#CoverReveal Just a Little Junk by Stylo Fantôme #RomComSuspense @StyloFantome #JustALittleJunk

COVER REVEAL
Title: Just a Little Junk

Author: Stylo Fantôme

Genre: Romantic Suspense/Comedy

Cover Design: Najla Qamber Designs

Release Date: May 22, 2017

 

BLURB

Jodi Morgan is having a bad weekend.
 After partying a little too hard, she wakes up with a monster hangover and almost no recollection of the night before. So imagine her surprise when she looks in her trunk and instead of finding a spare tire, she finds the last guy she’d danced with before blacking out.

Who is he? How did he get in there? How did he die? And oh dear lord, did she kill him!?
When her older brother’s best friend offers to help, things start looking up. They’ve known each other since she was thirteen, and ten years later, he still treats her like a little kid – surely, committing felonies has to trigger some sort of spark. Together, they wind up going on an adventure that takes them all over Los Angeles. From raves to penthouses to strip clubs. All in the search for the answer to her question.

Who is the dead guy in my trunk!?


Warning: This book contains some dark humor, a lot of witty banter, and two characters making more bad decisions than good ones. Also contains adult themes, language, and graphic sexual activity.

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34813113-just-a-little-junk

 
AUTHOR BIO

 Crazy woman from a remote location in Alaska (where the need for a creative mind is a necessity!), I have been writing since … forever? Yeah, that sounds about right. I have been told that I remind people of Lucille Ball – I also see shades of Jennifer Saunders, and Denis Leary. So basically, I laugh a lot, I’m clumsy a lot, and I say the F-word A LOT.

I like dogs more than I like most people, and I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t drink. No, I do not live in an igloo, and no, the sun does not set for six months out of the year, there’s your Alaska lesson for the day. I have mermaid hair – both a curse and a blessing – and most of the time I talk so fast, even I can’t understand me.

Yeah. I think that about sums me up.

 

 

AUTHOR LINKS

 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stylofantomeauthor

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Stylo-Fantôme/e/B00M4QNXUC

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8306834.Stylo_Fantome

Twitter: https://twitter.com/StyloFantome

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/stylofantome/

 

#chapterReveal #ShellyBell #ComingSoon

Chapter Reveal – At His Mercy by Shelly Bell

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Angel in his arms . . . Devil at her heels 
One last, no-strings night of indulgence. That’s all Tristan wants before he begins a much-needed new chapter in his life. Instead he finds an innocent angel in pink who brings him to his knees.
Isabella is done hiding from the world . . . and her haunting memories. Discovering courage in the arms of a perfect stranger, she finally lets go and sheds her inhibitions.
To Isabella’s shock, she soon learns that Tristan is more than her mystery man-he’s her professor. But Tristan isn’t the only person who’s found Isabella on campus. A dark figure from her past has come back for her. Now Tristan will risk anything to protect Isabella . . . even if it costs him his life.


Chapter One

If there ever was an unassuming location for a sex party, the quaint Tudor-style house in front of her definitely fit the bill. For Pete’s sake, there were children’s bicycles on the neighbor’s lawn.

Her cousin, Dreama, must have given her the wrong address.

Isabella Lawson rifled through her purse, cursing the starless night and wishing for the umpteenth time that someone would invent a purse that lit up when you opened it. After digging her way to the bottom, she finally located her cell.

A black screen.

Of course it was dead.

She leaned on her grandfather’s old Buick and growled in frustration. Would anything go right?

Tonight’s event was going to be her first sex party. And probably her last. But since Isabella couldn’t call Dreama for the right address, her plans to screw were screwed.

“What are you wearing?” asked her cousin.

Startled, Isabella spun around and pressed a palm to her chest as if trying to keep her racing heart from flying out. Her cousin had scared the stuffing out of her. She glanced down at her outfit. “What I’ve worn all summer.” Even she could admit that black stretch pants and a pink T-shirt with her family bakery’s logo probably wasn’t standard sex party wear.

Dreama blew a ring of smoke into the humid air, then took another puff of her cigarette. “That isn’t what I meant. I’m wondering why the hell you’re still wearing it.”

Fanning away the smoke, Isabella fake coughed. “I came straight from work. I didn’t have time to change. Not to mention, everything I own is in boxes.” About to leave for her freshman year of college, she’d packed up the majority of her clothes. “And I wasn’t about to ask Mom to borrow something of hers. She would’ve grilled me for information until I told her the truth.” Isabella plucked the cigarette from her cousin’s mouth, dropped it on the concrete, and ground it out with her shoe. “Would you have preferred if I’d told your aunt that you’re taking me to my first sex party?”

Dreama shook her head, a little laugh escaping her lips. “That’s all I need. Aunt Maria not only blaming me for corrupting her innocent daughter, but hauling my ass to church to confess my many sins.” She jumped up onto the hood of Isabella’s car and fished through her purse. “And I didn’t bring you to a sex party. It’s a play party.”

Isabella raised a brow in both confusion and at the fact that her cousin had just added another dent to the car’s collection. “There’s a difference?”

Dangling a cigarette between her fingers and rolling her thumb over her lighter, Dreama smiled. “Yes. Intercourse isn’t permitted at a play party.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“Sure I did,” Dreama said, bending to light her cigarette.

What was the point of being here then? She could’ve not had sex anywhere. The idea of coming to this thing was to experience BDSM in a relatively safe environment.

Isabella snatched the cigarette from her cousin and stomped on it. “No, I think I’d remember a detail like not getting laid at a sex party.” If the party wound her up, how would she get any relief? She’d already packed away her vibrator.

“Play party,” Dreama repeated, jumping off the hood of the car with a pop. “And don’t worry. There are other ways of getting off than intercourse.” Cracking up, she lewdly wiggled her fingers and stuck out her tongue.

Isabella’s cheeks heated. “Oh.”

Dreama placed a hand on her hip. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you here. You’re so innocent.”

She ran her fingertip along the pink scar on her left forearm. She’d always thought innocence referred to the status of your virginity. How wrong she’d been. Innocence was a state of mind, and she’d lost hers the hard way. Her scars would always remind her of that. “I’m not innocent,” she said quietly. “Not anymore.”

As her cousin was one of the few who knew the truth about what had happened to Isabella last year, her eyes clouded over with sympathy. “No, I suppose you’re not.” She curled her hands around Isabella’s shoulders, concern etched on her face. “Are you ready to go in and get a firsthand look, or would you rather go get a drink somewhere? I’m good either way.”

“Isn’t your Dom in there waiting for you?” Isabella asked.

Dreama’s lips tilted up in a smile. “Master Jamie is inside, but he’ll understand if I go get a drink with you. He knows you and I won’t get to see each other for a while.”

“I want to go inside,” she said. And she did, despite her racing heart and her sweaty palms. “I need to do it. You know I do.”

After surviving what she and her parents referred to as “the incident,” Isabella found that she’d lost her ability to trust anyone, especially herself. As a result, instead of having gone away to college as planned, she’d allowed her parents to convince her to stay at home and work in their bakery full-time. Her life in limbo, she’d spent her days at the bakery and her nights either in therapy or at home, hiding away in her bedroom.

But everything changed the night she’d hung out at Dreama’s and stumbled upon her huge collection of BDSM books.

After a long conversation with her cousin, Isabella realized she wanted to learn more about BDSM and borrowed a few of the books. Something about the lifestyle had resonated with her. Warmth permeated throughout her limbs at the idea of a man giving her structured rules to follow and at knowing there were established boundaries neither of them could cross. The sensation was so foreign, she almost didn’t recognize it.

Until she realized it was peace.

The unsettling feelings she’d harbored since puberty didn’t mean there was something wrong with her. Other people fantasized about being restrained and punished by a lover too. Of course, things like that weren’t spoken about in her large Italian-Irish Catholic family. No, she was expected to do her duty for her husband with her legs spread and her eyes shut tight without complaint. Husbands weren’t supposed to tie their wives to the bedpost and take them every way imaginable while she cried “no” and thrashed beneath him, all the while violently coming over and over.

She’d spent the following six months researching BDSM and discussing it with her therapist. At first, she hadn’t understood how she could want to be dominated or why she craved a little pain with her pleasure. Shouldn’t her past have turned her off to those yearnings?

For days, she’d walked around feeling both shame and guilt until she’d finally accepted that her sexual inclinations had little to do with what had happened to her. Yes, she was submissive. That didn’t mean she was weak or asking to be a victim.

Now, with eight weeks of her local BDSM group’s introductory class under her belt, she was ready to participate in her first real power exchange with an experienced Dominant. Dreama had assured her that she knew almost all of the Doms at the party, and with rules in place, Isabella would be perfectly safe.

In Isabella’s opinion, giving up her power to a Dom tonight would help her reclaim control over her life. Tonight, she’d take back what she’d lost and become whole again. And damn it, if it went as she suspected it would, and she got off on being dominated, then she’d accept that her sexuality was different. But it was hers, and she’d own it.

Dreama released her hold on her. “Yes, I know all the reasons you need to do this, but once you get a taste, you may develop a particular palate. Life will become a lot more complicated.”

Isabella shrugged. After tonight, her particular “palate” would have to wait four years for another taste. It wasn’t as if she would have time for a Dom/sub relationship in college, even if she did manage to find a compatible partner in the Michigan Upper Peninsula’s small college town of Edison. “I’m not worried, but thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to take that into consideration.”

Scrutinizing her, Dreama pursed her lips. “Before we go in, we need to do something about your outfit.”

Spoken like a true fashion maven. Dreama was wearing one of her own creations, a black bustier with metallic blue ribbons and an attached lace skirt. No one would ever guess from her clothes tonight that during business hours she was a buttoned-up, by-the-book parole officer.

But even with her cousin’s skills, Isabella’s outfit was hopeless.

Isabella pulled her shirt taut, showing off the logo for her family’s bakery. “Unless you have something in your car, I think I’m stuck with what I’m wearing.”

Dreama scanned her up and down, smiling. “We’ll make it work. Slide your arms out of the sleeves.” When Isabella did what she was told, Dreama folded and tucked the sleeves into the opening at her neck. “Now take off your pants.”

She raised a brow. “When I thought about attending my first play party, somehow it wasn’t you I pictured ordering me to remove my clothes.” Giggling, she shimmied out of her black pants and twirled around wearing nothing but a shirt made into a dress and white cotton boy shorts. “What do you think?”

Her cousin whistled. “You look hot.”

She laughed as she picked up her pants and tossed them into the backseat of her car before locking it. “I look like a stripper.”

“You’ll fit right in.” Dreama winked and threw her arm around Isabella’s shoulders, leading her to the front door. “Ready to play?”

Play. An innocuous word for such decadence. Was she ready to become part of it?

Smiling, she turned to her cousin. “Hell, yeah.”

***

With his dungeon gear bag slung over his shoulder, Tristan Kelley sidestepped Yvette, the blonde sub headed his way, and made a beeline for the exit. There wasn’t a sub here worth staying for, and while his dick hadn’t seen much action lately, other than some lube and his palm, nothing had raised his interest tonight.

“Leaving already?” asked the amused voice from behind him.

Only a few feet from the door, he pivoted toward his best friend and business partner, Ryder. “I’ve got some stuff to do before the move upstate.”

Debating whether he was making the right decision, he’d put off packing until the very last minute, but now that he had finalized his contract, there was no changing his mind.

“I call bullshit, Tristan. What’s the real reason?”

He scrubbed a hand over the two-day-old stubble on his cheek. “I meet the same single women at every play party, and at one time or another, each has expressed an interest in becoming my permanent sub. Why can’t I find someone who just wants a night or two of kinky fucking without expecting more?”

At twenty-eight years old, he wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship, vanilla or otherwise. Every sub he’d played with this year had thought she’d be the one to tame him, but he’d done the whole commitment deal once with disastrous results. Because of his ex-wife, Morgan, he’d lost everything that had mattered to him. There was no way he would go down that road again with a woman.

“Don’t look at me. I’m with you.” Ryder grinned. “At least I don’t have to worry about that with Maggie. Gotta love open marriages. We single men reap all the benefits while the poor married saps have to deal with all the day-to-day bullshit that goes into a relationship. Speaking of which, I’d be happy to tag team her with you. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

Ryder had an even bigger aversion to commitment than he did, never fucking the same woman twice. Someday, Ryder would meet someone who would knock him on his ass, and when that happened, Tristan was going to make sure he had a front row seat.

Tristan shook his head. “No thanks. Not in the mood.”

The ménage thing was sexy as hell, and he’d certainly participated in his fair share, but there wasn’t a woman here who could make his dick stir from its slumber tonight.

Besides, it didn’t matter to him that Maggie was in an open marriage. Maybe it was because of his past, but in his opinion, having sex with someone other than your spouse, even with their consent, was infidelity. But he didn’t judge others, just as he didn’t want someone else to judge him for his sexual preferences.

Ryder shrugged. “Suit yourself. She’s waiting for me in the master bedroom.”

“Thought you abided by the no-sex rules at your parties.”

“It’s my house. If I can’t fuck here, where am I supposed to do it?” Ryder asked, his gaze glued to Yvette, who’d yet to become a notch on his bedpost. Leave it to his best friend to line up his next conquest while having a naked woman waiting for him in bed. Compared to Ryder, Tristan was a prude. “If you change your mind and stay, the other bedroom is open and available. Just like all the subs.” He snagged a bottled water off the bar and winked at Yvette before returning his attention to Tristan.

“That’s the problem. I just want someone for one night. Someone I’m not going to see again.”

“You’ve certainly made that easier, considering you’re moving this week.”

“Not permanently. And I’ll occasionally come back to the city. Lord knows I’m not going to find anyone in the lifestyle up there.” Although with the women he’d met lately, he’d been thinking he might go vanilla for a year. It certainly couldn’t be any less fulfilling.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you agreed to the job,” Ryder said, his brows knitted into a frown. “Hey, there are kinky people everywhere. And you did have your first real experience with BDSM there.”

“Somehow, I think the chances of finding another Olivia in that one-horse town is slim to none.” Olivia had been four years older than he was and the first to show him the ropes. Literally. “You sure you’ll be okay without me?”

Ryder folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t worry about leaving me to run everything. I’ve already got phone calls into my contacts about the expansion into the southwest.”

Shit. He and Ryder had discussed that they needed testimonials for the long-term success of their products before they’d expand into other territories. “Tell me you’re joking. We don’t have the capital—” At Ryder’s smirk, Tristan realized he’d been played. “You dick.”

“Give me a little credit. I wouldn’t make any major decisions without your consent.” Ryder pounded him on the back hard enough to make his teeth chatter. “Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Tristan punched him in the arm. “There isn’t anything you wouldn’t do.”

“True that. Speaking of which, I’d better go meet Maggie before she starts without me.” On a laugh, Ryder walked off with the swagger of a man who was about to get laid.

Meanwhile, Tristan had a date with his right hand.

As he inched his way through the crowd to the front door, Dreama, a sub he’d met but never played with, came in. She gave him a little smile, careful not to make eye contact, and forged a path toward the basement. She was a sweet girl, but there had never been any sparks between them, and she was now in a collared relationship.

Seeing the opportunity to sneak out before someone else stopped him, he stepped to the door.

And there she was.

Tristan’s breath caught in his chest as if he’d been kicked in the ribs. She was a vision in pink, her long red hair flowing down her shoulders and pale skin that was just begging for him to mark. He could practically see his pink handprint on her ass and the way the flogger would make it appear as though her entire body blushed.

Along with several of the Doms in the room, his eyes tracked her as she entered the house with her gaze lowered, her blatant innocence calling to him…to all of them. She was new blood, a little lamb who had stumbled into a den of hungry wolves. It was only a matter of time before they’d be circling her, eager to get a taste.

He hesitated to leave, his curiosity roused by this angel in pink. Had she come with Dreama? Who the hell was she?

He hungered to harness that innocence for himself. To have her kneel at his feet in submission and to feel her silky skin against his rough palms. He stood rooted to his spot as she passed by him, leaving the scent of vanilla behind.

His whole body thrummed with anticipation, as if it was prepared for something momentous. The cock that had been hibernating all night suddenly blazed to life and began throbbing mercilessly against the front of his pants. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt this way. If he’d ever felt this way. He’d been numb for so long, nothing exciting him beyond a momentary thrill from domination. Now it was as if every part of him was awake.

There was no reason to stay, and yet he couldn’t make himself walk out the door. Not until he learned more about this mysterious beauty, and why the hell she affected him this way.

For a few minutes, he leaned against the wall and observed her. It was clear from the way she moved tentatively into the house that this wasn’t her typical scene. She tugged at her hair, curling it around her finger, and repetitively pulled at the hem of her odd dress, seemingly uncomfortable in it. Hell, it was so short it barely covered her ass, but that wasn’t unusual at a play party. In fact, she was still wearing more than half the women here.

Dreama stopped to put her arm around the mystery woman, whispering in her ear. She steered her over to the far side of the room, where a man in black leather waited with obvious eagerness.

Tristan crossed his arms and frowned. He didn’t know the guy well, but he knew he was relatively new to the BDSM lifestyle. She should be with someone with more experienced, especially if his gut was correct and she was as innocent as she looked.

But it wasn’t his business.

His redheaded angel shifted her weight from foot to foot as Dreama appeared to introduce the two of them before sauntering off and leaving her on her own. I should go.

By all accounts, she’d already been claimed for the night. There was no point in watching her scene with another man. Voyeurism wasn’t his kink, especially when he craved to be the one doing the dominating.

His feet moved, only rather than taking him in the direction of the exit, he found himself standing just inches away from her, angling himself so that he appeared to be admiring the garish painting on the wall as he listened in on their conversation.

“I know Dreama meant well, but I have to be honest. I don’t think I’m ready yet to play with someone who doesn’t have any experience,” the guy said, surprising Tristan with his accurate assessment.

At least now he didn’t have to worry about her sceneing with someone who didn’t know what he was doing. There were plenty of qualified Doms here tonight who would just love to get their hands on her.

His body tightened with tension. Why didn’t that make him feel any better?

Time to go before he did something stupid…like volunteer.

“Oh. Sure. I understand,” she responded, her voice as dulcet as he’d imagined.

Intending to leave, he took a step backward and began a pivot toward the door, when she crashed into his right side. So much for making a clean getaway. Not wanting to be rude, he flipped around to apologize and came face-to-face with her.

She stared up at him with clear green eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Her pale pink lips were swollen as if she’d just spent the last ten minutes with his cock between them. Jesus, were they naturally that plump? Her tongue darted out, moistening her bottom lip and leaving it glistening in an invitation to sample.

“No,” he said, his voice sounding a bit grittier than usual, “I’m sorry.” It was a lie. He couldn’t have planned it better. He coughed to clear his throat before offering his hand. “I’m Tristan.”

A cute little notch formed between her brows as she accepted, placing her palm against his. Her skin was just as soft as he’d imagined it would be.

“I’m…” She lowered her gaze and a beautiful blush crept down her cheeks, disappearing under her dress.

For a myriad of reasons, some people didn’t want to give their real names at these parties. He wasn’t sure why she was hesitant, but seeing that blush sent a jolt straight to his cock.

“Why don’t I just call you Angel?”

“Angel?” she asked breathlessly, peeking up at him through her lush lashes and smiling. “I like that.”

All thoughts of leaving the party fled. He couldn’t go before he got a taste. She was positively edible, and he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into her.

He took a step closer to her, her hard nipples brushing against his chest. He dipped his head to her neck, inhaling. God, she made his mouth water. “You smell like vanilla.”

“I’m a baker,” she said, a tremor in her voice. Her hands went to his chest, fisting his shirt in her hands as if using him to keep herself upright. “I didn’t have time to shower. Or change.”

That explained why she was wearing only that surprisingly sexy makeshift dress. It was actually a shirt. “You smell delicious.” He sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth and nibbled. She tasted as sweet as cake, and if her pussy tasted half as delicious, he’d likely go into a diabetic coma by the time the night was over.

At her quiet moan, he whispered, “And your clothes are irrelevant. In five minutes, the only thing you’ll be wearing is a smile. That is, if you consent.”

Her breathing quickened. “If I say yes, what will I be consenting to, exactly?”

Images of her naked and bound flashed through his mind. There were so many dirty things he wanted to do to her, each one ending with her climaxing harder than she ever had before. And he was just the man to make that happen.

He cupped her heart-shaped face in his hands. “Paradise.”

A sucker for a happy ending, Shelly Bell writes erotic suspense and action-filled erotic thrillers with high-emotional stakes for her alpha heroes and kick-ass heroines.
She began writing upon the insistence of her husband who dragged her to the store and bought her a laptop. When she’s not working her day job, taking care of her family, or writing, you’ll find her reading the latest smutty romance.
She is the author of the BENEDICTION and FORBIDDEN LOVERS series.

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🍀❤🍀❤ BLURB 🍀❤🍀❤

 She took a dare and fell in love. Truth would have been the smarter choice.

 After years of living under her father’s thumb, Emmeline is ready to break free. She’s abandoned her life as a New York socialite to follow her dream of becoming a kindergarten teacher in a small, wholesome town. Seeing the man that nearly broke her was absolutely not what she had hoped to find in Prescott, Montana.

 Nick hasn’t seen his Emmy in nine years, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten a thing about the woman he loves. After just one blissful night as man and wife, he gave her up, sacrificing his own happiness to keep her safe—far away from him. But the moment she walks back into his lonely life is the moment he decides never to let her go again. He won’t waste his second chance. All he has to do is win back Emmeline’s heart, keep her safe from the shadows in his past and prove to her that taking a wager on him is a sure bet.

  🍀🌼🍀🌼🍀 EXCERPT 🍀🌼🍀🌼🍀

 “I want a chance,” Nick said.

A chance for what?” I asked.

“A chance to start again.”

My mouth fell open. Was he serious? “What? Why?”

“You asked me back then if I believed in fate. I didn’t until I met you. And I’ve spent nine years thinking I’d never see your face again. But fate brought you back into my life and I’m not going to mess it up again.”

I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat and speak. “You left me.”

“Please believe I did it for a good reason. And not a day has gone by when I haven’t regretted it.” He stroked the side of my trapped hand with his thumb.

“Why?” My eyes filled with tears the second the word passed my lips.

“I promise I’ll explain. Just not tonight,” he said.

My heart sank and I sagged into the heavily padded bench seat. This was his test and he had failed miserably. I didn’t want a deflection, a promise to explain later. He could disappear tomorrow for another nine years for all I knew.

“No,” I said. “No chances. You could have found me. You could have explained. You’ve lost your chance.”

His jaw clenched and the muscle on his forehead twitched. If he actually thought a couple of sweet sentences—which lacked an apology, I might add—would have me falling all over him again, he was sorely mistaken.

“I stayed away from you because I figured you would have moved on. But you’re not happy. I can see it plain as day. Give me a chance?”

I looked to the table. “No. I want a divorce.”

“You won’t get one.”

“What?” I gasped, my eyes snapping up to his.

“No divorce. I’ll contest it.”

“Do you really think challenging me and my legal team is a good idea, Nick? You’ll be wasting both our time and money.”

“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Is this about my money? Is that what you want? Then fine. Name your price. Just let me go.”

“It’s not about your fucking money. It never was. But I’m not letting you go until I get my chance.”


#KristenAshley #theQueenIsBack #HoneySeriesBook2 #TheFarthestEdge

✮✮✮ A delicious world of erotica, BDSM with alpha-subs and their Dommes, and a gripping love story… Welcome to The Bee’s Honey! The second standalone title in New York Times bestselling author Kristen Ashley’s Honey Series, THE FARTHEST EDGE is a seductive and rich love story releasing June 6, 2017! And check out the tantalizing excerpt below! ✮✮✮
 
Go to THE FARTHEST EDGE and preorder your copy today!
 

About THE FARTHEST EDGE (Erotic Romance Releasing June 6, 2017):

Step into the Honey Club, where every sensual boundary will be tested in search of the ultimate pleasure…

Branch doesn’t exist. Living off the grid, he’s looking for a way to forget his past and the guilt that plagues him. But no woman has ever been able to bring him to the edge he craves. 

After a traumatic experience of her own, Evangeline stepped away from the decadent world of the Honey Club. But when she gets Branch’s offer—to play without boundaries or commitments—it’s too tempting for her to refuse. 

As their passion ignites, Evangeline and Branch push each other to their farthest limit, fulfilling their darkest desires while falling harder and deeper than they ever imagined.
 
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EXCERPT:

Aryas knew her.

He knew what she liked.

He knew how she played.

He knew exactly what would make her squirm in her seat.

And he knew precisely how long it had been since she’d had her kink.

“You’re throwing down the gauntlet,” she accused quietly.

“You feel like picking up the glove?” he shot back, shaking the piece of paper at her.

She stared into Aryas’s eyes.

No strings.

Anything she wanted to do to get him off.

When he was done with her, he’d vanish from her life.

Her gaze dropped to the paper.

“Be you, and we’ll make it interesting, lay five grand on that fucker, he’ll give you one go and then he’ll move on,” Aryas pushed, but it was a dare.

She looked back at him.

A dare.

Yes, he knew her.

“No reflection on you and your skills, which are sublime, my beautiful baby.” He grinned wicked grin. “Just that this guy is unbreakable. There’s no edge for him any Domme can get anywhere near to push him off and that’s what he’s looking for. Being taken to the farthest edge and shoved right the fuck over.”

Taken to the farthest edge.

Evangeline was not into that. She wasn’t into extreme. Not like many who were into that in the life.

No, the edges she coasted were exactly what Aryas wasn’t quite saying, but she read this guy couldn’t handle.

Unless he had the right Mistress to lead the way.

Damn it all, she was getting wet.

“Five grand?” she snapped.

Aryas pressed his lips together and she was too peeved to get more peeved that he did it to suppress his amusement.

He unpressed them to confirm, “Five grand. But Leenie, babe, just to get it straight, he walks away from you at first meet, we’re even. It’s only if you get a crack at him the bet is on.”

She lifted her nose at the same time she snatched the paper from his hand, declaring, “He won’t walk away.”

“He might,” Aryas said gently, and his sudden loss of humor and careful tone made her focus on him again. “Beware of that. He’s done it before. In some ways, he doesn’t give a shit about anything. In some ways, he can be frustratingly choosy.”

“If I want him, he walks away, I’ll still get him,” she announced.
 


✮✮✮ And don’t miss the first standalone title in the Honey Series… THE DEEP END! ✮✮✮

About THE DEEP END:

Enter a decadent sensual world where gorgeous alpha males are committed to fulfilling a woman’s every desire…

Olivier isn’t sure what he’s gotten himself into when he joins the Honey Club, only that a dark part of him hungers for the lifestyle offered by this exclusive club. Here, no boundary will be left untested…and one’s deepest fantasies will become an exquisite reality.

When Amélie invites Olivier to surrender, she gives the alpha submissive what he craves. Soon they both find themselves falling harder than they ever anticipated—but as their connection deepens, the truth about Olivier’s past could destroy everything…

Gripping and seductive, The Deep End is the first book in a sensational new series from bestselling author Kristen Ashley.
 
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About Kristen Ashley:

Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA and nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorise and she hadn’t taken her first breath!). Her mother said they took Kristen away, put her Mom back in her room, her mother looked out the window, and Gary was on fire (Dr. King had been assassinated four days before). Kristen’s Mom remembered thinking it was the end of the world. Quite the dramatic beginning. 
Nothing’s changed.
Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana and has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus, she’s blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her family was (is) loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. They all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).
Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up. 
And as she keeps growing, it keeps getting better.
 
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#CarianCole #CoverReveal #Tied #DevilsWolves2 #cantWait

COVER REVEALTitle: Tied

Series: Devils Wolves #2

Author: Carian Cole

Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance

Cover Design: Cover to Cover Designs

Cover Photograph: Regina Wamba

Release Date: June 26, 2017

 

BLURB

 

He was the myth and the legend of our small town. But no one knew the truth… except me.
Me

My childhood was stolen by a monster. I’ve forgotten what love feels like. What happiness feels like. What hope feels like. I am numb.
Him

He’s possibly as damaged as I am. Maybe even more. Scarred just as much on the inside as the outside. Just like me. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t smile. He hides in the woods like an animal. I should be scared of him. But I’m not. He’s the only one that has ever made me feel. And I want to make him feel, too. everything…

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Free in Kindle Unlimited


AUTHOR BIO

 

I have a passion for the bad boys, those covered in tattoos, sexy smirks, ripped jeans, fast cars, motorcycles and of course, the sweet girls that try to tame them and win their hearts. My debut series, Ashes & Embers, follows the lives of rock band members as they find, and sometimes lose, the loves of their lives.
Born and raised a Jersey girl, I now reside in beautiful New Hampshire with my husband and our multitude of furry pets and spend most of my time writing, reading, and vacuuming.
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#MayraStatham #RightMenSeries #RMS #PreOrder #STEAL #DetectiveHandsome #Standalone #HEA #NoCliffhanger #SexyRead #BookLife #SharingIsCaring 

Pre-Order STEAL! Grab your 99 cent copy today! Will be available May 25th, 2017! 

“But we can’t seem to not get ourselves into these situations.” Wasn’t that the fucking truth?
“Situations?” His lips twitched and he knew he was fighting an uphill battle not to grin like an idiot.

“Situations. You know, where I end up wrapped up in your arms and on your lap!” Oh yeah, he was straight out grinning now.

“Just saying, babe, you’re not fighting me,” he pointed out that it wasn’t only him who got them into situations. 

“I know, it’s like trying to stop gravity,”

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#CoverReveal #LookatThisCover #PreOrder #WeLoveStaceyLynn 

This marriage is strictly business . . . until the temptation gets way too real.

Fake Wife, an all-new, sexy standalone novel from Stacey Lynn, coming January 9th, 2018

Pre-Order Today!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2qlVKzH 

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Synopsis: 
This marriage is strictly business . . . until the temptation gets way too real.
Sterling: I loved my grandma, but I don’t need her money. All I care about is keeping the house—the only place that’s ever felt like home. That, and screwing over my dad, who wants to turn the property into a mall. There’s only one catch: To receive my inheritance, I have to get married within six months. Me, the guy who’s never dated a girl for more than six minutes. Now I need to find a woman I can trust. So when I’m rear-ended by a Prius, I figure it’s a sign that I’m supposed to meet gorgeous, down-to-earth Teagan Monroe.
Teagan: First I lose my job. Then I come home and find out—in the most graphic way possible . . . yeah, that way—that my boyfriend is a cheating jerk. And then I speed off and nearly kill Portland’s sexiest bachelor. Sterling Lane should be pissed. Instead, he offers me more money than I’ve ever seen in my life to marry him and live together in a mansion for two years. No sex. No feelings. Just cash—enough to make all my dreams come true. Then we go and break all our rules . . . and I realize I’m falling in love with my fake fiancé.

#TeaserTuesday #NikkiSloan #Torrid #CantWait

His smile may be razor sharp, but he’s crueler than the devil.Torrid by Nikki Sloane is #ComingSoon on June 15th!

#TeaserTuesday #DarkRomance
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Blurb:
Vasilije Markovic is the prince of the Serbian mafia and one of the most powerful men in Chicago. His smile may be razor sharp, but he’s crueler than the devil.
I’m playing a dangerous game and betting my life I’m going to win. I pretend to be his pawn. I do as he says and move where he tells me, letting him think he’s in control as I position myself for revenge.
Every turn brings us closer. His grin doesn’t seem as evil when we’re alone. Behind closed doors, I welcome his unrelenting and vicious personality. He’s confessed all his secrets, but I’m holding one back and it’s a game changer.
If I survive the board, this pawn turns into a queen. I become the most powerful player and send all the other pieces running. To get what I want, I must make sacrifices, but am I willing to draw the line at him?

#CoverReveal #Erotic #RomanticSuspense #ComingSoon #27July #LoveLoveThiscover #AuthorsWeLove 

THIS COVER FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC 😍😍😍 I ❤ THIS​ COVER❤ IT’S ON 🔥🔥🔥

Title: Steady

Series: A Pleasant Valley Novel

Author: Anna Brooks

Release Date: July 27, 2017

Genre: (Erotic) Romantic Suspense

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34314736-steady

🔥🔥🔥Blurb🔥🔥🔥

Erik Anderson is paying for his mistakes and enduring every bit of pain that comes his way. After all, if it weren’t for him, the girl who gave him more than he deserved would still be alive. Even if he were to be put out of his misery, he’d never see her again. Considering angels go to heaven and sinners go to hell, Erik’s going to burn.

Polly Madison has never had it easy. She wouldn’t even know what that looked like. Young and naive, she learned the hard way how vindictive some men can truly be. She’s fought her whole life for stability and control, both of which she refuses to give up ever again since she’s older and wiser now.

When Polly and Erik run into each other in the most clichéd way possible, it shouldn’t have meant anything.

In his arms, Polly felt safer than she ever has before.

Lost in her eyes, Erik sees a future he’d given up on.

They try to fight it. Try to deny something neither is prepared for. But when his own insecurities put her in harm’s way, Erik knows protecting Polly’s life is more important than continuing to wreck his.


🎀🎀🎀 Author Bio 🎀🎀🎀

Anna began writing when she thought the world would want to hear her sick lyrics through song. Since then, she’s realized her childhood dream wasn’t so far-fetched, just misguided. Now she writes romance with real emotions and happy endings. If Anna isn’t writing or reading, she can be found by a space heater painting her nails and drinking a ridiculous amount of Diet Dr Pepper. She also likes to hang out with her husband and two boys. If it wasn’t for them, she wouldn’t ever leave the house. Anna was born in Wisconsin but now lives in the Evergreen State.

Social Media Links:

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#ComingSoon #ALJackson #Stand

STANDA Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel

Coming May 22nd

 
“Stand is a lyrical dream of power and strength that will steal your mind, body and soul…A mind blowing 10 stars!!!” Queen Zany Book Blog 

 

From NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson comes the next seductive, unforgettable Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel…

 

Zachary Kennedy has never been known as a fighter, but he’ll never regret fighting for her…

 

I’m Zee Kennedy.

Quiet. Reserved. Predictable.

When my brother died, everyone thought I was just the good guy who stepped up to take his place in the band.

 

No one knew what I was hiding. The one thing I’ve been fighting for.

 

For seven years, I’ve never lost focus.

 

Not until one chance encounter with Alexis Kensington.

 

Now she’s become my greatest temptation.

I knew better than to touch her, but now that I’ve had a taste, I can’t get enough.

Her kiss becomes my air. Her body my salvation.

 

She needed a savior and somehow she became mine.

 

Taking her was a betrayal. But keeping her means risking everything.

One look at Alexis Kensington, and I know she’s worth the fight.

Will my past continue to keep me down or will I finally find the strength to pull myself up and Stand…

 

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My hands lingered on the keys, and she reached out and set her hand on top of mine.

 

Warmth and light.

 

It invaded my senses. Clouded my judgment.

 

My hand flipped over, palm up, and she threaded her fingers through mine. Her head angled, so soft, this girl so fucking good.

 

“What is it you want, Zee? What is it you can’t have?”

 

You.

 

Flames leapt into that space between us. Alive and dancing and inciting.

 

A siren’s call.

 

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and I was shaking as I lifted our entwined hands. I brushed my knuckles along the silky flesh of her cheek. I swore I saw the trail of pink it left behind, the simplest touch affecting this girl.

 

She released a shuddered breath. It mingled with mine.

 

Our mouths were close—too close—and our noses just touched as we hovered in that space.

 

“I want things that will only ruin me, Alexis. But you…you make me want to wish for them anyway. Make me believe there’s a chance that maybe they could belong to me.”

 

Tension tethered us, this rigid band that had me rocking in indecision, every second getting closer and closer as I fought the foolish ideas that tried to take root.

 

Giving in would only destroy me. But none of that seemed to matter when I leaned in and brushed my lips at the corner of her mouth.

 

Her fucking delicious mouth.

 

Because fuck. I just needed a taste. Something to take with me. Something to tuck away, even when doing it felt like some kind of brutal tease.

 

Alexis gasped at the contact. I edged back the barest fraction, and she was panting these tiny breaths.

 

Breaths I was breathing.

 

Her eyes locked on mine. Hungry and pleading. Brimming with belief and hope.

 

I ran my thumb over the corner of her mouth where my lips had just been. “You are so beautiful. I’ve never met a girl quite like you.”

 

Something so genuine took hold of her expression. “I hardly know you…and somehow you make me feel like I am. Like when you look at me…you see the person I always hoped I’d become.”

 

Everything stilled at her words.

 

At her confession.

 

Because that’s what I wanted.

 

For this amazing girl to know the way I saw her. That in her space, I felt something different from all the bullshit I’d dealt with for all my life.

 

I felt like someone different. Someone better. Like the person I’d once hoped I’d become.

I clutched her stunning face in my hands, searching for resolve. For that dedication that right then somehow felt out of reach.

 

“Zee,” she whispered.

 

That was all it took for that band to snap.

 

My hands drove into her hair. And my mouth? My mouth was devouring hers.

 

Frenzied in its demand. Pleading the same way as her eyes had been pleading with me. Saying all the things I couldn’t ever say.

 

Our tongues tangled, and my spirit coiled. Heat spread in a flashfire of need. Lust rose in the knitted air, like this intangible greed we both were grappling for, searching for the fastest way to get to the peak.

 

Our hands searched and clawed and explored. We were a mess of limbs as we struggled to get closer to each other where we sat side by side on the bench.

 

“Zachary…Zachary,” she whimpered, grasping me by the back of the head. She crawled forward so she could straddle me.

 

Motherfuck.

 

My hands sank into her hips, and she edged up and pressed those gorgeous tits against the wild beat thundering in my chest. A groan rumbled out from somewhere in my soul.

She felt so perfect. So good.

 

I wanted to touch her. Explore her. Claim her.

 

My dick raged against its confines, all that delicious heat at the apex of her thighs grinding against my jean-covered cock.

 

It’d been too long. Too damned long. I was goin’ out of my mind.

 

GIVEAWAY

Grand Prize: $25 Amazon Gift Card

 

 http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/ZTQyZDZiNDFkNzRhMjJmZWYzMGFkNDU0Yzg0N2UwOjg1/?

 

A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.

Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, as well as the newest BLEEDING STARS novels. Watch for the next installment STAND, coming Spring 2017.

If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.

 

Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter http://smarturl.it/NewsFromALJackson or text “aljackson” to 24587 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

 

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Excerpt One (Includes language and mild sexual content):

 

My hands lingered on the keys, and she reached out and set her hand on top of mine.

Warmth and light.

It invaded my senses. Clouded my judgment.

My hand flipped over, palm up, and she threaded her fingers through mine. Her head angled, so soft, this girl so fucking good.

“What is it you want, Zee? What is it you can’t have?”

You.

Flames leapt into that space between us. Alive and dancing and inciting.

A siren’s call.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and I was shaking as I lifted our entwined hands. I brushed my knuckles along the silky flesh of her cheek. I swore I saw the trail of pink it left behind, the simplest touch affecting this girl.

She released a shuddered breath. It mingled with mine.

Our mouths were close—too close—and our noses just touched as we hovered in that space.

“I want things that will only ruin me, Alexis. But you…you make me want to wish for them anyway. Make me believe there’s a chance that maybe they could belong to me.”

Tension tethered us, this rigid band that had me rocking in indecision, every second getting closer and closer as I fought the foolish ideas that tried to take root.

Giving in would only destroy me. But none of that seemed to matter when I leaned in and brushed my lips at the corner of her mouth.

Her fucking delicious mouth.

Because fuck. I just needed a taste. Something to take with me. Something to tuck away, even when doing it felt like some kind of brutal tease.

Alexis gasped at the contact. I edged back the barest fraction, and she was panting these tiny breaths.

Breaths I was breathing.

Her eyes locked on mine. Hungry and pleading. Brimming with belief and hope.

I ran my thumb over the corner of her mouth where my lips had just been. “You are so beautiful. I’ve never met a girl quite like you.”

Something so genuine took hold of her expression. “I hardly know you…and somehow you make me feel like I am. Like when you look at me…you see the person I always hoped I’d become.”

Everything stilled at her words.

At her confession.

Because that’s what I wanted.

For this amazing girl to know the way I saw her. That in her space, I felt something different from all the bullshit I’d dealt with for all my life.

I felt like someone different. Someone better. Like the person I’d once hoped I’d become.

I clutched her stunning face in my hands, searching for resolve. For that dedication that right then somehow felt out of reach.

“Zee,” she whispered.

That was all it took for that band to snap.

My hands drove into her hair. And my mouth? My mouth was devouring hers.

Frenzied in its demand. Pleading the same way as her eyes had been pleading with me. Saying all the things I couldn’t ever say.

Our tongues tangled, and my spirit coiled. Heat spread in a flashfire of need. Lust rose in the knitted air, like this intangible greed we both were grappling for, searching for the fastest way to get to the peak.

Our hands searched and clawed and explored. We were a mess of limbs as we struggled to get closer to each other where we sat side by side on the bench.

“Zachary…Zachary,” she whimpered, grasping me by the back of the head. She crawled forward so she could straddle me.

Motherfuck.

My hands sank into her hips, and she edged up and pressed those gorgeous tits against the wild beat thundering in my chest. A groan rumbled out from somewhere in my soul.

She felt so perfect. So good.

I wanted to touch her. Explore her. Claim her.

My dick raged against its confines, all that delicious heat at the apex of her thighs grinding against my jean-covered cock.

It’d been too long. Too damned long. I was goin’ out of my mind.

 

 

Excerpt 2 (Edited for language):

I froze, awareness shivering through the air, chills prickling across my flesh. I swore I felt my axis tilt, bending and bending and bending until my direction had been altered.

Sucking in a breath, I peeked over my shoulder. My heart trembled and shook.

Staring back at me were brilliant brown eyes that raged and stormed and promised they were getting ready to wreak a new kind of havoc on my life.

On the opposite side of the street, he pushed from the wall where he’d been watching. He didn’t hesitate. He came straight for me. His gaze only broke from mine to dart back and forth at the small street before he began to cross it in long, purposed strides.

A frenzy lit. A quiver of attraction that rocked and provoked.

I was fixed to the spot, gaze enraptured as I watched the intricate ink dance and play over the corded muscles that bunched and flexed in his thick arms. So much strength in his body and so much beauty in his being.

I swore he stole the air when he stopped two feet away. Hands fisted, he glowered over me.

I stumbled my way through the choppy words. “What…what are you doing here?”

His were hard. “Think I could ask you the same question.”

I shook myself out of the stupor. “Are you following me?”

It came off as an accusation that was somehow half-pleased and half-offended.

Standing in front of me was a man who was little more than a stranger, who had been tracking me, and I couldn’t stop the excitement that thrilled in my bones. I couldn’t stop the comfort that washed through me at his concern.

But I knew it was even more than that.

Over the last three weeks, I’d spent too much time wondering if I’d ever see this beautiful boy again.

“Maybe.” Frustration laced his tone. At him or me, I couldn’t tell.

I blinked at him, tongue-tied, my confusion and surprise tumbling out. “That’s just…weird.”

God. I was brilliant.

But what was I supposed to say? This boy caught me unaware at every turn, always at the advantage.

He almost laughed, this sound that was exasperated and filled with disbelief. “Weird?”

I bit at my lip, fighting a smile that really shouldn’t have been there. But he was here, again finding me when I felt helpless and vulnerable.

I nodded emphatically, clutching the lightness that whispered through the air. “That’s right. Weird.”

With his index finger, he scratched at the back of his head. He chuckled low, this sound that rumbled through my senses and warmed my belly. “I’m sure there are plenty of other things we could call this other than weird, don’t you think? This is just…”

I frowned when he trailed off and took a step in his direction. “What?”

Helplessly, he looked back at me. “I can’t do this, Alexis. I’ve got a sh*t show getting ready to blow up in my life, and the only thing I can think about right now is you. Can’t go to sleep at night because I’m terrified you might be sneaking off and doing something that’s going to land you in trouble again. That I might not be there to save you next time. And when I do finally nod off? I wake up in the morning panicked, praying you’re okay and having no way to make sure.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. My gaze followed, entranced by the thick bob of his throat as he swallowed.

“I don’t have the first clue what you’ve done to me, but I’m not sure I can handle whatever it is I’m feeling.”