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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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BAM: http://bit.ly/2lLMRxK
 
 


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.
 
WEBSITE * FACEBOOK * TWITTER * NEWSLETTER * GOODREADS * PINTEREST * INSTAGRAM

#Paranormal #BigCats #Alpha #NewRelease #Excerpt #SarahO’Rourke

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🐈 Scratch Fever by Sarah O’Rourke🐈

Buy Links:
Amazon.com: http://amzn.to/2pVB6V3
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0722TM4PG
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0722TM4PG
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0722TM4PG

Cat Teaser Never Loose-1

🔥🔥🔥Synopsis🔥🔥🔥
Beau LaForte felt an internal pull to the beautiful, innocent Alexa Davidson. Oh, this was not the typical boy-meets-girl story. This was anything but typical. You see, Beau was a shifter – a panther – and the alpha of the pack. What his panther wanted, his panther got. And together, they wanted Alexa.
But when Alexa finds the pretty kitty lolling on her bed, she is determined to get him out — before he sheds more on her brand new sheets! Can Beau convince Alexa that she is his mate for life?
Instalove. Shifter romantic comedy. 23K words. Novella.

Cat Teaser No Other-2

⚡⚡⚡Excerpt⚡⚡⚡
Taking a deep breath, Alexa drew herself up to her full height and steeled herself for a battle. Although, since she stood just an inch over five feet, she knew her intimidation factor was virtually non-existent, but she had to start somewhere. It was time for her to quit stewing over decisions she could no longer change and instead concentrate on the concrete facts regarding her current situation.
And the fact was there was a flipping cat in her bed! A gigantic feline fiend apparently intent on wrecking what was left of her birthday. Because, yes, there was a cat in her bed, and it was stinkin’ immense. Since when did ordinary cats – even if they were frickin’ panthers – get that big?
The simple answer was they didn’t. EVER.
And an even better question was – Why wasn’t she scared of it?
God knew, it had fangs that promised grim death to anyone that provoked it. Oddly enough, though, she felt not a single ounce of fear or distress standing in front of it. It was like she instinctively knew this animal would never cause her a single second of harm. In fact, the longer she looked into its eyes that glowed in the darkened room, the more convinced she was that the purring beast would do whatever was necessary to protect her. It was like she and the animal had some kind of weird, unspoken connection. It was a bond that she didn’t want and had never asked to share, but one that she couldn’t deny and wouldn’t change even if she could.
How fucked up was that? Maybe this was some kind of voodoo curse one of her disgruntled customers had wished on her when she hadn’t served their coffee quickly enough. Personally, she thought that might be a bit of overkill, but caffeine addicts were serious in Louisiana, and one did not play around when it came to providing quality coffee in the bayou.
“Why couldn’t you be a dog? I could have handled this if you were a dog,” she muttered as she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and hugged herself. “Especially since I’ve always been a puppy person,” she continued to babble as she shut her eyes and continued chafing her hands up and down her arms as a bizarre electrical charge seemed to ripple through the air inside the tiny bedroom.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say that you are now very much a cat person. Or, at least this cat’s person,” a deep, sexy voice rumbled from the bed. “More specifically, you’re this panther’s person.”
Alexa’s eyes popped open as that rich, deep voice seemed to vibrate through her being. Screaming as she spotted an extremely real — and from what she could tell (even in the darkness) was an oh, so very naked man in her bed — she quickly lunged for the nearest makeshift weapon she could find. Sadly for her, the closest missile she could find was only her television remote, and that merely bounced off her interloper’s sculpted chest.
“Ouch!” her prowler growled, batting away the remote as she continued to screech, blindly searching for another weapon in the mostly dark bedroom. “Alexa, chère, settle down!”
Wait a second? Why did her trespasser know her name? And why did that southern drawl sound so familiar? Making a half-turn on her not-so-steady feet, Alexa fumbled for the light switch on the wall, relieved when her searching fingers found what they were looking for. Flicking the switch, she squinted as her unfocused eyes tried to adjust when the room was suddenly flooded with bright, artificial light. Finally able to see a few seconds later, she couldn’t help emitting a small squawk as she saw the nude man lounging in the center of her bed.

Cat Scratch WP Banner-1

Social Media Links
Website: http://www.sarahorourke.info
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sarah.orourke.507
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/SarahORourke99
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/SarahORourke
Email: sarahorourkebooks@gmail.com

🍀🍀🍀About the Authors🍀🍀🍀
Sarah O’Rourke is actually TWO besties who live three states apart and write at all hours of the day and night! Born and raised in the Southern United States, they are overly attached to their one-click accounts, can’t make it through the day without copious doses of caffeine, and spend way too much time on the phone with each other.
Between them, they have four children and twenty-four years of marriage. They hate empty chocolate wrappers and writer’s block, love to talk to readers…and oh, by the way, they write about strong, kick-ass women and hot alpha heroes!
Contact Sarah today….she loves to chat!

#NewRelease #ReleaseDayBlitz #BuyLinks #AuthorsweLove #HotAlphaCowBoys

Cowboy holding saddle silhouette

LOST RIDER
By Harper Sloan
Release Day: APRIL 25, 2017

In Lost Rider, the first Western romance in New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Harper Sloan’s Coming Home series, an injured rodeo star encounters an old flame but will she be just what he needs to get back in the saddle?

Maverick Austin Davis is forced to return home after a ten-year career as a rodeo star. After one too many head injuries, he’s off the circuit and in the horse farming business, something he’s never taken much of a shine to, but now that it’s his late father’s legacy, familial duty calls. How will Maverick find his way after the only dream he ever had for himself is over?

Enter Leighton Elizabeth James, an ugly duckling turned beauty from Maverick’s childhood—his younger sister’s best friend, to be exact, and someone whose heart he stomped all over when she confessed her crush to him ten years back. Now Leighton is back in Maverick’s life, no longer the insecure, love-stricken teen—and Maverick can’t help but take notice. Sparks fly between them, but will Leighton be able to open her heart to the one man who broke it all those years ago?

Written in the vein of Diana Palmer and Lindsay McKenna, this Texas-set series is filled with sizzle, heart, and plenty of cowboys!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2any9mP
Amazon US paperback : http://amzn.to/2axuDJJ
Audible : http://amzn.to/2n42sXk
Amazon UK : http://amzn.to/2i6RFMB
Amazon AU : http://amzn.to/2hnTgtm
Amazon CA : http://amzn.to/2awrTcp
BN : http://bit.ly/2awrt5z
Kobo : http://bit.ly/2akjNbA
iBooks : https://itun.es/us/fJArdb.l
BAM : http://bit.ly/2avBGBz
Google : http://bit.ly/2aEGCDg


💛💛💛💛EXCERPT💛💛💛💛
I should tell Quinn and Clay that he’s here. But one look at him and it’s like the last ten years have never passed and I’m back at the bonfire, the awkward high schooler uncomfortable in her own skin. Marching away from him in the woods. It was the last time I saw him. How is it possible that he can affect me this much after all this time?
He hasn’t noticed me, not with his head bowed, so I quickly turn around and focus on Pastor John as he finishes up his prayer. Him being here means nothing. I should be happy that I remember the pain from that night so well, it will make keeping my walls up around him so much easier.
“On behalf of the Davis family, I want to thank everyone for coming today. At this time, the family has asked for some time alone as they say their good-byes. They wanted me to remind everyone that the PieHole will be opening up for a few hours tonight starting at five for anyone that wishes to join them.”
I keep my arm around Quinn, not looking back to where I saw Maverick. I can hear the church slowly emptying and I feel a frown pull at my lips. I had hoped that when everyone started to leave that he would have come up front to be with his family, but so far, the pew we’re in is still empty save for the three of us. We sit and wait for everyone to leave, something that Clay had asked Pastor John to make arrangements for in place of the customary recessional, knowing that no one in this town would really mean a word of it anyway. Plus, I know Quinn is having a hard time. Regardless of the fact that she wasn’t the closest with her father, she was really counting on this—Maverick home. She’s still shaking in my arms, but when I look over at Clay I realize his silence isn’t because of the heaviness of Buford’s death, but instead anger over his brother’s absence that has started to build to a boil. I fear that he’s seconds away from tipping over the edge.
I stand when Clay and Quinn do, but hang back at the edge of the row we had been sitting in as they meet Pastor John and gather their father’s ashes. I can’t wait to get out of these heels. If it would have been acceptable to wear my boots, I would have, but Quinn would have killed me. As it is, I feel like I can’t take a deep breath with how tight my dress is against my chest. I never wear tight shirts. I haven’t since my boobs became beasts of their own right. I’m too busy fiddling with the straps of my dress, trying desperately to get some of the pressure against my chest to ease up so I could take a deep breath, when I heard Quinn gasp.
“Mav!” Next thing I know she’s running past where I’m standing, her black hair streaming in the air behind her as she speeds forward right into her brother’s arms. Clay moves to stand next to me and I look up to meet his green eyes, the questions he isn’t vocalizing dancing in their emerald depths. He’s not stupid and I’m doing a crappy job at hiding the memories haunting me right now. He gives me a small smile, shifting his hold on the urn to wrap his free arm around me and pulls me into a strong hold.
“You’re shakin’,” he says against my temple and I just nod.
“I’m good, Clay. Go see your brother.”
“I’m fine right where I am, sugar.”
I keep my eyes to the ground, focusing on his worn boots instead of looking up, hating myself for making this moment about me when I should be focused on them. Like it or not, I can’t fight the feelings that being near him bring me. I’m that stupid, naive sixteen-year-old all over again. “Let’s get out of here,” he says after a few silent seconds. I look up and give him a smile, hoping that it looks a hell of a lot braver than I feel. Inside I feel like I might puke.
“You think I could have a second with my family?”
My head shoots up at the coldness I hadn’t anticipated in Maverick’s voice. He’s not focused on me, though, instead looking at his brother with a hard expression and one brow raised upward.
“Mav!” Quinn gasps and he moves his attention from his brother to her.
“Sorry, Quinn, but I’m thinkin’ that Clay’s lady friend would understand that this should be a moment for our family and give us time alone.”
“I’ll just—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, sugar,” Clay all but spits through clenched teeth and drops his arm to take a step forward. “You’ve got something to say, Mav, then say it.”
“Nothing to say, Clayton, I just think it would be nice for your girlfriend to give us some space.”
“My girlfriend,” he parrots sarcastically, his deep voice vibrating in anger.
“Mav.” Quinn attempts to butt in, but stops when Maverick leaves her side and turns to stalk out of the church. I should find it comical that he obviously didn’t recognize me, or hell, maybe he did and he’s just picking up where he left off ten years ago in the middle of the dark woods. I take a deep breath. “It’s okay. He’s right. Y’all need some time as a family. I’ll head over to the PieHole and start settin’ up for tonight.”
Quinn brushes a tear from her cheek and just shakes her head. I look at Clay to see him staring in the direction that his brother just left.
“You’re family,” he finally says, not looking in my direction.
“Clay, really, it’s okay. It’s been a long time since y’all were back together and I don’t need to be there for that reunion. It sucks that it takes all of this to finally bring him home, but he’s here and y’all need to make up for a lot of time lost.”
“Shut up, Leighton.”
“Don’t, Clay.”
“Don’t what? You’ve got every right to be here. You’re just as much a part of our family as he is. Hell, maybe even more so than he is at this point. So just shut up, come with us, and ignore him.”
I shake my head, the fight instantly leaving my sails, knowing I would be arguing until the end of time if I
pressed this issue.
“I can’t believe he doesn’t even recognize you,” Quinn whispers.

14 unbreakable

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn’t writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand.
Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

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#6Star #NewRelease #ThisBookWasAmazing # BookHangover #AuthorsweLove #HeartbreakinglyAmazing #CharactersYouFallInLoveWith #ArcReview

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💝💝💝 BLURB 💝💝💝

Title: Love Me

SeriesA Pleasant Valley Novel

Author: Anna Brooks

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release: April 25, 2017

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31291808-love-me?

Blurb:

Vaughn Morris survives on denial and hope. He spends his days permanently marking other’s skin and his nights trying to forget the scars embedded in his soul. No longer the defenseless teenager he used to be, he returns to his home town, never expecting to fall for a woman who is just as complicated as he is.

Rayne Garner hasn’t truly lived in years. When she was too young to know better, she made a promise to a man who didn’t deserve her loyalty. Nobody has made her question that decision, until Vaughn—a man whose pain is well hidden beneath his cocky exterior and dark, mysterious eyes. But in order to heal him, Rayne must face the brutal reality she’s been trying to deny.

A friendship they didn’t need turns into a love neither thought they wanted. Rayne and Vaughn not only have to fight for each other, they must survive threats from a past they’re both trying to overcome.

PreOrder/Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://a.co/20kdB9n

Amazon UK: http://amzn.eu/4DqSD2M

Amazon CA: http://a.co/dqLabvK

Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2oFjFZv

iBooks: http://apple.co/2ombSfZ

B&N: http://bit.ly/2pp9Ct1

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2nbfjsI

Love Me

💞💞 Excerpt 💞💞

“Vaughn, look . . .” I whisper.

“I am. And I really like what I see.”

I knew earlier that he was trouble, but now, with his hands on me and the thoughts I’m having that I know I shouldn’t be . . . I’ve gotta squash this before anything starts. “Listen, I—”

His hair moves freely as he shakes his head. “Don’t blow me off. I know that’s what you’re about to do. Don’t do it.”

“I’m a lesbian,” I blurt out. “I’m flattered, but sorry.” I’ve rehearsed the line so many times I almost believe it myself. Wish I believed it sometimes.

He laughs. It catches me so off guard that I find my jaw open, and I’m staring at the way laughter changes the hard angles of his face to soft ones that make him less intimidating and more beautiful.

“Why are you laughing? You’re the one in a gay bar.”

“I’m here for Kenny and Brad. I’m not gay, darlin’, and if you think that, then I gotta step up my game.”

“I’m not interested in playing games.” I cross my arms defensively. “Besides, I didn’t say that you were gay. I said I was a lesbian.”

He laughs again. Once he catches his breath, he takes another shot. “The way you were moving your hips. Grindin’ on my cock . . . Damn, baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock. You’re not a lesbian.”

“Yes. I am.” This is what I tell people when I get hit on, because the truth is too hard to bear. Sometimes, I just don’t want the reminder that I won’t have anything else.

“You’re not a lesbian.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “Caught me. I’m asexual.”

He huffs. “No, you’re not.”

“Am too.”

“Are not.”

“Am too!” I screech.

He extends his arm and runs a finger around my knee and up to the hem of my very short dress. I try to pretend he doesn’t affect me, but my breath hitches in my throat, and my cheeks heat up. When he traces just beneath the hemline, I shiver. Dammit. Asshole.

“No. You’re not.” He smirks and squeezes my thigh before letting go.

Love, Me Teaser 3.jpg

💝💜💝 Review By TashaM 💝💜💝

Anna Brooks is a Master at writing. She always gives the most Beautifully Written Stories. This is another 6 Star read for me.

This book damn but This book is gonna be stuck in my mind for awhile, which is no surprise really I’m always in a funk when it comes to Anna’s books. There is no way I can read a new book. Yes Ladies she is that damn good…..

This book Grabs you from page one. Yes its Insta- love but so so different. This is such a beautiful Insta-love. A different Kinda level of insta-love…. but Your heart breaks for these two, just shatters for them both…. There are times I had my tears roll down my face. I had to hold my sob in. And when I couldn’t it escaped… That’s how fantastic this story is. The things Rayne and Vaughn have been through in theirs pasts is absolutely soul crushing. And I mean Soul. Crushing. They were so young and have had to witness their own kind of hell and wash their own life lessons.

But that all ends when they meet each. They Click instantly. They have this unexplainable chemistry. Such powerful chemistry that it actually forces them to heal, to move forward and most importantly Love again. These two are tortured by their pasts that it’s absolutely hard but as always Faith cannot be derailed and love will always Conquer All.

This story does have alot of angst, but angst that was so necessary . It was what kept you engrossed in this story. Angst that was so great, it was actually nail biting. Really Ladies even the Angst was phenomenal in this story. The pace and flow of this was so well planned and thought of that the angst is never prolonged or over done.

Even with the “Oh Hell No” Twists and ” OMFG” angsty moments there was Beautiful dialogue and Steamy Hot sex scenes Hot Really Hot….

I loved their friends and family and can’t wait to see who gets the next book. And if what I hear is right it maybe Polly and that’s is just damn Awesome.

Enjoy ladies!!!!

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💢💢💢 About The Author 💢💢💢

Love Me Package

Title: Love Me

Series: A Pleasant Valley Novel

Author: Anna Brooks

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release: April 25, 2017

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31291808-love-me?

Blurb:

Vaughn Morris survives on denial and hope. He spends his days permanently marking other’s skin and his nights trying to forget the scars embedded in his soul. No longer the defenseless teenager he used to be, he returns to his home town, never expecting to fall for a woman who is just as complicated as he is.

Rayne Garner hasn’t truly lived in years. When she was too young to know better, she made a promise to a man who didn’t deserve her loyalty. Nobody has made her question that decision, until Vaughn—a man whose pain is well hidden beneath his cocky exterior and dark, mysterious eyes. But in order to heal him, Rayne must face the brutal reality she’s been trying to deny.

A friendship they didn’t need turns into a love neither thought they wanted. Rayne and Vaughn not only have to fight for each other, they must survive threats from a past they’re both trying to overcome.

PreOrder/Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://a.co/20kdB9n

Amazon UK: http://amzn.eu/4DqSD2M

Amazon CA: http://a.co/dqLabvK

Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2oFjFZv

iBooks: http://apple.co/2ombSfZ

B&N: http://bit.ly/2pp9Ct1

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2nbfjsI

Teasers: attached

Excerpt:

“Vaughn, look . . .” I whisper.

“I am. And I really like what I see.”

I knew earlier that he was trouble, but now, with his hands on me and the thoughts I’m having that I know I shouldn’t be . . . I’ve gotta squash this before anything starts. “Listen, I—”

His hair moves freely as he shakes his head. “Don’t blow me off. I know that’s what you’re about to do. Don’t do it.”

“I’m a lesbian,” I blurt out. “I’m flattered, but sorry.” I’ve rehearsed the line so many times I almost believe it myself. Wish I believed it sometimes.

He laughs. It catches me so off guard that I find my jaw open, and I’m staring at the way laughter changes the hard angles of his face to soft ones that make him less intimidating and more beautiful.

“Why are you laughing? You’re the one in a gay bar.”

“I’m here for Kenny and Brad. I’m not gay, darlin’, and if you think that, then I gotta step up my game.”

“I’m not interested in playing games.” I cross my arms defensively. “Besides, I didn’t say that you were gay. I said I was a lesbian.”

He laughs again. Once he catches his breath, he takes another shot. “The way you were moving your hips. Grindin’ on my cock . . . Damn, baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock. You’re not a lesbian.”

“Yes. I am.” This is what I tell people when I get hit on, because the truth is too hard to bear. Sometimes, I just don’t want the reminder that I won’t have anything else.

“You’re not a lesbian.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “Caught me. I’m asexual.”

He huffs. “No, you’re not.”

“Am too.”

“Are not.”

“Am too!” I screech.

He extends his arm and runs a finger around my knee and up to the hem of my very short dress. I try to pretend he doesn’t affect me, but my breath hitches in my throat, and my cheeks heat up. When he traces just beneath the hemline, I shiver. Dammit. Asshole.

“No. You’re not.” He smirks and squeezes my thigh before letting go.

Author Bio (Picture attached):

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:

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

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

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/annabrooksauth

Twitter: https://twitter.com/annabrooksauth

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Anna-Brooks/e/B00P5WPLFC

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9827166.Anna_Brooks

#comingsoon #ExcerptReveal #PreppyIsBack #Authorswelove #BowTieisback

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Preppy, Part Three: The Life and Death of Samuel Clearwater by T.M. Frazier is coming April 26th!!!

 Preppy, Part Three: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater by T.M. Frazier

Release Date: April 26th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
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 🔥🔥🔥The bowtie is BACK🔥🔥🔥

 Dre was just a beautiful stranger when  Preppy saved her the first time around. Now, he has to save her again, but she’s no longer some stranger, she’s family, and he has no idea who or what he’s up against.

 What he does know is that putting his family back together is the only acceptable outcome.

 Preppy’s to-do list?

SAVE FAMILY. SEEK REVENGE. 

 He’s alive…and he’s out for BLOOD.

 Preppy Part Three is the third book and conclusion of Preppy and Dre’s story. It’s also the 7th book in the King Series, which should be read in order starting with KING & TYRANT.

💀💣💀💣💀Excerpt💀💣💀💣💀

Preppy placed his other hand behind my neck, pulling me closer. “Dre, when I look at you, when I touch you. I love you so much it fucking HURTS,” he said against my neck, the vibration of his words had my nipples standing at firm attention all over again. 

“I don’t want you to hurt,” I said, although I knew exactly what he meant because I felt the same. I had so much love for him it made my chest swell to the point where I thought I might break inside. Preppy looked down between us to where his swollen cock bobbed with his every move. The head thick and purple, throbbing and glistening at the tip, dripping with his own need. “No, Doc, it hurts, but it’s the best kind of pain.” Preppy’s eyes were half-lidded. A devilish smirk played on his lips. “Look, it hurts so bad even my cock is crying.” 

I returned his smile, looking up at him through my lashes. I licked my lips. Preppy groaned, placing his hands on both sides of my head, running his fingers through my hair. I pushed him to his back and crawled down his body, giving a quick lick to the tip of his cock, which pulsed in response. I watched his expression darken as he watched me kiss and lick my way around his thick shaft. “Fuck,” he cursed. “What are you doing to me, woman?” 

“If your cock’s crying, then I’m licking the tears away,” I said, taking the head into my mouth and swirling my tongue around to taste his salty pre-cum. I moaned, the sound shot straight between my legs. 

Preppy dug his hands into my hair deeper, pulling, holding me with more force. His abs flexed as I took more and more of him into my mouth, lightly sucking as I circled my lips around the soft skin of his extremely hard shaft.

I pulled back and softly blew on his wet cock. All the muscles in his arms tensed. His hips bucked into the air. His mouth fell open as he gazed down at me with a lust filled expression I know mirrored my own. “Any better?” I asked, wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft. 

Preppy shook his head. “No, not better. I think it’s fucking worse,” he ground out, looking as if he were in pain. 

“How so?” I asked, stroking him from root to tip with a slight twist at the top. 

Preppy hissed. “Because I want to fuck you again, but now I also don’t ever want my cock to be anywhere besides that beautiful mouth ever again. Those fucking red lips. Jesus fucking Christ, Doc. I thought I’d already died, but you’re the one killing me.” 

“You mean like this?” I asked, taking him into my mouth again. Further this time. Preppy had a monster cock and although I used to think he was joking when he said that it was the honest truth. There was no way I’d be able to take all of him but I did the best I could, taking him until the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat. Giving him all I could because I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel. 

“Holy fucking, shit,” Preppy groaned, holding onto the ground for support with one hand, the other still fisted in my hair. The next few sentences that came out of his mouth were incoherent because I began to slide him out and then back again, using my hand on the part of his shaft that my mouth couldn’t reach. Over and over again I stroked and sucked him with my tongue, squeezing him with my lips and hollowing out my cheeks so my mouth was wrapped as tightly around him as possible. 

I used my other hand to reach around him and squeeze his ass cheek, pulling him in closer, holding him to me. I released him and pulled him back again, letting him know it was okay to move. He nodded, and bit his bottom lip, watching as he began to thrust his hips upward into my mouth then slowly pulling back out, groaning as he repeated the motion. 

Over and over again he thrust forward and pulled back. I braced myself with my other hand on his ass and again he held my head with both hands as he fucked my mouth. Harder and harder until tears were flowing down my cheeks. I watched as the cords in his neck strained with his every movement. I felt his ass muscles tense and watched as his entire body tightened and his cock hardened in my mouth before spurts of warmth shot from him, deep into my throat. Preppy threw his head back and in the sexiest most animalistic roar he came and came and came until I thought I couldn’t swallow one more drop of his salty release. 

He pulled out of me and collapsed onto the floor without pulling his pants back up. He pulled me down with him and wrapped his arms around my back. “I think I just broke a promise to you,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. Our chests heaving together in unison. 

“What promise?” I asked, confused. 

He tucked me in closer, laying a palm over my breast. “The one where I said I wouldn’t die again,” he chuckled. “‘Cause, Doc, I’m pretty sure you just fucking killed me.”

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 Preppy Part One

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 Preppy Part Two

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🌼💜🌼💜 About The Author 🌼💜🌼

T.M.Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and her young daughter.

When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance.

Well…it has a beach in it!

Her latest works include her USA TODAY BESTSELLING KING SERIES and All the Rage. 

Connect with the Author: 

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

Twitter: @TM_Frazier

Stay up to date with T.M. by signing up for her newsletter today:

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#comingsoon #preorder #teaser #Synopsis #authorswelove #

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Title: Love Me

SeriesA Pleasant Valley Novel

Author: Anna Brooks

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release: April 25, 2017

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31291808-love-me?

 

Blurb:

Vaughn Morris survives on denial and hope. He spends his days permanently marking other’s skin and his nights trying to forget the scars imbedded in his soul. When he returns back home desperately seeking approval from the mother who left him for dead, the last thing he expects to do is fall in love with a woman who is just as closed off as he is.

 

Rayne Garner hasn’t truly lived in years. She made a promise to her high school sweetheart, and she refuses to break it. Nobody has made her question her loyalty until Vaughn forces her to face reality, no matter how brutal it may be.

 

As tempers clash and ugly truths are revealed, a friendship they didn’t need turns into a love neither thought they wanted. But Rayne and Vaughn not only have to fight for each other, they must survive threats from a past they’re both trying to move on from.

 

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💜❤💜❤ Excerpt ❤💜❤💜

“Vaughn, look . . .” I whisper.

“I am. And I really like what I see.”

I knew earlier that he was trouble, but now, with his hands on me and the thoughts I’m having that I know I shouldn’t be . . . I’ve gotta squash this before anything starts. “Listen, I—”

His hair moves freely as he shakes his head. “Don’t blow me off. I know that’s what you’re about to do. Don’t do it.”

“I’m a lesbian,” I blurt out. “I’m flattered, but sorry.” I’ve rehearsed the line so many times I almost believe it myself. Wish I believed it sometimes.

He laughs. It catches me so off guard that I find my jaw open, and I’m staring at the way laughter changes the hard angles of his face to soft ones that make him less intimidating and more beautiful.

“Why are you laughing? You’re the one in a gay bar.”

“I’m here for Kenny and Brad. I’m not gay, darlin’, and if you think that, then I gotta step up my game.”

“I’m not interested in playing games.” I cross my arms defensively. “Besides, I didn’t say that you were gay. I said I was a lesbian.”

He laughs again. Once he catches his breath, he takes another shot. “The way you were moving your hips. Grindin’ on my cock . . . Damn, baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock. You’re not a lesbian.”

“Yes. I am.” This is what I tell people when I get hit on, because the truth is too hard to bear. Sometimes, I just don’t want the reminder that I won’t have anything else.

“You’re not a lesbian.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “Caught me. I’m asexual.”

He huffs. “No, you’re not.”

“Am too.”

“Are not.”

“Am too!” I screech.

He extends his arm and runs a finger around my knee and up to the hem of my very short dress. I try to pretend he doesn’t affect me, but my breath hitches in my throat, and my cheeks heat up. When he traces just beneath the hemline, I shiver. Dammit. Asshole.

“No. You’re not.” He smirks and squeezes my thigh before letting go.

💠💠💠💠 About the Author 💠💠💠💠

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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💥💥💥 Giveaway💥💥💥

Direct Link:

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😍😍😍 Ripple Effect 😍😍😍

Amazon: hyperurl.co/752k9k

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💥💥💥 Synopsis 💥💥💥

From the author of Ricochet and Backfire comes a dark erotic suspense serial …

Episode Four: With every cause, there’s an effect, and Ripley will do everything in his power to keep Dylan safe. To hell with the consequences.

Series Synopsis:

Ripley

They call me RIP.
I’m a killer. A murderer. A psychopath.
In the eyes of the righteous, I’m a monster, born of sin and depravity.
I want to protect her, but I’m not a good man.
I want to love her, but I no longer feel.
She gets under my skin, though, and has awakened something inside of me.
Something I’d kill for.
I’m not her savior—not even close. In fact, I’m worse than the hell she’s already suffered.
I’m her vengeance. Tit for tat, as they say.
And if she’s not careful, I’ll be her ruin.

Dylan

For months, I’ve watched him.
I’ve fantasized him as my savior, my lover. My ticket out of the hell I’ve lived in for the last six years.
I never dreamed he’d be my nightmare.
Had I known what he really is, I’d have never gotten in the car that night, but life is full of cause and effect.
And sometimes the choice on offer isn’t a choice at all.
It’s the result of something already in motion, and we’re merely left to survive the ripple effect.

*This is an erotic suspense/erotic romance not recommended for readers under the age of 18 due to graphic violence and sex

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❇❇❇ Expert ❇❇❇

Dylan

“Look, I know it doesn’t mean anything to you.  I get that you don’t like the hero stuff.  But I really do appreciate what you did.”  I run my finger along his perfectly trimmed hairline and bend forward to kiss the back of his neck.  I can’t help it.  It’s the first time I’ve attempted affection since his accusation.

He doesn’t react at all.  Doesn’t even look at me, and I’m at a complete loss for how to crack this man.  There are times I feel I’ve touched his soul, only to find I’ve not even breached his skin.  
His lack of reaction to me is nothing short of embarrassing—rejection of the worst kind, because I’ve tacked it on to a pathetic gesture of thanks.
“Forget it.”  I step past him and feel a hard grip of my arm that spins me right the hell around.  Twisting my wrist is a fruitless effort in his steel grip, and in spite of my resistance, he pulls me back into him, until I fall awkwardly straddling his lap.  I slide back on his legs, and he yanks me forward by my wrists, until I’m fully aware of what must be one hell of a painful bulge between us.  “This isn’t easy for me, you know?  Showing my gratitude.  I’m not used to this shit.  And you make it … impossible!”
“I don’t need your fucking gratitude, Dylan.  It was a job, okay?”
“I’m just a job to you?”  I can’t even believe I’m talking aloud, saying this shit like something straight out of an angsty teen movie, but he’s got me so pissed I can’t help myself.  The words continue to fall in all their cringe-worthy glory.  “That’s it?  You didn’t give a shit, right?  You’d have let those bastards use and abuse me right there? Rook wanted to fuck me with a pair of pliers.  Did you know that?”  The tic of his eye and the clench of his jaw tell me I’ve hit a nerve, and still my mouth won’t quit.  “Is that what gets you off, Ripley?  Are you such a sadistic bastard, so goddamn hell-bent on pain you’d have let that happen?”
His brows come together at the same time he grips my jaw, and for the first time in the last hour, I see something flicker across his face—pain, anger, I can’t tell, but it’s better than the stoic expression he’s been wearing.  “I’ve killed him a million times in my mind for touching you, Dylan.  You’re having trouble showing gratitude?  I’m having a fuck of a time playing the good guy here.  I don’t save people, sweetheart.  I kill them.  In brutally violent ways, but last night …” His lips form a hard line, brows stern.  “I would’ve taken every bruise they put on your body.  Every punch for you.  Only for you.  Seeing you laid out like that flipped my fucking switch, and I lost control.” 

 

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EXCERPT REVEAL

From USA Today bestselling author, Chelle Bliss, comes the seventh book in the Men of Inked series. James and Izzy return on May 9th and they’re hotter than ever. Don’t miss the next installment in the Men of Inked series.

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James Caldo needs to control everything in his life, even his wife, Izzy Gallo. But she’s headstrong and has a need to test her husband’s limits as much as he pushes hers.
When a case at ALFA Private Investigation takes a dark turn, James is forced to get Izzy involved in an undercover sting, and the assignment will test her sexual boundaries as well as the very foundation of their relationship.
Can Izzy hold her tongue long enough to keep them both safe? Or will her unwillingness to fully submit draw the eye of the very man they’re after?

💥💥💥PREORDER NOW AVAILABLE💥💥💥
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Text Alert → Text GALLOS to 24587

 

EXCERPT
“Izzy, please. Be reasonable.”
I loved when James begged. “Say it again,” I taunted him.
What the fuck with the be reasonable comment? I’m always reasonable. Okay, maybe that isn’t entirely true. I usually shoot from the hip and save the apologies for later. My big mouth has gotten me into more trouble over the years, and much of it I try to forget, especially when it comes to James.
He arched an eyebrow, and the same shitty smirk that I’d grown accustomed to flashed across his lips. “I could make you say yes.¬”
“Doubtful.” I glared at him, feeling supercocky even though I was in no position to be.
James, my loving husband of over ten years, decided that tonight was a good time to tie me to the bed. I should’ve known he was up to no good because it’d been more than a little bit since he’d used restraints during sex. I figured we were just getting our kink on and that he wanted to try something new, but nope, the bastard knew I wouldn’t like what he was asking and made sure I didn’t have an out.
“Baby,” he whispered, running his thumbs across my bottom lip and trying to seduce me. “You know you can’t say no to me. Never have and never will.”
There were very few people in this world that could make me do anything, but James had a power over me since the first night I met him. Saying no to him had always been damn near impossible, and I almost hated myself because of it.
I never wanted to be that girl—the one who caved to anything her husband asked. Never in my life had I wanted to be her, an easy mark and a carpet for her husband to walk all over, but things don’t always turn out the way we plan. I learned that the hard way.
James wasn’t even on my radar until the night of Joe and Suzy’s wedding when he sauntered in with his good looks and charm. The arrogant bastard seemed to work me like he’d known me my entire life, and I fell for it.
I thought I’d won when I snuck out. I figured I’d never see him again, so what did it matter. Boy, was I wrong.
“I’ve said no to you plenty of times.” I refused to let him use his sexual prowess, which I’d done in the past, but sometimes I had to dig my heels in and find my inner bitch.
I pulled at the restraints and tried to break free, but it was useless. The man could tie the most wicked knots, and it had been years since I’d been able to wiggle out of them. Every time I escaped, he’d learn a new technique until he found just the right one to render me helpless.
His lips scorched a path down my neck, and my back arched as if begging for his touch. “Say yes, Izzy.”
I stifled the moan that formed low in my throat, but I squeaked instead when he sucked my nipple into his mouth. My body rocked on its own, moving toward him instinctively, wanting the bite of his teeth. His hand slid down my front, cupping my pussy, not hard enough to give me pleasure, only the sweet torment that he reveled in.
“Say yes, and I’ll give you what you want.”
He was playing with me. James was a master manipulator. I didn’t know if it was his background with the DEA or just something he was born with, but he used it perfectly when it suited his purpose.
I clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth together. “No.”
He pulled my panties to the side before dipping two fingers inside me with the most sinful smile. “Last chance, baby,” he warned.
What was he going to do to me if I didn’t give in? The thought passed through my mind, but I pushed it away. I was lost in the feel of his hands on my skin and the ache between my legs, but my resistance held. “No,” I bit out.

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Don’t forget to catch up with the Men of Inked series today and be ready for Worship Me on May 9th!

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🔥🔥🔥 About The Author 🔥🔥🔥

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Chellea Bliss is the USA Today bestselling author of the Men of Inked and ALFA P.I. series. She hails from the Midwest, but currently lives near the beach even though she hates sand. She’s a full-time writer, time-waster extraordinaire, social media addict, coffee fiend, and ex high school history teacher. She loves spending time with her two cats, alpha boyfriend, and chatting with readers. To learn more about Chelle, please visit chellebliss.com.
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