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BLOG TOUR ~ Beauty of the Beast (Fairy Tale Retellings, #1) by Rachel Demeter

 

Beauty of the Beast
Fairy Tale Retellings, #1
by Rachel L. Demeter

 

Release Date: March 15, 2017
Genres: Adult, Historical Romance, Fairy Tale Retellings, Gothic Romance
#beautyofthebeasttour
 
 

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🥀 Book Blurb 🥀

Experience the world’s most enchanting and timeless love story—retold with a dark and realistic twist.

A BEAST LIVING IN THE SHADOW OF HIS PAST

Reclusive and severely scarred Prince Adam Delacroix has remained hidden inside a secluded, decrepit castle ever since he witnessed his family’s brutal massacre. Cloaked in shadow, with only the lamentations of past ghosts for company, he has abandoned all hope, allowing the world to believe he died on that tragic eve twenty-five years ago.

A BEAUTY IN PURSUIT OF A BETTER FUTURE

Caught in a fierce snowstorm, beautiful and strong-willed Isabelle Rose seeks shelter at a castle—unaware that its beastly and disfigured master is much more than he appears to be. When he imprisons her gravely ill and blind father, she bravely offers herself in his place.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Stripped of his emotional defenses, Adam’s humanity reawakens as he encounters a kindred soul in Isabelle. Together they will wade through darkness and discover beauty and passion in the most unlikely of places. But when a monster from Isabelle’s former life threatens their new love, Demrov’s forgotten prince must emerge from his shadows and face the world once more…

Perfect for fans of Beauty and the Beast and The Phantom of the Opera, Beauty of the Beast brings a familiar and well-loved fairy tale to life with a rich setting in the kingdom of Demrov and a captivating, Gothic voice.

Beauty of the Beast is the first standalone installment in a series of classic fairy tales reimagined with a dark and realistic twist.

Disclaimer: This is an edgy retelling of the classic fairy tale. Due to strong sexual content, profanity, and dark subject matter, including an instance of sexual assault committed by the villain, Beauty of the Beast is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

 

 

🎬 Book Trailer 🎬

 


🥀 Teasers 🥀

 
 
 


 
🥀 Playlist 🥀


 

🥀 Excerpt 🥀

~ The East Tower ~

Arms sprang out from the darkness. They spun her full circle and slammed her body against the king’s portrait. Isabelle gasped, more in shock than from pain, as she stared into Adam’s deformed face. The lantern flickered behind his massive form, casting his cloaked body in silhouette. But she saw enough to know he was far from pleased. Rage and frustration radiated from his body like a palpable force.

 

“I warned you to stay out of here,” he said, his voice dangerously cold and deep. Those rugged vocals vibrated against her body and seeped into her marrow. “What part of forbidden didn’t you comprehend?” His voice lashed out from the darkness like a hurtled knife, and the word “forbidden” seemed to whisper another meaning altogether. Isabelle tried to answer but failed to find her voice. Indeed, her vocal cords had turned to solid ice, as numb and cold as the blood rushing through her veins. She couldn’t breathe; she felt like she was suffocating.

 

“My mother gave me that musical box on my fourth birthday,” he said, the sensual lull of his voice causing the fine hairs on her nape to stand erect. “And now your recklessness has destroyed it. Have you nothing to say?”

 

“I—I’m sorry.” He offered no reply; only the ragged sound of his breathing and the hammering blizzard broke the silence. “Please—I didn’t mean any harm.”

 

She struggled under the weight of Adam’s colossal body and battled to free herself. He merely gave a low chuckle and pressed her firmly against the portrait. He looked otherworldly at that moment, like an angel of death seeking vengeance. Both beautiful and monstrous, his cool, sapphire eyes overflowed with warring emotions. In spite of his harsh and ruthless exterior, she detected a quaver in his voice and saw that his large, cloaked shoulders trembled. The darkness in his soul cast a shadow that embraced her; as she peered up at him, she knew he was drowning in the turbulent waters of a past time.

 

“What a disappointment,” he went on, his voice growing deeper still, mocking her words from so many days ago, “You’re like any other woman.”

 

“I—I’m sorry. Please, Adam. I—” Her gaze shot past his body and over the wreckage of a past life. She thought of her private chamber again—of the stale perfumes and outdated garments.

 

Her flight or fight instinct seized hold of her. She attempted to scramble free, but he merely grabbed her shoulder and whirled her back against the portrait. Gloves wrapped his hands; his long, silk-clad fingers grasped her shoulder and kept her firmly in place.

 

He stood intimately close.

 

Far too close.

 

As close as Raphael had been that night.

 

“Going somewhere, ma belle? After you’ve worked so hard to find my East Tower?”

 

Hands like two steel bands held her wrists in place. Hot breaths, which faintly smelled of wine, seared her cheeks and assaulted her senses. Her breasts flattened against the pressure of his strong chest, and she felt that same chest swell and deflate in perfect sync with her own. One large hand slipped down her elbow and glided across her extended arm. The lush material of his gloves drew a shudder from her heaving chest. His breathing grew more ragged, shallower, and the erratic beat of his heart banged against her own.

 

Anger and desire warred on his face, twisting his features into a mess of both monster and man. “Find anything of interest, aside from my musical box? Come, come. You went through such great trouble to get here,” he asked, his voice now threaded with both anger and something else.

 

Yes, Isabelle recognized that something else. It was the same note that had entered Raphael’s voice that night…

 

She attempted to duck under his arm, but he moved swiftly, capturing her in the crook of his elbow. Reeling her toward him, he emitted a low, haunting chuckle that swelled the eastern tower to its rafters. She was back where she’d started—pinned against the portrait, Adam’s body serving as a flesh-and-blood blockade.

 

Hunger radiated from him, enfolding her in a current of sizzling power. His silk-clad hand grazed the curve of her breast as it moved down her body in a painfully slow caress. Even more alarming was her reaction to him. Her treacherous body responded with a crush of hot and cold pulsating waves. Then he whispered a taunt in her ear, and his liquid baritone slid down her backbone like honey; it swirled inside her, finding its home in her most intimate area.

 

He leaned closer still. His face’s uneven skin brushed against her neck, the black waves of his hair tickled her chin… His thick arousal expanded against her, reminding her of what he was capable of—and of her sheer vulnerability.

 
 

His lips teased the base of her throat. Cursing her traitorous body, Isabelle gasped at the gentle scraping of his teeth. His tongue and lips tormented her throbbing pulse—just barely, stirring her skin in a mere ghost of a touch.

 


🥀
Excerpt 🥀

~ Adam and Isabelle’s ballroom dance ~

 

Isabelle entered the ballroom at precisely eight o’clock. Moonlight, bone white and lustrous, threaded through the grand windows like prying fingers. The illumination set the medallion flooring aglow. Columns lined the oval-shaped room and graced a domed ceiling. A handsome grandfather clock towered in the corner, ticking off the seconds with a pulsating drone. Candelabras reached around the edge of the circular room and lurked like quiet sentries. Their wavering candles mated with the moonbeams and threw golden patches across the intricate marble floor.

 

Incredible silence surrounded Isabelle, pressed into her very being, as she slipped into the heart of the ballroom. She could almost hear the gay whispers of ladies and the delicate swishing of their lace fans. She smelled the sweet scents of their exotic perfumes and could hear the distant, ghostly echo of a pianoforte. And she knew that, despite the castle’s neglected state, it had once been a place of unrivaled beauty and glamour.

 

Much like Adam himself.

 

Isabelle spun around full circle, her mind transporting to a past era that brimmed with elegance and luxury. She felt the darkly romantic pull of the castle and its numberless mysteries… felt herself falling in love with its shadows and secrets. Dust motes danced in the shafts of moonbeams and wavering candles. Faintly she hummed beneath her breath, testing the acoustics in the spacious room. Her voice carried, swirling around her in an echoing cyclone.

 

Then she came to a standstill as a soft touch grazed her bare shoulder. Large, silk-clad hands rotated her body with a startling gentleness. A breath escaped her lips as she drank in Adam’s proud, towering form. Her mind slipped back to the previous day and night—to their sensual kiss in the stables.

 

A navy, double-breasted coat hugged the muscular curves of his body, offset by shimmering golden buttons. They looked like small glowing suns floating against a sky of rustic blue.

 

He resembled a flesh-and-blood prince. Proud. Formidable. In full command of everything and everyone in the room. Even a hint arrogant. Her heart hammered, threatening to burst. Suddenly she felt like she’d been thrust into a world of magic and romantic hushed secrets. The scars look out of place on his smirking features, she mused with a pang of sadness. And dressed in a cascade of cornflower damask and lace, the sparkling tiara half-buried in her curls, she felt like a princess.

 

Then it began.

 

Adam took a deft step backward, sank into a shallow bow, and outstretched his gloved hand. Isabelle grasped her flowing skirts and dipped into a curtsy, her heart madly pitter-pattering. Feeling like a young girl during her first ball, she accepted the invitation and abandoned her silk-encased palm in his own. Strength surged through his fingers, sending chords of awareness thrumming through her body.

 

Am I dreaming? If so, then let me sleep forever.

 

A muscled arm snaked around her torso and tugged her intimately close. Everything seemed to fade away while the heat of their bodies mingled as one. Her heart banged against her ribs as she sought the depths of his eyes. At this range, flicks of gold contrasted against his sky-blue irises. Much of the sadness seemed to have vanished, leaving an almost boyish delight in its wake. The right side of his face was devastatingly handsome, his hair so black it drank the twinkling candles.

 

Keeping her body pressed to his own, he swung her into the scandalous waltz dance. Her small fingers curled around his bicep as he lifted the other hand in midair. He swept her across the smooth marble floor, twirling her body, his large hand securely on the center of her back, his footwork extravagant and exact. Cords of muscle bunched and slid beneath her fingers, and light from the candelabras flashed over the mismatched sides of his face.

 

Isabelle felt clumsy—as if she had sprouted two left feet. She’d spent her youth traveling the countryside and coastline with Papa—not blushing behind a lace fan or dancing in lavish ballrooms. Adam, however, danced with a haunting grace; his movements executed with a fine, cultured polish. He clearly hadn’t been raised in the back of a wagon, she mused. Prince-like and regal, he’d danced this dance many times before; maybe it had been in another place and another life, but his confident, masterful steps gave the truth away.

 

Isabelle struggled to keep up with his graceful strides, though she knew she was making a fool of herself. She stumbled as Adam swept her into an unexpected twirl again; he reeled her back to his side, so they stood intimately close, then chuckled in her ear with the audacity of a pirate. The decadent sound rippled through her veins and mingled with the wine. His lips pressed against the shell of her ear, and the whisper of his warm breaths sent chills thrumming down her backbone.

 

I am falling for him—falling fast and hard.

 

Indeed. She’d been falling for him for some time.

 

“You’re a dreadful dancer,” he murmured against her ear. Paired with the husky baritone of his voice, the insult sounded rather like an endearment.

 

Regardless, she returned the blight with a swift and playful vengeance. “Perhaps my partner is to blame.” She cocked her head back and captured his bright gaze. He offered no retort aside from the arch in his thick brow.

 

Her face reached the height of his shoulder and not a centimeter more. She curled her head against the security of his chest and inhaled his essence with a reverent breath. A tangle of emotions welled in her gut, blurring everything but the moment… everything but the exquisite feel of Adam holding her. As he swept her across the smooth marble floor, the world whirled by in a beautiful, dreamlike mosaic.

 

She felt like she’d fallen into one of her fairy tales.

 

“Oh, Adam… I never want this moment to end,” she heard herself whisper against his coat.

 

“It doesn’t have to.”

 

Adam shifted back and forth in a tantalizing rocking motion, slow dancing to a melody only he could hear. As she melted into his embrace, the candelabras crackled and seductively flashed, accompanying each of their steps. Then he bowed his chin and hummed a beautiful tune against her forehead. It sounded achingly sweet, like a tender lullaby from the depths of a dream world. The force of his vocals resonated deep inside her, massaging Isabelle’s body with delicious caresses. Her heart resembled a drum—and she trembled in time with its beat. That immaculate baritone stoked her imagination, igniting an inferno deep within her soul.

 

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her cheek against his coat’s rugged material and sparkling buttons, abandoning herself to his rhythmic sways and husky baritone. Drawing her into its sultry, comforting depths, his voice surrounded her like liquid velvet. With increasing pressure, his palm swept up the length of her back, down and up, tickling her spine with each soothing movement. Heated breaths wafted against her hairline, stirring the curls about her shoulders. His every gesture felt numbingly gentle, executed with a startling grace. Isabelle had to remind herself to breathe, lest she faints from the pleasure of it all.

 

Emotion claimed the best of her. Isabelle exhaled a shaky breath as tears singed the corners of her eyes.

 

They danced like that for close to an hour, moving in perfect unison to the calming melody of Adam’s voice, the slick medallion floor sliding beneath their feet like some magical carpet. The marble ground reflected their waltzing images with the ease of a looking glass.

 

Everything felt dreamlike. Peaceful. Beautiful.




 

🥀 Meet the Author 🥀


Rachel L. Demeter lives in the beautiful hills of Anaheim, California with Teddy, her goofy lowland sheepdog, and her high school sweetheart of fourteen years. She enjoys writing poignant romances that challenge the reader’s emotions and explore the redeeming power of love.Imagining dynamic worlds and characters has been Rachel’s passion for longer than she can remember. Before learning how to read or write, she would dictate stories while her mother would record them for her. She holds a special affinity for the tortured hero and unconventional romances. Whether crafting the protagonist or antagonist, she ensures every character is given a soul.

Rachel endeavors to defy conventions by blending elements of romance, suspense, and horror. Some themes her stories never stray too far from: forbidden romance, soul mates, the power of love to redeem, mend all wounds, and triumph over darkness.

Her dream is to move readers and leave an emotional impact through her words.


 

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🥀Enter the Giveaway🥀

Rachel L. Demeter is giving away an Ebook copy of Finding Gabriel directly to your Kindle

 

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Dirty Confessions by Jasmine Red


  Title: Dirty Confessions 
By: Jasmine Red

Publication Date: March 29, 2017
Genre: Erotic Romance
#dirtyconfessions
 

Beware.
This is not a love story.
This is about a man and his obsession with a woman who’d he’d hurt long ago.
This is about his journey.
The sexual adventures he embarked on that led him away, and then back to her.
This is romance, if it was lathered in lust and warm moans and whispered under silk sheets in a candle lit room.
This is not an orgasm.
It is multiple orgasms. The senses breaking free. The erotic flicker of a wet tongue against a stiff nipple. Fingers toying with clits. Moans riding cries of pleasures. Hard lengths sliding in lush treasures between hungry thighs.
This is not a romance.
It is a romance of lust.


 


 
Jasmine Red serves as a Secret Alter Ego for an author who wants to be nasty as hell.



BOOK BLITZ ~ Under Her Authority by LT Shade

 
 

 Title: Under Her Authority
By: L.T. Shade

Publication Date: February 14, 2017
Genre: Erotic Romance
#underherauthorityblitz
 
 

No one tells Shane Williams what to do. His world. His rules. Which is why he ran away from home at eighteen to pursue his dream of making a name for himself outside of small-town Georgia. Ten years later, he is one of the hottest creative directors on the east coast and the majority shareholder in a digital media firm in Charlotte. Handing over the business portion of his company to his trusted friend and business partner, and keeping his true identity as the founder a secret, has its perks. But Shane is about to find out one of its flaws.

At the expense of her relationships, Rosemary Berkowitz has always done what it takes to succeed. As a female leader in an all-boys tech field, she’s tougher than nails. She may be a sweet country girl, but underneath her innocent exterior, Rose is a boss with an iron fist. She never backs down from a challenge, and when she wants something, she goes after it full force.

No matter how sexy his smile is, the attention of a tattooed bad boy is the last thing Rose wants. After a club outing with her best friend turns into steamy night with a mysterious stranger, Rose wants nothing more than to move past her one-night stand—however amazing it was—and continue to mend her broken career. Little does Rose know that fate has other things in store for her.


AMAZON UK – https://goo.gl/3K2lYR
AMAZON CA – https://goo.gl/6oqdTu
BARNES & NOBLE – https://goo.gl/cX1chM

 

 
Lauren goes by the pen name L.T. Shade and lives in Miami, FL. She loves black coffee and sexy heroes. Not exactly in that order. Nothing makes Lauren happier than writing, or reading, about strong and capable heroines and their happily ever after’s.When she’s not writing, she spends her time reading, overdosing on Cuban coffee, interning as a book publicist and hanging out with her amazing family and her American Cocker Spaniel, Princess Albie. 

 

SALE BLITZ ~ Taking Chances Series by Jeanne McDonald

Life is about taking chances. Precious moments are only worthwhile when there’s a risk to take. Everyone deserves to live their dreams, but in doing so, one must be willing to take a leap of faith. From erotic masquerades to sexy bad boys with hearts, the Taking Chances series is a steamy ride full of mystery, new beginnings, but most of all…no regrets.

#takingchancessalesblitz

 

 
 

A year has passed since Addison George was left at the altar after her husband-to-be announced he was gay. Still friends despite what happened, she secretly harbors hope that all of this was a phase and he will come crawling back to her. That dream is shattered when he announces that he’s engaged to the man he left her for.Spiraling out of control, Addison agrees to accompany her best friend to the sex party of the year. Hosted by world-renowned erotic romance author, Sebastian Hawk, exposed anonymity is the name of the game. The rules are simple: all guests are required to remain nude for the duration of the event, except for a mask to hide one’s identity, and everyone must partake in at least one salacious delight.

Out of her sexual league, Addison spends the evening with a certain clothed employee who explains to her the world in which the enigmatic author lives. While she wishes to understand more about the strange novelist, Addison can’t help but feel drawn to the handsome and mysterious employee who has introduced her to the sensual realm of Indulgence.

Lost in a world of secrets and passion, Addison will unmask the man behind the mystery while exploring her carnal nature. Through it all, she’ll discover that not everything is as it seems, and to never judge a book solely by its cover.

 
 
 
 

Brix Johnson is the kind of guy a girl brings home to meet her parents.
The reserved intellect.
The handsome boy next door.
The wealthy yoga instructor.

He’s also the guy haunted by the mysterious woman who gave him the best sex of his life, yet refused to give him her name. With his bombshell no more than a memory, he does what any normal, sexually frustrated man would do ─ he returns to Indulgence.

At Indulgence, a yearly, invitation only, New Year’s Eve erotic masquerade party, Brix can shed his typical persona for one night, and be anyone he wants to be. Lucky for him, the women at Indulgence don’t require conversation. They simply want hardcore sex. But when his past sneaks into his fantasy, can he cope with reality or will he walk away from pure satisfaction?

 
 
 
 

 

Jeanne McDonald enjoys writing contemporary fiction filled with spice, romance, drama, and humor. She prides herself in being a mother, a wife, a student of knowledge and of life, a coffee addict, a philosophy novice, a pop culture connoisseur, inspired by music, encouraged by words, and a believer in true love.

Jeanne is the founder of the author co-op, Enchanted Publications, and is an avid supporter of autism awareness.

When she’s not spending time with her family, she can be found reading, writing, enjoying a great film, or diligently working toward her bachelor’s degree in literature. A proud Texan, Jeanne currently resides in the Dallas/Fort Worth area with her family.

You can learn more about Jeanne and her books at www.jeannemcdonald.com.

Where to find her:
 
 

 



 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 
 


 

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

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


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


Social Media Links

 

 

RELEASE TOUR ~ A Way Back Into Love (Love Series #1) by Veronica Thatcher

 

  Title: A Way Back Into Love
Series: Love Series #1

By: Veronica Thatcher

 

Publication Date: February 15, 2017
Publisher: Notion Press
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Designer: Notion Press
#awaybackintolovetour
 
 

Nothing is perfect. Life is messy. Relationships are complex. Outcomes, uncertain. People, irrational. But love…well, that makes everything complicated. And when you are caught in a tangled web of secrets, lies, and complex affairs, someone is bound to get burned.

Emily Stevens is a spunky, spirited college girl whose life gets turned upside-down when she realizes she’s in love with her best friend of fifteen years, Derek Thorpe. As Emily prepares to confess her feelings to Derek, something happens one night which changes her life forever. Five years later, Emily finds herself in Boston, alone and heartbroken. Will she ever be able to forget the past? And what will she find when she returns home…to the man she left behind?

Derek let out a frustrated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. “Em…I mean that…It’s just this person you have become. The Emily I used to know didn’t hit on random guys at the bar.”
Emily crossed her arms over her chest and gave Derek a glare. “Five years is a long time, Derek. Maybe I have changed,” she said, “And besides, why do you care so much?”
Derek glared back at her as he replied harshly, “Oh, so you have changed so much over the last five years that now you throw yourself at random men like a…” he trailed off, not finishing his sentence.
Emily’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened as she let Derek’s words set in. She couldn’t believe her own ears for a minute. Had Derek really accused her of being a slut? She couldn’t believe it – it all felt like a nightmare.
“What did you just say to me?” Emily whispered, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. “What did you just say to me?” Emily asked in a louder voice this time.
Derek didn’t say a word as he continued to look at Emily coldly.
Emily took a step towards Derek and narrowed her eyes. Poking Derek’s chest with the index finger of her right hand, she said in a soft yet acerbic voice, “You don’t get to call me a whore. You’ve no right to judge me. Do you hear me? You’ve no fucking right to judge me.” The anger, the jealousy and the heartache combined with the alcohol she had consumed gave Emily a newly acquired courage. She felt more emboldened than she had felt in her entire life, and so, she didn’t hold back in letting out her pent-up exasperation. “You broke me,” Emily continued, her words slurring slightly, “You broke me, but I am all glued up together now. And I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what you broke. You don’t get to call me a whore.” Emily finished her diatribe, her breaths coming in short pants as a result of her outburst.
Derek looked into her eyes, the anger and bitterness in his eyes now replaced by confusion. “I broke you? What do you mean?” he asked in a bewildered voice, his eyebrows shooting up.
Emily stepped back from him and shook her head. “Oh, you know damn well what I mean. You know what, Derek? I’m done having this conversation with you. I’m so done with this conversation and I’m so done with you,” Emily spat out angrily before brushing past him.
“Emily, wait,” Derek said, catching her by her arm. “Where are you going?”
Emily spun around and gave him a bitter look before looking down at his hand gripping her arm. “Leave my arm,” she said in a low yet threatening voice, “And why do you care where I’m going? It’s none of your business.”
Derek didn’t leave her arm in spite of her warning and said, “Em, you’ve had too many drinks. You can’t drive in this condition. I’ll drop you home.”
 
Emily jerked her arm free from his grasp and replied in a bitter voice, “Thank you, but no. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home on my own. I don’t need you to drop me home. Do you get it, Derek Thorpe? I DON’T NEED YOU!” Emily yelled the last words, causing a few people to look their way.
 

 

 

Veronica Thatcher is an exciting new contemporary romance author. Ever since she was very young, she’s dreamed of becoming a doctor when she grew up. While still forging ahead with that, majoring in pre-med in college, she unwittingly stumbled upon a new dream—becoming a published author. Some may call her an introvert or a wallflower, but she has always found she could express herself better in written, rather than spoken, words. However, never in her wildest dreams had she envisioned she would pursue writing as a prospective career, not just a hobby.

Her love for writing goes hand-in-hand with her love for a good romance novel—whether it be a feel-good, sweet romance or a dark, suspenseful one. When she’s not studying, reading, or writing, she is usually found blasting her favourite songs, sometimes singing and dancing along to them. She dabbles in a number of activities, including painting, karate, singing and dancing. She is a huge chocoholic – probably the biggest – and she is an ice-cream junkie too. She considers herself technologically handicapped forever and has no shame in admitting that. She also deems chocolates her boyfriend, Patrick Dempsey the love of her life, and Friends her life!

Her first book, A Way Back Into Love, is slated for release in February 2017, and she hopes readers will enjoy it as much as she enjoyed writing it. You can reach Veronica through Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Wattpad and Gmail.

BOOK BLITZ ~ Fight For Me by Rebecca Chase

 
 

 Title: Fight For Me
By: Rebecca Chase

Publication Date: November 25, 2016
Genre: Erotic Romance
#fightformebookblitz

This short story is available as part of the Crave For Me anthology or as a stand alone story here. It is over 17,000 words and contains sexual situations and language only suitable for those aged 18+Ever had one of those men in your life that you want no matter what? They’ve spent a lifetime in your head when what you really want is to have them wanting every part of you. This is a standalone short story about that guy and a women who’s had a crush on him for too long. Her crush might finally be the one who takes her to all the places she’s desired and give her the romance she’s longed for.

Jules finally comes face to face with the one man she’s been avoiding for years; her brother’s best friend, her first kiss and the guy who taught her what lust is. The soldier is home on leave for a wedding but where does Jules fit in to this? Joe might want her more than he’s ever let on or maybe he just wants to get some release before he heads back to barracks. Is he just another bad boy who will break her heart before she gives him his marching orders or will he set her body on fire as they engage in a battle of wills and pleasure?



 

 


 
Rebecca Chase is an English rose with a taste for sex and romance. She started life as a superhero but found she liked stockings more than tights so writing erotic romance was the obvious next step. When she’s not busy going on amusing and thrilling dates with sexy suitors, she’s whacking shuttle cocks, dancing the night away, watching rugby men battling with balls and finding interesting story ideas in everyday life.

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RELEASE BLITZ – Bound (A Lamian Wars novel #1) by CM Steele



 Title: Bound
Series: A Lamian Wars Series #1

By: C. M. Steele

 

Publication Date: February 17, 2017
Genre: Paranormal Romance
#boundreleaseblitz

A tale tells of a baby girl being born from a vampire and his human bride. She would be the sign that all would never be the same again. The wars would come to a bloody end and they would rule in peace.Three hundred years of waiting for an answer to their problem had worn on the soul of Falcon Lombardi and that of his best friend Draco Romano. The pain and guilt of the past etched in their hollow hearts. Both men spent their lives working to make things right, however nothing had truly changed in all that time. Disillusioned and left empty, neither of them expected the end of the dark to come from a trip to the theater.
How could something so twenty-first century fix the woes of a seventeenth century curse?




 

AMAZON

 



 

C.M. Steele is a full time mom and author. She loves writing and doesn’t do much else except watch ID Discovery and take care of the kids (of course.)She has 30+ novellas under her belt and many more in her head. 

 

BLOG TOUR ~ Because of You by Silvy Wells

  Title: Because of You
By: Silvy Wells

Publication Date: February 17, 2017
Genre: Romantic Comedy
#becauseofyoutour
 
 

Nicole Wellston realized that falling in love would bring her just pain. She was working in the biggest publishing company in New York and didn’t want anything but her job. With head into the books, she enjoyed in fictional characters more than the real ones.

Nicole had nothing to lose she already lost everything except her job.She worked hard and did her best to hide her loneliness, assuring her four supportive friends even herself that everything was perfect in her life. They knew that she needed love in her life or she would “kill” herself working, and they arranged her blind dates. According to Nicole, men who were chosen by her friends were a complete disaster. Nicole wanted to enjoy in the perfection of fictional characters instead of going on dates with those men.

One night Nicole went out with her friends and met Sebastian, a good looking psychoanalyst. His athletic body and dark green eyes would make her believe that everything was possible.

No matter how hard Nicole tried to find him a flaw, she could not, he was perfect.

After one beautiful and romantic weekend in Aspen Nicole and Sebastian were back in New York, happier and engaged, but Nicole read the article that one magazine published about her exposing her previous life with a shameful secret which wasn’t true and ran.

Did Sebastian love her enough to find her and bring her back?




I forgot that Sebastian was there, and I was wearing just a bathrobe. He came close to me and took me in a hug to warm me than he said: “You are shaking go and wear something before you get cold. I am in the shower if you need me just whistle.”

“Oh, you are too funny” when he went I slapped him on his butt and then I realized that he wasn’t Jess or one of my girlfriends and I got red as a lobster.
“I will forgive you for this because you are shaking, but tomorrow is a pay day, watch yourself. “ He kissed me on my lips and went to the bathroom.
Oh, my Goodness! He was too sweet. I couldn’t think of anything else except him. I was rushing to put on my clothes before Sebastian came out of the bathroom. I was freezing, wearing my pajamas and one warm sweater then I took one more blanket, and I covered myself with it and covered with the under blanket. That was it; I felt warmer at that moment. I got my phone and texted Jess, she replied very quickly, but she said that she wouldn’t interrupt something. Then I called Robert my big brother to tell him that I arrived in Aspen, I saw them on Viber and saw my sweet little niece, Bisera.
My new winter book caught my eye, and I took it. When Sebastian went out of the bathroom wearing just boxer shorts, I was pretending that I didn’t see him, but I was blushing, and he knew it because he looked me with a smirk.
“Alice in the Winterland what are you doing?”
“Reading. Please, just a little bit.”
“I understand you, but you will read to me because you didn’t buy a book for me.”
“I will” and I started reading aloud.
Sebastian was wearing his pajamas and threw himself on the bed next to me, lying in my lap and hugged me with his hands. Having him too close was like heaven to me. After two chapters he was asleep, I turned off the lamp and tried to sleep, turned my back to him. He turned back at me and wrapped his arms around me.


 

Silvy Wells has always wanted to write. She discovered her passion for being a writer when she was at the age of fourteen when started to write a novel in her native language, but she has never finished it. After that, Silvy has always written something -a poem or a short story. She has published some of her poems in several editions along with different authors. 

After obtaining a degree in the Department of Classics, Ancient Greek, and Latin, Silvy became a Latin language teacher and still teaches students in one small town in the Republic of Macedonia. But there has always been that big desire for writing which she has minimized with reading books and writing reviews. Because that wasn’t enough, she finally sat down and wrote her first novel Because of You.

BLOG TOUR ~ Flightless by L. Duarte

 

Title: Flightless

By: L. Duarte

Publication Date: January 23, 2017
Publisher: LD Publishing LLC
Genre: Romance
Cover Designer: Okay Creations
#flightlesstour
 
 

Everyone has a story.Mine went like this: Once upon a time, I met a boy. He was the most handsome fella in the land. I fell in love. Together, we had cosmic chemistry. I believed I would live a life of unending bliss. Until he broke my heart. Shattered it to pieces. And I lived unhappily ever after instead. The end.

Or so I thought.

Life found a way to reunite us. But to change that unhappy ending, I had to learn how to forgive. And my heart seemed unable to do so.

This is a love story. But it is also, much more. It’s the story of how I coped with my shortcomings, my fears and rewrote my destiny. Everyone has a story. This is mine.


 

 

 
Check out these other amazing books from L. Duarte

 

 AMAZON

 

 

 AMAZON 

 


Chapter One

I stepped back. Not literally, just figuratively. I did that with every concert. I allowed my mind’s eyes to hover over me and my fans while I analyzed and dissected the unique relationship between us.
As I watched the multitude of people—a beautiful kaleidoscope of different races and social statuses—my heart, in utter bliss, roared.
The audience held their hands upwards as if in an offering or a request. I never knew which. In perfect synchrony, their arms rolled in waves like the swaying of a stormy sea. Their voices cried out my name, and the smell of their sweat and the heat of their mingled bodies emanated from them, unfurling to me like the sweet perfume of incense.
I held the mic near my motionless lips and stared at them. At that moment, I became one with thousands. At that moment, I took back from the crowd all the energy I had fed them. And their vibe made me high and drunk. It was my personal Nirvana. The kind of rapture that can only be attained through uttermost intimacy. A oneness I had only felt with one other person. A person who had severed that connection and shattered my heart into a million shards of pain.
I worshiped them as they adored me. The exchange of atomic energy contained nuclear power. I was drained from giving. They were wasted from receiving. But we were both impossibly happy and satisfied.
My motionless lips finally moved, uttering the final words for the night. The parting words. “Good night, Sydney!” I waved a hand back at them. “You looked beautiful tonight. All forty thousand of you.”
I bowed. They deserved my reverence. People had spent their time camped outside the venue waiting for a closer glance at me. They had spent their precious earned money to see my performance. They were worthy of my respect and gratitude.
Another wave of a hand. A kiss. Another bow. And I was out. Another show was done. Eight more to go.
I jogged backstage and gave the mic to Jeremy, my makeup artist, in exchange for a bottled water. He opened a portable case containing all the potions that would quickly improve my appearance for the meet and greet. 
Before I took a swig from the bottle, Clara, my assistant, brusquely interrupted my post-concert ritual. She snatched the bottle from my hand and returned it to a confused Jeremy. “Gray. With me,” she demanded, grabbing my elbow and urging me toward my changing room.
I glanced back at the stunned face of Jeremy. It was time for meet and greet with the VIP’s. I needed to freshen up. My makeup had all but melted under the stage lights.
Once inside the privacy of the room, I demanded, “What’s going on?”
She raised a finger and said, “Wait.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Instead, I swallowed the words. Clara was usually a chatterbox; her clipped words quickly clued me in that something was seriously wrong.
As I waited, Clara dialed a number on her phone. Her silence became as unnerving as the red glare of an alarm light.
“Betty, I have Gray,” Clara said. Wordlessly, she shoved the device in my hand. The door closed with a thud after she exited in a flurry of silent drama. 
“Mama?” I asked holding the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Puppy,” Mama said in a soft, almost regretful tone.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Silence filled the other end of the line, only increasing my concern. Mama knew I had just left the stage. She followed my tour from home. Minute by minute. It was unusual for her to call me so soon following a show.
“How was, um, the, um, concert?” she asked.
“Mama, did you call me to ask how the show went?” I furrowed my brows and every hair on my body stood at attention. Mama knew my routine during a tour. After a performance, I had a brief meet with fans and then I would go on hours of silence to rest my vocal cords. Although she knew she could call me at any time, she never called until at least ten hours following a show.
“Mama?” I prodded after a long silence.
“I have cancer,” she said bluntly.
The phone connection was perfect. No static. But Mama’s words hummed in my ear with a tunnel-like quality. Distorted, altered, garbled. My mind, however, had remained sharp and alert. Without much thought and after a brief pause, I uttered the words, “I’m coming home.” I hadn’t said those words in over a decade. Somehow, they didn’t taste as foreign as I had imagined they would.

  ***

“Gray,” I said. The word hovered on my tongue, saturating my taste buds with an acrid taste. “Gray,” I repeated, letting it roll off my tongue. I did that a lot. It was my name.
Often, I mused about my name. It hadn’t been given to me because it was fashionable. Nevertheless, it had a history. My history.
When I was little, I liked to fancy its origin. The sky, I would think, was painted gray the day I was born. I loved the theory. The unattainability of the infinite mass of gray made it a great namesake. Whenever gray clouds hovered in the sky, I would lay on my back and stare at them, dreaming that when I grew up, I would build an enormous ladder, climb it, and touch the gray painted dome. It was all, of course, a foolish child’s dream, born out of vain imagination. I wasn’t born during the day, nor was the sky gray. And it was most definitely not the inspiration behind the choosing of my name.
I was born in a graveyard. Serene Hills Cemetery, it was called, though its surface was flat. It was a fall night, October 20th, approximately 11 pm.
They found me covered in vernix. I used the term ‘they’ loosely. A dog found me. A female German Shepherd mix that went by the name of Sunshine. Her fur was golden. Shiny like sun rays. I had a newspaper cut-out of her. It’s black and white, but it described her that way. In the shot, she looked straight at the camera, two vivid round eyes dotting a long and alert face. She had the knowing stare of someone who was aware she had done a good deed.
Obviously, I don’t recall the details surrounding my birth. I was an infant. But I had Mama tell me the story so many times, which after a while, the images ingrained in my brain like the roots of a tree embedded in the fertile soil. They became so real in my imagination that it felt as if they were my recollections.
I was a born a preemie. Weak, small, and blotchy-faced. I was skin and bones with a mop of black spiky hair, and a bad case of a cold.   
A miracle, they called me. But I knew I was no wonder. I happened to have the perfect concoction of healthy lungs and a loud cry. These, and the sharp canine sense of hearing and smelling had saved me. I didn’t believe in miracles. Not anymore.
When they found me, decay from the trees covered the ground on a fascinating palette of colors—an array of red, yellow, purple, brown, orange, golden, bronze.
I used to question why the leaves change colors and fall off the branches. According to a scientific explanation, leaves are a weak and feeble part of a plant. So, before the weather gets severely cold, the trees should toughen up to protect themselves. Or simply dispose of the leaves, the weak part.
Personally, I believe they turn colors before falling as revenge. A personal vendetta. And for that I applaud them. They turn their death into a poetic and alluring sight. That line of thought made me believe death was beautiful. It fascinated me. It’s more interesting than birth, although similar.
I had been abandoned under a pile of dead foliage. According to the police investigation, it appeared my birth mother had buried me under the leaves. Hid me. Like a criminal attempting to cover its tracks. Supposedly, I spent the night under a cocoon of leaves. The tree’s decay was soaked with blood and amniotic fluid.
According to Sunshine’s owner, they were walking on the sidewalk by the cemetery when she heard a whizzing sound. Sunshine’s owner discarded the noise as being the cry of squirrels.
Sunshine didn’t. At odds with her sweet nature, she became agitated and broke loose. She squeezed through a small gap in the fence and disappeared between the gravestones, leaving her owner in a frenzy.
Less than a minute later, Sunshine returned. Her mouth muzzled around my small waist, my umbilical cord dragging, rattling the decayed leaves.
I found my story fascinating, unique. Or so I told myself whenever I got teased at school.
The hospital staff called me the Graveyard Miracle. Soon after, Gray for short. It stuck.
I spent three months in the hospital. That’s where Mama worked. The graveyard shift. She fed me. She bathed me. She caressed my skin. “My heart had not a chance. It fell madly in love with you,” she said, whenever she told me my story. Her pale hand, dotted with freckles, caressing my black, straight hair.
 When I became her child officially, she quit the night job. “I had brought home my very own Graveyard Miracle.”
She found a day job at a pediatric clinic, occasionally helping at the hospital for extra income. She continued working at the clinic throughout my childhood, adolescence, and after I left home. She remained there until cancer said, “No more.” Until cancer said, “I want your time. From now on, you are going to dedicate every waking hour to me. I’m egocentric. I want it all. I want your flesh and the total sum of your soul.”
That’s why I was there, sitting in the back of a limousine Clara had rented to pick me up from JFK airport and take me home.
“When should I schedule your flight to LA?” she had asked. “Only a one-way ticket for now,” I responded.
32 Lorelai Lane, my childhood home. It was a small Victorian-style house, built in 1929. The colorful foliage of a maple tree and an oak tree framed the dwelling as if it was extracted from the pages of a fairy tale book. When I was little, I used to fancy my house was lovely. The most enchanting place in all realms. Staring at the house, I discovered that I still thought that. It was the most magical place in the world because it was the place that humans refer to it as ‘home’. And home is a thing of fairy tales. Rare and pure.
The car door was wide open, awaiting me. I climbed out. The driver stood straight as a pole. His hands perfectly folded in front of him, his face impassive. I wondered how long he had stood there, waiting for me, questioning my sanity. The luggage was lined up at the front porch. His face remained expressionless when I pulled a generous tip from my purse and handed it to him. “Thank you,” I murmured.
He drove off, the sound of the engine trailing off into the quiet street. It was late at night. The crisp air smelled of burnt wood and autumn, reminiscent of bonfires and fireplaces.
I crossed the stone path leading to the front steps.
The hinges of the front door squeaked, and Mama slowly appeared as light spilled out from inside the house. She leaned against the doorframe, cocked her head, her eyes fixed on me. She knew me so well. She knew I needed the time.
I peered up, carefully examining Mama’s face. It had been only two months since I had last seen her, but she appeared decades older. Even under the porch’s pale yellowed light, I could detect the lines circling her mouth. Small bags sagged under her eyes, and her plump skin appeared loose, dripping like melting wax. Her hair showed inches of gray and her usual square and proud shoulders were smaller, fragile. But what got my attention the most were her eyes. Their vivid green had turned opaque.
The grief and sorrow in her stare set my feet in motion, and I climbed the steps.
When mama stepped forward, the old wooden floor groaned and creaked under her feet. She came to a halt at the top of the stairs. Her lips curved into a small smile, and her arms spread open in an inviting hug.
As I stepped forward, my legs felt wobbly with the weight of so many years of absence.

 


 

I have found that there is only one thing better than reading, and that is writing. I am always torn between the two. I am also frequently torn between chocolate and coffee. However, I emphatically do not like the month of February, lies, and flies. For me, bravery is defined by the courage to do what we fear the most. I live in Connecticut with my husband and two children. Drop a few lines. I would love to hear from you.

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