Sunday, 8 October 2017

~*~*~NEW RELEASE~*~*~ HIDEAWAY BY PENELOPE DOUGLAS


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Title: Hideaway
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Author: Penelope Douglas
Release Date: October 2nd, 2017


Synopsis:
DEVIL'S NIGHT is returning! Hiding places, chases, and all the games are back...
BANKS
Buried in the shadows of the city, there’s a hotel called The Pope. Ailing, empty, and dark—it sits abandoned and surrounded by a forgotten mystery.
But you think it’s true, don’t you, Kai Mori? The story about the hidden twelfth floor. The mystery of the dark guest who never checked in and never checks out. You think I can help you find that secret hideaway and get to him, don’t you?
You and your friends can try to scare me. You can try to push me. Because even though I struggle to hide everything I feel when you look at me—and have ever since I was a girl—I think that maybe what you seek is so much closer than you’ll ever realize.
I will never betray him.
So sit tight.
On Devil’s Night, the hunt will be coming to you.
KAI
You have no idea what I seek, Little One. You don’t know what I had to become to survive three years in prison for a crime I would gladly commit again.
No one can know what I’ve turned into.
I want that hotel, I want to find him, and I want this over.
I want my life back.
But the more I’m around you, the more I realize this new me is exactly who I was meant to be.
So come on, kid. Don’t chicken out. My house is on the hill. So many ways in, and good luck finding your way out.
I’ve seen your hideaway. Time to see mine.
*Hideaway is a romantic suspense suitable for ages 18+. While the romance is a stand-alone, the plot is a continuation of events that began in CORRUPT (Devil's Night, #1). It is strongly recommended that you have read Corrupt prior to reading this. It is currently on sale for $0.99.

















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About The Author:
Penelope Douglas is a full-time writer living in Las Vegas with her husband and their daughter. When she's not writing or reading, she loves road-tripping, touring retired, old ships, and pinning anything not nailed down.
Her books include the Fall Away series (Bully, Until You, Rival, Falling Away, Aflame, and Next to Never) and the Devil's Night series (Corrupt and Hideaway (and Kill Switch and Nightfall--not yet released). Please look for her stand-alones Misconduct and Punk 57. Available now.
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Giveaway:

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~*~*~COVER REVEAL~*~*~ DEFIANT QUEEN & SINFUL EMPIRE BY MEGHAN MARCH

 

We are excited to bring you the final two covers in the MOUNT TRILOGY today! DEFIANT QUEEN releasing on November 14 and SINFUL EMPIRE releasing on December 19th!

      The Mount Trilogy continues with Defiant Queen... I’m his entertainment. His toy. Payment on a debt. I tell myself I hate him, but every time he walks into the room, my body betrays me. How can I want him and fear him in the same moment? They told me he’d mess with my head. Make it go to war with my body. But I didn’t realize it would be complete anarchy. I should’ve known better. When Mount’s involved, there are no rules. I will not surrender. I will not show weakness. I’ll stand my ground and make it out of this bargain with my heart and soul intact. But he has other plans . . . Defiant Queen is the second book of the Mount Trilogy. Mount and Keira's story concludes in Sinful Empire. ADD TO GOODREADS

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        The Mount Trilogy concludes with Sinful Empire!   What’s mine, I keep, and that includes Keira Kilgore. It’s no longer enough to have her in my debt. No longer enough to own her body. I want something more. She can try to resist, but I’ll never give her up. Nothing will keep us apart. Not her. Not my enemies. No one. Her debt will only be paid one way—with her heart. Sinful Empire is the third and final book in the Mount Trilogy. ADD TO GOODREADS

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        Get ready for the darker and dirtier side of New Orleans with a brand new alpha romance from USA Today bestselling author Meghan March.

New Orleans belongs to me. You don’t know my name, but I control everything you see—and all the things you don’t. My reach knows no bounds, and my demands are always met. I didn’t need to loan money to a failing family distillery, but it amuses me to have them in my debt. To have her in my debt. She doesn’t know she caught my attention. She should’ve been more careful. I’m going to own her. Consume her. Maybe even keep her. It’s time to collect what I’m owed. Keira Kilgore, you’re now the property of Lachlan Mount. *Ruthless King is book one of the Mount Trilogy*   ADD TO GOODREADS  

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meghanmarchpic
Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She's also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she's ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.

Monday, 2 October 2017

~*~*~BLOG TOUR~*~*~ STILL BY KENNEDY RYAN

STILL BANNER BT.jpg
"Grip is my ultimate...If I was forced, gun-to-the head, to make one book boyfriend real to be mine, it would be him. No questions asked."
-- Adriana Locke, USA Today Bestselling Author

STILL, the sexy,emotional final installment of the GRIP series,

is available NOW!

Still-book-cover-front Enter the $50 Gift Card Release Giveaway! http://bit.ly/StillLIVEGive I'll be there. Through thick and thin. Ride or die. You can count on me. The promises people make. The vows we take. Assumptions of the heart. Emotion tells us how we feel, but life...life has a way of plunging us in boiling water, burning away our illusions, testing our faith, trying our convictions. Love floating is a butterfly, but love tested is an anchor. For Grip and Bristol, Love started at the top of the world On a Ferris wheel under the stars But when that love is tested, will they fly or fall?

Excerpt:

“Mmmmm, that looks good.” The comment grabs my attention, and I find myself smiling for the first time since I left Bristol. As she walks toward me, the approaching sunset paints the roof in shadows, but I see her clearly. Dark hair, burnished in places, falls around her shoulders. She has already discarded the dress she wore at lunch today in favor of a T-shirt and nothing else; it’s the one I just tossed into the hamper. She tugs at my HABITUAL LINE STEPPER T-shirt, the hem landing at the top of her thighs. Where the T-shirt stops, my eyes keep going, past the lean muscles of her legs and the cut of her calves, the delicate bones of her ankles and to her bare feet. I love this girl, head to toe. Beyond this gorgeous packaging, it’s everything beneath that makes me beyond grateful she’s mine. The loyalty, the bottomless pit that is her heart, her sense of humor. The toughest girl I know is also the most tender, and I’m so honored I get to see both sides, all her sides. “You out of clean clothes?” I nod to my T-shirt. “You gotta wear my dirty stuff now?” An impish smile tugs at her bare lips. She’s washed away her makeup, and with it, all the sophistication she wraps around herself for her job. Up on this roof in my T-shirt, she’s just my girl. I love her in every iteration, but this is the one only I get to see, so it’s probably my favorite. “I have clean clothes.” She steps close enough for me to smell her scent and mine mingling in the fabric. “I like the way this shirt smells.” I drop a look over her, my eyes resting on the curves of her breasts in the soft cotton, where her nipples have gone taut under my stare. “How does the shirt smell?” I ask, my voice as smoky as the steaks I should be paying attention to. “Like you.” She leans forward until her breasts press into my chest. “It smells like you.” My hands are twitching to touch her, and I finally surrender, slipping under the shirt to grasp her waist, pulling her up the few inches until our lips meet. I’ve been thinking about these steaks all day, and before Bristol arrived, I thought I was starving—but this, what I feel having her in my arms after hours apart, this is starving. It starts in my balls and tunnels up through my chest, infiltrates my heart, and presses its way to my mouth, which is open and devouring in a lips-searching, tongues-dueling kiss. I grip her by the ass, grinding our bodies together until the texture of her skin and mine, the scents of her skin and mine meld into this one panting, voracious thing that never seems to get enough. “You better not burn my steak,” Bristol pants in between kisses. I angle my head to send my tongue deeper into her mouth, holding her still, teasing her until she’s straining up, open and begging when I pull back. “Grip.” My name is a whimpering complaint. She cups my neck and tugs my head back down. “Oh, no.” I resist, laugh, and turn to the grill. “You were so concerned about me burning these steaks, Ms. Medium Rare.” “I am.” She slides her arms around me from behind and I feel a sweet sting, her teeth gently biting my shoulder through my T-shirt. I love it when she bites me, but I’m not giving her that satisfaction yet. “But that doesn’t mean you get to stop kissing me. You have to multitask.” One slim hand slides over my abs and past my belt to cup me through my jeans. Damn. Not sure how long I can keep up this charade that I don’t want to screw her into the wall on the roof where anyone with half a telescope could see. “Wow,” I say, keeping my tone unaffected, though she’s gotta feel me getting longer and harder in her hand. “Somebody’s horny as hell.” She makes a sound that’s half outraged laughter, half indignant grunt before stepping around to stand in front of me by the grill. “I will not be slut-shamed by my own boyfriend.” Amusement lights her eyes, turning them to quicksilver. “Shamed?” I put down the grilling fork I’m using for the steaks and reach for her again. “No shame in being horny for me, baby. I wanna give you a gold star.” Her eyes slide down to the erection poking her in the stomach. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Should we name it?” “Guys who have to name their dicks probably aren’t using ’em right.” “So I ask again . . . should we name it?” I cock a brow and press our hips together. “Are you implying that I don’t know how to use mine? Because that’s not the impression I got this morning when you came so hard you were singing like a bird.” She tilts her head, her eyes wide and considering. “Did you say like a bird?” A small smile plays around her lips. “What made you say that?” “I don’t know.” I give a careless shrug. “Why?” “It’s silly,” she says, rolling her eyes in self-derision. “I was thinking today when I laughed it sounded like . . .” Bristol blushes about once every Halley’s Comet, so the color washing across her cheeks makes me wonder. “What?” I probe. “Your laugh sounded like what?” “Like a happy bird,” she mumbles, peering up at me like I’m going to laugh in her face. Which I do. “Stop laughing at me.” She narrows her eyes in mock warning. “Right.” I dip my head to catch her eyes and tease her. “Because when you tell me you laugh like a happy bird I’m just supposed let you get away with that.” “I’m not telling you things anymore.” She narrows her eyes and folds her arms over her chest. “Yeah, right. I’m your best friend.” I pull her back into me. “You’ll tell me everything like you always do.” “You are, you know.” Her voice softens. “My best friend, I mean.” When she looks at me like this, her eyes stripped of every defense, no guard in sight, completely honest and open and vulnerable, I feel slightly invincible. It’s a trick of the heart, I know, but I can’t help but think that as long as she looks at me like this, there isn’t anything I couldn’t survive, that our love is the stuff of legends, rolled in Teflon, disaster-proof. I’m as fanciful as Bristol, my laughing bird. “You’re mine, too,” I echo her sentiment. “My best friend.” “I won’t tell Rhyson,” she promises with a grin. “I’m pretty sure he spits the same line to Kai.” I keep a straight face. “We have to say that shit to get laid.” “I hate you.” “Orrrrrrrrr do you love me and want to blow me after dinner?” I shrug and lift my hands, my palms up. “Just saying. Listen to your heart, Bristol. Listen to your heart.” “I’m listening to my belly right now, smartass, and it’s growling. Feed me.” “Like my mama used to say, ain’t no freeloaders in this house. What’ll you give me for feeding you?” “Um . . .” “I do have a suggestion, if you’re searching.” “Let me guess—you have a ‘Will fuck for food’ sign up here somewhere?” “I used bubble letters.” I laugh and give her ass a light smack. “You can barter that booty.” It’s so damn easy with Bristol—our banter, the chemistry, the perfect rhythm of our conversation. It was one of the first things I noticed when we met all those years ago. We didn’t read each other’s minds or finish each other’s sentences. It wasn’t cosmic, but it was a connection that seized me by the brain and grabbed me by the balls. She was as smart as she was sexy, as curious as she was forthcoming. There were years in between when we made things complicated, when things were strained, but now with our hearts settled on each other for good, it’s simple. This. Her. Us. STILL AD ONE FEET.jpg

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FLOW, the FREE prequel, MUST BE READ before GRIP!
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About Kennedy:

Kennedy Ryan is a Southern girl gone Southern California. A Top 100 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy writes romance about remarkable women who find a way to thrive even in tough times, the love they find, and the men who cherish them. She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director of a foundation serving Georgia families living with Autism, Kennedy has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other outlets as a voice for families living with autism.

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~*~*~NEW RELEASE~*~*~ ALWAYS BY BETHANY-KRIS

ALWAYS, A Legacy Novel

by Bethany-Kris Cross + Catherine, #1 Publication Date: October 2, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary Romance, Coming of Age, Mafia

NOW AVAILABLE!

SYNOPSIS:

A Legacy Novel
A wild boy. A sly girl.
Cross Donati defines trouble. He does what he wants because he’s never known anything different. He’s unapologetic, and he owns it.
Catherine Marcello is every bit a good girl … on the outside. Her entire world is a legacy, and she lives it. She’s curious, and she’s exploring it.
She chases bad things. He never learned to be good.
They’re late nights, stolen cars, first times, fist fights, leather jackets, beaches, bloody smiles, and life. They’re vicious and precious, dangerous and harmless, innocence and sin. They are love.
Love is killing for someone. Love is living for someone.
Sometimes, you can’t keep saving your heart when it means sacrificing it, too. Sometimes, you have to learn to save yourself. Sometimes, love has to fall, crash, and burn.
This is what love is like when you’re a principe and principessa della mafia. This is what love is like when you’re Cross Donati and Catherine Marcello.
***
Always is a Legacy Novel, and while it is standalone, it can also act as a prequel for Revere. Each Legacy Novel stands alone from any other book, series, or collection.
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EXCERPT

ALWAYS, A Legacy Novel (Cross + Catherine, #1) by Bethany-Kris

Catherine giggled. Her amusement faded fast. Like the second Hugh grabbed her arm in a tight grip, and stopped her from walking further.
“Last name?” he asked again.
She tugged her arm to free it from his grasp, but he didn’t let go. She looked down at his hand pointedly. “That’s a no.”
“Shit, what’s your problem? I’m just asking who the hell—”
“Let me go,” Catherine said.
She was polite.
It was the only warning he was going to get.
“Tell me your name, then.”
“This isn’t a tit for tat,” Catherine replied. “I said no, and that means—”
Catherine didn’t even see the fist coming before it smashed into Hugh’s face. Hugh let go of Catherine’s arm with a holler, and she almost tripped over her gladiator-style sandals in an effort to jump back.
“Means fucking no,” the guy Catherine had been admiring earlier said, as he stood over a now bleeding Hugh. “Coach said to move your ass, so move, Hugh. Stop bothering girls—didn’t you get enough of that shit last year?”
“Donati!” someone yelled from the field.
“Jesus Christ, Cross,” Liliana muttered.
“Prick!”
That was all Hugh got out before he kicked out a leg and dropped Cross to the ground. In full football gear, but for the helmets, the two boys started laying into one another. Each fist smacking into a body or gear made Catherine cringe. She was pretty sure someone was bleeding, too, in between cursing and name calling. The players and coaches on the field started heading their way fast.
“Okay, time to go,” Liliana said, making sure to tug Catherine along.
She kept up with her cousin easily enough.
First day, and already starting fights.
Yeah, she really missed her old school.
“Donati did you a favor there,” Liliana said as they came closer to the school.
“Who?” Catherine asked, peering back over her shoulder.
“Donati. Cross Donati.”
That surname seemed familiar to Catherine, but she couldn’t quite pull out why.
“Hugh is a creep,” Liliana said, oblivious to Catherine’s confusion. “He doesn’t understand the word no, and if you ask the right girls, they’ll all tell you not to leave a drink unattended when he’s around. Seriously, Cross did you a favor.”
She couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder.
Catherine found a pair of dark eyes looking in her direction before they locked onto hers.
Cross.
Cross Donati.
His fist crashed down into Hugh’s bloody face one more time before the coach reached the fighting boys, and pulled them apart. He was still staring after Catherine, though.
Cross smiled at her, then, showing off white teeth stained red by his bloody mouth. He didn’t seem a bit bothered by it, really. She smiled back.
Catherine thought, years from then, when people asked …
She would say that was when she fell in love with Cross.
Black hair.
Dark eyes.
Bruised knuckles.
Bloody mouth.
All the while, he smiled at her.
And she smiled back.
That was when she fell in love with Cross Donati.
Even if she hadn’t known it then.

ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.
To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD

ENTER THE GIVEAWAY

~*~*~COVER REVEAL~*~*~ A LITTLE TOO LATE BY STACI HART

A Little Too Late, an all-new romantic standalone from Staci Hart is coming October 24th!

ALTL-wrap

A Little Too Late by Staci Hart

Publishing Date: October 24th, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Designer: QuirkyBird Designs

I wasn't supposed to fall in love with the nanny.
When my wife left, she took the illusion of happiness with her, and I've been caught in a free fall ever since. For nine long months, I've been fighting to figure out how to be a single dad, how to be alone.
For nine long months, I've been failing.
When Hannah walked through the door, I took my first breath since I'd found myself on my own. She slipped into our lives effortlessly, showing me what I've been missing all these years. Because Hannah made me smile when I thought I'd packed the notion of happiness away with my wedding album.
She was only supposed to be the nanny, but she's so much more.
The day my wife left should have been the worst day of my life, but it wasn't. It was when Hannah walked away, taking my heart with her.

Preorder Today!

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2iZfozn
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About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

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