The Doctor

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The Doctor will see you on August 29th.
Keep reading for an excerpt!

Amazon → https://amzn.to/2KLO59c
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For years, he was a part of my life. I watched him rush to the hospital countless times, his beautiful surgeon hands racing to save lives.

After all this time, I can’t escape the truth.

I want Dr. Lowe.

Lust chokes each moment we’re together. He promises to fulfill my fantasies—every dirty, naughty desire we can dream up.

Only, I can’t have him.

He’s confident. Experienced. Seductive.

And he’s my ex-boyfriend’s father.

EXCERPT:

It was a nicer waiting room than where I’d just been, but much smaller. Only enough room for six people or so. This had to be the place where doctors delivered their post-op summary to families.

I turned to face him, and all the air whooshed from my lungs.

Greg was essentially wearing a suit. He wore black dress pants, a white collared shirt and a cobalt-colored tie. His suitcoat was fitted and white, and he completed the look with a turquoise stethoscope slung around his neck. My gaze traced the blue lettering over his right breast.

Gregory Lowe, MD

Trauma Surgery

It didn’t matter that he had faint lines around his eyes hinting at his fatigue, or that his normally perfect hair looked disheveled, as if he’d run a hand through it one too many times. It didn’t matter because he looked fucking perfect. My dirty doctor fantasy come to life.

And he gazed back at me like he wanted to eat me whole, which was more than fine with me. He sauntered over, and his confidence seemed to build with each step, widening his wicked smile.

His voice was deep and sinful. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Problem?” I whispered.

“You’re flushed. Breathing hard.” He seized my wrist, pressed his index finger to my pulse point, and peered down at his watch, counting the seconds. “Your pulse is elevated.”

I had no idea my wrist was an erogenous zone, but in Greg’s hands, every inch of my skin felt that way. I swallowed a breath. “I’m having a reaction to something.”

God, his expression was corrupt and victorious as he walked me backward toward a wall. He feigned concern. “Any idea what’s causing it?”

He wasn’t playing fair, but I liked it. “No . . . Doctor.”

The second the words left my mouth, we burst into flames. His lips slammed against mine at the same instant my back hit the wall. His hands were on my waist, then under my shirt, sliding over my belly and skimming upward. I clenched the lapels of his coat as our tongues tangled with each other, battling for control. He won, of course.

It made sense that our kiss was electric because I was a live wire tonight. His broad chest flattened against me, his hands molding to my bra-covered breasts while he pushed me against the wall. I tore my mouth from his and turned my head to the side so I could drag air into my lungs, and his hot, wet mouth latched onto the sensitive spot below my ear, biting and sucking until I let out a moan.

It was wild what we were doing, and how fast we attacked each other, but the where we were doing this was craziest part of it. He didn’t seem to have any concerns though. “Undo your pants,” he rasped into my ear. “I want to check and see how severe this reaction is.”

“Oh my God,” I gasped. Without thinking, my hands moved to follow his command. He pulled his lower body away from mine, just enough to allow me to do it. The snap of my jeans popped open, and I couldn’t get my zipper down fast enough. Should I be worried about someone catching us?

I wasn’t. I trusted him. Greg wouldn’t put either of us in a position for that to happen, and his calm, focused expression reinforced it. He looked absolutely in control, both of me and the situation.

His dark eyes sharpened on mine, studying my response while he slid his hand down the front of my panties. My lips parted as his fingers found me hot and wet for him. What did I look like, clutching his arms right above his elbows as his fingers twitched on my swollen clit? I shuddered with pleasure. Had my pupils dilated? Could he tell my heart rate was racing through the roof?

His lips peeled back in a smug smile. “That is quite the reaction.” Those skilled fingers stirred me further, and I tightened my grip on his arms, biting off a louder moan. Shit, his touch was magic. It lit me up. He could tell too, because his eyes burned with enjoyment. “And you’re still not sure what’s causing it?”

He liked this scene as much as I did. Maybe more.

About the Author:
Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an unfortunate name change during her time there. Now she lives in Kentucky and manages a team of graphic artists. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, is married with two sons, writes dirty books, and couldn’t be any happier.

Stalk Nikki:
Website: http://www.nikkisloane.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nikkisloaneauthor/?fref=ts
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AuthorNSloane
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2fsTzpI

Lachlan Protege

Lachlan’s Protégé by V.F. Mason is releasing on AUGUST 15th!
She never knew nightmares. Until she became mine.

ADD TO YOUR TBR: https://bit.ly/2jdK4Kx
LEARN MORE HERE: https://www.subscribepage.com/lachlansprodark

She never knew nightmares.
Until she became mine.

She was a ballerina.
He was a serial killer.

She ran away from him.
He caught her.

She begged for mercy.
He gave her none.

She was an angel.
He was a monster.

She wanted to escape.
He wanted to destroy her.

They were at war.
And only one of them would win.

EXCERPT:

Torture is an art form I’ve learned through the years, mastered for decades, and explored in different variations with anyone who I found fit.

Most people will say I’m a monster or a psycho.

However, in life, nothing is ever that simple, as evil and goodness are in the eyes of the beholder.

About the Author:
V.F.Mason always loved reading books and had quite a few fights with her momma over the genre she liked (romance, duh!) She studied filmmaking and thought that would feed her desire for stories, but that didn’t happen. Finally, when she was tired of all those voices in her head, she sat down and wrote a book. It was a huge decision to make and she thanks her friends and family for supporting her in it. When she is not writing, she can be found with her friends doing all sorts of crazy things or reading recent romance books that were written by her favorite authors.

Connect with V.F.!
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorVFMason/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Author_VFMason
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2ozrS0W
Newsletter: http://vfmason.com/newsletter/
Website: http://vfmason.com/

Calla’s Kitchen by Teresa Crumpton!

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Need a taste?
Keep reading for an excerpt from Calla’s Kitchen by Teresa Crumpton!
It releases July 13th!
PRE-ORDER NOW:

BLURB:

Calla Bond needs a rebound, and unfortunately so does her cooking. The chef and restaurateur lost her edge right about the time she found her fiance in bed with another woman. For the last year, the only thing saving her restaurant has been her family of friends willing to pick up the slack while she nursed a deeply broken heart. Now, however, Calla’s nearly out of credit with her closest pals, and they’re determined to help her heal her spirit and find her cooking mojo again.

Wes Westminster adores Calla, but his close relationship with Calla’s brother – not to mention Calla’s engagement – has ensured the two have been strictly friends. Even now, with no fiance in his way, Wes isn’t ready to jeopardize both of those friendships just to pursue the girl of his dreams. But Wes will have to make peace with his inner conflict soon, because Calla’s restaurant family is setting her up, and Wes is the one pushing her to move on.

Calla’s Kitchen may be read and enjoyed as a standalone contemporary romance!

Wes

I lie in bed for a little longer, willing my woody to go down before climbing out of bed. Having to pee when you have morning wood is a bitch. Someone should have thought about that during our creation or evolution. When I finally make it out to the kitchen, Calla has coffee brewed and ready for me. She’s still in her sexy lace cami and hipsters, one foot resting on top of the other, with her hip propped against the counter next to the stove as she fries four eggs.

She glances up from the skillet. “Fried egg sandwich okay for breakfast?”

“Sounds great. Thanks for the coffee. It tastes good. Almost like you actually drink it.”

Her face contorts into a disgusted grimace. “Not even. That,” she gestures to my cup, “is gross. I’m not sure how you guys drink it. Just be glad I have the French press and grounds, otherwise your happy ass would be walking down to the coffee shop.”

“I’m very thankful. Besides,” I glance down, “I’d probably get arrested if I walked down the street wearing this. Not to mention, I wouldn’t get service.”

She faces me, giving me a wry smile. “Go sit down. Breakfast is almost ready.”

She turns back toward the stove as I sit at the dining table. The paper lays open on the table, but instead of picking it up, my eyes stay glued to her. My thoughts drift to all the naughty things we did last night, and new ones I’d like to try this morning. Calla glances over her shoulder, finding me watching her. I’d shifted without even realizing it, as I’d fantasized about her. My left elbow now rests on the table, with my head propped in my hand, while my right hand remains wrapped around my coffee mug. She gives me a quizzical look.

“Why so pensive?” she asks, returning her focus back to the skillet on the stove. She flips the eggs one more time before making the sandwiches.

Pensive? “I-” I stop, not sure what I want to say. As I work through my thoughts, my mouth opens and closes like a fish, but no words follow.

Cautiously, Calla carries our plates to the table, placing one in front of me and the other in front of her chair.

“Calla, last night…” I start.

She cuts me off. “I’m sorry, Wes. It won’t happen again. I shouldn’t have….”

About Teresa

Teresa Crumpton writes dark supernatural thrillers, along with contemporary romance, poetry and short stories. She started writing when she was young, never thinking one day she’d turn her passion into a career. Teresa’s first novel, Her Legacy, is a haunting ghost story with a little rumored family history within the pages.

Teresa obtained two degrees, Government with an Emphasis in Legal Studies, and English Lit, hoping to get into law school. In 2004 she married the man of her dreams. As they moved around the country her dreams changed. She once again went back to school, this time obtaining a Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing, and her writing became not only her passion, but also the fulfillment of a promise to her father before he passed.

Teresa grew up in Cincinnati and Dallas/Ft. Worth, making her a hybrid Midwest and southern girl. She has five siblings (all half or step), which always made for a boisterous Christmas while traveling.

Follow Teresa Online!
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Screwing the Mob

Title: Screwing the Mob
Author: Kristen Luciani
Genre: Mafia Romance
Publication Date: June 12th, 2018
Cover Designer: Dark City Designs
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:

When the allure of the forbidden takes a deadly turn…
Shaye
He never cared about me. He never would. He was always on the take, but this time he took too much.
I betrayed my family tonight. I lost my virginity tonight. I was ready to give it all up tonight.
I loved him, and he treated me like I was no better than the dirt on the bottom of his Louboutin loafer. Big mistake. One thought makes me smile through the hot tears streaming down my face.
I could have him killed.
Nico
I only wanted to f*ck her. I tried to convince myself that’s all it was. But I’m a damn liar. I lied to myself about how I feel, and I lied to her when I told her I wanted her to leave.
I didn’t. I wanted her…no, needed her…to stay.
Now I’m dodging calls from her maniacal brother, who, if he found out I’d so much as seen her in that sexy as hell lingerie, would wrap his beefy hands around my throat and squeeze until my eyeballs popped out of the sockets.
Kristen Luciani is a USA Today bestselling author and momtrepreneur with a penchant for stilettos, Silicon Valley, plunging necklines and grapefruit martinis. As a deep-rooted romantic who prefers juicy drama to fill the lives of anyone other than her, she tried her hand at creating a world of enchantment, sensuality, and intrigue, finally uncovering her true passion. No pun intended…
Author Links:
Pre-Order Links:
Books2Read – http://bit.ly/2HgVbfH

Let Me Know When It’s Live–>https://bit.ly/2HBu3th
You have a lot of responsibilities now, Nico.
My grandfather’s voice drifts back into my conscious. I’d love to have a few more minutes with him to figure out why the hell he ever got involved with this shit in the first place.
I want it all, but can I have it all? That’s the magic question, one I have yet to answer for myself. Seems like any direction I go will lead to a dead end. And someone’s gonna have the barrel of a gun pointed directly at me.
Shaye is right. I love what I do. I love having the freedom to make decisions, to build businesses from scratch and watch the money pour into them as time passes. I love having people at my beck and call, people who are anxious to do me favors because they sense the power and control I have — things that they want for themselves, things they know I can provide them. I love knowing that I can do whatever I please and get whatever I want at any time. I’ve worked my ass off for those privileges, and they don’t come cheap. I’ve done my time. I’ve watched and learned. I’ve been groomed for this position. People put a lot of trust and faith in my ability to make them money, and I never disappoint.
But despite everything I’ve achieved, I know there’s always someone lurking, positioned to pull the rug out from under me because he thinks he can do it better. I pay for protection, just as my father does, but that doesn’t mean someone else’s money isn’t just as green. Loyalty is fleeting. If someone comes along with a grand plan and a hell of a lot of cash behind him, my good looks and charm won’t be able to protect my position for too long.
Grandpa made sure to keep me front and center, letting everyone know, in no uncertain terms, that his protégé would eventually carry on his legacy. But for as strong as I appear to be, I know I’m vulnerable. We all are. All it takes is one bullet and someone with a motive.

 

Arabella’s Taming (Bridal Discipline Book 5) by #GoldenAngel

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Arabella’s Taming (Bridal Discipline Book 5)

Publication Date: May 29, 2018

Arabella’s Taming by Golden Angel will be here May 29th!

KEEP READING FOR A SINFULLY DELICIOUS EXCERPT!

FOLLOW ANGEL FOR RELEASE ALERTS → http://bit.ly/2G68e3O

BLURB:

Lady Arabella Windham, sister to the Duke of Manchester, has given up on ever attracting the positive attention of Lord Thomas Hood. After discovering he still sees her as the same hoydenish young woman she was in the past, no matter her current perfectly ladylike behavior, and realizing she will never match up to his infamous list of attributes for a wife, she throws caution to the wind and becomes more reckless than ever.

Why bother being good if it’s not going to even be noticed, much less acknowledged?

When her return to feckless and indiscreet behavior results in disgrace however, it’s Lord Thomas Hood who is caught up in the scandal with her. With a strong-willed bride determined to make her new husband dance to her tune and a stubborn lord determined to curb his new wife’s imprudent ways, is a happily-ever-after even possible?

Despite being part of a series, Arabella’s Taming may be read and enjoyed as a standalone.

ENJOY THIS STEAMY EXCERPT!

Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so forward, but Arabella didn’t see the point in pretending. She understood exactly what was to happen and she was rather looking forward to it. Perhaps she should have been pretending more ignorance? But where was the attraction in that?

He should be grateful he didn’t have to explain anything to her. Grateful she wasn’t horrified or shocked or disgusted by the idea. Granted, she’d been a little of all three when she’d first learned what happened between a man and a woman in the bedchamber – especially some of the salacious details her friends had let fall – but she’d moved past those initial reactions. Knowing there was inexpressible pleasure at the end of the proceedings, and sometimes before, had helped a great deal.

Their wedding night would be a good deal less fun if she’d just learned about what they were meant to do and had no idea that there would be a reward for indulging in what still sounded like a rather awkward business.

Although she was beginning to understand some of what her friends meant. With Thomas’ lips on hers, his arms circled around her waist and holding her up, one hand already sliding down towards her bottom, and the strange hardness of his groin pressing into her belly, she didn’t feel awkward at all. She felt hot, almost itchy, like her skin was too tight and she wanted to rub herself all over him. There was an ache deep inside of her, and she knew exactly what was supposed to fill it even though she didn’t know how it would feel.

His tongue slid into her mouth, his hand moving down to cup her bottom, and Arabella moaned as heat and need shot through her. It felt like her skin had become exquisitely sensitive.

When Thomas’ lips pulled away from hers, she almost protested, but instead of really pulling away he was just moving them… across her jawline… to her neck… goodness, she’d had no idea her neck was so sensitive. She tipped her head back, giving him full access to her throat, clinging to his shoulders as he left a line of burning kisses across
her skin.

“What did your friends tell you about tonight?” He murmured the question, his voice deep and sensual.

Arabella blinked, trying to think as his hands began to roam along with his mouth. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy and her entire body shuddered as the hand not caressing her bottom cupped her right breast.

“Um… oh my… they said… they said you would put your cock in me… in my… between my legs,” she managed to get out, suddenly feeling shy. At least, shy about using any of the words she might use for exactly where he was going to put his cock. “And maybe my mouth… my bottom…”

The hand on her bottom tightened immediately, pulling her even harder against him as he moaned against the sensitive skin between her shoulder and her neck. She shuddered as he rocked his hips against her, very aware of exactly how much he liked that idea. Arabella was almost sorry she’d brought it up – the reports from the other ladies had been mixed at best.

Yet Thomas’ reaction almost made her want to try…

Somehow the idea seemed much more appealing in this moment, while she was in his arms, feeling the full force of his ardor.

“Anything else?” he asked, practically grating the words out.

The words slipped out of her mouth then. Words she definitely hadn’t meant to say, because she still thought her friends were mad for their insistence it could be fun, even enjoyable.

“They said you might spank me,” she whispered. “And that I might like it.”

About Angel
Angel is a self-described bibliophile with a “kinky” bent who loves to write stories for the characters in her head. If she didn’t get them out, she’s pretty sure she’d go just a little crazy.

She is happily married, old enough to know better but still too young to care, and a big fan of happily-ever-afters, strong heroes and heroines, and sizzling chemistry.

She believes the world is a better place when there’s a little magic in it.

Find Angel Online!
Goodreads → http://bit.ly/2rt4rdL
Facebook → http://bit.ly/2Ds7c0e

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The Sinister Silhouette


Title: The Sinister Silhouette
Author: Alex Grayson
Genre: Romance

 

Publication Date: May 25th, 2018

Blurb:
“Luca…”
She whispers my name at night, filling my dreams with her haunting beauty.
Her tormented amber eyes beg me for something I don’t understand, and her agonizing pain becomes my own.
For years, she’s come to me, calling my name.
For years, I’ve never known who she was.
Until now…
Alex Grayson is the bestselling author of heart pounding, emotionally gripping contemporary romance including the Jaded Series, the Consumed Series, and two standalone novels. Her passion for books was reignited by a gift from her sister-in-law. After spending several years as a devoted reader and blogger, Alex decided to write and independently publish her first novel in 2014 (an endeavor that took a little longer than expected). 

The rest, as they say, is history.
Originally a southern girl, Alex now lives in Ohio with her husband, two children, two cats and dog. She loves the color blue, homemade lasagna, casually browsing real estate, and interacting with her readers. Visit her website, http://www.alexgraysonbooks.com, or find her on social media!

Author Links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2rye7RI
MY EYES FLICKER OPEN when I hear a thump. The first thing I see are my hands still laced together over my stomach. When I lift my head, a dull pain resonates in my neck from staying in the same position for so long. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and twist it from side to side, loosening the muscles.
When I scoot my ass back in the seat, I notice the nurse call remote has fallen to the floor. I pick it up, then stand to wind it around one of the rails to keep it from slipping off again.
My body locks in place and my jaw damn near falls to the floor when I look at Jules. She’s lying there with her eyes wide fucking open looking at the ceiling. The first thing I notice is the brilliant color of her eyes. Just like in my dreams, they’re a bright golden amber. She blinks slowly a couple times. She must not see me, because she keeps looking at the ceiling like it’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.
I hold still, not wanting to startle her, but also desperately wanting her eyes directed at me.
Swallowing to wet my suddenly dry throat, I murmur softly, “Jules.”
Her lips part. She blinks a couple more times before her head slowly turns in my direction. The minute her eyes lock on mine, a rush of air leaves my lungs. Fuck, but they are striking.
I don’t get a chance to enjoy her eyes being on me before they fill with fear. I frown, confused at the stark terror forming on her face. I reach out a hand to her to try to quell the fear but drop it when her lips tremble. Her hands clutch the sides of her head as her mouth opens and she lets out a god-awful scream. I stumble back a step and knock into the chair, stunned at her hysterical behavior. She starts thrashing on the bed, her legs kicking the blanket off her as she presses herself as close to the railing as she can to get away from me. The whole time, her wide eyes stay connected with my astonished ones, like she’s accusing me of something.
A nurse rushes in, and I numbly step to the side to give her room. Another rushes in seconds later with a doctor following closely behind. They both go to the other side of the bed.
“NO!” Jules screams over and over again, clutching her head. “NONONO!”
The ache in my chest that’s always present in my dreams is back, except it’s ten times worse. The pain I feel seeing her suffer in the flesh makes the pain of seeing her suffer in my dreams feel like a fucking paper cut. It’s agonizing and all-consuming and takes my damn breath away.
I want nothing more than to go to her, to hold her against me, and make all her fears go away, but it’s me she fears, and that thought tears me apart.
“Mr. Hendrix, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I ignore the nurse trying to usher me out of the room. I can’t take my eyes off Jules as she fights the doctor and nurses. They yell back and forth to each other as they try to calm her down. I grow angry when they hold her down and stick a needle into her IV. I force my legs to hold still, instead of rushing over and yanking them away. I know they’re professionals and only trying to help her, but I still don’t fucking like it.
“Mr. Hendrix.” The nurse tries again, grabbing my arm. “Theo!”
It’s the use of my brother’s name that has me ripping my eyes away from the distraught girl in the bed. I stare down at the nurse, and her eyes soften in sympathy. “Please, just wait outside until the doctor calms down your wife and assesses her. He’ll come talk to you as soon as he can.”
I don’t correct her on her mistake of thinking I’m my brother. I just give her a stiff nod before looking back at Jules one more time. She’s no longer screaming due to the medicine now running through her veins, but her eyes are still on me. Tears fall from them, soaking the pillow beneath her head, and it makes me want to fall to my knees and scream.
Instead, with one final look and my chest feeling hollow, I turn on my heel and leave the room.

 

Red

Title: Red

Series: A Brett MacLean Duet #1

Author: JM Walker

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: May 7

It started without trust. Passion. Lust. An all-consuming need; that was all we had in the beginning.
Lies. Betrayal. Deceit. We moved past it all and fell in love anyway.
Over ten years later, with a family of our own, our little world was perfect. Happy.
But then that happiness faded away when she came into our lives.
No control. No power. Just heartbreak and unwanted submission.
We were forced to our knees at the sight of her. The words falling from her lips were like nails digging at our soul because we knew.
We would have to go through hell to get out of this.
And even then, I wasn’t sure if it would be enough.

Prologue

Brett

Our world ended when she came into our lives. No control. No power. Just heartbreak and unwanted submission. We were forced to our knees at the sight of her. The words falling from her lips were like nails digging at our soul because we knew there was no way out of this.

It wasn’t her fault. None of it was. She was a lowly pawn in this fucked up world we called life. There was nothing any of us could do but wait.

Ever since I was a small boy, I had made it my mission to be in control of everything around me. My career. Women. Sex. Money. Alcohol. I strived to be an asshole so no one could get into my heart.

And then she appeared.

Short. Blonde, curly hair. Deep blue eyes that looked into my very soul and knew my secrets before I ever told her.

Evvie Neal was my one, my only.

I tried so hard to be in control when really, she was the Master and I was the ever-willing slave. She captured my heart, reached inside my chest and brought it back to life just by the sound of her laugh.

But as soon as we were happy, as soon as we let our guard down, the foundation of our love cracked.

We worked damn hard for it and I would do everything in my power to build up the walls of our love and make her happy again.

Even if it meant leaving.

For good.

J.M. Walker is an Amazon bestselling author who loves all things books, pigs and lip gloss. She is happily married to the man who inspires all of her Heroes and continues to make her weak in the knees every single day.

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Sombra (Love in Translation Book 2) by #LeslieMcAdam

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Sombra (Love in Translation Book 2)

Publication Date: April 30, 2018

Sombra by Leslie McAdam releases on APRIL 30th!
Keep reading for an excerpt!

PREORDER NOW:

Amazon ➤ http://amzn.to/2GT958u
All other Retailers ➤ https://www.books2read.com/u/4AwyoJ

Everything in moderation. Including virtue.

I step off the plane in Madrid and meet his warm eyes. His crooked smile. His devastating charm.
Worse, he’s courteous. Honorable. Sensuous. Impossibly attractive.
Tavo awakens my desires—my body—without even touching it.
I don’t want to be attracted to him. I’ve made my promises.
My future has already been determined. I’m wearing a ring.
But I can’t control this pull to him.
He wants to explore my shadows.
I want to get out of the light.
I shouldn’t feel this way…
Problem is, I can’t restrain my heart.

EXCERPT:

Prologue

From the shadows, he emerges. The small pool of olive oil on his hands glistens in the candlelight and drips on the tile floor through his fingers.

Decadent.

Hedonistic.

Dark.

I glimpse his face as he approaches the bed, and he’s grinning wickedly, his hair messy and wild. Bare feet on a cold floor. Shirt off. Jeans unbuttoned, with a thatch of groomed pubic hair peeking out, his root showing.

My body tingles and gooseflesh erupts on my arms and legs.

His appraising eyes slowly, languidly, take in my form.

And I love it. I absolutely love the way he looks at me, like he’s appreciating every freckle, every hair follicle, every curve. My painted toes. My voluptuous calves. My ample thighs. And on up.

Another drip of olive oil plops on the floor. Part of me thinks it’s a waste. The other part of me loves this game.

The wait, the watching, makes me pant, and I breathe faster and faster as he comes closer. My skin’s glowing in his dim room.

What surprise does he have for me this time?

The mystery. I love the mystery and anticipation. I don’t know what’s coming next. I don’t know the plan.

I have no idea what pleasures are in store for me tonight, but I’m sure they’re coming.

He knows what he does to me. He knows I’m resisting writhing on the crisp, rough sheets, which are crackly from drying on a line out back in the cold, wintry Andalusian sun. We’ll soften them soon enough when our bodies join together, but right now they’re almost like brittle sandpaper, chafing my skin.

With a bite of his lip, trying to control his smile, he rubs his hands together, making a suction sound from the lubrication. The oil smells fruity, green—if you could smell a color—and bitter.

I’ve licked it on his skin enough times to know its taste. The complexity of the flavors. How just a drop on the tongue can make me want so much.

I love it.

Even though I shouldn’t.

My eyes stay on his hands. I’m obsessed with them, especially his callouses. Over time, they’ve built up on the pads of his palms, right next to where his fingers begin. The telltale sign of a life lived working outside, although it’s not what he wants. Sometimes his rough patches crack and bleed, a hazard of using a rake to beat the olives out of the trees.

A hazard of using his hands.

Those hands, those scratchy callouses now skim down my naked body, half-lit in the dark room, leaving a trail of oil. My hair splays across the pillow. His light touch makes my nipples point up. My pulse pound. My body ache. I arch up into his fingers, wanting more. Needing more.

Needing him.

We shouldn’t be doing this. This isn’t how my life is supposed to be.

But nothing can stop our desire.

ADD TO YOUR TBR ➤ http://bit.ly/2C1jYBz

About the Author

Leslie McAdam is a California girl who loves romance, Little Dude, and well-defined abs. She lives in a drafty old farmhouse on a small orange tree farm in Southern California with her husband and two small children. Leslie always encourages her kids to be themselves – even if it means letting her daughter wear leopard print from head to toe. An avid reader from a young age, she will always trade watching TV for reading a book, unless it’s Top Gear. Or football. Leslie is employed by day but spends her nights writing about the men you fantasize about. She’s unapologetically sarcastic and notoriously terrible at comma placement (that’s what editors are for!). Always up for a laugh, Leslie tries to see humor in all things. When she’s not in the writing cave you’ll find her fangirling over Beck, camping with her family, or mixing up oil paints to depict her love of outdoors on canvas.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lesliemcadamauthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/LeslieMcAdam
Website: http://www.lesliemcadamauthor.com/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2qj9LL4
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14542197.Leslie_McAdam
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/981750415193781/

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Screwing the Mob

Title: Screwing the Mob
Author: Kristen Luciani
Genre: Mafia Romance
Publication Date: June 12th, 2018
Cover Designer: Dark City Designs
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:

When the allure of the forbidden takes a deadly turn…
Shaye
He never cared about me. He never would. He was always on the take, but this time he took too much.
I betrayed my family tonight. I lost my virginity tonight. I was ready to give it all up tonight.
I loved him, and he treated me like I was no better than the dirt on the bottom of his Louboutin loafer. Big mistake. One thought makes me smile through the hot tears streaming down my face.
I could have him killed.
Nico
I only wanted to f*ck her. I tried to convince myself that’s all it was. But I’m a damn liar. I lied to myself about how I feel, and I lied to her when I told her I wanted her to leave.
I didn’t. I wanted her…no, needed her…to stay.
Now I’m dodging calls from her maniacal brother, who, if he found out I’d so much as seen her in that sexy as hell lingerie, would wrap his beefy hands around my throat and squeeze until my eyeballs popped out of the sockets.
Kristen Luciani is a USA Today bestselling author and momtrepreneur with a penchant for stilettos, Silicon Valley, plunging necklines and grapefruit martinis. As a deep-rooted romantic who prefers juicy drama to fill the lives of anyone other than her, she tried her hand at creating a world of enchantment, sensuality, and intrigue, finally uncovering her true passion. No pun intended…
Author Links:
Pre-Order Links:
Books2Read – http://bit.ly/2HgVbfH

Let Me Know When It’s Live–>https://bit.ly/2HBu3th
A shiver runs through me despite the blast of heat from the hallway floor vent that toasts my quivering legs. I reach out, my fist about half an inch from the bedroom door, poised to knock. Wait, why? He knows I’m coming. He left the front door unlocked for me. Jesus, I can’t even think straight anymore. Memories pop between my ears like bullets. Me sitting on Nico’s bed, watching a video on his iPad, Nico’s hand skimming my bare arm, Nico’s lips on mine, Nico’s tongue…
Stop!
What the hell is wrong with me? His grandfather just died, and all I can do is think about that night…the one that never should have happened, the one I continue to dream about, the one I relive every time I close my eyes.
Forget the fact that I hadn’t heard from him since.
And that he’s my brother’s best friend.
And that he has 1-800-Hoebags on speed dial.
Nico Salesi will never be mine, and I’ve come to terms with that. Kind of.
I’d hoped to accept it once I got to college, but that didn’t happen. None of the guys I’d met could hold a candle to Nico. I couldn’t find the same pools of the darkest chocolate brown that begged me to drown in them, the ones that sparkled with excitement over the release of a new Marvel super hero movie, ones that deepened with lust when they gazed at me. And I definitely couldn’t find a pair of lips as bitable, ones that tasted like a wide variety of Jolly Rancher flavors, ones I wanted plastered against my own…and then on other areas—
I grasp the cool brass doorknob in my shaking hand and twist it. The door creaks open, and I squint in the dimly lit room. His bed is in the back corner of the expansive space, and he’s sprawled out on his back, tossing a football up and down. He doesn’t look up, and that should be my first clue that he doesn’t give a flying fuck about me. I clench my fists, trying to control my disappointment.
He never called, never texted, never emailed. Not until today, and of course, I come running the second he asks. I never fail to make the wrong choices.
He doesn’t care about anything except his business dealings. He’d never let anything compromise his place in life, least of all me.
It was a kiss. I have to forget about it. It’s not why I’m here. I’m here for Grandpa Vito, not for Nico.
Maybe if I keep repeating those bullshit lies, I’ll finally convince my heart that they’re true.
I inch toward the bed, my heart thudding against my ribcage. I can feel beads of perspiration pop up along the back of my neck, a typical reaction to his presence. My stomach is twisted like a Bavarian pretzel. Good God, will I ever be able to get over this guy?
And why doesn’t he stop throwing the fucking football? He’s the one who called me.
And just like that, he makes one final catch and sits up. His eyes aren’t sparkling. They’re dark, lost, empty. Soulless. The vacant stare makes my chest tighten and I stop, uncertain about my next steps.
He slides off the bed and creeps toward me. His dark hair is tousled, like he’d just woken up from a fitful sleep. There are bags under his eyes, and his normally rosy cheeks are all but drained of color.
Tears sting my eyes when his hands grasp my shoulders. “Shaye,” he murmurs in his deep, gravelly voice.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “He was such a good man, and I feel terrible for you all.”
His hands move to my hair, twisting a hot pink tendril of hair around his index finger. “You dyed your hair.”
My hand flies to the chunky streaks I’d just had added to the ends of my blonde hair. “Yeah…” I breathe him in, immediately tipsy on the scent of watermelon Jolly Ranchers.
“I like it.”
“Thanks,” I whisper.
He nods over to his desk. “He bought that for you for Christmas. It’s the collector’s edition.”
A sob rises in my throat when my eyes fall to the gift, memories of our marathon Scrabble sessions wallpapering my mind. It felt like a lifetime ago, when things were so simple and the biggest dilemma I had was to decide which word would yield me the most points during our cutthroat games. “I love it. I’ll always treasure it.”
“He missed you at Christmas. Made me promise to get it to you before you went back to school.”
“I should have gone to see him. I’ll never forgive myself for not saying goodbye.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it. He knew the deal, Shaye.”
“I hate that it kept me away.”
“But you’re here now.”
“Yeah…” My heart is pounding like a jackhammer, drowning out all sound, and I almost miss his reply. A lump the size of a golf ball has taken up residence in my throat and squeezing out a response is near impossible.
But, as it happens, talk is overrated.
He pulls me close, bending down to press his swollen lips to mine – hot, intense, and hungry for any crumb I’m willing to drop. His strong hands fist my long hair, his kiss deepening with need. I wrap my arms around his tall, muscular frame, melting into his warmth.
My mind is screaming at me to pull away, to stop this craziness. This behavior is so unlike Nico. He never loses control or shows his hand. It’s why he’s such a valuable asset to the family.
He doesn’t really want me.
Or does he?

 

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Cheeky Royal (Royals Undercover Book 1) by #NanaMalone

249 monday 16th

Cheeky Royal (Royals Undercover Book 1)

Publication Date: April 2, 2018

Cheeky Royal by Nana Malone is AVAILABLE NOW!
Keep reading for an excerpt and PREORDER Cheeky Royal Now!

“Nana Malone delivers royal-worthy chemistry in a snappy, page-turning package. Penny and Prince Sebastian are everything! Give us the next book now!”
—Max Monroe, New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

Amazon → http://amzn.to/2F8UJ6A
iBooks → https://apple.co/2I1UIiO
Nook → http://bit.ly/2I1leJ3
Kobo → http://bit.ly/2HYGi2K
Google → http://bit.ly/2I33ywu

All they want is everything they can’t have.

Penny…

Yes, yes, I’ve heard the rumors.
The prince is royal, and cocky and has a—well never mind about all that.
The problem is, he’s also my job.
When the King called on me to retrieve the wayward prince, I was ready to walk away.
Then I caught my boyfriend cheating—and suddenly leaving never felt like a better idea.

Sebastian…

I never wanted the throne.
When I left behind my gilded cage of a palace, it all sounded so simple: find my long-lost brother & make him the prince so I don’t have to rule the kingdom like my father expects.
Then I meet my new neighbor, and quickly realize I’ve found the queen of my heart—and bed.
Just one problem, I can’t let her find out who I really am.

ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2FRpdHt

EXCERPT:

I shook my head. “No. This guy just didn’t seem to understand my disinterest in him. And when I put my drink down, I accidentally kneed him in the balls.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “You accidentally kneed him in the balls?”
The guy was still moaning on his knees.
”Yeah, I didn’t mean to do it.” I blinked my eyes as innocently as I could. Then the unthinkable happened. Sebastian’s arm went around me, and his voice went low and deadly as he addressed the guy on the floor still howling and holding the family jewels. “Listen to me. She’s a friend of mine. If I see you near her again, I’ll make your life very difficult. What she did to you on accident will seem like a walk in the park.”
When he pulled me closer, I tipped my head up to glance at him, eyes wide. I was unprepared for what happened next. Sebastian squeezed me tightly, and I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. He leaned over and brushed his lips against mine.
Oh God.
Holy. Shitballs. On. A. Cracker. Pussy down. Pussy down!
The kiss was electric, hot, and quick. And then it was over so soon I couldn’t be sure it had happened. His electric blue gaze bore into mine before he whispered, “Like I said. She’s mine.”
He let go of me then, and I had to work hard to fight the feeling of emptiness.
Yeah, that’s right dumbass, you’re not actually his.

Grab the FREE PREQUEL, Cheeky Prince:

Amazon → http://amzn.to/2DPfEWM
iBooks → https://apple.co/2G8bF9G
Nook → http://bit.ly/2DPaaeK
Kobo → http://bit.ly/2FXQHyp
Google Play → http://bit.ly/2pyHHoz

From USA Today Bestselling Author Nana Malone, comes a sexy, royal novella.

What Good is a Throne if the King Isn’t Worthy…
Before I was a King…
Before I was known for my naked hot tub antics…
Before my neighbor turned my world upside down…
I was a Cheeky Prince.

PREORDER Cheeky King:

Amazon → http://amzn.to/2CY5dzP
iBooks → https://apple.co/2FnXY9T
Nook → http://bit.ly/2H1uADm
Kobo → http://bit.ly/2tagBJu
Google → http://bit.ly/2oFyjj3

What good is a King without his Queen?

Sebastian…

I never wanted the crown, but now it’s mine.
Instead of my freedom–instead of her.
But even though she’s not mine to keep, I can’t seem to stay away.

Penny…

The moment he became king, I knew we were over.
Now I’ve returned home some kind of conquering hero.
If only they all knew that we’d both lost our hearts.
If only I could stay out of the royal bed.

What good is being cocky if you can’t get what you want?

ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2H4kxxt

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling Author, NANA MALONE’s love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she borrowed from her cousin on a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana at a precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick butt heroines ever since.

With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters. Waiting for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, Nana, meantime works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.

The books in her series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble best seller lists as well as the iTunes Breakout Books list and most notably the USA Today Bestseller list.

Until that ninja job comes through, you’ll find Nana working hard on additional books for her series as well as other fun, sassy romances for characters that won’t leave her alone. And if she’s not working or hiding in the closet reading, she’s acting out scenes for her husband, daughter and puppy in sunny San Diego.

Want to hit me up? Just email me: nana@nanamaloneromance.com

Connect with Nana:
Website: http://nanamaloneromance.net/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nanamalonewriter/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2FrkDze
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2lQFmnX

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