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

 

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Only 99c for a limited time

 

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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.

 

 

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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

 

Facebook  Twitter  Web  Goodreads  Amazon Page  Instagram

 

 

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Release Blitz! ❀❀ Marry Screw Kill ❀❀ by Liv Morris!

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Marry Screw Kill by Liv Morris is NOW LIVE!

Amazon US:  http://amzn.to/1phZ8qI

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

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

Nook: hyperurl.co/NookMSK

Kobo: hyperurl.co/KoboMSK

msk now available

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Blurb

There are two men in my life. I’m marrying one, want to screw the brains out of another, and by the time this story is over you may want to kill someone.

The choices are still pending…

A NO CHEATING standalone you need to read sitting down.

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Young sexy woman in lace lingerie. Black and white

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liv morris bio

Liv Morris

USA Today bestselling author, Liv Morris, was raised in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. She now resides on the rock known as St. Croix, USVI with her first and hopefully last husband. After relocating twelve times during his corporate career, she qualifies as a professional mover. Learning to bloom where she’s planted, Liv brings her moving and life experience to her writing.

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**Reveal Blitz** Filthy Foreign Exchange Excerpt by SE Hall and Angela Graham!

FFE EXCERPT

Excerpt

On Monday morning, I find myself ripping off my clothes and jumping in the shower like I’m going for the gold at an Olympic race. I crank the nozzle as far right as it’ll go—the hotter the better, for the steam to build quickly.

A prelude.

More than I want a cleansing, I want the hidden message—our secret exchange of thoughts, belonging to only us—to appear.

But as the shower glass fogs, no words emerge. And the depth of my disappointment is irrational; there should not be the sting of tears in my eyes right now.

Kingston is forbidden fruit in so many ways: he’s our exchange student, my father has already warned him against me…and his departure date is set and inevitable. So my anticipation of these messages is not only foolish, but self-destructive. Because the more attached I get, the worse it will hurt when they’re no longer even a possibility.

I hurry through my now-mundane shower with a heavy lump of disenchanted sensibility in my gut.

But when I turn off the water and step out, every thought I’d just told myself made sense is replaced with a swell of immeasurable bliss.

Guess what else fogs up in a steamy bathroom?

The mirror.

And on it is his message to me—the best one yet.

There was something in her movements that made you think she never walked but always danced.

I’m instantly aware—this is bad, because once you think something’s gone and it comes back better than ever, your craving for it reaches a whole new, dangerous level.

You only fully realize the depth of want and need immediately after experiencing loss.

Too many emotions to name surge inside of me, my head a good kind of hazy while the muscles around my heart cinch tighter. I know Kingston and I are merely friends, albeit becoming better ones with every effortless interaction. We’re just housemates who’ve found a clever, entertaining way to match wits.

But if it was, if it could be, more…he’d be damn good at it.

I now understand how he’s able to bewitch girls by the droves. It’s not just his strikingly good looks, or enticing accent…it’s him. Those girls are such simpletons, so spellbound by the outside package that they don’t even realize the entirety of his allure.

But I do. I see his invisible, inherent charm; the sheer seductiveness that emits from his every smile and move; and his keen mind.

Shaking off the silly, romantic musings that have no place in my life, I hustle to get ready for school.

But once I’m in the parking lot, ignoring the bell warning me I’m about to be late, I throw caution—and my better judgment—to the wind, and type out a text.

Me: You’ve read Anne of Green Gables?

The second bell rings as I wait for a response, but for some inexplicable reason, I simply don’t care. Then a different ding sounds—and with it, my heart thrums an anxious beat.

Kingston: No, should I have?

Me: Yes, great books. But I asked bc the quote you left me this morning, which I really liked btw… it’s from one of the books.

Kingston: Ah, well they stole your story then, Love.

I’ve definitely unfairly judged the girls caught under his spell. The choice was never theirs. He’s that good.

Me: How do you figure?

Kingston: I searched “quotes for Echo Kelly” and that came up. As it should. Said it perfectly.

This—he—could get addictive. And lines clearly drawn in my head and heart could easily become blurry, if not completely obliterated, should I sit here any longer.

So I force myself back into friend mode and reply accordingly.

Me: You’re on a roll this morning. Better save some of those savvy lines for the tarts.

I hesitate before sending one last message.

Me: I’m late. Have a good day playboy!

I run into school, out of breath for two reasons but satisfied with myself for taking back control of the situation that was headed in a direction I dare not explore.

First, you don’t leap from shy introvert who doesn’t date to Kingston Hawthorne: a smooth-talker with a face made for dreams, a body of unworldly men, and the entourage of a celebrity. He’s not the type of guy to get your feet wet with, or you’re sure to drown on your first swim. And secondly, the detour I threw worked, because the texts that continue the rest of the day are back on the track they need to be.

FFE COMING SOON

Temptation is ONLY a room away….

Filthy Foreign Exchange Releases April 24th!

Pre-order Exclusively on iBooks here: http://apple.co/1R8c0wM

Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/223U4VV

filthy Foreign exchange

Blurb

New York Times bestselling authors Angela Graham and S.E. Hall have teamed up again to bring you a full-length, steamy new romance.

Echo Kelly is loyal to her studies, family, and aerial artistry. She has no time for or interest in anything else, and is heartbroken when her oldest brother, Sebastian, gets accepted to a study-abroad program— exchanging places with cocky, not-at-all-shy foreign exchange student Kingston Hawthorne.

Kingston Hawthorne had the life every twenty-year-old guy dreams of— endless cash, easy women, and fast cars— until his father ripped it all away, shipping him off to the States and placing him temptingly close to the underage virgin who fascinates him in the most challenging of ways.

With Kingston’s bedroom just a connecting bathroom away from Echo’s, the chemistry between them is even more enticing than the notes he leaves for her on the shower door.

How long can you pretend you’re just friends?

An attractive young couple in a loving embrace kissing one another in bed.

About the Authors:

S.E. Hall

se hall bio

S.E.Hall, lover of all things anticipation and romance, is the author of The Evolve Series: Emerge, Embrace, Entangled, Entice, Endure and companion novellas Baby Mama Drama and Guide for Tools Looking to Date My Daughter by character Sawyer Beckett. S.E. also wrote the stand-alone Finally Found novels Pretty Instinct and Pretty Remedy. Her co-written works include The Provocative Professions Collection: Stirred Up, Packaged and Handled 1&2, One Naughty Night and full-length, standalone novel Matched with Angela Graham as well as Conspire, a romantic suspense, written with Erin Noelle.

S.E. resides in Arkansas with her husband of 18 years and 3 daughters of the home. When not writing or reading, she can be found “enthusiastically cheering” on one of her girls’ softball games.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter

angela graham bio

Angela Graham is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of the Harmony Series. She spent a lot of her childhood hidden away in the aisles at her local public library where she fell in love with reading. It was a home away from home through her youth to her adulthood.

In 2012 she knew she found her calling in the world of fiction the moment she began pounding away at the keys for her first short story. With a baby on her shoulder, she wrote about a year before deciding to try her hand at a novel. It was the best decision she ever made and one that changed her life in ways she never imagined.

Together with S.E. Hall, she has released five novels and one short story together.

Angela resides in Northwest Arkansas with her three beautiful children and a rowdy dog.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Dark Book Review! ~The Goodbye Man~ by A. Giannoccaro

The Goodbye Man

(Red Market #1)

by: A. Giannoccaro & Mary E. Palmerin 

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**Graphic content warning including detailed depiction of brutal, bloody acts. Physical and emotional abuse is also apparent throughout this book with graphic sex scenes, both consensual and non-sensual. Reader discretion is highly advised. Not suitable for readers under the age of eighteen or those who are easily offended by the above mentioned acts.**

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Dysfunctional empires were made to fall. 

I am Caesar. Broken and conflicted. I am a man who gives false goodness to those who crave it. I provide solace to the ones who beg to be saved, giving them the goodbyes they want. But, my quiet little world is about to be shattered by the whispers from heaven and hell.

I am Mateo. Unlovable and unworthy. I am the boy everyone runs from. I keep love close to me in little jars of perfection, reminding me of a thousand goodbyes I never had to say, because I left them before they could leave me.

I am Svetlana. Dirty and Used. Birthed into brutality while still trying to comprehend my version of normal. I am an injured lamb, eaten by filthy wolves day after day. Just as salvation seems like it's within reach, a goodbye from this awful world is all that I wish for.

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Buy Now!

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Add it!

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TEASERS!
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goodreads link author page
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MEET THE AUTHORS!
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A. Giannoccaro Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/mary.palmerin?fref=ts

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Syrina's
✩✩✩✩✩ Review!

Sexy Psycho Heat Factor - CHECK!!
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At times I did not think I could go on yet I took one for the team and plowed through it like a thrill seeker on a race track going mach 1. I hated every character in this piece and yet I cannot explain how much I loved them all, so beautifully broken, every. single. one. of. them. I adored Caesar, just fell for the devilish, angelic hero... HARD. I am devastated, utterly shattered, completely spent and just 
f*ing wrecked.

Mind Benders/Twists - YAS PLEASE!
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For the love of... WTF just happened? WTF did I just read!? I want more, right f*ing now! So intense, absolutely horrifying, most assuredly disturbing and very very eye opening! This is a true, gritty, disgusting portrayal of an honest to goodness black market trade of human trafficking in its most raw form.

Sinful Dark BBF’s/BGF’s
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Ya'll want heat?!  My Gawd the white hot sexy heat between these characters will give you that and much much more, be prepared, bring extra umm stuff and mops and such!  
Scortching!

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happy reading

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