Sunday, March 24, 2019

Little Darlings by Melanie Golding

Little Darlings
by Melanie Golding

My rating: 4 stars

Publisher: Crooked Lane Books (April 30, 2019)
Publication Date: April 30, 2019
Genre: Dark Fiction | Horror
Print Length: 315 pages
Available from: Amazon | Barnes & Noble
Everyone says Lauren Tranter is exhausted, that she needs rest. And they’re right; with newborn twins, Morgan and Riley, she’s never been more tired in her life. But she knows what she saw: that night, in her hospital room, a woman tried to take her babies and replace them with her own…creatures. Yet when the police arrived, they saw no one. Everyone, from her doctor to her husband, thinks she’s imagining things.

A month passes. And one bright summer morning, the babies disappear from Lauren’s side in a park. But when they’re found, something is different about them. The infants look like Morgan and Riley―to everyone else. But to Lauren, something is off. As everyone around her celebrates their return, Lauren begins to scream, These are not my babies.

Determined to bring her true infant sons home, Lauren will risk the unthinkable. But if she’s wrong about what she saw…she’ll be making the biggest mistake of her life.

Compulsive, creepy, and inspired by some our darkest fairy tales, Little Darlings will have you checking―and rechecking―your own little ones. Just to be sure. Just to be safe.
Little Darlings by Melanie Golding

Little DarlingsA mother knows her babies and Lauren knew her twins had been switched with changelings from the deep, but no one would believe her. She HAD to get them back, but being labeled as mentally unstable would prove her first challenge, switching them with the witch from the water would be her second. Surviving would be her third.

LITTLE DARLINGS by Melanie Golding is dark, haunting and every mother’s worst nightmare. Throughout this tale the feeling of wrongness prevails and an eerie sense of horror will keep readers glued to each page. Have the twins really been switched for monsters or has Lauren gone over the deep end? Riveting and edgy, this tale is the thing nightmares are made from.

I received a complimentary ARC edition from Crooked Lane Books!


Finder by Suzanne Palmer

Finder
by Suzanne Palmer

My rating: 4 stars

Publisher: DAW
Publication Date: April 2, 2019
Genre: Sci-fi | Space Opera
Print Length: 397 pages
Available from: Amazon | Barnes & Noble
Fergus Ferguson has been called a lot of names: thief, con artist, repo man. He prefers the term finder.

His latest job should be simple. Find the spacecraft Venetia's Sword and steal it back from Arum Gilger, ex-nobleman turned power-hungry trade boss. He'll slip in, decode the ship's compromised AI security, and get out of town, Sword in hand.


Fergus locates both Gilger and the ship in the farthest corner of human-inhabited space, a gas-giant-harvesting colony called Cernee. But Fergus' arrival at the colony is anything but simple. A cable car explosion launches Cernee into civil war, and Fergus must ally with Gilger's enemies to navigate a field of space mines and a small army of hostile mercenaries. What was supposed to be a routine job evolves into negotiating a power struggle between factions. Even worse, Fergus has become increasingly--and inconveniently--invested in the lives of the locals.

It doesn't help that a dangerous alien species thought mythical prove unsettlingly real, and their ominous triangle ships keep following Fergus around.

Foolhardy. Eccentric. Reckless. Whatever he's called, Fergus will need all the help he can get to take back the Sword and maybe save Cernee from destruction in the process. 
Finder by Suzanne Palmer

FinderLooking for a swashbuckling hero who is part daredevil and part rogue with his own brand of charm? Meet Fergus Ferguson, now on a mission to recover (read that steal back) a certain spacecraft on a remote space settlement. Hang on tight as Suzanne Palmer blasts us of into a space opera adventure that plays out at the speed of light!

FINDER is fast, fun and furious as Fergus attempts to con the conman and retrieve the ship while escaping with his life. All in a day’s work for Fergus, but can he outwit the hostile mercenaries that will be on his tail?

Haven’t tried a space opera yet? Now’s the time to meet Fergus and friends…and enemies. An out of this world escape into reading!

I received a complimentary ARC edition from DAW!


Mimic by C.L. Denault Blitz and #Giveaway


Mimic
C.L. Denault
(The Prodigy Chronicles #2)
Publication date: March 22nd 2019
Genres: Dystopian, Romance, Science Fiction, Young Adult
In 2012, one cycle of an ancient calendar system came to a close. Humanity predicted its downfall, but it wasn’t the end of their evolutionary climb. It was the beginning.
Willow Kent is discovering that life as a second-phase prodigy comes at a price. Trapped in the London Core, her choices are limited, made difficult by her forbidden romance with Reece and the presence of a new commanding officer who establishes harsh rules. With unpredictable skills and a growing distrust in her birth parents, she is struggling to play the Core’s game. But when opportunity arises in the form of a mysterious shapeshifter, Willow realizes there’s more to her own evolution than meets the eye. She soon learns that keeping secrets is a key move, and the more dangerous they are, the greater her need to evolve into the powerful prodigy nature intended her to become.
But those closest to her have their own secrets, and her status has made her an easy target for betrayal. Who will she turn to, when nothing is as it seems?
Sequel to:
EXCERPT:
The blow shouldn’t have stunned me. I’d grown up in a tavern, defending myself, and had spent plenty of time training with Kane and Tem. I knew how to take a hit.
This was more than a hit. Kristoffe’s swing was fast and brutal, with a force behind it that rivaled my own—enough to knock me off my feet and send me flying down the hall.
Sensations took over. There was the feel of backward motion. Loss of control as my body hit the floor. More motion from sliding, and the hot sting of my flesh scraping tile. Ceiling lights blurred into white lines. Pain throbbed in my cheek.
But it was the tightness in my throat that hurt most. The tiger clawed like mad as we slid. Her screams pierced the fog in my brain, parting it, carving out a path. If I didn’t stop her, she would use it to climb up and take control.
Let me in!
I managed to shake my head.
You need me!
“No,” I whimpered, bumping into the limp body of an elevator guard. One of his arms stopped me, and I sat up quickly, recoiling. He was spread-eagled, face down among his comrades, his fingers wrapped around a retinal scanner. I cringed. Was he dead? Had the tiger killed them all? Then my eyes fell on the laser resting at his hip.
Take it.
I couldn’t. I’d never fired one before.
He’ll kill us!
Not sure who she meant, I jerked my head around. The man with the sabre was still gone. But Kristoffe and his patrol were marching in my direction, dragging Toby with them. He struggled violently until one of them drove a fist into his stomach. A savage tug tore through my belly. Gasping, I leaned over, fumbling for the guard’s laser.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Kristoffe signaled for his men to stop, but continued walking toward me. He didn’t waver, not even when I grasped the laser in both hands and aimed it at him.
“That’s far enough,” I said.
He kept coming.
“I’ll shoot.” My finger instinctively hugged the trigger. “I mean it.”
Spreading his arms, Kristoffe made a target out of his broad chest. His smile was icy. “Go ahead, then. Shoot.”
Was he bluffing? I couldn’t tell. He might have a defensive shield. On the other hand, he might go down with one shot. There was no way to know. But somehow, he’d survived the tiger. This laser was my only hope.
Do it, the tiger spat.
My pulse spiked. “I will shoot.”
He kept coming.
Shoot him!
“Stop,” I cried, my hands shaking.
But he didn’t stop, and the closer he came, the harder I choked on the tiger’s fury. Her strength was more than I could handle. He was only a few feet away when her hissing cry forced me to pull the trigger. A matching cry left my lips. The laser clicked, shuddered—
—and died.



Author Bio:
C.L. Denault is a speculative fiction writer who loves dreaming up tales of adventure and intrigue. A former systems analyst, she gave up her nerdy code-writing skills to care for her family (including a son with special needs), and currently lives among the vast stretches of cornfields in Illinois.
Writing and working out are her biggest passions, along with drinking coffee and watching sci-fi. When she’s not hanging out with her husband and kids, she can usually be found at a library or tucked away in the shadowy corner of a hip coffeehouse. She’s also been glimpsed sneaking into her garage, late at night, to work on her time machine.
She enjoys connecting with people—especially those from other planets, nearby dimensions, and the future. To find her, just visit her website or social media pages. Or use a Stargate. Whichever is easiest.

#GIVEAWAY!

2x winners will get:
$25 Amazon Gift Card 
Mimic Signed Paperback 
Rustic Butterfly Necklace 
Mimic Bookmark
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Cassidy by Ebony Olson Blitz and #Giveaway


Cassidy
Ebony Olson
(Hotel Series, #2)
Publication date: March 22nd 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
There is no better remedy for a broken heart than a holiday with your sisters. Holly Claire arrives in Hawaii determined to forget Benjamin Henderson. Fate wants her to forget him too. In her first six hours, Holly runs into the same delicious man no less than three times. When she literally runs into him, Sean Cassidy becomes determined to make it more. What harm could a holiday fling do?


Author Bio:
Ebony lives in Sydney, Australia, with her husband, daughter, and six cats. She loves to read fantasy, thrillers, and paranormal romance, spending most of her free time with her nose in a book or writing.
Having always possessed an over-active imagination she spent her younger years regaling friends with fantastic stories, holding her audience captive with the passion and suspense of her characters plights.
Now in adulthood, she has numerous published works and shows no signs of stopping her imagination from spreading across as many pages as it can find.

#GIVEAWAY!

$15 Amazon gift card
Ends March 28, 2019

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Saturday, March 23, 2019

Darkness Returns by Alexandra Ivy (Guardinas of Eternity #13)

Darkness Returns

My Rating: 4 stars
Written by: Alexandra Ivy
Series: Guardians of Eternity
Sequence in Series: Book 13
Paperback: 186 pages
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corporation
Publication Date: April 16, 2019
ISBN-10: 1516108450
ISBN-13: 978-1516108459
Genre: Paranormal Romance | Fantasy

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Darkness-Retur...
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dark...
Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/dark...

More powerful than ever, the Guardians of Eternity are facing their greatest challenge yet: a war within their ranks. Their future is in the hands of one rebel vampire, who must choose between loyalty and love . . .

Blessed with an even more compelling allure than most vampires, Chiron has made a fortune in the human world, creating an empire of resorts and casinos. Since the betrayal and imprisonment of his master, he has existed outside the order of the Guardians, trusting no one. But now, the new vampire king has given him a peace offering: a scroll that could free his master. Following the relic’s magic leads him to a demon hotel deep in the Everglades, a lush paradise owned by a mysterious and mesmerizing woman . . .

As far as Lilah knows, she’s lived her entire life within the confines of her enchanted estate. Memories of her own past are elusive and cloaked in shadows. Even Chiron can’t figure out exactly what she is, and if her intoxicating beauty is his destiny or an illusion drawing him ever closer to his demise—or perhaps to an even more tormenting choice, between his master and his mate . . .

Darkness Returns (Guardians Of Eternity, #13)Darkness Returns by Alexandra Ivy

Chiron is a vampire who has made an empire of world wide casino hotels. When the possibility of his missing master has been found, Chiron follows the clues, with Levet’s help, to a small Everglade magical retreat where he meets the most memorizing young woman, Lilah. Chiron doesn’t know if he can trust Lilah or if she is responsible for his missing master.

Lilah has spent her entire life at the estate and dreams of traveling the world but breaks in her memories and a magical nanny convinces her time and time again to stay.

Mystery, mayhem and lots of sexy is just what this book reader wanted and got from Darkness Returns. She had me with Levet so all the rest just made for a magically fabulous read.

I received this ARC copy of Darkness Returns from Kensington Books - Lyrical Press. This is my honest and voluntary review. Darkness Returns is set for publication April 16, 2019.



The Other Side of Wrong by Christi Barth (Bad Decisions #3)

The Other Side of Wrong

My Rating: 4 stars
Written by: Christi Barth
Series: Bad Decisions
Sequence in Series: Book 3
Paperback: 120 pages
Publisher: Independently published
Publication Date: January 21, 2019
ISBN-10: 1793370702
ISBN-13: 978-1793370709
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Other-Side-Wro...
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-...
Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-...

Jake McQuinn’s lived and loved the rock-star lifestyle. But a family scandal ripped him away from his band and back home. Back to boredom, a buttoned-up sham of a job, and a desperate need to whitewash his image. His family’s pharmaceutical company could crumble without him. His band’s epic comeback won’t happen without him. How’s he supposed to choose which one to save?

Cassidy--just one name as befits one of the biggest pop stars on the planet--has discovered the downside to fame. Finding a decent guy to date who understands her demanding career and crazy schedule? Impossible. Until she remembers the rocker who almost rocked her world a few years ago…

Jake thought he walked away from her for all the right reasons. Cassidy, however, intends to get him back. And she’s going to use his band’s shot at redemption and rock legend status as leverage. If she convinces him to date her again and drop the good guy routine? Even better. Doing the right thing for everyone else feels so wrong for Jake. And making a bad decision about hooking up with Cassidy could be the best thing yet…

The Other Side of Wrong (Bad Decisions, #3)The Other Side of Wrong by Christi Barth

Wow, Christi Barth packs a ton of stuff into a rather short novel.

The Other Side of Wrong is a second chance at romance story. An almost one night stand a few years ago turns into two rock stars coming into the lime light and love when they decide to tour together.

This is a strong sexual attraction and chemistry read filled with lots of family issues, personal choices, heart ache, career decisions and more family issues. Now grab your copy and check out Cassidy and Riptide!




The Devil's Own by K.A. Fox

The Devil's Own

My Rating: 4 stars
Written by: K.A. Fox
Paperback: 301 pages
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
Publication Date: March 9, 2019
ISBN-10: 1947392484
ISBN-13: 978-1947392489
Genre: Urban Fantasy | Children Fantasy

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Devils-Own-Mur...
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/book...

Delaney Murphy has always known she's the Devil’s daughter. And although the title itself is a burden, she never expects to inherit all her father's infernal abilities. When her newfound magic begins to poison the people closest to her, Laney must make a choice. To protect the world from the worst she can do, she leaves everyone she loves behind and builds a new life for herself, alone, in a place where she can control the urge to give in to the magic living within her.

But when she recognizes a familiar pattern in a string of murders, Laney leaves her peaceful, isolated life behind and goes on the hunt, unleashing a threat she never dreamed possible. Confronting this menacing specter could mean giving in to temptation and becoming the one thing she fears most. Will she use her magic to do the right thing, even if it means hurting the ones she loves?

The Devil's OwnThe Devil's Own by K.A. Fox

The Devil’s Own is a fast, fun and extremely original take on the “spawn of Satan” or should I say rock star…

Delaney is the Devil’s daughter whose life sucking, and siren abilities have driven her into self-isolation.

Deciding to take on a demonic serial killer brings Delaney to the attention of some people that cause some major friction between her and her father.

Fearing for Delaney’s safety, her father sends a few hell powered protectors to watch over Delaney while he deals with trouble in hell.

I found The Devil’s Own a really great start to a very engaging new storyline and characters that I’d like to explore more.

I received this ARC copy of The Devil's Own from Acorn Publishing. This is my honest and voluntary review. The Devil's Own is set for publication March 9, 2019.




Upside Down by N.R. Walker Blitzs and #Giveaway


Upside Down
N.R. Walker
Publication date: March 21st 2019
Genres: Adult, LGBTQ+, Romance
Jordan O’Neill isn’t a fan of labels, considering he has a few. Gay, geek, a librarian, socially awkward, a nervous rambler, an introvert, an outsider. The last thing he needs is one more. But he when he realises adding the label ‘asexual’ might explain a lot, it turns his world upside down.
Hennessy Lang moved to Surry Hills after splitting with his boyfriend. His being asexual had seen the end of a lot of his romances, but he’s determined to stay true to himself. Leaving his North Shore support group behind, he starts his own in Surry Hills, where he meets first-time-attendee Jordan.
A little bewildered and scared, but completely adorable, Hennessy is struck by this guy who’s trying to find where he belongs. Maybe Hennessy can convince Jordan that his world hasn’t been turned upside down at all, but maybe it’s now—for the first time in his life—the right way up.
EXCERPT:
Context: Jordan is attending his first asexual support meeting, along with his best friend Merry, where Jordan finds the guy from his bus, whom he’s admired from afar and dubbed ‘Headphones Guy’ (Hennessy) is running the meetings.
Jordan
I didn’t even notice that the room had cleared out. Merry had pulled up a chair at my side, but Hennessy sat with his knees between mine, holding my hand while I cried.
I fucking cried.
Through my stupid, traitorous tears, I caught the end of a silent conversation between Merry and him, my Headphones Guy.
Hennessy.
And then Merry rubbed my back before she walked out, and Hennessy squeezed my hand. “She’s just gone to get you a drink of water,” he said gently.
“I don’t know why I’m crying,” I said, wiping my face with my free hand.
“Because it can be overwhelming,” he said. His voice was calm and soft. “Because it can be life-affirming and scary as hell, all at the same time.”
I nodded. “I don’t want another label, you know? Because I have enough. I have more than enough. Too many, probably, you know for a geeky book-nerd gay man with so many levels of social awkwardness Freud would need an elevator, but the labels fit. And I hate that they fit. Everything that was said here tonight was like it was said for me, like I was saying those things. I didn’t want this to happen,” I said, shaking my head, fighting more tears. “I wanted to come here and, well, that’s not exactly true. I didn’t want to come here at all; it was Merry’s idea. She suggested that I look into what being asexual meant. After my 683rd failed attempt at a relationship, she thought maybe I should see if I ticked any boxes on the ‘How To See If You Could Be Asexual’ questionnaire on Teen Vogue, and after I realised that I could almost tick all the boxes, I decided I didn’t want or need another label. So then I had to come here tonight to shut her up. I was going to prove her wrong and then I could go on living my best life being not asexual but just a gay man who didn’t actually want to have sex. A socially awkward, geeky book-nerd gay man,” I amended through more tears, “who doesn’t actually want to have sex. I’m sorry for crying. I wasn’t expecting the emotional dump, but I wasn’t expecting to feel so… lost and found. Like I once was lost but now I’m found, kind of like the song, which is cheesy as fuck and I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I just didn’t realise how hard I’d been trying to fit in with the real world, trying to be normal, when my normal was here all along. Because I really am asexual and it hit me like a metric fuckton of bricks that there’s actually nothing wrong with me.”
And then there were more tears.
“Because that’s my truth, even if I thought there was something wrong with me, and fuck knows I’ve been told there was, many times,” I said, wiping my face. “But there’s not. I’m asexual, and that’s my motherfucking truth whether I like it or not.”
Hennessy smiled at me. With his perfect lips and perfect teeth, his pretty blue eyes, and three-day scruff. He looked so different without his headphones, like seeing someone who normally wears glasses without them. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, still smiling, still holding my hand.
“I’m sorry, were you not here for the geeky book-nerd gay man with so many levels of social awkwardness Freud would need an elevator conversation?”
He laughed at that. “I believe I was, yeah.”
“Sorry about that. I tend to babble a lot when I’m nervous. And swear. Well, I say fuck a lot even when I’m not nervous. I don’t have Tourette’s or anything, I just like the word fuck. The noun and adverb, even the adjective, not the verb obviously because I’m asexual. Apparently. So there is definitely no actioning of the word.”
Hennessy chuckled. “No actioning of the word, got it.” He still had a hold of my hand, and I liked it. As in, really liked it. My Headphones Guy was holding my hand, and he was smiling at me, in what I think was not in a bad way. I mean, his smile was kind and his eyes were smiling too, if that was even possible. I mean, no it wasn’t possible—eyes could not physically smile, I got that—but damn, they sure looked happy.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked.
“A little weirded out,” I answered. “Not gonna lie. I didn’t want to admit the asexual thing to myself for a long time, and I’m thinking it will take some getting used to. Like breaking in a pair of Doc Martens, ya know? Like they’re uncomfortable and tight and basically kill your feet until they’re the most comfortable shoes you’ll ever wear. They become like a second skin, and I’m pretty sure this whole asexual thing will be like that.”
He made a thoughtful face. “I like that analogy.”
“And it’s even weirder, because you’re my Headphones Guy and I had no idea you’d be here, but here you are and now you’re holding my hand and I cried in front of you, which is not how I wanted our first meeting to go. Believe me. I had visions of it involving me not being so… well, so me. And doing all the talking, because I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous, which I think I’ve said already—”
“I’m your Headphones Guy?”
Oh fucking fuckity motherfucker. “I said that out loud, didn’t I? To your perfect face, and what kind of perfect name is Hennessy, by the way? Because—”
A loud peal of laughter broke through the door when a couple, a guy and girl, stumbled into the backroom, their arms around each other, obviously intoxicated and handsy and half kissing, half laughing, until they realised the room wasn’t empty.
I shot to my feet and pulled my hand away from Hennessy’s.
“Oh, sorry guys,” the girl said.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” the guy said. He took his hand off her arse to wave it. “Keep doing what you’re doing. We don’t mind. We thought this room was empty.”
“We weren’t doing anything,” I said quickly.
“Excuse me,” Merry said, sliding in around the drunk couple. She held three bottles of water. “Sorry, it took forever to get served. They’re really busy.”
I’d never been happier to see her. “Oh, thank God.” I grabbed her arm and turned her back toward the door. “We need to leave. I called him my Headphones Guy to his perfect fucking face.”
Merry shot Hennessy a look and held out a bottle of water for him. He took it, still smiling, though somewhat confused. Then Merry looked up at me as I dragged her to the door. “To his face?”
“What was I supposed to do? You left me unsupervised!” I stopped at the couple who were still standing in the doorway, and only just then I realised what the guy had meant when he said they thought the room was empty… “Oh praise baby motherfucking Jesus, I hope you have antibacterial wipes.”
Now Merry was hauling me out through the crowded pub. I yelled back at the couple, hoping they’d hear, “At least wipe it down afterwards, we have meetings in there!”
We burst through the crowd onto the street and Merry looked up at me and sighed. “What else did you say?”
“What didn’t I say?” I answered. “I was a mess, crying all over him because of the whole asexual thing, thank you very much. Then I was nervous and we both know how well that ends. And I think I might have told him that he was my Headphones Guy, that he had a perfect face and a perfect name, because who the fuck calls their kid Hennessy, and now he thinks I’m a raving lunatic because you. Left. Me. Un. Supervised.”
Merry cracked her bottle of water, took a long drink, sighed, then hooked her arm around my elbow. “He really is very good looking,” she said as we began the walk back to my flat. “I can see why you’ve been crushing on him forever.”
I took a swig of my water. “Fucking hell, I wish this was wine. Where is Jesus when you need him?”


Author Bio:
N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance.
She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.
She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.
She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.
She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.
She’s been writing ever since…

#GIVEAWAY!

$40 Amazon gift card
Ends March 29, 2019

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Just Like Animals by Hettie Blitz and #Giveaway


Just Like Animals
Hettie Ivers
(Werelock Evolution #5)
Publication date: August 28th 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
“Hot, humorous, and dirty in the best possible way. Amazingly well written. Highly recommend!!!” —Anna Zaires, New York Times bestselling author
For ten long years, I stayed away to protect her.
I thought I’d successfully subverted my wolf’s instincts where Bethany was concerned.
But when I saw her on that dance floor, my inner beast took over.
I told myself it would be just one dance. One dance and I’d let her go.
I didn’t mean to bite her.
Or f*ck her in the middle of a crowded dance club.
Or kidnap her… again.
NOTE:Just Like Animals is a fast-paced dirty ride” (to quote a reviewer). The romance between the main couple is written to work as a standalone for readers new to the Werelock Evolution world. However, please note that this is book number 5 within the Werelock Evolution series, so it also continues elements of the overarching storyline for the world. 90k word, full-length novel. HEA with NO cheating.
EXCERPT:
“Sir, car’s out front.”
I nodded in acknowledgement, but my feet were rooted to the cement floor of the club, my eyes transfixed by the gyrating blonde, as I tried to determine if I was seeing things.
Nope. It was definitely her. And she was drunk off her ass. Of that there was little doubt. Yet she still displayed an enviable natural rhythm out on the dance floor—with that barely clothed, to-die-for body that I had found myself jerking off to in memory on more than one occasion over the past ten years. More times than was probably healthy given the fact she was strictly off-limits.
More than off-limits. She might as well have been taboo. Maybe that’s what made her so attractive? Or maybe I was just a masochist.
Her girlfriends appeared equally inebriated. Men surrounded her like vultures. Two of them were putting their hands on her. I took a step closer without thinking. Then another.
“Sir?”
I rationalized that I just wanted to confirm it was really her, to see her up close … make certain she was okay and that she had a safe ride home. I told myself I had only pure intentions this time.
I’d checked up on her over the years and knew that she’d completed medical school and was now finishing her residency at UCSF Hospital. And that she was engaged. A fact that came back to me in a blinding flash when she flung her arm up in the air and the enormous rock on her finger caught the flare of the strobe light.
She was engaged to some big-deal society schmuck. Silicon Valley trust fund baby trash. I’d seen their cheesy engagement photo spread all over social media six months ago and had pegged the guy a class A douchebag at first sight.
She’d looked radiant in the photos. Better than I’d even remembered. And happy. So fucking happy. A fact I’d had conflicting feelings about at the time.
She didn’t look happy now, though. And once again, I felt conflicted over this observation.
Sure, she was grinning as if having the time of her life, throwing flirty bedroom eyes at the men dancing with her as if she hadn’t a care in the world. As if she wasn’t engaged to be married. But those eyes were red-rimmed and puffy beneath their well-applied makeup, and lined by dark circles. They looked more green than blue. She’d been crying hours earlier. I was sure of it.
My inner animal took over. Before I knew it, I’d nudged the guy at her back out of my way, my hands had encircled her tiny waist, and I was yanking her lush, round ass into the swiftly growing ache in my groin. Definitely a masochist. I delivered a mental push accompanied by a flash of yellow eyes to the asshole in front of her when he looked up to glare at me in protest. He did a double take and nearly tripped over his own feet trying to back away as quickly as possible.
I felt her body stiffen against me, a trickle of alarm tightening her muscles, a sliver of fear tainting her perfect scent. It only made her smell more edible. I groaned as my jean-encased cock swelled and lengthened against her ass, along with my canines. She attempted to pull away from me. And though it irritated me, at the same time I was quietly pleased. Impressed that even drunk she possessed strong survival instincts.
When I failed to release her, she tried to crane her head back to see who had taken hold of her and had scared off her dance partners, but I hauled her little body tighter in against mine to prevent it, my forearm crossing her chest, my palm caging her throat. I didn’t want her to recognize me.
Not yet. I wanted a moment between us where there was no history to get in the way. Where we could be two strangers dancing in a club, and I could pretend that I had a chance with her.
“Relax.” My thumb stroked back and forth over the rapid pulse beating in her neck. “One dance and I’ll let you go. Promise.”
I’d weighted my words with Alpha energy, and yet they sounded half-command, half-plea to my own ears. Regardless, they seemed to reassure her enough that the tension in her body dissipated. And soon that delicious body all but melted into mine as our hips began to move as one and my roaming hands took liberties they shouldn’t have. I couldn’t stop though. Not when I scented what it was doing to her. How wet she was getting beneath the scrap of material she was wearing.
She had one of those flimsy, strappy dresses on that looked and felt more like a form-fitting slip. Silvery pale grey in color and barely long enough to hit her upper thighs. My hands slid over the silky smooth material like they had every right to, feeling every hard ridge of muscle and soft mound of flesh that lay beneath. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the temptation to explore her breasts—to feel those diamond-hard nipples through the thin fabric of her dress right there on the dance floor—was more than I had strength of will to resist in the moment. Not when all the blood in my brain had already rushed to my cock.
She was tall for a woman. Lean and fit but still curvy where it mattered most. And my God, those fuck-me legs! I remembered the first time I’d really noticed them. She had been fifteen and wearing a cheerleading uniform. And I’d never been able to look at her the same way since.
Those lean, muscular limbs looked about a mile long now in six-inch designer heels that she wore as comfortably as if she’d strutted out of the womb wearing them. I wanted to lick the length of those legs. I wanted to feel those toned thighs locked around my waist.
Clenching around my face.
Christ, I was a liar. There was no way I was letting her go after one dance.
She’d begun making those beautiful moan-y, breathy, I-need-to-come noises that only a woman can make, and I was close to losing my shit, debating whether to teleport us to privacy or sink my dick into her right there on the dance floor and worry about erasing the minds of onlookers later.
I looked down and saw that one of my hands was rubbing her upper thigh.
And it was wet.
Her thigh. Was. Wet.
I told myself it was only sweat from all of the dancing she’d done. And if I’d been human and unable to smell the difference, I might’ve convinced myself. But my other hand had wandered up under her dress from behind and was rhythmically squeezing and exploring the flesh of her thong-clad ass cheek, rubbing its way toward her hot, needy center—where she was dripping wet.
Fuck me, I needed to stop.
We needed to stop.
But instead, I brushed her hair aside with my chin until my mouth found her neck, kissing and sucking her perfect skin. She moaned and arched into me, and then she rubbed her ass up and down along the length of my erection.
Once.
Twice.
I’d been so wrong before. The girl possessed no survival instincts whatsoever.
None at all.
Because she drew my hand that was on the front of her thigh straight up under her dress to her soaked pussy, and she came against my fingers before I had time to register what was even happening.
My mind blanked, retreating to a dark, desperate, possessive place where there was only the sound of her erratic, panting breaths, her frantic heartbeat, and the sensation of her fluttering, wet clit pressed against my fingers, her cum soaking my palm as I sank my canines into her neck.

Author Bio:
Hettie Ivers is an accidental romance author who likes to escape the stress of her workweek with a good dirty book--preferably one that's also funny.

#GIVEAWAY!

A Kindle Paperwhite
Ends March 28, 2019
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Built by Maggie Marr Blitz and #Giveaway


Built: An Enemies To Lovers Second Chance Bad-Boy Billionaire Alpha Romance
Maggie Marr
Publication date: March 19th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
I hate Jake Warner. Loathe. Can. Not. Stand. No matter how sexy he looks in his jeans with that low-slung tool belt. He had his chance with me and he blew it Big. Time. He’s not getting a second-chance no matter how long I stare into this ice-blue eyes and think about those full lips or his dimples when he smiles. We may have to work together, but that absolutely doesn’t mean that we’ll get back together. Nope. No way. No matter what my heart says, this time I’m listening to my head.
EXCERPT:
“I hate you, Jake Warren. Loathe. Detest. Can’t stand to be around you. I—”
A wicked-slow smile spreads over Jake’s face. A smile that I’m almost willing to risk losing my job over to wipe from his smug mug.
Almost.
One of the reasons I hate that face so damn much is that Jake’s face is perfect. Not perfect in the sense that it’s got nothing wrong with it, because there’s that tiny scar that cuts through his right eyebrow from when he fell out of the tree in Mrs. Gibson’s front yard trying to get my cat, Mr. Biggles, down from the maple tree. Jake was ten and I was seven. That moment, in my childhood, when Jake played Prince Charming to my weeping Damsel in Distress resulted in four stitches, a broken arm, and a saved Mr. Biggles.
But none of that matters now. None of it.
That was twenty years ago and ever since I returned home and took the job at Ryan & Sons Construction, my Dad’s construction company, there’s been nothing, and I mean nothing charming about Jake Warren. In fact everything about him has been downright loathsome.
I. Hate. Jake.
I should get a tattoo. Or maybe a t-shirt.
No matter how perfect his face and body are—those two things don’t matter because I can’t stand his full, cupid-bow lips and indented cleft chin, and I definitely detest his square jaw with high-cut cheekbones. And his dark brown, curly hair and ice-blue eyes that seem to see right through every part of me.
Like this very moment, he’s standing so close to me that I can practically feel his muscles pulsing beneath that sweaty white Stanford t-shirt he’s wearing.
Show off.
So what if you went to Stanford and have perfect biceps and work with your hands and wear a tool belt slung low on your hips.
So. What.
Jake stands in front of me with his hands on his hips, with those lips—those damned pillow-cushion lips—nearly even with my eyes, like he’s some kind of crown prince because he can lift a two-by-four, swing a hammer, and hang drywall…he stands there in his dirty Levi’s with that hip cocked, staring right at me. Knowing full well that he was the boy that saved my cat, kissed me when I was twelve, and saw me naked at sixteen.
And broke my heart at twenty-one.
Well, I’m not naked today. Nope, today I’m pissed. I stand in front of him just back from an afternoon meeting with a Chinese investor who may or may not want Daddy’s company to build two hundred new homes, with my hand on my hip, my tablet in my hand, ready to tell Jake Warren why he should never, never, never speak to a client because that is my job as the front-facing newly minted sales team at Ryan & Sons Construction, and while I’m deadly serious, Jake’s eyes are…are…wickedly playful.
Asshole!
His damn ice-blue eyes are wickedly playful in this completely inappropriate way that causes my nipples to harden and my lady-bits to tingle like they do nearly every day that I work with Jake. Which for the last ten months has been every damn day.
Nope. I hate him. Loathe. Detest.
“Becca”—he lifts an eyebrow and his gaze streaks up and down my body—“you know you love me.” His words are honey. Sweet and slow and slick and sticky and they pull me to him almost as certain as if he’d taken that big strong arm of his and snaked it around my waist and pulled me close.
Which he didn’t do, and in fact hasn’t done in what seems like nearly a lifetime, and another reason why I absolutely can’t stand this man.
“Love you? Ha! I just told you I can’t stand you. Do you even listen to me Jake Warren? Do you listen to anyone? Ever?” I wave the tablet for emphasis because the email I just got from a client—a very important client—proves yet again to me that a) Jake Warren never listens and b) he should be fired so that c) I can run Daddy’s construction company like I was meant to do without any interference from this clown.
“Oh, I hear you, Becca,” Jake says, those ice-blue eyes gazing right past me and toward the open doorway and the construction office filled with support staff and other guys that work for Daddy on various construction crews, all of which Jake Warren heads up. “I think everyone in the entire firm hears you too.”
“Fuck you,” I silently mouth. I take two steps backward, and press my stiletto to the office door, between us and the rest of the company and kick the damn door closed. “Private enough for ya?”
“Guess it depends on what you have in mind, Tiger.”
Heat floods my neck. No one. No. One. calls me Tiger—or no one has since Jake did all those years ago and there have been a whole lot of years, plus one college degree, an MBA, and a failed (very public) engagement since the last time Jake stood this close to me and called me Tiger.
“Becca,” I say between gritted teeth. “That’s Becca to you. Or, if you prefer, you can call me Ms. Ryan,” I say.
“Riiiiiight.” He takes a step closer. “And what if I prefer Tiger?”
I swallow and don’t move because deep down inside as much as I currently hate Jake Warren, I actually, if I’m honest, prefer him calling me Tiger too.


Author Bio:
Maggie Marr is the USA Today Best Selling author of hot contemporary romance. She spends her days working in entertainment and her nights writing. Maggie loves all things pop culture and when she isn't writing, she's reading or binge-watching Netflix. Never miss a new release, sale, bonus content, or extras by signing up for Maggie's newsletter here: maggiemarr.net

#GIVEAWAY!

$25 Amazon gift card
Books & chocolate
Ends March 28, 2019

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Friday, March 22, 2019

#Cover Reveal - Ben by C.M. Marin


Ben
C.M. Marin
(The Chaos Chasers MC, #3)
Publication date: May 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
A biker. A gorgeous, sexy, charming biker. In other words, the kind of guy I swore I wouldn’t even glance at again a long time ago. No, scratch that. Ben is worse than the kind of guy I swore I wouldn’t even glance at again.
He’s everything I don’t want to want. A carefree bad boy with an irritating grin, who thinks he has me all figured out. And… he’s right.
Damn sexy biker.
There’s only one possible explanation for fate to have put him in my path. I’m cursed. I must have been an awful person in a past life, and Ben has been sent to make me pay for my sins. The worst part? I’m too weak to resist him for long. The only thing that keeps me from completely falling in love with the guy is the several thousands of miles that separate us.
But that was before his enemies try to get to me.
Now, all I want is to go to him, and let him hold me. That’s when I realize that I’ve already fallen in love with him.
Damn charming biker.
Previous books in the series:


Author Bio:
C.M. Marin fell in love with books a long time ago. She's a small-town girl who loves all things romance. Steamy contemporary romance and romantic suspense are her guilty pleasures, so when she's not writing away new fictional characters, you can find her with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

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#Cover Reveal - Moonshine and Magnolias by Abigail Sharpe, designed by The Killion Group


Moonshine and Magnolias
Abigail Sharpe
(Just Add Peaches, #1)
Publication date: June 20th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Hotel executive Wendy Marsh puts her career on hold when she inherits half of her family’s inn. Her to-do list? It’s simple: teach her spoiled cousin how to manage Fountenoy Hall, then hightail it back to her structured, careful life in Atlanta. Romance has never been part of Wendy’s plan – so what is it about the sexy history professor researching the inn that she finds so tempting?
Rob Upshaw would be enjoying his time at the Inn at Fountenoy Hall if he wasn’t secretly hunting for a family treasure lost during Prohibition. Only a few minor inconveniences stand in his way. His uncle’s old journals are cryptic, he has only a vague description of the loot, and the beautiful, uptight innkeeper with a subtle sense of humor might hold the key to his quest. Even though Rob’s career is built on facts, he accepts he might have to lie to Wendy. But falling for her? That’s out of the question.


Author Bio:
Abigail is a Boston-bred Yankee now eating grits and saying "y'all" in North Central Florida. She dreamed more of being a stage actress or joining the CIA than being an author. While she still enjoys participating in community theater productions and singing karaoke, the secret-agent career was replaced by hours at her computer, writing stories of love and laughter and happily ever after.
Abigail lives with her husband, two kids, and one crazy princess puppy. You can keep up with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/AbigailSharpeBooks on find her on Goodreads.

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Fool’s Errand by Ophelia Bell Blitz and #Giveaway


Fool’s Errand
Ophelia Bell
(Fate’s Fools, #4)
Publication date: March 19th 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
A lost soul…
You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone. In my case that was literal – I had Ozzie West’s soul and didn’t know it, but now it’s been torn from me and him along with it. I’m afraid I will never get him back.
My heart is broken.
My three mates may try to fill that void, but they don’t understand what he meant to me. They can’t see the memories unlocked by Fate.
Only one man can help, but he’s the one man I’m afraid I can never trust again.
EXCERPT:
“Sing with me,” I whispered as I began to move. I lifted my wet hands from his shoulders to his temples, raking my fingers through his damp curls and holding on, my grip forcing his head to tilt back.
Rohan’s golden gaze fixed on my face, his eyelids fluttering slightly and his breath coming quicker as I fucked him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I want to try . . . ”
He gripped my hips with both hands and took a deep breath. His exhale became a long, plaintive note, his brows creasing with the tension of the first verse of a song to accompany our lovemaking.
The music was the perfect mix of hungry and sweet, and I clung to him as the notes settled inside me. I ached to join in when the tension of the pleasure coiled so tight I needed an outlet before I came too fast, but my voice betrayed me once again. When I tried to sing, the sound just came out as a pitiful croak, so I clamped my mouth shut, focusing on the pleasure to hold back the tears.
I buried my face in his neck, my moan half pleasure, half despair. Rohan stroked the back of my neck, halting mid-verse. “It’ll come back to you, baby. I promise. I’m proof you don’t need a turul soul to sing.”
“Just make love to me,” I whispered, pulling back to look into his eyes. He gazed intently back at me, brow creased and jaw clenched, betraying how my own hurt affected him just as acutely.
I took a deep breath and started rocking my hips again, focusing on the pleasure of our connection as he resumed the song. The music truly helped, even if I couldn’t join in without an instrument.
I let myself get lost in the rhythm he set and the deep notes that rose above the steam. I could draw the pleasure out with him, trusting that he’d let me know when he’d given too much. Rohan urged me on, holding tighter and shifting his hips into mine at a quicker tempo.
The lyrics to the song gave way to his cries of pleasure as we crested together, both of us finding our climax at the same second amid sloshing water and slippery, gasping kisses. Rohan’s strained expression fell into laughter as he relaxed, his skin glowing faintly with my iridescent magic and my own skin glimmering golden and wet.
I sank against him with a sigh, grateful for yet another reprieve from the ever-encroaching threat to my sanity and the added disappointment of losing my voice. Perhaps with enough time and their continued attention, that need would fade and my songs would return. For now, I would enjoy the lucidity when I had it and let them do the singing for me.


Author Bio:
Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren't apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don't mind being with a woman who's in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.
Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and four attention-whoring cats.
If you'd like to receive regular updates on Ophelia's publications, freebies, and discounts, please subscribe to her mailing list: http://opheliabell.com/subscribe

#GIVEAWAY!

A signed paperback copy of Fate's Fools 
+ a $15 Amazon gift card
Ends March 29, 2019

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