IDLE BLOOM IS LIVE! We love, love, love this book. Vivian and Oliver's story is emotional, quirky and sexy! Read Chapter One & Enter to Win a $25 Gift Card Chapters 1-3
Meet Oliver & Vivian  "What lies beneath my veiled perfection is the ugly truth—my truth, my reality, my destiny."
Vivian Graham has an acceptance letter into Harvard, a badass tattoo, loyal friends, ties to marijuana, a penchant for Dunkin’ Donuts, and her pesky V-card.
Everyday she takes the Red Line to her job at The Green Pot in Boston while her friends enter the coveted, black iron gates to higher learning. The ramifications from a tragic accident have put her life on hold while time marches on for everyone around her.
After graduating from Harvard Law, Boston native, Oliver Konrad, moves to Portland to start his career and his life. Three years later, after a horrific discovery, he returns home to trade in his three-piece suit for leather work boots and his suburban home for a condo in Cambridge.
All he brought back to the East Coast was an aversion to pillows and secrets he keeps hidden behind a mysterious locked door. Oliver’s days are predictable and his nights are lonely until he meets Vivian on the subway. Her long raven hair, green eyes, and mile-long legs are achingly sexy, but the way she "innocently" fingers and licks her Boston Kreme doughnut can only be described in two words—complete torture.
When their paths cross at every turn, laughter is abundant, friendship is easy, and love is unintentional. However, their future seems improbable.
Meet the author 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.
STALK HER: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Intagram | Goodreads | Pinterest
GIVEAWAY
Meet Blaire With champagne and caviar inundating my every sense, I slither through the light wooden floors of the Lila Acheson Wallace Wing in The Met. As I walk, I pretend to admire the expensive jewelry being showcased tonight by a famous designer whose name I can’t remember. A multicolored diamond butterfly sparkles to my left and a cobra made out of black stones glistens to my right. Rows upon rows of precious gems twinkle under the soft lights of the room, flooding the space between the walls with the glow of a thousand stars. Furtive glances. Secrets gossiped. Beauty criticized. Lofty music fills the atmosphere as the über rich mingle and pretend to like each other, yet you can almost taste their conceit and derision for one another in the air.
This is Walker’s world, and I love it.
Standing across the room, where the crowd is thinner and the music fainter, I spot Walker’s blond head in the corner of the room, talking to a group of his colleagues and their wives. He looks polished and worth every penny of his trust fund in his sleek black tuxedo, perfectly starched white shirt and black bowtie. His long golden hair parted to the side shines like the sun. He is truly flawless.
I smile because it’s hard to picture that this is the same guy who likes to snort coke off my tits as he fucks me while hardcore porn plays in the background. He looks untouchable and so cool, but his searching eyes, scanning the crowd for me give him up. He’s wondering where I am. He did tell me not to go too far, after all. Soon after we arrived at the party, I gave him some space to talk to his friends and do his thing while I did mine. I hate clingy people, so I avoid being one.
I grab a third flute of champagne from a passing waiter, and try to decide which of the different displays to check out first when my eyes land on a spectacular piece of jewelry. On a bed of black silk, similar to my hair color, lies an extravagant necklace made of diamonds and rubies—a small heaven within one’s reach as long as you can afford the price.
I bridge the space between the glass protecting the necklace and me until it’s within my reach, fighting the urge to touch the cool surface. As if under a spell, I observe how the rows of diamonds embedded in platinum form leaves and thorns. At its center is a rose made out of red diamonds almost as big as my palm.
I feel someone walk up and stand next to me, but I don’t give him or her a second thought as I continue to admire the way the light hits the gems, making them shine.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
His voice is smooth and commanding, dripping absolute power. I keep my eyes locked on the display. Call it sixth sense, but somehow I know that under no circumstance should I make eye contact with the stranger who speaks like the ruler of the world.
“Yes,” I say simply.
“I wonder how much it is?” the man asks.
“I don’t think it matters … I highly doubt anyone can afford it.”
He chuckles, and the sound is more delicious than his voice. Lusher. “Oh, but I can.”
I smile at his self-assurance. I love cocky assholes. “I still doubt it.”
“You shouldn’t. I only speak the truth,” he retorts coolly. His voice is nonchalant yet his words leave no room for disbelief—a demand and a statement all in one.
Suddenly, the noises of the room become distant. People talking and laughing amongst friends and the orchestra playing all fade away until all I hear is him speaking.
And at this moment, that is all that matters.
“The truth is very subjective, sir.”
“The truth may be subjective but money isn’t. Money can buy anything.”
His answer is like an electroshock, jumpstarting my brain from a champagne-induced haze. My pulse begins to accelerate, excitement making it hard to take a deep breath. Don’t look at him … don’t.
“Oh really,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s right, though.
“Of course. I believe everything,” he pauses, “and everyone has a price.”
Curiosity winning the battle against curiosity, I turn to face him, and what a fucking big mistake that is. When our eyes meet, I feel incapacitated of all sense and movement. The sight of him takes my breath away. This man gives the term “lust at first sight” a whole new meaning.
In my short twenty-three years, I’ve been with extremely handsome men, perfect even, but to classify the man standing next to me in any kind of category would be a disservice to him, and not really fair to the others. Longish, light brown hair wildly framing his face, vacant eyes the color of dollar bills, a slightly crooked nose, and a mouth that begs to be buried deep within your thighs. His beauty is as harsh as it is stunningly perfect. Dressed in a simple black tuxedo and unbuttoned white shirt, the man exudes innate virility and grace, reminding me of a black panther stalking his prey. And just like a panther, it’s the pure raw and powerful energy emanating from within him that I find most attractive. Because just by standing next to him, I get the sense that his word is always the last spoken and his wishes the first ones to be fulfilled. He doesn’t ask, he demands. He doesn’t hope, he expects.
He’s quiet for a moment; his uncanny eyes hold me captive as though they are baring my soul to him and I hate it. I tighten my hold on the crystal flute. I want to look away, but I can’t. The way he’s staring at me makes me want to squirm.
“I wonder … do you have one?” he asks softly before turning to examine the piece of jewelry once more.
“A what?” I ask, momentarily stunned.
He smiles. “A price.”
“For the right amount … I just might,” I say quietly, my heart beating so fast it feels as though it wants out of my chest. As soon as the words leave my mouth, there’s no shock coursing down my body, no rolling waves of shame pulling me down for having said that to a complete stranger—nothing.
And why should there be? I am who I am.
I’m staring at his profile, waiting for him to acknowledge my answer, when a breeze of cool air floats past us, making me shiver. About to chase the goose bumps on my arm with my hand, I watch as he slowly turns to look at me, catching me staring at him. Time stands still as I watch him raise his large tanned hand and touch my bare shoulder, his fingertips lightly grazing the temporary small bumps covering it. Then he smiles as if he knows that my skin is tingling from his scalding touch, and looks away.
“I thought so.”
We remain standing next to each other for another minute or so, the distance between us almost nonexistent. It would be so easy to reach out and hold his hand. The sound of an incoming call breaks the silence, bringing us back to reality.
He takes his cell phone out of the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and ignores the call after noting the name of the caller. He lifts his gaze to meet my own.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I should go … I’m here with someone,” I reply, not really wanting to leave him just yet.
“Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”
I frown. He didn’t have to be quite so blunt. The stranger extends a hand toward me, holding something in his fingers.
“Here … ”
I open my hand as I feel the edges of what I assume is his business card poke the skin of my palm. “What’s this?” I ask stupidly.
“My business card, of course.”
“Obviously … but why?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s just say that I’m an interested buyer.”
And then he’s gone.
He turns and walks away from me, disappearing into a sea of colorful gowns and black suits. As the sounds of the party infiltrate my ears once more, I lower my gaze to stare at the simple cream-colored card in my hand. Its simplistic and elegant design draws attention to the name printed in bold black letters on the paper.
Lawrence Rothschild.
I smile and let my fingertips trail his name. It depends on what you’re willing to pay, Mr. Rothschild.
 Love is selfish...
My name is Blaire.
I'm the bad girl.
The other woman.
The one who never gets the guy in the end.
I'm the gold digger.
The bitch.
The one no one roots for.
The one you love to hate.
I hate myself too...
Everyone has a story. Are you ready for mine?
Teaser Pics
(click on pic for full view)
Idle Bloom by Jewel E Ann is one of our favorites of the year! We LOVE, LOVE this book!
Meet Oliver & Vivian in this sexy, quirky & emotional stand-alone.
You will laugh, you will cry and most of all, you will not be disappointed!
Read an excerpt & enter to win a signed paperback! Excerpt
Meet Oliver & Vivian “I don’t need panties.”
“I disagree,” he says with his back to me as he signs for the purchase at the counter. He takes the bag in one hand and grabs my hand with his other. “Shall we?” He leads me out of the store.
“A, I have plenty of panties. B, I told you I don’t wear them sometimes because it makes me feel sexy.”
He opens my door and sets the bag by my feet after I get in. Then he leans down and brings his face a breath away from mine as his hand slides up my leg. His thumb eases past my shorts. He stops and shakes his head as the pad of it meets my bare sex, no underwear.
My face contorts into a grimacing smile as my shoulders rise into a guilty shrug. He presses his thumb to my now wet center. My mouth relaxes as I suck in a breath and try to close the distance between our lips. He moves his head back just enough to deny me. He grins then moves his thumb a little higher. I moan as he rubs slow circles.
“How do you feel?” he whispers.
“G–good.” I grip the side of the seat and let my head fall back.
“What else?”
“Turned … on.” I close my eyes.
“What else?”
I tilt my hips up as he works me up so high I fear my own reaction to the impending fall.
“Oli …”
He speeds up, pressing his lips to my neck, and when his teeth graze over my sensitive skin I lose it.
“What. Else?” he whispers in my ear as the blinding sensation rips through me.
“Sexy … I feel … sexy.” I try to catch my breath while my head’s still spinning.
He kisses me hard then shuts my door.
I hate that I have no self-control to deny him giving me an orgasm while parked with the door open on a public street. Now he’s sporting a ridiculously smug grin as he pulls out into traffic.
“What was the point of that?” I break the silence.
“I wanted to prove that I make you feel sexy. Now that you know that, you can start wearing underwear.”
“What does it matter if no one else can see that I’m not wearing underwear?”
“First, some of the dresses you wear are awfully short. Second, I know you’re not wearing underwear and I don’t like walking around saluting everyone I pass.”
“Saluting?”
He shoots me a you-know-what-I-mean look.
“Whatever, you’re just being weird.”
“I’m being a guy.”
“That’s what I said. You’re being weird.”
 "What lies beneath my veiled perfection is the ugly truth—my truth, my reality, my destiny."
Vivian Graham has an acceptance letter into Harvard, a badass tattoo, loyal friends, ties to marijuana, a penchant for Dunkin’ Donuts, and her pesky V-card.
Everyday she takes the Red Line to her job at The Green Pot in Boston while her friends enter the coveted, black iron gates to higher learning. The ramifications from a tragic accident have put her life on hold while time marches on for everyone around her.
After graduating from Harvard Law, Boston native, Oliver Konrad, moves to Portland to start his career and his life. Three years later, after a horrific discovery, he returns home to trade in his three-piece suit for leather work boots and his suburban home for a condo in Cambridge.
All he brought back to the East Coast was an aversion to pillows and secrets he keeps hidden behind a mysterious locked door. Oliver’s days are predictable and his nights are lonely until he meets Vivian on the subway. Her long raven hair, green eyes, and mile-long legs are achingly sexy, but the way she "innocently" fingers and licks her Boston Kreme doughnut can only be described in two words—complete torture.
When their paths cross at every turn, laughter is abundant, friendship is easy, and love is unintentional. However, their future seems improbable.
Meet the author 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.
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Intagram | Goodreads | Pinterest
GIVEAWAY
 We're thrilled to spotlight Saving Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia. Book 3 of the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood series. We love this beautifully dark, gritty, and unconventional series when we first met Blake and Livia in book 1, Poughkeepsie. Saving Poughkeepsie is the continuation of Beckett and Eve's love story with all our favorite characters from the series as key characters and we are given a chance to fall in love with them all over again.
Read an excerpt from Saving Poughkeepsie, check out fantastic teasers, and enter to win ebooks sets of the series (5 winners) and SWAG pack (5 winners). Enjoy and good luck!
“I’m not worried about tomorrow. I’m worried about right now, with you, under this Christmas tree.” Blake supported her neck as he laid her on the floor.
Livia turned her head. “You’d better convince me. So far you’ve talked about the dog going to the bathroom, trash, and dirtiness.”
Blake kissed her jaw and turned her head gently, kissing her mouth as she bit her lips together.
“Can’t I just convince you with my manly ways?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
He could, of course, do just that—but she shook her head. She loved the playful sparkle in his green eyes. His five o’clock shadow just made him more handsome, framing his kissable lips with scruff.
“Okay.” He put his fingers at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it gently so he could circle her belly button with his index finger. “You’re the sexiest, most beautiful woman on this planet. So sexy, in fact, that I had to have you. I had to make you bear my children because my universe and yours had to be combined. Everything I’ve ever been needed to be buried inside of you, so deep, so full of love that we created life. Twice.”
He lifted her shirt and kissed the tops of her breasts, whispering his devotion into her skin. “And it’s never enough. Unless I can hear you coming, I can’t think of anything else. All day every day. For years now. You’re that powerful, Livia. This. Us. It’s so intense that years haven’t cured me. I can’t stop wanting to make love to you.”
“Wow.” Livia smiled and pulled his face back to hers, kissing him and effectively stopping his beautiful words. Saving Poughkeepsie Teasers
Click on pictures for full view  Beckett Taylor's quest to be a better man has brought Eve Hartt back into his life, but sometimes it feels like they're bound together with barbed wire. Though he longs to love her without causing pain, the wreckage of their past continues to crash down around them.
Yet with the help of this brothers--and for his brothers--Beckett won't stop trying.
He's determined to make them all a family, to make a life they want to live, and to make Poughkeepsie a place that's safe to live it.
He can feel their futures balanced precariously on his shoulders: Blake and Livia and their children, Cole and Kyle and the new baby they've just brought home, and Eve...always Eve. He wants their dreams to be real.
But murderers don't just get Happily Ever After handed to them. They
have to wrench it away from Satan himself. Good thing Beckett is prepared to do just that.
After all, saving Poughkeepsie is the only way his story ends.
Prepare your heart and your head for a wild ride in this final installment of the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood series. Debra Anastasia does not disappoint as she weaves the last chapter of a story that blends true love, turbulent emotions, and life's harsh realities into an uplifting tale that calls to the good in each of us.
“He moved to her earlobe and breathed, “First, I will blow, then I will lick, last I will bite.” Blake took his time blowing an elaborate pattern on her stomach, and Livia was pretty sure he’d spelled the word torture.”
- Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia Giveaway: Win Poughkeepsie series ebook set (5) and SWAG pack (5)
What has hot alpha men, a sexy doctor, a Texas Cowboy, Stunning Irish Gents and lots of Love, Laughter and Merrily Ever Afters? You guessed it, the new $0.99 anthology, Love, Laughter & Merrily Ever Afters by 10 fabulous authors. Today, we have a unique opportunity for you to read an excerpt from each book and a chance to win a $50 Gift card or your very own copy of this fantastic box set.  TEN steamy, romantic holiday novellas by ten New York Times & USA Today bestselling authors
An all-star gathering of some of today's most popular NYT and USA Today bestselling romance authors in a fun-filled collection...holiday style! With the overwhelming response to the chart-topping summer boxed set, we've brought together even MORE of your favorite authors for a winter compilation, and this time, we've giftwrapped TEN stories for you all. From the funny & heartfelt, to the sizzling & spicy, each novella is packed with a whole lot of romance, and hand-picked to infuse perfectly-portioned holiday cheer into your busy days this season...along with HOT bursts of holiday steam for those winter nights.
 Lily the holiday fairy is given a new assignment this Christmas season--teach a lonely doctor how to love
again. But all Lily knows how to do is gently coerce people into embracing the Christmas spirit; she doesn't have a clue what love really is. So imagine her surprise when she falls madly in love--and lust--with the good doctor in the process.
|  Lacey James is wild, spontaneous, and up for anything. Daniel Sullivan is careful, sensible, and mending his broken heart. When the unlikely pair get stranded together on the way home for the holidays, Lacey finds her long-term crush impossible to ignore. And as a game of truth or dare spins out of control, Daniel discovers the one girl he truly wants is the last person he expected.
|  Hope Camden is relentlessly serious, awkwardly shy, and in complete need of a walk on the
wilder side. At least, that's what her sister tells her when she drags her off on an impromptu Christmas getaway in the mountains, where Hope meets gorgeous, enigmatic Army helicopter pilot Jack Freeman...who's headed off to war in a week.
|  If anyone can make Drew Lawson believe in the magic of Christmas, of course the universe would pick
the addictively sweet, mind-wreckingly beautiful Skylar Sullivan to try. She's only the girl-next-door of his dreams he'd classified as completely off-limits two years ago...the same one now standing on his doorstep on Christmas Eve.
|  All Samantha Mazze wants for Christmas is to create the perfect Christmas Eve celebration for her friends
and family. The house is decorated, the meal has been prepared, the guests are arriving… and then all hell breaks loose. There’s no salvaging the burned garlic knots. Her husband’s ex-girlfriend makes an appearance. And the unexpected delivery of a new arrival all ensure that while this isn’t a picture-perfect holiday, it will go down in history as the Heat Wave gang’s most memorable and best holiday ever.
|  What's a girl to do when she finds herself held captive in a bedroom--with the man she's been lusting after for months--by a voyeuristic spirit on Christmas Eve? Give it what it wants, of course. If a holiday romp with her sexy co-worker is what it'll take for Elly Watson to solve her latest Paranormal Task Force case, she's up for the challenge...over and over again if need be.
|  All Faith Roberts wants for Christmas is one sexy night with Matthew Carlton, the hot, gorgeous pediatric surgeon posing as Santa for a visit to the children's ward where she volunteers. While Matthew is more than willing to fulfill her naughty wishes, he's determined to show Faith that he's the kind of gift that keeps on giving.
|  When Lula Jo refused Carter's proposal one dark December night--unwilling to abandon her hometown to live the dangerous life of a treasure hunter's wife--the holiday lights went out in her heart. She vowed to keep her distance from dangerous men and untamed cowboys. But now Carter is back and hoping for a
holiday miracle to reunite him with his first and only love.
|  It's Christmas Eve, and all seven of the Collins siblings have gathered together to give their father Patrick a precious gift. Gather 'round the tree and join the Collins family as they pass a bottle of Jameson, and Patrick shares the story of how he won the heart of Sunday, his true love, his soul mate...and the mother of his seven Wild Irish.
|  War hero Joaquin Morales is back in Holland Springs for the first time in years. His mission? To convince his wife that they have a future together. But falling in love with her husband for the second time is not a part of Sage Caswell's plans this holiday Season. With the help of a little Christmas magic
(and a well-timed snowstorm), can Joaquin and Sage's dreams come true?
| GIVEAWAY
Any Way We Want by Grey Cole is LIVE!
Meet Royce & Shea in this new erotic serial romance! Read a very steamy excerpt and enter to win a gift card just in time for Christmas! Excerpt Champagne always made her giggly and warm and tingly. Especially tingly. If she’d had a man, you better believe she would be fucked six ways from Sunday right about now. Instead, Luna found herself finishing off a few reports after saying goodnight to the guys. It had been a stellar day. Phase Two—by far the largest coup in their plan—had been firmly achieved. Royce had broken out the champagne, and Luna managed to consume copious amounts before promising the men she would call a cab when she was ready to head out for the night. They were reluctant to leave her behind, but their desire to do a little personal celebrating of their own was palpable. Far be it for her to stand in the way of the double dose of the pure male need and testosterone that engulfed the room.
Since she and Shea had become fast friends, he had divulged more than his share of their passionate tale to her over the last six months, even though she felt sure that he’d kept it toned down for her benefit. Still, she felt like she could read them. When she noticed little things, like the way Royce’s fingertips would curl possessively around Shea’s bicep at the end of even the briefest touch or when Shea’s eyes would suddenly shine brighter while Royce presented the most boring of facts and figures, Luna would glance to the others present in the room to see if they, too, were aware of exactly how sexual … how sensual … their bosses were. But, it seemed she alone picked up on these things. No raised eyebrows. No gossip around the water cooler.
That made her wonder if she was actually picking up on things, or if she was just perving on the gorgeous duo. Her subconscious picked that moment to send X-rated images flitting across her brain, involuntarily making her squeeze her crossed legs tighter. In an effort to halt her mind’s deviant trajectory, she grasped at the water bottle to her right, only to send it spinning across the desk until it toppled over the edge and skittered across the floor to come to a halt by the door.
Deciding she had probably done enough damage for the night, she saved all her documents and logged out of the computer before jotting herself a note. Sticking it to the computer, she laughed out loud at the message. You were drunk and horny last night, double check your files before sending. A little unsteady, she made her way to the abused water bottle, figuring she should refill it to stay hydrated. She’d call for a cab and head home to finish off the night with some Pinot and some porn. This time she actually giggled out loud. Pinot and porn. God, if only to have the third P present. Oh well, she thought, wiggling her fingers in front of her face, you’ll have to do.
She ended up tiptoeing down the hall, cringing at how dark and still it was when no one was around. Just when she seemed to become accustomed to the difference, she heard them. Moans and groans and curses and near shouts. Luna froze for a moment before understanding hit her with her blunt force. Where her body tingled before—now it sang. Where she’d been warm—she blazed. Her eyes flew to the partially closed door of Royce and Shea’s office, only daring to listen for a moment longer before she turned on her heel and darted back to her own office.
Her water bottle hit the floor with a clang as she slammed the door behind her. Wincing at the loud noise, she waited a moment to see if she would be discovered before rushing over to her desk. Only a security light from the hall cast a dull ray of light into her office. She eased herself into her chair and spun it so that she faced the windows. Luna’s face burned anew as she recalled the frantic words exchanged between Royce and Shea. Even her wicked imagination had not done them justice.
She could make out her own expression in the glass—pupils blown, hair disheveled, clothes askew. Taking a few calming breaths, Luna closed her eyes tightly, but as soon as she did, images of the two men locked in a passionate embrace flooded her brain.
Fuck me, Royce.
Take every inch of me. You like that don’t you? When I pull your hair, you nearly come undone.
Fuck yeah. Please, Royce.
Luna would do anything to have those words lavished upon her, to be able to say those very things to them. So, she pretended they included her. That she was the object of their desire and they were hers. The little app on her iPad filled with the gay porn blogs she’d become addicted to after meeting the men had nothing on the heat those two created within her. She couldn’t have stopped her hands if she’d tried. The things had a mind of their own when they bunched her loosely flowing skirt around her waist and dove into her panties. Her fingers circled her clit for a moment before dipping into the searing wetness. She fingered herself hard for a moment, even throwing her own hand over her mouth to muffle the obscene noises threatening to bubble from her throat.
When her clit throbbed with need, she pushed her thumb to it.
Pressed.
Teased.
Pinched.
Repeated the pattern again and again.
When she felt herself on the verge of coming, Luna shoved both fingers in her vagina again.
Rotated them.
Spread them.
She liked it rough. Fuck, did she like it rough. She held her breath, knowing that would make her orgasm all the more intense. Her head slammed back against the chair. Her hips circled to ride her fingers to the finish.
Then her fingers were replaced by Royce’s. Fuck, but they were thick and demanding.
She needed Shea too. She pinched her lips together so that she could remove her hand. That hand flew down to squeeze one nipple. Hard. It was Shea thumbing the bud and then twisting so hard, asking if she liked that. Yes, Shea. Just like that, Luna moaned.
Royce told her to fuck his hand like she meant it, so she did. He needed to know she meant it. She cried out his name.
She bent and bucked and writhed. Then she came.
Silently.
Harshly.
Harder than she’d ever come before.
Her men smiled at each other. Then at her. Then they kissed, almost chastely, counteracting the wild moment. They kissed her. She tasted them on each other. Royce pressed his fingers into her mouth, and Luna licked them clean before he removed them and sucked her tongue into his mouth.
Luna’s body seemed to melt into the chair. Time was suspended. Her breaths were shallow and hot. Once she opened her eyes, she knew they would disappear, taking their sweet kisses and their panty-combusting commands with them. She almost couldn’t bear it. Right now, their presence was so strong she could almost feel it.
With a deep sigh, she let her fingers fall from her mouth and her breast. Both hands dropped to the chair with a thud. She giggled again at how deeply sated she was.
Only, her giggle seemed to echo. But it was deeper. Richer. More masculine.
She was drunker than she thought.
Luna’s eyes fluttered open and closed. Open and closed. She finally fixed her stare on the glass where twin gazes of amusement shone back at her. One an intense blue. The other a mesmerizing hazel.
Too late to pretend embarrassment, Luna swallowed her nerves and met their eyes with her own.
“Luna, dear girl,” Royce tsked, “if only we’d known.”
Shea dipped his head and bit Royce’s shoulder. “God, if we’d known,” he groaned.
Luna chose to believe that the champagne made her bold when she brazened, “And if you’d known?”
“That’s simple, darling. We could have celebrated. The three of us. Together,” Royce declared.
Inside, she gasped, even though she hoped she remained steadfast in appearance. But you’re both gay. Why would you want me? Her naïveté won in the end when she whispered, “But how would that even work?”
Royce spun her chair around to face them as they sat perched on her desk. “Any way we want.”
 I couldn’t have picked two men more opposing than they. One dark-headed, slightly controlling, but intuitive. The other all unruly copper curls, somewhat bashful, but sensual. Yet, my fall for them felt the same—hard and fast.
I never slept around or cheated, but when you're the girl who got dumped for being too kinky--you realize and accept you are different. Somehow, some way, they had to be mine. My mind spun with what could be, and I set out to entice them with my fantasy.
Only, my plot had a twist…Royce and Shea were already lovers. Luckily for me, they liked to share.
Warning: Contains a headstrong daughter of nudist, hippy parents, an Alpha with seriously protective instincts, positive representations of Asperger's Syndrome and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and oh yeah, M/M, M/M/M, M/M/F, and M/F/M.
Meet the author Grey Cole always dreamt of a book that featured hot male-on-male action that grew to encompass one lucky woman. Okay … maybe Grey really dreamt of this scenario playing out in real life and then decided to purge all those dirty thoughts onto the page.
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 Owning Violet, by New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy, releases very soon on December 2nd. The first book of Monica's new series, the Fowler Sisters, a sexy new contemporary romance series that introduces three sisters born to wealth, raised to succeed, ready to love, destined to make waves.
We had the pleasure of reading an advance copy and enjoyed Ryder and Violet's scorching hot romance... filled with suspense, lies, secrets, and explosive heat. Ryder is pure yummiest... a perfect mix of a dominant dirty-talking alpha and a sweet, protective broken bad boy. Read the sizzling excerpt, meet Ryder Mckay, and you'll be as hooked and intrigued as we are.... Pre-order now for the December 2 delivery. Plus, enter to win a paperback. Enjoy and good luck.
"I'm going to seduce Violet Fowler. I have the distinct feeling that in the hands of the right man, Violet Fowler would be anything but boring."
- Ryder McKay, Owning Violet by Monica Murphy
Excerpt:: Meet Ryder & Violet Taking a deep breath, I slip my Chanel bag over my shoulder and exit the bathroom, stopping short when I see a man stand- ing in the darkened hallway, almost as if he was waiting for me. His face is in shadows but I recognize his build, the way he holds himself. Confident, with that arrogant tilt of his head and those incredibly broad shoulders.
It’s Ryder McKay.
“Well, well, well. Violet Fowler, how are you this evening?” His rumbly deep voice washes over me as he steps out of the shadows, tall and imposing and handsome as sin.
I take a step back, not wanting him in my personal space, but he invades it anyway. “Mr. McKay,” I say politely, not daring to call him by his first name. That would imply I know him, that we’re friends or at the very least friendly coworkers, and we’re neither of those things. He may work at Fleur, but I rarely speak to him. I don’t have to, and besides . . .
There’s something about all that edgy darkness and how it radiates from him. He demands attention without saying a word, and there’s an air of danger that surrounds him, that en- snares me despite my reluctance to be near him. The innate sexuality that he represents . . . it scares me.
He scares me.
“I’ve worked at Fleur long enough for you to call me Ryder, don’t you think?” He pauses for a heavy beat and the air seems to fill with electricity as I wait for him to speak. “You don’t mind that I call you Violet, do you?”
He somehow makes my name sound like a sexual promise. I take another step back and my butt hits the wall. He smiles, and I know he knows I’ve realized I’m trapped. “Of course you can call me Violet,” I say, thankful my voice isn’t shaking. I have no idea what to say to him, how to act. “Did you have a nice dinner?”
He grins. “Why yes, I did, thank you for asking. The view was spectacular.” His gaze slides down the length of me, taking me all in. My breasts, my stomach, my hips, my legs, lingering on my feet before moving back up, his gaze once more on mine. “The food was good, too.”
Sizzling Owning Violet Teasers
Click on pictures for full view  New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy begins a sexy new contemporary romance series—perfect for fans of Christina Lauren and Emma Chase—that introduces three sisters born to wealth, raised to succeed, ready to love, destined to make waves.
I’ve moved through life doing what’s expected of me. I’m the middle daughter, the dutiful daughter. The one who braved a vicious attack and survived. The one who devoted herself to her family’s business empire. The one who met an ambitious man and fell in love. We were going to run Fleur Cosmetics together, Zachary and I.
Until he got a promotion and left me in the dust. Maybe it’s for the best, between his disloyalty and his wandering eye. But another man was waiting for me. Wanting me. He too has an overwhelming thirst for success, just like Zachary—perhaps even more so. He’s also ruthless. And mysterious. I know nothing about Ryder McKay beyond that he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.
One stolen moment, a kiss, a touch . . . and I’m hooked. Ryder’s like a powerful drug, and I’m an addict who doesn’t want to be cured. He tells me his intentions aren’t pure, and I believe him. For once, I don’t care. I’m willing to risk everything just to be with him. Including my heart. My soul.
My everything.
“This woman makes me feel too much. Makes me soft when I’ve been nothing but hard. Unfeeling. I didn’t like it then. I hated it. Now, I crave it. Need it. Need her.”
- Ryder McKay, Owning Violet by Monica Murphy
Giveaway: Win a Paperback of Owning Violet
Maybe Not, by #1 New York Times bestselling author Colleen Hoover, released today as a special surprise for Colleen's devoted readers and for Maybe Someday fanatics who were craving a Warren & Bridgette story. We were given the opportunity to interview Colleen to ask specific questions related to this new release written from the beloved Warren's point of view. We had the pleasure of reading an advance copy and simply adored it. This is classic Colleen Hoover brilliant storytelling jam packed with funny banter, memorable scenes, and unexpected plot twists. Read the Q & A and find out if Warren will ever discover the name of the infamous porn. "I can't inhale, no matter how hard I try, because the need to kiss her has taken over... I need her air. I kiss her so desperately, I forget that I'm still mad at her."
- Maybe Not by Colleen Hoover Interview: Colleen Hoover Maybe Not Q&A Wow! What an initial meeting! You are known for writing some great first meetings in your books but the naked bathroom seen has to be the most…interesting. How do you decide where and when your characters initially meet?
When I wrote Maybe Someday, Bridgette and Warren were side characters who already knew each other, so I didn’t give much thought to when and how they met. Once I started writing Maybe Not, their story was already in place from that book. Any time I go back and have to build a second story from one I’ve already developed, it gets tricky. I have to read the first book line for line to make sure and catch anything that may give a clue as to why they could be together. In Maybe Someday, Ridge wasn’t sure how Brennan played a role in Bridgette’s story, but he knew they were close. So I had to build from that, and also explain how Warren and Bridgette came together. I always think it’ll be easy to write a story from side-characters, but once I start it, I realize how much detail has to go into it to make sure it matches up with the novel that’s already out there.
Reading Maybe Not from Warren’s POV gave us not only his journey but also a glimpse of his perspective on the Ridge and Sydney storyline from Maybe Someday. We, the reader, were able to see how Warren interpreted Ridge’s struggle with his feelings for Sydney. Was that intentional?
Yes. Warren and Ridge were very close, and since the timeline for Maybe Not is somewhat congruent to Maybe Someday, I knew that as Ridge’s friend, Warren would have to be taking notice into what’s going on in his best friend’s life. I tried to touch on that, but at the same time I wanted to not spoil too much for people who haven’t read Maybe Someday yet, while staying true to Warren’s character.
Our heart broke for Bridgette’s tragic upbringing and we understood why her walls were in place, but can we take a minute to properly swoon over Warren? The way he just knew not to push her during the day but be whomever she needed at night. The way he teased her relentlessly. Where did Warren come from and where can we get one??
I love Warren and Bridgette’s relationship. It’s not at all a conventional one, and some people who read Maybe Someday weren’t that crazy about Warren. They definitely weren’t crazy for Bridgette. He’s not for everyone, but he is definitely one of the few who could click with Bridgette. She’s a hard one to love, and that was a challenge with this book. Taking two characters who weren’t all that appealing and somehow making their story work as a romance. But that’s what I love about Warren and Bridgette. I don’t think any other guy could have put up with her the way Warren did and I’m not sure a lot of women could put up with Warren, but they are definitely perfect for each other.
We love the practical jokes from Maybe Someday and love that it carried over in Maybe Not. Especially from Bridgette and getting that fun glimpse of her, but the joke that lead to their real feelings being revealed...poor Warren!! Is that based off of personal experience or someone you know?
Luckily, my family isn’t one to play many practical jokes. I think they all know I would win, so they don’t even try. For that reason, I have to make up all the jokes in the book. I don’t base very much of my writing on actual experience, and I do my best to not base characters off of people I know. I don’t want to make anyone mad! J Also, my life is pretty typical and boring and wouldn’t make for a very interesting book, so I really have to dig deep when I’m writing.
Ok, Colleen, we’re curious. Will Warren EVER find out the name of the porn Bridgette was in? Maybe Someday?
Haha. I don’t think so. I’m sure that was a moment in Bridgette’s life she wasn’t proud of, so I doubt she’d want the guy she’s dating to watch it. But knowing Warren and Bridgette, I’m sure they’ll make plenty of homemade films. ;)
Lastly, we know it was just a novella, but their story was just beginning. Please tell us we get more of Bridgette and Warren.
To me, the chase and the development of feelings is what I enjoy writing about the most. If you look back on all my books, it seems most of them end when the relationships begin. But I’ll never say never.  Colleen Hoover, the New York Times bestselling author of Maybe Someday, brilliantly brings to life the story of the wonderfully hilarious and charismatic Warren in a new novella, Maybe Not.
When Warren has the opportunity to live with a female roommate, he instantly agrees. It could be an exciting change.
Or maybe not.
Especially when that roommate is the cold and seemingly calculating Bridgette. Tensions run high and tempers flare as the two can hardly stand to be in the same room together. But Warren has a theory about Bridgette: anyone who can hate with that much passion should also have the capability to love with that much passion. And he wants to be the one to test this theory.
Will Bridgette find it in herself to warm her heart to Warren and finally learn to love?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
"She’s so confusing. She’s so frustrating. She’s so damn unpredictable. She’s nothing I’ve ever wanted in a girl, and absolutely everything I need.
- Maybe Not by Colleen Hoover  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...
"Nothing in life has ever felt so good, yet hurt so achingly bad."
- 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’m 34 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.
Stalk Colleen: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram
The Red & Wolfe Box Set is LIVE!
Meet Sarah “Red” Ryder & James Wolfe in this erotic fairytale box set. Read an excerpt, and enter to Win a Paperback Set of this fantastic series and swag pack! Excerpt "Red?" I push her gown down a little further and close my mouth over her breast, working her nipple with my lips. Caressing it with my tongue. I'm rewarded by a soft moan that goes straight to my cock. I need to be inside her, despite knowing I don't have the time.
I pull the covers down and slide my hand up her shin, then up her thigh. She's warm from sleep. Her skin feels like burnished velvet. My fingers brush her pussy and she lifts her hips. She wants it. I love the way she always wants it.
"Race."
I love the way she says my name: a mew.
"I'm going to fuck you with my fingers," I say, leaning near her face. "Then you'll go to sleep again."
A dreamy smile floats over her lips. She nods a little, pressing her head into the pillow.
I slide a finger into her. She's hot and tight, softer than silk. I can feel her clench as I pump into her. She's wet this morning. So fucking slick. I stroke in and out, painting her pussy, using my fingertip to smooth warm lines around her swollen clit.
I'm rewarded by her crying out.
"Say my name."
I still my hand. I can hear my blood rush in my ears. Race. Say Race.
Her hands grab at my wrist. "Race."
I allow myself a brief grin. It's undiluted satisfaction. She knows - or at least suspects - I'm James Wolfe, but she's still in my bed.
"Say 'Race, please.' I like to hear you beg." I push another finger into her. Her body quivers. "I like to feel you jump."
I stretch her with a third finger and slide my thumb over her clit. I'm moving slow. So slow.
"Race, oh God - yes. Please."
"That's right, sweetheart."
 When Sarah "Red" Ryder loses her job as an art critic for a Boston newspaper, she's brokenhearted. Worse than that? She's broke. Her boyfriend recently left her - for a tatted-up hottie with a dick - so she's stuck paying her hefty apartment rent alone. After two months unemployed, there's no money left. With no immediate family to turn to, Red reaches out to her estranged grandmother, a reclusive writer living on an island off the coast of Charleston. Several days later, Red receives $30,000 and an invitation to visit.
James Wolfe is not Red's grandmother. But he beckons her. Red has the ability to give him something he needs. He won't take "no" for an answer, and he doesn't mind screwing her over. He lost his conscience six years ago, when he was tried for the murder of his wife. Since then, life is about him - and the paintings he does under the mysterious pseudonym "W."
Wolfe needs the island to keep painting. To live his life away from prying eyes. To keep up the anonymity of "W."
Once he sees Red, he finds that he needs her, too. And Wolfe will have her. Any way he can.
Meet the author Ella James is a USA Today bestselling romance author. Her books have appeared on numerous bestseller lists, including the Movers & Shakers list and the Amazon Top 25 overall; two were listed among Amazon's Top 100 Bestselling Young Adult Ebooks in 2012. To find out more about Ella's projects and get dates on upcoming releases, you can stalk her on the following social media sites:
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
Subscribe to her newsletter HERE GIVEAWAY
Damned Sinner by Jami Denise is LIVE! We love the Jayne Series. It is an intriguingly sexy romance and Damned Sinner does not disappoint with Vince Donovan's story! Meet Vince in Kelsey in a HOT excerpt and enter to win a $10 Gift Card or Jayne Series Swag Pack! Excerpt: Meet Vince & Kelsie Her lips were glossy and covered with a thick sheen of red. I stared at her mouth while dragging a finger across them and let the paint follow a path down her chin, over her neck, and down her chest. The stain coated the light fabric of the white dress—spoiling it, just like I was spoiling her.
“You can see right through this,” I said roughly and dragged a finger underneath the neckline of the dress. Your little pink nipples are pushing right through it—aching and ready for someone to bite them.”
I let my teeth snap in her ear and then sucked the soft skin into my mouth. “A man like me sees a woman in a dress like this, and that’s what he wants. To touch the nipples you so willingly show off, to bite, pull, tug, and suck on them. He wants to pull those sweet little tits into his mouth, let his tongue run over them until your nipples are so hard they hurt.”
She was shaking, but I wasn’t going to stop there. As if to show her exactly what I was talking about, I moved the palm of my hand over her shoulder and down to her chest. I cupped one of her ripe tits in my hand, squeezing softly at first, and then wrapped my fist around it tightly and pulled.
She whimpered, and her knees shook. I was testing her, and so far she failed. As badly as she thought she wanted what I had to give, she had no fucking clue what it meant. She wasn’t ready.
I released her from my grasp and ran my hand over her clavicle, smearing the rotten red mess all over her chest and the top of the dress before moving it down over her belly.
“I could see the valley between your legs when you walked down the hallway,” I growled in her ear. “I could see your little pussy, the sweet V where I’d sink my cock. All I could think about was your long, skinny legs wrapped around my back while I fucked you right there in the hallway.”
She whined. “Please, oh God.” She grabbed the collar of my shirt and tried to pull me closer. “Fuck me, Vince.”
My cock jumped in reply, but I ignored her and went on with my ministrations. I reached the hem of her skirt, and with a swift rip, I yanked it up over her hip. There wasn’t much of it there in the first place, so it was no big task. That pissed me off even more. There were maybe three inches of lift and I could see her pussy.
Rubbing my coarse finger over her soft, silky mound, I stood back and watched her face. I was testing her, but I wasn’t going to push her. If she showed an ounce of regret, I was done. But I had to see where she stood once and for all.
Her eyes fluttered open as if she could read my thoughts. They were as wide as a newborn chick, scared and astonished, but surprised and exhilarated.
But definitely not ready to leave the nest.
I gave her pussy one more swipe of my finger and then a light slap. The shock showed clear in her eyes, and her mouth fell slack with pleasure. I could feel that she was into it, slick and warm and malleable in my hands.
“That’s right, baby,” I said gruffly. “I want to tear this pussy up. I want to make this pussy cry. You have no idea what I want to do to you, and if you don’t stop teasing me, you’re bound to find out.”
She bucked her hips stubbornly, and I narrowed my eyes. Folding my fingers, I gave her clit a hard flick with enough force to knock a dog on its ass.
“You’re not ready for this—or me,” I said, lowering my voice. “I want to defile you in so many ways, but that’s not what you want.”
“Yes,” she said. Her voice shook, and I could feel her heavy heartbeat through her dress.
“I care about what happens to you, Kelsey,” I said as evenly as I could. “That’s why I took you home—where you belonged. If you think walking around in Jayne’s clothes will do you any good, you’re completely wrong. What I want to do with your body is the same thing every other man out there wants. The only difference is, they won’t stop.”
“Don’t stop,” she said weakly, tears sprouting from her eyes. “I can handle anything from you. I love you, and you damn well know it.”
She dropped to her knees abruptly and raised her hands to undo my fly. I had a brief moment of euphoria. This was a regular fantasy of mine to have her on her knees with her mouth on me. It was too fresh and way too clear for me to think straight.
I jerked her up by her shoulders and pinned her back against the wall. “Stop!”
She snarled and fought against my hold on her. “If you don’t want me, why do you care if someone else does?”
I slammed her lightly against the door and leaned forward again so we were eye to eye. “I do want you—that’s not the problem. I want to fuck you. There’s a difference.”
 Vince Donovan has lost a lot in his life. He has lived life under a code of greed, lies and crime - never allowing anyone to get too close. After losing the empire he fought to build at the hands of a psychotic man in pursuit of revenge, Vince vows to rebuild what he once had. Along with his once protege and now partner, Jayne King, he sets out to create an empire that is based on beautiful women, sex and sin.
Kelsey Franklin is young, beautiful, sexy and should be forbidden. Kelsey is also the one woman that Vince has vowed never to have and yet is the one woman he wants and needs.
When love happens in the unlikeliest of circumstances Vince must ask himself - Is love fit for the damned and the sinner?
Teasers
(click on pic for full view) The Jayne Series Reading Order Meet the author Jami Denise is a romance writer from Southern California. While she waits for the next felon to come along and sweep her off her feet, she writes about swoony bad boys and sassy gals that make them squirm. She also loves cats, cars, cupcake flavored lip balm, and cherry limeade.
Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Website | Goodreads
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