Category Archives: Excerpt

RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ Hail Mary by Nicola Rendell

 

 

 

 
 
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At a boxing gym in Chicago, Mary Monahan accidentally knocks out the most handsome man she’s ever met. After she wakes him up with a few slaps and some smelling salts, the very first thing he does is ask her out for ribs and beer. His name is Jimmy. He looks like a Gillette model. And he’s just too hunky to resist.

Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.

Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.

But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”

In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.

Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.

And throws their lives into total chaos.

***

To the reader: Contents includes love, sweetness, naughtiness, honey, champagne, and an HEA. Safe.



 

 
 
 

 
Chapter 1

Jimmy


She’s got a hell of a left hook, and her jab is no joke either. It’s hard to tell what she really looks like, with the big blue rubber mouth guard between her teeth and the black padded headgear covering her jaw and cheeks. But I know this: I want to get my hands on that body. Her tight pink tee is low cut and skin tight, and across her breasts are the words: “NOBODY’S PUSSYCAT.”
A cold draft blows in from the window, making goosebumps ripple up her arms. A thin stream of sweat runs down into her cleavage, and then I watch her nipples tighten. Christ. With little bounces, she heads back to her corner and bends over for her water bottle. Stretchy black leggings and no panty line.
Fuuuuuck.
The buzzer dings and we square up. She holds her gloves up to her face, ready to go. They’re bubblegum pink with white cuffs; the girliest weapons I’ve ever seen.
But never mind the gloves. It’s those eyes that have me. Shit, those eyes. This crazy deep green. Packers’ green. Jets’ green. Green like cash. Green that could make a guy go right out of his mind.
Pow goes a jab into my stomach and I double over, tasting my Gatorade from an hour ago. Before I can breathe, before I can even get up my gloves to slow her down, she pelts me hard with a cross to my sternum that knocks the wind straight out of me. I gasp for air and stagger back into the ropes.
“Jesus Christ,” I moan. “Who are you?”
Her eyes light up in this smile. This beautiful fucking smile that I feel way down inside. Then she bounces on her toes and smacks her gloves together out in front of her. Whap, whap. “I’m Mary!” she says around her mouth guard. “And you’re slow!”
Cute. But, yeah…no. Nobody talks to me like that. Nobody. I hurl myself off the ropes, colliding with her in the center of the ring, skin against skin now. I press into her sexy shoulder with my bicep, feeling the sweat between us. She nails me in the gut again; a solid, low-slung straight, and I think, I can’ t hit a girl, can I?
No. Fuck, no.
So I stretch my arm between us, the padding of my glove holding her steady right below her collarbone. She swings for me but I’m a foot taller and she doesn’t stand a chance. “Jerk!”
Obviously.
But on the upside, now I can really get a good look at her the way I want to; close up, but not so close that she’s pummeling me. Her legs are solid and I can even see that little curve of her hipbones barely showing through her leggings. I let my eyes follow the line of sweat to her inner thighs, to that wet, hot place where everything comes together. Fuck. I want my hands on that place. I want to feel the softness and the strength. I want to know the taste of that sweat. The way that softness gives under my tongue.
Ding goes the buzzer. I push her away, padded knuckles to her shoulder. She spins and gets into her corner, so I do the same.
I grab my water bottle and squirt it into my mouth, watching her all the time. She’s fucking beautiful, this one. Fucking gorgeous. The woman of dreams. Of fantasies.
From a pink Nalgene, she takes one big gulp, two, and a little water dribbles down her lips, rolling in drops down her throat. Her eyes stay right on mine. Her chest heaves. Her eyes flash. Her lips tighten. And that’s when it happens. She peels off her T-shirt and tosses it to the floor so that the only word showing is PUSSY.
Ding.
Her body is fucking perfect. I mean perfect. I moan into my mouth guard and I look her up and down. Lean but not thin. Sexy and strong. A fighter’s body. A woman’s body. A body strong enough to take everything I want to give it. And then some.
She turns to set down her water bottle, bending at the waist. And that’s when I see it. The tattoo. It’s a ribbon of black lace that runs in a beautiful, feminine line down her back from right shoulder to left hip, curving down into her pants. Tough as hell, pretty as can be. And with the sexiest tattoo I’ve ever seen in my life.
Stick a motherfucking fork in me. I’m done.
“Nice ink,” I tell her as we square up again.
“Thanks,” she says, leaning in to my shoulder.
“I’ve never seen one like it.” I hook my arm around her again and pull her in. I smell something familiar. I can’t place it. She slips free and moves behind me. For one second, all I can hear is her shoes on the mats.
“I rebelled when I turned 30. It was either this or a tramp stamp.”
“Of what?” I pivot so my face is close against hers.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” She smiles tight around the mouth guard. Her glove comes through the air, cutting through the noise of the gym. Whooosh.
I get my right hand up just in time to block her with my glove. The impact rolls down my forearm like I’m nothing but Jell-O.
She lets another jab fly but misses me—barely—and I slip around behind her. The hair at the nape of her neck is curly and wet, and a long dark braid runs down her back. That strip of wet fabric at the top of her pants, dark with sweat. “Why are we fighting?” I growl as I get closer. “Why aren’t we out drinking? Making trouble? Fucking around? Let me take you out.”
She spins to face me, her eyes wide open, surprised. “You wanna drink with me?”
“Hell yes, I do. And a lot of other things.”
“You want me? Fight me.” She fires her bubblegum pink cannons at my stomach with a one-two combination that makes me feel like I’m nothing but a 283-pound heavy bag.
I try to get in a left cross, but she’s way faster than I am and comes up from under with a hook straight out of Manila.
That one got me in my brainpan, in my marrow. “Fuck that,” I snarl.
“Atta boy!”
No way. Nobody atta boys me. I’m Jimmy Goddamned Falconi. I’m nobody’s boy. Never.
“Atta girl.” I nudge her in the shoulder with my chest.
Around her guard, she says, “You fight like you’re in molasses. But you’re strong. You some kind of athlete?”
At first, I’m about to laugh. For about one second, I think I might be on Candid Camera or something. I mean, I can’t walk to the bathroom on an airplane without someone asking me to sign a cocktail napkin. I can’t get through Costco without someone asking me to sign their shopping list. Some kind of athlete?
I’m Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi. Quarterback for the Chicago Goddamned Bears. I’m somebody.
But there’s zero recognition in her eyes. No flicker of the fangirl. No sign she’s playing it cool either. To her, I’m just a guy getting his ass kicked by a girl in pink gloves.
“Hello?” She presses into my chin with a slow uppercut from the right.
I snap out of it. I don’t even know how to answer her. I play quarterback for the Bears. Ever heard of them? Or maybe, Ever heard of football? America’s Game? Fuck. I wouldn’t even know how to start. I’ve never had to explain it. People just know. “Yeah, I like to work out.”
“Then act like it,” she says, all piss and vinegar, and puts her guard back in her mouth. Wham comes that jab into my gut. Pow goes the straight to my pecs. I loop one arm around her and pull her body in close, hooking the back of her neck with the crook of my elbow. I pull her closer, tighter, both arms around her, to get a feel for her…but also to give myself a goddamned break.
She struggles a little, trying to squirm free, but I see the smile on her face, the crinkle of the skin at her eyes.
I pull her head closer to mine. I must be twice her weight; no way is she going to get free now. We are the welterweight and the super heavyweight. Wrong class totally. But then she wedges her forehead in against my chest. I watch her wind up, her biceps flexing, and, boom-boom-boom.
Every time she connects, I lose a little more air and groan, “Fuck-fuck-fuck!”
“Atta boy!”
Fuck. That.
So I keep her pinned and she starts fighting harder, which makes me want to hang on to her more. I press my nose against her head. In her thick brown hair, I can smell her shampoo, her conditioner. Coconut.
While I’m distracted by that smell, thinking of sunscreen and ukulele music and drinks with umbrellas and her on a beach, she slips out from under my arms and pops up in my face.
Well, shit.
“What, you chicken? Gonna hit me back? Or do you want to dance around for an hour or two? Because I can totally do that. I just have to go home to feed the dog.” Whap-whap go her padded fists.
Oh no, no way. No way am I going to let a pretty little thing talk to me like that. I sniff hard and man up.
I give her a jab. A hook. A cross.
And she blocks me every damned time. Blocks me like she’s fought me before, or like she’s known all along what I’ll do when it comes down to it.
Fucking wax-on-wax off, one-two-three.
Pow-pow go her gloves into my side, and fuck. I think I feel those it in my spleen. Enough. Enough. Anger boils up through me like cheap vodka after a long night.
I’m Jimmy Falconi. And I’m gonna make this girl know my name.
I crack my neck side to side and get serious. I suck air through the holes in my mouth guard and get my fists up. I edge her into the corner and those eyes flash at me. She’s sweating hard and her mascara is smudged. Her hair is mussed and her skin is slick. It makes her look dangerous. Angry. I’d like to smudge that mascara a little more. In bed. Immediately.
But first, I’m going to show her who’s boss.
The more she works herself up, the hotter she gets. That’s when something catches my eye. There’s something written on the white cuffs of her gloves. All fuzzy, written in black marker:
On the right glove: HERE COMES…
On the left:…TROUBLE!
Whomp.
She nails me in the jaw with a haymaker, and my molars shake. “Come the fuck on,” I growl back at her, with my glove pressed to the side of my face.
She smacks her gloves together, and lowers her chin. “Are we sparring or chatting? Hit me!” Bounce, bounce, bounce. Butterfly, bee. Whap, whap, whap. “I’m not going to break!”
I work my jaw open and closed a few times thinking, Okay. Fine. Fine. I didn’t think it was going to go like this, but I can roll with a hostile defense, sure. Wouldn’t be the first time. I give her the old elevator stare—up, down, up again—and get stuck on her belly button for a little too long. But then I get a game plan together. I figure I can hit her in the stomach. Not too hard, not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to let her know who’s in charge here.
Which would be me. Me, pussycat. Me.
Nudging the edge of her shoulder with my glove, I drive her backwards. Our eyes lock and I get this…this…prickle all through me.
This woman.
This one. Right here.
I want her. So fucking bad.
The fucking gym with its ten phones playing mariachi goes silent. The guys by the cooler egging her on go silent. It’s just her and me and the sweat dripping between us. Soft skin, sparkling eyes. She smells like a summer day and she’s looking at me in a way that no woman has ever looked at me. Ever.
Like she’s gonna own me and she knows it.
Which is bullshit.
She gives me a little lift of her chin and tightens her lips around the guard. She wipes her nose with her glove and then lowers her head. “Come on! You going to fight or are you just going to screw around?”
With my left hand, I jab her softly in the stomach. With the right, a play-hook to the jaw. I raise her chin on my glove so her eyes come up to mine. Then I pull her close, my arm around the back of her neck again. “You wanna screw around?” I say into her ear.
Bam, another hit to the stomach. “I haven’t even gotten started,” she answers.
Fuck it.
She wants to play? Fucking fine. I’ll play. I’ll play hard. I square up. But she gives me this eye. This champion eye. A winner’s eye. Cocky like no eyes I’ve ever seen before. Tom Brady doesn’t have anything on this kind of cocky right here. My luck, this girl’s some UFC champion. Christ.
But I can take her. Yeah, I sure fucking can.
Probably.
I decide on a straight jab; a no-fail straight jab that I plan just hard enough to send her reeling but not hurt her, not actually injure her. I know the punch. It works in bar fights and brawls on the field. An all-American move. As I wind up, everything slows down. I’m 6’6”, 283 pounds, and I throw a football for a living. When I wind up, I wind up. As I do, she ducks, fast as fucking lightning. Greased. Elegant. Lethal. So as my arm is powering through the air, as my momentum gets caught behind 12-ounce training gloves, she pops back up like a goddamned whack-a-mole.
Those eyes flash again and she smiles so hard I can see her dimples.
Dimples. Oh, fuck.
I watch her shoulder tighten, her tricep pucker, and that’s when she lets me have it for real.
The punch comes from left to right, blocking out my view of everything. I don’t see the Mexican flag on the wall. I don’t see the graffiti mural over the windows. Nope. The universe turns bubblegum pink.
It doesn’t hurt, not at first, and as I’m flying backwards, airborne, I have just enough time to think to myself, I wonder if this is what a knockout punch feels like…
Before everything flickers to black.
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 

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Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
 
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BLOG TOUR ~ Crown Jewels by Ella James

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Crown Jewels
by Ella James

Publication Date: November 20th, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Synopsis:

From USA Today bestseller Ella James…

After that close-up of his package on the sailboat in Morocco, TMZ started calling him Crown Jewels.

Not that I keep track of Prince Liam. Definitely don’t stalk him online like my friends do.
I’m out of that scene now. My family’s reality show might still be running, but I’ve been off-screen for a while. When people pass me on the sidewalk, they might squint, but most of them don’t scream “Lucy Rhodes” and ask about my love of Lucky Charms or how my broken toe healed.

Prince Liam—my stalking his Instagram—that’s just for fun. It’s my dirty little secret. Trust me, I’m the only woman in the world who doesn’t actually want him.

Except I’m back in the Hamptons for the first time in two years. I’m at a party, and Prince Manwhore is here as well. I tell myself that smile has no effect on me. That his ridiculous charisma is a parlor trick I see right through.

After our one night together, no one knows that I succumbed.

It doesn’t matter. It meant nothing.

Not until I see those two pink lines.

**
Crown Jewels is an 80,000-word contemporary romance novel with no cliffhanger ending.



Excerpt:

LUCY

I awaken in darkness.

The room is pitch black, and someone’s arm is locked around me. For a blind, horrific second, fear grips my heart, so hard and painful that I gasp.

And then I smell him. I’m not sure exactly where I am right at his moment. But I smell aftershave and soap, a little bit of sunscreen and a little bit of sweat, and my body knows it’s him.

Prince Liam.

Liam, prince of the Isle of Gael, is lying in this bed behind me. A few careful, quiet breaths and I’m pretty sure…he’s sleeping.

Holy Hello Kitty. Prince Liam is sleeping next to me. My body flushes, bliss and horror.

How’d we get here? What the hell is going on? And then I feel his fingers in my hair. His hand is in my hair—right now! He fell asleep rubbing my hair.

My eyes fly to the windows: dark. What time is it? My clutch is somewhere in this room. I’m not sure where.

I shut my eyes and try to keep my breathing even as I run the night’s events back through my mind. Downstairs, talking to the Playmate. Bryce. My body jerks at the memory, and I can feel Prince Liam’s body rock a little bit against mine. Big and wide and hard. He’s bowed around me like a shield.

Heat blooms in between my legs.

I freaked out, and he saw me. I embarrassed myself, walked in on some kind of threesome.

Why did he come back?

It’s his room, you moron. I’m probably in his guest room. I draw a deep breath in and feel his sturdy arm tighten around me. I feel his face against my neck, the roughness of his scruffy beard. Warmth spreads through me. Then he stirs some more and makes a low sound in his throat. And then I feel his mouth against my neck. His lips—

He’s kissing me.

I don’t mean to make a sound, but then I feel him press himself against my backside. Terror bubbles in me.

“Stop!”

I pull away, and he’s awake. His eyes, I see them in the dark. They’re wide. He pushes up on his arm and holds his big hand up.

I watch him rub his eyes. He looks around. He looks confused.

“You fell asleep,” I offer.

He blinks at me as if he didn’t understand my words. Then he reaches for me. He takes my hand and cradles it in his two hands. He looks into my eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asks me, voice low, words rolling with that Scottish-sounding accent of his.

“I’m fine.”

He shakes his head slowly, at least I think I see him do that. Then he’s simply staring at me. With those hazel eyes.

Dear God, he’s gorgeous.

His hand traces mine. Then he lies back down and pulls me down beside him. He wraps me up against his body, and I notice he’s not pushing his dick against me anymore.

“You smell good,” he murmurs. “You have pretty hair.”

“Are you drunk?”

I think I see his lips twitch. “I don’t get drunk.”

I turn around to face him. He pushes some hair off my forehead. Then he kisses me. It’s so gentle, so careful, I can’t help responding. He tastes like cinnamon, like liquor. His mouth explores mine, his tongue gliding past my own, his big hand in my hair again.

He kisses me until I can’t breathe, and then he pulls away. “Tá tú álainn.”

I frown.

He smiles, that gentle, gorgeous smile. “Gaelic.” He tips his forehead to mine. He says something else I don’t understand, then kisses the side of my mouth, his lips feathering gently over mine.

I feel his knee move, as if he’s shifting his hips, and I can’t help pulling him closer for another kiss.

I touch his shoulders as I kiss him, and I can feel his body tense under my hands. His tongue glides back into my mouth, and he moans.

Holy shit. I kiss him deeper and his body rocks against mine. His hands are on my head; he pulls me closer, till we’re pressed together, chest to hips.

He says something low and very soft, something that sounds like, “On all that is holy…”

Then his hand is on my shoulder, squeezing. His hand is squeezing, then he’s grasping my breast.

I grind myself against him, gasping between kisses. My body burns with heat and fear. My heart riots. Adrenaline almost overcomes me at the feel of his hard body up against mine, his chest pumping, his breath warm. I’m losing it when his hand leaves my breast and slides around my hip to cradle me against his body.

God, I’ve never been handled this way, as if…I’m everything. He’s rough then gentle, firm then tender, desperate all the while. I can feel the warmth of his breath, can hear the pattern of his ragged inhalations.

His scratchy cheek presses against mine, and I can feel his body heat. He leans away, his chest still pumping. I put my hand between his pecs. I can’t help it. He’s so…perfect. My fingertips wander to the seal above his heart, the royal tattoo he got when he was younger.

I trace my finger down his chest, and the prince’s abs harden. “Christ.” That was a flinch, I think.

I swear to God, I can feel the heat pulse in between my legs. Something overtakes me, something big and brash and heady: power.

I rub my fingertip over the hair that trails down toward his pants, and that’s when I see his stiff erection.

My brain explodes with memories of perfection wrapped in wet boxer-briefs. I’m not thinking. I just touch.

He sucks back a sharp breath. I trace the plump, perfect head, hating the fabric barrier between my hand and his skin. Liam groans, his length jutting toward me.

I look into his eyes and find them hazy. “Lucy…”

“You want me to touch it?” My voice is sultry, not my voice at all.

I’m rubbing him before he has the chance to answer. His breath catches. Then he moans low in his throat and starts to pant. His eyes are shut, I find as I rub his thick cock through his pants. His hand hovers over my mine as if he wants to grab me. His long fingers curl into a fist.

I drag my fingers down the length of him, surprised to find he’s even bigger than I thought. His heavy eyelids lift a little. My Lord, he’s fucking gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect male, and this one, shirtless, panting as he presses up against my hand—he turns me on so much I want to screw him.

Holy hell, I want to screw Prince Liam.

I try to grip him through his pants, fondle his balls, waiting for him to jump up and throw me on the bed. Waiting for him to scare me.

But he doesn’t.

He just locks his big fist up over my arm and leans his head back on the pillow, groaning through his locked jaw as I unbutton his pants and come to his black boxer-briefs. I can see his head so well. I see the rim of it. I rub a fingertip over it and he mutters a curse.

His hand uncurls, the side of his fingers touching my wrist. I reach inside his boxer-briefs and wrap my hand around him. Still, he doesn’t grab my arm. I watch his face as I firm up my grip and stroke him. I can feel his hips tremble. I fold his fly back, try to pull his briefs down. He lifts his hips and pulls them down himself. I look with wide eyes at what has got to be an eight-inch dick and the weighty balls below. Crown Jewels.

I touch his balls and watch them draw up underneath my fingertips. I run my hand from the base of his cock back up toward the tip. His eyes open on a deep breath.

“Fuck…”

Oh my God, is that a little bit of precum? I feel a rush of heat between my own legs as I blink at it. For the first time in two years, I clench. I feel greedy. Needy.

Holy hell, I have to have him.

My head spins as I climb on top of him, straddling his hips as his eyes rise to meet mine. He flexes beneath me, and a zip of fear streaks through me. That he’ll throw me off and get on top of me. That he’ll grab my wrists and squeeze. Instead, Prince Liam peers up at me with hooded eyes, smiling a pirate’s smile as his hand rubs my knee.

I pull my dress up and struggle with my thong. My hands are shaking too hard to pull it off. I rub myself against him, panting. Liam groans.

“Christ almighty…” His jaw is locked as he rasps, “Lucy.” Then he rips my thong.

He says something else in what I realize must be Gaelic. Then he’s reaching down, stroking himself. With the fingers of his other hand, he parts my lips. He rubs a finger over me, making me tremble.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful…”

I don’t know how he knows because his eyes are shut, but I love the way his face looks. Suddenly it’s all I can do to stay still. And then I can’t. I’m shaking as I pull his cock away from his amazing abs. My legs quiver as I rise up, holding his shaft, pushing his thick head against my entrance.

His lips are parted now, his eyes still shut. I sink down on him inch by slow, amazing inch and watch him writhe, knees coming up around me as I take him deep—so deep I can’t help crying out.

His hands squeeze my hips, not to hard. And then he’s lifting me off him, his muscular arms straining so my legs don’t have to. His powerful abs ripple with each thrust: he rises just a little, letting me sink down on him. I put my hands over his and use my legs to rise and fall, taking control of things. Taking control because I have to.

He doesn’t let me fully. Liam sets the pace, his big breaths punctuating the rhythm of our thrusting. I’m rising up, using the well-honed muscles of my thighs, but his hands around my hips are lifting, too.

When I sink, I lean over, pinching his nipples sometimes, reaching around behind myself to cup his balls. His groans are loud and ragged. His face is tense, almost pained, and I love it when I feel the goose-bumps on his diamond-chiseled hips.

Then he changes something up… Changes the angle. When he fills me up…I lose control. I can’t stop the sounds from pouring from my throat. Can’t stop the way I lean sideways against his raised knee, gripping it with my arm. I hear a whimper, and it’s mine.

“Oh God!” I’m so full. I don’t think I’ve ever been this full before…

“That’s right,” he murmurs, thrusting harder.

When he pulls out and lifts me up, I’m desperate for him, scrambling to get back on that huge cock. My skin tingles with sweat. My mouth is open; I can’t breathe—

I feel him harden, swell and tighten, stretching me. When I’m filled with him, I grind around.

“Oh my God!”

I’m right there on the edge. He draws me off him, and I fumble to grab onto his arms and press myself back down. My fingers graze his hips, and then he pushes me down hard. I’m filled so deep and full, my body starts to quake. My stomach quivers, and my eyes flip open just in time to find he’s watching me.

His lips are curved, his eyes lust-hazed.

I do the only thing I can think of to equalize the situation, reaching around behind myself again to roll his big balls in my shaking fingers. One roll, followed by a gentle tug. I feel his cock thump hard inside me, causing me to lean down on him. That’s where I lie as heat fills me: there across his flawless chest.

For just a second, his hands cup my face. His eyes linger on mine, his mouth still open with pleasure, his thick pecs rising under me.

“Luce. Goddamn.”

It’s an exultation.

I feel so good there on him, I can’t move for a long moment. He just came inside me, and it feels so right.

I marvel at how…fine I feel. How tired and good and…good.

I stroke my nails up his side. “Mmm.” I grin.

Liam laughs, a throaty sound.

I feel his lips on my forehead as he leans up, the quick swipe of his palm over my hair. “You are fucking perfect, Lucy Rhodes.”

He pushes up on one elbow, holding me against him for a moment, one big arm around me.

Then I’m easing off him, and he’s moving lithely off the bed. “Let me get you something.”

I sink into the covers, waiting for the fallout: for a shudder, for a sob. But nothing comes.

He returns smirking, and grins broadly when our eyes meet. Instead of handing me the warm, wet cloth, he delves under the covers, his knuckles grazing my belly as he spreads the cloth over me and lays his hand there, as if offering some wordless blessing over my vagina.

I start laughing, and he laughs with me.

“You’re a real prince, Liam.”

He grins. “I’ve been told.”

And it’s so natural, I don’t feel funny cleaning up under the covers with him there beside me.

I stretch out on my back, catching my breath. I’m thinking how sad I’ll be to get up when he lies beside me, his big shoulder bumping mine.

“You were incredible,” he says in a gravelly voice. And somehow, it’s not patronizing or weird. Just very, very genuine.

I giggle like a dumb teenager.

He turns over on his side, propping his head in his hand as he looks down on me. Then he lies back flat, wraps an arm around me, pulls me close, and kisses just under my ear. One of his legs rubs mine. He makes a soft, male sound, then falls asleep as if we do this every night.

I lie awake staring at him in the darkness. Who is this man? I run my open palm over his hair, which he let down sometime when I wasn’t looking. He relaxes just a little more against me, and I like it. That’s the last thought that I have before I wake up to an empty bed.

 


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Ella James is the USA Today bestselling author of fifteen teen and adult love stories. She’s an angst-a-holic who loves exploring difficult situations and the emotions of the people caught up in them. Also, smut. But always, always romance.

Ella’s obsessions include vanilla cream soda, hiking, other obscure, crunchy stuff like rock collecting, and the antics of her 2.5 little monsters. (Monsters 1 and 2 will meet Monster 3 in November).

Connect with Ella:

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RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ Christmas Candy by Celia Aaron

 
 
 
 
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A Christmas novella where everyone gets their just desserts.
Olive had a major crush on Hank in high school. She was the too-smart, slightly chubby girl who gawked as Hank ran track and made all the cheerleaders swoon. After high school, the two went their separate ways. Olive opened a yoga studio and swore off sweets while Hank traveled the world. No problem, right? At least there wasn’t a problem until Hank moved back to town and opened a candy shop across the street from Olive’s studio. Now, Olive will do everything she can to shut her old crush down. But Hank has other plans, and all of them end with an Olive sundae.

Author’s Note: This is a sweet Christmas treat that will leave you satisfied, yet desperate for a little taste of sugar.
 
 
 
 

 


 

 
“Can you call that number again, dear?” Mrs. Carmichael adjusts her enormous bifocals. “I couldn’t hear it over my cats. They meow something terrible when they’re hungry.”
I glance around at the cat-free common room. “Sure. I-14.” 

“Thank you.” She stares at her upside down bingo card.

 

“I wanted to ask you something last night, but I couldn’t quite work up the nerve.” His fingers linger against mine again as he hands me the next ball.

 

“What?” My voice comes out breathy as I call out the number. We should have had a bingo by now, but I’ve learned everything takes a little longer at the senior center.

 

He leans over, his warm breath tickling my ear. “I was wondering what your favorite candy is.”

 

Goosebumps break out along my neck and arms as I snatch the ball from his hands and announce the next number.

 

“I don’t like candy.” I glance at him. He’s watching me, eating me up with his eyes. Problem is, I can’t say the sensation is unpleasant. Quite the opposite.

 

“Come on. Everyone likes candy.”

 

“I don’t.” His nearness is throwing me off, and I stutter out the next number.

 

“You sure? I saw the way you looked at my candy apple.”

 

I huff out a breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

He moves closer, our arms touching. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” His conciliatory whisper has my heart stutter-stepping. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

 

I can’t focus on the numbers, not when he’s winding me up like a clock. It doesn’t help that this is the most distracted I’ve been over a man since … Since senior year when I stared at him running track instead of doing my homework. I’ve fallen into the same hole with the same guy, and I can’t seem to get myself free.

 

“Candy apples.” I keep my voice low.

 

“What?” God, his voice in my ear sends shivers shooting down my spine.

 

“I like candy apples the best.”

 

“I’d like to see you eat one of my candy apples. Extra caramel for you.” He hands me the next ball, his index finger skating along mine. “Something sweet on your tongue.”

 

My body goes up in flames as our eyes meet, and I call out, “O-69.”

 


 


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Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author.
She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.
 
Author Links
 

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BLOG BARRAGE ~ Ares (Guardians of Hades #1) by Felicity Heaton

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Ares
, book 1 in New York Times best-seller Felicity Heaton’s hot new paranormal romance series, Guardians of Hades, is now available in ebook and paperback.
To celebrate the release of Ares and Megan’s romance, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY and sharing sneak peeks of the book.

 

Enter the ARES international giveaway (ends December 11th) and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate by using the Rafflecopter form at her website, where you can also download a 4 chapter sample of the novel:

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Here’s more about the book and the sexy Greek god hero and his heroine…

 

Ares (Guardians of Hades Series Book 1)
Felicity Heaton

Prince of the Underworld and Lord of Fire, Ares was banished from his home by his father, Hades, two centuries ago and given a new duty and purpose—to keep our world and his from colliding in a calamity foreseen by the Moirai.

Together with his six brothers, he fights to defend the gates to the Underworld from daemons bent on breaching them and gaining entrance to that forbidden land, striving to protect his home from their dark influence. Caged by the manifestation of his power, held apart from those he loves by his own fire and starved of physical contact, Ares lives a cold existence driven by duty and the desire to return to his world.

Until his world collides with a daemon who steals his power and a mortal female who shatters the ice around his heart and awakens the true fire within him—a soul-stirring passion both dangerous and seductive.

Megan has wandered far from her home, driven from everyone she loves by the devastating realisation that she is different to them all. Unsure who to trust in the world, she keeps to herself, until a fateful stormy night brings a temptingly handsome warrior crashing into her life and into her heart—a warrior who seems to hold powers more frightening and marvellous than her own.

When the New York gate comes under threat, and Ares is put to the test, will he choose his duty and regain the power he needs in order to save his world or will he choose the desires of his heart and sacrifice his fire so he can be with the woman becoming his whole world?

 

ARES is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback. Find the links to your preferred retailer:

 


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ARES – Excerpt

When the daemon returned, Ares would be ready to deal with him.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had gone into battle injured and drained, and it wouldn’t even be the worst. Life in the mortal world was making him soft. He had once battled a legion of daemons with one arm broken and several arrows lodged in his left thigh, and he had decimated them.

Ares smiled. The good old days. It had been centuries since he had gone to war together with his brothers, unleashing the hunger for violence and destruction that made the god his parents had named him after so proud of him.

He focused and the street whirled and disappeared, replaced by his apartment. He flicked the light on, illuminating the pale coffee-coloured walls and dark furniture in the open plan kitchen and living room. He looked down at his boots and the puddle already forming around them on his wooden floor, and toed them off and kicked them into the kitchen on his right. They tumbled across the tiled floor, hit one of the oak cupboards and stopped. He reached over his shoulder with his right hand, grabbed the back of his ruined wet black t-shirt, pulled it over his head and tossed it onto the tiles with his boots.

The water around his feet evaporated, steam curling off his already drying black jeans. He needed to get his mood in check before something bad happened.

He closed his eyes and drew in several deep breaths, holding each one before slowly expelling the air, and reined in his temper together with his power, restoring the usual rigid control he kept over it and stopping his flames from emerging. The heat that always surrounded him settled to a more manageable, and safer, level, and he released another breath, this one more a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was set his apartment on fire. Again. It had been a shitty enough night without that added cherry on top.

When he felt calm enough to maintain control over his fire, he walked into the open living room and pushed the second door in the wall to his left open. He switched the bathroom light on, turned and frowned at his reflection in the mirrored wall on his left above the vanity unit and sink.

He looked like hell.

The female daemon had done a number on him. Long gashes darted across his chest and forearms where she had caught him with her claws. He touched the deepest one of the three on his pectorals and beads of blood broke to the surface.

He frowned and the gold flecks in his eyes darkened to red, glowing against their earthy brown backdrop.

The daemon shouldn’t have been able to land a single blow on him, let alone several. He had been too complacent tonight. He had been dealing with low level daemons for so long that he had forgotten there were stronger ones out there, just waiting for him to drop his guard.

It wouldn’t happen again.

Ares stared at the tip of his right index finger and slowly released the iron grip he had on his power, allowing his control to slip little by little until the air around his hand shimmered and he could feel the heat of it against his chest. He slammed his hold over his flames back into place, locking them down at their current level and stopping them from burning out of control.

He ground his molars together, grabbed the edge of the oak vanity unit with his other hand to steady himself and drew his finger along the first cut across his chest. Fire blazed in the wake of his finger but he didn’t stop or make a sound, not until he had reached the end of the wound and had cauterised it.

He drew a deep breath, blew it out and flexed his fingers around the edge of the unit. His arm trembled and ached, his shoulder socket throbbing madly. Two more slashes to seal and he could rest. Pain tore through him with each one but it was necessary. He needed to regain his strength as quickly as possible and that meant helping his healing process along in his own way.

His finger reached the end of the final cut and he lowered his head, breathing hard to stifle the pain as he struggled with his power, wrestling it back under control until it was nothing more than an aura of heat around him. He could leave the cuts on his forearms. They were shallow and would easily heal without his assistance.

He flicked the steel tap on, waited until the water was frigid, and then doused his chest and arms with enough of it to clean the blood away. The water heated and steamed the second it touched his skin, and would have evaporated immediately if it hadn’t been ice cold. When the blood was gone, he settled his hands on the edges of the sink, leaning over it.

The water swirled as it reached the drain, ribbons of red streaking the maelstrom. Pain pulsed through him, stealing his strength and focus.

Motionless, he watched his blood snaking down his arms as it continued to trickle from his wounds, immune to his heat because it ran as hot as the rest of him, and then the sink, sliding down it to join the running water. It mesmerised him and time slipped past him as he lost himself in listening to his steady breathing and staring at the swirling water.

The taste of iron in his mouth slowly grew stronger, drawing his focus back to the world, and he probed each tooth with his tongue. It brushed one of his molars and the flow of blood increased. He closed his eyes, reached into his mouth and tugged the loose tooth free, turned it in his fingers, feeling nothing, and then let it fall. It clattered around the white porcelain bowl and stopped in the drain. It didn’t bother him. It would grow back in time.

His temper faded, emotions falling back into place and calm washing through him at last.

He rinsed his arms again, grabbed a white towel off the ones scrunched up on the side of the oak unit and patted himself dry, careful to avoid the cuts and keeping an eye on the soft material. With his temper back under control, it should be safe but he never could quite trust himself. It just took one wrong thought, or a momentary slip in concentration, and he had to go shopping for new linen or new towels.

Or sometimes a new couch.

His hands heated and he dropped the towel next to the sink. Tiny flames flickered over his fingertips. He shook his hand, willing them to behave, and they disappeared.

Ares turned on his heel, exited the bathroom and stalked straight towards his bedroom to his left. The world beyond the bank of windows that formed the exterior wall of his apartment was dark despite the lights from the streets and the buildings surrounding Central Park.

He banked left in his bedroom and slid the oak door to the closet open. He flicked on the light and his weapons greeted him, gleaming steel and death. The sight of them always brought a smile to his lips. There was nothing more beautiful than knives and guns.

Well.

Almost.

He stepped into the closet and ran his hand over the leather and metal circular shield hanging on the back wall, and then the hilt of the matching sword that hung behind it. Metal of the gods. It was warm beneath his fingers, vibrating with power that had him closing his eyes as he absorbed it.

How long had it been since he had wielded his blade?

Too long.

He missed the feel of it in his hand. The weight of it. Only steel forged by the gods could channel his power, and his father had deemed the weapon too destructive to use in the mortal world. Ares hadn’t been pleased to hear that, and neither had his brothers.

He pulled a circular silver and black amulet from the pocket of his jeans and hung it so it lay in the centre of his shield. It would be safest here while he went out to hunt.

He grabbed his black leather shoulder holster, backed out of the closet, switched off the light and slid the door shut. Two gleaming silver knives sat in their sheaths above two equally bright guns. He slung the holster over his bare shoulder and checked each gun, sliding the clips out to check they were fully loaded before slotting them back in and ensuring he had a round chambered.

It wasn’t often that he had to rely on mortal-made weaponry to assist him in his nightly battle against the daemons in his city, but it was reassuring to have them on hand in case he needed them. In his weakened state, they were a blessing from Zeus himself. He could use them to slow daemons down and it was far easier to kill with these weapons than it was with his power. Mortals turned a blind eye when they saw people fighting with guns. They tended to stare if he used his powers.

Ares crossed his dark bedroom to the long ebony chest of drawers that lined the dividing wall, set his weapons down and grabbed a fresh t-shirt. He slipped into the black top and then settled his holster around his broad shoulders.

Dry, armed and no longer bleeding. Things were looking up.

He veered right and skirted around the short length of wall that divided his bedroom from a smaller open room on the other side, walking between it and the red armchair of his suite. The single overhead light from the living room cast pale streaks over the fuel tank of his motorbike. He ran a hand over the paintwork as he passed, promising he would polish it soon, and then opened the French doors onto the balcony.

The city stretched before him, shrouded in rain and darkness, a panorama of a world on the edge.

Only it didn’t know it.

Only he and his brothers knew how close to destruction this world was, a curse from the Moirai so they never forgot or questioned the importance of their duty.

Its fate depended on them and their mission to protect the gates to the Underworld.

Their world.

He moved forwards to the railing, his eyes scanning the city, searching it and hoping that the feeling in his gut was wrong and he wouldn’t be needed again tonight.

Lightning forked across the sky, throwing the buildings into stark relief for a split second before descending them back into darkness. With each brilliant flash, he saw a different city.

The future of this world should they fail.

It balanced on the brink of ruin, the buildings hollow shells, torn and shattered, and the trees ablaze in the fiery darkness. The hot air carried the shrieks of the creatures responsible for the horror and the wails of suffering mortals.

Ares gripped the railing of his balcony, every muscle tensing as he caught flickers of that world in each lightning strike.

Rain lashed the dark scene, falling as water in this world and fire in the next. The wind drove it hard, so nothing could escape the inferno sweeping the land.

Lightning slammed into the earth again, causing another flicker between this rain-soaked night and what he and his brothers had termed the otherworld. It was getting worse and had been for the past decade. Something was growing in the darkness, a threat he and his brothers had been waiting to take form since the oracles had spoken of it to their father centuries ago.

Time was running out. Soon their unknown enemy would reveal themselves and the battle to prevent his world and this mortal one from colliding would begin.

A boom shook the ground and his head snapped up.

The lights across the city died, as though eaten by Nyx herself, plunging the landscape into shadows that seemed unholy and spoke to his senses. He spotted nothing in the darkness though. No sign of daemons or his prey.

Silence wrapped her arms around him, comforting and tender. Ares embraced her in return, savouring this moment of quiet, all too aware of the storm that was coming and that the battle this time would be to the death.

War was on the horizon.

Bloodshed was on his mind.

It was his duty.

He leaned forwards and glanced at the street several storeys below. Cars passed in both directions, their lights the only mortal-made ones in this dark world tonight. Thunder raged overhead and lightning ravaged the land. The scent of earth and rain filled the charged air.

He waited.

A blackout of this magnitude would draw daemons out. They would want to feed on the fear it created.

He would see to it they paid for their vile hungers.

This was his city. Maintaining the peace here and protecting it were his responsibilities, ever since his father had banished him and his brothers from the Underworld two centuries ago.

A dark curse rolled off his tongue in the mortal language and the lightning struck with more force, blazing purple-white and shaking the ground.

Had they sensed his desire to speak in his natural tongue?

The gods of Mount Olympus hated it when those with his power spoke the language of the Underworld on Earth.

Tranquil silence rolled over the world in the wake of the thunder.

The sound of his cell phone ringing shattered it.

It was muffled and distant. He had probably left it with his coat in the living room when he had gone out tonight. Whoever was ringing would give up soon and peace would be his again until the first daemon surfaced to take advantage of the storm.

The phone continued to fill the apartment with a sombre melody and then stopped.

Silence.

Ares sighed and returned his attention to his city. Each explosion of light revealed it to him. Not the otherworld this time but the current one, full of perfect buildings and unharmed nature, and no daemons crawling around. For now. They would emerge soon enough.

His phone started ringing again.

He grimaced.

They were persistent. Only one person could annoy him so thoroughly without trying. His anger rose again, his temperature rising along with it.

Closing his eyes, he reached a hand out behind him and pictured his phone. It whipped into his hand. Being a son of Hades had certain advantages. The power to manipulate his surroundings and the ability to teleport were just two of them.

The bright screen of his phone held a picture of his youngest brother grinning like a fool.

Ares wasn’t in the mood for Calistos’s usual brand of mischief tonight. He swiped his thumb over the option to ignore his call and waited for it to begin ringing again. Nothing annoyed his little brother more than being ignored. Once, Ares had declined a call three times in a row and Cal had teleported from Paris to New York just to give him an earful.

The phone remained silent this time. Maybe his brother had got the message.

He tossed the phone back into his apartment, using his power to guide it back to the crimson couch. The storm began to abate but the electricity showed no sign of returning. Would it be out all night? Now that would be the perfect end to a perfect night. He would be working until dawn to keep the daemons in check.

Rain continued to sweep across the city. It beaded on the back of his hands where they grasped the balcony railing. The droplets steamed and shrank, his body too hot for them to withstand.

Being a son of Hades had disadvantages too.

The heat inside him rose until the water on his skin evaporated. He took a deep breath and reined in his anger. The last thing he wanted to do was set fire to his apartment on a miserable night like tonight. He cursed the rain.

His insides tingled.

The rain slowed at last, causing the earthy scent of the storm to thicken, but it couldn’t mask the coppery stench of evil.

The daemon was back.

Ares rolled his shoulders, stepped back from the railing and turned his hands palm up. He channelled his power towards them. Fierce pale flames rose from his fingers, casting light over the balcony.

He grinned.

Time to hunt.



ARES
is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Find all the links, a fantastic 4 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and also enter the giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website:

 

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BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

I’m a complete PNR junkie but lately I’ve found myself reading more contemporary romance than anything else (don’t get me wrong, that’s not a bad thing) so it was a delight to read ARES and be reminded just exactly what it is about #paranormalromance that I love!

Felicity Heaton was one of the first PNR authors I discovered when I stumbled upon the genre and from the first book I read I was sucked in to her world. Her writing is fantastic, her heroes are hot, fierce and protective, a bit growly and positively possessive of their lady loves but are also often a bit busted and broken (and c’mon, let’s face it, who doesn’t love a sexy book boyfriend that we think we could fix given half the chance?), her heroines often have their own issues to deal with but they’re also pretty kickass; strong, feisty and likable.

Ares and Megan were from two very different world but they had more in common than they’d have thought. Literally from their first meeting they felt a strong connection and attraction but both had a secret and their own reasons why they felt they shouldn’t act on their feelings.
I loved Megan, she was brave, determined, feisty and she knew what she wanted and was prepared to fight for it. Ares was a fabulous hero and definitely a new favourite BBF of mine from Felicity. He was drawn to Megan even before he lost his powers but he battled with what he knew he wanted for himself and what he knew was expected of him and due to the loyalty he felt to his brothers and the promise he had made to his father we were, for a time, unsure which path he’d choose; would it be with his heart or with his head.

This story was packed with everything you’d expect from Felicity. Great likable lead characters, a good supporting cast, humour, action and adventure, suspense, some twists and unexpected turns, loads of heat (quite literally where this pair were concerned!), romance, sexual attractions, passion and smokin’ hot sexy times!
The book is the beginning of what promises to be a very interesting and exciting story arc – one of the things I especially love with Ms Heaton’s books is the glimpses of the bigger picture that she gives us of as her stories unfold and her world building ability – even though it looks like most of the action in this series will take place in the mortal realm.

Ares is the first book in the Guardian of Hades series and I’m really looking forward to finding out more about the other brothers and how they’re gonna find the loves of their lives!

A definite red hot 5* read. A must for paranormal romance lovers.



Books in the Guardians of Hades paranormal romance series:

 

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Book 1: Ares

Book 2: Valen
 Coming in 2017


About the Author:felicityheaton-1

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, her best-selling Her Angel romance series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm romance series or any of her stand alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try her Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series. Or if you like hot-blooded alpha heroes who will let nothing stand in the way of them claiming their destined woman then try her Eternal Mates series. It’s packed with sexy heroes in a world populated by elves, vampires, fae, demons, shifters, and more. If sexy Greek gods with incredible powers battling to save our world and their home in the Underworld are more your thing, then be sure to step into the world of Guardians of Hades.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Website: 

Blog: 

Facebook: 

Twitter: 

Goodreads: 

Instagram: 


BLP Blog Barrage Giveaweay

For your chance to win an eBook from Felicity Heaton enter the giveaway 

Click the image below to enter

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Cowboy Rising (Cowboy Cocktail #5) by Mia Hopkins


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Feisty reporter vs. gruff cowboy—buckle up for a hard ride… 

Come back to the rodeo with Mia Hopkins and the newest release
in the Cowboy Cocktail series, COWBOY RISING!

 

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About COWBOY RISING 

Journalist Georgia Meyers is writing an article about MacKinnon Ranch in a last-ditch effort to save her job at a failing newspaper. At first, the hot-as-hell rancher wants nothing to do with her. But butting heads leads to knocking boots, and soon she’s getting the real story—in bed and off the record.

Cattleman’s son and petroleum engineer Daniel MacKinnon turned down a lucrative oil career to take over the family farm. Frustrated about giving up his dreams and worried about money, Daniel buries himself in ranch work—that is, until gorgeous Georgia shows up and rocks him to the core. A blazing one-night stand leads to something deeper. Despite their feelings for each other, he’s tied to the land and she’s a rolling stone. When the time comes to part ways, will the lovers choose duty over desire? Or will they face their fears and rise to the challenge of love?

Warning: Get ready for sassy banter, sizzling sex, orgasms galore, and a nerdy dirty-talkin’ cowboy who can go all night long.


On Sale in Digital: November 22, 2016Amazon

 

 Add COWBOY RISING to your TBR pile on Goodreads!


CELEBRATE THE RELEASE WITH A GIVEAWAY!

Grand Prize: Digital copies of Books 1-4 in the Cowboy Cocktail series plus a delicate
gold and quartz crystal necklace from FeminaHandmade.

5 Runner-Ups: Digital copies of Cowboy Resurrection (Book #2 in the series)

Giveaway Link:


Excerpt:

His cheeks red from working outside, the new brother removed his gloves and tucked them under his arm. He took off his hat and shook her hand. His rough fingers were warm.

“Daniel MacKinnon.” He didn’t smile.

Georgia couldn’t explain it. With a heavy jaw and dirty blond hair styled high and tight, he was as clean cut as a cadet—she usually preferred tattooed, bearded types. He looked to be in his mid-twenties—she usually liked seasoned men who were older than her, not younger. But this guy’s hotness seared her eyeballs, nailing her feet where she stood.

“Georgia Meyers, L.A. Chronicle,” she said automatically, all other words escaping her. She was too old, too experienced, and far too smart to react this way—and yet, here she was. Staring slack-jawed at a pretty-faced cowboy like some blue-stockinged virgin at a rodeo dance.

 “I know you’re here to see my father,” he said, the low rumble in his voice stroking a sweet spot inside her chest, “but he isn’t available today. You need to reschedule, Miss Meyers.”

His bright green eyes were so distracting, she almost didn’t register his words. “Reschedule?”

“Yeah. You need to come back. Do the interview another day.”

“What?” Snap out of it, Gigi. The story. She yanked her professional persona back in place. “Mr. MacKinnon, I’ve just driven an hour and a half from Fresno to be here. Two days ago, your father said he’d give me a tour of the ranch and walk me through the organic certification process. Isn’t there anyone else I can talk to?”

Daniel’s stoic expression was both infuriating and unspeakably hot. “No.”

Hot or not, who does this guy think he is? She stood up straight. “Okay, let me lay it all out for you. If there’s no one here who will speak with me today, just to make sure my time isn’t wasted, I’ll be more than happy to find another rancher. There are plenty of spreads in your neck of the woods, aren’t there? I’m sure my readers wouldn’t mind learning about conventional ranching operations. Maybe someone at the Hughes Ranch will make time for me. What do you think?”

He narrowed his eyes at her and took a deep but silent breath. His broad chest rose and fell as he looked her over. At last he said, “Can you ride?”

“A little.” Which was completely true, depending on one’s definition of “a little.”

Fresh impatience lit up Daniel MacKinnon’s eyes. “All right. Let’s go.”

 


See what people are saying about the Cowboy Cocktail series:

“Mia Hopkins knows how to put characters on a page.”  – HEROES AND HEARTBREAKERS

“Mia Hopkins is an imaginative author who doesn’t take the easy road to a formulaic book.”
– USA TODAY

“Sweet and filthy at the same time, just the way I like it. This book made me so happy.”

– READ ALL THE ROMANCE

“The writing is excellent, the emotions leap off the page, and the sex is downright earthy.”
– JILL SORENSON, AUTHOR

“Beautifully descriptive…hot, sexy and full of yearning!”  – DELILAH DEVLIN, AUTHOR

“Off the charts hot.”  – THE ROMANCE STUDIO

 “A tantalizing slow seduction of the senses.” – STRANGE CANDY REVIEWS

“Hopkins packs a lot of heat and romance on the pages…Caution: hot, sexy times ahead!”

– READER GIRLS BLOG

 “Filled with sizzling chemistry, hot sex, and just enough sweetness to leave me wanting more…And those sex scenes…Holy hotness!”  – CRYSTAL BLOGS BOOKS


BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

I loved Cowboy Rising. Daniel wasn’t anything like I expected and Georgia was a great female lead!
The spark and connection between them was hot and obvious from their first time together.
He was such a loyal person. He gave up a lot to help his family, regardless of the loss and disappointment inflicted.

Daniel was younger than Georgia but much more mature than some guys older than him, given his responsibility and commitments at home, and that made him more attractive I think! He was thoughtful, interesting to get to know and attentive when it came to Georgia.
Gigi didn’t have much of a family to speak of. She was a bit of a drifter, moving where work was but it did seem like she was missing out on something by never putting down roots. She was interesting, fun and adventurous, had a big heart and I loved how she managed to bring out the best in Danny!

I’m actually kinda glad I didn’t get round to reading the others in the series yet as this is a prequel to the other books. I loved catching glimpses of Daniel’s brothers and parents and seeing the bond and love they shared.

Low on angst, hot, sexy, sweet, heartwarming and well written – as you’d expect from Mia!! – this was a really great read (I especially FLOVED the ending!) and I’m gonna go now and read the others in the series that I haven’t yet checked out – even though I’ve got an ARC list like no-one’s business to deal with!!

A solid 5* read for me and one I’d definitely recommend!


Check out the other books in The Cowboy Cocktail series!

valent
Forget chocolate and flowers. This homegrown honey is all the sweetness he craves.

Small-town life is nothing but a waiting room for eighteen-year-old honor student Corazón Gomez. Work and school leave little time for love, but with a full-ride Ivy League scholarship and a one-way ticket out of the boondocks, who needs it?

The answer appears on Valentine’s Day when her old cowboy crush ambles into the ice cream parlor where she works, inviting her to go on a late-night ride in his truck. For the first time she wavers between staying on the straight and narrow, and going off-road with the handsome heartbreaker.

After four years working on ranches all over the country, Caleb MacKinnon is back on the family farm helping out his mom and brothers while his father fights cancer. The one bright spot: smart, funny, and wickedly sexy Cora.

From the start, they both know this blazing-hot love affair can’t last. But when autumn comes and Cora has to leave for the East Coast, Caleb must find a solution to keep himself—and his heart—from falling apart.

Warning: Contains hard, cherry-poppin’ sex in a pickup truck and a cowboy charmer who talks dirty in two languages.

 

Book 1 Available at: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Google Books | Kobo | BAM


 

ressur
Ball-busting business woman meets no-holds-barred cowboy. He’s gonna need a longer rope…

Marketing hotshot Monica Kaur has put her big-city life on hold to help bail out her brother’s failing business. Now she’s got three months to plan and promote a rodeo, the first her tiny hometown has ever seen.

To ensure the rodeo’s success, Monica enlists a local hero, a rancher’s son who’s made a name for himself on the bull-riding circuit. Problem? She can’t stop daydreaming about the cocky bastard—and all the things she longs to do to him out behind the chutes.

Professional bullfighter Dean MacKinnon is home helping his family while his father fights cancer. Haunted by bad memories, jaded by love, Dean finds escape in a no-strings-attached go-round with brainy, sexy Monica, whose close-knit Sikh-American family would sooner run him out of town than see her with a notorious rodeo Romeo.

In private, Monica and Dean play as hard as they work. But as the rodeo draws near, that clean break they promised each other is getting more and more hung up in the rigging.

 

Book 2 Available at:  Amazon  |  B&N  |  iBooksKobo  | Goodreads


player
For eight years, Melody Santos played the game of love and lost—big time. Now she’s back in her tiny hometown looking after her younger sister, making ends meet with an assortment of odd jobs. When her childhood best friend hires her to help him sell his family’s grass-fed beef, the last thing she anticipates is falling in lust with the legendary, brown-eyed player.

To put his family’s cattle ranch back in the black, Clark MacKinnon has his sights set on big contracts—gourmet chefs and restaurateurs. If that means long hours traveling from farmer’s market to farmer’s market, Clark doesn’t mind. Particularly since his new assistant is his childhood crush, all grown up and sexy as hell.

One night in bed leaves them breathless and hungry for more. But when his love-’em-and-leave-’em reputation collides with her trust issues, Clark and Melody must face the truth about what they’ve become: not friends, not lovers, but players in a game that’s impossible to win.

Warning: Contains filthy banter, raunchy sex, excessive Johnny Cash references, and hundreds of pounds of raw beef.


Book 3 Available at
: Amazon | Kobo | iTunes | B&N | Samhain | AllRomance | Google Play | Books-A-Million Goodreads


karma
When Harmony Santos’s boyfriend dumps her on her birthday, she doesn’t get mad. She gets lucky…with a mysterious cowboy whose bedroom eyes and rough edges bring out her inner bad girl. But when their one-night rodeo turns into more than a rebound, Harmony worries her heart hasn’t healed enough to take on someone new—even if that someone is as sweet as he is sexy.

Tie-down roper Lucky Garcia can’t believe his good fortune. A shot at national finals and now this—his longtime crush, in his arms at last. The more time he spends with Harmony, the harder he falls for her. But financial demands and family responsibilities take him further and further away from her—as does his secret fear she hasn’t quite gotten over her dickhead ex.

Behind closed doors, Lucky and Harmony are filthy perfection. But when reality comes knocking, the star-crossed lovers must decide: walk away intact, or risk it all for a chance at happiness.

Warning: Get ready for rope tricks, spanking, self-pleasure, and a smoking-hot cowboy who puts the big D in Dominant.

 

Book 4 Available at: Amazon | Goodreads


 Author Bio:mia

Mia Hopkins writes lush romances starring fun, sexy characters who love to get down and dirty. She’s a sucker for working class heroes, brainy heroines and wisecracking best friends.

When she’s not lost in a story, Mia spends her time cooking, gardening, traveling, volunteering and looking for her keys. In a past life, she was a classroom teacher and still has a pretty good “teacher voice” and “teacher stare.”

She lives in the heart of Los Angeles with her roguish husband and two waggish dogs.
You can also visit her online at the following places:

 

Website Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Goodreads | Pintrest Instagram


 

SALE PROMO ~ Stripping Her Defenses (Ex Ops Series #2) by Jessie Lane

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Stripping Her Defenses – Released – October 31, 2014

 

You Tube Video link

Goodreads page:  

Website Page: 


Available to purchase at:

Amazon:  

All Romance Ebooks:  

Barnes & Noble:  

Kobo:  

iBooks: 

Amazon UK: 

iBooks UK: 

Amazon CA: 

Amazon AU: 

iBooks UK:

 



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Book Blurb:

He can’t change the scars on her body…
but fate will give him a second chance to mend the scars he put on her heart.

Riley Sullivan and the Ex Ops Team are headed to Miami undercover… as bikers. Following up a lead, the men will perform their investigation acting as members of the Regulators Motorcycle Club with the club’s permission. Surrounded by hardcore bikers and investigating missing strippers, Riley finds the last person he ever expected to see again—his ex-wife.

Kara Sullivan left the man she loved after a tragic accident cost them their unborn son. After years of therapy, she’s come to grips with the loss and has re-emerged from the pain a brand new person. That doesn’t mean she’s ready to face the man who inadvertently broke her heart, and who she’s hurt in return.

Riley has never stopped loving her and he never will. He’s ready to fix their marriage and move on with their lives, however Kara’s reluctance to renew their relationship isn’t their only problem. Danger lurks just around the corner… and there’s a chance she could disappear permanently.


This is the second book in Jessie Lane’s best-selling romantic suspense Ex Ops Series! It is also loosely connected to her other best-selling series Regulators MC co-written with USA Today Bestselling Author Chelsea Camaron.

 


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Reading Order

Ex Ops Series

Secret Maneuvers

Stripping Her Defenses

Mission Delivery

Sweet Agony

Sweet Recovery

Sweet Eternity (coming soon!)

Regulators MC Series

Ice

Hammer

Coal (coming soon!)


 

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 Excerpt:

Closing my eyes, I savored the haunting rock chords as the notes seemed to seep into me, calming my internal storm.

Halfway through the song, I heard movement behind me, the soft footsteps of a body coming down the stairs. I assumed it was Dec when nobody asked me to shut up so they could sleep. Nothing more was heard for the next few chords; as a result, I assumed he’d turned around and gone back upstairs to his hook up. My brother would know, if he found me down here playing like this, at this God-awful time in the morning, it was probably best to leave me alone.

Instead of stopping when the song was over, I slid into one of my father’s favorites next. The almost jazzy, soulful rock sound caused me to drift even further away in my mind. A distant part of me hoped to stay lost in the space forever.

I would have stayed there, too, if it hadn’t been for the husky feminine voice that started singing. If not for my seal training, I probably would have jumped straight up in the air like a startled cat.

Teagan had quietly snuck up on me in my solitude and sat on the sofa catty-corner, facing me. My eyebrows shot up in surprise to see her, of all people, but I managed to keep playing without missing a note as she crooned words with a sultry voice which had goose bumps popping up all over my body.

My father was a gamblin’ man

Down in New Orleans.

 

Now the only thing a gambler needs

Is a suitcase and trunk.

And the only time he’s satisfied

Is when he’s on a drunk.

 

Oh, mother tell your children

Not to do what I have done.

Spend your lives in sin and misery

In the House of the Rising Sun.

 

Well, I got one foot on the platform

The other foot on the train.

I’m goin’ back to New Orleans

To wear that ball and chain.

 

Well, there is a house in New Orleans

They call the Rising Sun.

And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy

And God I know I’m one.

 

By the end of the song, I was glued to the sight of the tiny woman who had been singing with such feeling that her head was tipped back, eyes closed, and the look on her face was nothing short of heartbreaking. Why Teagan was in the Marine Corps and not on some stage making her living, I had no damn idea. Her voice was one of the most amazing things I’d ever heard.

Her smoky voice brought me out of my contemplation. “That’s an awfully sad song to be playing this early in the morning, Riley.”

Pursing my lips, I grabbed a new death stick out of my pack and lit it up, taking a big inhale before responding to the inquisitive redhead “That’s an awfully sad song for you to know by heart, Teagan.”

She nodded her head in silent agreement.

Tipping my head to the side, I took in her rather put together appearance without letting my surprise show on my face. It couldn’t be but three-forty in the morning by now. What in the world was Teagan doing fully dressed, as if ready to walk out the door, instead of still sleeping soundly next to her lover?

“Surprised to see you here. Didn’t know you were in town. You’re up kind of early, aren’t you?”

“Same could be said of you, Sullivan. Being up early, that is.”

When she didn’t further elaborate, I responded, “Well, I know why I’m up. What’s your excuse?”

She snorted back at me. “Last time I checked, I didn’t need an excuse to leave a man’s house. Your brother knows the score. Don’t worry about his heart being all broken up over me.”

I laughed. “No morning nookie for Dec, huh?”

An unexpected, charming blush slid up her neck and eventually covered her cheeks. “Nope. No morning nookie for Declan. In fact, I should be going.”

“What’s the rush, Teagan? You’re trying to run out of here like a scared rabbit.”

Sitting forward, she rested her elbows on her legs and seemed to consider me for a minute. Extending one finger out in my direction, she waved it in a bit of a circle at me and then asked, “You want to talk about that? The reason why you’re down here before the sun is up, all by yourself, playing sad songs and lookin’ like someone just ran over your dog?”

Taking another deep drag off my cigarette, I questioned back, “Are you deflecting because you don’t want to answer me, or is this a tit for tat scenario you’re going for?”

She shrugged. “A bit of both to be honest. But if you’re willing to answer, so am I.”

Looking back down to my guitar, I started strumming another song. “I had a dream about my wife that woke me up. Couldn’t go back to sleep after that.”

“And why would a dream about your wife cause you to dread sleeping again?”

“Because they remind me of what I’ve lost. I don’t need those reminders. I live with them every second I’m awake.”

She was silent for a second before she asked, “Is your wife dead?”

The frank question from her surprised me. “No, she’s very much alive.”

“Then what is it you’ve lost, Riley?”

Stopping my strumming fingers, I waved around to our deathly still surroundings. “Do you see her here with me? Don’t you think if I still had her, I’d be in bed with her and not down here like some heartbroken jackass?”

“If she’s not dead, then take a page out of Bobby’s book and try to fix whatever it is you think is broken. Then she could be here, instead of you sitting down here like a self-induced dumbass.”

Shooting her annoyed look, I snapped, “I tried to fucking fix it, and I couldn’t.”

“I thought you Sullivans were made of sterner stuff. I didn’t know any of you could be described as quitters.”

“Says the woman who’s practically running out of my brother’s house instead of facing him the morning after having another one-night stand with him.”

Rolling her eyes, Teagan huffed. “Your brother’s not in love with me, dummy. I doubt anyone would find him sitting in the dark at the crack of dawn, picking chords on a fucking guitar and pining away for me. You, on the other hand, are doing just that for your wife, which means maybe you should be thinking about trying to patch up things with her instead of sitting down here and feeling sorry for yourself.” Teagan got up from the couch and headed past me towards the front door.

I stopped her right before she was ready to walk out by asking, “How do you know my brother’s not in love with you?”

“Because that man isn’t capable of loving a woman more than he loves his own dick right now. And that works just fine for me because I don’t believe in love at all. And that, by the way, is also the answer to all the other questions you asked me this morning. Now we’re even.”

With that, the door closed softly behind her, and I was once again left by myself with nothing to keep me company other than a small crackling fire, my now silent guitar, and new ‘if onlys’ about what I could have done differently to have won back my Kara.

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 About the Author6150577

Jessie Lane is a best-selling author of Paranormal and Contemporary Romance, as well as, Upper YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy.

She lives in Kentucky with her two little Rock Chicks in-the-making and her over protective alpha husband that she’s pretty sure is a latent grizzly bear shifter. She has a passionate love for reading and writing naughty romance, cliff hanging suspense, and out-of-this-world characters that demand your attention, or threaten to slap you around until you do pay attention to them.

She’s also a proud member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA).

You can follow Jessie at: Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, & her Amazon Author Page


 

RE-RELEASE BLITZ ~ Dangerous Love (Unforgiven #1) by Liz Lovelock

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

Title: Dangerous Love

Series: Unforgiven #1

Author: Liz Lovelock

 

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover Design: Letitia, RBA Designs 
Release Date: August 11, 2016

  

Blurb
 

Jay Jones, a first-rate police officer, is given a new undercover assignment which forces her to reassess her insecurities and to build a relationship of trust with her new partner. He’s the one man she thought she’d never see again. A man who once held her happiness and then took it with him when he left, Brayden Falcone.

Years after suffering a significant loss, Jay remains guarded. The pain of getting hurt still haunts her. She holds a secret so great, it eats away at her happiness. She wants to tell Brayden all about what they both lost. But, all she remembers is the loneliness she felt and, the heartbreak she suffered.

Working closely with Brayden, she knows he’s the one person who can save her from the hellish crimes she’s about to witness.

But Jay isn’t the only one who’s keeping secrets.

 

 

 


 

Purchase Links

 

AMAZON: US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS

 


 


Excerpt


Despite the heartbreak he caused me, the feelings I had for him have never completely disappeared. Reduced, definitely, but they’re still there. A first love leaves a special imprint on one’s heart. There was so much good with us, but also so much bad, and Brayden left me with a view that love will always be tainted. The L word is now a dirty word and something I’m incapable of. Serious relationships are non-existent in my life. He made sure he destroyed them for me, just like he shattered my happiness.

Relaxing into my pillows and releasing a breath, I try to calm my racing heart. Closing my eyes, I silently hope and pray that I will sleep better for the rest of the night. As I begin to settle in, a strange sensation prickles over my already clammy skin.

Someone’s watching me.

My eyes open slightly and move to a dark silhouette standing in my doorway. Panic begins to take over, and my machines beep crazily once again. Fumbling for my buzzer, I know I need a nurse, but as I hold the device in my hands my eyes catch the doorway, and the silhouette is gone. 


 

 
Author Bio
 
 

Liz Lovelock is from bright sunny Queensland in Australia. She is the mother of three little monsters, a wife to an amazing husband and very much a lover of everything books and reading. Liz has always loved books and, from a very young age she began reading comic books and then in high school her passion grew. She was given Tomorrow When The War Began by John Marsden for an assignment but, when that was done she continued to discover new books to fall in love with.
Liz always has a book she is currently enjoying and, a notebook beside her bed for in her hand bag for when inspiration hits at those crazy times. She is a stationary addict and will buy more notebooks and pens then what she needs. Her one click finger likes to go crazy as well.

 
 
Author Links
 

PROMO TOUR ~ Sweet Cheeks by K. Bromberg

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An all new second chance love story by the New York Times Bestselling author of the Driven series.


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Sweet Cheeks
by K. Bromberg

is NOW LIVE!

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Amazon US: 

Amazon UK: 

Paperback: 

iBooks: 

B&N: 

Kobo: 

Audible:  

 



Blurb:

 

It all started with the invitation. To my ex-fiance’s new wedding.

I should have ignored it. Thrown it away. Set it afire. But I didn’t. I replied.

With a plus one.

And then my assistant accidentally mailed it.

Enter Hayes Whitley. Mega-movie star. The man who has captured the hearts of millions. But I gave him mine years ago. He was my first love. He was my everything. Right until he up and left to chase his dreams without so much as a simple goodbye.

When he showed up out of the blue ten years later, I should have known to steer clear. I should have rejected his offer to take me to my ex’s wedding. I should have never let him kiss me.

But I didn’t.

And now we’re left wondering if the pieces of the life we once shared still fit together somehow. First loves are hard to forget. The question is, do we want to forget? Or do we risk the chance and see what happens next?

 


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Excerpt

I hear my name. I think I do anyway, and it distracts me enough momentarily that Hayes is able to grab and pull me tighter into him, the cupcake now inches from my face.

We stare at each other in a silent standoff, hearts racing and eyes daring. His gaze flickers over my shoulder and then back to mine as I prepare myself for the smash.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead he eases up and only dabs the frosting against the tip of my nose.

I sigh in relief.

Then gasp out in shock.

Because Hayes’s lips are on mine.

And not just a friendly peck. Not hardly. The hand that held the cupcake is now empty. Chocolate fallen by the wayside for a kiss. His fingers, sticky with frosting, are on my cheeks directing my face. But there’s no thought of the frosting he’ll get on my face or how funny it’s going to look when we walk back to our villa because all I can think about is Hayes.

I could tell myself I part my lips—grant him access—because I’m winded and need to breathe, but that would be a lie. Because the minute his tongue dances against mine, all I want to do is drown in his kiss. In the familiarity of it. In the difference of it. The unexpectedness of it. The comfort of it. In everything about him.

Hayes Whitley is kissing me. Again.

Finally.

His fingers are possessive—on the underside of my jaw and the small of my back—and the soft groan he emits communicates everything his lips are expressing and more.

His taste consumes me. The chocolate on his tongue. The spark of desire. The lick of lust. The sense of calm riled up by an overload of emotion.

My hands slide up the plane of his back over skin heated by the sun and slick with frosting. His muscles bunch beneath my palms as he shifts the angle of the kiss.

His tongue tantalizes and torments. Begs me to want more with its tender caresses and then switches gear and demands me to keep pace. To allow him to possess and claim.

I feel in droves. Want. Need. Lust. More. Too much. Not enough. Don’t ever stop. What am I doing?

It’s just me.

And Hayes.

And the singular sensation of rightness he is making me feel. A sensation I don’t think I had ever realized was missing since he’d left, but now know I’ll never be able to live without.


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About the Author:kristy-bromberg

New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

She’s a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced, Aced), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat, and Down Shift (Releasing 10/4/16)), and a short story titled UnRaveled. She is currently finishing up Sweet Cheeks a standalone novel out at the end of 2016.

Her plans for 2017 include a sports romance duet (The Player (#1) and The Catch (#2)) and the Everyday Heroes series (Cuffed (#1), Combust (#2), and Cockpit (#3). She’s also writing a novella for the 1,001 Dark Night series that will be out in February 2017.
She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon


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DOUBLE COVER REVEAL ~ Put Out and Beard Mode by Lani Lynn Vale

 
   

DOUBLE COVER REVEAL
by Lani Lynn Vale
 

Title: Put Out
Series: Kilgore Fire Series #5

Genre: Romantic Suspense

 

Release Date: January 26, 2017
Cover Model: Matthew Hosea
Photographer: Furious Fotog
 
 

 



Angie is a survivor. Anything you could throw at her, she could overcome.

 
After her father left her like a pile of unwanted trash, she began fighting. Fighting to build a life. Fighting to keep her child. Fighting to matter.

She thought she had it all figured out.

Then Bowen Race Tannenbaum walks into her life, turning it into a flurry of confusion, hope, and then ultimately despair. He tore down, brick-by-brick, her carefully constructed world, leaving her heart in tatters and longing for more. Such as a happily ever after, something that wasn’t ever going to happen for her. Not when she couldn’t give him what he wanted. He’d break her, and she couldn’t be put back together a second time.
 
Bowe wasn’t always so jaded, but when you keep drawing a losing hand, it tends to affect a man. He didn’t mean to lash out so carelessly. But he was so over being told no. He was done being lied to. He was through with being cheated on.

This time, his heart was getting what it wanted. If Angie wasn’t able to see what he was offering, what was right here in front of her, well then, he’d just have to damn well show her.
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
“What’s wrong with you?”  Booth asked, following me.
I turned my head only far enough so he could see my glare.
Obviously, though, the glare didn’t’ have the intended affect when he continued to walk into the room, parking his ass in the bunk straight across from mine.
Sure, the bunk was his, and I wasn’t the only one who shared this room, but I wasn’t up for any chatter. Especially after the night I’d had.
“You gonna make me guess?” He continued as if I wasn’t ignoring him.
“You’re a persistent bastard,” I grumbled, turning my head to face the wall.
“Come on, you know you want to talk to your best friend, Booth.”  He teased.
I tossed the man a look.
“You’re not my best friend.”  I told him.
He pouted, and I sighed, rolling until I was on my back, very carefully since it seemed the bed was about the same width as my back.
“I’ve completely and utterly failed in getting the woman I want to go out with me to even hold a conversation with me for longer than a minute.” I told him.  “I saw her last night—with another man—and I don’t know what to do to get her to see me.”
Booth’s mouth fell open.
“You’re shitting me.”
I shook my head, feeling heat hit my face as I did.
“No.”
“But…you’re the dream boat.  You’re the man that Masen tells me all the time is the hottest guy at the firehouse. You literally could have anyone that you wanted.  What’s the deal?”  He kicked his feet up so they were resting on the side of mine.
“Nothing to tell.  I’m just…awkward.”
“Awkward, how?”  He persisted.  “Awkward as in you can’t talk to a woman awkward, or awkward in which you accidentally whip your dick out of your pants to break the ice instead of using your big boy words?”
I tossed him a look.  “She was shot…or something. I have the girl in the back of the ambulance with her shirt off and all I can do is stare at the scars on her abdomen. My staring kept me from asking her anything when I had the chance. Now that I’ve decided that she’s worth losing my favorite mechanic’s trust, I’ve done everything I could to speak with her, and she still ignores me.”
“Where does she work?”  He asked.
“The hospital and for her brother.  You know her.”  I cleared my throat. “It’s Angie.”
Booth stared at me for all of two seconds before he fell backwards to the cot.
“You’re doomed.”
I laughed, zero humor in my voice.
“Yeah, I know.”
The tones dropped indicating a call was coming through for us.
We both paused in our conversations, and I cursed when I heard what it was.
“Mother fucker.” I sighed.  “This has to be a fucking joke.”
Booth’s face showed the way he felt about the call that had come in just like I was sure mine was as well.
“This is some fucking cosmic joke, isn’t it?”  I asked.
“Sorry buddy.”
Hurrying to my feet, I jogged lightly to the bay where my turnout gear was located.
Despite this being a medical call, we were still required to put our gear on.
 
Which was why I was sweating my balls off when we finally arrived at Soco Garage, the very same garage that none other than Angie Soco also worked.
 
 

 


 

 

Title: Beard Mode
Series: The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC Series #1

Genre: MC Romance

 

Release Date: February 23, 2017
Cover Model: David Byers
Photographer: Michael Stokes
 
 
 


Aaron don’t ever call me Fatbaby’ Sims is lucky to be alive. Or at least that is what everyone keeps telling him. He doesn’t feel lucky, though.

He’s scarred, has more than a little bit of a bad attitude, and there isn’t a single day that goes by that he doesn’t wish his wife would’ve just finished off the job.

After being denied his old position at the fire department, he leaves, and doesn’t look back. He heads straight to Alabama and into the semi-welcoming arms of The Dixie Wardens MC. There he becomes a part of a brotherhood that forces him to get back in the land of the living.


Imogen is a smart girl. A girl who doesn’t always make the best decisions.

Her heart is in the right place when she walks into that prison, but it doesn’t take long for her to realize that her heart shouldn’t have had any say so in the matter. Especially when one wrong move lands her in the arms of a scarred man that looks frightening enough to scare any sane woman away.

Immediately enthralled by the angry man, she tries to get closer to him. But the harder she tries to get to know him, the further he pushes her away.


The only thing Aaron wanted to do after his now ex-wife was sent to jail was escape. Escape the awful memories. The pity-filled eyes. The curious glances.

He does a damn fine job at ensuring he draws as little as attention as possible, but then that annoying woman with her startling blue eyes starts hammering away at his resolve. Makes him feel when he doesn’t want to feel.

Imogen comes into his life and carves out a place for herself, obliterating his defenses one heated kiss at a time.

It doesn’t take long, and he realizes he’s in deep. Too deep to ever want to come out.

Imogen will know what it’s like to be loved by a reject.
 
 
 

“New guy.”  Someone muttered behind me.
I turned only my head to find Stone, the president, staring at me with hard eyes.
“Yeah?” I asked him, dropping my bag on the floor and heading in his direction instead of out the door like I’d originally intended.
“You’re here because you have a special set of skills that we need.”  The leader of the band of misfits, Stone, drawled.
I nearly laughed.
“That sounds like a bad line out of a movie.” I muttered, wondering where he was going with this.
He tossed me a glare and then yelled.
“Truth!”  Stone yelled.  “Ghost! Get the fuck in here!”
Ghost and Truth walked in the door at the same time, both of them turning to the side to walk inside, and stared at Stone
“Ghost, hold Truth down so New Guy can give him the fuckin’ shot.” Stone grumbled.
Ghost tackled Truth and wrestled him to the desk, then sat on him while Stone leaned back and watched.
“No, motherfucker!” Truth yelled.  “I don’t want it!”
“It’s the fuckin’ flu shot, you dumb shit.  Not a fuckin’ tracking device. Take a fuckin’ chill pill.”  Stone grumbled, staring at the scuffle that was going down in front of him.
I picked up the syringe from the table, similar to the one I’d given everybody else’s flu shot with, and stabbed it in the meat of Truth’s arm.
Truth bellowed in rage, and I flipped the guard up on the syringe before tossing it into the trash can.
“Done?” I asked Stone.  “I have to get to work.”
Stone nodded.
“Yeah, thanks.” He nodded. “Have fun at the nut house.”
I grunted something unintelligible, causing him to laugh.
“Don’t sound so excited.” He laughed.
I flipped him off and walked out the door just as Ghost was letting Truth up
“Why you gotta be such a big motherfucker?”  Truth growled.  “If you’d been anyone else, I’d have gotten away.”
“Why do you think I called Ghost instead of anyone else?”  I heard Stone reply.
 

 


 


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 ~ Words I Couldn’t Say (Promise in Prose #1) by Tessa Teevan

Title: Words I Couldn’t Say

Series: Promise in Prose #1

Author: Tessa Teevan

 

Release Date: Nov 22, 2016

Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance

Photo Credit: Sara Eirew Photography

 

 
 
You know the old adage “if you love something, set it free?”
It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.
The dumbest thing I’ve ever done.
I loved her. I lost her. Hell, I let her go. And then spent five miserable years without her.
To cope with the loss, I put pen to paper and wrote her a love story, knowing when she was ready she’d hear the words I couldn’t say all those years ago.
Turned out, not only would she hear them, but when Hollywood came calling, I made sure she got the lead role. After all, no one else could portray the character whom she’d inspired.
Now she’s within arms’ reach and finally, she’ll know the truth in my heart.
Because that other cliché, “Actions speak louder than words?”
I’m going to prove it.
My words may have brought Ava Banks back into my life; I have to be enough to make her stay.
 
 

 


 


 
 
The air around us was silent save for the crickets chirping off in the distance. The cool Cincinnati breeze nipped at my skin while I waited for his reaction. When I’d started writing this novel, it had been an ode to my past love. My past life. But then it’d taken on a life of its own and become so much more. Which had made it that much more poignant. That much harder to fathom the one word that’d been haunting me for years.
 
Goodbye.
 
At long last, he turned to the final page and sucked in a breath. My stomach twisted in knots because he was about to read the end. And I didn’t know how he’d interpret it. Half scared he’d tell me that I’d lost my mind and no one would ever want to read this story, especially with that ending.
 
He didn’t make me wait long. As his head slowly rose, I was taken aback at the tears shining in his usually cheerful eyes. This man, who had always been like a second father to me, had been reduced to tears by my words. My words. Words we both knew for whom they were meant. And, instead of calling me a fool or attempting to kill me, he watched me with tearful appreciation, switching between nodding and shaking his head as if trying to process it all.
 
I didn’t know how to react, so I simply stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
 
He closed the manuscript and set it on the table in front of us before taking a long swig from his whiskey glass. I followed suit and enjoyed the smoky burn that did little to soothe my nerves.
 
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his eyes locking in on mine. “Tucker. You did it. You fucking did it,” he whispered, seemingly unashamed of his emotional display.
 
I nodded, the same emotion welling up inside me when I remembered the ending of my first novel. So many love stories begin with the girl who got away. Mine wasn’t any different. Not only in my novel, but in real life as well. Ava Banks was, and always would be, that girl for me. But, instead of slipping through my fingers, she’d made the conscious decision to leave. And, like most dumbass men, I’d let her. Hell, I’d pushed her away. I’d regretted it ever since.
 
But, now, I was hoping like hell I could get the second chance Trevor did. Hoping like hell my story would turn out differently than his. But, either way, I was putting myself out there, as terrifying as that was. She finally, finally would hear the words I couldn’t say all those years ago.
 
Now, I just had to wait to see what she’d do about it. 

 


 
 

 



 
 
Tessa Teevan is a twenty-something book junkie who is also obsessed with sports. Bengals, Buckeyes, Reds are who she spends her time rooting for. She’s a research analyst by day, reads/writes by night, and is married to a guy 15 inches taller than her, making them quite the pair! They currently reside just outside of Dayton, OH with two adorably grumpy cats. 
 
If she’s not writing or scouring through tons of photos of hot men, all in the name of research, then you can probably find her curled up with her Kindle, ignoring the rest of the world. She loves her sports almost as much as she loves her books. Her other obsessions include red wine, hot men, rock music, and all things Corey Taylor. 
 
She adores hearing from readers, so please feel free to contact via any social media site listed below. 
 
  

 

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