Rapturous #Release #Blitz: Papa’s Desire’s by Sue Lyndon & Celeste Jones

Papa’s Desire’s

Sue Lyndon & Celeste Jones

Free on Kindle Unlimited

Be a good girl for Papa.

Twenty-two year old Hyacinth is finally getting married. She eagerly looks forward to life with a papa who will love and care for her. She hopes he will be a patient teacher, since no one will tell her what actually happens between married people. Fortunately, her friend Cammie has sent a letter with some explanations in it. However, Hyacinth can’t help but wonder if Cammie is making up tales.

Men have what? And they put it where?

A chance encounter with the exceedingly tall and handsome Lord Grayson gives Cynny a funny feeling in her lady parts and she starts to wonder if there’s some truth in her friend’s rather explicit letter. But, why is Cynny thinking about Lord Grayson in that way, instead of her betrothed, Lord Kensington?

When a twist of fate results in Cynny marrying Lord Grayson instead of Lord Kensington, she is both nervous and overjoyed. Her new papa gently introduces her to the secrets of the marital bed and awakens desires she never expected. He’s as loving as she imagined a papa should be, but he’s also strict and won’t hesitate to redden her bottom cheeks when she’s been a naughty little girl, among other intimate punishments that leave her both blushing with shame and craving his touch. As time goes on, she cannot help but think that she has been truly blessed and a lifetime of love and happiness awaits her.

But what will happen when Papa discovers his little bride has been keeping secrets?

Publisher’s Note: Papa’s Desires is the second book in the Little Ladies of Talcott House series, however like all the books in this series, it can be enjoyed as a standalone title. This historical age play romance novel includes spankings, sexual scenes, and other delightful naughtiness. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
BUY LINK ->-> http://mybook.to/papasdesires


“Keep holding your cheeks apart for Papa.” He slid the plug deeper, and deeper still.

She moaned in needy desperation when he gave it one last firm push and left it submerged in her tightness, not withdrawing it for another plunge.

“You may release your bottom now and place your hands on the bed, little one. But don’t stand up. You’re to stay like that for several minutes while the plug stretches you out.”

After a deep breath, she let go of her backside and shifted on the bed, clutching the covers as time began to pass ever so slowly. What she wouldn’t give to feel him stroking her clitty or pushing his fingers into her aching kitty. She tried to remain still, but her hips kept jerking forward as she sought to put pressure on her quim. With her legs spread apart, it was the only manner in which she might relieve the throbbing in her womanhood. She doubted Papa would approve, but she now heard him walking around his bedchamber and even crossing into her room, where she heard him order Mrs. Hennely to supervise the preparation of a bath.

When she thought Papa was still in her room, she thrust her center against the bed three times in quick succession, and she sighed at the pleasure and relief that wound through her. Sometimes when her papa gave her a bath, he stroked her kitty and made it feel good, even giving her a release while she rested on her hands and knees in the water as he prepared to cleanse her privates with a warm wet cloth. She hoped he gave her such attention in the bath this morning. She rocked forward once more, standing on her tiptoes in the process in order to drag her clitty over the edge of the mattress. Ripples of euphoric warmth spread through her, and she couldn’t help but repeat the motion over and over again, careless of whether or not footsteps were approaching, she was becoming so lost in the pleasure that she lost her ability to focus on anything but curing the sweet agony that was mounting between her thighs.

Smack! Smack!

She gave a startled cry and immediately went still, then chanced a look over her shoulder to find Papa glaring at her. With his neckcloth loosened, his jacket removed, and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick muscular forearms, she couldn’t help but stare in adoration. Even if he was probably going to spank her again.

“Sorry, Papa,” she said. “My kitty feels achy and my bottom hole feels…achy too. And I feel as if I’ve contracted a fever, I am most unsettled.”

“I think, given your lustful reaction to the plug filling your hiney hole, that perhaps I should have used a larger one.” He delivered five more swats to her backside that had her gasping and clutching the covers harder, the smacks making her ever aware of the intrusion in her bottom. “However, your bath is waiting and I don’t want the water to get cold. Tomorrow during your anal training, do not feign surprise when I use the next size up.”


USA TODAY bestselling author Sue Lyndon writes steamy D/s romance in a variety of genres, from contemporary to historical to fantasy. She’s a #1 Amazon bestseller in multiple categories, including BDSM Erotica and Sci-Fi Erotica. But no matter the genre, her heroes are always HOT dominant alpha males. She also writes non-bdsm sci-fi romance under the name Sue Mercury. When she’s not busy working on her next book, you’ll find her hanging out with her family, watching sci-fi movies, reading, or sneaking chocolate.

Social Media Links
Website http://www.suelyndon.com
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSueLyndon/
Twitter https://twitter.com/SueLyndon
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Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Sue-Lyndon/e/B006A8J6KG/

**Get FREE reads when you sign up for Sue’s newsletterand never miss a freebie, sale, or new release: http://eepurl.com/bV2Ek5 **


USA Today bestselling author Celeste Jones is known for writing highly entertaining erotic romance featuring headstrong heroines and stern yet loving heroes who aren’t afraid to take a naughty woman over their knees. When she’s not writing, she enjoys travel, reading and dancing like no one is watching.

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Bombastic #BookBlitz: Watching You by Leslie A. Kelly

Watching You
Leslie A. Kelly
(Hollywood Heat #1)
Published by: Forever Yours
Publication date: March 13th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

In the first book of a thrilling new romantic suspense trilogy, USA Today bestselling author Leslie A. Kelly shows just how hot – and how dangerous – Hollywood can be.

In the shadows, someone is always watching

Aspiring screenwriter Jessica Jensen grew up on movies starring heartthrob Reece Winchester, the eldest brother of a Hollywood dynasty. She never thought she’d meet the man in person, though. Actor, director, millionaire, and gorgeous mystery man-he’s every woman’s fantasy.

Reece wants Jessica the moment he sees her, and he’s a man who always gets what he wants. At first he was only after a night in her bed, but as he comes to know the smart, confident woman beneath the stunning exterior, he realizes once will never be enough.

Unfortunately, Jessica’s real-life Cinderella story is about to take a deadly turn…

Reece’s world is filled with fierce ambition and dark family secrets the Winchesters desperately want to hide. But he and his brothers aren’t the only ones who know those secrets. Someone else is out there, waiting to strike. Waiting-and always watching.

When danger finally steps out of the shadows, Reece will have to face his past. And Jessica will have to decide just how far she can trust the man she loves with her heart…and her life.

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Copyright Leslie A. Kelly

Please do not reproduce without permission from the author.

“I’m wondering,” he said, lifting a hand and brushing his fingertips against her jaw, his thumb rubbing against her bottom lip. “Why did she disguise your beautiful face?”

Completely shocked, she couldn’t reply for a moment. Her jaw fell open, and she stared up at him, wondering how he could sound so certain. He wasn’t trying to tease the truth out of her, he sounded like he was absolutely sure she’d modeled for the piece, when in truth, there was no way he could know. She had no tattoos, no distinguishing marks, nothing made her body any different from any other woman’s. He had to be guessing.

But she knew he was not.

“Who told you?”

Liza wouldn’t. She just wouldn’t. But maybe she needed to show Sharon the model release forms, one of which Jess had signed. Might Reece have seen it?  

“Nobody told me,” he said, sounding utterly truthful.  

“Then how could you know?”

He raked a hot gaze down her body. “How could I not?”

“You…you recognized me?”

He nodded. “The minute I saw the statue.”

She gulped. “No one else ever has.”

“No one else sees you as clearly as I do.”

Wow. Great line. Only, she didn’t think it was a line. He sounded totally serious.

“I’ll repeat the question,” he said. “Why the secrecy? Why did she hide your face?”

Licking her lips, Jess wished she had brought a drink with her. Her mouth was so dry, and it was so darned hot in here. Well, it wasn’t hot in the room, but the heat he put off was melting her like she was a Hershey bar left on a dashboard.

“She didn’t need my face.” Trying to lighten the moment, and cover her embarrassment, she forced a laugh and looked away. “Wanted only for my body. Story of my life.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, his tone forbidding. “Don’t mock yourself.” He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to look directly into her eyes. She quickly fell back into wild, hypnotic Reece-land where thought didn’t exist and there was only action and reaction, motion and emotion. “She wanted your face. Didn’t she.”

It wasn’t a question. And Jessica didn’t try to deny it.

“Why did you say no?” he asked, dropping his hand. She immediately missed its warmth, which was crazy since she’d just been mentally whining over how freaking hot it was in here.

“I guess I didn’t want the notoriety. I’m trying to be taken seriously as….” Realizing if she said she wanted to be a screenwriter he might assume she was about to go all Hollywood on him and launch into a script-pitch, she changed direction. “I mean, I work at a bar and already have to fend off grubby men with grabby hands. The last thing I’d want is for any of them to see that piece, recognize me, and decide to be more persistent with their attention.”

His jaw flexed, as if he was gritting his teeth, and the eyes narrowed. “They touch you?”

“Perils of working in a place called Hot Buns.” Seeing his confusion, she added dryly, “We don’t sell burgers, and we wear short shorts.”

He got it now, and the jaw tightening thing got worse. “Why?”

“Why do I work there?”

A nod.

“Girl’s gotta eat.” She gestured toward the statue. “Look at those thighs, I’ve obviously gotta eat a lot.”

His eyes narrowed. “I told you not to do that anymore.”

She gulped. He was deadly serious, as if he had the right to give her orders. It was cave-man. It was unacceptable.

It was kind of hot.

“Self-deprecation doesn’t suit you. You have to know you’re beautiful.”

Good Lord. Reece Winchester was telling her she was beautiful? And he sounded like he really meant it? She knew she was sexy. She had assets and knew how to flaunt them. But nobody had ever called her beautiful.

Now Liza? Oh yeah. Her sister was soft, fragile. Any guy would look at her and think, “She’s so lovely.” Jess? They’d think, “I’d do her.”

Author Bio:

Leslie A. Kelly is a New York Times bestselling author who has written more than fifty books in various genres. She currently writes contemporary romances under the name Leslie Kelly, and dark thrillers as Leslie A. Kelly.

She is the author of the futuristic Veronica Sloan thriller series, and of the dark romantic suspense Black CATs series.

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Rapturous #Release #Blitz: Daughter Of The King by Ashley York

A mistaken identity. A gruesome murder. The uniting of two powerful clans.
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Award Winning Author Ashley York
Daughter of the King
Series: The Derbfine Series Book 3
Genre: Historical Romance
Publication Date: March 17, 2018
A mistaken identity. A gruesome murder. Was it self-defense? Or Regicide?
Trained as a warrior, Brighit of Clan Cruadhlaoch despises the trappings and demands of womanhood…
Selfish dreams need to be set aside for the good of the clan, but a shocking murder only causes more turmoil. Especially as she stands accused. With no one else to turn to, can Brighit find escape in the arms of her new husband or will he require she reveal her inner most secrets?
Darragh of Clan MacNaughton is expected to follow his father into kingship but has little desire for the coveted title…
His willful wife is another matter. He has great desire for her. Despite her denial, he sees her womanly virtues and it sets him afire to know her, both body and soul. Will she resist his overwhelming need to possess all of her?



“That’s the problem with prevarication.”
“Prevarication? When did I ever lie to ye?”
“When ye fluttered yer lashes and begged me not to tell yer father.”
“It works for the other lasses, why not me? They get whatever they want. All the lads begging at their feet, telling them how beautiful they are—” She averted her gaze. “—and they’re not so very beautiful.”
Darragh managed to subdue his grin.
When she finally turned back, her expression had softened. “I do not normally prevaricate.”
He crossed his arms about his chest. “If ye say so.”
“I do say so. Ugh!” She blew an irritated breath. “I canna convince ye when ye won’t believe what I say.”
Brighit’s nose flared in irritation just before she shook her head in a most defeated way. The idea came to him in a flash, and Darragh smiled at his own thought before sharing it.
“A kiss. A kiss will convince me.” He half expected her to slap his face for even suggesting such a thing.
Only she didn’t. Her eyes widened, and she glanced at his lips before wetting her own. She was excited by the idea. Could it be she’d never been kissed before? He’d bet his favorite horse she had not, not with Sean as her father.
“Ye are willing then?” Her look told him she was not only willing but eager. With the slightest movement, he slipped his hands beneath the mantle to graze his open palms up her arms until they rested on her shoulders. Her lips glistened and the vein in her neck throbbed. With a low voice, he asked, “Would ye seal our agreement with a kiss?”
The sharpest tip of her head, barely a nod at all, but Darragh would not quibble. He slid a hand from beneath the heavy material to tunnel it under her thick, silky hair and cup her neck, the skin there still cool from her swim.
She leaned in, meeting him halfway. His mouth slanted across hers, a gentle caress, before he slipped his tongue between her parted lips. She gave as good as she got, deepening the kiss to where he was no longer certain who was doing the kissing. He was glad he hadn’t wagered his horse on her inexperience, though mayhap she was simply an extremely fast learner.
Without warning, she released him and backed out of his hold, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. Her heaving chest matched his own.
He reached for her. “Brighit, I—”
She raised a hand, shaking her head, and put more distance between them. It was a long time before she spoke again. “We will wait the fortnight.”

About Ashley York

Ashley York

Award-winning author Ashley York writes historical romance full of passion and intrigue set in 11th and 12th century Ireland, Scotland, and England where life was wild and survival was never guaranteed.
Whether it’s in the mysterious ring forts of Éire, the Scottish Highlands, or the battle fields of Hastings her characters fight hard and play hard. Good or evil, primary or secondary, they all evoke strong emotional responses.
Passionate about history and research, York may tweak some historical facts (like the location of the Baron’s Rebellion), but the flavor of the time is undeniable. With heroes and heroines you’ll want to read about again and again, her stories are fresh and unpredictable but still finish with a satisfying HEA.
Join Ashley York’s Newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/p0z9z5
Social media links: Facebook | Twitter


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1. $10 Amazon Gift Card
2. One set of The Derbfine Series (3 eBooks)

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Rapturous #Release #Blitz: Lost Ones by Nicole French


Title: Lost Ones
Series: Bad Idea Series #2
Author: Nicole French
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 14, 2018


Six months ago, I gave my heart to a girl.

Beautiful, kind, and sexy as sin, she’s the only person who saw past my record or the color of my skin. Who ever saw me for me.

She loved me enough to let me go, let me leave this city to find my own path.

But without her, I drift, lost without direction.
Without me, she spirals, desperate for connection.

I gave my heart to a girl, and she gave hers to me.

But love shouldn’t hurt this much.


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Author Bio
Nicole French is an East Coast/West Coast hybrid creature, Springsteen fanatic, hopeless romantic, and complete and total bookworm. When not writing or teaching about writing, she is hanging out with her family, playing soccer with the rest of the thirty-plus crowd in Seattle, or going on dates with her husband. In her spare time, she likes to go running with her dog, Greta, or practice the piano, but never seems to do either one of these things as much as she should.
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Compelling #ChapterReveal: Careless by Michelle Horst

Available via Kindle Unlimited

Irony – when life f@cks you over.


She’s the one girl I can’t forget.
She’s as innocent as a saint, with the mouth of a sinner.
After taking her virginity, it’s taken me four years to get rid of the guilt.
I used her while she was at her lowest and she’s never forgiven me.
Watching my best friend die a little every day, and not being able to do anything about it, kills me.
I should’ve seen it coming. The second I hit rock bottom, she walks back into my life.
The f@cking irony?
She might be the only one who can save Marcus.
The life of the person who means the most to me lies in the palm of the girl I screwed.


Hate is a strong word, but it’s one I’ve really considered when it comes to Jaxson West. But I’ve settled for intensely disliking him. It’s similar to the way I feel about visiting the dentist.
Asking me to forgive Jaxson, is like asking me to willingly sit through a root canal.
He’s heartbreakingly gorgeous, emphasis on heartbreakingly.
He’s an amazing friend, just not to me.
He’s supportive, understanding, caring and loving, just not to me.
No, for me he reserves his dark scowls and low growls.
I’ll do everything I can to save Marcus, but I’m not doing it for Jaxson.

Jaxson West & Leigh Baxter ~ Book 3 in the Enemies To Lovers Series

This is a Stand Alone book in the Enemies To Lovers Series. Each book in the series is about a different couple. To get the full experience of their friendship I’d recommend that you start with Heartless.



Five years ago…
The bottle slips from my fingers, clinking as it lands on top of the small pile of empty beer bottles already gathering underneath the hammock I’m relaxing on.
“It’s your turn to get beers.”
Drowsily, Marcus closes his eyes. “I’ll go get some in a minute.”
I melt into my own hammock and sigh sleepily.
“This was the best idea you’ve ever had. I’m going to park my ass right here the entire weekend.”
During the week, Marcus came home with five hammocks. So far we’ve only put up two of them, which was an accomplishment in itself, if you ask me. The three leftover hammocks are still lying in the living room.
“Do you think you’ll be able to fuck while keeping your balance on this thing?” I ask, without opening my eyes.
Damn, this is the life. Me and Marcus, all the beer we want, and the sun all fucking day long.
“Don’t know. You can try it out sometime and let me know. It takes ten minutes just to get my ass settled in this thing,” Marcus murmurs.
Yeah, it’s only a matter of minutes before he’ll be fast asleep. Come to think of it, an afternoon nap isn’t such a bad idea. It will give me more energy for the party we’re having tonight.
I glance over at my best friend and grin. He’s lying with both legs hanging off on either side of the hammock.
“Dude, you look uncomfortable, lying like that,” I laugh.
He doesn’t answer at once, and I’m starting to think he’s asleep when he mumbles, “Free-Fucking-Balling. There’s a nice breeze on my balls.”
“Cool,” I grin, as I move slowly so I don’t tip the damn hammock. When I have my legs hanging off the sides, my grin grows. “Fuck, you’re right.”
Marcus laughs lazily. “The wind’s blowing us, dude.”
Everything is about sex when it comes to my best friend. Not like I’m one to talk. It’s as if our minds have a direct link to the gutter.
We’ve been friends since diapers. Our moms were best friends as well. At least, they were until Mr. Reed killed Mrs. Reed. That was one fucked-up day. Marcus was only ten and his sister, Summer, had just turned six the previous month. To this day, no one knows the reason Marcus’ dad lost his shit and shot his wife, daughter, and son, before turning the gun on himself.
Fortunately, the bullet missed Marcus’ heart by a ball hair. Summer and Mrs. Reed died instantly. It happened during our summer vacation so luckily, I could stay with him every day until he got released into Mom’s custody. He had no other family and besides, she was his godmother.
Logan might be my twin, but after the shooting, Marcus and I became inseparable. We might have been close before he lost his family, but during his stay in the hospital, it was as if I became everything in his life.
Those first few weeks he wouldn’t talk to anyone but me. Mom made him see a psychologist, but that didn’t help much either. He became detached from everyone and everything. I was the only one allowed to see behind the walls. I was the only one he didn’t pretend with. I comforted his broken heart suffering from the loss of his mom and sister. I held him as he cried because he didn’t understand what had happened. I took the blows when he was overcome with anger at his father. I took it all – the good, the bad, the broken – without fail. I took it all, so he didn’t have to carry the full weight of his fucked-up past alone.
After the shooting, Mom changed as well. The horror that took place in the Reed’s home rocked the whole community, but after a while, things slowly returned to normal, and people stopped talking about it. Where Marcus turned into himself, Mom seemed to be all over the place, as if she lost her balance in life. The friendship between her and Mrs. Reed reminded me a lot of what Marcus and I had. After Mrs. Reed died, Mom unraveled right before our eyes. She’d gone from mother-of-the-year to fucked-up mess at breakneck speed.
At first, it was little things. She’d spent entire nights sitting outside while finishing a bottle of wine or three. She grew impatient with us, her once loving demeanor being replaced by a snapping tone and cold glare.
It got worse after our thirteenth birthday. I was the first one to go through a growth spurt. Knowing I couldn’t go to Mom about the hair making its appearance on my face, I went to Mr. Hayes. He was the only father any of us had. Even though he worked his ass off, he always had time for us. Honestly, we spent more time at Carter’s house, than anywhere else.
Mr. Hayes was amazing. I mean, fucking amazing. He was never too busy for us. He’d go out of his way to show every single one of us how much he cared. He never missed any of our firsts. The first day of school, first games, first driving lessons—he was there for everything. He was the only solid in our constantly changing lives.
The memory of how he taught us to shave will always be one of my favorites.
It was early one morning after Mom had left for a well-deserved day at the spa after a night of heavy drinking. I was relieved to find that Mr. Hayes hadn’t left for the office yet. After I asked him if he could show me how to shave, he took off his tailored suit jacket and proceeded to roll up the sleeves of his expensive shirt. When he had the five of us standing in front of the mirror, he placed razors and shaving gel in front of us. He made sure to remove all the blades from the razors so we could practice first.
He started with Carter, spending time with each of us, making sure we knew what to do. I was last in line, for which I was grateful because it gave me time to watch as he showed the others. I still remember Mia sitting on the side of the tub, pulling her face as she watched us.
Rhett and Mia were the first to move in with Carter and Mr. Hayes after their parents died. That was a blow to us all. Rhett and Mia had the best parents, and their sudden death caused Marcus to have a setback as well. It was a reminder of what he had lost, opening up his scabbed over wounds.
Mom wasn’t close to Mr. and Mrs. Daniels. She didn’t have any sympathy for Rhett, who she always referred to as that friend.
I don’t like that friend of yours.
You’re spending too much time with that friend.
I don’t want that friend here. You’re all working on my last nerve.
That only led to Logan, Rhett, and Carter spending all their time at Carter’s place, and avoiding our house at all costs.
I was doing my best to help Marcus deal with the nightmares that had started again. He wasn’t confused and angry like he was at the age of ten. Hell no, he was bottling it all up, and I was scared what he’d do the day he exploded.
That’s when the verbal abuse started. I wasn’t sure why she targeted me. Maybe it was because I was the first one to show signs of becoming a man. I’m just thankful she hadn’t set her sights on Logan or Marcus. I never fought back out of fear that she would lay into them instead.
She walked in on me while I was shaving and the usual blank stare she gave me quickly turned to one of rage.
“You look just like him,” she whispered, her voice sounding as tight as a piece of string that was about to snap.
Logan and I weren’t identical twins. We had the same dirty blonde hair and brown eyes, but that was it. I was taller than him, and my features were harsher. Logan was the pretty one with the killer smile where I was abrasive and argumentative. Logan was the friendly, light-hearted brother, and I—I was the careless, cynical one.
That’s another reason why Marcus and I were such a great fit. Marcus was ruthless and at times downright derisive towards others. He was the oil to my fire.
“You’re the spitting image of your father.”
I’d gotten used to the cold and vacant look in her eyes, but I’ll never forget how her mouth pulled down that day. She looked at me with disgust.
“You think I don’t see it, but I do. You and Marcus are narcissists, just like your fathers. You’re poison. Your father killed me, and Robert killed Stella. It’s sickening to know there will be a day you will both do the same to some poor girl.”
The words didn’t hurt half as much as the gleam in her eyes. I’ve been on the receiving end of disappointed and angry looks, plenty of times in my life, but never the ‘I-wish-you-were-never-born’ glare. It felt like I stopped being her son that day.
After that, she took a swing at me every chance she got.
You’re pathetic.
You’re just as spineless as that good-for-nothing father of yours.
I should’ve gotten rid of you when he left. Now I’m stuck looking at your face every day as a reminder that he left. One day you will leave too.
It’s weird how things played out after that.
I should’ve seen it coming, but hell, I had just discovered the magical effect a pair of tits had on my dick.
Mr. Hayes wanted to take us all to New York for the summer break. He was taking over a business there. I’ll be the first to say I was worried about it. If he decided to move, it would pretty much leave me, Marcus, and Logan screwed. It would tear the group in half.
He invited Mom over for dinner so he could discuss the trip with her. After dinner, they walked to the study so they could talk privately, while we went outside to swim. It was hot out already, and it was only the start of summer.
After spending some time in the pool, I needed to use the restroom. Mr. Hayes wouldn’t be too happy with me if he caught me watering the garden, so I dried off and ran inside the house.
I should’ve stayed outside. You never hear anything good when you eavesdrop. As I walked past the study, Mom started yelling.
“How can you sit there, looking so calm as if it didn’t happen? Your wife and my husband ran away together, leaving us with the kids. I’ve spent the best years of my life raising those boys. I’m almost forty, and I have nothing to show for my life! I’m done sitting at home, watching as my life passes me by.”
I felt a weird mixture of shame and anger brewing in my chest. I was embarrassed that my mother was talking to Mr. Hayes like that, and I was pissed off that she was so selfish. Then the part of my father running off with Carter’s mother sunk in, making me feel sick.
I heard a chair scraping over the wooden floor, but no footsteps came towards the door, so I kept listening.
“Are you even listening to the words coming out of your mouth, Judy? You have two amazing sons. What about them?”
“I don’t care. Your wife ran off with my husband. If you had kept an eye on her, it wouldn’t have happened. I have my trust fund. You can keep your monthly allowance. I don’t need it. I’m done wasting away in this pathetic town.”
“You’re really going to abandon your sons? What about the promise you made to Stella that you’d always take care of Marcus?”
“She’s been dead for six years. I was a different person when I agreed to be his godmother. They’re sixteen, Christopher. You can either take them or they can take care of themselves. I’m done playing mother to those boys.”
I heard Mom’s high heels on the hardwood floor and ran for the restroom. Just as I slipped inside, the door to the study opened.
“I won’t stop you, Judy, but make it a clean cut. Walk away right now. I’ll keep the boys here tonight and take them home tomorrow to pack their stuff. I want you out of that house by the time I get there with them. I won’t make this harder for them than it already will be.”
“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.” She didn’t storm off like I expected she would, but instead whispered, “You’re a good man, Christopher. They’ll be happy with you.”
I leaned my head back against the wall as I listened to her footsteps die away.
She left without saying goodbye.
The next day Mr. Hayes took us home to pack our stuff, after having told us that Mom was okay with us spending the summer with him.
I never told anyone about the things she said to me, not even Marcus. I wasn’t sad that she had chosen to leave us. Actually, it made it easier for me to hate her. It made it easier to pretend around Logan.
A few weeks later, Mr. Hayes sat us down and explained that our mother wouldn’t be coming home soon. She was taking some time to travel. He really did his best to break the news to us gently. Marcus and I got up and went to shoot some pool. To me, it was just another day.
Logan, on the other hand, took it hard. He looked like a zombie as he walked out of the office. Mia smiled when she saw him, took one look at his face and hugged him. I left Logan with Mia so she could comfort him.
It was during our senior year that I struggled to control my anger. I joined a gym so I could punch the shit out of a punching bag and lift weights until I was too tired to care.
That’s when Marcus started the Screw Crew list. He made it his mission to add as many names as he could to it.
So for the last few years, Marcus has been doing his best to fuck his demons away, while I’ve been trying to exercise mine away.


“Seriously! You do know what it means to take a break, right?” Willow watches me with her hands on her hips, her blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
We could’ve been sisters, instead of best friends. We both have blonde hair and brown eyes. Willow is a head shorter than me and has a heart-shaped face which you can’t help but stop to admire. I’ve been told I’m pretty but being skinny and tall with an oval-shaped face, I’m not drop-dead gorgeous. Looks never bothered me, though, because I’ve always been a bookworm.
“I am taking a break,” I mumble while keeping my eyes on my laptop’s screen.
Saying I’m a bookworm might be scaling it down a bit. I’m addicted to the written word, although my passion lies with cardiac surgery. I inherited the obsession from my parents. Being the only child of two of the most admired cardiothoracic surgeons in the states, it was a given that I’d follow in their footsteps.
Willow plops down next to me and leans closer so she can see what I’m busy reading.
“You call this taking a break?” she asks, giving me a look that clearly says our definition of the term break is vastly different.
Willow’s the only person who’s been a constant in my life. I have an amazing relationship with my parents, but with their busy careers and my studying, we don’t get to spend a lot of time together. Willow keeps me grounded.
When I graduated school at thirteen, Willow was determined to stay friends with me even though I’m a year younger than her. During my first year at Boston, we kept contact by facetiming at least three times a week. What I love most about Willow is that she never treats me any different just because I have a high IQ. I still think if it weren’t for the fact that Willow and I were neighbors before I started at Boston, I never would’ve made a friend. Being privately tutored at home didn’t exactly give me many opportunities to interact with other kids, and there wasn’t any time to make friends once I started school. I did my best to try to break the record of becoming the youngest doctor in the US, but I missed it by two years. Now my heart is set on becoming the youngest cardiothoracic surgeon.
Dad and Mom forced me to take a six-month break before starting my six-year integrated cardiothoracic surgery residency program at USC. I’m only halfway through my forced vacation, and I’m already feeling antsy. The thought alone of starting my residency makes my heart race with excitement.
“I’m reading an article on postoperative physiotherapy. It’s interesting. It’s like when you read those fashion magazines you love so much.”
She slowly shakes her head, giving me a look that closely resembles pity.
“Only you would think boring medical articles can compete with the latest fashion trends. You, my friend, are in desperate need of fun.”
“But –” I glance from my laptop screen to her, then back to the really interesting article about a survey they did in Sweden rating the effectiveness of physiotherapy after cardiac surgery. “This is fun.”
She shakes her head again, and her facial expression clearly says my relaxation time is up.
“I’m afraid all the studying might have done permanent damage to the fun section of your brain.” She shakes her head, really getting into her role as the doctor. “You, Miss Baxter, are in dire need of a party. I prescribe a full forty-eight hours of drinking and dancing.”
I scrunch my nose, certainly not in the mood to go to parties the entire weekend. Before I can argue she holds up her pointer finger.
“No arguing. It’s of utmost importance that we immediately start with treatment, before the fun section of that genius brain of yours, shrivels and dies.”
I can’t help but grin at her. “You should’ve gone into medicine with me. You’d make a great doctor.”
She pulls a face, shaking her head.
“Hell no, I’d kill all my patients. Fashion is my passion. While we’re on the topic of fashion…”
Willow grabs the laptop and closes it before pulling me up along with her.
“Go shower and put on the dress I made you. Don’t you dare put up your hair in that god-awful bun. It makes you look like a nun who escaped from a convent.” She pulls a face as my eyes dart to the messy bun on top of her head. “I’ll curl it for tonight. You’re nineteen, not ninety.”
“You’re really going to make me go, aren’t you?”
She grins, a wicked gleam in her eyes which promises no sleep in my near future.
“I only have you for another three months before you start your residency. I get a feeling I won’t see you for the next six years. Hell, I’m taking full advantage of my time with you.”
Willow is right. I’ll be working my butt off over the next six years. I want to make a difference in this world, especially when it comes to heart transplants.
I go through the motions of showering and washing my hair. While I leave the conditioner in for a few minutes, I quickly shave. I can’t wear the gorgeous dress Willow made when my legs are so hairy. After rinsing the conditioner out, I grab a towel and pat my body dry before wrapping my hair in it. When I rub lotion all over my body, I inhale deeply. I’m addicted to the sweet, rich fragrance of jasmine.
Walking back into the bedroom I share with Willow, I’m not surprised to find her waiting.
“Let’s do your hair. I’ll shower while you’re putting on your makeup.”
There’s no use in arguing with her, so I take a seat at the vanity. Willow gets busy blow-drying layer by layer of my hair. As I sit and watch her hands move, I think about how lucky I am to have her as a friend.
She shares the apartment with two other girls. I’ve spent some time with Evie, whom I get along with. I can definitely see myself staying friends with Evie once I leave. I haven’t seen much of Della, but she seems nice.
When Willow is busy massaging styling wax into my hair so it won’t go frizzy, I ask, “You mentioned a party? Will Evie be going as well?”
Willow wipes her hands on the towel I had around my hair while admiring her handy work.
“Yeah, she’s already at Carter’s place. We’ll meet her there.”
“Carter? He’s friends with Rhett, right?” I’m still trying to remember names, never mind who fits in where in their social circle.
“Yep, you’ll meet all of Rhett’s friends tonight. Carter is an asshole, so just make sure you stay out of his way.”
My eyebrows almost dart into my hairline. The fact that Willow thinks the guy is an asshole says a lot. She’s the kindest person I know.
“Okay,” I agree, although I’m curious why she doesn’t like him.
“Come to think of it, just stick to my side tonight. I don’t want any of the Screw Crew getting their hands on you.”
“Why are we going then? If you don’t like any of them, we can do something else.”
Like, stay at home.
I can think of a couple of things I’d rather do than go to a party.
“We’re going because it will be fun. Besides, it’s not that I don’t like them. They’re just too wild and tactless for you. They’re fun to hang out with, but you seriously don’t want to end up in bed with one of them. Believe me when I say they will try. They have this thing going to see who can screw the most girls.”
Worry lines instantly cover my forehead.
“I really don’t think I should go. You know I have zero experience with guys. I wouldn’t know who’s being nice and who’s playing me even if my life depended on it.”
“You’ll be okay. We’ll stick together, and they won’t try anything with you as long as I’m by your side.”
Curious to find out more, I ask, “Have any of them tried to get you into bed?”
Willow scrunches her nose. “Only Marcus has tried. Ugh, he’s the worst of the group.”
I don’t miss the blush creeping up her neck as she quickly leaves to go shower. There’s definitely a story there.

We’ve been here twenty minutes, and I’m ready to go.
I can’t dance so I avoid the makeshift dance floor at all costs. The living room is packed with students, some drinking while others are already drunk, and most are in various stages of making out.
Suppressing a yawn, I decide to go outside for some fresh air. I avoid going near the pool which is surrounded by party-goers. The last thing I want is to be thrown in the pool. It would ruin the beautiful dress Willow made me. I smile as I look down at the pale green, silky fabric. She made me a shift dress which might be a little too short for my taste, but it fits perfectly otherwise.
I spot a table with drinks and make my way over to it. I’m surprised the table isn’t crowded with students. When we got here, we couldn’t even get into the kitchen where the drinks were.
When I notice only sodas on the table, I understand why it’s practically deserted. I pour coke in a red solo cup and watch as the tiny bubbles fizz to the top.
“You want ice?” a deep, gravelly voice says from behind me, which startles the hell out of me. I drop the cup, and it falls to the ground, causing soda to splash all over my legs and sandals.
“Damn it,” I groan as I step away from the mess at my feet. I bend to pick up the now empty cup, seeing as the contents are all over me when I hear the voice behind me again.
“And here I thought it would take some foreplay to get you wet.” From the laughter in his voice, it’s clear he thinks my accident is hilarious.
“You must be one of the assholes, thinking it’s funny that I messed all over myself,” I snap as I place the cup on the table and turn around, getting my first look at the guy.
I freeze like a deer in oncoming traffic as I take in the perfect specimen of everything that’s male, standing in front of me. Even though his smug smile makes my anger grow, I can’t help but drink in the sight of his dreamily carved, scruffy face. Don’t even get me started on his hair which is a few shades darker than mine, disheveled and sexy.
Ugh. Double shit.
“You must be one of those bitches, unable to take a joke,” he says as the smile around his full mouth curves into a wicked grin which only makes him hotter.
Damn it. Why does he have to be so incredibly attractive? It messes with my ability to think, which has never happened to me before.
“I can take a joke,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I watch as he pours soda into a cup. He holds it out to me, one eyebrow raised. Not even thinking, I take it from him and as our fingers touch briefly, a shiver races over my body.
To make matters worse, as I’m about to take a much-needed sip, he takes hold of the hem of his shirt and yanks it off his body in one smooth motion.
My mouth drops open as my eyes dart over his chest, wildly trying to drink in every inch of tanned skin and muscle. Damn, he might have a shitty attitude, but his body sure makes up for it.
He grabs a bottle of water which he pours out over my legs and feet. My brain is screaming at me to slap the smirk right off his gorgeous face, but my traitorous body won’t move a muscle.
“Sit,” he says. His voice a mixture of playful and raspy, making flutters erupt in my stomach.
Placing his hand on my shoulder, he pushes me lightly back, and my body, ever the traitor, goes where it’s being guided. The back of my knees hit the edge of a chair, and I sit down.
I want to say something clever that will put him in his place, but my mind has clearly taken a hiatus, leaving my hormones in control of this situation.
He reaches for my left leg, and slipping the sandal from my foot, he starts to dry my leg with his shirt.
I can’t stop myself from staring at his well-toned back and broad shoulders, fascinated by each muscle rippling when he moves. When he’s done with my left leg, he repeats his actions with my right leg. Only, this time his left hand slips up until it reaches the back of my knee while he keeps drying my already dry leg.
I clear my throat to get his attention. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get my voice back with all the tingles zapping upwards to my lady parts, from where he’s touching me.
“There you go, all dry,” he says as he stands up. He looks down at me as he throws the shirt over his shoulder. “Run along now, your mother must be worried.”
“Huh?” I grunt as if my IQ dropped to a miserable zero.
“Pretty little things like you shouldn’t hang out at parties. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
Finally, a flicker of my intelligence returns along with my temper. I push myself up from the chair, not that it helps as I barely reach his shoulder.
He flashes me a confident grin, his eyes dropping to my feet before slowly making their way up my body. I don’t miss how they rest on my hips and breasts for a few seconds too long before they settle on my face.
I’ve never been so blatantly checked out in my life before, and it makes a dreaded blush creep over my cheeks.
“That’s right, my eyes are up here,” I say so he’ll know that I know he was ogling me. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m nineteen. I’ve practically been living on my own since I was thirteen. Also, I do not appreciate you calling me a pretty little thing. Women aren’t things.”
Feeling proud of my ability to string a few sentences together, I smile triumphantly.
“Jax, stop harassing my friend,” Evie suddenly says behind me, which makes me swing around from surprise. I recognize Rhett, but I haven’t met the other guy with them.
“Your friend?” Mr. Too-hot-to-have-a-personality asks. Thanks to Evie, I now know his name is Jax.
I feel him move behind me and I hate that my body is aware of him. His arm presses against my shoulder and my sandals appear in my line of vision.
I do my best to ignore the fact that I almost forgot them, and snatch them from his hand. I drop them to the floor and quickly slip them onto my feet.
“Yeah, my friend, which means she’s off limits.” Evie hooks her arm through mine and pulls me closer to where Rhett’s standing. “You’ve met Rhett, and this is Carter Hayes. They live here.”
Smiling, I reach out a hand to Carter. “Leigh Baxter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
We shake hands as Willow joins us, followed by another guy who looks like he’s about to kill someone.
“Sorry, I leave you alone for ten minutes and the wolves descend.”
“Wolves?” Rhett asks with a playful smile on his face.
“Yeah, wolves. Leigh’s parents would kill me if any of you corrupted their daughter.”
“You’re carrying on as if the pretty little thing is fucking royalty?” Jax says from behind me, sounding a little offended. I also don’t miss how he accentuated ‘pretty little thing’ as if he’s already caught onto the fact that I hate it whenever he says it.
“You could say that,” Evie says. She looks to Carter. “Dr. Baxter, your dad’s heart specialist, is her father.”
Instantly, a cloud moves over Carter’s face as if Evie just spat at him instead of introducing me.
“In that case, she’s off limits,” Carter bites out. He grabs my hand and starts to pull me away from the growing crowd gathering around us. “I’ll take her back to the apartment. Willow, are you coming?” It doesn’t sound like a question but more like an order.
More common sense seems to return to my frazzled mind, and I yank my hand free from his grip.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I seethe as my anger quickly burns through my body now that my focus is no longer on Jax.
“You shouldn’t be here, Leigh. Your father will kill me. I’ve heard him talk about his little girl. I’m not pissing off the man who might have his hands inside my dad’s chest one of these days.”
I throw my hands in the air, actually dumbfounded by how quickly the night went downhill.
“You know what,” I say as I start to walk towards the side of the house, “I don’t want to be here. Why the hell I’m torturing myself like this is beyond me.”
I keep walking, not looking back to see if Willow is coming. I’d rather sit outside the apartment for the entire night than spend another second here.


Michelle Horst is a Bestselling Romance Author who likes her books hot, dirty, and with a touch of darkness. She loves an alpha hero who is not scared to fight for his woman.

Want to be up to date with what’s happening in Michelle’s world? Sign up to receive the latest news on her alpha hero releases, sales, and great giveaways → http://eepurl.com/cUXM_P

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Rapturous #Release #Blitz: Whispers In The Dark by LeTeisha Newton


I was captured…That’s just the beginning of my tale. I’ve survived Purgatory, abuse, and near death. In that abandoned farmhouse I nearly lost everything, but Jacob saved me. We were trapped in this hell together, giving each other the strength to hold on. I fell into darkness with my captor’s son.Until I left him behind.She was perfect, my Alana. Brilliant and full of pain. She understood my darkness and fueled the fire. When she left, I waited patiently to find her, and in her honor, I killed men who took away from innocents. Then I found her…She’s deadly now, a killer too, and perfectly mine. It was beautiful to behold, but she belongs in a cage. My cage. She’ll love me again, or I’ll expose her dirty secrets for the world to see while going down in flames with her. In darkness, it’s most definitely till death do us part.


Warning: This book is full of triggers. It’s wicked dark, with created evil falling in love. People die. They are hurt horribly. The bad guys get away, and there is no apology for it. Hardcore trigger within these pages.


Leaving me to my misery, Master and the doctor left the room to speak in harsh whispers in the hallway. Curling myself into a ball, I kept crying harder and harder until I was gasping for breath. Master threw a glare my way before leading the doctor far away from my room.
The pain, the loss, shot through me like I was taking a bullet to the heart. How could I have done this? How could I put my precious little one through something this awful? I was as bad as Master. I was a monster like him. Crying harder at my thoughts, my eyes caught on the doorway in time to see someone peeking in. My body relaxed in one great whoosh. Jacob was here. He slipped into the room and crept into the bed with me. Ignoring the blood and filth on the towels, for the first time, Jacob took me into his arms. I curled into his chest, inhaling his clean, crisp scent through the tears.
“I’m sorry, Alana. I couldn’t get here sooner, and I can’t stay here long. He’ll come back soon.”
It didn’t matter. He was here now, and I clung to him, curling my fingers into his shirt and holding on desperately. In his arms, the pain dulled, and I could handle it. I could cry into his chest and be held. I could be fragile, and he’d catch the broken pieces. His lips trailed up the side of my neck, soft kisses that pushed away the agony and warmed me.
“You can do it. You’re strong enough. Hold on a little longer,” he whispered into my skin. I believed it because he did too.
So I lifted my face so his lips could touch mine.
Soft and warm, his mouth was different. He slipped over the scars of my abuse and filled in the cervices left behind. Maybe it was the medicine making me fanciful, but I thought I could ask for this. That maybe I would ask him to take me. That I’d like to have him. But then, he was pulling away.
“I have to go. I’ll be with you later. Look for me.”
And as fast as he’d come, he was gone, but the pain was behind a wall, one he’d built high. He gave me strength, and I would use it to survive. I’d done the right thing, as horrible as it was, and I knew he didn’t judge me for it. We’d done this together, and it made the load easier to bear. Master stomped his way back into the room, face scarlet and chest heaving like a locomotive. I wanted to cringe at his bald fists, but I couldn’t move. I was too tired, or too resigned maybe, to care.


Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha Newton’s love of romance novels began long before it should have. After spending years sneaking reads from her grandmother’s stash, she finally decided to pen her own tales. As many will do during their youth, she bounced from fantasy, urban literature, mainstream, interracial, paranormal, heterosexual, and LGBT works until she finally rested in contemporary romance.
LeTeisha is all about deep angst and angry heroes who take a bit more loving to smooth their rough edges. Love comes in many sizes, shapes, and colors, as well as with—or without—absolute beauty and fairy tale sweetness. She writes the darker tales because life is hard … but love is harder.



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Bombastic #BookBlitz: Tokyo Heat by A.M. Salinger

Tokyo Heat
A.M. Salinger
(Night Series, #3)
Publication date: March 13th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

I want him. I love him. But I don’t know if he feels the same way about me — Gabe

I cherish him. I need him. But I don’t think I have any love left to give him — Cam

A year has passed since Cam Sorvino challenged Gabe Anderson to grant him one night of torrid sex. Now living together and settled in a scorching hot relationship, Cam is happy with things as they are. Until the day Gabe says the three little words Cam is most afraid to hear.

Having overcome the terrible scars of his own past, Gabe knows Cam still has his own demons to fight. But when Gabe inadvertently confesses his love, he can only watch helplessly as Cam distances himself from their relationship.

Will Cam’s fear of having his heart ripped apart drive away the only man he’s ever truly cared for? Or will Gabe finally convince Cam to dare embrace a future with him?

Find out if Gabe and Cam find their happy ever after in this third novella in the hot, contemporary romance series Nights by A.M. Salinger. Note from the author: although each book in Nights can be read as a standalone, you will enjoy this series better if you read the books in order!

This is a novella length MM Romance with a HEA.

Goodreads / Amazon



Gabe gave his inbox a final glance, logged off, and rose from his desk. He glanced out of the panoramic windows to his left as he shrugged into his suit jacket.

Dusk cast red and orange streaks across the sky above Tokyo, the light washing through the glass and painting amber shadows on the crisp white walls of his office. He looked at his watch, cursed under his breath, and grabbed his bag.

He was five minutes late.

Gabe’s gaze collided with a curious stare as he turned toward the door. A man with dark blond hair and blue eyes stood watching him, one shoulder propped against the frame.

“Got plans for the weekend?” he drawled, cocking an elegant eyebrow.

Gabe smiled, hoping his restlessness didn’t show.

“Yes, I do.”

Rhys Damon studied him for a moment longer before letting out a sigh.

“Ah, to be in love and shacked up.”

Gabe felt his ears grow warm at his boss’s teasing expression.

“I wouldn’t go as far as that,” he mumbled.

“I thought you’d moved in with him,” Rhys said, surprise flashing in his blue gaze. “What’s it been? Six months?”

“I did, and it’s been six and a half,” Gabe muttered.

Not that I’m counting.

He swallowed a groan at Rhys’s sudden sly grin.

“I just sent you the final plans for the Hudson resort,” Gabe said. “Let me know—”

Rhys!” someone suddenly barked from across the expanse of the open-plan office space outside.

They turned and stared at the hulking, dark-haired man standing in the doorway of a glass room on the opposite side of the floor. Wade Tucker—the other brain behind the incredibly successful, multi-award-winning Chicago-based design firm currently taking Tokyo by storm—scowled at Rhys.

Rhys grimaced.

“It seems the big bad wolf has awakened.” He glanced at Gabe. “Quick, run before he sinks his teeth into you too.”

Gabe hurried toward the elevator and glanced over his shoulder at the two men facing each other stiffly across the empty office. He doubted he was the only one who had noticed the increasing tension between the firm’s partners over the last year.

Best friends since their college days, Rhys Damon and Wade Tucker had followed in each other’s footsteps throughout their early careers, often as rivals bidding for the same contracts. They’d finally set up shop as Damon & Tucker. Twelve years on and their company was now among the top twenty in the business for luxury interior design, consulting, and branding, catering to some of the most exclusive resorts and hotel chains around the world, as well as affluent private clients.

All thoughts of his bosses’ woes fled Gabe’s mind when he exited the lift and entered the lobby of the glass-and-steel edifice that housed the Tokyo branch of the firm.

A man stood leaning against a navy-blue Jaguar saloon parked at the curb outside, hands tucked in the pockets of his tailored suit and powerful legs crossed at the ankles. He seemed oblivious to the stares he was drawing from the passersby and office workers leaving the building, his eyes focused on the foyer.

Although the car was a stunning piece of art and engineering, Gabe knew it was its dark-haired owner who had captured the avid interest of the men and women openly ogling him.

Gabe’s pulse jumped when he met the man’s gunmetal stare through the glass wall. He still couldn’t quite believe that he was going out with Cam Sorvino, the king of one-night stands. His gaze dropped from Cam’s stunning face and full lips, to his stubbled jaw and hard physique.

Nor can I believe I’ve had sex with that gorgeous body.

Heat warmed Gabe’s cheeks when he recalled the last time they’d shared a bed.

It had been over a week ago, a fact that had obviously frustrated Cam as he barely let Gabe sleep that night. His job as an asset manager for one of the biggest investment firms in Asia had taken him to Singapore for most of the last month and he only returned to Tokyo on the weekends, often late on Saturday afternoons.

Though Gabe loved nothing more than being in Cam’s arms, he knew the commute was taking its toll on his lover, which was why he’d asked Cam to fly back early this week.

Cam’s gaze grew heavy-lidded as Gabe crossed the sidewalk and approached the car. Gabe knew that if it wasn’t for the people around them, Cam would have pulled him into his embrace and kissed him senseless. Gabe stifled a sigh, somewhat grateful for their audience.

Once they started touching each other, there would be no stopping them. And Cam’s libido had turned voracious as of late, his appetite not even remotely quenched until they’d had at least four rounds of toe-curling sex and Gabe’s voice was hoarse from crying and moaning in pleasure.

“I’ve packed us a couple of overnight bags, like you instructed,” Cam said in a smoky voice that sent tingles down Gabe’s spine as he opened the passenger door of the Jag. “So, where are we headed, Mr. Anderson?”

Gabe slipped onto the cream leather seat and waited until Cam climbed in beside him before giving him the address of the place he’d booked them in for the weekend.

Cam raised an eyebrow.

“The beach?” His lips curved. “Does this mean I get to see you in swim trunks?”

Gabe’s pulse skittered at the passionate gleam in the gray eyes watching him.

“It’s a hot springs, so, no.”

Cam grinned.

“Even better. You’ll be naked.”

Gabe rolled his eyes as Cam started the engine and steered the Jag around.

Although the drive to the Izu Peninsula took over two hours, the time flew by while they chatted about their week, soft jazz music playing from the speakers as the vehicle ate away the miles.

Cam’s eyes widened when he drove into the paved courtyard of the traditional Japanese inn sitting on the small spur of land jutting out from the coastline, the headlights briefly illuminating the golden stretch of sand leading to the Pacific Ocean. He parked the car, his gaze lingering on the open vista before switching to Gabe.


Gabe smiled, a flutter of excitement sending his pulse racing at the night he’d planned for them.

“I’m glad you like it.”

They collected their bags from the trunk and headed for the entrance.

Cam hesitated when they reached the porch, his hand on the handle of the front door.

“You didn’t design this one too, did you?”

Gabe blinked. His ears grew hot as he suddenly recollected the exclusive Tokyo hotel where they’d first made love a year ago. It was where he’d also rather splendidly lost his cherry to the magnificent man beside him. Gabe’s cock twitched as he thought of that night. Though sex with Cam always blew his mind, their first time together was incredibly precious to Gabe.

It was Cam who had finally helped him overcome the trauma of his past, when he’d nearly been raped by five men who’d paid his then boyfriend to tape their vile acts on camera, leaving him unable to sleep with anyone for over eight years despite regularly seeing a therapist. The gentle yet passionate way Cam had made love to him that time, how Cam had engraved his touch and scent on Gabe’s body until he utterly and completely lost himself in the act, how he’d brought Gabe to one earth-shattering climax after another—all of it were priceless memories Gabe would take to his grave. Not that he would ever admit this to Cam.

Gabe chuckled at his lover’s guarded expression.

“No, I didn’t design this place.”

Relief flashed across Cam’s face.

“Good. I’d seriously feel as if I were committing blasphemy otherwise.” Cam sniffed. “Not that sex with you isn’t the most unholy, wicked thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. I mean, there’s some stuff we’ve done that I—”

“Shut up, Cam!” Gabe hissed, clamping a hand over Cam’s mouth as a hostess headed across the foyer toward them.

Cam grinned and licked Gabe’s palm. Gabe swallowed a groan at the tingle that shot through him.

This erotic asshole.

Tokyo Heat Teaser

Author Bio:

Ava Marie Salinger is the pen name of an Amazon bestselling thriller author who has always wanted to write scorching hot contemporary and erotic romance. In 2017, she finally decided to venture to the steamy side. NIGHTS is the first of several sizzling series featuring sweet, sexy men and women with dark pasts and a whole lot of love to give to the ones brave enough to fight for their hearts. When she’s not dreaming up hotties to write about, you’ll find Ava creating kickass music playlists to write to, spying on the wildlife in her garden, drooling over gadgets, and eating Chinese.

Want to be the first to know about Ava’s new releases and get access to exclusive content, sneak previews, sales, and giveaways ? Then sign up to her Reader Group here: https://www.amsalinger.com/subscribe/

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Bombastic #BookBlitz: The Renovation: A Reverse Harem Novel by Mika Lane

The Renovation: A Reverse Harem Novel
Mika Lane
Publication date: March 11th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance

I don’t believe in fairy tales and I don’t waste time wishing for one. I learned long ago that luck smiles on the—well, lucky—and that the rest of us can just go to hell. So when my boyfriend ran off and left me with a bunch of debt, I knew better than to wish for a miracle. But then one came my way, in the form of four—count ’em four—hot, sexy men. But as luck would have it—or wouldn’t have it, in my case—I couldn’t have a single one of them.

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I had to admit, he was adorable in that Clark Kent/Superman sort of way with short, tidy hair, and somewhat nerdy glasses. I could just see the tip of a tattoo peeking out from his shirt collar and several closed up piercings on his ears. Was he a closet bad boy?

He was looking at me like he wanted to say something else. Like he knew me in a way that was impossible considering we’d barely had one conversation, let alone discussed anything meaningful.

Carter was so…strong and self-assured. That’s what it was. He seemed like he’d never be afraid of anything. Like if something bad came his way, he’d find a way to handle it. I needed someone like that on my side.

While positioned behind me, he whispered his fingers over my throbbing core, with only the lace of my panties keeping him away from my searing flesh. I wiggled into his touch to increase his pressure and to also let him know I wanted more. Yeah, more.

It was nasty, and naughty, and I loved it.

One of his hands held his cock still, and with the other, his fingers gently pried me open. I felt pressure at my opening, and bounced lightly on him while I got used to his girth. He was fucking huge, stretching me to capacity, and then stretching me some more. He rocked his hips to get more deeply inside me, and I threw my head back and moaned.

He pulled my shirt open and sat back, looking at the white lace of my bra, trickling his admiring gaze over my trembling body. The way he looked at me, like I was the most beautiful woman on earth, was so fucking hot, I had to put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. He stood up and turned me around, unzipping the back of my skirt and pushing it down my hips until it hit the floor in a puddle around my feet. I started to kick off my heels.

“No. Keep them on,” he growled from behind me.

I could make some lame excuse and walk away from them all, go back to my shitty little house, and wait for the fucking bank to come and kick me out. But I was tired of letting life just happen to me. It was my turn to make shit happen, and everybody better get out of my fucking way.

Of course, I wanted to go to my fucking house. Or his house. Or anyone’s house. Whichever was closer. How about behind that dumpster over there, in that alley?

Author Bio:

Writing has been a passion of Mika’s since a young age (her first book was “The Day I Ate the Milkyway”), but erotic romance is now what gives purpose to her days and nights. She lives in magical Northern California with her own handsome alpha dude, sometimes known as Mr. Mika Lane, and an evil cat named Bill. A devotee of the intelligent and beautiful, and lover of shiny things, she’s a yogi, hiker, traveler, thinker, observer, and book worm. She has been known to drink cheap champagne and has way too many shoes.

A National Reader’s Choice Awards finalist, Mika always deliver a hot, sexy romp, often with imperfect characters, and a promised happily ever after (or at least happy for now).

She LOVES to hear from readers, and can be found at http://www.mikalane.com, and facebook.com/mikalaneauthor, when she’s not dreaming up naughty tales to share.

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Compelling #ChapterReveal: Crux Untamed by Tillie Cole


A broken woman.
A damaged man.
A free spirit intent on saving them both.

Elysia ‘Sia’ Willis lives a solitary life. The only person in it is her big brother, Ky, vice-president of the infamous Hades Hangmen. She loves him, but she has absolutely no love for the outlaw MC he belongs to.
Raised in secret by her mother, Sia grew up separated from her brother and distant father. No one knew she even existed.

After the tragic murder of her mother, Sia spiraled into a rebellion against the rules of the Hangmen. A rebellion with dire consequences that now, years later, she still can’t escape.

As she lives once again in secret, happy on her own at her secluded ranch, a devil from her past comes calling. A devil who wants to possess her once again and take her from the simple life she never wants to lose.
And he will stop at nothing to collect what he believes is his: her.

Valan ‘Hush’ Durand and Aubin ‘Cowboy’ Breaux have finally found a home in the mother chapter of the Hangmen. The notoriously private Cajun twosome have, for now, put aside what chased them from their beloved Louisiana. But as threats toward the club build, Hush and Cowboy are given a task—protect Elysia Willis at all costs. Cowboy welcomes the job of watching over the blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty.
Hush fights against it.

Scarred by events from his past and a secret that plagues his everyday life, Hush refuses to let anyone else get close. Only Cowboy knows the real him. Until a certain sister of the club’s VP begins to slowly knock down his defenses, shattering the heavily built walls that guard his damaged soul . . . with his best friend leading the charge.

As lost and open hearts begin to meld, taking each other from indescribable pain to the never-before felt relief of peace, the newly-mended threesome must first endure one more rocky path.
Only then will they finally shake free of the shackles of their pasts.
Only then will they shed the bonds that have for too long held their happiness captive.
And there is only one way to survive that path . . . together.

Dark Contemporary MFM Romance. Contains scenes of violence and explicit sexual situations. Over 18’s only.

High Ranch, Austin, Texas
Present Day

“Steady . . . steady . . .”
Sandy’s ears flicked back and forth as she heard me soothe her from my place in the center of the ring. I kept my newest mare’s training rein loose as she trotted on the sand. Her coat was lathered with sweat; so was my forehead. The sun was burning a hole in my jean-clad ass.
“Okay, enough for today,” I announced, both to Sandy and myself.
I had just fed her with hay and water and locked her stall door when I heard the all too familiar sound of motorcycles roaring in the distance.
Frowning, I headed out of the barn. I walked to the front of my house and spotted two Harleys as they approached my door.
Styx and Ky, I realized, giving them a surprised wave.
They didn’t wave back.
I perched on the top step of my porch as they pulled to a stop and flicked out their kickstands. Ky smoothed back his long hair and strode toward me. I got to my feet. “What y’all doing here?”
I hugged Ky. He held on a little too long. It was weird. I pulled back, curious, only for him to look out to the distance, checking around my ranch. I was about to ask him what was up when Styx came toward me and gave me a brief one-armed hug.
“Hey, Styx. How’re Mae and Bump?” A flicker of a smile graced Styx’s lips.
“Good,” he signed, but my attention snapped back to Ky when my brother said, “Get inside, sis. We need to talk.”
He grabbed my elbow and guided me forcefully up the porch steps. “Hey!” I said. He pulled harder, not releasing my arm. “Hey! Dickhead!” I wrenched my arm back. I turned on my heel to meet my brother’s moody-ass face. “What the hell are you doing?”
“For once in your fucking life, will you just do as I say, Sia?” Ky said, exasperated. His face was red . . . in fact, so were his eyes.
I crossed my arms across my chest. “What’s wrong? Why are your eyes all bloodshot? Why do you look like shit?” I shook my head. “And more to the point, why are you handling me like a damn child?”
Ky sighed. His eyes closed, and he opened his mouth to speak. But then he didn’t . . .
Styx cleared his throat. “Been a stressful time lately.”
“Why?” I asked, immediately panicked. “Is Lilah okay? Grace?” I quickly checked my brother over for wounds, or . . . hell, I didn’t know what else. What the hell trouble bikers could get into. “Are you okay?”
My heart started pounding, some weird sense of dread seeping through my body like a poison. Ky opened his eyes and nodded. “Everyone’s fine.” But I could see through his pretense. I was just about to call bullshit when Ky blurted, “Garcia’s back.”
I was sure the warm wind was blowing, because I saw strands of my blond hair floating in front of my eyes, but I didn’t feel it. Ky’s mouth was working, saying something I was meant to hear, yet to my ears, he made no sound. I was lost to the memory of heavy footsteps on creaking floorboards as they approached my room. Memories of screams and barked orders scourged my mind . . . and his touch, his fingers running down my back, his lips nipping at my ear as he caressed my burned flesh. As—
“Sia!” Ky was holding my arms, shaking me from my stupor. I blinked, but a suffocating lump clogged my throat. I blinked fast to rid the flood of tears from my eyes. “Sia,” he repeated, softer this time. I stared at my brother, wordlessly. “Get inside.”
I let him lead me into my home and to the couch. A glass of whiskey appeared in my hand a second later, courtesy of Styx. I knocked it back in one, relishing the burning feeling that filled my chest. I shakily placed the glass on the coffee table and turned to look at Ky.
“You better?”
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s . . . he’s found me?” My voice was choked. I couldn’t have hidden my fear even if I’d wanted to.
“Not yet,” Ky assured me. He got to his feet and began to pace. “Some club shit went down a while ago, and Garcia was involved. Fucker saw me and Styx.” Ky met Styx’s eyes. Styx nodded. Ky removed an envelope from the pocket of his cut. He placed it before me. I stared at the obviously expensive stationery on the table. My hands shook as I slowly reached forward and opened it. A Polaroid picture peeped out. When I finally pulled the picture out and turned it to face me, every ounce of blood in my veins seemed to drain to my feet.
A single black rose.
A black rose, on a bed I recognized so well.
There was no note. No explanation. But I didn’t need one. This image spoke more than a thousand words ever could.
“Mi rosa negra,” the echo of his voice whispered in my mind. His heavy Mexican accent sliding around the words like a delicate silk scarf wrapped around a thorn-studded vine.
All of the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “Where . . .?” I cleared my throat. “Where was this sent to?”
“The club.” Ky slumped to sit beside me. “Don’t like the cryptic shit”—he pointed to the Polaroid—“but I know that it’s his brand or something, yeah? The one he forced on you? On the girls he traffics?” I instinctively ran my hand over the plaid shirt covering my shoulder, where the small black rose tattoo had once desecrated my skin. I could still feel the scar under my fingertips, out of sight but never gone. And if I ever dared show my bare skin to the sun, a white outline would form as the area around it tanned. Erased, yet forever seared into my very flesh.
Worse still, the longer I stared at that picture, the more someone else flickered to my mind, a face I reflexively recalled several times a day. Brief images of what might have happened to her. But only ever enough to taunt me; I didn’t know how to mentally unlock the rest. Where she was—
“Sia!” Ky called. I blinked into focus. My brother kneeled in front of me. “You’re coming home with me.”
I shook my head. “No.” My arms wrapped over my chest, a shield to fend off the thought of leaving. “I don’t want to.” I swept my eyes around my home. The only place I now ever felt safe in. “You know I can’t leave.” Ky went to speak, but I cut in before he could. “I know I went to y’all’s weddings. I wouldn’t have missed them for the world. But I can’t leave here for too long. I . . . I . . .” I searched for more of an explanation, to put into words the vapid stream of anxiety forming in my stomach like a black pit, stealing all of my courage, my reason, my sanity, my very being.
It was ironic: when I was a teen, I made a vow to leave Austin and stop all contact with the Hangmen.
Then, one escape . . .
That was all it took to make me wish I had never set foot outta Texas. Never cut all ties with the Hangmen.
And one man . . .
One man, named Garcia, to make me long for the lazy Texas days and the sound of horses’ hooves padding on the grass outside of my old bedroom window.
“I don’t give a shit if you wanna come or not, Sia. You’re coming, and that’s that.”
The lack of empathy in Ky’s outright order broke through the mental fog that shielded my inner thoughts. A fire ignited the kindling that lived within me. My chin tilted high and my eyes narrowed to stare at my brother. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Kyler Willis. Don’t mistake me for a club whore who’ll jump at your command.” Ky’s face reddened. But I wouldn’t be spoken to like this. Right now, my brother resembled the one man who’d treated me like an errant child. A man I blamed for all the shit in my life. “I love Lilah, I truly do. But I am not some meek and submissive woman who’ll accept your orders. I’m your sister, not your fucking lapdog.”
Ky slowly rose to his feet. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
“Does he know where I live?” I asked my brother. He didn’t answer. “I said, does Garcia know where I am?”
Ky’s eyes snapped open. “It’s only a matter of time.”
I got to my feet, ignoring the shaking of my legs. I boldly met Ky’s eyes. “Then I ain’t leaving my ranch. I’m hidden. I’ve been hidden for years. False identity. False deeds on this place. For Christ’s sake, I live in the fucking boondocks. No one around for miles. He ain’t making me leave my home. I won’t give him that satisfaction.”
“Think again.” Ky stood taller. “Get upstairs and pack a bag, and tell that young bitch we hired to help you that she’ll be taking care of things around here ’til you’re back. Tell her there’s a family emergency or some shit.”
My heart pumped faster. “I. Ain’t. Going. Clara can’t deal with everything herself. We have two mares in foal, two saddle broncs that need training. I’m needed here.”
We argued back and forth, back and forth, voices and tempers rising, until a loud whistle cut through our squabbling. I snapped my eyes to Styx, who was standing before the fireplace. His face was like thunder, and he looked like a fucking Titan, he was so huge. He raised his hands. “Sia, grab your shit. You’re coming with us.” I swallowed, defeat settling over me like an unwelcome rain shower on a sunny day. “Ky, calm the fuck down.” Ky turned and bust out of the front door of my ranch. I watched my brother go. I had an eerie feeling that this—the argument, his shitty mood—wasn’t all down to Garcia.
Styx cleared his throat. “You two are way too fucking similar. Both a pain in my ass.” He paused, then signed, “More going on at the club than you know. So how about you chill the fuck out with all the dramatics. I get enough on the daily with my fucknut brothers without adding you into the mix.” His lips tightened, and I knew I wasn’t gonna get my way. “You’re coming with us. I ain’t giving you an option. You’re Hangmen family. And that fucker is sniffing around. Pack your bag so we can get the fuck gone.”
Feeling like a sulking teen, I stormed past Styx toward my bedroom, shouldering him as I passed. He didn’t even move. “Sometimes I fucking hate the family I’ve been born into. Chauvinistic pricks. Y’all have fucking god complexes.”
Styx didn’t even flinch at my words. “As long as that complex belongs to the Dark Lord holding a noose and an Uzi, I’m fucking all right with owning that shit. It’s the way it is. Ain’t gonna change because you’re pitching a fit,” he signed. “You don’t have to like my orders, but you will obey them.” Then he added, “You’ve got ten minutes,” before he left to go after my brother.
Too angry to even give two shits about what was wrong with Ky—it was probably some “club business” I wouldn’t be allowed to know anyway—I stuffed clothes and toiletries into a bag and called Clara to ask her to watch the ranch while I was gone and get help from the vet if she needed it. He owed me a favor or a million for taking in sick horses when his practice was full.
Ten minutes later, my house was locked up and I was in my truck, following my brothers to the Hangmen compound. With each mile I drove away from the safe haven of my ranch, I felt less and less myself. I heard Garcia’s voice in my head, telling me he was coming for me. Threatening that he’d own me once and for all.
But like Kyler, I was good at covering what was bothering me.
So I’d pull up my big-girl panties and stay at the club for a while. As we passed through downtown Austin, lights from South Congress Avenue illuminating the cab of my truck, I let two images of Hades guide me: his smug face, and a noose, reminding why I ran away all those years ago.
This club was quicksand. A quicksand in which I was hell-bent on not getting stuck.

Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

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