Daily Archives: 02/12/2015

RELEASE BLITZ – Snowed In by Lila Monroe



Title: Snowed In

Author: Lila Monroe

Genre: Contemporary Romance

 Release Date: December 2, 2015




Throwing a blow-out bash for hot rockstar-turned-music exec Ace Carmichael should be as easy as pecan pie. It’s my chance to prove my party-planning skills, but this bad boy client isn’t making life simple with his broody looks and aversion to shirts. If only he’d stop tempting me to jingle all the way…to his hot tub…this could be my big break.

But thanks to four feet of snow, the event of the year is suddenly a party for two. So deck the halls with a dangerously sexy tattooed rocker, a dozen cases of champagne and…me.

When the snow melts, Santa might not be the only one who’s coming. So what’s it going to be this year: naughty or nice?







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I give a very theatrical, hopefully convincing yawn. “Wow, it’s late and I’m beat. Time for bed.” I click off the television as Ace stands and helps me to my feet.

​He doesn’t let go of my hand. We’re close enough that I can feel heat radiating from his body. I breathe in the scent of him, pine and snow. He’s only wearing a thin black tee shirt, and I’m pretty sure I can pick out the definition of every part of his body.

​He still hasn’t let go of my hand. Lightly, he runs his thumb across my palm.

​“I don’t know if you got the full tour of the house. Best thing about it, in my opinion, is the spa hot tub. It’s just outside.”

​“Oh?” I should take my hand away, but my body won’t do what I tell it. “It’s a little cold out there, isn’t it?”

​“Once you’re in, you won’t even notice. I’m planning on a midnight soak.” He pulls me a little closer, mischief in his expression. “Why don’t you join me?”

​“I.” There’s nothing I can say that’ll make sense. Ace grins. It’s a wicked smile, that’s the only way to describe it. “I don’t think I should,” I manage. “There’s a perfectly functional tub in my bathroom, anyway. So. I’ll just take a raincheck. On the hot tub.”

​“You don’t want to try it?” He lets go of my hand and touches my face. “Or is it that you’re afraid of me?” He trails his fingertips across my cheek. “Which is it? Door one or two? One of them leads to a fabulous destination vacation.” His voice drops to a lower register. A sexy one. “You should loosen up, party planner. It’s just hot water. And I promise you’ll still be your tough and capable self afterward.”

​My breath hitches in my throat. I’m almost ready to say something stupid, like ‘I don’t have a bathing suit’ or ‘which way to the pitch black snowy outdoors?’ when common sense crashes through the window to truss me up, sling me over its shoulder, and race away.

​“It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. I should get some sleep. Good night.” I break away from him as not-awkwardly as possible and head upstairs. I have to stop halfway up, though, and lean against the railing and close my eyes. My heart is still racing, and all the heat in my body has pooled, not so unwelcomely, between my legs.

​I told the truth—I do have to grab a shower and go to bed. But the thought of Ace out there in the hot tub, stripped down, his muscles relaxing under the beat of the jets… 

I’ll probably need to make it a cold shower.






Author Bio


Amazon bestselling author, queen of the short-reads, and expert at playdough, Lila Monroe loves to read and write tales of sexy Billionaires. Combining her love of writing, sex and well-fitted suits, Lila Monroe wrote her first serial, The Billionaire Bargain. Lila enjoys writing, as it gives her a flexible schedule to spend time with her kids and a wonderful excuse to avoid them. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, who strips out of his well-fitted suits nightly.


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RELEASE BLITZ – Undeniably Asher by K.L. Kreig


Title: Undeniably Asher

Series: The Colloway Brothers #2 

Author: K.L. Kreig

Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotica

 Release Date: December 2, 2015





When does our past stop picking at our scars and start letting them heal?


Can we see beyond our wounds to the possibilities the future holds?


How do we let ourselves become vulnerable enough to trust the love that’s right in front of us?

Fate. She’s a fickle, wily bitch that slaps us in the face every opportunity she gets. Sometimes it’s a taunt, but sometimes it’s a goddamn wake-up call to pay attention. Take what’s rightfully yours without shame or apology. So when destiny put me straight in Alyse Kingsley’s path once again, I knew this was one slap I wasn’t ignoring. I’d let her get away once. I wouldn’t again. She was mine and I was takin’ her, kicking and screaming if need be.

Alyse ~ Deceit and betrayal. Every single person who was supposed to love me committed one of these.

My mother.

My father.

My sister.

My lover.

Incapable of letting people see the real me, I hold them at arm’s length. But Asher Colloway is relentless and it doesn’t take long before I cave to his pursuits. The big question is: can I let him in where it counts most? Before ghosts from my past come back to haunt me in ways I can’t possibly fathom? Before it’s too late?

Asher ~ Trust. Forgiveness. Impossible concepts, having been fucked over by a woman I’d loved before. But those aren’t my only personality flaws.

I’m possessive.

I’m jealous.

I’m dominant.

I have a secret kink.

I want Alyse. All of her. She shows people the shiny, untainted surface. I want the murky, damaged depth. The shadows. I want in all the way. Just when I think I’ve made it, fate cruelly bitch-slaps me again. And this time I don’t see it coming. The question now is: what am I willing to do to keep the woman I love by my side? And can Alyse accept me the way I am, faults and all?




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Before his lips touch mine, I see my plea reflected. Asher has a past, maybe as painful as mine, maybe not, but a past nonetheless. We all do. We all walk with our own story, our own secrets, our own damage, our own scars. Internal and external. Some of us just carry them better than others.

It’s apparent someone hurt him, broke his trust. Broke his heart, even. And I want to know about her. I want to know who turned such a caring, romantic, handsome man who could have any woman he wants into someone who can’t commit.

But can he commit now?

Can I?

As Asher kisses me long and deep, the questions and doubt fade into nothingness, powerful lust and longing easily taking their place. Just like every other time he touches me. Nothing feels more right than when his lips are on mine.

He’s like gravity.

He keeps me grounded in the present and out of my own head, where my personal demons try to torment me.

Mouth never leaving mine, Asher pulls me across his lap and suddenly I wished I’d worn a skirt for easy access, because I desperately need his hands on me. Instead I have dark, tight jeans and a clingy, black long-sleeved blouse, which shows off the swell of my breasts, courtesy of the deep purple push-up bra I’m wearing.

“Alyse,” he mumbles against my goose-pebbled flesh. “Tell me what you like, what you want.” His hands tightly grip my waist, hot tongue traveling slowly down to the base of my throat. His rock-hard erection pulses beneath me, throbbing, keeping time with my own beats.

What do I want? So many things. So many dirty, wicked things. Things I’ve never wanted with anyone else. I know Asher can show me. I’ve been with several men, but I almost feel like a virgin with him. Not in the physical sense, but the emotional one. I believed him when he said he would own me. God help me, I want that. I’ve thought of nothing else than what it would be like to be completely and wholly his in every sense of the word.

I will the chains I’ve secured tightly around my heart to loosen. I imagine the lock clicking open and slack taking up the links I’d wound so tightly, so securely that no one could penetrate them. It’s terrifying. It feels foreign, naked, like taking off a piece of jewelry you’ve not removed for years, the imprint of the precious metal leaving a visible mark behind.

And then I do the one thing that feels right in this moment, but goes against all that I’ve tried to protect myself from over the last eight years.

I submit.

“I want you to own me,” I beseech. Beg. Implore.

All of me. Not just my body.

My voice echoes loudly in the darkened room, like I’ve yelled those six words at the top of my lungs for the whole world to hear and judge versus barely uttered so that they sound distant, even to my own ears. I’m not even sure Asher heard me.

But he did.

His lips still, his body tenses, and his grasp becomes almost painfully tight. When he pulls back, the insatiable lust swirling in the depths of his striking blues causes my stomach to drop like I’ve just been tossed off a five-story building.

Burning eyes never leaving mine, one hand pushes underneath my blouse, traveling up to palm my breast. He pulls down the cup, his nimble fingers tweaking my hardened nipple. Pleasure ricochets off every cell like a pinball machine, landing squarely between my pounding thighs. My eyes drift closed on a moan until I hear his dark command.

“Look at me, baby.” His fingers never stop pulling and pinching and twisting, each movement sending another sharp zing on a fast track south of the border.

I finally comply, but my blinks are long and heavy.

“Fuck, I want to corrupt you in the wickedest of ways and completely ruin you in the best possible ones.”

He’s asking for permission, even though I already gave it.

He’s asking for trust, when it’s already his.

He’s asking me to be sure.

I am.

Letting a small smile tug the corners of my lips, I reassure him.




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Author Bio



This is the hardest part…talking about myself.

I’m just a regular ol’ Midwest girl who likes Game of Thrones and is obsessed with Modern Family and The Goldbergs. I run, I eat, I run, I eat. It’s a vicious cycle. I love carbs, but there’s a love-hate relationship with my ass and thighs. Mostly hate. I like a good cocktail (oh hell…who am I kidding? I love any cocktail). I’m a huge creature of habit, but I’ll tell you I’m flexible. I read every single day and if I don’t get a chance…watch the hell out, I’m a raving bitch. My iPad and I: BFFs. I’m direct and I make no apologies for it. I swear too much. I love alternative music and in my next life I want to be a badass female rocker. I hate, hate, hate spiders, telemarketers, liver, acne, winter, and loose hairs that fall down my shirt (don’t ask, it’s a thing).

I have a great job (no…truly it is) outside of writing. My kids and my husband are my entire world and I’d never have made it this far without them. My soul mate husband of nearly twenty-eight years provides unwavering support and my two grown children know the types of books I write and they don’t judge their mom anyway (and my daughter is a beta reader even…yes, that can be awkward…very).

I’m sincerely humbled by each and every like on my Facebook page or sign-up for my newsletter or outreach from someone who has read and loved my books. I still can’t get over the great support. The romance book community is a wonderful and supportive one. I’ve made more friends in the last year than I’ve made in my life and I’m a pretty affable person. It’s surreal. I’m pretty sure it always will be.

In short, I am blessed…and I know it.

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Hook Me Up by Adele Downs

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AUTHOR – Adele Downs

GENRE – Contemporary Romance (Firefighter)
PUBLICATION DATE – December 1, 2015
PRICE– .99 for a Limited Time!
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 25,000
PUBLISHER – Bent Oak Press
COVER ARTIST – Crystal Posey


Hook Me Up - Cover

Firemen don’t free cats from trees anymore—until a pretty schoolteacher gets trapped on a limb with her kitten and the county’s hottest firefighter comes to their rescue.

(First published in the anthology INTO THE FLAMES. Box set available wherever e-books are sold.)


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Lexi’s voice had gone hoarse, but she tried again to call for help, emitting faint sounds from her dry throat. Ginger mewled.

To her amazement, a husky voice answered. “Try not to move. I’ll be right up.”

She followed the sound to the bottom of the tree and figured the blood rushing from her feet to her brain had turned her mind to oatmeal. She’d either grown delusional, or died from her injuries, because the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen had moved into her line of sight and stood at the base of her apple tree.

She squeezed her eyes closed, and then opened them again. The man was still there. He had corn-colored hair and looked up at her with the eyes of an angel. The soot on his cheeks and chin couldn’t camouflage the stunning face beneath.

A firefighter dressed in full regalia had come to her rescue.

She watched, filled with relief and hope, as he hoisted a circle of rope over his shoulder and gripped a long-handled hook with an axe on the opposite side. In one smooth motion, he began to climb. She’d never been so glad to see another human being.

That’s when Lexi remembered her naked breasts and the purple lace thong she barely wore.



AdeleDownsPublicityPhoto (2)
Adele Downs is the best-selling, award-winning author of more than 20 romance titles, including those written under another pen name, and a former journalist with hundreds of articles to her credit. When not writing in her home office in rural Pennsylvania, she can be found reading a book on the nearest beach, taking photographs, or riding in her convertible. Visit Adele Downs at www.adeledowns.com

Want more firefighters? Check out SANTA TO THE RESCUE and NATURALLY YOURS by Adele Downs. Available wherever ebooks are sold.




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RELEASE BLITZ – Blue Hearts by Sydney Jamesson



Title: Blue Hearts

Series: The Story of Us #2

Author: Sydney Jamesson


Genre: Contemporary Romance 

 Release Date: December 2, 2015




Beth Parker Stone knows what it feels like to be alone. She just didn’t expected to feel that way only three months into her perfect marriage.


Ayden Stone is a man who has everything, except the one thing he needs most: the only woman he has ever loved. Fearing for her life, he has to send her away; knowing he has the fight of his life on his hands to save himself and, more importantly, his family.


He must do things he knows will jeopardise his marriage and bring him close to breaking point, but with his back against the wall, he has no choice … he must do whatever it takes.


The French connection deepens, opening old wounds, creating emotional scars which Ayden must endure alone. New enemies from their past close in, threatening their relationship and their very existence.


With everything to fight for, they must make a stand to safeguard their lives and their love … or risk losing it all.






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Awoken from a restless sleep, I find myself entangled in a fantasy of my own making, lured into a sensual scenario by the seductive chords of West Coast by Lana del Ray. I’m screwing my eyes tight, holding the vision in my mind’s eyes, keeping it alive. I see a face, not imaginary but familiar, so real it makes me gasp.


The rasp of warm breath in my ear stimulates my body into spontaneous arousal. I allow his heat to envelop me, to wrap itself around me like wings, taking me far away from here, taking me home.

A whimper leaves my lips, and I call out into the darkness, “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m here. Hush, now,” he whispers, softly.

He soothes my fear with words of comfort. The sounds of my distress disperse until all I hear is the hoarseness of my breathing and the ebb and flow of a serene sea.

“That’s it. Good, girl.”

Stirred by his words, I fall back onto the sheets restless and in need of his attention. He explores my body with unhurried movements, hands and lips and tongue becoming a charismatic cocktail to stimulate and seduce. With masculine hands he kneads my breasts, rolling my nipples between forefinger and thumb until they are hard pebbles. With an outstretched palm he circles my stomach; fingertips skimming my pubic bone, teasing, tantalizing with the promise of immeasurable pleasure.

He roams my body with covetous eyes that speak of possession. I’m his—my body, my heart and my soul belongs to him. He knows what I need.

I need him to make me forget, to make me believe he is mine, and mine alone.

With the lightest of touches, he traces the line of my thigh, making his way to his desired destination, inching my legs apart, leaving me vulnerable and at his mercy. Imagining his warm fingers stroking and circling my swollen clitoris causes my breath to quicken. As my body temperature rises, so the heat building in my groin becomes a throbbing pulse only he can ease and bring to an orgasmic heaven.

My body is alive.

I hear his voice, husky, pleading, “Come back to me, baby.”

I want to, I have to. My breathing turns to moans as his movements quicken. I pull at my hair with my free hand, picturing a mass of dark curls positioned between my legs, bobbing to the beat of a rhythmic chorus. My orgasm builds until it’s a rippling tide rolling me over and over, scattering my thoughts. Like an unstoppable wave, it seeks out the darkest corners of my soul where fear lives, engulfing my loneliness.

A searing glow radiates through my body, until I am scorched by it, unable to speak or move. So profound is the intensity of my husband’s gifted lovemaking.

When I open my eyes, my fantasy disappears likes morning mist, leaving only shadows and memories that seem to have gathered around me like unexpected bedfellows. Turning onto my side, I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the warmth fade.

The darkness returns.

I’m sated.

But alone.




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Touchstone for play –


Touchstone for giving –


Touchstone for ever –




Author Bio


 Sydney Jamesson is an English teacher by day and bestselling author of romance by night. She is nocturnal by nature and loves nothing more than staying up late, listening to music and being inspired to write. She has always scribbled things down; in her home is one enormous waste paper basket full of discarded phrases, opening lines and pieces of dialogue that have hit her like lightning in the middle of the night or whilst parked up at a set of traffic lights. Her bestselling trilogy, The Story of Us is available worldwide, and she’s thrilled to continue Ayden Stone and Beth Parker’s epic love story in her upcoming The Story of Us Series: Into the Blue.


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RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ Dirty Ink by K. Renee

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Dirty Ink

Book One in the Dirty Love Series

K Renee

Release Date: December 2, 2015

Cover Photo by Darren Birks

Front Cover Model: Khandace Charest

Cover Design: KLa Boutique

Dirty Ink



**Warning** Suggested for 18 and over. Contains BDSM and explicit sex scenes. May also contain triggers.


Brielle Tyler is a twenty-five year old college student, trying to find her place in the world.

Hudson Knox is a thirty year old tattoo artist who has been building up his tattoo shop, Dirty Ink.

Brielle’s long term boyfriend breaks up with her and she finds herself going to a tattoo shop to break free of her good girl shell.

Once Hudson inks Brielle’s skin in his shop, he can’t stop thinking about the fiery raven haired beauty.

A chance encounter a week later, throws Hudson and Brielle together for the ride of their lives.


Add it to your TBR on GoodReads

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Dirty Ink Teaser 1








About the Author

K. Renee is from sunny, California. Creative by nature, she decided to put her imagination to paper. K. Renee is an avid reader. During the day she works in an office and at night she writes. These stories have been in her head for years and are finally coming out on paper.


RELEASE BLITZ – Seal’d Perfection, Book 3 by K.B. Winters

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Sealed Perfection Book 3


Two years after a brutal divorce, Kat Ryan is making the best of her new life and focusing on being the best mom to her three year old son, Jax. She has her life on track, and even though she struggles to make ends meet, she is determined to build a brighter future for herself and her baby boy.

However, when bad boy, tattoo artist Jace Winslow takes up residence across the street from the diner where she works, her concentration flies right out the window, and makes her question everything she thought she wanted.

Jace Winslow is a decorated Navy SEAL with a bad boy edge that sent him into super stardom thanks to a syndicated reality show, Inked by Jace. With the lights of Hollywood come parties, drugs, and more women than Jace knew what to do with, but he’s ready to leave all that behind and settle down in a quiet town. At least, he thinks so.

Is there room in Kat’s broken heart to let in a new love?



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Sealed Perfection Book 2

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Seal'd Perfection Book 1

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KB Winters is the author of the brand new Billionaire Romance Series, Plush. She has an addiction to caffeine and hard-bodied alpha males. The men in her books are very sexy, protective and sometimes bossy, her ladies are…well…bossier!

Living in sunny Southern California, this hopeless romantic writes every chance she gets!




BLOG BLITZ ~ Christmas Confusion (Bailey’s Chaotic Life series) by Monica Garry-Allen

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Title – Christmas Confusion
Series – Bailey’s chaotic life
Author – Monica Garry-Allen

Genre – New Adult/Romantic Comedy
Publication Date – 11/03/14
Length (Pages/# Words) – 46,000
Publisher – Driven Independent Media
Cover Artist – Driven Independent Media


~Bailey Cooper has fallen in love – sadly the man she’s in love with already has a man. Sounds complicated doesn’t it? ~

Christmas Confusion - CoverBailey Cooper is very much attracted to her neighbor, Max Davis. Unfortunately for her, Greg – Max’s lover, is slowly becoming one of Bailey’s best friends. Bailey’s emotions are torn. She adores Greg’s friendship while at the same time she craves Max’s touch.

What’s a girl to do when she ‘thinks’ the man she’s in love with is in love with someone else?

Max Davis and his baby brother Greg Davis are co-owners of the apartment building they live in. Max has fallen for his tenant, Bailey, but she avoids and ignores all of his advances. It doesn’t take long for him to become suspicious of the friendship blooming between Greg and Bailey. He believes Bailey has a crush on his brother, but Max wants his shy little neighbor all to himself. Now he has to think of ways to keep Bailey and Greg apart, which is ridiculous since Greg isn’t even in to women. Time to break that news to his neighbor and hope it causes her attention to swing his way.

Will a holiday weekend full of chaos, confusion and a little bit of charm finally get Bailey and Max on the right track? Or will a few innocent caresses lead to more Christmas confusion?






Max scooted back on the couch, he reached toward Bailey, eyes straying to her legs. Even though she wore jeans, he still pictured her legs bare, like they were when she jumped on his counter. Her eyes widened as his hand came closer and closer. Max leaned forward, stretching his arm even closer to her body, he ached to touch her. His fingertips itched for a chance to slide down her body. As he moved closer, he heard her inhale deeply and he couldn’t escape the erotic images that flowed through his mind. Oh, the sounds I could cause her to make, if she would give me the chance.

Max continued edging forward, until his fingers wrapped around what he was reaching for. He picked the remote control up and moved back to his side of the couch. His hand shook slightly. Bailey exhaled. The sound sent chills over his body. Max pointed the remote at the television and pressed play.

He cleared his throat. “Do you want to start from the beginning or do you want me to find the last scene you watched?”

Max waited on her to answer but all he heard was the sound of her breathing. He kept his eyes straight forward, fearing the sight of her chest rising and falling would be his downfall. She took so long to answer that he forgot what his question was.
“Whatever you want,” she whispered, and his gut clenched. Max pressed pause.

What was his question? For the life of him, he couldn’t remember what he’d asked her. But her answer ‘whatever you want’ was the answer he craved. A thousand questions raced through his head, ‘Bailey, what do you want me to do to you with my tongue?’ Her answer of ‘whatever you want’ would be perfect for that question. ‘Bailey, what do you want me to do to you with my hands?’ Whatever you want would be the perfect answer to that question. But none of those were the question she was answering. What had he asked her?

“Or we could just watch television,” she said. “We don’t have to watch the movie, I know it’s a chick flick and you may not like it.”

Oh yeah, the movie. “No, no, we can watch the movie.” Get it together, Max.



Monica Garry-Allen has loved reading for as long as she can remember. As a child her mother always purchased books for her at her school’s book fair. Back then her favorite book was The Little Mermaid. Now days she reads and tells stories to her nieces and nephews during her weekend sleepovers.

Monica is a full time Travel Clinical Laboratory Technician. When she is not working in the lab she’s writing humorous love stories and steamy romances. She recently married the man of her dreams, Dempsey Allen, who motivates her to be the best writer she can be. She has a loving family who supports her one hundred percent and friends who can’t wait to read her next story. She resides in the southern part of Mississippi where she enjoys shopping, reading, writing and spending time with her family.



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Off Limits:
A Stepbrother MMA Romance

by Callie Harper


I like to fight and I like to fuck.
Now’s my shot to fight for real, step out from my billionaire father’s shadow and be my own man. This summer’s all about going after my goal of becoming a pro MMA fighter.
The problem is the girl I want to fuck. She’s driving me crazy with her little yoga outfits, her creamy skin, luscious curves and wide-eyed innocence. Normally, I’d hit it and quit it, get her out of my system and focus.
But she’s my fucking stepsister. And she hates me. This summer we’re supposed to spend eight weeks together living under the same roof.
I need to taste her. I won’t rest until she’s writhing beneath me, begging me to let her come. I’m a man who gets what he wants, and what I want now is Jewel.


I want him so bad it hurts. I’ve never felt this way before.
I’ve never had a problem keeping my distance from bad boys. The more muscles, tats and testosterone, the more I ran the other way. I learned my lesson, growing up with a trainwreck of a mother.
Until now.
Tuck makes my panties melt. He keeps me up at night, twisting in the sheets, obsessed with fantasies while I touch myself.
But he’s my stepbrother. And he’s an alpha, dominant asshole.
We’re sharing a house and he’s walking around shirtless, every inch of him ripped with hard muscle, sweaty after his brutal workouts. I don’t think I can hold out much longer. I’ve always been the good girl, but he makes me want to be bad.

***Off Limits is a standalone stepbrother romance novel with a HEA (85,000 words).

Releasing December 14th

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All Right owned by Callie Harper


He looked like the kind of man you wanted to rip your clothes right off of you. Like a huge, sexy, rugged pirate, stepped right out of the historical romances I loved. But also kind of like a Sean Connery 60s-era James Bond, suave and tall in a classic tux perfectly tailored to fit his large frame. The party was just getting started, but he already had the late-night look with his bow tie hanging loose, his white shirt slightly unbuttoned. My panties got wet just looking at him.

I blushed at my own thoughts. They weren’t the kind I normally had. Calculations for science labs, worrying if I’d be late for an obligation, that was what usually filled my head as a sophomore at a preppy all-girls college in Massachusetts. But standing there at that party my mother had dragged me to, I forgot all of that.

I hadn’t wanted to go to the black tie charity affair that night, but my mom had insisted. She craved the spotlight. I shrank from it. But she said that there was someone special she wanted me to meet, the guy she’d been seeing for the last couple of months. I’d been hearing a lot about him. He was so rich! Had she mentioned how rich he was? Cross your fingers, this could be the one! But I’d heard that plenty of times before. It got so you tuned it right out.

She’d been pretending to be interested in polo lately, the game with the horses and mallets. You know what she liked most about polo? The rich men who attended polo matches. The charity event that night had something to do with raising money for equestrian land conservation. What was that exactly? She pretended to be passionate about the cause, told me the equestrian industry needed our support. I tried not to roll my eyes.

I’d had some fun getting ready for the party. Mom talked me into wearing green that night. I usually tried not to call attention to my red hair. It drew enough attention to itself as it was. Thank God it had toned down a bit from the orange of my youth. I liked to pretend it looked auburn, though in full sunlight I swear it was fire-engine red. Basically, my hair belted out a solo of color when all I wanted to do was blend in with the chorus.

But my mom certainly knew how to take advantage of assets, and she chose a flattering dress for me. She knew a lot about lingerie and supporting structures and by the time she’d rigged me out I looked like the perfect hourglass. I was still getting used to my curves. I was what you called a classic late-bloomer. I’d had a long, awkward stretch, made all the more awkward because my mother happened to be a movie star.

Or had been. She was now decidedly on the B list, but you’ve still probably heard of her. Candice Kidd. At 14 she’d been discovered in a shopping mall in Illinois. She still loved talking about it. She started modeling, living unsupervised and mainlining coke like the rest of the malnourished, overpaid minors with whom she shared an apartment in New York. At 18, she made her big crossover, heading out to L.A. to launch her acting career.

At 18 she’d also had me, a minor footnote on her Wikipedia page. My dad was some agent she’d partied with one night, but he’d never been involved. While I’d been shunted off on whatever neighbor she could impose on or babysitter she could afford for a little while, she started snapping up any acting part she could, working her way into America’s hearts or at least the pants of American males. She had a couple of bit parts in teen romps, the kind set in summer camps where bikini tops came off during mud fights. Where at 14 she’d been 5’10” and all skin and bones, by 18 she’d filled out big time. That’s when Hollywood took over.

Her big moment, the apex of her career, came with a moderately successful romantic comedy: Springtime in Paris. You’ve probably seen it late at night on TV. There was the cute meet, the typical hijinks and mix-ups, then all was lost until—surprise! Everything worked out in the end.

Fast forward 15 years and Candice Kidd was your basic has-been starlet, a few stints in rehab, a few years making headlines as the girlfriend of Zane Black. Nothing like a heroin-addicted lead singer in a band to bring stability to a happy home. She hadn’t been in the headlines for a couple of years, thankfully, but for most of the past decade she’d been good for a juicy gossip story.

What had I been doing through it all? The exact fucking opposite. Some of my first memories were of my mom vomiting from too much booze or sleeping off a hangover. I watched her cry into her rum and coke after she got dumped, then a few weeks later clean up all bright, shining and hopeful over some new guy. Repeat cycle.

I vowed I’d never be like her, and so far so good. I kept my head down in high school, as much as possible that was. It was hard to be stick-skinny with flaming orange hair and freckles in a Southern California high school where the rest of the student body was either cool and Mexican (think Latin hip-hop video) or surfer dudes (teen beach movie). I fit right in. Not.

But I used that to my advantage. I had a lot of time on my hands. I studied and then studied some more and what do you know I’d won myself a college scholarship.

I loved it at my safe, small, all-women’s, ivy-covered New England campus. That was my comfort zone. Not black tie galas.

When we got to the party, my mom said, “I want to introduce you to someone. Try not to spill anything on your dress. And don’t disappear on me.” Then she promptly disappeared into the crowd. I watched her and sighed. I was used to it.

I made my way over to a dimly-lit corner and found an inconspicuous spot behind a pillar. I had a glass of champagne to sip, and I settled in to people-watch, one of my favorite pastimes.

That’s when I saw him. The most outrageously handsome, dark and brooding man I’d ever seen in my life. Up until that moment, I’d never really understood what all the fuss over guys was about. While all the teenage girls around me in school had twittered and preened, I’d rolled my eyes.

Now, I felt like I’d been hit by a Mack truck. My knees weak, my pulse instantly racing, it wasn’t just the champagne that made me feel tipsy. I was grateful I was standing in a corner where I could lean against some structural support. From my dark, private spot I took him in, all of him. Standing well over six feet tall, he looked so big, so powerful in his stance with his feet splayed apart, hand in one pocket. Dark hair, dark eyes, massive shoulders tapering down into a slim waist. He stood next to the bar, surveying the scene like he owned the place. He didn’t look too much older than me, but he looked so much more experienced. A bit of stubble played along his strong jaw as if he hadn’t shaved for the party, too cool for that. He looked both perfectly at home in the midst of a wealthy gala and also above it all, glowering and rough.

A shiver traveled down my spine. His hair had that careless look, tousled just enough as if some woman hadn’t been able to keep her hands off of him. I knew how she felt. I was so attracted to him it hurt.

It wasn’t just me, either. I’d heard the phrase before: chick magnet. All he did was stand there looking impossibly gorgeous and strapping and women flocked over to the bar to make eye contact, fluff their hair, and offer a word or two of flirtatious small talk. I took it all in from behind my pillar, spying on him. I gave meaning to my own phrase: wall flower.

I took pleasure in the fact that he didn’t seem interested in any of the women who threw themselves at him. He’d acknowledge them, offer a comment or two in return which would make them laugh and ruffle up their feathers. But then his dark gaze would return to the crowd. He’d sip his drink and, without a word, dismiss them.

He was bored, I realized. Maybe he didn’t want to be there. Like me.

I couldn’t help myself. I made my way over to the bar, too. He had a hypnotic pull I was helpless to resist. I had to draw closer.

It wasn’t as if I thought he would be interested. I’d seen him dismiss women far hotter than me. This was L.A., after all, where young, gorgeous women grew thick on the vines. After the party got going there was bound to be some starlet or teen popstar who’d show up with her entourage, the “it” girl of the moment. Surrounded by buzz, that’s the type who had a shot at capturing his attention.

Ordering another glass of champagne from the bartender, I felt acutely aware of his nearness. He stood so close now I could almost feel his presence, but I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact.

So I was shocked to hear his voice, deep and sexy like I knew it would be. “Hey, Red.”

I blushed furiously. I’d heard that nickname enough times to know for sure he was talking to me. But the way he said it didn’t make me feel awkward or funny-looking. The way he said it made me feel hot.

I looked up at him, shy, a nervous, electric tremble running through my body.

“Are you having fun lurking around?” he asked.

“What?” Shocked, my eyes widened. Had he seen me?

“I saw you over there, hiding behind that pillar.” He pointed over to my former hiding spot. I bit my lip and winced slightly in embarrassment. “What are you up to?” he continued, teasing. “Are you trying to make sure you don’t make all the other women here jealous?”

“What?” Apparently being next to him reduced me to one word and one word only. I definitely wouldn’t snare him with my witty repartee. But I couldn’t understand, was he giving me a compliment?

He leaned down to me and I thrilled at it, he was so tall. At 5’8” I wasn’t exactly a giantess, but he made me feel so willowy and slender, delicate next to his massive frame.

“They all wish they looked like you,” he whispered, conspiratorial. “You look fresh and young.” He swept one of my errant locks of hair behind my shoulder, baring my pale skin. “Innocent,” he continued, his voice low and seductive.

I looked up at him through my lashes. He had a decidedly more predatory gleam in his eyes now. Much less bored than before.

“It’s a currency here in L.A.,” he continued. Gesturing out to the crowd with his drink, he added, “If they could figure out a way to bottle what you have they’d do it in a heartbeat. Even if they had to kill you to make it happen.”

For some reason, what he said made me laugh. I burst out with it, not at all delicate and ladylike, more like a peal of laughter ringing out.

“You think I’m joking?” He looked at me with the hint of a smile. I hadn’t thought he could look any more handsome, but the sight of him amused almost took away my powers of speech.

“No.” I composed myself, a hand to my chest, proud I’d managed to say more than ‘what.’ “I’m laughing because it’s so true.”

“They’re vampires,” he observed, looking out at the crowd.

“And they would drink my blood,” I agreed, standing by his side.

Just like that, I went from outsider to insider. He made me feel special, like I belonged and I’d just about never felt like that before. We stood together, surveying the room from our own private world.

He brought a hand to the small of my back and my whole body responded, a surge tingling through me. My stomach did a low, slow flip. If he could do that to me with just one hand, I was in trouble. Gently, he started leading me back over to the dark corner where I’d been standing. How much more I’d enjoy the quiet, private spot sharing it with him.

“So, are you here tonight because of your deep concern for equestrian land conservation?”

Sarcasm, I liked it. My native language. “I’m very passionate about equestrian land conservation,” I agreed in mock seriousness. “As soon as I figure out what it is, I’m going to become the president of this group.”

“Yes.” He nodded as if I’d just said something very wise. “So true. The equestrian industry really needs our support.”

“Is that what we’re raising money for?” I had to ask.

“I think so.” His full mouth crooked up at the corner in wry humor.

“Good.” I nodded back. “The industry matters a lot more than the horses.”

“Who cares about the horses?” he agreed.

“Horses-schmorses, I always say.” Instantly, I flushed with embarrassment. Why did I have to go and say something so dorky when we’d had a nice banter going, back and forth, making fun of it all together?

But he laughed. “Yeah, I’m so glad we’re not at a benefit for animals.”

“Please,” I agreed, as if totally annoyed at the thought.

“And don’t even get me started about charities that help people.”

“Like refugee children,” I added, as if the concept were preposterous.


We were both laughing now. When I’d first seen him, scowling and dark, I couldn’t have imagined him doing it, but he now gave me a full smile and I felt dazzled by it, unsteady on my feet. He brushed another strand of hair that had escaped my up-do and tucked it behind my ear. I shivered at his touch.

“Why are you here tonight?” he asked me, almost sounding astonished at my presence. In a good way.

“I got dragged here by my mom,” I admitted. “How about you?”

He shrugged. He gave new meaning to the word “nonchalant”. I thrilled to his every move. “I’m spending Christmas break out here in L.A. with my dad.”

“He lives out here?”

“He splits his time between New York and L.A. His investments are all over the map.” How very jet-setting. But I could tell from everything about him, the tension in his body, the set of his jaw, the tightness in his voice, he didn’t want to talk about it. I understood that feeling, not wanting to talk about your parent.

He looked down at me again in a way that made me feel like it was just the two of us in the room. Like he’d been waiting all night to meet me. “We should get together this week.” He swept his finger along my shoulder and I swore I’d never felt anything so good. I could feel where he’d left a trail, tingling and hot. In that deep, husky voice he added, “I bet we could have some fun.”

Me—conservative, inexperienced, some might even say uptight—me, I had to fight the urge to bury my fingers in his hair and lick his neck. Standing that close, apart from everyone else, I could smell his musky, masculine scent and it made me dizzy. My lips parted. His did as well.

He reached out again to my hair as if he couldn’t keep his hands off it, taking a strand between his large fingers, touching it as if it were expensive silk. “Like fire,” he murmured. I’d always felt embarrassed by my hair, but he made me feel like a rare, exquisite beauty.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Jewel,” I managed. My heart raced and I could feel myself start shaking slightly, so sensitive to his touch. He looked down at me like he wanted to devour me whole. With a flicker of nervousness, my eyes darted to the side, as if checking for an escape route. I felt so vulnerable, trembling next to his massive frame. We were so tucked away, no one could even see us where we stood. Anything could happen.

“Jewel.” He repeated my name and made a low, appreciative noise in his throat. His thumb teased my lower lip. “I want to taste you, Jewel.”

Right there at the party, behind a pillar in the dimly lit corner of our private world, he dipped his head down and kissed me. He started warm, gentle and sure, but then he pulled me closer, deepening our kiss, his mouth claiming mine. I felt a rumble in his chest as his tongue teased me, licking, dipping, hot and wicked. I heard a low moan and realized vaguely that it came from my throat. Pressed against him, my soft curves were a perfect fit against his rock hard, solid muscle.

Heat grew in my core as he pushed me back against the wall. My hands snaked up into his hair, soft and sleek, his hand circling my throat as I tilted back to take in more of him, his tongue plundering my mouth. My breathing ragged, I clutched his massive shoulder. An animal lurked beneath that tux. His mouth searched me, urgent, down at my throat, licking and sucking my sensitive skin. He cupped the swell of my ass in his large, powerful hand and forced me against his body. I could feel his long, steel length hard for me.

“You’re making me crazy,” he whispered into my ear.

I’d never felt so wild, so reckless and crazed with lust. Maybe I’d had too much champagne? But I hadn’t felt drunk until he kissed me.

Panting, I murmured, “I don’t even know your name.” My hands, feverish, marveled at the width of his shoulders, worshipped the wall of muscle through his shirt.

“Tuck.” Rhymes with… His hands, hot, roamed me as if he couldn’t get enough, circling my waist, skimming my back as he panted into my neck. My blood simmered as his hands traveled slowly up my dress, so slowly up to the curve of my breast. I sucked in my breath, my eyes closing as he brought his thumb up to lightly tease my heaving mounds. Instantly, my nipples hardened, two points pushing against the fabric. His molten eyes drank me in.

“You like that, Jewel?” His deep and wicked voice, so secret and dirty, he made me so wet just from the sound of it. The way he looked at me, licked his lips as he feasted on the sight of my arousal. What would it feel like to have those full, hot lips on my breasts, to feel his tongue on my skin, sucking my aching nipples?

In a remote region of my mind I tried to remind myself that I was still in public, at a party, and I didn’t do this kind of thing. I was cautious, reserved. I left parties early, didn’t give out my phone number. But then he kissed me again and my entire brain lost its reception in white-hot static.

Owning me, his hands cupping my breasts, his breath ragged and hot against my throat, he continued his light, teasing strokes. Heart fluttering, pulse pounding, I sucked in my breath and bit my lower lip, my eyelids half-closing as I needed more, more contact, more of his hands, his heat, his skin on my skin. His gaze stayed on me, mesmerized by my response to him.

In that sinfully sexy voice of his, he asked, low and husky in my ear, “Have you ever been bad, Jewel?”

Trembling against his hardness, I couldn’t think. My sex clenched tight at his words, slick heat building within me. I couldn’t process what was happening. “What do you mean?”

His voice stroked me, soft as silk, “I get the feeling you’ve always been a good girl.” His thumb and forefinger found my nipple, aroused, pressing against the fabric of my dress. I arched my back into his touch, still so light and teasing. Dark eyes intent on my face, drinking in my reaction, he pinched. My mouth parted in a gasp and I closed my eyes in the onslaught of sensations. How could it hurt and feel so good at the same time? It was as if my breast was wired directly down between my legs, making my sex throb and glisten with need.

“I think you should be bad with me, Jewel.” He dipped his mouth down to my sensitive throat, trailing hot kisses against my skin, “Delicious,” he murmured as he stopped to lick and suck, swirling his tongue. Pressed up against the wall, panting and unable to think straight, I felt like Little Red Riding Hood with the big bad wolf. If the wolf had been hypnotically sexy as sin.

He ground his hips against me and through our clothes I could feel his heavy, thick cock. He was huge. A moan escaped my lips, true, real lust clenching its fist around me for the first time in my life. I wanted this man. No, I needed this man. I needed him to do all the things I’d only read about, right there, right then, up against the wall.

A hot palm down at my hip, searing me through my dress, so close to where I throbbed but not close enough, he asked, “Are you getting wet for me, Jewel?” I panted and twisted under his grasp, wanting more of him, needing more heat, more pressure. “Right here at the party?” He tormented me, moving his hand ever so slightly down, then grasping the hem of my dress to inch it slowly up.

“Naughty girl,” his dark voice rasped at my ear, his tongue flicking along my lobe, biting then sucking the sensitive flesh.

Moaning, I arched my back, pressing my breast into his hand, impatient, needy, wanton. I’d never been so reckless. I’d never felt so good.



About the Author


Callie Harper 3


Callie Harper writes contemporary romances so hot they may melt your ebook. You’ve been warned.

She is powered by coffee, wickedly sexy bad boys, and all things funny, intentional or otherwise. She is the author of OFF LIMITS to be released 12/15 and the BEG FOR IT series which will start being released in January 2016.

She lives in the gorgeous Bay Area with her family.

Connect with Callie at:




RELEASE BLITZ: Men of Mayhem Anthology

Title: Men of Mayhem (A Mafia Anthology)

Authors: J.L. Beck, Lisa Cardiff, J.L. Drake, Douglas Esper,
E.J. Fechenda, Marita A. Hansen, Soraya Naomi, Ginger Ring,
Amy Rachiele, Elle Raven, Sara Schoen, and Ashlee Taylor

Genre: Mafia/Mob Romance
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Release Date: December 1, 2015
Sometimes the line between good and bad simply depends which side you’re on…

Good guys can have unsavory secrets, while so-called criminals can live by a code of ethics rivaling that of any law enforcement agency. Bending the law for money, power, or revenge is one thing, but what if you’re bending it for your family—for love? 

Who would choose to become involved with a man who walks on the dark side…

Some men will go to any lengths, legal or not, and make no apologies to protect their way of life and all they hold dear. But you don’t always choose who you love, and sometimes you just have to decide if you’re bold enough to risk it all and go along for the ride.

Thirteen masterful authors come together to present Men of Mayhem. 

Compelling stories of loyalty and passion, love and lust, in which the moral and ethical lines are blurred, and call into question the notions of right and wrong. 

What could be more exciting than taking a leap of faith…and landing in the arms of the last man you’d expect—but the only one who truly makes you feel alive?

What if your road to happiness leads to…

Men of Mayhem
​Enforcing Fate by Amy Rachiele
How We Came To Be by Ashlee Taylor
A Late Night Bang by Douglas Esper
Drago by EJ Fechenda
Madison’s Mobster by Ginger Ring
Code of Silence by JL Drake
Infringe by JL Beck
Calabrese by Elle Raven
Gian by Lisa Cardiff
Vincenzo by Marita Hansen
One Shot by Mia Hoddell
Fatal Attraction by Sara Schoen
For Cesare by Soraya Naomi



Amy Rachiele – “Enforcing Fate”


​Amy Rachiele is a widowed military spouse who spent many years volunteering and on staff for the Army National Guard and Department of Veteran Affairs with family support, family readiness, as well as, families of the Fallen. Amy devoted 10 years to teaching at-risk students in the Providence School System. She holds a Master’s degree from Rhode Island College in English and Secondary Education. Besides writing, she is a reader, tea-er, shifter-lovin’, Sci-fi junkie, who enjoys scrapbooking, sewing, and traveling. Amy lives in Massachusetts with her son.

Ashlee Taylor – “How We Came To Be”


​Ashlee Taylor has always loved to read. She was practically born with a book in hand. She even wrote short stories and vignettes for fun at age eleven.
As she grew up reading was put to the side but the book Fifty Shades of Grey brought back the love of the written word. Swallowing every book she could get her hands on while befriending authors. Eventually becoming a beta reader and helping authors work out critical scenes and plot progressions.
Through this process, Ashlee decided to write the stories in her head.


Douglas Esper – “A Late Night Bang”


​For a man as nonathletic as Douglas Esper is, he sure enjoys juggling. Well, juggling projects anyway. Writer, blogger, musician, producer, and scotch drinker, Douglas always has something to do. His recent publishing credits include a novel, A Life of Inches (Limitless Publishing), a short story, My Wife’s Favorite (Scout Media), an essay, It’s Just a Bag of Peanuts (AHTI publishing), and a collection of songs with the band Indoria titled, There’s a Gleam (ApproachingStorm records). Douglas is currently ghostwriting a book with rock vocalist Chuck Mosley and editing his second novel, a suspense thriller titled, In the Watershed.

EJ Fechenda – “Drago”


E.J. Fechenda has lived in Philadelphia, Phoenix and now calls Portland, Maine home where she is a wife, stepmom, and pet parent all while working full time. Crazy is how she likes it. She has a degree in Journalism from Temple University and her short stories have been published in Suspense Magazine, the 2010 and 2011 Aspiring Writers Anthologies, and in the Indies Unlimited 2012 Flash Fiction Anthology. In addition to writing The New Mafia Trilogy, she is working on The Ghosts Stories Trilogy. E.J. is a member of the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance and co-founder of the fiction reading series, “Lit: Readings & Libations” which is held semi-quarterly in Portland.

Ginger Ring – “Madison’s Mobster”


Ginger Ring is an eclectic, Midwestern girl with a weakness for cheese, dark chocolate, and the Green Bay Packers. She loves reading, traveling, watching great movies, and has a quirky sense of humor. Publishing a book has been a lifelong dream of hers and she is excited to share her romantic stories with you. Her heroines are classy, sassy and in search of love and adventure. When Ginger isn’t tracking down old gangster haunts or stopping at historical landmarks, you can find her on the backwaters of the Mississippi River fishing with her husband.

JL Drake – “Code of Silence”


J. L. Drake was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, later moving to Southern California where she lives with her husband and two children.
When she’s not writing she loves to spend time with her family, travelling or just enjoying a night at home. One thing you might notice in her books is her love for the four seasons. Growing up on the east coast of Canada the change in the seasons is in her blood and is often mentioned in her writing.

An avid reader of James Patterson, J.L. Drake has often found herself inspired by his many stories of mystery and intrigue.

She hopes you will enjoy her stories as much as she has enjoyed writing them.

JL Beck – “Infringe”


J.L. Beck is the best selling author of numerous books including Indebted, Inevitable, Invincible, and The Bittersweet Series. She’s best known for weaving a tale, that ends with your mouth hanging open, and your hands gripping the edge of your seat.

She’s a no holds bar author who enjoys spending time with her husband of seven years, three year old hellion, and Hatchi the fur baby. She calls Wisconsin home, but loves to travel. In her free time you can catch her watching bad reality tv, cooking, reading books, or spending time outdoors.


Elle Raven – “Calabrese”


Elle Raven is an Aussie author who lives in Adelaide, South Australia with her husband and three young children. Elle can usually be found with her iPad or laptop computer permanently glued to her. She began writing from a very young age. In fact Elle used to write plays and musicals when she was in high school. Having such a flamboyant personality she even performed in them herself Always an ‘actress’ and always the star.

Elle loves reading and writing about an alpha-male hero. If she can’t read about one that is alpha enough to suit her she will take it upon herself to write one.

Elle’s books will feature an alpha-male hero who will come tumbling to his knees in lust and love when he finally meets the heroine of his dreams. Rest assured that in an Elle Raven book, the hero will never cheat.

Elle would love to hear from you. Please email her or visit her Facebook page. She loves connecting with people and having a chat with the readers about her books or any other books you may have in common.

Lisa Cardiff – “Gian”


After spending years practicing law and a million other things, Lisa decided to pursue her dream of becoming a writer and she must confess that inventing characters is so much more fun than writing contracts and legal briefs. A native of Colorado, she lives with her husband and three children in Denver. When she isn’t managing the chaos of raising three children and owning her own business, she can be found reading or writing a book.

Marita Hansen – “Vincenzo”


NATIONALITY AND CULTURAL CONNECTIONS: I’m a true blue Aucklander, born and bred in New Zealand. I tend to write about cultures I have connections to, such as Croatian and Maori. I would love to visit Croatia again as I have family there. At the moment I’m living in Singapore, but will be back in New Zealand next year, possibly earlier.
SPORTS: As a teen my favourite sports were karate, badmington, and running. I also did unarmed combat and played in a touch rugby team (my gym teacher made me do the last one!) Now I stick to running and have completed a marathon.
CAREER PATH: I started off as a Graphic Designer, then went to Auckland University, where I got a BA degree in Art History and Italian Studies and a post-graduate Honours degree in Art History. I worked in the Art History field, then became a full-time artist, doing commissions. I eventually lost all of my senses and gave it up to be a poor, starving writer, smh.
FAVOURITE FOODS: I’m vegetarian. I love pasta based foods, tofu, chocolate mousse and golden queen peaches.
BAD HABITS: I’m a major procrastinator that can’t seem to earn money to save myself!
STATUS: Married to my high school sweetheart (which he hates me calling him). We have two kids.

Mia Hoddell – “One Shot”


#1 Amazon bestselling author, Mia Hoddell, lives in the UK with her family and two cats. She spends most of her time writing or reading, loves anything romantic, and has an overactive imagination that keeps her up until the early hours of the morning.

Mia has written over ten titles including her Seasons of Change series, the Chequered Flag series, the Elemental Killers series, and her standalone novels False Finder and Not Enough.

Her favourite genres are contemporary romance or romantic suspense, and with an ever growing list of ideas she is trying to keep up with the speed at which her imagination generates them. She also designs book covers on her website M Designs.


Sara Schoen – “Fatal Attraction”


Sara Schoen is 20 years old college student studying biology and environmental science. She started writing in middle school, but didn’t dedicate to it until high school. She published her wattpad book, Amber Alert, at 19 in November of 2014. She’s spent years prior writing a spy series which released the first book in July, and many stand alone books, but for now school is a main priority. You can still find her on wattpad account under xxnightstripexx communicating with fans and other young authors on the site. She hopes to inspire others that dreams can come true at any age, you just have to chase after what you want.


Soraya Naomi – “For Cesare”


I was born in South America in 1984 and raised in Europe where I presently reside with my fiancé.
I read many genres but favor intense, dark, seductive, and provocative novels where the male character loves fiercely, without remorse or boundaries. I also adore forbidden love tales and have an odd fascination with kidnapping romances. No, I don’t secretly want to be kidnapped, though!
I have a passionate obsession with the written word and indulge in chocolate pastries much too often.
My debut novel For Fallon (Chicago Syndicate, #1) was released on July 26, 2014. I’m honored that For Fallon won “Best Breakout Novel 2014” in the Novel Grounds Semi Annual Literary Awards.


RELEASE BLITZ – Misconduct by Penelope Douglas

RBE Banner - Misconduct

Title: Misconduct
Author: Penelope Douglas

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 1, 2015
Organized by: As the Pages Turn






Former tennis player Easton Bradbury is trying to be the best teacher she can be, trying to reach her bored students and trying to forget her past. What brought her to this stage in her life isn’t important. She can’t let it be. But now one parent-teacher meeting may be her undoing… Meeting Tyler Marek for the first time makes it easy for Easton to see why his son is having trouble in school. The man knows how to manage businesses and wealth, not a teenage boy. Or a young teacher, for that matter, though he tries to. And yet…there is something about him that draws Easton in—a hint of vulnerability, a flash of attraction, a spark that might burn. Wanting him is taboo. Needing him is undeniable. And his long-awaited touch will weaken Easton’s resolve—and reveal what should stay hidden…


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His three-piece black pin-striped suit looked crisp and dark against his fair skin, and his white shirt and slate-gray tie shimmered in the glow of the light overhead. I took a few steps forward. “What are you doing here?” I asked. His eyes shot down to my feet, and I followed his gaze, remembering that I’d forgotten to put my heels back on. “Always losing your shoes,” he commented, a smile curling his mouth. I pursed my lips and turned around, snatching my heels off the seat and slipping them back onto my feet. Grabbing the back of the chair, I pulled it behind me and entered my classroom, knowing he’d follow. “You came to my workplace unannounced,” he stated behind me. “I thought I would return the favor.” I replaced my chair behind my desk and looked up, seeing that he had closed the door behind him. “And?” I prompted. “And I came to apologize,” he admitted, stopping a few feet in front of my desk. “I’ve been unfair, and I’m sorry. Christian has his phone back, so we’ll see how this goes.” I stilled, my heart galloping in my chest, and I almost smiled. Really? I opened my mouth but had to swallow the lump before I could speak. “Well, that’s great,” I said, surprised. “Thank you.” I guess I got through to him at his office. He slid one of his hands into a pocket and narrowed his eyes on me, looking a little surprised. “You seem very knowledgeable and determined.” His voice sounded genuine. “You’re an impressive woman, Ms. Bradbury, and I should’ve taken the time to understand your methods.” I kept my shoulders squared, but my eyes dropped, embarrassment warming my cheeks. “Thank you,” I mumbled, turning around to grab a dry-erase marker to start writing the schedule on the board for when then kids came back on Thursday. “Christian talks about your class,” he said behind me. “I can tell your teaching interests him, even if he would never admit it.” I uncapped the marker and rested my hand on the board but didn’t write anything. “He really can’t stand me, can he?” I dropped my hand to my side and spun around slowly, surprised by his question. And feeling terrible all over again. I should never have said that. No matter how much I thought I knew about him, they were nothing more than assumptions. Who was I to insinuate his son didn’t care for him or vice versa? And what gave me the right to say anything at all in the first place? He breathed deeply, and for the first time since I’d met him, he looked unsure of himself. “I was twenty when he was born,” he told me. “That’s no excuse, but it’s the only one I have.” Twenty. I was twenty-three, and I couldn’t imagine having a child right now. I watched him and waited, not wanting to say anything or interrupt because I found I kind of liked it when he talked. “I know what you think of me.” He looked me dead in the eye and then dropped his gaze, speaking in a voice close to a whisper. “And what he thinks of me.” And then he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I even care what you think. You don’t give a shit about me, but I guess that’s what’s so intriguing.” He moved forward, his soft eyes turning to steel. “You’re so cold and distant,” he charged. “I guess I wouldn’t think anything of it if I hadn’t seen you so different at one time.” I inhaled a shaky breath, looking down at his right hand. The same one that had held my waist while we danced. I licked my lips, barely noticing him advance. “You were flirty and fun.” His voice turned husky, and I looked up, seeing him round my desk slowly. “And you keep pissing me off, but it feels good,” he whispered, playing with me, drawing me in. I knew that look in his eyes. I may not know much about him, but I knew that look. And we were in my classroom. His son’s classroom. I may have had little shame, but he had none. “Mr.—” He cut me off. “Why won’t you ever say my name?” I shook my head, confused. “Why do you care what I think?” “I don’t,” he maintained. “I care that you don’t think of me at all.” I narrowed my eyes on him, clenching my teeth. “That’s not . . .” I trailed off, plastering my back against the whiteboard as he hovered over me. “That’s not what?” he pressed, his voice sounding strained. He stood so close that I had only to lift a hand and I could touch him. “That’s not true,” I finished. He leaned in. “You look at me like I don’t matter.” His eyes searched mine. “And I don’t like it.”

Misconduct Teaser


About Penelope Douglas


Penelope D

Penelope Douglas is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of the Fall Away series. She dresses for autumn year round, loves anything lemon flavored, and believes there is too much blood in her Coca Cola stream. Or too much Coca Cola in her blood stream. Or… You know what? It doesn’t matter. She loves Coke. Now you know. She lives in Las Vegas with her husband and daughter.

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