Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Cover Reveal: Devils & Rye by Alta Hensley




Title: Devils & Rye
Series: Top Shelf #4
Author: Alta Hensley
Genre: Dark Romance Standalone
Cover Design: Jay Aheer
Release Date: March 27, 2018



Blurb


Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

It had been years since I had seen her.
Years since I last saw those eyes with pure, raw innocence.
So much time had passed since I lusted after what I knew I should resist.

But she was so right.
And I was so wrong.

To claim her as mine was breaking the rules. Boundaries should not be broken. But temptation weakens my resolve.
With the pull of my dark desires…
I know that I can’t hide from my sinful thoughts—and actions—forever.

*Devils & Rye is a dark billionaire romance. If you don’t like a splash of shock, a dash of taboo, and a heavy dose of sex, then don’t take a sip of this TOP SHELF cocktail.







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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






Author Bio

Alta Hensley is a USA TODAY bestselling author of hot, dark and dirty romance. She is also an Amazon Top 100 bestselling author. Being a multi-published author in the romance genre, Alta is known for her dark, gritty alpha heroes, sometimes sweet love stories, hot eroticism, and engaging tales of the constant struggle between dominance and submission.



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Cover Reveal: The Elder by Celia Aaron




Title: The Elder
Author: Celia Aaron
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover Design: Perfect Pear
Photo: Wander Aguiar
Model: Forest
Release Date: February 6, 2018



Blurb

A shocking murder.

A suspicious son.

A dedicated detective.

In Azalea, Mississippi, the only thing hotter than the summer days are the men of the King family. When the patriarch Randall King is found dead, Detective Arabella Matthews will race the clock to stop the killer from striking again. Benton, the eldest of the King siblings, has to decide if he wants to cooperate with the feisty detective or conduct his own investigation. The more he finds out about his father—and the closer he gets to Arabella—the more he wants to keep her safe. But the killer has different plans . . .






Author Bio

Celia Aaron is a recovering attorney who loves romance and erotic fiction. Dark to light, angsty to funny, real to fantasy—if it’s hot and strikes her fancy, she writes it. Thanks for reading.


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Release Boost: Unwanted by Leigh Lennon




Title: Unwanted
Author: Leigh Lennon
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 26, 2018



Blurb

Emma

A baby is all I've ever wanted.
After almost dying on the operating table,
I despise everything about motherhood,
especially the little girl I brought into this world.
It makes me sound awful; hell; I am awful.
How can I make myself fall in love with a baby
I feel no attachment to?

Tyler

I don’t recognize my wife anymore.
When I thought I might lose Emma during our baby’s delivery;
she survived only to reject the baby I love so much.
When I hold this baby, I fully understand unconditional love.
How do I make the woman I love want this little girl I would move heaven and earth for.






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Excerpt

Emma:

I open the door to the guest quarters where we are staying this weekend, and I don’t see him, but his luggage is in the middle of the little apartment. I hear the faucet in the bathroom turn on, then off. The door opens, and out walks my Tyler. He seems to have gained a touch of weight, but it looks good on him, and his hair is very short. His eyes meet mine, and he stops in front of his luggage. He comes to me, but it only takes me a second until I kick the door shut and take off my shirt and he has my bra unlatched.

I don’t say a word to him, and only crash my mouth to his, while I unbuckle the belt on his jeans. Within record time, his pants are off, and his large hands are around me, cupping my ass. He has always been an ass man, but when he trails his fingertips down my back, massaging my butt slow and deep, my core is instantly wet. I need to feel him inside me, and we still have not talked. I pull back and say, “Hi, you.” With a big smile, I move his one hand to the front of me, giving him access to my pussy. As much as he loves my ass, he loves my pussy too. He falls to his knees, looking up at me.

“Hi, to you too,” he says as his mouth finds its way to my core. I’m so wet that all he has to do is touch my inner folds with his tongue and I could cream on him. My hands find their way to his dark hair, and I’m rubbing his head, moaning. “Fuck, Ems. You are so wet.”

“What can I say, I fucking missed you. I won’t last long, Ty. Make me come and do it now.” He always loved my bossiness, and it doesn’t seem to have changed. His tongue works its way, circling my clit, and I’m glad he has not forgotten what makes me hot and bothered. It takes less than thirty seconds, and I hold onto him for dear life as my entire body spasms. “Fuck, Ty. I missed your tongue.”

Standing up, he crashes his lips to mine, and when his tongue collides with me, I can taste myself on him. “I fucking taste great,” I say.

“Yes, you do.” He agrees with me, taking my hand as we find our way to the bedroom. Pulling the blankets back, he places me on the bed, sliding in next to me. “As much as I need to be in you, Ems, I need to take you in.” Settling under the blankets, he pulls them back again as he searches my body up and down. “I want to sit here, holding you for now.”

“Okay, I can agree with that.” With a mischievous look on my face, I continue, “Your dick had better be inside me in the next ten minutes.”

He wears a cheesy smile while I ask, “What?”

“I missed your bossy little mouth more than I can tell you.” He’s pulling my hair back, looking at me intently as if his gaze would burn a hole in my soul. “Shit, Ems, I knew I missed you, but it all hit me right now how incomplete my life is without you.” Placing his hand on my cheek, he strokes my face gently. “Babe, you look good. I mean, I see a little of my old Ems in you right now, and it gives me hope.”

Rising on my elbow and placing my hand on his chest, I feel a tear run down my cheek. “Fuck, Ty, I’m so sorry. I mean, why are you still with me after all the shit I pulled? I put you through so much and here you are.”

“Ems, I would walk over broken glass for you. Don’t you know that by now?” he asks, kissing my forehead. Tyler pulls me close. “Ems, our problems will still find us tomorrow, but for now, all I want is to make love to my wife.” He is right, and for that very reason, we fall onto the bed, in a tangled heap, as he ravages my entire body.


Tyler:

Emma’s hand finds mine, leading me to our bedroom. She hasn’t initiated any affection toward me in a long time. More so, her touch stops me. It is the gentle Emma touch I fell in love with years ago. Turning to her as we enter our room, I see something in her eyes that I haven’t seen in ages. “Ems?” I ask as I desperately want to touch her too. Fuck, do I want to touch her.

“Ty,” is all she says to give me the permission I need; by the way her eyes water and her mouth shows just a hint of a smile, one that has been missing from my wife’s face forever, and I melt. It is less than a second, if that, before I crash my mouth to hers. Her hand instantly finds my hardness, and without thinking, I grab her as she wraps her legs around my waist. “Ty, I need you.”

She takes the words out of my mouth because at this very moment, I have not needed anything as much as I do her now. Once we are wrapped in each other’s arms, the postpartum, the guilt she feels with Aspen, the attempted suicide, the fact she’s leaving for LA soon—it all fades away.

I place her gently on her back. Crawling onto the bed, I straddle her, taking in the sight of my wife. Over the years, her almost raven-colored hair has become a touch lighter, her deep jet black eyes still captivate me, but it is her smile, the way she tweaks her mouth just enough to look both fucking sexy and innocent all at the same time. In her smile, I can forget everything that is against us. Right now, all the shit we have in our past and ahead of us fades, and I’m left with only my wife.

“Ems, I have fucking missed you so much! You are my world.”

“Ty, I’m so sorry.” Hell, now she’s crying. I can’t have that ruining this moment, when the same Emma I fell in love with years ago is back with me.

“Shh, babe, I’m here. I’m yours. I’m going nowhere. See, as much as you have tried to push me away, I’m here.”

Again, she smiles, and this time, when it reaches her eyes, I’m a goner. The things she can do to my heart and, well, other parts of my body leave me speechless. I push her hair out of her eyes and kiss every part of her face, wiping away the tears. After that, I need to be inside of her and have the urge to take Emma roughly. And though I know she loves it when I ravage her, taking her deep and hard, she needs soft and sweet right now.

Standing up briefly, I yank her yoga pants off her while she tries to take care of her shirt and bra. Stopping her, I simply say, “I want to soak in every moment, Ems. Let me do that.” Again, she smiles at me, and my heart is truly hers again. Not that I ever wanted to admit defeat with us, but she’s giving me a glimmer of hope, one I haven’t had since Aspen was born.

I bring Emma up to me and pull her simple black top over her head and reach behind her to unclasp her bra in one fluid motion, something I have been known for. She laughs. “You haven’t lost your move, there, buddy,” she says with a bit of a flirt in her voice. The rasp in her tone is exactly how I remember her when she’s turned on. Oh, how I have missed that rasp.

“Never, babe,” I say as I urgently undress. But she stands, taking control. She slowly unbuckles my belt. Taking it from the loops very slowly, she draws out the need and the desire I have to plunge into my wife right now. But I give her this control. She needs something that is hers. As she reveals my skin millimeter by millimeter, her smile grows.

“Fuck, Ty, your body is like that of an Olympic god.” She has used this little tagline for as long as I can remember. The rasp of her voice causes my dick to stir. It has a mind of its own, and like me, Emma owns it.

I push her back gently and crawl on top of her now that both of us are naked.

Taking her large D cup boobs in my mouth, I massage the nipple with my tongue as a slight moan escapes from her. Wow, I’m turned on when I massage the other nipple with my hand, squeezing the tit with my fingers. Her hand moves to my erection, pumping it the way I like.

Before she can demand entrance, I drop my head between her legs and open those sweet lips. My head finds its way to her wet pussy, and my tongue finds that sweet spot only I know when it comes to my Emma. She starts to writhe, but the second my free hand touches her stomach, she calms at my touch, allowing her the ability to enjoy the upcoming orgasm. The more I work her clit with my tongue, the more I can feel her release building. In a matter of seconds, she’s pushed over the edge and comes all over my face. I can’t help but lap up every drop of her.

I don’t give her any time to think, though, as now I’m in front of her face. Her greedy little pussy is waiting for my entrance, and I don’t disappoint. I ram into her hard, and she smiles that sexy fucking smile again, but then I slow. I want to relish every little movement I make inside her.

Looking deep into the black irises of hers, I realize I love her more, more than I care to admit and more than I ever thought possible. This time, Emma has given me hope.

Now that we are finally together after our time apart, we move in motion as if we were never apart. I grab her face, moving slowly and methodically, relishing every second I’m with my wife. I make her look in my eyes, and I continue to soak her in and burn this to memory.




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Author Bio

Leigh Lennon is mother, veteran and a wife of a cancer survivo

Cover Reveal: Chased by Clarissa Wild




Title: Chased
Author: Clarissa Wild
Genre: Dark Romance
Cover Design: Booming Covers
Release Date: February 12, 2018



Blurb

I’m filthy rich … and ruthless.
I live for the hunt. The chase.
My desires aren’t exactly normal.

But neither is she … The girl I bought.
She’s innocent and blind.
Perfect for all my wicked needs.
Perfect to prove just how far I’m willing to go.
But there’s just one problem …
I’m falling for her. Deep. Hard. Fast.
Even though I’m the bad guy. The man who keeps her locked away.
I’ll do anything to make her stay.
One thing’s for sure … She will be mine.


WARNING: This book contains very disturbing content that may be offensive to readers.






Excerpt

Her whispers are like a drug to me.
I can’t stop listening, can’t stop fucking zoning out completely as she grabs my leg with those sweet little hands.
Her lips are so close to mine I can almost taste them.
And I want to.
So fucking bad …
I’m consumed with the thought of taking her, and for a second I’m almost tempted to do just that.
Grab her by her waist, tear off her clothes, rip down my zipper, and ram my cock into her dripping wet pussy.
But I know it’s all lies.
All lies my mind spins to make me feel wanted.
To make me feel good.
Because I’m not.
I’m far from it, and she knows it.
When her fingers graze my dick, I grasp her wrist and stop her.
She’s not doing this because she wants me just as much.
She’s doing this because she wants out.
I’m being used. And I don’t like being used.
“Don’t,” I hiss, pushing her away.
She cocks her head and her tongue dips out again to lip those sweet little lips that I just want to conquer. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
I narrow my eyes, unable to pull away even though I should.
Fuck.
It’s so goddamn wrong.
She’s my prisoner. I shouldn’t want her, and yet I do, and now she knows.
When I bought her, I never thought I’d succumb to my desires so easily.
Maybe she’s found my weak spot.
Or maybe I’m really looking for salvation … and she’s the only one who can give it to me.
No. I can’t allow it.
“No,” I reply, lying through my teeth.
But I have to make a stand.
Have to stop this from happening before it’s too late.
“I don’t believe you,” she says, inching closer again.
I immediately get off the couch, not giving a shit that my dick is rock hard because of her.
I won’t let her find out.






Author Bio


Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, the Stalker Duology, Twenty-One (21), Ultimate Sin, Viktor, Unprofessional Bad Boys Series, RUIN, Indecent Games Series, Father, and Caged. She is also a writer of various erotic romances. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.

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Blog Tour: The Rebound by Winter Renshaw
































































The last time I saw Nevada Kane, I was seventeen and he was loading his things into the back of his truck, about to embark on a fourteen-hour drive to the only college that offered him a full ride to play basketball.

I told him I’d wait for him. He promised to do the same.

But life happened. I broke my promise long before he ever broke his. And not because I wanted to.

We never saw each other again …


Until ten years later when Nevada unexpectedly returned to our hometown after an abrupt retirement from his professional basketball career.

Suddenly he was everywhere, always staring through me with that brooding gaze, never returning my smiles or “hellos.”

Over the years, I’d heard that he’d changed. And that despite his multi-million dollar contracts and rampant success, life hadn’t been so kind to him.

He was a widower.

And a single father.

And rumor had it, he’d spent his last ten years trying to forget me, refusing to so much as breathe my name … hating me.

But just like a rebound, he’s back.

And I have to believe everything happens for a reason.






























Chapter One
Yardley Devereaux, age 16



I don't belong here.
I realize being the new kid makes people give you a second look, but I don't think it should give them permission to stare at you like you have a second head growing out of your nose. Or a monstrous zit on your chin. Or a period stain on your pants.
At this point it’s all the same.
Not to mention, I don't think anyone can prepare you for what it feels like to eat lunch alone, like some social reject.
The smell of burnt tater tots makes my stomach churn, and the milk on my tray expires today. I'm pretty sure the “chicken patty on a bun” they gave me is nothing more than pink slime baked to a rock-hard consistency. I’m unwilling to risk chipping a tooth, so I refuse to try it.
Checking my watch for the millionth time, I calculate approximately 3 1/2 hours left until I can go home and tell my parents what an amazing first day I had. That’s what they want to hear anyway. Dad moved us here from California with the promise that we were going to be richer than sin, whatever that means. But if Missouri is such a gold mine then why doesn't the rest of the world move here? So far, Lambs Grove looks like the kind of place you'd see in some independent film about a mother trying to solve her son's murder with the help of a crooked police department, starring Jake Gyllenhaal, JK Simmons, and Frances McDormand.
Okay, I'm probably being dramatic.
But this place is pretty lame. I miss the ocean. I miss the constant sunshine and the steady stream of seventy-five degree days. I miss the swaying palm trees.
I miss my friends.
Forcing your kid to move away from the town they’ve grown up in their entire life—in the middle of their sophomore—year is cruel. I don't care how rich dad says we’re going to get, I'd have rather stayed in Del Mar, driven a rusting Honda, and paid my own way through a technical college if it had meant we didn't have to move.
And can we talk about my name for a second? Yardley. Everyone here has normal names. Alyssa. Monica. Taylor. Heather. Courtney. If I have to spell my name for someone one more time I’m going to scream. My mom wanted my name to be special and different because apparently she thinks I'm special and different, but naming your daughter Yardley doesn’t make her special. It just makes it so she’ll never find her name on a souvenir license plate.
I’d go by my middle name if it weren’t equally as bad, but choosing between Yardley and Dove is akin to picking your own poison.
Yardley Dove Devereaux.
My parents are cruel.
I rest my case.
I pop a cold tater tot into my mouth and force myself to chew. I'll be damned if I'm that girl sitting in third block with a stomach growling so loud it drowns out the teacher. I don't need more people staring.
Pulling my notebook from my messenger bag, I pretend to focus on homework despite the fact that it's the first day of spring semester and none of my teachers have assigned anything yet, but it’s better than sitting here staring at the block walls of the cafeteria like some loser.
Pressing my pen into the paper, I begin to write:
Monday, January 7, 2008
This day sucks.
The school sucks.
This town sucks.
These people suck.
After a minute, I toss my pen aside and exhale.
“What about me? Do I suck?” A pastel peach lunch tray plops down beside me followed by a raven-haired boy with eyes like honey and a heartbreaker’s smile. My heart flutters in my chest. He's gorgeous. And I have no idea why he's sitting next to me. “Nevada.”
“No. California. I’m from Del Mar,” I say, clearing my throat and sitting up straight.
The boy laughs through his perfectly straight nose.
I can't take my eyes off his dimpled smirk. He can’t take his eyes off me.
“My name,” he says. “It's Nevada. Like the state. And you are?”
“New,” I say.
He laughs at me again, eyes rolling. “Obviously. What’s your name?”
My cheeks warm. Apparently, I can’t human today. “Yardley.”
“Yardley from California.” He says my name like he’s trying to memorize it as he studies me. I squirm, wanting to know what he’s thinking and why he’s gazing at me like I’m some kind of magnificent creature and not some circus sideshow new girl freak. “What brings you here?”
He pops one of my tator tots between his full lips, grinning while he chews.
Nevada doesn't look like the boys where I’m from. He doesn't sound like them either. He isn't sun kissed with windswept surfer hair. His features are darker, more mysterious. One look at this tall drink of water and I know he’s wise beyond his years. Mischievous and charismatic but also personable.
He’s … everything.
And he’s everything I never expected to come across in a town like this.
A group of girls at the table behind us gape and gawk, whispering and nudging each other. It occurs to me then that this might be a set-up, that this beautiful boy might be talking to this awkward new girl as a dare.
“Ignore them,” he says when he follows my gaze toward the plastic cheerleader squad sitting a few feet away. “They’re just jealous.”
I lift a brow. “Of what?”
He smirks, laughing at me like I’m supposed to ‘get it.’
“What?” I ask. If this is a joke, I want to be in on it. I refuse to add butt-of-the-joke to the list of reasons why this day can go to hell.
“They’re jealous because they think I’m about to ask you out,” he says, licking his lips. Nevada hasn’t taken his eyes off me since the moment he sat down.
“Should I go inform them that they have absolutely no reason to shoot daggers our way?”
His expression fades. “Why would you say that?”
“Because …” I laugh. “You’re not about to ask me out.”
“I’m not?”
I peel my gaze off of him and glance down at my untouched lunch. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why am I doing what? Talking to you? Trying to get the courage to ask you on a date?”
I glance up, studying his golden gaze and trying to determine if he’s being completely serious right now.
“You’ve never seen me before in your life and then you just … plop down next to me and ask me on a date?” I shake my head before rising. If I have to dump my tray and hide in the bathroom until the bell rings, then so be it.
“Where are you going?”
My lips part. “I … I don’t know. I …”
Nevada reaches for me, wrapping his hand around my wrist in a silent plea for me to stay. “Do you have a boyfriend back in California? Is that what this is about?”
“What? No.” This guy is relentless.
“Then go on a date with me,” he says, rising. “Friday.”
“Why?”
His expression fades. “Why?”
The bell rings. Thank God.
“I was new once. So I get it,” he says, fighting another dimpled smirk. God, I could never get tired of looking at a face like his. “And, uh … I think you’re, like, really fucking hot.”
Biting my lower lip and trying my damnedest to keep a straight face, I decide I won’t be won over that easily. It takes a lot more than a sexy smile, some kind words, and a curious glint in his sunset eyes. If he truly wants me … if this isn’t a joke and he honestly thinks I’m “really fucking hot,” he’s going to have to prove it.
“Bye, Nevada,” I say, gathering my things and disappearing into a crowd of students veering toward two giant trash cans.
I don’t wait for him to respond and I don’t turn around, but I feel him watching me—if that’s even possible. There’s this electric energy pulsing through me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I’m not sure if it’s excitement or anticipation or the promise of hope … but I can’t deny that it’s real and it’s there.
Making my way to the second floor of Lambs Grove High, I find my English Lit classroom and settle into a seat in the back.
For the tiniest sliver of a second, I imagine the two of us together. We’re laughing and happy and so in love that it physically hurts—the kind of thing I’ve never had with anyone else.
The tardy bell rings and a few more students shuffle in. My teacher takes roll call before beginning his lecture, but I don’t hear any of it.
I can’t stop thinking about that beautiful boy.






















































Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.




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