Daily Archives: 03/05/2016

FREE BOOK (Limited Time Only) ~ Mechanic by Alexa Riley

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Synopsis

 

 

Everything was fine until that innocent little rich girl walked into my garage. Since the second I laid my eyes on her, all I’ve wanted to do is get my dirty hands on her pure body.

 

There’s one minor obstacle standing in my way, but I’ve got a plan. All I’ve got to do is breed her, and she’ll be mine forever.

 

Warning: This book is over-the-top, insta-love breeding. There’s nothing but steamy scenes, babies trying to be made, and an obsessed bearded alpha hero claiming a virgin who will be his forever. If you want it hot and dirty, this is it!

 

*whispers* There’s a sweet smutty surprise at the end.

 



EXCERPT

 

 

Chapter 1 *Paine*

“Where the fuck did that piece of ass come from?” Pulling my head out from under the hood of the car, I follow Butch’s line of sight. He lets out a low whistle while staring out one of the garage doors. Irritation and jealousy shoot through my body, and I have no fucking clue why. Maybe it’s the way he said it or the tone of his voice, but I look past him to see what he’s talking about.

The blonde we both have our eyes on now looks like she stepped off a runway. Or what I’m guessing a runway model would look like. Although from the pictures I’ve seen in magazines of models, her curves are better. Her platinum-blonde hair hangs all the way to her waist where the ends start to curl. It makes me want to wrap my finger around one of them, grab a fistful of it as I pump my cock inside her. I wonder how she’d moan as I drove in and out of her.

Her short dress hugs her curves in all the right places and shows off her long legs. My eyes track down her stems to the ridiculously tall heels she’s wearing. I have no idea how she’s even walking in them on the uneven concrete that covers the front of my shop. The way she’s dressed makes me think she must be rich royalty. What she’s doing here I have no fucking clue because she clearly doesn’t fit.

She looks over at us, like she feels us watching her. Her gray eyes meet mine, and it’s like a sucker punch to my system. All the air leaves my lungs, and all my blood rushes to my cock. It makes me feel light-headed, and I grip the car I’m working on for support.

I’m too fucking old to get a hard-on just by looking at a chick. Twenty-eight isn’t old, but it’s too old to be getting turned on by something so simple. Too old to be having dirty thoughts about a random chick, something I haven’t done since I was a randy teenager. I don’t go dipping my dick into any random hole. A half-smile pulls at her lips, and it’s as if she’s trying to play innocent or some shit. Must be part of her game.

When she finally pulls her eyes from mine, I feel an unexplainable loss. Shit. That can’t be good.

“I got this one boss,” Butch says with a shit-eating grin on his face. It’s a look I know all too well, and I can see he’s making like he’s going to go greet the blonde piece of ass at the front of the office. Before he can make it two feet, I’m grabbing him by the arm.

That isn’t fucking happening. Butch always has women wrapped around his finger. Scratch that, wrapped around his dick is more like it. He’s got women falling at his feet whenever we go out, and it’s probably because he’s always running his mouth. From what he says, I seem to have a ‘don’t talk to me’ look pasted across my face, scaring them all away.

I have the urge to lay him out for just thinking about talking to her, but I push the feeling back because it’s fucking ridiculous. Like either one of us have a chance with a woman like that. Who knows what she’s doing in a small-ass town like this. Probably passing through and something went wrong with her ride. Here today, gone tomorrow. The thought makes my gut clench. I’ll need a taste before she’s gone. Something I’m sure won’t be easy.

“Finish dropping the engine in. I got her.” The irritation in my voice is clear as I order him back to work. I want to be the first to talk to her, but I see Joey beat me to the punch when I enter the front of the office.

“How long has it been making that sound?” Joey asks, pulling a pen from her dark black ponytail. When her hair catches the light a certain way, it almost looks blue.

“Well I was—” The blonde duchess stops talking when she finally notices I’ve joined them in the office. A slight blush hits her cheeks, and it makes my cock jerk. Double shit. A goddamn blush is making my cock ache with need.

I hear Joey drop the notepad down onto the counter, and I look over to see her rolling her eyes and returning the pen to her ponytail.

“I was sure it would be Butch.” Joey says with a smirk on her face. I’m sure she did think it would be Butch. Because chasing ass isn’t something I do. But it seems this little duchess has me bending some rules.

“He’s busy and he needs your help.” It’s a lie. Butch can finish the job on his own, but I don’t need Joey in here giving me lip or stocking up on things she can give me shit about later.

She snorts, but exits out the door I just entered and leaves me and the duchess all alone.

We both just stare at each. I’ve never seen a woman so perfect in my life. There is something about her, how flawlessly she is put together, that makes me want to throw her on the floor and fuck her right there. She’d be so dirty when I was done with her. The grease on my hands would smudge all over her clothes, her hair would be wild after I drove in and out of her, and her make-up would be smeared. I could look at her and know I did that. That I made this perfect little slip of a woman get dirty for me and she’d love it, beg me to do it over and over again until she was dripping with my cum.

She finally breaks eye contact, pulling those gray eyes from mine. It’s then I realize that I’m staring at her like a love-struck puppy. I clear my throat and get to the subject before I cum in my pants thinking about all the things I want to do to her.

“Your ride?” My voice comes out deeper than I mean for it to be as I make my way around the counter. I need to get a little space between us and cover up my hard cock before I scare her off.

“Oh yeah,” she says, biting her lip. I want to tell her to stop that, but I just brace my arms on the counter, waiting for her to continue. “I just got to town, and it started making some weird thumping noise.”

She looks like a scared rabbit, ready to bolt at any moment. I need to pull it back before I make her run. If she knew the things I was thinking about moments ago, she’d be long gone. I’m guessing the men she’s been with were smooth and soft with her, something I’m not sure I could be, but hell, if she asked I would sure as hell try just to have her beneath me for a few minutes. But I don’t think a few minutes would ever be enough with someone like her. I bet a taste would drive a man to his knees. She’s not used to talking to a dirty grease monkey like me. No, she’s more into suits and polos down at the country club. The thought of someone else touching her has a red haze hitting my eyes. They wouldn’t know what to do with her. I may not even know what to do with her, but I would die trying to give it to her. A woman like her should be worshiped and fucked regularly.

“It’s probably just your fan belt,” I finally say, trying to pull my thoughts from wanting to fuck her.

“Is that an easy fix? I have a ton of stuff I need to get done.”

I bite my tongue to keep from saying something rude. I’m sure duchess here has a big day of shopping ahead of her and doesn’t want to spend it in a dirty garage with the likes of me. I reach out wanting her keys, and she jumps back. She looks down at my hands, and I realize they aren’t the prettiest. They’re still smeared with grease from the last car I had my hands inside of. They show signs of manual labor, something she’s probably never done before. I bet her skin is soft and silky all over. Her hands wrapped around my cock would feel a whole lot better than my own, which is all my dick has been getting for a very long time. Maybe that’s why my dick is begging for something it shouldn’t be wanting right now.

“Keys,” I snap, making her jump again. I’m irritated that my hand repulsed her, and I can’t help the tone of my voice. I look up, and I can see the pulse in her neck start to pick up as she looks back at the door. I see what she’s thinking, but I put a stop to it.

“Only shop in town, duchess. Give me the keys.”

Her gray eyes go hard at the nickname, and she gives me an icy glare. Fuck. Even that turns me on. I’m starting to think there isn’t anything she could do to turn me off. How can someone piss you off and turn you on at the same time? I’m not sure how she’s doing it, but she is.

She digs in her purse, pulling her keys out and tossing them to me. I catch them in the air, wishing she would have just handed them to me. I could have stolen a touch and found out if she’s as soft as she looks.

“Come back in hour and she’ll be good to go.” I point to the clipboard on the counter. “Fill out your name and number so I can call you if I’m done before you’re back.”

She quickly scribbles down her number before turning and leaving the shop, giving me a nice view of her ass as she stomps out. I pull out my phone and look down to see her number and name and laugh when I see she identified herself as ‘Duchess.’ I program it into my phone before ripping her number off the sheet and putting it in my pocket. I hate the idea that it’s just sitting there for anyone to access it.

I quickly pull her Carrera GT into the shop and change her fan belt in record time. I’d like to say it’s because I’m just trying to get shit done, but I’d be lying to myself. I just want her back in here. The whole time I’m working on her car, I’m irritated at the idea that she’ll never give me the time of day. I’m a fucking joke to someone like her. Why even try?

Pulling out my phone to give her a call, I look up and see she’s already standing in the front office again. This time I see her laughing at something Butch just said, more at ease with him then she was with me.

I’m going to fucking kill him. He may be a little rough around the edges, but his blond hair and blue eyes always seem to pull the women in. He cleans up nicer than I seem to be able to. I look over to see Joey trying to hold back a laugh as she looks between me and what’s happening in the front office.

“Pull the fucking car out and drop the keys on the front counter when you’re done,” I snap at her, only making her laugh more. After a second she lifts her hand, extending her middle finger at me.

I stomp across the garage and throw the door open a little harder than I mean to. I’m shocked the glass window in the door doesn’t shatter when the door hits the wall. The sound makes Duchess jump again. Shit. All I seem to do is make her jump.

Butch just leans against the counter like he doesn’t have a care in the world, and irritation boils inside me. I look over at him and put an end to the conversation he’s having. “Back to work. I don’t pay you to flirt with customers.”

Duchess blushes at my words, looking embarrassed. If I had my way with her, that blush would cover every part of her skin. Yeah, like you’ll get that chance, a voice in the back of my mind says. Girls like her who ooze class won’t give me the time of day. No matter how hard I work, or what I have in my bank, they just think they’re better than me. Types like her want men in stiff suits and five-star dinners. I met a couple girls like her growing up, and I’ve learned to stay clear, and I always have, but something about her is pulling me in.

Butch winks at her on his way out, and it makes me grind my teeth as he strolls out the open door. If I `1both of his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to wink again for a while, I think to myself. Once he’s through the door, I reach over and slam it shut. I try to get myself together and push back all these foreign emotions. I take a breath and try to smooth things over.

“All fixed up. It was the belt,” I confirm. “Follow me to my office, and I’ll write up your bill.” I start walking back towards my office and feel myself release the breath I was holding when I hear the click of her heels following me. I look at the windows that line the garage and see both Joey and Butch watching. Probably wondering why I’m taking her to my office and not just checking her out in the front. I want her in my space. Maybe when we’re in my small office, I can finally get a smell of her.

I motion for her to sit down when we reach my office, and I close the door behind her. Then I hit the blinds on the window that looks out into the shop so no one can see us. Just her and me now.

Taking my seat at my desk, I watch as she fidgets with the trim of her dress in her lap. Her pink nail polish is perfectly done, and as I watch her fingers play with the edge, all I can think about is flipping her dress up to see if her panties match.

She looks so out of place in here. Just like most of the shop, my office is a freaking mess. I never got a nice desk or chairs because they’d be stained in two weeks. Everything is worn and old so I don’t worry about it getting fucked up. The contrast between her and the room is another reminder that she’d never be with someone like me. Even if I pulled just as good of a living as a suit, it’s still all about appearances to people like her. I match their bank accounts, but I sure as shit don’t belong.

“It was an easy fix.” I tell her as I start to fill out the receipt. I should have broken something else and made sure she stayed in town a little longer. “But I wouldn’t go too far for a while.” The lie trips off my tongue easily, but I don’t have a moment of guilt about it “Stay close to town, I mean.” I raise my eyebrows at her to gauge her reaction.

“Oh, I’m in town indefinitely.” The way she says it makes it clear she’s not happy about it. She doesn’t look like she belongs around here, seeing as there isn’t much to this small town. If you want something fancy, you have to make the two-hour drive into Denver.

“It’s one twenty-five for the belt with labor.”

Without hesitating she reaches into her purse and pulls out a silver American Express card.

“We don’t take those.” I don’t know why, but I don’t tell her that we take cards, just not Amex. I’m letting her draw her own conclusions.

“It’s all I have on me unless I can run to an ATM or something real quick.” She starts to rise from the chair like she’s leaving.

“Sorry, no ATM, and the bank is closed. I’m closing up shop for the night, so I need to get paid.” I lie again just as easily as before. They keep slipping from me, but I want to see her again. Maybe if I can get her back here tomorrow, I can come up with a game plan of making a move on her, or at least find out who she is and why she’s here. Everyone knows everything in a small town like this.

She plops back down into the chair. “But—”

I cut her off. “Just come back in the morning with the money.” I stand up and walk to the door like I’m going to leave, but she stops me.

“I need my car tonight. I still have a few errands I need to run. I have plans.”

I pause at the door, turning to look at her. She’s still sitting in the chair, staring up at me. Her eyes are pleading, like she’s trying to get me to crack with a pout on her full lips.

My eyes move to her chest and linger there, and it makes her breathing pick up. It gives me an opening, and I’m going to take it. I stroll back over to the front of my desk and sit my ass on the edge in front of her, my legs almost touching hers.

“You could pay me with something else.” My eyes roam her body, and I let my meaning become clear. I don’t know what made me say it, but the words are out of my mouth before I can pull them back. I expect her to stand up and slap me, or her to storm out of the office, but she just wiggles in her chair a little.

“Wha-what do…” She can’t even get the words out, and I don’t make her finish, because I’m impatient. If she isn’t running then I’m going to push a little more.

“Pull up your dress up. I want to see your panties.”

Her face turns red, but she grabs the hem of her skirt like she’s going to do it. But instead she just bunches it in her hands, her knuckles going white. Is she really this fucking shy? Nobody who looks like her, who’s dressed like that, is shy. She’s a rich duchess coming into a place like this and asking for it. Fuck it, if she wants to play shy, I’ll help her out.

Leaning forward, I grab her by the arms, her soft skin like silk against my fingers. I pull her to me so her legs go on either side of my large thighs as I stay seated on the edge of the desk. She lets out a squeak in response but makes no move to stop me. Interesting. I had no clue this would be so easy.

Reaching down with my stained hand, I flip her dress up, revealing white satin panties. Her legs are spread just enough that I can see a little wet spot.

Fuck.

She’s turned on, and I haven’t even done anything to her. The sight has my cock pushing against the zipper of my jeans, and I welcome the pain. Because it stops me from cumming in my pants.

“Hold it,” I say, indicating that I want her to hold up her dress for me. I need my hand for this.

“But I showed you. Now give me my keys.”

“That was for the belt, materials. This next part is for the labor.” I lick my lips just thinking about the next part. God, what I’d give to bury my face between her thick thighs and make her scream my name. I’d make her tell her who’s giving it to her. That she’s fucking the local mechanic. Not some preppy dick in a suit, which I’m sure is what she’s used to.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she blurts out, and it makes me clench my teeth. In spite of her words, her dress remains bunched up in her hands and she keeps herself revealed to me. That’s fine, Duchess. Pretend all you want. I’ll play if it gets me a little bit of you.

“Trust me, when I fuck you, you’ll beg for it.” Reaching down, I run my fingers across the soft panties, just teasing her a bit. I feel the damp spot against my digits, and I need more. I use two fingers to pull them to the side and feel her bare pussy. No fucking hair. I bet she has it waxed off. But for who, I wonder. The thought makes me jealous and angry, and I can’t hold back the growl that leaves my chest.

Her eyes go big at the sound, and I yank at the panties, pulling them from her body. I want to see her bare pussy for myself, and I want to mark it as mine. The thought is primal and barbaric, but I don’t care. I want this pussy for myself. Only mine. She might have waxed it for someone else, but I’m sure as fuck going to put my mark on it.

“What are you doing?” Her words come out breathless, but she makes no move to stop me or drop her dress. In fact, she leans into me a little more. She says one thing, but her body is betraying her.

I bring the underwear to my nose, smelling her sweet scent, and I let it fill my lungs, I almost lose it when I feel the wet spot against my face. Knowing I don’t have much time before I lose my load of cum, I drop her panties onto my desk and free my cock from my jeans.

“Oh, my God. You’re—”

“Huge,” I finish for her. “I know.”

Grabbing one of her hips, I pull her closer to me. Using my other hand, I guide my cock to her pussy lips. They part easily for the head of my dick, and I find her hard little clit begging for attention.

“Oh, God.”

“Not God, baby. Paine,” I correct her as I start to move the head of my cock back and forth on her clit. I want to rip the top of her dress and suck her big tits, but it would ruin the dress, and I don’t want her walking out of here with them on display. So I grip her hip a little tighter, making my hand stay in place.

“What are you doing to me?” Her eyes look glassy, her pupils dilated. She’s so fucking turned on, the smell of her pussy fills the room. Her juices coat the head of my cock, showing me how much she wants this too. Her body is begging for some cock.

It takes everything in me not to say, “Playing with your pussy, which is now mine.” Instead I go with, “Collecting the bill with your cunt.”

She moans, dropping her head back, her hair brushing my fingers that are gripping her hip.

She looks so young and pure, like she’s never known this kind of pleasure before. Shit.

“Please tell me you’re legal,” I growl. I’m not sure if I could pull away if she told me she’s underage. It might just be worth the prison time.

“Twenty-one,” she mumbles, lost in the pleasure. Thank fuck. I don’t know what I would have done. I’m sure there isn’t a thing that could pull her from me in this moment.

“You like this?” I ask, picking up speed, rubbing her clit back and forth with the head of my dick, slipping easily through her juicy pussy lips. “You use this pussy to get whatever you want, don’t you? I bet you have men wrapped around your finger.” The words make me sound like an asshole, and I know it. I started this, but I hate that she so easily let me have her. Does she do this with everyone? Is this some game to her? Here I am, falling all over her and this could mean nothing to her, but maybe she thinks the same of me. She has no idea that I don’t fall all over women. Hell, I haven’t even thought about a woman in years. Too busy working on my shop. Until her.

I push the thoughts away because I won’t ruin this for myself. I’m going to enjoy this perfection I have in my hands while I’ve got it.

“Fuck you.” She says the words angrily as she tries to move her hips. She’s mad as hell but wants to make me go faster. I tighten my grip on her even more so she can’t take what she wants. She’s bound to have marks there tomorrow from the way I’m holding her.

I can tell she is about to cum, her body strung tight. I’m so fucking close too, but I’m controlling this. She already has too much control of me; I at least get this.

“Soon I’ll be fucking you, Duchess. You’ll take me inside your little cunt until I fill you with every drop of cum I have. Then I’ll do it over and over again until you beg me to stop.”

“Paine!” She yells my name, cumming at my filthy words. She’s probably never been talked to like that, and I fucking love it.

I let myself cum with her, releasing the cum that’s been building up in my balls since she strolled her ass into my shop. My cum coats her clit, her pussy lips, and thighs. I cum harder than I’ve ever cum in my entire life. I cum so hard, I see stars. The intensity rocks me to my core. It’s something I’ve never felt before, and warmth fills my chest.

When I finally come back to earth, she’s dropping her skirt and backing away from me.

“Duchess,” I say, reaching for her and wanting to touch her lips to mine. I want to finally get a taste of her. She had to have felt what just happened here. It was life changing. There’s something between us, but she dodges my hand and bolts for the door.

It takes me a minute to get my still-hard cock back into my jeans before I run after her. By the time I make it to the front of the shop, I see her car pulling out, the screech of tires filling my ears.

“How’d she get the keys?” I look over and see Joey standing behind the counter. I give her a hard glare, and she holds her hands up in defense.

“They were sitting right here. I thought she was good to go.” She raises an eyebrow in question, but I don’t answer her.

Fuck me, I don’t even know her name.

 


 

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PUBLIVERSARY SALE – Avelyn Paige

 
 
 
Evie Carter has faced trials and tribulations her entire life. Her teenage years have been ripped away from her as she battles cancer. Just when things can’t get any worse, her doctor delivers the news that it’s finally time to make a life or death decision. Her options are limited and come with deadly consequences. The miracle drug that is meant to save her life changes her on a cellular level. She might not be damaged anymore, but she might just be damned in her new life. 
 
 
 
 


 
 
Bloody…broken…barely surviving…
 
Danae “Dani” Espinoza is on the run and desperate to escape the demons of her past. Plans to hide out in a sleepy Los Angeles suburb turn into a pipe dream as she is drawn into the secret filled world of the local motorcycle club. Dani soon learns that her secrets and lies are nothing compared to those kept behind the clubhouse doors. Trying to avoid the suspicious Vice President, she must keep a low profile in order to survive. The trouble is he has other ideas.

Bike…babes…and booze…
 
Tyler “Hero” Tobias has simple needs. Being the Heaven’s Rejects MC Vice President, he has all three at his disposal. But he has his own ghosts that keep him awake at night. When Dani arrives at the clubhouse, he knows he should stay away but there is something about her dark beauty and the mystery that surrounds her that makes him burn. There are secrets in her eyes and lies in her smile and he knows he should put his club first, but Hero’s heart and loyalty are about to be tested.

Can an angel with blood-covered wings and the devil himself resist temptation or will they risk bringing hellfire down on everything that they love?

 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
Photographer: Kruse Photography
Cover Model: Alfie Gordillo
Cover Designer: The Final Wrap
 
Abandoned & Broken
 
Left alone to raise a family, widower Darcy Kyle’s life has spiraled out of control. When secrets about her husband’s past emerge, Darcy is forced to confront the fact her husband’s fatal accident may, in fact, have been deliberate. Forced to sell her soul to the Devil himself, Darcy must uncover the truth of her husband’s accident…before it’s too late.
 
Betrayed & Bitter
 
Cast into Hell, Raze has given his life as President of the Heaven’s Rejects MC, but what good is it when he can’t protect the people he cares about? His brother’s death, his wife’s betrayal… it’s too much for a mere mortal to handle. Luckily for Raze, he is the ruler of this Hell on Earth. But even the Devil has a weakness, and when Darcy Kyle sticks her nose in the club’s business he finds himself questioning his loyalty to his brother’s memory.
 
How can the Devil resist an angel bathed in the ashes of the fallen?

 

Release Date: June 23rd, 2015

Pre-order now for $1.99


 

Avelyn Paige is a born and raised Indiana girl. She may be a Hoosier by birth, but she’s a Boilermaker by choice!
Avelyn lives in rural Indiana with her pastor husband, 2 spoiled cats, and one very odd looking dog.
She’s an oncology research scientist by day and a writer and book review blogger by night. She enjoys reading anything she can get her hands, baking, and spending time with her friends and family. 
 
 



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BLOG TOUR ~ A Reliant Love by Taylor Lavati

 

A Reliant Love
(A Reliant Love Series: Book One)

Author Taylor Lavati

 

Blog Tour
 
 
Synopsis
 
Nathalie Carter wants one thing: independence. She has paid her dues by living at home under her parents’ watchful eyes, earning grades to give her a ticket out and joining clubs she had no interest in to get into college. She plans to experience things she believes every new adult should—from falling in love to playing beer pong and pulling an all-nighter to skipping class because she’s too hungover. But
nothing ever seems to go as planned, and she gets pulled into a world she never imagined existed.
Samuel Torrington’s past refuses to release him from its vise-like grip; but he has a plan, and once his senior year of college is over, he can finally move away and start anew. His addictions help him get through day-to-day life, but he’s constantly battling darker demons.
Fate brings the two together, and chance takes them on a roller coaster ride that neither would dare hop off. Within destiny’s grasp, they realize there are two things impossible to fight—addiction and attraction.



Buy Links
 
 
Digital
Amazon US | Amazon UK | iTunes | KOBO | Nook

 


  

 


Playlist

 

Stop and Stare – One Republic
Pusha – Lloyd
Lips of an Angel – Hinder
Semi-charmed Life – Third Eye Blind
Over This – Ace Enders
Goodbye My Lover – James Blunt
Scars – Papa Roach
Lit Up – Buckcherry
Animal I Have Become – Three Days Grace
I Miss You – Blink 182
Stay – Florida Georgia Line
Breathe Me – Sia

 




Interview with Sam
 
Please state your name, age and something about yourself.
 
  • Sam Torrington, twenty-two years old. I’m a senior here and waiting to get out.

 

Get out from where exactly?
 
  • Here. You know, why are we even doing this interview? I don’t get it. I’ve never been interviewed once since starting at UMA four years ago. You guys are slacking.

 

Let’s get back to you, Sam. What do you like to do in your free time?
 
  • *sighs* Well, I don’t have much free time. I’m a business major and trying to finish as fast as possible. Plus, I have to work in the summers to afford my house. Doesn’t leave me with much time. 

 

So you don’t do anything for yourself?
 
  • Not really. 

 

What was your high school experience compared to college?
 
  • Seriously? You’re asking me about high school. I don’t talk about high school anymore. But if I learned one thing it’s that we all don’t deserve to be happy. Some people are just meant to float along in life. That’s me. So that’s why I’m getting the hell out of here so I can just live in peace and quiet.

 

That’s an interesting plan. What will you do when you leave?
 
  • I’ll have my business degree so I can get a job. Maybe, I’ll open a store in the mountains somewhere where not a lot of people go. My house will be hidden in the woods, nobody can find me, even if they wanted to. There will be just enough room for just me and it will be quiet all the time. Maybe I’ll get a dog, but only if I get lonely. I don’t need much.

 

That’s actually really beautiful. Why do you want to be alone?
 
  • It’s not what I want, it’s what I deserve. I ruined a lot of things and if I’m alone in the woods, I can’t ruin much more. Nobody even has to interact with me. I can’t do much harm up there.

 

Anything you’re looking forward to this year at UMA?
 
  • Finishing. My classes are pretty easy. All I have to do is show up to my classes and I’m good to go. It’ll be bittersweet saying goodbye but I’m ready. I just have to remain distant from my peers and I’ll be good.

 

Anyone you’ll miss?
 
  • My roommate Karina and I have gotten close. Her boyfriend, Frank. Sometimes he’s a douche, but I’ll miss his humor. Sarah will be the toughest but she’s the reason I have to go.

 

Who is Sarah?
 
  • Nobody. I’m done here. Thanks. 

 
About the Author
 

Taylor Lavati is a twenty-something year old author residing in a small town in Connecticut with her husband and dog. She writes both Young Adult and New Adult romances with ranging genres from fantasy, A Curse Books trilogy, to dark romance, A Reliant Love. Her books have all hit #1 on the Amazon bestselling chart for their categories! When not writing, she enjoys playing video games, hiking, and spending time with family.Romance with a bit of CHAOS.

Visit her at taylorlavati.com
Subscribe to her newsletter http://eepurl.com/4saHb
Chat with her @taylorjlavati
Or here! www.facebook.com/taylorlavati

  

 

What Others Are Saying
 
“I absolutely loved this book. Taylor’s writing style really sucks you into this story of the darker side of life. Most people love to read about happily ever afters and lighthearted love story, but that isn’t what life is like. I always say ignorance is bliss. And to read this novel about how life is really like is just amazing. Don’t take my word for it, don’t read these reviews. Read the book yourself, and you will see the struggles of these characters and feel what they feel. You won’t regret it.” 
Karlin The Bibliophile (Contreras)
 

“I bought this book on recommendation, and fell in love. The characters pull you in and make you invested. Mad, sad, worried, and over the moon with joy are just some of the emotions I experienced while reading this amazing book. I couldn’t put it down! I can not wait to start the second book to see how am deals with his past and the consequences of his actions!” 
The Book Blog ~Jessica


 

BLOG TOUR ~ Strange Magic by Michelle Mankin

 

 Title: Strange Magic

Series: The Magic Series #1

By: Michelle Mankin


Publication Date: April 25, 2016

Genre: Paranormal Romance

 

Billy Blade is a hardworking, hard living, razor sharp musical force. Mysterious behind his dark shades, the rough around the edges Texan mesmerizes with his haunting harmonica and tantalizes with his dangerous looks and smooth country charm. His latest album is topping the charts. He’s the newly crowned King of the Bacchus Krewe. He’s definitely living the rock star dream.

Exotic Creole beauty Thyme Bellerose couldn’t be more content. She has it all. An adoring grandmother. A handsome Tulane medical student beau. A satisfying job in the heart of New Orleans’ French Quarter. Her life is as rich as the ice cream she creates. She’s got everything under control.

But control is an illusion. Dreams can turn into nightmares. And now during Mardi Gras, otherworldly powers stand ready to shape their destinies in ways they could never imagine.

Shadow and light.

Magic and mystery.

Reality and myth.

All come together in a place where rules bend and lines blur.

Even those between life and death.


 

PROLOGUE

Billy

“Dammit, de’pouille.”

I quickly grabbed a pillow and covered my lap while Arla Gautreaux rolled his eyes to the ceiling as if searching for the patience he required within the recessed lighting of the tour bus.

Access to my dick denied to her, the brunette kneeling on the floor between my spread legs rocked back on her spiked heels. She wasn’t wearing anything else. Neither was the other brunette on the bed next to me, but she wasn’t as bold as her companion and pulled the rumpled silk sheet in front of her too big to be real breasts. The entire scene too familiar to be shocking to him anymore, my manager continued to voice his displeasure peppering the air with Cajun curses strong enough to make my eyes water.

“Next time maybe try knocking,” I mouthed lamely. It wasn’t much of a defense. He had it right when he called me a hot mess. I was a pedal to the floor, picking up major momentum, barreling headlong down a predictable path to its natural dead end disaster.

“I’ll start asking your permission to enter,” Arla tapped his watch and jerked his chin over his shoulder to emphasize his point, “when you start taking your commitments seriously, no? You forget you have a show tonight, Billy?”

I shook my head. Of course, I hadn’t. “Excuse me, darlin’.” I tossed the pillow aside and moved Brunette One out of the way so I could yank up the Rock 47 jeans from around my ankles. She and her eager friend might have told me their names at sound check before they offered me their services as a two for one deal, but I’d be damned if I could remember either one. In fact, I was already regretting taking them up on it.

“I gotta go. Playtime’s over,” I announced gruffly despising the weakness that made me screw up everything in my life.

Untamable strands of dark blond slid forward effectively shielding my eyes from my manager’s condemnation as I carefully tucked my dick back inside, buttoned my fly and re-buckled my Nocona belt.

“If you wanna keep your fans and tour sponsors you need to stop pulling stunts like this, podna.” Arla dished out the well-deserved verbal lashing ignoring the brunettes as they sifted through drifts of empty liquor bottles and six months of accumulated tour clutter for their discarded clothing.

“You’re right, Arla. I screwed up. I know.” I swiveled at the waist snagging my favorite wadded up black Fender t-shirt from where it lay on the bed behind me. Bunching the soft cotton between my fingers, I punched my head through the frayed collar. Before I could get my arms into the sleeves, one of the white gold bands from the silver chain I wore around my neck got caught on a loose thread. Guilt burned inside my gut as I paused to untangle it.

“I hope so, Blade.” Arla slammed me with a censuring gaze the moment I looked up, his dark scowl eradicating the trio of laugh lines that usually framed his muddy brown eyes. “I surely do hope so, but lately it doan seem like anything I say gets through to you.” Arla’s lazy way of drawing out his words and stressing the last syllable came from time spent deep down in the Louisiana swamp and was even more noticeable than my south Texas twang.

Arla’s disappointment stung. I didn’t really care what most people thought about me, but he was a loyal friend, one of the few who had stuck by me when everyone else had written me off as a

lost cause. For nearly a year I had taken a sabbatical from everything, holing up in the old tool shed behind my parents’ house, drowning my sorrow in alcohol. The only breaks in the monotony were the regular visits from the one man who had refused to give up on me. If not for his stubborn persistence, I’d probably still be languishing within the ramshackle confines of my self-imposed exile.

Walkie talkie sputter crackling in his hand, Arla made a rolling gesture with the other. I knew the drill. Best get moving. Arla wasn’t some label lackey that I could brush off or push around. We’d been together too many years for that, since the very beginning of my career when I had been seventeen and winning the Professional Bull Riding world championship had been my goal. Singing had just been more of an afterthought, something I did to impress the chicks. Pathetic now that I thought about it, how my pickup technique hadn’t changed in all this time.

Anyway, Arla had convinced me to hang up the spurs, placed a guitar in my hands and insisted I learn to play. He had showed me the basics of songwriting, and not long after I got the knack of it he had negotiated my first record deal. The latest one with Black Cat Records was his doing as well.

“Blade, take us backstage with you,” Brunette One whined blocking my exit, a pile of clothes in her arms, but still as naked as the day she’d been born. Brunette Two in her bra and jeans hovered beside her friend chewing disinterestedly on a raggedy red thumbnail.

“No can do, darlin’.” I stepped around her snagging sunglasses from the shelf and lifting my black Stetson off its stand. I raked back the thick layers of my hair to get them out of my eyes before shoving the hat down on my head. “We leave for Houston directly after the show tonight.” I slid on the dark aviator shades I always wore on stage, dismissing her, but more importantly shielding my glacier blue eyes from Arla’s scrutiny.

He barked an order to event security on his handheld before addressing my companions. “Ladies, you’ve got two minutes to get dressed and get off the bus. I’m sending someone back here in case you need some encouragement.” He turned and made his way down the center aisle past the sleeping bunks to the front lounge without pausing to look over his shoulder to see if I followed. He didn’t need to. I might be on the slow road to ruin but I didn’t have a death wish.

My three man security detail and my personal assistant, Lorraine, fell into place around us as soon as we stepped onto the pavement. As a unit we set off across the gated lot where all the buses were parked. The steady roar of the outdoor crowd grew louder as we approached the scaffolding of the stage but I knew it would be even crazier once I stepped out in front of them.

A warm wind with just a hint of brine from the bay rolled a discarded Outside Lands festival cup across my path. I stepped over it just beginning to run through the set list in my mind when Arla spoke again.

“Just got the call from the Bacchus Krewe Captain.” Hearing the edge of excitement in his voice I knew it had to be good news. “They chose you,podna.”

“Seriously?” That was cool but it wasn’t something that came totally out of left field. Arla had buddies who were on the committee. Each year the thousand or so members of the Bacchus Krewe chose a top tier celebrity to be their king and fashioned their theme around him. Because of Arla’s connections I knew that my name was on their short list, but then so were a lot of other notables.

“Yeah, Blade. When’s it goan sink in that thick skull of yours how big of a deal you done become? Country entertainer of the year. Grammy for song of the year and best rock album. Cover of Rolling Stone. Top of the list for rock and country sales for over half the year. Why wouldn’t Bacchus want you?”

I shrugged. I didn’t put a lot of stock in awards and shit. It was nice to receive those honors, don’t get me wrong. It was just that I tried not to focus on stuff that was outside my control. It was hard enough to manage the things that I could. But I knew this one was a big deal to my native New Orleans boss.

“Don’t make any plans in February. It’s not just the parade you’ll be officiating. You’ll also be performing at their masked Rendezvous Supper Dance in the Morial Convention Center. Your ceremonial duties aren’t quite as complicated as those in the older more traditional Mardi Gras Krewes, but we’ll still have a ton of stuff to go over as the event gets closer.” He shot me a serious look and held out his hand. “Here.” I took the coin he offered me. “That’s just a prototype. When you’re in the parade you’ll wave your scepter and the other riders on your float will toss those wherever you point.”

I studied the silver dollar sized doubloon.

I knew the ones from Bacchus were some of the most collected and valuable of all the carnival throws. They sold for thousands of dollars after Mardi Gras on auction sites. Mine was black and had a silver imprint of me in my cowboy hat and sunglasses on the front. That same side also had the year twenty fifteen and the parade number. The flip side was engraved with an image of my harmonica, the date again and the theme ‘Celebrating Mouth Harp Charmers’.

A blast of icy wind that came out of nowhere suddenly lifted the hair underneath my hat and raised chill bumps on my arms.

I glanced around to see how everyone else was reacting but oddly no one else in my entourage seemed to have been affected. “Arla,” I began. “Did you feel that…”I trailed off as the ground started to roll like a boat on a choppy lake beneath my feet. I swayed and my vision tunneled. I heard three long protracted harmonica notes. A beautiful woman’s face materialized within a smoky haze that I knew had nothing to do with the famous San Francisco fog.

Though I’d never seen her before she seemed strangely familiar. Haunted violet eyes locked with mine as if it were a two way exchange, as if she could really see me. Not just the man I was now, but also the man I had been, the one who used to give a damn, the one who had been buried under the rubble of his demolished heart.

“Help me,” the violet eyed beauty intoned faintly with an accent I couldn’t place. “Please.”

“Hey, Billy.” Arla put his hand on my arm. I jumped. “You ok?”

The spell was broken.

“Where the hell is he?” The voice on the other end of Arla’s walkie talkie exploded with high volume disembodied displeasure.

The sounds and sensations of the here and now effectively swept away the lingering traces of whatever the hell had just happened. Just one more freaky occurrence I’d have to chalk up to alcohol and my overactive imagination.

No more mixing tequila and whiskey, I vowed.

“Relax. We’ve got him. We’re coming down the corridor now. He’ll be there in five,” Arla responded calmly, his wrinkle free western shirt and pressed Wrangler jeans outward reflections of his inner chillaxed attitude. Though he had an intricate tattoo spanning the entire length of his spine that told me there was a little unexpected rebel beneath the polish. I could always count on him to keep his head despite the chaos that I or anyone else threw at him. Irate record execs, clingy groupies, condescending rehab administrators who didn’t appreciate me checking in wearing only boxers and boots; no one kicked my boss from the bayou out of his steady groove.

“You’re thirty minutes late this time.” Arla shook his head, the ends of his dark brown hair brushing his collar. “You’re lucky Blackberry Smoke extended their set to cover for you.” He gave me another censuring glance that might’ve had me quaking in my boots a couple of years ago, but not anymore. Not these days. Not the soon to be crowned Bacchus monarch, the prince of the rock and country airways Billy Blade. The no longer down and out, scraping out a meager living playing nothing but cash songs at BYOB honkytonks out in the boondocks. These days I was the comeback sensation everyone was talking about, a headliner selling out maximum capacity stadium sized venues. A mega huge superstar.

Fucking fickle fame.

It was all due to the success of my latest album Never Too Dead to Dance. The title sucked wind, in more ways than one I could assure you, but I was proud of the songs I’d written for it after crawling away from the wreckage of my life post rehab. I’d channeled all the bad stuff, all the broken dreams, the heartache and the anger into my music. The only time I really felt like my old self anymore was when I was up on stage playing those tunes. If I wanted to continue having the privilege of doing so I would do well to pay attention to the boss. People were counting on me. Loads of them. The crew. And my fans. It was time I stopped being such a self-hating, self-absorbed bastard.

Arla took off to negotiate the next big deal on my behalf while I jogged up the steps to the stage. Rodney, my guitar tech, handed me my custom black and silver Gibson hollow body. I threw the strap over my shoulder and clipped it into place, not missing a step as I strode out onto the brightly lit stage, an earsplitting boom from the Golden Gate Park capacity crowd nearly blowing the hat off my head. I still hadn’t gotten used to it, even though it had been like this at nearly every stop for over a year now. As low as I’d been, I’d never take it for granted.

I tipped my hat to the audience out on the grassy lawn to show them my respect and the sea of fifty thousand Outside Lands festival fans cheered even louder. Cell phone cameras flashed from the bikini clad chicks on their boyfriend’s shoulders upfront and the tented VIP booths on the far sidelines where the rich cats paid thirty-six hundred dollars a ticket.

It was wall to wall people in every direction, a massive swarm of living breathing humanity.

Well, not all of them were living and breathing. There were others out there, too. Ones only I seemed to be able to see. Ones I refused to dwell on. They were nowhere in sight at the moment, but I knew from experience that they wouldn’t remain hidden for long…

not if I blew into my harmonica.

 


 


 


 

The New York Times bestselling author of the Black Cat Records series of novels.

Romance with subtext.

Reimagining classic stories with sexy rock stars and thought provoking issues.

Love EvolutionLove Revolution, and Love Resolution are a BRUTAL STRENGTH centered trilogy, combining the plot underpinnings of Shakespeare with the drama, excitement, and indisputable sexiness of the rock ‘n roll industry.

Things take a bit of an edgier, once upon a time turn with the TEMPEST series. These pierced, tatted, and troubled Seattle rockers are young and on the cusp of making it big, but with serious obstacles to overcome that may prevent them from ever getting there.

Rock stars, myths, and legends collide with paranormal romance in a totally mesmerizing way in the MAGIC series.

When Michelle is not prowling the streets of her Texas town listening to her rock music much too loud, she is putting her daydreams down on paper or traveling the world with her family and friends, sometimes for real, and sometimes just for pretend as she takes the children to school and back.

 

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