Monthly Archives: October 2014
SPOTLIGHT – BITTERSWEET SYMPHONY (BITTERSWEET #4) BY J. L. BECK
Bittersweet Symphony (Bittersweet #4)
By J.L. Beck
**Half of all sales of this book for the month of October will go towards The National Breast Cancer Foundation. If you would like to donate please visit http://www.nationalbreastcancer.org/ for more details**
-This book is suitable only to readers 18++ due to sexual situations, language, and violence.-
I’m a good girl. I don’t go out and party and I most definitely don’t sleep with half the student body. That’s what makes me and Ryder Winchester an unlikely duo. We should never work out, but yet I’m pulled to him like a moth to a flame. I want him, and I know he wants me.
He has secrets that I know I could never understand, but so do I. We all have secrets, things we hide from others in fear of what they would think of us if they ever found out.
I’m a bastard. An asshole. Most days I couldn’t give a shit what someone has to say to me. That is until I meet Kennedy Chaps. She’s different, strong, well opinionated, and completely naive to the person I am… My body, mind, and soul pull to her like no other. I could have her, but I won’t. I won’t taint her. I won’t shut out her light.
We both have secrets so deep that allowing them to escape would be like losing a part of the person we are. But as friendship morphs into something much deeper I feel myself confessing my secrets; things that could very well be the end of us.
Sometimes it’s about finding the right person to tell your secrets to.
Sometimes it’s about the risk.
Sometimes two damaged souls can’t heal all wounds, sometimes love is not enough. Hearts get broken, people lose hope, and love dies.
We are Ryder Winchester and Kennedy Chaps and this is our story.
Worry eats at my insides. I’m scared. Terrified. Sam knows. He obviously knows and told Ryder. I know Ryder is playing it off as nothing, simply looking at me as a way to rid the pain. I want him just as bad as he wants me, but I am not sure I can follow through with everything that’s going on. I have to do something to find a way to stop Sam before he ruins our lives, even if it means sacrificing my own happiness.
I can feel the tears slipping from my eyes at the very idea of never seeing Ryder’s face again, of never being able to show him that life is worth more than what he has been given, of never making him believe that he isn’t anything like his father. He is amazing, kind, generous, loving, protective…I just hope that someday he will realize who he really is.
Wiping away the tears, I fix my hair and force myself to calm down.
Getting out of the car, I walk up the front steps to Ryder’s apartment complex. It has been a week since the incident with Sam and I haven’t heard from him. It is as if he fell off the radar. I try to gather my thoughts and emotions, but once at his door, I have to pull my heart out of my stomach. I am not sure what horrible incident will happen first: Will my heart beat out of control, sending me into cardiac arrest, or will I vomit all over his floor?
Raising my fist to knock on the door, I stop. A noise on the other side of the door startles me, freezing me into place. It sounds like things are being thrown throughout the house.
My heart rate picks up, and my body goes into overdrive as fear finds its way into my mind. I can’t bury it if I tried. Without hesitation, I grab the handle of the door. The coldness of the metal is the only thing I can sense.
Turning it, I open the door and my heart plummets to the floor. Danger registers in my mind, but I’m too worried about Ryder to pay it any attention. The apartment is trashed. It looks as if someone has gone through the place looking for something, but never finding it.
I hear the slamming of doors down the hall… “Ryder?” I call out. Feelings are lodged in my throat. I don’t think I can do this. Taking one look at the apartment, I can tell he is already spiraling out of control. He is losing himself.
“What?” he roars gruffly from down the hall. I can hear the pain laced in his voice. Anger vibrates off of him with every step he takes toward me. He looks nothing like the man I have fallen so helplessly for. Instead, the shell of that person stands before me. He is shirtless and sweaty. His face has a week’s worth of scruff, and his hair is all over the place.
“Are you okay?” I ask as innocently as I can. I have never been more afraid of Ryder than I am in this very moment. I can see the unstableness within him. Like a teeter-totter, he needs something, or someone, to balance him out, but he has to want it, first.
He picks up a nearby bottle of what I assume to be alcohol. He reeks of whiskey and another sweet smell.
“Do I look okay, Kennedy?” he sneers sarcastically. The words are like a slap to my face. What happened to him? I take a soft step backward, not wanting to trap myself within his grasp.
If I am being honest, I know he’s not okay. His eyes are blood shot while his face is a beautiful, ragged mess. He is so damaged, and it hurts my heart. I thought I was the only one suffering, but obviously I was wrong. How could I have been so blind to Ryder’s needs, to what he so desperately needed from me?
“Not really… You look… not…good,” I mumble through my words, not wanting to say the wrong things that may upset him even more. But then my feistiness sparks, and I start to gather my courage. “No one’s heard from you in like a week. You haven’t even called me.” I don’t want to sound needy, but I have missed him. I wanted to make sure he is okay, but I wanted to see him too. My eyes linger over the muscles of his chest, the muscles that make up that delectable V of his.
“Really?” He barks out before taking another chug from the bottle. I seriously need to find every bottle of alcohol in this place and pour it out.
“That’s weird because the only one who called me was you… and then you have my piece of shit father… but that doesn’t really matter now… does it?” I watch him, carefully listening to his slurring thoughts for any hidden meanings.
“It matters…”
“It doesn’t… and I’m not even sure why you’re still here, Kennedy.” He is fucking stupid if he doesn’t know why I am here. He is stupid to assume anything in the state he is in.
“You’re stupid if you don’t know why I’m still here,” I state, trying to hide my anger, knowing he will just get off on it. He is at the tipping point, and I don’t want to give him any more steam.
“I’m stupid…” He lets out a harsh, vile sounding laugh. “I’m the one, but you’re… you’re the innocent, precious, perfect beauty… standing in front of me… trying to pull me off the cliff.”
I look around the room. The couches are overturned, the dining room table broken, glass is all over the place, and everything else is strewn all around. I wonder how the cops haven’t been called yet.
“What happened?” I ask curiously, wanting to take the attention off of me.
“What didn’t happen?” he responds gruffly, pushing off the counter while slamming back another drink. I eye the bottle precariously; I need to get it away from him, but I don’t dare get close to him. I know the Ryder I care about wouldn’t hurt me, but this Ryder is someone darker, meaner, and more abrasive with less boundaries.
“You should probably put the bottle down.”
He eyes me, the darkness within him casting out any good. The light within him is diminishing with every drink.
“You should probably leave.” He takes a step toward me, and my breathing hesitates. Fear spikes down my spine, but I can’t look away from him. My feet are glued to the floor, and I know I won’t leave this place until I save him and bring him back to me. We both might be broken, but he is far more broken than I; if I have to, I will save the two of us, making us whole again.
I shake my head no, afraid that my voice will tremble, giving away just how much he affects me. Before I can even blink, he is directly in front of me, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck.
I am shaking like a leaf in the wind. I know he can feel it. He takes a drink from the bottle again, and the scent of whiskey invades my senses. He smells dark and dangerous, and even though I’m frightened by him, I’m intrigued as well.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asks softly. His voice is that of the Ryder I have grown to know, but the look in his eyes tells me it’s merely a façade.
“No,” I declare, somehow finding my voice. I so badly want to take him into my arms and tell him it will be okay, but I know that isn’t what he needs.
“Are you sure?” he taunts me, his fingers seizing my neck harder. There’s no pain, just discomfort.
Then it dawns on me: he thinks he can hurt me and everyone else who cares about him, like he’s his father. He is wrapped up in his very own dark world, letting the thoughts assault him.
“I know you’re in there somewhere, Ryder. Find your way out, find your way back to me,” I beg, my hands landing in fists against his chest. He’s warm, and I’m so enveloped up in the feeling that I don’t realize we are moving until my back slams into the wall. His body pins mine, a feral look in his eyes as the bottle of whiskey hits the floor.
I can’t breathe, nor can I force myself to close my eyes. I can’t do anything to protect myself from him; I’m at his mercy.
“This is me, Kennedy. The person you thought you knew never existed. My father killed him a long time ago.” His hand skims over my chest, my heartbeat skyrocketing to a point where I’m afraid I will die.
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Check out the other novellas in the Bittersweet serial:
Bittersweet Revenge (Bittersweet #1)
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Bittersweet Love (Bittersweet #2)
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Bittersweet Hate (Bittersweet #3)
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J.L. Beck is the author of Bittersweet Revenge(A Bittersweet Novella Book 1). A four part novella series. She lives in Elroy, WI with her husband Brandon, and daughter Bella. Since the moment she could reach the shelves on the book shelf shes been reading, thus influencing her to write. Her favorite books are those that leave an imprint on your soul. You know the ones that have you putting everything off because you have to find out what happens next.
When she’s not writing or reading(of course)you can find her picking up after her three year old daughter, or explaining to her husband why its unsafe to do something any other way, than the way your wife told you too.
Shes a huge fan of all things drama, with shows like The Vampire Diaries, and Arrow being some of her favorites. She’s addicted to all things social media, caffeine, and Starbucks.
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OUT OF THE DARKNESS BY SIMONE NICOLE
AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/ZAHfqi
~Drew~
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COVER REVEAL – SWING BY MISSY JOHNSON & CARLY GREY
SWING
BY
MISSY JOHNSON AND CARLY GREY
AN EROTIC ROMANCE
**** COVER AND BLURB REVEAL+ $50 Amazon GC GIVEAWAY *****
Enter to win a $50 Amazon GC: http://tinyurl.com/kp24raa
ADD to GR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23365254-swing
The last thing I expected from my husband for our anniversary was another man.
But that’s exactly what I got.
Six feet tall, sexy as fuck and a cock that made my eyes water.
One night.
No limits.
While he watched.
I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did.
Or to see this whole other side of my husband that I never knew existed.
But now I’m hooked.
I want more.
I need more.
I crave more.
Excerpt:
“Why do you like to watch?” she asks, her voice curious. Her eyes drop
as though she’s embarrassed by her question. I smile at her innocence,
wetting my lips as I think about it.
How can I possibly put into words the pure arousal I feel watching her
be fucked by another man? There’s something so raw, so sexy about
watching another man pleasure her. I feel powerful and powerless at
the same time.
Being there in the room, it’s almost like I’m standing outside of my
own body seeing things I would never ordinarily see.
The curl of her toes when he slides his hand between her thighs.
The gentle arch of her back as his finger moves inside of her.
Hearing the soft moan escape from her lips, and seeing the stiffness
of her nipples as he rolls his tongue over them.
Knowing that I am in control even though I’m not.
How can I possibly explain that to her?
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BLOG TOUR – SLOW BURN (LOST KINGS #1) BY AUTUMN JONES
Synopsis
President of the Lost Kings MC, Rochlan “Rock” North, hasn’t managed to find a woman capable of making him want to curb his wild ways—until he meets sweet, innocent, married lawyer Hope Kendall.
Forced to represent the outlaw biker, Hope is rattled by her immediate attraction to Rock. Hope is a good girl in a good marriage. Rock thrills her, but she’s not going to throw away everything she’s built on a fling with her criminal client.
Rock respects Hope enough to leave her alone, even as he realizes he’s become a little obsessed with her. When their connection endangers her life, he’ll have to destroy her in order to save her.
After tragedy strikes, Rock is determined to earn Hope’s forgiveness and convince her that even with their staggering differences, they’re meant to be together
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Excerpt
to. Already in my head, I’d laid claim to this woman whose first name I didn’t even know.
About the Author
In addition to writing, Autumn runs her own business from home. A big fan of horror movies and spooky books, it wasn’t until recently she realized all the tales she writes need to include a hunky hero and a happily ever after.
When she’s not writing, she spends time listening to music, going to concerts, reading, acting, and collecting nail polish. While those things are fun, Autumn is happiest sitting in front of her computer into the wee hours of the night, weaving stories the characters in her head whisper to her.
She lives in Upstate New York with her husband and their three rescue dogs. She is actively involved with several dog rescue groups and her local RWA chapter.
Giveaway
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BLOG TOUR ~ BENEATH THE SCARS by MELANIE MORELAND
Event Organized by
❤MaE Book Tours & Promo Stars Services❤
Synopsis
The sound of the ocean, the crash of the waves as they kick up against the sand and rocks—these are the only sounds Megan Greene wants to hear. She wants to leave the rest of the world behind, and find some peace. The offer of a private house on the beach, set in a small town in Maine, is perfect. Time to think—to be by herself. It’s all she wants. It’s the escape she needs. Until she stumbles across the painting that seems to echo her own chaotic mindset. Until she meets the unfriendly artist behind the stormy painting and discovers his secrets.
All Zachary Adams wants is to be left alone. His canvases, and the unending scope
of the ocean and sand, are his life. They direct him—fill his hours. Bring him focus. Until she enters his life. She dredges up memories of the past—the haunting images he has hidden for years; the fears he has never shared. A story he keeps buried below the surface.Can she make him see what he is missing? Can he trust her enough to believe?
Together they embark on a journey where their pasts collide and threaten to tear them apart. Will their fragile bond hold or wash away with the ebbing tide?
Genre Adult Contemporary Romance
Expected Publication Date October 14th 2014
Excerpt #1
As I descended the few stairs to the beach, I was surprised to see the large golden retriever as well as the mysterious Zachary. I stood for a minute, observing him in private. He was standing, barefoot in the surf, staring out over the water as his dog frolicked close by. Zachary was a tall, dark silhouette against the sand and stormy, strange-colored sky of the late afternoon. Wearing dark jeans and the same overcoat that showed off his broad shoulders, a beanie once again pulled low on his head, he stood with his hands in his pockets, motionless, as the water swept across his bare feet. The rolled-up edges of his pants were dark with the ocean spray clinging to the material. I shivered just watching him. The water had to be freezing.
Seeing her new friend, Dixie let out a happy, little yelp, which had the retriever bounding over to her, once again licking her head and huffing as he greeted her. The two of them took off, heading right toward Zachary. He leaned down, greeting Dixie, allowing her a sniff, then patted her head and straightened up. He didn’t turn around or acknowledge my presence. With a roll of my eyes, I walked forward, stopping when I was close enough to be heard, but not have my feet in the frigid water. I waited, but he said nothing, ignoring me completely.
Unfriendly indeed.
“That’s Dixie—my dog.”
His chin dipped with a brief nod. “Elliott.”
I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “You or the dog?”
His lips quirked at the edges. “My dog.”
“I’m staying at the Harpers’ house.”
He nodded.
“I’m not Karen—I’m a friend of hers.”
His sarcasm was thick. “I realize. I have met her—more than once. There is a slight resemblance, perhaps, but I can see you aren’t her. Your hair rather gives that away.”
“I’m sure it was a thrill for her,” I murmured, surprised to hear the trace of a British accent in his voice. I chose to ignore the remark about my hair.
Nothing.
“They’re letting me stay here for a while.”
“How kind.”
I shook my head. Was he for real?
“I’m Megan. Megan Greene.”
Silence.
I searched my brain for something to say. “Looks like a storm’s coming in.”
“Observant.”
I frowned at him—definitely rude. His voice, however, despite its unwelcoming tone, was low and rich sounding, his subtle accent curling around the words when he spoke. I wanted to hear more than a few monosyllables from him, and to hear him say my name.
“Aren’t your feet cold, Zachary?”
He glanced down and shrugged, still facing the water, not even acknowledging the fact I knew his name. “Not really. I’m used to the cold.”
I decided to try a different subject—maybe one that would open him up a little. “I saw your work at the gallery in town; you’re very gifted.”
Again, he nodded.
“Your Tempest painting is”—I searched for the right word—“exceptional.”
“It’s not for sale.”
Disappointed at his words, I studied his partially hidden profile. Again his jaw was covered in stubble, and all I could really see was his nose and the downturned set of his full mouth. Some wayward hair sticking out from his beanie was blowing in the wind; its color not easy to make out. I was sure it was dark, but I couldn’t see enough to determine if I was correct. I wanted to step forward, force him to look at me, but there was something about his tense stance that screamed “back off.” He was obviously uncomfortable with me being this close, so I remained where I was, even though I felt some bizarre sort of need to get closer. I had to struggle not to move beside him, slip my hand into his, and offer him some sort of comfort; to loosen the tense set of those broad shoulders. I shook my head at the strange urge.
“Would you perhaps reconsider?”
“No. Jonathon already inquired on your behalf. I have it on loan to the gallery as a personal favor. It’s not for sale—at any price.”
I smiled, attempting to tease him. “Everything has its price, Zachary.”
I wasn’t prepared for the venom in his voice when he spoke.
“I’m fucking aware that’s the way most of the world works. I don’t conduct my life that way.”
Then he turned and walked away, his long strides eating up the distance, his unbuttoned coat billowing out behind him. He whistled for Elliott, who dropped the stick from his mouth and chased after his master.
Both Dixie and I stood staring at the retreating figures. Not once did Zachary pause or look back, while Elliott raced ahead of him. I waited until he had climbed the stairs and disappeared from sight, never taking my eyes off him.
I blinked and looked over the water.
Now I could say I had met my neighbor.
That went well.
Excerpt #2
Megan stood gazing at me, her head shaking slowly back and forth, but she didn’t move. “You don’t mean that.”
Why wasn’t she listening to me? Why wasn’t she leaving?
“Get out of my house. Leave.” I pointed to the door, making sure she understood. “Now.”
“You wouldn’t send me out into a storm, Zachary. Your words are just empty threats to try and get me to hate you.” She came closer, her voice soothing and calm.
I barked out a harsh laugh as I stepped back. “You should hate me.”
“I don’t.” She edged forward again.
I frowned at her. Why was she coming closer? She should be backing away; even if she knew I wouldn’t throw her out of the house, she should want to move as far away from me—from my hideous face—as possible.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not afraid of you.” She moved forward, closing any remaining distance between us to mere inches. I tried to step back, but I had nowhere to go, my back hitting the stone of the fireplace. I dragged in a shaking breath, only to have my already overloaded senses fill with her warm scent, shutting my eyes as it settled around me like a soothing blanket. When I opened them a moment later, it was to her wide, dark gaze. There was no revulsion or pity in their depths; only a simple calm, beseeching stare. She looked vulnerable as we gazed at each other, the room around us ceasing to exist.
Why was she looking at me like that? What did she want?
“Zachary,” she whispered.
It was too much. She was too close and too—
I lifted my hands to push her away, except when they wrapped around the top of her arms, it was as if they had a mind of their own. Time seemed to stop as my fingers caressed the smooth, silky skin not covered by her T-shirt; the warmth of her burning through my fingers to my very core. My arms flexed as they dragged her closer until our faces were almost touching. Her hands held tightly to my loose sweater, bunching the fabric in her small fists so hard, I knew the cuts on her palms would reopen. I knew her blood would seep into the material, forever staining it with her essence. It didn’t matter; I couldn’t let go of her. I held her so close it was as if I was trying to mold her into my skin and make her part of my body. Her hot breath washed over my face, and I could hear my own ragged, harsh breaths filling the room.
Still, neither of us said a word as we stared, clutching and holding each other, the heat between us burning brighter every second that passed. A small whimper escaped her lips, a pleading, needy sound and I was lost. My mouth covered hers roughly and I jerked her flush to me, not allowing a sliver of space between us. I groaned into her wet, warm mouth as I felt her hands slip into my hair, holding me close to her face. Her tongue was like silk on mine as we caressed and tasted, our tongues stroking and entwining. The taste of her was as sweet as I knew it would be, her lips as soft and her effect on me crippling. I plunged my hands into her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, directing her where I needed her to go with my touch. Megan gripped me tighter as I claimed her; needing and wanting more. Her heart hammered powerfully in her chest, so I knew she could feel mine as well. Small sounds from deep in her throat filled my ears as I ravished her mouth, lost in the heat and wonder that was Megan.
Excerpt #3
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” I snapped. I hated pity.
“I’m not feeling sorry for you. I said I was sorry people chose to be unkind because of your scars. There’s a difference,” she snapped right back. A dull flush tinged her cheeks, her eyes glinting and fiery with annoyance as she frowned at me. Despite her anger, I found her incredibly attractive and my lips quirked.
“What?” she spat at me.
I shook my head as I chuckled and grabbed the bottle of wine to top up our glasses. I might be low on food, but I never ran out of wine. “I was thinking how I wanted to capture you on film again, looking exactly like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like a kitten trying to act like a tiger. All growls and swipes of your little paws as you hiss at me, putting me in my place.” I reclined back, taking a deep swallow of my wine as I gazed at her over the rim of the glass. “You’re very sexy when you’re angry. Did you know that?”
“Stop it.”
“It’s true. Your eyes flash, and the color on your cheeks is sublime. Your glare, which I’m certain you mean to be angry, is more of a turn on than anything.”
“I am angry at you. You twist everything I say.”
I tilted my head in acknowledgment. “I know. It’s a bad habit I picked up after years of being lied to.” Lifting her hand, I kissed the knuckles. “I apologize. I’ll try harder.” I placed another kiss on her skin. “But I still want to capture you when you’re angry.”
Rolling her eyes, she stood up, taking our empty plates. “Somehow, Zachary, I have a feeling you’ll get what you wish for without much effort.” She sighed as she walked to the sink. “You seem to be able to make me angry faster than anyone I’ve ever met.”
I closed the distance between us in two large steps. Cupping the back of her neck, I brought her mouth to mine. “Anger is simply another form of passion,” I murmured against her lips.
“A tiring one,” she returned in a whisper. “And I won’t ever lie to you.”
“Everyone lies.”
“No, they don’t. Whatever world you were in where they did, I’m glad you’re out of it.” She paused, frowning. “I’m glad you’re here—with me.”
I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t want to think about the past, or groceries, or even what was going to happen tomorrow. All I wanted was to lose myself with her again. To block out everything else.
I picked her up, striding down the hall with her cradled in my arms, my mouth covering hers.
She wanted me to be happy. Having her wrapped around me, buried inside her, made me happy.
Dreamcast
My Cast of Characters for Beneath the Scars…
Zachary Adams ~ Henry Cavill
His eyes are so expressive and he has that sense of ruggedness about him that reminds me of Zachary. There is something strong about his demeanor and when he smiles it is like the sun coming out. He was the perfect choice.
Megan Greene ~ Alexis Bledel
That pretty next door look, with a beautiful smile. Add a few freckles and brown contacts, she is exactly as I pictured Megan.
Jared Cameron ~ Ryan Gosling
Good looking and he knows it. He knows how to use it. I think he’d portray a great Jared with enough smarminess to give you the shivers.
Karen Harper ~ Anne Hathaway
Anne portrays that confident beauty Zach described. Sure of herself, outspoken and loyal. All traits I think she possesses.
Playlist
About the Author
Melanie Moreland lives a happy and content life in a quiet area of Ontario with her husband and four children. Nothing means more to her than her friends and family, and she cherishes every moment spent with them.
Known as the quiet one with the big laugh, Melanie works for the sporting teams of a local university. Her (box) office job, while demanding, is rewarding as she cheers on her team to victory.
While seriously addicted to coffee, and somewhat challenged with all things computer-related and technical, she relishes baking, cooking, and trying new recipes for people to sample. She loves to throw dinner parties and socialize, and also enjoys traveling, here and abroad, but finds coming home is always the best part of any trip.
Melanie delights in writing a good romance story with some bumps along the way, but is a true believer in happily ever after. When her head isn’t buried in a book, it is bent over a keyboard, furiously typing away as her characters dictate their creative story lines to her even more inspired tales, for all to enjoy.
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BLOG TOUR – LONG ODDS (A SHOWING HEARTS NOVEL) BY MELISSA ASLESON
This is a story of deception, lust, fear, loss, rebuilding and healing. Only being in her early twenties, Averyana Chambers has a very deluded view of the world. After four years away at college, it is time to return and face the dark secrets that lie within the walls of her childhood home. Her brain and heart are constantly at war, and Avery just wants to find a balance. Avery has never gambled, especially not with her heart. Things are never what they seem and uncovering the truth is always a little to late in Avery’s world. How much tragedy can she stand before she gets completely lost in despair?
White roses. I both hate and find them intriguing at the same time. The first white rose I ever received was when my grandfather died. I was seven years old playing with my dolls under a giant oak tree at the cemetery while the grave-side service commenced. A man with a large rough hand gives me a long-stemmed white rose. His deep voice instructed me to give it to my mother for him. I looked up only to see the outline of a large dark-haired man, his back to the sun. I stood up to question him, curious why he didn’t do it himself when he quickly backed away. I stood there watching him disappear into the packed parking lot. After the service, my mother found me. I had resumed playing with my dolls. When I handed her the rose and told her about the man, she quickly ran to the parking lot. She was frantically looking for the man that I could only describe to her as a big with scarred hands and black hair. When she returned she was shaking me, demanding answers of whom and where the man went. My distressed father stepped in when I had no more information to offer and relieved me of my mom’s irrational behavior. After my grandfather had died, she was never quite the same.
The second time I received a single white rose was a similar experience, but this time the man didn’t speak. I was an eighteen year old saying my last respects to my parents at the same cemetery. The man was standing back watching me with a single long-stemmed white rose. I could feel his eyes on me the whole service. He was in a dark suit and sunglasses. I remember that he had a very distinct nose. It had been broken several times, and he had a raised scar that was above his right eye. He had handed the rose to me with a sad smirk before my aunt ushered me towards the limo. I have often wondered over the years if it was the same man. They didn’t seem to have anything in common in my memory of when I was seven, except for a single white rose. Since then, I’ve received white roses on my birthday every year for the last four years.
Today, however, is not my birthday. I look at the arrangement of two dozen long stem roses in a heavy crystal vase. The smell alone evokes so many emotions. The distinct, sweet smell reminds me of very happy memories of my grandparents’ home. They had a vast variety of roses. My grandmother loved them. On the other hand, it reminds me of death, sorrow and the people I miss desperately, especially right now. I just stare at the tiny white envelope with my name inscribed in the middle. This is the first time I have gotten an envelope of any kind. I am almost afraid to see what may lie inside.
Hello, I’m Melissa I love books and I am a very amateur writer. I started writing because both my parents were diagnosed with cancer within months of each other. I had moved back home to take care of my mother the sicker of the two and I found it hard to read, the emotions were deeper than I want to go at the time. So I stopped reading for a while. My cousin suggested that I write a letter to cancer to let out my frustrations, it turned into something else completely, I was able to escape and write my own story. Thus far I have a two part series published. My first two books are funny and light-hearted. The current work in progress is darker and deeper than I have gone.
Interesting facts about me; I am fluent in profanity and proud of it. I drink way too much wine. I have more shoes than storage room for them. More makeup and crazy jewelry than I should have, but I love it all. I will never turn down a shopping trip of any kind. My family and friends are the most important people in my life. I love horses and just about anything purple. I have a usual fondness for the smell of Pine-Sol. I believe music heals. I shamelessly love to dance and sing along wherever or whenever the music provokes me to do so. The next aspiration for me is to be featured in Inked magazine (I have a tattoo addiction as well).
I love to engage people and I will talk to anyone, anytime. I pride myself being open-minded, I occasionally ask blunt and inappropriate questions because I am so eager to learn about things I am not familiar with. I am fascinated by the human condition. All of my inspirations come from my real life experiences, people I have met, and music. I often wonder what kind of grief caused a sad song to be written, what events caused an angry song to be written and the circumstances of a love song.
I grew up in an extremely small and judgmental town. Everybody knew your business, sometimes before you even did. From a young age my parents instilled in me that it was better to be disliked for who you really are, than admired for who you are not. That is a virtue I live by today, I don’t pretend to be something or someone I am not for anyone-anytime. The people I surround myself with are the people who really understand me, they walk in with me, when everyone else walks out. They may be a group of few, but less is definitely more in this case. They are all precious to me.
Lastly, but no less important, I hope to engage my readers to laugh, possibly cry and become a little aroused. I know that I was lead down this path for a reason, so I will graciously follow it to wherever it leads me. I plan on letting me fingers fly across the keys as long as the opportunity allows. I hope you enjoy my stories as much as I enjoyed writing and sharing them. Thank you to every reader that has or will ever take a chance on me.
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NEW RELEASE – DOM, A MAN APART BY ETHAN RADCLIFF
Title: DOM, a man apart
Author: Ethan Radcliff
Release Date: Oct 15, 2014
Published by: Bitten Press, LLC
Genre: BDSM Erotica
✦✦Synopsis✦✦
In the world of pain and pleasure, Charles Damien Macavoy reigned. He was a man apart, one who require more than most. He was a Master of BDSM. He’d been asked by another Dom and good friend to train the Dom’s current sub and love interest. Charles had trained many, but found himself attracted to his new trainee.
He was aware the fascination would wear off, it always did, and he’d returned the trainee to her Master willing and ready to submit. Lurking in the shadows of a world few are accustomed to is evil. Sometimes a thing of beauty has hidden thorns. Sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted.
✦Excerpt✦
“Oh fuck,” she whispered. “Oh fuck,” she continued. She was on all fours, her head hung down just above the hot sensuous streams of water from the jets in the tub. The sight before him, his cock sliding in and out of her, the cheeks of her perfect ass shook with each hard arousing thrust hardening his balls. His abdomen was so fucking tight he was unsure if he was going to be able to hold back much longer. Then she began to tremble. “Charles, oh fuck!” she yelled at him. “I’m coming!”
Amazon US…http://www.amazon.com/D-O-M-Ethan-Radcliff-ebook/dp/B00OID46TQ/
✦✦About Ethan Radcliff✦✦
I’ve been writing since I was a kid. I love creating and tried my hand at art, not bad but not good enough. A guy’s gotta eat. Through high school I wrote erotic stories, kept them in a notebook, let a few of my girlfriends read them. Yeah, played football, baseball, but my brain never stopped thinking of sex. I guess we think about it all the time. Been on face book for a while never did anything interesting when I was on until I started to see all the writers and then some poets posting their erotic prose. Men who were writing erotic romance and stories, I knew it was my time to get out the old note book and throw on some poems. Some are old and some are new, the ones about BDSM are newer. In high school or college I wasn’t on that train of thought. I see a picture it sets me off. A see an attractive women it sets me off. The jiggle of a full ass or heavy breasts, gets me going. Yeah, my mind always is on a beautiful face or body.
✦✦Social Media Links✦✦
FaceBook ♦ Blog ♦ Twitter ♦ Tumblr ♦ Amazon Author Page ♦ Goodreads
✦✦Purchase Ethan’s other books✦✦
The Taming of Molly Jenkings
Amazon US ♦ Amazon UK ♦ Kobo ♦ B&N ♦ ITunes
The Wait, Britt’s Undoing
Amazon US ♦ Amazon UK ♦ Kobo ♦ B&N ♦ ITunes
The Magician, Male Escort
Amazon US ♦ Amazon Uk ♦ Kobo ♦ B&N ♦ ITunes
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RELEASE DAY BLITZ – LEFT BEHIND BY VI KEELAND AND DYLAN SCOTT
Left Behind by Vi Keeland & Dylan Scott is LIVE!
Now is your chance to meet Zack & Nikki!
Available at:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1w9RZsI
Barnes & Noble: TBD
iTunes –http://bit.ly/1q28KyN
Kobo – http://bit.ly/1peODgS
Google Play – http://bit.ly/1vbD7aL
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22438116-left-behind
Want to read the first few chapters? Sign up for Vi’s mailing list now and get a sneak peek! http://eepurl.com/0ABfr
Blurb
Two stories so deeply intertwined, you’ll think you know how they intersect…but you’ll be wrong….
Zack Martin
The day I met Emily Bennett my whole world changed. Sure, we were just kids, but I was old enough to know my life would never be the same. She was my best friend. My destiny. My fate. I wasn’t wrong…I just didn’t know how twisted fate could be.
Nikki Fallon
After the death of my mother, moving from my dark and dreary trailer park to sunny California, I was focused on one thing – finding a sister I’d only just learned existed. Falling in love with him wasn’t part of the plan. But he filled a void I never knew was possible to fill. He had to be my fate. My destiny. Until the day I finally found out who my sister was…and how twisted fate could be.
Giveaway
$25 Gift Card
Share Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/MDk5NjRmMDM5ZDM4YTBjYWM0YzAyYzM0NGI2ODRhOjQ4NA==/
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SPOTLIGHT TOUR – THAT`S A PROMISE BY VICTORIA KLAHR
Pain isn’t new to me.I’ve been to hell only to find it never really leaves when you get back. It haunts me through nightmares, unrequited love, lies, broken hearts, and now death.
A monster almost took my life.
My best friend carries half my soul a world away.
My boyfriend broke my heart but refuses to let me go.
And my father is dead.
I don’t believe in fate and I don’t believe in happily-ever-afters, but for some reason, I still hope.
Live, even with a tainted spirit.
Long for my other half to come back to me.
Risk another broken heart, just to feel loved again.
And refuse to let another horror break me.
In the face of my most recent tragedy, I have to decide whether forgiveness is something I can give. But even if that’s an option, can I be forgiven?
I’m in a sea of black. The beautiful May day gives no impression that there is any sadness or grief in the air. It’s one of those days that you want to spend outside, smelling the new blooming flowers, getting some sun, and walking in the grass barefoot, but none of those things hold any interest for me.
Everything is a blur around me, a haze that mirrors my own depression. I know people are talking to me, but I don’t hear them. They express sadness in their words, but most of them never sympathized with us before today. They talk as if they know us, but where were they before? They live their lives talking shit behind people’s backs, but don’t see the hypocrisy in their fake condolences.
I’ve learned to ignore the whispers and stares, a lesson received repeatedly as I grew up in what some would call an “unconventional” household. Apparently punching everyone who bullies you isn’t the socially acceptable way to handle things, so I try to just ignore them. I don’t want or need to let any of their negativity in, so I remain quiet. There’s been enough sadness in our lives, and there’s no need for nasty words from nosey neighbors to pile onto that pain.
A person in a black suit finishes shoveling dirt into the cold, deep grave. I focus on the earth closing around the person I loved so immensely and to whom I felt so close. The ground consumes the casket and takes my loved one away into a lonely pit; permanently putting an end to the best person I will ever know.
I look at my dad sitting next to me. He is distraught, but well medicated for the occasion, only showing emotion when he remembers he just lost the love of his life. He seems to have aged ten years in the past week. He was once the strongest and most commanding person I knew, but today, he looks like a child. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything except for the essentials. He exists, but he’s not living. He looks up at me and I feel like maybe he wants to reach out and say something to comfort me, but I know his internal pain limits him from showing affection. I put my hand on his shoulder to show I’m here, hoping he understands what I mean.
People are finally leaving. Leaving us behind to grieve together in peace. That’s a lie. There is no peace for us, and there won’t be for a long time. With the preparations for the funeral complete, I have all the time in the world to sit and think about the gravity of what I just lost. That’s not peace. That’s torture.
“Dad,” I say, “I think that maybe we should head back to the house.” He sits there, giving no indication that he heard me suggest our departure.
“Dad,” I try again, after a minute. “Let’s say goodbye, and go home.” I can’t stand to be here any longer.
He stands slowly and walks over to the heap of dirt covering a life that was once vibrant and lively. He collapses onto the mound, and at first I’m startled by the sudden fall. Once I hear the heart wrenching sobs that escape his mouth, I understand he is saying his goodbye. I hear him murmuring about his undying love, and decide to give him some privacy.
I look toward the entrance of the cemetery, shaking myself out of the haze that I was in. I don’t even recall walking this far to get to the grave site, but I don’t want to remember, so I don’t try to conjure up the memory.
A figure leans against one of the nearby trees and I start to sweep my eyes past until recognition hits me in the chest heavily. I don’t think he wanted to be seen, but he was caught and he knows it. My throat starts to constrict and pain obstructs my chest.
He hasn’t changed much since the last time I saw him, except that he has no smile on his face today. He’s still breathtakingly handsome… but he’s also still the asshole I left behind at the café a year ago.
Why is he here? How dare he show his face here on a day like today?
I’m in such a state of shock that I lose concept of space and time. I stare at him for a good two minutes before I jerk back to reality.
He gives me a small wave and a slight lift of his beautiful lips. It is a sad and withdrawn smile, enough for me to know he understands exactly what happened.
I glare back at him, not in any mood to be civil, and start stomping my way toward him, intent on giving him a piece of my mind. He has no right to be here.
As I draw closer to him, he pulls himself from the tree and approaches. We meet up and stand so close I almost forget the reason why I came up to him. In my mind’s stuttering state, he speaks first.
“Hi Josie.” His deep, dominant voice washes over me, and I’m angry that it thrills me to hear his voice again. I swallow down the warmth, and try to keep my guard intact.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss. “I’m pretty sure I made it clear I never wanted to see you again. How dare you show your face here?”
“Jo… I just wanted to come and say how sorry I am about your loss. I heard about Will, and I needed to come see how you were doing,” he responds, sadness clear from the roughness of his voice.
Hearing him use my nickname with his gentle tone makes me weak. I wrap my arms around my body to try and keep my anger from being impacted by his kindness.
“I don’t want you here,” I whisper, looking anywhere but at him. I don’t want him to see me break down ever again, but between my loss and seeing him, I don’t know if I will be able to hold back. In that one sentence, filled with the longing and sadness that I didn’t want to show, I made it clear to him that I’m still hurting over what happened.
“I understand. I needed to make sure you’re okay. I know how hard this is for you.” He slowly starts to reach out his hand, and while my cheek tingles at the thought of him touching even an inch of my skin, I think he knows that it’s unwelcome. As I turn the slightest fraction away, he lets his hand fall back to his side, a look of regret crossing his face.
“I can’t do this. Dad needs me right now. I have to take him back to the house,” I say, wanting to get rid of him and the memories he is bringing back.
“Let me stay with you for the day. We can catch up and I can help you with things. Today is tough as it is, let me help,” he says, confidence and determination starting to come back into his personality. This is the man I knew.
I hear footsteps behind me as my dad walks up to us. He stands there, lost in a world I don’t want to enter. He said his goodbye and now he’s retreated back into his shell. I look up at my unexpected visitor and get ready to tell him goodbye for the last time.
“Mr. Sommers, I am so sorry for your loss,” he says softly to my dad. “Josie and I were talking about heading back to the house to catch up and throw away some of the food your neighbors sent over.” He gives me a sly smile and then returns his attention to my dad. “Would one extra person be okay?”
My dad grunts and gives a barely noticeable nod, and we both know him well enough to know that he has accepted the offer. I shake my head at his response.
“Dad, go ahead to the car. I’ll be there in a couple minutes,” I say, hoping to convince Blake Porter to leave. When Dad is almost at the car, I whip myself around to scowl at the same stubborn Blake I used to know. He has a small cocky smirk playing on his lips, and I don’t like how distractingly handsome he still is.
“You need to leave and never come back around here or me again. I can barely even look at you without wanting to punch you in your stupid face!”
The last part is only partially true; a part of me wants to hit him again, and the other part wants to kiss him. His smile grows a little after he hears me say that, because he knows me well enough to figure out that I really do want to hit him.
“I get that you never wanted to see me again after the last time, Josie. Just let me be here for you today. Let me be your friend this one time. I can help. You know I can help,” he says sincerely. I know he can help, but that scares me.
I take a deep breath and try to sort out my thoughts. He is the last person I need to be talking to, and the second person I’ve wanted to talk to since this happened. I know exactly who is standing before me, and I know without a doubt that if I let him back in, I will be hurt and betrayed all over again.
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1qteiTC
Social Media Links:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7304003.Victoria_Klahrhttp://victoriaklahrwrites.blogspot.com/
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NEW RELEASE – FOSTERING LOVE (THE SOUL SISTERS SERIES) BY VICTORIA JONES
Fostering Love
The Soul Sisters Series
By
Victoria Johns
* * * *
A few review snippets I’ve received so far…..
Read it in a day and loved it! Can’t wait for Book 2!
Mrs A Grinnell, UK Independent Reviewer and lover of chick lit fiction.
*****
First time I’ve read a book in just over a day in a looooong time
Mrs A Thomas, UK Independent Reviewer and follower of contemporary romance fiction
*****
Finished it and couldn’t put it down. WOW, it should be a huge success!
Mrs J Elkington, UK independent Reviewer and fan of romance fiction
*****
From the very start you’ll fall in love with our dear Dolly and find yourself begging for more from the Soul Sisters. This new author will not fail to deliver.
Miss J Moss, UK Independent Reviewer and local blogger.
*****
Gotta say I absolutely loved it. Just what I wanted from a romance novel. A great story with hot sex!
Miss S Jones, Reader and Supporter of Indie Authors, Kentucky USA
*****
I loved their story, freaking amazing.
Hopeluvsbooks Blog, Tennessee USA
*****
More about the Soul Sisters Series…
The Soul Sisters of Hawkstown grew up together and have formed a bond so strong that they’ve become like family…
Dalton Frobisher is a local photographer and came to live in Hawkstown under tough circumstances, she needed the love and support of a good family and really hit gold when she teamed up with her other sisters from an early age. She’s tall, curvy and full of sass and attitude.
Aneelia Prince is an educated local girl with city girl brains, she wants nothing more than to grow up and be happy in the community she’s come to love. She’s feisty and has a personality large enough to keep Dalton and the others in check.
Charlotte Groves is the sister’s resident privileged princess and comes from one of the exclusive Hawkstown family’s. The girls have become her ‘normal’ family and help her escape from the confines of a country club lifestyle she’s forced to endure.
Florence Smith works at the local high school teaching English, she’s the groups resident dreamer and lives her life according to romance poems and sonnets. Flo is a firm believer in fairy tales and waiting for your Prince Charming.
Together, they’ve been inseparable since the start of high school and have fought battles like true friends would. To each other they have become as dependable as true family and need each other more than ever as their lives take on new twists and turns.
Fostering Love Book Synopsis
Fostering Love is the first book in the Soul Sisters Series, which tells the story of four girls, friendship and their path to finding ‘the one’.
Being “soul sisters” is a way of life for Dalton, Aneelia, Charlotte and Florence.
Growing up together means they’ve shared all of life’s major highs and lows and managed to survive with a friendship so strong that real blood sisters would be jealous of it.
Dalton Frobisher has loved the same guy since she was a teenager.
It’s just unfortunate that he doesn’t love her back, or rather, can’t.
Growing up around the person you believe should be yours is hard, seeing him with other girls is harder but watching him leave is torture. It’s a constant state of grief because he’s still in your life and you can’t have him.
Life is full of regrets and not telling him how she felt was the biggest regret she had… so far. Dalton wasn’t going to miss that opportunity the next time it came around.
She just didn’t expect the fallout to be so… life changing.
LINKS
Amazon UK/Europe link: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Fostering-Love-Soul-Sisters-Book-ebook/dp/B00O1H3WQW/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1412060578&sr=1-1&keywords=fostering+love
Amazon US link: http://www.amazon.com/Fostering-Love-Soul-Sisters-Book-ebook/dp/B00O1H3WQW/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1412063797&sr=8-8&keywords=fostering+love
About the Author
Victoria Johns is a writer who enjoys sharing a happily ever after and believes that it’s every good girl’s dream to experience a steamy one. Growing up in North West England in a large family surrounded by love and support she found her Prince Charming many years ago and enjoys living the life they’ve made with their son.
She’s always had a creative imagination and decided that some of the stories bubbling in her head needed to be shared, so she’s created this pen name to give them their freedom to be loved by others.
When she’s not writing she’s overdosing on crisps, Rosé wine, trashy TV and raunchy reads.
Links:
Website: www.victoriajohnsbooks.com
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Victoria-Johns/864940723534646
Twitter: @victoriajohns75
Email: Victoriajohns75@gmail.com
Hashtags for trending: #fosteringlove #victoriajohns #soulsisters #badassfairystories
Please note, I will be available on facebook and twitter all day on release day, should you or your followers have any questions, I will do my very best to try and answer every question
Book Loving Pixies 