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Giveaway & Promo Tour: With Me by Gabbie S. Duran

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With Me Ebook

What happens when you take a chance one night … make a decision that will change your life forever?

Kasey Wilson, the girl next door, had a crush on the boy next door … Joseph Mitchell was that boy.

Kasey was left with the consequences of her decision when Joseph left her behind, leaving for the Marine Corps. She never thought she would see Joseph again, leaving her to continue on with her life, moving forward.

But fate has a way of intervening …

Joseph Mitchell always lived with the regret of walking away that night, never to see Kasey again. Finally ready to settle down, he’s now engaged to someone else. But when he finds Kasey again, he learns of a secret she’s been keeping, a secret that will change both their lives forever.

Can they finally have the relationship they never had? Or will Joseph be forced to walk away again?

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BONUS SCENE:

Kasey POV

I’m standing amongst a crowd of people waiting, as I am. The minutes have turned into an

hour, but in reality feel as if they are seconds slowly ticking by. I keep silently asking myself how much

longer do we have to wait? It’s agonizing.

“Mommy, how much longer do we have to wait?” Josephina anxiously asks, looking impatient

as I feel.

Forcing a smile on my face, I tell her, “Not much longer, sweetheart,” hoping I’m not lying.

Time continues to trickle by and within minutes I’m growing frustrated. I hear someone announce the

bus has been delayed, but the wait will soon end as they are nearing and it should only be another

couple of minutes. I’m not the only one smiling wide as we take in the news as Josephina begins to

excitedly hop up and down.

Although I’m as excited as she is, I’m more anxious for the wait to be over. The months of

separation have been harder than I had expected and all I want is to hold Joseph again.

Within minutes we all see the buses pulling up in the distance and my heart quickens a beat,

my vision becoming cloudy from the tears of excitement. Josephina tugs me forward as she pushes

us ahead with the crowd, trying to get as close as possible to the line they’ve designated for us to stay

behind.

The buses finally come to a stop and one by one the Marines step off as they rush to their

families. My eyes are frantically moving back and forth between the entrances of the two buses

searching for Joseph. Wives, girlfriends, moms, children, continue to all run to their loved ones. Hugs

and kisses are exchanged, but I’m still looking for him. The fear of not finding him is growing stronger

by the minute.

“Mommy, I don’t see daddy,” Josephina cries, my tears now matching hers as I continue

whipping my head in every direction looking for his familiar face. But, I can’t find it. It makes it

harder that the Marines all blend together due to their uniform, the camouflaged brown become one

amongst the crowd, but I’m determined not to give up. I need to find him. I’ve waited long enough.

The minutes continue to slowly pass by as I take notice that the final soldier has stepped off

the bus and Joseph is still nowhere in sight. My heart plummets into the depths of my stomach.

I can feel Josephina nervously tugging at my arm, requesting we move to search amongst the

crowd. I stay rooted to my spot, hoping if I stay in one place, he’ll find me, just like he found me that

day in the crowd of people. The day I never expected to see him again.

Everyone is slowly beginning to leave. The hundreds of people that were once waiting are

trickling down to only a handful. It’s then the panic sets in as I continue to search, still not finding him.

I grab onto the arm of the first high-ranking officer I see. “I’m sorry sir, but will there be

another bus coming soon?” I nervously ask.

He’s confusedly looking back at me and I don’t know if it’s from my question or because I look

like a train wreck at this point. The perfectly applied make-up I had put on this morning is probably

a mess, but that’s a result of standing out in the heat and crying for the last thirty minutes. “I’m sorry

ma’am, but no,” he apologetically replies. “Were you expecting someone today?”

“My husband,” I choke out around the tears lodged in my throat. It’s at that moment I hear the

wail of the baby awakening, forcing me to focus my attention on comforting him. My tears can’t help

but to continue to fall along with Josephina’s, who is at my side silently crying with me.

The officer is staring at all of us looking just as heartbroken. “Which platoon was he with?”

he asks. Without hesitating, I blurt it out, praying he has some information. “That platoon was on the

bus, are you sure he wasn’t there?”

“We’re sure. My daddy didn’t come to us,” Josephina answers.

The officer gives me a quick short nod before walking away, leaving us there to miserably

wait. He returns minutes later looking disappointed. “I’m sorry ma’am, there were a couple of soldiers

forced to stay behind. He may have been one of them.”

“Are they coming later?”

With a sad shake of his head, he explains, “No ma’am, unfortunately not for another couple of

months. I’m sorry.”

Shocked, I take in his words, silently allowing my heart to shatter as I force myself to comfort

a heartbroken Josephina. When I finally find the strength to walk again, I slowly begin to take the

steps needed to move us to the parking lot where I parked my car. We’ve only taken a couple steps

before I hear the rotors of a helicopter above us. It’s normal for them to fly by being that it’s an

airbase, so I think nothing of it as I continue walking my family to the car. It surprises me when it

comes closer and closer to the tarmac I’m standing on.

Curiously I watch as it lands in the far off distance. We watch as the door of the helicopter

opens and a single Marine climbs out. I should be turning around to walk away, but my heart is

telling me to stay. I feel my heart practically stop when he begins running towards us. “Daddy!” I

hear Josephina sequel before she yanks her hand from mine, already running towards the Marine.

“Josephina, come back here!” I yell to her, already running after her with the baby in my arms

thinking she’s lost her mind. There is no way this Marine can be Joseph, but I watch him scoop down

to pick up Josephina and continue to run in my direction before taking the baby and me next.

The feeling of him in my arms is unreal. Without waiting I kiss him, the feeling of his lips has

haunted my dreams every night since the day he left. I kiss him, robbing us both of our breath, and

when we finally pull away, my lips feel swollen, and my chest is rising and falling trying to take in air.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” I cry to him through my sobs. “They told me you may have had to

stay back.”

“Even if they tried to keep me away I would still come back to you,” he declares with a smile,

making me cry some more.

“I had to stay behind to do something and got delayed. I had my buddy give me a ride,” he

says, nodding his head at the helicopter behind us. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come back?” he

asks with a chuckle.

I can only nod my head as I’m rendered speechless that I have him standing in front of me. “I

would have moved heaven and earth to get back to you,” he declares, and from his expression I know

he truly means it.

Smiling up to him, I tell him, “I love you,” meaning it from the bottom of my heart, feeling like

the luckiest girl in the world because my family is whole again.

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About The Author

Gabbie DuranGabbie is a Southern California native, who currently lives in Washington with her wonderful husband, two amazing kids and a senior citizen kitty. When she’s not writing you can find her reading or sneaking off for a run. Some might say it’s a crazy life, but she wouldn’t change anything about it.

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Giveaway & Promo Tour: Roar by Aria Cage

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Title: Roar

Author: Aria Cage

Genre: New Adult

Release Date: March 17, 2014

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Synopsis

Charlie
I’m shadowed by sins; mine and the ones passed on to me. The only light comes in the way of him. He wants to fix me, but he can’t fix something so lost and broken. I’m completely undeserving and secretly unwilling. But how do I turn away the one person my body and soul soars for, the one thing that makes me forget the fear, the loss and the guilt? How do I stop the primal need which we are addicted to?

Nate
She is a stranger amongst the world, a captive behind her smiles and lies which shelters the truth. But I know her, we are caged together with the demons and guilt, yet my love is stronger against all our loss and I want to help her heal, to set her free. Under her cloak still lies my scared kitten, feral to her soul because of what he took from both of us. If it’s the last thing I do, I will help her roar like the tiger I know her to be, even if it means setting her free from me.

Caged by their demons and primal need, will their love be strong enough to set them free?

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About the Author

Aria Cage

My name is Aria and I have three confessions:
#1 No matter how much I try, I can’t stop shopping at Typo or the local tattooist. I believe that would be how I would introduce myself at an anonymous club, right?
#2 I write under another name but I’m not going to tell you … don’t beg, she will kill me if I tell. Ha! So I guess you could call me a genre whore.
#3 My phone is my life line. I can’t leave the house without it.
If you want to get to know me, follow my social pages on facebook and twitter and my blog.

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Promo Tour: Lovely Trigger by R.K. Lilley

Title: LOVELY TRIGGER (BOOK #3)
Author: R.K. LILLEY
THE EXPLOSIVE CONCLUSION OF 
DANIKA AND TRISTAN’S STORY
 
 

DANIKA

His name was Milton Sagar. He was an NFL quarterback who’d just been drafted to play for San Diego. I met him at a gallery showing in L.A. on a Friday night. He came to visit me in the Vegas gallery on the following Monday.

He was charming, intelligent, good-looking, and very, very interested, and for the first time in a long time, I found that I was genuinely interested back.
Not good on paper interested.
Heart-rate accelerating interested.
That hadn’t happened to me since Tristan. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or horrified by the development.
He was very persistent. I turned him down twice.
He had huge arms, gorgeous black hair, kind blue eyes. He even had dimples. He probably flirted in his sleep.
He was just the type of guy I should avoid.
The third time he very charmingly asked me out, I said yes to having lunch with him in Vegas, on my break at work. He flew in just to see me. I had no intention of letting it go one step further than that.
“So you live in Vegas, but you work in L.A a lot?” he asked me over appetizers.
I shook my head. “Just the opposite. I live in L.A, but I’m in Vegas quite a bit at the moment. I’m managing both galleries until I can train someone here.”
“L.A isn’t too far from San Diego.” He smiled.
I smiled back, admiring his dimples. I told myself I was utterly whacked in the head.
His smile faded just a tad. “I have the strangest question for you. I hope you don’t mind my bringing this up, but a buddy of mine told me something that’s been…bothering me. I guess he knows your ex-husband.”
I was taking a drink of wine and nearly choked on it. “My ex-husband?!” I asked, trying hard to sound casual. “This friend of yours has the wrong girl.”
Only a few people on the planet knew I’d been married for one hot, dysfunctional minute.
He looked surprised but not displeased. “Oh yeah? Well, that’s good. Obviously I can defend myself, but he had me spooked.”
I couldn’t leave it at that. It was just too bizarre. “What’s the name of this friend of yours?”
“Tristan Vega. I’m sure you’ve seen him around. He does the magic show here. It’s really good.”
I felt myself pale. Very carefully, I set down my glass, placing both hands carefully into my lap where I could clench them as hard as I needed to without looking crazy. “What exactly did Tristan tell you?”
“Oh, so you do know him? Not much. He just kind of…warned me off, in a vague sort of way. He said you had an ex-husband that was liable to stab me in my sleep if I laid a hand on you. He said he was huge, and insanely violent when it came to you, or rather, who you date. He basically told me that your ex would go to jail for murder before he’d let you go out with a guy like me.”
The sheer gall of that, the utter hypocritical nerve of it made me want to scream.
I smiled tightly. “Tristan has a twisted sense of humor. He was just messing with you. I was never married.”
We did, unfortunately, run into each other occasionally, but that night was the first time I’d sought Tristan out deliberately since the accident.
Working at the hotel got me backstage before his show, and eventually, his dressing room. It was very handy to be on a first name basis with every security guard on the property.
He met me, his jaw clenched, at the door.
I barged in, fuming. I waited to speak until he closed the door, giving us privacy.
“How dare you?!” I hissed, shaking. It felt surreal to be alone in a room with him. The only thing that made it bearable was my unadulterated rage.
“I know why you’re here,” he said calmly. “I can explain.”
“Oh please do. I would love to hear it.”
He took a few steps toward me, but I backed just as many steps away,
keeping my distance. “Don’t you dare try to touch me.”
He looked down, taking a deep breath. “Of course, Danika. I know how you feel about that. I take it this is about Milton?”
I nodded, biting back several sarcastic things that came to mind. “Of course it is. Why else would I be here?”
I wanted to say so much more, about how my love life wasn’t his business, about how he didn’t get to kiss my sister and God only knew what else and then try to interfere in my life, but I held my tongue. It was a herculean effort, but I did it. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that bothered me, how it had kept me up at night, the doubt, the uncertainty. Had I ever even known him at all?
“Why else indeed? Listen, I told him that because-“
“I can’t believe you told him I was divorced!”
He met my eyes. His were steady, his jaw so stubborn that I didn’t know if I wanted to slap it or kiss it. “You are divorced.” His tone was chastising. “That marriage was a joke. It didn’t even count.”
He flinched, not even trying to hide it, one hand shooting up to rub at a twitching temple. “I told him that because he is not the guy for you.”
“How cute. You think you know what’s good for me?”
“He’s a womanizer.”
I laughed. It was so bitter that I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t change it, couldn’t keep it in. “Look who’s talking.”
“And a liar.”
I began to look around, and when I realized that I was trying to find something to throw, I knew, with absolute certainty, that I needed to leave. Every second that we stayed within each other’s vicinity was bad for my peace of mind. This little scene would haunt me for months. Just seeing him up close like this, and breathing him in, it would mess me up, set me back.
I met his steady stare, trying not to snarl. “That is beside the point. None of this is your business. Nothing in my life is your business. Are we clear?”
“Please, Danika, stay clear of him. I know you have a right to do as you please, but understand that I wouldn’t have interfered if I wasn’t concerned. This guy is bad news. He’ll break your heart, and when he does, I may well break his neck.”
My mouth was trembling. With rage. With pain. The notion that he was watching over me like a big brother, that he thought of himself that way…it stung.
It cut
It wounded.
And I was wounded enough.
I pointed at him. “You stop it. Quit acting like you give a damn, and stay the fuck out of my life. You and I…we are nothing to each other. Less than strangers.”
He shook his head, and that set me off. I had to restrain myself from attacking him, but in my head I was shoving, hitting, slapping. Grabbing his shirt in both fists.
In reality, in that pregnant, futile moment, we only stared at each other.
We were both panting. I clenched and unclenched my fists, and watched his hands copying the motion.
“Please,” he mouthed.
I left, and thank God he didn’t stop me.
I went to a very public gala with Milton the next weekend. There was a red carpet with photographers. I smiled like I was having the best night of my life for those cameras, and tried not to think about the fact that I had said yes to this mostly out of spite. Tristan would see these pictures, and he would know just how much of a say he had in my life.
I let Milton kiss me goodnight when he dropped me back off at my apartment, but I didn’t invite him in. It was a good kiss. The man knew what he was doing. I knew I’d let him do it again.
He met me for lunch the following Monday in a posh café near the L.A gallery.
He had a black eye, and a badly swollen cheek that he claimed was from football practice. His story didn’t change, even when I tried to pry further.
Still, I couldn’t get the bizarre notion that Tristan had done it out of my head. I had no proof, just a strong gut feeling.
I cooked lasagna for him at my place the following weekend, and then I let him kiss me again. I even let him get to second base, and was half tempted to let him get to third.
Though I didn’t, it was nice to feel tempted. I’d half feared that part of me was permanently broken.
Perhaps I still had some shot at a love life.
He was easy to talk to, and we chatted on the phone nearly every day for three weeks. I wasn’t quite letting myself think of him as my boyfriend, or ready to even want something like that, but it certainly seemed to be heading in that direction.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about it all, but I was enjoying myself. He didn’t give me butterflies exactly, but at least I felt something, some shadow of the fervor that I’d tasted for a brief time.
It was nothing like the inferno of passion I’d felt for Tristan, but even so, it was a relief to find that I could still be lit at all, even if it was just a tiny flame.
It was the three week mark almost exactly when I got a call from his number, only it wasn’t him on the other end this time.
We’d made plans to meet that night for dinner, and I hadn’t been expecting a call from him, so my tone was a bit of a question as I answered, “Hello?”
“Is this Danika?” a woman on the other end asked. She sounded like she’d been crying.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“This is Belinda.”
“Hello, Belinda. How may I help you?” Her shaky voice sent me into auto-pilot, which for me was a sort of detached professionalism.
“I am Milton’s girlfriend,” she proclaimed, her shaky voice turning hard with anger.
“Excuse me?” I asked, completely caught off guard. How had I missed this?
“He and I have been together for nine years. I live with him. He doesn’t know that I know about you, but when he gets out of the shower, I’ll hand him the phone, and he can tell you all about me.”
I didn’t have a clue what to say to that, so we shared an awkward silence for a good two minutes before I came out with, “I had no idea-“
“Well, now you do, so what are you going to do about it?” Her tone was animated, but there was something so off about the entire thing, like she wasn’t at all surprised. How many times had Milton pulled this on her? I wondered, feeling a little disconnected from the entire thing.
Finally, Milton came on the line, his tone an apology, an apology for me, which I heard quickly set Belinda off on the other end.
“Danika, I can explain.”
I rolled my eyes, feeling more stupid than hurt. He’d only said four words, but all of the pieces of him clicked into place with those words, the way he shaped each syllable like he’d said it a thousand times, the perfect inflection in his cajoling tone as he launched the beginning salvo that led to the lies.
I heard the liar in him, the line he was about to tell. I had his number now. There was no undoing it. “Don’t bother. Just erase me from your contact list, please.”
It said a lot that my mind focused mostly on Tristan, and the fact that he’d been right about Milton. If I had listened to him, I’d have saved myself that embarrassment.
That pissed me off more than any other part of the entire sordid thing.

R.K. Lilley lives in Colorado with her husband and their two beautiful sons. She’s had a lot of interesting jobs, from being a first class flight attendant, to being a stablehand, but swears she never knew what hard work was until she had children. She’s been addicted to both reading and writing fiction since she can remember. She loves to travel, read, hike, paint, game, watch anime, and make the most of every single day. She is the author of the erotic romance novels In Flight, Mile High, Grounded, and the novella, Lana.

BOOK THREE: TRISTAN & DANIKA

THE IMPACT
Tristan hit rock bottom, and no one felt the impact harder than Danika. She was forced to see, in the most brutal of ways, that love does not conquer all. Bruised, bloody, and broken she had to walk away.

THE AFTERMATH
Picking up the pieces of your life after a tragedy is a daunting prospect, and that’s considering you still own all of the pieces. But what if you don’t? What if someone else owns those pieces, and those pieces are a part of your soul?
You dig deep and work with what you’ve got.
That’s what Danika told herself and believed, every single day, for years.
Tristan and Danika’s love had failed every test that life had thrown at them. She couldn’t forget that, not for one second. And if those tests had been overly harsh, well, she wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity. The failure was the thing she had to focus on. The failure was the lesson. She had no intention of working so hard to make it out of hell without learning that lesson well.

THE REUNION
Over six years after the night that changed everything, Danika finds herself forced to spend the weekend constantly in Tristan’s company, as they attend the wedding of two of their dearest friends. It’s been long enough that she feels they can be friendly again without it destroying her peace of mind, but just a small amount of time in his presence has her remembering something she had forced herself to forget: There’d been a reason she’d gone through hell with this man, for this man, some true good to precede the bad.
She shocks herself by quickly giving in to a hunger that she never imagined could still consume her.
Even the best intentioned denial has a breaking point.

THE HARSH REALITY
After everything that’s happened, the rise and the fall, the pain and the aftermath, can these two navigate the waters of acute regret, survive the trials of coming face to face with all that they have lost, and find the strength to try again?

This book is intended for readers 18 and up.

Promo Tour: See Jayne Play by Jami Denise

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Blurb:  Book One in the Jayne Series

Jayne King lived in a world of players. She’d been groomed by her father to win, taking no prisoners in her quest to reach the top. But, it was never enough. She wanted out, and just when she finds her escape, she’s pulled back into the underground crime world of Las Vegas. One phone call spins her life out of control and she once again has to live her life behind a mask of lies.

Her body is for sale, but her heart is off limits.

Flynn Maguire, professional gambler and notorious ladies’ man always wins. Always. As the heir to the Maguire Grand Hotel and Casino fortune, he’s always had his desires delivered on a silver platter. When he crosses paths with Jayne King, he will stop at nothing to have her. Nothing has ever stood between him and what he wanted, and there wasn’t any amount of money too high to pay to own her. He realizes too late that money can’t buy her heart and finds himself in a place he never thought he’d be. Out of luck.

EXCERPT 1

A few hours later, I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, surrounded by the entire contents of my closet, freaking out.

I had very little red, surprisingly, and I wasn’t sure how my handsome client was going to take it when I showed up disobeying his wishes. He seemed like the type that expected everyone to submit to his whims, especially the people he paid.

My phone vibrated from beside me and I picked it up, seeing it was Vince calling.

“Hello,” I answered.

“What’s taking you so long? The car is sitting outside.”

I got up and peeked out the window, and sure enough, a sleek black town car was parked at the curb, Collins standing beside it.

“Shit,” I huffed. “I’m not ready yet. Give me ten, and I’ll be right down.”

I ended the call and grabbed a silk blouse from my bed, shaking the wrinkles out and slipping it on.

It was sheer and red, and I hoped the lacy red bra I wore underneath would appease Flynn. I

matched it with a slim skirt and in an effort to make him happy, I slid on a pair of red satin pumps.

I found myself wanting to impress him, and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He was a client, not my boyfriend. I resented him for it, and irrationally, I wanted to hate him. At the end of the day,

I’d always be what I was, and he’d always be him. We were two different people from very different walks of life. It was ignorant to think otherwise.

I grabbed my purse and flew down the stairs to meet Vince outside. I wanted to get the date over with so I could come home and sulk. Alone.

I opened the door, and was surprised to see Flynn standing on my steps instead of Vince. He looked peeved, and that just set my back tight and defensive.

“It’s past five.”

I pressed my lips together and bit my tongue. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but that was the last thing I needed to do. He’d paid to fuck me, or not fuck me if things went the same direction as the last time we met. So, instead, I took a deep breath, relaxed my hips, and gave him Jayne’s winning smile.

“Beauty takes effort, Mr. Maguire. I wanted to look special. Just for you.”

His eyes danced. He gave me a quick glance, up and down, and then cocked his lips into a small smile.

“You do look beautiful, as always, Miss King.”

He held his arm out for me, and I tucked my hand into his elbow, tightening my grip as he turned to walk down the steps. I could feel the muscles underneath his coat, and the warmth from his body sent shivers up and down my spine.

I looked side to side, hoping to spot Vince. I wanted to make sure our plan was still in place without Flynn catching on.

“Your friend is waiting in his vehicle across the street.”

I laughed nervously. “He’s protective. It’s just a precaution.”

He hummed but didn’t comment. Collins opened the door for us and stepped aside while Flynn helped me inside. Sliding across the leather seats, I noticed right away that Flynn’s scent permeated the space. Delicious and spicy.

He moved in next to me and immediately threw his arm over the back of the leather seat, letting it settle on my shoulder. I moved in closer, enjoying the way it felt to be tucked under his arm.

I liked the way he took charge. It wasn’t so much arrogance as it was confidence. There was something very attractive about a man that knew what he wanted. It was even better when he took it.

Once the car began to move, Flynn turned sideways, facing me. I smiled at him, batted my lashes a bit, and adjusted myself so I could see him better. He was so devastatingly handsome. The line of his jaw was cut so sharp, and the smooth skin of his lips was so inviting.

I’d had my share of handsome men, but there was something so raw about his beauty, something wild. It danced in his eyes and played in his smile. There was darkness underneath, but I could definitely see some tenderness in him.

He was a player, same as me. His game was different, but not by much. He was well known for the high-stakes card games he played, a proud member of the Millionaire’s club. He may have been born into money, but he probably never had to touch it. A night at a table would set him ahead for years.

That was sexy to me. He was smart, a challenge. Pretty boys with brains were hard to come by, and it was refreshing to have someone that I could actually have a conversation with.

“Where are you taking me tonight, handsome?”

I ran my finger over his trouser-covered thigh, watching my fingernail leave a trail of red against the charcoal of the fabric.

“Nowhere.”

I looked up, confused. “Well, it feels like we’re moving, so we have to be on our way somewhere.”

His eyes darted between my eyes and my mouth, and for a brief moment I thought he might kiss me.

It thrilled me. I wanted him to touch me in the worst way.

“Take off your shoes.”

I blinked several times, puzzled by his sudden request. His eyes told me there was no questioning his words, so I shifted around so I could do as he asked. As I bent over, I made sure he got a good glimpse of my tits in my low-cut dress, and slowly slid the shoes off my feet and dropped them to the floor.

“I thought you’d appreciated the shoes. They’re red.”

“I do,” he said, smiling. “But I want to touch your feet. Put them in my lap so I can rub them.”

I moved quickly, happy to finally have his hands on me. There were far needier places that I needed him, but having him touch me at all was good enough.

His hands were strong, smooth, and his fingers gave the perfect amount of pressure on the arches of my feet. It felt amazing, and I couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched my feet, if ever.

His eyes were bright as he stared at me. He never missed a beat, rubbing and probing my feet like a professional. I was mesmerized, once again, lost in his eyes like a tamed lion.

“So, tell me, Miss King, do you enjoy being a tease?”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “I think you have it all wrong, Mr. Maguire. I only tease if I’m paid to tease. Otherwise, I always deliver.”

He hummed. “Yes, I guess you do. Up.”

He threw my legs off his lap and I scrambled to get up. It was no easy task, being that we were in a limo and all.

“Where do you want me?” I asked. My voice cracked. The look in his eyes told a thousand stories, and I wanted to read them all. I needed to know what he was thinking.

My confidence was failing. Miserably. He left me frustrated and confused. I had to get myself together and take control.

“Everywhere.”

Looking up into his eyes, I gasped. His voice was so soft, I had a feeling he hadn’t wanted me to hear him. I could see there was more to his comment.

I had to turn things around. The fire was burning out and strange emotions were stomping it out, so I got up on my knees and pressed my palms against his chest. “Lean back, Mr. Maguire.”

His lips twitched, but he held back a true smile. He wasn’t used to releasing the control, but I had a feeling he liked it. Wanted it.

I climbed over him once his back was against the cushion of the seat. He was absolute perfection, and that niggling in the back of my head started tugging again. It still made no sense that he was paying me to do what hundreds of women would gladly do for free.

Sacrifice a limb for.

“Tell me, Mr. Maguire,” I purred. “Do you always play hard to get?”

He finally smiled. “Hard to get? I have no intention of playing games.”

“No?”

He shook his head and moved his arms around to grasp my legs, pulling me down against him.

“The only thing hard around here is me. That’s what you’re here for.”

My skin pricked with excitement.

“I want you to rub your pussy on me. Make me come.”

His words shot through me like a stiff swig of harsh whiskey. Hearing him say he wanted anything from me was like gasoline. My engine roared to life, and my body was ready to give him everything I had.

The dark, bracing look in his eyes pushed me back into the reality of the situation, but there was no way I was turning my body off.

I would give him what he wanted.

“And I want your tits,” he spat. “Take that off so I can touch them.”

I wiggled out of the top, and began to gyrate on his lap, moaning when I felt his hardened cock press against my heat. I wanted him inside desperately. Like never before, I needed it.

“Just like that, and don’t stop. I want to watch you make me come.”

I rolled my hips, pressing myself down on him and moving back up again. Over and over again I went through the motions while he twisted and pulled at my nipples.

He was enthralled with them, never letting his eyes stray. He groaned, biting his lip as he concentrated on his hands and what they were doing with me, but never moved his hips to match my motions.

“I like this,” he murmured, letting his hand slip down my torso and placing it on my stomach. “So soft.”

My head fell back, my eyes rolling and my jaw slack. I wanted to cry out and beg him to touch me, to push my panties out of the way and thrust his fingers deep inside. It was ridiculous how badly I craved his touch. There was electricity between us, a true and undeniable attraction that was driving me slowly insane.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

I whimpered and raised my hips before slamming back down on his lap. He was tempting me, playing with my head, and I was glad he’d thrown me a reminder. This was not seduction. I was there to fulfill his needs, and only that. I wasn’t about to let him patronize me into begging for something from him.

“You like fucking all those men, Jayne? Their sweaty bodies pounding into you without knowing who you are?”

My eyes snapped open and then narrowed. Who the hell did he think he was?

“Does it bother you?” When I didn’t answer, he grabbed my hips, dragging his fingers across my hipbone and spreading his palms across my abdomen, barely avoiding my aching pussy underneath.

“I see. It does, doesn’t it?”

I didn’t answer. I merely gritted my teeth and continued rubbing myself harder and harder over his clothed cock. I would get off, damn it. If he wanted to mess in his pants, that was fine with me. I would still walk away with his money, and an orgasm was just a bonus.

I’d take it.

He smirked, and I’d finally had enough. Rich, handsome, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that I indeed wanted him to fuck me, and badly, but I was no one’s bitch.

Queen of Hearts #2 Jayne Series (Cover//Blurb Not yet Released)

EXCERPT

Sleep was hard to come by.  As the weeks went on, things between Jack and me had fallen into a routine of evading and comfortable avoidance. He hadn’t pushed for me to move in with him again, or even mentioned it for that matter. He just somehow understood that I needed time to figure out my issues.

I used that time without him. I dug deep and ticked off all the pros and cons and analyzed my reasons for running off after my dad and Vince died, and came to terms with my decision to stay with him as long as I had.

My conclusions weren’t easy to take.

I was a coward and a liar. Simple as that.

Jack had become my cushion; my tiny dilapidated motel room became the fortress that held my demons on the outside. The small town was a Mecca for all the things I thought I was missing out on and wanted in my life.

But it wasn’t. It was as solid of a trap as my previous life had been. I’d fallen into the same pattern, only a different outcome. I’d settled on a dismal job because it was easy, a hole in the wall motel because it was cheap, and a false relationship because it fed my insecurities and my fear of being alone.

I still had no idea where I fit in. I still wondered where I belonged, what I wanted. That mask I’d donned for as long as I could remember was still strapped to my skull, embedded into my skin with a grip so tight I thought I’d suffocate.

Coming to terms with the cold, hard facts was a blow for sure. I knew I would eventually go back to Vegas. It was inevitable. I wasn’t sure I’d stay, but I had to return and deal with the aftermath of what went down. The death of my family, the deceit from Flynn, my business, and most importantly, to face the ghosts that wouldn’t leave my mind.

Doyle Maguire.

That man had to pay, one way or another.

I could just picture that rat bastard sitting on his throne with a big shit-eating grin on his face, satisfied that he’d taken us down.

He had, to an extent. My father withered and died at his hand, he’d chased me off, and taken everything Vince had, including his life.

But, he was in for a surprise. I still had some fight in me. The more I pulled back the curtains and looked out the window of my mind, it was coming back. I was stronger than I gave myself credit for, and running off with my tail between my legs had never been my style. I’d slithered away, snuck off with the excuse of starting over, but in reality, I’d never stood my ground the way I should have.

It was time to bolster the courage to take the jerk to war.

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see jayne play author   About this Author

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JamiDeniseAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JamiDeniseO

Website:  http://jamidenise.weebly.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6952112.Jami_Denise

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.

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Promo Tour: Tug of War by K. Larsen

Tug of War banner
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TUG OF WAR (Bloodlines #1)
 
Impulsive, YES. Irresponsible, SURE. Necessary, PROBABLY. Going to end badly, most likely. Does any of that matter to me, no. I decided that I can’t please everyone so this week my only goal is to please me. I’m a selfish cow but I can’t seem to help it. I’m Clara Lord. I own Bloodline’s Tattoo Parlor, have a filthy mouth, no filter and a really strong objection to bossy idiots, pet names and wealthy men.
 
You will hate me, love me or love to hate me but either way it doesn’t matter. Everything I touch turns to crap and it’s all my fault. See, I lived through hell. Then I escaped hell and carefully spent the next eight years crafting a perfect little life until Domini Napoli screwed it all up. Now nothings right. Everything’s wrong and all my secrets are coming out.
Tug Of War has been voted:
Top 3 of 2013 list from Book Junkie Girls
Top 10 of 2013 from For The Love Of Books
Top 13 of 2013 List from I’ll Be Reading
 
RL Griffin listed Objective as the book she most looks forward to in 2014 releasing.
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Be one of the first 50 Amazon Reviews for a chance to win $250, and signed paperback!!
 
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ALL BLOODLINES SERIES BOOKS CAN BE READ AS STANDALONES
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 OBJECTIVE (Bloodlines #2)
(Releasing April 2014)
My story started out cliche, good girl falls for bad boy, but one wrong move changed all that. Turns out the good girl doesn’t save the bad boy. My story goes from cliche to risque to mind blowing. My story is different from all the others because the events of my story led me to one thing…my objective.
 
Remembering him comes in dreams and flashbacks that I can’t control. I tell myself it’s time to let go…but moving on from him is impossible when I still see our lives in my head. 


 
When you kill your soul mate you don’t ever really recover. 


A year of trying to forget or rather move past it has taught me that you can’t. Its an impossibility to move on from that kind of horrific form of betrayal. If you you’re too selfish or scared for suicide, like me, you learn to wake up every morning and follow routine. One foot in front of the other, day after day. 


 
Hollow. Lifeless. Haunted. Loving him was like the sun on a summer day. Living without him is like slowly burning to death. Torture.


 
A Bloodlines Novel. 


*Note Tug of War is the 1st in the Bloodlines books, each book can be read as a stand alone book.*


 
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 RESISTANCE (Bloodlines #3)
(Sawyer’s Story, Releasing Late 2014)
 
My name is Sawyer Crown, I own Bloodlines Tattoo Parlor, despise drama, and have a penchant for broken women. It’s a habit I intend to kick.
 
The arrangement had been simple. Clara and I sleep together if and when we wanted too. We were always best friends first. We raised Allie together with love. Four years into it did people assume we were married- yes. Did people assume I was Allie’s father- sure. Did I love every second of that- most definitely.
 
Then my world exploded. Clara left me. Moved on. I’m supposed to too. I just haven’t figured the moving on part out quite yet. The heart wants what it wants right? Or maybe the mind want what it wants for the heart. All of those scenarios are bullshit though. Clara went for the gold. She carved out the happiness she needed, wanted.
Now it’s my turn.
 
 
Prologue
I feel like I’m crawling in my skin. I’ve had this feeling for the last sixteen months just about. Time has done little thus far to mend me. People keep promising time heals all wounds. Bullshit. I call bullshit. Love is a four-letter-word.
 
Love is blindness. I didn’t want to see. I don’t want to see. I chose to ignore all the signs. I was in denial. I pretended that Clara and I were more than we were. I knew it was wrong. I buried that feeling deep though. Flat out refused to let it bubble to the surface where I’d have to deal with it.  I’d tear out my insides if I could go back and change it.
 
I didn’t give her room to breathe. I never gave her the chance to come to me, to want me. I gave her what I wanted to give and convinced myself that it was exactly what we both wanted and needed.
 
Our arrangement had been simple. We slept together if and when we wanted too. We were always best friends first and we were to raise Allie together with love. Four years into it did people assume we were married- yes. Did people assume I was Allies father- sure. Did I love every second of that- most definitely.
 
The problem is, real women don’t need you, they want you. Clara always needed me. I knew that. I liked it, hell I loved it. I thought it would be enough to keep her attached to me. It wasn’t. She put my heart in a blender and watched it spin around until it was a pureed mess. I’d love to blame her entirely, but when shit hit the fan and she told me she never asked for my love outside of our arrangement, she was right. She never did.
 
She was upfront, honest, clear with me from the start. I tried to change that subtly over time. To embed myself into her life so wholly that eventually she would want to submit to me entirely. My game got sloppy, I grew complacent. I used my dating life to try and piss her off and make her jealous. Sometimes depending on the woman, it worked. Mostly she held up her end of our deal and knew that we’d agreed to be able to date, therefore never bringing it up.
 
My weakness was that I let myself care too much. It was all a well played game between the two of us. A balancing act with no safety net. Games that never amounted to more than they were meant to, eventually played themselves out.
Stupid.
 
Clara is many things, but she’s not an asshole, contrary to what most think. She’s a straight shooter. Calls it like she sees it, a take action kinda gal. She loves fiercely and wholly. Even when she’s not in love with you. If she loves you, you get all of her for better or worse.
All things I love about her.
 
Clara makes mistakes and people view her actions as self-centered, but they don’t understand how she works. She’s not a selfish woman. She’s bold. Takes no prisoners. Driven. She gives back in so many ways.
 
People look at her and judge, they don’t see or maybe they choose to overlook all the things she does from the heart. Her friends, family and their and her personal well-being come first. Her two jobs follow next. She’s committed, blunt to a fault and owns her faults. It’s refreshing really. Her past was so much worse than even I knew, and I knew most of it, but when the parts I didn’t know came out- so much came to light, for me at least.   But by then, it was too late for us. There was a gap so wide between us there was no bridging it.
 
She loves Allie fiercely. She’s wonderful mom. I admire that about her. Sure she’s made mistakes- we both have, but she’s never claimed she hasn’t.  When the school told her the chorus program was being cut, she volunteered to continue teaching the kids for free. Bloodlines thrives as a business because she puts her heart and soul into it. Even from a distance she’s loyal to Marg and Amanda, staying in touch, talking often, putting in the effort to make sure they all stay connected. She’s thoughtful and kind and funny.
 
Dominic swooped in and threw us all off balance. I can’t say that had the situation been reversed I would have handled it any differently than she did. It was confusing. Where did we draw the line? How do you give up someone that’s been an intimate part of your life without giving them up completely? How do you tell what’s right and wrong? How do we maintain our family still for Allie? When you never talk about the hard stuff together, how can you expect the other to just know what’s in your head? Bottom line, you can’t. It was a cluster fuck to say the least. We’ve found some semblance of peace. We’re just rearranged now. I’m supposed to accept that and move on. Supposed being the key word.
 
I just haven’t figured the moving on part out quite yet. The heart wants what it wants right? Or maybe the mind want what it wants for the heart. All of those scenarios are bullshit though. Clara went for the gold. She carved out the happiness she needed, wanted.
 
Now it’s my turn.
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TARGET 84 (Bloodlines #4)
(Bentley’s Story, Releasing Early 2015)
My first kill was at sixteen. One might think that’s young but I’d been trained for two years before I was allowed to execute a human target on my own. I won’t ever forget him. Jackson Manning was testifying in a human trafficking case and someone didn’t want him to be heard. I’d been sloppy and careless, but excited and if I’m honest, a little turned on too. I’d found myself rather curious staring at his unmoving body. I’d been scolded for my carelessness but it didn’t matter. I’d had a taste of the real thing and I thirsted for more. My desire, my obsession took on a new form that day. It wasn’t a goal I was working towards anymore, it was tangible now. 
 
It is my life.

I am an assassin. I don’t know my targets or why they’re targeted. I am commissioned to kill without question and I am paid grandly for the service I provide. I get a text with a name and an address. I watch them. I wait. I become who I need to be. I seduce them if necessary to get close enough to execute. 
 
I love my job, or loved my job. Everything changed when I was assigned: ATF Agent Bentley James, last known location Christiansburg, VA.
 
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I have a weird addiction to goat cheese and chocolate martinis, not together though.
I adore my dog. He is the most awesome snuggledoo in the history of dogs.
 
 Seriously.
 
I hate dirty dishes.
I like sarcasm and funny people.
 
I should probably be running right now… because of the goat cheese….and stuff.

I’ve been told I’m the mistress of Snark. I like that.


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Promo Tour: Cherry Girl by Raine Miller


Elaina Morrison has loved Neil McManus her whole life. She doesn’t remember a time when she didn’t love him. Through heartbreaking tragedy and years of separation, her love holds true…until life stomps all over her heart, shattering her perfect dream, teaching her how hard it is to let go.

Real life doesn’t have anything on romantic dreams though, as these two have learned repeatedly. It sucks big time, leaving painful scars in its wake. 

But Neil isn’t giving up. He’s endured years of longing and sacrifice to wait for her. Always a soldier, he knows his way around a battlefield, and winning Elaina is no different. So that’s precisely what Neil is going to do. He’ll go in fighting, and make Elaina see what he already knows.

That she will forever be his Cherry Girl…

Then
Neil smiled at me.  His entire beautiful
face lighting up from his eyes to his chin.
My guy looked really happy. 
My guy.
I have a guy.  Neil.  Neil McManus is my man now.
Christmas
and my birthday had come to me early this year, and both at the same time
apparently.
Then
I watched him get up from the bed and head into his bathroom.  I heard the shower turn on and then the
opening and closing of cupboards.  He
returned a few moments later with a big towel to wrap around me, and said he’d
left me a shirt and some shorts I could wear after my shower if I liked.  He told me he would be in the kitchen setting
up the coffeemaker for the morning, and then he left the bedroom and closed the
door.
I
stayed in Neil’s bed for another moment and did my best to take everything
in.  I was definitely a mess on the outside, but inside where my heart
still thwacked out a beat, I was absolutely floating around cloud nine.
He
loved me.  Neil really loved me, but damn if I’d allow him to kiss me
again before I got clean and comfortable.  I felt utterly gross and
hideous and still had trouble processing all that had just happened with us in
the span of a very few hours.
I
left his bed and headed into the bathroom.  The shower was already hot and
steaming up the small space.  As promised he’d set out his toothbrush and
paste for me to use, and even some silky boxers and a soft black T-shirt
with The Jimi Hendrix Experience in white letters across the
front.
I
knew Neil was a Hendrix fan and I’d even seen him wearing this very shirt on
occasion, and yet the fact he’d picked it out for me in particular, touched
me.  I reached for it and buried my face in its softness, inhaling
deeply.  Neil’s scent has always been heavenly to me and I’d been addicted
to it for years.  Hard to describe, but absolutely lush on my
sensibilities.  Like fresh air and forest spice and pure water all
combined into the perfect blend of male fragrance.
And
I’d been restricted from indulging in it for most of my life.  But not anymore.
I
shut the bathroom door, stripped out of my bra and knickers, and got clean in
my boyfriend’s shower.  I so loved the words contained in that
thought.
I’m
sure I wore a ridiculous grin on my face the whole time I scrubbed.  Once
I was done in his shower and working out my teeth with his own personal
toothbrush, I still kept grinning into the mirror like an idiot, glad the door
was shut and Neil couldn’t see how much of a lovesick fool I was being right
now.  Pointless indeed.  He would know it the moment I stepped out anyway.
He probably already did know it.
I
left the bathroom dressed in his T-shirt and silky boxer shorts.  Better than naked in a towel or my
puked-spotted clothes and really sexy to have my skin against things that had
been against his previously.
His
shirt came down to the top of my thighs and I’d already decided I was keeping
the thing.  Yeah, Neil’s beloved Hendrix shirt would forever belong to
me.  I had absolutely no qualms about my thievery either.  I didn’t
want to have to be without the scent of him once his leave was over.  I wouldn’t have him for long before he had to
go back to being owned by the British Army in Afghanistan.  That meant his shirt wasn’t getting washed
anytime soon.  If ever.
My
inner ramblings distracted me to the point I wasn’t thinking about what might
be waiting for me when I came out.  But the sight that greeted me upon my
return to the bedroom in nothing but Neil’s shorts and shirt, was not even
close to what I expected.  Stopping dead in my tracks, I’m sure my eyes
were bugging out of my skull.  The towel
I’d been using to dry my hair slid from my grip and onto the floor with a soft
thud.
Neil
was in his bed, and he was definitely waiting for me.
Holy
Hell, he was a beautiful man.  Sitting up
against the headboard, he was leaning back, his wide bare chest exposed for my
eyes to drink in.  The cuts and angles of his hard muscles and golden skin
in contrast to the white sheets nearly made me whimper aloud.  I wanted to touch him so badly and knew there
was a very good chance I would be getting my wish soon.
I
could see that his nipples were hard, his gaze trained upon me deep with
liquidity, mysterious and sensual with a bit of an edge.  I could only
imagine what he was thinking about right now.
Sweaty, crazy, naked shagging I’m sure.
I definitely was.
My
nipples were hard too, and I felt an involuntary shiver roll down my spine at
the thought of Neil putting his hands on them.
I’d
seen his body before.  I knew what Neil looked like without his shirt on,
and I knew very well about the washboard abs, and how they tapered into a V at
his hips that made my insides a quivering mess whenever I was lucky enough to get
a decent look at him.  Which happened only on occasion, unfortunately.
Neil
was blessed with an earthly form that easily put him into mythical god
territory, but I’d never been in a position to allow myself to think of him in
that way.  Those times I’d seen him had been when he was working out with
Ian or roughing ’round with boys at football or having a swim.
This
situation right now was completely different.  Neil was like this for me
and for me alone.  He was offering himself to me—his body for my eyes to
see, for my hands to touch, and for my lips to kiss.
“You’ve
dropped your towel,” he said softly, splaying a hand out over the sheet, making
his forearm muscle flex.
“I
know.”  I struggled to breathe through the pounding inside my chest and
reached down for the towel.
“Leave
it.”
Neil’s
voice was harder, different—a command really.  I froze in step, flipping my eyes up so I
could see his face and understand what he meant.
His
long muscled arms were stretched out toward me.  “Come here, beautiful,” he said softly. “Don’t
think about anything that scares you right now.
It’s only me…and you.”
I
nodded at him but no words would come from my mouth.  All I could do was take in the experience of
the moment and try to hear what he was saying to me.
“I
want to hold you, and be close, and know that nobody is going to come between
us or try to take you away from me. I want you all to myself for once.”  He tilted his head a little.  “Do you understand?”
“I
do,” I managed.
Neil
kept his arms out, his eyes glittering at me in a way I’d never experienced from
him before.  He was demanding from me
sure, but that’s not what gave me pause.
The feelings rushing through me were thrilling, but also very
frightening at the same time.  My
emotions paralyzed me because I really understood, right then and there in that
moment, the enormity of what I was doing.
Giving myself over to another person.
Giving myself to Neil.
It
made me extremely vulnerable now didn’t it?
I
felt the warning kiss of fear brush over my heart as clearly as a cold breeze
that makes you rub your own arms in an effort to ward off a shivering chill.
I
didn’t know how I’d survive if I lost him now.
If he stopped loving me I wouldn’t be able to bear it.  Or if I lost him to the war, which was a
terrifying risk all on its own, and one he took every day he remained in active
military service. I’d never make it out intact.
Losing Neil would destroy me after this night.
“Don’t
think about the bad things, Elaina.  Let
all that go and come to me.  My beautiful Cherry Girl…come over here and
let me love you.”
I
went.
Raine Miller has been reading romance novels since she picked up that first Barbara Cartland book at the tender age of thirteen. And it’s a safe bet she’ll never stop, because now she writes them too! Granted Raine’s stories are edgy enough to turn Ms. Cartland in her grave, but to her way of thinking, a hot, sexy hero never goes out of fashion. A part-time teacher and writer of sexy romance stories every other chance she gets pretty much fills her days. She has a handsome prince of a husband, and two brilliant sons to pull her back into the real world if the writing takes her too far away. Her sons know she likes to write stories, but gratefully have never asked to read any, thank God! Raine loves to hear from readers and to chat about the characters in her books.

Promo Tour and Review : Finding Willow by Dawn Robertson

Finding Willow banner

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Title: Finding Willow

Author: Dawn Robertson

Genre: Erotic Romance

Release Date: November 25, 2013

Book Trailer: http://vimeo.com/78685675#

Hosted By: Love Between the Sheets Promotions

AMAZON US: http://goo.gl/h6pDtT

AMAZON UK : http://goo.gl/p16fZp

B&N: http://goo.gl/xhvybd

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Synopsis

Sex is all I have ever known.

It started at an early age, and never stopped.

Men, women, threesomes, foursomes, orgies. Fuck it, whatever goes.

Twenty eight years old and nothing to show for my life but a fat bank account, and an impressive porn catalogue; all featuring yours truly; Starburst Bloom.

I’m at a crossroads, and I have a choice to make. I choose salvation.

I choose life. I choose myself, for the first time ever.

I will find her. I will find the life I was forced to give up.

I just pray that he stays out of my way.

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About the Author

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Dawn is a woman of many colors. Born and raised in the North-East, the youngest child of three, to two hard working, and extremely dedicated parents, she thrived on her love for creative writing. Her commitment to hard work lead her down a number of career paths over the years, stopping with her love for fiction.

In a bold, and unexpected move, she quit her full-time nine to five gig to thrust herself into her debut erotic novel, Hers.

Dawn is a mother, entrepreneur, and self proclaimed book whore.

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Connect with Dawn

Facebook | Goodreads | Website | Pinterest | Twitter

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Finding Willow: My 4 star review
I received arc for review/blog.
If there is one thing for sure, Star Bloom knows she needs to make a major change
in her life. Working as a porn star for too many years the lifestyle has finally caught
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up with up. Alcohol and drug abuse are her “go to” fix for the memories that haunt
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her. Memories of Blue James and the sexual abuse that started when she was younger
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and continued years later, then she gave birth to a baby girl…Willow, only to give her up
for adoption. Approaching thirty years old Star sets out to find her daughter and one
thing stands in her way…Blue.
When Blue discovered that there was more to my friendship with his sister than met
the eye, he took what he wanted. He claimed his territory.

I was drawn in from the start, with sexual escapades and yes, Seven and Levi (Hers) are
back as Seven finally learns the truth about Star and Blue’s relationship.
I was cheering Star on in her effort to be rid of Blue once and for all, to start a new
life, one that hopefully included finding Willow.
Today, I finally reclaim my life.
Returning to her hometown of Woodstock, she meets Chrome Grant a badass biker
and the magnetic pull between them is electric. Tall, shaved head, warm carmel eyes
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sexy and dangerous. Be prepared for hot and steamy shouts of orgasmic bliss
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as Chrome and Star, discover each other’s hot spots. Oh…and he has an APA through
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the head of his cock! Lord have mercy. I really liked River, Chrome’s brother and I hope
we get to know more about him. Maybe a story with him and Journey, Star’s sister, (hint, hint)
Finally, we get to meet the hippie parents who are responsible for the sinful upbringing
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of Star and Seven. Nomads, drug users, multiple sex partners (swingers) is it any wonder
why Seven grew up to be a Dominatrix and Star a porn queen.
On her journey to find Willow, Star is determined to make a safe and stable life
for the daughter she gave up, one she never had. I had to smile at the names of
the characters, truly names of a hippie culture. I know…I lived through it.

Thanksgiving dessert, enjoy!
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Book #1: Hers by Dawn Robertson

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Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble

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Finding Willow book packs 554112_1427983800763861_2072163342_n

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