Wednesday, 4 May 2016

Excerpt Reveal: Until June by Aurora Rose Reynolds


Afternoon chaps! 
I've got an awesome excerpt for you all today... If you'd like to read it, read on!
P.S
I so can't freakin' wait to read this book!!

The Boom is real!
Meet June & Evan in Until June releasing on May 24th!

Blurb:
June Mayson and Evan Barrister’s whirlwind courtship resulted in a secret marriage right before he left for boot camp. Evan knows deep in his gut that June is too good for him, but after getting a taste of the beautiful life they can have together, he’s unwilling to let her go. June promises to wait for him, knowing neither time or distance will ever change her feelings for Evan—that is until she’s served with divorce papers while he’s overseas and she’s forced to let him go.
Her marriage and divorce a well-kept secret, the last person June expects to run into when she moves back to her hometown is Evan. Angry over the past, she does everything within her power to ignore the pull she feels whenever he is near. But how can she ignore the pain she sees every time their eyes meet? How can she fight the need to soothe him even if she knows she’s liable to get hurt once again?
Is it possible for June and Evan to find their way back to each other again? Or will they be stopped by an outside force before they ever have a shot?

Now available for Pre-order!

Prologue: Looking at my reflection in the mirror across from me, I cringe. My hair is a disaster, there are bags under my eyes, and the nightgown I have on isn’t even one of the cute ones I normally wear. It’s the one my sister, December, got me as a joke, but I wear it occasionally, because its comfortable, even if it was made for a woman three times my age. Resting my elbows on the desk in front of me, I run my fingers through my hair, pulling the strands back away from my face. “I hate men,” I whisper into the empty interrogation room, where I was told to wait over an hour ago after the police kicked in my door and dragged me from my bed. Lifting my gaze, I look at myself in the mirror again and vow that whenever I get out of the mess my ex-boyfriend has gotten me into, I’m going to learn how to be a lesbian, even if I’m not sure that’s actually possible. “June Mayson.” Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at the now open door behind me, and my eyes meet those of a man who reminds me of my dad. He looks to be in his mid-forties, and is one of those men time has been kind to. He’s built, with dark hair that’s cut short and parted on the side. His eyes are a blue that stands out against his dark lashes and tan skin. “I’m Officer Mitchell, and this is Officer Plymouth.” He nods behind him and is followed in by a man who must be playing the roll off ‘Bad Cop’, judging by the frown on his face and the look he gives me when our eyes meet. Time hasn’t been as kind to him; he looks like he has enjoyed one too many beers. His middle is soft, and his skin doesn’t look healthy. Nodding, I cross my arms over my chest and run my hands down the bare skin of my biceps that’s chilled from the cool air coming from the vent above me. “Would you like something to drink?” Officer Mitchell asks as he walks fully into the room. Shaking my head, I mutter, “No, thank you.” “Hot chocolate?” he offers, and I feel tears burn the back of my eyes. Since I was little, whenever I was having a bad day, my dad would offer me hot chocolate. His hot chocolate has magical powers that always make everything seem okay, but I doubt police station hot chocolate would have the same effect. “No, thanks. I’d just like to know why I’m here,” I tell him as he takes a seat in the metal chair across from me and places a thick folder on the table between us. “We may be here awhile, Miss Mayson, so I’d like you to be comfortable,” he says gently, and I look at Officer Plymouth, who is leaning against the wall, then back to him. “I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Mitchell, but I’d really like to get to the point. I have class in a few hours and I’d really like to make it on time.” “I’m afraid you’re probably going to miss your class today, Miss Mayson.” Closing my eyes, I open them slowly and ask, “Can I get a sweater?” Surprisingly, Officer Plymouth slips off his suit jacket and walks it over to me, placing it around my shoulders. ‘Thank you,” I whisper up at him, and his eyes soften around the edges. Pulling my eyes from him, my gaze goes back toward Officer Mitchell. “How long have you known Lane Diago?” Officer Mitchell asks, and I sit up a little taller. “I don’t know anyone by that name,” I tell him, and he opens the file folder, fanning out a few pictures of my ex-boyfriend, Aaron, and me directly in front of me. Each of them were taken while we were a couple, showing we had been followed more than a few times. Him coming to my apartment…him kissing me outside my car…at the store, walking hand-in-hand down the aisles…at the movies…out to dinner…both of us doing normal couple things. “You mean Aaron?” “That what he told you his name was?” he asks, and I nod looking up at him. “I’ve known him for about a year,” I whisper, dropping my eyes to the pictures again, realizing I actually didn’t know him, since his name isn’t even Aaron. “How long have you two been dating?” he inquires, and my eyes drop to the pictures once more. “We dated for about four months. I broke up with him a month ago,” I tell him truthfully as a feeling of sadness hits me unexpectedly. I wasn’t in love with Aaron—or Lane. Not even close. But I cared about him, and believed he cared about me as well. That was, until he sent me a text to meet him at his house. When I got there, one of his roommates let me in, and I found him up in his room with Susie Detrei’s mouth around his cock, proving I was wrong about him. “You were close,” Officer Mitchell states, and I nod because we were, or I thought we were. “Can you tell me who this man is?” he asks, pulling out a picture of Aaron’s—Lane’s cousin, or at least the guy he told me was his cousin. “Aaron…I mean Lane’s cousin Cody. He lives in Mississippi,” I tell him. “Did you ever overhear them talking?” “Overhear them talking?” I ask, looking at a picture of Cody and Lane sitting in what looks like a bar, Lane with his favorite beer in his hand, and Cody with a short, wide glass with dark liquid and ice on the bar top in front of him, and his hand wrapped around it while he laughs at something. “Overhear them talking about anything out of the ordinary?” “No.” “Are you sure about that?” “Maybe if you told me exactly why I’m here, I can give you the information you’re looking for.” “Lane Diago’s uncle is one of the biggest distributors of illegal narcotics in Alabama, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Georgia, and South Carolina.” “What?” I whisper as my eyes focus on one of the pictures of Lane and me standing outside my apartment. I was wearing a short colorful summer dress and gold strappy sandals, and Lane had on a pair of black cargo shorts and a plain white tee. His head was bent toward mine, my hand was resting against his chest, and his was wrapped tight around my hip. It was our third date and our first kiss. I had waited forever to even go on a date with him, because I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I finally gave in to him, because he was so persistent. He asked me out every time we saw each other, and he was always dramatic in the way he did it. “Did you ever see—” “I never saw anything,” I cut him off. “Lane didn’t even smoke pot, and almost everyone I know smokes pot,” I whisper, pulling my eyes from the picture to look at him. “You two were together a lot. He would have you drop him places. My men saw you on more than one occasion.” “To friends’ houses,” I tell him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “If he asked me to drop him to a friend’s or to run him somewhere when we were going out, I would do it, but I never saw him do anything illegal.” “Do you understand you can go to prison if we find out you spent any of the money he earned from selling drugs on things for yourself.” Laughing, I cover my face with my hands and lay my head on the table while I try to pull myself together. I probably shouldn’t be laughing right now but its either laugh or cry. “What do you find funny about this?” Officer Plymouth asks, and I lift my head to look at him. “I paid for us to do things more than once, and he even asked me for gas money a couple of times. I never, not once, took money from him, not even for a coffee,” I tell him, and his eyes go to Officer Mitchell, who mutters, “Fuck.” “He cheated on me a month ago, and I haven’t talked to him since then,” I tell him, and he shakes his head. “We have time stamps for phone calls between the two of you over the last month.” “Did you ever look at how long those calls lasted?” I ask, knowing that if he did, he would know we didn’t actually talk. “He called. He called over and over. Finally, I had to pick up to tell him to stop calling me. I didn’t want anything to do with him a month ago, and I sure as hell don’t want anything to do with him now.” “Another fucking road block,” Officer Plymouth grumbles, and my head swings to him. “I’m sorry. I swear that if I knew anything, I would help you out, but I don’t. Lane never told me anything, and I sure as hell didn’t see anything. If I had, I would have talked to my uncle about it.” “You’re sure you didn’t see anything, hear anything?” “I’m sure,” I tell him, wishing I did know something, not because I’m a rat, but because I know what drugs can do to people. I know not everyone dies from using drugs, not everyone’s life goes to shit from using them, but my best roommate freshmen year of college overdosed and died, and that was only after she turned into a completely different person. Someone I didn’t like much. Someone I couldn’t trust. So, there’s no way I would ever protect anyone who is responsible for supplying those drugs, no matter how much I care about them. “Would you be willing to get back in with Lane?” Officer Plymouth asks, bringing my attention to him. My heart flips in my chest at the thought, but I don’t get a chance to answer, because someone bangs hard on the glass mirror in front of me, causing my image to go funny.



About the Author:
Aurora Rose Reynolds is a navy brat who's husband served in the United States Navy. She has lived all over the country but now resides in New York City with her Husband and pet fish. She's married to an alpha male that loves her as much as the men in her books love their women. He gives her over the top inspiration everyday. In her free time she reads, writes and enjoys going to the movies with her husband and cookie. She also enjoys taking mini weekend vacations to nowhere, or spends time at home with friends and family. Last but not least she appreciates everyday and admires it's beauty.


Tuesday, 26 April 2016

RDL - Z by Larissa Ione (1001 Dark Nights)



Paranormal Romance lovers!

Larissa Ione's Z is here!

Read on for an excerpt and book info!


Blurb:


Zhubaal, fallen angel assistant to the Grim Reaper, has spent decades searching for the angel he loved and lost nearly a century ago. Not even her death can keep him from trying to find her, not when he knows she’s been given a second chance at life in a new body. But as time passes, he’s losing hope, and he wonders how much longer he can hold to the oath he swore to her so long ago… 

As an emim, the wingless offspring of two fallen angels, Vex has always felt like a second-class citizen. But if she manages to secure a deal with the Grim Reaper — by any means necessary — she will have earned her place in the world. The only obstacle in the way of her plan is a sexy hardass called Z, who seems determined to thwart her at every turn. Soon it becomes clear that they have a powerful connection rooted in the past…but can any vow stand the test of time? 




Buy Links:



Excerpt:

It dripped off the sides of the sheer rock walls in streaks of black acid that ate into the stone with a hiss. It wafted through the humid air on tendrils of mist that reeked of sulfur and decaying flesh. And, as Vex watched, it oozed like toothpaste from out of a fissure in midair that only people like her could see.
Her purple-tipped black hair, already short and spiky, stood even more on end as the thing squeezing out of the fissure, a dead demon’s soul, popped free of whatever realm and mystical enclosure it had been inside. The toothpastey glob took a transparent, vaguely humanoid shape, but its glowing crimson eyes were sharp and clear. A malevolent wave of rage and hate rolled off the soul, and Vex backed away, even though escape was impossible for her.
She was what her parents had called a daemani, a demon soul magnet, a person to whom souls stuck like glue. According to them, most daemanis couldn’t prevent it from happening, and that was a serious pain in the ass. If a demon died near Vex, not even the Grim Reaper’s personal daemanis, creatures calledgriminions, had a chance to collect the soul before it got sucked into her and stored as a glyph on her skin.
The demon shrieked, a sound only she or another soul-sensitive person could hear, as it struggled to keep from being sucked into the prison of her body. In a futile attempt to avoid the inevitable, she fled, her booted feet nimbly negotiating the rock shard-strewn ground that was all too common in this part of Sheoul.
But no matter how fast she ran, every time she looked over her shoulder, the distance between her and the soul had decreased. Closer. Closer.

About The Author:

Larissa Ione is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. An Air Force veteran, she traded in a career as a meteorologist to pursue her passion of writing. She now spends her days in pajamas with her computer, strong coffee, and supernatural worlds. She believes in celebrating everything, and would never be caught without a bottle of Champagne chilling in the fridge…just in case. She currently lives in Wisconsin with her U.S. Coast Guard husband, her teenage son, a rescue cat named Vegas, and her very own hellhound, a King Shepherd named Hexe.


Monday, 11 April 2016

Release Day Blast - Stuck Up Suit - Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward




Guys!



Graham and Soraya’s highly anticipated romance is finally here in Stuck-Up Suit by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward!

Excited?



Blurb:
It started out like any other morning on the train.
Until I became mesmerized by the guy sitting across the aisle.
He was barking at someone on his phone like he ruled the world.
Who did the stuck-up suit think he was…God?
Actually, he looked like a God. That was about it.
When his stop came, he got up suddenly and left.  So suddenly, he dropped his phone on the way out.
I might have picked it up.
I might have gone through all of his photos and called some of the numbers.
I might have held onto the mystery man’s phone for days—until I finally conjured up the courage to return it.
When I traipsed my ass across town to his fancy company, he refused to see me.
So, I left the phone on the empty desk outside the arrogant jerk’s office.
I might have also left behind a dirty picture on it first though. 
I didn’t expect him to text back.
I didn’t expect our exchanges to be hot as hell.
I didn’t expect to fall for him—all before we even met.
The two of us couldn’t have been any more different. 
Yet, you know what they say about opposites.
When we finally came face to face, we found out opposites sometimes do more than attract—we consumed each other.
Nothing could have prepared me for the ride he took me on. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for where I’d wind up when the ride was over.
All good things must come to an end, right?
Except our ending was one I didn't see coming.


Excerpt:

Graham: What are you wearing, Soraya?
Soraya: Are you serious right now?
Graham: You ruined my day. You owe me.
Soraya: I don’t owe you anything, you fucking perv.
Graham: This from the woman who sent me a shot of her cleavage. Nice tits, by the way. They’re so big, at first, I thought it was a picture of an ass.
Soraya: You’re the ass.
Graham: Show me your face.
Soraya: Why?
Graham: Because I want to see if it matches your personality.
Soraya: Which would mean what?
Graham: Well, that wouldn’t bode well for you.
Soraya: You won’t ever see my face.
Graham: Probably better off. So, give me a hint about what you’re wearing.
Soraya: It’s red.
Graham: So you haven’t changed out of that dress?
Soraya: No, I’m naked with dye dripping down my body and my tongue is throbbing thanks to you.
That was an odd thing to say.
Graham: That’s an interesting visual.
Soraya: You are seriously crazy, dude.
Graham: I AM a little crazy, actually. I probably need my head checked because I’ve been fantasizing about a headless person all day.
Soraya: Well, the naked pic ain’t gonna happen.
Graham: How about I go first?

Buy Now:


Meet The Authors...

Penelope Ward
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Penelope lives for reading books in the new adult/contemporary romance genre, coffee and hanging out with her friends and family on weekends. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 9-year-old boy, both of whom are the lights of her life. Penelope, her husband and kids reside in Rhode Island. She is the author of RoomHate, which hit #2 on the New York Times Bestseller list and #1 on the Wall Street Journal Bestseller list. Her novel, Stepbrother Dearest, also spent four consecutive weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list. Other works include the New York Times bestseller Cocky Bastard (co-written with Vi Keeland), Sins of Sevin, My Skylar, Jake Undone, Jake Understood and Gemini.


Vi Keeland
Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is an attorney and a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today Bestselling author. Over the last three years, ten of her titles have appeared on the USA Today Bestseller lists and three on the New York Times Bestseller lists.




Thursday, 7 April 2016

Cover Reveal - Haunt - J.C. Emery


Afternoon peeps!

Today, I bring you the cover of the next book in the Bayonet Scars series by J.C. Emery!

Haunt releases in May, and it's gonna be good! 
Read on for a cheeky wee excerpt..!



Blurb:

Kings rule men. Queens rule kings.
Wyatt Strand is a hard man. He has hard features, speaks with harsh words, and has a hardened heart. Having served the Forsaken Motorcycle Club as Vice President, Wyatt is used to taking responsibility for his brothers, but when he’s handed the gavel everything changes. His brothers are now his men and the threat from the Italian mafia still looms in the distance. A president needs focus, but that’s nearly impossible when his old lady blows back into town and drops two very large bombshells on him.
Amber Wallace is a tough woman, but an even fiercer mother. She once told a lie to protect her unborn child that tore her away from the man she loves. And now, years later, she’s coming home to make amends. Wyatt’s changed, but the club hasn’t. Women are to be obedient. Unfortunately for Forsaken, Amber’s not about to let a few rules stop her from living the life she always imagined.
The Forsaken Motorcycle Club started a war with the Italian mafia and they’ve paid dearly for that choice. With a new president at the helm, the wheels are finally in motion to take down Mancuso once and for all. Even if it means taking the fight back to where it began.
Love is never more beautiful than when it consumes you.


EXCERPT

A loud bang sounds on the other side of the closed door. My heart skips a beat and I jump from my spot at the head of the bed. The darkness makes me jumpy. I don’t know what it is, but the solitude kind of freaks me out.
The hinges on the door creak as it opens. Light filters in, bringing with it a sort of relief. Two shadows appear in the doorway— one large and bulking and one small and slender— casting a shadow over the bed and most of my body and face. Their bodies are pressed together. The larger body sandwiches the smaller one between himself and the door frame. My stomach drops and my mouth goes dry. I have to push back the hurt and remind myself that even though I’m technically his that doesn’t mean he’s even remotely mine.
Because even though it’s been almost three years since I’ve seen him, I’d know him anywhere. Not many people get to be Wyatt’s size and nobody carries themselves the way he does. When he walks, it’s with this humble confidence that just radiates, but he’s totally void of any arrogance. At least, that’s who he is when he’s sober.
The woman he’s with giggles. She fucking giggles as his hands trail up and down the sides of her body. Jesus Christ, the sorry fuck is hooking up with girls now. Grown ass women don’t giggle and we’re too damn old to be fucking around with coeds. The little bitch— not that I’m pissed about having to watch my old man maul a damn teenybopper or anything— flips the light switch, basking the room in a soft yellow light. I cringe, blinking away the spots in my vision. Once I’m able to see clearly again, I steel myself to face the only man I’ve ever loved.
I clear my throat and snicker when the girl turns to face me. She can’t be more than a year or two out of high school, if even. She’s your basic bottle blonde with too much makeup and not enough pretty to back it up.
“Oh, shit,” he whispers.
My eyes travel from the whore to Wyatt. I have to actively work to suck in a breath. His light brown hair hangs down to around his hulking shoulders. He’s still beautiful even if he has totally lost that youthful boyish beauty he used to have. It’s been seventeen years since I met this man, but his eyes are the same. The narrow shape makes him look like he’s always grouchy even when he’s laughing, but the blue-green color is inviting and makes him seem almost gentle— like an enormous teddy bear— even though he’s definitely not. I get lost in his eyes just like I do every night as I tell our son and baby girl that I love them. Piper’s eyes are rounder, but the color is spot-on, and when she gets mad there’s no doubting who her daddy is. Zander is another story. As he’s grown and become more of a man, I see less and less of myself in him and more of his father. Sometimes so much so that it’s painful.
Coming back to my senses, I adjust wiggle my wrists to give the pair a little wave and with the brightest, fakest smile I can muster, I say, “Honey, I’m home.”



About the author:
As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head and pursuing her bachelor's degree in English. JC is a San Francisco Bay Area native, but has also called both Texas and Louisiana home. These days she rocks her flip flops year round in Northern California and can't imagine a climate more beautiful.

JC writes adult, new adult, and young adult fiction. She dabbles in many different genres including science fiction, horror, chick lit, and murder mysteries, yet she is most enthralled by supernatural stories-- and everything has at least a splash of romance.

 
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