also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she's ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.

#NewRelease Your Mess is Mine by @AuthorStephAlba

Title: Your Mess Is Mine
Author: Stephanie Alba
Release Date: May 31, 2016
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I don't trust people who follow their hearts. Hearts are peculiar things. They're necessary muscles that keep us alive by pumping blood and oxygen into our veins. Hearts are also compulsory, often making us foolish. They pull us towards others with a force that aches, burns, and satiates you all at once. Before you know it that mass of tissue is no longer yours.
Maybe mine never was.
In my case, that draw came from a stranger that left my heart feeling both fulfilled and consumed.
I didn't expect to fight her for the last standby seat to New York City. I didn't plan on letting her get under my skin. Or the way her vulnerability tore me up inside and compelled me to care for her. She didn't plan on letting me witness her chaos.
Her anxious heart and my perfectionist mind let things get messy.
And though we didn't plan for it, our interrupting of each others' lives was exactly what we needed.
Sometimes the mess is the most beautiful part of life.
We opted for dessert wine and some cheese instead of traditional sweets. The more wine she had the more unfiltered Margo became. She wasn't exactly holding back in the first place, but her last semblance of restraint melted away.
After paying for dinner, we walked out into the cold fall night. I wanted to take Margo somewhere I knew would make her nervous. Mostly, I wanted to push her to that point of no control to see if I could at least hold her again in some way. Any touch was better than none.
Sure, it was fucked up of me to purposely make her nervous, but I was desperate. And where in the past I would have blatantly flirted and tiptoed over lines with women, I didn't want to do that with her. I wanted her to come to me. There was something about letting things unfold naturally that pushed me to be on my best behavior.
It wasn't easy though. She'd lick her lips, beckoning me to look at them. Her tongue danced over her crimson lips, inducing a jolt of arousal that shocked through my entire body and ended in my cock. Images of what her naked body and imaginings of how she sounded when she came flooded my mind. I couldn't take it any longer. If I got her in bed, I wouldn't need foreplay. I probably wouldn't last very long either. Wouldn't that be painfully unfortunate?
In her tipsiness, she allowed me to put my arm around her waist as we walked. We'd done so in silence till I continued down some subway stairs. She jolted to a stop at the top and shoved against my arms. "Fuck no!"
Despite trying to pull her forward, she slithered out of my grasp. "Come on, you gotta do it if you're going to live here, Margo."
I took two steps down, leaving us at eye level.
Her eyes turned glassy, and they couldn't focus on me. She'd dart from my eyes to the half-lit buildings, or at the people ignoring her odd reaction. "I don't have to do it today, Hudson. I may not move at all…."
"Do you trust me?"
She hesitated, again looking around at her options for running away before eventually giving in.
"Then come here, I'll take care of you," I said, the truth of my words surprising me.
Reaching out to her, I waited for her to join me. She tilted her head and assessed me, staring into my eyes before lowering her gaze to my lips then throat. Was she that afraid of the subway? Or was it the offer of my hand?
I think it was my words. On the plane the night before, Margo looked at me with such surprise. Sure, we'd bickered, but I’d helped her, and she probably hadn't expected that. Maybe she'd never trusted anyone and didn't know why she wanted to trust me. Just like I didn't know why I wanted her so desperately, or struggled with that same unexpected confusion I couldn't silence.
Clasping my hand, she followed me to the automated machine downstairs where I purchased two one-way tickets. We approached the platform, and every little noise startled her. It was kind of cute to see her conquering her fears, but what impressed me was her need to prove herself to both of us. We boarded the over-filled train and had no option but to stand towards the back of the cart. With so many people around, we were squashed close together. I could feel the warmth radiating off her flawless skin. I could smell the remains of her incense and roses perfume that tempted me to lean in and press my nose and lips against her soft throat. The wine had also left me a little unhinged, stealing touches here and there. And she let me. Not once did she address my hand gripping her lower back whenever the train turned.
As if the universe could hear my plea, the train pulled out of the next station with a quick jerk and Margo's body propelled into mine. I caught her and wrapped my arms awkwardly around her waist. We were sealed together: her breasts on my lower chest, her torso leaning against my stomach and belt, the apex of her legs just barely cupping the center of my groin. I started hardening immediately, and I doubt it went unnoticed. All my hard edges were at home against her softness.
I couldn't help myself.
I pressed my lips to the top of her head and leaned over her. Holding my breath, I waited for her reaction to my brash affection, but she gave me back something I hadn't expected. She looked up at me and smiled. It was wide and brazen like her others, but it was also laced with a twinge of sadness. She whispered one thing. "You."
To which I replied, "Me?"
Margo nodded and pulled the collar of my shirt down before pressing her lips against my neck. They opened and left wet traces of her along my skin. It felt like fire—painful, searing, and warm. I wanted all of her, and I hoped that was Margo's way of telling me she wanted the same.
The train stopped and so did she. When she saw Times Square again, she inhaled deeply, the way someone does after swimming underwater for too long. With a squeeze of her shoulder, I led her straight into our hotel; the sooner I got her in private, the better. The elevator music was accompanied with my heartbeat and the machinery groaning around us. I could see all the ways I wanted to please her so clearly in my head, and every nerve ending in my body was burning with the need to touch her.
But I couldn't. I wasn't sure I could go through with it.
Have you ever had a moment so perfect that you don't want to do anything to fuck it up? That night with the girl in the dress and Chucks was a string of perfect moments all dangling together in my mind. Despite assuming I'd never see Margo again, I still didn't want to risk messing up the image I'd always have of her. It just didn't seem right, at least not if I initiated it. I didn't want her rejection to taint the pedestal she'd earned in my mind.
While I watched her walking ahead of me, I thought about making any move I could. I thought about kissing her again and seeing where it went. I considered just bluntly telling her I wanted to be inside her. Maybe she'd have liked that. But as she slid the key into her room door, I remained frustratingly mute. Margo turned and looked at me with heavy eyelids and flushed cheeks. In a raspy whisper, she said words I'd been dying to hear.
"Do you want to come in?"
"Really?" I stepped back. The desperation I had for her sincerity was drowning me in doubt.
Margo moved closer, pressing her soft center against my firm one. With her hand against my throat, feeling my pounding heartbeat beneath my stubble-laden skin, she looked up at me. Her gaze was penetrating and flooded with desire.
"Hudson, we've been eye-fucking each other all night, let's be honest now. I'm dying to know what you'll do to me if I let you."
With that admission, I became someone else. An animal. A tempted addict. A man craving only her. Grabbing her arm, I pushed her in and shut the door by slamming her against the back of it. She looked up with the most evocative grin and hummed in approval. Looking down at her, I grabbed her neck and wrapped my fingers around it.
"You have no idea what I've imagined tonight thanks to this fucking dress and that delicious mouth."
Before she could reply, I sealed my lips against hers. There was no turning back.
Stephanie Alba lives in Miami, Florida with her husband, her toddler and their two dogs, Milo and Van Gogh. She's obsessed with Disney, British history, traveling, romances novels, movies, and Halloween. When she's not glued to her laptop or writing in her notebook, she's either: running, planning her next vacation, binge-watching Netflix, reading, or chasing her toddler. 

Monday, May 30, 2016

#Tour #Excerpt Brawler by @ScottDHildreth

Title: Brawler
Author: Scott Hildreth
Release Date: May 16, 2016
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All men suck! They lie, cheat, and break women's hearts. I'd all but given up on relationships when I met Ethan Harlow, a drop-dead gorgeous boxer at Kidd's Gym.

He was sexy, muscular, tattooed, and talented.

So, I decided to give boxing - and men - one last try.

My name is Jaz. I'm a boxer. This story is about my rise to fame, all the while doing the two things I enjoyed more than anything on earth.

Fucking and fighting.

Along the way, however, I found out everything there is to know about being loved.
And my life will never be the same.

Brawler is a STAND-ALONE, rags to riches romance. HEA, no cheating, no cliff hanger.

INCLUDED FREE after BRAWLER as an appreciation to my faithful readers is a copy of my #1 Amazon Best Selling Romantic Erotica F*ck Buddy. Thank you, and enjoy!!
I had decided I would tell Ethan what my concerns were, see what he thought, and make my decision on how to proceed with matters based on his responses. I didn’t expect him to commit to me, nor was a sure I wanted to commit to him, at least not yet.
As ridiculous as it sounded, I wanted confirmation that he intended to continue fucking me. I didn’t care what we chose to call our situation, I was concerned with more important things.
The most important thing.
“How long have we known each other?” I asked.
“A month. Give or take.”
“Things have changed between us here lately, and I want to discuss it.”
He looked worried. “Okay.”
“We’re fucking now.”
He returned an awkward stare. “Is that bad?”
“No,” I said. “It’s not bad, it’s just. I don’t want it to stop.”
Ethan wasn’t opposing me, but he sure wasn’t making me feel comfortable that he was vested in our conversation, either.
“I’ve got this fear that you’re going to walk away, and I’m going to be…”
It seemed strange telling him I was concerned that his big cock was going to ruin me from being able to be satisfied in the future. The longer I struggled with choosing the words to finish my sentence, the more ridiculous the entire conversation seemed.
I was mid-sentence into my explanation, and I wished I hadn’t even started our little cock talk.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I appreciated the reassurance, but I wasn’t convinced. “Give me a second. I wasn’t done with my thought, and I need to think of how to say it.”
My brain was mush. I’d never been one for beating around the bush, and there was no sense in starting now.
“You’ve got a really nice cock,” I said.
He seemed embarrassed, but eventually he smiled. “Thanks.”
Really nice. And. Well. I was afraid that in a few weeks I’d be ruined, and then…you know…it’d be impossible to be satisfied in the future.”
There. I said it.
He stared back at me as if waiting for me to continue. I returned his stare, waiting for his response.
His brow wrinkled and his eyes narrowed. “I’m lost. You said a minute ago that you didn’t want to stop doing it. Then, you said if we continued, you’d be ruined. Did I hurt you or something?”
“Hurt me?”
“Yeah.” He gestured toward my crotch. “Tear your junk up?”
My junk?
“No.” I chuckled. “You didn’t tear me up.”
He looked confused. “So what are we talking about?”
“I said I wanted some commitment from you that you weren’t going to just…I don’t know…walk away. You know, that you weren’t planning on hittin’ it and quitin’ it. Not that that’s never happened, because it has. But if it happens with you, I’d rather it happen now than after a while. I just don’t want to be left, you know, struggling to have orgasms later in life because I’m all hung up on thick cocks and I can’t find one after you’re gone. I know there aren’t any assurances in a deal like this, but I was wanting…I was hoping that you’d tell me that you weren’t planning on…” I cleared my throat. “Are you going to fuck me again?”
His eyes went wide. “Wow.”
I scrunched my nose and glared. “What?”
“You are a girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“You fight like a man. You walk like a man. You talk like a man. Well, when you cuss, anyway. But that? Whatever that was? That was one hundred percent girl. It made no sense whatsoever.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
I had explained everything. For as polite and as attentive as he was, he was a complete man.
Never paying attention to what a woman says.
Born in San Diego California, Scott now calls Wichita, Kansas home. Residing in Kansas with his wife, Jessica, and six children, he somehow finds twelve hours a day to work on his writing.

Addicted to riding his Harley-Davidson, tattoos, and drinking coffee, Scott can generally be found in a tattoo shop, on his Harley, or in a local coffee house when not writing.

Scott is a hybrid author who both self-publishes and conventionally publishes. Look for a three book (mafia erotic romance) series releasing in 2016 through Harlequin Romance.

Loyal to the fans, fan girls, and faithful followers who allowed him to make writing a full-time career, Scott communicates with his followers on Facebook almost daily. He encourages his readers to follow him on Facebook and Twitter.

#Preorder #Sale Inseverable by @CecyRobson @TastyBookTours @TastyBookPR

Don't Miss this Price....Only for a Limited Time!

Carolina Beach #1
Cecy Robson
Releasing June 21st, 2016

How can you imagine forever with someone who's leaving everything behind?

Callahan, a former army sniper, wants to make an escape from his past and everything he experienced at war, but most of all, just not feel. Feeling leads to pain and he's suffered enough. When he inherits a house on South Carolina's Kiawah Island, he packs his bags, lured by the peace and seclusion he thinks it will bring. But, Callahan never counted on meeting anyone like Trinity . . .

Trinity has always been the cute, and funny one, who most guys overlook inpursuit of her "hot" friends. She became used to being everyone's pal, until the day the young man she was attracted to, was drawn to her in return. He became her first great love, and first crushing heartbreak when she found him in bed with one of her closest friends.

To move forward, and to carry out her commitment to helping those in need, Trinity enlists in the Peace Corps, but not before returning to Kiawah for one last memorable summer. She just never imagined it would be so unforgettable.

Callahan doesn't want to get close to anyone-let alone Trinity. He finds her perkiness insufferable and her attempts to entice a smile distracting. After all, he's in Kiawah to leave all feelings behind. But when it comes to Trinity, who feels everything, it's hard not to feel something.

Neither expected to fall in love. And no one could have predicted how inseverable they'd become.

Pre-Order Now

CECY ROBSON is the New Adult and Contemporary author of the Shattered Past series, the O’Brien Family novels, and the award winning author of the Weird Girls Urban Fantasy Romance series. A self-proclaimed professional napper, Cecy counts among her talents a jaw-dropping knowledge of useless trivia, the ability to make her hair big, and a knack for breaking into song, despi4e her family’s vehement protests. A full-time writer, registered nurse, wife, and mother living in the South, Cecy enjoys spending time with her family and silencing the yappy characters in her head by telling their stories.

Don't forget to pick up Cecy's Newest Release, 
O'Brien Series 

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