Blog Tour, Excerpt & Review: Villain by Samantha Young

VILLAIN
Series: Hero #1.5
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Samantha Young
Release Date: December 5, 2017

 

The sexy and emotional companion novella to the New York Times bestselling romance HERO.

Nadia Ray is not just a broadcast meteorologist. She’s Boston’s morning television It Girl. Successful and independent, she’s put a past she’s ashamed of behind her and is forging a future she can be proud of. However, when her new boss discovers her secret he blackmails her, intent on using Nadia’s popularity to make them the number one morning show in Massachusetts. He wants her to be part of uncovering the city’s biggest scandal – a secret billionaire Caine Carraway is hiding.

Soon Nadia is thrown into the path of Caine’s best friend: sexy, wealthy bachelor Henry Lexington. But she doesn’t encounter the dashing high society gentleman Henry is purported to be. Instead she’s faced with an insulting and defensive villain who misjudges her at every turn.

When Henry finally realizes the truth, and decides to make amends, Nadia wants nothing to do with him. But she underestimates his determination and charm and soon they find themselves embroiled in an intense, passionate affair.

An affair Nadia knows must come to an end before their feelings grow any deeper and he discovers her secrets.

After all, Henry Lexington isn’t the only one who played the part of a villain once…

AMAZON | KOBO | iBOOKS

Henry got in next to me and threw me the kind of excited grin a child might at Christmas. “Ready?”“This is quite the car.”

“The words say impressed; your tone does not.” He observed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “Is it the top? Do you want it up so it doesn’t mess your hair?”

“I don’t care about that.” I frowned, annoyed that he’d think I’d be that concerned with my appearance. “I care about how weird this is.”

As we pulled into traffic, Henry slipped on a pair of aviator sunglasses. “What’s weird about two adults having lunch together?”

“Because forty-eight hours ago, we were enemies.”

“So melodramatic. We were merely mistaken about one another.”

You were mistaken about me. I think I have you pegged accurately.”

“And that’s why we’re going to lunch because you don’t.” He shot me that sexy smirk. “You don’t know the good stuff.”

“Has anyone ever said no to you in your life?”

“Yes, frequently.”

“Have you ever listened to them?”

Henry chuckled. “Rarely.”

His laughter and the sight of him driving this beautiful car with lazy confidence, his strong hands lightly resting on the wheel, those ridiculously hot sunglasses—it all affected me. Greatly. A sensuous ripple fluttered in my lower belly.

Dear God, I really wanted him.

The realization caused my breath to escape from me in a shudder, drawing his attention. Quite abruptly, I made a decision. “I’m just going to put it out there in case you’re planning to take me to a stupidly overpriced restaurant for lunch.”

Okay.” He drew out the word, sounding amused and wary at the same time.

“I don’t particularly like you. In fact, you have become one of the villains in my story so far. I don’t want to date you and I doubt very much that you are interested in dating me. However, I also doubt that you feel so guilty about your treatment of me that you merely want to turn around my opinion of you. No, sir. I’m here because you’re attracted to me. That’s okay because apparently, I’m attracted to you too. You’re hot and it’s obnoxious but I can’t deny it.”

Henry’s mouth twitched like he was trying to suppress a smile. “Okay.”

“We’re attracted to each other or you wouldn’t have asked me out and I wouldn’t have let myself be manipulated into saying yes. But let’s not pretend this is something that it’s not with chivalry and a date. You want to fuck me. And I’m amenable to the idea. So let’s cut all the bullshit and just do it.”

“Jesus.” Henry almost ran into the back of a car that had stopped at the light, slamming hard on his brakes. He looked at me and even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew his expression was incredulous. “You’re amenable to the idea of me fucking you? Did I hear that right?”

I flushed. “I’m sure you’re used to women with gentler manners but I’m a straight talker. I don’t believe in flowering up a situation so as not to offend delicate sensibilities.”

The traffic moved forward and Henry didn’t speak.

In fact, he stayed silent for a while.

So long that I began to feel my cheeks burn with humiliation.

I’d read him wrong. He really did only want to make amends.

I wasn’t his type.

Oh God.

This month had been really, really bad for me.

Finally, he pulled up outside a pizzeria on Tremont Street. Once he killed the engine he took off his sunglasses and turned toward me. His expression was surprisingly sober as he intently studied my face, as if he hoped to find answers there. “You’re right,” he said, his voice low, deep, “I want you. But I don’t consider anticipation bullshit. We’re going to have lunch. And you’re going to agree to have lunch with me on Thursday. And then you’re going to agree to be my date to the Delaney Charity Ball this Saturday. After which we’ll go back to your apartment and I will happily fuck you into satisfied exhaustion.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak because his last sentence turned me on, his words alone sparking delicious excitement deep in my belly.

What the hell would the rest of him do to me?

Of course, after a second or so of physical arousal, the rest of his words sunk in. “What?” I shook my head in confusion. “No. We don’t need to have lunch or go to a ball together.”

“No lunch dates, no date to the ball, no penis for you. And you don’t want miss out on my penis. It’s a good one.”

I acted like my story deserved a hero. But only a heroine deserves a hero. And I wasn’t a heroine.
I couldn’t be.
The truth was in someone else’s story …
I was a villain.


Now it’s been a hot minute since I read Hero, but it took me no time at all to dive right back into this world. As the fun-loving, easy going, and quick with a smile best friend and business partner to the growly and grumpy Caine, I wasn’t sure how Henry would follow. I live for the enemies to lovers trope, and it was hard to imagine someone that smiley pulling off the a-hole vibe. But I shouldn’t have worried, because Samantha Young really gave me the best of both worlds with him; the a-hole at first and then the endearing. I absolutely adored the man.

What?” I shook my head in confusion. “No. We don’t need to have lunch or go to a ball together.”
“No lunch dates, no date to the ball, no penis for you. And you don’t want miss out on my penis. It’s a good one.”

Nadia is not a stranger to unwanted male attention. As Boston’s morning television It Girl and broadcast meteorologist, it wasn’t her smarts that got the viewership. She’s tried to make peace with the fact that her curvy figure will always make men undermine and misjudge her. Or perhaps its just her recent history with them. So when an assignment from her smarmy boss lands her in the cross hairs of a very pissed off Henry Lexington, she doesn’t back down from putting him in his place. What she doesn’t anticipate is Henry’s interest as soon as he realizes his colossal screw up with her.

I loved the way that Henry pursued Nadia and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was determined to keep him in the sex only box and he was having none of it. Nadia was such an incredibly endearing heroine as well. For all that she’s been through, this is a chick with balls of steel and a spine that’s even stronger. She’s not about to back down or bow down to anyone, and I respected that so much in her.

Villain was this perfect combination of a delicious slow burn, with a splash of enemies to lovers, all wrapped up in a story that kept me glued to the pages until the end. It was entertaining, quick paced, and entirely satisfying. I absolutely loved these two together.

I wanted more. Everything. Now. I wanted to come. I didn’t want seduction. I wanted him to shatter me. Immediately.

There was a bit of drama that was thrown in at the end, but it wrapped things up quite nicely. If you’re looking for a sexy, short, but totally satisfying novella, Villain will do the trick quite nicely. The perfect read to spend the afternoon with.

Samantha Young is the New York Times,  USA Today  and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of adult contemporary romances, including the On Dublin Street series and Hero, as well as the New Adult duology Into the Deep and Out of the Shallows.  Every Little Thing, the second book in her new Hart’s Boardwalk series, will be published by Berkley in March 2017. Before turning to contemporary fiction, she wrote several young adult paranormal and fantasy series, including the amazon bestselling Tale of Lunarmorte trilogy. Samantha’s debut YA contemporary novel The Impossible Vastness of Us was published by Harlequin TEEN in ebook & hardback June 2017. Play On is an adult contemporary romance and the first in a brand new series set in Scotland. Villain is a companion novella to the New York Times bestselling romance HERO.

Samantha has been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award 2012 for Best Author and Best Romance for On Dublin Street, Best Romance 2014 for Before Jamaica Lane, and Best Romance 2015 for HeroOn Dublin Street, a #1 bestseller in Germany, was the Bronze Award Winner in the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2013, Before Jamaica Lane the Gold Medal Winner for the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2014 and Echoes of Scotland Street the Bronze Medal Winner for the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2015.

Samantha is currently published in 30 countries and is a #1 international bestselling author.

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Cover Reveal & Exclusive Excerpt: Make Me Forget by Monica Corwin

MAKE ME FORGET
Genre: Dark Romance
Author: Monica Corwin
Release Date: February 1, 2018

He makes me burn. He makes me ache. He makes me forget.

Since grade school Murphy Wilcox and I fought incessantly. But one drunk night before my last military deployment changed everything. At least that is what he tells me. Along with the hundreds of scorching hot emails we shared.

Fast forward four years and Murphy is the only connection I have to my past. The only connection I have to the woman I used to be. Amnesia is a bitch but apparently so was I.

Make Me Forget is a dark romance, with a HEA, that touches on PTSD, mental health, and suicide. Follow Mara as she tries to learn who she really is.

PRE-ORDER AVAILABLE NOW

AMAZON | iBOOKS | KOBO | GOOGLE PLAY | B&N

I brushed her still wet hair away from her cheeks and bent down to taste her again. The first time had been to shut her up, this time was all for me. I parted her lips with my tongue, anchored one hand in her hair and the other at her chin. Her moan almost broke me. The slight little brush of breath and sound melted every bone in my body and shot my cock to attention. Each charge and retreat spun tight the web of my feelings for her. I’d pushed them down deep so long ago. Now, with her nails marking me and our lips battling for dominance, they overflowed. In a hundred years, I’d never get enough of her. Mara Williams was my addiction. Not the vice I wanted, but the one I needed as much as oxygen or water.She severed the kiss with an arch of her neck, releasing her head back and crushing my fingers against the wall. I didn’t dare move, though, not with such lovely access to her long elegant neck. I dropped my mouth to the curve of her throat and kissed a breathy trail from clavicle to chin. Her hips shifted forward as if she were unwittingly trying to get closer, eliminate any distance between our bodies. The lingering scent of the hotel soap wafted from her clean skin.

I jerked her head back up by the hair, and her eyes snapped open. No fight there, almost a submission. An unexpected turn I could definitely play with. “On the bed, now.”

She blinked once, twice, but to my surprise, said nothing, simply stepped around me and perched on the edge of the bed. It squeaked with her minimal movements. In another life, we might play a game and try to make as much noise as possible. Or maybe I wanted the world to know this woman belonged to me, even if only for tonight. I’d waited long enough for the chance.

I stepped up, and her face sat inches from my cotton-covered hard on. If she were a woman I’d fucked before, I’d have taken myself out and invited her lips for a taste. But this was Mara, and I didn’t want to scare her too soon. “Do you want to see it?”

She swallowed heavily enough I could hear it, see it, and then she nodded almost desperately. I bent, pulled my boxer briefs off, and tossed them on top of my clothes. My dick was so hard, it ached. I palmed it, trying to slow down my reaction to her, my body’s response to every beautiful inch of her skin I still needed to see more of. Her eyes burned into me as she watched me stroke myself.

I released my cock, not wanting this to end sooner than I planned, and stepped closer. “Take off your clothes. This is happening.”

She let out a soft snort of laughter, and then she stripped her t-shirt off and shimmied out of her gray panties all while still sitting on the edge of the bed. I took my time looking her over. Her skin was bronzed to her mid-bicep and around her neck, but pale and creamy everywhere else. A farmer’s tan she’d gotten on deployment. It didn’t matter, I’d worship every part of her the same.

She licked her lips and scooted up the bed to lay on the pillow. It broke my heart the way she folded he hands across her smooth flat belly as if prepping for a medical exam. What the fuck kind of men had she been with before me? Ones who fucked on clean sheets, in the missionary position, on Tuesday’s? Anger shimmered through me. She deserved so much better than ordinary.

“Get your ass back down here. This will not be clean. This will not be civilized. And this will not be something you can lie back and take.”

 

Jenn’s Review & Exclusive Excerpt: Burn For You by @JTGeissinger

BURN FOR YOU
Series: Slow Burn #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: J.T. Geissinger
Release Date: October 17, 2017

The marriage is fake. But for a sassy chef and an arrogant billionaire, the sparks are real…

Jackson “The Beast” Boudreaux is rich, gorgeous, and unbelievably rude to the staff at Chef Bianca Hardwick’s New Orleans restaurant. Bianca would sooner douse herself in hot sauce than cook for Jackson again, but when he asks her to cater his fund-raiser, Bianca can’t refuse, knowing the cash will help pay her mother’s medical bills. Then Jackson makes another outrageous request: Marry me. The unconventional offer includes an enormous sum—money Bianca desperately needs, even if it does come with a contract—and a stunning ring.

The heir to a family bourbon dynasty, Jackson knows the rumors swirling around him. The truth is even darker. Still, he needs a wife to secure his inheritance, and free-spirited, sassy Bianca would play the part beautifully. Soon, though, their simple business deal evolves into an emotional intimacy he’s built walls to avoid.

As the passion heats up between them, Bianca and Jackson struggle to define which feelings are real and which are for show. Is falling for your fake fiancé the best happy ending…or a recipe for disaster?


AMAZON
 

See the BURN FOR YOU trailer: https://youtu.be/hpKswDZve24

“Ladies. How’re we doing?”Jackson stood in the doorway of the kitchen, looking at Claudia and me. It was the first time I’d seen him since I’d arrived at his house early this morning to start the setup.

“Everything’s under control,” I said. “Claudia’s doing a great job.”

She smiled tightly and adjusted her glasses again. I felt her gratitude for my small show of support. It was obvious how intimidated she was by Jackson. She could barely look him in the eye, probably because he was wearing a scowl as black as his outfit.

But I was used to that by now. I didn’t let it alarm me.

I asked him, “Is that what you’re going to wear?”

Jackson looked down at himself, then looked up at me with his brows drawn down over his eyes.

Seeing his murderous expression, Claudia ran out of the kitchen like her pants were on fire. “Fifty minutes, Bianca!” she called over her shoulder, then disappeared through the French doors.

Jackson didn’t seem to notice she’d left. He demanded, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

I shrugged. “Nothing, if you want people to think you’ve been living under a bridge.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. I tried to ignore how that made the muscles in his biceps bulge.

He said, “You must be mistaking me for someone who cares what people think.” Propping my hands on my hips, I examined his untucked T-shirt, wrinkled jeans, and scuffed boots, his unshaven jaw, and his hair that appeared to have last seen a comb when he walked by one that had fallen out of someone’s pocket into the street.

I said, “Lord knows I’m no style maven, and I dress for comfort more than anything else, but your guests deserve the best version of you, Mr. Boudreaux. I’m sorry to say this isn’t it.”

His glower was so searing it could have melted a weaker woman. But after the past few days I’d had, I was in an ornery mood. An ornery truth-telling mood, because I’d recently decided life was too short to beat around the bush.

Plus, his check had already cleared the bank.

“Oh, really?” said Jackson, his voice acidic.

“Yes, really.” We stared at each other. It must have been my imagination, but it felt like the temperature in the room jumped several degrees.

He snapped, “So what would you recommend I wear, then?”

“Do you own a suit?”

His expression turned even darker. “I hate suits.”

“But do you have one?” When he didn’t answer and just stood there glaring at me like he hoped a stray asteroid would smash through the ceiling and land on my head, I said, “That’s what you should wear. With a tie.” I looked at his boots. “And dress shoes.”

He ran a hand over his face— probably deciding whether he was going to pick up the toaster from the counter and throw it at me— and I added, “Also, a shave wouldn’t kill you.” His looked at me with a strange new expression.

“You don’t like beards.” He said it flatly. It wasn’t a question.

“Beards are fine. But that thing carpeting your jaw? Honestly, I’ve seen tidier jungles.”

For a moment I thought he would let loose a string of expletives so loud it would deafen me. But then his lips twitched, and I realized he was trying not to smile.

He said, “You’re in fine form today, Bianca.”

It was the first time he’d used my given name. I nearly fainted in surprise but managed to control myself. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking down at the schedule I still held in my hands. “You’re right. It’s just . . .” I cleared my throat. “It’s just been a rough few weeks.”

There was silence for a moment, then he walked closer. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, gruff and growly as a bear.

I glanced up at him and was surprised again. I could’ve sworn he was looking at me with concern in his eyes.

Concern and something else a little hotter.

My heart decided it was time to run a sprint. It took off like a jackrabbit chased by a pack of hounds. I said, “Just some personal stuff. My mother . . .”

I trailed off, dazed for a moment by his eyes. I hadn’t noticed before, but they weren’t only blue. He had tiny flecks of green and gold around his irises, warming those steely-blue depths.

And by God, the man smelled delicious. If that was his natural scent, he could make a few more billion by bottling it and selling it to men with less scrumptious—

Wait. What am I doing? Why am I mooning at him? Am I out of my ever-loving mind?

“Your mother?” he prompted, but I quickly stepped away, smoothing a hand over my hair.

“It’s nothing. I’m so sorry, I’m being unprofessional. If you don’t mind, Mr. Boudreaux, I’ll just get back to work now—”

“Jackson,” he said. He gazed down at me, eyes burning. His voice dropped an octave. “I want you to call me Jackson, Bianca.”

My sprinting heart tripped all over itself and fell flat on its face inside my chest. Heat rose into my cheeks. I said haltingly, “Um . . . okay.”

His gaze dropped to my lips.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

When he abruptly turned around and left, my knees shook so badly I had to lean against the counter for support.

What on earth just happened?

J.T. has that kind of writing style that I feel in my Romeo & Julep, and by that I mean my heart, but yes that could be an innuendo (Leave me alone! Yes, it can!). But seriously, her writing style is poetic and pulls all the feels out of my Cheesecake. Ugh, sorry. I couldn’t help it. Let me explain.


If you haven’t guessed yet, this book centers around food. The heroine is a chef and includes the Bourbon that Jackson’s family is famous for into her recipes. When Jackson enters her restaurant, she freaks out because the man of the hour is there, in her restaurant. But Jackson is the asshole that she does not tolerate. He may be a billionaire, but her sassy ass doesn’t care because he is being rude and arrogant and treating her staff with no respect.

Jackson. The Beast. Well, lasso me up and give me a Slap, Slap Kiss Cocktail. He is scarred on the inside and outside. He is SO MEAN to her. Like, reeeeeally mean, and I loved him for it. I just want someone to cuddle me in a big, comfy blanket and be an asshole to me. Is that too much to ask? He has been hurt, by his family and a previous love. He has many many scars, and he carries them on his sleeve and his face. He is perfection all trussed up in in his leather jacket and worn jeans and scruffy beard. It’s like J.T. created a man just for me.


Bianca. This chick. Serious girl crush. I love that she doesn’t give Jackson the time of day. It doesn’t even matter that he is THE Bourbon legacy. She has a business to run, and she is the mother hen to her employees. When Jackson is in a pinch, he has no choice but to ask Bianca to help him with a major charity event. This gives Bianca a glance into a side of Jackson that she has never seen before, even if it is a façade. One thing leads to another, and Bianca finally meets the family that Jackson does not want to see ever again.


This is a love-hate relationship, which should be the only relationship ever because it’s the best and gets my Jambalaya going every damn time. Ok, so I may have taken all of the recipes in the book and twisted them a little bit. Can you blame me when J.T. uses recipes like Dixie and Gumbo?! Ok, maybe you can blame me. I have a perverted little mind. But this mind loves all things J.T. Geissinger.

I love all of J.T.’s alpha heroes.
I love all of J.T.’s sassy heroines.
I love all of J.T.’s books.

Are you getting hungry yet?

A former headhunter, J.T. Geissinger is the author of more than a dozen novels in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense.

She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. Her work has also finaled in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards.

Join her Facebook reader’s group, Geissinger’s Gang, to take part in weekly Wine Wednesday live chats and giveaways, find out more information about works in progress, have access to exclusive excerpts and contests, and get advance reader copies of her upcoming releases.

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Spotlight & Exclusive Excerpt: Sightlines by Santino Hassell

SIGHTLINES
Series: The Community #3
Genre: m/m paranormal romance; psychics; finale
Author: Santino Hassell
Release Date: October 9, 2017

Chase Payne is a walking contradiction. He’s the most powerful psychic in the Community, but the least respected. He’s the son of the Community’s founder, but with his tattoo sleeves and abrasive attitude, he’s nothing like his charismatic family. No one knows what to make of him, which is how he wound up locked in a cell on the Farm yet again. But this time, the only man he’s ever loved is there too.

Elijah Estrella was used to being the sassy sidekick who fooled around with Chase for fun. But that was before he realized the Community wasn’t the haven he’d believed in and Chase was the only person who’d ever truly tried to protect him. Now they’re surrounded by people who want to turn them against their friends, and the only way out is to pretend the brainwashing works.

With Chase playing the role of a tyrant’s second-in-command, and Elijah acting like Chase’s mindless sex toy, they risk everything by plotting a daring escape. In the end, it’s only their psychic abilities, fueled by their growing love for each other, that will allow them to take the Community down once and for all.

AMAZON

The room around him was white and the floor beneath him was hard and cold. It wasn’t exactly freezing, but it was frigid enough for a consistent shiver to pass through his body, and for the scratch of soreness to have already formed at the back of his throat.It was that scratch, and the coldness beneath his bare thighs, that immediately allowed Chase to realize he wasn’t in his new bed in the cottage.

He was in the silo, and this wasn’t a dream.

Visions had come to him this way for his entire life, and it was still a surprise when he opened his eyes to find himself somewhere else. Especially when everything felt so real.

Chase’s eyes adjusted to the blinding brightness of the room—shocking mostly because it must have been the dead of night outside—and focused on Elijah. He looked so small balled up in a corner with his hands pressed to his ears and his eyes shut. He’d tilted his head back against the ceiling. It looked like he was praying. Or trying to sleep.

And that’s when the music started.

The roar of an aggressive beat intercepted with the growl of a voice so distorted it was hard to make out, or maybe that was the static of the vision making it impossible for Chase to understand. Elijah curled in on himself tighter, hands plugging his ears harder, as his jaw clenched up.

Pain was a bullet to Chase’s heart. Jasper had stolen his empathy ages ago, but when it came to Elijah . . . Chase’s chest was like a cage with wide bars. Easy for the beautiful boy with the smart mouth and luminous eyes to reach in and touch Chase’s heart, even if those feelings never managed to get out.

He stood from his own crouch and walked across the room in measured steps. The cold seeped into his skin with each movement, so he walked faster, moving with the beat, before he reached Elijah. Even after Chase crouched in front of him, Elijah didn’t react. His face was twisted, damp with tears, and his brows all screwed up.

God, he was so beautiful. Even when he was hurt.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Chase put his hands on Elijah’s shoulders and leaned in. There was no way his touch would be felt or his voice would be heard, but he spoke anyway.

“They can’t get you, baby. You’re fucking strong. They’re nothing. You survived too much for some psy kids with distorted brains to mess you up. As long as you can keep your shield up, you can beat them.” Chase brushed his hand alongside Elijah’s face with a gentleness he never showed in the real world. “And if they do manage to get you, I’ll bring you back. Because . . .” He swallowed, that sick feeling taking over even as he beat it back. “Because I do fucking love you.”

The music seemed to lower, and a beat later, Elijah opened his eyes and looked directly at Chase. His brows rose, relief washing over him, and then everything faded around Chase. The white walls crumbled and Elijah dematerialized.

Then Chase woke up.

His heart wasn’t pounding and there was no cold sweat. He lay still and silent in a too soft bed as he gazed up at a ceiling that was far too low, and listened.

No footsteps. No voices. Nothing but the distant hooting of an owl and the wail of the wind outside the windows.

 Santino Hassell was raised by a conservative family but grew up to be a smart-mouthed, school cutting grunge kid, a transient twenty-something, and eventually transformed into a grumpy introvert and unlikely romance author with an affinity for baseball caps. His novels are heavily influenced by the gritty, urban landscape of New York City, and his desire to write relationships fueled by intensity and passion.

He’s been a finalist in both the Bisexual Book Awards and the EPIC Awards, and was nominated for a prestigious RITA award in 2017. His work has been featured in BuzzFeed, Huffington Post, Washington Post, RT Magazine, and Cosmopolitan Magazine.

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Blog Tour & Excerpt: Gun Shy by Lili St. Germain

GUN SHY
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Author: Lili St. Germain
Release Date: October 6, 2017
A stand alone psychological thriller.

** NOT A ROMANCE **

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?

In the middle of a fierce snowstorm in Gun Creek, Nevada, seventeen-year-old Jennifer Thomas disappears without a trace.

The second girl in nine years.

Identical cases. Identical conditions. Only last time, the girl was found. Dead, stuffed in a well beside the creek that feeds the town’s water supply.

The killer was never found.

As the small town mobilizes and searches for newly vanished Jennifer Thomas, one suspect comes to the fore. But did he do it? Or is there something else at play? Something nobody could have anticipated?

For Jennifer’s friend Cassie Carlino, the worst is yet to come. As she pins MISSING posters to store windows and joins the search, she begins to suspect that Jennifer’s disappearance might be much closer to her than she could have ever imagined. 


Amazon | Nook | Kobo | iBooks

 Leo

I visit Jennifer every evening at the diner; she seems to like the attention, and I could use the distraction. I make sure to turn up just before her shift ends, and she gives me a ride home every night. The first night she came over we ended up talking for hours. My mouth hurt by the end, every sense on high alert. I was a gentleman. I didn’t lay a hand on her again, not after she started to talk. She’s in trouble. A lot of trouble. I think it eased her mind to be able to confess to somebody who pretty much wrote the book on trouble in this town.I mean, there’s not a thing I can do to help the girl. Not unless she tells me who got her into this mess in the first place. “That’s the problem with men,” she said to me when I urged her to give me the name of the guy blackmailing her. “They always jump straight to problem-solving. Men always want to fix everybody.”

“You don’t want to be fixed?” I’d asked her.

“I can fix myself,” she’d replied. “I just need somebody to understand.”

I don’t understand. Her predicament is something I’ve never experienced. But I can listen. I listen to her talk as she drives me home in her shiny new car every night, and it makes me feel less of a fuck-up. I mean, she hasn’t killed anyone. But she’s planning to. And that’s why we’ve found each other. I am a killer and she is ready to spill blood. She is a welcome distraction from my sins, and I am a makeshift altar for her to lay her own sins upon. Because when I’m with Jennifer, I don’t think about Cassie Carlino. I don’t think of Karen Brainard. And, most especially, I don’t think of Teresa King and the way she burned beside me in that car.

* * *
The night Jennifer Thomas disappears is like all the rest. I go to the diner. Order nachos and a Coke. I’m surprised Jennifer is working. It’s Thanksgiving, and the place is deserted. Even Amanda is nowhere to be seen.

“Working on Thanksgiving?” I ask Jennifer, as she slides my food in front of me. She shrugs, that glitter lipgloss catching the light as she moves. “It’s just another day, isn’t it?”

I nod.

“Besides,” she says, “It pisses my dad off. I asked for this shift.”

At ten, I help her to turn out all the lights. I wait beside her as she locks the front doors of the diner, feeling vaguely worried about the fact that somebody left a sixteen year old cheerleader alone to lock up this late at night. I note the lack of video surveillance, the remote location, the fact that everyone is tucked safely inside their houses while Jennifer is alone with a convicted criminal in the dead of night.

Jennifer offers me a ride home, which I accept. Except, instead of driving me straight home like she has done for the past six nights in a row, Jennifer pulls her Range Rover off the road into an uncleared section of pine trees that tower over us. The track is narrow and winding and she doesn’t answer me when I ask her where she’s taking us.

She stops in a small clearing and cuts the lights. The engine is still running. Bits of snow fall outside, slow and bloated in their trajectory toward the ground. Jennifer’s hands are small as they grip the steering wheel; her eyes lit up by the red illumination of the dashboard, making her look almost demonic.

“What are we doing here?” I ask her again.

“I don’t want to go home,” she says staring straight ahead.

“Fair enough,” I reply. I watch her as she struggles to find words. She squirms in her heated leather seat, her nails shiny and perfect, her shoulders sagging under the weight of something I cannot see.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asks me in a tiny voice, and she sounds so mouse-like and weak that I almost laugh.

“Do I think you’re pretty?” I echo, feeling a smirk cut its way across my face. “Jennifer, you’re so pretty I could die just from looking at you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You think I’m stupid. You’re just here because you feel sorry for me, Leo.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think you’re stupid. And I’m not here because I feel sorry for you.”

She swallows thickly; I can see the pulse beat nervously in her throat. “Then why are you here?”

“Well, I guess I’m here right now because you just drove us off the road and into the woods.”

“You know what I mean.”

Do, I, though? I sigh. “Because you’re the only person in this town worth talking to who will even look at me.”

She bites her lip and I have the sudden, piercing urge inside my skull to wrap my hands around her throat and drag her onto my lap. That’s some messed up shit. She’s sixteen. Six. TEEN. I’m repeating the number in my head over and over, willing my dick to settle down. I can feel the throb of wanting her in my cock, in the thunderous rush of blood that makes my heart hit my ribcage like the firing of a gun, bang, bang, bang. My need eclipses my rationality. So what if she’s sixteen? She drove into this fucking clearing and licked her lips and asked me if I thought she was pretty.

“Why have you been back to the diner every single night, just as I’m about to get off shift?”

“Umm,” I try. “It’s the only decent place in town?”

She narrows her eyes at me and there’s a fire inside her pupils; it might be below freezing outside, but it’s a billion degrees in here. We’re already fogging up the windows with our breath, and I haven’t even laid a finger on her.

“Liar,” she says. “I want the real reason.”

You’re about to get the real reason, sweetheart. I grip the armrest. I grip it so hard my fingernails ache.

“I’m here because I’m a bad guy, Jennifer.”

“And?”

“Because you’re so pretty I can’t think about anybody else. Because I want to do things to you… that would probably frighten you. Things that might hurt you.”

Her cheeks are flush; her breathing quickens. I haven’t even touched her, and she’s already excited. Or scared. Or both. I want to reach between her thighs and see if it’s lust I’m reading on her face.

“What kinds of things?” she asks.

I cover my face with my hands.

“What kinds of things?” she repeats, a hand on my shoulder. I let my hands fall into my lap and fix my stare on this girl who should be home with her family, not out here in the dark in the woods and snow with a criminal. I watch in awe as she slides her seat back and reaches her hands up underneath her skirt, tugging a pair of panties down her legs and unhooking them from her heels. She can’t look at me as she hands me a pair of baby blue silk panties with a bow on the front. I grip the underwear in my fist so tight I could tear it to shreds with a single pull, but I don’t rip it. I find the damp spot of arousal in the center of the material and bring it up to my face. I close my eyes. I breathe Jennifer in.

I shouldn’t be here. Not with her. Not like this. I will get out of the car, I decide. I will walk home. I will not touch this girl.

But then, “I promise I won’t tell anyone,” she whispers.

Fuck.

I grab her. I drown her shock out with my mouth. I squeeze her slender neck with my prison-rough palms. I keep my promise and I hurt Jennifer Thomas until I’m sated.

It’s only after when I’m looking at the blank expression on her face, the odd tilt of her neck, the bruises blossoming on her spread thighs, that I understand what I have done.

By then, it’s too late.

The night Jennifer Thomas disappears is like all the rest.

Apart from the way it ends.

 

Lili writes dark, delicious romance full of love, lust and revenge. Her USA Today Bestselling Gypsy Brothers series focuses on a morally bankrupt biker gang and the young woman who seeks her vengeance upon them. The Cartel series is a trilogy that explores the beginnings of the club, published through HarperCollins.

Lili quit corporate life to focus on writing and so far is loving every minute of it. Her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband and beautiful daughter, excellent coffee, Tarantino movies and spending hours on Instagram.

She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.

Exclusive Excerpt from Man Down by Krista Ames


MAN DOWN
Author:
Krista Ames
Series: Kendall Ryan’s Imperfect Love World

 

Would it be out of line to run screaming from a wedding where the bride was your sister? Miranda Wentworth wanted to do just that. She hated her sister. The woman had stolen every guy Miranda ever liked, including the groom. She would like nothing more than to remove herself from the nightmare her family called a wedding. If it weren’t for her mother’s dirty looks and a hottie in a leather jacket in the back of the church, she’d leave the place and never come back.

Colt Jensen was the black sheep of a family he didn’t like to be around. He’d never received a formal invitation to a top-of-the line wedding where his brother was marrying his ex’s sister. And they called him the odd one out. Desperate to escape, Colt spotting a bridesmaid leaving the church that fit the description of his perfect woman could only be luck. Right?

Is he up for another short-lived romance with the girl of his dreams or will he be yet another Man Down?

Watching the newly married couple kiss when the preacher ordered it was sour icing on a shit cake.  She couldn’t take any more and if they didn’t end this soon and walk out of the church, she would be doing it herself, only ahead of them.  A move her mother would be less than thrilled about but she didn’t care.  Not anymore.  Nobody cared how this entire day made Miranda feel so she was done with the line of sympathy crap.  There’d been a scolding conversation from her mother every chance she got about how Brock was the perfect match for her sister and she needed to be happy for them.

When had her mother become so petty and oblivious to her surroundings? Brock was not a good guy at all.

Oh thank God.  Emily, the new bride turned toward Miranda who was paying attention this time, to retrieve the bridal bouquet so she and her perfectly disgusting new husband could take their walk of shame and hopefully out of her life forever!!!   With a wrinkle of her nose and a ha ha, he’s mine look, her sister grabbed the flowers and stepped off the platform.

She was next in line with one of the grooms’ brothers who let his eyes travel the length of her, up and down like she was a tasty treat.

“Don’t even think about it buddy. I am so not into brothers so put your eyes and your drooling tongue back in your head.”

Isn’t this day over yet?

Half way out of the church but moving much slower down the aisle than she liked, Miranda was looking anywhere to avoid the creepy stares of the guy holding her arm tighter than he needed to. When she spotted an adorable hunk in a black leather jacket in the very back row, she couldn’t stop staring. Not even when she’d passed his pew or when his eyes had connected with hers.

Now that’s my type of guy.  Then the pompous brute she was walking with jerked her arm, snapping her out of her trance.  She scowled, disconnected his arm from hers before she broke it, and slapped at the man’s unwanted attention.

Tragedy.  She’d probably never see that hot guy again.

 

Cover Reveal: Fault Lines by Rebecca Shea

From USA Today bestselling author, Rebecca Shea, comes a new, heartbreakingly beautiful standalone romance, FAULT LINES. Don’t miss the amazing cover below, and pre-order your copy today!


FAULT LINES
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
Author: Rebecca Shea
Release Date: October 30, 2017
Cover designed by Letitia Hasser of RBA Designs

At eleven he was my first crush. At sixteen he became mine. At nineteen he broke my heart and destroyed me. That was ten years ago and the last time I saw Cole Ryan.

They say you never get over your first love…I beg to differ. I left my shattered heart buried in a town I never expected to return to. I erased every thought of him and buried the memories never to be found.

I moved on…now ten years later I have the perfect life, the perfect fiancé, the perfect career. Everything I ever wanted until I’m forced to go back and face my past and the man that destroyed me.

He won’t stop until I know the truth no matter how hard I fight it. In the end, lies will be uncovered, hearts will be broken, and my life as I’ve come to know it destroyed.

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Pushing through the doors to Manny’s, I see everyone assembled near the bar. Friends and colleagues that I have worked with throughout the years have been waiting on me to arrive to celebrate today’s verdict.

“Congratulations!” Everyone cheers as Ted and I approach the bar. I toss my purse on a bar stool and reach for the glass of white wine that Eduardo, my co-counsel, is holding out for me.

Pressing the cool glass to my lips, I let the smooth wine settle on my tongue before swallowing.

“I’m so damn proud of you.” He leans in and whispers, wrapping one arm around my shoulders.

“I couldn’t have done it without you. I mean that.” I smile at him and squeeze his arm in a gesture of gratitude. Eduardo took me under his wing when I joined the county attorney’s office a little over four years ago. I was an experienced trial lawyer, having learned the ins and outs of trial law with Ted’s firm, but this is new. I’m on the prosecuting end now. This is where I always dreamed to be. Ted’s firm helped me get here and Eduardo has been my mentor and basically my best friend since I arrived.

“I’d be surprised if they even try to appeal,” he says, taking a sip of his vodka tonic. “You were that good. There were no holes in your closing arguments. You presented solid evidence and left nothing for them to come back at us with.”

“She learned from the best,” Ted says, leaning over my shoulder.

Eduardo’s eyes glance away from mine and up to Ted’s. “Mr. Winters,” Eduardo says, reaching out to shake Ted’s. “Nice to see you again.” It’s hard to miss Eduardo’s visible disdain for Ted. His jaw ticks and he swallows hard, but as always, he is the epitome of professional and is always gracious.

“I’ve learned a great deal from both of you.” I smile and wish for the pissing contest to end. “Let’s enjoy our victory.” I hold up my glass of wine to toast, raising my eyebrows, a silent plea to Ted to be nice and he obliges.

“To guilty verdicts,” Eduardo cheers, raising his glass.

Ted gives his head a little shake but reiterates Eduardo’s sentiments.

“To guilty verdicts,” we all repeat and take a drink.

I notice Ted step away to take a phone call and I turn my attention back to Eduardo.

“First and only time I think I’ll ever hear him say that,” Eduardo jokes.

“I think that’s the first and only time I’ll ever hear him say that, too.” I laugh.

My fiancé, Ted Winters, is partner in Winters and Seldon, one of the smallest yet most prestigious law firms in Los Angeles County. Ted is known for representing some of the most high profile, and even dangerous, criminals in California. What cases he doesn’t win, he prides himself on reduced charges, jail time, and fines.

Not guilty—those two words drive him to be the greatest. He’s the best of the best, and he hired me right out of law school. He taught me the way around a courtroom, the best oral arguments, and the tricks to dissect evidence and to look for what everyone else is missing. I took what I learned from Ted and am finally putting it to use as a Deputy District Attorney for Los Angeles County. I always wanted to be on this end of the law, finding justice and doing right by the law.

To avoid any conflict of interest, I avoid all cases where Winters and Seldon is concerned. There are plenty of other prosecutors to try those, and it’s best, both professionally and personally, if I avoid any cases Ted or his firm are involved in.

As I look around the bar at my friends and colleagues, I can’t help but smile proudly at how far I’ve come—and for the people who’ve been with me on this journey.

As my smile fades, I feel the exhaustion hit me like a freight train and, with a few glasses of wine on top of that, I find the need for fresh air. I weave through a sea of bodies in the bar area and push through the large glass door, which leads out onto the rooftop patio. Los Angeles has far from quality air, but pulling the mild summer breeze into my lungs feels good. A sense of calm falls over me as the adrenaline from the day wears off. Carrying the stress of this trial on my shoulders for weeks has wreaked havoc on my sleep, my diet, and exercise, and I can feel the toll it’s taken on my body.

I watch the cars below, crawling along the busy Los Angeles streets, and the hustle and bustle of the city just fifty stories below me. It’s windy up here on the patio, and the soft afternoon breeze whips my hair around. I tilt my face to the sky and let the setting sun cast its warm rays on me when my phone buzzes in my hand. I hesitate, wanting to indulge in a few more moments of silence, but I think better of it.

Glancing down, I see my mom’s home number flashing on the sleek screen of my oversized mobile phone.

“Hi, Mama.” I take a deep breath, excited to hear her voice.

“Frankie?”

My heart sinks when I hear a man’s voice. A voice I could never forget. A voice so familiar that it still haunts me to this day.

Cole. The only person to ever call me Frankie. My heart stills as I wait for him to say more.

“You need to come home,” he says gruffly.

My stomach drops as his voice takes my breath away. The pull it still has on me shakes me to my core. Before he says anything else, I close my eyes and find myself lost in time, back to when I was eleven years old, spending my afternoons down at the fault line, soaking up the last of the days sunlight with Cole by my side.

Crescent Ridge, Nevada resides right on top of a fault line, a town with less than eight hundred people, and sits on the California/Nevada border. A town I left ten years ago and haven’t returned to—because of Cole.


Rebecca Shea
is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Unbreakable series (Unbreakable, Undone, and Unforgiven) and the Bound and Broken series (Broken by Lies and Bound by Lies). She lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her family. From the time Rebecca could read she has had a passion for books. Rebecca spends her days working and her nights writing, bringing stories to life. Born and raised in Minnesota, Rebecca moved to Arizona in 1999 to escape the bitter winters. When not working or writing, she can be found on the sidelines of her sons’ football games, or watching her daughter at ballet class. Rebecca is fueled by insane amounts of coffee, margaritas, Laffy Taffy (except the banana ones), and happily ever afters.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads

Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway: Of Flame And Fate by @cecyrobson

OF FLAME AND FATE
Series:
 Weird Girls Flame #2
Genre:
Urban Fantasy
Author: Cecy Robson
Release Date: September 26, 2017

 

Taran Wird, who commands the power to wield fire and lightning, is an oddity in the supernatural world. But neither Taran nor her unique sisters compare to the bizarre entity known as Destiny. And Taran is assigned to protect her.

Born of two witches, Destiny is revered among the supernatural elite for her acute ability to predict the future. Her biggest prophecy involves Taran’s sister, Celia, whom Destiny decreed will bear children strong enough to take on the evil that’s rising. Yet Destiny is not alone in her predictions, or individuality.

When Johnny Fate, a rock star among humans and a male version of Destiny is discovered, his powers and Destiny’s clash, triggering the start of Destiny’s demise and altering the fate of Celia’s unborn children.

Taran, her werewolf lover Gemini, and their allies must determine if it’s Fate who will decide what will become of Celia’s children, or if their lives and the world will perish with Destiny.

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OF FLAME AND FATE ExcerptCopyright © 2017 Cecy Robson

Gemini and his twin growl at the pack of weres gathered in front of us. I pull up the blanket covering me as they scatter. Weres are used to being naked around each other in human form, but I’m not a were, and because of it, they’ve never seen me naked.

Until tonight, cause, don’t I know how to put on a show?

The next set of growls from him and his twin have them all hopping inside their vehicles and cranking the engines. The lights from the cars in front of us cast a gleam against the angles of his face, sharpening the menace plaguing his features.

He’s angry, and he should be. As a non-were different rules apply to me, one of them being they shouldn’t stare at his naked girlfriend.

He powers across the blue slate-lined double driveway, causing the dusting of pine needles covering it to stream past the window. I wait until we clear the wrought iron gates at the entrance to the compound before placing my hand on his thigh. But it’s not until we pass the miles of stone wall surrounding Misha’s property that I speak again.

“That probably looked pretty bad, huh?” I ask.

He clenches his jaw tight, enough to strain the cords along his neck. “Which part? The part where I find you surrounded by vampires pouring champagne over your naked body?”

“Um . . .”

“Or do you mean getting the call that a parasitic demon has infested your leg and is attempting to make your body its nesting ground—then watching it try and claw its way to your heart?”

CECY ROBSON is an author of contemporary romance, young adult adventure, and award-winning urban fantasy. A double RITA® 2016 finalist for Once Pure and Once Kissed, and a published author of more than eighteen titles, you can typically find her on her laptop writing her stories or stumbling blindly in search of caffeine.

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DGRFave Review, Character Interview & Excerpt: ACT YOUR AGE by @Eve_Dangerfield

ACT YOUR AGE
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Author: Eve Dangerfield
Release Date: September 27, 2017

Just because Kate ‘Middleton’ McGrath, wants a man to call ‘daddy’ in bed doesn’t mean—
Oh, you stopped reading. Cool.

Kate gets it. Kinks aren’t for everyone. Hell, they’re probably not for Mr. Henderson, her grumpaholic boss. She really shouldn’t have crush on him, but the man is just so goddamn stern. Sure, a lot of that comes down to ‘being her boss,’ but still, it feels like there might be something there.

Tyler Henderson is a golden boy who’s lost his shine. He’s old, his dream career is over, his fiancée’s left him. Now all the former firefighter can do is to try and bury his troubles in paperwork and hard liquor. He says ‘try’ because he can’t get Middleton out of his head long enough to wallow properly. He’s not going anywhere near the girl. HR issues aside, he’s done with sweetness and things don’t come sweeter than a cupcake-baking engineer who knits her own hats.

A case of mistaken identity causes Kate and Ty’s attraction to give way to blistering sex. They have more in common—and more to lose—than either of them realized. When it comes to unreasonable attraction you can rarely change your mind but can you act your age?

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There was less than five minutes until she was due to see Ty. Needing something to do with her hands, she pulled out the folded piece of paper she intended to give him.It was a bit high school, but she’d decided a note was the best way to proposition him. She would walk into Ty’s office, say hello, place the note on his desk and then leave. She would not linger saying things like ‘obsessed with you,’ ‘can’t stop thinking about you,’ and ‘would literally stab someone in a non-essential organ to hook up with you again, Mr Henderson. Please have sex with me, or I will die.’

The note was short, sweet and to the point; I know you told me to forget what happened in your hotel room, but I can’t. I want more. If you’re interested, look up my profile on Kinkworld. My user name is @LolaJones.

She felt silly even writing the word ‘Kinkworld’ to Ty, much less directing him to her profile, but it would explain everything so much better than she could. The alarm she’d set on her phone began to chime, soft bells increasing in volume. Kate turned it off and tucked her note into a tiny side pocket on her skirt. There it was perfectly positioned so she could pull it out and hand it smoothly to Ty, like a flight attendant giving a passenger a microwaved omelet.

“Now or never,” she told herself. “It’s now or never.”

Kate knew exactly how many strides it took to get to Ty’s office—two hundred and nine—but today there seemed to be half that. A quarter of that. She was near him in record time, hearing strains of what she knew was blues music came through his open doorway. Ty loved the blues. It was one of the many arbitrary, stalkerish things she knew about him. She felt the sickening lurch of dizziness and slapped herself as quietly as she could. Her vision immediately sharpened. Kate straightened her lace headband and forced her legs to carry her into Ty’s office. For a panicky moment she wondered why he wasn’t there, then realised he was hidden by his huge computer monitor. The top of his blond head was visible, so was a big hand drumming the top of his cordless mouse. He gave no indication he’d heard her come in.

Kate opened her mouth then closed it, her heart fluttering against her ribs like a panicky hummingbird.

I can’t do this, she thought and took a huge step backward.

“Middleton,” Ty’s computer said. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t sound angry, just mildly inconvenienced, as though she were a door-to-door salesperson trying to sell him cleaning products. Kate swallowed. “I just…”

Her voice was a thing of ridicule, so girly and crackly it was embarrassing. She swallowed again, trying to wet her throat and sound more like a grown up and less like a Disney mouse. “I wanted to ask you something?”

“And that is?”

“I was wondering…I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

She let out a soft wheezy breath. Maria hadn’t prepared her for this. Nothing had prepared her for this. The top of Ty’s head was more intimidating than a gang of youths loitering around a train station at night. She couldn’t just hand him a folded up note like they were in primary school. Why had she ever thought that was a good idea? As of now, her mission was over. She stared around Ty’s office for something she could talk about instead. Desks? Lamps? A big swirly painting by some abstract artist Ty had probably had sex with? Then her gaze fell on the only thing in the room more disturbing than a sex-painting, a fancy crystal tumbler full of brown liquid. Jackpot. “I just wanted to say, you shouldn’t be drinking at work. It’s really unprofessional.”

That got Ty to move out from behind his monitor. “What?

Dear lord what was wrong with her?

“Erm, nothing,” Kate stammered. “Except…except you’re not supposed to drink at work. It’s a violation of our HR policy, you know, like why we can’t have beer at the Friday barbecue?”

Ty stared at her as though he’d never seen something quite so ridiculous in all his life and now that he had he needed time to process it. Despite her terror, Kate couldn’t help noticing he’d had a haircut. The shorter style brought out the hard planes of his face to perfection and emphasised his eyes. For someone who could glare better than Clint Eastwood, they were a surprisingly warm shade of blue, like a favourite pair of jeans, faded and so comfy she could sleep in them.

“You came here,” he said slowly. “To tell me off about drinking at work?”

“Erm, yeah,” Kate said, figuring it was too late to back down now.

“I see.” Ty raised his tumbler to his mouth and took a slow, deliberate swig.

That’s just mean, Kate thought. “Okay, now that we’ve talked I should probably head home. See you tomorrow!”

Ty bared his teeth in something that definitely wasn’t a smile. “Before you go, Middleton, I want you to tell me something.”

“Yes?” she asked nervously.

“If you’re so concerned with workplace practices, why is it every time I turn around, I’m looking at you bent over in a skirt so tight you couldn’t slide a piece of paper between the fabric and your ass?”

Kate’s legs got that watery I’m-going-to-collapse-underneath-you feeling. God, what was happening? She was supposed to slink in, drop the note on Ty’s desk and slink away, leaving him with nothing but a great view of her butt and the uncontrollable urge to check out her Kinkworld profile. How in the hell had it come to this? “I don’t…this isn’t about me doing that to you. Not that I’m doing that to you, I’m not doing anything to you. Or anyone.”

Ty sighed, picked up his tumbler and drained the whole thing before putting it down with a clunk. “Shut my door.”

Kate stared at him. “Do you mean…with me on the other side of it?”

Another, even more cumbersome, sigh. “I mean, shut that door so that you and I are alone in the same fucking room and hurry up about it because I’m getting impatient.”

Without thinking, Kate turned and shut the door. The latch clicked neatly into place, sealing her in a confined area with Tyler Henderson.

“Middleton.” His voice was rough and smooth, smoke and raw honey. “Walk your ass over here.”

Kate’s body prickled all over and again she obeyed his words before her brain could even process them, taking small, neat steps towards him the way she had when she was the flower girl at her sister’s wedding. The air between her and Ty seemed to surge with an energy that grew stronger with each forward pace. Music poured from his computer, mingling with the electric air, a woman with a throaty voice singing about the devil in a way that felt both prophetic and highly appropriate.

“So…” Tyler Henderson said, tugging his black silk tie so that the knot loosened around his neck. “Here we are again.”

“And that’s…where, exactly?”

“You know exactly where. Look at me.”

She looked at him, or rather his chin, which was as far up as her line of vision could go.

“You came waltzing in here to ask me to turn you out,” Ty said quietly. “The least you can do is look me in the eyes.”

Kate inhaled, and with all her remaining strength, managed to meet his gaze.

Ty’s irises weren’t the colour of lived-in denim anymore, they were the bright blue of an electrical fire. As their eyes locked she felt a surge arc through her body, excitement so all-encompassing she could barely breathe. He was giving her a look no boss would give their employee unless they wanted a one-way ticket to sexual-harrassmentville. It said she’d been a bad girl and he wanted to punish her for it. Kate’s nipples went stiff against her bra, dampness saturated the cotton between her legs. Ever since Bendigo she hadn’t been able to get herself off and yet now, without Ty doing or saying anything, Kate knew she could have shoved her hands into her panties and been there inside a couple of strokes. It was black magic. Evil magic. “W-What now?” she asked.

“Now, we discuss why you’re here.” Ty reached beneath his desk and pulled out a bottle with red wax around the rim. He filled his tumbler slowly, as though he had all the time in the world. The thin trickle of liquid sounded as loud as a waterfall. A white spot burst in front of her eyes and if she could have gotten away with slapping herself, she would have.

Ty took a swig of what she assumed was whiskey, wincing slightly, as though it was a strong but necessary medicine. “So,” he said again. “I tell you it’s a bad idea for us to fuck each other and you decide a good way to respect that decision would be to wear fuck-me clothes to work and show me your ass at every given opportunity. Walk me through that reasoning, Middleton.”

Kate said nothing. Heat was prickled all over her, as though her blood was trying to force its way through her skin like sweat.

“Gone shy, have you?” Ty asked. “Weren’t so shy when you bent over the printer without any panties on.”

And she’d been silly enough to wonder if he’d noticed. She licked her upper lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh yeah?” Ty put his hands behind his head and reclined in his chair. “I don’t believe you. I think you enjoyed getting me all cranked up, knowing I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Kate could barely believe her ears. He’d given no indication, none, that he’d so much as noticed her new wardrobe, let alone that it had gotten him hot and bothered. “I promise I wasn’t—”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Kate remembered they were alone, that the entire floor—maybe the whole building—was empty. Her heartbeat thumped inside her ears. “I’m not playing dumb, I don’t know what you mean.”

“So you didn’t come here tonight to ask me to screw you? And you haven’t been wearing sexy clothes to work because you want me to change my mind about the two of us and plant my dick between your legs?”

Kate opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Ty gave another world-weary sigh. “What am I gonna do with you, girl?”

The words were uttered in the same dark tone men spoke in Kate’s mind when they announced she was going to be spanked. She extended a foot backward.

“Don’t move,” Ty said calmly and she froze. “I—”

“Don’t speak either.”

She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, everything inside her was suddenly very still.

Ty tossed back his drink, reached under his desk for the bottle and refilled his tumbler. Dimly, Kate tried to memorise the shape, the colours on the label. She didn’t like any hard liquor but rum, but she’d go to Dan Murphy’s and buy a bottle just to taste the way he tasted right now.

Ty took another swallow from his tumbler and swiped a hand over his mouth. “You came here tonight looking to get your little off-limits pussy played with, is that right?”

“No, I—”

“Don’t lie.” Ty’s blue eyes were hard as stone. “Don’t lie to me and don’t try and explain what I already know. Just answer the question.”

Kate licked her lips again. She’d done this so many times in the past hour, they were starting to grow puffy. The lips between her legs felt exactly the same way only wetter. Her fear of disobeying him was melding into the excitement of knowing this was all in his hands, that he could use her as he wished, command her to do anything he wanted.

“Yes,” she heard herself say. “I came here for that.”

“I know.” Ty tapped the rim of his tumbler in time with the music, clink, clink, clink. He was looking through her into nothingness, weighing something up in his mind. Kate wanted to argue her case but she just stood there, still and silent. Waiting.

Ty ran a hand through his hair, the gold strands falling like waves of wheat. “When you decided to experiment with clothes that get my dick hard, you know what you did, Middleton?”

Kate shook her head.

“You went from being the office sweetheart to the girl everyone pictures getting dressed in the morning. If I broke up one conversation about your legs, I did it a million times.”

Kate inhaled. Surely that wasn’t right? Not only had she not caught anyone perving but you’d think that response would have inspired some of the guys to be nice to her, not act like she was carrying blood-borne pathogens.

“Wasn’t enjoyable,” Ty said, unaware of her confusion. “Wasn’t fun watching every other fucker in this office pant after you. I didn’t appreciate it one bit. Don’t appreciate much of anything you’ve done since I told you you weren’t getting my cock. So here’s what I’m thinking…”

He rapped a knuckle on the desk, the sound sharp as a starter’s pistol. “Take off that ridiculous skirt, lie your ass across my lap and we’ll see what I can teach you about obeying orders.”

DGR: Welcome Ty! I’m super thrilled to have you at DGR today. And you even brought Kate along…

Hey, thanks for having us. Happy to be here.

DGR: So let’s start simple. Coffee or tea?

Ty: Either or. Melbourne is coffee snob central though so I’ll go with coffee so my barista doesn’t stab me.

Kate: I have a lot of romantic associations with coffee. I actually started drinking coffee so I had an excuse to ask Ty if he wanted a coffee at the office.

Ty: that’s adorable Middleton.
Kate: Thanks, I’m pretty embarrassed about that’s to be honest.

DGR: What are your hobbies? What do you do when you’re not working?

*Ty and Kate look at one another*

Ty: uh…personal stuff.

Kate: yeah when we’re not working we’re usually…together. Although if we’re not doing that I like knitting. I’m knitting Ty a jumper right now.

Ty: that’s also pretty fucking adorable, Middleton.

DGR: Let’s talk about relationships. What are your thoughts on commitment and forever?

Kate: I’m a pretty committed person, I’ve had the same bonsai tree for ages now.  

Ty: I think they’re talking about our relationship, Middleton.

Kate: ohhh

Ty: my thoughts on commitment and forever are varied, but in terms of our relationship I’m committed to spending as much of forever together with Katie as possible.

DGR: Ty, how would you describe your perfect woman?

Ty: she’s sitting next to me.

DGR: Kate? Same question to you.

My perfect woman would be if Beyoncé and Shirley from Garbage had a baby.

DGR: we mean your perfect man.

Kate: oh, right, sure. Well my perfect man is pretty much Ty. I mean, he is kind of grouchy but that’s part of his charm. He’s also pretty ripped.

Ty: Babe…

Kate: Well you are. Really, I think that when you fall in love with someone it’s even more amazing because they have all these traits and habits you never expected. They’re all the more perfect for surprising you if that makes any sense?

DGR: What’s your perfect kind of sex? Kinky? Vanilla? Dirty? C’mon, share with us dirty girls. *wiggles brows*

Ty: Middleton, I’m gonna let you take this one.

Kate: My perfect kind of sex is the kind that leaves me shaking and covered in sweat and bruises and like I said, Ty really is my perfect man…

DGR: So Ty, you keep glaring over at Kate over there. Anything going on between you two, or is that your usual look?

Ty: Christ, people keep saying I’m grumpy, but have you met people? Are you really all that surprised?

Kate: Yeah, Ty doesn’t really suffer fools, but he’s a sweetheart underneath all the scowls. Just like his friend Georgie always says ‘Tyler, you act all tough but deep down you’re a big pu—”

Ty: That’s enough Katie or you and I are going to go and have a little ‘talk’ in the stairwell after this interview.

DGR: If you had to describe yourself in 5 words or less, what would they be?

Kate: peppy, nice, smart, big-eyed and happy.

Ty: succinct.

DGR: What do you feel is your strongest personal asset?

Ty: I work hard and stand by what I believe in.

Kate: I can forgive people whole-heartedly because I know we all make mistakes and deep down we just want to be happy.

Ty: That is a good asset of yours Middleton.

Kate: thanks.

DGR: What do you think is your biggest flaw?

Ty: Overthinking shit.

Kate: Not speaking up when I should

DGR: What do you think others think of you?

Ty: as an Australian male I am culturally-bound to say I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me.

Kate: I used to care what people think of me and my relationship with Ty and our um, personal interests, but I’ve become a lot more comfortable in my own skin lately. I hope people think I’m nice, because I try to be nice, but you can never control what other people think of you so it’s not really worth wondering.

DGR: What is one thing you want most out of life?

Ty: to grow old, or older, with Middleton at my side and know that I’m making her happy.
Kate: *blushes furiously* the same thing, except that I’d also really like to see the Grand Canyon.

Ty: We’re going to America next year babe. We’ll get you there.

DGR: Anything you’d like to tell us before we wrap things up?

Kate: We hope people like reading our book and that they enjoy hearing about the more um, personal aspects of our relationship. They’re missing out though, Ty’s penis is even better than it sounds—  

Ty: Middleton, stairwell. Now.

You’re a Catholic, aren’t you?” Ty asked…
She nodded and he put his mouth right beside the pretty pink shell of her ear. “If I fuck you, you’ll think all your prayers have been answered. I’ll make you see god, Middleton. I’ll make you think I am god.”

Confession time: I hate the daddy thing in books. HATE IT. It’s ruined way too many books for me. I avoid it like a bad case of the clap. As in, I don’t touch it with a ten foot pole or a stranger’s vagina. No go. No way. No how…. Unless Eve Dangerfield writes it. Know why? Because this author has a knack for giving me some of the most unique, quirky, unconventional characters and making me fall head over ovaries!

I loved this book. I adored every word. I laughed myself silly and avoided reading it public. It was FUCKING AWESOME! Full gushing review to come. But for now, all you need to know is that you NEED this on your TBRs. And if you’re a daddy avoider like me, Ty will make you a believer. Though Eve is still the only exception I have for the daddy thing, because…reasons.

Every time he saw her face, with its upturned nose and lightly freckled cheeks, he wanted to do terrible fucking things to it. Up close he was powerless against thoughts of tearing her out of her high-necked, knee-length clothes and keeping her naked in his bed for a week. Transform her from a good girl into a writhing animal who lived to pleasure his dick. This was why he never fucking talked to her.

This book was magic. Flawlessly written, make you squirm uncomfortably and laugh out loud magic. Eve Dangerfield is a phenomenal author. She has this signature quirky and endearing quality to her writing that makes the story not only unique but fun. She writes completely unconventional characters that I really don’t think any other author but her can pull off. And boy does she pull it off!

What made this book with this particular kink as good as it was, was the incredible characterization. Both Ty and Kate are multi-layered and so well developed, that you completely understand why they crave what they do.

Ty wasn’t religious, but his desire to play daddy from such a young age made him wonder if reincarnation wasn’t real. It felt like he’d inherited another man’s tastes. As though some higher power had said ‘Daddy is the word, and the word is Daddy and Daddy is the only thing that will turn your crank. Also you have a sadistic streak, enjoy that. Amen.’

Ty was one broody, sexy, dominant 45 year old with a sadistic side that you can’t help but salivate over. And Kate is definitely salivating. She’s been salivating after him since she met him on her first day on the job almost two years ago. And as long as she’s been lusting after him, Ty has been coldly ignoring her.

Her obsession wasn’t even original. Everyone had a crush on Tyler Henderson. Women, gay men, straight men, more perceptive animals. It was like having a crush on a Hemsworth brother—it made you basic as hell.

Kate is endearingly quirky, with daddy issues of a different order and a bad case of ADHD. Now I ask you, how often do you read that? But don’t think this 25 year old is some bubbly ball of fluff. She’s all woman, even if she’s lusting after a man twice her age. She’s a woman that knows what she wants and goes after it. She also has some of the best internal dialogue ever.

Before Kate could psych herself out, she slid down the bed, climbing over his hard thighs so that she was face-to-penis with his penis. It was even more intimidating up close, not to mention stretching the hell out of his expensive-looking briefs. Why would anyone have a cock this big? Like, genetically? Surely it was more of a burden than anything else?
Never mind that. Concentrate on befriending it.

This book was not mindless smut and kinky fuckery. Well, there WAS kinky fuckery and it was most certainly smutty. But it also had a well developed plot and well developed kinks.

Sexually inexperienced as she might be, Kate was and always had been kinkier than a bag of zig-zags. It felt like she’d been born that way, craving things she didn’t understand way before she reached sexual maturity. The dad in Taken had a particular set of skills, she had a particular set of fantasies. Unlike her, they weren’t polite, they weren’t nice, and they didn’t leave when they were asked.

Act Your Age is a book that will take you out of your comfort zone and make you enjoy every kinky second of it. It’s a book that will put a goofy smile on your face and then make your ovaries burn with the fire of a million sexual fires. It was flawlesly written, completely unique, and totally unforgettable. And did I mention RIDICULOUSLY HOT?!

When we play like this, you’ll call me Daddy, understood?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
She looked down at her hands. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good, because we’re going to play like this a lot.” Ty pulled her onto his lap, arranging her legs so she was straddling him. “I need pussy like most men need water and your new job is making sure I never get thirsty.”


I’m a forever fan of this author and her books are an auto-buy for me. Act Your Age is the perfect reason why.

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels since she first started swiping her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own sexy tales about complex women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Her work has been described as ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now,’ and not by herself, or even her mum, but by OTHER PEOPLE.  Eve lives in Melbourne with her boy, a bunch of semi-dead plants and a rabbit named Billy. When she’s not writing she can usually be found making a big ol’ mess. Act Your Age is her seventh novel.

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Review & Excerpt: His Hand Me Down Countess by Sorcha Mowbray

HIS HAND ME DOWN COUNTESS
Series: The Lustful Lords #1
Genre: Historical Romance, Erotic
Author: Sorcha Mowbray
Release Date: September 20, 2017

His brother’s untimely death leaves him with an Earldom and a fiancée. Too bad he wants neither of them…

Theodora Lawton has no need of a husband. As an independent woman, she wants to own property, make investments and be the master of her destiny. Unfortunately, her father signed her life away in a marriage contract to the future Earl of Stonemere. But then the cad upped and died, leaving her fate in the hands of his brother, one of the renowned Lustful Lords.

Achilles Denton, the Earl of Stonemere, is far more prepared to be a soldier than a peer. Deeply scarred by his last tour of duty, he knows he will never be a proper, upstanding pillar of the empire. Balanced on the edge of madness, he finds respite by keeping a tight rein on his life, both in and out of the bedroom. His brother’s death has left him with responsibilities he never wanted and isn’t prepared to handle in the respectable manner expected of a peer.

Further complicating his new life is an unwanted fiancée who comes with his equally unwanted title. Saddled with a hand-me-down countess, he soon discovers the woman is a force unto herself. As he grapples with the burden of his new responsibilities, he discovers someone wants him dead. The question is, can he stay alive long enough to figure out who’s trying to kill him while he tries to tame his headstrong wife?

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London, May 1860Stone heard the butler intone his name and title loudly enough for all of London to hear, let alone the population of the Devonses’ ballroom. Had anyone suggested three years ago he would bear the family title, Earl of Stonemere, never mind be contemplating his future nuptials, he would certainly have laughed. True, he never actually laughed anymore, but he certainly would have found such a claim incredulous.

It was no longer an amusing matter.

Having survived the receiving line, he eased through the crowded ballroom. Every few feet, he stopped to speak with one acquaintance or another. Not so long ago, these same people would have been running for the hills and hiding their daughters. But fate, a fickle mistress to say the least, had other plans.

Moving with a quickness born of desperation, he barely acknowledged the next three men as the heat from the crowd paired with the stench of perfumes and body odor to choke him. After his service in India, crowded entertainments such as a ball had grown difficult to endure. The press of bodies and the loud murmur of conversation punctuated by the occasional shrill laugh smothered him, too similar to the roar of battle and the cries of the dying.

Moving past a swarm of silk skirts, he spotted a dark, hidden alcove, an oasis from the overwhelming onslaught, both real and imagined. If he could shut it down quickly enough, he wouldn’t embarrass himself. If he failed, all of London would learn just how broken he was.

He was an earl. Not a soldier. Never again a soldier.

Once the cool darkness enveloped him, he opened his mouth and drew a breath. His pounding pulse eased as the vise around his chest released and his damp skin dried. After another quarter hour spent tucked away, he believed he could manage the crowd long enough to find his betrothed.

As any good officer would, he had a strategy. Find her, claim his dances, and then await each one either on the balcony or on the dance floor, if required. Even the cardrooms at these soirees bordered on disabling.

He reached for the drapes to his hideaway, but hesitated as two women tittered in the immediate vicinity.

“Why, Gladys, I heard his name announced earlier. I’m certain Matilda invited Stonemere despite all the gossip.”

“I simply cannot imagine what she was thinking,” the one called Gladys said.

“Can’t you? Having one of the Lustful Lords in attendance at your ball? I daresay everyone who is anyone will wish to be able to say they were here. It’s all so deliciously scandalous and yet possible now the unmitigated rake is off the market.” Gladys’s friend sighed with a bit more drama than anyone in their right mind or otherwise would deem necessary.

“Well, one should hope that man can contain himself what with all these poor young virgins parading around. It would serve Matilda right if he debauched each and every one of them while here under her auspices.”

“Oh, do be sensible, Gladys. He could perhaps ruin four or five in one night, but all of them?”

Past ready to find his fiancée and escape his hidey-hole, he stepped out next to the ladies in question, turned to them, and bowed over each of their hands. The shock on their faces far outweighed any notion of good manners on his part. “Why, ladies, you both give me far more credit than I deserve. Even in my heyday of debauchery, I could only service three ladies in a single evening.”

As the two ladies sputtered, he departed their corner. The temptation to turn and wink at the gossipers won out, which caused another round of tittering and sputtering from behind him. Of course, he was well aware of what proper Society called himself and his friends. But the Marquess of Flintshire, Earl of Brougham, Baron Lincolnshire, and Viscount Wolfington—as well as himself—held little regard for polite society. Each of them had learned the hard way that they had no place amongst their peers.

He hadn’t claimed her as truly his, and he did not suspect he ever would in any way that satisfied his sexual hunger. He doubted his pretty wife would appreciate how he wanted to strap her to his bed and demand she acknowledge him as her lord and master in the most primeval of ways.

I love a sexy historical romance, and Sorcha Mowbray has me hooked with book one in her Lustful Lords series. The series title is definitely appropriate, because this book isn’t just hot, it’s SCORCHING.

Aptly dubbed as one of the Lustful Lords, known for their sexual debauchary, Achilles Denton, the Earl of Stonemere is anything but proper.

His brother’s death leaves him forced to take a title he never desired, and wed a woman that would likely be scandalized down to her bones if she ever learned his true nature. Shy and sweet Theodora Lawton was once his brother’s finance and in Stone’s opinion, was a better match for his brother than him. But duty is duty and The House Of Lords made their decision and he has a duty to uphold.

But sweet and soft spoken Theo is not at all what she seems. Beneath the manners and the innocent beauty is a tigress; a woman that has a wild streak as large as her independent one. She knows her new husband isn’t giving her everything that he is, and she’s determined to bring the beast out.

This was a ridiculously sexy romance with a delicious mix of BDSM elements. Stone is controlling, domineering, protective, and if it takes a proper spanking to make his sassy wife see reason, he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. Theo is not afraid to give as hard as she gets, and let me just tell you, she gets it HARD. Uhem. *dirty grin*

While the sex was super hot, at times it was a bit much and distracted from the story. Though if you like super sexy reads, you definitely won’t be complaining. I’m just pickier than most *sheepish grin*
The suspense part of the story felt a bit on the slow side, but I appreciated the way the author resolved it. She wrote one empowered heroine with Theo and I got to love that.

Sorcha definitely has a new fan in this reader and I can’t wait for more in this series and more of deliciously kinky Lusty Lords (particularly since one hints at an MMF situation). If you like super hot historical romances, this one will definitely hit the spot.

Sorcha Mowbray is a mild mannered office worker by day…okay, so she is actually a mouthy, opinionated, take charge kind of gal who bosses everyone around; but she definitely works in an office. At night she writes romance so hot she sets the sheets on fire! Just ask her slightly singed husband.

She is a longtime lover of historical romance, having grown up reading Johanna Lindsey and Judith McNaught. Then she discovered Thea Devine and Susan Johnson. Holy cow! Heroes and heroines could do THAT? From there, things devolved into trying her hand at writing a little smexy. Needless to say, she liked it and she hopes you do too!

For more information about Sorcha, please visit her website, “Like” Sorcha on Facebook and follow her on TwitterInstagram and Goodreads. Join Sorcha’s newsletter to be the first to hear about upcoming releases. She’s loves hearing from her readers. Email her directly at sorcha@sorchamowbray.com

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