Release Blitz: Grigori by Lauren Smith

Title: Grigori: A Royal Dragonshifter Romance
Series: Brothers of Ash and Fire
Author: Lauren Smith
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: October 3, 2017
He’s one
of the last of a powerful but vanishing bloodline …

Barinov is the eldest in an ancient line of dragon shifters and the guardian of
his family’s lands and fortune. Sworn to protect their history and magic, he
won’t rest until he neutralizes any threat to their existence. When he
discovers an ancient manuscript that exposes his family and their dragon
lineage has fallen into a mortal woman’s hands, he knows he must get the book
back by any means necessary. If that means seducing a nosy American woman with
an intoxicating scent, he is more than willing to carry her off to his palatial
home deep in the heart of Russia.
the one woman who could expose him to the world…

Haynes has never fit in. As an adopted child she grew up in a loving home but
never felt as though she belonged. Plagued by mysterious dreams she’s had of a
silver scaled beast ever since she was a little girl, she is convinced dragons
are real. While in Russia working on her PhD in mythology in order to escape
the ridicule from fellow professors, she unexpectedly crosses paths with the sexy
and dominating Grigori, and after just one night with the man whose eyes seem
to burn, she starts to change inside. Isolated in the Russian wilderness
Grigori calls home, Madelyn can’t help but fall under his sensual spell, yet
something deep inside her calls out that she can’t trust him. She has to show
the world dragons are real to salvage academic reputation, even if it means
costing her the heart of the dragon she’s falling in love with.

Purchase Links



woke slowly, the memories of parents she didn’t know and the life she never had
a chance to live fading to intangible presences at the back of her mind until
they were half-forgotten dreams. Her eyelids were heavy and her tongue felt
like sandpaper. She blinked slowly as the leaden feel of her limbs dissipated
and the fog in her head lightened. She sat up, a thick blanket of white fur
dropping down to her waist.
Fur? She stared around at the master
bedroom she was in.
“Oh my . .
.” The tall four-poster bed was made of dark black wood, a midnight blue
bedspread beneath her and a mountain of feather-soft pillows behind her. She
caught her reflection in a large mirror on a dresser table. Her face was ashen
and her lips pale as she sat in a mountain of expensive white furs. Her hair
was in wild disarray. She threaded her fingers through the messy mane and took
a few steadying breaths. Where was she? She struggled to remember anything
before she’d woken up here.
elevator, the man following her, and then Grigori . . . in her hotel room.
Oh my
God. I’ve been kidnapped
She curled
her arms around her chest for several seconds, just trying to calm her panicked
breathing. They had kidnapped her and brought her here. A thousand horrible
scenarios ran through her head of what they might to do with her . . . human
trafficking being the worst. The thought of it brought bile up to her throat
and she swallowed, gagging.
calm down
. Just
calm down . . .
Her body
froze, and her heart stopped for a painful second before it jolted back into a
steady beat. She summoned the scholarly side of herself to analyze her
surroundings again. She needed to figure out where she was and what they wanted
from her. Then she could plan her escape. Beside her on the table, was a
leather bound book she was all too familiar with. James’s Barrow’s journal.
Heart still
pounding, she pushed the furs down and slid off the bed. Her sock-covered feet
sank into a creamy white carpet. Madelyn grabbed the nearest bedpost, her
fingers gripping the spindle carved wood as she walked around the king-size
bed. She moved through the room and caught a teasing sense of something dark,
pine and masculine. A scent she’d recognized when she’d been standing close to
the man in the suit who’d looked just like Grigori from the journal. He
couldn’t be Grigori. She didn’t know his name, so she might as well call him
that until she figured out who he really was.
Grigori. He was everywhere in this room,
from the elegant furnishings to the clothes hanging in the closet. Madelyn
wasn’t sure how she knew it was his room aside from the lingering scent, but it
just felt like this was part of his world. She couldn’t explain it. She’d never
been in a man’s bedroom before and it was exciting and scary.
Why had he
brought her here? How had they knocked her out? And why did he want to know why
she’d been interested in James Barrow’s book? She had a thousand questions and
no answers. The smart thing would be to find her shoes and coat and get out of
here . . . no matter how intrigued she was with the mystery of Grigori Barinov.
She bent
down and looked in the closet and under the bed for her boots but couldn’t find
them. She had a sneaking suspicion he had hidden them to keep her from
escaping. She approached the beautifully carved bedroom door, gripping the
antique glass doorknob. Would it be locked? Was she a prisoner? She turned the
knob and it gave beneath the pressure.
The door
opened and she entered a small corridor, passing a lavish master bathroom with
a large tub and an oversized glass shower. Whoa. The next room she
entered opened into a huge library and an office. Then the apartment gave way
to a large living room with the kitchen at the back and a dining room. A
roaring fire in a square pit in the center of the living room sparkled over
crystal stones. A wing backed chair facing the fire creaked slightly and a
masculine hand extended past the arm of the chair as it swirled a glass of
Someone was
sitting there . . .
held her breath, listening to every sound from the antique grandfather clock in
the hall ticking away to the sounds of the man in the chair turning the pages
of his book. The hand holding the glass suddenly disappeared and the chair
creaked again as the occupant stood and turned to face her.
It was
Grigori. He looked too damn sexy, and intimidating, in that expensive suit. His
light hair fell across his blue eyes and he gazed at her with an unreadable
expression. Her heart was racing again, and blood roared in her ears as she
watched him, afraid of what he might do.
awake,” he noted. He moved slowly, setting the wine glass on the table beside
his chair.
“Why am I
here?” She was careful to keep a safe distance between them. They were facing
each other, like two animals measuring each other up before they decided to
fight or not. She wouldn’t hesitate to throw anything at him within her reach
to escape.
here because you checked out a book.”
His cryptic
reply made her bristle. The last thing she should be was argumentative, but she
suddenly wanted to be brave in front of him.
“Is that
against the law?” she asked, tilting her chin. She may have been scared out of
her mind, but she was not going to let him see it.
lips twitched. “No, but that book belongs to me.”
stiffened. “Then why did you leave it in a public library? You do understand
that’s how libraries work, right?” How she had the nerve to be snarky, she’d
never know.
He placed
one hand on the back of the leather chair, his finger slowly tapping a pattern
as though he was channeling all of his energy into the movement.
“A fiery
creature,” he murmured. “I like that.” This was uttered so softly she thought
she’d imagined it.
“So you
have the book back, you can let me go. I can leave, can’t I?” Her eyes
darted around the room, seeking out the front door. She inwardly groaned when
she realized the only way out was behind him. She’d have to get past brooding,
sexy, and scary Grigori.
“No, I’m
afraid you cannot leave. I have questions that require answers.” He took two
steps toward her. It took everything inside Madelyn not to retreat. She sensed
that any sign of weakness would trigger his animal instincts. He was an
aggressive predator who looked too intense to be in this lush apartment.
“Ask your
questions and then let me go.” She wanted to curl her arms around herself, but
instead planted hands on her hips.
arched one eyebrow, calmly removed his coat and laid it on the back of the
chair. His gray wool vest showed off his muscular chest and his tapered waist.
She licked her lips, nervous and all too aware of him and in way she shouldn’t
be given that he had kidnapped her. The image of his face in the journal, the
sketch dated 1821, haunted her. It couldn’t be the same man. That was
impossible. But the likeness . . .
“Who sent
you after the book?” Grigori asked as he rolled up the sleeves of his crisp
white shirt. It revealed muscular forearms, which were also sun-kissed. Her
skin prickled and she tried to swallow the lump of fear in her throat.
“No—no one
sent me. I came here on my own.”
nodded to himself, smiling a little as he walked over to the kitchen and opened
a cabinet.
“Would you
care for some wine? It’s a fine vintage.” He held up a bottle and a glass.
“Did you
seriously just offer me a drink? You’ve kidnapped me! For god knows what
reason. You’d better let me leave right now or—”
“Or what?”
Grigori was studying her through hooded eyes. “Ms. Haynes, I understand you are
frightened, but I’m not planning on harming you. We’re merely going to have a
discussion. Once I have learned all that I need, you shall be free to go.”
“You . . .
you promise?” She had no reason to trust him if he did make such a promise, but
part of her wanted to trust him. Part of her was still fixed on the man in the
journal, the one she felt she knew somehow from dreams within dreams.
“I promise.
I have no intention of hurting you. I merely needed a chance to speak to you
privately. On my honor.” He touched his freed hand to his chest with his
fingers curled into a fist. The motion was archaic, like something a knight
from the Middle Ages might do as he pledged himself to the lord of a castle.
weighed her options—not that she really had any. If she was trapped here she
wasn’t going to make a fool of herself trying to escape until she had a real
chance. She wasn’t sure if she believed him, but part of her wanted to. She’d
never felt so torn in her life. All logic and basic instincts were screaming to
run away from the man who kidnapped her, but there was a deeper part of her,
whispering to her to stay and trust. It was like she was staring at his picture
in the library all over again and she couldn’t look away, couldn’t leave.
If I
play along, it might help me buy some time to figure out a real plan of getting
out of here
waved the bottle in the air. “Well?”
“Sure. One
glass,” she finally replied. God, please don’t let me trusting him a little
be a huge mistake.
“Good.” He
walked over, setting a glass directly in front of her on the black granite
countertop. They were only inches apart now. His body so tall and intimidating
compared to hers. A nauseating pounding started in her head and her skin
tingled like it had in the elevator with that other man.
She closed
her eyes, steadying her suddenly shaky legs. How was it that this man could
rattle her? Was it because he’d kidnapped her and she was freaking out . . . or
was it something else? She’d been scared plenty of times, but it had never been
like this. This felt . . . different. She didn’t feel right, like her body was
trying to change inside. It didn’t make sense.
A hand, his
hand brushed a lock of her hair back from her face, leaving a sizzling
sensation behind wherever he touched her. As she opened her eyes, she saw him
lean close to her and inhale deeply.
“Are you
sniffing me?” she asked in a shaky whisper.
He exhaled
slowly, his full lips suddenly in a firm line. “You smell good. Too good,” he
growled softly. His hand reached up again, but it stopped inches from her. And
that was when she felt it. A faint breeze ruffled her hair, playing with the
strands. Grigori stayed motionless, his eyes narrowed. And just like that, the
unexplainable breeze vanished.
held her breath, hoping he would move first. He finally stepped back.
“Did Damien
MacQueen send you?” he asked as he turned and walked away from her, back to the
fridge. The distance growing between them seemed like a vast chasm. It should
have been a relief, but it wasn’t.
I am
going nuts. Seriously nuts
He opened
the door and stared at the contents before shutting it and frowning.
“Who is
Damien MacQueen?” she asked. The name was one she didn’t recognize. Grigori
stared at her for a long moment as though discerning whether she spoke the
“So the
brotherhood didn’t send you.” He placed his palms on the counter, leaning
forward slightly as he stared at her. The man had that intense gaze down to a
T. She was frozen in place, unable to look away from him as he watched her. She
tried to study him back, analyzing the way his jaw seemed to be cut from
Italian marble and his straight nose gave him an air of distinction. He was
gorgeous—for a kidnapper.
“You are a
professor?” Grigori asked.
“Yes, at
Ellwood University.” She lifted her glass of wine and tried to take a sip. The
wine was soft and dark on her tongue. A truly expensive wine without any bitter
aftertaste. The floral bouquet hit her taste buds and finished with a hint of
smoky wood.
“You like
to research?” he asked.
Weirdly, it
almost felt like she was on a date. These were like the usual questions: Who
are you? What do you do for a living? Do you like it? But this wasn’t a date.
It was the farthest thing from it.
“I do . .
.” she hesitated, trying to figure out what to do.
“And you
enjoy history?” he asked as he sipped his wine, his blue eyes still fixed on
her in a way that made her uncomfortable.
“Yes,” she
paused, trying to focus on answering him but also staying alert. “History is
steady. You know it’s always going to be the same, no matter how much you look
back on it. I like the predictability.”
“But you
fear the future,” he mused.
bristled. “I don’t fear the future, I just . . . I just don’t trust things to
happen the way I want them to sometimes.” She’d expected her visit to Russia to
be a safe one instead of getting kidnapped by someone like him.
“You have
nothing to fear in your future,” he promised again. “At least not from me.”
There it was, that solemnity in his gaze that almost seemed to beg her to trust
The hanging
lamps in the kitchen illuminated Grigori’s golden hair as it fell into his eyes
again. Madelyn had the desire to brush those gold strands away from his face
with her fingertips. And that was a crazy desire, because this man had
kidnapped her and she shouldn’t want to be touching him.
“God, I’ve
got a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome,” she muttered. She lifted her wine glass
to her lips and took another sip.
“Look, I
don’t know any Damien and I have no idea what the brotherhood is. You have your
book back so I see no reason for you to keep me here.”
He ignored
her as he pulled out his cell phone. “Are you hungry? I believe I’ll have dinner
brought up.”
“I’m not—”
her stomach rumbled treacherously and he had to hear it because he smirked. He
was smirking at her . . .
then we talk.” He dialed a number and spoke in rapid Russian to the person on
the other end of the line. She had thought it was a rough language before but
listening to him speak it sounded musical.
I really
need to take more Russian classes
. Her two semesters of Russian in graduate school didn’t help her
understand a word of what he’d just said.
“Will you
please tell me who you are?” she asked as he pocketed his phone in his
trousers. He retrieved his own empty glass to refill it with some wine. He
poured the burgundy liquid into the glass and she stared at it before looking
at him again.
“My name is
Grigori Barinov.”
Madelyn bit
her lip. He could not be the Grigori from James Barrow’s book. He had to
be a descendent of the other man, maybe a great-great-grandson.
“Okay . .
.” she whispered. “So you’re descended from the man in the book. The one in the
sketch?” She thought again about man’s face, the melancholy smile and the
almost indulgent gentleness. That man was a mystery, just as this man was, but
this Grigori’s features were harder, colder. She still had a strange longing to
meet the man in the sketch.
“No. I am
not descended from the man in the sketch. I am that man.”
laughed. “That’s funny.” She had plenty of people make fun of her over the
years for dragon research.
“I do not
jest, Ms. Haynes. You have stumbled into terra incognita. Do you know
what that means?”
swallowed thickly. “It means ‘territory unknown.’ I’ve seen it on old maps.”
good,” Grigori praised.
He lifted
his wine to his lips and took a slow sip, those blue eyes of his piercing her,
pinning her in place. “And do you know what else those maps said exactly?” The
clink of his glass on the counter was the only sound in the room because
neither of them dared to breathe.
And then
she said the words, the ones that had been stirring like a serpent in a dark
cave at the back of her mind since the moment she brushed her fingertips over
the sketch of his face in the book. Surely he couldn’t be suggesting what she’d
always been too afraid to even contemplate . . . The words hovered on the tip
of her tongue as she stared at him, hypnotized.
“Here there
be dragons,” she whispered.
The words
drifted between them and although she and Grigori stood six feet apart, that
space ceased to exist. His eyes were no longer blue, but a molten gold color,
the pupils sliding into reptilian slits. That was impossible . . .
“Here there
be dragons,” he echoed in a husky whisper, and Madelyn screamed.

Author Bio

Smith is an Oklahoma attorney by day, author by night who pens adventurous and
edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She knew
she was destined to be a romance writer when she attempted to re-write the
entire Titanic movie just to save
Jack from drowning. Connecting with readers by writing emotionally moving,
realistic and sexy romances no matter what time period is her passion. She’s
won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including: New England
Reader’s Choice Awards, Greater Detroit BookSeller’s Best Awards, and a
Semi-Finalist award for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award. To connect with
Lauren, visit her at
Author Links

Release Blitz: Ten Thousand Points of Light by Michelle Warren

Title: Ten Thousand Points of Light
Author: Michelle Warren
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 18, 2017

Five years
ago an unthinkable tragedy slashed Cait London’s life into two parts: before
she had amnesia and after. Determined to keep her past hidden and start
over, she moves to Chicago and plunges into a new job—all while keeping a
walled distance from everyone she meets.
It’s not
long before Cait reconsiders her solitary existence, and soon she’s stepping
beyond her boundaries and taking unthinkable chances, like crushing on her
impossibly sexy landlord, Evan Wade. He’s flirty, annoying, and with him living
in the same apartment building, she can’t stop thinking about him. If she can
sleep with him once, perhaps she can get him out of her system. The problem is,
Evan seems bulletproof to her advances. As the two develop a connection, it
becomes clear Cait may not succeed before her heart remembers what it feels
like to love.
Thousand Points of Light
is an immersive contemporary romance about the intensity of first
loves, the heartache of loss, and the power of forgiveness.

Purchase Links
Free in Kindle Unlimited
In my bathroom, a man kneels on the floor inspecting a gigantic hole of exposed pipes with the roaming beam of a flashlight. I fold my arms and lean into the doorframe.
When I left to meet Aggie everything was functioning. My gaze examines the small room, picking out details: my expensive towels soak up a deluge of water pooling on the tiled floor, there’s a large pile of powdery, crumbled drywall, and then there’s the issue of ass crack—in my face. It is toned and tight, but still, it’s connected to my landlord, Evan Wade.
“Pipes burst, leaking a damn waterfall into 5A,” he says, not bothering to glance my direction.
“Did you have to use my good towels?” I purse my lips.
“I thought about using your sexy lingerie.” He eyes the laundry basket of delicates now sitting on top of the sink. “But the fancy towels seemed like a better option.”
Thanks, appreciate it.” I sidestep him, snatch the basket, and carry it to my bedroom, hiding it in my closet. If he had scrutinized it closer, which he probably did, he would have found an embarrassing amount of granny panties and more sports bras than a Lululemon.
“How long before it’s fixed?” How long before I can get rid of you?
“A week,” his muffled voice answers.
“What?” I race back only to find his sharky grin. Two vertical dimples slice beneath a permanent, mocha-colored five o’clock shadow. They punctuate his bronzy sun-kissed skin, making his caramel eyes gleam with amused delight. My gaze intensifies.
“Just kidding. And you forgot this one.” Evan tosses me a ball of fabric. I catch it and glance at it. My mouth drops open. A smiling kitten stares back from the crotch of a pair of panties. Pussy panties. My cheek temperature flickers between sweaty hot and icy cold.
“Meow.” He chuckles.
I shove Aggie’s gag gift into the pocket of my running pants. “Funny.” I deadpan to appear unaffected.
Still, Evan seems thrilled for tormenting me. It’s something he’s excelled at since the day we met. It may be I’m still tipsy from drinking, but at recalling his history of irritating jokes, I pause. I cock my head and stare at him in confusion when a doubtful revelation hits me. Is this what Aggie was talking about? Is Evan flirting with me? Has he been flirting all this time?
I shake my head. Impossible.
“It’s too late to get the parts I need. So tomorrow.” He wipes his dirty hands on one of my towels, leaving a dark streak. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from scolding him.
“That’s not going to work. I have an appointment first thing in the morning and I need a shower.” I gesture to my sweaty T-shirt.
“No kidding, Cat, I can smell you from here.”
“It’s Cait, you ass.” I kick off my loose sneaker, tossing it with my toe in his direction. I aim to nail him in the head but he dodges away. The shoe ricochets off the wall, tumbling to the floor.
His grin widens. “I’m kidding, Miss London. You smell like roses, as always.”
“Seriously, what am I going to do?”
“Can’t you use Gusterson’s shower?” He quirks a surly lip because he already knows the answer—no. Mr. Gusterson lives across the hall, but I’ve never seen the man. I’m unsure anyone has.
For this comment, I kick my other shoe in his direction.
“Ow!” This one smacks his sizable bicep, protecting his handsome face. I suppress a triumphant smile.
Evan crouches and stands in one fluid motion of sinewy muscle. He meets my gaze, and then rakes a hand through his tousled chestnut-colored hair. “Fine. You don’t have to beg, Kitty Cat, you can use mine.” He puffs his chest and flashes his brilliant white grin.
Definitely flirting. Though I shouldn’t be surprised. How many times in the last year had I seen him at Mr. Moon’s Coffee House, sitting at a table and flirting with some girl? There were too many times and too many girls to count.
Evan takes his time sliding past, I think, purposely brushing the heat of his body near me. I pin myself against the wall, unwilling to allow our skin to touch. When will he grasp how annoying I find him?
“I’ll pass.” I latch my hands on my hips. This is me sending a clear message. I’m not flirting.
“Suit yourself.” Unswayed, he lumbers for the door.
“What about these tools?” I gesture to his mess.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” He turns, arms wide, palms skyward and strolls backward with a confident teeter. He’s hitting me with his smile again and those damn dimples, like they’ll make this situation better.
My teeth clench. If I had something else to throw at him I would. When he disappears, I remove my cell from my pocket and text Aggie. Before I do, I glance at my front door, which he left wide open. His footfalls descend the stairs to his apartment on the first floor.
Author Bio

If Michelle Warren had a spirit animal, it would be a tiger
in a pink tutu, riding a Harley through a ring of fire. She lives in
Chicago, dreams of California but hails from Baltimore. She has a slight
obsession with travel, sunshine, Double Chocolate Milano cookies and writing
novels. She didn’t travel the road to writer immediately. She spent over a
decade as professional illustrator and designer. Her artistic creativity
combined with her love of science fiction, paranormal and fantasy led her to
write her first novel. 
Author Links

Release Blitz: With Love by Liz Lovelock

Title: With Love
Series: Letters in Blood #2
Author: Liz Lovelock
Genre: Suspense/Thriller
Release Date: October 18, 2017

Dear Captor,

Do you find pleasure in my tortured screams?
My darkened cell is my own living nightmare.
Why do you continue to play this game? Why don’t you just kill me?
You’ve almost broken me all over again—but I’ve held firm. I’ve pushed through
the pain you’ve inflicted. And now I’m seeing a side of you I never knew could
exist. A side I connect with. A side I could grow to like.
Your touch on my skin . . . it ignites a fire within.
Only time will tell what will come of it.

With love,

Purchase Links


Also Available


Coming Soon
Releasing November 15, 2017

Author Bio
Liz is from
bright and sunny Queensland, Australia. She has always been a reader. When she
was little, she’d be up late reading Garfield
and Asterix comic books and also Footrot Flats. When Liz hit high school,
they gave her Tomorrow When the War Began
by John Marsden, and from there her love of books continued to grow.
Liz keeps a
notebook and pen beside her bed for when those late-night ideas pop into her
head, plus she’s a stationery addict and loves pens, notebooks, and, well,
anything stationery.
Author Links

Release Blitz: LIVE YOUR DREAM (Redfall Dream Series #2) by B.B. Miller & Leslie Carson


Title: Live Your Dream (Redfall Dream Series #2)

Authors: B.B. Miller & Leslie Carson

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: October 18, 2017


Bass player for acclaimed rock band, Redfall, Matt Logan excels at connecting intricate harmonies to a distinctive groove. His connections off-stage are just as legendary…and scores of women line up to be next.

However, all the women and accolades are just a way of silencing the dangerous voices of his past. Voices he has trouble putting behind him.

When he collides with the spirited Tessa Baker, an up-and-coming executive determined to prove her worth to her colleagues, Matt is shocked to discover that there may be a better way of drowning out the noise.

Will Matt give in to the fears that haunt him, or will he and Tessa dare to live their own dream?


Purchase your copy today!

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA



Book Trailer


More in the series!

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Smashwords

About B.B. Miller & Leslie Carson

Once upon a time, a Canadian vegetarian and an American carnivore bonded over a shared love of shoes, wine, and good storytelling. Leslie Carson lives in Ottawa, Canada, with her busy family and seems to spend more time at the hockey rink than outside of it. From her home near Portland, Oregon, B.B. Miller spends her days with family and friends in search of the perfect pear martini.
Their first novel in a four part series – Rock the Dream – is coming soon.

Tempting Daddy’s Boss by Madison Faye


Title: Tempting Daddy’s Boss
Series: Innocence Claimed Series
Author: Madison Faye
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: White Rabbit Creative
Photo: Wander Aguiar
Release Date: October 16, 2017
I’m keeping her all to myself, whether she knows it or
An angel like little
Lyra Worthington has no business being anywhere near a cold, calculating
monster like me.
But she’s been mine since
the second she poured herself into my world. And now, I’m never letting
her go.
I know she’s
I know she’s too
young for me, and too innocent, and too untouched. But I bet
she tastes like heaven and feels like sin, and tonight, I plan on finding out
how right I am.
She’s tempting me –
enticing me. She’s provoking me like a naughty little brat
looking for trouble. And believe when I say, she’s going to find it with
I’ll call her angel.
She’ll call me daddy.
I’m not – not really,
of course. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to protect her, and take care of
her, and keep her safe from the whole damn world.
I play for keeps, I
take what’s mine, and I keep what I take. And tonight, I’m taking her.
Super sweet, so filthy you’ll need a bath, and
over-the-top wrong. But, if you’re looking for something wildly dirty, not
really grounded in reality, and safe, this one’s for you!
Utterly obsessed alpha hero, sassy, untouched heroine, and insta-love, smut,
and sugary-sweetness galore. HEA with NO CHEATING!


Also Available
99c for a limited time
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Madison Faye is the dirty alter ego of the very wholesome,
very normal suburban housewife behind the stories. While she might be a wife,
mom, and PTA organizer on the outside, there’s nothing but hot, steamy, and
raunchy fantasies brewing right beneath the surface!
Tired of keeping them hidden inside or only having them come out in the
bedroom, they’re all here in the form of some wickedly hot stories.
Single-minded alpha hero, sinfully taboo relationships, and wildly over-the-top
scenarios. If you love it extra dirty, extra hot, and extra naughty, this is
the place for you! (Just don’t tell the other PTA members you saw her here…)Join the mailing list for author updates, special prices, and a **FREE
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Release Launch: ENCHANTED by Daisy Prescott

Today we are celebrating the release of ENCHANTED by Daisy Prescott.

This is the third title in the Bewitched novella series.

These short stories are the perfect addition to your TBR-pile, with Halloween right around the corner!

You can get the previous novellas in the series below.

Bewitched, the first book in the series, is currently FREE for a very limited time!

Follow Daisy’s newsletter for exclusive news and giveaways!


Enchanted by Daisy Prescott
(Bewitched, #3)

Now Live!



True love. An old enemy. It begins where it ends.

Two months ago, I didn’t believe in magic.

Sure, I’d cast a love spell involving glitter and peppercorns, but come on … even I didn’t think some pink pepper could make a man fall in love with me.

How quickly I’ve changed.

Seeing is believing, and watching Andrew light a fire with only his hands definitely changed my mind.

My former crush, the brooding, beautiful Andrew Wildes, is now my boyfriend.



Each title has a brand-new look!

Bewitched (Bewitched, #1)


SPELLBOUND (Bewitched, #2)

Get it for 99¢ or read on KindleUnlimited




new daisy prescott full size

USA Today Bestselling Author Daisy Prescott writes romantic comedies with heart.

Her Modern Love Stories feature characters in their thirties and forties finding and rediscovering love in unexpected and humorous ways. Her Wingmen books star regular guys who often have beards, drive trucks, and love deeply once they fall. Look for her new Rom Com series, Love with Altitude, in 2017.

Born and raised in San Diego, Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog, and an indeterminate number of imaginary house goats. When not writing about herself in the third person, Daisy can be found traveling, gardening, baking, or lost in a good book.

To learn more about Daisy and her writing, sign up for her mailing list here (copy and paste this link): Send her an email at: daisyauthor AT gmail DOT com Or chat with her on Twitter (@daisy_prescott) and Facebook: /daisyprescottauthorpage, and follow her on Instagram: /daisyprescott



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RELEASE BLITZ: Riske and Revenge by Natalie E. Wrye



Title: Riske and Revenge
Series: The Revenge Series
Author: Natalie E. Wrye
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 17, 2017




Love is the
strongest emotion in the world…next to hate.
I knew hate. Had known it since I was seventeen.
For me, it was love turned on its head, a product of hurt and fear—twisted,
tied up…and placed on the sculpted shoulders of Ethan Riske.
Dayton, Tennessee.
Home to the best cow-tipping in the world, the
biggest hot dogs, and the lousiest sex.
Or so I’d heard…
They were right about the first two. Ethan
Riske proved them wrong about the third and at seventeen, he and I spent a
summer under the stars, squeezing our way out of trouble, sweating and panting
among the haystacks.
Until he left.
Nine years later, when a huge publishing house
tries to buy my small press, I storm into the office of the CEO to find him.
Same cocky grin. Different name.
And suddenly all I can think about is exacting
revenge on Ethan Riske for breaking his contract…and my heart.
But there’s someone who wants revenge even
more than I do. As I begin to fall for the new Ethan, will the sins of the old
one come back to haunt us?


Purchase Links
99c for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AUFree in Kindle Unlimited


“I hope you taste as good as you smell.”
The sound drifted through the air. A slow, sensuous melody
floated with it, and as both made their way through the room, the beat of the
song and the quiet statement I just heard rattled the bourbon in my hand,
making the ice cubes shake.
Or maybe I was the one shaking.
I couldn’t help it. 
Griff was poking a hole in my ribs with his elbow, and as
the lips that had just whispered in my ear withdrew, I could see the look on my
“best man’s” face. He was essentially salivating, his tongue practically
swinging as he took in the vision of the woman who was speaking in my ear… and
laying a seductive path in my open lap.
She stood, her long legs stretching, her bare torso twisting
as she rolled the shape of an “S” in the air with her body, swaying seductively
to the music. She was toned… that was obvious. A tight package with tits too
big to be real, the buxom blonde in front of me was the object of every man’s
wet-dream, star of every cock-swinger’s fantasy…
Except mine.
But she was doing her best. Clad in a piece of cloth that
barely covered her clearly cleanly-waxed pussy, she ground her
pretty ass two inches from my face while every other man in the room fought the
urge to put their fingers all over her. My best friend, included. He nudged my
side for the ninetieth time.
“Fuck me, man,” he slurred. “If she was doing that to me,
I’d be two seconds from putting my finger in her ass.” He smirked widely and
“Good thing you aren’t me,” I shot back quietly, leaning
over to look into his face. “That’d be a felony, you crazy ass.” I finally
smiled. “And the last time I checked you didn’t fuck strippers because ‘and I
quote…  ‘Who knows how many other items have been in those goddamned
I threw Griff’s own words back at him with a silent grin.
“Doesn’t matter,” he declared, staring at the stripper in
front of me for the thousandth time. “For her?” He swallowed another mouthful
of scotch. “I’d make an exception.”
I glared at the beautiful blonde again. Because Griff was
right. The exotic dancer… She might have been one of the best looking I’d ever
seen. Maybe the best. She was tall, long-legged. Gorgeous… in
the porn star sense, of course, with a wide, luscious mouth made for licking
and sucking in only the most erotic of ways.
She licked her lips at me as if she wanted to make good on
the promise she’d just whispered, and I had no doubt when she looked at me, her
brown doe-like eyes wide, that—if she could, she would devour me until nothing
was left. Until she drained every drop.
Unfortunately, for her, I wasn’t interested.
She tried to drag me to my feet, her tiny fingers wrapping
around my own, pulling as she walked backwards in the direction of the edge of
the room. The overhead maroon lights illuminating the space in our black-curtain
closed boudoir made her look as naughty as every word dripping from her
blood-red mouth, and Bambi the Bimbo was putting on her best pout to entice me
into joining her towards whatever dirty fun lay in the dark room beyond this
All of the men—friend and foe—whooped as I slowly dragged
myself to my feet, stumbling and fumbling over the discarded decorations that
littered the floor. Streamers and “Congratulations” ribbons ran the length of
the room, taking up space between the cloth-covered tables, and I staggered
past them, barely holding onto my Bourbon as I followed stolidly behind the
too-excited dancer who nearly bounced on her platform-covered toes.
With the push of another curtain, we fell into another room,
and I let my body flounce on the dark-colored couches beyond it, slumping into
the padded cushions. I took a healthy swig of my drink and sank my fingers into
the seat beneath, wondering how many stains these comfortable sofas had really seen.
The drunker I got, the more it didn’t matter. Ignorance
truly was bliss.
And so was the sensation making its way down my crotch—a
gentle rubbing that circled the length of my cock through the fabric of my suit
pants. From the tip to the very base. I groaned, closing my eyes as I saw a
vision in my mind. A vision too good to be true. 
A vision almost ten years old.
Waves of dark hair fell to a waist too tiny to be anything
but touched. Shiny and soft, the beautiful brown mane swept across my chest,
against my shirt, as two eyes, a crystal-clear blue, peeked from beneath the
strands, as round and as large as saucers. In my mind, they met mine, saying
things that couldn’t be vocalized, voicing words that need not be said.
They seduced in the most innocent of ways, waylaying me,
pulling at a possessiveness in me I didn’t know existed. The blue eyes smiled.
The smile beneath them was even better—wicked, as it dipped to my abdomen and
pressed there, making me ache, causing my cock to strain against the
inconvenient zipper located there.
How many times had I imagined those lips doing exactly that?
That tongue licking out beneath those straight white teeth to lap at my skin,
the edge of her mouth nipping at the most sensitive parts of me? It was
torture—letting her tease me, taking me to the brink and back again as she
swept that sheet of auburn locks over my body as she bent to her knees. I
sucked in a breath soaked in desire as I waited for her to place her mouth
where it mattered most.
And then it stopped. The teasing. She stopped. 
And before I knew it, she was pulling—no, ripping—at my
pants. The top button popped, and suddenly my cock was between her hands, her
lips. She sank her mouth around it with a sigh, sucking with delight. The
sexiest slurp ever made to man escaped from between her teeth, and I nearly
lost it, grinding my own teeth as I gripped the back of her head, my eyelids
squeezing tight enough to ache.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I muttered. Over and over and over
It was fucking amazing. Something so simple—someone so
simple, sweet and secretly naughty could bring a stubborn fucker like me—CEO
and all—to his Giorgio Armani-covered knees.
I came… with my cock in her mouth and her name on my mind. I
leaned back even further, letting my head fall into the cushions.
“Fuck, Kat…” I mumbled, feeling way too fucked up to move,
the liquor coursing through my veins as I came down from my high, my fingers
reaching out to touch her once more.
But she backed away.
“Kat?” she said, rising to her feet. “Who the fuck is Kat?”
I opened my eyes, staring at the figure fumbling around in
front of me. It was the blonde vixen—the stripper. Standing on shaky legs, she
wobbled between my legs, locking me with a stare, her eyes hard and unblinking.
She placed her hands on her tiny hips.
“Who the hell is Kat?”
As if she was outraged. As if she had any right to question
whatever the fuck I was doing anyway. I ignored her with a shrug, stowing my
dick back in my pants with a loud zip! I finished my drink and
sat it down.
“Ohhhh… I get it,” the blonde blower hissed. “She must be
your fiancé. Well… I guarantee you that she’s never made you come like that.
That was epic, baby,” she sighed, trying to straddle me. Her pussy was peeking
completely out of her barely-there panties this time, and she tried to rub it
across me, sliding her pink slit across the front of my pants with a slow
I almost pushed her off. I stood.
“There is no fiancee,” I rumbled.
“But I thought…”
“My friends,” I interrupted, “thought it’d be funny to
celebrate my new position. They said it was fitting… seeing as how I’m now
married to my job. This isn’t a real bachelor party. And that
wasn’t a real blow-job…”
She raised an eyebrow. “Certainly felt real
to me.”
I pulled out my wallet, taking out a couple hundred dollar
bills and putting them in the palm of her hand. I folded her fingers around
them, looking into her eyes.
“Can’t be real… Not when you’re thinking about someone else
the entire time.”
I turned just as the fair-haired, breathing blow-up doll
gaped. I pulled the black curtain aside, exiting, attempting to avoid the
curious gaze of every onlooking employee that came to the party to usher me
into my new executive role.
My smile was weak, as I tried to shake off what just
happened to me in the other room… and who I was imagining it happening with. Somehow,
it was the brunette in my head, and not the blonde on my lap, that felt as if
she were still on my skin.
I was in so much fucking trouble.


Author Bio
Natalie Wrye is a tequila connoisseur, Game of Thrones
addict and author best known for writing page-turning Contemporary Romance and
Romantic Suspense.
A fan of the beautifully polarizing anti-hero, she crafts sexy stories about
hard-bodied, complex men and the strong-willed women who crave them.

She loves it when people get weird with her on Facebook, or

Author Links