Daily Archives: 08/03/2017

BOOK TOUR ~ Cheater by Rachel Van Dyken

 

Cheater by Rachel Van Dyken is NOW LIVE!

What are you waiting for?  Grab your copy TODAY!

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Blurb

Lucas Thorn wasn’t born a cheater. All it took was a single moment—say, a certain disastrous incident on the night before his wedding—and boom. Reputation destroyed forever and always. So now he owns it. He has a lady friend for every night of the week (except Sundays—God’s day and all), and his rules are simple: No commitments. No exceptions.

But a certain smart-mouthed, strawberry blonde vixen is about to blow that all to hell.

Avery Black has never forgiven Lucas for cheating on her sister. And suddenly being forced to work with him is pretty much a nightmare on steroids. Of course, it does afford her the opportunity to make his life as difficult as possible. But no good revenge scheme comes without payback. Because he didn’t become the Lucas Thorn without learning a few things about women.

Now Avery’s lust for vengeance has turned into, well, lust. And if Lucas stops cheating, it’s definitely not because he’s falling in love…


Excerpt 

The office building loomed ahead of me. I squinted up at it, covering my face with part of my hand as the sun cast its glare against the glass.

“What are we looking at?” Lucas whispered in my ear.

I let out a little yelp and jumped away from him, and I would have run into a passing biker if Lucas hadn’t pulled me out of the way with his coffee-free hand.

“Must you be such a pain in the ass?”

“Must you try to kill me?” I fired back.

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.” He started walking, hauling me with him.

We weren’t walking in the direction of the office.

“Um, Thorn—”

“I will seriously shove this Starbucks up that skinny ass if you don’t stop talking and just listen for once in your life.”

I shut up and followed, but only because he’d said “Starbucks” and was very purposefully moving in the nearest outpost’s general direction. If I looked pathetic enough, would he buy me coffee?

That was what my life was coming to.

Pity coffee.

My shoulders slumped at the thought when we walked into the building. The smell of fresh baked goods hit me with full force, and my stomach growled loudly, saying to everyone, I’m a hungry bear and may eat my young. Out of the way, please!

I followed Lucas to the line, still tempted to speak, but I figured if he wanted noise from me, he’d say something like, “You may grace me with your voice now, Avery.”

Even though I wasn’t talking, every time I heard someone order pumpkin bread I sighed, loudly, so loudly that the barista eyed me cautiously. Chill, Starbucks, I’m not going to steal a piece of pumpkin bread.

My mouth watered.

I mean, I wasn’t that desperate.

But if I took two, maybe three, steps toward her, yelled “Fire!” and then screamed nonsense about a bee attacking me, the pumpkin bread she had in hand would probably fall to the ground, and it would be wasteful if I didn’t rescue it from the ants.

All creatures deserve food—but pumpkin bread was too good for ants, too rich, and they’d explode all over the floor from the richness and it would be my fault—for saving the barista’s life, right? From the bee?

I think I just confused myself.

“Why are you breathing so heavy?” Lucas asked from my right.

I snapped out of my pumpkin-bread daydream and shrugged. “Sorry, low on sleep.”

He gave a noncommittal nod and then it was his turn, greedy little bastard already had one coffee now he was getting two! “A venti macchiato and a large coffee with room for cream, two slices—”

I elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Sorry, um, three slices of pumpkin bread, thanks.”

He handed the barista his card, while my greedy eyes locked on the pumpkin bread as the barista placed it into a bag and gave it to him.

With an exasperated sigh, he shoved the bag into my hands. “Just leave me one bite.”

“No promises.” I was already digging into the bag, my mouth watering as I followed him around the counter with a little pep in my step.

Lucas grabbed our drinks and motioned toward one of the tables. I sat, stuffed more pumpkin goodness into my mouth, and managed to chug some coffee almost all at once.

Lucas shook his head. “I always forget how seriously you take your pumpkin bread.”

I moaned and took another huge bite. “My theory is this.”

He leaned forward, a smile curving around his gorgeous mouth. “Alright, out with it.”

More pumpkin bread found its way into my mouth as I talked—I didn’t even care if I looked like a starved animal. “Pumpkin bread has the same addictive properties as cocaine.”

“That’s your theory? That it’s a drug?”

“Right.” I sighed and leaned back. “Except it doesn’t make you skinny, unfortunately.”

His smile widened, and he grabbed a small hunk of bread. “Want to know my theory?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking—I hope Lucas tells me his theory so I can eat his portion of bread.”

Lucas scooted the bag toward me and whispered, “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, pumpkin gods.” I moaned again.

His eyes darted to my mouth.

“What?” I wiped my lips. “Is something on my face?”

“No.” He looked away. “So my theory is this . . . pumpkin flavoring is a conspiracy by the government to see how many ways we can market a flavor and make money off it.”

“Boo.” I gave him a thumbs-down. “Thanks, grinch. Oh, and stop ruining holidays.”

He smirked. “You’ve known forever that Santa isn’t real. Still doesn’t stop you from leaving him cookies every Christmas Eve, then sneaking downstairs and eating them all by yourself.”

“One”—I held up a finger—“it’s genius because nobody will touch them for fear that I’ll get mad. Two”—I held up a second finger—“when everyone else is sad about the Christmas cookies being gone, I know I’ll have them all to myself. It’s like . . .” I sighed, “. . . a Christmas present. To myself.”

“Except for that one time.” He smirked.

“Cruel man.” I glared at him. “How dare you eat my cookies?”

He shrugged. “They were sweet.”

Was it hot? In this little Starbucks? By the window where the sun was searing me alive like I was under a magnifying glass?

I tugged at my sleeveless blouse.

“About Saturday . . .”

Uncomfortable conversation, here we come! I strapped in and waited for the inevitable. And then realized, to my dismay, that he’d just bought me coffee and food without letting me go to the office.

My eyes filling with tears, I shook my head a few times. “Lucas, I may give you crap, but I really need this job.”

He frowned, like he was confused.

“Don’t say another word.” I held out my hands. “I’ll do anything, Lucas—and I mean anything—to keep this job. I wasn’t kidding when I said my parents were chomping at the bit to get me to move home, and I don’t want to. It’s not just about me being defiant; they want me to take over the family business.”

Lucas burst out laughing and then sobered. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“I can’t sell chicken, Thorn.”

“I mean, to be fair, Avery, your parents own a very lucrative organic meats company. I’m sure they could offer you at least five figures.” His smile was way too smug, but I still had to be nice to him rather than throw him off a cliff, because he could fire me.


 


About the Author:

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads



BOOK TOUR ~ Cole by Tijan

    

He was the leader of the mafia.
I was about to fall in love with him, and his name…Cole Mauricio.

Cole by Tijan is NOW LIVE!

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Full Blurb

I shouldn’t have remembered him.

He was just a guy who walked through a restaurant. I didn’t know his name. We never made eye contact. There was no connection between us at all.

But I could feel him.

The tingle down my spine. The command in his presence. The snap of tension in the air around him. That was the first time I saw him, and I was captivated.

The second time was different.

He was in the mysterious back elevator of my apartment building. Our eyes met for a fleeting second before the doors closed, and I was staggered. My breath was robbed. My senses on high alert. My body hummed.

That was just the beginning.

He was the leader of the mafia. I was about to fall in love with him, and his name…

Cole Mauricio


 


Excerpt

Once inside the elevator, I stood to one side, watching him. He returned my gaze.

We still did not touch.

My chest tightened, hoping no one would call the elevator at that moment. We sailed past the lobby, the second floor, and stopped at mine. I put in the code, and the doors opened to my home.

I drew in a breath, filling my lungs again. God, it was time.

Stepping out with shaky knees, I bypassed the light switch. The full moon lit up my entire floor. I went to the kitchen and paused at the island. “Did you want something to drink?” I caught sight of the tequila and wine on the counter. There was more than enough.

Cole stepped up behind me and followed my gaze. “Were you going to have a party?” he asked, his breath coating the back of my neck.

I shivered, closing my eyes for one delicious moment. “I stocked up. I thought a friend was coming over tonight.”

His hand rested on my back, nudging my sweater aside to touch my skin. “He?”

“She. Sia.” I looked over my shoulder. He was so close. “She stood me up for a date.”

A faint smile showed. “I need to send her a thank-you card.”

“Please don’t sign it.”

“Why not?”

I turned around, easing my back against the island. Cole placed his hands on either side of me, trapping me in place.

“Because she’s slightly obsessed with you, though she’s in love with someone else now. She could circle back,” I joked.

“Me?”

“We saw you one night.”

“When?” He leaned away, but his hands remained on the counter. It was like he was giving me breathing space on purpose.

“At Gianni’s. We went there the night I moved in.”

He didn’t move, but I could feel him pulling away. A protest started in my head, but I bit back the words. He didn’t reply. He was waiting for me instead.

I continued, “You came in with a bunch of men and went upstairs. That was it.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did you talk to anyone?”

“What do you mean?”

“The staff?”

“About you?”

“About anything.”

My forehead wrinkled. “Sia networked with the hostess. They exchanged cards. Sia said the girl was a model. She recognized her from the Gala. That was it. Oh, well, another server sat with us for a drink later on. But they mostly talked with Sia about the Gala and about photographers—stuff like that.”

He relaxed, his hands loosening their hold on the counter. I was scared to ask what he was so worried they’d told us.

“I don’t know who you are.” I lifted a hand, placing it on his chest. His heart was racing, just like mine. My mouth parted in surprise. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

He glanced down at my hand and held still. He was thinking something over. I held my tongue, worried it was me, that he was second-guessing this night for us. I wanted to tell him there was nothing to worry about, but it sounded ridiculous. I really had no idea. So I waited it out, my heart pressing against my rib cage.

When he looked back up, the hunger was in his eyes again—dark, primal, and more evident than ever. He took my hand and leaned in, closing the distance between us. With his other hand, he cupped the side of my face. “I wasn’t second-guessing this. I want you to know that.” His touch was tender.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Something else, but it wasn’t you.”

“This is one of those moments where you wish you could tell me, but you can’t? Not yet?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. His eyes moved from mine to my lips. “Something like that, yes.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” I started to tease, but then his head dipped down, and his lips were on mine.

I gasped. The pleasure was immediate. His mouth was gentle, but as he felt my body’s reaction, he applied pressure. His touch grew more demanding, then I was kissing him back. I wanted more. Someone groaned. That was me.

His hand slid around to the back of my neck. He held me in his grip as his mouth explored mine, opening over me and slipping inside. My hands grasped his shoulders, just holding on. All I could focus on was his tongue. I met his with mine and reveled in the sensation. But it wasn’t enough. Need shot through my whole body.

My hands slid under his shirt and moved over his back and shoulders. His body was just as powerful as his presence. I felt the shift of his muscles. They trembled under my hands. The feeling was intoxicating. I had power over him, and I wanted more. I wanted to see how much power I actually had.

Pulling back, I studied him.

He was panting lightly. So was I.

I could see him wondering what I was going to do, so I reached back to the counter and started to lift myself. His hands caught the backs of my thighs, and he lifted me the rest of the way. Now sitting on the edge of the island, my legs parted, and he was back between them. His mouth went right to mine.

I couldn’t get over what I was doing. I didn’t care.

I didn’t think I would care the next day, the day after, or however long this lasted. I had no clue. I only knew I had one night. One long night.


Author Information

I didn’t begin writing until after undergraduate college. There’d been storylines and characters in my head all my life, but it came to a boiling point one day and I HAD to get them out of me. So the computer was booted up and I FINALLY felt it click. Writing is what I needed to do. After that, I had to teach myself how to write. I can’t blame my teachers for not teaching me all those years in school. It was my fault. I was one of the students that was wishing I was anywhere but at school! So after that day, it took me lots of work until I was able to put together something that resembled a novel. I’m hoping I got it right since someone must be reading this profile! And I hope you keep enjoying my future stories.

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BOOK TOUR ~ Running Mate by Katie Ashley

  

“The race will be a fight to the death finish, and that’s not even the actual campaign.”

Meet Barrett Callahan in Running Mate by Katie Ashley!

NOW AVAILABLE & FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!

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Full Blurb

 

Barrett

The name’s Barrett Callahan. Yeah, that Barrett Callahan—the one the press dubbed “Bare” after those naked sexting pictures surfaced. At twenty-five, I was armed with an MBA from Harvard, an executive position at my father’s Fortune 500 company, a penthouse, and a different piece of delectable eye candy in my bed every weekend. I had a life most men dreamed of. But then my father decided to run for president, and my playboy lifestyle became a liability to his campaign that was built on family values. My “makeover” comes in the form of a fake fiancée who I don’t even get to choose–one who is an uptight, choirgirl acting priss but also sexy-as-hell.

Addison

My latest relationship had gone down in flames, and I was drowning in a sea of student loans when in true Godfather status, James Callahan made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Seven figures for seven months on the campaign trail pretending to be the adoring fiancée of his son, Barrett. As soon as he won the election, our engagement would be dissolved amicably for the press, I was free to ride off into the sunset a million dollars richer, and because of the NDA, no one would be the wiser. Sure, I’d never met the guy, but I’d been a theater nerd in high school. I could pull off any role from Lady Macbeth to Maria Von Trapp. But that was before I met my fake fiancé—the infuriating, self-absorbed, egotistical, drop-dead-sexy King of the Manwhores.

 

Read Chapter 1 & 2 on Wattpad HERE



About the Author

Katie Ashley is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon Best-Selling author. She lives outside of Atlanta, Georgia with her daughter, Olivia, and her two very spoiled dogs. She has a slight obsession with Pinterest, The Golden Girls, Harry Potter, Shakespeare, Supernatural, Designing Women, and Scooby-Doo.

With a BA in English, a BS in Secondary English Education, and a Masters in Adolescent English Education, she spent 11 1/2 years educating the Youth of America aka teaching MS and HS English until she left to write full time in December 2012.

 

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BLOG TOUR ~ The Vampire Mafia (The Complete Series) by MA Wilder

 
Title: The Vampire Mafia Complete Series
By: M.A. Wilder

Publication Date: January 1, 2017
Genre: Paranormal Romance
#thevampiremafiatour
 
 
Five deadly love stories.
And one dark saga. 
 

This is August, New York, where the chaotic world of the supernatural will collide with unsuspecting, vulnerable humans.

Trouble
Notorious criminal Mickey McKennan is everything Nora Evers shouldn’t want. He’s power and sex in a suit with a rogue smile, and when they meet, her world tilts as she falls in lust—until that world halts when tragedy strikes. Nora’s life quickly goes from bad to worse, and she finds Mickey at every turn. Although his deadly secrets ensure that trouble follows him, she is drawn to him more and more. But, when her past haunts her present, Nora’s life is threatened, and she is unsure of who she can count on to help her survive.

Beautiful
Everyone has a price, and thanks to the captivating Simon Handover and his proposition, Penny Ames has discovered hers. She will just need to make it through one month with him before she can flee and never look back. But, with his Clark Kent good looks and Superman swagger, Simon is more of a threat to Penny than she realizes. While fighting not to lose her heart, she stumbles into a world filled with guns, gangs, and…vampires, and soon, she finds herself also fighting for her life.

Collateral
When Sosie Savage is taken hostage by the Vampire Mafia due to her father’s mistake, the only thing on her mind is survival—until her focus begins to shift as her captors, the D’Avignon brothers, vie for her attention. Powerful yet antagonistic, J.M. and Sebastien fascinate her. Where J.M. is destructive and dangerous, Sebastien acts as the savior with his kindness. With her feelings clouding her mind, Sosie struggles to set things right in the tangled web her father weaved. But, after the D’Avignon family receives threats from rival vampires while enduring run-ins with the authorities, she begins to question her allegiance to her own family and the life that she once knew.

Vengeful
Kidnapped and tortured with no end in sight, Beau D’Avignon is certain death is imminent. That is, until Francesca Slight intervenes. Sheltered daughter of the D’Avignon’s sworn enemy, she is now also the owner of Beau’s heart. With the animosity between the leading vampire families, their newfound love is not likely to survive, especially when the escalating war threatens all their lives.

Frustrated with her father’s lack of action in the search for her missing family, Bellamy D’Avignon is determined to take the reins, but along the way, she crosses paths with someone from the opposite side of the law. He’s literally tall, dark, and handsome, and their connection is immediate and undeniable. But, when a life-altering threat hits and emotions take over, Bellamy makes a decision that will change their lives forever.

 
 


 

“What are you?” I whisper, fear shaking my body as well as my voice.

The man crouches down beside me, his gaze hungry, his movements cagey. “Don’t you mean, who?”
I shake my head and wince, knowing, deep down inside, that I got my question right the first time.
The stranger smiles, and it terrifies me. I can tell by the look on his face that my terror thrills him.
Then, he says one word and one word only, “Vampire.”And it changes everything.


M. A. Wilder is a wife, mother, and native New Yorker who writes in order to retain her title as a hipster. She is a stay-at-home mom by day and a crime fighter author by night. She is also rumored to be a full-time geek, a part-time fangirl, and an imaginary superhero.


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EXCERPT REVEAL ~ Affliction by Jenika Snow

 

 

Coming April 4th

 

 

 


It wasn’t until Cameron that I knew what real darkness was…or that I’d crave it so much.


I’ve let the world weigh down on me; pull me under until nothing makes sense anymore. Maybe that’s how I let myself get into the mess I’m currently in? Maybe that’s how I’m in my current situation with a man I knew could save me from a fate worse than death. Even if being with Cameron, giving him the very part of me, the only part that’s worth anything—my body—might very well ruin me, I have to survive.

Drug lord. Crime Boss. Murderer. I should fear him, be horrified by what he wants from me, by who he is. But instead, I find myself wanting to please him, wanting to give myself over completely.

Because I know that gives me control over him.

Cameron Ashton reins over the gritty underworld, the danger and violence of depravity, from his throne. A pistol is his sword, and apathy is his second-in-command. I know he’s dangerous, know he’ll break me and not think twice. But he’s my only chance, the only way I’ll survive.

        He’s possessive and controlling. And he does own me, every part of me. The darkness in him runs stronger, deeper than it ever had in me. Maybe we’re not so different? Maybe giving up my control to Cameron, giving him my very soul, makes me the powerful one?

Maybe, in the end, I’ll be the one who owns him.



Warning: This is a filthy, dark romance. There may be subject matter and triggers that are sensitive to some readers. In the end, this IS a romance, albeit a twisted one. If you’re looking for a story that gives you the warm and fuzzies, this is not the book for you.



Chapter One


The sweat running down the valley between my breasts was reminiscent of fingers moving along me. I was hot, my body flushed, my heart racing. Everything in me felt alive, ready to tear through my skin like another entity wanting to escape.

I was drunk, and I felt incredible.

The bodies pressed tightly against me, moving sexually, suggestively, made me feel even better. It made me feel alive. I moved with them, swaying to the music, inhaling the scent of sex and alcohol that seemed to surround me. I was sure a lot of people would be fucking tonight. No doubt it would be dirty, their inhibitions having been left at the club as they took home a random person. It would be the kind of sex that drunk people had, sloppy, carefree.

I wasn’t a good girl. I didn’t follow the rules. And my life was less than memorable. I lived like today was my last, because for all I knew it would be. It could be.

I came to this club when I couldn’t stand the box that was my life, the one that was sealed tight, no airholes, no light getting through the crack. I got wasted, danced until my body was covered with sweat, my muscles sore, and some poor, hard-up frat guy got off in his jeans by grinding against my leg. I was a wreck in many ways, and I had no doubt that people assumed I was slutty by the way I dressed, by the way I moved on the dance floor.

But how I dressed and acted didn’t make up who I was: a virgin who was lost, who had no one, nothing. I was an inexperienced woman who came here and danced because I wanted a little bit of release…the only kind I ever got. How I felt here was like being consumed by the water, of being helpless but weightless, of being sucked down to the very bottom where no light was permitted.

I wasn’t light. I was darkness wrapped up in a five-foot-five frame, with dark hair, a wild streak, and no one to stop me.

Maybe I was a contradiction to myself, a lost girl who didn’t know what she wanted in life. But it’s who I was, how I got through each day.

I embraced it, knowing that maybe my upbringing made me this way, that having an absentee mother, a drunk for a father, and a penchant for getting slapped on occasion by said parents had shaped the woman I now was.

I wasn’t broken, but I was damaged.

Or maybe it had nothing to do with my parents or what I didn’t have growing up: love. Maybe I was just born this way.

Either way I didn’t try and stop it. I didn’t try and change.

“You look good out here dancing, girl.” The feeling of a guy behind me, of his hands on my hips, his hard cock digging into my lower back, had dual sensations moving through me. “You feel good,” he said again, his voice thick, aroused, slurred from the no doubt many drinks he’d consumed. “What’s your name.”

I thought about lying, pretending I was someone else. Instead I said, “Sofia.”

The truth.

I wanted him to get off, because knowing I had that kind of control, that kind of power, fueled me. But on the other hand I felt disgust, mainly for myself. I felt and smelled his hot, liquor-laced breath along my neck. I shivered, and the way he groaned made me assume he thought it meant I was into this.

I wasn’t, but I didn’t stop from grinding on him.

I lifted my hands, closed my eyes, and just thought about something else. I wasn’t here, wasn’t trying to get this guy to come in his pants. I was far away, so distant that nothing could touch me. I was the one who had control, and that control made me feel free, alive.

“Come home with me. Hell, let’s go back to my car.”

I shook my head. He needed to shut up.

“Come on, girl.” He ground his dick against me again. He felt small, even though he was hard.

“No. Either shut up and dance with me, or go find someone willing to go home with you.” I didn’t even know if he heard me over the rush of the music, but if he said one more word, I’d just go get a drink.

He tightened his hold on my hips, digging his small dick into my back. “I bet you’re wet for me right now, aren’t you?” His breath was hot, humid. It was acidic and I gagged.

I was bone-dry, not even the teasing of arousal playing over me. I never felt anything when I danced with these guys. It was what made me feel free, made me feel powerful in an otherwise unstable world. I might not have any kind of control with my personal life, with my finances, with anything that could ground me, but at this club, where the drinks flowed, the sex was potent, and my power was immense…I was the one in charge.

I’d been called a dick tease, a bitch, whore, a cunt…any and all of the above. None of that mattered. They were verbal bullets, and in this club I wore my bulletproof vest.

I pushed away from the guy and made my way to the bar. He was either cursing me out or had hopefully moved on to someone more receptive to what he was actually after. But when I got to the bar, the people crammed together, shouting, lifting their hands to get one of the three bartenders to come their way. I decided tonight was done. I’d hit the bathroom, then call a cab.

Pushing my way through the throng of bodies, the air stale, humid, the heat suffocating, I said a silent prayer that the line to use the bathroom wasn’t up the ass. But there were still a few girls ahead of me. I leaned on the wall, resting my head back against it, and stared up. I noticed the video camera aimed right at me. There were several in this hallway, two in the back, one pointing at me, and another aimed at the dance floor.

I had no doubt there were a dozen more at other locations. Although this place was wild on most nights, it also had a reputation for being safe—well, as safe as a nightclub could be. It had just been renovated by the new owner over the last year, a man I’d heard rumors about, and one I never wanted to meet.

Dark and dangerous. Violent and psychotic. He’s not a person you want to meet in a dark alley. He’d just as soon slit your throat for looking at him the wrong way.

Rumors, of course, but it was those words, whispered by everyone and anyone, that told me there had to be a little bit of truth behind them.

I feel sorry for anyone who pisses off Cameron Ashton, because he’ll solve that problem with a shovel and a six-foot-deep hole.

Pushing off the wall when it was my turn inside, I used the facility, went over to the sink to wash my hands, and stared at myself in the mirror. The girl who stared back looked sad, and not in an emotional way. My reflection showed a hot mess. My eyeliner was starting to smear under my eyes, pieces of my dark hair stuck to my temples, and the lipstick I had on, once red and vibrant, now looked dead and colorless.

I finished in the restroom, pushed my way through the crowd, and finally opened the door that led outside. The cool night air washed over me, and I involuntarily closed my eyes, moaning softly. It felt good out here, the crush of bodies and heat a distant memory the longer I stood here.

The alcohol that had once numbed me, clouding my head with the nothingness, started to clear. Maybe I hadn’t been as drunk as I’d thought. Being behind those doors was like another world. The lights, music, the people trying to get off any way they could, brought you down low to a depraved, sticky and disgusting level. It’s what I loved.

I needed to get home now, had work in the morning, had to get back to my shitty life. I fished my cell out of the miniscule handbag I carried with me, dialed the cab service I had memorized, and told them the address. Coming here for the last year should have had them knowing me by name. As I waited for them to arrive, ten long fucking minutes, I moved away from the front doors and leaned against the wall off to the side.

I glanced up, the streetlight close by bright but not quite reaching me fully. Looking to my left, I noticed another security camera, this one pointed at the front doors. Never let it be said this place didn’t have their shit together.

The sound of a lighter going off to my right had me glancing over. I saw the flare of the flame, smelled the scent of the cigarette as its owner inhaled and then exhaled.

“Hey, girl.”

I exhaled. God, of course the guy from inside, the one with the small dick and the need for me to go home with him, would be out here. I didn’t bother replying, didn’t want to engage. Instead I turned my head in the other direction and glanced at a few people across the parking lot smoking. I felt the lightest touch on my arm.

The hell?

I glanced to my right, and before I knew what was happening, that light touch from the asshole turned into him pulling me farther into the shadowy side street.





Jenika Snow is a USA Today Bestselling Author that lives in the northwest with her husband and their two daughters. Before she started writing full-time she worked as a nurse.

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Ashwin (Gideon’s Riders #1) by Kit Rocha

Release Blitz

Ashwin
Gideon’s Riders #1
by Kit Rocha

Blurb

Lieutenant Ashwin Malhotra is a Makhai soldier—genetically engineered to be cold, ruthless. Unfeeling. His commanding officers consider him the perfect operative, and they’re right. Now, he has a simple mission: to infiltrate Gideon’s Riders, the infamous sect of holy warriors that protects the people of Sector One.

He’s never failed to execute an objective, but there’s one thing he didn’t anticipate—running into Dr. Kora Bellamy, the only woman to ever break through his icy exterior.

When Kora fled her life as a military doctor for the Makhai Project, all she wanted was peace—a quiet life where she could heal the sick and injured. The royal Rios family welcomed her like a sister, but she could never forget Ashwin. His sudden reappearance is a second chance—if she can manage to touch his heart.

When the simmering tension between them finally ignites, Kora doesn’t realize she’s playing with fire. Because she’s not just falling in love with a man who may not be able to love her back. Ashwin has too many secrets—and one of them could destroy her.

Buy Links

Amazon US,  Amazon UK,  B&N,  Google,  iBooks,  Kobo


Excerpts:

He moved slowly. Precisely. It was everything she’d ever known of Ashwin—his seriousness, his meticulous attention to detail—distilled into the gentle glide of his hands as they traced down her arms and over her sides.

He didn’t strip off her dress all at once. He took his time, gathering the soft blue fabric in his fists and coaxing it up inch by inch. It tickled over her skin, an unending caress that he dragged out until the breath she was holding escaped on a moan.

“I have a plan,” he murmured as the dress cleared her head, sending her tousled hair cascading around her face. Ashwin dropped the dress and smoothed the locks back from her cheeks, his fingertips lingering to caress the shell of her ear. “I formulated it when you came to me last night, but I’ve been revising and refining it all day.”

“All—” Her voice broke, and she swallowed—hard. “All day? Surely it’s not complicated enough to warrant that.”

“It’s not about being complicated.” He brushed glancing, maddening touches over her back and the line of her spine on his way to the clasp on her bra. One efficient twist of his fingers and the fabric went loose, one strap slipping from her shoulder. “It’s about being thorough. A man who wouldn’t be meticulous in devising the best way to give you pleasure is a man who doesn’t deserve to touch you.”

“Really?” Another moan built in her throat, and she released it on a shaky sigh. “I think figuring it all out should be part of the fun.” She touched his face, drawing a line from his cheekbone to the corner of his mouth, and smiled when he sucked in a breath. “See?”

Something dangerous burned in his eyes as he turned his head to nip at her fingers. It almost hurt, and the sensation zipped along her nerve endings like an electric shock.

She was trembling now, so she dropped her hand to his shoulder and pulled at the soft cotton of his shirt in silent demand.

He answered by lifting his arms.

Kora didn’t have his patience. She jerked at the fabric, and it caught on his chin and tangled around his arms. He helped her by stripping it away and letting it fall to the floor.

She’d seen him half naked more times than she could count. Most of their interactions had involved his partial nudity. It was different now that she was undressed, too, and that look in his eyes—

Kora slid her arms around him, traced the scratches she’d left on his shoulders the night before, then stepped back until her legs hit the edge of the mattress.

He followed her, looming over her for a dizzying moment before sinking to his knees. He smoothed his thumb over the edge of her simple black panties as his gaze drifted up to hers. “You’ve touched yourself before, haven’t you?”

The question surprised her—and it shouldn’t have. The fact that he wasn’t sure he could feel emotion had no bearing on his sexual experience. He’d mentioned other women, and he must have had domestic handlers.

He’d had sex before. Probably lots and lots of it. She was the inexperienced one here. “I have.”

“Show me.” He caught one of her hands and pressed it to her abdomen, her fingers spread wide beneath his. But instead of guiding her down, he slid their hands up. When she was cupping her breast, he let his touch fall away.

Her cheeks heated, but she didn’t look away as she squeezed her fingers together, pinching her nipple between them. She shivered at the sudden spike of pleasure, more intense because he was watching her so closely.

“You don’t mind it either, do you?” The sudden warmth of his breath on her abdomen kept her shivering. He soothed her with an open-mouthed kiss and the gentle brush of his tongue, so sweet she wasn’t ready for the sudden shock of his teeth closing on her skin. “A little bit of pain.”

Her voice failed her, so she shook her head.

“It’s all right.” He hooked his fingers under her panties and dragged them lower. His mouth followed, hot against her hip and so, so soft. “Sometimes pain is a warning. But like this, with someone you trust…” She anticipated the jolt this time, but she still swayed when his teeth sank into her skin. “It’s a different kind of sensation.”

Her knees would barely hold her. “Ashwin…”

************************

Excerpt #2 ~ story about the two princesses & Kora’s tattoo

Del circled Kora and trailed her fingers down her back. “Do you know the story of the Two Princesses, Kora?”

“Which two?” She grinned at Maricela to break the tension. “This sector is overrun with them.”

“The first two.” Del picked up her sketchpad and a charcoal pencil. “Maricela’s mother, Juana. And her aunt, Adriana.”

“Only what I picked up from the murals at the palace.”

Del’s hand moved quickly, the soft scratch of her pencil as hypnotic as the way her voice sank into an easy rhythm. “Adriana was a warrior. She fought for her people, killed for them if necessary. She fell in love with her bodyguard and challenged the Prophet himself for the right to marry him. In the paintings, she holds the heart of her people in her hands…but if the occasion called for it, Adriana could tear the heart out of an enemy’s chest. Her spine was pure steel.”

The scratching paused as Del glanced at Maricela, a smile curving her full lips. “But Juana was different. She married Adriana’s brother, the Prophet’s only son and heir. She and Adriana became sisters and friends. Juana had no gift for death, but there was nothing she touched that wouldn’t grow. No person she touched who wasn’t moved.” Del nudged Maricela with her foot. “No child she loved who didn’t thrive.”

Maricela nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Del went back to sketching. “Adriana’s spine was steel, but Juana’s was made of roses. And because men can be fools who only recognize one kind of strength, they underestimated her. When the wars came, Juana bent with the wind. She grew stronger and fiercer as she wrapped herself tight around the people she loved. She became a wall of thorns, and no one could touch the people she called hers without bleeding for their trouble.”

After a moment of silence, Del turned the sketchpad around. The bold design filled the page in a long vertical line—two sets of vines weaving in and around one another, with blooming flowers and tightly furled buds nestled between sharp thorns.

“I think you’re like Juana,” Del said, her voice still a husky murmur. “Your gift is life. There’s power in that.”

Kora’s fingers trembled as she reached out and touched the paper. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Del tore the paper free and handed it to her before moving to the table that held her tattooing equipment. “I don’t give the spine of roses often. Not many have a heart big enough to carry the burden.”

“Are you sure that I do?” The question slipped out, unbidden. There were few things in life that Kora had never second-guessed, and her care for others was the biggest. The most important. It had been more than a job, or even her life’s work. It had been a calling.

But now, she questioned everything.

“Of course I’m sure.” Del returned with a marker in her hand and tilted Kora’s chin up. “But that’s not enough for you, because you’re not a believer.”

Kora had tried to study Sector One’s concept of God. But he was nebulous, his message and character changing depending on the situation, on interpretation, even on the person writing or speaking about him. As a scientist, Kora couldn’t reconcile the wild variances, the seemingly human failings in a being who was supposed to be infallible.

But there were some things she understood without hesitation. “I believe in the Rios family, and in your abilities. If you say I deserve to wear Juana’s roses, I’ll wear them.”

Del didn’t release her chin. “You’ve looked into Ashwin’s eyes. Did you see nothingness staring back at you?”

She’d seen confusion, puzzlement. Anger. Terror. And, just once, a need so sharp that she ached to remember it. “No.”

“It takes a big heart to see past the death. I’ve always wondered what Juana would have seen in the eyes of the last Makhai soldier who came to One. Perhaps the same thing you see in Ashwin’s.” Del crouched down so they were on eye level. “And remember, Kora. There was nothing she touched that didn’t grow.”

The words played over and over in Kora’s mind as she settled into the seat Del indicated. She considered them as Del prepared her skin, as the dull buzz of the tattoo machine filled the room, even through the first angry pricks of the needle.

At one time, she would have believed Del without hesitation. If she was talking about healing, about work, then Kora would have had no doubts at all. But emotion was trickier. People were hard to predict.

A Makhai soldier? That was impossible.



The Series 

You can find out more about the series here, but for now,
here are the covers for the first three books in Gideon’s Riders! 



BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

I honestly didn’t think I’d love Sector 1 as much as Sector 4 but gods, after reading Ashwin, book #1 in the new Gideon’s Riders series, I can’t wait to get back there.

I was heartbroken for Ashwin at the end of Beyond Surrender but jeez, he came back full throttle!
He broke my heart a little more in ‘Ashwin’, this big Makhai Lieutenant with trust issues and pretty much no idea how to interact with others, especially the one woman who kept him off kilter, took all of his attention and who he’d raise hell for.

Kora surprised me, there was a lot more to her than I expected (though I should have known better when it comes to those Kit Rocha girls and their heroines!!)  Her feelings for and attraction to Ashwin were worn on her sleeve for all to see regardless of how well she thought she hid them!

I FLOVED Ashwin & Kora together and getting to see how different life was in Sector 1, meeting the Riders and Gideon’s associated family & friends made for really great reading.

Red hot attraction & passion, heart pounding action between the sheets (as well as other places!!), action, suspense, Riders that bring a sense of family and belonging along with an interesting supporting cast who I can’t wait to read more about, all added up to an excellent start to the new series, from one of my all time favourite writing duos…

5 thoroughly deserved stars. I can’t wait for Deacon’s story!

~ T xx


About the Author:
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 Kit Rocha is the pseudonym for co-writing team Donna Herren and Bree Bridges. After penning dozens of paranormal novels,
novellas and stories as Moira Rogers, they branched out into gritty, sexy dystopian romance.


The series has appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, and was honored with a 2013 RT Reviewer’s Choice award.


Find out more at their website, or sign up to be notified of their next release.


AUTHOR LINKS:

Website (Kit Rocha):
Website (Moira Rogers):
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Twitter (Bree):
Twitter (Donna):

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