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EXCERPT TOUR: BACKSTAGE PASS by OLIVIA CUNNING

THE SINNERS ARE BACK! Join us in celebrating the reissue the first in a sizzling rock-star romance series – one of our FAVORITE series –  from USA Today bestselling author Olivia Cunning.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Backstage Pass Cover - rereleaseIt’s been months since Brian Sinclair, lead guitarist for the famous rock band, The Sinners, composed anything. Unable to write the music that once flowed so naturally, Brian is lost without his musical mo-jo. But when sexy psychology professor Myrna Evans comes on tour to study groupie mentality, Brian may have found the spark he needs to re-ignite his musical genius. When lust turns to love, will Brian be able to convince Myrna that what they have is more than just a fling, and that now that he’s found his heart’s muse, he doesn’t want to live without her?

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PURCHASE A COPY: AMAZON / B&N / iBOOKS / KOBO

 

EXCERPT:

He handed her a bottle of juice and searched the take-out bag for a breakfast sandwich. “Why are you still dressed?” he asked. “I thought you were going to be my plate.”

She held up one finger, stuffing the last bite of her sausage and biscuit into her mouth, and then opened her juice to take a long drink.

She fished the money he’d given her out of her pocket and handed it to him. “I owe you a hundred and twenty bucks,” she said. He tossed the money onto the dresser.

“Myr, you really don’t have to pay me back.”

“Why not? You don’t think I can afford to?”

He’d never seen her angry before. He liked the way her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.

“I don’t know,” he teased. “You’re a teacher. You don’t make much money, do you?”

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Are you going to hit me?” he asked hopefully.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, naughty boy.”

His eyes dropped to her waist. “Will you use your belt?”

“I thought Jace was the one with the masochism fetish.”

He glanced up at her, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“Groupies talk.”

“Do they? And what do they say about me?”

She chuckled. “That you’re a boring, one-woman man.”

He winced.

“I only agree with that second part,” she added.

“So I’m not boring?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always been the skeptical type and I can be hard to convince without lots of evidence.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I see. So I need to prove I’m exciting.”

“I think that would be for the best.”

He looked down at the sandwich in his hand. “Can I eat first?”

“Please do.” She took another long drink of her juice and set it down on the dresser.

She removed her shoes and belt. Jace’s jeans slid down low on her hips. She unbuttoned the fly and let them fall to the floor. She tugged off Brian’s borrowed T-shirt. He should wear that one on stage tonight to keep her close.

“Do I need to be completely naked to be your plate?” she asked.

He realized he was holding his sandwich in front of his open mouth, but hadn’t taken a bite.

“Yeah. I’ve never seen a plate in underwear before.”

She unfastened her bra and tossed it aside. She pushed her breasts up with her hands. “You know these things used to be perkier.” She looked down at the twin globes of flesh spilling from her palms.

He didn’t understand why, but by not trying to act seductive, she was actually turning him on more. “They’re perfect.”

Her panties joined her jeans on the floor. She glanced over her shoulder, straining her neck to try to see her butt. “I think my ass used to be perkier, too.”

Brian bit into his sandwich, chewing slowly.

“Gravity is a woman’s worst enemy.” She looked up at him uncertainly.

He swallowed. “You’re beautiful, Myrna.”

“Does it bother you that I’m older than you are?”

“Yeah, like, what, six months older?”

“I’m thirty-five.”

He hadn’t expected her to be seven years older than him, but frankly, he didn’t care how old she was. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever met. “You’re in your sexual prime, Myrna. And trust me, that doesn’t bother me at all.”

“You could have any hot young woman you want—”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s Master Sinclair!” Myrna squealed and trembled from head to foot with excitement. “Oh my God! Will you sign my tits? Please. Please. You’re soooo hot!”

He tossed his sandwich aside, grabbed a handful of ketchup packets from the take-out bag, and tackled her to the bed. He straddled her hips to hold her down.

“Certainly, I’ll sign your tits, miss. Anything for a fan.” He opened a ketchup packet with his teeth. She laughed uncontrollably, squirming beneath him. “Hold still.”

She stopped squirming and looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide. He began to write across her chest in ketchup.

“P-R,” he spelled aloud. “O-P.” He tossed the empty packet on the floor and reached for another.

“Prop?”

“I’m not finished.”

“That tickles.” She giggled.

“E-R-T-Y.”

“What are you writing?”

He opened another packet and wrote in the middle of her belly. “O-F.” He moved to her lower belly. “B-R.”

“Property of brrrrrrr?”

“Yeah, property of brrrrr. Exactly.” He opened another packet of ketchup and finished his name on her belly. “Perfect. Property of Brian. I just need to dot this i.”

He dabbed a dot of ketchup in the center of her nipple. “Damn, I missed.”

He lowered his head and licked the misplaced ketchup off. She laughed, her fingers stealing into his hair.

“Let me try that again.” He dripped ketchup on her other nipple. “Damn my terrible aim.”

He sucked the tangy ketchup from her nipple, loving the way the rosy peak hardened against his tongue. He stroked the bud vigorously with the center of his tongue until she shuddered and made that maddeningly sexy sound in the back of her throat. His cock hardened instantly.

He was done for. Again.

He lifted his head and dribbled ketchup on her lower lip. Her tongue darted out between her lips.

“Hold it. It’s my mess. Only fair that I clean it up.” He leaned over her and kissed her deeply.

Her lips tasted spicy, like sausage. Which reminded him. He hadn’t finished his breakfast. He broke away from her hungry kiss and looked down at her. “Do you want some hash browns?”

She chuckled. “You know what I want, Brian.”

“Hash browns.” He climbed from the bed and retrieved the bag of food from the surface of the dresser.

“I think maybe you are boring,” she teased, watching him from the bed.

He glanced at her, liking the way “Property of Brian” looked written across her body. He wondered if he could talk her into getting a tattoo to make his claim permanent. Climbing back onto the bed with her, he covered the ketchup with chains of small potato rounds. When he had them spread to his satisfaction, he lowered his head and licked one off her body.

“Yeah, hash browns are definitely boring,” he said.

She grinned at him. “I think I like being your plate.”

He chewed and swallowed his ketchup-coated hash brown. “You don’t mind the mess?”

“I assume you’re going to clean up after yourself.”

“You have a lot of faith in my self-control.”

She traced the angle of his jaw with her finger. “I do. I bet you can resist making love to me for at least ten minutes.”

He licked another hash brown off her chest. “You have a lot more faith in me than I do.” He plucked a hash brown from her chest and popped it in her mouth before slurping several more into his mouth. Ten minutes? He wished he was buried inside her right now. He fed her several hash browns in quick succession and made a pig of himself by eating as fast as he could. Eagerness had gotten the better of him.

She giggled as he licked the food off her belly. “I guess you are hungry.”

“Starving!”

After they finished the hash browns, Brian lapped the remaining ketchup from her silky skin with broad strokes of his tongue. She shuddered beneath him and tugged at his hair.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she gasped, her head tossed back, her back arched.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Raised on hard rock music, award-winning author Olivia Cunning has been known to travel over a thousand miles to see a favorite band in concert. She lives in Quincy, Illinois, where she enjoys sitting on the beach with her feet in the surf and penning naughty books about rock stars.

 

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COVER REVEAL: Race the Darkness by Abbie Roads

It’s precisely 7:22 pm ET, the sun has just set in the east, and it’s starting to get dark…

We are excited to reveal the cover of Race the Darkness, a dark, gritty, emotional and sexy romantic suspense novel by debut author Abbie Roads.

Race the Darkness Cover

First in a gripping paranormal romantic suspense duo by a Golden Heart finalist debut author whose clinical work gives her chilling insights…

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Cursed with a terrible gift
Criminal investigator Xander Stone doesn’t have to question you—he can hear your thoughts. Scarred by lightning, burdened with a power that gives him no peace, Xander struggles to maintain his sanity against the voice that haunts him day and night—the voice of a woman begging him to save her.

That threatens to engulf them…
Isleen Walker has long since given up hope of escape from the nightmare of captivity and torture that is draining her life, her mind, and her soul. Except…there is the man in her feverish dreams, the strangely beautiful man who beckons her to freedom and wholeness. And when he comes, if he comes, it will take all their combined fury and faith to overcome a madman bent on fulfilling a deadly prophecy.

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Race the Darkness will be available on October 4th.

PURCHASE A COPY: AMAZON / B&N / BAM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Abbie Roads is a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. By night she writes dark, emotional novels, always giving her characters the happy ending she wishes for all her clients. Her novels have finaled in RWA contests including the Golden Heart. Race the Darkness is the first book in the Fatal Dreams series of dark, gritty romantic suspense with a psychological twist.

***

Dear Readers,

I wrote Race the Darkness from start to finish three different times, with three different story lines, and with three different titles! The only thing that ever remained the same between the versions was Xander and Isleen. I believed in them and the story they wanted to tell. I hope you love reading about their tragedies and triumphs as much as I enjoyed writing them… All three times! And isn’t the cover amazing, beautiful, gorgeous? I cried the first time I saw it! It made all the hard work to get this book to you worth it!

Abbie Roads

P.S. I would love to connect with you and hear what you think about the cover! You can find me here:

 

EXCERPT:

No fucking way was he going to die running. He stopped, turned and faced the truck barreling toward them. The tires ate up the ground at an indecent rate. He clutched Isleen tighter to his chest. For her sake, he wanted it to be a quick death. No more lingering. No more pain.

That thought infuriated him. None of this was right. They shouldn’t be on the verge of death. Again.

The truck kept coming—twenty-five feet.

Everything slowed, happened as if through the quicksand of time. A white dandelion floaty meandered on the breeze directly between them and the truck. His heart no longer ran a staccato rhythm. Duh…duhm. Pause. Duh…duhm.

Pause.

His life didn’t flash before his eyes. The future did. Isleen’s future. In an ethereal dream beyond time, her skin was gilded by firelight, her eyes void of sadness and fear, her body whole and healthy. She smiled, an expression so full of warmth and tenderness and undiluted joy that it plunked itself down inside his heart and wouldn’t leave.

He ached to create that kind of smile on her face, but their lives were over and it all could’ve gone so differently if he’d only listened to her, believed in her, found her years before now.

RELEASE WEEK BLITZ: I Kissed a Rogue (Covent Garden Cubs, #3) by Shana Galen

Thanks for joining us on the Release Week Blitz Tour for Shana Galen’s latest historical romance, I Kissed a Rogue. We have all kinds of fun stuff for you including an awesome excerpt and a quiz to help you find which hero is right for you. I’m a dog person, so, just saying. ;) Check it out:

WHICH HERO IS YOUR MATCH?:

Which hero is your match-

ABOUT THE BOOK:

I KISSED A ROGUE COVEROnce she spurned the man…

When the Duke of Lennox hires Sir Brook Derring, England’s best investigator, to find his daughter, Brook intends only to rescue the lady and return to his solitary life. He deals with London’s roughest criminals every day of the week; surely he should be able to endure seeing his first love again—the perfect girl who broke his heart…

 

Now her life depends on him

Lady Lillian-Anne Lennox has always done her best to live up to her father’s standards of perfection—at the cost of following her heart. When she’s kidnapped and her perfect life is shattered, Lila has another chance. Together, Lila and Brook navigate not only the dark and deadly side of London, but the chasm of pride and prejudice that divides them.

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PURCHASE A COPY: AMAZON / BARNES & NOBLE / APPLE

EXCERPT:

She had to escape. She couldn’t die down here, in the rank dark, alone. She might deserve such a death, but she’d fight it with every last ounce of strength. She’d almost freed her hands by twisting and working the rope against her chafed wrists until it slackened. Her captors hadn’t tied it very tightly, but that was the only mistake they’d made.

Lila had no idea how long she’d been in the dank, cold cellar, but she knew the moment her life went completely astray. The carriage had raced along the dark streets of London, the familiar clip-clop of the horses’ hooves almost like music in her ears. She’d pulled her thick pelisse more tightly around her bare shoulders and rested her dancing slippers on the warm brick at her feet.

All she’d wanted was her cozy bed and a cup of tea. She hadn’t even cared that by leaving her cousin Rose’s betrothal ball early, she risked her father’s wrath in the morning. She’d attended the betrothal tea, the betrothal dinner, and now the betrothal ball. Would that Rose marry and be done with it. It was during that uncharitable line of thinking that she heard John Coachman call out and the carriage slowed.

Lila had parted the curtains in an effort to see what was the matter, but all she’d seen was the swirl of London fog and the amorphous shapes of the outriders moving to stand protectively in front of the carriage door. She’d sighed with impatient annoyance.

“Now wh—?” She’d clamped her mouth shut at the sound of a thump and an unfamiliar man’s voice. The carriage rocked as the horses danced with fear. She waited for John Coachman’s reassuring words and heard only a muffled shout and the pop of what sounded like her father’s rifle.

Her heart pounding in fear, she’d slid one lock into place and was reaching for the other when and a tall, lanky man yanked the door open.

He’d smiled, his thin lips and cheeks stretching over his facial bones. “Hello, Lady Lillian-Anne.”

From there, everything was a blur. She’d been dragged from the carriage, hooded, and pushed against the conveyance, her hands roughly bound. Lila had been so shocked at her mistreatment, she hadn’t even screamed, and then she’d been lifted and tossed over a man’s shoulders. She hadn’t been carried far before she’d heard the squeak and squeal of a door being pried open and the echo of boots on slatted wood floors. Another door and then another and her captor had carried her down a flight of stairs and dropped her on her bottom.

She’d screamed then and scurried backward, only to run up against a pair of hard boots. A voice, much like the one who’d greeted her, hissed in her ear. “Shut yer potato hole. Keep quiet or I stuff my drawers down yer throat. You hear me, Duchess?”

She’d nodded and closed her mouth. She’d pulled her legs in and hunched her shoulders, making herself small, waiting for what seemed an eternity for what was to happen next. Would they rob her? Rape her?

She was not a duchess, only the daughter of one. She had the wild thought that perhaps the men wanted her stepmother, the Duchess of Lennox. But, no. They’d called her Lady Lillian-Anne. They knew who she was. They’d planned the abduction and whatever was to come next.

Lila had shivered, her body shaking uncontrollably with fear and cold. Finally, the man moved away. At his word, the others followed, and she heard their boots on the stairs and then the thud as the door closed.

She’d sat on the hard floor, the small pebbles and rocks digging into her skin through her silk ballgown and the pelisse. She jumped at the creaks and pops of the building settling, fearing each minute sound was the men returning for her. Gradually, she grew accustomed to the sounds but not the smell, never the smell. Something had died down here—many somethings—and with the hood over her face, she could only imagine. Lila envisioned rat corpses responsible for the sharp, sickly fragrance that burned her nostrils. When she began to imagine human bodies, she bit her lip hard to stop the rising panic.

Strange that in the middle of London, all was silent but for her teeth chattering.

They’d stopped chattering now—after too many hours to count. Lila was too numb to feel the cold any longer. The rope around her wrists was all she cared about. She twisted and pulled until finally she managed to squeeze one hand free. She bit her raw lip against the pain of the rough rope sliding against her bare skin. The gloves she’d painstakingly inched off might have protected her bare skin, but they were one more layer between her and freedom.

With a wince, her wrists slid apart, and she exhaled softly, hugging her arms around her chest. Her shoulders throbbed, and the simple act of rotating them in the opposite direction was sheer bliss. She felt for the opening of the hood she wore and quickly tore it off. Charcoal gray replaced the blackness. If the cellar had openings of any kind, she couldn’t spot them in the dark of night. She prayed it was still night and that morning would show her some sort of escape.

And not a stack of rotting bodies.

She had to find a way out. By now her father must have realized she’d been abducted. He would be frantic with worry. Had her captors sent a ransom note? Was that what this was about? Colin would make the duke pay it. Colin and Lila had grown closer since their mother’s death. He wouldn’t allow their father to ignore a ransom note.

If there was a ransom note.

What if the Duchess of Lennox was behind this? Lila’s stepmother hated her, but even she would not stoop to hiring mercenaries to abduct her stepdaughter.

Lady Selina would. She and Lila had hated each other since their first Seasons, when Lord Hugh had asked Lila to dance before Selina. From then on, it had been war.

Selina was married now and certainly too busy to plan attacks on Lila. But Madeleine Stratham, her cousin Rose’s friend, was not too busy, and she had intentionally stepped on Lila’s gown at the ball tonight, hissing, “Watch out!”

Had that been a warning?

Lila’s head spun. If she tried to count all of her enemies, it would take hours. And who knew what her abductors would do to her when they returned. She pressed her hands against the cold, dirt floor beneath her, moving her fingers until she found her gloves. She pulled them on again, for warmth as much as protection, and moved cautiously forward, hands outstretched. Her knees trembled and wobbled.

“Please no bodies. Please no bodies,” she chanted under her breath.

The cellar was blissfully empty. She discovered a wall and followed it around to the base of the stairwell. Her hands traveled over that rough wood until she found the opening. The stairwell had no railing, so she carefully lifted her skirts and moved slowly and silently upward. Her fingertips touched the wood of the door at the top, and she stood listening.

She heard nothing but silence and the strains of music farther away. Perhaps a tavern or gin house was nearby. She couldn’t be certain a guard wasn’t on the other side of the door, but she tried the handle anyway. The handle moved, but the door did not budge when she pushed on it.

Some sort of lock to keep it closed and secure.

Lila waited, again listening for movement or an indication her efforts to escape had been noted. When she heard nothing, she rattled the door. The wood was flimsy and old. One serious push against it, and she could compromise the lock.

She took a jagged breath and said a quick prayer. She’d never prayed so much—no, she’d been her own god for too many years. Lila stepped back, careful not to go too far and tumble down the stairs, then rammed the door with her shoulder.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Shana Galen is the national bestselling author of fast-paced adventurous Regency historicals, including the RT Reviewers’ Choice The Making of a Gentleman. Her books have been sold in Brazil, Russia, and the Netherlands and featured in the Rhapsody and Doubleday Book Clubs. A former English teacher in Houston’s inner city, Shana now writes full time. She is a happily married wife and mother of a daughter and a spoiled cat and lives in Houston, Texas.

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How to Rescue a Rake (Book Club Belles #3) by Jayne Fresina

how to rescue a rake coverRelease Date: January 5, 2016
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca
Review Copy from NetGalley

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Reject his marriage proposal
Nathaniel Sherringham has returned to Hawcombe Prior a changed man. Gone is the reckless rake who went out on a limb to propose to Diana Makepiece three years ago. Now Nate’s mysterious new wealth has the town’s rumor mill spinning. To stir things up (and get Diana’s attention), Nate boldly announces his plans to marry “any suitable girl” under the age of 25.

Run away
Diana, now 27 and still single, is acutely aware of Nate’s return. When her mother suggests a trip to visit a cousin in Bath, Diana leaps at the chance to escape the heartbreak and regret she can’t help but feel in Nate’s presence…and avoid his irritating charade to find a bride.

But for Nate, Diana has always been the one. He might just have to follow her to Bath and once again lay his heart on the line to win her attention-and her heart.

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OUR THOUGHTS:

I’ve been waiting so long for the impenetrable Diana Makepiece’s story! Her tale is one that’s intrigued me from the beginning with all her quiet introspection and a detectable desire to unleash her innermost desires. Diana’s bright, witty and extremely intelligent, but she’s ruled by the iron fist of her scrutinous mother who makes sure all is right and proper.  It’s a classic case of being stifled by society’s demands of a lady and learning to strike a balance between what’s expected and what makes her happy.  It’s always seemed to me that what makes her happy is Nathaniel Sherringham. Of course she could never admit it. Oh no.  That would never be allowed.

Nathaniel Sherringham is a jovial sort of gentleman who enjoys life. It’s easy to see why Diana’s drawn to him – he seems to be everything she’s not. He’s charming, engaging and wildly popular in society. Unfortunately those same characteristics are why Diana’s mother deems him an inappropriate match for her daughter. Apparently his easy demeanor and tendency to throw caution to the wind would make him a risky, unreliable husband.

In yet another fun, engaging installment of the Book Club Belles Society, Jayne Fresina delivers what at first appears to be a straightforward tale of love lost and second chances. When you dig deeper, however, you find the many complex emotional elements surrounding Diana and Sherry, Diana and her mother, and simply Diana herself. It’s a joy to watch this meek young lady flourish and grow during her adventure in Bath, finally realizing a potential readers have seen all along.  An unexpected bonus for me is seeing the dower Mrs. Makepiece in a whole new light – one that’s not entirely pretty, yet explains quite a bit.

Fresina takes great care to set things in place for future stories with the introduction of the Plumtre sisters during Diana’s time in Bath. These carefree, rambunctious girls are sure to turn Hawcombe Prior upside down with their antics and unpredictable ways. I know I’m definitely looking forward to seeing what mischief awaits them!

RATING: BAD ASS BOOTS!