Title: The Color of Us
Series: College Bound #2
Authors: Laura Ward & Christine Manzari
Release Date: June 20, 2016
Eighteen year old Alexis Sinclair is lost in the darkness of grief. Since the death of her sister in a car accident, she can’t find the will to get out and enjoy life again. When she’s forced to face her biggest fear and take a summer Driver’s Ed course, she’s surprised to find hope in the most unlikely person.
Liam O’Connell is trouble. He isn’t proud of his dark past, and he knows Alexis is the one girl he has no business pursuing. Doing the right thing has never been easy for him, but this time, it just might be impossible.
The perfect girl and troubled boy are all wrong for each other, but as Liam helps Alexis cope with her grief, they realize nothing has ever felt more right.
That is, until Alexis uncovers a secret about Liam that breaks her heart.
Liam knows he can’t allow the one good thing in his life to walk away without a fight, and he’s determined to convince Alexis they can find their way out of the darkness together.
Can he prove he’s worthy of her, or is some love too tainted to be saved.
Over The Rainbow by Chase Holfelder
Beam Me Up by P!nk
I Will Wait by Mumford & Sons
I’m Yours by Jason Mraz
Nothing Without Love by Nate Reuess
Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith
Kiss The Girl from Little Mermaid by Chase Holfelder
True Colors (cover) by Anna Winblad
Out of the Woods by Taylor Swift
Start Again by Conrad Sewell
Angel by Massive Attack
The Pledge (College Bound #1) – Released July 27, 2015
Taren needs a do-over. She’s decided the best way to put the high school bullies behind her is to pledge a Taylor-Swift-lip-syncing, beer-guzzling, sorority. Sisterhood helps Taren find the acceptance she’s always craved, but not the love she needs.
Alec wants freedom. To escape his father’s iron fist and unrealistic expectations, he pledges a campus acrobatics club where he finds that drugs and alcohol aren't the only ways to get high. His addiction to danger helps him gain his independence, but it comes at a heavy price.
When the two cross paths, Alec fears his undeniable attraction to the party girl just might threaten everything he's worked so hard to earn. Taren hasn’t forgotten that Alec humiliated her back in high school, but she also can't deny the chemistry they share.
Alec and Taren have nothing in common, but fate is bound and determined to bring them together. They know falling in love is a risk, and yet it’s too hard to ignore. When their worlds clash and they both end up suffering, will they fight to stay together? Or are some pledges too hard to keep?
Laura Ward lives in Maryland with her loud and very loving three children and husband. She married her college sweetheart and is endlessly grateful for the support he has given her through all their years together, and especially toward her goal of writing books. When not picking up toy trucks, driving to lacrosse practice, or checking spelling homework, Laura is writing or reading romance novels. Her debut novel, NOT YET, is a Top 100 Amazon Bestseller.
The first thing Christine does when she’s getting ready to read a book is to crack the spine in at least five places. She wholeheartedly believes there is no place as comfy as the pages of a well-worn book. She’s addicted to buying books, reading books, and writing books. Books, books, books. She also has a weakness for adventure, inappropriate humor, and coke (the caffeinated, bubbly kind). Christine is from Forest Hill, Maryland where she lives with her husband, three kids, and her library of ugly spine books.
Series: A Vigilantes Novel
Author: Keri Lake
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance - Standalone
Published: June 9, 2016 Cover Design: Hang Le Image Credit: Eric Battershell Photography Cover Model: Johnny Kane
No matter how unbreakable he may seem, every man has a weakness.
A year ago, my home became a bloodstained crime scene. That night marked the beginning of my hell—the same night I was tortured by my enemies and tossed into an underground prison to die.
They failed. I survived.
Now that I’m free, only one motive burns in my soul: revenge.
Lucky for me, they think Jase Hawkins is dead. Maybe I am. I’ve got nothing but a cold, merciless rage, and Black Betty, the sharp steel blade that never leaves my side.
Then she drifts into my life.
Lucia wants answers—so much so, she’s willing to fall into the darkness where my enemies lie in wait, to kill her for what she knows.
Or to take her for the depraved fantasies her body alone can rouse in a man’s mind.
Me? I want her for the fire in her touch that feeds my addiction, forces me to feel what has become numb, but my appetite for bloodshed runs deeper than flesh.
For my own sanity, I’ve vowed to stay away from her. Because she’s my only weakness, an obsession that leaves me craving more—one that could make even the most steadfast plan backfire.
"Backfire is dark, gritty, and unapologetic. You'll be reading it with your heart in your throat and your stomach twisted up in knots. It's violent, a touch depraved, darkly erotic, action packed and absolutely, positively unputdownable." -Dirty Girl Romance Blog
"It's brilliant. It's rewarding and it is a mind screw done perfectly. You will hear your heart break for what Jase and Lucy go through. You will love, hate and shatter." -Kathy Coopmans, USA Today Bestselling Author
"So dark and disturbing you read with one eye open, unable to look away -riveted by what's playing out before your very eyes as Keri Lake takes you on a twisted rollercoaster flying in different directions at great speed." -Totally Booked Blog
"Once again Keri Lake has given us a wonderfully engaging story which sucks you into a whole other world, making you feel everything and revel in the brutal underworld that she has created. It's a book you experience,not just read, and if you're in the mood for this sort of story, it's going to blow you away with its dark intensity." -Escapist Book Blog
Keri Lake is a married mother of two living in Michigan. By day, she tries to make use of the degrees she’s earned in science. By night, she writes dark contemporary and paranormal romance. Though novels tend to be her focus, she also writes short stories and flash fiction on the many occasions when distraction sucks her in to the Land of Shiny Things.
She loves hearing from readers …
Title: The Way With You
Series: The Way #2
Author: Anne Mercier
Genre: Coming of Age/New Adult Romance
Release Date: May 23, 2016
Finding a "happily ever after" was hard enough.
Keeping it is even harder.
Olivia Brennan and Cameron Stone have both gone through Hell and back to finally find their way to each other. With obstacles set against them, the struggle to stay connected is harder than ever. Between their academic schedules, Olivia's newfound campus infamy, and a conniving ex stirring up trouble, Liv and Cam begin to struggle to keep what they've worked so hard for.
But when something unexpected fractures their trust, they must decide if they can repair what's left of their fragile love or will they discover that "happily ever after" is just for fairytales?
I'm walking back to the dorm after class when someone bumps into me—hard. I look over, biting back a curse, and when I see it's Alison, I wish I'd let it out.
"What's your problem?" I bark.
"You. You're my problem," she sneers.
I roll my eyes. "Why is that? Because you want to screw Cam but he's with me? Because Cam made me his girlfriend when all you were to him was a piece of ass? Both of you," I correct when I see Brittany standing beside her.
"You little bitch. I'm going to ruin you," Brittany shouts.
I'm so afraid right now. I know what Alison is capable of—but with Brittany by her side? I can't even imagine. I swallow that fear and pretend. I'm good at that—pretending I'm okay.
"Could you be any more dramatic?"
Alison steps closer. "Watch yourself, Muppet. You're overstepping."
"No. I'm not. I'm minding my own business, living my life, and you nut jobs start with your threatening and bullying. What are you—twelve?" I mock.
Alison's nostrils flare. It reminds me of a bull in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. You know the one? Where the steam comes out of the bull's nostrils because Bugs keeps taunting it? That's the one. I smirk at the thought and Alison's hand comes flying at my face before I can even think.
She slaps me and she slaps me hard—not just once, but twice. The burn, the sting of the slaps hurts like a mofo. I won't cry, but I can't stop the tears that fill my eyes. Damn it. I hate showing her any signs of weakness.
"Feel better now?" I ask, lifting my chin.
She hides the shock well, but I still get a glimpse. I am not the same girl I once was. I'm not sure who I am, exactly, but I'm no longer weak.
She cocks out a hip. "A little. But Muppet? There's a lot worse coming."
The Way Back to Me (The Way #1) – Released Feb 23, 2016
She was perky, fun, and full of life—everything I hated about girls and their bullshit exterior. People called her bubbly; I called her “fake-as-hell.”
The edgy, dark, lonely girl in front of me was not the Olivia Brennan I knew from high school—far from it, actually. I knew the story—the whole town knew the story, we witnessed it all. It happened in the blink of an eye and the girl we knew was gone.
But I refuse to watch it anymore—I can’t stand it. I’m going to fix it—fix her. It’s time I showed Olivia Brennan her way back…
Back to the girl she used to be.
I was born and raised in Wisconsin and still live here today with my two sons and puppy. (Though one day soon I hope to move to southern California!)
I’m an avid reader who gets inspired by reading the stories from my favorite authors as well as listening to various types of music. I am a huge fan of music, chocolate, fruit, desserts, autumn, M. Shadows, Avenged Sevenfold, and Milo Ventimiglia. Through my books, I am proudly creating new Avenged Sevenfold and Milo Ventimiglia fans one reader at a time.
“The best part of being an author, to me, is being able to take the reader to that one place they long to go when they need to escape reality. Knowing I can do that, for even one reader, makes what I do worthwhile.” ~ Anne Mercier
Hugs and love,
Title: Against the Wall
Series: Fuckboy Series #1
Author: Tracy Burke
Release Date: May 19, 2016
Wanted - Fuckboy. Full-time hours, daily pay, 60/40 cut, you keep all tips. Must be appealing to the eye, have a body to die for, and be open minded to new adventures. Call 555-FUCK to get started today!
Down on his luck and hard up for cash, Colton Pierce answers an ad for a job as a fuckboy.
What's a fuckboy you ask?
Colton's about to find out.
Warning: This book is EROTICA, with M/F/M, M/M and M/F relationships, and it's extremely hot!
Her eyes were glassed over and he could tell she was still tipsy from all the champagne they’d had. Colton didn’t care that they were both half drunk. He wanted to fuck her and if she wanted to fuck him, he would give her what she wanted. He had to please the customer, right?
He ran a hand up her thigh and back over her ass, ripping her panties off in one quick jerk. Her pussy was free for him to use and as she wiggled around he knew she wanted him just as badly. Jerking her forward, he slammed her onto his thick cock, driving it up inside of her until he was buried to the hilt.
“God damn.” Colton’s eyes rolled back as he relaxed against the seat, giving them both a moment to adjust.
But Addie didn’t want time to adjust to his size. She wanted to fuck him until she soaked his cock with her juices. She felt his hands grip her hips as she rocked on him. Her pussy pulsed, her need so overwhelming she wanted to explode instantly. She needed him. She needed him inside of her, pounding her pussy until everything else was a blur. She wanted to hear it, their bodies smacking against each other in a frenzied need for release.
Addie let go, riding him hard, pushing him into her as far as he could fit. She wanted it to hurt so good. She mixed the pleasure with the pain and let it carry her to the edge of her desires. When her pussy tightened around his cock she threw herself forward, crying out as she exploded all over him.
She had waited for this all night, knowing from the moment she met Colton that she wanted to ride his cock until he painted her insides with his come.
My name is Tracy Burke. I live in Canton, Ohio. Not because I want to. Just because life works out that way. I’m 38 years old but I feel like I’m 50. Don’t we all? I am a multi-genre author… you’ll see lots of different things from me. Besides writing, I also enjoy art and music. I love to read, play video games, and go for midnight dessert runs.
I have four kids. One boy (17) and three girls (16, 14, & 9). I’ve always wanted more children but to be honest, my youngest broke me. My mental status took a dive with her and it has never recovered. HAHA!
I’m an animal lover and I try to do what I can to support any animal cause that I come across. I have two cats (Rosey and KiKi), two dogs (Mocha Jean and Paisley Mae – the dumbest dog on the planet), a hamster named Squid (WTF!), and a revolving door of Betta and Goldfish.
Anyways, enough rambling from me. Check out my website for the longer version of this bio. Write me a fan mail or a hate hater mail, either way I’ll answer it when I have time. Check out my books, tell me what you think, and don’t forget to post a review.
I look forward to hearing from all of you!
All men suck! They lie, cheat, and break women's hearts. I'd all but given up on relationships when I met Ethan Harlow, a drop-dead gorgeous boxer at Kidd's Gym.
He was sexy, muscular, tattooed, and talented.
So, I decided to give boxing - and men - one last try.
My name is Jaz. I'm a boxer. This story is about my rise to fame, all the while doing the two things I enjoyed more than anything on earth.
Fucking and fighting.
Along the way, however, I found out everything there is to know about being loved.
And my life will never be the same.
Brawler is a STAND-ALONE, rags to riches romance. HEA, no cheating, no cliff hanger.
INCLUDED FREE after BRAWLER as an appreciation to my faithful readers is a copy of my #1 Amazon Best Selling Romantic Erotica F*ck Buddy. Thank you, and enjoy!!
I had decided I would tell Ethan what my concerns were, see what he thought, and make my decision on how to proceed with matters based on his responses. I didn’t expect him to commit to me, nor was a sure I wanted to commit to him, at least not yet.
As ridiculous as it sounded, I wanted confirmation that he intended to continue fucking me. I didn’t care what we chose to call our situation, I was concerned with more important things.
The most important thing.
“How long have we known each other?” I asked.
“A month. Give or take.”
“Things have changed between us here lately, and I want to discuss it.”
He looked worried. “Okay.”
“We’re fucking now.”
He returned an awkward stare. “Is that bad?”
“No,” I said. “It’s not bad, it’s just. I don’t want it to stop.”
Ethan wasn’t opposing me, but he sure wasn’t making me feel comfortable that he was vested in our conversation, either.
“I’ve got this fear that you’re going to walk away, and I’m going to be…”
It seemed strange telling him I was concerned that his big cock was going to ruin me from being able to be satisfied in the future. The longer I struggled with choosing the words to finish my sentence, the more ridiculous the entire conversation seemed.
I was mid-sentence into my explanation, and I wished I hadn’t even started our little cock talk.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I appreciated the reassurance, but I wasn’t convinced. “Give me a second. I wasn’t done with my thought, and I need to think of how to say it.”
My brain was mush. I’d never been one for beating around the bush, and there was no sense in starting now.
“You’ve got a really nice cock,” I said.
He seemed embarrassed, but eventually he smiled. “Thanks.”
“Really nice. And. Well. I was afraid that in a few weeks I’d be ruined, and then…you know…it’d be impossible to be satisfied in the future.”
There. I said it.
He stared back at me as if waiting for me to continue. I returned his stare, waiting for his response.
His brow wrinkled and his eyes narrowed. “I’m lost. You said a minute ago that you didn’t want to stop doing it. Then, you said if we continued, you’d be ruined. Did I hurt you or something?”
“Yeah.” He gestured toward my crotch. “Tear your junk up?”
“No.” I chuckled. “You didn’t tear me up.”
He looked confused. “So what are we talking about?”
“I said I wanted some commitment from you that you weren’t going to just…I don’t know…walk away. You know, that you weren’t planning on hittin’ it and quitin’ it. Not that that’s never happened, because it has. But if it happens with you, I’d rather it happen now than after a while. I just don’t want to be left, you know, struggling to have orgasms later in life because I’m all hung up on thick cocks and I can’t find one after you’re gone. I know there aren’t any assurances in a deal like this, but I was wanting…I was hoping that you’d tell me that you weren’t planning on…” I cleared my throat. “Are you going to fuck me again?”
His eyes went wide. “Wow.”
I scrunched my nose and glared. “What?”
“You are a girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“You fight like a man. You walk like a man. You talk like a man. Well, when you cuss, anyway. But that? Whatever that was? That was one hundred percent girl. It made no sense whatsoever.”
“All of it.”
I had explained everything. For as polite and as attentive as he was, he was a complete man.
Never paying attention to what a woman says.
Born in San Diego California, Scott now calls Wichita, Kansas home. Residing in Kansas with his wife, Jessica, and six children, he somehow finds twelve hours a day to work on his writing.
Addicted to riding his Harley-Davidson, tattoos, and drinking coffee, Scott can generally be found in a tattoo shop, on his Harley, or in a local coffee house when not writing.
Scott is a hybrid author who both self-publishes and conventionally publishes. Look for a three book (mafia erotic romance) series releasing in 2016 through Harlequin Romance.
Loyal to the fans, fan girls, and faithful followers who allowed him to make writing a full-time career, Scott communicates with his followers on Facebook almost daily. He encourages his readers to follow him on Facebook and Twitter.
Lost Kings MC Boxed Set, Includes Books 1-3, plus bonus material.
SLOW BURN (Lost Kings MC, Book #1)
Forced to represent an outlaw biker, a married attorney must come to terms with her feelings for her client while avoiding the danger he brings into her sedate life.
CORRUPTING CINDERELLA (Lost Kings MC, Book #2)
Love is the ultimate outlaw.
How do a lawyer and a badass biker with a heart of gold keep their love alive while their opposing worlds collide?
STRENGTH FROM LOYALTY (Lost Kings MC, Book #3)
As a dark cloud descends over Hope and Rock’s already precarious future, will a long-hidden secret push them both past the point of no return?
Bonus Scene #1
At the Range
Bonus Scene #2
PLUS, character interviews, and other exclusive-to-this-boxed-set material.
It wasn’t love at first sight when I met her. Lust? Definitely. I don’t think I believed in love at the time, but one look at her beautiful face, and all the bad stuff around me melted away. Not an easy feat for a guy in handcuffs.
Someone as innocent as her should never have gotten involved with a man like me. By innocent, I don't mean she was some breathy, eighteen-year-old virgin ingénue. No—when we met, she was a thirty-one-year-old married lady. When I use the word innocent, it is in terms of never having killed someone. Never seeing someone die in front of her. Never breaking the law.
True violence had never touched her life.
Violence and I had been close personal friends for a large part of my life. Along with crime. And death. I used violence as a tool to keep order in my often chaotic world, just as she used the law to keep things orderly in her black-and-white one.
She was a lawyer. I was a criminal. She was married to a decent, hard-working, honest guy. I fucked any willing girl who hung out in my club, and made my living in less than honest ways.
She was kind. I didn't know any nice women. Hadn’t known one since my mother died shortly after my eighth birthday. I don’t have many memories of her, but the ones I do have are warm and pleasant.
None of the tramps my father brought home after her death had an ounce of compassion for a motherless brat. The strippers that danced in my club seemed younger every day. A lot of them were bitchy drama queens, and the older I got, the less patience I had for emotional scenes. The girls who attended to the members of my motorcycle club were down to fuck, but not much else. That’s how I liked them.
We met in a courtroom. I sat in the area designated for prisoners. Shackles laced my hands and feet together. I shuffled into the room wearing a spiffy orange jumpsuit, the county correctional logo stenciled across my back in big white letters—just in case anyone thought I suffered from bad fashion sense.
She sat in the front row. I didn't hang my head when I entered. I stood proud and tall looking over the entire room. Some of my brothers stood along the back wall, waiting to see if I'd get bail.
I couldn’t find my attorney in the sea of people. His big, shiny, bald dome should have been easy to spot. My gaze wandered back to the girl in the front row. Long, straight, reddish-brown hair flowed down past her shoulders. Straight bangs across her forehead framed brilliant green eyes. Even from where I sat, I spotted freckles splattered across her nose. The deep green suit she wore emphasized the creaminess of her skin. The banister separating the criminals from the common folk blocked my view of anything below her shoulders, but that angelic face hooked me right away.
The sheriff leaned over and whispered to me, "Your attorney called to say he's running late." I nodded and mumbled a "thanks" without taking my eyes off the girl. Was her old man locked up? Was she a witness to a crime? Would my asshole lawyer get here so I could get free and talk to the girl?
"Any other message?" I asked Deputy Brown. He was a decent guy as far as pigs went. He'd treated me with respect, hadn't tried to bash my head into anything, and even brought me a donut before leading me upstairs to court. He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the bailiff made a big show of telling me to shut up. Arrogant prick wasn’t good enough to even be a cop, but he sure acted like one. I'd dealt with him before.
My eyes returned to the girl. She sat patient and attentive, waiting her turn. Once or twice, she looked at the clock. Only a slight twitch of her lips indicated her annoyance.
After what seemed like an eternity, the bailiff called the next case, and the girl stood up. She hauled a battered briefcase over her shoulder and stepped through the swinging gate up to the table across from where I sat.
If I'd been anywhere else in the world, I would have whistled long and low to express my appreciation for the soft curves of her body. The skirt she wore fell to her knees, but it clung to all the right spots and showcased a fantastic set of calves. Her modest heels clicked over the wooden floor, calling my attention to her slender ankles. I was so busy drooling over her I missed it when she stated her name.
The dickhead bailiff brought over a chair and actually smiled at her. She thanked him politely. The judge made some chit-chat with her, and she let out a girlish giggle. People seemed to know her. Like her.
"Yes, your honor." She stood up. Ah, she was a lawyer. That explained the chit-chat. She argued some civil matter I didn't understand or care about. I listened to her make her case, then watched her sit down. Her opponent didn’t have a lawyer. He bumbled around and generally made a fool of himself. She listened with a passive expression, then argued her position again. The judge ruled in her favor.
I wanted her. In more ways than one after her performance. The courtroom was almost empty. My guys still occupied the back row, but that was it. If my lawyer didn't show up soon, I'd be screwed.
I nudged Deputy Brown with my elbow. "Can she represent me?"
"I don't think she's a criminal attorney."
"Just for the arraignment. To get me out."
The deputy motioned to the bailiff to watch me and went to talk to the clerk. She nodded, and when the judge had a moment, she whispered in his ear.
Fuck. The girl was putting her stuff away and getting ready to leave. I really wanted her. I mean, I wanted to fuck her, of course. But I also wanted her to represent me. People seemed to like and respect her. I'd been in and out of the criminal justice system long enough to know getting out of trouble was sometimes less about what you knew and more about who you knew. If I'd gotten picked up in a different county, I could have used my connections to make this go away. Here, I was kind of stuck. I needed her.
"Attorney Kendall, could you stay and do an arraignment, please?" the judge asked off the record.
Her jaw dropped, and the color drained from her face. "Uh, I'm not a criminal attorney, your honor," she stammered.
"It's pretty simple. Mr. North's attorney got delayed. Don't make me appoint you," he teased.
"Well, um, just for the limited purpose of this arraignment?" she asked with a hopeful lilt to her voice.
The judge waved me over next to her. Her big eyes widened in shock as I lumbered over. I was mildly insulted. Had she really not noticed me the entire time I'd been sitting there?
"I can pay you," I whispered down to her.
She looked startled. "It's okay. What are we dealing with?" I liked the way she said "we."
She gave me a blank stare.
"Marijuana. Got caught with a couple blunts." Acting on a bad tip from one of the club’s many enemies, the cops had been hoping to pin a whole hell of a lot more on me. This was why, instead of ignoring the weed like most cops did these days, I was standing here in shackles and the orange jumpsuit.
"Oh geez." She rolled her eyes. At me or the charge, I wasn't sure.
"Do you have a record?"
"About a mile long."
That stopped her. She stared up at me, searching my face for the truth. Apparently deciding no one would joke about that, she nodded her head.
"Can you post bail? Do you work? Have a family?"
"Yes, yes, and yes."
She didn't ask what kind of work. Or what kind of family for that matter.
"Your honor, I've had a chance to confer with my client." "Very well. Let’s call it."
His clerk stood and read out, "The People of the State of New York versus Rochlan North." Look at that—the old gal even pronounced my first name right.
My girl looked up at me again. My manners were shit. I’d never bothered to introduce myself, I guess.
The judge slammed his gavel down. First time I’d heard him do it all morning. The sharp thwack broke the staring contest my pretty lawyer and I were engaged in. "Do you wish to hear the reading of the charges, counselor?"
She hesitated for a minute, and the judge covered the microphone with his hand. "Usually the attorney waives the reading, Miss Kendall."
"I know, your honor. Thank you. Yes, I'll waive the reading. May I have a copy of the charges for my file, though?"
"Yes, of course. Do you wish to be heard on bail?"
"Yes, your honor. My client assures me he can pay a reasonable sum. He's a hard-working family man, so it would be in society's best interest to allow him to continue to work and provide for his family while he waits to address these false charges."
I'm proud to say I kept a straight face during all of that. She impressed me with her quick thinking, though. Criminal attorney or not, she was clever. I had a fondness for clever. Clever kept you alive.
Cute and smart. I should get arrested more often.
"Very well. Bail is set in the amount of five hundred dollars cash. If your client is able to post it now, he can be processed downstairs instead of going back to county." She looked up at me and arched an eyebrow. I nodded and motioned my crew forward.
"That's acceptable. Thank you, your honor."
"Off the record," the judge said to the court reporter. He looked back up at my attorney. "See, that wasn't so hard, Miss Kendall." The judge's face lit up in a wolfish smile I didn't take kindly to. Already in my head, I'd laid claim to this woman whose first name I didn't even know.
The sheriff came over and gripped my elbow.
"Can't you remove the restraints, now?" she asked the sheriff with wide, pleading eyes.
To say her request stunned me would be an understatement. No one had ever given a crap about my discomfort.
The sheriff did not look surprised. He answered her gently. "No counselor, not till he's posted the bail money. You can meet us downstairs." He nodded toward the guys standing behind the banister. "His posse can show you the way."
She hesitated, and I read the expression on her face loud and clear. She didn't want to follow my crew anywhere. In fact, she looked like she wanted to run away.
"Go ahead, I'll be fine." I appreciated that she'd given it a try. Sheriffs wouldn’t break protocol no matter how owl-eyed innocent she acted. It sure turned me on, though. Maybe that was the moment I fell in love with her.
Autumn prefers to write her romances on the classy side of dirty, and she's a sucker for a filthy-talking, demanding alpha male hero. The bigger the better. She believes true love stories never end.
Some of Autumn's favorite hobbies include reading, writing, acting, music and horror movies. When she's home, her faithful Pug is always by her side. She's an active member of her local chapter of Romance Writers of America.
Autumn was born and raised in upstate New York. She still enjoys all four seasons there with her very own alpha hero and their three rescue dogs.
You can find Autumn on Facebook and she always loves to hear from readers at:
Series: Surrender Series #3
Author: Rachel Madbury
Genre: Adult Romantic Suspense
Published: May 26, 2016
There was a time when Graciella Snow didn’t know what she wanted from life. Growing up without her mother had left her directionless and apathetic, her anger and resentment closing her off from everyone around her.
But that was before… After following in her mother’s footsteps to the coast of Maine she’s finally getting a sense for who she is and what she wants from life, but at what cost?
Falling in love with Alexander has opened her up in ways she never dreamed of, and now that love is on the line. Even with all of Alexander’s attempts to protect her, Grace finds herself in more danger than ever before as they learn the terrifying truth about her mother’s past, and come face to face with a darkness that refuses to be forgotten.
Rachel Madbury is a writer of sexy romances whose alter ego rocks a classic 9-to-5 in the beautiful city of Boston. A life long New Englander who loves to travel she was slow to admit to being the romantic-at-heart that she is. Though she went to college for writing, she only recently began dabbling in the addictive world of romantic fiction…
It’s safe to say, she’s hooked.
With the help of plenty of Red Bull and late nights she explores the worlds of her characters, relishing the ride they take her on, and falling in love right beside them.
Author: Susan Renee
Genre: New Adult/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 22, 2016
Moving back home wasn't anything I ever wanted.
But after enduring the worst,
Going home was the only answer.
Being back is everything I thought it would be...
Awful, isolating, a constant reminder of what I lost.
And the last thing I need--or want--is more reminders of my past,
Especially Bryant Wood.
That's all I feel--all I can see when I look at Savannah Turner.
I want to hold her, feel her, love her,
And thank her for what's she given me.
But I can't show her the gratitude.
The gift she's given me.
It'll ruin everything.
A secret I must keep--a secret that could break her.
All over again.
January 1, 2013
“You are my sunshine…”
“My only sunshine…”
Fight for mommy.
“You make me happy…”
Breathe baby girl.
“When skies are gray…”
You can do it Peyton.
“You’ll never know dear…”
Please. Please Peyton breathe on your own.
“How much I love you.”
Don’t you die on me baby girl.
“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”
Beep. Swoosh…..Beep. Swoosh…..Beep. Swoosh.
I sit here next to her hospital bed holding her little seventeen-month old lifeless fingers, so delicate, so small. I think about her first birthday and how adorable she was with cake all over her face, her tummy and in her hair. Peyton is the happiest little girl and so full of life.
She was so full of life.
Susan Renee wants to live in a world where paint doesn’t smell, Hogwarts is open twenty-four/seven, and everything is covered in glitter. An indie romance author, Susan has written about everything from lawn mowers to thick colossal bottles of wine, and has won a Snuggle Buddy award for her nonfiction book, “The Hula Hoop Tester’s Guide to Jumping.” She lives in Ohio with her family and seven tiny donkeys. She’s a Pet Whispering major from OMGU with a Masters in medical care for inanimate objects (a la Doc McStuffins). Susan enjoys crab-walking through the Swiss Alps, drinking Muscle Milk, and doing the Care Bear stare with her closest friends.
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Title: Sociopath's Obsession
Series: Sociopath, Book One
Author: V.F. Mason
Genre: Dark Romance
Published: May 17, 2016
Life, as I knew it, was over one year ago.
I lost my family, my home and any support that came with it.
Living in a crappy apartment with my roommate and working two jobs was not how I envisioned my future.
However, that was one of the things my family had taught me.
Dreams and illusions held no power in the real world.
All this was worth it though as long as I knew I was safe.
Until he showed up, shattering any peace I had.
Violence towards those who wronged me was my only salvation and revenge.
Nothing brought me greater pleasure than the pain and suffering I inflicted on my victims.
Until I met her.
She became my obsession.
If I were a better man, I would have left her alone and never made her part of my life.
But I was a monster.
And monsters didn't have hearts.
âAll I can tell you is if you want a book that is going to crawl up into your skin and grab a hold of your soul this is it. Its brutal, its terrifying, its consuming and its one of the best (yes friends) love stories of two people I have EVER read.â - Reader Review
âIâve read a lot of dark books, but I think this may be one of my absolute favorites Iâve read this year!!â - Alpha Book Club
V.F.Mason always loved reading books and had quite a few fights with her momma over the genre she liked (romance, duh!) She studied filmmaking and thought that would feed her desire for stories, but that didn't happen.Finally, when she was tired of all those voices in her head, she sat down and wrote a book. It was a huge decision to make and she thanks her friends and family for supporting her in it.When she is not writing, she can be found with her friends doing all sorts of crazy things or reading recent romance books that were written by her favorite authors.
Title: Broken Soldier
Author: Jamie Lynn Miller
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: March 5, 2016
Sergeant Connor Finley and Sergeant Shawn Weller are dedicated soldiers working covert ops for Shadow Unit -- a joint UK/US anti-terrorism task force.
Partners in the field and out, they had been through hell together for the last four years and made it through standing side by side. But when their latest undercover op to bring down an arms dealer plunges them into a world of drugs, sex and violence, Shawn must literally get in bed with the enemy in order to complete the mission. And Connor is forced to watch, helpless, as his partner is broken into pieces. Will love be enough to put them both back together or will this be their final mission? WARNING: Contains scenes of drug use, graphic sex and realistic situations.
eBook copy of any backlist title
Jamie Lynn Miller has been writing fiction since childhood and decided to take the plunge and go pro in 2008, finding to her amazement that people truly enjoyed her love stories. She’s a romantic at heart, and her tales reflect the desire we all have to find “the one,” persevering through trials and heartache for that happy ending.
Jamie has a degree in fine arts and has spent the last twenty years working as a graphic designer, though she’d much rather be writing. She was born in Chicago and still lives there today with her husband and their two furry, four-footed children, er… cats.
If she’s not brainstorming story ideas, you can find Jamie at a sci-fi convention, in front of a furnace doing glass blowing, or on a mat twisted into a yoga pose.
Title: Always His
Series: Crazed Devotion #1
Author: C.A. Harms
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Published: May 9, 2016
It isn’t always as easy as it sounds.
Becoming a Marine had been Ryker’s dream, but that dream faded when it led to losing the one girl who held his heart.
Returning to Alabama after being gone for more than five years was going to be hard, but he couldn’t continue to live without her.
His world seemed empty and there was only one thing that could heal that void.
Beg for her forgiveness…
And never let her go again.
She would always be his...
“Every time I read a C.A. Harms book I think I have found my favorite book, then I read her next one and I fall in love all over again! Always His is the first book in a new series called Crazed Devotion and it starts with a BANG!” ~Geri from Southern Yankee Book Reviews
“Absolutely one of the most romantic love stories I have ever read.” ~Nancy from My Girlfriends Nook Corner
C.A. Harms is like any other addicted reader. She enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories. She hasn't always been a lover of Romance and had once been addicted to a good Mystery. Just recently she has taken on a new liking and now is a full blown Romance novel addict.
She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. You will always find her with her kindle or paperback in hand as it is her favorite pass time.
The Traveling Series
“The word L♥ve burned on his lips…”
Three best-selling stories of CARNIVAL life
The Traveling Man * The Traveling Woman * Roustabout
In one boxed set for the first time
THE TRAVELING MAN
I was ordinary. Nice.
He was extraordinary. And he wasn’t always nice.
Moody and difficult, brilliant and beautiful, Kes scared me and he protected me. He could be incredibly hurtful and incredibly thoughtful. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me. He challenged me, he took me out of my safe little box and showed me the world could be magnificent. He was everything I wasn’t.
Aimee Anderson is ten when the traveling carnival first comes to her nice little town. She doesn’t expect her world to change so completely. But meeting Kestrel Donohue puts her life on a different path.
Even though she only sees him for the two weeks of the year when he passes through her home town, his friendship is the most important of her life. As a child’s friendship grows to adult love, the choices become harder, and both Kes and Aimee realize that two weeks a year will never be enough…
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
THE TRAVELING WOMAN
How many times do you gamble on love? When love has knocked you down, should you give it another chance? When does optimism become stupidity?
And what happens when the man you’re in love with is never still, always moving, always traveling? Do you say goodbye, or do you leave behind everything that you’ve worked for, everything that you’ve ever known? Can a traveling carnival be my home?
Oh. You thought I had the answers. No, sorry. No answers, just a lot of questions—and a heart that wants to rule my head.
Can one person be my home?
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
I’ve been thinking a lot about family. It’s not where you come from that matters, the people you were born to. That’s just life’s lottery. No, your real family are the people who travel your road, the family you choose for yourself. My brothers don’t share my blood, but they share my hopes and dreams, understand my fears, know what makes me tick.
They know I have rules, they just don’t know why. And I’m happy to keep it that way.
I love women. Love ‘em. The more the better. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, they can have freakin’ purple stripes—I don’t care. As long as they know about the rules, I’m not hurting anyone.
* * * * *
Twelve years ago Tucker McCoy walked away from the hell that was his family with not much more than the shirt on his back. No regrets. Never once looking back.
Living his life as a roustabout turned stunt rider with a traveling carnival keeps a smile on his face. His new family are the people he’s chosen to be in his life, the people who travel his road. Kes, Zach and Zef don’t share his blood, but they share his hopes and dreams. Understand his fears and know what makes him tick. They’re his brothers, his real family.
If you keep moving, no one can catch you—it’s a simple rule. So when Tucker crosses paths with Tera Hawkins, he knows he should move on. There’s no woman that’s ever been worth breaking his rules for. Besides, she’s off limits, untouchable. He knows stronger men would walk away, but dammit, he’s always been weak.
All he can offer her is a night she’ll never forget, but will that one taste be enough?
I breathed in the scent of frying onions and hotdogs, the sweet air around the cotton candy stall, watching the excited faces of children and the restrained excitement of adults as they moved down the midway. The scents and sounds took me back to a magical part of my childhood. I’ve missed this, I thought. The carnival had been such an important part of my life, and I’d cut it off ruthlessly—even if it was to protect my heart from further damage.
My nephew tugged on my hand, almost overwhelmed with the choices surrounding him.
First stop was the Monkey Maze which Dylan adored and went a long way to running off some of his nonstop energy. Then we headed down the midway, playing all the dumb games and trying to win stuffed elephants and toys that no one in their right mind would ever want. But that was the point, wasn’t it? The fair wasn’t about being sensible, it was about having as much fun as was legal.
I had a little pang when we went on the Ferris wheel, but it was so different being there with Dylan that I didn’t really mind.
I couldn’t help wondering if the whole thing hadn’t helped me grow up a little. After all, it had been eight years. I was nearly 25—definitely time to get over it. Over Kes. He-who-must-not-be named. But breaking up with my last boyfriend had left me feeling surprisingly emotional—and add that to being back in Minnesota.
In the afternoon, Dylan decided he wanted to go see the show playing at the back end of the fair. There was some motorcycle stunt rider that he wanted to see.
I wasn’t very keen. I’d seen things like that on TV—those guys were nuts.
We could hear the roar of engines set against the backdrop of some heavy rock music, presumably to ramp up the drama. My sister winced at the volume and I raised my eyebrows.
With resigned shrugs, we paid our 15 bucks each and went inside.
We’d missed the first few minutes and had to squeeze into the middle of a row of seats, much to the annoyance of the other patrons. I didn’t think we’d missed much because all I could see through a cloud of dust and fumes, was some guy in red and black leathers, using his poor motorcycle to screech around, leaving a pattern of tight circles in the dirt. Dylan told me these were called ‘donuts’. Good to know.
Those were followed by a display of wheelies: along the ground, up ramps and onto seesaws. I liked the innovation of a digital display on a large wall-mounted screen that showed the rider’s hair-raising point of view. If I squinted, I could see the camera mounted on his helmet.
Then he picked some poor woman from the audience who practically threw herself at him, and he practiced screeching around her, and skidding to a halt inches from her open legs. Ugh. She had her eyes closed the whole time, not that I blamed her for that, and I think half the audience were hoping that he’d run her over, but he didn’t.
He followed that with some wheelies standing on the seat, first on the back wheel and then on the front wheel, which was pretty cool, even doing it with no hands, which made me wonder how he controlled the bike.
So far it was technically stunning, but not that exciting. Apparently things were only just getting started. Next up were the jumps, and that had me gripping my seat. Two ramps, about sixty feet apart were set up. He raced up one, flying through the air. I gasped as his feet left the footrests and he seemed to be doing a handstand on the handlebars. I was sure I was going to see a horrible crash, and watched through my fingers as he landed.
Dylan was whooping and cheering, but Jennifer looked a little queasy.
“I want to do that, Mommy!” shouted Dylan.
Jennifer threw me a horrified look, and I shrugged as if to say, You wanted to come here.
But then the stunt guy topped that by doing a full somersault in the air. I squeaked with nerves as he seemed to mis-time his landing, but I guess that was all part of the act.
Jennifer tugged my elbow. “Bathroom break,” she mouthed.
Yeah, right. No coincidence on the timing, although, to be fair, she did look a little green.
Then two more riders entered the arena and they all jumped the ramp one after another, the guy in red and black freakin’ laying on his bike, hands in the air.
Insane. They were all insane.
And I thought that before two of the riders screamed up opposite ramps, seeming sure to hit each other midair, but missing by mere inches.
I’d never seen anything like it and was relieved when it was over.
Dylan was so excited he sounded as if he’d been sniffing helium. His squeaky high-pitched yells broke through my trance.
“Aunty Aimee, they’re signing programs! Can we go, can we?” And he waved the program in my face that we’d been given along with our tickets.
“Sure thing, buddy.”
I was happy to do anything now it was all over.
We made our way down to the arena where the three guys were chatting to the crowds. Unsurprisingly, the most popular was the guy in red and black leather.
Apparently, he was some sort of world record holder, jumping his bike more than 180 feet by Sydney Harbor Bridge, Australia, or so the program said. I couldn’t say I’d ever heard of Hawkins’ Daredevils.
He had his back to us and I could hear his deep laugh as a bunch of kids asked him questions. He was really patient with them, which I appreciated, and seemed genuinely interested as he chatted with them.
Finally, he turned to us, and my breath rushed out of my lungs. I was staring up into silver-gray eyes that still haunted my dreams.
He looked equally shocked, but recovered so quickly, I wondered if I’d imagined it.
“It … it’s Aimee … Aimee Andersen.”
He stared at me, his expression giving away nothing.
“Yeah, I remember you,” he said at last, his voice grudging.
He was taller than I remembered, perhaps by as much as three or four inches, and much broader. Under his t-shirt his chest was well defined, and his biceps popped as he moved his arms. His hair was a shade darker than the pictures in my memory, and his face was narrower—the roundness of childhood long gone.
The dark scruff on his chin was new. My Kes hadn’t needed to shave.
I finally met his eyes. Those were the same. Still silvery-gray with the curious dark blue ring around the iris. And now they were staring at me without a hint of warmth.
I licked my lips and watched his eyes drop almost reflexively before he looked up again angrily.
“What are you doing here, Aimee?”
For as long as I can remember, I wanted to write. Perhaps it was growing up in a village well known for its mystery and folklore, which sparked my imagination as a child.
I enjoy writing in several different genres, and I've just published my first romcom, 'Dazzled'.
All my books have a little me in them, and I'm inspired by the personal stories of those around me. It's often from a simple discussion overheard in the train ('Exposure'), in a café, or in the street, where ideas for characters or scenes come to me.
I fell in love with both Sam ('The New Samurai') and the eponymous Sebastian in 'The Education of Sebastian' and the sequel 'The Education of Caroline', and missed them desperately once I'd finished their stories. I love writing dialogue and always try to include touches of humour in the most poignant stories.
Whether you like adult romance novels, new or young adult writing, thrillers, or fantasy, I hope you'll enjoy the journey through my stories.
Title: Dark Attraction
Series: Corde Noire Society Novel #2
Author: Alexandrea Weis
Genre: Dark Erotic Romance
Sometimes, the dark side of pleasure can turn deadly.
From New Orleans, Alexandrea Weis was raised in the motion picture industry and began writing stories at the age of eight. In college she studied nursing and went on to teach at a local university. After several years in the medical field, she decided to pick up the pen once again and began her first novel, To My Senses. Since that time she has published many novels. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her award-winning books, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story memorable. Her work has been critically acclaimed and has been continually growing in popularity.
Alexandrea Weis is also a certified/permitted wildlife rehabber with the La. Wildlife and Fisheries. When she is not writing, she rescues orphaned and injured wildlife. She is married; they live in New Orleans.
Title: Heroine Hearts
Author: Kirsty-Anne Still
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: March 28, 2016
-a highly addictive analgesic drug derived from morphine, often used illicitly as a narcotic producing euphoria.
-a woman admired for her courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.
He saw me as one.
I became addicted to the other.
He saw us as forever.
I saw our love story as bittersweet.
It was all caused by one thing - total, abominable darkness.
But that was what we loved the most.
After all, darkness made these heroine hearts.
**This is a dark romance, due to the subject material within the book. Heroine Heart is advised for readers of a mature nature and not suitable for any readers under 18. Read at your own discretion. Use of tough subject matter includes rape, substance abuse, and violence.**
His head snaps up with my innocent question.
“Are you serious right about now?” he asks me, his eyes wide and boring into me. “You’re asking me what’s wrong...”
“Yeah,” I say, gulping back against my dry throat. “You can’t be angry about this.”
“I can’t?” he queries, his eyebrows shooting up, his eyes widening.
“I deserve this,” I say, reiterating the words to make them real.
“Come here,” he orders gently, ignoring my plea.
I do as I’m told, moving toward him slowly. It’s as I get close enough, he reaches inside, placing a hand around my left wrist. He pulls my arm out and through the bars, forcing it to become outstretched and on show. His fingers begin to trail across the points which Santiago forced those needles into my veins, getting his immediate response to me on drugs. They left angry pinpricks across my skin, showing exactly where the high started.
“It’s nothing,” I tell him once more, trying my hardest to get my hand back from him.
He scoffs on that response, not letting me go. “What have they been forcing you to take?” He asks, his fingers falling away from the track marks.
“Heroin,” I whisper, my eyes dropping in shame.
“And you want some more?” he asks me, his eyes coming up to meet mine.
I don’t speak, I just bite down on my lip.
Javier’s face darkens once more, but he’s yet to let me go.
“You do don’t you?”
“It’s all I can think about,” I admit, shamefulness filters into my system, positioned right next to the deep rooted craving. “Just something to make me feel better.”
“It won’t help,” he tells me, trying to make me face up to the facts.
“It will... for a moment,” I admonish foolishly. I yank my arm away from him, moving a little further away from the bars. “It’ll help,” I say it more to appease my own fragile mentality, not to force Javier to believe me. “It will, Javier, it’ll make this all better.”
And now he sees the girl who was presented to him on his first day. The girl with the slow burning addiction and the eager need for punishment in order to justice her every sin.
I took everything that was dealt my way as a way of chastisement. My boss and his son had no idea they were helping a criminal get her penalty for being just as bad as everyone else. Now Javier sees it. He’s slowly seeing what Eighteen is really made of.
Kirsty is more than comfortable with talking to imaginary people - if it means they're writing a book!
She's a British author with a habit of bad jokes, dirty mindedness and a love of laughing at the worse possible times. She spends her time balancing a full-time job with writing while trying to up her reading game!
Title: The Year I Met August
Author: Renea Porter
Genre: New Adult Romance
Release Date: May 13, 2016
It was the summer before college and Murphy was ready to experience life, as any girl should. During an outing with her sister she meets August. He's older, and more experienced than she is.
She knew a relationship at this point was almost pointless. With an internship at the end of summer and then college in the fall. Her schedule was full.
Murphy told herself that she could walk away from August without any repercussions. If only her heart had listened.
Walking away at the end of the summer was difficult. But they agreed to keep in touch and see each other whenever possible. They still didn't put a label on their relationship.
Eventually August showed his true self. He was so ashamed, he hid his secret from her for as long as possible. Now that his secret was out, Murphy had no clue how to handle it.
Will she stay with him so they can deal with it together? Or will it be too much for her to take on?
I took a drink of my tea. “I was supposed to just walk away after ten days. I thought that was possible. But clearly I was naïve in thinking so.”
“Hey. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“What if all this is too good to be true? They say if it’s too good to be true then it’s not real. I’m scared that August and I will drift apart, and I don’t know if I can handle that.”
She reached over and covered my hand with hers. “Quit over thinking it. Just go with it. Don’t you think you deserve to feel this way? He’s your first boyfriend. Yeah, you’ll have doubts, even fights. But that’s why they invented makeup sex.” She grinned.
She laughed. “Anyway, it’s good to sit and chat, but I should get you back.”
“Will you tell Mom hi for me? And that I love her. And that I’m sorry.”
Melanie stood and hugged me. “Of course. I got your back, always.” She flicked my hair over my shoulder.
We loaded back into the car and headed back to the house. We talked candidly on the way back, and soon, we arrived. “I guess I’ll say bye to you now. I don’t know if I’ll stop at the house or not.” She exited the car and hugged me tight.
With over ten books out, Renea Porter is best known for writing realistic stories with realistic characters. Her stories may even cause you to shed a tear or two. She mainly writes New Adult and Contemporary Romances. However, she's not afraid to venture into other genre's like Paranormal Romance.
She enjoys spending time with her husband of fourteen years, and step son. She calls Pennsylvania home, but loves to travel and try new things. In her free time you can catch her reading books, watching reality tv, and baking.
Title: The Truth of a Liar
Series: Anyone But Him #2 – May be read as standalone
Author: Cassie Graham
Release Date: Oct 20, 2015
“Life doesn’t always go according to plan. In fact, it has a nasty habit of veering off the map. So when my job led me to New York City, something extraordinary happened…her script merged with mine.”
Hadley Theater, New York City, New York - Night
ENTER STAGE LEFT-Rowan Townsend, a twenty-nine year old Broadway starlet, strolls onto the dark, ominous stage. The bright spotlight finds her and she smiles broadly, her body buzzing in anticipation.
Serendipity is a funny thing, isn’t it? It jumps out from behind the bushes and offers an unbelievable chance at happiness. It’s hopeful and intriguing, and maybe even a little terrifying.
ENTER STAGE RIGHT-Lark Hawthorne, a striking twenty-nine year old FBI agent and self-proclaimed liar, marches to Rowan and grabs her arm, coaxing her off stage.
Rowan, what are you doing? We need to leave. It’s not safe here.
Rowan and Lark look out into the audience and a menacing shadow in the back of the theater catches their attention. Her eyes expand in panic and he grips her hand tighter, offering reassurance.
It’s now or never. Are you ready?
EXIT STAGE RIGHT. Fade to black.
I don’t care if it’s sinful. This feeling, right now, it makes all of the bad in my life seem like child’s play in comparison. Landon and Cameron…they’re distant memories.
It’s almost as if I’ve waited all of my life to feel this way with this man.
“I want you. So much, Rowan,” Lark whispers. He reverberates pain, yet his voice is heady. Strained, he hisses as I move my hands lower, settling on the hem of his pants.
I move my head to look at him. I place my hand on his cheek, and touch his bottom lip with my thumb. He’s so soft, yet so incredibly masculine. I want to climb inside of his mind and explore every inch of him. I want to discover all of his inner workings, his secrets. The ones he’ll openly admit to and the ones he hides under his bed.
He clenches his teeth, but his eyes are inquisitive, curious. We stare at each other for an incalculable amount of time. The seconds seem to pass at a glacial pace and in this moment, I’m thankful. I know when this ends, it’ll be done for good.
It’s almost as if I’m visiting a foreign place and it’s my last day and I know if I don’t sample the unique cuisine and take mental pictures of the scenery, I’ll never find the feeling deep inside of me again. It’ll be lost forever.
My stomach flops at the thought.
“Lark.” I breathe. Saying his name in this setting is enough to send me over the edge and into the unknown.
His body vibrates as the word passes my lips, and he moves his face closer to mine. His lips are millimeters from making contact and all I’d have to do is breathe and we’d be connected, but I refuse to move.
“Say it, again,” he demands, his breath washing over my face. “This might be the last time. Say it one more time, please. For me.” He closes his eyes with a small smile playing on the edge of his lips. His hand makes its way up to my face again and he clings to me as if I’m his anchor, tethering him to this world.
I muster all of the courage I have and mutter his name, letting it float out of my mouth, my lips brushing his in the slightest.
Lark hisses, and this time, I know it’s in longing.
Cassie Graham is a firey redhead with an intense love for fairytales--angsty, suspenseful fairytales--but fairytales nonetheless. She's had all kinds of jobs--but the one she loves the most is being a writer. She finds solace in it. She's also a mom to a beautiful little girl. Her greatest joy is watching her grow.
Cassie has always loved to write and is so thankful that she's able to do it full-time. She's very lucky to have a husband who works his booty off working so she can live out her dream. He's the reason why writing romance is so easy.
Cassie is a born and raised Arizona girl. Though she has moved around a bit, her home always calls to her. It's where her heart will remain.
If Cassie isn't writing, she's more than likely cooking in the kitchen with her daughter or has her nose buried deep in a good book. She loves front porch sitting, drinking coffee, and constantly dating her husband.
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: May 13, 2016
You know that group of people in school that everyone fears? Popular. Beautiful. The in-crowd?
That was my family. Kind of.
We were above that group. We held court over everyone else. We were the best looking. We were the mysterious and elusive ones. Most of the girls wanted to (and did) date the guys, but they didn’t want to be one of us. They couldn’t be. They were our prey.
We were the feared.
But like every family, nothing is as it seems. That was my truth.
Kellan was in his own league. He was our leader and he was the one no one messed with. No one dared. He was ruthless, powerful, and no one could match him…
Except for me.
I was about to find out just how different I was from my family.
**Evil is a full-length paranormal romance stand-alone.
Buy today for $0.99!
“Kellan and Shay Braden, why is it always you two? And if it’s not the two of you, it’s your other two siblings. All the time.” Mr. Mirchak approached, shaking his head. “Who’d you fight this time, Kellan?”
I should’ve felt something, maybe remorse, but there was nothing. Matt had assaulted me. Kellan felt it and protected me. And if Matt chose to run away, then that was Matt’s decision. But still…I should’ve felt guilty.
Kellan drew to his full height of six one and squared his lean shoulders against the portly forty-something teacher. He shook his head. “Do you see anyone, Mr. Mirchak?”
The balding teacher shook his head. “I never see anyone, Kellan. That’s the problem. But I know that someone’s going to show up with a busted eye, maybe a shoulder. I don’t know, but there’s always something.” He turned away, but mumbled over his shoulder, “…too damn scared to say a thing…”
Kellan waited until the teacher had turned the corner before he flashed a smile. “What do you think?”
I rolled my eyes and kicked my locker open. “You didn’t have to hurt his jaw.”
“Right.” Kellan fell against the locker beside mine and studied me. “At least this way, he’ll shut up all the time. I’m getting tired of his mouth. The guy thinks he knows you too much. He doesn’t know anything.”
“Still…” I muttered as I bent inside to grab my book.
“Still,” Kellan mimicked me and yanked me out. “Why didn’t you do something, Shay?”
“What are you talk—?”
“Don’t. Not with me,” Kellan interrupted. “You could’ve stopped him long before I came around the corner. You knew I was coming. Why didn’t you stop him?”
“Maybe I wanted to hear his rhetoric on how hot I must be for him.”
“Don’t be funny, Shay. You’re not the funny one, remember?”
I smirked. “That’s funny. I don’t think that role’s been taken in our family.”
Kellan’s hand tightened on my arm. He pulled me closer and bent his head to my ear. “You always wait for me. Why?”
Maybe I couldn’t bring myself to do what he enjoyed. Maybe I liked knowing he’d always protect me or that someone would protect me. Maybe…maybe I enjoyed the sick pleasure knowing that someone like Matt could never really hurt me, though he didn’t know that fact. Or maybe…I whispered, “I don’t know, okay?”
I didn’t know. I had ideas. I had possible scenarios, but the only truth was, I could’ve easily broken Matt’s hold on me and I didn’t.
I didn't begin writing until after undergraduate college. There'd been storylines and characters in my head all my life, but it came to a boiling point one day and I HAD to get them out of me. So the computer was booted up and I FINALLY felt it click. Writing is what I needed to do. After that, I had to teach myself how to write. I can't blame my teachers for not teaching me all those years in school. It was my fault. I was one of the students that was wishing I was anywhere but at school! So after that day, it took me lots of work until I was able to put together something that resembled a novel. I'm hoping I got it right since someone must be reading this profile! And I hope you keep enjoying my future stories.
Title: Lost & Bound
Author: Tara Hart
Genre: New Adult Romance/Dark Romance
Release Date: May 16, 2016
That’s how long I've been here. Captive. Frightened. Alone.
The little human contact I receive is not what I crave. It's not a friend’s comforting arm or my mother’s swift kiss. It's rough contact—forced, and familiar for all the wrong reasons. I don’t want him there, but I’m powerless to stop him. He says that he owns me and that I am his.
“Emmy,” he calls me. That’s not my name, but as more time passes I’m starting to forget things.
What is my name? Where am I from? Who was I before I came here?
That’s how long I’ve known Callum, and already, I trust him with my life. I was so sure I would never crave another man, but he challenges everything I thought I knew— everything I felt.
He says that he’ll save me. I believe him.
He calls me “Leila.” It sounds like a name that belongs to me and it reminds me of a past I was starting to forget.
The escape is planned and my fate is in his hands, but if this doesn’t work, what will become of me?
WARNING: This book contains disturbing situations, graphic depictions of rape, strong language and violence.
It’s six o’clock. I know he’ll be home soon so I’ve settled back in the basement. Some days he comes straight down to check on me, other days he’ll eat first and then visit me after dinner. Sometimes he doesn’t come down at all. Those days are rare, but they’re what I hope for.
Today is Wednesday. He’ll be tired, but will have more energy than the previous two nights. He’ll probably expect something from me. Maybe a blow job, perhaps something more. I know his routine better than he knows himself and most importantly, I know it without him realizing.
I hear the front door close then latch. I listen for this sound every day. The sound makes me quiver, even after all these years. It signifies the end of my solitude and the beginning of the torment that will follow.
I listen for his footsteps, his rubber soles hitting hardwood floors. The steps become louder and louder until I hear the basement doorknob turn.
Today he’s coming straight to see me. I take in a breath as his heavy footsteps descend the flimsy wooden staircase. He heads straight toward the bed where I am huddled, the bedside lamp the only glow in the otherwise dimly lit room.
“Good evening, precious,” he purrs and my skin instantly crawls from the sound of his voice. He pauses for a moment and then let’s out an exaggerated sigh. “Aren’t you going to say hello?” His tone tells me to comply.
I keep my voice even, void of any emotion. “Hello.”
The bed dips as he takes a seat on the edge and reaches for my bare foot. He runs his fingers along my skin and I fight back the urge to kick him in the face.
I used to be ticklish and no one could come close to touching my feet. It’s amazing how captivity can change things about a person. It can quash any quirks you used to have and make you feel nothing at all.
He reaches for my right foot and brings it to his lap, gently pressing each toe between his thumb and forefinger. I don’t know if this is supposed to be a turn on, but it’s not. Nothing this man does ever turns me on.
I stare at Osborne as he begins to massage the balls of my feet, repeating the same kneading motion with gentle pressure. I don’t know why he insists on touching my feet, I hate it and I hate him.
He stops massaging and runs a hand through his hair. Hair that was once brown, but now the grey is threatening to taking over. I wonder when I last looked at him. I hadn’t noticed the change in his hair color until now.
Osborne looks up at me, his eyes wrinkled at the sides.
“Have you been a good girl today?”
His lips form a subtle smirk. I hardly ever see him smile. The expression unsettles me.
“Answer me, Emmy,” he commands.
“I…I’m good.” Is all I can manage.
He runs his fingers along his chin, the overgrown stubble brushing against his fingertips.
“We have a party on Friday night,” he tells me.
I squeeze my eyes closed. Another party. I feel the tears pool in my eyes, but I blink them away.
“Rosa will be here tomorrow to help you get prepared.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, determined not to let the tears fall.
“Emmy,” he says. When I don’t look at him, he says my name again. “Emmy.”
I open my eyes hesitantly. “Nod if you understand me.”
I nod my head once and he smiles, but it fades instantly.
“Good. Now, why aren’t you dressed for me?”
I waver slightly before opening a gap in my robe.
He draws in a deep breath in anticipation. It’s a disgusting sound that makes me want to gag. The air whistles between his teeth and then a low groan escapes from the back of his throat.
“There it is,” he says as the robe falls from my shoulders and onto the comforter.
His eyes assault me, focusing on my cleavage and then my naked crotch.
I’m wearing my Wednesday outfit, a red negligee with matching crotchless panties.
He loves this look, he tells me every time. He loves me in red.
“Beautiful,” he slurs the word as his hand reaches up my leg.
I close my eyes and hold my breath as if it’s an impulse. His hand trails up to my knee, his fingertips reaching the inside of my thigh as I mentally prepare myself. It won’t last forever. It won’t last forever. I repeat the mantra in my head. It usually gets me through nights like these.
Just when his finger reaches the apex of my thighs, the doorbell sounds. It’s faint but we both hear it, causing Osborne to snatch his hand away.
My eyes snap open. He’s already standing at the foot of the bed, looking toward the staircase.
“Not a word,” he warns.
He rushes upstairs and quietly closes the basement door behind him.
I hear his footsteps hurry toward the entry foyer as I sneak to the top of the staircase, listening for voices. I jump in surprise when the doorbell rings again. This isn’t normal. On Wednesday’s we don’t have visitors.
Tara Hart writes romance stories for those searching for their happily ever after. Her new releases include No Angel – a new adult novel and Lost & Bound – a stand-alone read that teeters on dark romance.
Tara was born and raised in Australia. She currently spends her time traveling around Asia finding inspiration for her next story.
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