Code Name: Forever & Ever by: Natasza Waters ♥ Blog Tour!

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 Code Name: Forever & Ever

(A Warrior’s Challenge, book 5)

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When an Ivy League girl falls for a guy from the wrong side of the tracks, all the cards are stacked against them except one. Patrick Cobbs has just graduated his BUD/S training. His father’s a drunk; his family is poor. He has nothing to offer Marg except the man he wants to become.

Pat’s the last guy Marg’s anti-military parents want for their daughter. With her grandfather’s name etched on the Wall of the Fallen, Marg’s father will do anything to keep them apart. Only one person believes in them, and he’s dead.

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“Are you going to kiss me good night?” Marg’s voice held a haughty little tone.

He bowed his head and chuckled. “No.” Teasing her was too much fun, and he waited to see her reaction.

“Fine,” she quipped and tipped her shoulder. “Bruce did.”

Oh man, oh man. He torqued his brow. “There’s a difference between me and him, Marg.”

She cocked her head. “And that is?”

“When I kiss you for the first time, it’ll be on my terms when you least expect it.”

She clutched her palms together. “I might not feel like kissing you then, Patrick Cobbs. Sure you want to take that chance?”

He chuckled again. Relaxed and straddling his bike, he gazed at her. Smart and beautiful. Most guys would think he was off his rock, tempting fate or her ire. “I’ll take that chance. Let’s do things the old-fashioned way.”

“You make me nuts,” she finally blurted.

An honest laugh erupted from his chest, seeing he was twisting her into a ball of crazy. “This is good training for you, Miss Stines.”

“How?” she barked at him. Her brow squished together.

“Although you say you don’t want to live the life of luxury, I think you’re used to getting what you want.”

Her knuckles collided with her waist. “Are you calling me spoiled?”

“Are you?”

She took a quick step toward him and leaned over. Within an inch of his mouth, her voice slipped into a silky timbre. “No, SEAL, I’m not. You can keep your kisses. I don’t want—”

Execute. His hands palmed her cheeks and his mouth powered down on hers. Every ounce of blood rushed from his head to his heart. Her gorgeous body melted against his, submitting. Holy God in heaven! He’d been right. Kissing this woman coiled his lust tight.

Their kiss blazed and then ended with a slow burn before he gently pulled away. The corner of his mouth curved. “See you Friday.” He kick-started the engine to life.

“Friday…” she said meekly, gazing at him, still stunned.

He winked at her. Before his lust started talking him into screwing up the start to something incredible, he wheeled around the fountain and rode away.

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Code Name: Ghost (A Warrior’s Challenge series Book 1)

Code Name: Kayla’s Fire (A Warrior’s Challenge series Book 2)

Code Name: Nina’s Choice (A Warrior’s Challenge series Book 3)

Code Name: Luminous (A Warrior’s Challenge series Book 4)

Field Stripped: 10 Steamy Military Romances

SEALed with a Weekend

Twila’s Tempest

His Perfect Imperfection

Too Grand for Words (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

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Natasza.jpgNatasza grew up on the beautiful West Coast of British Columbia with the Pacific Ocean on her western doorstep, and thousands of acres of forest on the other. After finishing school, her life took a drastic twist, and a lifelong working relationship with the marine industry began.

After a twenty-year hiatus from creative writing, the stories swirling in her mind began to swim hard to resurface, and she threw them a life ring. She juggles words during her days off, and then gets back down to business, working as an officer in the Coast Guard. Her life is a mix of creativity vs. black and white procedures. With a lifetime of working in the marine community, there’s plenty of stories to tell. It’s a different world, different language, unsung heroes and heroines aplenty, heated moments, and blissful silence when all is well. Reading and writing is the way she turns down the loud hum that work causes, and after thirty years of humming, it’s time to vent.

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Killing Secrets by: K.L. Docter ♥ Book Blast!

Killing Secrets

(Thorne’s Thorns Book 1)

by K.L. Docter

Some secrets are better left dead.

Rachel James’ ex-husband is released from prison determined to reclaim her and her little girl — the child is his key to controlling the James fortune. Frightened, Rachel flees to Denver with the child who hasn’t uttered a word since her daddy went to prison.

Contractor Patrick Thorne wants nothing to do with another of his parents’ charity cases. He failed his own wife so abysmally she took her own life as well as his unborn son’s. After two years, it’s time to concentrate on the bid he’s won and the saboteur trying to destroy his construction firm.

There is no room for trust in either of their hearts. But trust is all that will untangle the secrets that dominate their lives, free a little girl of her silent prison, and save them all from a serial killer who stands too close.

(Stand Alone Novel)

**Thorne’s Thorn Series Book 2, DEAD RINGER, coming soon.

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© Copyright 2014 – K.L. Docter

Four weeks….

Two days….

Sixteen hours….

…‘Til death.

The first time he laid eyes on her, he stood on the threshold of a doorway he dare not cross. He fell into her fathomless dark gaze, unable, unwilling to shake his soul free and, in that one moment, he knew.

She was meant for him to love.

Untouched by the sordid life that flourished around her, she was sunlight in a gray existence. A smile in a dingy room. A joy such as he’d never known. She was a gift from a cold, unforgiving God. Forever innocent.

Why God would give him such a precious angel, he didn’t know. But he suddenly knew what he was willing to die for. What he’d kill for.

In that instant of clarity the monster that lurked in the dark recesses of his mind was freed. A creature designed to kill. To live and die. Over and over again. Until his angel ascended once more to her place in Heaven at God’s feet where he couldn’t reach her.

‘Til death parted them, she was his and his alone.

Certain she’d been lost to him, the shock of spotting her again in LoDo, a lower downtown section of Denver, nearly brought him to his knees. His brain tried to tell him he was mistaken. She had more curves than he remembered. Her hairstyle and clothes were different.

The others were different, too.

He shook his head against the monster’s treacherous whisper. He refused to listen. Couldn’t listen. His angel smiled at him. His soul recognized her. Somehow, some way, his fractious God had been appeased and given him yet another chance.

The past seven days were hell. Watching her. Wanting to take her. Knowing he couldn’t screw up and lose her again. Tonight, his preparations in place, she’d return to his side where she belonged.

Breathing slow and measured through the full-face ski mask he’d bought at a thrift store, he sucked in a lungful of musty stench. In this uncommon late-May heat wave, he was sweating bullets but the wool soaked it up before it could sting his eyes. The itching would drive him insane, though, if she didn’t come home from work soon.

The LoDo sports bar where she waited tables closed almost an hour ago. She couldn’t have gone on a date at two o’clock on a Thursday morning, could she?

Three times he’d entered her ground floor apartment after she’d left for work, and he’d seen no sign she was involved with anyone. No jockey shorts mixed with her panties in the hamper. No extra razor. The food in the refrigerator wasn’t enough to feed a cat, let alone her and a boyfriend, and the only scent on her pillows was floral. The sole message from a male on her answering machine had identified himself as a special research librarian from the Denver Public Library reminding her to pick up the copy of “The Warwick Genealogy” she’d requested.

That doesn’t mean she isn’t still involved with him, the almighty scion of Thorne Enterprises. She’s probably crawling into his bed like a whore right this minute, letting him do things to her, making her scream….

Screams.

Blood.

Death.

“No! Stop!” he whispered. “That was a mistake!”

Was it? The insidious question lashed him from the dark place in his pounding skull.

He rejected the smirking voice, the vivid images. Think of something else. Anything else. Forgetforgetfor—

A car alarm screamed at an outlying parking lot and dragged him out of his fugue. His eyes cleared. The pain behind them eased to a level he’d learned to carry over the years. He took a deep breath to smother his panic.

Soon, he would kill the nightmares forever. Patrick Thorne would die and the secrets with him. But the contractor hadn’t been punished enough yet. Before he finished, he’d ruin Thorne’s reputation, his livelihood, and destroy everything he loved most in the world.

Just as Thorne destroyed our lives. The man must die! Now!

Restless to escape its bonds the monster thrust knife-hot pain into his brain, but he wrestled it back into the shadows and locked it down. Retribution was almost at hand, but not tonight. This night was about her.

Where the hell was she?

There! Her tennis shoes slapped the sidewalk as she approached. He caught a flash of uniform—shorts and sports shirt, both too tight for decency. Then she walked out of the weak light that pooled across the commons into the dark well that led to her door. Her building superintendent had replaced her broken porch light this morning, but he’d smashed it again. He smiled when she cursed someone named Ronnie.

With a jingle of keys, she passed the niche he’d carved for himself in the shrubs. A bunch of adrenaline surged through him, made him light-headed with anticipation. He shook the buzz from his head and crashed out of the bushes with more noise than he intended.

Her head snapped left. She shot a glance over her shoulder. Her eyes widened. She lunged for the safety of her door.

He chased after her, grabbed her by the throat. A squeeze of her windpipe cut off her scream. He didn’t want to damage her too much. He just needed to get her alone.

To atone. To give him another chance.

With her soft body pressed against him, he groaned with pleasure. It had been so long! For a moment he forgot his purpose, lost in the new scent of her, in the innocent softness of her curves against him. Her breasts were full beneath his forearm. The sweet curve of her ass cradled his stiff penis. With another groan, his grip relaxed.

She screamed. Struggling, she broke loose of his hold.

Shit! Reaching out, he snagged her long ponytail and yanked her back hard. With his other hand, he strangled her next scream into a whimper. “Do that again,” he grated, “I’ll use my knife.” The honed blade was secure in his pocket but she didn’t know that.

“I have money,” she croaked. “Three hundred. Tips. In my pocket. Please! Don’t—”

“Shh. Don’t fight me. Shh,” he crooned into her hair. He tugged a chloroform-laced rag from his pants pocket and fitted it over her nose and mouth. “Just give me another chance, Angel, and everything will be fine.”

This time she’d make the right choice because, God only knew, he’d truly go insane if he had to kill her all over again.

 

Bestselling Author Karen Docter writes contemporary romance. When she feels the need to feed the dark side, she writes intense suspense thrillers as K.L. Docter. She’s an award-winning author, a four-time Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® finalist, and won the coveted Kiss of Death Romance Writers Daphne du Maurier Award Category (Series) Romantic Mystery Unpublished division.

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Tempt Me Twice by: Eden Bradley ♥ Re-Release Tour!

Tempt Me Twice

by Eden Bradley

Contemporary menáge m/m/f with a little spanking

In this greatly expanded and rewritten version of one of New York Times Bestseller Eden Bradley’s fan favorites can a romp in the woods with two sexy men turn into a lasting love with her best friend?

Jessie has been in love with her bisexual best friend, Paul, since college. But he’s never made a move on her, and they both value the friendship too much to take any risks with it—or so she believes.

When Paul and his stunning sometime lover Noah coerce Jessie into coming along on a camping trip to Lake Tahoe, she tries to refuse, but their will is stronger than hers. She ends up in a tent in the woods with the two gorgeous men, living out the ultimate female fantasy as their first night turns into a heated tangle of bodies that continues for days.

Jessie knows the intensely erotic—and intensely emotional—experience must come to an end when the trip is over, but when it does, will she lose her best friend, or can friendship turn into something more?

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Paul helped her to her feet, and his hand on hers was an electric shock—that jolting, that hot.

“Whoa, Jess. Hang on.”

“I’m fine. Just have a nice little buzz going.”

He grinned at her. “Maybe more than a little.”

“Maybe.” She grinned back, her body heating all over as he looped an arm around her waist.

A strong, muscular arm, and oh God, the way he smelled!

They moved to the tent, and Noah held the flap back for them. It was a large tent, almost tall enough for Paul to stand up in. Noah was already spreading out their sleeping bags, Paul’s in the middle. Jessie sat down on hers to take off her shoes.

Paul stretched, reaching out to ruffle Noah’s blond hair. “Anyone else tired?”

“A little sleepy from the wine maybe,” Jessie said.

“Me, too. A little.” Noah pulled his shirt over his head, revealing tight abs and a wide chest. A Japanese-style tsunami wave curved over one shoulder. She could make out his muscle tone even in the dim light of the single lantern they’d taken into the tent with them, and it was spectacular. He was spectacular.

It only made her wish that she had her own tent—because how could Paul not want to have sex with him tonight? But even from a neighboring tent, if she had to lie there listening to them have sex, it would be torture.

Paul stripped his shirt off, too. She’d seen him without a shirt before, but it was something she never got over. The lean lines of his body, his smooth skin, his dark nipples surrounded by a sprinkling of black hair. She wanted to put her mouth there, to suck. She wanted to put her mouth everywhere.

She curled her hands into fists, pulling in a deep breath, but it was filled with the scent of two hot men edged with pine and fresh night air, a heady combination.

Stop it. Time to sleep.

The men stripped down to their boxer-briefs as she knelt on her sleeping bag, pretending she didn’t notice. But it was impossible not to notice. Both were hard, both with impressive erections under the dark cotton. She squeezed her thighs tightly, her sex burning with need.

Oh yeah. Gonna die.

Paul glanced at her. “You’re not sleeping in your clothes, are you, Jess? It’s too hot.”

“Um…I guess not.”

She shrugged, wiggled out of her jeans, leaving her in her tank top and underwear. She tried to pretend they weren’t all nearly naked together. As Paul lay down on the sleeping bag next to hers, she could swear she felt the heat from his big body, his scent warm on the night air, and more faintly, Noah’s scent, fresh and all male.

How was she ever going to get to sleep?

When Paul leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, she had to bite her tongue to keep from groaning aloud.

“’Night, Jess.”

“Goodnight.”

“Sleep well,” Noah said.

She lay in the near-dark, moonlight casting shadows inside the tent, doubting she’d ever get to sleep as she listened to the rhythm of the two men breathing and the crickets chirping in the night. It was hot in the tent, and they were all laid out on top of their sleeping bags. She was far too aware of the two bodies next to her. Far too awake, despite the wine.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to shut her mind off, trying to rid it of the images of Paul and Noah, the two of them touching each other. Touching her. But they kept coming, one sensual flash after another, until she was soaking wet, fighting to hold still, to keep her hand from creeping between her thighs, spreading her pussy lips apart to find the hard nub of her clit and bringing herself to a much-needed orgasm. But with the two guys right there and not even the sleeping bag to cover her, all she could do was bite back a moan.

There was a soft sound next to her, and she turned her head. Paul had his back to her, and she could see Noah’s hand resting on his side, then moving down, over the hard muscle of his buttocks. She could barely make out much more than their silhouettes, the shadows of hands, but she could tell they had them all over each other, stroking slowly.

Seriously? They were going to do this with her right there? There hadn’t even been time for her to fall asleep!

Kill me now.

© Eden Bradley 2016

 

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Eden Bradley writes dark, edgy erotica and erotic romance for Berkley Heat (as both Eden Bradley and Eve Berlin), Bantam/Delta, Harlequin Spice and HQN, and Samhain Publishing, as well as indie publishing. Two of her books have been Romantic Times Top Picks, and her novel FORBIDDEN FRUIT was profiled in Cosmopolitan Magazine’s Red Hot Reads column in 2008. More recently her BDSM book THE DARK GARDEN hit the top paperback fiction charts in the UK. She has received or been nominated for numerous awards, including the Holt Medallion and the Passionate Plume, and several of her books have been RT Book Reviews Top Picks. Her books have been translated into German, French, Romanian, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, Czech, Polish, Indonesian and Japanese.

As someone who has been involved in BDSM practice for much of her adult life, she relates in particular to her BDSM and kink stories, infusing them with her own truth about kink practice from her life experiences.

Eden has appeared regularly on Playboy Radio’s ‘Night Calls’ and the Hollywood In the Flesh readings. She loves art, shoes, tattoos, her Boston Terrier puppy, reading smutty books, chocolate and sex, of course, not necessarily in that order.

 

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Eden’s Pinterest boards: http://www.pinterest.com/edenandeve /

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Avarice Unforgiving ♥ Release Day Blitz!

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Synopsis

Run.

That’s Kami’s first instinct when shit gets a little too real for her peace of mind.

Kink was supposed to be an escape, a release, but her mysterious Dom robbed her of that and there’s no going back. Her job was supposed to be an accomplishment, a step forward, but Mr. Kress took that from her and twisted it to his own design.

They want her to submit.

If Kami had her way, they’d both be kissing her ass on her way out the door.

Now, there’s a new threat hanging over her head. An unknown enemy wants to expose all of Kami’s sordid, depraved secrets to the media. Little do they know, that even she has no clue who in the hell she really is…but someone does.

Someone who’s about to reveal an incomprehensible tale. A truth that will unravel Kami’s entire life at the seams. Everything she’s ever believed will be altered as she’s thrust into a world she’d never feared existed, and only one undeniable fact will ring through the loudest:

Running had never been an option.

Trigger/Content Warning: This book contains unorthodox religious views, graphic anal sex, explicit language, dark eroticism, BDSM, violence and references to demonology, paganism and the occult.

Intended for mature 18+ audiences only!

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Excerpt

With her sight disabled, she became more aware that the group behind her were quite chatty and flirty. She also grew increasingly aware of the man whose legs were caging her in, whose lap her bound arms were resting upon. She felt the approach of his heat, and then his hand touched her face. His fingers outlined her lips, played at the seam, before crawling their way inside. They conducted a shallow inspection at first, but gradually sank deeper. The first time she gagged, she thought he would retreat, but she was sadly mistaken. The more she choked, the deeper and more aggressively he stroked his fingers in and out. Kami could feel her eyes watering under the blindfold as she did everything in her power to keep from retching all over him.

Grabbing her bound wrists, he yanked her into his hard chest as he continued to finger-fuck her throat.

“If you can’t even take my fingers, demon, how the hell do you plan on taking my cock?”

Once again his tone was mocking, but there was amusement behind it, rather than the cool displeasure he’d offered the anti-blindfold committee. Kami understood the question was rhetorical. Regardless if she could take it or not, his cock would be down her throat if and when he wanted—and he undoubtedly hoped she choked on it. A strange, rubbery noise sounded right before her. He’d adjusted his mask, she realized. His wet fingers abandoned the inside of her throat, cupping the curve of her jaw, and his mouth crushed down on hers.

It was a whole new kind of oral sex. That was the only way to describe the aggressive, needy assault. His tongue thrust as his lips dominated hers harder and greedier, like there was some kind of climax waiting for him at the end. A preview of his skills, or a promise that it would be the only way he would invade her body, no matter which part of himself he was using? Regardless, it was ferocious, filthy, and the best damn kiss Kami had ever experienced.

She could feel his mask bumping alongside her temple, as if he’d turned the bull snout to the side, but that meant his face was still mostly covered. He must not trust the blindfolds. Did that mean he wasn’t planning on removing the mask at all? Kami hoped not. She wanted him to keep it on. That way her imagination could continue filling in the blanks the way she wanted them, rather than chance being disappointed by reality. She didn’t care how damn shallow that made her. This was her night, and it was already panning out better than any Halloween before it, so no. She didn’t want anything to ruin it.

“Mmm, you taste foolishly brave,” he groaned quietly as he licked and nibbled at her lips, diving back in for one last devastating kiss.

Settling back in the seat, he returned the mask to its rightful place and forced her down onto her knees again. His thumb picked up its previous stroking over her lips, but when her bound wrists slid down the hard plane of his stomach and into his lap, there was no mistaking the bulging line of his erection. The feel of it had her lust spreading hotter, dampening her panties with desperate anticipation.

She earned a soft mocking laugh when she started rubbing her arms over the steely line.

“You like knowing what you do to my cock, demon? How hard you make it just by choking on my fingers?” he asked. “Is that what you were hoping to accomplish while you were dancing for me?”

If he was trying to embarrass her with that insight, he was going to be disappointed. Knowing he knew, that he’d been aware, only turned her on more.

“No, but it’s a start,” she replied.

He laughed appreciatively at that, and it was far more sinister than his mocking laugh. “Ambition and Greed go hand-in-hand, little one. As you said, it’s a start.”

He wanted her to be greedy? He probably shouldn’t have told her that. Before she could reply, the limo slowed to a stop, reigniting the thrill of uncertainty. When the driver opened the door, her bull man climbed out first, then reached inside and hauled her out by the waist.

Once she was on her feet, he grabbed her bound wrists and started leading her across old asphalt. Her heels clicked and wobbled in the rough patches. She thought she heard water lapping and a nearby buoy. It definitely smelled like the docks. The way the noise and voices echoed indicated they were surrounded by warehouses or giant shipping containers.

Again, it should have been a red flag, but Kami wasn’t afraid, only morbidly curious. It took her a moment to realize they were drawing closer to the pulsing bass of music. Her escort paused for a moment before a door opened and it washed over them loud and clear. They stopped directly inside to wait for everyone. When the metal door finally closed, her bull man untied the blindfold.

Blinking in the dimly lit entrance, Kami saw that it was a makeshift foyer with draping velveteen crimson, black-and-white jack-o-lanterns, Gothic candelabras, antiqued mirrors, and other décor that would indicate they were getting ready to enter a vampire’s secret lair. Even the music thumping and crawling over her flesh was more along the lines of Screamo-Goth-Rave, than the Dubstep bass would suggest.

“You know, there are at least a hundred different horror movies that begin this way,” she referred to the space around them by drawing a small square in the air with her index fingers.

A more difficult task than one would think with bound wrists.

“That’s what makes decorating so easy,” he said, pulling her against his body to slip a hand under her skirt and take his fill of her ass cheek. “The question is, was that just an observation or cold feet?”

“My feet never get cold,” she replied.

She barely heard the low rumble of his laugh when he bowed his head right beside her ear. “Careful, demon. Some might take that answer as a deliberate challenge.”

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AboutTheAuthor

A.C. Melody is a quirky, unconventional and often contrary (mostly to herself) hybrid author, both traditionally and self-published. She has a soft spot for hard ass alphas and the strong women who capture their hearts. Her favorite part of writing, is having the ability to explore her favorite subjects from angles she’s never read before. Also, she loves putting her characters through the ringer one way or another, to expose all of the various facets that make them tick.

Outside of writing, A.C. is a confessed javaholic who loves reading, music, gaming, American Football, ancient civilizations, foreign cultures and everything supernatural. She has an insatiable curiosity that tends to earn her more hobbies than time. You can find her in the beautifully green Pacific Northwest with her two teenage sons and two blue-eyed, Himalayan-Siamese mixes who think they own the joint.

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Always Wanting by Alex Grayson ♥ Release Day Blitz!

IT’S LIVE!

My name is Abigail Summers, and I’m addicted to sex. Yes, you read right. I’m a woman that craves… no, needs to have a man take my body on a daily basis. If I don’t have sex at least once a day, my body shakes from withdrawals, my stomach cramps with unbearable pain, my sexually hazed mind goes haywire, and I become extremely irritable and a major bitch. This isn’t a lifestyle I’ve chosen for myself. It’s a struggle I deal with every single day.

I don’t do relationships, because what man wants to be stuck knowing his girl may be out having sex with some random guy if he’s not available? You may think this is something that I can control, but I say screw you; you’ve never been in my shoes before.

The cravings may be something I can’t control, but I’ve learned to embrace them. I’ve tried the sexual addiction support groups. I’ve tried curbing my appetites. I’ve been shunned, criticized, ridiculed, and called every nasty name under the sun. Well, I say fuck all you judgmental assholes. I’ll have sex with who I want, when I want, where I want. Embarrassment? That’s a thing of the past. This is my life now, and those that don’t like it can go straight to hell.

But then he came along and screwed everything up. Colt Maverick. For once in my life, I want more, crave more from one guy. A guy that’s sweet and doesn’t match my hard interior. A guy that looks at me like he wants to eat me alive and claim me as his own. A guy that will most definitely not be okay with my addiction. A guy that I want over and over again, not because my body demands it, but because I demand it.

I now have a new addiction. But will he be enough to satisfy my uncontrollable desires?

“Which is it, Abby?” I growl, needing to know if I should kick this guy’s ass for hurting her, or kick his ass for daring to touch what is mine.

“Neither.”

She shakes her head, swallows, then looks up at me. Her eyes carry the same confusion I’m feeling.

“I didn’t want him, but he wasn’t hurting or forcing me, either.”

“Abby, what—”

“Take me back to my place,” she blurts out, interrupting me.

For the first time tonight, I notice the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the paleness of her cheeks. She doesn’t look like she feels well. My ire dies, and concern takes over. Her eyes once again drop from mine when she sees my worry. I bend my knees and force her to look at me when I get in her face.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she mumbles. “I just want to get out of here.”

I don’t believe her, but when I see the pinch of pain on her face, I decide to force the issue later, once we’re alone.

“My place.” I back away and grab her hand. “It’s closer,” I add when she looks like she wants to object.

Luckily, she nods.

The forgotten guy on the floor has managed to sit up and lean against the wall, still holding his nose and stomach. My eyes narrow at him when he looks up and spots us. The bastard shrinks back further against the wall at my look.

Smart man.

“The back door,” Abby murmurs and pulls on my hand, leading me to a back entrance.

After stepping outside into the dark alleyway, Abby stumbles to a stop several feet from the door. I look to see what’s wrong and find her staring at me. The look in her eyes is hard to distinguish. I see pain, uncertainty, and a hint of what looks like desire. The desire is what confuses me. She’s obviously hurting, so how can she be turned on at the same time?

“Blue,” she says softly, her hand tightening in mine.

“What is it?” I ask, stepping into her space.

What’s up with this woman? Something’s off with her, and I need to find out what it is before she drives me crazy.

The hand she was using to hold mine releases its grip and lands on my lower stomach. Her other hand trails a path up my chest and snakes around my neck. I gaze down at her in bewilderment when she steps closer and plasters her front to mine, her tits flattening against my hard chest.

She grips the waistband of my jeans. “I need you,” she whispers harshly.

My dick jerks, and I want nothing more than to sink my hands into her plump ass, lift her up, and sink inside her, but I don’t. I need to get her home and find out what’s wrong with her first.

“Let’s get you back to my place.”

“No,” she whimpers. She raises her hands and digs her nails into my scalp. “I need you, Blue. Please.”

Alex Grayson is originally from the south, but has recently moved to Northern Ohio. Although she misses the warmth of Florida and often times detest the cold of Ohio, she absolutely loves living in the north. Her and her husband bought a house on two acres of land and live there with their daughter, son, one dogs, two cats, eight ducks, and three chickens. She hopes to eventually get a couple of goats to add to their country way of living. Besides her family and home, her next best passion is reading. She is often found with her nose obsessively stuck in a book, much to the frustration of her husband and daughter. On more than one occasion Alex found herself wanting a book to go a certain way, but it didn’t. With these thoughts in mind, she decided to start writing stories according to her own visions. Although this is a new endeavor for her, she hopes that readers find her concepts on romance intriguing and captivating. Alex welcomes and encourages feedback, of any kind. She can be contacted at alexgraysonauthor@gmail.com.

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Pre-Order & Giveaway ♥ In The Best Interest of The Child by: Felicia Denise!

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Book Title: In the Best Interest of the Child
Author: Felicia Denise
Genre: Women’s Fiction/Psychological
Release Date: September 30, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

Ten-year-old Olivia Chandler has a school she loves, good friends, a nice home, a talented mom, and a successful father she adores. Tragedy rips all of this away from her, and plunges Olivia into the foster care system, where for eight years she is neglected, humiliated, abused, and nearly raped.

Fate smiles on Olivia shortly before she ages out of the system, allowing her the means to attend college and law school.

Years later, Olivia is a successful child advocate attorney, giving a voice to children who are so easily ignored by those claiming to act in their best interest. She has little time for personal relationships, and her lifelong fear of abandonment reminds her never to get too close to anyone.

The successful attorney stumbles though when she’s assigned a case by the court that too closely mirrors her own haunted childhood. Olivia never gives her minor clients less than her all, and the only way she can help her eleven year old client is to face down and acknowledge her demons. This same case also brings a man into her life who sees her for who she truly is, and will not allow Olivia to push him away.

excerpt

Making sure Rena was still sleeping, Olivia exited her vehicle, following the sidewalk to the driveway where a flatbed tow truck came fully into view. A large, burly, dark haired man was winching a late model Mercedes up onto the flatbed. Nearby, a far shorter man stood with his arms folded across his chest obviously not happy. As she got closer, Olivia believed the shorter man to be near her age, even though a head full of curly black hair gave him a more youthful appearance. Olivia smiled as she passed the tow truck driver, noticing how his eyes lingered on her hips. The shorter man didn’t seem to notice her until she was right in front of him, and he started as though coming out of a trance.

“Hello. Can I help you?” Olivia widened her smile.

“Hello. I’m looking for the Bellamy residence.” He regarded her warily.

“I’m Courtney Bellamy. What can I do for you?” She stuck out her right hand.

“Mr. Bellamy, I’m Olivia Chandler, Rena’s court-appointed attorney. It’s nice to meet you.” Courtney Bellamy visibly relaxed.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Chandler. My wife, Marissa, mentioned you were meeting with Rena today. We can go inside and chat shortly, I just have to see when this guy will have my car up and running.” He spoke the last part of the sentence in a raised voice, making sure the tow truck driver heard him. The driver pulled a face in his direction.

“C’mon, Court! I don’t even know what’s wrong with it. How can I tell you when it will be fixed?”

“There is way too much going on in this family for us to depend on one car, Bruce. There will be whining, tears and harsh words…and my wife will be upset too!” Olivia and Bruce both laughed out loud at Courtney’s snarky comment.

“Let me get it back to the shop and find the problem. If it’s not a quick fix, I have a loaner vehicle you can use until yours is ready. Deal?” Courtney pumped his fist in the air.

“This is why you’re my favorite mechanic! I love you, man!” Bruce guffawed.

“No. I’m your favorite mechanic because I’m your cousin and give you family discounts!”

“Well, there’s that too,” Courtney quipped. Reaching for the side door entrance, Courtney Bellamy addressed Olivia.

“Forgive me, Ms. Chandler. Would you like to have a seat inside while I wrap this up?”

“Please, it’s Olivia. And actually, I have a sleeping Rena in my car out front.”

“Oh! I thought the medical shuttle was bringing her home. And call me Courtney.”

“That was the initial plan, but she was getting tired, and I didn’t want her to have to sit and wait not knowing how long the shuttle would take to get to her. Bringing her myself was easier.”

“How kind of you. Let me grab her chair, and I’ll meet you out front.”

“Sounds good.” Olivia turned and started back down the driveway.” Courtney threw one last taunt at his cousin.

“Bruce, if you put one scratch on my baby, I’m calling your mother!”

“And if you call my mother, I will call YOUR mother and tell her who really broke the garage window when we were kids.” Courtney gasped.

“You wouldn’t dare!” he countered.

“Stay away from my mother, and I’ll stay away from yours.” He caught Olivia’s eye as she passed and winked. She laughed at the easy banter of the cousins, and just for a second wondered what it was like to have someone in your life who had known you all of your life. She heard her name being called just as she reached the sidewalk. Olivia turned to see Bruce jogging towards her. He stopped only after he had more than invaded her personal space. He was taller than she first thought. Her three inch heels put her at an even five foot, ten inches, and she still had to take a step back and raise her head to fully see his face. His light brown eyes had an amused glint to match the devilish smirk on his clean shaven face. His collar length dark brown hair was curly, though not as much as Courtney’s, and had the beginnings of grey at the temples much like her own.

“Forgive me if I’m being forward, Ms. Chandler, but I wanted to give you my business card. I own Bellamy’s over on Mason. If you ever need anything…um, for your car…give me a call. She reached for the card. “Anything…at all.” The man was positively shameless. Olivia couldn’t help but grin.

“Call me Olivia, and thank you. That’s nice of you.” Glancing at the card in her hand, a realization suddenly dawned on her. “Wait. You’re that Bellamy? Bellamy Motorsports of “We have twelve locations to serve you in Hennepin and Olmstead counties?” His face took on the brightest shade of red as he blushed like a teenager.

“Guess you’ve seen our commercials, huh?” She laughed as she backed towards her car.

“Yes. A time or two…or twelve. The commercials never mentioned you were so…hands on.” His eyes widened, but she pointed at the tow truck and continued before he could respond. “The boss answering service calls?” He slid his hands into his back pockets and cocked his head to the side.

“Okay, you got me. But Court won’t let anyone else touch his Precious. I was with him the day he bought her, but I’m not sure who owns whom. Marissa always teases him by telling him she leaving and he can have the house, but she’s taking the kid and the car. He nearly has a heart attack.”

Olivia reached her car and noticed Rena was still sleeping. There was no sign of Courtney at the front door yet. She heard movement behind her and noticed Bruce had taken a couple of steps in her direction.

“I didn’t see a ring. Are you married?”

“No.”

“Involved?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna be?” Olivia laughed in spite of herself.

“You’re definitely not the shy type, are you Bruce?”

“Nope. But I’m usually not this forward either.” Suddenly serious, he continued. “It’s just not everyday I meet a woman I’m so drawn to.” The sincerity in his voice caused her pulse to race.

“I’m flattered, Bruce.” He started to say something else, but both their attention was drawn to the front door as Courtney backed the wheelchair down the one step entrance, then turned and headed towards Olivia’s car.

“Olivia?” She glanced in Bruce’s direction, but looked away quickly, unable to hold his intense gaze. “Olivia?” Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze. “Call me.” She smiled and gave him a single nod. His attention made her feel light-headed, but she knew she’d never call him. She couldn’t. He definitely seemed like the type of man who wanted all or nothing…and nothing was all she had.

Courtney brought the wheelchair to a stop in front of her. “Cinderella’s carriage has arrived. Shall we wake her?” Olivia moved to the car door as she unlocked it with the remote. She reached in to unfasten Rena’s seatbelt, but caught the banter between the cousins.

“Bruce, go fix my car.”

“Shut it, Court!”

“I’m nominating your house for Thanksgiving dinner this year!”

“And I’ll nominate yours for Christmas dinner! And I’ll insist great-aunt Mae bring her dogs…all four of them!”

“You’re an evil man, Bellamy.”

“We share DNA, Bellamy.”

If Olivia didn’t know they were grown men, she would have sworn they were seventh graders. Rena began to stir, and looked around, confused.

“Hey angel. You’re home.” Still disoriented, Rena tried to sit upright. She cried in obvious pain and gripped Olivia’s arm. “It’s okay, angel! It’s okay, I got you. Just breathe through it. C’mon, now. Breathe.” Olivia took her own advice and took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. She couldn’t comfort the child if she needed comfort herself.

“Olivia?” She looked back at Courtney. “She’s as light as a feather, but that cast adds weight. Step back and I’ll transfer her to the chair.” Rena still held Olivia’s arm, but her grip was loosening.

“You okay, angel? Mr. Bellamy wants to transfer you to the chair. You’ll probably feel better once you can stretch out in your bed, okay?” Rena nodded, and Olivia stepped back out of the way to give Courtney room to transfer her to the chair. She could feel Bruce’s eyes on her but refused to look at him. Her face grew hot and she felt awkward and out of place. Her resolve was weakening and she was about to look in his direction, when a green minivan pulled up behind her car. Bruce clapped his hands together excitedly.

“Oh yeah! The fun is really about to start.” Olivia could tell he was enjoying the moment and glanced back to the minivan not knowing what to expect. A plump woman hurriedly exited the van and rushed towards them. She was short – maybe an even five feet in height – and African American with a mass of hair worn in a long, natural, wavy style. Though plump, her hourglass shape was more than obvious. She wore very little makeup, and she didn’t need too. Her full lips and smooth brown skin were enhanced by large expressive eyes that right now were filled with worry.

“What happened? Is everything alright?” Just as she reached Olivia’s car, Courtney raised Rena into his arms, pivoted, and placed her into the wheelchair. The woman glanced from face to face waiting for an answer. She threw a quick wave in Bruce’s direction, and he returned it. Olivia smiled at her while Courtney leaned over Rena’s chair and kissed the woman on the cheek.

“Hi, Honey. This is Rena’s attorney, Olivia Chandler, and she just brought the munchkin home. Olivia, this is my wife, Marissa.” She took Olivia’s outstretched hand in both of hers and squeezed.

“Oh yes. We spoke on the phone. So nice to meet you. And thank you for seeing her home.” She lightly patted Rena’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “Hey Munchkin. Did you hit all your markers in therapy today?” Rena nodded slightly.

“All except the steps. I could only do two.” Marissa stepped behind her chair and started towards the front door.

“That’s still good. Remember last week you could only do one? Progress, munchkin, progress.” She stopped suddenly and turned around. “Courtney, what are you doing here?”

He folded his arms across his chest defiantly.

“I live here.”

Bruce, Rena and Olivia all snickered. Marissa pursed her lips.

“It’s the middle of the day, Courtney.” He started.

“Oh! Geeze, yes. So much happening at once. The school called me. Brian has a low grade fever and an upset stomach. He’s up in his room. The school nurse said she called you first, but didn’t get an answer. I figured you were still with your mom at the dialysis center.”

“They were short staffed today for some reason, so Mom got a late start on her treatment.” She glanced up at the house. I told that boy to go easy on the chili con carne last night. He never listens and this always happens.” She nodded her head in Bruce’s direction. “And why is Bigfoot here?” The laugh escaped Olivia’s mouth before she could suppress it. These people were nuts…and she loved it. Bruce shot a glance at her and mouthed the word “traitor.”

“After I got Bri settled inside, I was going to return to the office, and my car wouldn’t start. I called Bruce to come over and diagnose the problem, but…she’s really sick. He has to take her in.” Courtney Bellamy looked as though tears might be a real possibility.

Marissa turned her head and covered her mouth to hide the grin. She looked back and addressed Olivia.

“Please excuse our family. We’re not usually this scatterbrained and dysfunctional. And we usually care more about our sick children than our sick cars.” Before Olivia could tell her they were all just fine, Bruce chimed in.

“Look up ‘dysfunctional’ in Webster’s and you’ll find our family portrait.” Marissa popped a clenched fist on one hip and shot back.

“Don’t you have little children to scare or people to annoy?”

“Yes, and here I am!”

“Problem child!”

“Diva!”

“Yeti!”

“Smurfette!”

Olivia heard someone join her in the laughter, but when she glanced at Courtney, his eyes were full of love and fixed on his wife. Olivia stepped around Marissa and looked down at Rena, who had dissolved into a fit of laughter. She clutched her bag of snacks with one hand and her stomach with the other. Olivia’s heart melted at the sight. She then noticed Courtney had stepped behind his wife, sliding his hand around her waist. Rena was still laughing when he softly said, “Once they get started, they won’t stop until Rena laughs.” He kissed his wife behind the ear while giving the thumbs up to his cousin.

Olivia was taken aback. Most of what she’d just witnessed was a performance purely for Rena’s benefit. She was so glad she had not prejudged these people and admonished herself for any negative thoughts she may have had about them. These were good, loving people who were just living life. Parents and kids get sick and cars break down, but it didn’t distract them enough that they didn’t have time for a little girl who was…at least temporarily…an orphan. Although Olivia was sure the Bellamys and Averests must have had a pretty strong friendship for Courtney and Marissa to take Rena in, she felt this family would probably help any child in need. Olivia followed as Marissa pushed Rena into the house, but something made her stop and look over in Bruce’s direction. He was still standing there, hands in pockets, focused on her. Shaking her head, she smiled at him, which caused him to throw a big toothy grin back at her.

Marissa had cleared the doorway and Courtney held the door for Olivia. When she walked past him, he touched her arm lightly and quietly said, “He’s a good guy.” Her face heated up again, but she was rescued when she heard Marissa call out to her to follow her voice to get to Rena’s room.

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meet the author

An avid reader from a very early age, Felicia would re-write the stories she read, making the women a little bit tougher. Not to outdo the men, but raised by parents who taught their six daughters to always stand up for themselves, and to always “be a lady”, Felicia has very little patience with ‘crybabies’ – female or male. Introduced to creative writing in grade school, Felicia amused herself by creating stories, poems, and song lyrics…that she never showed to anyone.

Now embracing the concept of sharing, Felicia’s first published novel, In The Best Interest of the Child” debuts in September 2016.

Felicia left the harsh winters of Michigan and now resides in Arizona with her husband of more than thirty years, who’s always trying to read over her shoulder. Their three adult children are scattered around Arizona. She is looking forward to having grandchildren, but feels she may win the lottery first…or get struck by lightning. Though she enjoys a good rain storm, Felicia no longer goes outside when it rains. She’s not taking any chances.

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Release Day Blitz ♥ Endless Obsession by: Alex Grayson!

 

IT’S LIVE!

Official Blurb:
I’ve silently watched her for a year, staying hidden in the shadows, biding my time.
She may know me as two different men, but she doesn’t have a clue what I’ve done.
She unknowingly became mine the minute my eyes touched her beauty.
But I’ve done things. Things she may not be able to forgive.
I know all her secrets, her habits, her preferred coffee, what she does in her spare time, her favorite lingerie brand, even that she sleeps naked.
At night, I watch her from her window. During the day, I watch her from my computer. She innocently bares her heart and body to me, and I soak up every single fucking second.

I’ve stayed away, but I’m tired of watching from afar. It’s time Poppy finds out just who I am and what I’m willing to do to take what’s mine. She may hate me when she finds out what I’ve done, but she has no choice but to accept it.

 

She will be my wife.

She will mother my children.

I will claim every part of her heart, body, and soul.

Anything else is unacceptable.

Poppy Lexington has become my endless obsession. I will become her uncontrollable addiction.

 

Unknown: Have you enjoyed the flowers I’ve sent you?
I freeze, except for my eyes, which pop open wide in shock. My breath gets caught in my throat when I realize this must be my mystery flower guy.

Holy hell! It’s him!

Why in the world is he texting me? After all this time, why contact me now? And what in the hell do I say to him? It’s become a routine. I’ve gotten used to getting the roses and not knowing who they are from. Question after question runs through my mind. Who is he? Why send me flowers? Why not introduce himself? Where did he first see me? How did he find out where I worked? And how in the hell did he get my number?
That’s my number one question, so I ask him.
Me: How did you get my number?
It only takes seconds for me to receive a reply, and I’m not sure how to take it.
Unknown: I have my ways. You didn’t answer my question.
He has his ways? What is that supposed to mean? My chest tightens with fear at his answer. I push back the fear and ask another question I’m dying to know.
Me: They’re beautiful, thank you. Who are you?

Unknown: You’ll find out soon enough.

 

Umm… say what? Another question avoided. My eyes narrow in suspicion.

Me: I’m not sure I like that answer. I have no idea who you are. What if I don’t want to know you once I find out?

 

I notice the time on my phone and pull the second thigh-high up my leg, keeping my eyes on the screen the entire time. This is really weird, him having my number. I’m sure it’s not too hard to get the information, but it’s the point that he went through the trouble to get it. I hate being left in the dark like this.

 

My phone dings again, and I quickly grab it.

 

Unknown: You’ll want to know me. Trust me.

Trust him? That’s laughable. How can he think I’ll trust him when I have no idea who he is?

 

Me: It’s hard to trust someone I don’t know.

 

I slip my feet in my heels as I wait for him to reply. It’s doesn’t take long.

 

Unknown: You’ll learn.

Unsure of how to respond to that, I walk back to the kitchen to get a travel mug of coffee ready. He seems so confident, and cocky. Maybe a little too much, since it’s coming from a total stranger. How can he be so sure?

 

I type out my original question again.
Me: Who are you?
Unknown: Soon…

I grip my phone in frustration. Now that he’s contacted me, the need to know who sends me roses every week is overwhelming. It’s no longer a curiosity—I need to know. I should be more afraid, but I’m not, and that gives me pause. Why am I not more fearful? He’s obviously hiding something, right? But what?

He sends another text before I get a chance to reply.
Unknown: Have a good day at work, Beautiful.
What? That’s it? He has flowers delivered to me every week for eight months, messages me out of the blue with cryptic messages, then wishes me a good day at work? Pissed off vibes has my gut clenching. How dare he contact me and leave me hanging.
Me: That’s it? That’s all I get out of you?
I flip the off switch on the coffee pot, grab my now full travel mug, my purse, and with phone still in hand, I leave my house, locking it up behind me.

I’m buckling my seatbelt when he replies.

Unknown: For now, yes.

Oh no, that doesn’t work for me. He needs to give me something. He can’t just expect me to accept his non-answers.

 

Me: How do you know me? How do you know where I work?
Unknown: I know a lot of things about you, Poppy.
Me: You’re not helping your case of me wanting to know you. It’s freaking me out that you know stuff about me, personal stuff, when I don’t even know your name. That’s not normal. It’s pretty stalkerish, don’t you think?

I notice the time on my phone again and see I have a few minutes before I need to leave, so I decide to wait for his reply.

Unknown: Just call me Mr. A for now. Have a safe trip to work.
Alex Grayson is originally from the south, but has recently moved to Northern Ohio. Although she misses the warmth of Florida and often times detest the cold of Ohio, she absolutely loves living in the north. Her and her husband bought a house on two acres of land and live there with their daughter, son, one dogs, two cats, eight ducks, and three chickens. She hopes to eventually get a couple of goats to add to their country way of living. Besides her family and home, her next best passion is reading. She is often found with her nose obsessively stuck in a book, much to the frustration of her husband and daughter. On more than one occasion Alex found herself wanting a book to go a certain way, but it didn’t. With these thoughts in mind, she decided to start writing stories according to her own visions. Although this is a new endeavor for her, she hopes that readers find her concepts on romance intriguing and captivating. Alex welcomes and encourages feedback, of any kind. She can be contacted at alexgraysonauthor@gmail.com.

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