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BLOG TOUR ~ Clouded Hell by J.R. Gray

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I survive on avoidance. Physical pain to avoid the mental. Disposable flesh to avoid relationships. Work to avoid attachment. My club became my empire of avoidance. Inside the ring millions are won and lost. The fight is confined to breaths, actions and reactions, fists and pain. Rules don’t exist. Only my opponent exists.

I’d been avoiding my needs for far too long when Remi stumbles into the Inferno and I’m hungry. The promise of a submissive with no attachment is far too tempting. I can’t resist him. He was only supposed to be a distraction, but I know I’ll never get over him. There isn’t a chance in this clouded hell.

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Excerpt

“It’s fucking hell being with you. Has anyone ever told you that?”

His grin broadened. “The whole world is hell, doll. At least with me you get a reprieve from the sun.”

“So this is hell at night?”

“I like to think of it as Clouded Hell. One of the rare cool days you’ve got to hold on to when everything else won’t quit.”

He lifted his hand again, and instead of smacking me like I expected, he cupped my cheek and brought his forehead to mine. I fucking melted, right there in his inner circle of hell, and I wouldn’t have changed it.

 


 

About J.R. Gray

When not staying up all night writing, J.R. Gray can be found at the gym where it’s half assumed he is a permanent resident to fulfill his self-inflicted masochism. A dominant and a pilot, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. He frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns and conversations, to jot down notes or plot bunnies. Commas are the bane of his existence even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder. If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave, insanity or both. The idea of haunting has always appealed to him. J.R. Gray is genderqueer and prefers he/him pronouns.

 

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BLOG TOUR – Undone by Callie Harper

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Undone Vol. 1

 

 

Take one bad boy rock god. Mix slowly with one wholesome librarian. Add a dash of paparazzi, a twist of scandal, and you won’t believe how good this dish tastes.

Ash
It’s pretty easy being a rock god. Party. Perform. P*ssy. Repeat. I’m 26 and it’s worked for me for years. Until I was caught ripping out the heart of America’s Sweetheart in a video gone viral. Now #HatePlayerAsh is trending on Twitter, she’s writing a song about how much I suck and I’m in desperate need image rehab, fast.
Good thing paparazzi chased me into that library. Had I not ducked under that desk I never would have found myself next to the long, sexy legs and disapproving gaze of Anika Ivanov. In my world of use and get used, she’s a unicorn. A kind, 24-year-old, hard-working, family-oriented children’s librarian. My agent agrees, she’s the one to set everything right. All she needs to do is fake a month-long public romance, let the world see me fall hard for her, then dump me in a brutal, public display. It’s genius.
Now I just have to convince her to agree. And convince myself that the only reason I want to spend the month with her is to improve my image. It’s not her full, luscious lips or her soft, seductive laugh or those fantasies I keep having of tying her down to my bed as I make her quiver and pant and call out my name.

Ana
Ash Black. In my library. Under my desk. It’s hard to believe it happened. I’ve listened to his voice so many times, my favorite soundtrack as I walk the streets of New York. My secret bad boy crush, the smoldering, shirtless star of the tabloids, all muscles and tattoos. Then one day he shows up and kisses me in my break room.
What’s even crazier is how he wants me to spend the next month. At his shows in L.A., San Francisco and Vegas, candlelight dinners in New York and Paris. He wants the world to believe he’s fallen in love. With me.
I’ve got to say no. He’s a walking disaster with a dirty mouth and wicked hands that melt my panties right off of me. This month would take everything in my well-ordered, neat little life and shake it up like a snowglobe.
Then why am I so tempted to say yes?

NOTE: Undone is a three-volume hot adult romance. It’s the second story in the Beg for It series about the dominant, alpha males in Ash’s family and the strong, sexy women who make them finally meet their match.

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Excerpt

Aw, fuck. My head hurt like someone had cut it open with a broken bottle. Maybe someone had? I brought my hand up, tentative. Nope, everything intact. Just my skull in the grips of a massive, relentless hangover. Nothing new. Then why did I feel like something new had happened?

With a groan, I shifted my weight on the bed and swung my legs over the side. Slow and steady, that’s how you won the race. Or moved your aching, hard-partying body the morning after an epic night of tearing through Vegas. Much like the night before and the night before that. People expected nothing less from hotter-than-hell rock god Ash Black. Trashed hotel rooms, run-ins with paparazzi, X-rated scenes with starlets, I did it all while strutting around in leather pants and no shirt, my world-famous muscles and tats on full display. I always delivered.

But something else had happened last night. My mouth tasted like soot and my head felt stuffed with cotton balls, the scratchy, cheap kind. I couldn’t remember. What was it?

Behind me, a feminine grunt emerged beneath wrinkled sheets. Strands of dark hair splayed across a pillow. Mandy Monroe, America’s sweetheart aka my plaything at the moment, had blonde hair. Huh. I thought we’d been hanging out last night.

Like a goddamned chainsaw, my goddamned phone buzzed with an incoming call. All the goddamned way across the hotel room. No way was I going to make it that far.

Down on the floor between my feet I spotted a tied-off used condom. So there was that. Wasted as I got, I used protection on autopilot. The world already had its hands full with just one Ash Black. No one needed any little Ashes running around. My cock got out and played each and every night, but procreation? Not going to happen.

The mystery woman next to me snorted in her sleep. What was she doing still in my bed? I liked my fun over and out—as in out of the room by the time I woke up. I pulled the sheet down.

Ah, yes, I remembered those tits, as big and gorgeous as only a plastic surgeon could shape them. I remembered them bouncing up and down as she rode me last night. I usually liked to dominate, play games of control, but last night I’d been too wasted to do more than let her climb on and ride me like a rodeo bull.

Tugging the sheet down some more, I swatted her lightly on the ass. “Up and out, Buttercup.”

Groaning, she opened her eyes. Her mascara had smeared down like a Halloween costume of a zombie prom queen. “You got to get going.” I pointed toward the door. I didn’t even try to make up an excuse, something lame about needing to take care of something. I didn’t ask for her phone number as she fumbled around and found her skimpy dress, pulling it on and zipping into her thigh-high boots. I was Ash Fucking Black. I didn’t give out my digits.

“So, thanks,” she mumbled. “If you ever want to, you know—”

“Yeah.” I gave her my signature wink. Class dismissed. And what did she do when I was such an asshole? She giggled and blushed, like they all did.

I could get away with anything. And I took full advantage of it. I was 26 now, but I’d been famous since I was 19 and my band charted its first number one hit. People called us the harder-driving, U.S. version of Coldplay. We had some Green Day in us, some Fun once you cranked them up. Some compared us to the Sex Pistols or Guns ‘n’ Roses. Whatever you called it or compared it to, we made music that made you jump up, dance your ass off and bang your head against the wall. No ballads, no whining, we made screw-the-consequences, fuck-it-all-I’m-going-for-it RAWCK.

There were lots of benefits to my status. Touring the world, VIP access to anything anytime, but at the top of my list had to be the constant supply of pussy. It wasn’t as if I’d been hard-up before I’d gotten famous. My father was Richard Kavanaugh, billionaire real estate mogul and investor. I’d learned early that being rich and handsome opened up all kinds of doors and legs. But it was when I picked up a guitar as a teenager that girls really started getting crazy. Waiting for me naked in my bed. Texting me videos of them making out with their girlfriends or playing with themselves as they thought of me.

By now, I’d gotten so used to the whole sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll routine it was almost boring. I was almost tired of it. Almost. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t playing a tiny violin of pity for myself. I was having the time of my life. Every night.

That was it, though. With the exact same shit every different day, every now and then in the midst of the wild and crazy carnival I’d have a whisper of a doubt. I’d look around and think, is that all there is? Then I’d do a show and get wasted and fuck groupies and nothing would matter all over again.

I’d been the bad boy for a long time now, my whole life really. I’d started off the black sheep in my family, doing nothing right in my father’s eyes, dark in my perfect older brother’s chip-off-the-old-block’s shadow. Then as the rocker, I’d become the poster boy for devil-may-care defiance. I’d spent years riding that long wave of adolescent rebellion while I proudly held up my middle finger.

Sometimes I wondered what it would feel like to stop. Get off the crazy train. Be still and silent for even a moment.

When media darling Mandy Monroe and I first got together a couple months ago, I’ll admit it, I’d been curious about her. Everyone knew her story, the daughter of a coal miner from West Virginia discovered on American Idol. Seventeen years old and singing her heart out with those big, brown eyes and long blonde hair, the world had fallen in love with her. I’d wondered, maybe it would be different with her? She’d certainly grown up outside the bubbles I’d lived in my whole life. Maybe she’d be real?

I didn’t know what kind of person Mandy had been at 17. But at 22, the Mandy I got to know was as vicious and shrewd as they came, always angling for the right PR shot, constantly scheming about how to stay on top of the headlines. It hadn’t taken me long to realize her sugary image had nothing to do with her sour reality. The only reason things had dragged on as long as they had between us was we were never in the same place at the same time. Until last night. We’d gone out to dinner here in Vegas. Hadn’t we?

My phone buzzed again. With a deep down-to-the-bones groan, I stumbled across the room to retrieve it. I still didn’t get there in time to pick up. The screen announced that I had 15 missed calls, 10 from my agent, four from my PR firm, one from my older brother.

Uh-oh. My big brother never called unless it was to give me shit. I’d done something to screw up. What was it?

My phone rang again in my hand. My agent. With a sigh, I picked up.

“Yeah?” My voice creaked out, gravelly and hung-over.

If words came across visually, his would be bright red and all caps. “WHAT THE FUCK? YOU’VE FUCKED UP ROYALLY THIS TIME!”

 


Books by Callie Harper
Off Limits GR Cover

 

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Unleashed Volume 1 Cover

 

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About Callie Harper

 

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

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

She lives in the gorgeous Bay Area with her family.

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COVER REVEAL ~ Physical Distraction by Sierra Hill

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Sloane Fitzgerald was living the perfect, California-girl life. Engaged to her college boyfriend, working her dream job, and settling into her new home where she’d planned on living happily ever after. It was storybook perfect.
But life isn’t a fairytale.
Sloane’s world is suddenly rocked to the core with a devastating discovery. Needing both time away, and a distraction from her misery, Sloane heads to Boston to take over her late uncle’s failing bar.
Dylan Hemmons lives a charmed bachelor’s existence.
After serving in the Marines, Dylan returns home to the South Boston neighborhood where he grew up. While working for his father’s company has its perks, Dylan realizes his career passions lay elsewhere.
Dylan aspires for more.
He had no idea it would be in the form of a beauty from California. As their lives intersect, Sloane and Dylan find that the electricity between them is more than they can resist.
But Sloane’s past comes knocking on her door. If exposed, the secret she carries could destroy both her teaching career and what they have together.
Will Dylan believe in Sloane, and stand by her when the truth comes out? Or will this fling be over before it begins, and turn out to be just a physical distraction for them both?

 

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One More Minute Cover

Seattle is in the rearview mirror and Kenzie Daniels wants to start a new life to pursue her musical dreams in Nashville. But it’s harder than she thought trying to make it on her own with no one to rely on but herself. Until a handsome customer shows up at her table and changes the course of her future.
Remy Martins wasn’t looking for anything but a good time and a creative outlet when he stumbled upon Hank’s Diner and discovered his muse. The moment he laid eyes on Kenzie, the beautiful waitress with a chip on her shoulder, he knew his luck had turned around. He’d been in a writing slump for months and she was the spark he needed, breathing new life into his lyrics. Now Remy is determined to have Kenzie and keep her in his life.

When a chance run-in at one of his gigs has Kenzie leaning on him for support, Remy is given the opportunity to make her an offer she’d be a fool to refuse.

Just as their relationship morphs into something more, fueling a deep physical need that neither of them can deny, Kenzie’s and Remy’s pasts collide – threatening to destroy their bond along the dreams they’d hoped to fulfill.

Can Kenzie rely on Remy to be there when she needs him the most? Will both their dark pasts ruin their chances at a bright future?

 

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00072]

 

Fight-or-flight has never been a question for feisty Boston physical therapist Rylie Hemmons, until she met the man whose touch made her reconsider everything she’d worked so hard to create.

When Rylie takes on new patient Mitch Camden after his ski-accident, she is overwhelmed by a physical attraction she’s never before experienced.

Conflicted over her desire for Mitch and maintaining her professional oath, she works to keep the personal boundaries, just as Mitch is equally determined to close the distance.

At the risk of jeopardizing her career and reputation, Rylie is forced to make a life-altering decision that may have her running from what she needs most.

 

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More Than Physical Cover

Love makes you crazy. It warps your sense of direction, causing your world to shift and turn on its axis. Love is an anchor that wraps its steely chains around your heart and crushes the ever-loving life out of you.

Sasha Lee won’t suffer fools again. She’d been there, done that, and has the internal injuries to prove it. As a renowned Boston orthopedic surgeon and clinic owner, she’s worked relentlessly to help others recover from their own injuries, because she knows pain, if left unattended, will eat you alive.

Jackson “Jax” Koda loves a good challenge, because anything that comes too easy just isn’t worth it. A corporate lawyer by day, he’s one half of the esteemed Camden Ventures dynamic duo, vetting crazy deals and capitalizing on their business success. But when the work is done, his interests lie elsewhere. Music and women – both incredible elixirs for his soul and body. And his newest challenge is finding a way to get Sasha back in his bed.

When their engaged best friends call upon Sasha and Jackson to plan their joint bachelor-bachelorette party, the two find themselves at odds bickering over inconsequential details, all the while trying to figure out how to keep their fiery chemistry contained and their sexy secret under wraps.

Just one night together may not be enough to satisfy their curiosity. What started out as just physical, may just turn into something unexpectedly more

 

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The Reunion Cover

Ten years can be a long time. So much can happen in a decade after high school graduation. Dreams can be born. Careers built. Families made. Futures solidified. But for Delaney Cooper, those ten years were deplete of the love and friendship of her best friend, Evan Stansfield, whom she lost the night after graduation. That was the night she gave everything to be with Evan Stansfield and lost it all.

They were best friends. He was the charming, gorgeous bad boy and she the nerdy high school year book photographer. Despite their differences, they found a bond that made everything worthwhile. Their friendship built over time, but it took only one night to test their friendship, leaving two hearts shattered and withering for ten years – until their ten year reunion reminded them how to live again.

The question is – can they rekindle their love and allow forgiveness to forge their future together?

 

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About Sierra Hill

 

Sierra Hill wrote Physical Touch, her first full-length romance, after a corporate acquisition provided her some quality writing time during a stint of unemployment. She has always been an aspiring writer, and feels incredibly blessed to be living her dream.
When not working part-time or writing her hot, steamy novels, Sierra loves attending live concerts, and is a huge alternative music enthusiast. She and her husband even travel to various cities across North America whenever their favorite band, Pearl Jam, is on tour.
Sierra freely admits to being addicted to reading, all things chocolate, and too much coffee.

Sierra resides in the Seattle area with her husband of twenty years and her rescued (and certifiably crazy), German Shepherd dog.
She is currently busy working on her next book.

 

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CHAPTER REVEAL ~ Clouded Hell by J.R. Gray

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CloudedHellFINAL

I survive on avoidance. Physical pain to avoid the mental.
Disposable flesh to avoid relationships. Work to avoid attachment.

My club became my empire of avoidance. Inside the ring millions are won and lost. The fight is confined to breaths, actions and reactions, fists and pain. Rules don’t exist. Only my opponent exists.

I’d been avoiding my needs for far too long when Remi stumbles into the Inferno and I’m hungry. The promise of a submissive with no attachment is far too tempting. I can’t resist him.

He was only supposed to be a distraction, but I know I’ll never get over him. There isn’t a chance in this clouded hell.

Coming March 23, 2016

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Chapter One

Four hundred sweaty bodies packed into this room, and you could’ve heard a pin drop. My boots clicked on the concrete floor. It could have been a scene right out of a movie, the way the two shirtless guys circled each other, faces torn up and bleeding, hands in front of their faces, with scraps of wrapping covering swollen and bruised knuckles. I could smell the aggression.

It smelled like money.

I’d been gambling on anything and everything since I’d been given the run of the neighborhood at six. I’d grown up in Vegas, but it wasn’t silly cards I was interested in. I loved contests, where real skill was involved. I craved the tension a match brought to a room full of people. I could feed off the energy.

I watched the two thick men trade punches. One was a fair amount bigger than the other, muscled through his arms down to his massive hands. He brought a knee up just in time to block a quick kick from his opponent who I presumed to be the owner of the dive bar I stood in.

I’d had him described to me, dark hair, six feet four, and piercing blue eyes, but those details could have matched half the room. The harsh fake light defined the high arch of his cheekbones even under all the blood. I’d done my research, but there were no pictures of the guy. What told me it was Dante was the swath of planets tattooed across his left shoulder. It dripped down the back of his arm like a tragic afterthought. Everyone knew the tattoo. It was talked about, though no one knew what it symbolized. I studied anyone I planned to use. Information was gold in this business.

He was beautifully deadly, just my type. I’d been looking for him for a long time.

I took the long way around to the gambling window, keeping my eyes on the fight. Dante was quick, but I’d be surprised if he pulled off the win. It was well-known heavyweights tore up lighter guys for a reason. They could hit a lot harder and destroy even faster men. The line, at the window, had thinned when the fight got going, and I only had to wait a few moments to buy a ticket. The odds were in the opponent’s favor, so I put money on Dante.

I slipped into one of the rows and took a seat on the bleachers, kicking my feet out in front of me. It had been a long day, and my body was feeling it. I was almost thirty, and struggling with control was taxing.

Dante dodged a fist coming at his head and hit the other guy three times in the span of seconds. The crowd roared, surging like a massive organism with one mind. He didn’t pull back to avoid getting hit. He pushed the guy back with punch after punch, giving his opponent plenty of opportunity to hit him back. It was a—unique strategy. Ballsy even. Most boxers tried to avoid getting hit, unless they were masochists.

His opponent landed a right hook to Dante’s jaw causing him to stumble back a few paces. The guy charged Dante. My heart skipped a beat. I thought Dante was done for, but he regained his stance and fought off the attack.

“Fuck.” I sat forward, resting my elbows on my knees. The heat and tension in the room pressed in around me, collectively choking off all the oxygen.

Dante snarled, baring bloody teeth, and my cock twitched. I adjusted, eyes never leaving his sweat-soaked skin. All his muscle was on full display, the V of his hips cutting right down into his low-slung shorts. I wanted to be the one opposite him in the ring. I wanted him to hit me.

Dante’s body shuddered right before he attacked. He slammed his fist into the guy’s temple, and the big bloke went down hard, shaking the floor when he landed. It didn’t even need to be called. It was clear he was out cold.

Dante raised both hands in the air and growled. But he didn’t stay to celebrate. He ducked out of the ring and went right to a commanding woman who had legs a mile long that disappeared under a skirt that hugged her ass. She held a drink out to him, and I waited. Girlfriend? He was bisexual, or so I’d been told.

She didn’t touch him as they exchanged a few words. He turned and walked toward the employee door, and she followed. They disappeared, and as the crowd moved around me, getting more drinks, leaving, and cashing in tickets, I sat.

Now that I’d seen the operation, I was sure. I could be me here. If I played it right, I could steal away and hide, even if only for a short time. But he’d never know I’d been here already. It would give me the upper hand.

I could taste the freedom already.

 


 

About J.R. Gray

When not staying up all night writing, J.R. Gray can be found at the gym where it’s half assumed he is a permanent resident to fulfill his self-inflicted masochism. A dominant and a pilot, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. He frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns and conversations, to jot down notes or plot bunnies. Commas are the bane of his existence even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder. If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave, insanity or both. The idea of haunting has always appealed to him. J.R. Gray is genderqueer and prefers he/him pronouns.

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COMING SOON ~ Undone by Callie Harper

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Undone Vol. 1

 

Take one bad boy rock god. Mix slowly with one wholesome librarian. Add a dash of paparazzi, a twist of scandal, and you won’t believe how good this dish tastes.

Ash
It’s pretty easy being a rock god. Party. Perform. P*ssy. Repeat. I’m 26 and it’s worked for me for years. Until I was caught ripping out the heart of America’s Sweetheart in a video gone viral. Now #HatePlayerAsh is trending on Twitter, she’s writing a song about how much I suck and I’m in desperate need image rehab, fast.
Good thing paparazzi chased me into that library. Had I not ducked under that desk I never would have found myself next to the long, sexy legs and disapproving gaze of Anika Ivanov. In my world of use and get used, she’s a unicorn. A kind, 24-year-old, hard-working, family-oriented children’s librarian. My agent agrees, she’s the one to set everything right. All she needs to do is fake a month-long public romance, let the world see me fall hard for her, then dump me in a brutal, public display. It’s genius.
Now I just have to convince her to agree. And convince myself that the only reason I want to spend the month with her is to improve my image. It’s not her full, luscious lips or her soft, seductive laugh or those fantasies I keep having of tying her down to my bed as I make her quiver and pant and call out my name.

Ana
Ash Black. In my library. Under my desk. It’s hard to believe it happened. I’ve listened to his voice so many times, my favorite soundtrack as I walk the streets of New York. My secret bad boy crush, the smoldering, shirtless star of the tabloids, all muscles and tattoos. Then one day he shows up and kisses me in my break room.
What’s even crazier is how he wants me to spend the next month. At his shows in L.A., San Francisco and Vegas, candlelight dinners in New York and Paris. He wants the world to believe he’s fallen in love. With me.
I’ve got to say no. He’s a walking disaster with a dirty mouth and wicked hands that melt my panties right off of me. This month would take everything in my well-ordered, neat little life and shake it up like a snowglobe.
Then why am I so tempted to say yes?

NOTE: Undone is a three-volume hot adult romance. It’s the second story in the Beg for It series about the dominant, alpha males in Ash’s family and the strong, sexy women who make them finally meet their match.

 

goodreads link


 

amazon preorder


 

Excerpt

Aw, fuck. My head hurt like someone had cut it open with a broken bottle. Maybe someone had? I brought my hand up, tentative. Nope, everything intact. Just my skull in the grips of a massive, relentless hangover. Nothing new. Then why did I feel like something new had happened?

With a groan, I shifted my weight on the bed and swung my legs over the side. Slow and steady, that’s how you won the race. Or moved your aching, hard-partying body the morning after an epic night of tearing through Vegas. Much like the night before and the night before that. People expected nothing less from hotter-than-hell rock god Ash Black. Trashed hotel rooms, run-ins with paparazzi, X-rated scenes with starlets, I did it all while strutting around in leather pants and no shirt, my world-famous muscles and tats on full display. I always delivered.

But something else had happened last night. My mouth tasted like soot and my head felt stuffed with cotton balls, the scratchy, cheap kind. I couldn’t remember. What was it?

Behind me, a feminine grunt emerged beneath wrinkled sheets. Strands of dark hair splayed across a pillow. Mandy Monroe, America’s sweetheart aka my plaything at the moment, had blonde hair. Huh. I thought we’d been hanging out last night.

Like a goddamned chainsaw, my goddamned phone buzzed with an incoming call. All the goddamned way across the hotel room. No way was I going to make it that far.

Down on the floor between my feet I spotted a tied-off used condom. So there was that. Wasted as I got, I used protection on autopilot. The world already had its hands full with just one Ash Black. No one needed any little Ashes running around. My cock got out and played each and every night, but procreation? Not going to happen.

The mystery woman next to me snorted in her sleep. What was she doing still in my bed? I liked my fun over and out—as in out of the room by the time I woke up. I pulled the sheet down.

Ah, yes, I remembered those tits, as big and gorgeous as only a plastic surgeon could shape them. I remembered them bouncing up and down as she rode me last night. I usually liked to dominate, play games of control, but last night I’d been too wasted to do more than let her climb on and ride me like a rodeo bull.

Tugging the sheet down some more, I swatted her lightly on the ass. “Up and out, Buttercup.”

Groaning, she opened her eyes. Her mascara had smeared down like a Halloween costume of a zombie prom queen. “You got to get going.” I pointed toward the door. I didn’t even try to make up an excuse, something lame about needing to take care of something. I didn’t ask for her phone number as she fumbled around and found her skimpy dress, pulling it on and zipping into her thigh-high boots. I was Ash Fucking Black. I didn’t give out my digits.

“So, thanks,” she mumbled. “If you ever want to, you know—”

“Yeah.” I gave her my signature wink. Class dismissed. And what did she do when I was such an asshole? She giggled and blushed, like they all did.

I could get away with anything. And I took full advantage of it. I was 26 now, but I’d been famous since I was 19 and my band charted its first number one hit. People called us the harder-driving, U.S. version of Coldplay. We had some Green Day in us, some Fun once you cranked them up. Some compared us to the Sex Pistols or Guns ‘n’ Roses. Whatever you called it or compared it to, we made music that made you jump up, dance your ass off and bang your head against the wall. No ballads, no whining, we made screw-the-consequences, fuck-it-all-I’m-going-for-it RAWCK.

There were lots of benefits to my status. Touring the world, VIP access to anything anytime, but at the top of my list had to be the constant supply of pussy. It wasn’t as if I’d been hard-up before I’d gotten famous. My father was Richard Kavanaugh, billionaire real estate mogul and investor. I’d learned early that being rich and handsome opened up all kinds of doors and legs. But it was when I picked up a guitar as a teenager that girls really started getting crazy. Waiting for me naked in my bed. Texting me videos of them making out with their girlfriends or playing with themselves as they thought of me.

By now, I’d gotten so used to the whole sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll routine it was almost boring. I was almost tired of it. Almost. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t playing a tiny violin of pity for myself. I was having the time of my life. Every night.

That was it, though. With the exact same shit every different day, every now and then in the midst of the wild and crazy carnival I’d have a whisper of a doubt. I’d look around and think, is that all there is? Then I’d do a show and get wasted and fuck groupies and nothing would matter all over again.

I’d been the bad boy for a long time now, my whole life really. I’d started off the black sheep in my family, doing nothing right in my father’s eyes, dark in my perfect older brother’s chip-off-the-old-block’s shadow. Then as the rocker, I’d become the poster boy for devil-may-care defiance. I’d spent years riding that long wave of adolescent rebellion while I proudly held up my middle finger.

Sometimes I wondered what it would feel like to stop. Get off the crazy train. Be still and silent for even a moment.

When media darling Mandy Monroe and I first got together a couple months ago, I’ll admit it, I’d been curious about her. Everyone knew her story, the daughter of a coal miner from West Virginia discovered on American Idol. Seventeen years old and singing her heart out with those big, brown eyes and long blonde hair, the world had fallen in love with her. I’d wondered, maybe it would be different with her? She’d certainly grown up outside the bubbles I’d lived in my whole life. Maybe she’d be real?

I didn’t know what kind of person Mandy had been at 17. But at 22, the Mandy I got to know was as vicious and shrewd as they came, always angling for the right PR shot, constantly scheming about how to stay on top of the headlines. It hadn’t taken me long to realize her sugary image had nothing to do with her sour reality. The only reason things had dragged on as long as they had between us was we were never in the same place at the same time. Until last night. We’d gone out to dinner here in Vegas. Hadn’t we?

My phone buzzed again. With a deep down-to-the-bones groan, I stumbled across the room to retrieve it. I still didn’t get there in time to pick up. The screen announced that I had 15 missed calls, 10 from my agent, four from my PR firm, one from my older brother.

Uh-oh. My big brother never called unless it was to give me shit. I’d done something to screw up. What was it?

My phone rang again in my hand. My agent. With a sigh, I picked up.

“Yeah?” My voice creaked out, gravelly and hung-over.

If words came across visually, his would be bright red and all caps. “WHAT THE FUCK? YOU’VE FUCKED UP ROYALLY THIS TIME!”

 


Books by Callie Harper
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Unleashed Volume 1 Cover

 

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About Callie Harper

 

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

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

She lives in the gorgeous Bay Area with her family.

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BLOG TOUR ~ Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3) by Melanie Harlow

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Some Sort Of Love cover

 

On the surface, I have it all—a career I adore, a loving family, the Nixon metabolism but not the Nixon ears, and a salary that supports my lavish taste in designer shoes, fine wine, and lacy lingerie…but I have no one to share it with.

Until the day I run into him—my one night stand from college with the cocky smile, let’s-get-out-of-here eyes, and dirty, dirty mouth.

Levi Brooks is six feet four inches of hot bearded fantasy. A sexy single dad with broad shoulders, strong hands, and a fantastically big…heart. (I mean, it’s massive. And generous. And it pumps so hard… um. Sorry. Lost my place.)

But he lives for his son, and he’s keeping me at a distance because he thinks I deserve someone better—a man who can give me more time, more attention, more of himself. He doesn’t believe he could ever be enough.

But he’s wrong.

He’s everything.

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BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

I thought I couldn’t love this series more after I read ‘Some Sort of Happy’ but hey, it turns out I was wrong, as the girls books have progressed I’ve fallen more for the Nixon sisters and their beaus!!

Jillian always seemed like the serious, work minded big sister of the girls and she never appeared to have time or interest in a relationship, but as the book begins we find out that isn’t the case.
She’s funny, engaging, a really hard worker and so giving when it comes to those she loves.
She’s seen both her younger sisters find their ‘One’ and, understandably, she’s lonely and now realising that she needs more in her life.

Enter Levi – gods, Levi…. He’s a friend of Sebastian who’s a single dad, a dirty talker (in an awesomely good way) and a really good guy who is focused solely on his son who is autistic – he was a fab male lead (and the fact that the guy rocks a beard…. yeah, he’s HAF!!)
The relationship he had with Scotty was great to read about but he had so many hangups and regrets that he kinda forgot that he too was entitled to a life.

Jillian and Levi hit it off from the start, it didn’t hurt that they had a quick coming together (quite literally) in college years back. They were good together and there was more to their relationship than just a sexual attraction (though the attraction, heat and chemistry between them is off the scale!). They got on so well and were compatible, really they were each what the other needed, which made me more than a little peeved at points with Levi when he wouldn’t open more to Jillian about why he wouldn’t introduce her to Scotty.

There’s more fun and interaction with the Nixon family and a few surprises thrown in too!
I love Skylar and Natalie and their significant others. The relationship the sisters have is so loving and supportive, you know they’ll always be there for each other. The fact that they don’t have secrets (well, not many of them) makes for some entertaining scenes in the book!!

I’m sad that this was the last book but ‘Some Sort of Love’ was terrific and finished off the series in the best way!!! A definite 5* read!!!


 

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Other Books by Melanie Harlow

 

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Please join Melanie Harlow and help the children of Flint, MI!

 

The kids in Flint, MI need safe water now, and they need resources for the future–the effects of lead exposure are serious and long-term. You can help by donating to flintkids.org between now and Feb. 19th–I’ll match your donations up to $5,000! Here’s how you give:

1) Go to flintkids.org

2) Click on the purple box that says Donate Now!

3) Give what you can

4) In the field that asks how you learned about the fund, please put Harlow. This allows the organization to track book world donations so I can match them!

THANK YOU!!! #WaterForFlint #BookWorldLove

 


 

About Melanie Harlow

 

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

 

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BLOG TOUR ~ Undercovers by Kayti McGee

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Blurb

Halfway through her first year on the job, Melissa Montclair decides the best part of teaching is winter break.

And the best part of break is the Perfect Ten she meets in a bar on New Year’s Eve. Why not celebrate a semester under her belt with a Perfect Ten in her pants? The one night affair is all she hoped for, until she walks into school a week later and sees Mr. Ten is Student Twenty-nine on her roll call.

She should be mortified—and she is—but that doesn’t stop her from banging him again. And again.

And again.

So much for job security.

Posing as an exchange student at Hamilton High is finally the assignment Officer Spence Vega has been hoping for. Now he has a shot at getting to the bottom of the town’s recent molly epidemic. There’s only a couple of problems: first, history is taught by the curvy bombshell he banged on New Year’s. Second, his growing suspicion is that she’s the dealer he’s looking for.

The job was supposed to be an easy in-and-out, not the teacher.

If only they could stop getting under the covers, staying undercover would be so much easier.

 


 

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under covers offer you everything


 

Excerpt

I run my hands across the small of her back softly, swaying against her as she arches into me. We are dancing without music, a sexy tango of clothes and lips. (See what I did there? Tango. Oh wait, that’s Argentina. Never mind.) And soon she is standing in nothing but lace. I run my hands over the swells of her breasts and relish in her gasps and moans. She’s wound tight, and I plan to play her like a violin. (That one works much better.) Her bra drops to the floor, and she stands flushed and unashamed before me.
 
My teacher. Goddamn. I am going to go home and sponsor two more orphans.
 
“Take off your panties,” I order.
 
She hooks her thumbs into the elastic and spins in a slow circle, leading with her ass. Slowly, she slides them down, her shapely ass still in the air, and lifts one leg at a time, my own private strip show. All we’re missing are the glasses and the chaste updo. Although, truly, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything. She’s totally bare, always a treat, and already I can remember her sweet taste on my tongue. I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist, giggling as I spin her around. I set her on the island and kiss her cheeks, her neck, across her collarbone, and down to those tits I’ve been longing for.
 
Each nipple pebbles under the warmth of my tongue, like they were waiting for this very moment.
 
Like they were waiting for me. The two new orphans I promised to care for. She drops her head backwards and moans, encircling her arms around my neck. I secure her to me with my right arm and use my left hand to cup each breast as I adore it with my tongue. I can’t stop thinking of what sheer perfection her body is. She smells like a honeycomb, tastes the same, and her skin is as soft as silk. Our bodies move together like they were made for one another, calibrated to the other exactly.
 
It’s the most intimate moment I’ve ever shared with someone, and we haven’t even gotten to the sexing yet. I said I was riding a unicorn before, but this girl is a unicorn.
 
My cock begins to ache in anticipation, rising again to the challenge. I lay her down gently across the island, my own personal feast, and bend over her. I can’t stop my hips from moving as I kiss her again, and work my way back down her body. Past the delicious swells of her breasts, down the tight curves of her stomach, past her cunt smelling incredibly of her sex. I love on her legs and her calves, paying special attention to the tender skin behind her knees and on her upper thighs.
 
She growls playfully, wriggling her body each time my lips cross over the spot she wants me most, but I don’t give in. Instead I give her a single long, slow lick down her blissfully pink pussy and return to her stomach, then back up to her breasts. Her nipples are tight nubs and I gently bite down on each.
 
“Tease,” she breathes.
 
I only grin wickedly at her. After all, she’s the one who suggested that this last all evening.
 
“Lick me.” She’s (impossibly) even sexier when she commands me.
 
“Only when you beg me.” She might be my teacher, but I can show her a thing or two myself.
 
She shudders a little. “I never beg.”
 
“Tonight you will.”
 

BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

 

I really wanted to like ‘Undercovers’…. the blurb sounded like it would be a lot of fun, but sadly it didn’t live up to my expectations.

The initial meeting of Spence and Melissa was great. A bit of banter, a definite attraction and smokin’ hot sex, what’s not to like about that!? Then we get to their second encounter where Spence, unknown to Mel, is undercover as a student at the high school she teaches at and, to be honest, pretty much from then on out the story didn’t grab me as much as I’d hoped.

Although they were likable enough I didn’t connect with the characters much at all.
Spence was a funny guy and his thoughts were amusing but at times he sounded like a 15 year old and not a man in his 20s (yeah, I know he was ‘undercover’ as a 19yo but the way things were worded when we read what he was thinking occasionally came across as a bit young for his character….. maybe it’s just me and I’m getting old… 😦 )
I thought Melissa was gonna be a lot of fun and would give our undercover detective a run for his money but she stressed and dithered so much about what she should do about him that I ended up wanting to shake her more than a few times…

I’d have liked to have known more about the characters and a little more development of their relationship would have been good. I felt that the story rushed along pretty quickly and at the end things were wrapped up neatly way too fast.

A 3* read for me that, with a little more character depth, would have been more.

** I received an ARC of the book in exchange for an honest review.

 


 

About Kayti McGee

 

Kayti McGee is a former Kansas Citian who now follows the Royals from Colorado. Besides writing, her hobbies include travel, cooking, and all thing Whovian. She also writes as the latter half of Laurelin McGee. Like her co-author Laurelin Paige, she joined Mensa for no other reason than to make her bio more interesting.

 

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COVER REVEAL – SET THE PACE by Kim Karr

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Title: Set the Pace
Series: The Detroit Love Duet #1
Author: Kim Karr

 

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: February 21, 2016

 

 
Every city needs a hero, but Detroit’s white knight just might be a villain.

A rough childhood branded Jasper Storm trouble. A bad boy. Not worth a damn. His love of cars was the only thing that could battle his delinquency. With the need for speed in his blood, he overcame his wayward ways. Mostly. Now the broken city of Detroit hails him their shining star. And the man behind a new cutting-edge automobile is ready to turn this bankrupt town around.

Charlotte Lane was the tomboy who lived next door. She was his best friend. He was her protector. Then tragedy struck and she disappeared, forever—or so he thought.

Everything Jasper does in life is fast. He talks fast, f*cks fast, and drives fast. But when one reckless turn brings him face-to-face with the childhood he has tried very hard to forget, he finds himself on the edge of wondering if he shouldn’t slow down.

Time hasn’t erased who they are though. Jasper has many reasons to hate Charlotte and keep his distance, which is easier said than done. Soon she’s infiltrating his every thought and he can’t stay away. Back in town with an agenda of her own, she should push him aside. Make him turn around. Walk away herself. Yet she can’t.

With the past lurking between them, they proceed with caution. That is until one sex-filled night leads to murder, and things are forced to change. Now that Detroit’s biggest ally has suddenly become suspect number one, will Charlotte—the girl Jasper once kept safe—be the one to save him?
 
 
 

 
 

 


 
 
 
 

Reader * Writer * Coffeelover * Romantic

Kim Karr is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She is a daydreamer. So much so that if daydreaming could be a hobby it would be her favorite. It’s how her stories are born and how they take root. An imagination that runs wild is something to be thankful for, and she is very thankful. 🙂

She grew up in New York and now lives in Florida with her husband and four kids. She’s always had a love for reading books and writing. Being an English major in college, she wanted to teach at the college level but that was not to be. She went on to receive an MBA and became a project manager until quitting to raise her family. Kim currently works part-time with her husband and with the rest of her time embraces one of her biggest passions–writing.

Kim wears a lot of hats! Writer, book-lover, wife, soccer-mom, taxi driver, and the all around go-to person of her family. However, she always finds time to read.

She likes to believe in soulmates, kindred spirits, true friends, and Happily-Ever-Afters. She loves to drink champagne, listen to music, and hopes to always stay young at heart.

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ UnderCovers by Kayti McGee

Under Covers Final Cover

 

Blurb

Halfway through her first year on the job, Melissa Montclair decides the best part of teaching is winter break.

And the best part of break is the Perfect Ten she meets in a bar on New Year’s Eve. Why not celebrate a semester under her belt with a Perfect Ten in her pants? The one night affair is all she hoped for, until she walks into school a week later and sees Mr. Ten is Student Twenty-nine on her roll call.

She should be mortified—and she is—but that doesn’t stop her from banging him again. And again.

And again.

So much for job security.

Posing as an exchange student at Hamilton High is finally the assignment Officer Spence Vega has been hoping for. Now he has a shot at getting to the bottom of the town’s recent molly epidemic. There’s only a couple of problems: first, history is taught by the curvy bombshell he banged on New Year’s. Second, his growing suspicion is that she’s the dealer he’s looking for.

The job was supposed to be an easy in-and-out, not the teacher.

If only they could stop getting under the covers, staying undercover would be so much easier.

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amazon UK


Under Covers KT


 

Excerpt

 

I place a kiss on her neck and mutter against her smooth, honey-mint skin, “Keep kissing me like this and I can’t promise we’ll make it back to your place.”

She gasps slightly and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. At this rate, I’d fucking carry her the entire way to her apartment if it meant we didn’t have to waste a valuable hour waiting for a cab. And then the little minx starts grinding against me. I can feel her damp warmth through my jeans.

Jesus take the wheel. I might marry this girl.

“Are you asking for a public fucking, Mel? Because it certainly feels like it.” I slip my hands under her short dress. A firm ass waits for me. I knew she worked out. I’m such a good judge of character.

Character. Haha.

“God, you really are beautiful,” I tell her, and I totally mean that. That’s the key to the charm I learned from my dad—mean what you say. Sincerity is more important than any fancy words. And by fancy words, I mean I mostly only keep thinking of filthy ones to say to her, so.

“I think we’re going to have to walk.” She leans forward and gently bites my neck. “Because I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

Fucking jackpot. “Where do you live?”

“Seven blocks that way.” She points in the direction of the Plaza, but I’m paying exactly zero attention to her muttered directions. I’m way too busy enjoying the way her body moves against me in time to the music coming from the bar. “Do you mind walking?”

“Do I mind?” I laugh. More like she read my mind. I pick her up and toss her over my shoulder. (Another note for all my brothers out there—girls love this move. Proves you’re super strong. Helps to play baseball. If you’re any good, hit me up. We’re down a shortstop on my team.)

Her high-heeled feet kick in delight and it’s the cutest thing ever. Like puppies and kittens but—you know what, no. Puppies and kittens are a terrible analogy. Anyway, slipping into that particular bar to hide was probably the best thing I could have done all night. “Just tell me where to go.”

“The other way! Other way!” Melissa squeals as I spin her in circles. “Yes, this way. Seven blocks. High-ho, Silver!”

She thinks she’s hilarious and laughs at her own joke. It makes me laugh, too. Then I realize her ass is probably on display to the whole cab line. As much as I deserve high fives from everyone who sees who I’m leaving with, I’m selfish. That ass is mine for the night, so no one gets to look but me.

I set her down.

I haven’t been back to a girl’s place in… well in for-fucking-ever, and the idea excites me. No one can come back to my place, not right now, and I usually avoid going home with strangers, no matter how hot. You just never know, man. Maybe it’s the beer, maybe it’s the quick getaway that led me to the bar, maybe it’s how she kisses like she’s already in bed, but this is so happening.

God, I miss one-night stands.

There is no time for attachment in my life. Not even with this amazing girl who giggles at my jokes and squeals when I pretend to turn down a dark alleyway, just to hear her laugh. There are a lot of alleys in Westport. I get a lot of laughs. She isn’t making like she wants a boyfriend either, which means tonight is perfect.

After all, New Year’s Eve is a time for new beginnings. And god knows I could use a fresh start. An evening with Melissa would be the perfect way to kiss 2015 good-bye. And I would make that good-bye scream my name so many times…

“Are you sure we can’t just stop here?” I spin her around and kiss her again. Fuck, that mouth of hers. Hey, there’s an idea. “Because you are making me fucking crazy. I can’t look at you with clothes on anymore.”

She narrows her eyes. Those bedroom eyes. Fuck. They were bright green, so opposite of my brown, and framed by dark eyelashes. Dark hair, bright eyes, a killer smile. I’m only half-joking. I’d take her right here on the street if it wasn’t illegal. That doesn’t always stop me, but it would be a real mood-killer to deal with legal ramifications right about now.

“Naughty boy.” She purrs. “If you keep propositioning me like this, I don’t know that I can say no. However, I can’t go to jail because I’m…”

“A prostitute? A drug dealer?” Again with the half-jokes.

“Sure.” She smiles brightly and kisses me with wandering hands. I’m starting to rethink my seconds-ago decision not to bang her in the middle of 42nd St.

“How much further?”

Melissa extends an arm behind her, towards a tall complex not quite a block away. “Number four-oh-five.”

“The elevator is close enough.” I kiss her again, her sweet taste basically all I’m living for right now, and throw her back over my shoulder. Did I mention chicks love this move?

“Don’t let me flash anyone!” She squeals.

“I can’t make any promises,” I say. And I can’t, but I guarantee I’m moving too quick for anyone to get a good view. We are so close to her place. I jog across the street and through the small lobby. The elevator is small and rickety, and the bumps and jolts serve two-fold as we continue making out. Her moans drive me insane. All this just from kissing? We’re gonna get a noise complaint for sure once I show her all my moves.

“Okay,” she breathes as the elevator opens to her floor. She smooths her hair and digs through her purse for her keys. “I was not planning on bringing anyone back, so you are not allowed to judge me by my lack of cleanliness.” Girls, man. I’ve never seen a “messy” girl’s room that could hold a candle to Zach’s.

“I haven’t seen my floor in weeks,” I reassure her as she pulls me back towards to the door. She unlocks it somehow, and we all but fall in, locked again in heated kisses.

We kiss from the door to the bedroom, bumping into furniture and walls, giggling and shedding our clothing. By the time we reach her bed (perfectly made, by the way) I’m in nothing but my boxer-briefs and she’s in a lacy pair of boy shorts.

God, I love boy shorts.

“It’s like you were made just for me.” I didn’t necessarily mean for her to hear that. It’s true, though, as I’m prowling around her, she’s literally everything I’ve ever jacked o—dreamed of, I mean. Yeah, that.

Before we disappear between her sheets, I want to imprint into my memory every fucking perfect inch. Every dip, every curve, every smooth line. I’m going to taste every inch, but my eyes are hungry, too. Sex is like eating a gourmet meal, as much to be done with your eyes as with your stomach, or, in this case, my cock.

“Like what you see?” She asks. Oh, do I. It’s better than Lidia’s pasta trio, and nothing is better than Lidia’s pasta trio.

“You have no idea,” I let my voice drop to a low rumble. “No fucking idea.” Mostly because I’m not sure how to explain that I just mentally compared her to very sexy noodles.

“Show me.”

Now that I can do.


 

About Kayti McGee

Kayti McGee is a former Kansas Citian who now follows the Royals from Colorado. Besides writing, her hobbies include travel, cooking, and all thing Whovian. She also writes as the latter half of Laurelin McGee. Like her co-author Laurelin Paige, she joined Mensa for no other reason than to make her bio more interesting.

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BLOG TOUR ~ Unleashed by Callie Harper

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Blurb

 

Unleashed, Vol. 1: Hot Alpha Romance
(Beg For It series)

Declan Hunt

I never thought I’d see her again. The one I couldn’t have, the one I’d never forget. When I met her I had nothing, a lowly ranch hand working on her daddy’s land. She was the golden girl up on the hill, sexy as hell but beyond my reach. Now, like all my fantasies realized, she’s come to me for help.

I’m a bastard, ruthless in pursuit of my goals. My cold, hard drive has made me what I am today, amassing wealth and power. A good guy would help her, then send her on her way with a handshake and a smile. I’m not a good guy. I’m going to make a bargain and hold her to it.

One week. I’ll bail her out, pay off all her debts, but only after she gives herself to me completely. Seven days and seven nights of no-holds-barred submission to my dominance. I’m a demanding man with dark, relentless appetites. She’s unleashed the beast in me and I won’t stop until I possess all of her.

Kara

Six years ago he broke my heart. Now, with nowhere else to turn, I’ve put myself at his mercy. He’s the ultimate alpha male, commanding and controlling, and I’ve agreed to let him use me as his plaything for a week. I’m terrified of how he’ll take me, what he’ll make me do to serve all of his needs.

I’ve got to keep this week all business. It needs to stay a transaction pure and simple, no emotions in play. I’m scared as hell about the power he wields over me.

Because I have a dirty secret. I’ve never gotten over him. I’ll fight hard to keep up all my defenses even as he melts them down. But the truth is that the thought of serving him has me panting, wet and practically begging for everything he has planned.

NOTE: Unleashed is a four-volume story launching the Beg For It series about the hot, alpha males in Declan’s family and the battles they wage with the strong, sexy women who make them finally meet their match.

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Other Books by Callie Harper

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Off-reveal-5

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

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

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

She lives in the gorgeous Bay Area with her family.

Connect with Callie at:

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FNM

Book Reviews and More

BookZone

~book reviews ~ mostly non-fiction ~ true crime & biographies

CJR The Brit

Book Blog

Lady Heather's Reviews

Lover of books, music, and happily ever afters.

The Romance Bibliophile

Avid Romance Reader | Blogger | Proofreader

Didi Oviatt

Author of suspense novels Sketch, Justice For Belle, Search For Maylee, Aggravated Momentum, and a medley of short stories.

Jacquie Biggar-USA Today Best-selling author

Read. Write. Love. 💕💕💕

Chelle's Book Ramblings

Let's Talk Books

Madeline's Blog

"I'm on the hunt for who I've not yet become."

N.M. Catalano Writer/Author

Adult Content, 18+ Only

Lisa s Everyday Life

Welcome to my Life. As I turn Everyday into a Holiday -

Ines Johnson

A little magic in your love story...

Hunter S. Jones

Writer ~ Author

Ophelia's

Speaking Out on the Unspeakable

BE MY BOOK BOYFRIEND

Fictional characters, non-fictional feelings

...Burns Through Her Bookshelf

Voracious reader, book lover, intermittant blogger, audiologist. These things are some of me, but not the sum of me.

DPAPA's Living A Flip Flop Life

Turn Your Passion Into Your Business Online

Pink Ink

Ten authors, four countries, one blog.

After Dark Book Lovers

END YOUR DAY WITH A GOOD BOOK

Book Loving Pixies

We live to read ~ we love to read!!!!

Rumpled Sheets Blog

#Rumpled_Sheets

Storytime with John

Pull up and listen...I've got a funny one for ya...

jessielanebooks.wordpress.com/

Contemporary & Paranormal Romance Author

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