Friday, May 1, 2015

~~BLITZ WITH GIVEAWAY~~ AMII'S ANGEL by Natalie-Nicole Bates


Amiis Angel - Banner


BOOK INFORMATION



TITLE – Amii’s Angel

AUTHOR – Natalie-Nicole Bates

GENRE – Contemporary Romance

PUBLICATION DATE – March 2015

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 35,000 words

PUBLISHER – Books To Go Now Publishing






BOOK SYNOPSIS



For years, Amii Sloan has held a burning grudge against Ryan Maine for his cutting cross examination during her sister’s murder trial. Now, a chance encounter brings Ryan back into her life, along with a very interesting proposition—to work as his personal assistant in the idyllic town of Unity.




Down on her luck, and supporting a mother with early onset dementia, Amii doesn’t have much of a choice but to accept the job Ryan offers. But can she overlook the past to possibly open the door to a brighter future?




As she spends time with the handsome, successful lawyer, she realizes that maybe first impressions can be wrong, and that just maybe she and Ryan could share a whole lot more than she ever imagined.








Amiis Angel -Book Cover


BUY & TBR LINKS




EXCERPT




From the instant he first saw her, Ryan Maine sensed she would be his wife.




“I’m usually very good with faces, but I’ll be damned if I can remember where I know you from.” It sounded like a cheesy pick up line, but it was the truth.




He smiled at the raven haired beauty before him. He had been off the dating scene for way too long. Now was the time to get back into the game.




His smile deflated when he saw the hard, cold look in her dark eyes. “You may not remember, but I sure do. As a matter of fact, I’ll never forget it. You cross examined me at the trial of my sister’s murderer.




You destroyed a part of my soul that day.”







AUTHOR BIO



Natalie-Nicole Bates is a book reviewer and author.




Her passions in life include books and hockey along with Victorian and Edwardian era photography and antique poison bottles. Natalie contributes her uncharacteristic love of hockey to being born in Russia.




She currently resides in the UK where she is working on her next book and adding to her collection of 19th century post-mortem photos.




Visit Natalie online at www.natalienicolebates.com


AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS




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~~~COVER REVEAL~~~ THE REAPERS by Ali Winters







Title: The Reapers


Author: Ali Winters 




Genre: YA Fantasy




Expected Release Date: May 31, 2015

Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours







Blurb:





The balance of life and death must be kept at all costs.

Having been a reaper as long as she can remember, Nivian knows that what she does is essential in maintaining balance. After being assigned to a rushed mark she finds that there is more to this human than any other she has encountered.

Kain had been living an ordinary life without a second thought until he meets Nivian who turns his world upside down. He is thrust into a world of hunters and reapers. The keepers of life and death have been feuding for centuries over a reason no one can even remember.

With Kain having been marked for reaping, and Nivian being hunted, they forge a friendship and together must find the truth in order to keep balance in check. Wrong choices could destroy everything. As they journey they discover hidden histories, powers, and lies and truths that have been spun since the beginning of time. The consequence of failure, unimaginable.









Ali grew up in the Pacific North West. She attended Oregon State University for photography. After many adventures she moved to Colorado and earning second degree, she found and met and married her husband. 

Ali currently lives in windy Wyoming with her husband and two dogs, Nika and Tedward. When not writing Ali is either photographing, knitting, reading, dancing or staying inside where it’s warm with a hot cup of coffee. She dreams of traveling the world someday soon.




Author Links:




You can email Ali at 

authoraliwinters@yahoo.com




Or you can also find her on these social platforms.



Facebook: www.facebook/authoraliwinters  


Twiter: @aliwinters_ 


Tumblr:
authoraliwinters.tumblr.com/











Nivian jumped over the edge of the bridge, landing with a soft tap on the surface of the water. She reached down, pulled the soul of the driver up by the collar of his shirt, and stood him up next to her on top of the water. She took the drivers hand palm up in hers, waving her other hand over his. She pinched the air and pulled, lifting up and exposing his life string, his wide eyes were hypnotized by the glowing string. She grabbed the scythe strapped to her back and swung. With a slow deliberate movement she sliced the human’s thread. The light formed a ball and hovered as she pulled out the small pocket watch. The life light floated down to the watch and sunk into it, disappearing. With a snap, she closed the watch and returned it to her pocket.


“You really shouldn’t drink and drive; you could have seriously hurt someone,” she said giving him an apathetic look. He gaped at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Yes, you really are dead.” She confirmed as she started to turn away.


“Are you … the devil?” he managed to sputter.


“No, of course not. I am just the natural order of things,” she said, briefly looking back at him. “Wait here; your spirit counselor will be here soon for you to guide you to your afterlife. I have other jobs tonight,” She turned, walking away as she pulled her hood back up over her head and vanished.

















Thursday, April 30, 2015

~~~SPOTLIGHT~~~ Tania Sparks author HEAVEN SENT and BOLT FROM THE BLUE

Heaven Sent

by Tania Sparks





















Blurb


Ash and Eve were high school sweethearts who were very much in love. But fate intervened and they were torn apart when Ash got an opportunity of a lifetime to become part of an up-and-coming hard rock band called Oblivion.
He went away on tour and the band ultimately became very successful. Eve stayed back at college to make the most of her scholarship and complete her business studies degree. They tried to make their relationship work long-distance, but were unsuccessful, leaving them both devastated and heart broken. Neither of them ever got over each other. Seven years later they have a surprise chance meeting, neither of them can deny the strong pull they still have towards each other and they can’t resist the sizzling chemistry that continues to exist between them. They decide to try and rekindle their relationship. This is a story about the fun times that Ash and Eve have rediscovering each other, but it’s also about the struggles and challenges of them trying to merge two very different lifestyles. What obstacles will be thrown their way? and will they be able to make it work this time or will history repeat itself and tear them apart again? Warning: This story is a rock star erotic romance. It contains hot rock stars, sizzling sexual encounters and language that you would expect from heavy rock musicians used to a life of sex, booze and rock and roll.

Buy Links



Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00NN1U8KU/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00NN1U8KU&linkCode=as2&tag=litredsboorev-20&linkId=PNGK3GWVA77UMEGQ




Amazon UK:  http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00NN1U8KU?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Excerpt


This excerpt is from one of the slightly more steamy scenes:



We ride up to the penthouse floor in silence hand in hand. The air is buzzing and I’m so wound up I feel like the energy sparking inside me is going to explode out of my body. The elevator door opens and Ash drags me out by my hand pulling me down the corridor. He takes his access card out of his pocket, swipes it and pushes the suite door open. I follow him inside. He kicks the door shut and as soon as it’s closed he has me pushed up against the wall and is ravishing my mouth with his.


As his tongue plunges into my mouth I can feel his desire and determination. My skin is tingling and adrenaline is coursing through my veins. Our hearts are beating wildly. I’m trapped against the wall and there’s no place I’d rather be. I can’t think, I can only feel, pleasure and lust consume me. Ash drags his mouth away from mine and we’re both breathless, gasping for air. We stare into each other’s eyes and take a moment to appreciate the fact that we’ve found each other again after so many years.


Ash rests his forehead against mine. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re here with me Angel. I’ve thought about this…dreamt about this…I never thought…”

He doesn’t complete his sentence, just lets out a loud sigh and rolls his forehead back and forth slowly against mine.


This feels so familiar, yet so different at the same time. Pure yearning is overwhelming my every thought and my mind is chaotic, but before I get a chance to analyse what I’m thinking and feeling, he holds my face in the palms of his hands, his thumbs gently stroke my jaw. I can see longing burning in his eyes. His hands move slowly over my shoulders and down my arms in an unhurried and sensual stroke, his eyes track the movement of his hands attentively. He briefly entwines his fingers with mine then firmly grasps my hands and lifts them positioning them above my head. He presses my hands into the wall, glares penetratingly into my eyes and growls, “Keep your hands right there Angel. I want to see if every curve is as I remember it. I want to touch every single inch of your sexy body. You’re so fucking beautiful.”


If I thought my body was tingling before, it’s practically burning red-hot with anticipation now. His hands skim down my sides and across the front of my rib cage. He cups underneath my breasts, lifting them slightly, but not touching where I crave to feel him. His eyes are still following the downward movement of his hands as he smoothly traces the curve of my waist to my hips.

He surprises me by kneeling down in front of me, his hands glide downwards, first descending my bare left leg as he caresses my thigh…my calf…my ankle, he then glides back up, dragging his palms to the back of my knee. Then he repeats the same sensual stroke on my right leg, my thigh…my calf…my ankle then back up again. His hands come to a rest on my lower thighs just above my knees and he massages gently. Moving even further upwards, his thumbs caress my thighs and smooth over the top of my dress. He grazes his knuckles lightly over where I ache to feel him and where I’m drenched in readiness. A shiver prickles along my spine and my eyelids flutter with anticipation. He wraps his arms around my hips. Still on his knees he pulls me close as he rests his cheek against my stomach. He’s trembling with emotion as he mumbles in staccato, “You’re. Fucking. Perfect.” He takes a moment to recompose himself.


I slowly move my hands from above my head and tangle them into his hair. He tilts his head and looks up to me, eyes full of a combination of lust and adoration. Our heated gazes still fixed to each other, his hands move down and he gently squeezes my bum. His palms glide down the back of my thighs then his hands slip under the hem of my dress. The hunger being communicated between us is intense. I have never felt so cherished, so desired and so turned on in my entire life. His eyes drop to where his hands are moving as they slowly drag up my thighs, lifting my dress, past my hips to my waist, exposing my black lace panties. I hear him gasp softly and he whispers, “You’re amazing Angel. My dreams were never as good as this reality.” He grabs a hold of the hem of my dress and as he rises to his feet, he lifts it and gently removes it over my head.


I’m now standing in front of him wearing only my panties. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. He kisses me passionately as we suck and nibble at each other’s lips and tongues. He starts to slowly walk towards the bedroom, me still wrapped around him, our mouths still devouring each other hungrily.






Bolt From The Blue

by Tania Sparks
















Blurb


Nikki’s the flamboyant rhythm guitarist of the hard rock band Oblivion. He’s a sexy rock star man-whore who’s accustomed to a life of music, partying and a constant stream of girls that are ready, willing and able!

Trixie’s a feisty party girl who likes to have fun. She makes the most of her single lifestyle and happy-go-lucky attitude. But she’s also a hard-nosed business woman who knows what she wants and goes out and gets it. She lives her life by the motto ‘Work hard. Play hard’.

Neither of them ‘do relationships’. But when their frequent hook-ups start to develop into something more they realize that the connection and pull between them is undeniable. The prospect of wanting more than just mind-blowing sex from each other is a total shock to both of them and it hits them like a bolt from the blue.

Can they change their partying ways and give in to the irresistible chemistry that sizzles between them? Do they even want to? And will their past catch up with them to prevent them from giving the whole relationship thing a proper try?


Warning: This story is a rock star erotic romance. It contains hot rock stars, sizzling sexual encounters and language that you would expect from heavy rock musicians used to a life of sex, booze and rock and roll. Bolt From The Blue contains graphic sex scenes and is strictly 18+ only. This novel is Book 2 in the 'Oblivion On Tour' series. Each book in the series follows a different band member and their quests for love. Bolt From The Blue can be read as a stand-alone, but if you plan on reading the entire series, it would be best to read Heaven Sent (Book 1) first.

Buy Links



Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00SU3X2B8/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00SU3X2B8&linkCode=as2&tag=litredsboorev-20&linkId=UATGL4E5IRE43NL2


Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00SU3X2B8?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Excerpt 1 - Prologue



A few weeks back…it all started at a bar…

Nikki

Me and the rest of the Oblivion guys are chillin’ in the garden bar down at Ash’s local. The band’s having a few drinks before we go back to his place for a barbecue tonight. We re-join our tour in a few days, so it’s cool to have a bit of R&R before we hit the road again.

I’m sipping on my beer when I see her sauntering through the bar. She weaves between the tables confidently and has an air of assertiveness that makes her seem like she owns the place. Her long blonde hair has the bottom half colored bright pink and it falls seductively over her shoulders and down her back. I can imagine that hair splayed out across my bed.

Her clothes are tight and cling to every luscious curve and her black fuck-me stiletto boots would feel so freakin’ good with her legs wrapped around my neck. She’s a vision and I can’t take my eyes off of her. I stand up so I can get a better view as I peer around the crowd of people. I say loud enough for everyone else to hear, and more importantly to stake my claim, “Holy fuck, I call dibs on that.”

She’s looking around for someone. I feel like yelling out, “Hey baby, I’m right here!” but god-damn it, she won’t even look my way. She gets closer and my body reacts instantly. My dick stands to attention and adrenaline courses through my body. I prepare to give her my best panty-dropping smile. All I need is for her to glance my way. I notice that every other fucker in the bar is sizing her up too. A sudden wave of possessiveness hits me as my over-excited libido screams, “Mine!”
She turns a corner and starts to make her way towards us. Her face lights up in a big smile that emphasizes her perfect pink lips. I smile back and start to raise my hand to wave, but she glances at me, then looks straight past me. What the fuck! Am I losing my magic touch? But then she raises her hand and excitedly waves. Yes score!

Hold on a sec, why is Ash’s girl Eve waving too? The sexy lady’s wave must have been intended for Eve, not for me! I quickly drop my hand before I look like a complete and utter dickhead. Holy hell, Eve had told us that her best friend was joining us, but I didn’t expect the sex kitten that has just made an appearance. Hell yeah, fucking awesome!

Here she comes. Jesus, she’s even more gorgeous up close than from a distance. My night just got so much better! Once she arrives at our table Eve starts to introduce her to everyone, apparently her name is Trixie.

I try to nudge my way to the front, but Eve’s introducing her to everyone else first and is completely ignoring me. What the hell! Let me get to her. Eve’s doing this on purpose I can tell. I’ll have to have a chat to Ash later so he can make sure his girl falls into line. There’s a pecking order here and there’s no way I’m fucking last on the list!

The sexy lady winks at me. Fucking winks! Hell yeah, this is gonna be fun.
Trixie’s definitely into me. I can tell by the way she keeps glancing back to me with that sassy grin on her face. Her eyes feel like they’re undressing me. I know she’s imagining me naked – bring it on baby!

Eve finally gets around to me. “Trixie, this is Nikki, Oblivion’s rhythm guitarist. Nikki this is Trixie, my best friend.”

Trixie’s eyes seductively peruse my body. She puts her hands on my shoulders and gives me a lingering kiss on my cheek. Her lips burn into my skin. She purrs, “Nice to meet you Nikki”. Her voice is raspy and sounds like sex. Her words ricochet around in my head as I stare unashamedly at her lips. God, I wonder what she could do with that mouth? I give her the same inspection that she’s just given me. Her body rocks and I can tell she’s a little firecracker. I think I’m in for a wild ride tonight!

I suddenly realize I haven’t said anything. I silently scold myself. Speak you douchebag!

“Hi” I mumble.


Hi? Fucking hi! That’s all I can come up with? I have a million smooth pick-up lines in my repertoire, and all as I can say is fucking hi! It’s okay I can recover from my monumental balls-up. I’m way cooler than this. I sit down on a stool and pat the one next to me, “Have a seat Trixie.” She smiles at me sweetly and walks towards the stool. Then she does something really bizarre. She picks up the stool and moves it down a few spaces and places it next to Cody, our drummer. Fucking Sticks! She’s put the stool so close to him she’s practically sitting on his lap. What the hell! The cocky bastard grins at me and shrugs his shoulders.

Okay, so this little minx wants to play games huh? I can work with that. I know she wants me. I can see how her body reacts to mine. It’s only a matter of time sweetheart. Only a matter of time…


A minute or two ago…

Trixie

Hell that boy’s got me heated! I need to get some distance between us because at this point I have an over-whelming urge to throw myself at him. When Eve told me that some of Ash’s band mates were hot, she didn’t tell me that the one she introduced as Nikki was off-the-planet scorching! I spotted him before I even spotted her. I could feel his eyes burning into me and as soon as our gazes crossed I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.

He makes my body burn and my thoughts are anything but pure. He has the whole rock star thing down pat and looks like he’s made for doing very naughty things. He must be at least six feet tall, I can tell he’s ripped and has a body to die for. His muscled arms are covered in colorful tattoos and he fills out his sleeveless t-shirt perfectly. He has a piercing through his eyebrow and another one in his lip that I’m just dying to suck on. He has small black gauges in his ears and a cheeky self-assured smirk on his face. His black straight hair is flopping over his eyes that are currently covered by his dark sunglasses. I can see he’s interested in me and I’m definitely interested in him. But I think I might make him work for it, it’s more fun that way.

He hasn’t said much. Maybe he’s more of a doer than a talker? and I bet he’s an expert at doing! A cocky grin covers his face. He sits down on a stool and pats the one next to him, “Have a seat Trixie” he rumbles. His voice is deep and I can almost feel the vibration tingle through my body.
I smile sweetly at him, no way am I going to make it that easy for him! I wander on over to the stool, pick it up and move it a few spaces down to sit next to one of the other guys, I think Eve said his name is Cody. He’s hot too with his red mohawk and cheeky smile. But he’s not the one I want. I want Nikki, but I’m going to make the rock star work for it. I like being chased and I think I’ll have a bit of fun teasing this one.


The look on Nikki’s face is so hilarious I almost laugh out loud. His jaw has hit the ground as he registers with shock that I chose not to sit next to him. He smirks and shakes his head in disbelief.
The conversations around the table quickly get underway and everyone is joking and chatting. This group of rock stars are really laid back and fun. Being so famous I thought they might be a bit precious, but they’re easy to talk to and treat me like one of the group. I feel like I fit in really well. Over the next hour we drink and joke around. The whole time I can feel Nikki’s eyes on me.

One of the guys encourages his girl to dance with him as they stand on the bench seat and grind against each other. Our whole group starts singing along to the words of the Lily Allen song that’s playing, ‘We just wanna dance the night away, we don’t give a damn what people say, we’ve had enough, so turn it up, tonight we’re taking over …’ Everyone’s oblivious to the fact that no one else in the bar is singing or dancing. I guess these guys make their own fun.

The next thing I know Cody’s jumped up onto the top of the table. He grabs my hand and pulls me up to dance. I yelp in shock and giggle as we dance erotically on the table. I look down to Nikki and he has an annoyed scowl on his face. He rubs his chin in thought then lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head. With a smug smirk on his face he jumps up, quickly launches himself onto the table and flicks me around so I’m facing him. He assertively grabs my hands and places them around his neck and grasps me firmly on my hips. He’s smiling at me confidently as he growls into my ear, “No more games Trixie, you’re mine and it’s about time you realized that you and me are inevitable”.

Holy crap! I guess my teasing has had the desired effect as he stakes his claim. His eyes are hooded and oh so sexy. It’s then that I notice his irises are the color of chocolate. They had previously been covered by his sunglasses but they’re so intense I can feel them burning into me. My insides melt.
He pulls me in close so our bodies are touching all the way from our knees to our shoulders. We move together in time to the music and I feel his hard and very large erection pushing into my stomach as we grind provocatively against each other. It’s only then that I notice that Cody is still dancing behind me. His hands are on my waist and his body is moving close to mine. Although it feels great having two sexy rock gods paying me this much attention, I decide it’s time to let Nikki know I’m definitely interested in him. I look over my shoulder to Cody, raise my hand to my mouth and blow him a good bye kiss. Cody shrugs his shoulders and I quickly turn my attention back to Nikki. We continue to move against each other provocatively, I’m sure we’re putting on quite a show, but this boy is making my body sing. I can’t wait for this night to progress…








Tania Sparks Author Bio















The first thing you need to know about me is that I genuinely believe in true love and soul mates. I met my wonderful husband when we were still at school. I was sixteen, he was seventeen, we are high school sweethearts. Now more than twenty five years later, we are still very much in love and are happily married with two beautiful children. We live in picturesque New Zealand and I consider ourselves lucky to live in this magnificent part of the world.

I do have a full time job, but in my spare minutes I enjoy spending time with my family, cooking and reading. I’m an avid reader and tend to chomp through a large volume of books, mainly in the romance genre. And of course my other major ‘hobby’ is writing steamy rock star erotic romances!

I started writing in early 2014. After spending many years writing business documentation, and constantly being inspired by numerous romance novels, I decided to try my hand at fictional writing. After penning my first scene I discovered that I enjoyed it immensely and so resolved to continue with the rest of the story that was swirling in my imagination. That story resulted in my first novel,

Heaven Sent.

My Oblivion on Tour Series follows the five band members of the hard rock group Oblivion. Each book in the series follows a different band member and their quest for love.

Book 1 - Heaven Sent - Ash and Eve’s story
Book 2 - Bolt From The Blue - Nikki and Trixie’s story
Books 3, 4 & 5 will each tell Cody, Scott and Hansen’s stories.

I hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoy writing them.


Follow me on Facebook: http://facebook.com/TaniaSparksAuthor
Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/TaniaSparksAuth
View my Website and Blog at: http://www.taniasparks.com

Tania Sparks Author Interview

















Tell us about you
The first thing you need to know about me is that I genuinely believe in true love and soul mates. I met my wonderful husband when we were still at school. I was sixteen, he was seventeen, we are high school sweethearts. Now more than twenty five years later, we are still very much in love and are happily married with two beautiful children. We live in picturesque New Zealand and I consider ourselves lucky to live in this magnificent part of the world.

I do have a full time job, but in my spare minutes I enjoy spending time with my family, cooking, reading and of course my other major ‘hobby’ is writing steamy rock star erotic romances!




What books do you write?
My Oblivion on Tour Series follows the five band members of the hard rock group Oblivion. Each book in the series follows a different band member and their quest for love.
Book 1 - Heaven Sent - Ash and Eve’s story
Book 2 - Bolt From The Blue - Nikki and Trixie’s story
Books 3, 4 & 5 will each tell Cody, Scott and Hansen’s stories.



What are your books about?
Hot sexy rock stars and the girls that steal their hearts!






What’s the best thing about being an author?
Doing something that you love! Also, it’s a real thrill when others enjoy what you write. Writing is a very solitary thing, but sharing it with others is incredible.



How do you get inspired to write?
I listen to a lot of music which inspires me heaps, but the main thing that inspires me is the characters themselves. They are constantly in my head just dying to tell me their story.



How do you write?
Although I’m a definite planner with everything else, I tend to write by the seat of my pants – the characters talk to me and tell me their story. I tend to have a general idea where the story is going to go, but the actual story and details change as I start to write.



When do you write?
In every spare minute I can grab! I try to write every day. I get up at 5am most mornings so I can squeeze in an hour or two before my family get up and we all have to head off for the day. If I’m not busy at work I try to fit in a few minutes here and there. I also try to write some evenings but the majority of my writing is done on weekends.



What made you sit down and decide to write something?
I started writing in early 2014. After spending many years writing business documentation, and constantly being inspired by numerous romance novels, I decided to try my hand at fictional writing. After penning my first scene I discovered that I enjoyed it immensely and so resolved to continue with the rest of the story that was swirling in my imagination. That story resulted in my first novel, Heaven Sent .



Do you aim for a set amount of words per day?
Although the stories I write are not planned in any major way – everything else is planned, scheduled and organised to meticulous detail – including how many words I need to write each day to reach my targets. I aim for ten thousand words a week.



What advice would you give to your younger self?
Just do it. Don’t wait. Start now!
I waited so long before I discovered how much enjoyment and pleasure I get from writing. I wish I’d started earlier but I guess that means I’m just going to have to write faster to make up for lost time!






What do Oblivion sound like?
Hard, heavy and as hot as hell! I have a number of bands that inspire my imagination including Like A Storm, Hinder, Linkin Park, Foo Fighters, Shihad, Royal Blood and Chevelle.



What do you like to read and who are your favorite authors?
I’m an avid reader and tend to chomp through a large volume of books, mainly in the romance genre. I have so many favorite authors and I definitely couldn’t mention them all here, but the list includes SC Stephens, K Bromberg, Jodi Ellen Malpas, Sylvia Day, Chloe Cox and Olivia Cunning. Whenever any of these amazing ladies release a book it’s an instant one-click for me!



What is your favorite motivational phrase?
I have a million phrases and quotes that motivate me, in fact my desk and walls are covered in them, but my current favorite is:
“What you to today is important because you are exchanging a day of your life for it.”

~~COVER REVEAL~~ UNRULY by Cora Brent



Unruly 
by: Cora Brent
Publication Date: May 2015
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations

Synopsis

Forbidden hookups are rarely simple.  
Claudia Giordano only plans to be home long enough to watch her eternally irresponsible father marry her high school nemesis.  
She never expects to embark on some horny sex odyssey with a wild nineteen-year-old baseball player.    
Easton Malone is cocky, crude and off-limits on so many levels.
That hot, reckless week should never have happened.  The only option is to forget.    
But life’s triumphs and heartbreaks keep bringing Easton and Claudia together again.  
And again….


In the beginning they only find lust.
At the end they find each other.  
Along the way they find everything else.  



WARNING:  
There will be sex.  (A lot of it.) 
There will be grief.  (You might find yourself ugly crying.)
But there will also be redemption in the face of tragedy.  
And yes, love will prevail.  





About the Author



Cora Brent was born in a cold climate and escaped as soon as it was legally possible. Now, she lives in the desert with her husband, two kids and a prickly pear cactus she has affectionately named ‘Spot’. Cora’s closet is filled with boxes of unfinished stories that date back her 1980’s childhood and all her life she has dreamed of being an author.  Amazingly, she is now a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of contemporary romance and begs not to be awakened from this dream.

Social Media Links

Goodreads - http://tiny.cc/3ynhxx
Facebook - http://tiny.cc/eznhxx

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway



~~RELEASE ~~ BRANDO THE SANTINI BROTHERS,SERIES #2 by Marita A. Hansen


Brando
The Santini Brothers Series #2
by Marita A. Hansen
Publication Date: April 27, 2015

Synopsis

Death and sex on two legs ... BRANDO is coming for you.

Dark, brooding, and one hell of an asshole, Brando walks through life taking what he wants—and who he wants, whether they like it or not. And he wants Ivy, the second in command of the Vipers—a team of female assassins.

Having been owned before, Ivy tries to resist Brando, who is just as deviant as her former master—a notorious human trafficker called the Black Russian. But after discovering Brando’s devastating past, she sets out to get to know the real man behind the beautiful face: a tortured soul with secrets to die for.


Purchase Links

Amazon
     US - http://tiny.cc/e2dgxx
     UK - http://tiny.cc/9segxx
     CA - http://tiny.cc/1tegxx
Barnes & Noble - http://tiny.cc/jvegxx


The Santini Brothers #1



About the Author

NATIONALITY AND CULTURAL CONNECTIONS: I'm a true blue Aucklander, born and bred in New Zealand. I tend to write about cultures I have connections to, such as Croatian and Maori. I would love to visit Croatia again as I have family there. However, in My Masters' Nightmare, I have started writing about Italians. My husband is part Italian and I also have a degree in Italian.

SPORTS: As a teen my favorite sports were karate, badminton, and running. I also did unarmed combat and played in a touch rugby team (my gym teacher made me do the last one!) Now, I stick to coaching soccer and running. I have completed two marathons, numerous half-marathons and one 30K run.

CAREER PATH: I started off as a Graphic Designer, then went to Auckland University, where I got a BA degree in Art History and Italian Studies and a post-graduate Honors degree in Art History. I worked in the Art History field, then became a full-time artist, doing commissions. I eventually lost all of my senses and gave it up to be a poor, starving writer, smh.

FAVORITE FOODS: I'm vegetarian. I love pasta based foods, tofu, chocolate mousse and golden queen peaches.

BAD HABITS: I'm a major procrastinator that can't seem to earn money to save myself!

STATUS: Married to my high school sweetheart (which he hates me calling him). We have two kids.

Author Links

~~RELEASE~~ THE VOYEUR NEXT DOOR by Airicka Phoenix














Title: The Voyeur Next Door


Author: Airicka Phoenix    


Genre: NA Contemporary Erotic

*Warnings: Strong sexual content & language. (18+ Only)*

Release Date: April 27, 2015


Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours






Blurb:







He lived next door.

Alison Eckrich was an expert at being invisible. Having been raised by a mother who saw only flaws, she had learned long ago to watch and never participate. Until him. He was gorgeous from what little she could make out through his bathroom window and he awakened things inside her she had always been told was wrong. But she didn’t care.

She was addicted.

Gabriel Madoc was no stranger to the cold sting of betrayal. His broken heart had left him hard and bitter and that was how he liked it. Until her. She was a vision in the soft twilight. Everything about her called to him. It didn’t even matter he couldn’t see her face.

He wanted her.

The rules were simple: No names. No faces. No attachments. They both had what the other needed so long as they never broke the rules. But what will happen when the mystery is unveiled and they both

come face to face with the truth and each other? Is what they shared in the cloak of darkness enough to keep them together, or will reality tear them apart?




FB Release Party: https://www.facebook.com/events/808116989263187/

























Chapter One





Ali




“God, baby, I need you inside me so bad…” My husky moan fogged the glass, obscuring my view of the deep fried and smothered in chocolate goodness just one creepy glass lick away from being all mine. “But I can’t let you control my life anymore.”


The pimply faced adolescent on the other side of the counter fidgeted uncomfortably, clearly disturbed by my affections, and possibly the drool marks I was leaving on his pristine display case.


“Ma’am?”


Giving the pastry one final glance of longing, I turned to him. “Just tea. Decaf because I apparently hate myself.”


Still looking nervous—maybe he was afraid I would start making out with the register next—he punched in my order, muttered off my total and then scurried off to grab me a pretty white cup and fill it with hot water. I set my money down and waited, all the while casting furtive peeks at the Boston cream pastry eyeing me back with a seductive, chocolaty glaze that all but whispered all the ways it could make me feel muy mucho goodo because that was how all my dirty fantasies started—with my food sounding like Antonio Banderas.


My water and teabag were set on the counter and nudged towards me the way lions were fed at the zoo—with a long stick poking their meals in under a steel cage door. Only the stick was his finger and the counter was the only thing keeping him safe from my all out crazy. My money was swept into a sweaty palm and tossed carelessly into the register. The drawer was slammed shut. Then there was nothing left for me to do but leave. Yet my weakness took that moment to nearly win; I started to open my mouth to order the pastry anyway, to portray that fuck it attitude I only pretended I possessed. But who was I kidding? It would never be just the one and my ass could do without the extra pounds.


Dejected, I took my disgusting drink and shuffled off to find a table somewhere within the air conditioned heaven. No one wanted to sit outside when it was hot enough to fry bacon. But most of the tables in the small café were full by drone-eyed squatters slumped over their laptops and cappuccinos.


Bastards.


Moving quickly down the line leading all the way to the door, I bee-lined for the only available table out on the shaded patio. My scalding water sloshed in the cup, but stayed stubbornly within the confines of the ceramic.


The moment I shouldered open the doors, I knew I’d made a mistake getting tea; it was just too damn hot.


I glanced back over my shoulder at the line. Nope. No way was I standing in that death trap a second time, not even for a Frappuccino with whipped cream and chocolate syrup, which was what I had originally gone in to get, except the beautifully athletic woman ahead of me had ordered a soy, low fat, no foam, something-something-something latte and the guilt had been too much. When the boy had

fixed me with those judgy little eyes, I had balked and let myself be swayed by peer pressure and shame.


Resigned, I went to the table and sat. I stuffed my purse into the seat next to me and wondered how to drink my tea without sweating to death. I started by dropping my teabag into the water and watching as dark tendrils escaped and tainted the clear liquid. I adjusted my glasses as they began to slide down my sweaty nose and squinted at all the blinding brightness around me.


The café sat in the middle of a semi busy street catering mostly to restaurants and coffee shops and the occasional art studio. I wasn’t normally a coffee drinker and art made no sense to me, but I liked people. More importantly, I liked watching them … secretly … from a very great distance so as not to have to interact. People fascinated me. The things they did half the time made me question just how much chemicals and hormones really went into our food. But the problem with the artsy part of town was that it was very shiny. Everything gleamed. There were lights everywhere and everyone was dressed in bold, flashy colors that hurt the brain.


Me, in my long black skirt and baggy blouse melded with the décor. I could never pull off bold and sexy. Hell, I couldn’t even pull off one of those. Most days, my face would be lucky to see makeup, just because it was time taken away from something less pointless. No guy that didn’t require coke bottle glasses would ever look in my direction twice. Everything about me was all the things most men never noticed in a woman, unless they were into lobotomizing their dates. I just didn’t have the right looks to get men excited. It was a fact I had come to accept. Me and my lowly little decaf cup of tea.


“Rats!”


The exclamation was followed by the ripping sound of paper and the thud of things striking pavement. I twisted around in my seat just as an elderly man dropped down next to his torn bag of groceries. Pedestrians flocked around him, parting like the Red Sea to avoid stepping on him, or his things. But no one stopped to give him a hand as he scrambled to scoop items off the ground.


Abandoning my untouched drink, I hurried from my seat and dropped down next to him. My hands closed around a bag of apples, a tray of fresh chicken breasts and several cans of corn. I hugged them to my chest as he dumped his armload into the torn paper bag.


“Here,” I said, pulling the bag to me and emptying my things inside as well.


There was a stalk of celery and a carton of eggs that had upended on the sidewalk. I managed to salvage the celery. But the eggs had already begun to sizzle against the concrete.


“I think your eggs are toast,” I told him, stuffing the celery into the bag. “Or fried eggs, I guess.”


The man sighed. “Figures. That’s what I get for getting them free range eggs for about ten dollars more.”


It was a struggle not to laugh at the disgruntled huff.


“I think I have a plastic bag in my purse,” I said instead. “We might be able to fit all of this into it.”


Taking the bag from him, I walked back to my table and dragged my purse over. I opened the first pocket and rummaged inside.


The man shuffled up beside me and whistled. “Now, I’ve seen some crazy purses women carry around, but that right there is a doozy.”


My purse really was unique. When I first found it, it had only had the one big pocket and the one tiny pocket sewn into the inside. By the time I finished with it, it had about twenty pockets in various shapes and sizes and they all carried something. I had everything from a tiny sewing kit, to a paperback novel nestled inside. There were packets of tissue, gum, a small set of screw drivers, several zip ties, different sizes of Ziploc bags. and even a flashlight. I had everything a person could possibly need for just about any occasion. Because of all that, the bag was actually kind of heavy, which came in handy if I ever had to hit someone, which hadn’t happened yet, but I was hopeful.


“I like being prepared,” I told him. “Here we go!” Shaking out the plastic bag, I slid the paper one into it and held it out to the man. “There you are.”


The man squinted at me with one brown eye. The other one was screwed shut against the sun and he had to cup a gnarled hand over his brows to see me properly.


He had to be in his late seventies with big, child-like eyes and a kind face that immediately made a person like him. What little hair he had was combed over the wide bald patch on his head and looked as fine as a baby’s. His frail body was tucked into a pair of beige trousers and a checkered top that was buttoned all the way to his throat.


“What’s your name?” he asked.


Still holding the bag, I smiled. “Alison Eckrich.” I held out my free hand. “Everyone calls me Ali.”


He took it in a surprisingly firm handshake. “Earl Madoc.” He let my hand go and squinted some more. “Listen, Ali, you wouldn’t mind helping an old man get his groceries home, would you? My arthritis is just killing me today.” He rubbed his contorted hand, working the stiff muscles with a grimace deepening his wrinkles. “I live about a block down that way. I would pay you for your troubles.”


I waved away the offer. I was done with the whole fresh air thing and would have probably gone home anyway. Walking him would have been no skin off my nose, especially since he was walking in the same general direction.


I grabbed my purse, threw the strap around my shoulders, and took up his bag of groceries once more.


“Lead the way, Earl.”


Offering me a kind smile, he started forward at a shuffle-limp, like his right leg had been injured at some point and hadn’t recovered properly. I wasn’t sure if that was the case, or if it was just age, but I wondered why he didn’t walk with a cane if it hurt him as much as it seemed to. I didn’t ask. I figured whatever the reason was, it was his business.


We walked in silence for several steps and stopped at the lights.


“So what do you do, Ali Eckrich?” Earl asked as the lights changed and we started across.


“I am currently between jobs,” I replied around a tight curl of my lips. “I just moved here, so actually I’m kind of still looking.”


“No kidding.” He scratched his jaw dusted with a fine layer of white bristle. The sound reminded me of sandpaper. “Where did you move from?”


“Portland, Oregon,” I answered.


Earl’s eyes went wide. “An American!”


I laughed. “No, I was only there for school. I’m originally from Alberta.”


“What did you study?”


I pulled in a breath that smelled of fried hotdogs from the cart we passed and asphalt from the construction crew working on the roads a street down.


“I have my bachelor’s degree in business administration.”


Earl whistled through his teeth. “That’s fancy.”


“Four years,” I confessed.


“And they didn’t teach that here at the schools in Canada?”


I laughed at that. It was the same comment I got from my sister when I initially got accepted to the University of Portland. But at least she had known the real reason behind my need to get as far away from home as possible. Earl didn’t need to and I didn’t need to tell him.


“It was a growing experience,” I said, using my fall back response to most things.


“So you’re good with the books and things of a business.”


I shrugged. “Yes, and marketing and finances.”


“Interesting.” He scratched his jaw again. “Do you know anything about filing?”


“Filing?”


“Organizing,” he corrected.


I had to shrug at that. “I guess. Depends on what it is.”


We turned a corner and started down Pine Street. For a split second, I almost stopped, thinking I was inadvertently leading the poor guy back to my house. But Earl kept shuffling onward and I hurried to keep up.


“I just moved to this street,” I said. “My apartment is further down.”


“Yeah? My grandson did, too,” Earl said.


I started to ask where, when Earl veered left, hobbling his way towards a large, badly painted building that was impregnating the whole street with a powerful stench of motor grease, metal, and sweat. The rusty sign bolted over the trio of wide garage doors spelled, Madoc Auto Body Repair. The bay doors were all open to the bright afternoon. Two were empty. The middle one had a car hoisted on a lift. A man in a blue jumpsuit stood in the trench underneath with a handheld work light.


“It’s all right,” Earl called out to me when he realized I wasn’t following him. “This here has been in the family for near four generations.”

Curiosity perked, I knuckled my glasses back up the bridge of my nose and shuffled after him. Up close, the smell did not improve.


The man beneath the Pontiac banged on the underside of the car with a wrench; the sound swallowed the hum of jazz spilling from the boom box perched on the red toolbox next to the car. I watched him even as I followed Earl up a set of stairs built into the side of the garage, leading into what appeared to be an office cut out of gray stone slabs. It was impossible to tell what was hidden beneath the towers of paper that were layered over every available flat surface. There was another set of doors straight across, painted a harsh yellow that led to what looked like stairs going up. Earl stopped at the bottom, gripping the railing bolted into the side and leaned against the wall, his face flushed.


“The kitchen is straight up,” he panted slightly. “I’d show you, but that heat just about did me in and I can’t trust myself on them stairs right now.”


Concerned by the sheen of sweat glistening across his brow, I tossed a frantic glance over the room. I caught sight of a swiveling chair poking out from beneath the papers and hurried over to it. The wheels grated against the concrete as I shoved it to where Earl half slumped against the wall.


“Here.” I guided him into it. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some water?”


Earl smiled at me. “You are such a sweet little thing.”


“Will you be okay if I run up?”


He waved me away as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.


Not wanting to leave him alone for longer than I had to, I hurried up the stairs, grocery bag in tow. At the top, I paused as the loft-style space came into view. The layout was straightforward with a bedroom set in one corner beneath a grand, bay window. At the foot of it, was a sitting area equipped with a leather sofa, recliner and TV. Across from that was a kitchenette and a bathroom on my right. I moved towards the kitchen. I ran the tap and occupied myself by shoving the groceries into the fridge while I waited for the water to get cold.


“Who are you?”


The pack of chicken breasts slipped out of my hands with my undignified squeak of fright and hit the top of my sandaled foot. I whirled around to confront the sudden explosion of words from behind me. The booming voice was male, but it was the volume of it, the sheer weight behind the sound that prickled the skin along my spine. My hand trembled as I fidgeted with my glasses, shoving them back into place so the dark, blurry shadow looming mere feet away could come into focus.


I wasn’t blind. I could see most things without my glasses. They just weren’t very clear. Everything had a fuzzy hue around the edges. Kind of like a smudged pastel painting, exaggerating the shapes and size of people.


This guy was not exaggerated.


No less than seven feet with a frame that was clearly stolen from some lumberjack catalogue, he stood blocking my escape. I mean, I could have maybe done some crazy ninja lunge over the counter, but that probably wasn’t going to happen. Instead, I stood there, slack-jawed, staring at the mountain man glowering back at me with a suspicion one would normally reserve for diamond thieves and those bitches who steal all the bikes at the gym just to sit and talk to each other.


He wore flannel, which only made my lumberjack theory all the more plausible. It was undone over a white t-shirt and form fitting jeans that hugged his lean legs the way I kind of wanted to. The hems fell over battered and really ugly boots that needed an incinerator to put them out of their misery and were frayed around the cuffs. His chest strained beneath the thin material with every breath and my gaze was drawn to the hard squares cut of his breast plates and along the wide lengths of his shoulders. The sleeves on the flannel were rolled up his toned forearms and barely concealed the raw muscles underneath.


Definitely a lumberjack.


Shit the man was hot. Screw Boston cream pastries. I’ll take two of him.


“Hello?”


Blinking, my eyes shot up to the head attached to that delicious body and my steamy fantasy bubble popped.


Thick, black hair covered his jaw and mouth in a beard. His hair was the same shade of ebony and hung uncut around his ears and over the collar of his flannel. From amongst all that hair, I could just make out piercing, intense gray eyes.


“Really?” I blurted in clear disappointment, my brain and mouth having lost communication at some point.


It was his turn to blink in surprise. He leaned over and snapped the faucet off with a smack of his palm.


“What?”


There was no helping it. My whole day was officially ruined and it was his fault.


Okay, I had no problem with men with facial hair. Sometimes, it was even hot. But not when it looked like he was going for a yearlong expedition through the Himalayan Mountains, or planned to live with bears out in the wilderness. There was a reason trimmers and razors were invented. And … Goddamn it! The dude was too hot for that shit.


“Are you lost?” he demanded when I could only stand there and silently judge him.


“I don’t know! Maybe you could loan me a compass!” I shot back. “Or a hatchet.” So I was just being crazy and I almost couldn’t blame him for his confounded scowl. I took a deep breath. “I’m Ali,” I said calmly and rationally. “I—”


“Gabriel?” Earl limped up the stairs, clutching tight to the banister until he was at the top. He looked better, I noted. The flush was gone from his face and he wasn’t panting. “I didn’t know you were here.”


Gabriel turned to the other man.


“Really?” I was amazed at how much that single question sounded like mine, full of indignant disapproval. “She’s not even half your age.”


I had not seen that coming.


“Whoa! Wait. What?”


I was ignored.


“Why do they keep getting younger?” he demanded of Earl. “You’re going to break a damn hip … again, and I’m going to have to listen while you explain to the doctor how you broke the fucking thing … again! You’re eighty years old, Grandpa!” Gabriel then rounded on me. “He’s eighty years old!”


“Dude!” I began, putting both hands up to ward off the craziness he was spewing. “I am not tapping that.” I winced and shot Earl a sheepish smile. “No offense.” I went back to glowering at Lumberjack. “So his hip is perfectly safe with me.”


Gabriel looked me over. Actually looked me over with a disbelief that was astounding. Did I have old man hooker stamped to my forehead, or something? Like seriously? I was insulted … and then he added salt to my injuries.


“I guess,” he mumbled. “Did he forget to return a book, or something? I didn’t know the library did house calls.”


How. The. Fuck. Did I go from being a hooker, to a librarian in the span of two seconds?


“Ali was kind enough to help me with my groceries,” Earl piped in before I could kick his lovely grandson in the family jewels.


Swooping down, I hefted up the pack of chicken still lying at my feet and shoved it into his gut with all the force in me. His grunt of pain was only mildly satisfying.


“I accept apologizes in written form only,” I growled through my teeth. “I like to file them under Fuckhead.”


With that, I stomped around him and started for the stairs.


“Ali, wait.” Earl hurried after me, and I only stopped for him. Otherwise, I was ready to make my grand exit, stage left. “Don’t mind Gabriel. His mother drank while she was pregnant.”


“Grandpa!”


He ignored his grandson, which amused me. I was really beginning to like Earl. Enough to sleep with him? Uh, no. But definitely enough to want to give him a high five.


“I still owe you for helping me with my groceries.”


I shook my head. “Really it’s fine. I have to get home anyway and continue the job hunt. But it was wonderful to meet you.”


“Actually!” Earl grabbed my hand before I could leave. “That’s exactly what I want to do.”


I frowned. “You want to help me job hunt?”


“Yes and no,” he answered with a chuckle. “We need someone with your expertise here at the shop and you need a job. I think we can help each other out.”


“What are you doing, Grandpa?” Gabriel demanded.


“I’m getting this place an administrative assistant,” Earl retorted. “Someone who knows how to do the books and filing, because apparently you got my brains when it comes to paperwork.”


Gabriel scowled. The guy was a professional scowler. I could tell. He was very good at his job.


“We’re doing fine,” he grumbled.


“Have you seen the office, Gabriel?” Earl countered. “I found a form the other day dating back to when the shop was first opened. We need the help.”


Gabriel seemed to chew this bit of information over, possibly literally. His face-bush kept twitching. Either that, or some unsuspecting rodent had made a home beneath that jungle.


“Fine. I’ll call someone,” he replied. “There has to be an agency, or—”


“Why when Ali’s right here?” Earl said, waving a hand at me.


Those smolderingly gray eyes darted to me and narrowed even further if possible. “You met the girl two minutes ago. How do you know she’s any good? Besides, she barely looks old enough to be out of school.”


Yeah, this guy and I would never be friends. He made me want to stab him, repeatedly, with something pointy and rusty. That didn’t make for very good friendship.


“I graduated with my bachelors last year,” I informed him sharply. “And spent the last ten months interning at one of the biggest ad companies in Portland. Trust me, I am very good at what I do.”


“And I am a very good judge of character,” Earl added. “I like Ali and since this is still my shop, I’m hiring her.”


Gabriel stared hard at his grandfather. “That’s not how this works. You need references and—”


“I’m not an idiot, Gabriel!” Earl snapped. “I’ve been doing this since before you were born. But she’s the one I want.”


It didn’t even dawn on me that I had just accepted a job at a garage. At that moment, all I wanted was to rub it in Gabriel’s smug little face. Then it hit me.


“Wait, you’re giving me a job?”


Gabriel threw his hands up. “Observant.”


I opened my mouth to tell him I was ten different belts of crazy and not afraid to use all of them on him if he kept pushing me, but Earl touched my arm.


“If you want it,” he said kindly. “It might not be all fancy, but you can start tomorrow. Bring your papers and Gabriel will go over them.”


With that, and a pat on my shoulder, he shuffled back down the stairs, leaving me alone with Mountain Man.


“Are you sleeping with him?”


Unbelievable.


“I don’t sleep with men to get what I want, Jack,” I snapped. “I’m perfectly capable of getting through life without offering my taco to every man that walks my way.”


That seemed to silence him. He watched me like I was some endangered species that just made no sense. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I wasn’t there for his approval. I certainly didn’t want it.


But, at the same time, I did need a job. After three months of unemployment, my savings had begun to grow a happy family of dust bunnies and I didn’t know when I would get another offer like that. Besides, it would only be temporary. I could watch my mouth and temper for a few months.


Gabriel turned his full attention on me, which meant not just his eyes, or his head, but his entire body so we were facing off. I hated that he was taller than me. Pretending to be a bad ass took extra effort when you were stuck glowering at a beautiful man chest.


“My grandfather is eighty years old,” he told me again in a deep, quiet tone. “He’s trusting of pretty faces, but I’m not. I may not have any say in who he hires, but that sure as hell won’t stop me from booting you out of here if I smell even a hint of foul play.”


“What exactly do you think I’m after?” I wondered. “And what exactly does foul play smell like?”


His gaze roamed along my frame, taking in everything from the chipped, purple nail polish on my toes to the messy knot that was my hair bun. I wasn’t sure which of that irritated him more, because his frown never shifted. He seemed to disapprove of all of me.


“Look,” I said, struggling to keep my calm when all I wanted to do was throat punch the guy for making me feel about two inches tall with just a look. “I get it. You think a woman doesn’t belong in a garage.”


“You’re right,” he said evenly. “That’s exactly what I think.”


It took me a full second to peel my jaw off the floor.


“That is the most sexist thing I have ever—”


“Do you know what women are, Ali? A liability,” he went on, ignoring my irate sputtering. “They come into a place and destroy it with the two ton bag of drama they heave around. I don’t like drama. And I don’t like trouble, which is exactly what you are.”


Any other time, any other person and I would have taken that as a compliment. As it were, his condescending bullshit pissed me off.


“And how am I trouble?” I bite out with all the composure I could scrounge up. “Is it the glasses, because I can vouch for their character?” His eyes narrowed, but I didn’t give a shit. “You know, this is why women don’t feel comfortable bringing their cars in to get checked, because of assholes like you who treat them like they’re braindead and unworthy of a fair exchange. You think just because we’re women and may not know as much about vehicles as men that we’re somehow less superior to you. Well, you know what, Jack, you can keep your fucking job. I wouldn’t work for you, with you, near you if you paid me in gold bricks.”


Whirling on my heels, I left.


I walked out of the garage without running into Earl. I briefly wondered if I should find him and thank him for the generous offer that I needed to decline, but thought better of it. I needed to get away from that asshole before I did something I might not regret later.


My apartment was a two block walk from the garage, tucked behind a towering wall of spruce trees. It sat nestled on a slight incline surrounded by Victorian homes and other smaller apartments. Mine was one of the older structures. The red brick was faded and chipped in places and the windows were the enormous panes used in lofts, but the rent was cheap and I liked the view.


The building itself had originally been two separate structures with six stories each. At some point, someone had connected the pair by a wall on either end, leaving a narrow gap in between that opened into a courtyard that was never used because realistically, it was a squished alley someone spruced up with flowerboxes. I could easily leap from my balcony into the apartment across the way … if I was Cat Woman, or a burglar. As it were, I was neither and had no desire to leap into an empty apartment. But the thing I did like to do was occasionally stand by the terrace doors and watch the lives of the people in the other building. As a person who lived on the sixth floor, dead center, I had the perfect angle to see most of what was going on in the other suites. Call me crazy, or a pervert, but most people in my position would do the same, especially since there was nowhere else to look, except to maybe count the bricks on the building. My neighbors were much more interesting.


I have always liked watching. I like seeing how people interact and behave alone and in groups. I like wondering what they’re talking about and what they’re thinking. As a child, I was the lone kid on the playground, the one that said nothing, but stared at the others as they ran and played. I was okay with

that. I never cared that I wasn’t picked for teams, or asked to play skip rope. While I wasn’t some creepy shut in that liked collecting strands of my classmate’s hairs to make dolls, I didn’t go out of my way to make friends either. I still don’t. Friends are great, except I never know what to do with them. I see other people and it all seems so natural. They laugh and talk and make plans to talk and laugh some more at a later date. I would probably throw a fry at them and hope they were distracted enough not to notice me running away.


So I stayed home. When I did have to interact, I did so cautiously and tried not to make any sudden movements. Occasionally, I could even have full on conversations with people without anyone getting hurt. But I liked my solitary life. I cherished it even.


My apartment was designed by someone with no concept of measurements. Everything was done in extremes. The living room was barely big enough for a sofa, while the only bedroom was enormous. The kitchen was small, but the single bathroom could fit an entire Russian circus. The closet in the hall could have doubled as a second bedroom if it hadn’t been so narrow, while the pantry in the kitchen could barely hold a stack of towels. I was only thankful no one ever came to visit me or it would have been hard to explain why my bedroom was in the living room and why my living room was in my bedroom, or why all my food was in the closet down the hall near the bathroom and my towels were in my kitchen. It all worked fine for me, but I knew it wasn’t normal.


Tossing my keys and purse onto the glass table I kept by the front door, I kicked off my sandals and made my way into the bedroom. It was a short walk down a minute hall that split off in three separate directions. Right to the kitchen. Left to the living room and bathroom, and straight for the bedroom. My toes curled in the plush carpet that extended from wall to wall. Underneath it was the scarred hardwood that came with the place. But after a week of waking up to use the bathroom and having to tiptoe on what felt like a sheet of ice, I said screw it and splurged on a carpet. Best investment ever.


My bedroom was my favorite spot in the whole place and it showed. It was designed for comfort and easy access to everything. My queen sized bed faced the TV I had mounted over a glass set of shelves holding my DVD player and surround sound. On one side of the bed was my mini fridge. The other held an end table with a lamp and the remotes to the TV. The terrace doors were on the other side of my bed, draped in sheer curtains. On the opposite side of the room, against the wall that separated the bedroom from the kitchen was my vanity. Everything was within reach.


I stripped. I rarely saw the point of being dressed at home. There was no one there to judge me for the way I looked, or what shape I was in. It was my place of sanctuary. Plus there was something liberating about eating a cup of pudding completely naked.

At a little after six, I drew on a robe, turned off the TV and wandered into the kitchen for a bowl of something. My pantry consisted mostly of things that could easily be warmed, cans of soup, microwavable dinners, the occasional canisters of squeeze cheese. I lived for one person. Me. If I wanted to cook a full meal, I had the luxury of running to the grocery store, grabbing the items and coming home. But those desires were rare. As it were, I grabbed a bowl of cereal and made my way to the terrace.


Seven o’clock was when my neighbors came home. It was when the dark windows lit up and life happened on the other side of the glass. I treated seven o’clock the way soap opera junkies treated their favorite sitcoms, with reverence and excitement.


The steel hoops embedded into the curtains hissed as I dragged the sheer drapes across the metal rod. I propped the glass doors open to the muggy evening and leaned a hip against the frame.


It was still fairly bright out. The sun was just making its final descent behind the buildings, but the narrow notch of space that I considered my little world had shadows slinking their way across the bricks. The lights from the other apartments were sharper, brighter, casting the figures inside into edgy silhouettes.


There were eighteen apartments. Each floor had three windows stamped into the side. I had given each one a name, which periodically changed as the occupants did. For example, in the three months I’d lived there, no one had ever rented the apartment adjacent to mine so that had come to be known as the Empty. Levels one, two, and three were impossible to see into from my sixth floor view. So that left me four, five and six. Four was iffy. I could only see about six feet into their apartments. But five and six were gold and that was where my favorite people lived.


Window one, top row: Old Man and Young Girl I had assumed for the first three weeks were father and daughter. So. Not. I learned that the hard way while eating spicy curry and nearly dying when he heaved the girl against the glass and started fucking her.


Window two, top row: Empty.


Window three, top row: Crazy Jungle Couple who fought like piranha’s over fresh meat and made love just as intensely. They were better to watch than WWE on pay per view. I always had popcorn ready for when they got home. It was impossible to tell how the night would end.


Window one, second row: an Asian Couple with Little Girl. Watching them made me nostalgic for my own family, but then the girl would cry and throw things and that feeling would go away.


Window two, second row: Slutty Blonde with copious number of lovers. That week, she was banging the occupant of window three, second row, Handsome Dark Haired Dude with a beer belly but a seriously massive cock.


Row three was full of families.


Window one, row three: Single Mother with Little Boy. I would occasionally see him sitting at the window with his hand held game, munching on carrot sticks.


Window two, row three: Man and Woman with Twin Ghost Daughters. I was convinced those two girls were from The Shining. Creepy little shits. Every so often, I would look down and they’d just be standing there … staring back. Not blinking. It made it even creepier that they were both extremely pale with dead eyes and long dark hair. I shuddered every time my gaze roamed over their window.


Window three, row three: Large, Hairy Man with a deeper love of microwavable food than me, who spent a large portion of his time in his recliner watching football. I had a feeling he was a gambler, simply from the fits he’d always have when his team lost. It was irrational. But then what did I know about men and sports? Maybe he just had rage issues. Yet that didn’t explain why he’d get on the phone immediately afterwards and shout at whoever was on the other end. But that also could be explained. Maybe he had a friend somewhere else equally pissed and the two were venting to each other.


The fun was always in the guessing.


That evening, only three of the windows lit up. Old Man and Hopefully Not His Daughter came home first. She sauntered into the living room, tossed her bright, pink purse down on the sofa and flopped

down next to it. Old Man ambled his way into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge.


No fucking tonight, I thought, shifting my gaze to the other two windows.


The Ghost Girls were back in their lacy, purple dresses, white stockings and jet black hairs. They stood shoulder to shoulder with their backs to the window. Their dad was hanging up their matching red coats in the hallway closet. Mom wasn’t home yet. She was a secretary, or a lawyer. She didn’t get home until about eleven, stooped over like her briefcase was filled with bricks.


The third window gave me a start. The presence of the pale, golden glow took my brain a full minute to process and even it knew something wasn’t right.


Window two, top row: wasn’t empty. There was movement behind the curtains. There was light!


“Holy shit!”


Cereal bowl abandoned on the glass table next to the terrace doors, I stepped further onto the balcony. My fingers curled around the cool metal railing and I leaned in as far as I could without forgetting my not Cat woman notion and making the lunge over.


But as quickly as all the excitement had started, it sparked in surprise when the light flicked off and there was nothing. My gaze darted from the windows to the glass doors, waiting like an eager little puppy begging someone to throw the fucking ball already.


Nothing happened. The lights remained off. Stillness continued.


My gaze narrowed as I straightened. “All right,” I mumbled to the silence. “You win this round, but tomorrow…”


I let my promise linger into the night as I stepped back into my apartment.














Airicka Phoenix is a hopeless romantic with a dark imagination and an incurable addiction to chocolate. She is also the author of several novels written for young adult and new adult romance readers who like bad boys, hot kisses and a gritty plot. Airicka prides herself in producing quality material her readers can fall in love with again and again.




When she's not hard at work bleeding words onto paper, Airicka can be found cuddling with her family, reading, watching TV shows, or just finding excuses to avoid doing chores.







To find out about upcoming books, teasers, giveaways and more, join her newsletter or check out her www.AirickaPhoenix.com!:






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