Thursday, January 1, 2015

~~~RELEASE BLITZ~~~ HOOK by K.R. Thompson


Hook - Blitz Banner






BOOK INFORMATION



TITLE – HOOK

AUTHOR – K.R. Thompson

GENRE – Fantasy/Fairy Tale/Adventure

PUBLICATION DATE – January 1, 2015

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 300 Pages/78,000 words








Hook - Book Cover


BOOK SYNOPSIS


Archie Jameson dreamed of adventure.

Today, it found him.

Caught in a chilly October storm, he ducked into a tavern, hoping to escape the rain. What he found, was a room teeming with pirates. Shanghaied by the most elderly of the lot, Archie awakens to discover that he is serving on a ship captained by the fiercest pirate ever to sail the seven seas--the man known as Blackbeard.

Through a series of thrilling twists, Archie finds himself captain of another of Blackbeard's ships, the Jolig Roger. In an attempt to flee danger, his ship becomes lost beneath uncharted stars and arrives at a mysterious island.

Determined to save both his crew and the woman he loves, Archie will make decisions that will forever seal his fate.

For in Neverland, not all is as it seems.


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Pixie Dust 1






EXCERPT




The breeze picked up and was bursting insistent, frigid puffs that threatened to dislodge his hat. Archie clamped one hand on top, squishing it down around his lean face as he resolutely lengthened his stride and marched on, determined to make it home before the storm set in.

He'd almost made it to the corner, to the place where he normally made the left on N. Westburl, and then a right onto 43rd, followed by a various assortment of other long deviations that would get him safely home, when a large crack of thunder shook the air. He decided that just this once he might consider taking the most direct route, albeit dangerous, foreboding, and possibly life-threatening. He stopped right on the bend of the street, uncertain for a split moment, until the next jolting crack of thunder made up his mind for him. He headed straight along Market St that followed the length of the Thames River, hoping that the seedy individuals who lurked around the pier were as mindful of the storm as he and would not cause him trouble on this particular evening, for even though he was quick-witted and could talk himself out of most troubles, sailors tended to be a harder breed of people. They were a sharp and cunning lot, and Archie did not know if he could outsmart anyone else that day and didn't wish to press his luck.

He made it past the pier, hesitating just long enough to glance at the small boats tied to the dock. There were obviously people about, and so far he had been lucky enough not to encounter any of them.

But one final ground-shaking crack and the tinkling sound of bells changed it all. The clouds overhead clashed and he ran for the shelter of a nearby tavern, barely escaping the torrent of rain.

Archie had never been in The Captain's Keg before. He stopped just inside the door and let his eyes adjust to the dark, smoke-filled room. He realized that not only had he run into the very people he wished to avoid, but that he also had a new problem.

These men weren't just sailors.

He was ready to run back out and take his chances of drowning in the street, when he heard the same tinkling of bells from earlier. This time, it sounded like mocking laughter.

Well. He might very well be losing his mind, but a coward he was not.

He straightened to his full height—all six feet and four inches of it—and removed his crumpled hat with a flourish, tucking it under his arm. He walked proudly down the three steps that led into the heart of the tavern—to a bar, teeming with pirates.

A couple of heads turned at his arrival and those who met his solemn, blue gaze were quick to drop their eyes back to their drinks. His spirits momentarily lifted, Archibald nodded to himself more than to anyone else in particular, a slight smile playing on his lips. He was holding his own.

Still erring on the side of caution, he scanned the length of the bar, finding three open seats. Two were between rather burly, shifty-looking blokes with tattoos. The third seat, nearly on the end of the bar, sat betwixt an elderly gentleman with longish white sideburns, a round belly, and spectacles to match that sat precariously upon a rather bulbous nose. The gent on the other side was scrawny, his clothes in tatters, thin face in a scowl as he stared at a leaflet of paper before him. Even though he sat still, there was a nervous energy that pulsed off the small man. He gave Archibald the impression of a jittery, starving squirrel.

Archibald decided his best chances lay between the old man and the squirrel and so he took his seat, nodding in a genial fashion to the old man, whose watery blue eyes barely gave him a passing glance. The squirrel didn't acknowledge his presence.

"What'll it be, mate?" the barkeep asked.

Archibald bit his lip to keep from laughing. Every drink in the tavern was the same yellowish liquid. Why the bald man standing behind the bar bothered to even ask such a mundane question was beyond him. Perhaps he was daydreaming again. He did do that a lot and at times it seemed real. "'Tis all ale, is it not?"

"Aye, but will it be single or double ye'll be havin'?"

Archibald lifted a single finger and waited for his drink.

"Ye'd have much better luck with rum, I should think," the old man said quietly as he stared down into his own glass, "The ale's watered down. Not fit for a fish to drink, it isn't."

One dreg out of the glass, and Archibald was quite certain the gentleman was more than right. It tasted like something poured from an old boot. Not that he regularly drank from old boots, mind you. Thank heavens he hadn't ordered twice the amount of the vile stuff. Deciding it better not to even bother asking for the rum, which most definitely hidden beneath the counter and out of sight, he tossed a couple of coins down on the scarred wooden bar, and sat looking down into the remnants of his glass, listening to the patter of rain on the tin roof.

A strange thought came suddenly. For a bar filled with pirates, it was most unusual. It was rather quiet, an odd comment here or there, but otherwise there was nothing but silence. Surely they weren't all sitting around listening to the rain. Archie couldn't figure it out. But he knew one thing, these people certainly weren't living up to his expectations of the loud, fearless persons he always thought pirates to be.

The squirrel on his left shifted around on his stool, staring even harder at the parchment. Sweat popped out on a face that was now a color that reminded Archie of the paper in the print shop, a colorless, pasty white. Good for paper, not for squirrels.

"Well?" a low, deep voice rolled out from a dark corner and broke the silence so suddenly that it startled Archie. "Give us the news then, Harper."

Ah, well now. Things may get lively yet, Archie thought, casting a quick look to the corner from where the voice rumbled. It was too dark to see the man who sat against the wall, but Archibald got a good look at the pair of worn, dark leather boots propped up on the table, and the curling wisps of cigar smoke that floated up to the rafters.

"It says a r-roy, royy…" the squirrel named Harper stuttered, the paper shaking in his hands.

"Ach! The man canna read it anymore than the rest o' us." A complaint hurtled from one of the tattooed blokes at the opposite end of the bar.

As if he were getting more anxious, Harper tried again, his voice in a near squeak, "A royy-alll…"

Archie spied the lettering, and against his better conscience, whispered just loud enough that Harper would hear, "A royal pardon is offered to those pirates who surrender on or before the fifth of September, this year of 1718." He waited as Harper relayed the message, then continued, "Being limited to crimes committed before the fifth of January. All other crimes committed after such date, will be considered for a death of hanging."

Archie sensed the old man on the other side of him shuffle about, as if he were searching for something on the insides of his pockets, but Archie's attention was fixed on the squirrel he saved. Harper turned and gave him a toothless, yet thankful, smile and set to guzzling the contents of his glass as quickly as possible in an effort to calm his shaking nerves.

"Well, that counts us out, lads," a dark chuckle came from the corner, "'No pardon for the likes o' us, I fear. We all be hanged."

"Aye, but they must catch us first. I won't be finding me neck in a noose," a shout rang out, followed by the murmur of agreement from all the others as they lifted their glasses in salute.

Feeling rather in-tune with the pirates, Archibald picked up his glass as well and toasted the luck of the now boisterous lot, draining the last contents of his glass. Some small part of his brain noted that while the ale was certainly vile before, it also became bitter the longer it sat. The bitterness left nearly as soon as he noticed it, having been replaced with a rather calming sensation.

Pirates truly weren't a bad lot, he thought sleepily, just people like everyone else. They were only misunderstood. He turned to convince the elderly gentleman on his right of exactly that, when the darkness came and took over. The last thing he heard was the old man chuckle, singing softly,

"Yo-ho, me mateys, yo-ho…"




***




"Careful now, lads, mind the poor lout's head, aye? He'll be having a dreadful headache come morning without any extra bumps ye'd be givin' him along the way."

The voice was familiar—rather achingly so—though Archie couldn't quite seem to get his faculties in order to remember who the owner of the voice was. The few times he could open his eyes, nothing at all made sense. It all came and went in blurs with distorted figures he couldn't quite make out. The darkness came and went, so in the end, he figured it better to keep his eyes shut for the time being and try to concentrate on other things, foggy and confusing as they might seem. He thought he was being drug along the rough boards of the pier, and while that familiar voice seemed to care about the condition of his head, his legs and backside seemed to be another matter entirely of which the man cared not a whit as they bumped him along each splintering plank. Luckily, the drug slipped in his drink deadened the pain, and he only registered the faint, odd pricks and scrapes where the wood had its way with his flesh.

"He's got hair like black candles, he does," a crackling voice snickered by his head.

"Aye, Smee, are we taking this poor soul aboard for his long locks? Did the Cap'n order you fetch him a wifey, then?" another voice chimed in, followed by raucous laughter, and a low retort from the man named Smee that Archibald couldn't make out.

"A good bit heavier than he looks," the first voice by his head huffed, "Slow ye down a bit, Murph. I'm losin' my grip. Oh drat, there he goes!"

And those were the last words Archibald ever heard on the shores of bonnie England as his head hit the pier and the darkness crept over him once again.







AUTHOR BIO


K.R. Thompson lives in southwest Virginia with her husband, son, three cats, and an undeterminable amount of chickens.

An avid reader and firm believer in magic, she spends her nights either reading an adventure or writing one.

She still watches for evidence of Bigfoot in the mud of Wolf Creek.


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This Release Blitz Was Organized & Hosted By




1-MINIBUTTON

~~BOOK BLITZ~~ THE ZEN LOUNGE by A.C. Melody


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BOOK INFORMATION



TITLE – The Zen Lounge

AUTHOR – A.C. Melody

GENRE – Erotic SciFi Romance

PUBLICATION DATE – November 1, 2014

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 288 pages / 99,515 words

PUBLISHER – Red Sage Publisher

COVER ARTIST – Niina C (Cover Designer for Red Sage Publishing)






BOOK SYNOPSIS



Welcome to the Zen Lounge, twenty-one floors of customizable carnal pleasures to fulfill your wildest fantasies. Even in the year 2192, it shouldn't exist but Voryk Kade simply couldn't ignore the urge to take a closer look. What he finds is a woman bent on ruining everything he'd ever believed to be true. She holds the key to all of Voryk's darkest, neediest desires and despite her silence, provides the proof behind his belief that there is something far seedier going on under the high-end gloss of professional eroticism.




Enlisting the help of his closest friends, Voryk's only goal is to keep Nexlana safe, naked and his. Unfortunately, she was already someone's favorite pet and when Master comes calling, it’s with a vengeance and the intent of never letting her slip away again. Haunted pasts continue to resurface, only Nexlana's might be far deadlier than any of them could have guessed—connections between her, arson, an assassination and a cold case no one ever wanted to delve into again. To stop the worst case scenario from taking place, they must finally figure out just who in the hell the Master really is.






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The Zen Lounge - Book Cover


EXCERPT




The waiter lifted the linen, still shouting at him, and the entire restaurant gasped in horrified unison. Voryk's head spun deliriously and he grinned like the devil. Wrapping his hands around the woman's head, his fingertips dug into the flesh of her scalp.




“Teeth,” he ordered through clenched ones. “More teeth.”




When she didn't hesitate to comply, Voryk's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. Pain and pleasure collided, melding into one, all-consuming sensation that ripped through his core and the darkness danced in glee.




“Signore!” the waiter bellowed, slamming his hand down onto the table.




Voryk yanked his hand off of the woman's head, grabbed the fork from his plate and stabbed it through the back of the waiter's hand. Even as he howled in pain, no blood came forth—he just began to dematerialize right on the spot. Chaos erupted. People screaming and running, even while more waitstaff and the maitre d' ran toward Voryk's table.




The act of violence, even against a hologram, shot Voryk right over the edge. Gripping his companion's head again, he held her firmly in place as he erupted down her hot, clenching throat. Panting, heart still racing, Voryk looked up with very little interest when the maitre d' pounded a fist down on the table.




“Holo,” he roughed out. “End scenario.”



AUTHOR BIO



A.C. Melody spent the first few years of her life in Hanau, Germany, the hometown of the Brother's Grimm. An Army brat, she moved around quite a bit growing up. She's survived being snowed into her house, severe sunburns and weekly tornado visits – and that was just in Texas! Now, a proud resident of the beautifully green Pacific Northwest for over 20 years, she's trying to survive raising two teenage sons, while chasing her lifelong dream of sharing her stories with the world.




Coming from a background of artists and musicians, A.C. appreciates everything creative. She's an avid reader, professional smartass and javaholic. Always the whimsical daydreamer (a matter that got her into more trouble than not during her school years), she believes in the magic of the written word, the power of music and in the strength of humanity. In her own words: “I am an introverted people person, because I was born to be the biggest contradiction of my life! But, if you touch my coffee, we're gonna have problems...”




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$5 Amazon Gift Card

A Free e-book copy of The Zen Lounge













This Release Blitz Was Organized & Hosted By


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~~~BOOK BLITZ~~~ BEAUTIFUL LIES by Gina Whitney







Title: Beautiful Lies


Author: Gina Whitney        


Genre: Erotic Romance



Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours







Synopsis:Enigmatic Cameron Sterling is quickly rising through the ranks at New York’s most prestigious and corrupt law firm Wotherspoon and Associates. He has willfully avoided any meaningful personal relationships and is content to casually hook up with Becky, a young woman who fancies herself as his actual girlfriend. As a child, Cam witnessed his father murder his mother, and this was the genesis of his relationship-avoidance issue. The only thing he cares about now is becoming a partner at Wotherspoon and Associates. Cam is obsessed with the promotion and will not let anything—or anyone—stand in his way.

But when Cam crosses paths with Lilly Amsel, a fashion model, the edges of his well laid plans begin to fray. At first, Cam is unimpressed by Lilly’s exaggerated effervescence and entitled air. However, he is taken aback by her incredible beauty—legs as long as an Amazon’s, silky honeyed-hair, and blazing body. This undeniable physical attraction disturbs Cam on all levels, leaving him intrigued by Lilly and wanting to get away from her at the same time. 

Lilly is strongly aroused by Cam’s moody presence. His dark, erotic looks and heady scent ignite long-dormant embers of wanton desire buried deep within her. Practically hypnotized, she finds her body reacting in the most surprising and carnal of ways. However, the two separate and never expect to see each other again, but somehow they manage to still linger on each other. Lilly’s larger-than-life persona that Cam initially encountered is a sham, though. It is a well-crafted costume that masks deeply rooted insecurity and an unfortunate dependence on prescription drugs. This stems from a horrifically abusive childhood that she is trying desperately, and unsuccessfully, to forget. Her mediocre modeling career was the perfect vehicle for her to escape that tumult and simultaneously receive acceptance and praise. It did not matter to Lilly that the kudos were based on superficial assumptions. She was still almost satisfied with the result and what modeling could not fix, the drugs could. 

Enthrallment and lust have other plans, though. Despite their best efforts to stay apart, Cam and Lilly come back together and embark on a tempestuous affair. For both of them, a torrid weekend getaway in the mountains unleashes years of pent-up sexual frustration and destroys inhibitions. Cam has no problem taking charge as he relishes Lilly’s delicious inner nectar. Again and again, Cam delivers Lilly pleasure she has never known before, leaving her trembling as she reclaims the goddess within.













Gina Whitney grew up reading Judy Blume, and Nancy Drew books. She was raised in the town of North Valley Stream, New York(Long Island)and attended community college for fashion design. At 19 she opened a boutique. She recently published her first paranormal romance novel Blood Ties. When she's not writing, she's hanging with family and friends. She shares a home with her wonderful son’s PJ and Drew, and their 200lb Mastiff Hercules. She currently lives in Massapequa, New York. Reading has always been a passion and




obsession. You can usually find her typing furiously while shouting obscenities over her latest work. She also enjoys a good laugh, being snarky, espresso, and above all steamy swooning angst filled novels. She's pathologically obsessed with True Blood(Eric ;), Games of Thrones, Borgias, Vampire Diaries and Originals. You can also find her chatting it up with readers on Facebook.






















Links:





Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Gina-Whitney/e/B00DWDU1KG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Blog: http://authorginawhitney.blogspot.com/


Buy Links:

*Amazon: http://amzn.to/1H7w75s

*BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/beautiful-lies-gina-whitney/1119317412?ean=9780615991573

*Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/beautiful-lies-15

*ITunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/beautiful-lies/id893425658?mt=11





Chapter One




If I had known then that Lilly Amsel would set such a fierce blaze in my life, I would have taken the next elevator.


All I wanted that morning was to get a hard run on the treadmill and go to my office to put in some weekend overtime. I arrived at The Equity, the most prestigious gym not only in New York City but in the country, and was checking my work-issued Blackberry as usual. I tended to avoid such pretentious settings, but membership was one of the many perks of my employment at Wotherspoon and Associates. As a law student at Aldensburg University, I had interned at the corporate law firm and had been offered a position after I’d passed the bar five years ago. Aldensburg was not as premier a college when compared to the Ivies; in fact most people have never heard of it. But, like me, it got the job done. And professionally the job I was trying to get done now was

making partner. I know it was an ambitious goal, but I had nothing but faith in my skills to make it happen.


For the moment I was there at The Equity in my sagging basketball shorts and stretched-out T-shirt, standing amid chichi air kissers. I was not there to hobnob; I actually had a serious goal. I worked out not only to maintain my body but to keep my mind sharp, focused, and ready at all times. That was what separated me from those people. I was a shark among peacocks.


The cheerless receptionist with the sucked-in cheeks eyed me as I stepped through the door. I could see her hostile nostrils widen like a bull’s as she feigned a barely polite smile. She knew who I was but played this ridiculous game with me every day. Always pretending not to know me.


“I’m sorry, sir. You must be looking for the gym down the street.”


That was her way of telling me that my choice of clothing was not up to par, and I might consider some more appropriate attire. I had known plenty of people like her growing up and knew that the best way to handle her was to be in her face every chance I got, to be the proverbial pebble in her shoe. I swiped my security pass card and told her, “See you tomorrow.”


The Equity was an “it” destination for celebrities and all manner of the rich and powerful. The entry level consisted of a wide, stark-white hallway with electric-blue tube lights lining the walls and ceiling, and filled with the ethereal melody of a string orchestra. This main hallway connected with several more, with the last one ending a spacious, low-lit lounge

area. Scattered about were suede couches and glass tables; black-and-white photos of perfectly sculpted body parts hung on the walls. This was where those who came to be seen strategically posed themselves just in case an undercover paparazzo managed to sneak in. The lounge was usually empty in the morning because its denizens could not manage to roll out of bed until well into the afternoon.


I made my way across the rugs to yet another hall that led to a bank of elevators. I pushed the “up” button, eager to start my workout. Then I heard the quick click clack of feminine footsteps come up behind me. I sighed because I knew those shoes—probably high heels—were not made for running. This was just another pampered pest whose idea of working out was getting a massage. I did not even have to turn around to figure this chick out.


Her heavy perfume was layered with the fresh smell of soap and shampoo. Typical of someone who saw the gym as a social occasion rather than a place to exercise. I never had patience with lackadaisical people who were not willing to put in the effort to achieve anything. I wanted so badly to turn around and say, “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be having Sunday brunch over at Peacock Alley?”  


However, I was not there to judge. I was there to work out. But I was curious as to who was standing behind me. I looked into the stainless-steel door of the elevator to see if I could make out the reflection. The dull surface only revealed that the grayish silhouette behind me was tall and lanky. Not as tall as me at six foot three, but tall nonetheless.  


Then a hoard of more click-clacking footsteps arrived, accompanied by raucously shrill voices greeting the first woman. I thought, Oh god. Jersey girls.


“Lilly!” they all screamed in unison.


The first woman, Lilly, chirped back. “Sweetie pies, how are you?” 


One nasally voice responded, “Fine if you like your nipples turning into Popsicles. It’s cold as hell out there. What’s on your agenda today? ”


“Pilates with Jean-Paul. Thirty minutes.”


“What is he? A slave driver?” another woman said seriously with a croaky smoker’s voice.


“I know, right?” Lilly agreed. All I could do was roll my eyes at that nonsense.    


Lilly had an odd way of speaking that only a discerning ear could pick up. She was trying her best to affect a newscaster accent, that plain Midwestern way of speaking. However, she would occasionally slip into an upward inflection that made every sentence sound like a question. She was definitely a So-Cal transplant. It was beyond me why, in the midst of shudder-inducing Jersey accents, Lilly hid her natural one.


As the elevator numbers slowly ticked down, I noticed in my peripheral vision the number of men passing. They were all doing double takes at Lilly. Either she was gorgeous or hideous beyond measure. Either way, it did not matter to me. I had seen plenty of both and was not swayed by the slop or gloss of anything. An ethics professor a long way back even accused me of being jaded. What he could not understand was that when your life has been a trial by fire, you see things differently from most. The world and all the people in it are just opportunities for you to get what you need. You can’t depend on anyone but yourself. When

you have lived in a cushioned bubble like the professor, you just don’t get that. Needless to say I barely passed that class.


The elevator finally arrived, and the herd of new-money cows stampeded past me to get in. I turned back, and Lilly was waiting for me to usher her out like I was the doorman. Sure enough she was decked out in black from head to toe—leggings, turtleneck, and those clacking ankle boots. She had a leather bag brimming with Voss water and vitamin blister packs. She appeared to be in her early twenties, so I was perplexed as to why she needed so many pills.


Still, I must admit that I was taken aback by how beautiful she was. Her hair, pushed back and glossed into a tight bun, reminded me of dark honey, and her graceful, lithe body looked like that of a ballet dancer. And those eyes—they were extraordinarily large orbs of malachite rimmed in chestnut. However, no matter how pouty her dewy lips were, Lilly still acted like an entitled elitist, so pampered that she probably considered Park Slope to be the ghetto.


I watched her standing there looking at me. This woman was used to people fawning all over her, and I was not one to do that. I did not grovel or bow down to anybody. But no matter what I felt about her at the moment, I decided to do the gentlemanly thing.


“Ladies first,” I said.


Lilly sashayed past me and joined her tacky and deeply moneyed crew. As she crossed the threshold of the elevator, she gave me a “thanks” that was nowhere near sincere. I spent the elevator ride to the third floor listening to her companions’ boisterous gossip about other women at the club. Yet I did not hear Lilly utter any comment. I just felt her eyes laser beaming my back. Apparently she was still shocked and pissed that I didn’t think she was the shit.



* * *




“Lilly, you forgot your water,” Jean-Paul yelled out to me. He had been my Pilates instructor for the past six years—my entire time in New York. After I finished my thirty-minute workout with him, I got some fresh acrylics in the spa. I was preparing for an interview with Paramour Life, fashion’s most prominent magazine, later that afternoon. Though I was modeling, the interview was not about me. It was really about my boyfriend of two years, Sig Krok. Sig had come from Sweden twenty years ago and started his own fashion house, Klå. Klå. It quickly became one of the best-selling clothing lines in the world.


This article would be a tribute to Sig. The magazine just wanted my perspective of him and a little insider knowledge of our highly visible yet terribly private relationship.  


With discreet sleight of hand, Jean-Paul handed me my property, and it was not really water. It was my bottle of Klonopin.


“I know how important water is,” he said then quickly dismissed himself to his next scheduled client. I watched him for a moment. I was in awe and bewilderment over how he mastered the art of prancing and swaying like a seasoned burlesque dancer. He really had to teach me that sometime.


Realizing I was running out of time before the interview and still had to get my

makeup done, I abruptly turned around to leave. And I turned right into Mr. Scowl—the guy at the elevator this morning. Aw, just great, I thought.


“Excuse me,” I said as I started walking away. By then he had put on some more weather-appropriate clothing—jeans and a cable-knit sweater with a white T-shirt underneath. And the creep did not even respond to me, smirking his arrogant mouth instead. Even though he was pompous, he was kind of cute. Though it was the middle of winter, his skin looked sun kissed. He was a giant of a man, well over six feet tall. His luminous, copper eyes seemed like they were always narrowed, like he was annoyed with people because they were merely human and could not withstand his survey.


I headed toward the elevator, and he did the same. When we got there, I started pushing buttons in hopes it would make the elevator come faster. The bell dinged, and he let me on first. I could tell he didn’t want to but was trying to be The Man.


We stood in opposite corners. By then most men would have engaged me in conversation. He hadn’t. Was he gay? No, I had a fairly accurate gaydar. What was wrong with him then? I was becoming increasingly irritated by this man’s presence. I glanced over at him. He was wiping his sweaty brow, and his hand pushed up his cap a bit, exposing his inky hair cut with perfect precision around the edges. The cap was thready and had a large A on the front. He probably had gotten it from some college a while back. I also noticed that on the underside of the cap’s bill, he had written his name in permanent marker: Cam.  


Even though he grated on me, I could not help but be distracted by his body. He had Adonis-like shoulders, broad and protective. His thick thighs were agape, his wide stance taking up a good deal of space. This square-jawed man was definitely broody, but even without a smile, I could make out the dimple in his cheek. And I did not even want to get started on the size of his hands and feet. They were enormous.


The air vent was blowing a light, steady stream of air across Cam. I inhaled the

heady scent of his newly sweaty body intermingled with a woodsy deodorant. I leaned in his direction. One of my eyes went on autopilot and fluttered—that thing that happens when something is real good. I took another breath and leaned in some more.  


Wait! What…the fuck…am I doing? I caught myself right before my nose landed on Cam’s arm. And there he was with the same “what the fuck?” look. He was staring at me going for his pit with my crazy eye. He obviously thought I was about to rape him.


Quick, deflect. I pointed at my ear. “I thought you said something.” I regained my composure and returned my gaze forward.


But he sure did smell good. And boy, was I horny.


WhateverI wasn’t going to say anything else to Cam. He was still nothing but an aloof, smug asshole to me. And I had to endure what seemed like a forever ride to the first floor with him. I turned my face back to the elevator doors with just the sound of the motors and cables to break the silence.


I was so relieved to get out of the elevator, I practically sprinted into the parking garage. I slung my faux fur over my shoulders as I rushed to Sig’s Infiniti QX80. Cam was trailing me, sliding into his leather jacket. And I just knew he was about to ask me for my number despite that fiasco in the elevator. Maybe I hadn’t lost my touch. I was prepared to shoot him down, of course. But he sure was taking his time. I was already at Sig’s SUV.


However, not only did Cam not ask me for my number, he was only walking behind me because he had parked his powerful, black Harley 1200 Custom next to me. He spread his thick legs and straddled it then put on his Aviator sunglasses and revved up his baby. I had to say, that motorcycle…the way it just hung between his legs…looked more like a big, hard dick than anything else.


Cam turned the twist grip like it was his cock and throttled up. The rumble from the motorcycle bounced off the concrete walls of the garage. It was almost deafening. He didn’t care. In fact, if I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn he’d done it on purpose. I was totally conflicted. Never had I so detested a man and still wanted to fuck the skin off his dick at the same time.


Alas, Cam drove off without even looking in my direction. I let out an audible gasp. No straight male ever looked at me and just turned away.








Hmm…maybe my gaydar was in need of a tune-up.










Tuesday, December 30, 2014

♥ RELEASE BLITZ & GIVEAWAY♥ SEIZE (Delirious, #2) by Clarissa Wild

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Title: SEIZE (Delirious Volume 2)

Author: Clarissa Wild

Release Date: December 30, 2014

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Blurb

True darkness has only just begun …

She thought she could run, but there´s nowhere to hide. My bad side is coming out to claim what belongs to me. This hunter has found his prey, and he’s hungry for more. She’s mine now, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep her to myself.

You think I’m the monster?

Think again.

When the choices you make decide your fate, the line between good and evil blurs. In order to live, I do what must be done. Freedom is the price she pays for her safety.

She wants the truth? I’ll give her the truth.

In order to play this game, sacrifices must be made.

I will start with her.

This is Volume 2 in the Delirious Series, which contains 3 volumes and a prequel. This book is a full-length novel. These books should be read in order.

WARNING: This book contains very disturbing situations, strong language, drugs and alcohol, dubious consent, and graphic violence.





Purchase SEIZE Today!

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Now is a great time to catch up with the series!

(These books should be read in order.)

SEEk SNARe COVERs



SEEK (Delirious, #0.5)


When illusions come to life, how do you tell what’s real?

My life ended when I came back from vacation. Death was at my doorstep. Everything ceased to exist. To protect myself, I pushed the memories away.

All I remember is him: Sebastian Brand, my savior.

I trust only him.

I am obsessed with him.

But all I know about him is his name.

Stuck in this mental institution, I try not to think about the terrible memories that lurk deep inside me. Sebastian is the only one who can help me forget. I don’t care that they say he doesn't exist, I need Sebastian and I will find him, no matter the cost.



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SNARE (Delirious, #1)


His secrets will destroy her.

Taken.

Humiliated.

Used.

With his smart mouth, dirty talking, and possessive behavior, Sebastian Brand has me hooked in the most shameless way. I’m obsessed with him. However, now that I’ve escaped the mental hospital, he seeks to control my every move.

The overwhelming aloofness in his attitude and the darkness in his mind tells me there is more to this man than sheer dominance. Depravity is his playground and pain is a necessary evil.

Keeping me away was his first instinct.

Capturing me was his second.

Claimed by a man with the exterior of an angel and the mind of a brute, I will do anything to unveil his secrets and face my own demons.

A body in exchange for freedom. A heart in exchange for truth.

Life is never a given. Only a certain death.





About the Author

Clarissa

Clarissa Wild is the USA Today Bestselling author of FIERCE, a college romance series, but she's best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire's Bet series, the Doing It Series and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.

Check out my sexy books: http://smarturl.it/clarissawildbooks



Connect with Clarissa




Giveaway!




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Monday, December 29, 2014

~~~RELEASE DAY BLITZ~~~ eXcess Anthology










Title: eXcess Anthology


Author: K.M. Scott, CJ Roberts, Pam Godwin, AL Daltrey, Ella Dominguez, Scott Hildreth, Marc Nobbs, Gina Whitney and Adriane LeighGenre: Erotic Romance


Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours




9 New York Times, USA Today & Amazon Bestselling Authors bring you some of the steamiest romance novels for one low

price. 


K.M. Scott — Temptation— Cassian March gave up on love, but his sexy new assistant Olivia might just change his mind. Will they give in to temptation at Club X, or will they let their fears keep them from finding love? 




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CJ Roberts— Captive in the Dark — This New York Times Bestseller is the story of a young woman kidnapped and held hostage by a human trafficker out for revenge. Gritty, violent, and not for the faint of heart. 18+ Heed all warnings. 




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Pam Godwin — Beneath The Burn — Amid corruption and power, rock stars and drugs, Jay and Charlee must face their worst fears. When the battle is over, what will be left...Beneath The Burn. 




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Al Daltrey — Testing The Submissive — Abby stood nervously before her Master, having to recount in exact detail the proceedings of her last whipping. How far will he push her with these tests, and what will happen when she’s pushed too far? 




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Ella Dominguez — Grace Street — Cold and calculating, Victor has found the next victim on his to-do-list. But Elsa proves to be an infuriating challenger when she flips the tables on his selfish and twisted game - a

game they both may end up losing their hearts and minds over. 




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Scott Hildreth — Undefeated — While Shane Dekkar fights in the boxing ring, Kace Meadows fights for her life. After ten years in an abusive relationship she is ready to escape and does so with the help of an unlikely hero. Undefeated is a story about the realities abuse, the aftermath of abuse and learning how to love again. 




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Marc Nobbs — The Big Four Ohhh! — When Dave Cartwright comes across a local newspaper ad offering twenty-seven inches of Prime British Beef, it plants the seed of an idea which leads to a unique celebration of

his wife’s upcoming fortieth birthday. And a night that both of them will never, ever forget. 




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Gina Whitney — Saving Abel — Abel Gunner, lead singer of Lethal Abel and Gia must face their demons before they can embrace a future together. In the end they're faced with two choices: fight for their love or die with their demons. 




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Adriane Leigh — Wild — An independent woman, a controlling man, and one wild one-night stand… Desire and temptation smolder before she succumbs to her darkest fantasies with the captivating stranger. Kat Kenndedy doesn’t expect to see Lane Wild again after an explosive one-night stand leaves her breathless

and craving more, but just like lightning in the darkness, he shows up in her life at the most unpredictable moments.














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~~COVER REVEAL~~ FOR THE GAME by Amber Garza



For the Game (Playing for Keeps #2)
Cover Designer: Kris from C & K Creations


Blurb:

London Miller is a survivor. She’s suffered through more than her share of heartache and struggles, but with Cooper in her life, she feels strong enough to overcome anything. Even with him away at college, she knows he is in her heart – and her life – for the long haul.

Cooper Montgomery is a winner. Losing has never been an option for him. Not in baseball, not in school, not in life. He’s worked hard to gain a spot on the Fallbrook Falcon’s baseball team and it should be the best time of his life. He’s living his dream and now that he has London, his life finally feels complete.

When unexpected obstacles arise, both London and Cooper are faced with new challenges that threaten to tear them apart. They've fought so hard to be together. Can London survive what fate throws her way? And can Cooper win when there is more at stake than just the game?




Author Bio:

Amber Garza is the author of the Delaney's Gift Series and many contemporary romance titles, including Star Struck, Tripping Me Up and Break Free. She has had a passion for the written word since she was a child making books out of notebook paper and staples. Her hobbies include reading and singing. Tea and wine are her drinks of choice (not necessarily in that order). She writes while blaring music, and talks about her characters like they're real people. She currently lives in California with her amazing husband, and two hilarious children who provide her with enough material to keep her writing for years. 

Amber loves to connect with her readers. You can visit her at ambergarza.com, or find her on facebook or on twitter @ambermg1.