Book Review —> ~ Where the Blame Lies ~ Mia Sheridan

 

Where the Blame Lies

 

by Mia Sheridan

 

 

 

 

 

Abducted. 
Terrorized. 
Imprisoned. 
 
At nineteen-years-old, college student Josie Stratton was kidnapped by a madman and held shackled for ten months in an abandoned warehouse before she finally escaped her hellish prison. 
 
Eight years later, when the body of a young woman is found chained in the basement of a vacant house, Cincinnati Police Detective Zach Copeland is instantly reminded of the crime committed against Josie Stratton. Zach was just a rookie on the perimeter of that case, but he’s never forgotten the traumatized woman with the haunted eyes. 
 
As more information emerges, the crimes take on an even more sinister similarity. But Josie’s attacker died by suicide. Does the city have a copycat on its hands? A killer who picked up where the original perpetrator left off? Or are they facing something far more insidious? 
 
Josie has spent the last eight years attempting to get her life back on track, but now there’s a very real chance she could be the unknown suspect’s next target. As Zach vows to keep her safe, and Josie finds herself responding to him in a way she hasn’t responded to any man in almost a decade, the investigation takes on an even more complex edge of danger. 
 
As past and present collide, Josie and Zach are thrust toward a shocking and chilling truth. A revelation that threatens not only Josie’s life, but everything she’s been fighting so desperately to reclaim.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mia Sheridan is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. Her passion is weaving true love stories about people destined to be together. Mia lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband. They have four children here on earth and one in heaven. 

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/Mia-Sheridan/e/B00C32SV2M/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6994378.Mia_Sheridan

Website:

http://www.miasheridan.com

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/miasheridanauthor/?__tn__=%2Cd%2CP-R&eid=ARCPRjZ7vNdb482AhTIm5Y0O_n7ESGPA413ZLKS_mENd8uBQ2FugBENJBS9YBa0qkCcpFOnMTLqbJ57h

 

 

 

Casus belli !!

 

Where the Blame Lies

 

 

First this is not Mia Sheridan’s old school romance, angsty, emotional, and heart throb feels —- No, nope and not at all.  This is the DARK SIDE and I can NOT get enough!  Come to the dark side my book ho’s! 

There’s a fantastic cast, the characters were all easy to like, the storyline flowed continuesly, and the tears fell frequently, and the scenery written enhanced all the senses.

 

 

Mia Sheridan held nothing back pouring her emotions in true grit and raw form.  Trust me this true crime thriller is full of real life calamity, the scenes were raw, the characters portrayed great suffering, affliction and distress.  All of these emotions but most of all this is a story of survival, rising above and success.

 

 

Josie Stratton is the heroine and I do mean that in the literally sense, she is the survivor and she dominates in her supremacy.  The trial and tribulations she went through are no joke and sometimes hard to read, but in the end she rose above the darkness, fought to stay alive, and stayed the course.  She continued to live the dream, got a job, keeping a farm home, meeting friends and might have found actual love.

 

 

 

 

Zach and his partner Jimmy are on copy-cat murder/aduction case similiar to Josie’s, Zach was one on the responding officers to her crime about 8 years earlier.  I think these two souls might have imprinted at the time, who can tell with such horrors coming to light, but I got the feeling in Mia Sheridan’s talented fingers.

 

 

I really cannot say anything further except I loved all of the characters in this poignant suspenseful thriller and the romantic suspense is highly addictive.  But wait.. I have to say the twist at the end is a free fall into, um.. I’m not sure, I kinda liked the bad guy… dam me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t miss this one coming April 5th!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

COVER REVEAL! **Mine by Natasha Knight & A. Zavarelli**

 

 

Title: Mine: A Bratva Secret Baby Romance
Series: Ties That Bind #1
Authors: Natasha Knight & A. Zavarelli
Genre: Dark Mafia Romance
Cover Design: Coverlüv
Photo: Wander Aguiar
Release Date: March 17, 2020
Blurb
She was
never supposed to walk into my club.  
But she did.  
I shouldn’t
have looked twice at her.  
But I
did.  
The
criminal underworld is no place for a girl like her.  
One night
with Katerina isn’t enough, but men like me can’t afford to be
weak.  
So, I tell
her to leave me behind.  
She does,
but not before she sees something she shouldn’t.  
When she
goes into hiding, it’s my duty to hunt her down.  
I have a
job to do, and she needs to disappear for good.  
But four
years later, Kat isn’t alone anymore.  
And the
little boy right beside her looks just like me.

 

ADD TO GOODREADS

 

Pre-order Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Coming Soon
Releasing April 21
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Natasha Knight
USA Today
bestselling author of contemporary romance, Natasha Knight specializes in dark,
tortured heroes. Happily-Ever-Afters are almost always guaranteed, but she
likes to put her characters through hell to get them there. She’s evil like
that.
BOOKBUB
AMAZON
FACEBOOK
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INSTAGRAM

A. Zavarelli
A. Zavarelli is a USA Today and Amazon bestselling
author. 
 
She likes all things chocolate, books that come with warnings, and putting her
characters through hell. Her tales have been known to flirt with darkness and
sometimes court it unabashedly altogether. Revenge themes and tortured souls
are her favorites to write and this gives her an excuse to watch bizarre and
twisted documentaries in her spare time.
 
She currently lives in the Northwest with her lumberjack and an entire brood of
fur babies. 

 

COVER REVEAL – Owned by Him by Raven Amor

 

Title: Owned by Him
Author: Raven Amor
Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense
Cover Design: Simply Beautiful Cover Designs
Teasers: Graphics by Stacy
Release Date: February 28, 2020
Blurb
Lillianna would do anything for her dad. But the bond of family can
be a knife that cuts deep. Her father owed a lot of money. In the ultimate
betrayal, he bartered Lilliana as his payment. 
Traded to her brother’s best friend. The man who she once
loved, her childhood prince. 
Malachi Kingston is now the monster who stole her freedom.
Yet as secrets from the past surface, and
the pair battle against their darkest desires.
Blood will be spilled. Heart will be broken. Bullets
will fly and lives lost.
From author Raven Amor comes, Owned by Him, a suspenseful
dark romance that will leave readers breathless! 

 

ADD TO GOODREADS

Pre-order Links

AMAZON US / CA / AU
Excerpt
He grabs me by the
throat and shoves me into the wall, causing the plasterboard to fall to the
floor. Those black eyes penetrate me. His fingers tremble around my neck, and I
know it’s because he wants to squeeze harder. It’s the first time I truly fear
him; I see the man who was born into the world of crime and violence. I know he
sees my fear, senses it the same way a predator does his prey. As his lips
stretch into a wolfish smirk, he squeezes my neck tighter, cutting off my
airways, showing me he has the power to end me right here in this shithole of a
flat, the same place he sat and played video games with me. He’s telling me
none of that matters, that I’m nothing to him.
Malachi turns so
fast, releasing my neck. I gasp, trying so hard to pull in the oxygen my lungs
burn for that I don’t have time to process what’s happening. That’s when I see
the smooth metal of the gun he had hidden pushed hard against my dad’s temple.
So hard that a trickle of blood falls like a crimson tear.
“What are you
doing?” I whisper, too terrified to even breathe or make the wrong move.
My heart stutters as
he releases the safety catch, finger steady on the trigger.
“His payment will be
paid!” With the gun to my father’s temple, he’s clearly telling me that if I
don’t agree to his demands, he’s killing my father. He’s going to make me watch
as he blows his brains across the tiny flat. Malachi knows what he is doing.
He’s pulling the strings, and now he’s going to watch me dance.
His decision is
unwavering. There is no remorse in his eyes as his finger draws back, hand
completely steady.
He is a monster.
Shutting my eyes
against the pain, a tear escapes. I’m mourning the man I used to know, my
freedom, and the girl I know will be changed forever with my answer.
“Take me.”
Author Bio
Raven loves writing dark romance wrapped in suspense. She
loves finding the beauty in the pain, love in tragedy. And of course writing
those hot scenes. 
Raven describes her books as darkness mixed with blood
stained passion. 
Raven is fluent in sarcasm and adult language
If you can’t find Raven in her writing cave or editing hell.
Then you will find her curled up with a book lost in the words of other
authors. Raven has three daughters and one man child. All who she adores. She
comes from a large welsh family who are completely crazy in all the right
ways. 
You can find Raven on Facebook and Instagram. Or hanging out
in her group Raven Rebels.
Author Links

~Cover Reveal~ *Queen of Lies* BOOK TWO by Whitney G.!

 

 

 

QUEEN OF LIES

by Whitney G.

 

 

 

 

 

book 2 in the super sexy & thrilling Empire of Lies trilogy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The woman I fell in love with is a walking contradiction...
She's sexy as hell, yet infuriating. Hopelessly in love with me, but carefully plotting to get the hell away.
She honestly thinks that I'm the 'king of lies'?
Well, she f-cking fooled you...
She's the queen. 

*This is book 2 in the Empire of Lies trilogy*



You can start this thrilling & sexy trilogy

FREE – book 1:

 

 

 

 

 

The man I fell in love with is a f*cking liar... 
I don't have much time to reveal all the details, but I will say this: The "Woman disappears after wedding" and "Woman flees before honeymoon" headlines are lying.
I'm not missing.
I didn't run away after my wedding.
I would've never run away right before our scheduled honeymoon.
My husband has taken me.
No, correction: He's kidnapped me because he claims that "it's what's best". That I'm a mere pawn in his twisted game of chess.
Despite the fact that my heart is still tethered to his, or the fact that he's still the most gorgeous and beautiful man I've ever met in my life (he can still make me wet with a single sentence), I have to focus on getting away from him.
I have to accept that he's no longer the man I fell in love with.
He's the king of lies...





























~*~ Najla Qamber Designs - cover design! ~*~




















 

 

 

 

 

☆:*´¨`* BLITZ! ☆:*´¨`* SCARS by Author Jaimie Roberts!

:*´¨`* RELEASE DAY BLITZ*´¨`*:

SCARS

By Bestselling Author Jaimie Roberts

 

I had the perfect school, the perfect friends—the perfect life …

At least, that’s what I thought.

But you changed all that.

You are always there … Always watching … Always waiting in the shadows. You send me flowers and messages. You stalk me, trace my every movement… 
Until that one day, in a silly game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, when I finally get to feel you—have a taste of you …

It left me wanting more.

One catastrophic day, my wish is granted.

Just past my eighteenth birthday, tragedy strikes and I watch my family die before my eyes. 

You are there. You rescue me. You choose my life over my older sister’s, and I hate you for that. I hate you for taking me and imprisoning me. You say it’s for my sake, but I know it’s for your own. You make me see that my life could be much worse without you in it… 

You make me see true darkness.

It is in that darkness you make me desperate for your presence, your touch, your caress. You make me need you… You make it impossible for me to live without you… And then, eventually…

You make me fall in love with you.

Secrets will always wound the ones twisted within their web of lies… But the ones I’m tangled in … are deadly.

WARNING: Although this book (overall) is not a dark read, one chapter is an exception, and contains the following triggers: childhood sexual/emotional abuse with some intensity in one particular scene.

AMAZON US

AMAZON UK

UNIVERSAL LINK

 

 

 

 

He pulls his head back leaving the lingering smell of spice invading my nostrils. It makes them flare violently, trying to take in as much of him as possible. Once he does pull back, he lingers for a moment and my heart beats rapidly against my chest. Can he feel it? Can he hear the boom, boom, boom sound thumping against my ribcage? It’s almost deafening me.

“Trust me,” he says, leaning in to touch my lips with his. At first he moves in slow, coaxing my mouth open a little. I suck in his breath, taking every morsel of his minty fragrance. I’m not sure why my body is reacting to his every move, but it’s almost as if it’s seeking out something, and that something is this mysterious patterned stranger standing in front of me coaxing my mouth open to meet his.

 

Jaimie Roberts was born in London, but moved to Gibraltar in 2001. She is married with two sons, and in her spare time, she writes.
In June 2013, Jaimie published her first book, Take a Breath, with the second released in November 2013. With the reviews, Jaimie took time out to read and learn how to become a better writer. She gets tremendous enjoyment out of writing, and even more so from the feedback she receives.
If you would like to send Jaimie a message, please do so by visiting her at:

More by Jaimie Roberts:
Until I Met You: getBook.at/UntilIMetYou
DEVIANT: getBook.at/DEVIANTBook1
REDEMPTION: getBook.at/RedemptionDEVIANT2
CHAINED: getBook.at/CHAINED
A STEP TWO CLOSE: getBook.at/AStepTwoClose
LUCA: You Will Be Mine: getBook.at/LUCAYouWillBeMine
LUCA: Because You’re Mine: getBook.at/LucaBook2

~*~ Cover Reveal ~*~ Revenge, A Tri-Stone Trilogy Book Two by Anne L. Parks

Title: Revenge, A Tri-Stone Trilogy Book Two

Author: Anne L. Parks

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: July 28, 2016

Buy The Book

**Special Pre-Order Pricing only $0.99 until release day**

iBooks ~ BN ~ Kobo

Blurb

Recovering from a gunshot wound that nearly killed her, Kylie is tormented by her ex-boyfriend’s final words—to have her forever, even if it means she must die.

Desperate to regain her life, Kylie’s world is turned upside down when she discovers Alex betrayed her. The life she dreamed of now uncertain, she slips further into madness, convinced she is being stalked by John’s ghost.

Kylie fights to regain control of her life and salvage her relationship with Alex. Fearing she will never escape her ex-boyfriend’s revenge, she devises a plan to destroy her demon—at any cost.

 

Excerpt

“Well, well, if it isn’t Kylie Tate.”

My eyes pop open. Heat flushes through my body, and I’m instantly tense.

Rebekah. The woman who tried her damnedest to come between Alex and me—who nearly succeeded with her lies about a fake affair—stands in an identical robe with a glass of champagne. She slithers onto the chaise next to me.

“How’s your closed head injury?” She tips back her champagne, but her gaze never leaves mine

.

My pulse races. I want to smack the glass right out of her hand and choke the shit out of her.

“Getting better everyday. Thank you. How’s your escort service?”

“Same rude little bitch you’ve always been, I see. I hear you drove your ex-boyfriend insane, and he tried to kill you.”

“Yes, turns out the two of you have a great deal in common. You’re both psychotic and have failed at getting rid of me.” Heat surges through my body. How dare she twist John’s sadistic games into witty reparte? My head is pounding. The pressure at the base of my neck is about to explode. My jaw is clenched so tight, it’s painful. I don’t think I have ever wished violence on anyone—until now.

Other Books In The Series

Of Demons & Stones

A Tri-Stone Trilogy Book One

 

Buy Of Demons & Stones

Amazon ~ iBooks ~ BN ~ Kobo

Click to Sign Up for the Revenge Blog Tour

About The Author

 

Born and raised in the Rocky Mountains, Anne L. Parks has spent the last 25 years moving all over the United States. Married to the Navy – well a Commander in the Navy – Parks has lived in various locales throughout the United States. She currently resides in the Washington D.C area, and is loving every minute. When not writing, she spends her time reading, doing yoga, mountain biking, and keeping track of four kids. And drinking wine. 

2013 marked her debut in publishing. Her first novel, Strangers, released on her 45th birthday. She was amazed at the number of  people who fell in love with a story about two people dealing with grief, and finding love again. Abby and Bryce were the perfect couple to introduce Parks as an up-and-coming author.

Her second novel, The Return, released in December 2013. A wonderful Christmas romance, it is the first book in the Return To Me series. Book two, Return To Newport, released April 29th, and followed the couple through the murky waters of saying good-bye to a past that refused to let go. Lauren’s Return, the third book in the series, released on August 19th. This chronicles the challenges of bringing together a family amidst tragedy and death, and still holding firmly to the love they have fought so hard to keep alive. The fourth book, Returning Home, shifts the focus away from Jake and Eve, and delves into the life Eve’s eldest daughter. Clarissa has a secret she has guarded for most of her life. Fearing it will be revealed, she refuses to allow love into her heart – until she meets Griff. December 2014 brought the close of this series, with the release of RSVP: A Return To Me Christmas novella. The wedding of the year is threatened by Mother Nature, forcing the couple to re-evaluate whether “happily ever after” is really attainable.

Stepping out of her comfort zone, Parks delved into the paranormal with a group of highly talented authors. The result? An unexpected fantasy of four sisters fighting to save the earth – and each other – from their deranged mother. Elementals, A Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance Anthology, released on May 15th. Summer brought more collaboration with the release of a Fourth of July themed short story, FlyBoy, that was included in the Sparks Fly boxed set.

Of Demons & Stones, the first book in the Tri-Stone Trilogy, also released in July 2015. Book two will release July 2016, and will pick up where Kylie and Alex left off, and is sure to take readers on a rollercoaster ride of suspense.

Connect with Anne

Email ~ Reader GroupWebsite ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

 

 

Sales Blitz! $$ * I, Porn Star * $$ by Zara Cox

 

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Only 99c for a limited time

 

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

Nook  iTunes Kobo

 

 

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IPS.jpg

 

 

 

 

My name is Quinn Blackwood:

 

By day, I’m a billionaire CEO. Rich. Entitled.By night, I’m the exclusive porn star only known as Q.Why? Because I love women. If I believed in an almighty being, I’d thank him for creating them. They’re by far his most perfect creation… especially when I’m fucking one of them.

 

Oh, did I mention I’m an asshole? Fuck yeah. According to my shrink, I’m one twisted motherfucker. And that’s just the way I like it. Until she walks into my life…

 

My name is Elyse Gilbert, nicknamed ‘Lucky’ because according to my dad, I’m the unluckiest person alive, and I’ll die the same way I came into the world: naked, screaming, and dirt poor.

 

Yeah, my life is a twisted, seething mess. But that life changed the day I met HIM.He made me forget the cameras.He made me forget I was doing this for the money.He made me forget my shame.He made me forget everything. I was consumed by him. Only him.

 

But now my past has caught up with me.

 

 

AP new - excerpt.jpg

 

 

I turn to the last screen.

Her eyes are downcast. Her lashes are long enough to make me wonder if I have another fake on my hands. I sigh, then take in the rest of her face. No makeup, or barely any if she made the effort. Her lips are plump, lightly glossed. I use the controls on the remote to zoom in. There’s a tiny mole on the left side of her face, right above her upper lip. Not fake.

I zoom out, examine the rest of her that I can see. Her grey T-shirt is worn to the point of threadbare, and her collarbones are a little too pronounced. Malnourishment wouldn’t be a crowd-pleaser, but that problem can be easily taken care of.

Beneath the T-shirt, her chest rises and falls in steady breathing, although the pulse hammering at her throat gives her away. I zoom in on the pulse. The skin overlaying it is smooth, almost silky, with the faintest wisps of caramel blonde hair feathering it.

Something about her draws me forward to the edge of my seat. I like her pretended composure. Most people fidget under the glare of a camera.

My gaze flicks to her skeleton bio. “Lucky.”

Slowly, she raises her head. Her eyelids flick up. Her eyes are a cross between green and hazel with a natural dark rim that pronounces its vividness. I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but something about that look in her eye sparks my interest.

Hell, if I had a heart, I’d swear it just missed a beat.

“Is that your real name?”

She shrugs. “It might as well be,” she murmurs.

Fuck, I have another liar on my hands. “Cryptic may be sexy if you’re auditioning to be the next Bond Girl. It’s not going to work here. Tell me your real name. Or leave.”

“No.” Her voice is a sexy husk, enough to distract me for a second before her answer sinks in.

“No?”

“With respect, you’re tucked away behind a camera issuing orders. I get that you hold the cards in this little shindig. But I’m not going to show you all of mine right from the start. My name, for the purposes of this interview, is Lucky. It may not officially be on my birth certificate, but I’ve responded to it since I was fifteen years old. That’s all you need to know.”

Well…fuck. I note with detached surprise that I’m almost within a whisker of cracking a smile.

I rub my gloved finger over my mouth, torn between letting her get away with mouthing off to me this way, and sending her packing.

Sure, she intrigues me. And whatever relevant truth I need would be dug out before she signs on the dotted line, should it come to that. But for this to work, she needs to obey my commands, no questions asked.

“Stand up. Move away from the camera until you reach the wall.”

She rises without question, restoring a little goodwill in her favor. Moving the chair out of her way, she backs up slowly. The hem of her loose T-shirt rests on top of faded jeans. Even before she’s fully exposed to the camera, I catch my first glimpse of the hourglass figure wrapped in the petite frame. She’s a fifties pinup girl dressed in cheap clothes. Her breasts are full but not quite double Ds, her thighs and calves shapely enough to stop traffic, with a naturally golden skin tone denoting a possible mid-west upbringing.

She’s knock-out potential—subject to several nourishing meals. But I’ve seen enough and done enough in this twisted life of mine to know her body isn’t what would draw attention. It’s the look in her eyes. The secrets and shadows she is trying hard to batten down. They’re almost eating her alive.

I don’t really give a shit what those secrets are. But the chance to fuck them…to fuck with them, expose them to my cameras, sparks a sinister flame inside me.

“Turn around, let your hair down.”

Her fingers twitch at her sides for a second before she faces the wall. One hand reaches up and pulls the band securing the loose knot on top of her head.

Caramel and gold tresses cascade down her back. Thick enough to swallow my hands, her wavy hair reaches past her waist, the tapered ends brushing the top of her perfectly rounded ass.

I watch her for a few minutes, then speak into the mic distorting my voice. “Do you have any distinguishing birth marks I should know about, Lucky?”

The question sinks in. Her back goes rigid for a second before she forces herself to relax. “Yes.”

“Where?”

“At the top of my thigh,” she responds.

“Show me,” I reply, although I don’t really need to see it. My carefully selected stylists can disguise any unseemly marks.

Slowly, she turns around. I expect her gaze to drop or a touch of embarrassment to show, but she stares straight into the camera as her fingers tackle the buttons of her jeans. The zipper comes down and she shimmies the denim over her hips. Her white cotton panties are plain and the last word in unsexy. All the same, my eyes are drawn to the snug material framing her pussy lips.

I also see the hint of bush pressed behind the cotton.

I shift in my seat, but don’t reach for the hardness springing to life behind my fly. Hand jobs are a waste of my time. I either fuck or I don’t. It’s that simple.

She lowers the jeans to knee-level and twists her right leg outward. The round red disk just on the inside of her thigh is distinctive enough to need covering up. I make a mental note.

“Thank you, Lucky. You may put your clothes back on.”

A hint of surprise crosses her face, but she quickly adjusts her clothing. When she’s done, her hands return to her sides.

“It’s time for your screen test. Sweep your hair to one side and come closer. Place your hands flat on the desk, bend forward, but don’t sit down.”

She follows my instructions to the letter. I adjust the camera so it’s angled up to capture her face.

“Are you ready?”

She gives a small nod.

“You’ve just walked into a bar. You don’t know me. But you see me, the guy in the corner, nursing a bourbon. And I see you. All of you. Every fantasy you’ve ever had. I want to give it to you. You’ve found me, Lucky, the guy who wants to fuck you more than he wants his next breath. Do you see me?”

Her nostrils quiver slightly. “Yes.”

“Good. Look into the camera. Don’t blink. Show me what I want to see. Convince me that you’re worth fucking. Convince me you’re worth dying for.”

Her lids lower, her face contemplative, but she doesn’t blink or lose focus. Slowly, her expression drifts from disinterested to captivated. Her lids lift and she’s a green-eyed siren. Her attention is rapt, unwavering. Her bruised-rose lips part, but she doesn’t swirl her tongue over her lips as I expect. She just…breathes. In. Out.

She swallows, a slow movement that draws attention to her neck, then lower to her breasts. Mesmerized against my will, I watch her nipples harden against the thin material of her top. Her fingers gradually curl into the hard wood and every inhalation and exhalation becomes a silent demand.

In…fuck…out…me…

In. Fuck.

Out. Me.

I remain still, even though my fingers itch to twitch and my muscles burn with a restlessness I haven’t felt in a long time.

I watch her command the camera, her body rigid with lustful tension. Her eyes widen with the need to blink, but she doesn’t.

She stays still, hands curl into fists and she just breathes sex. Her eyes water and a tear slips down one cheek. The sight of it is curiously cathartic, a tiny climax.

I subside into my seat. “That was convincing enough. You may sit down, Lucky.”

She blinks rapidly before she sinks into the chair. A quick swipe and the tear never existed. Neither does the promise of the fuck of a lifetime that was on her face a moment ago.

Her acting skills are remarkable. For a second, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t want her to be too polished. I dismiss the notion and glance down at her notes.

“You list your address as a motel?”

The address in Queens is unfamiliar to me, but the motel chain is notorious for being exceptionally bad. I hide my distaste and wait for her answer.

“I arrived in town recently. I don’t have a permanent address yet.”

The secrets in her eyes, the threadbare clothes, the unkempt hair and unshaven pussy begin to tell their own story. She may be brave enough to sass me when she risks losing a job that promises a once in a lifetime payday, but she’s also desperate.

How desperate is the question.

“Are you currently working?”

She nods. “I work on and off for a catering service. But it’s nothing I can’t work around, if needed.”

“So you’ll be free to do this if I want you?”

The desperation escalates, then a hint of anger flashes through her eyes. “If? You mean I did all of this for nothing?”

I give a low laugh at her gumption. “You didn’t seriously think you’d waltz your way into a million dollars on a simple three-minute screen test, did you?”

The anger flees from her eyes, although her mouth tightens for a moment before she speaks. “So it’s true? It’s not a con? This job really pays a million dollars? For…sex?” she rasps.

“You think I’d admit it if it was a con?”

Her delicate jaw flexes for a second. “I guess not. So…assuming it’s not a con, how will this work, then?”

“If you pass the next few tests, and I decide you’re a good fit, you get the gig. You’ll receive one hundred thousand dollars with each performance.”

“So…ten performances…over how long a period?”

“Depending on how many takes are needed, anywhere between three weeks and a month. But I should warn you, it’s hard work, Lucky. If you think you’re just going to lie back and recite the Star Spangled Banner in your head, think again.”

Her fingers drum on the table, the first sign of nerves she’s exhibited. “I…I won’t be doing anything…skanky, will I?”

“Define skanky.”

“This is going to be straight up sex. No other…bodily stuff? Because that would a firm no for me.”

My mouth attempts another twitch. “No water works, waste matter or bestiality will be involved in the performances.”

Her fingers stop drumming. “Okay.” She waits a beat, stares straight into the camera. “So when will I know?”

I hear the barely disguised urgency and I rub my finger over my lip again. “Soon. I’ll be in touch within the week.” I’m not sure exactly why I want to toy with her. But I sense that having her on edge would add another layer of excitement I badly need.

When she opens her mouth, I interrupt. “Goodbye, Lucky.”

A passing thought about the origin of her name is crushed into oblivion. I press the remote to summon the bodyguard to escort her out, and I leave the room.

In my study a few minutes later, I bring up the screen on my desk and activate the encrypted service I need. I open the application and within minutes, the members of my exclusive gentlemen’s club are logging in.

My email is short and succinct.

The next Q Production is scheduled for release on 20 May 2015.

Limited to ten members.

Bidding starts in fifteen minutes.

 

 

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Zara Cox has been writing for almost twenty-five years but it wasn’t until seven years ago that she decided to share her love of writing sexy, gritty stories with anyone but her close family (the over 18s anyway!). The Indigo Lounge Series is Zara’s next step in her erotic romance writing journey and she’d love to hear your thoughts.

 

Thank you for reading her stories!     

 

 

Author Links

 

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~Blog Tour~ Covet Not: The Complete Sins of Lethe by ARDEN AOIDE!


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Buy the book.

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

 

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A gilded cage is still a cage.

 

From the womb, she was owned. Shula Kelley was signed away before her first breath, just like everyone else in secessionist Texas. She was called beautiful like it meant something important. Like it would get her a kind husband, or one less cruel. She hoped Jared Agnesson was kind.

 

And the devil you know is still the devil.

 

As punishment for his son’s rebellion, the patriarch of the Agnesson clan claimed Shula for his own. And she saw only one way out. Shula had a plan, but she didn’t realize it would require a savior.

 

Suffer not the sins of the father.

 

First acts of rebellion open doors that are best left closed. Until Jared walked through it. Her savior. But how can she truly love when she only knows obedience?

 

 

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He had been told long before he was to take a bride that it was important–imperative–to assert his place on top of her, between spread thighs, claiming relentlessly that which belonged to him. Her opinion forever insignificant.

He had never been told that a thirst so indelible could suffocate every blessed second. That an unsated hunger would leave him unsettled and a little terrified.

That he would need those same thighs to spread for want of him.

It had been several months, but the gift of her was still overwhelming.

“Did your mother ever call you Shulamith,” Jared asked innocently. He had been watching her for a short time as she methodically and efficiently chopped the onions, carrots, and potatoes for their stew. She was more adept with the large knife than even he was. He wasn’t quite sure why kitchen work made such a difference. Maybe it didn’t, and Shula was just very good with her hands.

He didn’t know why he enjoyed watching it.

She gasped as the knife slipped from her grasp and she nicked the tip of her fingertip holding down an onion. He was at her side grasping her hand with muttered apologies. He had meant to shock her with his new found knowledge, but he hadn’t meant to hurt her. She pressed her lips together, because she didn’t want to complain.

She gasped again when he pressed her finger in his mouth. “I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered.

“How did you find out?” She was afraid she might cry. She hated being named for a harem girl. She liked to believe that her mother did it to make a point.

“I didn’t really. Your name. Shula. I’ve never heard it. I looked through some genealogy information online and no one on either your mother or your father’s side shared that name. But, everyone had sacred names. First and middle. I saw a smudge by yours.”

“Father. He was ashamed. He tried to change it. But, it was too long–”

“Shh. Not now. Later.” His hands moved to both hips. He gripped tightly, and lifted her easily onto the counter. She sucked in a breath and held onto him tightly. The light in the room was waning, but it was the brightest light he’d ever been so close to her in.

He loved it when she was supplicant under him, trying to hide, trying not to spread her legs wider. He loved that by the end, she’s panting in his mouth, with her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She was his completely, and he never had to ask. She just gave.

He found himself wanting her to want him. Was it fair for him to ask for that when she hadn’t a choice previously? He frowned and stepped back a few inches.

She dropped her hands from his shoulders. “Have I done something to…displease you?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. It took a few moments to speak. “You are my wife.”

She nodded, unsure of his point.

“We didn’t get to choose, but I was happy at the wedding, unexpected though it was.” He stepped in close to her again, and her legs spread for him. He pressed both fists on either side of her hips. “You were my punishment, and I think it’s the grandest cosmic joke ever.”

 

 

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Arden Aoide lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and three cats. Turn ons include men who cry during sex, long walks on the beach, and talking about herself in the third person. Turn offs include mean people and trying to figure out how to write an interesting author bio.

She doesn’t write about the typical men you normally read about in erotic romance novels. She likes her men brainy and just this side of manic.

She’s an introvert, she loves coffee, Internet, British television, and pot stickers. And pie. She loves pie.

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Goodreads Amazon page  Instagram

 

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Chapter Reveal – Covet Not: The Complete Sins of Lethe by Arden Aoide


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Release date March 28th

 

Pre-order links.

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

 

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Covet2eBook.jpg

AP - Synopsis.jpg

 

A gilded cage is still a cage.

 

From the womb, she was owned. Shula Kelley was signed away before her first breath, just like everyone else in secessionist Texas. She was called beautiful like it meant something important. Like it would get her a kind husband, or one less cruel. She hoped Jared Agnesson was kind.

 

And the devil you know is still the devil.

 

As punishment for his son’s rebellion, the patriarch of the Agnesson clan claimed Shula for his own. And she saw only one way out. Shula had a plan, but she didn’t realize it would require a savior.

 

Suffer not the sins of the father.

 

First acts of rebellion open doors that are best left closed. Until Jared walked through it. Her savior. But how can she truly love when she only knows obedience?

 

 

AP- Excerpt.jpg

 

I

“To die, to sleep.

To sleep, perchance to dream–ay, there’s the rub,…”

William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Human ash was ridiculously difficult to work with when wet, but it was done. She had planned on nice clean lines gently smudged against her dark brown eyes, but the ash proved far too unwieldy. After watching it flake off when it dried, Shula added a drop of oil to a good sprinkling of ash to the palm of her hand. It still didn’t apply evenly, and she looked more like a raccoon than a bride, but her mother would share her big day now and she could take no other method to avoid it.

Though Shula would give her a ‘A’ for effort.

She tipped the urn into her great-grandfather’s rusted cigarette case, messily covering the razor blade taped inside it. She filled it, spilling quite a lot onto the floor, but she would have to get the broom out anyway. She pressed the case shut gently, shook the excess ash into the sink, and put it into her purse on the counter. She washed her hands and wiped down the sink, smearing the ash into pristine caulk, infecting it like mold. She smiled grimly.

Shula picked up her father’s tiny grooming scissors and went to work on her hair quickly. She started at the crown, cutting close to the scalp, but uneven in its swiftness. She had a massive amount of thick curls, but they fell quickly and silently, offering no protest.

Once done, the scissors were nearly worthless, but she put them away. She deliberately left several knotted strands stuck, so that her father would see them later and be reminded of this day.

She looked around the bathroom, avoiding her reflection deliberately, picking out things that she hated and she tried to take comfort that she would never see them again. Her stomach lurched in grief, so she finally looked at the woman in the mirror, this stranger no longer, summoning strength with a glance. She looked like a horror and she felt an acute anticipation for her unveiling within the hour.

She’d been told since she was old enough to understand that she was beautiful. Like it meant something important. Like it would give her a choice between a husband with a kind soul or a corrupt one.

For the lucky, beauty got you a larger house to clean and maybe a house full of beautiful children. For her, beauty would be an end. The end.

She was newly eighteen, but she still felt so much like a child. Far too young for what was expected of her. Her naked body, covered in constellations of freckles, goose fleshed and covered in the dark remnants of her copious locks, memories of braids and pigtails and innocence. It felt wrong to curl and primp for a man older than her own father, no matter how many might have coveted the position. Though decorating herself for the day’s final end did seem to amuse her, she wanted his disappointment of her to be profound, not just in their marriage bed, but as soon as he lifted her veil. So, she had brought out the scissors. She wasn’t a girl any longer, and her hair had no purpose as it had served her beauty with ultimate betrayal.

She couldn’t abide traitors.

She watched detached, as she brushed the thick dead clumps that covered her breasts and skimmed her belly, and clung to the hair on her pubis. She brushed it away absently at first, but she found her senses heightened by her nudity and the stimulation of her falling hair. She slid her fingers against her clitoris, smiling at the rush of arousal, and realized that she would miss this. Sexual thoughts were taboo, and unless you had the express consent of your husband, self-gratification was punishable by a life married to Christ, sequestered with the rest of the girls who would never be accused of keeping their hands to themselves.

Naturally, Shula was quite adept with masturbation once she’d discovered her clitoris, and once she’d heard about the sacrament of virginity, she’d tried out every vegetable from the garden. She’d tried candlesticks, her fingers, and even the hilt of a very large kitchen knife, though the horsewhip was her favorite.

She would miss it all. James Agnesson ruined everything.

Earlier in the week, when James had come calling, and he had sampled the food she had prepared for him, she would have poisoned him had she known. As it was, her hatred grew for him, rather than their situation, and her plans for their wedding and honeymoon became quite morbid. She found that her future groom’s frustration wouldn’t be nearly enough, nor her lack of hymen. He would not have the gift of her purity, nor the proof of it, nor would any man now, because even imagining his realization as he’s rutting inside her didn’t bring her pleasure as it had when she imagined it was his son, Jared. She didn’t want to just ruin his day. She wanted to ruin him. For Jared, his confusion would have been satisfactory enough, but for his father…death was preferable than having him touch her.

The day had come, and a more wretched ending was born. She would not have the honor of seeing his face when he gazed upon her in their marriage bed, but like all charity, it’s best not to be selfish in your giving. She would strive for humbleness, because martyrdom wasn’t effective without a captive audience.

Her mother had probably taught her a great many things, the domesticities of their gender notwithstanding, and she’d taken almost all of it for granted. The one thing that she’d always remember though, was the most profane: Sometimes suicide and the Seventh Circle of Hell were a far desired fate if the alternative was life and all the Circles combined.

Today was that day. Her wedding day. Tonight, she would excuse herself early, and he would surely allow it. Women, for she was a woman now, needed time to prepare for bed. To ready themselves for their husbands and their pleasure.

She would pull down the coverlet, open the cigarette case, and fashion a distorted crucifix with her mother’s ashes and the water from the traditional roses she was sure to be beside the bed. She would lie down in the center of bed, pull the razor from the cigarette case and slit both wrists quickly and efficiently. She would spread her arms wide.

It was pure drama, but if one gets to choose their passing, make it memorable.

Make a fucking point.

Her only regret was that she was sure her father wouldn’t see. James was sure to cover it up somehow, the drama of it, even though he’d have no scruples relaying the slit wrists.

Her father would probably never see her bled out on her mother’s ashes and she hated that. She hated her father even more than James Agnesson. She knew it was wrong, but she was prepared for Hell, so all unspoken sins were at the forefront of her mind.

As it was, since she was choosing, she’d rather have the chance of spending an eternity in Hell with her mother than with the likes of James, no matter how horrible.

She wasn’t sure she believed in Hell of the after death variety anyway, but her mother spared two years for her. Shula would never forget the fight, nor the sound of the gun. Worse yet, she would never forget the sound of her mother hitting the floor, nor of her father’s silence.

And his continued silence.

She hated him.

He was going to give her away to that monster and her mother’s death had been in vain. She would have certainly stayed had she imagined this outcome.

Shula had been betrothed to Jared Agnesson since the day she was born and they were to be wed the day after she turned sixteen. She wasn’t much happy about it, but all the girls got married at that age, and Jared seemed nice enough. He was painfully shy, quiet, and probably handsome, if one considered a boy handsome. He’d not quite caught up with his brothers in stature and Shula wasn’t afraid of him like she was of other newly-made men.

James had told her that Jared had disappeared into the woods after he took the death of Anna, James’ late wife, quite hard, and he had shown no signs of returning and fulfilling his contract, so he had deigned to fulfill it himself.

She wanted to be angry at Jared, but found that she didn’t care. He hadn’t owed her a thing. She could not fault him for escaping when he could. At least he had that option.

Her mother had not wanted it. Shula didn’t quite understand as it was normal for girls to marry, and she couldn’t imagine Jared had offended her mother since he was so silent and awkwardly polite.

The morning of her mother’s death, every muttered curse spoke of Jared’s father, and she didn’t know what that had to do with Jared himself. Shula belatedly realized that her mother hadn’t wanted her involved with the Agnesson family at all, but she was never brave enough to ask her father why. They’d barely spoken these last two years, and she didn’t know what her mother saw in him, unless she didn’t have a choice.

Of course she didn’t have a choice.

But, it must have been something terrible for her to take her own life to prevent a marriage to a harmless boy.

She took comfort that she wouldn’t bleed out on her own bed, her grandmother’s old bed, because she would be moving into James Agnesson’s house, but thankfully she wouldn’t be required to be mother to men who were older than her. Surely, he could see the wrongness of it.

A wrongness she wouldn’t tolerate. Shula was pleased she could still feel relief.

Her betrothal to Jared had still been under contract, but the death of a mother, by Law, would postpone any such commitments until she reached majority. Her contract was amended, and signed by both her father and James one day before her eighteenth birthday, replacing the son with the father. If she would have known at dinner before, none would have left the table alive.

That was three days ago, and Shula can’t imagine why it isn’t a scandal. She was appalled when he had married Anna, as they had been close in age and grew up in church together. Shula would be his third. The mother of the five boys: Jacob, Jonah, Josiah, Jared, and Jude, had died during childbirth, and James Agnesson had married Anna, newly sixteen, and she died last year of an apparent suicide. Anna had been the same age as Jude.

The rumor was that Jude had found her in her bed, and that was all Shula had heard about it.

Shula could guess, but that made her feel smug, and she wondered if that even scratched the surface of what her mother might’ve known. Her mother knew something, and her father knew it too, but curious as she was, she’d rather die than know, unless she could find out today.

Two suicides in two years, especially after his last wife’s sudden death, should bring about a much more intense scrutiny. There was a reason her mother hadn’t wanted her in his house, and it had been worth her life. Shula had not forgotten that.

She was relieved in a way. She was lonely, but trusted no one, and it was a scary existence.

She watched herself in the mirror as she touched herself expertly. She always had philosophical thoughts on sin. She liked to list them in her head from ones she deemed not so bad to the worst ones, like cruelty and complacency. She didn’t understand how this God-given pleasure was only a means to tempt and trap.

As a woman, she wasn’t allowed to read The Bible. Only the men were allowed, and it was up to them to explain their sinful natures to them. Sometimes Shula would sneak a few paragraphs when she cleaned her father’s room, if he had it out of the locked trunk. It was paragraphs and paragraphs of confusion, and she would turn the pages quickly, looking for the list of sins that would seem an obvious addition. She never found them.

So, she compiled them in her head. Sins, taxonomy of.

She would write them down, but she hoped that her corpse would display his deepest sins and eat at James Agnesson the way God’s disappointment was supposed to.

After Shula brought herself off, she took a few deep breaths and grabbed the broom behind the door. She swept up the remnants of her youth and the death of it, and when she was finished, she looked toward the dress hanging on the hook on the door.

Her mother’s beautiful, meaningless frock, yellowed with age, and smelling of decay and mothballs. The lace was matted with cobwebs and even blotting it with a washcloth thickened the strands.

She fished out her father’s scissors and snipped the lace from the bodice, eyeing the netting of the veil briefly, knowing it would cover her thoroughly, until it was lifted.

The lace lifted easily and she dropped it carelessly into the trash. She pulled the dress over her head, slipping it onto her naked body, mindful of her mother’s ashes. It was a little too snug, but she knew it would give just a little as the day went on.

She stepped up to the mirror and she still looked terribly young. Even with her neutered hair, and her darkened eyes, and low bodice, she still looked much too young.

It was a tragedy.

The only thing that kept her tears at bay was that this was what James Agnesson would see when he lifted her veil.

He would see who he’d chosen to be his wife.

Shula affixed the veil to her head and covered her face and chest. She grabbed her purse and suitcase, and walked it to the front door where her father was waiting. He opened the door without a word, and led them to the car. The veil was sheer enough for her to see images, and the haze of black from the ashes made the sky look like rain.

Jared Agnesson sat heavily on the front steps of his tiny cabin. He was going to need to build a fence and get a dog. Maybe several of the doberman variety.

He held up the cream-colored envelope that he had found under his feet when he stepped out the door that morning.

Jared Agnesson

He knew what was inside. His father had been threatening it before Anna’s body had been cold to keep Jared under control. His father wanted him to take over the farm, but Jared had a knack for computers. So, he had sought work in the city, independent of his father, but every job or apprenticeship ended up dead.

Luckily, Jared had the foresight to move his trust fund when he turned eighteen to an international bank in the city, one who hadn’t heard of James Agnesson, or if they had, they hadn’t cared. Jared would have enough money indefinitely if he wasn’t foolish. And his current project was lucrative, but he had to be doubly careful.

He inherited a piece of land adjacent to his father’s ranch with the bones of a hunting lodge hidden by the trees. His father spent equal time at the ranch and in the city, but Jared knew Agnes Oaks inside out, so he felt he could hide more effectively in plain sight rather than a city where he would be constantly looking over his shoulder. He’d underestimated his father. The only way to be truly free of him was death, or to find a way to leave Texas, but Texas only granted visas for work. They were temporary, not for families, and never for women.

If you were born here, you died here, and the fate of the women depended on the kindness of their husbands.

Jared wanted to be kind. It took him several months, but he’d built paradise, and he’d wondered if his future bride would like it. But, he didn’t allow himself to wonder for long. He enjoyed deluding himself on occasion. It was safe out in the woods.

As much as he’d wanted Shula Kelley, as much as he’d always known that she was intended for him, he knew that his father would eventually take her from him. The same way he took Anna, and she had only been his friend from church. His father hated their closeness, never trusted it, and he’d left her because his father had become increasingly nasty towards her.

A week later, he’d found out that she’d died. Jared had to think.

His reach was far and wide, and Jared had to be smart. But, now it seemed too late.

His brothers were too complacent and stayed away, moving their families to the city to represent various family businesses. Their father’s fingers were dipped into trade all over the state of Texas, from banking and real estate, to agriculture and energy. Education and evangelism. Jacob and Jonah managed the bank branches from the Austin-San Antonio Metroplex, to one hundred miles east of Agnes Oaks, with smaller branches all over the state, independently managed. Josiah was in real estate, and was rather successful at it.

They had already moved out when Anna came to live with them. Only Jude had remained. He was the one who had found Anna, and avoided everyone anymore. Jared was fairly sure that Jude will be the one running the farm. So long as his father didn’t find out–

His father had eyes and ears everywhere, was highly respected, but there was a quiet cruelty in his every step that made people cautious around him. He believed it was power, and maybe it was, but Jared had no need for that sort of sway.

He wanted better. He wanted a life without fear for the people around him.

So, he would go. He would dress in his Sunday’s best, and try to meet Shula’s eyes, and hope that he could relay in that glance that he would do anything in his power to save her from him.

She would have to be patient and he would have to be strong.

 

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AP - about the author.jpg

 

Arden Aoide lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and three cats. Turn ons include men who cry during sex, long walks on the beach, and talking about herself in the third person. Turn offs include mean people and trying to figure out how to write an interesting author bio.

She doesn’t write about the typical men you normally read about in erotic romance novels. She likes her men brainy and just this side of manic.

She’s an introvert, she loves coffee, Internet, British television, and pot stickers. And pie. She loves pie.

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Goodreads Amazon page  Instagram

 

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*Book Review* ~Saved By Her~ by Michelle Horst!

Saved By Her

(The Monster Series Book 1)

by: Michelle Horst

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Authors Note and WARNING:
Monster is a work of fiction intended for adult readers above 18. It contains dark and sensitive subject matter that may make readers uncomfortable. Contains explicit language and descriptions of sexual situations.

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Blurb!
e95c417530c7ec7c287509b3b6ac528e[1]
Jack
I F**K.
That’s all I do, all I’m good for.
People pay thousands just to have a taste of me.
It’s the only life I’ve ever known.
… until her.

River

I work.
That’s all I do, it’s my safe zone.
I get paid well because I’m good at my job.
It’s the only place I feel in control.
… until him.

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BUY LINKS!
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Add the book!
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TEASERS!
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BUY IT!
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Syrina’s ✩✩✩✩✩ Review!

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Beautiful Dark Souls: BBF’s/BGF’s

352f1c28ea7848541b62cb75b8f242e5[1]  4eedc93ef7522212c54c42b4f9077737[1]

Jack was simply amazing, the brightest true hero I have ever read about, never ever strayed from his path to serve, protect, and love his brother for years. My heart bleed and shriveled up to nothing for the injustice and betrayal this man received. To see him rise above in all his glory to fight back, find himself, and seek revenge in the most satisfying way left me absolutely captivated.

86412f21edc31b2c4654c1f27b706c22[1]

The impact River, the true heroine in this tale, tries and succeeds in bringing awareness for the atrocious acts of human abuse in the slave trade.  This opens our eyes and it will forever haunt us all and maybe, just maybe heal a few souls and cause a ripple effect to help put monsters forever to rest in purgatory.

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Mind Benders/Twists 

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I adored this wonderful story packed full of emotion. A tale of self discovery, redemption, and vengeance! I swear 2 pages in and I have filthy fat tears plopping all over, just emotional overload, everything from laughter to pure horror.

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PICK IT UP AND ADD IT NOW!
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thank you butterflies
happy reading

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