New Release/Giveaway/Excerpt

Title: Dirty Desires
Series: Devils Kings MC #3
Author: Nicole James
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: September 30, 2020
BLURB
A twist of fate threw us together…

Gypsy—

I’m a Devil King; loyal to no one but my club, until she comes along and tests everything I thought I believed in.

When I do a favor for my imprisoned ex-president’s ol’ lady, I come face to face with the one-night stand that’s haunted me for three years. She pulled a disappearing
Cinderella act on me, vanishing with the dawn. I searched high and low for her,
and now that I’ve found her—she’s the definition of off-limits. She’s an MC
princess—my MC’s princess. And even if her father no longer runs
things, she’s still forbidden with a capital F.

Tell that to my traitorous body that reacts every damn time she gets within sight of me.They say no good deed goes unpunished, and I’m learning this golden haired beauty could be the death of me.

Though our chemistry blazes, every second I spend with her risks the brotherhood we’ve just repaired.

Tess—

I’ve never wanted anything to do with my father’s filthy MC, The Devil Kings. With daddy dearest in prison, my mother is
falling apart. Her struggle with anxiety, drugs and money problems drag me back
from the independence I crave. She needs my help and my father holds the
key—literally.

But when he insists I get him information on the Devil Kings in exchange, I’m thrust into a world I want no part of. My father may be their EX-president, but I’m still
considered an MC princess.

When my mother pulls in a favor and arranges an escort for me down to the prison, he walks in—a patched member of the Devil Kings MC—and a memory from a one-night stand we had three years ago.

But there’s a reason I ditched him the next morning; I want nothing to do with men like my father. Gypsy is everything I need to steer clear of—he’s an outlaw, a Devil
King, dangerously sexy and loyal to his club.

As my mother’s world falls apart, my choice becomes clear.

But how do I choose between saving her and betraying the man I love?

PURCHASE LINKS
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
EXCERPT
Tess— 
I wake up and glance around. Nope, it wasn’t a dream. A clock by the bed says six a.m. I blink against the morning sun and stare over at the man in bed with me. He’s on his stomach, the sheet just barely covering his ass. The cute little dimples at the base of his spine are revealed. I go up on an arm to get a better view now that there’s light in the room, and that’s when my eyes hit the full back tattoo— the one I couldn’t see in the dark last night. 
I don’t need to read the words; the exact replica of the Devil Kings MC’s center patch tells me everything. 
Oh. My. God. What have I done? He’s turned away from me, and all I can see is his profile. Goddamn it, he can’t be one of them. No. I scream on the inside but keep still as a statue on the outside. My heart races, and I feel light headed. This can’t be happening. Lord, please tell me I did not just sleep with one of my father’s MC brothers. 
I scan the room, my gaze furtive. That’s when I spot the black leather cut hanging over the back of a desk chair, its colors on full display. Devil Kings MC, Georgia. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity-fuck! 
How could I have been so stupid? 
The last thing on this earth I want is to go down the same road my mother did. I worked too hard getting my associates degree in business administration and working my ass off at my job, fighting tooth and nail to be considered for the promotion to events planner to throw it all away for some biker, even if he is the best sex I’ve ever had. 
Panic sets in, and I know I have to get the hell out of this room, out of this house. Now. 
I slip from the bed, scoop up by clothes, and grab my little cross body bag that barely holds my phone and wallet. 
I tiptoe across the room and pause in the doorway. I can’t resist taking one last look at the man. He was amazing last night. We clicked sexually in a way I’ve never experienced. 
I sigh at the unfairness of it all and slip out. 
I move down the hall and stop in the kitchen to scramble into my clothes. It’s as neat as the rest of the house, and I wonder if there’s a girlfriend he’s cheating on who comes over and cleans his place. Asshole. I want to believe it because I want to wash away all the good from last night and replace it with a different painting—one of a jerk who’d cheat on his woman. It’ll be easier to walk away, and I know I have to walk away. There is no way in hell I’m getting involved with one of those bastards from my father’s MC. No fucking way. 
I quietly move through the garage and into the cool morning air. I jog half a block away before I pull my phone out and call Hayley. 
On the third ring, she picks up, sounding groggy as hell. “…’lo?” 
“It’s me,” I hiss. 
Her voice immediately perks up. “Tess? Where are you?” 
“I just walked away from his house. Can you come get me?” 
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine. But you aren’t going to believe who this guy is.”
ALSO AVAILABLE
FREE for a limited time!
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Always free in Kindle Unlimited
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
AUTHOR BIO
Nicole James is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal
bestselling author who loves writing about hot alpha men who’ll do anything for
the women they love! Her stories are filled with struggle, conflict and real
human emotion. She is the author of the Evil Dead MC series, the Brothers Ink
Tattoo series and more.
Nicole loves to hear from her readers! You can contact her via e-mail, her
website contact form or on her social media accounts.
AUTHOR LINKS

Cover Reveal/Pre-Order/Excerpt

Title: Easy to Lose

Author: S.A. Clayton
Genre: Second Chance Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 19, 2020
Publisher: Lady Boss Press
Cover Design: Kari March
Leaving New York after my now ex-fiancé cheated on me was easy. 
Moving back home to Miami to run Charly Boudreaux’s Head Over Heels expansion store, even as it scares the hell out of me…also easy.
Finding out that Owen Peters, my ex-best friend and the boy I fell in love with in high school, the one who broke my heart, works next door? Not quite so easy. 
Hearing that Morgan Lawson is finally coming home makes me ecstatic. It provides me with a second chance—something I waited ten years to grasp. 
Watching her struggle to accept the body she was born with, the one that makes me crazy with desire, allows me to show her exactly how beautiful she is, both inside and out—and how much she means to me. 
Letting her go the first time was a huge mistake, and I refuse to go down that road again. Because not realizing how easy she was to lose, or how not having her in my life makes me feel incomplete, is something I never want to experience again.


Owen

“It’s about time you showed up,” Matt calls as I close the door, locking it behind me. The guy looks as if he just rolled out of bed, his long, brown hair tied in a topknot as he struts around in his favorite grey sweatpants and a dirty t-shirt with our gym’s name across the chest. I look at my watch and laugh.

“I’m only five minutes late, jackass.” He throws a towel at me as I head behind the desk and turn on the computer. Matt and I opened this gym five years ago. We both graduated with majors in business and knew we wouldn’t ever be a part of the corporate world. So, we took what we learned and applied it to something we both loved: fitness. Was it an overnight success? Hell, no. It took at least three years to get out of the red. But last year was our best year yet, with this year rivaling even those numbers. 

“You know if you didn’t own this place, I could fire you, right?” I give him the finger as I check my email, quickly making sure there are no cancelations for today’s schedule.

Just as I’m about to log off, a new email pops up from one of my regulars. I open it and read:

Owen, sorry to do this to you last minute, but I have to cancel my session for this morning. Tommy was throwing up all night, and his fever has yet to go down, so I’m taking him to see the doctor. Sorry again. I’ll still pay for the session, and I’ll see you next week. –Amber

“Well, there goes my morning plans,” I mutter to myself just as Matt comes over and leans against the desk. 

“Amber cancel?” I nod, not surprised that Matt memorized my schedule. It’s why I had no issues with going into business with him. He’s organized, loyal, and has a memory that could rival Sheldon Cooper’s. “You really gonna make her pay for the session?” he asks, giving me a look I know well. 

“Of course, not. I’m not that big of an ass. Plus, her kid is sick. Ever since Ken left her, she’s had a lot on her plate.” When Amber started training with me, I knew she was motivated by her husband’s infidelity, something she was very vocal about. I believe she said she wanted him to wish he never stuck his dick in another woman. I told her I would be happy to get her that revenge, even though she already looked amazing for a forty-year-old single mom. 

“So, what are you gonna do now?” Matt asks, taking one of the mints from the bowl to my right and popping it into his mouth. 

“I don’t know. Might work out for a bit.” He nods just as my phone goes off, A second later, it goes off again, then again. I sigh, knowing exactly who’s blowing up my cell. 

“You haven’t cut her loose yet?” Matt asks with a knowing smirk that makes me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. “Calm down, man. If it was me, I would probably keep her around, too. She must be one hell of a lay.”

“Shut the fuck up and mind your own business,” I grunt as he shrugs and goes back to cleaning the equipment. I pick up my mobile and see one missed call and four unread texts. 

Bailey: Morning, handsome, what are you up to today?

Bailey: Why aren’t you answering my texts?

Bailey: Hello???

Bailey: Call me NOW.

I sigh, pulling up her contact and pressing the phone to my ear. She picks up after the first ring. 

“Where have you been?” she accuses as I tilt my head towards the ceiling, praying I can get through this conversation without blowing my top. 

“Bails, you know I open the gym every day. I was busy talking to Matt about my schedule.” She sighs, groaning into the phone, and for the millionth time this week, I wonder why I’m with her. In the beginning, it was amazing—she was hot, funny, and we had a great time together. Then, over time, she wanted more. More of my time, more of my attention, and more of my business. Bailey is an Instagram influencer and very proud of it. She should be, she’s worked really hard to get where she is today, but it’s become all-consuming. And she’s using my brand, something that I built from the ground up, to gain more and more of a following for herself. And it’s grating on my nerves.

It’s become clearer as time goes on that she’s with me for the clout and not for me, and I know I need to end it. For both of our sanities. 

“You never have time for me anymore,” she whines as I take a deep breath, needing strength to get through this conversation. There’s a huge crash from the store next door, and I jump up from my seat. 

“What was that?” Bailey asks as I motion to Matt that I’m going over to take a look. He nods as I head to the front door. 

“Bails, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” I don’t wait for her reply as I jerk open the front door and jog next door. The sign above the door says Head Over Heels, and the door and windows are covered in brown paper, letting me know that it’s under construction. I try the front door, and when it swings open, I walk inside. 

“Hello? Is everyone okay?” I ask, hearing my voice echo through the small space. I don’t see anyone around, but I do see a very large metal rack lying toppled on the floor and dust everywhere. The shop itself is pretty small, but from the looks of it, it’s cute. The walls are plain white with paint chips taped to every available surface. The colors range from grey to bright pink and everything in between. I have no idea what this space will become, but right now, it’s a mess. 

“Hello! I just wanted to make sure no one’s hurt after that thing fell,” I call again, making my way farther into the space, stepping over the broken shelf and heading towards the back of the store. 

“Sorry, yes, everything’s fine. The stupid thing doesn’t want to stay attached to the wall,” a woman says from behind the counter. Her long, blond hair and curvy figure send a jolt through my body, but the minute she turns around, my whole world stops moving. “Morgan?” I croak as I open my mouth to say something, anything…but nothing comes out. Morgan Lawson, the girl I spent most of my adolescence obsessing over is standing right in front of me. Given the color draining from her face, I would say she remembers exactly who I am, too. And from the fire I see in her eyes, she recalls precisely how much I ruined everything.

S.A. Clayton lives in a small town outside of Toronto, Canada with her husband of five years and her scary large collection of books that seem to take over every room.
She has worked on both sides of the publishing industry, both in a bookstore and for actual publishing companies. Although she loved both for different reasons, she found that writing was her true passion and has spent the last few years breaking into the industry as best she can.
She is a lover of all things romance and began her writing journey in her late twenties. Since then, she has immersed herself in the romance genre and couldn’t be happier.
When she’s not writing or reading, she enjoys binging a great Netflix show (Stranger Things anyone?), baking (because who doesn’t love cookies!), and spending time with her family.
HOSTED BY:

Cover Reveal/Giveaway/Pre-Order/Excerpt

Title: Revved to the Maxx

Author: Melanie Moreland
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 3, 2020
Cover Model: Nelson Lopes
Cover Photographer: Eric D. Battershell

Maxx Reynolds needs help.His shop, house, and life are all in a state of disarray.

In desperation, he turns to the internet to hire a new employee, thinking it will make his life easier.

What he expects is a fellow named Charly.

What he gets is a quirky, sassy, red-head name Charlynn who runs circles around him.

And she’s all woman.

He can’t stand her.

He can’t keep his hands off her either.

NYT/WSJ/USAT international bestselling author Melanie Moreland, lives a happy and content life in a quiet area of Ontario with her beloved husband of twenty-seven-plus years and their rescue cat, Amber. Nothing means more to her than her friends and family, and she cherishes every moment spent with them. 
 
While seriously addicted to coffee, and highly challenged with all things computer-related and technical, she relishes baking, cooking, and trying new recipes for people to sample. She loves to throw dinner parties, and also enjoys traveling, here and abroad, but finds coming home is always the best part of any trip. 
 
Melanie loves stories, especially paired with a good wine, and enjoys skydiving (free falling over a fleck of dust) extreme snowboarding (falling down stairs) and piloting her own helicopter (tripping over her own feet.) She’s learned happily ever afters, even bumpy ones, are all in how you tell the story.
 
Melanie is represented by Flavia Viotti at Bookcase Literary Agency. For any questions regarding subsidiary or translation rights please contact her at  flavia@bookcaseagency.com

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New Release/Giveaway/Excerpt

 

Title: Dirty Deals
Series: Devils Kings MC #2
Author: Nicole James
Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: July 9, 2020

Blurb
Rusty—
I’m the president
of the Devil Kings Atlanta MC. With a fractious club to rebuild and a revolving
door on my bedroom, the last thing I need is 5’4” of sex-on-a-stick trouble.
When a
mysterious beauty shows up with her playmate’s body, dark soulful eyes and a
bagful of cash, I’m willing to make an exception.
I don’t
fully trust her, but she needs my help.
Ashlynn—
Things are
finally good. I am one of the best high-roller hostesses on the strip. But I’ve
lived in Las Vegas two years and have yet to unpack my bags. Why? Because shit
always goes sideways.
I should
have known this time would be no different.
When I’m
asked to hostess a private poker game at a mega exclusive hotel penthouse, I
end up in the proverbial wrong place at the wrong time.
I’m the
soul witness to a double murder and I’m suddenly on the run again, but this
time I’m running for my life.
I get as
far as Atlanta before my Porsche blows a tire.
That’s when
he shows up. Dangerous. Drop-dead gorgeous. Scary badass biker. One I can’t
take my eyes off. Maybe this town is as good as any to lay low.
When
trouble tracks me down, I want to run again. But he has other plans.
He’ll
protect me—for a price.
My willing
body in his big bed—all night, every night.
That’s the
dirty deal he offers.
Dare I accept?
Where the
President of the Devil Kings is involved, there are no rules.
But I’ll
stand toe-to-toe with him and make it out of this bargain with my heart intact.
Because in the end, running is what I do best.

 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt
He locks
the door and prowls toward me.
“That’s a
real pretty dress, Hot Rod.” His eyes sweep over me. “You want to keep it in
one piece, you better take it off quickly. If I do it, it’s gonna be in
tattered shreds on the floor. That’s how badly I want you.”
His eyes
promise all kinds of things—dark things, dangerous things. He’s seducing me,
and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
I take a
step back, then another, enjoying the hunt, disobeying his demand. His eyes
fall on the pulse I can feel beating in my throat. He stalks me across the room
until I come up against the dresser. He stops two feet away. He reaches out,
and his callused fingertips glide along my collarbone. My skin tingles in
response, heat flames through my body like wildfire, and I tremble.
“I really
want to see what’s under this dress,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive lure as
he dips his head closer to mine.
“Does every
girl you bring in here fall at your feet?” I whisper, wondering just how
special I am.
Those
hypnotic eyes of his drift along my throat, and his finger brushes where my
rapid pulse beats. He moves closer, inching forward, crowding my space as his
head inclines toward mine. He dips down, his nose brushing along mine and his
voice goes rough. “Want to know what I think?”
“What?” I
breathe.
“I think
you look beautiful at my feet, staring up at me with those dark eyes I could
drown in. Makes my dick hard thinking of the last time you were on your knees,
taking me deep down your pretty throat.” He skates his hand up my neck,
encircling it, cuffing it, bringing my jaw up until our mouths are a breath
apart. “And I think you’re absolutely dying for another taste.”
I lick my
lips. I can’t deny it, any of it.
“Let me see
what’s under that dress, beautiful.” He drags his fingertips along the
neckline, and I’m powerless to resist. I pull the dress off my shoulders, and
it flutters over my body to pool on the floor.
His eyes
drag over every inch of me, and they light up with liquid desire. He sucks in a
breath and steps back to take it all in.
My breasts
are bare, my nipples tight with arousal. I’m wearing a tiny G-string panty
under the garter belt and lace-topped stockings, all in a golden glimmer.
The gold
stiletto heels with their sexy straps finish it off.
“Fucking
hell, woman. You’re a walking wet dream. Every man’s fantasy.
I stand,
slightly at a disadvantage, as he’s still fully clothed. It tilts the power
balance in his favor. Although, seeing the need in his eyes, I may have the
power over him right now. He wants me badly. I up the ante and whisper in a
throaty seductive voice, “I bought it for you, baby.”
His eyes
flare at my words, and he reaches for me.
He threads
his fingers into my hair, fisting it, and tugs, tilting my head until I have no
choice but to meet his eyes. His fingers curl around the back of my neck,
commanding and possessive and my insides melt.
Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Coming Soon
Releasing September 30
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Author Bio
Nicole James is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal
bestselling author who loves writing about hot alpha men who’ll do anything for
the women they love! Her stories are filled with struggle, conflict and real
human emotion. She is the author of the Evil Dead MC series, the Brothers Ink
Tattoo series and more.
Nicole loves to hear from her readers! You can contact her via e-mail, her
website contact form or on her social media accounts.

Author Links

 

🏳️‍🌈Release Tour/Excerpt

Title: A Sweet Man

Series: The Men of Halfway House
Author: Jaime Reese
Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance (stand alone)
Release Date: June 16, 2020

 

 

 

Two men. One sweet dream of family and forever.

 

Gabriel “Bull” del Toro loves his fast-paced globe-trotting job, but aches for an honest relationship and the trust that comes with it. After a few too many heartbreaks, he’s nearly given up hope of finding that special someone.
Until Ben.
Born deaf, Ben is used to working twice as hard for what he wants, but risking a newfound friendship on an impossible dream is scary. After all, there’s one lesson he’s learned: everything is temporary—freedom, friends, even family.
Neither man expects the undeniable spark between them or for every moment together to fuel that connection. For the first time, a happily ever after is within reach, but they must trust that the dream of acceptance, family, and a place to call home is more than a sweet fantasy.
It can be forever.
————
A Sweet Man is an interconnected standalone within The Men of Halfway House series. It is a story about the power of love, the meaning of family, and never giving up on a dream. It includes wounded hearts, an age-gap romance, and enough cake and sweetness to give you a toothache.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Mid-January

 

Ben ran into the bedroom and swung the door shut. He leaned back against the door, gasping each breath while clutching the cell phone to his chest. Seconds. It was all he had before that bastard came barging in to take what he wanted.
Pushing off the door, he leapt over his still packed duffle bag sitting on the floor and wedged his body in the narrow space behind the bed. He grabbed the edge of the bed frame and pushed.
Damn bed wasn’t moving.
He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, finally shoving the bed on its rusty wheels across the carpeted floor. With the bed bumped up against the door, he had a moment of reprieve to take a deep breath.
His eyes burned as he stared at the door and a memory flashed in his mind.
Once his parole had been granted, Sam had asked him to make a simple decision: Halfway House or this place.
Another stupid decision made.
He glanced around the room—at the peeling paint, dirty carpet, and iron bars on the windows. This place wasn’t Halfway House. Both houses were in Miami-Dade County and about an hour apart, but there was a world of distance between them.
Climbing onto the mattress, he knee-walked toward the foot of the bed. Carefully, he inched closer and flattened his hand against the worn faux wood. One pounding thump against the door vibrated against his palm.
Then another and another, each harder than the one before.
He gasped when the mattress shook beneath his knees.
A punch from Jake would cause some damage—he had a pulsing black eye to prove that.
He pulled his hand away. Even though he couldn’t hear it, he imagined each strike came with an accompanying yell. Maybe even a curse. Or two. He crab-walked backward, away from the door now visibly moving with each strike.
He retreated to the wall, keeping his eyes trained on the single point of entry in front of him. First day at the new halfway house and he already had to deal with bullies.
If he were at HH, things would be so different. The house owners would never allow violence under their roof. Julian would have swooped in like some super ninja and caught Jake’s fist midair.
Ben leaned back against the wall and slid down until his ass hit the dirty carpeted floor. He tightened his grip on the cell phone in his hand. The punch to the face had been a small price to pay if he still had his phone.
Correction… His lifeline.
Now he realized why Sam had to gain special permission for him to have one. Every place had different rules and having a cell phone was a violation of this house’s rules. That detail hadn’t clicked until two other residents had practically salivated at the sight of his phone when he had pulled it out from his back pocket to view the incoming text message. Like a pack of wolves, another resident had joined in. In true alpha form, Jake had pushed the three of them aside and taken the lead, delivering a punch to the side of Ben’s face that had shoved him to the ground.
They had expected him to quiver, give in, huddle into a ball or surrender his phone. They hadn’t counted on him tightening the grip on his lifeline or his speedy escape.
He banged his head back against the wall.
Bump, bump, bump.
He was tired of life kicking him in the nuts.
Tired of second-guessing every damn thing he did.
Tired of how he kept making the wrong decisions.
Five years ago, he had trusted the wrong people. Friends had used him as a scapegoat and that had resulted in a grand theft charge. The judge had shown him mercy during sentencing, splitting his time—twelve months in jail and four years on probation.
With the jail time completed, he had ended up at Halfway House while transitioning into his probation term. He had been on the right path afterward for almost two years. He had reconnected with his sister and had moved in with her. He had secured a steady job, working with Shaw. 
Until the day he had gotten into a friend’s car during his lunch break.
He hadn’t known the car was stolen. He couldn’t have guessed that one choice would have resulted in a probation violation that would send him to a state prison to complete the remaining two years of his sentence.  
He screwed his eyes shut, instantly wincing at the pain of his swelling eye.
He missed Julian and his partner, Matt. He missed Ryan and Shaw, the friends he had made during his stay at Halfway House. But he was too embarrassed to see any of them. Regardless of how many times he had analyzed the situation in his mind, it was his bad decision that had landed him in prison.
He wrapped his arms around his midsection. Times like these, he sought the comfort of his plush bunny. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but the worn plush rabbit was stuffed with family memories. Frayed and patched together like the sole survivor of a zombie experiment, the plush toy was likely lost, just like he felt. Or maybe someone had found it and discarded it with a cringe at its horror-movie-like appearance. It wouldn’t surprise him.
Everything was temporary.
His parents, the few people he thought were friends while growing up. The revolving door of families over the years.
His relationship with his sister.
He leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling, fighting back the tears. She had warned him to stay out of trouble. He hadn’t even had a chance to apologize to her before getting hauled away. He had burned that bridge. More like annihilated it with C4 for good measure.
After that, nothing had mattered. He didn’t care to see anyone else, even though Shaw had tried to visit him several times.
The sting in his eyes reappeared. He needed to look ahead and deal with this current situation. He shouldn’t have resisted Sam’s insistence on returning to Halfway House. But the thought of seeing the disappointment in Julian’s pale green eyes, or his partner’s sad smile, tore through Ben’s heart. He couldn’t risk disillusioning every person who might care. Matt would take Ben’s failure personally. And Julian would console his partner and share that pain.
He couldn’t do that to them.
The phone in his hand vibrated, pulling him from his thoughts. He swiped at the screen, blinking a few times. His heartbeat quickened as panic set in. His vision was a little fuzzy. Dammit. The black eye was going to be a problem. He needed the clarity. Otherwise, he’d have trouble reading text messages and other people’s lips. He pulled the phone closer and farther away, hoping to pinpoint a spot in his line of sight that would make the display clearer to read the new text message.
You didn’t respond. You ALWAYS respond. I’m on my way.
The knot in his chest lessened reading Sam’s words. His reintegration officer hadn’t given up on him after dropping him off at this nightmare of a house a few hours ago. He glanced up at the door when the bed shifted. Jake was pissed—pissed enough to hit the door hard enough to move the bed on the carpet.
He had to get out of here. Now.
He quickly texted a reply. I can’t stay here. His attention snapped up when the bed shifted again. He kicked out his feet and pushed them against the bed frame, hoping to add some additional resistance until Jake tired himself out. Please hurry, he wrote in another text before Sam had a chance to respond.
Life hadn’t been kind, but he managed the best he could, always trying to find the good in others.
But the people outside that door, in this place…there was no good here to find.
Ben closed his eyes and held his phone close to his chest, willing Sam to respond. He gasped when the phone vibrated moments later. He blinked a few times, focusing his vision, and releasing a shaky breath at Sam’s reply.
I’ll be there soon. I called Aidan. He’s on his way.
Ben’s shoulders slumped. Relief or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure. He battled with the nagging tug in the back of his mind, worried about seeing the detective again, the one who had taken the time to help Ben reconnect with his sister after so many years.
But he’d take the embarrassment. Aidan was the only man who could likely stop Jake with a simple glare, and make a few phone calls to push Sam’s request through the system to move Ben elsewhere. Right now, he’d take the rescue any way he could get it. Welcomed it with open arms, even if he needed to beg or subject himself to a reprimanding lecture.
He wouldn’t survive here.
They would eventually take his phone and wouldn’t care about the damage they left in their wake. A black eye could easily lead to a broken arm or hand if he continued to resist. Without his phone or use of his hands, he wouldn’t be able to communicate in the hearing world. 
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. 
After leaving his childhood home, there had only been one place where he had felt safe.
Right now, that was exactly where he needed to be.
He just hoped Sam arrived in time to take him there.

 

Jaime Reese is the alter ego of an artist who loves the creative process of writing, just not about herself. Fiction is far more interesting. She has a weakness for broken, misunderstood heroes and feels everyone deserves a chance at love and life. An avid fan of a happy ending, she believes those endings acquired with a little difficulty are more cherished.

 

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New Release/Excerpt


Title: Lotus Empowered
Author: Clairissa Sinclair
Genre: Romance
Release Date: June 20, 2020

The lights went out.

 

 
It wasn’t your run of the mill blackout. It was the final step in a series of carefully orchestrated occurrences that crashed communication satellites, GPS, internet connections and anything containing a computer chip. In just a few days all of the conveniences that modern society relied upon to get through life were gone and the world was thrust backward in time inciting a power struggle of epic proportions.
 
Lotus McClean found herself stranded in the mountains of Virginia when the world went black. When everyone around her panicked, Lotus knew what needed to be done. After all, she grew up completely off the grid, on the family farm where free-love was the norm and marajuana was the cash crop.
 
Standing strong on her own, loneliness and vulnerability keep her away from people and in the safety of the old Mountain Inn that she calls home. Three very different men from different walks of life seek refuge in the motel and in her bed.
 
Can they survive and thrive in a harsh new world?
 
Warning: This book is intended for mature readers over the age of 18. It includes intense sexual situations, including MMFM and MM relations, adult language and violence.
 

I was truly alone. 

 

 

 

Day after day, I worked my ass from sun up until sundown, at almost a frantic pace, making sure I had the supplies in that I would need to survive another winter. Slowing down wasn’t an option. In the rare moments that I did sit down to relax and just breathe, it was too quiet. I found my thoughts wandering back to the farm and the flutter of activity, especially when we were preparing for winter. I had a tribe then. I had friends and family that I could rely on when I needed them. Now I just have me.
 
Night after night, I curled up, alone, under Shirlee’s patchwork quilt. Alone. All alone. It was eating me alive. I’ve read every book in the house and played hundreds of games of solitaire with the dog-eared Bicycle playing cards. I have given every animal on the property a name and a cartoon character-ish voice, and I talk to them while I’m feeding and cleaning up their pens. I spend my nights twisting cord and weaving baskets by candlelight, but the silence is deafening. I long for human contact. Some nights my skin aches for the touch of a man.
 

 

Four weeks into my solo life on the mountain, the need for human contact got the best of me. Despite the dangers, I found myself going into town for Swap Meet Sunday out of pure loneliness more than the need for anything in particular. I swapped one of Ozzy and Harriet’s kids for six more chickens and some heirloom tomato seeds and half a jar of instant coffee. I traded water filtration drops for a big bunch of sweet red beets and a pair of night-vision goggles for a bushel of peaches. The woman who made delicious goat cheese was always willing to swap for wine.

 

 
The atmosphere in town has changed somewhat for the better. The Sheriff and his men have things under control, at least by the light of day. The laws are upheld with an iron fist now, and violators are subject to pay the ultimate price for their crimes. Thieves and looters are shot on sight, and their names posted on the old community bulletin board at the entrance to the park, along with “missing person” notices. The board has also become a place for drifters to pin notes and letters that they’ve carried from other towns since there is no other organized mail system. I find nothing there with my name on it, which plunges me just a wee bit deeper into depression. I was hoping to at least hear that Pete and Shirlee had made it safely to Pasco.
 
There’s a curfew now. No one is allowed on the streets after dark except for Sunday nights, where the church hosts bible study and a barn dance. Violators are shot, Monday through Saturday, but the law in these parts are a religious crew, I suppose, and they make the one-night a week exception in the Lord’s name.
 
Pete and Shirlee had been gone for another six weeks or so when I broke down and made the long walk towards town again. I swore I wouldn’t, I told myself that I was safer on my own, but the loneliness was overwhelming. I was hoping for news of my friends and desperate for companionship. Again, there was no news on the community bulletin board. I checked and rechecked three times. The only new information was the names of eight more citizens that killed in the process of committing crimes on the shame wall.
 
Today, I finally let the nice church ladies talk me into sticking around for the sundown barn dance. “You need to meet a nice young man, Miss Lotus.” The sweet grey-haired granny declared. 
 
“It’s not safe to be up there on the mountain by yourself.” Her equally ancient friend insisted. I smile and nod, but I doubt it will measure up to dancing naked around a blazing fire like in my youth, but at least I won’t be alone tonight.
 
I cleaned myself up in the powder room of the church hall. Removing my plaid flannel shirt and stuffing it into my backpack, I left on a black wife beater with my jeans and combat boots. I washed the dust and sweat from my face in the basin and combed out my hair. Braiding it tightly, I pulled a few strands loose and let them fall on the sides of my face. A quick whore bath and fresh deodorant completed my dance look. 
 
The celebratory atmosphere reminded me just a bit of the ranch, minus the constant presence of marijuana smoke and, of course, the nudity. It didn’t take long for me to relax and enjoy the night. A classic country band was composed of half a dozen guys from age eighteen to about eighty that played a variety of string instruments, drums, spoons, and a washboard. They took turns singing lead and were off-key more than on, but the music was still a welcome relief from silence. It was wonderful to be around other people. I struck up a few conversations with the cheese lady and some of the locals. Mostly we talked about canning recipes, gardening, and edible plants.
 
There were more men than women present, perhaps as many as three to one. The ladies got quite a heavy work out on the dance floor. It was probably about eight o’clock, and I’d already received two marriage proposals and more cheesy pickup lines than I could handle. The preacher had a flask of rum in his jacket and offered me a swig after a rollicking two-step to a Garth Brooks song. It didn’t escape my attention that he was looking down my shirt when he gave me a few more. I’m not much of a drinker. Just a few little sips and I was feeling no pain.
 
Even the sheriff was starting to look good. He looked dignified and sexy in his khaki uniform, hat, and gold six point star pinned to his muscular chest, while pacing the room, on the prowl for trouble makers. Unfortunately, he’s married. She’s very pregnant and hovers next to him the entire night, scowling at any ladies that get too close to her man. That and the fact that he’s an enormous douchebag took him off of my list of possible partners.
 
My current dance partner is a twenty-something-year-old farmer with a dimple in his chin. He’s young and handsome and virile and has enormous calloused working man’s hands, and he’s wearing skin-tight faded Levis that make me want to sink my teeth into his tight little ass. It’s such a shame when he opens his mouth because he was perfect until he spoke, “I’ve seen you at the swap meet, you know.” 
 
“Oh, really?” I respond, curious to see where this conversation is going. 
 
“Yup. I told my friend Bobby over there.” He pointed to his similarly dressed friend who smiled and winked at us before he continued, “That I’d eat you good. You seem like a woman that knows how to take care of her pussy. Nothing worse than dirty pussy. I bet you still shave.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “Most women stopped shaving their poontang when the lights went out.” Fuck. Ew. Revolting! Not happening. Hottie McFarmer has successfully obliterated any sexual fantasy from my dirty mind. I need a good man and not a horny boy. 
 
“I need to use the ladies’ room.” I excuse myself leaving the good looking redneck in the middle of the dance floor, all alone.
 
I don’t even know how to respond to that comment. On the bright side, I suppose that it’s a good thing that I present myself in a manner that clearly says, “I wash my crotch.” The entire conversation cracks me up, and I’m still giggling to myself when I slam the door of the wooden outhouse behind the hall and head back inside towards the music. 
 
“Hey, pretty lady. How about a dance.” 
 
There were three of them. All older men, maybe in their forties and up with greasy hair and tobacco-stained teeth. They could have been younger and just aged by hard-living and homemade crystal meth. It’s tough to say for sure. Regardless, they were all wearing jackets with rebel flags on them like some kind of semi-geriatric street gang. I have no idea where they came from because I completely let my guard down. Fear, I found out, sobered me up faster than a pot of Maxwell House.
 
“Maybe later.” I said calmly, trying my best to sound braver than I was feeling, “I left my friend on the dance floor. I need to get back inside.” I tried to slip between them, but they blocked me in between their sweaty bodies and the outhouse. 
 
“Nah baby, you don’t need to go back in there with the Jesus crew. We can have our own little party out here. You can be the guest of honor.” He ran his fingers up my arm and grabbed my braid, bringing the tip of it to his nose and inhaling deeply. 
 
The one that I assumed to be the senior member by his grey hair and deep wrinkles grabbed a handful of my ass and squeezed hard enough to take my breath away. Bile rose in my throat. “Be nice to us, and we’ll be nice to you, lady.” He hissed in my ear. He planted a wet, slurpy kiss to my neck that made my skin crawl. The smell of tooth rot and tobacco filled my nose, and his fingers dug into my arms, leaving hand-shaped bruises. 
 
Panicking, I twisted and fought with everything inside of me. My black hiking boot made contact with the older man’s kneecap, which only succeeded in pissing him off even more. He wrapped one arm around my neck, capturing my throat in the crook of his arm. “Keep fighting, girl. It makes it all the sweeter.” He growled. Gasping for air, I wasn’t able to push enough from my lungs to form a scream. My nails clawed at his forearms, drawing blood and leaving long red lines. Another pair of hands grabbed a handful of my breasts and twisted them painfully, while yet more hands gripped my ankles and tried to subdue me from any further counter-attack. 
 
I sank my teeth into the hand closest to my mouth and clamped down, which earned me a sharp backhand and a dirty bandana stuffed in my mouth, “This one has a little too much sass. Get her pants down, boys. I’m gonna teach this little cunt some manners.” Slightly dazed from the bitch smack, and completely under their control, I felt a cold rush of air on my thighs and the scrape of denim over my bottom. I heard the jingle of his belt buckle, and I knew what was coming next. My blood ran ice cold through my veins.
 
A fresh wave of adrenaline surged through my body and twisted my wrists free. I wasn’t going to lie there and let it happen. I was going down fighting. Growling with pure hatred, I swung my fist with every ounce of strength I had, but the younger man quickly caught my hand before my knuckles made contact with his grinning face. The leader of the pack laughed at my feeble attempt to fight them off and dropped his pants to the ground. Standing over me, he hocks up a loogie into his mouth and spits into the palm of his hand. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he rubbed his semi flaccid penis, “Hold her open for me, Clint. Gotta make sure the pussy isn’t diseased.” 
 
His friend cackled, “You’d fuck it if you had to chip off the scabs.” I closed my eyes and squeezed them tight, like it would keep out the horror that was coming my way, and swallowed down the bile that was rising in my esophagus.
 
My attacker dropped to his knees, which pressed into my thighs, holding them open for his assault. The brown juice from the gob of chew in his mouth dribbled down his beard and landed on my face. I wanted to shut my brain off from everything that was happening to my body. I tried to block out my rape by visualizing the ranch and pretending I was there.
 
The heavy metallic click of a bullet being chambered in a very large caliber handgun brought me back into the here and now, “I don’t think the lady is interested. Hands off boys.” 
 
It wasn’t the sheriff, but one of his sworn deputies that had instantly become my hero. All three men put their hands up, and I darted out of their grip and hid behind the officer’s legs, spitting out the dirty bandana and struggling to fill my lungs with clean fresh air. “Are you ok?” He asked me, looking down on me. I nodded quickly because I was still shaking uncontrollably and too stunned to use my words. My heart was threatening to hammer it’s way out of my chest, and I struggled for control.
 
“Run along now, boys. And stay away from the lady, or I’ll shoot you myself.” They grumbled and bitched under their breath while they walked away in the direction of Main Street. I know I heard, “asshole cop” and, “motherfucker ruined our fun”. 
 
When words finally formed, I was outraged. “Aren’t you going to arrest them?” I panted, “They were about to rape me.” I realized that I still had a death grip on the pantleg of his neatly pressed uniform and forced myself to let go. My jeans were tangled and twisted. Brushing the grass and twigs out of them, I pulled them up over my ass with shaking hands. Deep breaths. I kept telling myself. Just take deep breaths and get a grip. I struggled to calm myself as the adrenaline wore off. 
 
“Can’t. I’m Emory, by the way. Deputy Emory Lang.” 
 
“Lotus McClean. You’re not going to arrest them?” Anger, shock and disbelief, or some lethal combination of all three surged through my system. 
 
Even more annoying is Deputy Lang’s blase attitude, “Ha, well, I would, but there’s no room at the jail right now. Can’t arrest anyone on an, “attempted” anything anymore. Sheriff’s rule. Has to be an actual crime. You don’t live in town, do you?” I still can’t stop my hands from trembling enough to button and zip my fucking jeans but at least my ass is covered. I take a few more deep breaths and try to pull myself together. 
 
Emory offers me a hand, which I take and he pulls me to my feet. Eye to eye, I get a good look at him. He’s not a bad looking man. A little skinny for my taste but not hard on the eyes. He has a weak chin. I never really knew what that meant before, but now I understand completely. I’m still pissed off. Maybe even more pissed off that those assholes are just going to walk away. “Un-fucking-believeable. So if you were a minute later, and one of them stuck their dick inside of me, then they would be arrested? And no, I don’t live in town!”,I intentionally answer vaguely. 
 
He picked a dried up leaf out of my hair, “I know it sounds bad, but we only have three cells and they are full. If it makes you feel any better, I probably would have just shot him if he stuck his dick in you.” He winked at me, like it was our little secret joke or something. He fucking winked! I’m sure he would have shot the guy. Law Enforcement has certainly changed since the lights went out. “We do a damn fine job of keeping the peace, under the circumstances. We’ve got the looting under control at least and we do what we can to protect the law abiding citizens. What brought you into town today, Miss McClean? It is Miss, isn’t it?” He hadn’t yet released my hand from where he helped me stand, so I pulled it away from his grasp under the pretense of brushing dust and gravel off my backside.
 
I know what he means when he explains that the Sheriff got the looting under control. The “Looting or stealing equals a bullet to the head” policy is posted all over town and strictly enforced. 
 
I’m too stunned that a law enforcement officer would minimize the fact that I was physically assaulted and almost raped for it to register in my mind that he’s flirting with me. Awkwardly, but still flirting with a victim. “Um, yes. I came to town for the swap meet and the church ladies talked me into staying for the dance.” My heartbeat is slowly returning to a normal rhythm and my knees aren’t knocking together anymore.
 
The deputy grins, “Probably Gilda and Ida. There’s an over abundance of single men in town now and not enough beautiful women to go around.” 
 
“I noticed.” He led me back towards the lantern light of the church recreation center but my feet won’t move any further than the door. I can’t go back in there. Not now. I can’t listen to bad pick up lines and half-hearted marriage proposals from men who are just as lonely as I am. The truth is that I’m too fucking scared to walk home in the dark, all alone right now. I’m simply in need of comfort in the form of strong masculine arms wrapped around my shaking body. “So, Deputy Lang.” I stop in my tracks and turn towards him, close enough so that I can smell his powerfully strong aftershave. Blinking back the tears that are threatening to fall, I force a tight smile to my bruised lips, “I’m finished with dancing for tonight. How about we go over there behind the church rectory, and I’ll show you just how much I appreciate your intervention during my bad situation with the boys from Deliverance?” 
 
Emory wasn’t hard to convince. “Well Miss McClean, I do believe you’re trying to seduce me.” He leaned into me and brushed the hair that escaped my braid in the tussle securely behind my ear. 
 
“Is it working?” I ask him, already knowing the answer to my question by the growing tent in the front of his chinos. 
 
“Definitely.”
 
I wish I could say that the encounter was gratifying. It might have been, had it lasted more than two minutes and I didn’t have tears rolling down my face. Emory was a soft kisser, with a tongue that seemed to explore every tooth in my mouth. Still reeling from the assault, I wanted to be held and cuddled more than I wanted the sex, but that wasn’t to be. I wanted more and settled for much less.
 
Bending me over the cement steps to the back door of the minister’s residence, I let him take me. Sadly, Deputy Lang finished the race and I was barely out of the starting gate. I’ll give him credit where credit is due, he did provide nearly five minutes of spectacular post-coital cuddling, before he pulled up his pants and buckled his tactical belt. “I’ve gotta get back to my patrol. I hope we can get together again Miss McClean. Sometime soon.” 
 
I let him kiss me goodbye, before he tipped his hat and disappeared into the dark streets. I walked home in the darkness crying silent tears and with my loaded pistol cocked in my hand. My heart skipped a beat at every little sound in the night for the entire three hour walk up the mountain. The lonely Inn was my safe haven. I curled up on the sofa and hid underneath the patchwork quilt that Shirlee made and sobbed until the morning light illuminated the great room. In the safety of the light of day, I slept.
 
That’s the first and last barn dance I’ll be attending.
 
I’d made my peace with being lonely and turned my focus back towards winter prep. I was doing my best to keep Pete’s traps and lines set, but with hunting, caring for the livestock, canning, gardening and foraging, there was barely enough daylight to get all of the work done. I kept hoping and praying to whatever deity would listen for Pete and Shirlee to make it home, but as the summer wore on with no word from them, my hopes diminished. 
 
Resolved. That’s what I was. I resolved to survive the winter on my own.

 

Clairissa Sinclair was born in upstate New York but calls sunny Tampa Florida home. She lives with her boyfriend and two very spoiled teacup Chihuahuas. By day she works at the local police department as a Code Enforcement Officer, at night she writes “Sin-fully Delicious” stories filled with imperfect people who find their own strength in the end. When she’s not working or writing, she can be found in the Gulf of Mexico, swimming, fishing or snorkeling, or at the closest thrift store, hunting for treasure.
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New Release/Excerpt

Title: Falling for the Single Dad
Series: The Single Dads of Seattle
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre: Rom/Com, Single Dad, Erotic Romance
Release Date: June 13, 2020

When a blast from the past could blow up the future. 
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Dads of Seattle. Ten sexy single fathers who play poker every Saturday night, have each other’s backs, love their children without quarter, and hope to one day find love again. 
This is Liam’s story … 
Single Dad of Seattle, Liam Dixon has a kick-*ss life. He’s a successful divorce attorney with a great kid, and an ongoing Wednesday night no-strings booty call. But seeing his fellow single dads fall in love and happier than ever, he begins to question his own life. He wants more with Richelle. A future. Finally ready to sweep Richelle off her feet, a woman who broke his heart over twenty years ago unexpectedly knocks on his door desperate for his help.
Single mom, Richelle LaRue might not be five-feet-tall, but her personality and strength are that of an Amazon. She takes no prisoners and gives zero f*cks. A damn good divorce attorney, she won’t let any man push her around, including Liam and his ridiculous idea of a “relationship.” If it’s not broke, don’t fix it. With her past behind her, life is finally good and she’s determined to give her daughter a bright and shiny future.
But when Liam’s ex shows up, her story rocks Richelle to her core, and she and Liam take the woman’s case. What should be a simple divorce suddenly turns dangerous. Richelle finds herself–and those she loves–caught in the crossfire while Liam is torn between the past and the present, with their future dangling precariously in the balance.
 
Can Richelle let down her walls and trust when everything she holds dear is threatened, or will finally falling for the single dad be more than her heart can bear?
 
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you like single dads who take charge, this book is for you.
“Have you seen my underwear?” she asked, her hawklike amber eyes scanning the bedroom floor. “Hot pink G-string.” Her lips spread, revealing perfect teeth and a salacious feline smile. “One of your faves, I believe.”
“You mean these?” he asked, his teeth now clenched around one of the strings.
She glanced up at him, her socks and shirt in her hand. “Those would be them, yes.”
He plucked the G-string from his teeth and held them on one finger. “Come get them.”
His eyebrows bobbed in a way that easily conveyed the payment required for retrieving her underwear.
That mouth he knew like the back of his own hand continued to smile. “No time, stud. I have a deposition at nine this morning. Can’t be late if I intend to kill it. Then I’m off to Mallory’s school for career day.” She grumbled, “How fun is that going to be? Going to a school and telling five-hundred-plus kids how rewarding it is being a divorce attorney …”
She wandered around to the side of the bed and bent down, giving him the ultimate view of her cleavage. He slipped his free hand into one of her cups until he found a nipple and tugged. The moan that rumbled in her chest told him she might not have the time, but she’d certainly make it.
Her lips hovered above his. “I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” He lunged forward and took her bottom lip between his teeth.
She groaned, and her eyes squeezed shut. He could see her resistance crumbling. Feel the heat of her body and the way it radiated off her in a new way, a way he’d come to recognize and respond to primitively. The woman was a sexually charged animal. She also took control in the bedroom most of the time—which Liam had no qualms with—and by the time they parted ways Thursday morning, he was exhausted, achy, drained and happy as fuck.
But he also knew how to make his lioness purr. He knew how to make her roll over to her back, show her belly and become a playful kitten.

 

To look at her, you’d never expect the four-foot-eleven woman with short blonde hair, hawklike eyes, and the arms of a professional MMA fighter to be as fierce as she was. She reminded him of Tinker Bell—with an ax to grind. Hence, the nickname Tink or Tinker Bell that he’d given her ages ago. He’d even gone so far as to buy her a Tinker Bell costume one time (a sexy one, of course), and he wore a generic pirate’s costume for a little bit of role-playing.

 

A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
 
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.

 

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⁂ᑕᗝᐯᗴᖇ ᖇᗴᐯᗴᗩᒪ/ᗴ᙭ᑕᗴᖇᑭ丅/ᑭᖇᗴ-ᗝᖇᗪᗴᖇ ⁂

 

 

Title: Dirty Deals
Series: Devils Kings MC #2
Author: Nicole James
Genre: Romantic Suspense

Cover Design: Lori Jackson Designs

Photo: Wander Aguiar Photography

Model: Roddy Hanson

Release Date: July 9, 2020

Blurb
Rusty—
I’m the president
of the Devil Kings Atlanta MC. With a fractious club to rebuild and a revolving
door on my bedroom, the last thing I need is 5’4” of sex-on-a-stick trouble.
When a
mysterious beauty shows up with her playmate’s body, dark soulful eyes and a
bagful of cash, I’m willing to make an exception.
I don’t
fully trust her, but she needs my help.
Ashlynn—
Things are
finally good. I am one of the best high-roller hostesses on the strip. But I’ve
lived in Las Vegas two years and have yet to unpack my bags. Why? Because shit
always goes sideways.
I should
have known this time would be no different.
When I’m
asked to hostess a private poker game at a mega exclusive hotel penthouse, I
end up in the proverbial wrong place at the wrong time.
I’m the
soul witness to a double murder and I’m suddenly on the run again, but this
time I’m running for my life.
I get as
far as Atlanta before my Porsche blows a tire.
That’s when
he shows up. Dangerous. Drop-dead gorgeous. Scary badass biker. One I can’t
take my eyes off. Maybe this town is as good as any to lay low.
When
trouble tracks me down, I want to run again. But he has other plans.
He’ll
protect me—for a price.
My willing
body in his big bed—all night, every night.
That’s the
dirty deal he offers.
Dare I accept?
Where the
President of the Devil Kings is involved, there are no rules.
But I’ll
stand toe-to-toe with him and make it out of this bargain with my heart intact.
Because in the end, running is what I do best.

 

Pre-order Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Excerpt
Rusty—
I’m standing at the gun counter of the local sporting goods
store wishing I were anywhere else. Reno dragged me in here with him to get a
birthday present for his ol’ lady, Kara. I had no idea he meant a pistol. He’s
got a little Sig Sauer P238 in his hand, pink camo, no less.
“She’s left-handed,” he tells the sales guy.
“No problem. We can order her the external thumb safety
conversion kit.”
Reno nods. “I’ll need that.”
“It’s a good little gun. Light weight, no recoil, and the
slide’s easy,” the guy says.
“She’ll love it,” I agree, grinning. “All chicks want a
gun.”
“Don’t be a dick. I want her to be safe,” he snaps.
I can’t help giving him hell. Butterfly’s kept him on his
toes for months. The boy is head-over-heels lovesick. I can’t help feeling a little
jealous.
The clerk moves off to order the conversion kit and another
clerk waits on someone further down the long glass case that extends about
twenty feet across the back wall of the store.
“What can I help you with, ma’am?”
I’m leaning on the glass with an elbow, facing Reno, my back
to them, when I hear the woman respond.
“I’m looking for a small handgun, please.”
I recognize the voice straight off. It’s the beauty I
encountered on the side of the road last week. I straighten, my head swiveling
to look over my shoulder. It’s her, all right. My first thought is I can’t
believe my luck. My second is, what the hell is she doing in here, and buying a
gun, no less? I abandon Reno and walk closer so I can overhear the
conversation, but hang back near a display, pretending a sudden interest in
duck calls. The old man waiting on her shows her the features and benefits of a
small Ruger.
She tries it in her hand. With hardly more consideration
that she’d take picking out a pack of gum, she hands it back. “I’ll take one.
Can you put it in a case for me?”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but there’s a waiting period. You won’t
be able to take it with you today. I’ll need to fill out some paperwork first
and you’ll have to come back to pick it up.”
“Oh.” Her body deflates at the news, and she swallows. “I
see. All right.”
The old man moves off to get the necessary forms, and I move
in.
Almost immediately she feels my presence and her head jerks
up. When she sees me, her eyes widen. “Oh, it’s you.”
“How are you?”
“Fine and you?”
I frown down at her. She seems nervous. I lift my chin at
the Ruger sitting in the glass case. “Please tell me I’m not the reason you’re
buying that gun, darlin’.”
Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Nicole James is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal
bestselling author who loves writing about hot alpha men who’ll do anything for
the women they love! Her stories are filled with struggle, conflict and real
human emotion. She is the author of the Evil Dead MC series, the Brothers Ink
Tattoo series and more.
Nicole loves to hear from her readers! You can contact her via e-mail, her
website contact form or on her social media accounts.

Author Links

 

Book Tour/Excerpt

Title: Starting the Riot
Series: Riot MC #0.5
Author: Karen Renee
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: April 28, 2020
Jackie Eastmon’s life changes after a brutal attack on her best friend. While getting Simone the help she needs, Jackie meets a rough, burly biker.
 
Henry “Volt” Adler, President of the Riot MC Jacksonville chapter, admires Jackie’s rarely found spunk and dedication to Simone. The timing is all wrong for him to pursue Jackie. He runs into her nearly two years later, and he will stop at nothing to make her his.
 
Jackie struggles with this bossy, alpha-male in her life. When she learns he knows who attacked Simone but hasn’t made them pay, she questions if he’s the man for her.

Upon the two-year anniversary of the attack, Simone attempts suicide, and Volt hates seeing Jacqueline hurting for her friend. He orders his brothers to make the attackers pay for what they did to Simone.
His lips quirked. “I want to stay, but I really gotta go. Though, not until you kiss me goodbye.”
He was insatiable. 
Before we even got out the door of the clubhouse, he backed me up against a wall and we had a make out session in the middle of the common room. There were three other bikers present, but had they not been there, I think Volt would’ve commenced wall-sex with me. As it was, he worked me up with his hand outside my jeans and only when I was squirming against him did he stop and drag me out to his bike. Then at Panera, he insisted we sit outside at a secluded table and he made out with me in between bites of bagel and sips of coffee.
With a sideways grin, I asked, “I haven’t kissed you enough this morning?”
“Are you lookin’ for a spanking?”
He pulled me close and planted his lips on mine. I slanted my head, and he took the invitation to deepen the kiss. My hands slid around the back of his neck. His arms tightened forcing my breasts tight to his chest.
“Oh, my,” I heard Andrea say in a low voice. 
Volt tried to pull away from me, but I chased after his lips with mine. I could sense he wanted to cut this short, but I became more aggressive and he growled into my mouth. For a moment I debated dragging him to my room, but he wrenched free of my lips and my hold.
“Jacqueline. You’re going to pay for that.”
“You asked for it,” I chided in a husky voice.
His hands, still on my ass, squeezed. “Call you later, baby.”
I closed the door behind him, locked it, and turned to find Andrea at the table chewing her omelet. 

 

She swallowed and pointed her fork at me. “I might have to get a job at Carmine’s so I can find a man to kiss me like that.”
Karen Renee is the author of the Riot MC Series. She has wanted to be a writer from a very early age, and she’s finally bringing that dream to life. She has worked in advertising, banking, and local television media research. She is a proud wife and mother, and a Jacksonville native. When she’s not at the soccer field or cooking, you can find her at her local library, the grocery store, in her car jamming out to some tunes, or hibernating while she writes and/or reads books.
 
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New Release/99Cents/Giveaway

Title: Original Sin
Series: The Order of Vampires #1
Author: Lydia Michaels
Genre: Paranormal Romance / Vampires / Romantic Suspense
Release Date: May 12, 2020
Publisher: Bailey Brown Publishing
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Adam Hartzler has always been an honorable immortal, but the fine line between right and wrong begins to blur when he is called to his true mate. If he does not find and claim her soon, he will lose his soul and humanity, transforming into a vile predator controlled by insatiable bloodlust, sentenced to a demonic and tortured eternity as a vampire.

 

 

 

Adam sets out on a quest to hunt his mate and claim her before it is too late. His salvation relies on his destined mate’s surrender, but when she refuses to cooperate, Adam must set aside his morals and do what is needed to survive. Time’s slipping away with his control, and his territorial instincts refuse to let her go.
 
Annalise Snow awakens on a primitive farm removed from modern civilization and in fear of her life. Her captor is determined to keep her prisoner and believes he is somehow entitled to her future. But she will not surrender easily. When Adam asks for the ultimate sacrifice, she must decide if he lives or dies.
 
Passion and emotion collide in an explosive meeting of destined souls, but love is never a guarantee, especially when eternity begins with betrayal. 
 
Lifting a towel from the basket in the corner, he shut his eyes and inhaled, pressing the fabric to his nose. His body instantly hardened, his instincts driving him to her bed where she slept soundly.

She lay in the center of the bed, dwarfed by the large mattress. Her limbs twisted in the white sheet. Waves of copper and gold splayed across the pillow. So still. So delicate. So … his.

Satisfied with God’s selection, he studied his prize. His salvation. His future. His
beautiful Annalise.

Hooking a finger into the sheet, he slowly drew the blanket toward the foot of the bed.

A simple undershirt, covering little more than her breasts, gave a transparent
picture of her curves.

Narrow ribs tapered into a tiny waist he’d be able to span with his hands. Her hips flared, as a healthy woman’s should. His head cocked as the sheet fell to the side, exposing her legs. A wisp of material, too small to be considered a garment, covered her sex.

“What evil is this?”

He inhaled deeply, wondering at the strange covering. Females of the order wore handmade undergarments, loosely fitting with ties. The men wore nothing under their clothes. But this…

Lowering to the bed, he sat gingerly beside her hip and studied her. The overwhelming need to touch her, mark her, stole through him hard and fast, leaving all other instincts second.

He wanted to feed from her vein as his body throbbed inside of hers, filling her
with his seed. He wanted to possess every part of her—mind, body, and soul.

“Beautiful, Annalise,” he whispered.

Unlocking his fists, he traced the back of his finger along the soft white expanse of her thigh. Goosebumps prickled her flesh, and a small moan escaped her throat.

“You will know my touch and feel it often.”

Drawing slow whirls over her hip, his fingertip treaded lightly across the elastic of her minimal undergarment. Her skin showed like ivory in the moonlight. Silver pools of blue painted her pale skin. She was a masterpiece. Hard points formed under her shirt as he dragged his exploring finger up her arm. He ached to trace his touch over the turgid tip but refrained.

A soft moan slipped past her plump lips and her legs shifted, her hips burrowing into the mattress. Could she sense his desire?

His need to touch and possess her left him shaken. Withdrawing his caress, his gaze traveled over her torso. Each breath expanded her ribs and lifted her breasts.

His inspection climbed the narrow column of her throat and stilled at her
fluttering pulse.

Arousal slammed into him. A bone deep hunger ached inside of him, begging him to claim her. His tongue traced under his fangs as he leaned closer, breathing in her delicate fragrance, feeding off the scent of such a vulnerable offering. So small. So fragile. So in need of a mate. His jaw widened—

He sprang off the bed, startled by the powerful trance she held over him. It was as if she had him under some sort of spell.

Forking a hand through his hair, he paced silently. He wanted her now, consequences be damned. How long would he have to wait? Would it really matter? Their futures were decided. Why not now?

Battling with his conscience, he crouched at the foot of the bed, his greedy stare
traveling up her legs. His thumb dragged along the inside of her ankle, gliding
upward to her knee and pulling her legs apart. Her scent intensified.

Closing his eyes, he breathed her in. This was his mate, his one and only, his ainsicht.

The beat of her heart seemed to complement his, like the tease and retreat of the ocean waves beating back the banks of the shore. The rush of blood pumping through her veins rattled his concentration. It sung to him, a siren’s call that compelled an answer.

His skin burned like the tongues of a fire, licking at his insides, his burning desires heating his blood to volcanic degrees. He needed to leave. Now.

Taut as a bow, he forced himself away from the bed for her protection. Never had he fought such temptation. Carnal images assaulted him. Her body clinging to his, flesh gliding over flesh. Nails digging into muscle. Fangs piercing skin.

His cock throbbed, pleading that he take her and claim what was rightfully his. Heart hammering against his ribs, he staggered back from the bed. His control was slipping. If he touched her now, he’d break her.

 

 

 

Lydia Michaels is the award winning author of over 35 romance novels. She is an iBooks Bestsellers and her work has been featured in USA Today. She is the two-time winner of the Author of the Year Award from Happenings Media [2018 & 2019]. In 2015 she won The Best Author Award from The Courier Times. She is a five time nominee for the prestigious RONE Award. Her books are intellectual, emotional, haunting, always centered around love. 

 

 

 

Lydia Michaels loves to hear from readers! She can be contacted by email at Lydia@LydiaMichaelsBooks.com

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