FREE BOOK Weekend

 

Exciting News!

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Getting Tackled
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Hard Ball
http://authl.it/2q5?d

#700pages ready to be added to your

Summer Reading list!!!

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Book Trailer

 

 

~~ Release Blast ~~ PURSUIT by Fiona Davenport!

Pursuit

Mafia Ties

#4

Fiona Davenport

Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance

*This is part 4 in a series, but

these books standalone from books 1-3*

 

     

Available on Kindle Unlimited

PURCHASE LINKS:

BLURB:

Brandon DeLuca’s relentless

pursuit of Carly O’Reilly after she flees New York isn’t really due to the

orders of his mafia boss cousin. The feisty redhead is his, and he’s done trying

to pretend otherwise. Now that he’s admitted the truth to himself, he just

needs to convince her to put her life in his hands—and her body in his bed.

Please note: Brandon &

Carly’s romance is a three-part story, but there are no relationship cliffhangers.

    

REVIEW

(Review here, if reviewing)

EXCERPT

I sat in my car and stared at the quiet, unassuming house

across the little residential street. It was dark, the inhabitants out for the

night or already in bed. I happened to know it was the latter. After a couple

of months of searching, I’d finally caught up to my target and I wasn’t about

to let her get away again.

Still, I continued to sit there and watch, taking no action.

I told myself I was simply being cautious; I didn’t need any more trouble. But,

Nic had asked me to keep her safe. I was obligated. It was my job. It was

complete and utter bullshit, that’s what it was.

The phone I was holding up to my ear began ringing, and I

waited until the recipient picked up.

“Brandon?” Nic answered, his question implied.

“I found her.”

“Great. I’ll send—”

“No!” I snapped, cutting him off and shocking the fuck out

of myself. “She’s mine.”

 

OTHER BOOKS BY FIONA DAVENPORT

**All books available on Kindle Unlimited**

Fiona’s Steamy Starts (only 99 CENTS for a limited time!)

Penalty Clause, Baby, You’re Mine, &

Deception

Amazon US → http://amzn.to/29alet8

Amazon UK → http://amzn.to/2912sQi

Risqué Contracts Series Box Set

Penalty Clause, Contingency Plan & Fraternization Rule

 

Yeah, Baby Series Box Set

Baby, You’re Mine, Baby Steps & Baby, Don’t Go

Until

Death Do We Part

A

Sex & Vows Novel

Amazon

US → http://amzn.to/29amiNY

Amazon

UK → http://amzn.to/1TNGUZe

Mafia

Ties Books 1-3

Deception

Amazon

US → http://amzn.to/296dAOw

Amazon

UK → http://amzn.to/ 1TewiFY

Danger

Amazon

US → http://amzn.to/296dFBL

Amazon

UK → http://amzn.to/1TewoND

Devotion

Amazon

US → http://amzn.to/291yhMH

Amazon

UK → http://amzn.to/1U2yDRe

 

ABOUT FIONA DAVENPORT

    

Hello! My name is Fiona

Davenport and I’m a smutoholic. I’ve been reading raunchy romance novels

since… well, forever and a day ago it seems. And now I get to write sexy

stories and share them with others who are like me and enjoy their books on the

steamier side. Fiona Davenport is my super-secret alias, which is kind of

awesome since I’ve always wanted one.

 

AUTHOR LINKS:

     

 

** Release Day Blitz – Sweet Alibi by Adriane Leigh **

 

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

 iBooks  iBooks UK  iBooks AU  Nook  

 

 

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From USA Today Bestselling author Adriane Leigh comes a passionate contemporary romance about giving in to desire so sharp and sweet it threatens to consume…

 

Georgia Montgomery is desperate for an escape from the life she’s been leading. The perfect job, the perfect apartment, the perfect boyfriend—all are on the cusp of driving her over the edge. On a whim, she buys a beach house on the North Carolina coast, eager to spend a summer with her college friends. She thinks she’s found the perfect balance, until one pleasure-seeking playboy turns her world on its axis. Georgia tries to ignore the tornado of emotion that sweeps through her system whenever Tristan Howell is near, but just like an addiction, one look, one taste, one touch is never enough.

 

The chemistry is scorching and it isn’t long before the slow burn ignites into a full-blown wildfire that threatens to consume anything in its path. But Georgia and Tristan can’t shelter their love from the outside world, and the moments of exquisite passion they share aren’t enough to sustain the relationship. When scars from the past resurface–will their hearts meld together as one? Or will outside forces tear them apart, leaving an empty shell where love and passion once thrived?

 

*Note: The characters in Sweet Alibi are real and flawed–they make bad decisions and learn hard lessons. It contains a love triangle, a sweet alpha-male with a broken heart, and a leading lady that doesn’t always know what she wants. If you love a character-driven romance with a hard-fought happily-ever-after, Sweet Alibi is for you. (Formerly published as The Morning After and Light in Morning duet, now with more than 10,000 words of never-before-published BONUS content!

 

 

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Gavin tossed my heavy duffel bag and I caught it just before it slammed into my chest.

    “Shithead,” I grumbled as he led the way up the beach house stairs. He hustled, taking the steps two at a time. I knew he was anxious to see Drew. A few days was the longest they’d been apart in their short relationship and from the way he talked you’d think his dick was about to fall off from lack of use. I only hoped their room was out of earshot of mine.

    Gavin knocked on the door and then stepped in. I heard footsteps pounding on wooden floors and then was blindsided when the petite form of Drew launched into Gavin. An oomph escaped his lungs before their lips connected and I heard wet tongues and small moans.

    “Seriously?” I said with a grunt. Gavin’s hands were already firmly gripping her ass and Drew’s were tugging and twisting in his hair.

    Please, dear God let their room be across the house from mine. If I had to listen to them all summer I would be spending a lot of time on my boat.

    I watched them all but hump each other in front of me before I sensed someone else enter the room. My eyes dragged across the open kitchen to land on a pair of deep brown ones watching the couple in front of me. My mind registered someone standing next to her but I couldn’t be bothered to look. All I saw was long, brown hair thrown back in a messy ponytail, stray tendrils dusting her cheekbones and curling around her neck. Her full lips were curved in a frown as she watched the couple making out in the middle of the room.

    I grinned because I knew already this summer was going to be interesting to say the least.

    Not only would I have to contend with the Gavin-Drew fuck fest that was sure to commence as of today, but I’d be living under the same roof as this beautiful creature all summer. Somehow it had escaped me that the girl who owned the beach house was a knockout. No wonder Gavin had given me the rundown on steering clear of her before we arrived. No man in his fucking mind could stay away from this girl.

    Fuck him.

    Fuck me.

    Why had he said she was hands off this summer?

    I could see right now this girl was anything but average. I knew with one glance she wasn’t the type that wore her dresses a few inches too short and fuck-me heels that begged to be wrapped around my neck.

     There was something about her. Something that said she was…more. More everything. She had more depth. More sensuality. An unassuming beauty. She was stunning and she didn’t even know it.

“I’m Georgia,” she introduced herself with a handshake.

     The grin grew wide on my face. I offered her my name and then addressed the couple dry humping beside me. We exchanged a few words and then she laughed, the tone low, an amused smile lifting her lips. The beautiful lips that I wanted to run the pad of my thumb along right before I pressed mine to hers. Fuck she was beautiful and I was getting hard just thinking of all the things we could do together without our clothes on.

 

 

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

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

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

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon author page Instagram

 

 

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~ Release Day Blitz – Disgrace by Dee Palmer ~

 

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  Nook  Kobo  iBooks

 

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I shamed my name. I am a whore. I am a disgrace. I’m all the things my mother made me. I wear my badge with pride because I know the truth, and only those worth a damn see me for who I am, not the label I choose to hide behind.

I am a Domme. I would still rather be a whore than a hypocrite like my mother, or a victim like the daughter she raised me to be.

As Mistress Selina, I can bring a grown man to his knees without so much as a crack of my handmade whip. I love the power and control—what’s not to love? I must be mad to even consider Dominant club owner and King of Kink Jason Sinclair’s proposition.

Two Doms don’t make a right.

Self-preservation has kept me at a safe distance from the one man who could change all that. The only man who wields power like a sensual sword and keeps me balanced on that knife’s edge. My choice is simple: He wants me to switch for him. But if I do, will I bleed or will I fall?

 

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Yes…the wedding. What is it about weddings?’ He muses.

“I’m not sure it had anything to do with it being a wedding.” I laugh lightly.

“No…You might be right. It had much more to do with you looking hot as hell, a convenient store cupboard and a lockable door.” He tips his glass and nods for a refill. I do the same suddenly feeling I need the liquid courage to play with the inferno sitting next to me. “After though…You didn’t return my call?” His gaze darkens.

“That would be because there would be no point.” I quickly down the sweet coffee liqueur and mouth a large ice cube, I take my time playing with it in my mouth. Relishing the effect I am now having on the implacable Mr Sinclair. He swallows thickly, his eyes never leaving my mouth. I know I am playing with fire but it feels so good.

“And why is that?” His casual tone betrays the heat in his eyes and the intensity of his glare. “Did you not have fun…because I seem to recall you had a great deal of fun.”  He leans forward and pushes his hands between my legs and grabs the edge of the bar stool. My legs spread of their on volition just enough before I try to rectify their wanton error. Clamping tight against his wrist he pulls  my seat closer to him. His muscular thighs trap me, his hand wedged between my legs, heavy lidded eyes bore into me with a fierceness that burns through my veins like wildfire. His thumb languidly stroking my inner thigh.

I take a moment, relish the utter pleasure these strange erotic feelings coursing through me evoke. My heart is beating a hypnotic pattern in my chest, hard and fierce. I am acutely aware the precarious balance of control that I hold so dear begin to slip. I feel the shift like a physical change and it is alarmingly seductive how natural it feels to give over to someone so absolutely Dominant as Jason…It is too seductive. I raises a brow, my calm facade, a mask to my traitorous emotions. I use the tips of my fingers to pick up the remaining ice cube from my glass, I quickly palm it and stretch out to hold it flat and hard against Jason’s rock solid erection. The ice water socking his trousers but not diminishing the heat in my palm one bit.

“Fuck Sam!” He barks out but doesn’t move, if anything he grinds into my hand and releases a deep moan. I can’t help laugh, that was not the reaction I was anticipating but then I should’ve known he wasn’t likely to run. He was much more likely to rise to the challenge he obviously thinks I am.

“Jason.” I sigh reluctantly removing my hand. “Two Doms don’t make a right. We would not play well together. The wedding was an exception… I will give you that it was an amazing exception but-”

“But nothing.” He growls his interruption.

“See that is exactly why I didn’t return your call. I’m not one of your little submissives Jason and you sure as shit aren’t going to kneel for me anytime soon…although…” My index finger lightly taps my lips which carve a wicked grin at the very notion.

“Yeah keep dreaming beautiful, because that is all that’s ever going to be.” He sniffs derisively but his eyes narrow while he slowly sips his drink. “But you weren’t always a Domme Selina?” His serious tone and leading question instantly kills my flirtatious mood.

“Oh you have been busy.” I straighten myself creating a cool noticeable distance.

“Daniel was just as much my wing man as I was his before Bethany and you know that. I’m not being intrusive. I am stating a fact. You weren’t always a Domme.” His dismissive tone is doing little to calm my irritation.

“I doubt Daniel would’ve disclosed any details but if he did he would’ve informed you it was one time and it was the very last part of my training. My instructor insisted I understand both ends of the whip as it were.” I clarify stiffly.

“Quite right too-” He nods in agreement.

“But that doesn’t make me a sub Jason.”

“No Samantha it doesn’t but you enjoyed it so that does in fact make you a switch.” His gaze seems to sear right through me with fire and so much desire I am starting to melt. What exactly I am struggling with? Is it that I actually like the turn this conversation is heading. No…I can’t… I can’t let it go there.

“And your point is?” My attempt at annoyance seems to amuse him. He moves his hand from his drink to lightly pinch my chin making sure he holds my eye contact. Not that I could look anywhere else…not that I’d want to.

“My point Selina… is I want you to switch for me.” His lethal glare scorches my breath from my lungs as I let out an inaudible gasp. “So tell me Selina, what is it going to take?” His assured cockiness is interrupted by my incredulous laugh.

“Oh Jason…that is sweet and I’m flattered, really I am.” His instant scowl darkens at my flippancy and condescending tone.

“What is it about me that your think is sweet exactly?…Do I look like a man that doesn’t get everything he wants?”  He slips his hand around the back of my head and grabs a tight hold of my long sleek pony tail. I don’t flinch but my heart does feel like it is trying to beat its way through my chest.

“Do I?” I retort and hold his fiery gaze.

“Damnit Selina…you most definitely do not look like a man.” He sniffs out a laugh and his lips bite back a grin. “Give me one day.” He pauses to let the words sink in but the evident confusion must be etched on my face  because it makes him clarify further. “Give me one day to change your mind. Spend the whole day with me and if I can’t convince you to submit to me…then…”

“Then?” I tip my chin for his answer but my movement is still restricted by his hold.

“Then it will be the first time I do not get what I want.” He grumbles and I laugh loudly shaking free from his grip.

“And if I do agree to submit… it will be a miracle.” I taunt.

He stands stepping into my personal space, putting pressure enough to widen my legs to accommodate him just that little bit closer. “I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning.” He leans down, his words kiss my neck like a tempting promise.

“Tomorrow? It’s Christmas Day?” I sag a little when he moves away, fighting the moan at his sudden loss of heat.

“Perfect day for a miracle.” He pauses at the doorway, holding my gaze for long seconds before stepping through the curtain leaving me a mess of heat and confus

 

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One lucky person will win a Buckley (London) “Air” necklace and earrings.

 

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Rafflecopter giveaway.

 

http://bit.ly/1OThzZS

 

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Dee Palmer hates talking about herself in the third person so I won’t. My husband had my iPod engraved one Christmas with ‘sing like no-one’s listening’ and I know my family actually wish they weren’t listening because I am, in fact, tone deaf but it doesn’t stop me and this gentle support has enabled me to fulfil a dream. This has been a truly brilliant experience, I wrote The Choices Trilogy back to back and released them this year just one month apart…Don’t you hate waiting for the next book in a series? The entire process has undoubtedly been made possible by my incredibly supportive family. I know this is very much an acknowledgment but I know I wouldn’t be writing even this single paragraph if it wasn’t for them so this is about who I am, I am because they let me be.

Author Links

Web  Twitter  Facebook  Instagram Amazon Page Goodreads

 

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BLOG TOUR!! ~*~ THE DOM GAMES! ~*~ by Rachel Robinson!

dom games book tour

Title: The Dom Games
Author: Rachel Robinson
Category: Contemporary Romance-BDSM
POV: Dual

Releases: OUT NOW!

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dom games now available

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Ten submissive women. One billionaire dominant. Three months competing for his “affections.”
One winner takes all.

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NOW LIVE!  

Amazon US:  http://amzn.to/27ep4G0

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1ZG6Oje

iBooks: http://apple.co/1XlE28Y

Nook: http://bit.ly/1TBc2IW

Kobo: http://bit.ly/27hamhJ

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Dominic Reed, heir to an oil fortune, has spent his entire adult life perfecting his dark hobby. With little control in every other area of his manicured life, he finds his release as a dominant. With more money than he knows what to do with, he creates a TV show: The Dom Games.

This year is different than the past seasons, this year Dominic will be the star. He wants a forever submissive.

Before last month Kayla Parchet thought the word submissive only referred to dogs. Fresh out of college with a business degree that is scrap paper, she needs to get an Ivy League masters degree to pursue her dreams. When Kayla is accepted to be one of the ten, her world takes a dark turn as she competes against women who live the submissive lifestyle for enjoyment. Can she hold on to her dreams long enough to win the competition and ten million dollars? Or will she get sucked into Dominic’s twisted world?

Only a few whips and canes stand between Kayla and the future she’s always desired.

Lights, camera, sex…

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Perfect womans body

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“Are you ready?” I ask, placing my palm on her sweaty stomach. She’s so petite that my hand spans her entire stomach. It rises and falls with each deep breath she takes. This power I feel right now is utter heaven. She’s mine in every way possible, and no one can deny it. Fury of possession and lust hit me. I don’t want to hold back any longer.

Kayla nods. Gritting my teeth, I unfasten her gag and pull it away with a long strand of spit connecting it to her mouth. Her lips part and close a few times as she adjusts to the new sensation.

Lips. They’re such innocuous things in real life. They speak, and laugh. They kiss babies, and are responsible for filtering or not filtering every word you ever speak. In my world, this world, they’re the most erotic, beautiful, stunning part of a person. Lips praise. They suck and kiss and worship my body. Kayla’s lips worship me. I am obsessed with lips, but especially hers right now because I know that this isn’t her life, nor is it something she would pick for herself, yet her lips are asking me for more. Words passing her lips about how good I feel, how wet she is, thanking me for filling her with a vibrating dildo. It’s uncomplicated in here. She obeys. She wants more.

Removing the gag does give me pause, because she could potentially say something un-sub like and ruin the scene, but at this point I wouldn’t even care, I’ll still fuck her. My cock is heavy and dripping with pre-come. I glance at the large, digital clock to my right to make sure my timing is on par and catch sight of the crew.

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The Dom Games by Rachel Robinson from Bibliophile Productions on Vimeo.

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rachel robinson

Rachel grew up in a small, quiet town full of loud talkers. Her words were always only loud on paper. She has been writing stories and creating characters for as long as she can remember. After living on the west coast for many years she recently moved to Virginia Beach, VA.

Stalk Rachel here:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Goodreads

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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happy reading

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BLOG TOUR! ✩✩ One Last Fling ✩✩ by

One Last Fling

Leela Lou Dahlin

Blurb

Event planner Daisy Maxwell has never been lucky at love,

but her family’s financial issues convince her to toss her hat in the ring to

be the Billionaire’s Bride. If all else fails, she figures she at least has a

shot at planning the winner’s wedding. She never expects to meet a man—the

wrong man—at the first event, a sexy chef who charms her and makes her believe

there’s love at first bite.

 

Chef Ryder Blake has a problem…well, two. First, he’s met

the most amazing woman at the best but worst time of his life. Daisy is a

morsel of sexy and sweet all rolled into one dynamite package he’d love to

sample. But his second issue is a little more complicated… He can’t tell

Daisy—or anyone—he’s the secret billionaire seeking a bride before his

thirtieth birthday or he’ll lose his inheritance. Daisy is definitely bride

material, but he’s not sure he’ll survive the pressure, especially after she

proposes one last fling before she plans to say “I do.”

Buy The Book

About The Author

At the age of 9 Leela

Lou Dahlin started reading the romance novels her grandmother left around the

house during her summer vacations. She learned early that she enjoyed the type

of story that could make you feel like you had fluttering butterflies in your

stomach and bring tears to your eyes. Leela tries to create the emotional and

endearing stories she adored as a child and continues to love to this day.

She resides in SW

Pennsylvania working as a RN Case Manager during the day and spinning her

sweetly sexy stories by night.

You can also find her

blogging over at Nice Girls Writing Naughty

Connect with Leela

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Amazon

Brought to you by

RELEASE BLITZ! ~*~ Red Velvet ~*~ by Tess Oliver & Anna Hart

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Synopsis

“There’s a fine line between reality and fantasy and all it takes is the right amount of desire to cross that line.” ~Coco, owner of the Silk Stocking Inn

An erotic confection from bestselling authors Tess Oliver & Anna Hart.

Jessi has it all, success, money and a corner office with a view. The only thing she doesn’t have is the right man. But when a wrong turn lands her at the welcome mat of the Silk Stocking Inn, and in the arms of hot handyman, Grayson, Jessi’s well-planned life is turned upside down . . . both in and out of bed.

Jessi is about to get a tasty sample of love, erotic fantasies and red velvet cupcakes.

Red Velvet is a standalone book and the first installation of the sexy Silk Stocking Inn series.

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Amazon US I Amazon UK

Teaser

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Excerpt

I stepped into the water. Teeny, opalescent bubbles floated up as my body sank down into the lavender scented water. I put the blindfold over my head and pulled it down over my eyes. My elbow hit the bar of soap resting on the edge of the tub. It thudded on the floor. I was too cozy in my bubble quilt to reach for it.

The tub was designed perfectly for reclining. I relaxed back with a long sigh.

A rush of cool air ushered inside the bathroom and footsteps plodded over the tile floor. Coco returning with the towels, I decided.

“Coco, I think I just invented a new type of sigh. It’s one that goes perfectly with the act of melting one’s body into a splendid tub of warm water.” I repeated the sound, and it swished around the room like a lost whisper. “Thank you so much for this. If you don’t see me in the morning, you’ll find me still sitting beneath the bubbles. You can just leave the towels. If it’s not too much trouble, could you retrieve the bar of soap? I knocked it off the edge.”

Footsteps tapped the tile as Coco neared the bath. I was growing drowsy behind the blindfold as I lazily lifted my hand above the bubbles. Surprisingly callused fingertips grazed my palm as the soap landed on my hand.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The deep voice echoed off the walls and sent me upright.

I yanked off the blindfold and was staring at a faded pair of jeans. The bulge in front assured me of what my terror-filled mind had already surmised. Coco wasn’t the second person in the room.

I peered up at the impossibly tall man. His broad shoulders cast a giant shadow over the tub. His dark blue eyes stared down at me, more specifically at my breasts, which I’d now revealed by sitting straight up out of my bubble cloak.

I sank back down into the water. “I don’t know how you got in here, but—”

“Came in through the door, and I heartily approve of the new type of sigh. Works well in this context.” He stooped down next to the tub with a crooked smile that could only be described as a knee wobbler, a term Cara and I had come up with for a man whose smile caused a woman’s knees to turn to jelly. The rest of his face went well with the smile.

His hand curled around the edge of the bath. I scooted away, which was comical considering I could only move about two inches before coming up against the far side of the tub.

“Coco sent me up here with the towels.” He inclined his head toward the vanity where he’d placed the towels. He made no attempt at hiding the fact that he was staring down into the bubbles.

“Thank you for the towels. Now please get out.”

He didn’t move. His smile pushed a nice crease alongside his mouth that only added to its appeal. His eyes were a dark blue, framed by thick black lashes. Dark brown hair was just messy and long enough to make me take a long, steadying breath. The hair curled up nicely on the collar of his flannel shirt. For a brief, scandalous moment, I imagined running my hand through his thick head of hair.

My uninvited bath guest rested his chin on the edge of the tub, bringing his face even with mine. One foot closer and our mouths would be pushed together.

“Are you always this uptight when you’re soaking in a bubble bath?” he asked.

“Only when I have a big, intimidating stranger hanging on the edge of the tub.”

“I can’t do anything about the big, or intimidating”—he raised a brow about that assessment—“but—” He stuck out his hand. It was huge and looked as if it could wield a hammer as well as it could finger me into a raging orgasm. Whoa, where the heck did that erotic thought come from? Must have been the sugar high and the heady scent of lavender. The gorgeous man staring at me didn’t hurt either.

“I’m Grayson.”

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AboutTheAuthor

Tess Oliver

Tess Oliver is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Freefall.

She is a former teacher, who now dedicates her morning caffeine rush to writing romance instead of teaching math and reading. Tess lives in California, the land of perpetual sunshine and traffic, with her husband, kids and five dogs. She is a longtime romance junkie, who likes her hero to be an alpha with a twist of compassion and if he has long hair and rides a horse or a motorcycle all the better. She writes young adult, new adult and adult romance in both contemporary and historical settings. When she’s not reading or writing romance, she can be found hiking, vacuuming up dog hair or baking goodies for her family.

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Anna Hart

Anna Hart is the author of the sexy new romance series, Stepbrother Cowboy and Stepbrother Fighter. She writes edgy romances that are filled with bad boys, alpha males and plenty of steam.

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CHAPTER REVEAL! ** Possess ** by Kaye Blue


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Expected Publication April 27, 2016

 

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No weakness.

Maxim has stayed alive—and on top—for twenty years through a ruthless combination of brains and brutality. He’s grown the Syndicate into one of the world’s most powerful criminal enterprises.

He cares for no one.

Except her.

The woman he never should have saved…the one who holds the remnants of his long-dead heart.

No limits.

Senna doesn’t know why Maxim spared her all those years ago, or why he’s kept her by his side. But she does know that nothing—not his beautiful cruelty, not the black void where his heart should be—can stop her from loving him. Wanting him.

Even though she shouldn’t.

No turning back.

Years of obsession sharpen to a knife’s edge when Senna begins to crave her freedom. And when an old rival discovers her existence, Maxim must fight to keep her alive, even as he battles his need to possess her completely…no matter the cost.

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Prologue

Ten Years Ago…

He stepped over the first body, careful to avoid the blood that pooled around it.

It was best not to make a mess, but as he looked around the room, his disgust rising with every passing second, he was reminded that the man who had come here before him not only had no concerns about making a mess, he reveled in doing so.

He looked around the room again, his face muscles twisting with his displeasure at what he saw. A small, tidy family room, pictures on the wall, a TV in one corner. The TV still played, but the screen was dimmed by the splattered blood that covered it.

He moved deeper into the house and maneuvered around the woman who lay in the middle of the floor.

He didn’t have to look closely to know that she, like the man at the door, was dead, so after a brief glimpse at her stiff, glassy-eyed face, he turned his attention to the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Get out here, you little bitch!”

He face muscles twisting even more, he focused on the man who had bellowed those words in a voice that vibrated with rage, menace, and more than a hint of excitement.

Santo Carmelli had centered himself in the narrow hallway, blocking any chance of exit. He was also frothing at the mouth, his entire body seeming to expand with rage—and anticipation—with each breath he took.

No different than usual, except now that Santo had had a taste of the violence he seemed to feed on, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d had his fill. And when Santo was like this, the two he’d already killed wouldn’t be nearly enough.

“No more, Santo. Let’s go,” Maxim said, keeping his voice calm, disinterested, and not letting his irritation come through, difficult as it was to hide it.

If Santo heard, he gave no indication, too far gone in the bloodlust that made him so valued by his superiors and such a pain in Maxim’s ass.

Santo let out an animalistic growl and began stomping down the hallway, uncaring of the gore that coated his shoes and hands.

Maxim didn’t follow immediately, and instead debated whether he should just end this now.

Santo, never a reasonable man, had gotten worse. Much worse. And it always fell on Maxim to clean up his messes, a task Maxim had more than tired of, a task made that much worse by Santo’s sloppiness and his inability to think when he was like this.

Maxim lifted his hand to the small but lethally sharp knife he kept in his waistband.

Finally being rid of Santo would be a relief, and would allow him to focus on more pressing issues. Santo was so distracted it would be easy to get close. Two quick slashes, and one of Maxim’s biggest annoyances and biggest potential rivals would be eliminated.

A tempting prospect, but one Maxim disregarded.

He was close, and all the pieces he needed for his takeover were in place. In a few weeks, the Syndicate would be his.

Then he’d deal with the Santo problem.

Until then…

“Santo,” he said, still calm, tone not betraying how close he’d been to ending Santo’s life.

His voice must have penetrated Santo’s blind rage, for he turned and looked at Maxim.

“Fuck off, Maxim. I’m busy,” he yelled.

“I can see that,” Maxim replied. “Busy and too fucking crazy to do this right. Go now, Santo.”

He shook his head. “No fucking way. She’s back there somewhere trying to hide from me.” As Santo spoke, he glared down the hallway, yelling even louder. Then, he looked back at Maxim, eyes wild with uncontrolled rage. “You think I’m letting this go? That bitch scratched me!” he said, gesturing at the gouges that marked his arms.

Good for her.

Santo probably hadn’t even felt it, but it was good that she’d fought back. Doing so had only pissed Santo off more, and only made Maxim’s already hard job harder, but Maxim didn’t care. A few scratches were nothing, but Maxim would welcome any victory against Santo, no matter how small and symbolic or how much it inconvenienced him.

“I’ll take care of it, Santo,” Maxim said, holding the other man’s gaze.

They were equals in the Syndicate, at least in name, and Maxim had no real authority to give orders, at least not yet. But while Maxim had no official authority over Santo, he had clout, influence, and support that Santo, despite how valued he was by certain members of leadership, did not. And even when he was like this, caught up in his rage and little else, Santo knew that.

Santo’s breath began to smooth out, some of the minuscule reason he had clearing the rage in his eyes.

He finally nodded. “You’re better at this than me anyway. Make it hurt,” he said as he brushed past Maxim and down the hall.

Maxim couldn’t really argue with Santo’s words. He was better, but he wasn’t a mad dog like Santo and he didn’t relish the idea of making someone suffer without good cause, wouldn’t do so simply because Santo had demanded it.

Once Santo was out of the house, Maxim began moving, only barely listening as the others who had entered began to clean the living room, instead focused on the hallway.

Three doors, all partially ajar, darkness spilling out from them.

Two bedrooms and a bathroom, Maxim assumed based on the layout common for houses in this area. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in a place like this, hunting for a person who’d had the misfortune of crossing the Syndicate’s, or Santo’s, path.

A shame, but a part of the job.

Maxim looked down the hall and quickly dismissed the door at the far end. If Maxim was right, and he’d been in this scenario far too many times to be anything else, the person Santo was chasing had planned to slip out behind him as he thrashed through the other rooms. So going to the far door wouldn’t give them the opportunity to get past him.

Which left the second bedroom or bathroom.

Both had merits.

The bedroom offered more places to hide, like the closets people were so fond of. But the bathroom had its own benefits. A window that might serve as an alternate escape, and all kinds of chemicals and cleaners that could do some damage if it came to that.

The scratches on Santo’s arms, the fact that she had gotten away, proved Santo’s prey was a fighter, so Maxim turned into the bathroom and pulled the floral shower curtain aside.

The girl was younger than him, twenty, maybe, and as he’d suspected, clutching a spray bottle of bleach so tightly that her brown fingers were turning white at the knuckles.

Her grip was so tight that it took a moment for her to react, but she did, loosening her hold and then squeezing the nozzle on the spray bottle. Her movements were jerky, panicked, and her aim was off, so the spray flew over Maxim’s shoulder and landed harmlessly behind him.

He glared at her, and her eyes widened but the rest of her body went stiff as she froze in place, staring back at him. Maxim watched her for a moment, two, saw as she debated whether to try to spray him again, saw her fingers twitch around the nozzle as she weighed the consequences of action or inaction.

Saw when she tightened her grip on the bottle.

She met his eyes, and Maxim stared back at her, curious as to what she would do. It felt like the longest time, but in reality it was only seconds. Long enough for Maxim to see that his perception of her as a fighter was true, and long enough for him to tire of their little standoff.

He pried the bottle from her hand and dropped it to the floor, staring at her, considering.

Her eyes were glassy and wet with unshed tears, but tears had long since lost the power to sway him. Maxim couldn’t say for sure if they ever actually had.

He watched her for a moment longer, unmoving. Everything he knew said he should have reached for his knife.

He didn’t.

Instead he grabbed the hand that had been holding the bleach and pulled her out of the shower.

She stared up at him, blinking rapidly, and Maxim could see the beat of her pulse at the base of her throat.

“Are you going to k-kill me?” she asked in a low whisper.

No witnesses. No loose ends. She was both.

The answer was easy.

Yes.

Maxim looked at her eyes again and then shook his head.

“No.”

 

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Kaye writes hot, gritty, suspenseful romance featuring alpha males and the women who love them.

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~*~ DIRTY by Kylie Scott Excerpt Reveal! ~*~

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Excerpt

Heavy footsteps roused me from my stupor. I don’t know how long exactly I’d been sitting in the bathtub, staring off at nothing, pondering the catastrophe my life had become. Couldn’t have been too long since sunlight still lit the room.

The footsteps came closer and closer. And then they entered the room. Oh, shit. I froze, not even daring to breathe. There was a loud yawn, followed by the cracking of joints. Then a large hand reached in beside the closed shower curtain and turned on the tap. A torrent of ice cold water poured down. It was like a billion itty-bitty knives stabbing at my skin. All of the scratches and raw patches from earlier stung like shit. I gritted my teeth, shoulders hiked up to around my ears as if that would provide any protection.

Yep, I sat there, all huddled up, listening to the man take a leak.

Awesome. Just plain awesome.

Wasn’t like I could jump out and interrupt the man midflow. And say what? I knew this was not a good situation to get caught in.

  1. I’d basically broken into this guy’s house.
  2. And had then gone on making myself right at home, having a messy emotional breakdown in his bathtub.

Normal, rational people didn’t do this sort of thing. I didn’t even have a criminal record, had never particularly done anything outlandish or interesting until now. This was all Chris’s fault, the bastard. I’d just have to make the best of it and hope this guy had a sense of humor.

Just as the water began to warm, he flushed the john and freezing cold water drenched me anew. I’d been about to open my mouth and announce my presence, but that put an end to that. Needles of icy cold water pelted down on my skin. I fucking froze. Teeth gritted, I suppressed a squeal of pain and rage.

Then the shower curtain flew back.

“Shit!” The man was very tall, very naked, and very surprised. He stumbled back a step, a hand clutching at the bench behind him, eyes furious and wide. “What the hell?”

Good question.

I opened my mouth, closed it. Language skills had apparently abandoned me. In total silence, the man and I stared at each other.

Even with no clothing to take cues from, the dude was clearly the epitome of cool. He looked about my age, or maybe a little older. He had longish red-blond hair, dark blue eyes set in an angular face, a lean but muscular torso covered in tattoos, and a rather large cock. Not that I meant to check him out, it’s just kind of hard to ignore a penis and scrotum when they’re dangling right in front of your face. I tilted my head, trying to get some perspective. Every viewpoint, however, was equally shocking. There was dick as far as the eye could see.

And I should stop ogling him. Right.

“Hi.” With a calm I didn’t even vaguely feel, I reached up and turned off the tap. Much better. His monster penis had momentarily derailed me, but I was back on track now. Time to talk myself out of this mess. “Hey.”

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” he asked flatly.

“Right. Well . . .” I neatly tucked my dripping-wet shoulder-length blond hair back behind my ears. As if that would help. My winged eyeliner and false lashes were probably halfway down my cheeks. “I, um, I . . .”

“You what?”

“I’m Lydia,” I said, the first thing to come to mind.

No reply. His handsome face, however, took on a distinctly pissy expression. Even his strawberry-blond hair seemed a fiery hue. Fine, so we weren’t swapping names and getting cozy. Fair enough. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was, keeping my eyes on his face. The struggle was real. It might have been due to my not seeing one in so long, but his dick seemed almost hypnotic. The thing had magical powers, I swear. It was so big and mobile, subtly swaying every time he moved. My gaze kept darting down despite my best efforts.

Finally he put me out of my misery, grabbing a towel off a nearby rack and wrapping it around his waist. It made for quite the hot-looking miniskirt. Not just any man could have pulled off such a look.

But back to my explanations.

“Ah, firstly, I’d just like to say sorry about this.” I waved a hand at him and his bathroom and, well everything, really. “For any inconvenience I might have caused here in your bathroom.”

The guy stood tall, looming over me with his hands on hips. Tattoos covered his arms to his wrists. Still, he had a whole lot of sinew on show. Definitely not the kind of man you’d want to mess with. Dude could probably snap me in half in a second. I bet he was a tattoo model, or a biker, or a pirate, or something. Something a lot hot and more than a little scary.

Shit. I really should have chosen another house.

“I don’t normally break into people’s places and hide out in their tub,” I babbled, on the verge of incoherency. “So I’m really sorry. Seriously. So very sorry. But you’ve got a lovely home.”

“That so?”

“Not that, I mean, that’s not why I’m here. I just . . .” Fucking hell, my mind was a disaster. I took a deep breath, letting it out nice and slow, before trying again. “I love the old Arts and Crafts bungalows, don’t you? They have such soul.”

His brows drew tight. “Are you high? What the fuck are you on?”

“Nothing!”

“You haven’t been popping any pills or snorting something?”

“No, I swear.”

“Nothing to drink?”

“I haven’t had anything,” I said, but the suspicion and anger still lined his face. Paired with the stubble on his chin and the shadows beneath his eyes, my unwilling host was one tired, cranky man. Couldn’t really blame him.

“So you’re completely sober,” he said.

“Completely.”

A pause.

“You’re thinking I’m bat-shit crazy now, aren’t you?” I asked, despite the answer sitting plain as day on his pretty face.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Oh, god. “I’m not. I’m sane.”

“You sure about that?” He looked down the long line of his nose at me, distinctly unimpressed. “Seen a lot of weird shit in my years. Stuff like you wouldn’t believe. But I got to tell you, right now, this . . . you, are taking the cake.”

“Great.” And I was so definitely probably going to jail. Someone ought to give me a cookie. My ability to take a bad situation and make it worse today was amazing.

“You touch any of my stuff?” he asked. “Take anything?”

“Yes, your sofa is cunningly hidden down the front of my dress. You won’t believe where I fit the TV.”

Again, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Between you and me, probably not the time to be funny, babe.”

Crap. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You have every right to be mad.”

“Damn right, I do.”

I nodded, contrite. “I haven’t touched any of your things.”

The dude just stood there, staring. Lots going on behind his eyes. None of which I could read.

A stray tear trickled down my face. It must have saved itself up just for the occasion. Gah. How pathetic. I sniffled, brushing it off hurriedly with the back of my hand.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered.

“I really am sorry about this. The truth is, I just needed somewhere to hide for a little while. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

He sighed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “Lydia?”

“Yes?” Despite my best efforts, my voice trembled slightly.

“Look at me.”

I did so. He still looked cranky and crazy cool while I remained a hot mess.

“I’m Vaughan,” he said.

“Hi.”

He tipped his chin and silence fell between us once more.

With the tip of his tongue rubbing at his upper lip, he looked at the wide open window, and then back at me. Yep, that’s how I’d gotten in. Houdini had nothing on my mad skills.

“What are you doing in my house, Lydia? The truth.”

“It’s kind of a long story, actually.” Along with being excruciatingly embarrassing. But then, what wasn’t about this day?

Vaughan crossed his arms over his wide chest and waited me out while I fussed with my ruined skirts and tried to come up with a way to spin the story to not make me look a complete fool. Christ, the holes in my stockings were huge. On one side, my entire foot stuck out. So screwed.

Vaughan crouched by the side of the tub, resting his arms on the side. Up close the shadows under his eyes seemed even bigger and darker against his pale skin. And there were bags big enough to use as carry-ons. Despite the strong lines of his lean face, the man looked done-in. Ready to sleep for a hundred years.

I knew that feeling.

“Looks like a wedding dress,” he said quietly.

“Yes, it is. I was going to get married today.” I took a deep breath, wiping my face with my hands. Just as expected, my palms came away smeared with black eye makeup. “Ah, boy. I must look a wreck.”

Without comment, Vaughan reached out and grabbed a towel, handing it to me. It was sort of threadbare, old. Dated like the rest of the house. I hadn’t seen more than one room, but real estate agents got a feel for these sort of things. Minimal upkeep for the past five or so years would have been my guess. Perhaps it’d even been left empty. Bushes out front hid the house from view, so I’d never gotten a good look at it before.

“Thank you.” I patted myself dry with the towel as best I could. What remained of my beautiful dress was a sopping wet ruin. “I’m sorry I broke into your house, Vaughan. I swear I don’t normally do this sort of thing.”

“No,” he said, his voice deep. “Figured as much. Where’d you come from?”

“The big house at the back.”

His brow wrinkled. “You climbed over the fence?”

“Yes.”

Tired, red-tinged eyes appraised me anew. “That’s a tall fence. Must have been one hell of an emergency.”

“It was a disaster.”

For a long moment he studied me, deep in thought. Then he sighed yet again, climbing to his feet.

“Are you going to call the cops on me?” I asked, my throat tight with tension. “I know you have every right to, I’m not disputing that. I’d just, I’d like to know. Mental preparation and all that.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” My whole body sagged in relief.

Then he clapped his hands together, startling the crap out of me. “Okay, Lydia. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

“Yes?”

“I arrived late this morning, have only had a few hours sleep. If I don’t get some coffee soon, things are going to get ugly. And you probably need to get dried off.” With no fuss, he held out his hand. “Let’s get shit sorted out. Then we can sit down and you can tell me the long story of how the hell you ended up in my house. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” I said, voice lightening.

He pulled me up. Then, with strong hands on my waist, lifted me out of the tub. Immediately water started dripping off of my saturated dress, pooling on the scuffed wooden flooring at my feet. Chris would have been distinctly unimpressed. Chris didn’t like messes. But as Vaughan didn’t seem to care, neither did I.

“You’re really not going to call the police?” I asked.

“No. Hold still,” he said, carefully plucking a fake eyelash from my cheek.

“Thank you.”

“Your dress is kind of fucked.” He looked me over from top to toe.

“I know,” I said sadly.

“I’ll leave you to get changed.”

“Wait. Please. I can’t get out of it on my own.”

More frowning.

“It’s vintage,” I explained with a grim face. “There’s no zip, just a line of little buttons up the back.”

“’Course there is.” Without another word, he turned me around and got started in on said buttons. As he worked, he hummed beneath his breath, the song vaguely familiar.

“Aren’t you still mad?” I asked, perplexed.

“Nuh.”

“But I broke into your house.”

“Window was open.”

“I still trespassed.”

Busy fingers kept working on undoing the dress. “You sat in the tub and cried because some dickhead fucked you over.”

That shut me up.

“Or that’s what I’m assuming, given the dress and all. I take it he’s the one that gave you that shiner on your cheek?”

“No. No one hit me. And yes, you assumed right about the being fucked over.” I tried to look back at him, but I couldn’t see a thing beyond my wild-ass hair. Impressive how it’d survived the shower. The stylist clearly knew her shit.

“You sure no one hit you?” He did not sound convinced.

“Yes. I lost my grip and hit the floor when I was climbing in the window. My home invasion skills need work.”

“I’d suggest you try a different career.” He finished with the buttons and took a step back, scratching his head. “You okay with the dress now?”

“Yes, thank you,” I told his reflection in the mirror. “For everything, I mean.”

“Sure.” He almost smiled and gave a small shake of the head as if he couldn’t quite believe what was going on. Or maybe it was disbelief that he wasn’t kicking me straight back out the window through whence I’d come.

Lord knows, it’d shocked the shit out of me.

He turned toward the door. “See you out there.”

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Are you ready to get DIRTY!?!

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Title: DIRTY

Series: Dive Bar Series

Release Date: April 19th!

Genre: Erotica-Contemporary / Rockstar Romance

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Blurb

The last thing Vaughan Hewson expects to find when he returns to his childhood home is a broken hearted bride in his shower, let alone the drama and chaos that comes with her.

Lydia Green doesn’t know whether to burn down the church or sit and cry in a corner. Discovering the love of your life is having an affair on your wedding day is bad enough. Finding out it’s with his best man is another thing all together. She narrowly escapes tying the knot and meets Vaughan only hours later.

Vaughan is the exact opposite of the picture perfect, respected businessman she thought she’d marry. This former musician-turned-bartender is rough around the edges and unsettled. But she already tried Mr. Right and discovered he’s all wrong-maybe it’s time to give Mr. Right Now a chance.

After all, what’s wrong with getting dirty?

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kylie scott

Kylie is a long time fan of erotic love stories and B-grade horror films. She demands a happy ending and if blood and carnage occur along the way then all the better. Based in Queensland, Australia with her two children and one delightful husband, she reads, writes and never dithers around on the internet.

Kylie is represented by Amy Tannenbaum at the Jane Rotrosen Agency, New York.

Stalk Kylie Scott: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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