We're honored and thrilled to participate in Pam Godwin's DELIVER Blog Tour, hosted by the lovely Amber's Reading Room.
We stalk Pam Godwin, in all social media forums, as often as possible, almost to the point that Pam will probably press charges against us one day but it will be worth it because she's a writing goddess. We're huge fans of her writing and her ability to create a story and characters so complex, dark and compelling that you have no choice but to become completely invested in their journey - DELIVER is a perfect example of this. Josh and Liv's love story gutted us, totally fucked with our heads, and had us turned on in the most twisted way that only Pam Godwin can... just when you think you feel a certain way about a character, Pam makes you question your own judgement. Oh and Joshua Carter, sigh, he owned us... so beautifully vulnerable but yet so strong and so..... slutty... you will want to kidnap and molest the crap out of him, too. A must, must read!
Today, read a character interview with Josh & Liv, an excerpt, and our favorite book moments/quotes, watch a KILLER book trailer, check out our dreamcast, and enter to Win a SIGNED Paperback of DELIVER - 5 Winners! Enjoy & Good Luck! "You're going to hell." His lips twitched then erupted into a full-faced smile. "Oh, good, I was worried you'd be there without me."
- Deliver by Pam Godwin Character Interview with Josh & Liv! (contains spoilers)
Regrets, Love, Sex, and Van Questions for Josh & Liv:
What are you biggest regrets in life?
Liv: Turning the gun on Van
Josh: Not standing up to my parents when I was younger
If you could redo one moment in your life, what would it be and why?
Liv: I wish I would’ve been open with Van and pushed harder to learn his secrets. He knew things about Mom, and maybe that knowledge could’ve prevented the crash.
Josh: I would redo the night in the railroad station with Traquero. I should’ve stopped it, should’ve protected her.
What is the first word that comes to mind when you think of Josh/Liv?
Liv: Stubborn
Josh: Mistress
What do you love most about the other?
Liv: His stubbornness
Josh: Her fierceness
What is a fun fact about the other we don't know?
Liv: He snores.
Josh: She sings off-key when she drinks.
How has having Josh/Liv in your life, and finding love in the darkest moments, changed you most?
Liv: He freed me from my past.
Josh: She freed me from my future.
Questions for Josh:
What was it initially about Liv that made you want to trust her and help her? Considering she lied to you, kidnapped you, and tortured you?
Early on, her mask didn’t slip often, but when it did, I glimpsed the girl she hid beneath. The
subtle creases around her eyes, her inward focus, the pain branded on her cheek—all of it evidence a survivor, held captive by her situation.
What got you through suriving the locked box? Your faith? Inner strength?
At the time, it didn’t feel like hope. But looking back, it was the vibration that fluttered through my soul and hummed a tune born with wings and goodness. Hope shared that
suffocating space with me and never stopped singing in the days that followed.
You went from a very inexperienced virgin to a horny slut who basically had no boundaries when it came to exploring your naughty side (um, holy strap-on scene), this was kinda shocking to read, what the hell happened?
My naughty side is an innate part of me. Inexperience had kept it cloistered and neglected. Perhaps captivity made me vulnerable and loosened the lock, but it was Liv who showed me how to free it.
Can we get a little dirty? Three words to describe your first sexual experience with Liv?
Hot. Hard. Hers.
Questions for Liv:
What made you finally break when it came to Josh?
When Mr. E told Josh he was free to go, I watched the struggle tighten his face and harden his stance. He didn’t want to leave me, the woman who led him to chains and stripped him of
his innocence. Through his protection and selflessness, he owned me then and every day after.
Will you share with us why you held back from telling Josh about the other slaves you delivered?
I hoped for a solution that would send Josh back to his parents. The more he knew about the operation, the harder it would’ve been to free him. If he’d known what we were doing, he
would’ve had to lie about it to the authorities. He’s an honest person. I couldn’t put him in that situation.
Your relationship and feelings for Van are very complex, to say the least, have you gained any clarity now that Josh is in your life? or after Van's actions at the end?
Van is never far from my thoughts, and now that I’ve experienced love and forgiveness, my feelings for him are a labyrinth of regret and compassion and confusion. I have so many
questions, so many things I want to say to him. Perhaps I’ll always look over my shoulder, hoping to confront the cut of his silver eyes.
What is your relationship with Livana like now?
While I may never be her mother, I cherish the monumental role I hold in her life. A role which allows me to say her name just to look into her eyes. To hug her when she cries.
To help her with homework and watch her blow out birthday candles. Someday, when
she’s ready, I’ll tell her who I am. And I’ll tell her about Van. Excerpt: Josh and Liv - His Deliverer He repeated the twelve requirements with fewer and fewer errors, until he relayed them perfectly. His body molded to the words, his chin dropping, thighs opening, no hint of resistance in his voice. She knew he wasn’t losing himself. He was acclimating. For her.
Her body heated and tightened. He was the strength and heart of the most
dangerous jump.
He was the soul of bravery wrapped in chains. He would never fall, no matter
how much metal weighted him down. He was a man who loved selflessly and honestly, and she was taking him to a monster who would slice him open and fuck the incision.
She gripped the wheel with two fists, unable to steer off course, unable to
save him from herself. Deliver Dreamcast: Meet Josh and Liv! Watch the EPIC Book Trailer for Deliver!
We got chills! Deliver Book Synopsis and Purchase Button His name was Joshua Carter. Now it's whatever she wants it to be.
She is a Deliverer.
She lures young men and delivers them to be sold. She delivers the strikes that enforce their obedience. She delivers
the sexual training that determines their purchase price.
As long as she delivers, the arrangement that protects her family will hold.
Delivering is all she knows.
The one thing she can't deliver is a captive from slavery.
Until him.
And her stubborn slave thinks he can deliver her...from herself.
Content warning: Graphic sex, violence, and psychological abuse. Age 18+ only.
"Mistress, I love your smile. If I could free it once a day, it might make the next ten weeks bearable."
- Deliver by Pam Godwin Author Bio: Meet the Fabulous Pam Godwin! Pam Godwin lives in Missouri with her husband, their two
children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away, she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band. Now, she resides in her hometown, earning her living as a portfolio research analyst, and living her yearning as a writer.
Java, tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be considered more unhealthy than
her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls with blinking eyes.
Stalk Pam Godwin: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
Other Must Read Books by Pam Godwin! Tour Giveaway: Win A Signed Copy of DELIVER! 5 Winners!
Today we are participating in the C.R.A.S.H Dash! We are Day 13 of this Scavenger Hunt and we are "racing" it. We have a portion of Chapter 12 in Colton's POV and it is no secret how much we LOVE Colton! Plus, K. Bromberg is offering a SIGNED SWAG PACK exclusive to TRSOR!
Here is how the scavenger hunt works:
The premise of Colton & Rylee’s Awesome Scavenger Hunt (CRASH) is to create a fun task list for readers to complete and at the same time experience their own Driven Trilogy trip down memory lane like in Crashed. There are 22 tasks. Readers must complete 20 of the 22 tasks to be entered into the final grand prize drawing.
The grand prize is a complete signed set of the Driven Trilogy and there will be a few runner ups as well. This is meant to be fun and readers can get as creative as they want with it.
Please visit the C.R.A.S.H. Dash Facebook Page or K. Bromberg's Website for more information and how you submit your proof of task completed.
Have fun and Good Luck! Colton's POV: DAY 13 I know she can give me what I need—quiet the demons in my head that torment my soul and parasitic heart—like the adrenaline of losing myself in the blur at the track, but I can’t do that to her. I can’t in good conscience hold on to her so tight in order to lose my demons when it’s causing hers to invade her sleep. I can’t take the pleasure when it’s causing her all of the pain.
Before, I could. I would have. But this is Rylee here. The selfless soul who means too fucking much to me. So, no I can’t.
Not now. Today's Task:
Take a picture with you and a superhero See Days 1-12 of the C.R.A.S.H. Dash & Upload your photo
HERE Driven Trilogy
Book Summaries & Purchase Links GIVEAWAY Previous Posts for the Driven Trilogy K. Bromberg's books keep getting better and better. Her writing grows with each book. It becomes sexier, wittier and the depth of the characters is outstanding.
Crashed is book three in the Driven Trilogy. It is angsty, sexy and intriguing. You will see Colton and Rylee's relationship grow and ignite into something beautiful, real and wonderful. This book had me on the edge of my seat, frantically turning the page. Colton is still a little boy in a grown man's body and your heart hurts for him. He is no longer as broken as he once was and with Rylee's love and understanding, he becomes the swoon worthy wonderful man we all have grown to love. Crashed is everything we have been waiting for - it is sexy, funny and a fabulous ending to an amazing HIGHLY RECOMMENDED series.
Two Words: Colton Donovan. We're obsessed! Excerpt from Crashed
Book Three “Neglecting me?”
“Yes, not treating you properly,” he says as he slaps my butt; the sting it leaves has nothing on the shock waves that ripple through the hypersensitive flesh between my thighs. “You’ve been taking care of me—of everyone else but yourself as usual—and I haven’t properly taken care of you.”
“I do believe you did just take care of me … and quite properly,” I tease, wiggling my naked body up against his and earning the hum that comes from deep within his throat. “If that’s considered not taking care of me—neglecting me—Ace, then please...” I nip at the skin on the underside of his jaw “...neglect me some more.”
“My God, woman, you test a man’s restraint,” he groans as his hands run down my spine and clasp together against my lower back. “But, that was just a minor sidetrack to—”
“Minor is not what I’d call it,” I quip with a raise of my eyes and another wiggle of my hips that causes him to laugh out loud. “I’ll take one of your sidetracks any day.”
“Bet your ass you will,” he teases with a quick squeeze of my hips.
 When life crashes down around us, how hard are we willing to fight for the one thing we can’t live without, each other?
Life is full of moments.
Big moments.
Little moments.
And none of them are inconsequential.
Every single moment prepares you for that one instance that defines your life. You must overcome all your fears, confront the demons that chase you, and cleanse the poison that clings to your soul or you risk the chance of losing everything.
Mine started the minute Rylee fell out of that damn storage closet. She made me feel. Made me whole when all I thought I could ever be was incomplete. Became the lifeline I never knew I needed. Hell yes, she’s worth the fight…but how do you fight for someone you know you don’t deserve?
Love is full of ups and downs.
Heart stopping highs.
Soul shattering lows.
And none of them are insignificant.
Love is a racecourse of unexpected twists and turns that must be negotiated. You have to break down walls, learn to trust, and heal from your past in order to win. But sometimes it’s the expected that’s the hardest to hold on to.
Colton has healed and completed me, stolen my heart, and made me realize our love’s not predictable nor perfect—it’s bent. And bent’s okay. But when outside factors put our relationship to the test, what lengths will I have to go to prove to him that he’s worth the fight?
Whoever said love is patient and love is kind, never met the two of us. We know our love is worth it—have acknowledged that we were meant to be—but when our pasts crash into our future, will the repercussions make us stronger or break us apart?
Driven Trilogy  Rylee Thomas is used to being in control. But she’s about to meet the one man that just might make her enjoy losing it…
I am the exception to the rule.
In a world full of willing women, I’m a challenge to the roguish and achingly handsome Colton Donavan. A man used to getting exactly what he wants in all aspects of life. He’s the reckless bad boy constantly skating that razor thin edge toward out of control, on and off of the track.
Colton crashes into my life like a tornado: sapping my control, testing my vulnerabilities beyond their limits, and unintentionally penetrating the protective wall around my healing heart. Tearing apart the world I rebuilt so carefully with structure, predictability, and discipline.
I can’t give him what he wants and he can’t give me what I need. But after a glimpse beneath his refined exterior into the dark secrets of his damaged soul, can I bring myself to walk away?
Our sexual chemistry is undeniable. Our individual need for complete control is irrefutable. But when our worlds collide, is the chemistry enough to bring us together or will our untold secrets and battle of wills force us apart?
 Book #2 of the Driven Trilogy
What happens when the one person you never expected suddenly happens to be the one you’ll fight the hardest to keep?
Colton stole my heart. He wasn't supposed to, and I sure as hell didn't want him to, but he crashed into my life, ignited feelings within me that I thought had died forever, and fueled a passion that I never knew could exist.
Rylee fell out of that damn storage closet and into my life. Now I don't think I'll ever be the same. She's seen glimpses of the darkness within me, and yet she's still here. Still fighting for me. She is without a doubt the saint, and I am most definitely the sinner.
How is it the one thing neither of us wanted—neither of us anticipated that fateful night—has us fighting so hard to keep?
He steals my breath, stops my heart, and brings me back to life again all in a split second of time. But how can I love a man who won't let me in? Who continually pushes me away to prevent me from seeing the damaged secrets in his past? My heart has fallen, but patience and forgiveness can only go so far.
How can I desire a woman who unnerves me, defies me, and forces me to see that in the deep, black abyss of my soul there's someone worthy of her love? A place and person I swore I'd never be again. Her selfless heart and sexy body deserve so much more than I'll ever be capable of giving her. I know I can't be what she needs, so why can't I just let her go?
We are driven by need and fueled with desire, but is that enough for us to crash into love?
“Listen. I know he looks like a damn Adonis and probably fucks like a stallion, but, sweetie, if he’s what you want, then it’s time to make him sweat a little.”
― K. Bromberg, Fueled
STEAMY EXCERPTS FROM FUELED
Teaser #1 He breaks from the kiss with a tortured groan and pulls away from me. “Colton,” I murmur, “let me take care of you.”
“Not here,” he tells me, smoothing my skirt down and smirking as he stuffs what’s left of my panties further down into his pocket. “I want to hear you scream out my name when I take you. I want to hear it when you fall apart from the things I’m going to do to you, Rylee. I want to claim you. Make you mine. Ruin you for any other man that dares to think of touching you.” He grimaces from the conviction of his words.
“You already have, Colton,” I breathe out without thinking, reaching out to place my fingertips to his lips. “I’m yours…” My voice trails off as he stares at me, his jaw working overtime as he absorbs the words I’ve said.
A ghost of a smile mixed with an uncertain disbelief plays on his lips before shaking it away and pushing it aside. “I—we can’t continue here with what I want to do, but this,” he says, motioning to me and the wall, “will tide me over.” He flashes a quick grin at me before grabbing my hand and climbing the last flight of stairs.
I follow him, knowing my heart and body are far from recovered from that little episode. Haddie’s words flash through my head, and I can’t help but disagree with her. When it comes to Colton, I don’t just have it bad. I’ve drowned, been consumed, and am utterly and undeniably his.
“Damn. That face is a definite work of art. You need to make sure you frame it between your legs every chance you get.”
― K. Bromberg, Fueled
I know exactly what he’s doing, but it’s not like he needs to stoke the embers because I’m already a wild fire of need. Knowing that he wants me like this, needing and aching for more of his touch, makes me feel wanton and willing to play the game too. I sway my hips a little more than usual as I walk across the second landing. My hand purposely snagging my hem to reveal just a trace of what’s beneath it.
Colton’s lightening quick as he grabs me from behind, both of his arms wrapping around me in a vice like grip. “You little minx.” He growls in my ear as I feel the play of his muscles against my back with his movement. “You really going to tease me like that when I’ve been without being in you—tasting you for way too long. Especially when you know how desperate I am to have you.”
Thank God he’s as needy as I am because I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer. He nips my earlobe when I try to shrug away, the need almost debilitating. “Desperation doesn’t suit you. It’s not like you’re going to do something about it.” I taunt playfully.
Colton spins me around, his body presses against mine, and his hands clasp at my lower back. The smirk on his face matches the wicked gleam in his eye. “Oh. Ryles, didn’t you know that dares like that are what rebels like me live for?” He leans in, his lips a breath from my ear as my heart pounds against my rib cage. “I will have you, Rylee, when I want, where I want, and how I want. It’s best you remember that.”
The dominance in his voice excites me. The threat-filled promise arouses me. The feel of his body against mine vibrating with need and his hands possessing my skin cause moisture to pool at the apex of my thighs. I tilt my head up and my lips part—needing his mouth on mine desperately. From what I read in Colton’s eyes, he feels the same way. The days apart have fueled our desire into a raging inferno. All I want to do is take anything and everything he can give me. The temptation of paradise at my fingertips.
“Well it seems you have me by the balls both literally and figuratively, don't you now?” ― K. Bromberg, Fueled
For more information on K. Bromberg,
visit her Rock Star author page HERE
We're excited to spotlight Kendall Grey and her Hard Rock Harlots series - an insanely dirty, raunchy and hilarious series that is not for the faint at heart. If any book or series needs a disclaimer - this is the one. But don't take our word for it, read Kendall's warning, no really, heed the warning, we did and we loved and were thoroughly entertained by every smutty, filthy, ridiculously over-the-top moment. Today we have an excerpt from Strings, it's one hell of a introduction to Letty and Shades' story and to Kendall's fearless writing. Plus, enter to win a Signed Paperback or ebook of Strings! Enjoy, have fun and good luck!
WARNING: STRINGS is not suitable for slut shamers, uptight stone throwers, Holier-Than-Thou prudes, humorless virgins, persons with chronic neck or back pain, pearl-clutching bitties, those who disparage crude humor or vulgarity in their many forms, closed-minded people with sticks up their asses, or anyone under the age of 18. The vile, base language and shocking, unholy sexual acts contained herein are not condoned by anyone with a lick of sense and should certainly not be reproduced without proper training and protection. The potty-mouthed and perpetually horny "heroine" (the term is used loosely) of this book does not resemble a normal, well-adjusted, or remotely believable person in any way, shape, or form. The author acknowledges that the characters in this book are shallow and two-dimensional; the plot is both ridiculous and insipid. She makes no apologies for any of it. "Fuck him like a Roman nympho whore with a flaming crotch, let him put it out with a cum spritzer, then run like hell."
- Strings by Kendall Grey Strings Excerpt: Meet Letty and Shades! “Why the long face?” Bartender Rob tosses a stained white towel over his shoulder and leans across the nicked wood. He rests his meaty elbows in a puddle of liquor leftovers. I eye the spot and manage to keep my tongue in my mouth.
No licking the bar. You’re not drunk enough. Yet.
I do love me some booze, and I’m living off the coins I found in my couch cushions until payday. With a calloused index finger, I stir my vodka martini—the one birthday present I allowed my broke-ass self to buy.
“The short version? My boyfriend left me for Jesus. I’m stuck in a dead-end waitressing job, clogging people’s arteries at Fat Johnny’s Barbeque Shack, making jack shit. I’m earning even less busting ass at the gig I want to be doing.”
The part about my boyfriend is a white lie. He’s really just a guy I was bonking for a while. Technicality. But the rest is one hundred percent truth.
“No one gives a mangy monkey boner about art anymore. Nothing but a bunch of
zero-talent sellouts in this fucking town.” I meet Rob’s eyes. “Man, I’m
twenty-five today, and I have nothing to show for it.”
Rob straightens. “My mama always said, ‘If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.’”
I shake my head. “Fuck that. I’d rather starve than sell out.”
Yeah, I’m a little rabid about this particular stick-to-your-guns philosophy. Some
people find strength in religion. I believe in music, and I defend it with
everything I’ve got, even when things don’t go my way.
I played the unfortunate role of a human pinball paddled back and forth between my
divorced parents for most of my life. In my darkest moments, solace and light
came from listening to my mom’s ’70s cassette tapes. For a few years, music was
my only friend. Nobody else understood me. It helped me through the rough
patches and gave me motivation to pick up the bass at fourteen.
Even though I haven’t made it yet, music is still the one thing that keeps me steady
and sane. You don’t fuck with shit that does you right. Especially when it’s all
you’ve got.
I just wish…
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
“Happy fucking birthday,” Rob says.
“Yeah, cheers, asshole.” I raise my glass and swallow the whole drink in three big
gulps. Rob snickers and wanders over to a customer waving bills at him from the
register.
The guy one seat away from me laughs, so I glance at him. He’s hunched over the bar
like he’s guarding his drink, with his head turned toward me. Five o’ clock
shadow, pierced eyebrow, dark brown fauxhawk, plugs in his earlobes—not too big,
though. He wears a black wool pea coat-looking thing, jeans, and a pair of dark
sunglasses.
“Something funny, Shades?” I ask.
“Your boyfriend leaving you for Jesus.” He has kind of a gruff voice. His face is
okay, but it’s hard to tell what he really looks like with those glasses covering his most important features. I like his hands, though. They’re rough like mine.
“I knew something was wrong with him when he complained about me asking for anal.
What guy doesn’t want anal?” I twirl my empty glass by its long stem. “He was
kind of a dick trickle, so it’s not like I miss him or anything. Though the sex
was decent. Better than my current prospects.”
Damn, I’m dying for another drink. Maybe just one more. I’m pretty sure I got a couple
bucks stuffed in my car’s ashtray for emergencies. I shoot a bird at Rob, who nods.
“Definitely something wrong with a guy who doesn’t want to sodomize his woman.” Shades takes a sip from his glass. A wrist tattoo peeks out from his coat sleeve. I can’t tell what it is.
“Nah, I wanted to sodomize him. He wasn’t on board with the plan. That’s when the
Holier Than Thou shit started. ‘Jesus doesn’t approve of butt-fucking.’ Jesus this. Jesus that. What the hell, man? Don’t you think Jesus would want you to be happy? How will you ever be happy if you don’t try new things? Christ, it’s just a dildo up the ass. Loosen the fuck up.”
Shades chokes on his drink, wipes his mouth with a coat sleeve, and laughs. Gorgeous teeth.
A glass slides across the bar from Rob a few feet away. I stop it with my open hand and smile.
Rob grins and saunters over. “I got you this Flaming Armadillo for your birthday, my dear. I hope it fits.” He flicks his lighter and ignites the liquid in the glass. Blue flames dance. I salivate.
“Rob, it’s perfect. You shouldn’t have.”
“You’re welcome.”
I pick up the shot and blow it out. To another year of dream chasing. Maybe this’ll be the one where I finally make it big. “Happy birthday to me.”
Gulp. Down the chute it goes, and I lose five IQ points as the alcohol gets busy with
my already precarious brain chemistry. At least somebody’s getting some
action.
Shades raises his glass and shoots whatever he’s drinking. “Did you make a wish?”
I’m not telling my real wish. That shit won’t come true if you spill it. Instead, I say, “All I want for my birthday is to get fucked unconscious with no strings attached.” Not a lie.
“What a coincidence. I’ve got a big dick, a bar tab, and the local cab company’s
number on speed dial.” The guy’s eyes bore into me from behind the dark lenses,
and I have a momentary lapse in vaginal secretion control.
Clean up on aisle twelve, stat! Strings, Book 1, Synopsis and Purchase Button Free-spirited musician Letty Dillinger adheres to a strict, "no strings attached" policy when it comes to men. After a wild night of unabashed sex in a fancy hotel room, she never expects to see the adventurous stud she dubs "Shades" again. When her all-girl rock trio books a tour at the last minute as the opening act for their archenemies, Letty's shocked to discover she knows the competition's new lead singer. Intimately. Shades is no longer a one-night stand. Now he's the guy she has to one-up on stage every night for the sake of her career.
Sharing close quarters on a bus with her sexy nemesis and his bad-boy buddies puts Letty's Golden Rule to the test. On this tour, guitar strings aren't the only things being played. And when heartstrings are pulled too hard, they're bound to snap sooner or later.
“I don’t know if it’s my heart, my soul, or both, but goddamn it, Shades has unearthed the music that makes me who I am and dragged it to the surface for inspection.” - Strings by Kendall Grey
Beats, Book 2, Synopsis and Purchase Buttons For months, shy drummer Jinx Hardwick has been silently crushing on her tall, dark, and scary bandmate, Toombs Badcock. Drawn to his frightening ink and scars, she yearns to uncover the shadowy secrets lurking behind his silver eyes, but Jinx is too intimidated to even look at him, let alone talk to him.
When she stumbles upon Toombs and their manipulative lead guitarist Rax in a compromising position, Jinx realizes her chances of winning Toombs's heart aren't just a long shot--they're nonexistent. To make matters worse, Jinx's
family needs her at home. She's about to back away from it all--Toombs, the band, her dreams of fame and fortune--when Rax makes her an offer she can't refuse: a no-holds-barred night alone with Toombs. There's one small catch. She has to go through Rax to get it.
"This man I’ve admired in agonizing silence for so long sees me. And Isee him too. He’s a moving symphony of darkness, wicked temptation, and macabre tattoos."
- Beats by Kendall Grey
Nocturnes, Book 3, Synopsis and Purchase Buttons NOCTURNES contains 511 F-bombs, 81 well-endowed male chickens, 65 girl kitties, 58 Richard the Lessers, 10 C-U-Next-Tuesdays, and a plethora of other colorful words and phrases that would deafen your virginal mother's ears and make her bust out her "Shame on you!" finger. If you've been tuned in since the beginning of the Hard Rock Harlots series, you know the drill. The sex is extreme, the language is graphic, and the story is over the top. Prudes and under 18s need not apply.
WARNING: NOCTURNES addresses serious topics such as alcoholism, prostitution, and cheating. If you're looking for a barrel of laughs or sunshine and rainbows, this is NOT the book for you.
Rax Wrathbone is the dirty rock star you love to hate. The filthy fantasy slithering through your bed sheets. The serpent in your lady garden. The snake bite in your panties that keeps you sweating all night. He. Is. Sex.
And he's no good. For anyone.
After a nasty breakup with his best friend and their band's drummer, Rax is flying solo for the first time in years. Who needs the drama of commitment when the line for your humping
booth spans three city blocks? No, groupies and liquor are far finer company thanrelationships, and they don't leave bruises after they've had their way with you. At least not lasting ones.
Rax's new adventures as an alcoholic, guitar-slashing one-man show are going along swimmingly until the only woman who's ever brought him to his knees shimmies down a pole back into his life. Eve doesn't abide excessive drinking, she has sex with strangers for
a living, and she can't remember Rax's name to save her life.
She's perfect in every way.
Now, if he could just get sober long enough to forget his past and convince Eve he's worthy of her future...
“So, you got shit-faced, spray-painted a barn with a lovely shade of Exorcist-green puke, fucked a donkey while you were there, and started a fist fight with a recovering, meth-addicted nun and her lovechild who were reenacting the nativity scene?” - Nocturnes by Kendall Grey
Author Bio: Meet Kendall Grey! Kendall Grey is the self-appointed past, present, and future president of the Authors Behaving Badly Club. A whale warrior and indie freedom fighter, she spends summers in the corner (usually with a dunce cap on her head) and winters hunched at the peak of Mt. Trouble, fiery pens of fury (complete with invisible ink) flying across the pages. She has a big set of cajones, and she’s not afraid to use them. In her spare time, Kendall speaks your mind so you don’t have to.
Kendall lives off a dirt road near Atlanta, Georgia, but don’t hold that against her. Stalk Kendall: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
Giveaway: Win a Signed Paperback or ebook of STRINGS!
 We're honored to participate in the Poughkeepsie Enhanced
Collector's Edition App Tour by Debra Anastasia. Poughkeepsie is one of the most unique, gritty, raw, twisted, and beautiful love stories we've ever read - Debra's writitng style and her genius storytelling somehow made it possible for us to fall in love with an untraditional hero in Blake Hartt. Yes, he's homeless, and he doesn't have much in life in terms of materials, but the beauty instilled in his heart and in his soul is incredibly alluring to our heroine, Livia. We will never get over how Blake counts Livia's smile. *swoon* Their story comes to life in an Enhanced Collector's Edition App that, wow, blew our minds. The imagery, the visuals, the music, the animation, the commentary, and the interactive aspects made our heart pound and kept a constant smile on our faces as we re-lived Blake & Livia's love story in a way we've never experienced before - BRAVO, Debra, the work you put into this is inspiring.
Today, get the inside scoop on the development of this ground-breaking, stunning enhancement and watch the amazing intro video! PLUS, read a guest post as Debra interviews Ron Pope and enter 2 giveaways: 1) win ebooks of both Poughkeepsie & Return to Poughkeepsie and 2) tons of ebooks and signed SWAG from amazing authors! Enjoy and Good Luck!
Welcome to the Poughkeepsie
Enhanced Collector’s Edition App Tour! Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia has been a cult hit bestseller since 2011. A homeless guy counting the smiles of a kind train commuter spiraled into a novel that was nominated by the Rockstars of Romance (by our amazing followers)! as one of the most romantic stories ever and won 2nd place! It was a story that deserved getting a jumbo-sized enhancement. Extra scenes out the ying yang was, of course, a huge part of the fun. Getting to spend some of those previously undiscovered first moments with Blake and Livia or the moment he proposed was worth exploring. In Debra’s wildest dreams she imagined Poughkeepsie with its own soundtrack, anchored by her favorite musicians. When blockbuster talent Ron Pope signed on with fourteen songs and then Rustic Overtones agreed as well, she knew things were going to get crazy cool.
After almost two full years of development, the Enhanced Poughkeepsie is ready. Debra lost count of the hours spent, as did the developer poured into this. It was beast, and more amazing than she could have ever imagined. This app became the most exceptional reading experience Debra could devise for her readers.
Check out what’s in store for you and watch the amazing video!
This app will be available for all kinds of devices!
It is available now as Enhanced Poughkeepsie for iPad Website for Droid, iPhones, and Computers is coming soon!
For more information. The website app (which is the same content as the iPad app) will be available this week. Guest Post: Inteview with Ron Pope! Hey Rockstars! When my tour stopped here, I knew who would be the perfect to join me for my guest post: a rock star! A reader introduced me to Ron Pope’s music. This man needs to be on everyone’s playlist. The lyrics of his songs truly fit Poughkeepsie. He describes nature, love, and bravery in many of his songs. I have trouble pinpointing my favorite tune because there are so many, and his songs have different flavors, so having Ron on in the background or blasting in your iPod never gets old. When I risked an email to Ron asking for his cooperation as I blended his songs with my story, he was stunningly generous. He allowed me to use his haunting melodies in my book trailers, and his music is feature throughout this enhanced book, so please check out the iTunes link and the link to his website at the end of this interview with Ron and fill up on his work. I promise you’ll find your new very favorite song.
Debra Anastasia: The lyrics of your songs are mind-blowing, and they’re combined with stunning guitar and immaculate piano. What comes first, the melody or the
words?
Ron Pope: Depends on the song. Sometimes I’ll have a lick on the guitar or the piano or a chord change...something musical. Other times I start with a lyrical idea or a story.
Most of the time, I’ll just sit down and noodle on guitar or piano until I get an idea and then go from there. I’ve also been humming melodic ideas into my phone a lot recently.
DA: What’s been your strangest inspiration for a song?
RP: Most of the things that pop up in my songs are pretty regular. I write about regular people doing normal things the majority of the time.
DA: Who are four people you would like to have dinner with?
RP: Elvis, Keith Richards, Alexander The Great, and Tupac. But not all at the same time. That would be a weird group.
DA: What’s your favorite instrument?
RP: To play, the guitar; to hear, the cello.
DA: When writing Poughkeepsie, I had your albums on repeat. I actually screamed when you agreed to let me use your songs in my book trailers because for me, your voice sets the perfect tone for a love story. You’re able to be a manly guy and express your feelings, is that hard? Does it help that you can shred the guitar in such a kick-ass fashion?
RP: Thanks for that. Glad to be of service. I don’t really know anything about feelings. I guess that’s why I’m always writing songs about them. I’m just trying to figure it out like everyone else.
Thanks to Ron and to The Rockstars of Romance for this! And here are a few of my favorite Ron songs:
Explain (off his newest album Calling off the Dogs): http://youtubeExplain Drop in the Ocean: http://www.youtube.com/Drop in the Ocean And his social media links:
Website: http://ronpopemusic.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/RonPopeMusic Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RonPopeOfficial
Instagram: http://instagram.com/ronpopemusic YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/channelRonPope iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/ron-pope/id281055424 Website: www.RonPopeMusic.com Summary Immerse yourself in the world of Debra Anastasia’s Poughkeepsie.
Experience this bestselling novel for the first time…again as you break all the rules about
books with Omnific Publishing and Debra Anastasia. In this enhanced version of the novel, you’ll enjoy insights from the author, music by Ron Pope and other artists to set the mood, and images and video that bring the scenes to life as you read. You’ll delve deeper into the world of Poughkeepsie through nearly 50,000 words of added scenes (more love, more drama, more romance!) and informative insights into how this marvelous story and its characters came to be.
Self-contained in this app (no wifi needed after downloading):
• complete novel Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia
• author/director’s pop-up commentary
• music by Ron Pope, Rustic Overtones, Monoxide G, Violet Winter, Bo Heart, and Jeff Epstein and the City Line Singers
• more than 100 images to enhance the story
• videos of your favorite characters in action
• special animation
• sound effects
• interviews with the characters, author, and more
• interactive games
• trailers for the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood series
• how-to knitting instructions
• how-to instructions for making a paper rose
• recipe for the dinner Livia makes for Blake Poughkeepsie, Book 1, Synopsis and Purchase Button ($0.99) He counts her smiles every day and night at the train station. And morning and evening, the beautiful commuter acknowledges him—just like she does everyone else on the platform. But Blake Hartt is not like the others . . . he’s homeless. Memories of a broken childhood have robbed him of peace and twisted delusions into his soul. He stays secluded from the sun, sure the world would run from him in the harsh light of day.
Each day, Livia McHugh smiles politely and acknowledges her fellow commuters as she waits for the train to the city. She dismisses this kindness as nothing special, just like her. She’s the same as a million other girls—certainly no one to be cherished. But special or not, she smiles every day, never imagining that someone would rely on the simple gesture as if it were air to breathe.
When the moment comes that Livia must do more than smile, without hesitation she steps into the fray to defend the homeless man. And she's surprised to discover an inexplicable
connection with her new friend. After danger subsides, their smiles become conversation. Their words usher in a friendship, which awakens something in each of them. But it’s not long before their bond must prove its strength. Entanglements from the past challenge both their love and their lives.
Blake’s heart beats for Livia’s, even if her hands have to keep its rhythm. Love is patient. Love is kind. Love never fails. Love never fails, right?
In an interwoven tale of unlikely loves and relationships forged by fire, Debra Anastasia takes readers into the darkest corners of human existence, only to show them the radiant power of pure adoration and true sacrifice. Complicated families and confused souls find their way to light in this novel, which manages to be racy, profane, funny, and reverent all at once.
Return to Poughkeepsie, Book 2, Synopsis & Purchase Button Beckett Taylor is a murderer. His calling, his craft are destruction and intimidation—whether he wants it that way now or not. He left Poughkeepsie to keep his brothers safe, to keep Eve safe. Set up with happy lives to live, they’re better off without him, right?
But all his willpower crumbles when he hears his brother Blake’s frantic voice on the phone. An unknown enemy has moved in on his old territory, and Livia’s been taken. In an instant, Beckett knows it will take an attack only he and Eve can execute to bring her back. All his self-imposed embargoes are torn to shreds, perhaps along with the new man he’s struggled to become.
“Brother, call Eve. I’ll be there soon.”
In this emotional and action-packed sequel to Poughkeepsie, Debra Anastasia conjures a tale of love at its most raw and ragged. With Beckett and Eve, how could we expect anything less? But even when it’s messy, not magical, true love perseveres. Real love finds a way—for better or worse until death does part.
Stunning Book Teasers! (click on pictures for full view) Author Bio: Meet Debra Anastasia! Debra Anastasia is busy, just like every other mom. There's dinner, the dogs, the two kids, the two kids, and her ongoing battle with...ahem... digestive issues, which combined with her adolescent boy sense of humor makes for colorful and sometimes cringe-worthy social media updates. Her first love and crowning achievement is
her thriving career as the weirdest mom on the block.
Her writing started a decent handful of years ago when--along with the animals and humans in her house--the voices of characters started whispering stories in Debra's ear. Insomnia was the gateway to plots that wouldn't give up, wouldn't let go. Now they stalk her everywhere. Halfway through making lunches, a twist takes hold and--fingers full of peanut butter--she finds somewhere, anywhere to write it down.
She's eternally grateful to Omnific Publishing, which has now published four of her books: two in the Seraphim Series and two in the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood Series, as well as her novella, Late Night with Andres. That one is special because 100% of the proceeds go to Breast Cancer Research. (So go get it right now, please!) She also very much appreciates her open-minded readers, who embrace everything she has to offer, with a focus on anti-heroes
and bathroom humor.Debra lives in Maryland with her family. You can find her at DebraAnastasia.com and on Twitter @Debra_Anastasia. But be prepared.
Stallk Debra: Goodreads | Twitter | Facebook | Website |
Giveaway: Win ebooks of both Poughkeepie &
Return to Poughkeepsie!
Tour Giveaway: Win Stunning Signed SWAG & ebooks!
(click on the images for view the prizes)
Last Breath by Jessica Clare and Jen Frederick is Live! And, we are so excited to to share this intriguing, sexy story with you! Daniel is all male, and extremely alpha in all his hotness. He is funny, sweet, protective and strong. I am swooning just writing about him.
Regan - oh Regan, she is strong and resilient. The combination of the two of them is explosive. The story is a page turning, compelling saga that you won't be able to put down. We have come to expect this from Jen Frederick and Jessica Clare and when they teamed up to write the Hitman series we knew it was going to be fabulous and this one blew us away! Keep them coming ladies!
Check out excerpts, dream cast and one amazing giveaway where you can win a $200 Gift Card! Good Luck & Enjoy! Excerpt
Meet Daniel She’s a biter. That’s the warning given when I point to the blonde with the glazed green eyes in Senhor Gomes’ book of whores. He shakes his head and says that he has access to dozens of others that are better and all willing to engage in whatever perverse activity I want. He brags that there isn’t a sick sex act I can think of that Gomes can’t fulfill. I like home cooking, I tell him. A Texan in Rio sees a lot of beautiful Brazilian women, but sometimes you want a little star-spangled banner in the rotation.
He nods as if this makes sense to him, but I think it’s the money that I’m flashing that he understands. We walk up to the second floor and down a narrow hall toward the back, a windowless part of this brick and metal building. I can’t call it a home or even a brothel. It’s a dingy place where men with deep perversions but shallow wallets can get their rocks off.
I don’t want to have sex here, I’ve explained to Gomes. I have a thing against hellholes and having sex in them. I wave around a lot of cash, and Gomes nodded and asks no more questions.
We’re a strange parade—Gomes, me, and some house mom trailing behind. He stops at the second to last door and removes a key.
I’ve seen pictures of Regan Porter before, and not in Gomes’ look book, but nothing prepares me for her full-fledged, magazine-quality beauty. She hasn’t been eating well; her delicate bones are beginning to look sharp in places—at her shoulders, ribs, and hips. But there’s no denying her breathtaking looks. Her blonde hair is damp and small strands stick to her perfect skull. Her oval face, with its pink cheekbones and lush lips and eyebrows that look like wings, stands out like a piece of fine china at a flea market. Though she’s thin, there’s a delicious curviness in the slope of her side as it dips into the waist and flares back out to form a cuppable roundness at the hip. And those endlessly long legs.
Shit. I close my eyes and swallow. No decent man would be standing here thinking about those legs wrapped around his waist. But then again, I’m not decent. I’m no longer army sniper, Special Forces Daniel Hays who may have once been lauded as a hero for killing insurgents in Afghanistan. Now I’m Daniel Hays, mercenary who kills people for money and spends all his spare time in brothels and flesh dens like this one. Decency is a word I don’t even know the meaning to anymore.
It’s been too long since I’ve had a woman. That’s my only excuse. That and I’m becoming the monster that I’m hunting. I focus on the bruises on her knees that are scraped red and raw from time on the floor and the manacle around her ankle. Any feelings of arousal are jettisoned by the obvious signs of abuse.
Glancing sharply at Gomes, I wonder how he’s come to possess a beauty like Regan Porter. Gomes is a small-time flesh peddler, stuck up here in the slums, with a house full of females—half of which are missing their teeth or are too old or too broken.
He usually gets what the market calls second-hand goods, the girls that no other house wants. But Regan Porter is gorgeous, and while she looks a little rundown, she’s still model beautiful with big pink lips and wide green eyes.
“Nice tits,” I smirk for Gomes’ sake and her shudder of disgust only feeds into my growing belief that I’m as dirty as the flesh trader beside me. The dark edges of the world that I now inhabit are seeping into my skin like an oil slick covering an ocean. I shouldn’t want to touch her. And if I have to fuck her in front of Gomes to get her out of here—I don’t even let myself finish that thought.
There’s still life in her eyes. If she’s biting and spitting out acerbic insults, there’s spirit left in her, and I don’t want to be the one to snuff out that last flame. Her eyes convey her hate, and if she had a knife, I’d be sliced from my throat to my belly. I stare back, not because she’s fucking beautiful, but because she’s still standing. I’m not sure I would’ve been as strong. I don’t know if she sees my admiration or whether she can only interpret varying degrees of lust and degradation, but she sees something. An invisible string spools out between us and her eyes widen when it hits her like an electrical shock.
For months I’ve swum in a pool of blood and death and ugly deeds, and to hold onto my sanity and maybe my soul, I’ve told myself that saving these doves balances the scale. For every life I take, if I save one then it’s all a wash in the end. Don’t think it’s tallied that way at St. Peter’s Gate, but that’s the lie I tell myself so I can sleep at night and look at myself in the mirror the next day. Regan Porter will either be part of my attempt at salvation or the bloody stone that etches out the words He Failed on my headstone.
Book Summary: Last Breath
Hitman Series: Book Two For the first month of release, Last Breath will be sale-priced at $3.99 to reward early purchasers. The price will revert back to its original retail listing of $4.99.
Regan
I never really knew what misery was until the day I was kidnapped and sold for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Two months later, I'm at a brothel in Rio when I meet Daniel Hays. He says he's here to save me, but can I trust him? All I know of him is his sarcastic retorts and his tendency to solve every dispute with his gun. He's also the only safe thing in my world, and I know it's wrong to fall in love with him, but I can't seem to help myself. He says he’ll protect me until his last breath but I don’t know if I should believe him or even if I can.
Daniel
For the last eighteen months, I’ve had one goal that has dictated every action I’ve taken. I’ve left the Army, turned paid hit man, and have befriended criminals all across the globe to find my kidnapped sister. In every brothel I raid or every human trafficking truck I stop, I hope the next face I find is my sister’s. In a hidden brothel in Rio, I find Regan Porter, bruised by not broken and still sane despite her weeks in captivity. I should leave her behind or send her home because the last thing either of us needs right now is to get involved. But with every passing minute, I find I can’t let her go.
Please note: this contains some scenes that sensitive readers may find upsetting or triggering.
Excerpt
Meet Regan From Regan’s POV
I curl up on the mattress, hugging my legs to my chest and waiting. There will be another man soon enough, and then Freeze, so I enjoy the moment of silence while I can. My lip hurts, a bit puffy from where the last man hit me, and I touch it with my fingertips, wincing.
Then, I lay my head back against the wall, thinking. My mind is filled with the gun and the man I was forced to service, and my stomach roils uncomfortably again. I swallow hard and force myself to think of zombie movies, instead. E. I don’t know what movies begin with E. This one will require some thought. Maybe something with “Enemy” in the title.
I ponder this for minutes, staring at nothing, when there is a knock at the door again. I get to my feet automatically. God, I hope it’s not the man with the gun again. I don’t think I could stomach seeing him twice in one night.
But when the door opens, it’s not Freeze.
The man that steps in is unexpected. He’s accompanied by Senhor Gomes, the master, a man I have only seen once but hear about all the time. Gomes looked me over when I arrived and then left, as if I were an uninteresting piece of property.
The man with him is tall, good-looking, and wears a casual suit. He’s got nice brown hair, sharp eyes, and I can tell immediately from the cast of his features that he’s American.
What the fuck. Not again. Not another American jackass. It doesn’t matter if he’s American—he’s here to rape me like all the others before him. Except this time? I’ll know all the nasty, shitty words he yells into my ear.
And later, when he’s done with me and leaves, I’ll feel even dirtier because he’s only made things worse.
He looks me over, his gaze sliding to my star-spangled bikini, and I can’t help myself. “What’s the matter,” I ask, “international pussy not good enough for you?”
Book Summary: Last Hit
Hitmans Series: Book One Nikolai:
I have been a contract killer since I was a boy. For years I savored the fear caused by my name, the trembling at the sight of my tattoos. The stars on my knees, the marks on my fingers, the dagger in my neck, all bespoke of danger. If you saw my eyes, it was the last vision you’d have. I have ever been the hunter, never the prey. With her, I am the mark and I am ready to lie down and let her capture me. Opening my small scarred heart to her brings out my enemies. I will carry out one last hit, but if they hurt her, I will bring the world down around their ears.
Daisy:
I’ve been sheltered from the outside world all my life. Homeschooled and farm-raised, I’m so naive that my best friend calls me Pollyanna. I like to believe the best in people. Nikolai is part of this new life, and he’s terrifying to me. Not because his eyes are cold or my friend warns me away from him, but because he’s the only man that has ever seen the real me beneath the awkwardness. With him, my heart is at risk..and also, my life.
Mini Excerpt:
I watch her through my bathroom window. I've placed one of my four rented chairs in here for that express purpose. I tell myself it is not creepy, as the American girls would say, because I watch everyone. But really I watch only her.
I cannot see everything. I've never seen her nude. I've never seen inside her shower. Smartly there is no window there. But I can see her bedroom and her living room and beyond that, with my scope, her kitchen. I know her schedule. When she gets up in the morning, when she returns to her apartment. If she were a mark, I could've killed her a dozen times over by now and been in the wind.
She throws her bag onto her bed and then lies down next to it. It takes many muscles to smile, more to frown but only a few to pull the trigger. I peer down the scope and place my crosshairs over her forehead. Puff, dead.
Read an additional excerpt from Last Breath and the first four chapters from Last Hit HERE Additional Teasers
Click on photo for full view Meet these amazing authors  Author Jessica Claire This is a pen name for Jill Myles. Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood. She reads all the 'naughty parts' of books first, looks for a dirty joke in just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the Prairie books should have been steamier. After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own - stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations. She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed together. Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Rock Star
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Exclusive Excerpt: Chapter Two
Meet Daniel She’s a biter. That’s the warning given when I point to the blonde with the glazed blue eyes in Señor Gomes’ book of whores. He shook his head and said that he had access to dozens of others that were better and all were willing to engage in whatever perverse activity I wanted. There isn’t a sick sex act I can think of that Gomes can’t fulfill, he brags. I like home cooking, I tell him. An American guy in Rio sees a lot of beautiful Brazilian women but sometimes you just want a little Star Spangled banner in the rotation.
He nods as if this makes sense to him, but I think it’s the money that I’m flashing that he understands. We walk down a narrow hall toward the back, a windowless part of this brick and metal building. I can’t call it a home or even a brothel. It’s just a dingy place where men with deep perversions but shallow wallets can get their rocks off.
But I don’t want to have sex here, I’ve explained to Gomes. I want to take her to my hotel and then I’ll bring her back. Gomes finds this strange but again, the stack of cash I’m offering silences any questions he may have.
We’re a strange parade—Gomes, me, and some house mom trailing behind. He stops at the second to last door and removes a key.
I’ve seen pictures of Regan Porter before, and not just in Gomes’ look book, but nothing prepares me for her full-fledged, magazine-quality beauty. The concrete floor is hard under my feet and her knees look red and raw, evidencing some time spent down on the floor.
She hasn’t been eating well, her delicate bones are beginning to look sharp in places—at her shoulders, ribs, and hips. But there’s no denying her breathtaking looks. Her blonde hair is wet and plastered to her perfect skull. Her oval face, with its pink cheekbones and lush lips and eyebrows that look like wings, stand out like a piece of fine china at a flea market. And even though she’s thin, there’s a delicious curviness in the slope of her side as it dips into the waist and flares back out to form the roundness at the hip. And those endlessly long legs. Shit. I close my eyes and swallow, trying to force away the image of those long legs wrapped around my waist. Too long I’ve done this and now, I’m becoming something monstrous.
Glancing sharply at Gomes, I wonder how he’s come to possess a beauty like Regan Porter. Gomes is a small-time flesh peddler, stuck up here in the slums, with a house full of females—half of which are missing their teeth or are too old or too broken.
He usually gets what the market calls second-hand goods, the girls that no other house wants. But Regan Porter is gorgeous, and while she looks a little rundown here, she’s still model beautiful with big pink lips and wide blue eyes.
“Nice tits,” I smirk, but her shudder of disgust only feeds into my growing belief that I’m just as dirty as Gomes. Because no one can see the shit I’ve seen in the last eighteen months and come away unscathed. I probably shouldn’t even touch her. And if I have to fuck her in front of Gomes to get her out of here—I don’t even let myself finish that thought.
There’s still life in her eyes. If she’s biting and spitting out acerbic insults, there’s still spirit left in her and I don’t want to be the one to snuff out that last flame. She stares at me like she wants to run a knife from my throat to my belly. And I stare back, not because she’s fucking beautiful, but because she’s still standing. I’m not sure I would’ve been as strong. I don’t know if she can see my admiration or whether she only sees lust, but she sees something. An invisible string spools out between us and her eyes widen when it hits her like an electrical shock.
For the last eighteen months I’ve swum in a pool of blood and death and ugly deeds, and Regan Porter may be my salvation. Or she could be the last stake in my grave. One thing’s for sure, I can tell that I won’t come away unscathed. All right then. Bring it.
“She looks like a live one,” I say to Gomes.
He squints at Regan, tallying up her worth. She’s valuable now because I’m willing to pay so much for her and Gomes doesn’t really understand why. “Twenty-five thousand Reais could buy you a harem. Her pussy isn’t lined with gold. Come on, hermano, let me hook you up with someone different,” Gomes whines.
Don’t know why he wants to hold on to her so bad, but I can see that he’s torn between wanting my money and wanting to keep Regan in the whorehouse.
“I prefer to eat domestic,” I say. Gomes doesn’t really expect a response, or at least he shouldn’t. Buying and selling human flesh requires some discretion even here in Brazil where prostitution is legal, but houses like these aren’t. Gomes and I stare at each other while the bangles on the dirty American flag bikini tinkle in the background. Don’t draw attention to yourself, I silently command the girl.
The urge to beat Gomes until his own mama won’t recognize him washes over me in a red, violent haze. My fist in his mouth, the heel of my boot crushing his dick would be phenomenal. I’ve been in and out of these houses of horror for the last eighteen months looking for my sister. She went on her first and only spring break trip and never came back. I was in Delta Force, playing sniper, when I got the news. I arrived home to find my mother distraught and my dad…fuck, I’ll never forget the look on his face. Dad was a hardened rancher who’d held onto his family legacy by the repeated sacrifice of his blood to the land. He’d seen shit and done shit but the loss of his baby girl had broken him.
I stayed one night and in the early morning hours of the next day, he walked me out to my truck and told me not to come home until I’d found her. And I haven’t found and I haven’t been home. There won’t be nothing to go back to unless I bring her home.
In the past eighteen months since my sister was kidnapped from her spring break vacation in Cancun, I’ve rescued hundreds of girls either in the sex trade or headed for sale. They’ve all been grateful, traumatized, and tearful. I’ve never once encountered a mouthy one. Not until Regan. She looks like she might bite off my hand if I try to reach for her.
It’s taken me five long weeks to find her after she was sold from Russia. And that snaps me back. Killing Gomes in a black rage isn’t going to keep Regan safe or help me find my sister.
Gesturing toward Regan, I try to get him to speed up this transaction. “I work for an impatient man and that makes me a little edgy, so we’re done talking now. Get me a coat for her. I can’t take her outside in that getup. Shit.”
Gomes leans out the door and yells, “Hurry. Get me a coat.”
I cross my arms, looking like I’m seconds away from walking on this deal, when really I have my fingers close to the guns inside my coat. I could shoot Gomes right now and I kind of want to, but hasty decisions like that would only hurt my situation. I learned that early on. You can kill Gomes but a dozen others just like him will rise up from the sewer like an army of rats. If you want to stop something like this you have to find the source of the rats and cut off the damn head and then cauterize it. But I’ll be back for Gomes. I won’t be able to sleep at night until I know the only hole he’s plundering is the asshole of a demon in the underworld.
The house mom appears at the door and hands Gomes a tissue-thin jacket that probably won’t even cover the tops of Regan’s thighs. I rip the thing out of Gomes’ hands. He’s not touching her again.
“Let’s go,” I command and snap my fingers toward Regan. She lets out a low, feral growl. I want to laugh in Gomes face at this—that she’s withstood his treatment, but I can’t let any approval for her show. Gomes gives a jerk of his head and the house mom scuttles over to unlock the chains around her ankle. As the iron falls away, I see that the skin is scabbed all over. I’m surprised it’s not infected. Suddenly the contents of my stomach are at the back of my mouth and I scrub my hand over my lips to disguise my reaction. I want to throw a blanket over her, shoot everyone and carry her away.
This is such a goddamn travesty. My tone is sharp and angry. “Put this on.” I throw it to her and she catches it almost reflexively, but she’s slow as molasses putting on the coat. Gomes motions for the house mom to hurry Regan up but I put up a hand to stay the house mom’s actions. Regan doesn’t want to be touched by anyone. You can read that aversion in every line of her body, which is why I threw the coat to her. I didn’t want to be responsible for imposing even one more indignity or trauma on this woman. God, she was barely a woman. Probably the same age as my sister, who was be twenty when she was taken. Regan was twenty-two or so, Nick had told me.
“I don’t got all day.” I point to my wristwatch. It’s a reward, I’ve told people, for killing some family who had the nerve to tell me no. If one person fucks up, then the whole line dies or so the story goes. Half the time a bad ass reputation gets you out of tight spots better than two guns and a dozen magazines. Although I’d take those too. Regan is still not sure whether I’m the better bet. “You can either stay here chained to a wall or come with me.”
It’s no kind of alternative, and she may be thinking that the devil she knows is safer, but I’m banking on the fact that she’s currently thinking about a million ways she can escape me once she’s outside of this place. She gives a little nod, not really to me, but acknowledging some decision she’s made in her mind. I step out and walk away, pretending like I don’t care for a minute if she follows. Gomes doesn’t move, but instead exchanges sharp words with the house mom in Portuguese, thinking, I guess, that I won’t understand him. But I do.
I can speak a little Farsi and a little Russian and a helluvalot of Spanish, which is fairly close to Portuguese. I’m from Texas after all.
"Get her to put on the jacket," says Gomes.
"I can’t. She will scratch me,” the house mom responds. I smile at this. Even chained Regan is a terror. Good for her. Some of the girls I’ve taken from these places are so broken that they don’t see anything but their abuse anymore. Some fall back into the business, working on their own or as part of someone’s stable, because they can’t function normally anymore. Although what the hell is normal, I have no goddamned idea anymore.
A shuffling sound occurs behind me and I pause. The steps are light, so they don’t belong to Gomez or the heavier house mom.
“You aren’t going to like owning me,” Regan hisses quietly at my back. If I really was just an angry john with a taste for home, I’d probably back hand her, but my response isn’t one of anger but of frustration…and lust. I want to shake some fucking sense into her and beg her to make it easier for both of us for one hot second. Instead I grunt, because deep down, part of me wants to show her how wrong she is. If we were alone in a dark corner of some bar back home, I’d back her right up to the wall and tell her that not only would she like being owned by me, but she’d fucking beg for it.
But we’re not alone. She’s not some college girl slumming it in a hole in the wall outside of Fort Benning, so I don’t back her into a corner. I don’t slip my leg between her golden thighs, and I don’t start sucking on the tender skin at the base of her neck. I don’t even turn around to look at her, and I guess this makes her even angrier. “I bite and I don’t cry and I’ll vomit and pee all over you.”
Jesus Hermione Christ. This girl has balls of freaking steel. “Can’t wait,” I say, trotting sideways down the narrow stairs. We’re a sad train now. Me at the front, with Regan close behind me. I can hear Gomes and the house mom making up the end. I can see the front door and our potential freedom beyond.
“You still want this whore?” Gomes calls out. “I have so many others. This one’s too much trouble for you.”
I laugh, a sour sound so Gomes knows I’m not really amused. “You took my money, Gomes. I’m not into international pussy, so I’m taking this girl and you’re going to be happy with the quarter I dropped for her.”
We’re at the front door now and Regan has stopped hissing insults at me, because now she’s at the front door of the house. “How long you think you will keep her?”
Turning to face Gomes, I place my hand on the door. Down here in the entrance, it’s actually more dangerous. Gomes has guards at the door, inside and out. He can’t get the idea that I really care about much of anything other than making James Rand happy.
“What do you think, jefe? I’m paying a quarter for her, and you think I’m just going to just give you back the merchandise?” It’s clear he does think she’s coming back, but for the money I’ve given him, it should be evident that Regan’s going to be fucked until she’s dead. You don’t pay that kind of coin for one night.
“What will you do with her?”
“What do you care?” I ask impatiently. Regan is shivering beneath the jacket, the bangles beating a faster rhythm. Her feet are probably cold on the red clay tiles. Outside she’ll be warmer though, and as soon as we’re out of the favelas I’ll get her some shoes.
Gomes looks a little ill. “I need her back.”
I shake my head. “You let me worry about the disposal of this one. You should worry about the fact you’ve been spreading the tales about your wares into some dangerous places. Places where federales might have to take notice. Don’t be a shithead and ruin it for the rest of us.” And by the rest of us, I mean you, shithead.
I look at the two hired muscles standing inside the front room, which serves as Gomes’ office and show room. It’s got a deep red carpet that has stains all over it. I don’t know whether it’s come or blood, but I’m glad I was wearing shoes when I made that transaction with Gomes thirty minutes earlier. I place my hand on the door knob. “We done here?”
Gomes looks at his goons and then at me. There’s something about me Gomes doesn’t like, or maybe it’s because he thinks he’s losing a valuable piece of property. Second thoughts are all over his face and I ruck up my suit coat on the side so I can have ready access to my gun, just in case. The goons move toward the door of Gomes’ front room and the tension becomes heavier, like a dense smog descending over the slums. I calculate my next course of action. Gomes does not look armed. He’s wearing a thin cotton Panama shirt and linen pants, wrinkled and splatter with liquid around the ankles. The cotton would reveal any hidden guns at his waist or back. He could have an ankle piece, but I’m a good enough shot that he’d be dead by the time he bent over. I dismiss the house mom. The two muscled guys are my only worries. The entry way is narrow, just like the stairs, and we are packed into the foyer like little sardines in a tin can. If a firefight breaks out here we are all toast. I know Regan doesn’t want to be touched but I need to signal her, somehow, to get behind me.
“I worry about you in the favela,” Gomes says. He waves his hand and one of the goons step forward. “Ricardo will escort you out, just to be sure that you get back to your hotel safely.”
Or he’ll shoot me in the back and take your blonde American prize back to the stable. No, not happening but I’m anxious to get out of the house. Ricardo can be taken down once we are outside. No doubt there are several other thugs along the way that Ricardo intends to meet up with, but we have way better odds outside.
“Whatever,” I answer and then throw open the door, hard. It hits Ricardo in the nose and he curses. Behind me I hear a muffled snort. Good girl, I think and then I walk outside with Regan close on my heels.
Cover Reveal: Last Breath
Book Two This is Daniel & Regan's Story...
 Regan
I never really knew what misery was until the day I was kidnapped and sold for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Two months later, I'm at a brothel in Rio when I meet Daniel Hays. He says he's here to save me, but can I trust him? He's a tease and a flirt…and a trained assassin. He's also the only safe thing in my world, and I know it's wrong to fall in love with him, but I can't seem to help myself. He says he’ll protect me until his last breath but I don’t know if I should believe him or even if I can.
Daniel
For eighteen months, I've rescued girls in brothels and dens from one continent to another but I've never encountered a survivor like Regan Porter. Despite the trauma she’s suffered at the hands of her captors, she's a living, breathing dragon. I don't want to tame her. I want to burn to ashes under her flame. But her own pain may be too much to overcome and so might the danger
Meet Nikolai & Daisy Book Summary: Last Hit
Book One  Nikolai:
I have been a contract killer since I was a boy. For years I savored the fear caused by my name, the trembling at the sight of my tattoos. The stars on my knees, the marks on my fingers, the dagger in my neck, all bespoke of danger. If you saw my eyes, it was the last vision you’d have. I have ever been the hunter, never the prey. With her, I am the mark and I am ready to lie down and let her capture me. Opening my small scarred heart to her brings out my enemies. I will carry out one last hit, but if they hurt her, I will bring the world down around their ears.
Daisy:
I’ve been sheltered from the outside world all my life. Homeschooled and farm-raised, I’m so naive that my best friend calls me Pollyanna. I like to believe the best in people. Nikolai is part of this new life, and he’s terrifying to me. Not because his eyes are cold or my friend warns me away from him, but because he’s the only man that has ever seen the real me beneath the awkwardness. With him, my heart is at risk..and also, my life.
Mini Excerpt:
I watch her through my bathroom window. I've placed one of my four rented chairs in here for that express purpose. I tell myself it is not creepy, as the American girls would say, because I watch everyone. But really I watch only her.
I cannot see everything. I've never seen her nude. I've never seen inside her shower. Smartly there is no window there. But I can see her bedroom and her living room and beyond that, with my scope, her kitchen. I know her schedule. When she gets up in the morning, when she returns to her apartment. If she were a mark, I could've killed her a dozen times over by now and been in the wind.
She throws her bag onto her bed and then lies down next to it. It takes many muscles to smile, more to frown but only a few to pull the trigger. I peer down the scope and place my crosshairs over her forehead. Puff, dead.
★ CHAPTER 1 - Natasha is a Book Junkie HERE
★ CHAPTER 2 - Angie's Dreamy Reads HERE
EXCLUSIVE TO TRSOR
CHAPTER Three & Four DAISY
He’s not leaving.
My stomach is all nervous flutters. I should be concentrating on the machines, but all I can think about is the tall, gorgeous man standing down here in the laundry room with me.
He kissed my hand. He touched my cheek. It’s like something out of a romance novel. I want to giggle like a schoolgirl, but I suspect he would think I’m silly. So I bite my lip and haul my basket of clothing to the dryer. My fingers tremble as I push quarters into the slot. Regan complains that the landlords charge us for the washer and dryer, but I like clean clothing, so I view it as a necessary evil.
I notice things about him. I notice that he’s wearing nice clothes, or at least, nicer than mine. I notice that he’s got tattoos on his fingers, and that when they touched mine, they were callused. The tattoos are a bit unnerving, but I have seen a lot of tattoos on people on the streets. Perhaps he simply appreciates the artistry of them.
I pick up a pair of wet jeans and shame hits me. They’re old and baggy, and there’s a bleach stain on one cuff. There’s nothing in my basket that could impress a man like him. I sneak a glance over at him, just in case he’s not watching me.
He is, though.
I flush and glance away again, hastily shoving my old, worn second-hand clothing into the dryer. Now I’m just being an idiot. Be bold, Daisy! I tell myself. He kissed your hand!
“So your name is Nick?” Duh, Daisy. He just told you that. Could you come up with a stupider question?
“Da.”
“It’s a lovely name. Is it Russian? You sound...foreign.” Oh dear. Now I sound really foolish. Regan would laugh at my Pollyanna ways.
“I am from Ukraine.”
I glance over at him again, and he’s watching me still, his flicking gaze cataloging my movements. It’s not an unfriendly gaze, even though he’s not smiling. It’s intense, though. All gray eyes and piercing stare. Like he wants to know all my secrets. I smile at him again. “I like your accent,” I say shyly. “It’s not one I’ve heard often.” Ever. Maybe on the internet in a video once. It sounds like he is caressing his syllables with his tongue, but I don’t say this. I’m not quite that bold yet.
“You are too kind. I know other languages but I am never able to shed my roots,” he says, and that accent makes my pulse flutter all over again.
I wish he would talk more. He seems on edge. Is it because I’m trying to flirt with him, and I’m pathetic at it? “Which floor are you on?”
He swiftly answers. “Second.”
I light up. “Me too. We’re neighbors.” I finish tossing my laundry into the dryer, and then there’s nothing else to do. Should I continue talking to him? I’m suddenly out of answers. I clutch my laundry basket, feeling helpless. He hasn’t moved from his wide-legged stance over in the shadowy corner of the laundry room. “I…guess if we’re on the same floor, I’ll see you around?”
He inclines his head at me. “Da, I will see you.” He looks down as if he’s embarrassed by something, and then he adds, “I should like that.”
“Me too. It was nice to meet you, Nick.” I feel my cheeks heat. “I’m in 224, if you ever need to borrow detergent or anything. Just let me know.”
Again, he inclines his head.
I feel a little silly for offering up so much information, but I can’t help myself. “Well, bye now.” I turn to the door, feeling as if I’ve just flubbed my first chance at flirting with a man.
His gaze moves to the flip phone I have shoved in my pocket. “Give me your phone,” he says and puts a hand out. “I will give you my number. You call me if you need anything.”
“She’s beautiful, delightful, elegant, exquisite, charming, divine, captivating, gorgeous, stunning, bewitching, admirable, and a million other inadequate words.”― Jewel E. Ann, Holding You Excerpt: Holding You When we reached my loft he carried us straight to the bedroom. His eyes never left mine, stealing a part of me I wasn't ready to give. I reached over to my nightstand and pressed a playlist on my iPod. Insatiable by Darren Hayes flowed from the speakers throughout my loft. The seductive song heightened the sexual tension that was always so electric between us. He took his time, lacing his fingers through my hair, kissing my neck and lips, cradling my face in his large hands as he rested his forehead on mine.
"You. Are. So. Beautiful," his breath whispered over my face.
My mended heart felt like someone was squeezing it to the breaking point. I had hoped he would just shove me to the wall and fuck my brains out, to make me feel wanted, but Quinn made me feel desired, beautiful, special … needed. I had to step back. The moment overtook me.
"I think I already made it clear that you're getting laid, overdoing it is unnecessary" I laughed trying to lighten the mood.
"Stop!" He tilted my head up, forcing me to look in his eyes. "Just … don't! We may not bare our souls to each other, but when I'm with you, like this..." he ran his finger over my lips then reverently kissed them "...I'm taking all of you, if only for this moment."
I hated him for that, but my body, as always with Quinn, deceived me. My mouth took his and I pulled the hem of his shirt up his back, breaking our kiss to pull it over his head. He reached for my shirt and followed suit. Leaning down, he pressed gentle kisses to the swell of my breasts as he unhooked my bra. I watched him leisurely cup my breasts, brushing his thumbs over my nipples. When I looked up, his eyes captured mine. "Beautiful," he breathed.
I hesitantly shook my head.
"Yes, you are and I'm going to show you just how much I think so."
My office sofa would love to meet you...naked. - Holding You, Jewel E. Ann
 Deep breath … I am peaceful, I am strong.
Free-spirited Addy Brecken is Milwaukee’s most talented vegan chef and co-owner of Sage Leaf Café. She has a genius IQ, a padded savings account, an amazing view of Lake Michigan, and a heart that won’t stop beating.
Deep breath … I am peaceful, I am strong.
An early April morning finds her drowning in the seductive fragrance of lilacs and the warmth of the morning sun when she’s nearly hit by a car in front of her café. The peaceful existence she’s desperately tried to maintain after the horrific loss of her family is suddenly shaken by the Range Rover driving, arrogant, sex-on-legs Quinn Cohen.
Deep breath … I am peaceful, I am strong.
A successful, Latino businessman from New York, Quinn has a taste for the finer things in life. A typical playboy, he has the money, the houses, the cars, and the women. Quinn is everything Addy avoids. Where she lives simply and prefers to help the less fortunate, he has no problem spending an obscene amount of money on a briefcase. Their opposite personalities lend to several heated encounters, and Addy finds herself propositioning Quinn for the one thing she never imagined needing … sex.
Offering only her body, Addy tries to keep Quinn at a safe distance from her heart and a world away from her past. Their passion-filled connection makes Addy feel something unfamiliar, alive. But with passion comes more feelings: anger, jealousy, love. When Addy surrenders to the unimaginable and lets go of her past, she’s faced with the impossible … holding on to her future.
Deep breath … I am peaceful, I am strong.
*This book contains adult language and sexual content.
"Holy hell , woman, your skinny ass legs are all muscle. You squeezed me like a damn vice. I swear I could fuck you to the moon and it still wouldn't be hard enough for you."
- Holding You, Jewel E. Ann
Author Information Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.
With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.
After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.
When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.
Holding You Teasers
(Click on picture for full view) GIVEAWAY
We're honored to have the opportunity to interview Colleen Hoover and Griffin Peterson for the upcoming release of MAYBE SOMEDAY. When we were given a chance to ask Colleen and Griffin anything about Maybe Someday, we didn't hold back, so please note, the interview questions and answers contains plot spoilers. We recommend you bookmark this interview and come back later if want to avoid spoilers. Personally, we love going into a story fresh and untainted, but if you're dying to get inside Colleen thought process a little, then proceed with caution. ;)
Maybe Someday releases March 18th - a unique and stunning love story from #1 New York Times Bestselling author Colleen Hoover. Colleen does it again, she owned our heart and we gave it to her freely. Thank you Colleen, for giving us another inspiring and deeply moving reading experience.
In our interview, Colleen reveals how she is able to write emotional gripping scenes, her experience writing an alternating POV story, and so much more! Plus, learn about Griffin's song writing experience for Maybe Someday! ENJOY! Maybe Someday with Colleen Hoover and Griffin Peterson
Disclaimer: Interview questions & answers contain plot spoilers. "Nothing in my life has ever felt so good, yet hurt so achingly bad."
- Maybe Someday by Colleen Hoover Maybe Someday Synopsis, Preorder Button (3/18), and Soundtrack Purchase Button From #1 New York Times bestselling author Colleen Hoover, a passionate tale of friendship, betrayal, and romance.
At twenty-two years old, Sydney has a great life: She's in college, working a steady job, in love with her wonderful boyfriend, Hunter, and rooming with her best friend, Tori. But everything changes when she discovers Hunter's cheating on her--and she is left trying to decide what to do next.
Sydney becomes captivated by Ridge, her mysterious neighbor. She can't take her eyes off him or stop listening to the passionate way he plays his guitar every evening out on his balcony. And there's something about Sydney that Ridge can't ignore, either. When their inevitable encounter happens, they soon find themselves needing each other in more ways than one...
Includes an original soundtrack created by musician Griffin Peterson.
From the author of the New York Times bestsellers Slammed, Point of Retreat, Hopeless, This Girl, and Losing Hope, Maybe Someday is destined to be another bestseller and long-lasting fan favorite.
"It’s not so easy when you’re trying to win a war against the heart.”
- Maybe Someday by Colleen Hoover Author Bio: Meet Colleen Hoover! 20 things you may or may not know about me.
1) The most obvious. I’m addicted to Diet Pepsi.
2) I hate styrofoam. A lot.
3) I live on a lake, but am terrified of water.
4) I’m very particular about my pens. In fact, there’s only one pen I like.
5) I have two sisters. One is completely opposite from me. The other is a good mixture of the two of us. I like them both okay.
6) I met my husband when I was sixteen and we married when I was twenty. I’m34 now, so I’ve been with him more than half my life. I like him a lot. He’s neat.
7) The word “author” terrifies me. It makes writing feel like work, and I never want this to feel like work.
8) I’m forgetful, disorganized, scatterbrained and aloof. I have no idea how I find it in me to finish a book and have it make any sense at all to a reader.
9) I’m horrible at booking flights. I mess up every single flight I book, so I’m no longer allowed to book flights. The last flight I booked I somehow managed to buy myself a ticket to New York City on a Friday and a return flight on the Thursday before. That’s kind of impossible without a wrinkle in time.
10) I love music. The Airborne Toxic Event and The Avett Brothers are my top two faves right now.
11) I don’t write to educate, inform or impress. I write to entertain. I hope it’s working.
12) I had never read a romance novel before writing SLAMMED. I pretty much stuck to true crime non-fiction and biographies before then. Now I barely have time to read, but when I do it’s more than likely an NA or YA contemporary romance.
13) I think Harry Connick, Jr. is neat. Really neat.
14) I hate my cell phone. It gives me anxiety and I hide it from myself a lot.
15) Because of #14, I’m a really crappy friend. I’m hard to get in touch with and kind of unreliable. I’m not proud of this, but I own it.
16) I grew up on a dairy farm milking cows every weekend. We had chickens and pigs and cows, but never a horse. My dad told us we didn’t have enough land to own a horse, but now that I’m an adult I realize that wasn’t true at all. We had plenty of land for a horse. I’m not resentful about never getting a horse. Nope. Not at all.
17) I hate shopping. Like REALLY hate it. It gives me anxiety.
18) I love going to the movies. It’s my favorite thing to do, even if the movie sucks.
19) I’m very unemotional and I’m not a romantic at all. So the fact that I write romance novels that make a lot of people cry is really strange.
20) Reading this list makes me sound like a terribly awful, forgetful, anxiety-ridden human being. I’m really not. I’m pretty normal.
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Check out these other Fabulous Books by Colleen Hoover!
We're spotlighting, ALLURING TIES by Skye Turner, companion Novella 2.5 of her scorching hot Bayou Stix series. If you're looking for your next steamy rocker series, this one is for you. Alluring Ties was such a fun & sexy novella and we finally get Bradi & Erik's love stories. True to any Skye Turner book, it's sizzling, but she still gave us some heart-wrenching moments between Bradi & Micah and Erik. It was so cute to read Bradi's first reaction to meeting Erik. Priceless!
Today enjoy hot teasers from Alluring Ties and if you haven't read the series, read the synopsis and excerpts from Books 1 and 2. Enjoy! Alluring Ties, Bk 2.5, Synopsis & Purchase Button  Alluring Ties is a companion novella to the Bayou Stix series. It’s Book 2.5 Bayou Stix. It is NOT recommended to be read as a standalone book.
Alluring Ties contains explicit sex, including some male/male, strong language and is not intended for anyone under the age of 18 or anyone who does not like M/M romance.
In Alluring Turmoil, we were introduced to Lexi Sloane’s two best friends, Bradi and Erik. Alluring Ties will take you on a journey into their pasts and bring you to their present.
Bradi St. James is a force to be reckoned with. She’s strong, independent, and has something to prove. All of her life, she’s watched the world around her and is determined to have a different fate from what she’s grown up with. The path you’ve always believed to be the right path, may not be your destiny after all.
Erik Jenson is a kind man. A nurturer and the kind of friend everyone wants to have. Growing up surrounded by friends and family who support him, he’s a confident man. The choices he must make and the chances he must take as he lives and grows make him the strong, loving man he becomes.
Disclaimer from Bradi St. James
Alluring Ties is NOT a full length novel, but is a companion novella to the Bayou Stix series.
It is recommended to be read in this order:
Alluring Turmoil, Book 1 Bayou Stix
Alluring Seduction, Book 2 Bayou Stix
Alluring Ties, Book 2.5 Bayou Stix
There are some situations which are not for everyone included in this novella: cheating, male/male romance and sex, and like all of Skye’s books, explicit language and hot ass sex.
If you can’t handle it, don’t read it. It’s that simple. But if you want to know more about myself and Erik, then turn the page and get started!
Teasers: Meet Bradi, Micah and Erik!
Click on pictures for Full View.
Alluring Turmoil, Bk 1, Excerpt, Synopsis and Purchase Button Read a Sexy & Fun Excerpt and Meet Lexi & Jude We settle on the benches in the gazebo and Lexi opens the bag to
see what I’ve gotten us for dinner. She pulls out two cheeseburgers and two
fries. Handing me one of each and keeping one for herself. Her legs are tucked
under her and her hair is a tangled mess of sexy red waves. She’s the most
beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
As hungry as I am, I can’t will my hands to pick up the burger. My brain is too focused on Lexi. I’m captivated. I watch as she takes a bite of her burger and my eyes follow her lips and tongue as she chews and licks a small crumb that’s stuck to the left side of her mouth.
Shifting uncomfortably, she blurts out, “What? Why are you staring at me like that? Is there food on my face?”
“Sorry, I just can’t help it.” I grin as she looks up. “What? I’m a man
and you’re a gorgeous woman. Simply delectable. And I know for a fact, you are
not wearing panties.”
Her face turns bright crimson and she sputters out, “Well, whose fault is that? I was wearing panties until some brute decided to rip through them. In my kitchen.”
I can’t control the laugh that comes out of my mouth. It’s deep and real. “Some brute, huh? Well, maybe you shouldn’t have looked at him and sent out vibes like you wanted to jump his bones in your kitchen.”
“I did no such thing.” She giggles. “Ok, well maybe I did.” Then she starts laughing and once she starts she can’t stop. Synopsis and Purchase Button  Alexia Sloane is the twenty-six year old owner of the highly successful Louisiana coffee shop/bakery, Java and Sweeties. The past couple of years have been all she’s dreamed of and her business takes all of her focus, all of her heart.
Jude Delecroix is the lead singer of one of the most famous rock bands in the country, Bayou Stix, and the man who broke Lexi’s heart.
Lexi and Jude have a past.
When Jude comes back to town eight years after leaving to fulfill his lifelong dream of being a famous musician and comes face to face with Lexi, forces collide, old hurts are brought to the surface, and life as these two have been living it will never be the same.
There are two sides to every story, and what happens when the things you believed to be concrete suddenly crumble like ash and fade away?
What happens when two people afraid to face the past, become involved in the present? Can they hope for a future?
Welcome to Louisiana where humidity and passion are high and things are not always what they seem.
***Contains graphic sex and language. Not for young readers.***
***Alluring Turmoil is a second chance love story and is nothing like a love story when strangers meet.
"One woman who has owned me, owned my heart, and once she broke it, there wasn't even a fragment big enough to accommodate anyone else."
- Alluring Turmoil by Skye Turner Teasers: More Jude & Lexie!
Click on pictures for Full View. Alluring Seduction, Bk 2, Excerpt, Synopsis and Purchase Button
Excerpt: Meet Jessie and Blue!
"I’m walking down the hall to my suite and I see Jessie’s suite door fly open and some disheveled blonde skank stomps out. She’s screaming into the room that he’s a “fucking asswipe” with her shoes in her hand, flipping him the bird with the other hand, and her hair is a mess. Classy.
She marches past me, jostling me with her shoulder, and never even spares me a glance. Stupid bitch. “Excuse you! Watch where you’re going!” Then, shaking my head, I mutter, “Bitch!”
My room is two doors down from his, so I have to walk past it. The door apparently didn’t latch from her “graceful exit” and is still open. My eyes stray to the inside of the room as I reach it. They widen as I take in the mess. Sheets and clothes are everywhere. Things are knocked over and, holy shit… is that a bra hanging from the light?
I can’t help but notice Jessie with his back to the door. He’s on the phone as he strips the bed and throws everything to the floor. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of low riding boxer briefs and I can clearly see his muscled, tattooed back. The colorful artwork on his arms ripples as he removes the sheets. His shoulder length blond hair is messy. Like someone, the skank I’m sure, has been running their hands through it.
I think I gasp. I hate that he gets my blood pumping and not just because he pisses me off! He hears me, and whips his head around. Shit!
His sky blue eyes meet mine and I can see he’s pulling on his lip ring with his teeth. His eyebrow raises and he smirks at my expression. I hurriedly school it as he strolls to the door. He stops right in front of me and leans against the doorjamb. “Really, Blue? Spying on me?” he says with disdain.
Alluring Seduction, Book 2, Synopsis and Purchase Button
 Warning: This book contains explicit language and explosive sex. It is an adult romance and not intended for anyone under the age of 18.
Jessie Adams is the womanizing, lead guitarist for the hottest rock band in the country, Bayou Stix. Seduction is his game. He does what he wants, when he wants, and with whom he wants. Women are playthings, but eventually meaningless sex with groupie after groupie gets old.
Blue Delaney has spent years working nonstop and cultivating her way to being the hottest rock reporter in the business and the lead reporter for Rock Hard Magazine. She’s confident, sexy, and has no time for games.
Jessie loves women and women love him, but something about Blue gets under his skin. She’s not what he’s used to.
Blue loves Bayou Stix and is friends with the guys, but something about Jessie pushes her buttons. It doesn’t stop her from wanting him.
When Blue is forced to go on tour with Bayou Stix and cover the band, tensions run high, chemistry is explosive, and Blue and Jessie begin to see each other in a new light.
Their attraction is obvious to everyone but them. But in the end… the question is who’s seducing whom and is chemistry enough to sustain a relationship?
Can this fierce woman tame this bad boy rocker? Does she want to?
"Now that I have you, I'm not letting you go. You told me to go all in and I'm ALL IN."
- Alluring Seduction, by Skye Turner
Smoking Hot Teasers: More Jessie and Blue!
Click on pictures for Full View.
Author Bio: Meet Skye Turner!
 I'm Skye Turner, a 34 year old avid reader and editor turned writer.
I attended Southeastern Louisiana University and Louisiana State University where I majored in Mass Communications, centering my studies in Journalism. Unfortunately life intervened and I made the choice to leave my studies.
I reside in small town Louisiana with my sexy husband, 2 children, and 4 fur babies.
When I'm not chained to my laptop pounding out sexy stories, I can usually be found playing Supermom, reading, cooking, baking, crafting, gardening (playing in the dirt), dancing like a fool, or catching up on my family oriented blog.
I love sexy stories and romance. I'm also obsessed with YA Paranormal Literature and anything with vampires or werewolves. But the hotter the book, the more I like it!
We're thrilled to participate in Pepper Winters' DESTROYED Blog Tour and Promotion. We recently discovered Pepper and her dark and erotic writing and love stories. Pepper did not let us down with Destroyed - as a reader, the title of the book accurately describes our feelings and emotions as we experienced and lived through Fox and Hazel's gutwrenching and tragic story. Our heart broke for Fox and we admired and loved Hazel's continued strength and support as Fox painfully struggled with his brutal past and present. If you're a fan of Pepper, she gives us another unique story with characters you will become completely invested in. We don't expect hearts and flowers with a Pepper Winters book, but we do expect a story that will stay with us long after we read the last page and Destroyed did exactly that - a definite recommendation!Today check out some sizzling and intense excerpts and enter a Blog Tour Giveaway to Win a Signed Paperback, SWAG and ebooks! Good Luck and enjoy! "I was obsessed with finding redemption. Destroyed by love. Possessed by hope. Consumed by a past I couldn't shake."
- Destroyed by Pepper Winters Destroyed Excerpt, Synopsis and Purchase Button It was the best kiss I’d ever received, but also the worst. It sparked lust and need in every inch of me. My lips wanted more, my tongue wanted savagery. My skin wanted to bruise because he needed to touch me so badly.
All my thoughts disappeared as I nipped at his bottom lip. He flinched, but a second later he copied, his sharp canines piercing my oversensitive flesh.
I moaned.
I couldn’t take it.
My hands flew up and gripped his shirt. Yanking him toward me, fireworks whizzed in my fingertips; my heart galloped toward exploding with lust. I’d never been so drunk on someone before.
Then I landed flat on my back.
The crack of my skull jangled my teeth. The thick carpet did little to cushion me. My eyes flared wide and I grunted in pain. Fear, hot and terrible, swamped my lust in a dampening wave.
 SYNOPSIS
She has a secret.
I'm complicated. Not broken or ruined or running from a past I can't face. Just complicated.
I thought my life couldn't get any more tangled in deceit and confusion. But I hadn't met him. I hadn't realized how far I could fall or what I'd have do to get free.
He has a secret.
I've never pretended to be good or deserving. I chase who I want, do what I want, act how I want.
I didn't have time to lust after a woman I had no right to lust after. I told myself to shut up and stay hidden. But then she tried to run. I'd tasted what she could offer me and damned if I would let her go.
Secrets destroy them.
Destroyed is a complicated love story between a man with a terrible past and a woman who holds his cure. A man who finds redemption in love and a woman who loses her heart and reason for living.
Death brings life, and destruction brings new beginnings.
"You fucking own me, Hazel."
"I don't own you. I'll never own you. You're free. You fought your past and you found a way to me."
- Destroyed by Pepper Winters Destroyed Teasers: More Fox and Hazel!
(Click on the pictures for full view) Author Bio: Meet Pepper Winters! Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero the better and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby (who speaks French—hot!) who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends. She loves to hear from her readers so hit her up at: pepperwinters@gmail.com.
STALK Pepper: Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads Blog Tour Giveaway: Go HERE to WIN Signed Paperback, SWAG & ebooks!
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