Monthly Archives: February 2018

RELEASE BLITZ ~ More Than Love You (More Than Words #3) Shayla Black


I’m Noah Weston. For a decade, I’ve quarterbacked America’s most iconic football team and plowed my way through women. Now I’m transitioning from star player to retired jock—with a cloud of allegation hanging over my head. So I’m escaping to the private ocean-front paradise I bought for peace and quiet. What I get instead is stubborn, snarky, wild, lights-my-blood-on-fire Harlow Reed. Since she just left a relationship in a hugely viral way, she should be the last woman I’m seen with.

On second thought, we can help each other…

I need a steady, supportive “girlfriend” for the court of public opinion, not entanglements. Harlow is merely looking for nonstop sweaty sex and screaming orgasms that wring pleasure from her oh-so-luscious body. Three months—that’s how long it should take for us both to scratch this itch and leave our respective scandals behind. But the more I know this woman, the less I can picture my life without her. And when I’m forced to choose, I’ll realize I don’t merely want her in my bed or need her for a ruse. I more than love her enough to do whatever it takes to make her mine for good.


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More Than Want You, Book 1

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More Than Need You
(More Than Words, Book 2)

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Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than fifty novels. For nearly twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eight years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her teenage daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Love Over Lattes (Desert Monsoon #1) by Diana A. Hicks

 

 

 

 
 
Title: Love Over Lattes
Series: Desert Monsoon #1
Author: Diana A. Hicks

Publisher: Wild Rose Press
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 7, 2018
 
Blurb

Single mom Valentina wants to provide a good life for her son, starting with the perfect home. When the deal on her dream house falls through, rather than move back in with her parents and disappoint them and her son once again, she accepts the help of the intimidating-as-hell stranger she’s admired from her coffee shop seat for the last six months. She’s afraid to fall for the wrong guy again, so she makes Cole promise to keep their relationship strictly professional.
 
Following his failed marriage, Cole can’t find a reason to care about anything or anyone. Saving his company from his ex-wife is the only thing that has kept him afloat for the past six months. As loneliness sets in and he begins to lose the fight over his company, Valentina becomes his lifeline. Cole wants to be more than her landlord, and he has a plan to get her to release him from his promise.
 

 


 

 
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Trailer


Playlist

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Excerpt

The VIP of the VIP room in yet another section in the ginormous warehouse was smaller and more intimate than the last two. At the far end of the room, a violinist played an old tango I knew well, “Mano a Mano.” The sensual and melancholic melody added to the decadent setting of the place. Probably the reason Cole didn’t want to bring me here.
His tent was cozy, all done in white leather furnishings and infused with a faint scent of vanilla. Under the shimmer of the small chandelier overhead, my dress looked scarlet red. I swallowed and smoothed out the fabric around my waist. This was the worst place to tell him about his ex’s plans. I plumped myself on the sofa, and a few pillows dropped to the floor.
“Oh, sorry.” I bent to pick them up.
“Leave it.” Cole caught my hand. He unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and sat.
Out of habit, or cowardice, I inched over to my left to make room. He gave me a bright smile that said nice try. “Make up your mind, Valentina. I can’t take this any longer.”
A hot puddle of unrealized desire, I melted a little every time he said my name. I squeezed my legs together and scooted some more. This sofa wasn’t big enough for the two of us. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Do you want to kiss me or not?” He slid across the cushion, closing the space between us. “Ask me.”
I adjusted my weight on the seat. He tightened his hold on my fingers. God, even if I had wanted to flee, I didn’t think my legs would respond. Cocking his head, he rubbed his thumb across the inside of my wrist where my pulse was visible.
“I want you.” The words left my lips of their own accord. I had meant to say something else, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what.
“Close enough, sweetheart.” Cupping the nape of my neck, he took my mouth with a longing that sent a wave of adrenaline from my core to my toes. Heat pulsed between my thighs as the tip of his tongue teased mine. I leaned in and sucked gently. I might not get another chance to taste him.
He eased me back on the sofa, and I landed on a bed of soft and silky decorative pillows. A groan escaped his lips, making my nerves dissolve. Did he want me as much as I wanted him? The knowledge that he might fueled the daring side of me. My hand trembled as I slipped it inside his jacket and kneaded the hard muscles under his shirt. I pulled on it, my fingers itching to touch his skin.
  

 

 
 
 


 
Author Bio
 
Diana became an avid reader when she found her first romance novel tucked away in a corner of her high school library. The more books she read, the more she wanted to be a
writer. Diana has a Master’s degree in information systems and accountancy and for many years worked for a major Fortune 100 telecommunications company as an IT project manager (As one does when pursuing a career as a romance author.)
These days, when she’s not writing, Diana enjoys running half marathons, traveling, and indulging in the simple joys of life like wine and chocolate.
She lives in Atlanta and loves spending time with her two children and husband.
 
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COVER REVEAL ~ Maybe Don’t Wanna (The Simple Man #2) by Lani Lynn Vale

 
 

 

Title: Maybe Don’t Wanna

Series: The Simple Man #2

Author: Lani Lynn Vale

 

Genre: Romance Suspense
Release Date: May 4, 2018
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography

 

Peter Parker Penn.
 
Unlike the superhero his mother named him after, Parker is no good guy.
 
In fact, if there’s a picture in the dictionary under anti-hero, it’s his.
 
Parker’s spent his life trying to get back on the right side of the tracks, but each step he takes forward, he takes two more steps back.
 
To save one, he hurts others. To make this good, he turns that bad.
 
For appearances’ sake, he plays the part. He does what people expect him to do—mostly. And at the end of each day, he goes back to his lonely apartment and wishes he was a different person. One who could fix the things he’s broken.
 
Then Kayla Nash forces her way into his life, and the world as he knows it is irrevocably changed.
 
Everything he thinks he has right is wrong. And everything he thinks is wrong is oh, so right.
 
One thing leads to another, and suddenly he’s growing a conscience, and trying to prove to her that he’s as bad as everybody says he is.
 
Yet she won’t listen.
 
She’s convinced that she can save him.
 

Little does she know, Parker isn’t worth saving, and never will be.


 
 
 
 

 

 


 
 

 



I’m a married mother of three. My kids are all under 5, so I can assure you that they are a handful. I’ve been with my paramedic husband now for ten years, and we’ve produced three offspring that are nothing like us. I live in the greatest state in the world, Texas.



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RELEASE BLITZ ~ On Thin Ice by Piper Rayne

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On Thin Ice, an all-new hilarious and romantic addition to the
Bedroom Games Series of standalones from bestselling authors Piper Rayne is LIVE!

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The Winter Games have begun…

I’m the life of the party. A little loud and some buzz kills might say obnoxious, but if you’re around me I guarantee you’ll have a good time.

Unless your name is Demi Harrison.

If that’s the case, you’d act like I’m the devil incarnate and go out of your way to avoid me. Which makes zero sense because at the last Olympic Games I rocked her world.

Whatever though. I need to concentrate on winning gold anyway. I was at the top of the standings coming into the games, but since arriving in Korea I’ve lost my edge.

I was never one for superstitions, but I can’t deny that there’s only one difference between my previous medal winning games, and these ones—her.

I’ve pulled off amazing feats in the past, but getting Demi to agree to sleep with me throughout the games might require divine intervention.


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Read Today!

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Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/OnThineIce

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Start the Series of Standalones Today!

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About Piper Rayne:

Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two USA Today Bestselling authors for the price of one. You might be wondering if you know us? Maybe you’ll read our books and figure it out. Maybe you won’t. Does it really matter?

We aren’t trying to stamp ourselves with a top-secret label. We wanted to write without apology. We wanted to not be pigeon-holed into a specific type of story. Everyone has their favorite authors, right? And when you pick up their books, you expect something from them. Whether it’s an alpha male, heavy angst, a happily ever after, there’s something you are absolutely certain the book will contain. Heck, we’re readers, too, we get it!

All that, AND we thought it’d be a helluva lot more fun if we did this writing thing together!

What can we tell you about ourselves? We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We’re both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We’re both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes, quirky heroines that make us laugh, and lots of sexy times. Here’s hoping you do, too!

Connect with Piper Rayne:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PiperRayne/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorpiperrayne/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PiperRayneRocks

www.piperrayne.com


BEYOND SERIES REBRANDED COVER REVEAL ~ Beyond Ecstasy (Beyond #8) by Kit Rocha

    

Beyond Rebrand Blog Reveal

Beyond Ecstasy
by Kit Rocha

 

 

BREE’S COVER NOTES

I always thought Beyond Ecstasy would be one of the easiest covers to design, but this one took me the longest. Many of our heroines protect themselves by wearing masks, but it’s usually one mask, a distinct mask. Their mask.  Jeni, on the other hand, is like a master of disguise. She dons personas for the stage and discards them just as easily.

She’s comfortable in a sun dress on Hawk’s family’s farm—which was the first concept I tried. Farm equipment didn’t look sexy in the background, it turned out! But she’s also comfortable glammed up and lounging in fabulously lavish luxury. And since she and Hawk had a very intimate moment in such surroundings, that’s where I finally decided to place her. Sexy, sensual, glamorous…but with just a hint of vulnerability. Because her mask is about to come off.


BLURB

The O’Kanes have a reputation for working hard and playing harder—except for Hawk. He joined the gang with one goal: to ensure his family’s survival through the impending war with Eden. It’s been years since he had the luxury of wanting anything for himself. Now, he wants Jeni. From the first moment he saw her, he’s been obsessed with making her his. Not for a night—forever.

Jeni’s been lusting after the former smuggler for months, but he keeps shutting her down. She’s almost given up on getting him in her bed when he offers her the last thing she ever expected—a collar. Accepting it means belonging to him, body and soul. It’s a reckless gamble, but Jeni can’t resist the chance to slip under Hawk’s armor.

The only thing more shocking than the dark, dangerous pleasure they discover is how right it feels. But falling in love is even more reckless when forever is far from guaranteed. Because they aren’t just at war, they’re out of time—and every breath could be their last.


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EXCERPT:

Chapter One

Hawk couldn’t decide which would drive him crazy first—the shadows or the light.

The shadows, that was the easy answer. The sectors had been dark for a month now, driven back to the earliest days after the Flares. Back home in Six, things wouldn’t be so bad. The farms had always survived off wind and solar energy, and as powerful as Eden was, they couldn’t still the air or blot out the sun. But sectors like Four relied on whatever electricity they could borrow, beg, or steal from Eden’s grid. Blackouts had always been an infrequent annoyance.

Now they were a constant reality—and Sector Four was unraveling under the strain.

That was why Hawk was out for his fourth night in a row, patrolling the market square with Jasper. He could feel people watching them from behind closed doors and windows, from hidden alleys and sheltering walls. Watching and waiting. Calculating their chances of getting away with whatever trouble they’d been planning to start. Out of fear, or desperation, or just to relieve the unrelenting tension.

But all those stares couldn’t raise the hair on the back of his neck like glancing over his shoulder toward the city.

The darkness was awful, but the light posed the real danger. Hell, it was going to make them all crazy. Eden’s damn glowing walls, sparking with all the power they’d stolen from the sectors. Precious electricity twisted into a weapon and a warning and brazen, bragging psychological warfare.

During the day, you could almost ignore it. But when the sun dipped below the western hills, all anyone could see was Eden’s walls, lighting up the night in a silent reminder that everything had changed.

“Nothing.” Jas growled, a low noise in the back of his throat. “I hate the waiting.”

I hate the waiting. Words that summed up life in the sectors now, on every fucking level. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“The intel is good.” Jasper pulled a cigarette from his pocket, but he didn’t light it. “Two shops and someone’s house have been hit on this block in the last week.”

The intel might be good, but crime wasn’t simple anymore. Some people were stealing out of greed and need, but more and more had been starting shit just to start it. The wave of petty crime had dropped after the O’Kanes bumped up fight night to twice a week—an approved outlet for violence with a chance to make some money was math even an idiot could do—but the feeling was back, seething from the shadows, growing day by day.

If something didn’t happen soon, every damn night would have to be fight night.

Jas rubbed the spot between his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Let’s take a walk.”

Hawk nodded in agreement and fell into step next to Jas as he turned toward the city. Even this far away, an ache was already forming behind his eyes. He knew how many blocks they could walk before the ache blossomed into pain, and how many more before nausea joined the party.

No one could live this close to the wall anymore. Some of the shopkeepers who’d kept homes above their shops had been driven back after the first two weeks. A few stubbornly stayed—pale and drawn and increasingly sick from the constant exposure.

Hawk couldn’t understand how. When they cleared the last row of buildings, he could feel the damn thing in his bones, thrumming, itching, humming. It took all his self-control not to turn the fuck around and run for it.

But he couldn’t. Not until he and Jas had completed their most grisly task of the night.

The open space closest to the curving walls was strewn with abandoned carts and trash no one had bothered to pick up. No shadows lurked here—just eerie, unnatural illumination that made Hawk’s eyeballs itch and washed everything out into silver and blue.

Especially the dark form standing at the wall, his hands wrapped around a line of wire.

“Fuck,” Jasper muttered. “Motherfucker.”

Suicide-by-Eden. The newest threat facing the sectors, and the most hopeless.

Jas was already pushing through the carts, looking for something they could use to knock the body loose. They’d pry this poor bastard off the wall the way they’d done the ones before, but they couldn’t hide what was happening. The whispers would spread, and tomorrow would be a little worse than today.

People were giving up. Old-timers who’d lived through the first terrible years after the Flares, who couldn’t face doing it again. Their children, who’d grown up with the horror stories, with nightmares that only intensified in the telling.

The worst were the kids. Teenagers, really—adults by the rules that guided the sectors but still fucking children in the way that mattered. Too young to understand mortality and too fucking scared to fight, because they’d already spent all of their short lives fighting. If they had to drag another kid off the wall—

Jas came back with a board, and Hawk reached for it. “I’ll do it.”

The man hesitated only for a moment before handing over the plank of wood. “Careful, man.”

Hawk didn’t relish getting closer, but Jas couldn’t afford to take the risk at all. Too much rested on his shoulders—and Hawk sure as fuck wasn’t going back to the compound to face Noelle after letting her boyfriend fry himself. “I got it.”

He approached carefully, setting each foot down firmly to eliminate any chance of tripping. By the time he was within swinging distance, his teeth were vibrating. The low buzz filled his ears, and maybe that was a blessing.

There was nothing pretty about trying to knock a corpse off the wires that had electrocuted him.

The first swing didn’t budge the man. And it was a man—or had been. His clothes were as singed as his skin, burned black by the heat generated by the high current coursing through him. The sickly scent of roasted flesh filled Hawk’s nostrils, and he held his breath as he swung again. Harder.

This time, the blow managed to dislodge the dead man’s grip on the wires, and he tumbled to the cracked pavement in a heap.

Jasper closed his eyes with a low, pained noise, then dropped to a crouch beside the prone body. “Burial detail?” he asked hoarsely. “Who’s on it tonight?”

“Flash and the new kid. Tank.” Hawk joined him. “Do you recognize him?”

“No.” Jas looked up. “Seems like that would make it easier, doesn’t it?”

Nothing could make this easy. This moment—the horror of it, the fucking useless waste of it—it would always hurt. And it should.

But at least they didn’t have to go back to the compound and break the news to the dead guy’s friends. Not like last week, when they’d trudged home to face Tatiana. The woman they’d peeled off the wall that night had brought Tatiana lunch from her food cart every day for damn near five years.

Hawk might still end the evening drunk, but he wouldn’t be covered in someone else’s tears this time. Practically a banner fucking night—his most morbid thought yet. “I hope it never gets easy. I don’t want to think about what that would mean.”

“Truth.” Jas turned his head away from the wisps of smoke rising from the corpse and rose. “I worry about the effect this has on people.”

Hawk had spent enough time with Jas now to read between the lines. The man would never betray a weakness in the king and queen of Sector Four, but shit. You’d have to be a monster not to feel it, and while Dallas and Lex’s reputations could be plenty monstrous, Hawk knew they were both very, very human.

And, friend or not, Jas had to break this news to them every damn time.

There was nothing Hawk could say to make it better. No way to fix it. All he could do was toss the board aside and grab a ragged tarp from one of the carts to toss over the body. “I’ll find Tank and Flash. Get it taken care of.”

“No, I’ll handle it.” Jas punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You’ve been working hard. Have some fun tonight.”

Hawk huffed. “Fucking hypocrite.”

“Hey, it’s my load to bear, not yours.”

Easy words, but they were the reason Hawk had come to this sector. The reason he’d joined the O’Kanes, and the reason he had come to embrace them. For Jas, they weren’t just words. He meant them. The O’Kanes didn’t just believe in the pleasure that came with power. They believed in the responsibility, too.

For that, Hawk would follow them into hell. Maybe literally.

He squeezed Jas’s shoulder. “You sure? I got nowhere to be.” No one waiting for him, either.

“Hell, yeah.” Jasper jerked his head in the direction of the O’Kane compound. “Go. Crack open a bottle. We’re all gonna need it tonight.”

Hawk should have protested again, but an order was an order, and his churning gut and aching head were motivation enough. Dignity kept him out of a flat run, but he still made it through the market in record time, not slowing down until he reached the first row of tall apartment buildings and their reassuring shadows.

The darkness definitely wasn’t the enemy.

Neither was the silence. Noises teased at the edge of his senses—a slammed door, the scuffle of footsteps. Voices carried on the wind, too far away to reach him as more than a whisper. Hawk kept his hand close to his gun and pretended he wasn’t half-hoping someone would see a guy on his own as a tempting target.

It was two more nights until he’d have a chance at climbing into the cage. Two more nights of twisted up tension and anger and frustration with no damn outlet, because the only outlet he wanted—

No. No, he wouldn’t think of her like this, not while he smelled of death and dreamt of violence. He needed to purge the darkness first.

He needed a fucking drink.

That was what he told himself, anyway, when he swung right and headed for the entrance to the Broken Circle instead of the back gate that led to the living quarters.

Zan was guarding the door. He took one look at Hawk and cursed viciously. “Another one?”

So much for his poker face. “Yeah. Jas didn’t recognize him, but…”

Zan’s scowl deepened, then disappeared behind his hands as he scrubbed them over his face. “You headed inside?”

“I need a drink. Has it been crazy?”

“Different kind than usual.” Zan’s glower returned, full force. “Not real busy, but we’re having to keep four on the floor so the little shits’ll stay in line.”

Maybe he’d get his fight after all. Hawk slapped Zan on the shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“Swing by the kitchen,” Zan advised as he pushed open the door.

The music washed over Hawk as he stepped inside, the throbbing of the bass vibrating in his bones in different way than the electric pain of the wall. It dragged his gaze to the stage even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t look—

He didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved to see Trix up there, midway through her most popular act. Leather and steel and naked challenge—her movements were the O’Kane reputation distilled into a dance as potent as their whiskey.

The crowd was going wild. Cheering and hollering, leaning forward in anticipation that built with every teasing twist of her body. Hawk hesitated—not watching her, but the room itself. Bouncers bracketed the stage, a burly reminder not to get any ideas about appreciating the show up-close and personal.

Trix would be fine. If Hawk had had any doubts, he would have stayed. Not just because he owed it to Finn to look after his woman, but out of fondness for Trix herself.

Most of the time, he coped with the O’Kane women by treating them the way he would his sisters. With Trix, that came easy. She’d been to his home, had met his family. She was bound to Hawk’s oldest friend among the O’Kanes, the first one he’d called brother and meant it.

Affection would have prompted him to stay if she needed protection. And affection was the reason he booked it to the kitchen. This night was fucked up enough without watching a sister take her clothes off.

The kitchen was bright compared to the front room, light gleaming off steel counters and appliances. Somewhere beneath their feet, the finest collection of generators in the sectors were humming away, providing an oasis from the silent darkness of the rest of the sectors. Hawk suspected they could cancel the shows altogether and people would still show up, as much for the light and the sound as the liquor.

But the kitchen was quieter, the cheers and music muffled. Rachel sat on a stool at one high counter, a sharp knife in one hand and half a lemon in the other. “Hawk.” She gestured to him. “Have a seat.”

“Hey, Rachel.” He slid onto the stool next to her and eyed the lemon. She was only a few months pregnant, barely even showing yet, but the baby was definitely making its presence felt. “Queasy again?”

“Mmm.” She dropped another slice of lemon into the glass of water in front of her and lifted it. “This is the only thing that helps right now.”

No wonder Zan had sent him to the kitchen. Growing up on the farms in Six meant spending your life surrounded by women in various stages of pregnancy. But in a sector like Four, pregnant women were mysterious, dangerous creatures who suffered from inexplicable symptoms that sent the men—and women—around them into a panic.

Hawk honestly didn’t know how Amira had gotten through it without stabbing them all.

He edged the cutting board away from Rachel and picked up the knife. “You use ginger in your beer, don’t you?”

“In some of them. Why?”

“You should try that.” He gestured to the glass with the knife. “You can brew it into a tea. It helped my stepmothers and sisters.”

Rachel smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Hawk.”

Poor girl. Hawk kissed the top of her head. “I’ll show Cruz how to make it when he gets back in.”

“I think he’d like that.” She lifted her head. “Bad night?”

“Not the worst. Not the best, either.” He offered her a crooked smile. “We hiding any of the good stuff back here?”

She reached under the cabinet nearest her and pulled out a bottle half-full of rich, amber liquor. “Not the best,” she said, turning his words around on him. “But not the worst, either.”

“Perfect.” He grabbed a glass and let her pour out a triple, then raised it to her in silent salute. She clinked her glass of water against his, and they both took a sip. “Shit, not the best is still better than we had on the farm.”

“One of the perks of being an O’Kane.”

There were many, and only one of them had factored into Hawk’s determination to join. He’d been on a mission, with Dallas O’Kane square in his sights. Dallas hadn’t even been the general of a newly formed rebellion back then, just a sector leader with a barbaric reputation that clashed with his history of being calculated, clever, and dangerous as fuck.

Hawk had recognized power. It took intelligence and forethought to cultivate an image that made the O’Kanes’ enemies consistently underestimate them, even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. The drinking and fucking and partying were perks, but they were also part of the act—painting themselves as sinners fighting just hard enough to indulge their lusts in luxury.

Rachel was watching him. “Everyone thinks this is what it’s about—all the booze you can drink, and all the hell you can raise. That, or the sex. But there’s something to be said for comfort, you know? For not having to be alone with your thoughts after a hard day.”

He swirled the liquor around his glass and tried to find the words. That was what she wanted—for him to unburden himself, to fall into the easy rhythm of chatter and sharing that seemed to come naturally to everyone else.

He could talk about ginger tea. About his sisters’ new farm, or cars, or the business of keeping the sector running. Facts and knowledge, clean and simple. Small talk. But Rachel wanted more.

What else was he supposed to do? Tell a pregnant woman about the corpse he’d just pried off the walls, walls that surrounded a city that might attack them at any second? Tell her about the smell of it, so stark and pungent that even the lemon and whiskey couldn’t overcome it?

Tell her about the fear in their guts every time they faced another suicide, wondering if this time they’d turn the body over and find what was left of a familiar face?

He snorted and took another sip. “Some thoughts are too damn bleak to share.”

“And some are too bleak to keep to yourself.” The lights overhead flickered, and her fingers tightened on her glass. “We’re in a stressful spot here, Hawk. It’s bad enough even if you do let yourself deal with it. But if you lock it away…”

“I know.” He rubbed the edge of his glass. “It’s dark out there, Rachel. And we all thought we were good at that, living in the dark. But this isn’t the same.”

She brushed his hand, a light touch that lasted for only a moment. “Just remember that you don’t have to be alone, okay?”

“I’m not alone.” The truth wrapped around a lie, because there were so many ways to be lonely, and Rachel could say it wasn’t about booze and sex, but it wasn’t that simple. Not when you were an O’Kane.

Rachel sighed. “You don’t do subtle, do you, Hawk?”

No, he really didn’t. Especially not the way these O’Kane women did, issuing invitations and propositions with their smiles and their soft touches—not that he thought Rachel was coming on to him. But there’d been another poured drink, another soft touch—

Don’t think about her. Not now.

Because telling yourself not to think about someone worked really damn well. Hawk finished his drink, reached for the bottle, and tried to prove Rachel wrong. “Jeni’s not dancing tonight?”

Surprise and a little rueful amusement flashed in Rachel’s eyes. “She’s upstairs, working on something new.”

Hawk turned the knowledge over as he splashed more liquor into his glass. Jeni, upstairs. Alone, maybe, working on a new dance. Sweat glistening on her skin, her breath coming short and fast, her body loose and supple.

Practice meant Jeni. Not the wigs and costumes and makeup that turned her into any of a dozen characters she used to work the stage or the bar, but the woman he glimpsed in quiet moments.

Beautiful. Fearless. Sad.

He could go upstairs. Bring the bottle with him, smile at her. He knew shit-all about romance and women, but he knew know how good fucking could be. Fast and hot enough to burn through all the tension tying him up, better than a thousand fight nights.

And then it would be over. Jeni would leave, because that was how the O’Kanes worked. Friendly. Casual. Easy.

Until someone else smiled at Jeni at the next party, and Hawk was overwhelmed by the unacceptable urge to punch their damn teeth in.

O’Kanes definitely didn’t do jealousy.

Rachel was still watching him, her rueful amusement melting into a smile. So he headed her off. “Don’t get any ideas. I got a couple dozen sisters, Rachel. I know that look.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she denied. “I was just saying that a little company never hurts. And,” she added, talking over his half-hearted protest, “that it doesn’t have to be about sex. There are hundreds of ways to reach out to someone, and that’s just truth.”

“I know,” he grumbled. And because he did have a couple dozen sisters, he knew he had to do one thing—change the damn subject. “That’s why I’m in here, drinking with you.”

Her smile turned into a grin, and she lifted her glass of water again. “To friends.”

“To friends,” he echoed, knocking their glasses together. Tonight, he would avoid Jeni and track down Cruz instead. Every discomfort Rachel suffered put the poor bastard on high alert, and Hawk could sympathize with his feeling of helplessness.

Brewing ginger tea might not seem like the best use of an elite soldier’s time, but feeling like he’d helped would soothe Cruz, which would soothe Rachel and Ace. Not a bad exchange for a little cup of tea.

And maybe with Ace in a good mood, Hawk could ask him a few questions. Casual. Easy. Just two O’Kanes, making small talk about life and fucking and all the ways they intersected in Sector Four.

If he could just figure out the right damn questions, someone might give him the answers that ended with Jeni in his bed for more than one night.


(Note: if you like your books to match and are worried, don’t be!
You’ll still be able to get the old covers in print at online retailers.)



Follow this link to KR’s website where you can view all of the new covers revealed so far…



Right now, book #1 in the series is free!!

 

All Noelle Cunningham has ever wanted was a life beyond–beyond her stifling role as a prim and proper councilman’s daughter, and beyond the walls of the patriarchal city of Eden, the only remnants of safety in a world destroyed by solar storms decades earlier. But when she’s banished for violating the prohibition against immorality, she’s unprepared for the lawless world outside the city’s walls.

The sectors surrounding Eden house those abandoned to fend for themselves–men like Jasper McCray, bootlegger and cage fighter. Jas clawed his way up from nothing to stand at the right hand of Sector Four’s ruthless leader, and he’ll defend the O’Kane gang with his life. But fighting hasn’t prepared him for dealing with a sheltered City princess who falls at his feet.

Her innocence is undeniable, but so is her intense sexual curiosity. Soon they’re exploring every dark fantasy she’s ever been ashamed to have. But if Noelle wants to claim her place with the O’Kanes and at Jas’s side, she’ll have to find the courage to embrace something even more terrifying than her own desires.

Her own power.


Get the Ebook

 

Get the Print Book

 

Audio Version


Below you can find the absolute in-chronological-order reading order for all of the books, novellas and stories set in and around Eden and the Sectors. The KR gals do their best to make it so you can read the novels in order without missing anything if you skip the novellas and stories, but for those of you who like to read it all, in order…here you go!

Beyond Shame (novel)

Beyond Control (novel)

Beyond Denial (outtake)

Beyond Pain (novel)

Beyond Temptation (novella)

Beyond Jealousy (novel)

Beyond Solitude (novella)

Beyond Addiction (novel)

Beyond Possession (novella)

Beyond Innocence (novel)

Closed Doors (short story)

Blank Canvas (short story)

Beyond Ruin (novel)

Beyond Ecstasy (novel)

Beyond Surrender (novel)

Creative Incentives (short story)

Ashwin (novel)

Beyond Doubt (novella)

Deacon (novel)

Cravings (short story)

Beyond Forever (novella)



ABOUT THE AUTHOR
10346621_246084782249781_2764953186025781190_n

 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):
Facebook:
Facebook Group:


Twitter (Announcements):

Twitter (Bree):
Twitter (Donna):

Merchandise


 

RELEASE BLITZ ~ Devastate by Pam Godwin

It’s LIVE!

Devastate, Book #4 in the Deliver Series

Amazon | Other Retailers | Goodreads

“What is the price you’re willing to pay?”
“Money isn’t an issue.”
“I’m not talking about money.”

Tate is on the hunt to find his best friend’s sister.
Eleven years ago, Lucia Dias was abducted. Presumed dead. He never met her, so why does he care?
Some might call his efforts noble, but his motivation is more perverse, bordering on obsession.

When he follows a chilling lead to Venezuela’s Kidnap Alley, what he finds is neither a corpse nor a captive.

Amid poisonous lies and crippling depravity, the price of love is devastation.
And he pays.
With his body, his blood, and her life.



Deliver, Book #1

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His name was Joshua Carter. Now it’s whatever she wants it to be.

She is a Deliverer.

She lures young men and delivers them to be sold. She delivers the strikes that enforce their obedience. She delivers the sexual training that determines their purchase price.

As long as she delivers, the arrangement that protects her family will hold.

Delivering is all she knows.

The one thing she can’t deliver is a captive from slavery.

Until him.

And her stubborn slave thinks he can deliver her…from herself.


Vanquish, Book #2

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Her life is like a prison cell.
A self-made, to-hell-with-the-free-world existence that locks from the inside.
Stop judging. Her agoraphobia doesn’t define her. It simply keeps her safe.


He belongs in a prison cell.

The 6×8, make-me-your-bitch variety that locks from the outside.
But he’s free. To hunt. To take. To break.
And he just found a sexy new toy.


Capturing her is the easy part. Her fucked-up mind, however, makes him question everything he does next.

But he’s a determined bastard. If all goes his way, this will hurt like hell.


Disclaim, Book #3

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Camila was seventeen when Van Quiso kidnapped her. Ten years after her escape, the shackles refuse to release her. Not while there are still slave traders preying on her city.
She will stop at nothing to end them.
Even if that means becoming a slave again.

Returning to chains is her worst fear—and only option. They won’t know who she is or what she intends to do. She’s prepared for every complication.
Except him.
The one who decimated her sixteen-year-old heart.

Matias is charming, gorgeous, and dangerously seductive. He’s also untrustworthy and enshrouded in secrets. After years of no contact, he finds her—on her knees, wrists bound, in the clutches of her enemy.
Will he sabotage her mission by needlessly saving her?
Or will he keep her in chains and never let her go?


Pam Godwin

Pam Godwin Books GrayScale


New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Pam Godwin, lives in the Midwest with her husband, their two children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away, she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band.
.

Java, tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be considered more unhealthy than her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls with blinking eyes.
 

Books by Pam Godwin

Tangled Lies Series
ONE IS A PROMISE (#1) – FREE
TWO IS A LIE (#2)
THREE IS A WAR (#3)

Deliver Series
DELIVER (#1) – FREE
VANQUISH (#2)
DISCLAIM (#3)

Trilogy of Eve
HEART OF EVE – FREE
DEAD OF EVE (#1)
BLOOD OF EVE (#2)
DAWN OF EVE (#3)

Stand-alones
DARK NOTES
BENEATH THE BURN
DIRTY TIES
INCENTIVE


SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ That Killer Smile (Bite Nights, #3) by Juliet Lyons

   

Title: That Killer Smile
Series: Bite Nights, #3

Author: Juliet Lyons

 

That Killer Smile (Bite Nights) by [Lyons, Juliet]

Pub Date: February 6, 2018

 

THERE WILL BE HEAT…

Vampire Catherine Adair gave up trying to find her perfect match ages ago. But that didn’t stop her from founding London’s super successful vampire dating site. When a smoldering vampire overlord from her past launches an interspecies speed-dating service, Catherine vows to crush the competition…. 

WHEN THESE TWO COMPETE

Ronin’s new venture is purely about getting Catherine’s attention. He hasn’t stopped thinking about her ever since the night she gave him the cold shoulder. Nobody gets away from Ronin McDermott that easily…

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks


Praise for the Bite Nights series…

“Combines the familiar with the new to bring a fresh spin on the vampire romance.” – Kirkus

-A madcap adventure of biting humor, steamy chemistry, eclectic characters and some over-the-top antics. A strong and personable heroine delights as she navigates her way through the treacherous waters of online dating.- RT Book Reviews

-Charming and racy romance meets rousing mystery . . . relatable characters and a well-crafted setting make this a promising start to an intriguing series. – Publishers Weekly
 

“Lyons delivers with hot and heavy scenes that take the sexy vampire trope to an all new level.” – Booklist

“If you’re looking for a story both light and sexy, this may just be the one for you.” – Heroes and Heartbreakers

“Guaranteed to keep you reading well into the night.” – BookPage


 

Excerpts

#1

Cat

My first thought when I see the smashed lock is, How on earth did a burglar make it past Mrs. Colangelo?

I shove the door open and step inside. There, sitting—no lounging—in my Laura Ashley recliner and stroking Wentworth, is Ronin fuck weasel McDermott.

My eyes bulge as I absorb the preposterous scene of him sitting with my pet in his lap. He looks like an infuriatingly hot James Bond villain.

“Evening, Catherine,” he says with a nod of his head.

I glare into his intense blue eyes, fists clenching. “What the actual fuck are you doing in my apartment?”

He cocks a brow before rising from the chair, taking Wentworth with him. The latter stays snuggled under his arm, as docile as a newborn lamb.

Pointing at Wentworth, I hiss, “Did you glamour my cat?”

A cloud of confusion passes across his handsome features. “Why on God’s earth would I glamour a cat?”

Without missing a beat, I snap, “That’s what you do to get people to like you.”

He feigns an injured look before setting Wentworth down on the carpet. Then he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a tiny object. It twinkles beneath the light. “You dropped this earring in my office. It must have fallen out when you kissed me.”

I snort in derision. “Ha! Yeah, I kissed you. Good one. And you came all the way here, broke in to my apartment just to return it to me?”

“I’ll get the lock fixed,” he says, placing the earring on the coffee table. “And I didn’t break in as such. One of your neighbors let me up.”

I shake my head. “Let me guess, an Italian lady in a robe?”

He smiles and I try not to notice how it softens the hard lines of his strong features, how his cool-blue eyes are suffused with warmth.

“There’s a chance she believes lover boy next door is bisexual.”

“What the hell did you tell her?” I ask, folding arms across my chest. The mention of Peter comes as a shock. Being in the same room as Ronin McDermott, I’ve already forgotten he exists.

“Nothing she didn’t secretly long to hear. So who is this guy anyway? Should I be jealous?”

My stomach flips, my mind skipping back to that moment in his office when I left him with a hard-on in the presence of Playboy bunnies. “Jealous?” I try to inject venom into my voice, but my heart isn’t in it. “Tell me, did you enjoy yourself with those girls the other afternoon?”

His brows knit. He looks genuinely flummoxed. “What girls?”

I toss my bag onto the sofa. “Meant that much to you, did they?”

He stays frozen to the spot, brows drawn. “Do you really think I care about other girls?”

His voice is low, as cracked as splintered glass. Suddenly, it seems as if all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. As I meet his burning gaze, it’s like the last couple of days—work, my date with Peter—never happened. I’m back in his office right before his lips landed on mine.

Except this time neither of us budge.

“You’re a sickness,” he says at last in that same fractured tone. “Don’t you see? A sickness in my veins.”

My brain sifts through responses at a hundred miles per hour, but my vocal chords remain frozen in my throat. I watch him like he’s a tiger, waiting for him to strike.

But he doesn’t pounce. He sighs instead, his jaw tightly clenched. “I’ve never wanted to upset you, Catherine. I’m sorry for what I did that night—biting you and giving you my venom. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” I snap.

“I’ll be honest,” he continues. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t start the speed-dating nights to get your attention. But I had no intention of ruining your business. In a way, it’s a compliment.”

My jaw drops in disbelief. “A compliment? Are you completely unhinged? Do you really have your head shoved so far up your ass that you don’t get why I can’t stand you?”

He shakes his head, holding out his hands, palms up. There’s desperation in his voice I’ve never heard from him before. “I’ve never once tried to play the ancient card with you. I never will, no matter how badly you piss me off.”

I stare at him, half believing he doesn’t have a clue, half-angry this is just another of his manipulative games.

“This isn’t about details. It’s about the bigger picture. One you’ve never bothered to try and get your arrogant head around. Who am I, Ronin?” The happiness the evening brought is leaking out of me faster than air from a burst balloon. To my horror, a sob escapes my throat. “What am I?”

“Is this one of those bizarre feminist questions?”

“For fucks sake, what am I? Answer me.”

His eyes flash in anger, but he doesn’t flinch. “A woman. A vampire. A neurotic shrew half the time.”

“A vampire,” I repeat, ignoring the last bit.

He looks utterly and completely blank.

“You have no idea. Do you?”

When he doesn’t answer, I open the busted door as wide as it will go and wave an arm toward it. “Goodbye, Ronin.”

If he wasn’t such a misogynistic playboy, I might experience a pang of guilt as I watch him skulk past me, defeated.

Outside he pauses, spinning around to face me. “I rang you,” he says. “Every day for a month after we slept together.”

“I know,” I whisper, staring at my Dolce & Gabbana boots. “I changed my telephone number on day three.”

He emits a short, hollow laugh, and when I look up, the hallway is completely empty. I hear the slam of a door as he exits the building onto the street.

 

#2

For a few seconds, I’m lost for words. But as I stare between the bag on the floor and Ronin’s chiseled face, it all becomes clear.

“This is about you wanting me to owe you, isn’t it?” I hiss, fixing my gaze on his left ear. It’s a trick I learned from the last time we met. If I don’t look directly into his eyes, there’s less chance of being drawn into their swirling, blue depths.

He smiles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

“Pfffft,” I erupt. “I’m unbelievable? I’m not the one trying to tank my business by spreading rumors and launching a dating service. I’m not the one going out of his way to ensure our paths keep crossing in the worst possible ways.”

He frowns, displaying the first sign of irritation since I crashed into the room. “I’ve already told you, mo chridhe, it wasn’t me who started those rumors. And as for the speed dating, well, it was a free country last time I checked. I’m offering you the cash because the fella was injured in my club. Which means technically he’s my responsibility. If you don’t take the money now, I’ll have someone deliver it to his lawyer’s office later. I have their address now, after all.”

He waves the letter in the air like a victory flag.

“I’ll call them up,” I blurt out, voice quavering. “I’ll tell them you’re a madman and not to accept it. I’ll say it’s not your money at all, that you conned the life savings from some poor old man with dementia.”

Ronin arches a brow, tucking the letter into an inside pocket of his jacket. “That’s some novel you’re writing there, Catherine, but I doubt they would argue if I write them a Coutts check, do you?”

I’m all out of ammunition. “I loathe you.”

For a split second, his cocksureness wavers, the steely-blue eyes darkening. But only for a moment. “The problem isn’t me, Catherine,” he says, edging closer. “The problem is you.”

I straighten up. “That’s the most irritating thing about you, Ronin—you always think you know better than everybody else. I’m not sure whether it’s because you’ve been around longer than the rest of us or because you’re just a massive asshole. Either way, you don’t know the first thing about me.”

He flashes a cocky grin, raking his gaze over me as if he has X-ray vision. “You don’t loathe me, mo chridhe. You just can’t get over the fact you’re an uptight puritan who loved the kind of sex I gave you that night we spent together.”

I let out a high-pitched laugh. “That’s right, Ronin. Let’s not forget for one second that the world revolves around you and your penis. Actually, I’m surprised you’re even bothering to get dressed these days. I would have thought you’d have developed a penchant for silky, red pajamas and slippers by now.” I motion to the cigar on the carpet. “Looks like you’ve nailed the smoking part, and God knows the Playboy bunnies must be hiding around here somewhere.”

He scoffs. “Jealous?”

“Please, you’re not that good in bed.”

Except he is—or was. Better than good. But I can’t think about that right now. Or ever again, actually.

“Paulo was right about you,” he murmurs. “You are a mad bitch.”

I close the distance between us in a single stride and smack him across the cheek. It’s like hitting stone. He doesn’t so much as flinch. For some bizarre reason, this ignites a hot stab of lust in the pit of my stomach. His scent—a masculine blend of whiskey, leather, and woodsmoke—infiltrates my senses. I’m transported back to that night some years ago when we went at it like two wildcats in his bed.

I never wanted to come up for air.

I’m standing too close to use the ear trick. His eyes drag me in, two penetrating blue flames, dark with anger. I gulp, allowing my gaze to wander over his chiseled-from-rock cheekbones, rosy Celtic skin, copper hair slicked back from a noble forehead. He may be an asshole, but there is no denying his beauty.

For what feels like an eternity, neither of us move. We remain locked onto each other, energy—good and bad—swirling between us like thick fog.

Quite without thinking, I hiss, “Fucker.” After spending my human life afraid to speak, I never managed to rewire the connection between my brain and mouth.

His blue eyes flash. At once, his lips are on mine and his arms are around my waist. Instead of struggling, I mold myself into the hard contours of his body, my tongue sliding over his, my hands pulling him closer, and I hate myself—Lord, how I despise myself—for how good it feels. It’s as though he brings a magnifying glass up to all the base urges I long to forget, including this—an utterly ridiculous sexual attraction to a demon playboy who’s murdered God knows how many during his thousands of years on earth.

I don’t pull away. I can’t. He absorbs me like a drug. Before I can help myself, my fingers are tangled in his thick, red hair and I’m allowing his hands to cup my ass, grinding against the hard rope of an erection bulging beneath his trousers. We devour each other, eyes and mouths open, until I’m no longer sure where he begins and I end.

But then he takes his mouth from mine, trailing kisses from jawline to neck. Along with the rasp of stubble, I feel a scrape of fangs, sharp as knives, glide across my skin. I shove him away, panting slightly, averting my eyes to the lacquered walnut desk in the center of the room. If I don’t stop this now, I’ll end up sprawled across that table just like all the other women he’s had in here. The worst part is, I’d enjoy it.

“Consider the debt paid,” I say.



Other books in the series

 


Silver Harris is over clingy men-maybe men altogether. But when she shares a toe-curling kiss with a sexy Irish vampire on New Year’s Eve, she wonders if maybe it’s human men she’s done with. Silver turns to a popular vampire dating site, but soon she’s in over her head and her mysterious hottie is nowhere to be found…

Logan Byrne can’t get that sassy redhead out of his mind-or that kiss! When his boss assigns him to spy on the dating site’s members, he meets Silver again. As the snark and sparks fly, feelings between Silver and Logan grow deep and suddenly Logan isn’t so sure he can betray her, no matter how dangerous the consequences might be…

AMAZON.COM
AMAZON UK

Swipe right for Mr. Bite…

Mila Hart’s first experience with the hot new vampire dating site is a complete disaster. Turns out, her date is wanted for murder!
But things turn around when she’s rescued by dashing vampire cop Vincent Ferrer.
Dangerous and drop dead gorgeous, he’s just the vampire hottie Mila was hoping for.

Haunted by his past, Vincent can’t risk falling in love again, even if Mila charms him more than anyone he’s ever met.
But when the killer from Mila’s first date seeks her out, Vincent is the only one who can protect her.
Protecting his heart is a different story…

AMAZON.COM
AMAZON UK



Giveaway

Enter to win a copy of the first book in Juliet Lyons’ Bite Nights series, Dating the Undead

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About the Author

JULIET LYONS is a paranormal romance author from the UK. She holds a degree in Spanish and Latin American studies and works part-time in a local primary school where she spends far too much time discussing Harry Potter.
Since joining global storytelling site Wattpad in 2014, her work has received millions of hits online and gained a legion of fans from all over the world. When she is not writing, Juliet enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

 

Find Juliet Online:

Website: 

Facebook: 

Twitter: 

Wattpad: 

Goodreads: 



 

 

SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ The Last Wolf (The Legend of All Wolves #1) by Maria Vale

 

Title: The Last Wolf
Series: The Legend of All Wolves #1
Author: Maria Vale

Pub Date: February 6, 2018
ISBN: 9781492661870

For three days out of thirty, when the moon is full and her law is iron, the Great North Pack must be wild.


If she returns to her Pack, the stranger will die.

But if she stays…

Silver Nilsdottir is at the bottom of her Pack’s social order, with little chance for a decent mate and a better life. Until the day a stranger stumbles into their territory, wounded and beaten, and Silver decides to risk everything on Tiberius Leveraux. But Tiberius isn’t all he seems, and in the fragile balance of the Pack and wild, he may tip the destiny of all wolves…

 

Buy Links:

Amazon | Books-A-Million | Barnes & Noble | Chapters | iBooks | Indiebound


LETTER TO THE READER

Dear (Potential) Reader,

There is so much vying for your attention, I’m grateful you’ve read even this far.

I know I’m asking a lot from you.

I’m asking you to take time with a new writer when there are so many great ones already out there.

I’m asking you to take a chance on a new direction in a well-loved genre, in which the wolf is not a vicious beast to be subjugated and feared, but rather the human form is a useful tool for protecting the wilder self.

In this reworking, werewolves fall into two categories: Pack, who must be wolves for three days out of every thirty—self-aware wolves, but not magic, any bullet can kill them. And Shifters, who don’t have to change and so remain human, the apex predator, rather than wolf, the maligned and despised outsider.

Still like any romance, its foundation is in the growing love between two characters: the worldly half-Shifter Tiberius who hates the wolf inside him as bestial and monstrous. And the unworldly Silver, who is fully Pack and believes her wild self to be sacred.

Silver is a runt with a displaced hip when she is a wolf and in a society that determines position by fighting wild, this means she is at the bottom of the hierarchy—the last wolf.  Tiberius, however, discovers real strength in her perseverance and fierceness. For her part, Silver recognizes something about him: that by denying his wild, Tiberius has sown the roots of despair.

But this is not only a love story between two people, it’s also a love story about the Great North Pack, because despite our fascination with lone wolves, it is the pack that really defines this most social of all animals.

I imagined the Great North as something beyond family or community, something tight-knit and loving and brave and frightened. And intensely vulnerable. I imagined, like most embattled societies, the pack would be very conservative, with a traditional culture, a history, a language that was part of its identity. I chose to base that culture loosely (very loosely) on the world of 9th century England, partly because I love the sound of the language of Beowulf. To me, it is gruff and beautiful and haunting, like a wolf’s howl. But also because 9th century England was a place of great insecurity. One never knew when Northmen might show up and destroy everything you loved.

It was the Great North’s first Alpha, Ælfrida, who forced her pack to change. With humans decimating the forests of England, she dragged her pack from the Old World to the vast forests of northern New York, she re-wrote laws in order to allow new wolves to join their bloodlines, she forced her wolves to leave their isolated territories, so that they could learn human ways and protect the Pack using human law.

What results is a society that is both human and decidedly not, both harsh and loving, severe and tender.  The way I imagined wolves fighting daily for their lives would be.

I have loved every minute of researching and writing these books. I can only hope that you will enjoy reading them.

Stay wild,

Maria



EXCERPT

The day of the first waxing crescent of fall is when all of the wolves who live on the Homelands traditionally run the perimeter and make sure that our land is properly marked before the ground freezes and damaged posts become hard to replace.

The entire Pack is wild. Barking and wagging tails, they lick each other and jump around each other, their ferocious jaws open and gentle. They chase mice through windrows, their hind legs scratching leaves into a brightly colored explosion high in the air, so that the pups can twist and turn and catch them in snapping teeth as they spiral down.

Not me. I have to pull on heavy muck boots over thick socks with jeans shoved inside. And I won’t mark our territory the way wolves are supposed to. I will mark it on an iPhone 6 Plus, crammed into the big pocket of a thick orange vest. All because Ti refuses to phase and John doesn’t like it.

“He tells himself he’s human,” John says. “But if he lies to himself, what makes you think he’s not going to lie to us?”

So because I am Ti’s schildere, I have to stay in skin too. Keep an eye on him.

“I mean, what were you thinking?” I ask as Ti fits the Outlast cap over his clipped skull. “When you came to a bunch of wolves asking for protection. That you’d just keep on being a human? Was that your grand plan?”

“I didn’t have a grand plan. What I had was a hole in my stomach, a vague set of directions to my mother’s pack, and a need to survive. I changed long enough to fight; I never thought you’d be asking me to give up my humanity.”

“No one’s asking you to give up your humanity, but if you refuse to admit what you are, it is going to rise up and bite you in the ass.”

“Well, how about you?”

Me? I love changing. I—”

“I know you love changing. You do it all the time. The second Sten doesn’t need your thumbs, you evaporate, and there’s nothing left but clothes hanging from a branch. I may be a crappy wolf. But you… You’re a crappy human.”

I cringe, because he’s right. I’ve never been happy in skin, but then those stupid fire fairies burrowed into my body all those days ago, and that spark has caught fire and burns so fierce that now when I walk beside him and hear his quiet, low voice or look into those gold-flecked black eyes, my tendons strain and my muscles coil and my lungs open up and my blood beats hot and fast. The only way I know how to deal with need is to run hard and far until I collapse, unable to feel anything at all.

A brindle pup barks worriedly at my feet. All of the other wolves have disappeared, fading like a whisper in the woods.

“I know, Leelee. We’re coming.”

“She’s going with us?” Ti asks.

“We’re supposed to take her along. Help her learn the farther reaches of the Homelands.” Leelee scampers on ahead, leaping awkwardly over a huge downed log and sliding down the other side, her fur covered in the sooty brown decay.

Ti clears it in one stride and stands close, not helping me exactly, but I know if I falter, his big shoulder is there for me to grab on to. I make it by myself, but I appreciate his silent gesture.

Leelee watches, her head cocked to the side, as I take a running jump over one of the numerous small, mucky streams that crisscross our land. I slip down the other side, my foot sinking into a soft bruise in the moss. She yips and worries, waiting for me to pull my boot out with a dull sucking sound.

I lift her up and give her an open-jawed kiss on her ear, but she sees a squirrel and won’t stop squirming until I set her down.

“No farther than the Stones, Leelee.”

When we finally catch up, she’s clambering over the variously sized rocks that form rough circles around the ancient central stones. Over the years, the circle has encroached farther and farther into the forest, surrounding the trees.

Leelee marks one of the stones.

“What is this?” Ti asks.

“It’s, um…the Gemyndstow? The memory place? But we just call it the Stones.”

“Like a graveyard?”

“Graveyards are for bodies, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“So, no. Coyotes eat our dead. That’s why we call them wulfbyrgenna. Wolf tombs. The stones are only for wolf names and the date of their last hunt so that we can remember.”

When Ti crouches down and looks at one near the front, Leelee runs up to him and looks too, trying to figure out why it is so interesting.

As soon as he stands, she marks that one too.

An ill-advised squirrel runs across the outer rim of the Stones, and Leelee turns quickly to run after it, the wind tickling her fur and the scent in her nose. I know that feeling of taking it all in—moldering pine needles, owl pellets, borer beetle, tree sap, two-year-old porcupine den, sassafras bush—until the scent of prey hits you right in the back of the throat and everything tenses and you chase, even if your tummy’s little and full and all you really want is for the thing, whatever it is, to escape so you don’t have to eat it, but still you can’t help but hunt.

She peels off after her squirrel, looking behind to make sure we’re watching.

The squirrel chitters at her from the safety of a maple. Ti stares, his hands fisted by his sides, as Leelee scampers and bounds and falls on her back and twists her little legs in the air, her belly dotted with leaf litter. A tiny furrow cuts through his usually impassive brow, and his mouth, while still tightly closed, turns down a little at the corners. His wild—that seductive scent of crushed bone and evergreen—radiates thicker now, and when I touch his arm, he jolts as if from a waking dream and blinks down at me, looking in this moment like a lost boy.


About the Author: 

Maria Vale is a journalist who has worked for Publishers Weekly, Glamour magazine, Redbook, the Philadelphia Inquirer. She is a logophile and a bibliovore and a worrier about the world.

Trained as a medievalist, she tries to shoehorn the language of Beowulf into things that don’t really need it. She currently lives in New York with her husband, two sons and a long line of dead plants. No one will let her have a pet.

Visit her website.


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BLOG TOUR ~ Feels Like Home by Jennifer Van Wyk

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Feels Like Home, an all-new emotional standalone
from Jennifer Van Wyk is available NOW!

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Andy Simpson never expected to be raising his teenage twin sons alone.

Then again, he also never expected to walk into his house and see his wife with another man. In their bed. Or that it wasn’t her first time.

Bitterness threatened to wrap around his heart, darkening every part of his life.

But a brightness he wasn’t even looking for entered their lives and wouldn’t let it take hold.

Christine Jameson knew all about being a single parent. But she was holding a secret. A secret she wasn’t willing to allow anyone to find out. One she’d held tight for years.

But one look at Andy, and she knew that she needed to be honest with him. That he deserved to know he wasn’t alone.

They both needed friendship. Needed someone who understood, who had compassion without judgement.

What they didn’t imagine was for it to become something more.

That they would come to share something they never thought they would experience again.

They didn’t expect for it to… Feel Like Home.



Excerpt:

I reach across the cushion and grasp her hand in mine, squeezing once. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

She squeezes my hand once in response. “I’m sorry you’re going through it now.”

“Thank you.”

“So, want some advice?”

“Eat more lemon pound cake?”

She releases my hand and sits back, giggling, and again I’m hit with how much I love hearing the sound of her laughter. “Well, that, too. I could even say it’s healthy because it’s made with Greek yogurt.”

“You trying to tell me something?” I tease her.

She smiles, a cross between sad and sort of resigned.

“My advice? Be happy.”

“What’s that?”

“Be happy. I promise you. First of all, it will drive Heather nuts knowing you are moving on without her. But second of all, and this is the most important part of it, you’ll be happy.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. When Todd was at his sickest, we practiced a lot of happiness. Happiness because we had good days, or we had quiet moments to spend as a family when he could barely get out of bed. Happiness when we were able to celebrate holidays. After he cheated, one of the things we discovered was that we could either give in to the ugly that it brought on, or we could move on. We moved on. And he had to do the same. We both had guilt. Guilt for how we got there. I questioned if I wasn’t giving him what he needed. He questioned everything. I’m not going to lie… it’s hard, and most days you’ll have to dig deep, but you’ll get there. Trust me. The light is always better than the dark.”

I lay my head on the back of the couch and turn to look at her. She’s so gorgeous it almost hurts to look at her. I’ve always thought so, though I would have never done a thing about it. She has always been the mom who turned heads.

“What was he thinking?” I murmur.

“Pardon?”

“Todd. What was he thinking?”

“You mean…”

“When he stepped out.”

She doesn’t respond, just simply smiles before biting her lip and looking away, her long, dark, silky hair falling over her shoulder. She ducks her head and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, though I don’t know what I’m apologizing for. Almost admitting how gorgeous I think she is? Her husband cheating? Her husband dying? Me laying my shit out for her? All of it, probably.

“I’m sorry Heather’s such an asshole,” she replies with a shrug.

I bark out a laugh. “She is definitely an asshole.”

“She forgot rule number one.”

“What?”

“Never mind… it was in a book I read.”

“Ahh. Good book?”

“More than good.” She gives me a ghost of a smile and reaches over to grip my hand, squeezing once before letting go. “So, what are you going to do?”

“Honestly? I have no clue. I need to find a place for the boys and me to stay, talk with a lawyer… that part I know for sure. I can’t stay with her. As sad as it sounds, and maybe it’s kind of a little mean, but I think we fell out of love a long time ago. We’ve been hanging on by a thread for years. I’m sure part of it was my fault, but still…”

“It’s no excuse. This has nothing to do with you, Andy. This is all Heather. You’re a great guy. It’s Heather’s loss.”

“I appreciate you saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”


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BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

Feels Like Home was a really good, well written and engaging read by Jennifer Van Wyk and while it was my first read by the author, it won’t be my last.

I loved the development of the relationship between Andy & Christine and how they both fell hard but took their time and thought about their kids and how their changing feelings would affect both of their families.

The story had a load of feels. While for the most part it was positive and uplifting, there were times of heartbreak and sadness and at one point I seriously wanted to do damage to Andy for his pigheadedness and lack of faith in Christine!

Reece, Aiden and Bri – Andy’s twin boys and Christine’s daughter – were fabulous characters and during the gossip-mongering the twins seemed to have more sense than their father!

For me this is a great 4* read that I definitely recommend you give a look.



About Jennifer:JenniferVanWykLogo


From the Ground Up was Jennifer’s first published novel and now that she was bitten by the writing bug, has no intention of ever stopping. Jennifer makes her home in small town Iowa with her high school sweetheart, three beautiful, hilarious and amazing kids, one crazy Jack Russell terrier. This is where her love for all things reading, baking, and cooking happen. Jennifer’s family enjoys camping, boating, and spending time outside as much as possible. You’ll be her best friend if you can make her laugh and follow up with asking her what to read next.

When she’s not writing, you can find her cheering the loudest at her kids’ sporting events (read as: embarrassing them), sipping coffee or iced tea out of a mason jar with her Kindle in her lap or binging on Netflix.

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Hail Mary (Hail Raisers #6) by Lani Lynn Vale

 
 

 

Title: Hail Mary
Series: Hail Raisers #6
Author: Lani Lynn Vale

 

Genre: Romance Suspense 
Release Date: February 9, 2018
 
  
 
 

Mary Persephone Hail

Mary—well-wished-for child.

Persephone—destruction.

Hail—well that speaks for itself.


Her name is painful to think about. Mary, his newfound daughter, isn’t a wished-for child. Persephone, though?
Yeah, destruction is a fitting description. And Hail? Yeah, that’s just the final f-you.

 

The moment that her mother drops her off on his doorstep, Dante’s hell becomes complete.

Or so he thinks.

What can make life worse after losing one’s wife and kids, you ask? Here’s what: being given a baby that depends on him for her survival. Finding out that the baby’s mother is dying of brain cancer, and has a husband that he never knew about. A husband that Dante knows in the marrow of his bones is trying to kill her just as surely as the cancer eating her brain.

Dante’s a bad person. He’s done some not so nice things, and now he’s being punished for his misdeeds. Karma is finally catching up to him.

This child that he’s been stuck with is of his flesh and bone. This child is his salvation.
This child is the final nail in the coffin of his wife and daughters’ too short lives.

He doesn’t want this child.

But this child will save him whether he wants her to or not.

With the help of a friend—yes, a woman friend—Dante finds his way back to life. But what he finds when he gets back isn’t the same life that he left behind. Turns out, he has to start living a new one. One where he’s suddenly having feelings for a friend that helped him get through some tough times, and loving a daughter that won’t let him quit.


 

 
 
 
 

 


“How do I articulate how amazing this story is?” – Cali Gals


“Thanks Lani for a couple so beautifully broken that it makes me want to wrapped them up and never let go.” – One Last Page Book Blog


“Another amazing read from Lani Lynn Vale. Again.” – Books After Fifty…

  

 


I love this series but have to admit that even though I was so looking forward to Dante’s story I was kinda worried that he was gonna be so broken he’d never find happiness again….. I shouldn’t have worried or doubted that Lani Lynn Vale would give us anything other than some heartbreak but with a happy ending!

Hail Mary was an emotional roller coaster of a ride. Gods only know how bad things had gone for the eldest Hail brother when he lost his family and I’m sure a second chance at life was not something that appealed to him never mind something he considered but that’s exactly what Dante Hail got in the form of his little girl, Mary. 

I adored Cobie, she was strong AF, had been through so much but still had so much to offer. Her connection with Mary was heartwarming and I loved reading scenes where they were together.

Now, you get no points for guessing that Hail Mary was a definite ‘rip your heart out, throw it around, stomp on it and just when you thought you’d finally get it back, broken but fixable, it was squished again’ read but gods, I loved every single minute of it – even when I wanted to kick Dante in the nuts for being so stubborn and stoopid….. 

A fantastic end to one of my favourite series, I cannot wait for what Lani has lined up for us next! 

5 solid ‘heartbreaking but worth it’ stars!!! 

~ Tracy xx

 


 
 
 




 

 
  
 

I’m a married mother of three. My kids are all under 8, so I can assure you that they are a handful.
I’ve been with my paramedic husband now for ten years, and we’ve produced three offspring that are nothing like us.I live in the greatest state in the world, Texas.

 
 
 



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