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Promo: Unscripted by Samantha Long

Unscripted
by Samantha Long
Contemporary Romance

My name is Isla Chase. I’m finally living my dream
of working in Seattle as an assistant editor under one of the top names in the
business. Finally out from the watchful eyes of those waiting for me to end up
like my parents in the hick town where I grew up, I’m beyond ready to spread my
wings.

On my first major job, I meet Decker Stevens, who’s reality-show royalty. And for some reason, he’s set his sights on me. Considering his reputation, getting involved with Decker would only be setting myself up for heartbreak and the failure everyone’s expected of me all my life.
But I find my emotions growing stronger for Decker as I learn the real reasons that he’s moved himself out of the spotlight. No man should be as hot and as sinfully sweet as this one is.
Just as I’m close to giving in and opening myself up in a relationship with Decker, an unspeakable betrayal occurs, rocking both our worlds.
Can we hold onto each other through the madness that follows or will it destroy us?
I hesitated a second, then placed my hand in Decker’s. His palm was warm and
large, and his fingers curled around mine. A frisson of awareness shot through
me. As he pulled me toward the private staircase, I could feel a number of
gazes on our backs. Everyone at the table had to wonder why he’d asked to show
me something. Hell, I wondered.
He proceeded to guide me down the stairs. I took the time to stare at the cut of
his suit and broad shoulders as a whiff of his cologne hit me. There was
something about that scent. He hadn’t let go of my hand, but I wasn’t sure if
it was because he was making sure I didn’t tumble down the stairs or if it was
because he wanted to hold it. Either way, we were supposed to be friends. This
muddied the water a bit.
Before we entered the kitchen, Decker took a right. I tried to stop, but he glanced
over his shoulder, face impatient, and I allowed him to drag me to a different
area. He opened a door, pulled me in, and shut it behind us.
We stood in his office. I could tell by the picture of his mom and sister on the
desk, by the scent of his cologne in the air, by the plaques on the wall
bearing his name. I was confused as to why he would bring me in here.
He finally let go of my hand, and I felt a little lost as I stood near the door.
He ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his slick look. “Are you and
Adam dating?”
I blinked, surprise rippling through me. “No, and even if we were, what
would it matter? You and I are just friends.”
Decker’s lips twisted and his hands fell to his sides. “Are we? You’ve been stiff
around me this evening.”
“I haven’t. There’s just been a lot going on.”
He stepped closer. My pulse picked up. “The entire time I greeted people, all
I could think about was you. That you were up on the balcony, next to some guy,
and he was getting to talk to you. I wanted to be up there.”
My mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out.
When he stepped closer again, I moved toward the door. My back hit it, the cold
seeping through my dress.
“I’m not normally a jealous person. I don’t usually care if a girl is talking to
some guy. But I care when you do and I don’t understand it.” His tortured
gaze held mine.
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Are you planning on dating him?”
“Maybe.”
I placed my palms against the door, bracing for something but I wasn’t sure
what.
“No.”
“No?”
My brows rose. “I can date anyone I want to—”
His lips claimed mine, effectively silencing me.
Somehow I’d been waiting on this without knowing it.
Teasers

Author Bio.jpg
A multitasking mom of four
from Alabama, Samantha Long has been writing since the first grade. Samantha’s
first story consisted of a one-paged fantasy biopic entitled, “If I Was An
Indian”. Samantha’s racy writing tastes were evident at a young age, with
the plot consisting of a warrior husband, elite living quarters, and an affair
with the Chief. When she’s not writing, doing laundry, or changing diapers, you
can find Samantha in front of her DVR catching up on episodes of Supernatural and
Castle or enjoying sweet tea with a movie or good book. Samantha’s writings are
inspired by the works of Nora Roberts, Lauren Kate, Kresley Cole, and Gena
Showalter, to name a few.

Promo: Kennedy Ryan’s “Bruise,” an original piece written for her latest release Grip

Bruise

Kennedy Ryan shares a special post on the inspiration behind “Bruise,” the original piece written for her latest release Grip.

(Scroll to the end for the full poem & a signed paperback giveaway.)

Am I all of your fears, wrapped in black skin?”

The cursor flashed a warning at the end of the line I’d just typed. Read on its own, the words seared the page, an incendiary challenge. A jagged line in the sand that could shove half my readers to one side, and half to the other. I needed to be careful. I wanted to be fearless. I had to be honest.

The hero of Grip, my latest release, Marlon James (Grip to his fans), is a rising hip-hop star, but he’s more than that. He’s a lyricist and a poet. He’s a black man, concerned about black men vulnerable to cops who should be protecting them. He admires officers who run toward danger when most of us run away.

He wonders what he can do to bridge the gap between the two.

I took several risks writing Grip, confronting, in the context of a love story, prejudices that are often blatant, but sometimes remain hidden even from ourselves. No issue weighed heavier on my mind than that of black v. blue. In the story, Grip gets stopped DWB. Driving While Black, for those unfamiliar. Probably somewhere else in mainstream romance, readers have sat behind the wheel in a black hero’s perspective, glanced in the rearview mirror, seen those blue lights flashing, and wrestled with the fear, frustration and anger born from years of being stopped for no reason…but I haven’t read it. And as I wrote it, I remembered my own husband’s accounts of being stopped most of his life; of him and his friends lying on their stomachs on the ground while their cars were searched. I recalled the first-hand accounts I’d read of black and Hispanic men, even in the last few months in LA, Grip’s hometown, stopped and searched so much more than their counterparts. But I also thought of my friend’s husband, a good cop, a good man who faced down fear every day to protect people like me. Of her anxiety when tragedy strikes, when travesties happen. Incidents that I watch on television from the safety of my couch while her husband wades knee-deep into danger.

I wanted to tell both sides of this story. I didn’t want to debate or persuade. I wanted readers to listen; to hear the other perspective. To consider. To understand. To empathize. These are the building blocks of resolution. Our country is more divided than we’ve been in a long time, and many of those divisions still, sadly still, fall along the lines of race. I don’t know how we resolve anything in this current climate. I don’t think we do unless we exchange perspectives; manage to communicate with one another in lower decibels, in reasonable thoughts, in something besides shouty caps on Facebook and Twitter.

In Flow, the prequel to Grip, Bristol, the heroine says, “...before we say our words, they’re ammunition. After we’ve said them, they’re smoking bullets. There seems to be no middle ground and too little common ground for dialogue to be productive. We just tiptoe around things, afraid we’ll offend or look ignorant, be misunderstood. Honesty is a risk few are willing to take.”

And yet it requires honesty, and giving each other grace to speak with candor and respect, even if sometimes ineloquently. It requires that we step into the other’s shoes. Usually, we are not all right or all wrong. We are more nuanced than that; the issues more complex than black and white.

Or in this case, black and blue.

This story models that, I hope. In my small corner of the world, with the only tools at my disposal, my pen and my voice, I hope I demonstrated that. I hope someone on one side of that jagged line in the sand understood the person across from them a little better after reading GRIP. This wasn’t about my personal outrage; my indignation as I watched black men gunned down this summer during traffic stops. It wasn’t about my horrified grief as I watched cops in Dallas ambushed, killed. It wasn’t just about either, and it was completely about both. One of my favorite communicators says sometimes we choose between making a point and making a difference. I really hope, in some small way, the words to “Bruise,” the original piece I co-wrote with a spoken word artist for this book, volley right past just making a point, and manage to make a small difference, even if the only difference is that one person chooses to listen and tries to understand. There are so many other things I could say; so many statistics I could cite to sway you to one side or the other. But instead, I’ll let “Bruise” speak for itself.

And for those on both sides of that jagged line in the sand.

For more on the role of race in Grip, check out Mara White’s piece in The Huffington Post. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/58b96fd5e4b0fa65b844b200

Signed paperbacks of GRIP & FLOW, the prequel, are up for grabs on Kennedy’s Facebook page!

ENTER HERE:

http://bit.ly/2nH5vaM

“BRUISE”

Copyright (c) Kennedy Ryan, 2017

Am I all of your fears, wrapped in black skin,

Driving something foreign, windows with black tint

Handcuffed on the side of the road, second home for black men

Like we don’t have a home that we trying to get back to when

PoPo pulls me over with no infractions,

Under the speed limit, seat belt even fastened,

Turned on Rosecrans when two cruisers collapsed in

Barking orders, yeah, this that Cali harassment

Guns drawn, neighbors looking from front lawns and windows

I know cops got it hard, don’t wanna make a wife a widow

But they act like I ain’t paying taxes, like your boy ain’t a citizen

They think I’m riding filthy, like I’m guilty pleading innocence.

They say it’s ‘Protect & Serve’, but check my word

Sunny skies, ghetto birds overhead stress your nerves,

They say if you ain’t doin’ wrong, you got nothin’ to fear,

But the people sayin’ that, they can’t be livin’ here . . .

We all BRUISE,

It’s that black and blue

A dream deferred,

Nightmare come true

In another man’s shoes,

Walk a mile or two

Might learn a couple things

I’m no different than you!

You call for the good guys when you meet the bad men,

I’m wearing a blue shield and I still feel the reactions

When I patrol the block, I can sense dissatisfaction

There’s distrust, resentment in every interaction,

Whether the beat cop, lieutenant, sergeant or the captain

We roll our sleeves up and we dig our hands in

I joined the force in order to make a difference,

Swore to uphold the law, protect men, women and children,

These life and death situations, we make split-second decisions

All for low pay, budget cutbacks and restrictions

We’re ambushed in Dallas, now where’s all the chatter

Gunned down in Baton Rouge, don’t blue lives need to matter?

Not just a job—it’s a calling, a vocation,

My wife’s up late pacin’, for my safety—she’s praying,

And yet you call me racist? You wanna trap me with your phone?

I’m just a man with a badge trying my best to make it home.

We all BRUISE,

It’s that black and blue

A dream deferred,

Nightmare come true

In another man’s shoes,

Walk a mile or two

Might learn a couple things

I’m no different than you!

Buy GRIP

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2lKfZVt

Amazon Universal: myBook.to/GetAGrip

Free in KU!

Join the Discussion Group once you’re done: http://bit.ly/2m8xEqf

Check out the TEESPRING Campaign: https://teespring.com/GetGripped

Listen to the playlist on iTunes: http://apple.co/2lWI9ur

Listen to the playlist on Spotify: http://bit.ly/2lWrHdS

 

“The story reads like a movie . . powerful and intoxicating … and sinfully sexy. GRIP has everything—dynamic characters, soulful plot, and a lesson at the end that will change the way you look at life. One of my favorite reads this year. Maybe ever. 5 massive, gripping stars from me!” Adriana Lock, USA Today Bestselling Author

 

About GRIP:

Resisting an irresistible force wears you down and turns you out.

I know.

I’ve been doing it for years.

I may not have a musical gift of my own, but I’ve got a nose for talent and an eye for the extraordinary.

And Marlon James – Grip to his fans – is nothing short of extraordinary.

Years ago, we strung together a few magical nights, but I keep those memories in a locked drawer and I’ve thrown away the key.

All that’s left is friendship and work.

He’s on the verge of unimaginable fame, all his dreams poised to come true.

I manage his career, but I can’t seem to manage my heart.

It’s wild, reckless, disobedient.

And it remembers all the things I want to forget.

Download Flow, the prequel to GRIP, TOTALLY FREE!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2lAhSSC

Read on WATTPAD: http://w.tt/2kUo8Yk

About FLOW:

In 8 years, Marlon James will be one of the brightest rising stars in the music industry.

Bristol Gray will be his tough, no-nonsense manager.

But when they first meet, she’s a college student finding her way in the world,

and he’s an artist determined to make his way in it.

From completely different worlds,

all the things that should separate them only draw them closer.

It’s a beautiful beginning, but where will the story end?

 

FLOW is the prequel chronicling the week of magical days and nights that will haunt Grip & Bristol for years to come.

Add STILL (Grip #2) to your TBR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34642932-still

 

About the Author:

Kennedy loves to write about herself in third person. She loves Diet Coke…though she’s always trying to quit. She adores her husband…who she’ll never quit. She loves her son, who is the most special boy on the planet. And she’s devoted to supporting and serving families living with Autism.

And she writes love stories!

Facebook: http://facebook.com/KennedyRyanAuthor

Book Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/681604768593989/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kennedy-ryan

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2jTjDuU

Twitter: @Kennedyrwrites

Instagram: @kennedyryan1

Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/author/show/7429243.Kennedy_Ryan

Google +: http://plus.google.com/u/0/+KennedyRyanAuthor/posts

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kennedyryan/

Promo: Undercover by Avery Aster

 

Book Title: Undercover
Author: Avery Aster
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance with M/M/F Menage
Release Date: March 7, 2017
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Goodreads

book blurb

Note: Undercover is part one in New York Times bestselling author Avery Aster’s new m/f erotic romance serial featuring Jagger and Poppy, which takes place in The Manhattanites’ world. Each volume ends on a cliffy and reflects our current political climate of in-your-face TV reporters, cyber hacking, Russian hysteria, and features BDSM, kinky role-play, ménage à trois, and of course very hung, inked-up, dominant men who just want to be loved by their smart alpha females. When you’re done, be sure to grab Unless, the second installment.

Talk show host Poppy White thought she’d seen it all while working in journalism, but when her boyfriend, Mikhail Chekhov, supposedly dies in an explosion and she goes to identify the body, the man on the table at the morgue isn’t as endowed as her lover. Nope. There’s no way that needle dick is his. But if Mikhail isn’t dead, then where is he?

Bisexual, dominant, and rich, Jagger Chabon is Mikhail’s hung, inked-up playboy of a lover on the down low. He knows why Mikhail is on the run and is desperate to find him before the CIA closes in to make their arrest. If only he could get rid of this pesky reporter who keeps sticking her perky breasts in his face.

excerpt

“What d-did you j-just say?” she stutters. For probably the first time in her life, the woman of poise and perfect beauty capable of interviewing famous celebrities and world dignitaries isn’t able to speak smoothly.

Stunned, I reach for her shaking hand to try and comfort, reassure. “I’m sorry, Poppy.”

“You’re sorry. For what? His death?” She withdraws her hand from mine and wipes her palm on her short skirt as if I have the bubonic plague. “Or the fact that we both fucked the same guy?” Nearly screaming, obscenities continue flying out of her little mouth. “I cannot believe I didn’t see this shit coming. I swear, I’m either blind or oblivious. You know, Mikhail and I had good sex. Hot sex. Mind-blowing sex. Probably the best sex of my entire life.”

Meh. I think I’m much better in the sack than Mikhail. He sorta just lies there like a lazy bottom and takes it. Good head, yes. But that’s about it.

I offer nothing. I don’t want to upset her any further.

“Did you know I was also dating him?” she asks in a shaky, throaty voice, possibly embarrassed by her outburst. I’ve seen her have fits before, like the time she threw a chair at a guest on her show for refusing to answer her million-dollar question, but nothing like this.

Poppy White is losing her damn mind. But can I blame her? I try to put myself in her shoes, imagine what it would feel like to be in love with a woman who was also in love with Poppy.

Come to think of it, I’d be turned on. I won’t lie. Imagining Poppy in my bed with another woman makes my dick go hard, and for a split second I forget that we’re at the morgue.

She snaps her fingers in my face as if I’m some sort of dog. “Hello! You there? I asked you a question. Did you know?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I manage to shake my head. When I came into the room I felt sadness for the death of my lover. Now I’m somewhat uncomfortable with my coworker knowing that I engaged in a relationship with another man. Shit. This is all a bit much.

“Are you gay?” she says loudly.

“Stop that.” I step forward to shush her.

“Don’t you dare touch me.” She steps back, leaning against the table. The hurt, the pain in her eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. She’s devastated. Destroyed.

“Mikhail is the only man I’ve ever been with. We met about six months ago and just hit it off.”

Hit it off? More like got each other off!”

“Sorry you couldn’t satisfy him,” I blurt the harsh words without thinking.

Poppy strikes my face with her right hand so hard that her body jerks toward me. Embracing the sting on my cheek, I push her back before she can take another swing. She hits the table, then glares at me with an almost insane look on her face.

“There is no way Mikhail loved you.” She tries to hit me again, this time lunging toward me, taking me down to the cold marble floor.

Disoriented and now on my back, I lie glaring up at her. “Happy now?”

She straddles me. “You’re a liar. There is no freakin’ way that man, a Russian diplomat with a law degree from Harvard who has one of the highest IQs on Earth, cared for you the way he cared about me. Mikhail wasn’t queer.” Pressing her hands against my chest like she’s going to ride me into the sunset, she adjusts her hips. Under normal circumstances I would slide my hands under her skirt and start fucking her until she came over and over again. But right now my body is pressed against the floor, we’re at the local morgue, and I’ve just admitted to my coworker, a woman I’ve been crushing on for years, that I’ve been coincidently dating her boyfriend as well.

No. This isn’t normal.

“I’m not gay, Poppy! It just happened.” Livid, tired of sexual labels, I push her off me and sit up. “We didn’t define our relationship with such labels as ‘gay’ or ‘bisexual.’ We didn’t.”

The sheet, which had been covering the corpse, is now on the floor next to us.

I get to my feet, helping Poppy to hers. We don’t speak, fixating our attention to what’s on the table.

The upper part of Mikhail’s body, his face, neck, and chest, are badly burned to the point that he’s unrecognizable. However, his feet, legs, and lower torso, and more importantly the pelvic region, are perfectly intact.

“What the fuuu—” Poppy steps forward and points a long, bright pink manicured nail toward his dick. The gold bangles on her wrist jingle as she shakes her hand.

“Mikhail’s much bigger than that.”

I lick my lips nervously, trying to decide if that really is my boyfriend on the table.

“And where’s the mole on his leg?” She points to an area of skin that had a birthmark the size of a silver dollar. Today it’s completely bare.

“It’s not him….” My brain freezes as my mouth opens to say more, but I don’t. The thoughts racing through my mind are utterly crazy, certifiably insane.

She tilts her head to the side, purses her lips together, and waits for me to continue. Maybe she’s afraid to say what I’m thinking too.

meet the author

New York Times bestselling author Avery Aster pens The Manhattanites, a contemporary erotic romance series of full-length, stand-alone novels, and the naughty new adult prequel companion series The Undergrad Years. Join Avery’s newsletter eepurl.com/CQ665 and get a FREE ebook!

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Promo: Don’t Speak by Katy Regnery

Don’t Speak by Katy Regnery
A Modern Fairytale
Publication Date: February 27, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Read for FREE in KindleUnlimited: Amazon

From New York Times bestseller Katy Regnery comes a new twist on a beloved fairytale.

In this modern retelling of The Little Mermaid, a fisherman’s daughter from an Outer Banks island untouched by time, meets the son of the North Carolina governor at a fancy party she helps to cater.

Laire, who wants more from life than her little island can offer, is swept away by wealthy, sophisticated Erik, who is, in turn, entranced by her naiveté and charm. The two spend a whirlwind summer together that ends on the knife-point of heartbreak and forces them to go their separate ways.

Years later, when fate finds them together once again, they will discover the terrifying depth of the secrets they kept from each other, and learn that shattered hearts can only be healed by a love that willfully refuses to die.

All novels Katy Regnery’s ~a modern fairytale~ collection are written as fundraisers. 10% of the e-book sales for in March and April 2017 will be donated.

dont-speak-1

 

 

dont-speak-2

About Katy Regnery

 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katy Regnerystarted her writing career by enrolling in a short story class in January 2012. One year later, she signed her first contract and Katy’s first novel was published in September 2013.

Twenty-five books later, Katy claims authorship of the multi-titled, New York Times and USA Today Blueberry Lane Series, which follows the English, Winslow, Rousseau, Story, and Ambler families of Philadelphia; the six-book, bestselling ~a modern fairytale~ series; and several other standalone novels and novellas.

Katy’s first modern fairytale romance, The Vixen and the Vet, was nominated for a RITA® in 2015 and won the 2015 Kindle Book Award for romance. Katy’s boxed set, The English Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1–4, hit the USA Today bestseller list in 2015, and her Christmas story, Marrying Mr. English, appeared on the list a week later. In May 2016, Katy’s Blueberry Lane collection, The Winslow Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1-4, became a New York Times E-book bestseller.

In 2016, Katy signed a print-only agreement with Spencerhill Press. As a result, her Blueberry Lane paperback books will now be distributed to brick and mortar bookstores all over the United States.

Katy lives in the relative wilds of northern Fairfield County, Connecticut, where her writing room looks out at the woods, and her husband, two young children, two dogs, and one Blue Tonkinese kitten create just enough cheerful chaos to remind her that the very best love stories begin at home.

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Promo: Ripple Effect by Keri Lake

 

Ripley

They call me RIP.
I’m a killer. A murderer. A psychopath.
In the eyes of the righteous, I’m a monster, born of sin and depravity.
I want to protect her, but I’m not a good man.
I want to love her, but I no longer feel.
She gets under my skin, though, and has awakened something inside of me.
Something I’d kill for.
I’m not her savior—not even close. In fact, I’m worse than the hell she’s already suffered.
I’m her vengeance. Tit for tat, as they say.
And if she’s not careful, I’ll be her ruin.

Dylan

For months, I’ve watched him.
I’ve fantasized him as my savior, my lover. My ticket out of the hell I’ve lived in for the last six years.
I never dreamed he’d be my nightmare.
Had I known what he really is, I’d have never gotten in the car that night, but life is full of cause and effect.
And sometimes the choice on offer isn’t a choice at all.
It’s the result of something already in motion, and we’re merely left to survive the ripple effect.

*This is an erotic suspense/erotic romance not recommended for readers under the age of 18 due to graphic violence and sex.

 

Prologue

 

Ripley
Ripple effect: noun
1. a spreading effect or series of consequences caused by a single action or event

 

    “Do you want to live?” The barrel of the gun presses into my temple, still warm from the bullets that were shot into my stepmother, who now lies in a lifeless heap in the corner. “This moment will determine whether or not I pull the trigger.”
   The stranger’s breath smells of warm tobacco and liquor.
   Thick red blood pools at my boots, and my eyes follow the scarlet trail across the wooden planks to the wounded man, crawling on his elbows toward the door.
   I just sliced through the back of his knees with a blade, like a robot at the gunman’s command. Sixteen years of being a relatively normal kid ripped out of my hands, as I watch my first victim, about to make myself a murderer.
    My lips are dry. So is my throat, fuzzy and scratchy like cotton. Fear will do that, but so can excitement.
   Staring down at my hands, coated in his blood, I suddenly long to wash him off of me, to keep him from infecting me, but I can’t yet. I have to finish him. That’s what the stranger with the gun has asked me to do.
   Kill my father.
   With slow, stalking steps, I follow behind, until he turns over onto his back, and the gore of the last hour bleeds out of more wounds than I can count.
   “Tell me, boy.” His voice is raspy, gravelly, and carries a slight gurgle from whatever is backing up in his throat. In spite of the panting rise and fall of his chest, he lets out a hearty laugh and slaps a hand to his heart with a hacking cough that sprouts a glob of blood onto his lip. “What’s yours … feel like?” Blood coats his teeth and choppy words confess he’s losing to death. “Tell you what … mine felt like. Your momma … she was … a beautiful kill. Fucking … begged me not to hurt you. Told me … I could do whatever … I wanted to her. So long as I left … you alone.” Another laugh and he twists to the side, vomiting blood onto the floor beside him. After a pause, he wipes his face across his sleeve and continues, “So I did … everything … to that whoring cunt.”
   I tighten my fingers around the blade’s hilt, and despite the rage that snakes through my veins, I don’t yet finish him. I’ve waited too long for this. Night after night, I fantasized of these very seconds and the final words I’d say to him.
   With the gun pointed at my back, I find the courage to kill or be killed. “Every … stab. Like butter. And when I slit her throat …” A sickly cough ends on a choking fit and the wet clap in his chest tells me I punctured his lung earlier. “Last thing she mouthed … was your name.”
   I kneel down beside him and reach out a hand that he bats away. I’m stronger than what little resistance is left in him, and I grip his skull, staring into his dark, soulless eyes. Both of mine are a different color—one blue, like my mother’s, and one hazel. One offers the ability to see a man’s true colors, the other allows me to watch him die without remorse. “You want to know how it feels to hurt you?” The detachment in my voice is foreign to me. Calm.
   His lips stretch into a bloodstained smile. “Yes. Tell me. Tell me … how it feels.”
   I stab the knife into his throat and give a brutal turn of the blade, watching his eyes widen in horror as his hand flies to the hilt. Gripping his hair tight, I tip his head back and guide his eyes to mine. “I feel nothing.”
   His brows dip with a frown and focus on mine for a moment as he gasps for the air that’ll never save him now.
   I push off of him, surprised at the apathy washing over me while he grasps at the gaping wound in his windpipe. Surely a son should feel something for his father. And yet, I don’t. He’d beaten the love out of me a long time ago, leaving nothing but a hollow that has since filled with hate.
   From behind, a firm grip of my shoulder has me looking down to the gold lion ring on the hand curled there, and back to the man wearing a black shirt and slacks, who stands behind me.
   “Well done, Ripley.” He puffs his cigar and gives a squeeze of my shoulder. “Well done, my boy.”
   The man who freed me from my cage disappears into the dark room behind me, and when I turn my attention back on the one I’ve just killed, a terrifying reality settles over me.
   I’ve traded one cage for another.

 

 

 

.

 

Keri Lake is a married mother of two living in Michigan. By day, she tries to make use of the degrees she’s earned in science. By night, she writes dark contemporary, paranormal romance and urban fantasy. Though novels tend to be her focus, she also writes short stories and flash fiction on the many occasions distraction sucks her into the Land of Shiny Things.

For news, updates and sneak peeks at the sexy cover model candidates for her annual Cover Model Contest, subscribe to her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/HJPHH

 

 

Promo: Wolf in Her Soul by N. J. Walters

wolf-in-her-soul

Wolf in Her Soul by N. J. Walters


Salvation Pack Book 8
Release Date: February 21, 2017

 

Blurb:

She’s ready to run, but so tempted to stay…

Detective Reece Gallagher is a long way from Salvation, North Carolina. He’s spent a decade in Chicago searching for her—the elusive red-haired woman who haunts his dreams. He knows nothing about her, only that she’s in trouble. After ten fruitless years, he’s ready to give up and go home.

Hannah Burdette is burdened with a secret that won’t allow her to get close to anyone. She’s a half-breed werewolf, targeted by a stalker who wants those of impure blood eliminated.

There’s something different about the arson/murder case Reece and his partner are working on. His heightened senses tell him there’s a werewolf involved. Even more shocking, it’s related to an assault case involving a beautiful redhead in trouble. A scared, wounded woman his wolf wants to protect as his own.

But first Reece must convince her she doesn’t have to be alone anymore. And he’s going to have to talk fast, because the killer has upped the ante—and now they’re both in danger.

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34119766-wolf-in-her-soul

Buy links:


Amazon Kindle: http://amzn.to/2jDnwAN
B&N Nook: http://bit.ly/2jVzKpk
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2kSdCx7
iBooks: http://apple.co/2kRFdBu
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2jY1LPD
Samhain Direct: http://bit.ly/2jVsSrO

About the Author:

Once upon a time N.J. had the idea that she would like to quit her job at the bookstore, sell everything she owned, leave her hometown, and write romance novels in a place where no one knew her. And she did. Two years later, she went back to the bookstore and her hometown and settled in for another seven years.

One day she gave notice at her job on a Friday morning. On Sunday afternoon, she received a tentative acceptance for her first erotic romance novel and life would never be the same.   N.J. has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
N.J. enjoys hearing from readers, and she can be reached at njwalters22@yahoo.ca. You can check out her web site at http://www.njwalters.com

 

Author Links:

Website: http://www.njwalters.com
Newsletter: http://www.njwalters.com/contact.html
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/709041.N_J_Walters
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/N-J-Walters/e/B004WW37IO
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor

rock star

Promo: Going Down Hard (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 3) by Carly Phillips

Going Down Hard (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 3)

by Carly Phillips

Date of Publication: February 21, 2017

Blurb

A stand-alone Billionaire Bad Boys novel.

Billionaire Bad Boys: Rich, Powerful and sexy as hell.

Derek West rose from poverty to take the tech world by storm. He’s sexy, confident and gets any woman he wants. And who he wants is Cassie Storm, the rich girl he’s never been good enough for.

She’s desperate to save her family company and there’s only one man who can help. But Derek isn’t interested in helping. He wants to possess both the company and the woman he’s never been able to forget.

His plan? To screw her out of his head. Except once he’s had a taste of Cassie, he doesn’t want to let her go. Her family remembers where he came from, and they won’t allow it. When the truth about their pasts comes to light, though, it may be Cassie who’s going down hard.

Available From


About Carly Phillips

After a successful fifteen-year career with various New York publishing houses, and over 40 sexy contemporary romance novels published, N.Y. Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Carly Phillips is now an Indie author who writes to her own expectations and that of her readers. She continues the tradition of hot men and strong women and plans to publish many more sizzling stories. Carly lives in Purchase, NY with her family, two nearly adult daughters and two crazy dogs who star on her Facebook Fan Page and website. She’s a writer, a knitter of sorts, a wife, and a mom. In addition, she’s a Twitter and Internet junkie and is always around to interact with her readers. You can find out more about Carly at http://www.carlyphillips.com.

Find Carly Phillips Online

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