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EXCERPT REVEAL – BOMBSHELL by C.D. Reiss

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Bombshell, an all-new sexy and swoony standalone from CD Reiss is coming May 1st!

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Bombshell by CD Reiss
Publication Date: May 1st, 2017
Publisher: Montlake
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis:

Hollywood bad boy Brad Sinclair always gets his way, whether it’s the role he wants or the bikini-clad model he has to have. But when a bombshell gets dropped in his lap in the form of a dimpled five-year-old from a forgotten relationship, he knows his life is about to change forever.

Cara DuMont isn’t exactly thrilled when she gets assigned to be the nanny for the latest box-office king. She has one rule: no celebrity fathers, especially single ones with devilish good looks and rock-hard abs.

But as soon as Cara meets Brad and his adorable little girl, she knows she’s in for a world of trouble. Because there’s something about the way Brad looks at her that makes her believe that some rules are meant to be broken…

Excerpt:

He was tapping on my bedroom window. It was 2:17 in the morning.

I got out of bed, dressed in sweatpants and black T-shirt and slapped the window open. He practically fell through it, adorable in his wet tuxedo and red eyes.

“You’re drunk.”

“I like you. I want you to like me.”

“Go to bed.”

He leaned back out the window, paused. “Do you like me?”

“Against my better judgment, I do.”

“Okay.”

He was so drunk he could barely stand.

“Please go to bed.”

He gave me a salute and walked right through a sprinkler, toward the front house. I closed the window. Brad was lying in the grass facedown, arms and legs in a big X, getting sprinkled on.

I could leave him out there.

I could, he deserved it. But I couldn’t.

I put on sneakers and a hoodie and went outside. He was face-first in a mud puddle. The sprinklers had shut off.

“Brad?”

He didn’t move. I pulled his arm until he was on his back, then pulled both wrists and pulled forward. If I’m making it sound easy, it wasn’t. I slipped and fell in wet grass, and grunted like a tennis player. But I got him to sitting. Half his gorgeous face was dotted with mud.

“Brad?”

No answer. I slapped him. Nothing. Slapped again, harder. He groaned.

Then I pulled my arm back and really hauled off and whacked him.

“Ow.”

“You have to wake up. I can’t carry you.”

“That hurt.”

I crouched, getting my shoulder under his arm.

“Okay, I’m going to count to three. On three, stand up.”

“Do you know you’re beautiful?”

“One.”

“And you smell like a fruit cup.”

“Two.”

He looked at me, the weight of his head tilting his face at an angle to mine.

“You’re the queen of the house.”

“Three.”

We lurched up. Took a step left. Adjusted. Stood steady.

“Can I just sleep here?”

“No. Nicole isn’t going to find your drunk ass on the lawn in the morning. Lean on me.”

We took one step forward, then two. I held his wrist with one hand and his waist with the other. The front of his tuxedo shirt was brown with mud. I got wet wherever his clothes touched me.

“Do you have fantasies, ever?” He hopped onto a new subject as if it was completely natural.

“Like about what?” I asked. His arm around me, his breath soft in my ear. Even his dependence was kind of a fantasy.

“You know what bothers me about fantasies?”

“Watch this chair here. Whoa.” I pulled him left, narrowly missing tripping over a lounger.

“You never know if you’re getting it right,” he said.

I turned to him, and found his eyes taking up my entire field of vision and my nose two inches from his.

“Like when I fantasize about fucking you.”

We almost tripped on the entrance. I swallowed my lungs, stomach, and heart in one gulp. He was drunk. He didn’t mean it. He never thought about fucking me.

Not Brad Sinclair.

He was my boss.

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About the Author

CD Reiss is a New York Times bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up she’s at the well hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

She’s frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn’t ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

Connect with CD Reiss:

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LIVE – THE TROPHY WIFE by Alessandra Torre

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TROPHY WIFE - EBOOK COVER v1

Everyone in Nashville knows Nathan Dumont. That’s what happens when you develop half a town and sleep with the rest.

Four years ago, his fiancee disappeared.

Last night, he proposed to me.

I’d wanted to escape my life, the seedy strip club and the mountain of bills. I had seized the opportunity to live in a mansion, fill my days with country clubs and caviar, my nights with romance and sex.

Maybe I should have done my homework first.

The Trophy Wife is a standalone erotic romance. It is approximately 70,000 words. An earlier edition of this book was previously released in 2013 under the name The Dumont Diaries, this is an expanded and rewritten edition of that novel, with over 50 pages of new content.

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Author Photo Alessandra Torre is an award-winning New York Times bestselling author of fourteen novels. Her books focus on romance and suspense, all with a strong undercurrent of sexuality. Torre has been featured in such publications as Elle and Elle UK, co-hosted Dirty Sexy Funny with Jenny McCarthy, as well as guest blogged for the Huffington Post and RT Book Reviews. She has also served as the Bedroom Blogger for Cosmopolitan.com.
You can learn more about Alessandra on her website at www.alessandratorre.com, or you can find her on Twitter (@ReadAlessandra) or Facebook.
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LIVE – DAMNABLE GRACE (Hades Hangmen #5) by Tillie Cole

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EVEN THE BROKEN, THROUGH LOVE, CAN FIND GRACE…

Secrets never stay hidden.

The burden of guilt never lifts from the heart.

Born and raised in The Order of David, Sister Phebe knows nothing but cult life. Head of the Sacred Sisters of New Zion, Phebe was groomed from childhood for one purpose: to seduce. Prized as a harlot, as a New Zion whore, Phebe is taken from the doomed cult by Meister, the notorious leader of the Aryan Brotherhood. Taken as his possession. Taken to be the woman who will obey his every sexual demand. Under his heavy hand, Phebe finds herself in a place much worse than she could ever have imagined… with absolutely no one to help. And no glimpse of hope.

Xavier ‘AK’ Deyes is content with his life as Sergeant-At-Arms of the Hades Hangmen. Leader of the infamous ‘Psycho Trio’ and ex-special ops sniper, AK knows how to fight. Experienced in warfare and schooled in military operations, AK is vital to the Hangmen. When his Vice President needs help retrieving his missing sister-in-law, Phebe, from a Klan-funded trafficking ring, AK volunteers to go in. AK remembers the redhead from New Zion. Remembers everything about her from the single time they met—her red hair, blue eyes and freckled face. But when he finds her, heavily drugged and under Meister’s control, her sorry condition causes him to remember more than the beautiful woman he once tied to a tree. Saving Phebe forces hidden demons from his past to return. A past he can never move on from, no matter how hard he tries.

As AK fights to help Phebe, and in turn she strives to help him, they realize their secret sins will never leave them alone. Kindred broken souls, they realize the only way they can be rid of their ghosts is to face them together and try to find peace.

Despair soon turns to hope, and damaged hearts soon start to heal. But when their deep, painful scars resurface, becoming too much to bear, the time comes when they must make a heavy choice: stay forever damned; or together, find grace.

Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and very mature topics. Recommended for age 18 and over.

Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.
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LIVE – WALK OF SHAME (Love Unexpectedly #4) by Lauren Layne

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The City’s HOTTEST Cold War is here!
WALK OF SHAME
a Love Unexpectedly novel
Lauren Layne
Releasing April 18th, 2017
Loveswept

 

Sparks
fly between a misunderstood New York socialite and a cynical divorce lawyer in
this lively standalone rom-com from the USA Today bestselling
author of Blurred Lines and Love Story.
 
Pampered
heiress Georgianna Watkins has a party-girl image to maintain, but all the
shopping and clubbing is starting to feel a little bit hollow—and a whole lot
lonely. Though Georgie would never admit it, the highlights of her week are the
mornings when she comes home at the same time as her uptight, workaholic
neighbor is leaving to hit the gym and put in a long day at the office. Teasing
him is the most fun Georgie’s had in years—and the fuel for all her naughtiest
daydreams.
Celebrity
divorce attorney Andrew Mulroney doesn’t have much time for women, especially
spoiled tabloid princesses who spend more time on Page Six than at an actual
job. Although Georgie’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s also everything Andrew
resents: the type of girl who inherited her penthouse instead of earning it.
But after Andrew caps one of their predawn sparring sessions with a surprise
kiss—a kiss that’s caught on camera—all of Manhattan is gossiping about whether
they’re a real couple. And nobody’s more surprised than Andrew to find that the
answer just might be yes.
 
WRAPPED UP IN READING’s REVIEW OF WALK OF SHAME
 
EXCERPT

And who is he, you ask?

Andrew Mulroney, Esquire.

I know this because we moved into the building on the exact same day, and right before we got into a horrendous fight over whose movers should have access to the building loading dock first, he handed me his business card.

The thick white card stock declared that he had a fancy law degree to go along with the fancy suit he was wearing on a Saturday.

Andrew handed it over with such superiority, I actually wished for a half second that I had a business card of my own that would somehow be better than his. Like, lined with gold or something. No, platinum. With a diamond in the corner. It would be too heavy for him to hold, and he’d drop it, thus having to kneel at my feet to pick it up.

But then I realized it was just as well that I didn’t have a business card.

Because it would say . . . what? Georgie Watkins, professional party girl?

Anyway, I digress. Despite the high temps of that swampy July morning, the encounter had been the start of an epic cold war.

Me, the socialite in apartment 86A against the uptight esquire in apartment 79B.

I’m not entirely sure I’m winning the war, but I’ll never tell him that.

I let my gaze drift over Andrew, even though his appearance rarely holds any surprises. The man’s a lesson in sameness, like some sort of anal-retentive version of Groundhog Day.

There’s always the black mug with some healthy gunk inside held in his right hand, Tom Ford briefcase and Armani garment bag in his left, containing what I know to be a perfectly tailored three-piece suit.

Andrew’s coppery hair is perfectly styled, although I’d swear that there’s some natural curl in there threatening to disrupt his perfect order. I imagine that annoys him, so it therefore makes me happy.

Let’s see, what else about my nemesis?

He’s got a hard, unfriendly jawline that’s perfectly shaven.

Dark brown eyes, cold and flat. Black gym bag over one shoulder.

I suppose you could say he changes up his attire, because he does alternate between black and gray gym shirts. But considering that they seem to be the exact same fit, both colors molding perfectly to his impressively sculpted upper body, we’re not giving him any points for variety there.

Same goes for the lower half. The black shorts worn in summer have given way to sleek black sweatpants now that October’s upon us, but they’re both black and Nike, so we’ll give him no credit for changing it up there either.

The shoes, though . . .

I do a double take.

Well, well, well . . .

Instead of the usual black gym shoes, the man’s shoes are red. I don’t know how I missed it before.

I drag my eyes back up his body with a grin, and he gives just the slightest roll of his eyes to indicate that he’s noticed my slow perusal and isn’t fazed in the least.

“You went shopping, Dorothy!” I say happily.

He stares at me. “I don’t shop.”

Of course not. Far too frivolous.

“No, that makes sense,” I say, pointing at his feet. “Glinda would have given these to you.”

Andrew looks down at his Rolex watch. “I’ve got to go. Have a good day, Mr. Ramirez.”

“You too, Mr. Mulroney,” Ramon says with a deferential nod. “Enjoy your workout.”

“Yes, do,” I say, turning and watching as Andrew moves toward the front door of our building. “What’s on the schedule today? Treadmill, or just skipping down the Yellow Brick Road?”

Andrew Mulroney, Esquire, doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even turn before pushing through the revolving doors and stepping out into the still-dark autumn morning.

Now come on. Tell me that wasn’t at least a little bit fun, despite the ungodly hour.

 

Lauren
Layne is the New York Times bestselling author of over a dozen
romantic comedies.
 
A former
e-commerce and web marketing manager from Seattle, Lauren relocated to New York
City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career.
 
She lives
in midtown Manhattan with her high-school sweetheart, where she writes smart
romantic comedies with just enough sexy-times to make your mother blush. In
LL’s ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry
a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books. 
 

 

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LIVE – THE HOT SHOT (Game On #4) by Kristen Callihan

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the hot shot AN

 

 

 

 

TheHotShot Amazon-2First we were friends. Then we were roommates. Now I want more…

What can I say about Chess Copper? The woman is capable of bringing me to my knees. I know this about five minutes after getting naked for her.

No one is more surprised than me. The prickly photographer my team hired to shoot our annual charity calendar isn’t my usual type. She’s defense to my offense, a challenge at every turn. But when I’m with her, all the regrets and darkness goes away. She makes life fun.

I want to know Chess, be close to her. Which is a bad idea.

Chess is looking for a relationship. I’ve never given a woman more than one night. But when fate leaves Chess without a home, I step up and offer her mine. We’re roommates now. Friends without benefits. But it’s getting harder to keep our hands off each other. And the longer we live together the more I realize she’s becoming my everything.

Trick is… Now that I’ve made her believe I’m a bad bet, how do I convince her to give this player a true shot at forever?

 

 

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FINN

 

She sits quietly as I eat, and shakes her head when I offer her a sandwich section. Because I’m hungry, and because I don’t like the idea of her having to wait for me to eat, I wolf down my food. The brownie follows with a few, quick bites.

Wiping my hands on a napkin, I set the plate and empty can on a side table, and then let out a contented sigh. “Thanks. I needed that.”

Her smile is small and quick. “I should have fed you as soon as you got here.”

“I’m good now.”

Chess braces her hands on the seat and leans forward to watch her feet as we slowly rock the swing. Silence descends, thick and awkward, and for the first time in her presence, I’m at a loss for words.

I don’t know this girl. Not really, and yet I’ve inserted myself into her life with a determination I usually reserve for winning games. Except I have no endgame here. I told her I want to be friends. But how does that work for us?

Our friends and lives couldn’t be any more different. Parties for me are self-congratulatory events, filled with people whose one focus seems to be bolstering my ego, followed by me searching for a quick hookup. And my friends are all part of football in some way. We talk football or sports. It’s a narrow focus life, but it’s my comfort zone. That chafes too, knowing I live a life that seems wild and free to outsiders but is actually small and structured on the inside.

The silence has stretched too long. I should go. But I don’t move. If I go, I know it will be the end of whatever this is. Embarrassment will have me avoiding seeking her out again. Likely, she’ll do the same. And that will be that.

The knowledge sits like a stone on my chest.

“I’m sorry about my friends,” Chess says. “They can be uncomfortably brazen.”

“So can mine.” I shrug. “Your friends are…fun.”

Her lips pull tight. “They can be. But they were definitely giving me—and by extension—you shit tonight.” She bites her bottom lip. “I don’t think they know what to make of you.”

“So I wasn’t imagining things.”

“’Fraid not.”

The novel sensation of being a fish tossed into the wrong pond grows. I’ve taken away Chess’s fun by coming here, and I’m sorry for it.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come here,” Chess says in a low voice.

She’s only echoing my thoughts but the stone sitting on my chest pushes harder against my ribs.

Chess makes a small sound, as if she’s trying to laugh but can’t. “Parties suck when you arrive halfway through and don’t know anyone.”

“I know you,” I point out quietly.

She turns and the porch light illuminates her face. Green eyes met mine and hold, as a slow, true smile curls over her cherry lips. Something inside of me shifts and slides. I want to kiss Chester Copper. Haul her onto my lap and make out with her like we’re teenagers hiding out at our parents’ party. But that’s not what she invited me here for.

“I wanted to see you,” she confesses in that husky morning voice that goes straight to my cock. She turns away and stares out into the darkness. “It’s weird, you know? But hanging out with you was so unexpected it kind of felt like I imagined the whole thing.”

I know exactly what she means. My hand settles next to hers, close enough that our pinkies touch. That small point of contact sparks along my skin, makes me want to move closer. I hold steady because I don’t trust myself not to act. “I wanted to see you too,” I tell her. “It’s been a long fucking day.”

I hadn’t planned to admit that, but it feels good to tell her.

Chess eases back against the seat and then curls her fingers over mine with a light squeeze. The unexpected touch holds all my attention. It’s nothing more than a simple offer of comfort, and here I am twitching in my seat as if she’d cupped my dick instead. I’m in so much trouble here because this woman is getting to me in ways I don’t know how to navigate. But I don’t pull away. Not one fucking chance of that.

Chess speaks, pulling me attention back to our conversation. “So tell me about it.”

I can’t remember the last time anyone asked me to tell them about my day. Likely, no one ever has.

So I do. And with every word that leaves my mouth, a little bit more of my stress eases. No, I don’t yet truly know Chess. And yes, our lives are different. But there’s no way I’m ending this. Because when it’s just her and me, everything else falls away. I’m not going to let myself forget that again.

 

 

 

 

 

THS1

 

KCauthor

Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewer’s Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publisher’s Weekly and the Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book FIRELIGHT received RT Magazine’s Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal , best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.

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LIVE – THIS ISN’T FAIR, BABY (War & Peace #6) by K. Webster

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This Isn’t Fair, Baby

War & Peace Series #6
by K. Webster
Publication Date: April 18, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance

Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | Barnes & Noble | Apple | Kobo

***This is the sixth book in the series. First five books must be read in order to fully understand this story line.***

The king in my world fell and a new one slid into place.
He wasn’t just.
He wasn’t FAIR.
He was cruel and hateful and twisted.

But I had this black king figured out.
Or so I thought.

The game became complicated because my black king had some new moves and one of those involved my heart. Hope trickled in for the briefest of moments.

That is, until my black king and my heart sided against me. Those two didn’t play FAIR. They used me as their pawn in a bigger game—a game I didn’t know how to play.

The laws changed. I didn’t play by their rules anymore, for the queen makes up her own.

I am not a pawn.
I am not theirs to use and abuse.
I belong to nobody.

There are new players on the board and they don’t play FAIR either. But the white king does know how to treat his queen. And together, they will make them pay.

All’s FAIR in love and war, right?
Definitely not this time.

***Warning***
This Isn’t Fair, Baby is a dark romance. Extreme sexual themes and violence, which could trigger emotional distress, are found in this story. If you are sensitive to dark themes, then this story is not for you.

About K. Webster

K Webster2

K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!

Website: http://www.authorkwebster.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP

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LIVE – THE PLAYER by K. Bromberg

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00074]Baseball has never been sexier in an all-new novel by New York Times Bestselling Author, K. Bromberg.

Easton Wylder is baseball royalty. The game is his life. His passion. His everything.

So, when an injury threatens to end Easton’s season early, the team calls in renowned physical therapist, Doc Dalton, to oversee his recovery. Except it’s not Doc who greets Easton for his first session, but rather, his daughter, Scout. She may be feisty, athletic, defiant, and gorgeous, but Easton is left questioning whether she has what it takes to help him.

Scout Dalton’s out to prove a female can handle the pressure of running the physical therapy regimen of an MLB club. And that proof comes in the form of getting phenom Easton Wylder back on the field. But getting him healthy means being hands-on.

And with a man as irresistible as Easton, being hands-on can only lead to one thing, trouble. Because the more she touches him, the more she wants him, and she can’t want him. Not when it’s her job to maintain the club’s best interest, in regards to whether he’s ready to play.

But when sparks fly and fine lines are crossed, can they withstand the heat, or is one of them bound to get burned?

 

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HeadShot ColorNew York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, K. has sold over one million copies of her books and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times.

In April, she’ll release The Player, the first in a two-book sports romance series (The Catch, book 2, will be released late June), with many more already outlined and ready to be written.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales HERE

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LIVE – THE HOUSE MATE (Roommates #3) by Kendall Ryan

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AN_banner_WEB

 

 

 

house mate_amazonWhat’s sexier than a bad boy? A bad ass man who’s got his shit together.

Max Alexander is nearing thirty-five. He’s built a successful company, and he’s conquered the professional world, but he’s never been lucky in love. Focusing so much time on his business and raising his daughter, adulting has come at the expense of his personal life.

His social skills are shit, his patience is shot, and at times, his temper runs hot.

The last thing he has time for is the recently single, too gorgeous for her own good young woman he hires to take care of his little girl. She’s a distraction he doesn’t need, and besides, there’s no way she’d be interested. But you know what they say about assumptions?

 

This is book 3 in the Roommates series, but each book can be read as a complete standalone as they all feature new couples to fall in love with.

 

 

 

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Kendall Ryan author picA New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of more than two dozen titles, Kendall Ryan has sold over 2 million books and her books have been translated into several languages in countries around the world. Her books have also appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists more than three dozen times. Ryan has been featured in such publications as USA Today, Newsweek, and InTouch Magazine. She lives in Texas with her husband and two sons.

Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com for the latest book news, and fun extras

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BLOG TOUR – RIPPLE EFFECT: EPISODE FOUR (Ripple Effect #4) by Keri Lake

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From the author of Ricochet and Backfire comes a dark erotic suspense serial …

Episode Four: With every cause, there’s an effect, and Ripley will do everything in his power to keep Dylan safe. To hell with the consequences.

Series Synopsis:

Ripley

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

Dylan

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

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

 

Dylan
Pressure and a nip of my skin recoils my muscles.  A pinprick at my left arm tells me Randy’s shoved a needle into my veins, and the warmth that floods every muscle in my body, like a fireplace at Christmastime, has me clinging to my reality.  It’s nauseating and soothing, curling my toes at the same time I want to throw up.  Please.  I don’t want to pass out. Not while Rook’s holding those pliers.  My stomach twists and gurgles.
“Just a little cocktail I put together for you, my sweet girl.”  Randy’s voice fades in and out and he strokes my hair, only adding to the wave of comfort sweeping over me.  “It took twelve stitches to close that stab to my ribs.  So I’m going to give you twelve stitches … somewhere.”
“No.”  My voice is weak and slipping with every second.
“Tell me you love me, Dylan.”  His lips are at my ear, the crackle of his whisper growing distant.  “I can make this all go away.  Tell me you want me.  Only me.”
I roll my head against the dirty mattress they’d lain me on and moan a protest that doesn’t matter.  No one will hear me.
The moment footfalls diminish across the room, Randy’s at my ear again.  “I’ll kill him.”  He speaks so softly I can hardly hear him, even as close as he is.  “For you.  Just tell me you want me.”
Nails scrape my inner walls, and when the heel of a hand presses against my pubic bone, fingers curve up into me—a sensation that begins to fade as the drugs take hold.
“I’ll wait.  You’re gonna love this shit, Dylan.”  Randy’s voice is distant, floating all around me. “I fucking need to get inside you, baby girl.  Need it so bad.  I should’ve done this a long time ago.  You ran, though.  From me.”  A crack to my face hardly registers as the drugs start to kick in, and he strikes me again.  Same place, but I’m numb, drifting from my body into a disconnected space, away from all of this.  The same place I used to hide when my mother fucked her Johns in front of me, or when Randy took pictures in that dirty laundry room.  “You’ll never run from me again.”
A scream hammers against my skull—it’s a loud, screechy, painful sound as if someone has reached down into the depths and pulled out a soul.  Is it me?  Am I screaming for my life and I’m just so gone, I don’t recognize my own pain?  Has he already begun to use those pliers on me?
I don’t notice the pressure against my thighs as it was before when Randy’s voice breezed my ear.  
The blackness lifts, and I’m staring into dark, angry eyes—one blue, one hazel.
If I happened to be sober, the sight of him would have me crawling out of my skin as enraged as he looks with his lip peeled back in a snarl.  My head feels as if it moves in slow motion, as I look around for Rook and Randy.  They’re nowhere in sight.  Am I dreaming?  Is this all a nightmare?  Will I wake to Rip’s pissed off face staring back at me?  There’s an element of fear and relief in that thought.  
I didn’t take any pills, did I?  No, I could swear I didn’t take any pills.
The blackness tugs at me, begging me to swim in its void.  Yes.  Take me.  
Ripley stands up from me, shoving a cigarette into his mouth, and plucks his fingers along his blade.  
Will he kill me?  Will all three of them torture me?
I don’t even care.  Somewhere in the darkness, there’s safety.  Quiet.  So I let it steal me away.

 

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

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

 

 

 

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I Do, Babe: A Novella (Hades Hangmen 5.5)

 

WHEN DARKNESS AND LIGHT COMBINE, DESTINED SOULS WILL IGNITE . . .
Connected since childhood.
Two souls: one dark and one pure.
Bracing to take the greatest step of all.
River ‘Styx’ Nash loves his woman. Ever since he met Mae at the fence of the cult that had kept her captive as a child, he has never loved anyone else. He loves her black hair, her pale skin and of course, her ice-blue ‘wolf eyes’.
Since Mae came crashing back into his life, his only wish has been to marry her; finally to make her his wife. But now the wedding is booked, and only weeks from forever having Mae by his side, a lifelong problem is plaguing him.
He wants to marry her; he has never wanted anything more . . .
. . . if only he could speak the words and declare it to the world.
Salome ‘Mae’ Nash’s life had been filled with heartache and pain . . . until, at age eight, she met a strange dark-haired boy from the outside world. Years later, and reunited with her great love, Mae is ready to solder her heart to his. Finally, Mae is getting ready to marry her man. But her fiancé has become withdrawn. Something is deeply troubling him.
But Mae has no idea what.
Or what to do to help.
Can Styx open up and conquer his deepest pain? Or will the infamous Hangmen Mute allow his fears to overcome his love for Mae and watch their much-anticipated wedding crumble to dust?
Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, offensive language and mature topics. Recommended for age 18 and over.
***I Do, Babe: A Novella (Hades Hangmen #5.5) is to be read AFTER Damnable Grace (Hades Hangmen #5)***

 


Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.
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