Excerpts

EXCERPT: Retrieval – Aly Martinez

retrieval-alyRetrieval by Aly Martinez
Series: The Retrieval Duet #1
Genre: romance
Release date: September 13th
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One story. Two couples.

I proposed on our first date.
She laughed and told me I was insane. Less than a day later, she said yes.
It was a whirlwind, but we were happy…
Until we got greedy and wanted a family.

It was a life I couldn’t give her, not for lack of trying. Fertility just wasn’t on our side. We sought out doctors and treatments. Spent money we didn’t have. Lied to our families. Smiled for our friends. Put on a brave face for a world that didn’t understand.
Finally, we were successful…
Until we were forced to bury our son.

We were left broken, battered, and destroyed.
They say love is in the details, but it was the details that ruined us.

This is the story of how I took back what had always been mine.
The retrieval of my wife and our family.

Excerpt

Roman

The house was dark when I quietly twisted the lock so as not to wake her. God knows she needed the sleep. I didn’t know how she still functioned when her days were filled with tears and her nights weren’t much better. It was precisely the reason I stayed gone as much as I did. Or so I’d thought as I’d thrown myself into work. Money couldn’t solve my problems, but it might have been able to solve hers.

My body ached, and my lids barely stayed open despite the pot of coffee I’d downed not even an hour earlier. It was a miracle I had been able to drive at all. I should have just crashed at the office, but after yet another failed prototype, I’d needed an escape.

Instead, I’d gone home—the very place I’d spent so many nights trying to avoid.

Only one foot was over the threshold when I suddenly froze.

“Elisabeth?” I called, flipping the overhead light on.

My shoulders fell as I found her sitting on the sofa, her long, blond hair curtaining her face and suitcases surrounding her feet.

“What’s going on?” I asked as my gut wrenched, already knowing the answer.

I had no right to be surprised. I’d all but forced her hand. If I was honest with myself, it was what I’d wanted—for her. However, none of that made the pain of reality any less agonizing.

My heart raced. “Elisabeth?” I prompted again, needing to hear her say the words almost as much as I dreaded it.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” she whispered at the floor.

Acid rose in my throat.

Out of habit, I dropped my keys into the basket she’d bought when we’d first moved in. “If you fail the key basket, the key basket will fail you,” she’d announced with an infectious smile the day we had become homeowners to the two-bedroom-two-bath starter home we could barely afford. It was just seconds before I’d swept her off her feet and made love to her on the hardwood floor of our foyer in the middle of the day.

But such was life as a newlywed.

Inside that house with her was the only place I’d ever wanted to be.

Until the fantasy of forever had worn off and the walls of real life had closed in on us. Once my refuge, our home became an inescapable prison with bars built of my failures.

I couldn’t breathe inside that house any more than I could look her in the eye.

We’d only been married for five years. But, seeing her now, I felt like it’d been a lifetime since I’d peered into her eyes, promising to love her in sickness and in health.

But it wasn’t like she was the same woman, either.

Over the last six months, she’d wasted away both physically and mentally in front of my eyes.

And I’d done absolutely nothing to help her.

But how do you throw a lifeline when you yourself don’t even have a rope to hold on to? I might have been able to keep her afloat for another day, but I’d never have been able to pull her back to me.

We merely existed on the same plane. Living under the same roof, eating meals at the same table, sleeping in the same bed. But we were far from sharing our lives together.

“Are you coming back?” I asked, not willing to accept the truth that lingered in the air around us.

Her deep-green eyes lifted to mine—the red rims and the dark circles doing nothing to hinder her beauty. Swallowing hard, she shifted her gaze to the mantel on the other side of the room. I knew what she was looking at, but I refused to follow her into the past.

That might have been our biggest problem of all.

She was still living there.

And I refused to go back.

“Elisabeth?” My voice softened, but the question remained the same. “Are you coming back?”

“No,” she replied, swiping the tears from her cheeks.

A thousand arrows fell from the sky, searing into my soul. My breath hitched, and my lungs burned. This was it—the end of my life as I knew it. But, in that moment, with her shoulders hunched forward in defeat, I realized that it was the end of hers, too.

Why did that realization hurt more than the lifetime of loneliness that was awaiting me when the sun rose?

I lifted a hand and rubbed my chest, hoping to ease the mounting pressure threatening to overtake me. “Don’t do this,” I mumbled through the pain.

I wasn’t sure who I’d meant that for though.

Was I chastising myself for having asked her to prolong the inevitable just because I wasn’t ready to lose her yet? Or was I asking her to stay in this sham of a marriage for even one day longer?

Probably both.

“You’ll be okay,” she assured me, pushing to her feet and gathering her bag, complete with our Yorkie, Loretta, tucked in her mesh dog carrier.

My pulse quickened, nature’s fight-or-flight finally kicking in. But I’d been in flight mode for entirely too long. There was no fight left.

I stepped into her path. “Elisabeth, please.” I wasn’t sure why I kept saying her name. I secretly hoped that it would snap her out of it, bringing her back to the reality of it all. But it was the reality that was killing us.

“I’ll take off work tomorrow,” I pleaded. “We can talk. Figure things out.”

It was selfish. Completely and utterly selfish. But that was nothing new for me.

Her chin quivered as a steady stream of tears fell from her eyes. “Promise me something, Roman.”

I would have promised her the entire fucking universe if it had made her stay one night longer. But who was I kidding?

We were over.

We both knew it.

“Anything,” I whispered, reaching down to take her hand, desperate for the connection I didn’t deserve.

“Remember to live.” Her voice caught, and a silent sob tore through her.

Cupping the back of her head, I pulled her into my chest.

“I can fix this,” I swore, but it was yet another lie. “We just need time.”

Her shoulders shook as she cried in my arms. “We…we promised. We told him we’d live for him.”

I closed my lids and clung to her tighter.

We were supposed to be fighting and screaming. That was what soon-to-be-divorced couples did. But that wasn’t us. We didn’t hate each other. Elisabeth was my soul mate on every level.

And she was paying the price for that.

Minutes later, the tears stopped and she backed out of my arms. I fought the urge to regain my hold, forcing her to stay. But her sad resolve as she hurried to the mantel and then to the door made it clear it’d be a wasted effort.

Never in a million years had I thought I’d be standing there, watching her walk away.

But, then again, I’d never expected her to have the urn of our only child cradled in her arm, either. A reminder of just how much I hadn’t been able to give her. How much I’d never be able to give her.

My past, present, and future were walking out of my life, and I stood immobile as every fiber in my being screamed for me to drop to my knees and beg her to stay.

To take her in my arms and tell her that we’d figure it out.

To reclaim my life once and for all.

But how would that have helped her?

Staying wouldn’t magically bring back her smile. Nor would it make her look at me with those bright-green eyes that made me feel as though I could conquer the world.

It wouldn’t give me back the crazy woman who argued with her whole heart and loved with her entire soul. No. Those days were gone.

I’d lost that woman somewhere in the bitterness between grief and blame.

We’d been happy once.

But we’d gotten greedy and tried to start a family.

That was her future. Not mine. Regardless how desperately I longed to give it to her…and then selfishly take it for myself.

Sex. That’s how babies are made. Children as young as elementary school are taught the simple biological facts of reproduction.

But what they never tell you is that, for one in six couples, having a baby goes a little differently.

For Elisabeth and me, it looked more like this:

Thirty-six months of crushing disappointment.

Three miscarriages.

Hundreds of tests our insurance company refused to cover because the inability to reproduce was not considered a health condition.

Countless tears.

Helplessness.

Failure.

Failure.

Failure.

Her broken heart.

My empty chest.

Thirty-seven thousand dollars we didn’t have.

In vitro fertilization.

A sperm donor.

A handful of hope.

A positive pregnancy test.

Five months of utter bliss.

Earth-shattering devastation.

A funeral for a child I would never get to see grow up.

A job that became my only reprieve from reality.

And now…losing the only woman I would ever love.

I’d always been amazed by how much punishment a heart could take. I was broken, battered, and destroyed. And yet, much to my dismay, as I watched the front door close behind her, my heart kept beating.

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TOUR & REVIEW: His Dark Canvas – Alexandrea Weis

His Dark CanvasHis Dark Canvas by Alexandrea Weis
Series: Corde Noir #3 (can standalone)

Genre: erotic paranormal romance
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Ella Winston is a talented chef with a problem – the slightest touch can reveal anyone’s darkest secrets.

Hired to cook for the artist, Ren Plancharde, she struggles to keep her ability under wraps.

After accidently uncovering Ren’s underground activities, the eccentric painter offers Ella a glimpse into his world of pleasure and pain. Intrigued, he decides to make Ella a part of his sinister Corde Noire Society, but his chef isn’t quite ready to commit.

Absolute submission isn’t all Ren wants from the stubborn woman. He has big plans for her gift, too. The only question is … will Ella be willing to give in to his desires when the time comes?

The darkness within can hide a lifetime of secrets.

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Excerpt

Through the haze of her apple martinis, Ella spotted someone across the wide dining room. He was different from the other patrons there to celebrate the restaurant’s two-year anniversary. With an arrogant walk, he strutted across the stone floor. Lean, muscular, and blessed with one of those bodies women would always notice, he had dark blond hair and disquieting dark green eyes. He was the kind of guy who knew he was good-looking and let everyone else know it, too. She wasn’t usually attracted to that type, but this man—his confidence intrigued her.

“You’re Ella, Ella Winston,” he said in a voice like dark chocolate fondue: deep, and wickedly sexy.

“Yeah.” She almost dropped her drink. “I’m the sous chef.”

“I know. Marcus told me.”

As his smile sank to the depths of her belly, he extended his hand, but Ella ignored it.

Don’t touch him. You know what happens when you touch them.

“So, how do you know Marcus?” Ella quickly asked, hoping to make up for her rudeness.

He laughed, looking her over. Above the din in the room, she could sense something different about his laugh. Unlike the insincere chortle of others, this man’s laugh got to her. She was having an unusual physical reaction, something that never happened to her. When most men laughed, Ella usually ran away.

“Marcus and I share the same friends.”

“What friends are those?” she asked, craving another martini.

“The wealthy kind, who like to support the arts.” He raised a green bottle of sparkling water in his hand. “I’m a painter. Marcus and I know a lot of people who like to pretend they’re patrons and keep us gainfully employed.”

“Painter?” Ella shrugged, finding it hard to believe Marcus knew any painters. “What do you paint?”

“Portraits of women. Usually with very little clothing.”

Oh yeah, I need another drink. “Is that lucrative?”

“For me it is.”

Her eyes wandered around the dining room, desperate to find a rescue. Ella needed to get away from this man before she said or did something really stupid.

“Do you like art?” he pressed.

“Some art. I think it would depend on the passion I see in a painting.”

“The passion in a painting?” That laugh again. Her toes tingled. Not good. “You sound like a painter, Ms. Winston.”

The martini glass in her hand suddenly weighed a ton. “Isn’t painting a passion for an artist, like cooking is a passion for a chef? Having a passion is a healthy thing. It reminds us that we have a soul.”

He nodded, seemingly approving of her drunken ramblings. “That’s very profound and also very true. I think you have a lot of talents yet to be discovered, Ella. May I call you Ella?”

“Ah, sure. Ella is fine.” Her mouth went dry. “What makes you think I have any talents outside of cooking?”

“I have a sense for these things.”

She tensed. Can he tell? The same thought always haunted her when she met new people. Ella fought so hard to keep her secret under control. Time to make a run for it.

“Don’t let Marcus know I have other talents. He’ll probably fire me.”

She was about to depart when he stopped her. He leaned in, and she could just make out the small cleft in his pointy chin. “I promise, if you ever need a job, I’ll hire you.”

His mouth was so close she could have kissed his perfect, thin lips. Frightened by the notion, Ella backed away. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I hope you do, Ella.”

She should have done a million different things: asked his name, gotten his phone number, or stayed to flirt with him some more. Instead, Ella walked away. She figured it was one of those moments in life she would live to regret. Fortunately, Ella found the bar and drowned her disappointment in another apple martini.

Ella reasoned that was the way of it. You meet people and move on, and one day, if you’re lucky, you meet the interesting ones again.

Review

Heat: 🔥🔥🔥
Rating: ★★

She was an outsider, a novice in the ways of pleasure, and therefore, an even mightier challenge. Training her would be his greatest work of art.

The first instalment I’ve read in this series, I felt that although it started strongly, leaving me intrigued about the relationship and where it would lead, it just fell a little flat for me. I understand that, although slated as a standalone, there were elements in these pages which have clearly been building up from the beginning, and are set to continue in the next instalment, which probably could have detracted from my reading experience. Although I’m not a huge fan of paranormal romance, the right one can really draw me in, but the abilities and sub-plot were so much into the background that they really held no interest to me at all – and unfortunately, neither did the romance aspect.

The characters seemed very one-dimensional, sticking to typical stereotypes (including the supporting cast), and I never once really believed in their relationship. I felt like the fact that the supporting cast had to continually hint at Ella and Ren’s feelings for one another, in a telling rather than showing manner (one of my pet hates), meant that I was directed how to specifically feel about certain situations, and unable to make up my own mind. They for some reason shared their entire backstories with one another very soon after meeting, leaving nothing for a later big reveal. I just found it pretty stilted.

The sex scenes had an unfortunate tendency to ‘fade to black’ just as they were getting interesting. I’m a fan of the dark and gritty, and the explicit and erotic, and this just didn’t quite do it for me. The scenes had a lot of potential but just weren’t exploited enough for my liking – and, once again, although I was told how turned on/in love these characters were, I really didn’t find it believable.

“Having a passion is a healthy thing. It reminds us that we have a soul.”

This is a shame; I was really wanting to enjoy it, the premise was very promising, and Weis’ writing is excellent and fluid. I just wasn’t sold on the characters or the predictable plot, or the attempt at darkness which didn’t quite pay off.

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RELEASE: Torn – Carian Cole

Torn Ebook CoverTorn – Carian Cole
Series: Devils Wolves #1

Genre: romance
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He’s loved me since the day I was born.
He’s taken care of me.
He’s awakened me.

Tor. My father’s best friend.
Fifteen years older than me, he’s always been my protector. The one I should never, ever want.
But I was born to be his.

She’s always loved me.
She’s shattered me.
She’s healed me.
Kenzi. My best friend’s daughter.
I held her the day she was born, and I never let go.
She’s forbidden to me. But she’s the only one that really gets me.
We’re slowly being torn apart by everything we love.
Everything we want.
Everything we desire.

And now I want the one thing I can’t have… I want her.

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Excerpt

Prologue 

Kenzi one day old
Toren fifteen years old

“We want you to be her Godfather,” Asher says as he gently lays his newborn baby into my arms. I have to tear my gaze away from her spellbinding eyes to look up at him from the chair I’m cradling the baby in.

 “Me?” I repeat, glancing over at Ember in the hospital bed, who beams back at me with a tired, yet genuine smile.

 “Yes, you,” they both say at the same time. “If it wasn’t for you, we probably never would have met,” Ember adds, grabbing Asher’s hand. “And we wouldn’t have this beautiful little baby. We know you’ll always protect her.”

 “That’s right, man. You’re Uncle Tor now.”

 I’m an uncle. And my two best friends are parents. And we’re all fuckin’ under sixteen.

 But Kenzi Allyster Valentine would change us all forever. She needed us.

 “Wow. I’m honored, guys. No doubt, I’ll always be here for her.”

 I kick back the pang that hits my stomach. I didn’t get the girl…but I got something better that I never expected. A gift in the form of a little tiny hand wrapped tightly around my finger, huge eyes like gems staring up into mine like I was the most amazing person in the friggen’ world, and the first glimpse of what I could already tell was going to be a heart-stopping smile. 

 At that moment, a connection was born.

 That was it.
She owned me.
My niece.
My god-daughter.
The love of my life.

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RELEASE & REVIEW: Perv – Dakota Gray

Perv Ebook CoverPerv – Dakota Gray
Series: Filth #1
Genre: erotica
Theme: enemies to lovers, revenge
Archetype: playboy
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I’m honest about what I am. You want to screw until you can’t see straight? I’m your guy. You want to experience the best oral orgasm of your life, don’t pass go and collect two-hundred dollars. Eating you for dessert is my specialty. I live for that. Skinny, average or meat on your bones, I don’t care. Blonde, brunette…white, Asian, black…

 Are you pink where it counts? Then you’re my type.

 I’m your guy.

 For the duration of our affair, I will call you Sugar because I can’t bother to retain your name.
That’s the kind of man I am, and you will know that going in. I make sure of it.
So it’s not my fault her friend loved me, but She is going to make me pay for that.
And I’m too addicted to her taste to walk away.

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Excerpts

Excerpt 1

“Since you seem to know everything about me, tell me something.”

“Tell me my name.” She raises a brow.

Fuck.

I pull a hand through my hair and figure shit is going south anyway. I lean down so my mouth is right on her earlobe. “Stealth.”

She puts a hand to my chest and laughs. “What?”

“You put your tits on the counter to get the bartender’s attention. That’s stealthy so…Stealth and Heels.”

“And or in?” There’s amusement in her tone and she hasn’t pushed me away.

“And.”

“So you’re admitting you have no idea what my name is?”

“Yup.”

To my surprise she leans into me, leaving no room between us. My cock perks to attention. Her dress is a second skin. I can pretend for a moment she’s bare against me, and though I’m not a tits man, hers are full and soft—I want to lick, bite and suck them until her eyes roll back.

She tilts her head and we’re cheek to cheek. “I know what you are, Nathan. I know what you need.”

She’s speaking words, but all I can hear in her low, sultry tone is fuck me hard. And I’m an accommodating man. “Are you going to give it to me?”

What? I’m not going to say no. Or talk her out of whatever she’s planning to do.

“You torture women, you know that, right?” The huskiness in her voice is the best friction.

“Torture?” I ask.

“Mind blowing head. And then they have to somehow live the rest of their lives cold turkey or with second best. That makes you an asshole.”

“Not my fault I’m good at what I do.”

She shifts and her skin brushes my cheek again. “It is when you know damn well the woman is looking to settle down.”

“I never lie.”

“You never turn a woman away either.”

“They’re all adults.” I don’t fuck women who need help. Genuine help. Telling her that feels too much like defending my life choices. I don’t make a woman believe I can love her. That’s cruel.

She huffs. “You have every intention of destroying her world.”

Red flashes over my vision at the accusation. “And what are you going to do about it, Sugar?”

She laughs—I’m not sure if it’s at me—and I fucking feel the sound in my every bone. “You want a taste of me, Nathan?”

 Excerpt 2

“Do you remember her now?”

Nope, and if I cop to that she might throw her drink in my face, and that would pretty much tell me she wouldn’t ever have sex with me.

Maybe.

Women are strange.

“If I apologized would that make you happy?” I offer this and mean it. “You can call her up, and I’ll let her know that I fucked her over and I wish her all the best.”

Her breath shudders as she inhales. “Would you mean it, or do you just fake sincerity?”

“I sincerely want you on my bed.” I turn my face to the side, ready for the slap of liquid.

A laugh spills out. “Go away, you pig.”

This is why I only lie during breakups. Truth is better even if it bites on its way out. And, God, I love her laugh. It’s just a sexy sound, and her brown eyes light up when she does it. “I’m going to wait in vain.”

“You’re going to wait to see what kind of car I get into and jot down my license plate.”

Likely. I’m craving more details about her. If I find them all, the mystery of her can fucking die. “And you’re not bothered by any of that?”

“I like being able to tell you you’re the scum of the earth. To your face. As often as I can. Brings me joy.”

It’s my turn to laugh, and shit, I’m starting to like this sexy, twisted, pain in my ass, but one thing is bugging me. Okay. Several things about her make me twitchy. I just need to know one thing if I’m ever going to be sane again. “How’d you know?”

“What?”

“That I’d want to eat you?”

“You’re a pervert. It’s not about me. It’s about the fact you can’t have me. I’m epic in your mind simply because I told you no.” A glance over my shoulder and she’s moving away from me.

I look. The redhead stands at the door. Her brows go up, and she pans her gaze to Stealth. And Stealth makes a ‘forget him’ gesture and moves over to a table. Once again I’m dismissed. I’m not even meat.

I’ve always known I wasn’t wrapped too tight. Other boys were getting perpetual boners over tight shirts and short shorts. I practically cried with joy over the daisy dukes trend because camel toes were on rampant display. I watched porn for the pussy eating scenes, which I soon learned was all bullshit. If you eat pussy like they do in porn, that’s why your wife is always mad at you.

Why the inner monologue about this?

She dismissed me without a backward glance…and I want to fuck her until we both die. I’m going to make a home at a table and wait for her.

Review

Heat: ★★★★
Rating: ★★★

Yes. Attraction is that simple for me. Would I like her to sit on my face? Yes. Proceed. No? Pass. I am nothing if not a simple man.

I enjoyed this one. It was somewhat refreshing, and I felt that Gray managed to write in Nate’s voice particularly well. The style was short, sharp and snappy, reminding me of an episode of Scandal (if Scandal were a show about a cunnilingus fetish). However, due to this snappy style, there were a couple of occasions, particularly towards the end, thatlost me very slightly, requiring an extra read-through just to ensure I’d understood what was being said.

Much of this felt like a study in female pleasure, with the detail provided about Nate’s skills and his process of sex. There was a danger of this being too clinical, but actually it worked as not only did it make the scenes steamier, and Nate’s mouth filthier, it described the female body, “warts and all”, contributing to the crude nature of the narrative and, once again, being something rarely found in any romance or erotica.

“If you’d let me, I’d sit you on the bar and make you squirt.”

The crudeness of this novel and its characters was a breath of fresh air, no hold barred, some parts making me chuckle, others surprising me with their pure filth, and I loved it. There’s nothing better than a filthy mouthed hero in an erotica novel, even if he’s pretty unlikeable. And this, I feel, is the core of the novel – Nate is not a nice guy. It’s difficult to get to know him, to approve of his actions, even though he is nothing if not honest. Despite the humour, despite some of his questionable actions, I actually felt, in some places, an underlying feeling almost of pity, but not quite. A softer feeling I can’t quite name yet, but one which contributed to the depth of the novel, along with the endingbig reveal which provided a more serious tone.

“You’re a pervert. It’s not about me. It’s about the fact you can’t have me.”

I really did enjoy reading this one. The sex scenes weredeliciously filthy, the underlying depth was a nice surprise, as was the style. I just wish, after all that, I had left the novel feeling like I really knew Stealth (I won’t use her real name as I don’t like spoilers) and Nate, so I could really be invested in their relationship. But, if you enjoy erotica and dirty talking heroes, definitely give this a read.

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BOOST & REVIEW: The Found – Cole McCade

The Found Ebook CoverThe Found by Cole McCade
Series: Crow City #2 (can standalone)

Genre: dark erotica, suspense
Themes: kidnapped, BDSM
Archetype: anti-hero
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Witness to a murder. Kidnapped by a monster. Life hanging on a whim. Willow Armitage’s world was already falling apart; between getting fired and caring for her chronically ill father, she’s had little room for anything but survival. But that survival hangs in the balance the night she stumbles into a back alley – and watches a stranger die at the hands of the most beautiful man she’s ever seen.

Lethal. Powerful. Unstable. Terrifying. The contract killer known only as Priest is a dangerous unknown, and when Willow wakes tied to a chair in his hideout, the only thing she sees in his fox-gold eyes is death. Yet for Priest, Willow is a dilemma: an innocent, a saint among the sinners he cuts down in the streets of Crow City. His code of honor forbids shedding innocent blood. Releasing her will send her straight to the police. The only answer is a warped game, and his promise: that he will find the darkness inside her, expose it, and prove that deep down, everyone is just as monstrous as he…and just as worthy of death.

 Yet he unearths not a monster, but a smoldering and secret desire – one that has always terrified Willow, and may be her undoing. His touch sets her alight. His strength burns through her like flame. And his control melts her each time he binds her virgin body, possesses her, teaches her the strength in weakness and the passion in submission. But that passion may be her damnation, and in the end Willow must choose: Priest’s love, or her own life.

 When his every kiss is pure sin…can she resist damnation long enough for Priest to find his way to redemption?

This story contains content centered around non-consent, bodily autonomy, sexual assault, bodily functions, and violence. Please focus on self-care above all, and don’t be afraid to put the book down if you need to in order to protect yourself. You come first, always.

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Excerpt

His fingers grazed the curve of her waist. With a gasp, she snapped her eyes open. He met her gaze, fox-gold turned hot as melting amber, fierce and animal and stripping her more bare than that exposed, naked flesh. She felt like a butterfly pinned to a board, held by his gaze, her limbs going slack and her struggles stopping against her will. She hardly felt it, when he hooked a fingertip under the bunched edge of her tank top—then ripped with such effortless strength, the threads of the side seam snapping apart one after the other, until there was nothing left of her tank top but rags of cloth. No, she hardly felt that…but she felt it when he teased those rags from underneath the ropes, as every scrap of cloth stroked and washed against her skin until she was nothing but a trembling tangle of sensitivity and frozen breaths building tighter and tighter in her chest.

And she felt it when that taunting, teasing fingertip hooked in her panties, slipping into the opening just above her thigh, and she realized just what he intended to do.

Don’t touch me.”

Suddenly she could move again—and she writhed against the ropes, fighting to squirm away. But she had barely an inch of slack, nowhere to go but against the ropes, hanging in midair and so fucking helpless she would scream with sheer rage if she didn’t want to cry with sheer hopelessness. Was he enjoying this? Enjoying watching her struggle? Enjoying how her skin tightened and pulled and her nipples swelled and her breaths came shallow with every touch, her fucking disobedient body whispering dirty thing, dirty thing, give me more of that dirty thing while her mind and heart screamed no, no, not like that, never like that?

Was he enjoying having her at his mercy, unable to escape his every touch?

His fingers dug into the fabric of her panties. Clenched it against his fist. Pulled. Cloth creased, bit, burrowed into her dirty, dirty thing, her wet dirty thing, her pulsing dirty thing, and she was a fucking dirty thing when she arched off the seat and cried out and whimpered and mewled, as he dragged the cloth against her and all she felt was sweet-rough friction and that slickness, sickness, wet and running like a licking tongue.

“D-don’t,” she cried again, and yet he only pulled harder, the panties so much worse than the rope when every fold and crease molded to her flesh like liquid fire and left nothing untouched. “Don’t!

He paused, held that steady pressure, keeping her on the end of a taut-stretched wire. “Are you a virgin, firefly?” he growled.

She spat in his face.

Panting, body heaving, she drew back and spat in his face, and watched with a sort of foggy, dazed satisfaction as it landed in a wet streak on his cheek, dripping down his bronzed skin like a tear. He remained unmoved, watching her steadily, waiting, holding her dangling from the one hand as if he hardly felt her weight and those damnable fingers pulling her panties against her flesh.

“My body is not your business,” she hissed.

“Right now, your body is my property.” He slid a fingertip down into the crease between her hip and thigh, the place where the seam of her panties normally cut in whenever she sat, moved, shifted; there was something too personal about that touch, so close and yet so far, a threat that made her shrink back even as that feeling inside her nearly exploded, that hollow feeling that seemed like a rapacious beast, a dragon with an open maw and empty gullet that was hungry, so hungry to be full. “I want an answer.”

He bunched her panties into his hand again, curling the fabric in stretched wrinkles against his palm—and this time when he pulled he gave no quarter, a single sharp rip and a sound of cloth tearing like tape pulling off the spool, high and shrill. There was a moment’s painful bite, a muted cry welling in her throat, and then the pressure eased as the tatters of her panties fell, forgotten, to the floor.

Still he watched her. And she, naked with nowhere to hide, curled into herself; she felt her nudity like a presence, like a thing touching her and twisting over her flesh to force her to feel every moment of her exposure, every moment of her vulnerability and helplessness. Priest said nothing. He didn’t need to. He never needed to. When he wanted an answer, he got one, and would wait her out as he had before, implacable and unmoving and relentless. She had always imagined men like him to be all force, all bluster, all violence and snarling and threats.

She was quickly learning that silence—silence and careful, metered application of just enough strength to drive his point home—was just as effective as force.

And just as frightening.

Dangling from his grip like a puppy, she hung her head. Anything not to meet those piercing eyes; anything not to feel the shame of giving in to the quiet demand in his gaze; anything to make this end, so he would stop tormenting her and leave her alone.

“…yes,” she mumbled. Still he didn’t speak, or put her down. Defeat sparked into frustration, and she glared at him from under the fall of her hair. “Yes, all right? Are you happy? Is that what you fucking wanted to know?”

“Yes,” he said simply, and lowered her to the floor.

Review

Heat: ★★★★★
Rating: ★★★★★

He lay on his side, sprawled with the indolent languor of a wild thing utterly aware of its own power.

This is something special. Never before have a read any romance – dark or otherwise – which is simultaneously an introspective character study, delving so deep into the mind and unique voice of Willow Armitage that I could completely understand her choices and actions throughout the novel. Understanding does not necessarily mean approving of; rather, throughout this tale I felt like the firefly in the cage, able only to mesmerisingly watch these events unfold and unravel towards their climax, at times feeling disgusted and horrified, at others being seduced and needing.

Dealing with dark subject matter, issues regarding consent, morality and shame, it is easy to be told what to think by an author; McCade instead shows rather than tells, allowing the reading experience to be a totally unique journey for each person, as reading should be. We can form our own conclusions and opinions on Willow and Priest, their relationship and their pasts – something that provides any novel with value.

“You seem, to me, rather than one long road…instead like many short paths that wander a few steps in one direction, before changing again. There is no story; only the beginnings of many, tales unfinished and untold.”

This is a story that is passionate, and will invoke a passionate response from readers – whether hate, disgust or intrigue. It has been a long time since I’ve felt the urge to sit up all night absorbed within someone else’s brain – and rather than a book to consume, for me this was one to savour. I did not want it to end, but I needed to continue reading.

It’s books like these that make me reconsider my entire rating system. If this is a five star read, there are maybe only one or two others I’ve found thus far in my lifetime that can match it.

And honestly? These characters, this intrigue and obsession…it’s something that will stay with me forever.

Giveaway

Blog Tours, Erotic Romance, Excerpts, Reviews, Romance

TOUR & REVIEW: Two Can Play – Victoria Ashley & Hilary Storm

Two Can PlayTwo Can Play – Victoria Ashley & Hilary Storm
Series: Alphachat.com
Genre: erotic romance
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Add it to your TBR

Alphachat.com – That’s all the info you need to get off in the privacy of your own room, office or hell… even in a public fucking pool.

Whatever gets you wet.

Lynx brought me into the Alpha House because he knows I can give the women what they want.

They want to see me take my pants off, so I give them a big fucking surprise. They want to see me stroke myself, so I do it with both hands, giving them the show of their lives.

It’s been fun and games for the last few months and money is flowing in faster than I can count it. Anyone I want, my fine ass can get.

Until Karma walks into the Alpha House and changes the damn game.

She wants to play hard to get and pretend that she doesn’t want me every damn day.

Well… She’s about to find out that Two Can Play.

Excerpt

Blaze

THE DRESS SHE’S WEARING SHOWS off some tattoos I’ve not seen before and my dick instantly twitches at the thought of seeing what else she has underneath the red material that barely covers her gorgeous body.  Fuck.  Her tits are perfect and now my eyes are glued to her every move, not wanting to miss a damn thing.  That woman has my undivided attention in a room full of pussy and that is something that never happens.

  The sound of Levi clearing his throat reminds me that I’m holding the mic.  “MmmHmmm, okay guys, pick your prey, let’s get this night started.  I already know who I’m going after.”

  Hands go up all over the room and block my view of Karma.  She moves to the far corner and I finally catch her eyes looking toward us.  I can see her vibrant red hair hanging over one bare inked up shoulder and before I know it, I can feel myself moving toward her.

  Women rub their hands across my chest and stomach as I walk through the crowd, my eyes never leaving her.  One even grabs my dick and I just pull her hands from me and keep moving.  Karma’s not looking at me at all, she’s actually looking down at her phone typing something as I approach.  Just knowing she has no idea that she’s my next victim excites me.  The element of surprise should always be in my favor, it’s something I love to do.  I have to keep them guessing and never let them think they know what to expect from me.

  “You came to see me?”  My words pull her attention from her phone and I watch her take me in starting at my cock, then slowly moving all the way up to my grinning mouth before she looks at my tie around my head and smiles.

  “Who’s to say I’m not here for one of the other guys?  There are plenty to choose from.  I mean, I have been up close and personal with all of you.”  Her confidence radiates in her tone before she takes one step away from me just as the music begins.  Yes, she has been up close to all of us.  She’s the artist who pierced every single one of the dicks in this house.  The guys became insane and decided they like torture and pain and called her to do the honors.  She had me stupid from the very moment I looked over the rail and saw her.

  On cue, I slide off the tie and hold it tightly in my grip.  I move forward on her, pushing her back against the wall and sliding my body over hers before she has time to resist.

  I grind my hips forward and raise both of her arms above her head, holding them tightly.  Our eyes meet and she exhales against my cheek when I thrust up against her.

  Holding both wrists in the grip of my right hand, I let the tie dangle down our arms and continue to stare into her bright blue eyes.

  Looking into a woman like this for a long time is something I love to do.  There’s just something raw about it and I’ve never met a woman who can stare at me long enough to make me look away first.  Call it a challenge at this point, but honestly it tells me so much about a person.

  I let my other hand slide down her curves while I continue to watch her.  She’s looking at me like she’s not at all intrigued, even though I can feel that she is.

     She wants me.  I saw it in the smirk on her face the second I got rough with her.

  My cock is literally throbbing as I feel her soft skin under my touch.  My hand is full of her ass and I love the challenging look she gives me when I squeeze her once again.  “You’re gonna love having my cock between your legs.”

  She raises her eyebrows at me just as I drop the grip on her wrists and slide one of her hands over my erection.  She already knows what it looks like from when she pierced it, but that was no comparison to what I’m sporting right now.  I’m completely fucking hard.

  “Nice.  A shower and a grower.”  Her words of appreciation cause me to laugh even though it’s not the first time I’ve heard them.

  Fuck yes, I’m hung.  How else would I be this successful doing this job?  Women love my size and never get tired of watching during a show.  Most of them beg for more time.

  “I guess I am.”  I let my lips run over her ear before I continue.  “You’ll have to give these new piercings a ride and let me know if they’re worth the pain I went through.”

  She squeezes my cock just a little tighter when the sound of Knox’s voice echoes through the room.  Shit, I want to turn the other way and take Karma to my room and end the teasing right the fuck now.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”  She smirks again and I can feel a build up of back and forth banter that will lead us both straight into my bed.  That’s something I’m already expecting, but with more of this teasing, I’ll be wound tight, which will only make the sex even more amazing.

  “I have a feeling we’d both like that.”  She continues to squeeze and explore with her touch and it takes everything in me not to slip her hand inside my pants and move this along quickly.

  “Alright, Blaze.  Bring your catch up here and let’s do this.”  Constant jolts of excitement flow through me as I think of all the fun I’m going to have with this girl tonight. She’s in for the fucking ride of her life, because that’s what I do.   

  “I guess I need you to come with me,” I breathe against her ear.

  Just as I hoped, she smiles and replies with a dirty mind, only making me want her more. “Oh, I’m going to hold you to that coming part.”

  The smile on my face has to be ridiculous, because holy fuck I want this girl on my dick right the fuck now.  I have to finish this party before I haul her up to my room, because I won’t be quick with this one.

  She follows my lead as I keep a grip on her hand, keeping her close to me.  Most of the women make a path for us, and only a few grope me as I pass this time.

  She looks a little worried about all of this now, her confidence fading as we move forward in front of a crowd.

  “Have a seat.”  I guide her to the chair, pushing on her shoulders until she’s in place directly in front of me.  Perfect height for me to really get creative with that mouth of hers, but I’ll have to leave that for later.

  “Alright boys, it’s time to do what we came here to do!”  Knox announces loudly and the music starts as the four of us Alpha guys begin moving, our bodies all in sync with each other.  I begin to slowly slide my neck tie off my shoulders, just like the others while the crowd loses their minds.  I know they can tell where this is headed.

  I slip mine around Karma’s neck and pull her closer to me, watching as her breathing picks up.  She looks up at me and smiles a naughty fucking grin at me showing me she’s ready for whatever I throw her way now that she’s up here.

  I tie the tie around her and begin to pull just slightly, until she rises to her feet.  I let my hands slide down the tie and enjoy brushing over her tits and down her cleavage as I follow the material down.  She’s biting her lip while I slowly guide her back to her seat, making sure her face is near my chest and stomach all the way down.  She’s instantly squirming in her seat and I let my fingers trace the edge of both of her tits, no doubt only making the tension worse between the two of us.

  Her tits are so damn perfect.  They’re for sure fake.  Now, I know I’m fucking this girl soon.  Nothing better than firm titties on a body like she has.  I can almost picture them bouncing as she rides my cock while I lie back and enjoy the show.

  My fingers leave a trail of chills all the way up her chest until I grab her throat and make her look up at me again.

  She looks into my eyes and I can see she’s curious.  Her eyes show how hungry she is.  I like keeping her on the edge of her seat.  She’s wondering what in the hell I’m going to do next.

  I look over at the other guys and see that they’ve kept up with the moves and I’m the only one faltering.  Knowing this just makes me want to scrap this whole fucking routine shit and take her up to my room for the real show I’m craving.

  I flip her around until her back is against my chest.  Her heart is beating faster and only encouraging me to move forward.  I guide her shoulders down until she’s bent over in front of me, then I grip the tie in my fist.  I tie her hands behind her back with the part of the tie that’s hanging low enough to reach.  I have to take a step back and look her over because this is something I want embedded into my memory bank.  She looks sexy as fuck waiting for me to make a move.

  I lean over her and whisper in her ear as I slide the tie around her neck to line it up perfectly.  “This is just a tease of what we’ll be like together.”  I pull tight, causing her back to arch and her ass to be in perfect position.  She tightens her stance and allows me to grind against her ass.

  My cock is begging to make contact with her and I fight the urge to slide her short dress up and do just that. The things I’d do to her sexy ass right here in the open if I didn’t want her to myself.

  I run my hands over her perfect ass and listen to the sounds of the screams beside me.  They’re encouraging me to go further, but I’m selfish with her.  I don’t want to share my time with her with a room full of horny women pretending it’s them that I’m touching.

  I move my hips against her over and over again.  She’s making my dick harder by the second and I’m craving so much more from her.  I let my hand slide up her side and trace the outside curve of her breast that’s not visible to the crowd.

  Wanting her even closer to me, I grip her shoulder and pull on the tie even tighter.  I slam against her and she grinds against me as I pause any movement and let her move on me.  She teases me so perfectly to the point I’m about ready to fuck her right here with everyone watching and say fuck it.

  “I’m going to fuck you tonight.  I’ll have you screaming my name over and over until you can’t fucking stand.  Then I’ll carry you to my bed and fuck you again.”  She looks over her shoulder at me and curves her lips into the sexiest fucking grin I’ve ever seen.  She’s so mischievous and confident, qualities I love in a woman.

  She stands still in front of me while I continue to grip the tie and give the audience a show.  “Are we just going to sit out here and talk about it, or are you going to fuck me like you say you can?”

  She just accepted my challenge and I can’t wait to bury myself deep inside her gorgeous body and make her scream for me.

  We both stare at each other a little longer with nothing but sexual intensity sparking between us.  I don’t even notice the crowd moving in closer until I release the grip on the tie and begin to lead her to the stairs.

  She pulls the tie from my grip and removes it from her neck.  “We’re gonna have so much fun with this tie.  I’m thinking of all the ways you can tie me up.  I have to say Blaze… you have me very curious.”  She pulls her bottom lip between her lips again as she looks over my face slowly.  “And that beard.  Fuck, I can’t wait to feel that right between my legs.  I just hope your actions match all that cocky talk I know you’re famous for.”  Her challenge goes right through me.

  She stands even closer to me and reaches for my dick again, running her fingers over my piercings and then down over my balls.  She holds them both in her hand before she rubs back over my length.

  Her moan turns me on even more and I’m now very impatient to get to my room.  I fucking love a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to grab it, and fuck if she didn’t just grab life by the balls and claim what she wanted.      

  Once we make it to the stairs, I walk with one hand attempting to hide my hard on.  I lead her hand so that she’s first to go up and I watch that sexy ass all the way up the stairs while she walks like she knows I’m watching.

     Fuck, I’m gonna love fucking that ass.

Review

Heat: ★★★★
Rating: ★★★★

Once again Victoria Ashley and Hilary Storm demonstrate how brilliantly and fluidly they write together. The Alphachat.com series is such a breath of fresh air, a wonderful idea with so many intriguing characters and relationships to explore. This is Blaze’s story, following his relationship with Karma, whom we met in the first instalment.

The sex scenes are, as ever, sizzlingly erotic, and the relationship and chemistry between Blaze and Karma was something to fully invest in. Their to-and-fro banter was exceptional, yet I found that it eclipsed that between the alphas in the house – the highlight of Pay for Play – which was something I was hoping for a little more of. It was great to see some more of the inner workings for the Alphachat business, and also two people invested in their careers as well as into one another.

This second instalment did not disappoint. Alphachat.com is shaping up to be one of the best series of 2016.

Excerpts, Release Blitz

RELEASE: His Dark Canvas – Alexandrea Weis

His Dark CanvasHis Dark Canvas by Alexandrea Weis
Series: Corde Noir #3 (can standalone)

Genre: dark erotic paranormal romance
Add it to your TBR

Ella Winston is a talented chef with a problem – the slightest touch can reveal anyone’s darkest secrets.

Hired to cook for the artist, Ren Plancharde, she struggles to keep her ability under wraps.

After accidently uncovering Ren’s underground activities, the eccentric painter offers Ella a glimpse into his world of pleasure and pain. Intrigued, he decides to make Ella a part of his sinister Corde Noire Society, but his chef isn’t quite ready to commit.

Absolute submission isn’t all Ren wants from the stubborn woman. He has big plans for her gift, too. The only question is … will Ella be willing to give in to his desires when the time comes?

The darkness within can hide a lifetime of secrets.

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Excerpt

Through the haze of her apple martinis, Ella spotted someone across the wide dining room. He was different from the other patrons there to celebrate the restaurant’s two-year anniversary. With an arrogant walk, he strutted across the stone floor. Lean, muscular, and blessed with one of those bodies women would always notice, he had dark blond hair and disquieting dark green eyes. He was the kind of guy who knew he was good-looking and let everyone else know it, too. She wasn’t usually attracted to that type, but this man—his confidence intrigued her.

“You’re Ella, Ella Winston,” he said in a voice like dark chocolate fondue: deep, and wickedly sexy.

“Yeah.” She almost dropped her drink. “I’m the sous chef.”

“I know. Marcus told me.”

As his smile sank to the depths of her belly, he extended his hand, but Ella ignored it.

Don’t touch him. You know what happens when you touch them.

“So, how do you know Marcus?” Ella quickly asked, hoping to make up for her rudeness.

He laughed, looking her over. Above the din in the room, she could sense something different about his laugh. Unlike the insincere chortle of others, this man’s laugh got to her. She was having an unusual physical reaction, something that never happened to her. When most men laughed, Ella usually ran away.

“Marcus and I share the same friends.”

“What friends are those?” she asked, craving another martini.

“The wealthy kind, who like to support the arts.” He raised a green bottle of sparkling water in his hand. “I’m a painter. Marcus and I know a lot of people who like to pretend they’re patrons and keep us gainfully employed.”

“Painter?” Ella shrugged, finding it hard to believe Marcus knew any painters. “What do you paint?”

“Portraits of women. Usually with very little clothing.”

Oh yeah, I need another drink. “Is that lucrative?”

“For me it is.”

Her eyes wandered around the dining room, desperate to find a rescue. Ella needed to get away from this man before she said or did something really stupid.

“Do you like art?” he pressed.

“Some art. I think it would depend on the passion I see in a painting.”

“The passion in a painting?” That laugh again. Her toes tingled. Not good. “You sound like a painter, Ms. Winston.”

The martini glass in her hand suddenly weighed a ton. “Isn’t painting a passion for an artist, like cooking is a passion for a chef? Having a passion is a healthy thing. It reminds us that we have a soul.”

He nodded, seemingly approving of her drunken ramblings. “That’s very profound and also very true. I think you have a lot of talents yet to be discovered, Ella. May I call you Ella?”

“Ah, sure. Ella is fine.” Her mouth went dry. “What makes you think I have any talents outside of cooking?”

“I have a sense for these things.”

She tensed. Can he tell? The same thought always haunted her when she met new people. Ella fought so hard to keep her secret under control. Time to make a run for it.

“Don’t let Marcus know I have other talents. He’ll probably fire me.”

She was about to depart when he stopped her. He leaned in, and she could just make out the small cleft in his pointy chin. “I promise, if you ever need a job, I’ll hire you.”

His mouth was so close she could have kissed his perfect, thin lips. Frightened by the notion, Ella backed away. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I hope you do, Ella.”

She should have done a million different things: asked his name, gotten his phone number, or stayed to flirt with him some more. Instead, Ella walked away. She figured it was one of those moments in life she would live to regret. Fortunately, Ella found the bar and drowned her disappointment in another apple martini.

Ella reasoned that was the way of it. You meet people and move on, and one day, if you’re lucky, you meet the interesting ones again.

Excerpts

EXCERPT: Opposites Attract – Jessica Prince

Opposites Attract High Res

Goodreads

Delilah Northcutt has been described as weird, nerdy. But her favorite term is quirky. The eccentric flower shop owner definitely marches to the beat of her own drum. On the rebound from a cheating ex, she’s not looking to open her heart to someone else any time soon. On a whim, her best friend convinces her that one night with a stranger she’ll never see again is just what she needs to pull herself out of the funk she’s been living in.

Overly serious, workaholic Richard Locklaine was always described as the twin determined to do the right thing. Even if it was at the cost of his own well-being. But after years in a loveless, manipulative marriage, he’s finally free and ready to build a life of his choosing. And nowhere in that life is there room for another woman—unless it’s for just one night, of course.

They are complete opposites in every single way. But for some reason, fate has decided to force the two of them together. Despite the chemistry, they’re determined to fight the attraction growing between them. Besides, what could a florist with horrible taste in music and an attorney from Connecticut ever really have in common? Only one thing is certain. When they finally come together, it’s going to be epic.

Excerpt

My eyes narrowed as I studied her face. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“Excuse me?”

Why did she sound so pissed? I held my hands up in surrender. “It’s not a line, I swear. You just look familiar to me, but I can’t figure out where I know you from. It’s driving me crazy. We’ve met, right?” Her cheeks flushed a bright pink. With the wide eyes, thick bangs, and creamy pale skin, the blush just made her even cuter.

“You don’t know me?”

I gave her the grin that normally had women doing whatever I wanted them to and took a step closer to her. I was a shameless flirt, so sue me. “Was that a question or an answer?” I teased in a low voice.

She stepped back and nearly tripped over her own feet, which was something, considering she was in flats. Grabbing a long-stemmed flower from the table, she held on to it like it was some sort of shield. The top of the flower drooped as she fidgeted and spun the stem in her hand.

“Uh…” She cleared her throat. “It was an answer. No. You don’t know me.”

I cocked my head to the side. That couldn’t be right. I could have sworn I’d seen her before. “You sure about that?”

“Yep! Positive!” she replied overenthusiastically, twirling the poor, abused flower round and round as she pasted an overly bright smile on her face, making her look slightly psychotic. Something was off with this woman. “So what can I help you with?”

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, I remembered what brought me to Flora in the first place. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m here to pick up a sample bouquet for Navie Collins.”

The flower in her hand stopped spinning and the top of it fell over her fingers, the petals scattering to the floor. “Wait… you’re Locklaine?”

I grinned and held out my hand. “Richard Locklaine, but my friends call me Rich. And you’re Delilah…?” I trailed off, giving her the chance to add her last name. But she didn’t. And my hand stayed extended and empty as she stared at me, aghast, like I’d just informed her I planned on voting for Trump or something.

She seemed frozen for several seconds before she finally blinked and stalked away, walking over to a glass faced refrigerator on the back wall and jerking it open. “Here you go!” she all but shouted as she yanked something from inside and stomped back to me. “Here’s the bouquet.” She tossed it underhanded and I had to scramble to catch it. “Enjoy the flowers. Hope Ms. Collins likes them. Have a nice day!” Once she finished her rapid-fire sentences, she sucked in a deep breath, spun on her heels, and disappeared through another door that led to somewhere else in the shop. I stood there for several seconds, the cold flowers in my hand, and I tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

It wasn’t until I heard an odd sound that I managed to shake off my stupor. “Son of a bitch!” I shouted. When I looked down, the beady-eyed rat/dog bastard had just finished unloading its freakishly large bladder all over my shoes.

Excerpts

EXCERPT: Pennies – Pepper Winters

“Do you always oppose the man in your bed or just me?” My hand lashed up, looping around her throat. “You just made me break the no touching rule so soon. Don’t make me break the other rules keeping me in line tonight.”
Her eyes locked onto mine, pooling with panicked uncertainty.
“Ah, that’s intrigued you.” Loosening my fingers, I didn’t threaten to throttle her, merely held softly, trapping her mind in her body rather than flying free. “I have many laws that run my life.” I bared my teeth. “Want to know a few?”
I waited for her to nod, to blink—to do something that could be a signal for yes.
But she was too good.
Or too terrified.
She’d gone iceberg white, her eyes as complex as snowflakes.
“You don’t like your neck being touched?” I removed more of my weight but didn’t withdraw my fingers. “Does he strangle you…is that why you’re looking at me as if I’ve grown horns?”
She didn’t respond in any way, but her pulse gushed like a riptide beneath my thumb. “Don’t focus on where I’m holding you. Focus on why I’m holding you.” My thumb caressed the side of her neck, tangling with the escaped hair I’d secured. “Focus on my questions.”

image

Blurb

“At 18 I had pennies, but money didn’t make me bold. At 19 I had dollars, but it didn’t dull the pain of being sold. At 20 I had hundreds, but then I met him and was found. At 21 I had thousands, but all I wanted was to be bound.”
“At 23 I had dollars, but life changed and made me rich. At 25 I had hundreds, but it wasn’t enough to stop my killing itch. At 27 I had thousands, but my reputation didn’t set me free. At 29 I had millions, but I met her and could finally see.”
Tasmin was killed on her 18th birthday. She had everything planned out. A psychology degree, a mother who pushed her to greatness, and a future anyone would die for. But then her murderer saved her life, only to sell her into a totally different existence.
Elder went from penniless to stinking rich with one twist of fate. His lifetime of crime and shadows of thievery are behind him but no matter the power he now wields, it’s not enough. He has an agenda to fulfil and he won’t stop until it’s complete.
But then they meet.
A beaten slave and a richly dressed thief. Money is what guided their separate fates. Money is what brought them together. And money is ultimately what destroys them.
She was poor.
He was rich.
Together…they were bankrupt.

Pennie$ is Book One in the Dollar Series
releasing July 2016

Pre-order your copy here:
iBooks: http://apple.co/1PofXwO
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