Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Release Blitz Caged by Shay Savage


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Liam & Tria’s story continues in Trapped!
AVAILABLE NOW
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1MnJZdI
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Blurb
Bizarre rituals on a remote island in Maine.
My crazy neighbor lying naked in the produce section of a grocery store.
The sting of a knife as it slices through my flesh.
Now I know why they say life is never easy.
The soft touch of Tria’s hand against my chest is the only thing that keeps me going, but there are consequences. As a fighter, I should be able to deal with anything life throws at me, but there is one circumstance I simply can’t handle.
I only have one coping mechanism: a tube around my arm and a needle in my vein.
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Excerpt
I felt my body tighten at her touch, and my skin tingled as her fingers moved over my chest and down to my abs.  She took one finger and slid it over the ridge of each muscle.  I caught her under her chin with my fingers and brought her mouth back to mine.
Open mouthed, I moved from her lips, up the line of her jaw, to her ear, and back again.  With my free hand, I crept from her hip up her side, and my thumb stroked the skin of her stomach.  I felt her hand over mine.
I started to pull away, assuming her intent was to tell me to stop, but her grip on my fingers tightened.  Opening my eyes, I looked down at her and watched her tongue dart out over her lips before she slowly pushed my hand upwards.
“You sure?” I breathed, hating myself for even asking the question instead of jumping on the opportunity.  In response, Tria rose up just enough to pull her shirt up over her head.
My cock tried to jump right through the material of my jeans to tit fuck her right there in her bra.
I had to physically restrain myself from the action as she settled back above me on her knees.  The bra itself wasn’t unfamiliar—I’d seen all of her clothes in the drawers before—but having the lacy white material wrapped around her smooth breasts laid out before me was completely different.
I sat up and moved her with me until she was flat on her back on the couch, and I was hovering over her.  I moistened my lips as I gazed down at the pale flesh before me with only a slight curve visible at the top of the lacy front.
As slowly as I could endure, I traced her skin from the edge of the thin strap around her shoulder and down to the mound of flesh against the lace edge.  Barely touching her, I outlined from one edge over the curve, down into the slight dip, and back over again.  My fingertip completed the trek back up to her other shoulder, and then began to make its way down again.
Once it hit the center of the dip again, I fanned out my fingers—still keeping my touch ultra-light—and stroked slowly toward the outside of her breast.  I could feel my own breathing increasing in tempo with hers as I touched her through the thin material.  I mimicked the motion with my other hand and the other breast, leaning in to kiss her shoulder as I moved.



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CAGED Series Reading Order
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Takedown (Book One) Caged Series
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1HnHZ3T
Trapped (Book Two) Caged Series
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1MnJZdI
Released (Book Three) Caged Series
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1D2xeFY
About the Author:
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Shay Savage lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her family and a variety of household pets. She is an accomplished public speaker, and holds the rank of Distinguished Toastmaster from Toastmasters International. When not writing, she enjoys science fiction movies, masquerading as a zombie, is a HUGE Star Wars fan, and member of the 501st Legion of Stormtroopers. When the geek fun runs out, she also loves soccer in any and all forms - especially the Columbus Crew, Arsenal and Bayern Munich - and anxiously awaits the 2014 World Cup. Savage holds a degree in psychology, and she brings a lot of that knowledge into the characters within her stories.
Stalk Shay Here: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads


THANK YOU!
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Sale Blitz H.I.S. series by Sheila Kell

20150704 Aug 1-7 sale promo ad 2

H.I.S. series 99¢/99p SALE 

Aug 1-7, 2015

99¢/99p sale price for books in the H.I.S. series by Sheila Kell

Meet the hot-bodied men of Hamilton Investigation and Security, Inc. (H.I.S.) who will do whatever it takes to achieve their clients’ goals, especially when it involves family and the women who steal their hearts. ♡ HIS Desire (H.I.S. Novel #1 – stand-alone)

Can he save her when his heart and his past have put them in jeopardy?

H.I.S. leader, Jesse Hamilton, fights to keep FBI Special Agent alive from a villain threatening to kill her to get back at him.

★★★★★ "This is my first book by Sheila Kell, but it will not be my last. I was engaged from the very beginning. I can't wait to download the next book in this series." Review on Amazon.com

Purchase link (most countries) 

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7 - HIS Desire teaser-You belong here

♡ HIS Choice (H.I.S. Novel #2 – stand-alone) Will the choice he makes mean certain death to the woman he promised to protect?

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Wayward baby brother, AJ Hamilton, as a hit-man for a crime lord, is sent to threaten investigative reporter Megan Rogers, but finds himself attempting to save her instead.

★★★★★"I will give it 5 stars as there isn't any more to give." Review on Amazon.com

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Release Day Blitz Marked by Charisse Spiers


Welcome to my fucking world. My name is Kaston Cox and I’m a criminal’s worst nightmare. Most people run from darkness, but I live in it, require it, and thrive in the night. Some call me a monster, some a lover of evil, and others, the devil himself, but they’re all wrong. I’m just a shadow in the dark. I speak for the innocent when no one else will. Once I have marked you, you better beg for forgiveness, because your time has run out…

Revenge is the ultimate wage for evil. Some just can’t stomach to do it themselves. That’s where I come in. I am the ultimate judge when called upon for justice. I will decide who lives and who dies. Blood may be on my hands, but it’s not the blood of the innocent. Remorse is nowhere to be found. I don’t give a shit if you understand. I can live with the man I look at every day in the mirror. My soul was tainted the day I was conceived. You think you know me? You have no fucking idea. I am who I am because of what they did to her, and to him. They were my family. This was the only form of restitution he believed in. I owed him everything. I took over the empire he built. This is how I repay him. There was only one rule: never allow emotions to form. Numb and heartless are the only two ways to live.

What I never included in the plan…was her.

My name is Lux Larsen. My life is as perfect as it can get. I’m a partier, a seductress when it comes to something that I want, and the ultimate sexual con artist. I use my body to get what I want and I’m not ashamed. Designer tags are what I’m after. I love sex. I’m good at it. Fuck double standards. Guys can do it, well guess what, so can I. I will never be caught back on the other side of the tracks for as long as I live. I left that hellhole years ago. I’ll do anything to stay away. You can call me a whore if you want, but I just look at it as I’ve decided to become a player in a man’s game, and I’m a fucking pro at it. Love is for the weak minded. Weak is something I’ll never be.

I never anticipated the predator that would find me. I’m now his prey…but I’m not sure I can run.

The world likes to think that love is only pure, only for those that do good, but what no one considers is when bad has to be done to formulate a different type of good. Two of the most random people can be a perfect match, being placed together like pieces to a puzzle. Being in the wrong place at the right time can be terrifying and it can also be exactly what is supposed to happen, because sometimes…love is born in the dark.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22880309-marked

       "Here. Good play. I can't say with that view it was the worse time I've ever lost money." He turns and walks away as they announce last call over the speakers.

       "Does that mean I get half? I'd say I earned it."

 I look at Makayla as she turns toward me and hangs her legs over the side. "You think so?"

       "I didn't see you pulling your dick out as bait. My pussy was the one on display so you could win."

       I move in front of her and grab her chin, closing in toward her. She starts to close her eyes until I speak. "Let's get one thing straight, baby. I would have won whether your pussy was present or not, but since you helped by sending him to the bathroom to take care of the hard-on you just created, I'll repay you in orgasms here in a few minutes. How does that sound?"

       She grabs a handful of my shirt in her fist, pulling me closer. "Damn, just take me already. I've never been so turned on in my life." She presses her lips to mine and the alcohol takes over, directing all of my muscle movement. I grab her hips and pull her toward me as I roughly kiss her back. She instantly wraps her legs around my waist. I grind her against my now hardening cock.  She grabs the waistband of my pants, no longer concerned with where we are.

       "Starting without me?"

       I release her lips and look at Danyel standing next to the pool table. It's just now that I realize the bar is completely empty. "Where is the rest of staff?"

       "I sent them home and locked the doors. Since I'm the manager I can do that. No one ever complains when being sent home early at closing. No work for them and a good time for me after a long night. It's a win/ win situation."

       Makayla groans out, clearly frustrated and not wanting to share. I nod for Danyel to come closer and look at Makayla, locking my eyes with hers. "I'm your partner. You trust me in the field, right?" She nods, her eyes flitting from my eyes to my mouth and back again. "Trust me now. Be open-minded. Just because you try something new doesn't mean you have a label. We're all straight. Danyel probably likes dick more than you do. Got me?"

       She breathes deeply, clearly nervous, but nods lightly. "Yeah, okay. I'll try...for you." I'm going to pretend I didn't hear longing in her voice and hope like hell I don't regret this at work Monday.

       I reach out and hook my index finger over Danyel's waistband, pulling her closer. I kiss her, starting things slow. She slides her tongue inside my mouth, allowing each of our taste’s to mix, creating one of its own. I stop and turn to Makayla, doing the same. She moans into my mouth before I release her lips. "See. You taste her. You taste me. It's no different." I continue to look at her. "Danyel. Come show her how gentle you can be. I want to watch."

       I step back, allowing Danyel to take my place. I can see the disappointment written all over her face, but she remains silent. Danyel touches her knee and skims her fingertips up Makayla's thigh, tracing the side of her body until her hand is on the side of Makayla's neck. "Relax, Makayla, and I'll reward you later." Her shoulders immediately drop.

       Danyel lowers her face and kisses Makayla, slowly at first, but then you can tell the moment Danyel slides her tongue between Makayla's lips, because she completely lets go, and places her hands in Danyel's auburn hair, wanting more. My dick presses against my pants, wanting free, as I watch two beautiful women experiencing each other for the first time. The room is hazed from the alcohol, but that's exactly where I need to be.

       I walk up to Danyel's backside, pressing my front against her. I press my lips next to her ear as they continue to kiss. "Do to her as I do to you. Are we clear?"
     

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I found books when I was going through a hard time in life. They became my means of escape when things got bad. I realized quickly how much I loved to take a backseat to someone else's life and watch the journey unfold. That began my journey with books in November of 2012. I constantly had a book open on my Kindle app. Never in a million years would I have imagined myself as a writer, because I never thought I was creative enough. I'm living proof that things will fall into place when they're meant to be. People will make their way into our lives when we don't expect it, setting the path for what we are meant to do. Never give up on people. Never stop taking a chance on others. Someone took a chance on trusting me with her work when she didn't know me from a stranger on the street and gave me the opportunity of a lifetime as our relationship progressed, which led me to editing and writing as well. This is my dream I never knew I had. As soon as I sat down and gave writing a shot, it was like the floodgates opened. Now, I am lost in a world of fiction in my head, new characters constantly screaming for their stories to be told. Continue to dream and to go for them. No one ever found happiness by sitting on the sidelines. Sometimes we have to take risks and put ourselves out there. Thank you for all of your support, and may there be many books to come.
XOXO- C

 
TSU 


 
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Release Boost Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set by Micalea Smeltzer




Title: Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set
Series: Trace + Olivia #1-4
Author: Micalea Smeltzer
Genre: New Adult
 Release Date: July 30, 2015



Blurb

Finding Olivia: How far would you go to find yourself? That’s the question that’s been haunting Olivia Owens for years.

Chasing Olivia: How far would you go to reignite the spark you once had? Two years later, Trace and Olivia are as much in love as they’ve always been. But the spark they once had for life is waning and Trace is determined that they find it again. His solution? A road trip. But he doesn’t tell Olivia the real reason they’re heading north.

Tempting Rowan: I’m drowning in the numbness. It’s pulling me under and I can’t see the surface. It’s easier to pretend I can’t feel. And the longer you pretend, the easier it is to believe. But he wants to save me. Only he can’t. I have to save myself…and I don’t know if I want to.

Saving Tatum: Even tough girls need saving. Jude Brooks is bad news. He’s the kind of guy that leaves behind a string of broken hearts and Tatum O’Connor is not about to be one of those girls, despite all of Jude’s advances. They have a past, and Tatum’s determined to make sure they don’t have a future.









Links to Buy

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Excerpt

“No, no, no, no!” I beat my steering wheel with the heel of my hand. “No! You’ve got to be kidding me!” I pulled off the road, my tire bumping along.
I put my car in park and climbed out to assess the damage.
My feet crunched on the gravel scattered alongside the road.
Immediately, the oily burnt smell of my peeling tire met me.
Calling this a flat tire didn’t do it justice. This was complete and utter carnage.
I looked behind me, at the trail of tire pieces leading straight to my car, like a path of breadcrumbs.
It was starting to get dark and this wasn’t exactly the safest road.
I was also a twenty-year-old girl, ripe for the picking.
I kicked the side of my car. “I don’t have time for this!”
I stalked around the back, to the trunk, lifting it and looking for the necessary tools to change a tire.
Which was pointless because, unfortunately, I didn’t know the first thing about changing a tire. My father had made sure that I only knew how to do a woman’s work.
I slammed the trunk closed and stalked back to the driver’s side, pulling at the ends of my hair. I glared at the offending nail, that had to be four inches long, sticking out of the tire. How many nails did people drive over a day and I was the one to get a flat freakin’ tire?
Not cool.
Not at all.
I opened the door and reached for my phone to call my roommate to come pick me up.
The sky was darkening and I didn’t want to be stranded here.
I wrapped my lightweight jacket tighter around my body, as the wind gusted around me, blowing leaves off of the nearby trees. I watched the red, yellow, and orange leaves fall down and scatter over my car. One, unfortunately, got caught in my hair. I reached up and pulled it out before letting it drift to the ground.
Gravel crunched behind me. I turned quickly, to see a guy getting out of a black car that looked like something old, but classic.
I hadn’t even heard him pullover.
I backed a step away, thinking he might be a murderer, or a rapist.
But when I got a look at his face I was stunned.
He was tall, with a lean body, but muscular. He had short, dark brown, almost black, hair and the greenest eyes I had ever seen. Five o’ clock shadow covered his cheeks and chin. My eyes trailed down, over the white t-shirt glued to his chest, and stopped there. I could see black ink underneath the white shirt and licked my lips. The fact that he had tattoos only made him hotter. To protect against the cold, he was wearing a long-sleeved plaid shirt.
“Uh—can I help you?” He asked, smiling pleasantly at me, and putting my earlier fears about him being a murderer or rapist completely to rest.
Help? With what? I needed help?
“Huh?”
He grinned crookedly, tilting his head. “With your tire. Do you need some help?”
He had the deepest, huskiest, voice I had ever heard. I shivered at the sound. I was pretty sure I’d be happy for him to help me with a lot of things, and none of them included my tire.
“Help would be great,” I blushed, ducking my head.
He chuckled. “You do have a spare, right?”
“Yeah, it’s in the trunk,” I pointed, like he didn’t know where the trunk was.
He grabbed the spare, and all the necessary tools and sat down, next to the ruined tire.
“I—uh—would’ve changed it myself, but—uh—my dad never taught me,” I ran my fingers nervously through my wavy brown hair. “He said something about it not being appropriate for a girl to do and if I ever got a flat tire, I better hope Prince Charming came along. My dad’s very—uh—old fashioned,” I stammered.
He looked up at me. “Does that make me Prince Charming?” He grinned.
“Oh—uhm—Prince Charming is fictional, so I guess not, and he-uh-usually rides a white horse or something… I think.”
Somebody, stamp AWKWARD across my forehead already.
The guy threw his head back and laughed. “I guess a shiny black '69 Camaro doesn’t count as a white horse. You watch a lot of Disney movies or something?”
“No,” I blushed tomato red. “At least not anymore.”
“You’re funny,” he squinted up at me, shielding his eyes from the orange glow of the setting sun.
“I hope that’s a good thing,” I muttered. Unfortunately, I wasn’t trying to be funny.
“It’s a very good thing-” He paused, waiting for my name.
“Oh—uh—Olivia. Olivia Owens.”
“I’m Trace,” he reached a hand up to me and I took it. It was warm and calloused, swallowing mine whole. “Trace Wentworth,” he grinned when my hand jerked at his touch.







Author Bio


Micalea Smeltzer is a bestselling Young and New Adult author from Winchester, Virginia. She’s always working on her next book, and when she has spare time she loves to read and spend time with her family.




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Release Blitz Reckless Surrender by R.C. Martin




Title: Reckless Surrender
Series: Made For Love #2
Author: R.C. Martin
Genre: New Adult Romance
 Release Date: August 4, 2015



Blurb

[Reckless Surrender is book two in the Made for Love series but can be read as a STAND ALONE novel. Written for audiences 18+ years of age.]
 
Three and a half years ago, Daphne walked into my shop, kicked open the door to my soul, invited herself inside, and got comfortable. By the time I realized she’d made herself at home, it was too late to kick her out. Now, I’m in love with her. But I’m not her boyfriend. She’s not my lover. We’re just friends…

Trevor’s it for me. I love him so much it drives me crazy. But we’re broken—two battered people whose souls have been ravaged by the world. We decided a long time ago that we wanted to love each other but not attempt to fix one another. Instead, we give each other as much as we can. I’m beginning to wonder if that’s ever going to be enough…

I don’t want to be her bandaid.

I don’t want to be his addiction.

But if we never cross that line, will I lose her?

If I don’t tell him what I want, will I lose myself?







Purchase Links

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Excerpt

I twist my bangs back away from my face and pin them in place before washing off today’s makeup. I feel completely plain without it, but it’s also refreshing to be rinsed clean and I know present company doesn’t mind. Speaking of which, I’m glad I get to keep him for the night. I love it when that happens. We don’t exactly make a habit of it, but I always sleep better cocooned in his arms. It makes me feel like I’m his. I guess in some ways I am, even though I’m not. I certainly don’t belong to anyone else. I can’t imagine ever being with anyone else—even if being with Trevor without actually being with Trevor one day breaks my heart.
 
I shake the thought away, aware that I’m starting to think too much. He’s here, now, and that’s what he can give me. Besides that, it’s more than anyone else gets. This is how it is between us. It works.
 
I stop just inside the doorway of my bedroom, caught off guard by what awaits. Or should I say, who? I have to stifle a small gasp at the sight of him—not because I’m startled by his change in appearance, but because he leaves me breathless. He’s so damn mesmerizing I can’t help but stare. Every. Time.
 
At this point, I think it’s safe to assume I’ll never get used to the masterpiece that he is, and that’s more than fine.
 
It’s quite apparent that he has endured the confines of his dress attire for as long as he can stand it. I can’t mourn the lost image of him all spruced up, not when I have the image of him all stripped down to admire. All he has on is a pair of gym shorts. He keeps a pair stowed away in my dresser for nights like these. He’s sitting at the window, which he has opened, with one leg straddling the bench and the other bent in front of him so that he might rest his beer atop his knee.
 
Trevor isn’t built like an athlete. He isn’t bulky with muscle. He isn’t lanky, like me, either. He’s made up of lean, toned lines that whisper of the physical power that makes him all man. But his inner strength? All the vulnerable and fragile pieces of him that make him so strong, the pieces of him that I love so much, that’s what catches my eye.
 
He wears his heart on his sleeve. Literally. The world might not know it, but I do. I know that every inch of ink that covers his beautiful skin tells his story. The tattoo on his left arm stretches from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder and spills over his heart. I can’t see it now, because of the way he’s sitting, but I know he’s got script tattooed down his left side across his ribs. Finally, his right arm is adorned in a half sleeve. I say finally not as a way to express finality, but simply the end of his list for now. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn that he’s dreaming of more.
 
“Daph! Your beer’s getting warm!” he yells, his gaze still directed out the window.
 
I grin, partly because I love how he knows I hate it when my beer gets even the slightest bit warm; partly because he hasn’t noticed me standing here staring at him. “I’m right here,” I say as I continue to make my way into the room. I speak softly, but I startle him just the same.
 
“Shit, Wings—” he mutters, spitting out his nickname for me as he jumps. He has to snatch up his beer as his leg shoots out in front of him. I laugh and grab my half empty bottle from off of the edge of the bookshelf where he’s lined up our reserve. “How long were you standing there?”
 
“Not long,” I lie. I sit opposite of him, bending my knees and propping my feet up.
 
“Sure,” he murmurs, shaking his head at me in disbelief. I smirk in response.
 
Now this is one of those moments where, if we were in a movie or a romance novel, he’d crawl across the bench and kiss me. But this isn’t a fairy tale and he won’t kiss me because I won’t let him. We can’t go there. What he and I share, it works because we don’t go there. As crazy as it might sound, our restraint excites me. Simply knowing that he feels it, too, makes this moment more intimate than not.
 
He brings his beer up to his lips and tilts his head back as he empties the remaining contents into his mouth. As he sucks out every last drop, he watches me watch him and I get lost in his oval eyes. His irises are in a glorious state of confusion, unsure of whether or not they are blue or green. His hair struggles with the same color dilemma, his dark blonde locks sometimes appearing light brown, depending on how the light hits them.
 
For just a second, I imagine running my fingers through his soft, loose, curls. Or, at least, I consider them curls; or they would be—big, beautiful, silky curls—if he grew his hair out longer. I know he won’t. He likes to keep his slightly shaggy, fuck-me-now mane just long enough to entice you to do just that. Except, we won’t be doing that, either.
 
His gaze is still locked with mine. He’s teasing me. I know it. He knows it—but this is our game. I can’t look away first. If I do, he’s won. So instead, I bring my beer to my lips, tilt my head back, and drink, all the while watching him watch me.

When we’re both finished, he stands and takes my empty bottle before leaning down to kiss my neck, just below my ear. “You win, Wings,” he murmurs. I grin, feeling victorious. “But you left the bottle opener in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” He kisses me once more as a reward and then turns to leave.






Author Bio

R.C. Martin finds it a bit awkward referring to herself in the third person, so she's only going to do it for this one sentence. (We all know who's writing this bio anyway!)

I'm a born and bred Coloradan. I will always claim that square state as my home! While I now reside in Virginia, the land of the Rocky Mountains is where I've left a piece of my heart and where my characters come to life. I'm a woman in love with love and filled to the brim with compassion for women like me, on a journey to find themselves in today's society. I aspire to inspire my readers to do more than settle. I hope that my writing will remind everyone that she (or he!) is valuable and worthy of the best kind of love--the kind that is gentle, patient, faithful, passionate, all consuming, never ending, and leaves you breathless.

When I'm not writing I'm reading; when I'm not reading I'm writing...you know how it goes! I also enjoy cooking, baking, crocheting, and jigsaw puzzles. Basically, I'm an old soul with a young heart, nonchalantly waiting for my prince to come.



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