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Thursday, January 18, 2018

Saint's Mercy by Cecile Tellier πŸ’• Book Tour & Gift Card Giveaway πŸ’• (Motorcycle Romance)

Lucien Rossi grew up on the streets of Santa Cruz, California. He had little to nothing to call his own, and ran with a rough crowd. He only had two things he cherished in his life, the most important was Luz Ramirez. When he met her he knew she was someone he would die to protect. Years later and now a president of the Saint’s Mercy Motorcycle Club, he’s about to find out that Luz is still a grenade to his best intentions.

When her mother passed away, Luz Ramirez was given a second chance at a happy life with her foster mother. What she didn’t count on was that she would meet the dangerous but magnetic Lucien. Even after forcing herself to move away rather than become like her mother, it only takes a few days back for this bail bondswoman to recognize who her heart belongs to.

1. What literary pilgrimages have you gone on?
I don’t know if these count, but I’ve gone to Ohio, Nevada, Maine, as well as Lake George and Staten Island, NY for signings/workshops.  I love travelling especially for writing!

2. What is the first book that made you cry?
Well, books frequently make me cry but I would say Anne Rice’s Interview with a Vampire.  She was my first major author addiction, and I fancied myself a bit like Claudia.

3. What are common traps for aspiring writers?
Comparisons.  This is a trap for new and seasoned writers as well.  You should never compare yourself to others.  At the end of the day you are your own biggest competition.  Every project I take on, I hope is better than my last.

5. Does a big ego help or hurt writers?
Ego is often talked about in the negative but it is just someone’s sense of self-esteem or importance.  We should have good self-esteem and definitely a sense of importance. When having a big ego hurts a writer is if it stops them from accepting criticism, or relating to their readers.

6. What is your writing Kryptonite?
Time, I have to manage my time wisely.  I think most writers who are also mothers, wives, etc., have to balance their time.

7. Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
I don’t really have a choice but to be original.  I dream my books so I write whatever I happen to have dreamed about.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t get an idea sometimes or plan something out for special projects, but I wouldn’t write something that I didn’t feel inspired to do.

8. If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
Get contracts for absolutely –everything-.
What was the best money you ever spent as a writer?
Hands down I would say conventions and signings.  If I didn’t have an opportunity to come out and meet everyone it would be so much harder to make some of the reader connections that I’ve made.  I truly love hanging out with everyone!

9. As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal?
I absolutely love Owls.  They’re all over my offices and I have actual barn owls that moved into our barn shortly after we bought our house.  They aren’t domesticated but they leave me gifts on the porch in the form of partially digested rabbits and mice.

10. What does literary success look like to you?
I think that changes for me all the time.  I always have a higher goal set than what I’m accomplishing.  When I set out to write for publication my goal was to be published.  It has evolved since then.

11. What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?
The internet is amazing, however, if I can’t find information that I can trust on the web, I will contact someone who is an expert.  An example of this would be the time I asked about a rocket launcher and was given a million youtube links of what they actually do to buildings.  That was research gold.

12. What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters from the opposite sex?
I think it’s writing the character in a genuine way but not catering to stereotypes.  I don’t tend to focus on the gender of my characters as much as the character of them if that makes any sense.

13. What did you edit out of this book?
Oh boy, well I have to say I edited more –into- it than out of it.  I don’t tend to like the delete button but I will sometimes replace or add things to a book.  In my mind once it has been written it’s like it happened so I hate to undo it, though I do if it’s not benefitting the story.

14. Do you read your book reviews? How do you deal with bad or good ones?
I love this question.  I sometimes do read them but I’m not obsessive about reading them or knowing how many I have.  If a blogger does a nice review I will often share it and thank them.  If I receive a “bad” review, I will typically analyze the information and if it’s helpful use it in my next project.  If the review is not necessarily helpful I will just accept it and move on.  I never engage with people over reviews, other than to thank them.

15. What is your favorite childhood book?
It wasn’t one book, it was a collection of old versions of Fairy Tales and Fables.  My favorite story was Billy Goat’s Gruff and the Princess and the Pea.  My mother had a hilarious way of doing Billy Goat’s Gruff that I ended up feeling bad for the troll.

16. What is the most difficult part of your artistic process?
Balancing the artistic creation with the business piece of this industry.  I know I’d love to do nothing but crank out stories I love all day every day but there is so much more to writing and being a professional in this industry.

17. How long on average does it take you to write a book?
It really depends on the time of year, how forceful the muse is, and how long the book is.  I would say if the stars all align about a month or two at most for a full-length book.  I can finish a book in a few weeks if it’s a novella sized story.

18. Do you believe in writer’s block?
I do believe in it.  I don’t tend to suffer from it because my muse is my dreams.  I never lack for material in fact I sometimes am overloaded.  I have friends who write however that have had stretches of silence from their muses.  I think the best you can do is keep writing, even if it’s a grocery list or a journal.  Listen to music, take in the arts.  I feel like the first thing that jumpstarts the muse is other creative outlets.

Leaning forward he pressed his forehead against hers with a smile he couldn’t hold back. "As to the state of my purity, don't ask questions you don't want the answers to. You live in a world of black and white where the guilty are punished and the innocent live happily-ever-after, but my world is and has always been full of shades of gray."
Luz's eyes darkened to that near black as she looked into his. "I've not yet found a happily-ever-after, and I'm far from innocent. I don't need your charity, your pity, or your protection."
Lucien saw the look of hurt flash over her face before she once again hid behind that blank mask she so often slipped on when she dealt with the outside world. He'd be damned if she'd use it on him, though. Before he could stop and think rationally about his next move he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. "I've never pitied you, and your acquaintance to me has been anything but charitable for you. My protection you will get, whether you like it or not, Luzzy. Even when I'm not there, I'll be damned if someone gets anywhere near you to hurt you."
Luz opened her mouth, and before she could get a word out, Lucien’s impulse and need collided, resulting with his hands speared into her curls, and his mouth eating hungrily at hers. Her muffled shriek of surprise was quickly turned into a moan against his tongue as he took no time in plunging it between her lips when they opened. He knew this was the worst possible thing he could have done, as they'd always been like gas and fire when angry, but he couldn't deny himself.
When her head snapped back he was certain she was going to slap him, or worse. Instead, she gasped for air briefly, then grabbed his ears and pulled him back in for another meeting of lips, teeth, and tongue. He'd never known Luz this way, not for lack of wishing, and he was quickly regretting that he'd not tried this sooner. The sound of persistent banging was the only thing that had him breaking the kiss and backing away from her.


Cross Stroke by Elizabeth Hartey πŸ’• Book Blitz & Gift Card Giveaway πŸ’• (Contemporary Romance)


One night left my heart shattered and my reputation ruined, and now my only hope is to transfer to another university far from home. Although I’m a champion figure skater and am used to succeeding, I can’t dump the burden of distrust and intimacy I’m carrying.

But when I literally crash into the cocky captain of the hockey team, sparks fly, and the attraction is as undeniable as it is unwanted.

No way is this arrogant hottie the one to help me move past my fears. Or is he…?


Overwhelmed with guilt and remorse, I can’t forget the tragic accident that killed my first love. To avoid ever feeling that kind of agonizing loss again, I vow to stick with one-night stands with every puck bunny who glides my way and focus on keeping my position on the hockey team.

But after I meet a feisty figure skater and am then thrown together with her as a lab partner, I find I want to melt the icy walls we’ve built around our hearts.

If we don’t strangle each other first.

The courage to be responsible for someone’s life and happiness again is something I lack in a big way. In the end, being responsible for someone else’s life and happiness is what a real relationship is all about. Being with the one special person you want feels great…most of the time. However, if something goes wrong, it can be decimating for both people. Once you cross the relationship line, both people possess the power to destroy each other. I know what it’s like to be bulldozed by love. I can’t risk it again. But did I already cross the line by kissing her the way I did? Because she’s all I think about, all I see when I close my eyes. I don’t get this.
I thought I loved Abbey with all my heart. I thought we would be together for the rest of our lives. I guess we were. I just didn’t know the rest of Abbey’s life would be so short. But if all those emotions for Abbey were real, how can I be feeling what I’m feeling for Trace now? She’s so different than Abbey. I’m consumed by the guilty feeling that if Abbey had lived, in time I might’ve fallen out of love with her and destroyed her in a different way.
We were both young. I’m not exactly ancient now, but three or four years in time and experience in college can make a world of difference. I’m a different guy than I was when I was a freshman, learned a lot about life and love. That doesn’t mean I know for sure what the future holds and I don’t want to do anything to Trace to hurt her somewhere down the road. She deserves way better than me.
See what I mean about relationships? I’m a perfect example. A few months ago, I had figured out how to live my life on my terms: hockey, school, surfing, the casual hook up with the next consenting hot girl to come my way. Now I’m a f…ed up mess trying to figure out what I’m feeling for Trace. She deserves more than this guarded, emotional wreck.

The Billionaire’s Betrayal by Mika Lane πŸ’• Book Blitz & Signed Book Giveaway πŸ’• (Contemporary Romance)

I own the hottest boutique hotel in Manhattan. Only the rich and famous stay here. They’re the only ones who can afford it. And they’re the only ones we allow.
I’m busy, I’m successful, I’m rich, and I can seduce any woman I want. So when I agreed to another god-awful “bachelor auction” fundraiser for some freaking charity, I prepared myself for a date with some crazy chick who blathered on about her cat, and how many children she’d like to have one day.

Thanks, but no thanks.

So when my “date,” the winner of the latest auction of my bad boy self, emailed me to set up a rendezvous, I planned on having one drink and bailing. My assistant knew exactly when to call me so I could fake an emergency.

Only this date was different. Sure, she was beautiful—Manhattan is full of stunning women, mostly looking for rich husbands. But this one was the brilliant CEO of a tech firm. And she could have given two craps about me. Before I knew it, her half-empty martini sat on the bar wearing the slightest smudge of her red lipstick.

Was she beating me at my own game? I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t.

What was different about Nara was how she held herself, so unselfconscious. She had a ridiculously large bag thrown over one shoulder. It must have been heavy as hell because she had to lean in the opposite direction to keep from toppling over. And while she wore those expensive, fuck-me style pumps, she was a little pigeon “toed. Not enough to look dopey, but enough to look like she wasn’t trying too hard. Her hair had been pulled back into some messy confection at the nape of her neck and from where I sat, it looked like strands were poking out all over. She looked real.

Please double-check the price before you buy!

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Total Exposure by J.A. Huss πŸ’• Book Blitz & Gift Card Giveaway πŸ’• (Romantic Suspense)

Not Everyone Needs A Master.
Not everyone needs to really live, either.
Some people are content to be a participant in the game of life. Others want to play for real.
If you want to play for real, come to me, lovely. I’ll give you that little push you need.
I’ll open your mind, and your world, and soul. Lay you bare. Let you feel the heat of my stare. Take you places you’ve never been before.
Your body is my chessboard, sweets.
And if you give in to me, and you play, you might even win.
It’s just… your prize might not be what you went looking for.


She stares up at me. The camera me. Challenging.
She’s been through so many emotions since she got here it shouldn’t surprise me how far she swings. But it does. Because challenging glares imply power and if there’s one thing Evangeline Rolaine isn’t, it’s powerful.
“Are you watching me?” she asks the cameras.
“Yeah,” I say through a smile. “I’m watching.”
“Because I’m about to put on a show.” She looks away, her cheeks red with… what? Shame? Embarrassment?
I don’t think I care at the moment.
Her chest rises and falls dramatically. Like she just took a deep breath of courage. And then she turns her back to the camera I’m watching through, peeks over her shoulder, and lets the towel fall down her body.
Her shape is hourglass curvy. Her legs are long and her wet hair trickles water down her spine and right over her plump, tight ass.
She’s still peeking over her shoulder when she sighs, closing her eyes. Her arms are moving and I search each camera angle trying to see what she’s doing. Her position in the room is ironically perfect. Because I don’t have a view of her front.
I think she’s playing with her tits. She might even have fingers between her legs.
The urge to speak to her through the microphone is almost overwhelming. I want to tell her to turn so I can see. I want to tell her to do other things too.
Dirty things.
Stick your fingers in your pussy, then stick them in your mouth. Suck them like you would my cock.
These thoughts make me hard and my hand wanders down to my growing dick.
She begins to pant heavily. Her eyes still closed, her arms still moving. Conveying the impression that she’s masturbating.
This… is not what I expected out of the terrified prodigy recluse.
I lean back in my chair, unbutton my jeans, pull my cock out, and join a game that can’t lead to anything but self-destruction.
I like those games though. It’s been a long time since I’ve played a proper one.
She stills for a moment, opening her eyes to stare over her shoulder at the camera.
“Keep going,” I whisper, wishing she could hear me. Wanting her to hear me. “I’m just getting started.”


His to Break by Penelope Prince πŸ’• Book Blitz & Gift Card Giveaway πŸ’• (Contemporary Romance)

His Obsession. Her undoing.

Dr. Aiden Shaw is everything I ever wanted—handsome, smart, rich, and dominant. There’s one problem. He has an addiction.
And I’m the only doctor who can treat him.

Our patient-doctor relationship is unconventional. He has one request. I have to fulfill his every desire. In return, Aiden has to open up about his past and bare all his darkest secrets to me.

He promised me pain.
I promised my body.
I thought I could fix him.
He wanted to break me.
Now, he’s become addicted…to me.

“You would be the perfect subject,” Scarlett says to me with a wink. “I’d love to study you, Aiden.”
I dip down to kiss her on the lips, thinking this is my cue, but she takes a step back from me as if she’s disgusted. “I didn’t mean that as a compliment or an invitation.”
Confused, I contemplate the next thing I want to say and choose my words carefully. “I don’t see how I would make a good subject for your trial. I don’t have an addiction.”
She squeezes the pen in her hand and holds it up to her mouth, causing my heart to beat faster. All I can think about is sex when I am around Scarlett O’Brien. Her mouth, those luscious lips, and delicate curves have me wanting her almost every second of the day. I’m hard half the time I sit next to her in our doctoral classes, and no matter how much I try, I can’t get her out of my head. This woman does things to me that I have yet to understand.
As a Psychology doctoral candidate, I know better than anyone that some tendencies can become habit forming. And Scarlett is more than a habit for me. So is sex.
“You have a sex addiction,” Scarlett says, lifting a notepad from the desk. “I’ve been documenting your behavior for a while now.”
“You’ve done what?” Outraged, my voice reaches a higher octave, and the quickening of my heartbeat that was once reserved for my sexual desire for Scarlett has turned to pulse-pounding anger that rushes through my veins. “What gives you the right to study me? I’m your colleague—not your patient.”
She jots down a few notes on her pad and stalks toward me, peeking up at me beneath light brows. Her blue eyes are glassy from pulling an all-nighter. But Scarlett still looks just as beautiful as she did when we started working on our latest assignment over twelve hours ago.
“I wanted to confirm my suspicions before I mentioned anything to you.” Scarlett leans against the table in the conference room, eyeing me up. “Your behavior indicates that my findings are correct, Aiden. It’s not a big deal. I can help you. I mean, I want to help you.”
“You can help me by taking off this dress,” I growl, lifting the thin strap off her shoulder.
Maybe Scarlett is right. Hell, I know she’s right about me. But I am not about to let her conduct experiments on me. She would never understand my world or why I do what I do. If she wants a guinea pig, she can find someone else.
“I’m not going to do that, Aiden,” she purrs the words, which only makes me more excited. “But I think you should take me up on my offer.”
“I’m not about to lose the respect of the faculty by submitting to your treatment program.”
I want to tell her the truth. But I can’t. She would never understand.
She takes my tie in her hands and pulls me closer, staring up at me with lust in her eyes. “It would mean we get to work together. You want me, Aiden. Am I right?”
“More than I’ve ever wanted another woman, especially right now.”
“The thing about addiction is that you can’t succumb to your desires. You have to fight them. If you want me, then you will not get me. It’s as simple as that.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Ever?”
“No, not unless you go through with the trial.”
“And if I don’t?”
Scarlett drops my tie and pushes her hands onto her hips, drawing my attention to her narrow waist and the rest of her delicious curves. “Then, you’ll lose me forever.”
Her words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. After working together for the last two years, I want to keep Scarlett in my life. But she has yet to give me the one thing I want. I can’t get Scarlett to submit to me. The more she fights me, the more I want her.
What I feel for Scarlett is the closest my damaged heart will ever come to love. So, why can’t I give her the one thing she wants? Because she denies me what I want.
”I’m not an addict,” I tell her, holding my ground. Even if I have a problem, I will never admit it aloud, and to Scarlett, of all people. “I’m not one of your junkie patients you can run tests on.”
Can I walk away from her? Do I want her help?
Scarlett sucks in a deep breath and blows it out. “We graduate next week. No one will ever know.”
“Yes, they will.” I step forward, take her face in my hands, and gaze into her eyes. “I don’t have a problem, Scarlett. Will you leave it alone already and just kiss me?”
“I refuse to feed your addiction, Aiden. All the signs are there, and as a doctor, even you choose to ignore them. Over the years, I have watched you sneak off with women between classes. I know what you do with them.”
To this day, Scarlett hasn’t allowed me to kiss her, not even a peck on the lips. At least now, I know why. She only wanted to study me, like some fucking lab rat.
“Sex addiction isn’t even a real thing,” I spit back, releasing my grip on her.
“Yes, it is,” she counters, with fire behind her words. “Hypersexual disorder is an addiction to sex. Don’t act like you didn’t learn the same thing as I did.”
“Just because you wrote your thesis on addiction doesn’t make you an expert.”
“I wouldn’t have a treatment program with the backing of the school if I was some clueless moron.”
“You know what I mean, Scar. Stop being so difficult.”
She turns around to shove her books and notepads into a messenger bag before she slings it over her shoulder. “I guess we are done here, Aiden.”
As I watch Scarlett walk out of the room, I know I should consider her program. But I’m too stubborn to go after her.