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Archive for the ‘W – Z Authors’ Category

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RAZED, a sexy romance by award-winning author, Shiloh Walker, is the much awaited sequel to WRECKED in the Barnes Brothers series and it releases this December from Berkley!

 

Take a look at the cover and let us know what you think!

Don’t forget to enter the giveaway for a chance to win a signed paperback copy of WRECKED, along with some fabulous swag! (Yes, it’s international :))

 

 

Rafflecopter Giveaway

 

About RAZED:

 

Tattoo artist Keelie Jessup can handle that someone else has claimed the man of her dreams. She’s just not pleased with her remaining options…

Keelie doesn’t believe in the “perfect man.” But the men who are worth the trouble are usually taken—like her business partner Zach Barnes. After a string of bad luck and the lost chance with Zach, Keelie decides that maybe flying solo—and living with suppressed desires—is the key to happiness.

As a photographer, Zane Barnes has an eye for the human form, and his eyes can’t get enough of Keelie’s curves. Unfortunately, Keelie is like most women—always fawning over his little brother, Zach. Zane is about ready to give up, but then a few stolen moments at his brother’s wedding have him thinking maybe there’s a chance there after all. Now he just has to prove that the perfect man does exist…for her.

 

Indiebound | BN | BAMM | iBooks | Amazon

 

Also in the Barnes Brothers series: WRECKED by Shiloh Walker!

 

About Shiloh Walker:

 

Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid… she fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah… serious vampire stories. She loves reading and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, but most all anything romantic. Once upon a time, she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She also writes under the pen name J. C. Daniels.

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter| Goodreads (more…)

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Winter Austin is back with the fourth and final book in her chilling romantic suspense series, Degrees of Darkness. Reckoning is now available everywhere e-books are sold.

 

ReckoningThe honeymoon is over for Cody and Remy LeBeau. And Cody’s darkest secret haunts her, threatening to destroy their marriage.

The brutal murder of a former judge sets in motion a domino effect of killings that all point back to Cody and her father. She suspects her father is hiding something sinister from her and Remy. But the closer she tries to get to her husband, the more she feels Remy drifting away from her, taken by his job and his stubborn instance that she’s not trusting him enough. Then her ex-boyfriend sends her a warning note, and with her world spinning out of control, Cody turns to the only man she does trust to help her and protect Remy. Her actions produce a result she’s not prepared to handle.

Remy watches as his once happy marriage is pulled apart brick by brick. With threats closing in all sides, he’s forced to resort to his cold, secretive style that has kept him alive. If he’s to have any chance at succeeding, he must rely on the assistance of the last person on earth he wants to reach out to, even if the result continues to push Cody away.

Death will have a reckoning, and for Cody and Remy it could mean the end of everything they’ve loved.

Sensuality Level: Behind Closed Doors

 

READ AN EXCERPT:

How much time was enough? Geesh, if Remy blew her off again, there might be some good, old-fashioned, Texas ass-whooping tonight.

“You’re serious?” Marion Wilks’s question brought Cody out of her mental rant. Marion was Steve’s wife and co-owner of Ima Monster.

“I’m so serious. You should see them eat. It’s like a freaking delicacy.” Breaking open the miniature-looking lobster, Cody pinched the softened shell over the tail until it split open and she removed the meat with her teeth.

“And you’re married to one,” Marion said, then continued nibbling on her half-eaten corncob.

“And he still grosses me out when he does it, too.”

JC wiggled his way between Cody and the guy next to her and plucked a crawdad— or mudbug, as Remy was so fond of calling them— off the mound in front of her and the women. “Who grosses you out doing what?” he asked and cracked open the crawdad.

Well, if she was going to get stood-up, again, she could have some fun. Cody grinned at the older woman and eyed JC wickedly. He hadn’t been able to stick around Houma after her wedding long enough to know the Cajuns’ little secret when eating their crawdads. And from the looks of the crowd gathered around the tables, not many in the cutting horse world knew about it, or cared to do it, either. She watched JC chew the meaty part from the tail.

“You’ve got that evil gleam in your eyes.” He waved the empty tail at her. “What’s that all about?”

Behind her, Marion snickered.

“Oh, I was just tellin’ Marion how Remy and his family usually eat one of these things.”

JC bit into another crawdad, waiting. Oh man, Cody felt particularly evil. She ran her tongue over her teeth and grinned.

“They suck the heads.”

JC stopped chewing, a greenish-whitish tinge appeared on his rugged face, bleaching out his suntan. “Say what?”

“Yeah, they crack ’em open, suck the innards out and then eat the meat. Remy says all the good stuff is in the heads.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” JC dropped the shell and staggered away.

Marion burst out laughing. Cody faced the table and plucked a corncob out of the mound, her cheeks aching from the grin.

“How is it that a boy who grew up eating prairie oysters is grossed out about sucking the heads on these things?” Marion asked, flopping a whole crawdad around.

“Don’t ask me.”

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

WinterWinter Austin was once asked by her husband if he could meet some of the people who took residence in her head. She warned they weren’t all characters he wanted to meet, as killers walked among them. Needless to say, that conversation ended abruptly.

 

A lifelong Mid-West gal, Winter swears she should have been born in the South, Texas or Louisiana preferably. But then she’d miss the snowy winters.

 

Dividing her day between her four children and their various activities, a growing pet population, and her Beta-with-Alpha-tendencies Hero, Winter manages to find time to write chilling thrillers between loads of laundry.

 

Don’t worry. You won’t find any of her mouthwatering culinary dishes poisoned. Unless you’re one of her fictional creations.

 

E-BOOK GIVEAWAY:

For the chance to win a digital copy (mobi or epub format) of Reckoning by Winter Austin, just leave a comment below. Two winners will be drawn. Good luck!
Where to find Winter:

 

Twitter: @WinterAustin_
www.winteraustin.com
www.facebook.com/w.austin.degressofdarkness

http://www.pinterest.com/winteraustin/

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Happy new year!  I’m romantic comedy author Lucy Woodhull, and I’m here to promo my latest book, THE DIMPLE STRIKES BACK (sequel to THE DIMPLE OF DOOM).  This series is about an art thief with a seriously dangerous dimple, and the secretary-turned-actress who falls for him.  And when I say “falls,” I mean that, bruises and all.

Dimple 1 and 2 covers

Here’s a blurb for the series:

The Samantha Lytton series by Lucy Woodhull

Obviously, the solution to a failed acting career and depressing dating desert is to take up with a dimpled art thief, get chased by thugs, lie to the police and almost die.

That’s not what Samantha Lytton thought would happen when she kissed the guy who said he was an accountant at the office Christmas party.  But in her defense — it was an amazing freaking kiss.  The kind of lip-lock that frustrates you in the wee hours.

Turns out, thinking with your nether regions can lead to poor decisions.  Or perhaps…fantastic ones.  Samantha and her burglar travel from Los Angeles to Vegas to Paris to London on adventures that bring Samantha’s wildest dreams of stardom to fruition.  After spending years falling on her face, she learns to fight for herself and her heart’s desire.  You can’t choose who to love, but you can try to keep his cute butt out of jail and in your bed.

No matter where in the world you go, or how many hot movie stars you kiss (um, professionally), you never forget your first criminal.  Hopefully, only criminal.  Although bad boys with dangerous dimples are nothing but trouble, a relationship can still work as long as the goons don’t get you.  And if they do, well, at least an actress is good at improvisation.

* * *

When January rolls around, we all consider what we want to accomplish in the fresh and sparkly new year.  Most of the time, these to-do lists are very, super serious, and filled with deep thoughts about being a better person, or getting a promotion at work.  But I think that more mundane goals are also good to have, just in case that vice president title doesn’t come to pass.  Hey, at least you can say that you accomplished something.

If the heroine of my Dimple book series, Samantha Lytton, were to make a resolution, it might be to never hump an art thief.  Or, you know, to hump an art thief, because even if he’s ruining your life, at least there’s humping!  She would also resolve to eat more Pizza Rolls, which is something that everyone should do.

Here are mine…

Lucy’s Less-Than-Lofty Life Goals for 2014:

1. Do the dishes less frequently.

1A.  Teach the cat to do dishes.  Or convince husband that scrubbing pots is way more fun than it is.

2. Try one of those fancy nail polish jobbies that look like Degas painted your fingers.  Figure out a way to not have it chip in 5.6 seconds.

2A.  Do not drip nail polish on the floor.

2B.  If nail polish ends up on floor, buy attractive rug.

3. Cuss in traffic less, unless the piece of $#!+ really deserves it.
4. Get a mammogram (important for everyone!)
5. Do not apologize for eating any food ever.  It’s a waste of time, breath, and you deserve some cake, dammit, especially if you’ve stopped yelling at idiot drivers.  Basically, you’re Mother Theresa now, and deserve a milkshake.
6. Read more smut.
7. Stop and dance to Beyoncé no matter when/where you are.
8. Stop wearing bras that itch and pinch.  Boobs deserve better.
9. Invest in more caftans, as befitting a fancy author of smut.

9A.  Caftans should be bejeweled, duh.

9B.  Or at least gold lamé.

10  Say hello to every kitty and puppy you pass.  Naming them is optional, but recommended.
11. Have more patience, because you never know what someone else is going through or dealing with in their own life.

Okay, I snuck a serious one in there at the end, but number ten is something I try to remind myself of a lot.  The person frowning at you in the CVS could be having the worst day of their lives, so taking a deep breath and being nice can sometimes make a huge difference to someone.

I wish you and yours a wondrous year in 2014!  To hopefully start that off, leave a comment below with one of your non-groundbreaking new year’s resolutions, and you’ll be entered to win digital copies of both of my Dimple books!  Woot!

 

Lucy — Website Goodreads Twitter Blog Facebook

 

Book One:  THE DIMPLE OF DOOM — Available in print and digital from:  Totally Bound, Amazon, AllRomance.com, B&N, Sony / Excerpt here.

Book Two: THE DIMPLE STRIKES BACK — Available in digital (print coming March, 2014) from: Totally Bound, Amazon, AllRomance.com / Excerpt here.

 

Excerpt from THE DIMPLE STRIKES BACK:

Chapter One
You Can’t Spell “Happiness” Without “Pain”

No one would suppose, looking at me, little Samantha Lytton, that I am a sophisticated movie maven with an illicit thief for a lover. But that hypothetical lookie-loo would be wrong, and not just because I’m shorter than the average actress and/or gangster’s moll.

Outside the oval window beside me, clouds floated by on the vicious air currently bouncing my airplane to and fro. And taking my cocktail with it. “Shit!” I hissed. I swiped at my lap and accidentally splashed the puddle of vodka I’d dribbled there onto my seatmate’s sleeve. The businessey dude frowned at me and patted the offending liquid with a napkin.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I hate flying. But I love vodka! And talking when I’m nervous!” A too-long peal of laughter floated out of me from parts unknown. I took a deep breath and fought for calm. “Okay, I’m done now.” I beamed him the smile that Entertainment Weekly called ‘charming and dorky’.

I’d like it noted that they totally put ‘charming’ first.

My fellow first-classer didn’t seem impressed by me. No matter-I was suspended over the ocean, high on Xanax and whatever booze I’d managed to get into my mouth, on the way to London to shoot my very first starring role in a film. A bona-fide film-film-not one of those budget shoots where the catering is a Happy Meal thrown at you after filming illegally in an alley while you wear Goodwill clothing all night.

In the last year, People magazine had called me ‘Clara Bow 2.0′, and declared me the only entertaining part of my first movie I Cried Lavender Tears in Paris. Well, except for the bit when Justin Bieber exploded.

After that, I’d won a small but memorable scene in a Judd Apatow flick, a sidekick part in a Tina Fey movie and a recurring arc on a TV show soon cancelled for being too clever for anyone to watch. I was an underground darling in that I was a funny actress who looked like an average woman-with better-than-average teeth. I’d accepted any project offered to me, and as they began coming out, I got noticed by the Powers That Be.

The Powers That Be are a group of male studio executives who base an actress’ worth on a calculation that goes something like…

 

fuckability + sexiness * (hilarity + popularity on Twitter2) + (blonde * 10)

 

I score highly enough in the tits and hilarity departments-even though I am no longer blonde, but redheaded-that they have taken a massive risk on me with this new movie. Not for the first time, I clutched my stomach, terrified that I’d outpaced my abilities. In a few days, I’d begin shooting What Could Go Wrong?, a heist spoof about a down-on-their-luck couple who rob the British Museum with a group of misfits.

Now, Sam would tell you that he was instrumental in getting me this movie. He’s my illicit thief lover and yes, I had indeed learned about skulking and running and lying and truly superior oral sex from him. And about how you can drown in hazel eyes whether they’re mossiest green or deepest brown.

He also taught me that the dimple is the most savage of facial features, causing everyday ladies ‘brain paralysis’ so they throw off the shackles of their boring, secretarial lives and embrace an existence on the lam from cops and robbers alike. He’d used me to steal a Picasso. I’d turned the ensuing notoriety into the acting career I’d always dreamed of.

“Yup.” I slashed the air with my vodka cup. The dude beside me ducked and cowered. “Life is good,” I told him with a pat on the arm. “Sometimes storm clouds assemble and piss rain all over your head, but other times-ouch!”

My other seatmate had woken up. Captain Taco’s claw still clutched my ankle, his mournful feline cry echoing throughout the elite cabin. I tapped at his paw until he released me, then I pulled his carrier out from below the seat. My human friend muttered, threw down his Wall Street Journal-a paper one! Perhaps he was from the past-and stalked to another part of the airplane.

I stuck my head above the seat, periscope-style, to search for flight attendants. The coast was clear. I released Taco from his prison and took his bundle of feline black fluff into my arms. He actually did comfort me, the little bastard. He was an ex-pet of Sam’s, and it had taken some time for us to form a solid relationship, but we had finally meshed. I loved Taco to bits and cuddled him at every turn. He agreed not to murder me in my sleep as long as I fed him. I cradled him, belly up, while he gave me a glare of wild condescension.

The last year had been surreal, going from depressed secretary comforting herself with roller skating and Pizza Rolls-often together-to respected working actress. I considered pinching myself to make sure life was real, but Taco took care of that with a bite to my hand. I hissed and sucked on the already flaming pink wound.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid you cannot have an unrestrained animal out during flight.”

I smiled at the polite, frowning flight attendant whose pasty skin reminded me I’d soon be on an island where clouds battled the sun and often won. She offered to help me put Taco away, but I did it myself. No reason for the innocent to be mauled by eleven pounds of adorable rage. I’d given him kitty sedatives, but he didn’t seem to enjoy them the way I did.

The lady hung around, a smile creeping into the corner of her mouth. She leaned forward. “I’m a big fan, Ms Williams. Love your new hair color.”

Le sigh. “I’m not Michelle Williams. I get that a lot, though.”

“Wait-are you the lady from the Tina Fey movie? What was it… The World’s Worst Wedding? You are! You’re so funny!”

She got me on the second try-I couldn’t have stopped the grin that split my face if I’d tried. “Hi. Thanks. Hi.”

“Meeeewwwwrrrrr,” said Taco. My resume left him unimpressed thus far.

She put one knee on the empty seat beside me. “I’m sorry, it’s just in case the cat gets free, you know? I don’t want her to get hurt.”

Taco hissed and swiped. I jerked my leg to safety. “Captain Taco is a he. He’s sexist, that’s why he thinks being called a girl is demeaning.”

The flight attendant laughed. “Can I get you some champagne? Perhaps a magazine?”

I held up the now-slightly-soggy-from-vodka script in my lap. Very professional. “I should probably keep studying this. Although champagne would definitely help.”

She sucked in a breath and gawked to read the title page. “Is that the Daniel Zhang movie? Oh, my goodness, he is so unbelievably hot.”

“I know! They’re gonna pay me to kiss him!”

“Jammy devil!” She giggled more and whipped off to get me bubbly I didn’t really need.

I didn’t know what a jammy devil was, but I generally approved of both jam and devils. “Am I bovvered?” I asked no one.

“Hhhhhhhssssssss,” replied Taco.

“Oh, you’re always taking the piss.” I settled back, my glittering bubbly in hand. You’re going to be brilliant, I told myself. And you’ll have a killer British accent any minute now.

* * *

 

 

 

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dragonfly-kisses-web-copy

Dragonfly Kisses by Sabrina York

A Tryst Island Erotic Romance

 

Dylan Deveney has no interest in a wild fling. He simply wants a quiet place where he can try to forget a painful past and, barring that, drink himself to death. But when he catches a glimpse of his exquisite neighbor—in the buff—his passion for life reignites.

 

Cassie French can’t resist Dylan’s allure. From his scruffy beard to his earring to his intriguing dragonfly tattoo, she’s crazy about him. And sex between them is scorching. Everything seems perfect…until a tragedy from Dylan’s past threatens to ruin everything.

 

An Excerpt from Dragonfly Kisses

When they finished eating and bantering, a crackling silence fell. Cassie licked her finger and blotted up her crumbs. “Well,” she said. “I should probably be going.” She moved to stand.

“Don’t.”

One word, sharp, with a tinge of panic, froze her in place. She glanced at him.

“Please stay. I’ve…enjoyed talking to you.”

She forced a smile. “Lucy will be worried.”

“About me?”

She laughed. “About me. Poaching. We have rules about poaching, you see.”

“Poaching only counts on things you own. Lucy doesn’t own me.”

Cassie cleared her throat. “She wants to. And she has dibbs.”

He snorted a laugh. “Sounds like third grade. And, by the way, I thought Bella had dibbs.”

“They’re dueling over you.”

His expression sobered. “Do I get a say in this?”

She tipped her head to the side. “Have you met them? They can be rather…adamant.”

“So can I. When I want something.”

Her heart flipped. “You, ah, want something?”

“You know I do.”

Holy heaven. His gaze was steamy. It left no doubt about exactly what he wanted. But she had to ask. “W-what?”

He stood, balancing on one foot. “Come here.”

The thread of command, of yearning, in his tone snared her. She couldn’t ignore it. She rounded the table and looked up at him. This close, he was even more mesmerizing. And he smelled…he smelled delicious. His cologne teased her nostrils. Musky and woodsy and manly.

She stilled as he threaded his fingers through her hair and cupped her cheeks. And then his head descended.

His lips brushed hers. Just a soft, sweet buss, but it held a skein of promise, a hint of hunger and a tinge of desperation.

At her moan, he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth, pressing against her, consuming her. His taste, his essence, flooded her. Desire, wild and wanton, lashed her. Unbidden, a moan rose in her throat. He took it, swallowed it, gave it back.

He pulled her closer, flush against him. His body was hard and hot. Demanding. A trill of excitement rippled through her as she nudged the thick wedge of his erection.

Oh, she shouldn’t be doing this, kissing, consuming a man she barely knew like a lust-crazed wanton, but she couldn’t stop. And she kind of was. A lust-crazed wanton.

Something about this man curled around her sanity, her core, and sank in with needy claws. She’d kissed a lot of men in her life. But never a kiss like this.

He slanted his lips and took her from a new direction, molding his mouth over hers, teasing, nibbling, licking. She shuddered as his tongue dipped in. She met it with her own, then, unable to resist, gently sucked.

He reared back and stared at her. His eyes were rimmed with red, burned with desire. “God, Cassie,” he groaned, but didn’t finish the thought. As though he couldn’t resist, he kissed her again, but this time with a fiercer passion, one that made her muscles lock, her heart thud, her body melt.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, stroked his hair, then scored his scalp in a rake of need.

His fingers began to rove over her back, up to her nape, down her flank. He squeezed her buttocks. The pressure sent shudders through her.

And then, as he held her tight with one hand, the other skated to her breast, gauging her reaction as he gently cupped her. When she didn’t resist, when she wriggled impatiently in his embrace, he swept a thumb over her nipple.

Her body seized. Rivulets of pleasure washed through her, sending pings of absolute delight straight to her tingling clit. She couldn’t help it. She ground that nub against his hardness.

He growled.

Like the Highlander he was, he growled.

 

Dragonfly Kisses is available on Amazon

 

 

All About Sabrina York

Sabrina is an award winning author of erotic romance with over a dozen titles available, ranging from sweet & sexy erotic romance to BDSM to erotic horror. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york or Facebook.

Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on her webpage (www.sabrinayork.com) or explore on Amazon or at Ellora’s Cave and for heaven’s sake, take a gander at these awesome reviews!

All About Sabrina York

Sabrina is an award winning author of erotic romance with nearly a dozen titles available, ranging from sweet & sexy erotic romance to BDSM to erotic horror. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york or Facebook.

Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on her webpage (www.sabrinayork.com) or explore on Amazon or at Ellora’s Cave and for heaven’s sake, take a gander at these awesome reviews!

Other Books by Sabrina York

Adam’s Obsession (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Brigand (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave) —coming soon

Dark Duke (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave) —coming soon

Dark Fancy (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave)

Dragonfly Kisses: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary, Available on Amazon)

Extreme Couponing (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Five Alarm Fire (Erotic Contemporary for the High Octane Heroes Anthology, Cleis Press)—coming soon

Folly (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave)

Lust Eternal (Erotic Fantasy, Ellora’s Cave)

Pushing Her Buttons (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Making Over Maris (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave) —coming soon

Man Hungry (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Rebound: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary, Available on Amazon)

Rising Green (Erotic Horror, Ellora’s Cave)

Saving Charlotte (Erotic Contemporary for the Smokin’ Hot Firemen Anthology, Cleis Press)

Smoking Holt: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)—coming soon

Training Tess (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Trickery (Erotic Contemporary with Magical Elements, Ellora’s Cave Hex Line)

Tristan’s Temptation (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

 

Win Sabrina’s Tiara!

 

Sign up for the Royal Hotsheet (Sabrina’s Newsletter) to enter the tiara contest. Newsletter subscribers are eligible to win all coming contests as well as random giveaways.

Send an email with “Enter Me” in the subject line (this is erotica, after all) to sabrina@sabrinayork.com.

One entry per person.

Next drawing date: August 31

Refer Your Friends Bonus Entries
Tell your friends about Sabrina York, Her Royal Hotness. If they sign up for Sabrina’s Hotsheet you earn another entry, plus a chance at a Referrals Only drawing for more bling. (NOTE: They must tell me that you referred them in the message box so I can give you credit).

Good luck!!!

pretzels tiara

In addition to the above giveaway, Sabrina will be giving one lucky reader here both Rebound (book 1) and Dragonfly Kisses (book 2)  For a chance to win, just leave a comment below. Good luck!

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R&J2_Concubine_Boogloo_Cover-books-pageSometimes the biggest risk a lady can take is not battling an evil planetary emperor with questionable taste in muttonchops, but in baring her heart to the alien she loves. And his tail.

If you’re a bounty-hunting diva with a stellar rack, what do you do when an evil despot is hell-bent on your destruction?

Stage a coup of his planet, of course.

Juliet Lawrence’s plans for defeating King Bob the Nefarious are going better than her relationship with hunky alien ship captain Ragnar Manscape. Oh, the sex is great. His pecs and their laughs are top notch. The meeting with his parents goes… somewhat worse. It’s always a bad sign when your boyfriend’s folks choose the family spider over you.

The secret Juliet’s been keeping from Ragnar doesn’t help — uncomfortable conversations about “feelings” are not her forte. Fortunately, Juliet has lots of time to plot the downfall of King Bob’s intergalactic concubine slave trade once Ragnar unceremoniously dumps her.

Can Juliet defeat King Assface with the help of her computer genius ex-boyfriend Erit, their flying toilet, and her brand new nun habit? Will Ragnar leave Juliet to the space wolves or go along with her crazy plan to topple a government using hairpins with sparkly do-dads on the end? And can Juliet really have it all while maintaining bouncy, manageable hair? Find out in RAGNAR AND JULIET 2: CONCUBINE BOOGALOO, the sequel to RAGNAR AND JULIET

~~~*~~~*~~~

Available from:  Amazon.com, Liquid Silver Books, B&N, AllRomance.com, iTunes, Sony.

The setup:  Ragnar and Juliet have hit a rough patch, but Juliet’s plans to overthrow the evil, concubine-enslaving government of King Bob, ruler of New Los Angeles, proceeds despite their wounded hearts.  Erit and Pippy are their partners in freedom fighting.

The next day, Ragnar didn’t mention their conversation. Neither did Juliet. They tried to out-nonchalant each other until it was a wonder anyone stood upright.

The group congregated on the Compass, currently towing the Bobo and the D’ebonair, and proceeded apace toward New Los Angeles.

“So, what are we doing?” Pippy asked over a meal of sandwiches and beer.

“Oh! Crime,” Juliet replied with perhaps too much enthusiasm. “Dr. Martin Luther King, a great freedom fighter of Earth, once said ‘One has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust assholes.’”

Ragnar raised an eyebrow.

“I might, perhaps, be paraphrasing.”

“It’s called Calamity Concubines Cause Catastrophe,” Ragnar said between chews.

Erit, on the other side of the table from his favorite person, Ragnar, said, “What is?”

“The plan.” Juliet took a huge bite of Kantikan pork and jalapeno cheese on rye. It tasted better than it sounded. “Once upon a time Ragnar had great faith in my ability to be catastrophic.”

Her Alutian ex-lover’s eyebrows joined forces. “I just didn’t know your catastrophe would be so … direct. But I’m here now, aren’t I? Helping you write a terrorist threat to call into New Los Angeles so they ground their air traffic. I believe in the mission.”

“Mostly,” Juliet added helpfully.

Ragnar smirked and winked at Pippy, sitting beside him. “Mostly.”

It was true; Ragnar had come ’round to the idea of the mission. He couldn’t seem to decide about her, though. Oh, they were still kaput. But his gaze lingered over her with enough barely restrained heat to make her jittery with want. A meltingly gentle elbow caress to steady her here, a seductive sweeping of her hair from her eyes there. His seeming inability to treat her like an aloof friend was Karmic retribution.

She knew what she was missing. So did he.

She fidgeted, having trouble concentrating on the task at hand. When Ragnar stared at her across the lunch spread, her pelvis thought any minute now, he’s gonna lift my skirt! It was degrading to constantly teach your lady bits the finer points of unwanted celibacy. What if they went on strike? Even her favorite vibe had lost its appeal as of late. The situation was practically an emergency. She’d call out the intergalactic guard, but if its officers weren’t named Ragnar, she didn’t want to have cheap and dirty sex with them, no matter how snazzy their uniforms were.

He looked amazing today. He’d donned all black—black V-neck tee and tight, tight, tight black jeans. It was on purpose, the bastard. They’d enjoyed a picnic one time when he’d worn that same outfit. It was made from polymers that actually repelled grass sex stains. What a marvelous modern age they lived in. Why would he wear such a thing if he didn’t want her to notice and think dirty things?

“Let’s focus on being fake terrorists, okay?” she said.

“Actually, I believe we’re real terrorists,” Erit commented, drolly.

Juliet took another bite of sandwich. “Freewom fightews,” she grunted, her mouth full. She dragged the note pad to her, smearing mustard on it in the process.

 ~~~*~~~*~~~

For more information about Lucy Woodhull and all her books, visit www.lucywoodhull.com. And for a chance to win a digital copy of Ragnar and Juliet 2: Concubine Boogaloo, just leave a comment below.

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darkfancy_msrWhen Lady Helena Simpson flees an unwanted marriage to a revolting lord, she finds refuge in a humble gardener’s cottage. Cocooned and safe with James, a charming, handsome man unlike any she was ever known, Helena concocts the perfect solution to her problem. She asks—begs—James to ruin her.

Surely her betrothed will repudiate her if she is no longer pure. And if all her efforts fail and she still ends up married to a horrid man until the end of her days—she will, at least once, have known true passion.

But James is not all he seems. He is, in fact, a wicked lord with a dark fancy. When Helena awakens his desire, he becomes determined to take everything she has to offer, and more. No matter the cost.

 

~~~*~~~*~~~

 

Excerpt

James stared at Eloise, brave, proud, innocent Eloise. He could relate to the passion in her plea. He had a sudden desire to be released from a betrothal himself. He fiddled with the corner of his napkin. “There is always the chance your betrothed won’t care if you’re ruined.” Some men did not.

Her lashes fluttered. When they rose again, there was a look in her eye that sent lust coursing down his spine. It settled in his cock. “If I’m to be married to a bilious flounder of a man for the rest of my life, I should like to know passion just once. Just once, James.”

“J-just once?” His voice cracked.

Her smile blossomed. “Perhaps more than once.”

He had to laugh, although this was clearly no laughing matter. “My dear. I would be happy to oblige.”

“Excellent!” She clapped her hands with glee.

Unfortunate, that, because it made her look, once again, like a little girl. But then she picked up her cup and ran her pink tongue around the rim, lapping at the wayward drops. He reached for the second bottle.

She held out her cup for a refill. “You will need to show me what to do.”

He almost forgot to stop pouring. Hell yes. He’d love to show her what to do. He’d love to instruct her—in elaborate detail—what, precisely, to do. Something snarled in his belly.  His palm itched.

He forced down that decadent desire. Chained the beast.

For God’s sake. She was an innocent, a virgin. If he opened with that card, not only would she truly be ruined, she would probably hie off to the nearest nunnery and spend the remainder of her life in seclusion.

Oh, he would bed her. He would despoil and beguile her, but only in the very gentlest of fashions.

But his fantasies, the darkling imagery of what he would truly like to do, simmered.

“Are you…” He cleared his throat. “Are you ready for your bath?”

“Heavens, yes.” Once again, she clapped her hands.

The childlike gesture was off-putting since, at the moment, he was thinking of sinking his cock into her body and swallowing her moans with his mouth. But he liked her enthusiasm. It also made him desire—very deeply—to tie those hands to the bedposts. So she couldn’t clap them.

Why that thought made him salivate, he didn’t know.

Ah hell. Of course he knew.

Despite the lust snarling through him, he managed a modicum of chivalry, although it was perfunctory at best. “I’ll fashion a curtain.”

Her next words nearly unmanned him. “You don’t need to.”

“I b-beg your pardon?”

“You don’t need to bother with a curtain.” For a shy and demure innocent, she had something of a brazen streak. “I mean, if we’re going to…you know…”

“Make love?”

“Yes. If we’re going to make love, you will see me naked anyway.” A frown crossed her brow. “Won’t you?”

He chuckled. “Most certainly.”

“I thought so. But people are not very forthcoming when one asks about such things.”

“Really?” That had not been his experience in the slightest. Then again, she was a girl. The world sought to save and protect innocence. Until it ravaged it.

He did not know why he trembled as he poured the heavy buckets into the tub. He was a man of the world. Jaded and used to much more decadent fare than initiating virgins to the delights of the flesh. He should hardly be nervous about the prospect of having her.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t nerves. Maybe it was just pure, seething desire.

He had planned to seduce her—expected it to take hours of sweet whispers and furtive caresses. Never in his wildest dreams could he have anticipated this—that she would gaze at him across the dinner table and politely ask him to ruin her.

She was, altogether, a different kind of woman. Unlike any lover or mistress or professional girl he’d ever been with. And the prospect delighted him.

He swished his fingers in the water and added another bucket of cold to balance the temperature. He didn’t want her delicate skin burned because he was in such an all-fired hurry to get her naked. “There. Perfect.”

“Thank you, James.” Her voice was low, melodious. It sent a ribbon of pleasure through him.

“Are you ready?”

“I cannot tell you how ready.”

He swallowed. Yes. He felt the same. His pulse thrummed in his temple. And elsewhere. “Milady, your bath awaits.” He gave a great flourish, his gaze firmly fixed on her.

She reached for her hem and then stilled. “Could you turn around?”

Disappointment raked him. “Of course.”

“I’ve just never disrobed before a man before.”

“I understand.” Damn. Damn, damn and damn. He turned his back. Every rustle of fabric grated on him. He wished—oh so fervently—that Babbage had a mirror. He so would have liked to watch.

A small splash.

He winced. His pulse pounded. God. She was in the water. Naked.

She sighed. Moaned.

His cock lurched.

“Is it good?” His words were, at best, a strangled rumble.

“Oh yes. Yes.”

He had to look. He couldn’t not.

The sight he beheld was exquisite. Eloise had leaned back in the water to wet her hair. Her breasts, delectable pink islands in the sea, thrust up. The nipples were fat and hard, distended.

He swallowed around the tight ball in his throat. His nails scored his palms.

Though he was rooted to the spot, determined to give her some modicum of privacy, his imagination ran rampant. What he wouldn’t like to do to those tempting tips.

“James?” Her soft call wrenched him from a delirious fantasy. Her expression was tentative, shy, but he could see the light of determination flickering there.

“Y-yes?”

“Do you suppose there’s any soap?”

He blinked. Soap? He had trouble interpreting the word. His mind was occupied elsewhere. “Ah. Soap.” He rummaged around in Babbage’s cupboard, cursing himself for not remembering soap. He found a thick chunk of lye soap and brought it to her. How he hated that it wasn’t something more delicate. Something lilac-scented.

“Thank you.” She didn’t take his offering. Rather she peered up at him with those beautiful emerald orbs and said, “Will you wash my hair?”

His breath stalled. Would he? He fell to his knees at her side—unmindful of the puddles on the plank floor—and looked at her. Her nipples pebbled even more at his perusal. His mouth watered.

“James?”

He dragged his attention back to her face. “Y-yes?”

“My hair?”

God. Yes. He made a lather and scrubbed it into her hair. It was glorious, golden, smooth and silky. He worked the soap through the strands and as he did, massaged her scalp. She closed her eyes and groaned.

Thusly freed from her inspection, he allowed his attention to wander. He nearly expired when it lit on that tempting triangle of fair curls at the crux of her thighs. He imagined her touching herself there. Then imagined him touching her there. Then imagined opening her and stroking. Licking—

“James?”

“Huh? What?”

“Are you finished? I’d like to rinse.”

“Of course.” Reluctantly, he drew away. And she submerged.

This time he could not resist.

 

~~~*~~~*~~~

To find out more about Sabrina York and her books, visit sabrinayork.com. And for a chance to win a digital copy of Dark Fancy, just leave a comment below. Good luck!

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WhatOnceWasPerfectOption9medHeading home always stirs up mixed emotions for Laney Calhoun. Twelve years ago she left for graduate school, broken-hearted. She’s found professional success, but positive personal relationships have proved elusive. Running into her ex-boyfriend fans flames she thought long extinguished, and causes a renewed interest in love. Not with Kyle, of course. Never again. But as sparks fly and items of clothing disappear, she scrambles to keep her emotions in check.

Kyle Nixon let Laney slip away once. Their chemistry together is undeniable, but steamy sex is not enough to convince her to let him back into her heart. Even if she did trust him again, her medical career is five hundred kilometers away from the hometown that he loves, and the life that he once chose over her.

~~~*~~~*~~~

I have a confession to make: I’m addicted to stock photography. Well, I’m actually addicted to all kinds of photos, but the ones on Pinterest and Tumblr I only get to drool over (and a warning – my Tumblr feed isn’t safe for work or children!). Royalty-free stock photography has the potential to actually be MINE, and that changes everything.
Self-publishing is a bit like the Wild West right now, so it’s also an exciting rush when you find a photo that you’re pretty sure no one else has used in your genre…yet. But do you buy it now? What if someone else snaps it up while your book is in the editing phase?
I admit, I got attached to the cover photo for What Once Was Perfect far too early in the game. When I finished the book in February, I had a decision to make: submit it to publishing houses, or take on the business end of things myself and self-publish? A few good friends gently pointed out to me, after I had bought the stock photo and designed the first draft of the cover, that while my brain was still waffling about the decision, my heart had clearly chosen its path.
The photo that I bought isn’t exactly the same photo that’s on the cover today–after the first draft, it was universally agreed upon that the cover lacked colour, so adjustments needed to be made. And I agonized over how much to zoom in (and then out, and then in again). Designing a cover is about a heck of a lot more about grabbing a stock photo and slapping words on it–even for contemporary romance novels that look deceptively simple.
But for those of us that write stories about everyday people falling in love, the photo is pretty central to it all. And that’s why, when I need a break from writing and editing, I’ll flip over to my favourite stock sites and scroll through the new releases, looking for the perfect guy next door and the woman who can’t help but fall in love with him. Because when I find them, it’s pretty awesome inspiration to hurry back to the manuscript and get their story done.
Kyle and Laney’s happy photo was my desktop background for months before I released the cover design. I’m not quite ready to reveal the cover for book 2, but here’s a sneak peak at Karen and Paul, the couple currently fighting (and making up!) in my head:
TeaserBook2
In the meantime, pick up What Once Was Perfect at your favourite online bookseller, and sink into Laney & Kyle’s story. Karen makes two brief appearances as well!
Obviously, I love books with people on the cover. But I know that some people prefer to fill in those details themselves. Which do you prefer?
What Once Was Perfect is now available at:
***

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For the chance to win a digital copy of What Once Was Perfect, just leave a comment below. Good luck!

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UnbuttonedCarly Denton has learned to keep her buttons and emotions firmly fastened. Her parents’ constant drama, and an unrequited crush on her brother’s best friend, taught her to keep her passion beneath the surface. But she can no longer avoid the one man with the ability to bring that passion to a boil…

Lucas remembers Carly as a freckle-faced tomboy—not a frosty woman who treats him like a burr under her saddle. But when they have to work together on a charity project, Lucas is shocked to find their bickering melt into some serious mutual attraction. He’s determined to show Carly that he’s the man for her, if only she’d learn to let loose.

Lucas is the last man on earth Carly should give in to. The freedom she finds in his arms has her feeling happier than ever, but is it enough to make her realize that the greatest risk isn’t losing your heart, but losing the chance at happiness?

 

~~~*~~~*~~~

 

Hi, I’m Maisey. If you know me, chances are you know me for my slightly (ha) tortured billionaires who hail from Middle Eastern and Mediterranean regions of the globe. That’s kinda my thing. Or at least, it’s one of my things.

 

I love the glamour, angst and passion you find in a Harlequin Presents. It’s so rewarding to write. Cathartic in a way very few other things are. But…

 

I like cowboys. Yep. I do. Hot, rough, sexy cowboys who work hard and play hard. Who have rough hands and rougher language. (insert ‘riding hard’ joke here)

 

I’m a country girl. I’ve spent my entire life living in rural Oregon surrounded by mountains and trees. By cows and horses and allergens. (hay allergies are not the best thing to have where I live…)

 

But I digress.

 

Anyway, I have latent cowboy fantasies, that’s the important thing for you to know.

 

I’m not the only person who gets a little hot under the collar for cowboys. Carly Denton, the heroine of Unbuttoned, a novella and the first release in my Silver Creek series, has some cowboy fantasies of her own. But they’re most definitely for the wrong guy!

 

Her older brother’s best friend is a bad bet, and she knows it. And the very respectable Carly isn’t about to get down and dirty with a guy who might compromise the reputation she’s worked so hard to build. Or who could so easily break her heart!

 

Poor Carly really needs to get Unbuttoned. (See what I did there?)

 

I’m really excited for the Silver Creek series. It’s been really fun to write. For me, as a writer, I get a feeling of homecoming when I go back to the setting, and that’s what I want for people who read the books. They have lots of humor, romance, sex, cowboys and…marshmallow cereal because…you know, that’s how I roll.

 

One of the other things I love about writing this series is all the country music on my playlist. I like the way that country music tells a story. And in honor of that, my husband, who is awesome, wrote a song for Unbuttoned that I feel like really captures the story.

 

We recorded and sang it together and I want to share it here. I hope you enjoy!

 

~~~*~~~*~~~

For a chance to win a digital copy of Unbuttoned (to be gifted from Amazon or B&N on release day), just leave a comment below. Giveaway open to US residents only.

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9780451419712_large_Down_London_Road

Excerpt from Down London Road by Samantha Young. Copyright May 2013.

For the first two hours, I somehow miraculously managed to avoid Cam’s end of the bar. I worked at the opposite end and Joss worked in the middle. I chatted sporadically with her about nonsense anytime we were close enough to hear each other over the music. Braden, Ellie, and Adam came in and took their usual table directly across from us so that Braden and Joss could screw each other with their eyes. I, on the other hand, did a good job of pretending that my entire body wasn’t aware of every single move Cam made, of every wicked smile he flashed at an attractive customer, at the way his jeans cupped his bite- worthy ass every time he bent over for something, or that when he reached up for a new bottle of Jack Daniel’s his T- shirt rode up, to show a slab of taut abs.

It was just pure muscle under there.

I wondered what it would be like to have him stretched out naked on a bed, his hard body and golden skin laid out for me to savor. I would start with the sexy V cut of his hips, licking along the definition, pressing wet kisses up his sculpted torso, then flick his nipples and feel him harden against me—

Jo!”

I jolted out of my daydream, spilling the fresh orange juice I’d just taken out of the fridge. I gaped at Joss, my cheeks flushed with embar­rassment.

She was gazing at me with a quizzical smile. “You were gone for a minute there. Where did you go?”

The red in my cheeks deepened and I cast a quick look at Cam, who was busy serving a customer. I was thankful for the low lighting that hid my cherry red cheeks, but unfortunately Joss must have caught the embarrassment in my eyes and the quick, not so surreptitious look I’d shot Cam. She glanced down the bar at him and then back at me. “Oh, okay.” She grinned.

New York Times bestselling author Samantha Young is a 27 year old book addict who graduated from the University of Edinburgh.  She lives in Scotland.  Visit her online at:

samanthayoungbooks.com

Twitter.com/SYoungSFAuthor

www.Facebook.com/OnDublinStreet

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4167378.Samantha_Young

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Down London Road revised artwork

 

The blurb:

Johanna Walker is used to taking charge. But she’s about to meet someone who will make her lose control….

It has always been up to Johanna to care for her family, particularly her younger brother, Cole. With an absent father and a useless mother, she’s been making decisions based on what’s best for Cole for as long as she can remember. She even determines what men to date by how much they can provide for her brother and her, not on whatever sparks may—or may not—fly.
But with Cameron MacCabe, the attraction is undeniable. The sexy new bartender at work gives her butterflies every time she looks at him. And for once, Jo is tempted to put her needs first. Cam is just as obsessed with getting to know Jo, but her walls are too solid to let him get close enough to even try.
Then Cam moves into the flat below Jo’s, and their blistering connection becomes impossible to ignore. Especially since Cam is determined to uncover all of Jo’s secrets…even if it means taking apart her defenses piece by piece.

After a life filled with abuse, Johanna has no self-worth. She knows she’s pretty and uses that to try to provide security and stability for her little brother’s future. When she meets Cam, there is immediate sexual attraction but she is dating Malcolm, a wealthy older man whom she cares about. Cam jumps to the wrong conclusion about her and Johanna finally stands up for herself. As Cam starts to realize his mistakes, their attraction builds until it’s undeniable.

I’ve never read a book where a heroine had as much personal growth as Johanna. Watching her realize her own worth was amazing and the author managed to bring me along on that emotion-filled journey. By the end of the book, I loved Johanna. And that brings me to my one big drawback with the book. I connected so much with her that when Cam says something incredibly hurtful and basically crushes Johanna, I felt it with her. At that point, she thinks:

I hated him. Right then, I actually physically hated him.

I was right there with her. I hated Cam and wanted nothing more than for her to dump him. Of course, they worked it out but this happened so late in the book that I didn’t have the chance to fully forgive him before I got to the end.

For the most part, I enjoyed this one. It was full of emotion, angst, and sexual tension.

 

3.5 stars

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 7, 2013
Format: Digital and print

Order:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble

 

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