Monday, August 29, 2016

RELEASE BLITZ - Torn by Carian Cole @cariancole

Title: Torn
Series: Devils Wolves MC #1
Author: Carian Cole
Genre: MC Romance
 Release Date: August 29, 2016


He’s loved me since the day I was born.
He’s taken care of me.
He’s awakened me.

Tor. My father’s best friend.
Fifteen years older than me, he’s always been my protector. The one I should never, ever want.
But I was born to be his.

She’s always loved me.
She’s shattered me.
She’s healed me.
Kenzi. My best friend’s daughter.
I held her the day she was born, and I never let go.
She’s forbidden to me. But she’s the only one that really gets me.
We’re slowly being torn apart by everything we love.
Everything we want.
Everything we desire.

And now I want the one thing I can’t have... I want her.

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Free in Kindle Unlimited



Kenzi one day old
Toren fifteen years old

“We want you to be her Godfather,” Asher says as he gently lays his newborn baby into my arms. I have to tear my gaze away from her spellbinding eyes to look up at him from the chair I’m cradling the baby in.

“Me?” I repeat, glancing over at Ember in the hospital bed, who beams back at me with a tired, yet genuine smile.

“Yes, you,” they both say at the same time. “If it wasn’t for you, we probably never would have met,” Ember adds, grabbing Asher’s hand. “And we wouldn’t have this beautiful little baby. We know you’ll always protect her.”

“That’s right, man. You’re Uncle Tor now.”

I’m an uncle. And my two best friends are parents. And we’re all fuckin’ under sixteen.

But Kenzi Allyster Valentine would change us all forever. She needed us.

“Wow. I’m honored, guys. No doubt, I’ll always be here for her.”

I kick back the pang that hits my stomach. I didn’t get the girl…but I got something better that I never expected. A gift in the form of a little tiny hand wrapped tightly around my finger, huge eyes like gems staring up into mine like I was the most amazing person in the friggen’ world, and the first glimpse of what I could already tell was going to be a heart-stopping smile.

At that moment, a connection was born.

That was it.
She owned me.
My niece.
My god-daughter.
The love of my life.

Author Bio

I have a passion for the bad boys, those covered in tattoos, sexy smirks, ripped jeans, fast cars, motorcycles and of course, the sweet girls that try to tame them and win their hearts. My debut series, Ashes & Embers, follows the lives of rock band members as they find, and sometimes lose, the loves of their lives.

Born and raised a Jersey girl, I now reside in beautiful New Hampshire with my husband and our multitude of furry pets and spend most of my time writing, reading, and vacuuming.

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Release Blitz - Seal of Solomon by Golden Czermak

SOS Banner Seal of Solomon
Title: Seal of Solomon
Series: Journeyman Series #2
Author: Golden Czermak
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: August 29
Sequel to Homeward Bound (Journeyman #1)
The Adventure Continues...
From author Golden Czermak, comes the second installment of the enthralling Journeyman Series.

With no answers and a weapon of mass destruction slung around his neck, Gage Crosse is left with little choice but to travel with Joey Mosely to New York, seeking aid from the Order Council itself. Little do they know that they are about to embark on what may be the greatest adventure of their lives: to find the mysterious Seal of Solomon.

Meanwhile, the fragile threads holding the demon army and its monstrous allies together are unraveling. Keli must act quickly to maintain her position as ruler, else have all their efforts fall into the flames of ruin.

Can the Journeymen keep the Seal of Solomon out of demon hands, or will the Noctis succeed in wrenching all three artifacts from their control?

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The Series


About the Author
In the beginning, Golden worked the standard corporate rat race, completed college for a Chemical Engineering Degree, and began a small photography company on the side.
Since then, and the growth of the FuriousFotog brand, Golden became an internationally published modeling/fitness photographer and eventually began working as a book cover model.
Having been in the industry for at least four years, he has interfaced and networked with countless authors and other clients. As part of his work as a photographer, he worked with them to create book cover images - now numbering well over 250 at the beginning of 2016.
Learning the ins and out of the book world, along with being an avid reader and storyteller himself, Golden finally decided to write and publish his first book, Homeward Bound, in 2016. This paranormal adventure romance will span a total of six books and new ideas for other stories are in the works as well.

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Release Day Blitz - Is This Desire? by R. Paone @roccosaidhi

Is This Desire RDB Banner
Is This Desire cover
COVER DESIGN: Jay Aheer/Simply Defined Art
RELEASE DATE: 08.29.16
Is This Desire Full Cover
“Please don’t try to hold me in your arms."
“Is This Desire?” documents the continuing story of a flourishing love as it grows at an increasing speed. As Robert faces Mitch’s demons, Mitch himself must reclaim his independence and sanity if they are ever to be together.
The moment had passed, the passion burned out, and the high of a first love was left lingering.
How quickly can one fall in love?
How quickly can one fall out of love?
Devastated by the realization of Mitch’s misgivings, Robert has cast himself aside unable to process his current reality. Exposed to a love that was debilitating but also rewarding, he must now face the consequences of secrets, addiction, and desire if he is to continue forward with his heart while disregarding his doubts.
Now, it was happening again.
Sooner or later, Mitch reappears in Robert’s life unable to break away from what he feels deep within as he questions the connection between them both. It is a consuming bond that could break at any moment by the forces meaning to keep them apart no matter what.
What else was Mitch hiding from him and was an attempt at reintroducing those feelings again the safest bet against Robert’s sanity?
He said, "Never stop."
I said, "Never will."
Is This Desire Teas 2
“You have cornered me. Is that what you were going for?” “No,” he implored. “I don’t know what to make of this, dude. You are throwing me off, Mitch,” I explained with haste. “I’m not trying to.” “Then what, Mitch? This is getting a little exhausting between all of you. I’m not one to be playing games after the last go around. What do you want?” Part of me was beating the horse dead. Still, there was no reason I should be putting up with this. I knew the whole time I was standing here. There was an irrational part of me that wanted him to scoop me up in his arms. I wanted that for brief moments, and it sickened me. That was not the case this time. “I have missed you.” “Please, don’t.” “I love—“ The words slipped from him, and it was painful to hear once more. The first two words seared into the recesses of my heart. “Go fuck yourself, Mitch. How dare you? You are self-righteous. Do you realize how far this has gotten and how fucked up all of this has become? When will this end, huh? Will it ever? I don’t think it actually will.” There were no boundaries at this time, so it went farther than I expected it to when I first got here just thinking I was coming here to settle things with Deb. Now I was a hound of hell, and I didn’t think being taken advantage by anyone, whether it be Deb or Mitch himself was worth it. For a moment I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Was it Deb trying to escape the confinements of her room? Was it her trying to leave the apartment? Leaving me alone here with Mitch was something I wouldn’t put past her right now. I glanced over quickly and still saw light trickling out from all sides of the door to her room. Shadows moved around that light assuring me that she didn’t successfully escape her self-imprisonment. Mitch was rigid and unwavering; his hands shoved deep into his pockets. I could see the veins in this arm throb and pulse in quick succession. Although I had a pretty good idea at the time of this arranged meeting, I knew what I would say. Now I wasn’t too sure what else I could say to him to make him realize that there was nothing to gain out of this. I looked up and stared straight at him. Not just into his soul, but his vitality. I needed to see what he was feeling right now for me to understand his words and explanations of not letting this go. I was searching for some unspoken confession from him. To truly look into someone’s eyes that you once loved and not see the hope and happiness from before is frightening. It was the complete opposite, and that was daunting. I saw pain and the possibility of regret. The concept that regret was something that he created between us forced me even farther away from his embrace in the past. It was particular moments like these that, yes, my mind me to places.   Places of “only if’s” and the “might have been's.” What road should I have taken? What path was the right? What was down that particular road and was there anything worthwhile of a cause at the end of it? I felt no resolution or firmness. Only the inconclusiveness of the present. Each word from each our lips paved the way for a troubled path, something that had the possibility of being unfixed. The problem here was not only did I not know what to say once again but more forces were working against the cause in fixing it all. Certain individuals that were intimate friendships I had developed over the last several months. Friends that I thought I could trust. With each passing moment, there was more evidence contributing to this theory. It was proving hard for Deb to keep things separate like business and pleasure. I was afraid. Eventually, there would be no one else to turn to when I was in need. Who was I kidding, excluding Phil almost all the friends I had made since coming to Buffalo for graduate school were my coworkers at Cafe Virginia. The ones I was keeping compared to the ones I was losing was soon to be outweighed by the other. Maybe it was my actions that were slowly contributing to the slow death of my small group of acquaintances. I just might have cleared things up with Janet after speaking to her about the meaning behind the kiss between her and Mitch that evening. Lucy was on the sidelines and not involved and I was thankful for at least that. Now I was becoming unaware of what Deb was thinking and what she was capable of. Even though one would think her actions weren’t malicious, believing she thought it was smart to get involved in one’s personal matters without consulting was alarming. There was Mitch, untouched, stubborn, the statue in front of me. He was the incendiary of my thoughts that were seeking a straight path going forward. His lips parted. “I know that my actions have hurt a lot of people. People that I love dearly.” I said nothing. “I know you think I should probably just leave you alone for good.” I closed my eyes tightly and still said nothing. “I keep trying to deny what I have been feeling since day one. I have these feelings for you. I know that I am one stupid motherfucker and that I must be driving you crazy, kiddo. I cannot distinguish what exactly I am feeling now or what the difference is between right and wrong. Ignoring them isn’t helping me, either way, to come up with a solution to this mess.” I finally had to say something. “Is there anything to solve, though? Is there some huge decision that needs to be made? At this point, Mitch, I don’t think so.” His eyebrows both raised up at the same time. He really shouldn’t be surprised at my answers and how I am reacting towards his responses. “I think so,” he said. “I believe there is a lot that we both need to discuss. We haven’t spoken to each other since Deb’s party.” I continued. “That was the point, wasn’t it? You being in my presence wasn’t something I was looking forward to, Mitch. You kind of threw the wrench in that not thinking before you act.” “I understand your frustration, Robbie.” There it was again. Robbie, he was using that nickname of mine that made my heart hurt because all it kept doing was pushing me back again into a corner. There it was, deep inside wrapped up in empathy, my inability to feel contempt and hatred one hundred percent for this man. It was his words of my name falling from his lips which lead me to believe there was something more to be said. I had to remember it was those lips that lied and sent me running after being pulled in hypnotically. “Please, Mitch. My name is Robert. You don’t get to call me Robbie anymore,” I protested trying to make my way past him in the hallway. As I walked past him, there was only just a brief moment of contact between us. So subtle that I don’t think I would have noticed on any other day but today I was hyper aware of my surroundings especially his ubiquity. It was all too stimulating and being sensitive to his touch only more of that touch. His knuckles ended up grazing my hip bone as I attempted to move past him swiftly as possible. Again, there it was deep inside some part of me. The sudden gush forth of the past desire that was once there between us. Why was my subliminal self not letting go of things that once were? The masochistic tendencies of love would continue tormenting me like this. This love was tremendous, and sentiments were running high. I was thinking of running again. I had to get out of this apartment. I moved past Mitch quicker than I figured. Passing Deb’s closed bedroom, I expected that maybe she would have peeked out once she heard me moving around. Maybe she would have said goodbye to me now that she knew I was threatening to leave without resolution between her and I. Unfortunately I was wrong, the door remained closed, and there was nothing to make out beside the dead reticence behind the door. No common decency. The light still flickered, and I still couldn’t make out any of her movements. This occurrence was the potentiality in seeing the end of my friendship with Deb before my eyes. I had no idea even though all I knew was that I was going to have to see her at work eventually. There was no way I was going to quit working at Cafe Virginia. I needed the money. My hands made a direct line for the door knob as I made the effort to escape. Mitch’s presence only got closer. I could feel him inching closer up behind me. Just then I froze on the spot not being able to move, it was like the will to move was pulled out from underneath me. It was not until I felt his touch that everything went black. His hand slid up the back of my neck making every single hair on my body stood on its’ end. These emotions created the same sensation I would feel on a first date, the same butterflies filling my stomach. For a moment I wasn’t feeling the fear of collapsing but felt ready to let go completely in his presence. His hands moved over the arches of both of my shoulders back and forth in a massaging motion while squeezing them gently. I knew where this would end up going if I let this go on anymore. I spun around tearing his hands from me and faced him. This was the closest I had been to him since we last kissed at the party and I went back to that night mentally. I wasn’t thinking straight. I could just end up throwing myself willingly into his arms and lose myself. No, that was not possible and could end up being a very foolish thing I could do to myself. Not only would I end up hating the things I’ve done and feeling a sense of remorse but I would end up dealing with more consequences than before. That would have to be something I was willing to sacrifice. There was a lot of things at risk especially my free will when it came to listening to my heart versus my mind. He kept glaring over at me. I had to liberate from this point in time. I couldn’t think straight with him drilling blind into me. His breath and musk were intoxicating and stronger than ever after being deprived of it for some time. These were more than powerful suggestions as the raw attraction I had for him began to rise again. “I have to go,” I declared. This deep-seated hold Mitch had over me was washing over me, and it was hard to fight against it. I wanted to give up and just kiss this man as much as I was kicking and screaming against its’ dynamic hold. “You don’t have to.” His voice was pleading to me. “No, that is where you are wrong. I do have to go. I am sorry, Mitch.” I didn’t want to say goodbye because that would imply continuation, a future and that was something I wasn’t ready for. I needed some time to think away from Mitch's intoxicating presence. All I heard behind me was an exaggerated sigh as I shut the door behind me. Everything that just happened confirmed that this wasn’t over yet, and that frightened me. I had to be brave.  
R. Paone is the author of LGBT fiction, coming of age, and contemporary romance including the ongoing “ONLY IF…” Series. Writing is his passion as his stories stem from real life experiences and real moments of love. A writer for the last fifteen years, he started working on his first full length novel in June, 2014. That novel slowly transformed into “Love is Found,” Part One in the “ONLY IF…” Series. He currently resides in New York City. When he isn’t writing, you can find him getting lost in bookstores, a movie theater, or jamming out to music of the 90’s.

RELEASE BOOST - The Found by Cole McCade @thisblackmagic + Giveaway

Title: The Found
Series: Crow City #2
Author: Cole McCade
Genre: Dark Erotica/Contemporary Romance  
 Release Date: August 22, 2016


Witness to a murder. Kidnapped by a monster. Life hanging on a whim. Willow Armitage’s world was already falling apart; between getting fired and caring for her chronically ill father, she’s had little room for anything but survival. But that survival hangs in the balance the night she stumbles into a back alley – and watches a stranger die at the hands of the most beautiful man she’s ever seen.

Lethal. Powerful. Unstable. Terrifying. The contract killer known only as Priest is a dangerous unknown, and when Willow wakes tied to a chair in his hideout, the only thing she sees in his fox-gold eyes is death. Yet for Priest, Willow is a dilemma: an innocent, a saint among the sinners he cuts down in the streets of Crow City. His code of honor forbids shedding innocent blood. Releasing her will send her straight to the police. The only answer is a warped game, and his promise: that he will find the darkness inside her, expose it, and prove that deep down, everyone is just as monstrous as he…and just as worthy of death.

Yet he unearths not a monster, but a smoldering and secret desire – one that has always terrified Willow, and may be her undoing. His touch sets her alight. His strength burns through her like flame. And his control melts her each time he binds her virgin body, possesses her, teaches her the strength in weakness and the passion in submission. But that passion may be her damnation, and in the end Willow must choose: Priest’s love, or her own life.

When his every kiss is pure sin…can she resist damnation long enough for Priest to find his way to redemption?

TRIGGER WARNING 18+: This story contains content centered around non-consent, bodily autonomy, sexual assault, bodily functions, and violence. Please focus on self-care above all, and don't be afraid to put the book down if you need to in order to protect yourself. You come first, always.

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His fingers grazed the curve of her waist. With a gasp, she snapped her eyes open. He met her gaze, fox-gold turned hot as melting amber, fierce and animal and stripping her more bare than that exposed, naked flesh. She felt like a butterfly pinned to a board, held by his gaze, her limbs going slack and her struggles stopping against her will. She hardly felt it, when he hooked a fingertip under the bunched edge of her tank top—then ripped with such effortless strength, the threads of the side seam snapping apart one after the other, until there was nothing left of her tank top but rags of cloth. No, she hardly felt that…but she felt it when he teased those rags from underneath the ropes, as every scrap of cloth stroked and washed against her skin until she was nothing but a trembling tangle of sensitivity and frozen breaths building tighter and tighter in her chest.

And she felt it when that taunting, teasing fingertip hooked in her panties, slipping into the opening just above her thigh, and she realized just what he intended to do.

“Don’t touch me.”

Suddenly she could move again—and she writhed against the ropes, fighting to squirm away. But she had barely an inch of slack, nowhere to go but against the ropes, hanging in midair and so fucking helpless she would scream with sheer rage if she didn’t want to cry with sheer hopelessness. Was he enjoying this? Enjoying watching her struggle? Enjoying how her skin tightened and pulled and her nipples swelled and her breaths came shallow with every touch, her fucking disobedient body whispering dirty thing, dirty thing, give me more of that dirty thing while her mind and heart screamed no, no, not like that, never like that?

Was he enjoying having her at his mercy, unable to escape his every touch?

His fingers dug into the fabric of her panties. Clenched it against his fist. Pulled. Cloth creased, bit, burrowed into her dirty, dirty thing, her wet dirty thing, her pulsing dirty thing, and she was a fucking dirty thing when she arched off the seat and cried out and whimpered and mewled, as he dragged the cloth against her and all she felt was sweet-rough friction and that slickness, sickness, wet and running like a licking tongue.

“D-don’t,” she cried again, and yet he only pulled harder, the panties so much worse than the rope when every fold and crease molded to her flesh like liquid fire and left nothing untouched. “Don’t!”

He paused, held that steady pressure, keeping her on the end of a taut-stretched wire. “Are you a virgin, firefly?” he growled.

She spat in his face.

Panting, body heaving, she drew back and spat in his face, and watched with a sort of foggy, dazed satisfaction as it landed in a wet streak on his cheek, dripping down his bronzed skin like a tear. He remained unmoved, watching her steadily, waiting, holding her dangling from the one hand as if he hardly felt her weight and those damnable fingers pulling her panties against her flesh.

“My body is not your business,” she hissed.

“Right now, your body is my property.” He slid a fingertip down into the crease between her hip and thigh, the place where the seam of her panties normally cut in whenever she sat, moved, shifted; there was something too personal about that touch, so close and yet so far, a threat that made her shrink back even as that feeling inside her nearly exploded, that hollow feeling that seemed like a rapacious beast, a dragon with an open maw and empty gullet that was hungry, so hungry to be full. “I want an answer.”

He bunched her panties into his hand again, curling the fabric in stretched wrinkles against his palm—and this time when he pulled he gave no quarter, a single sharp rip and a sound of cloth tearing like tape pulling off the spool, high and shrill. There was a moment’s painful bite, a muted cry welling in her throat, and then the pressure eased as the tatters of her panties fell, forgotten, to the floor.

Still he watched her. And she, naked with nowhere to hide, curled into herself; she felt her nudity like a presence, like a thing touching her and twisting over her flesh to force her to feel every moment of her exposure, every moment of her vulnerability and helplessness. Priest said nothing. He didn’t need to. He never needed to. When he wanted an answer, he got one, and would wait her out as he had before, implacable and unmoving and relentless. She had always imagined men like him to be all force, all bluster, all violence and snarling and threats.

She was quickly learning that silence—silence and careful, metered application of just enough strength to drive his point home—was just as effective as force.

And just as frightening.

Dangling from his grip like a puppy, she hung her head. Anything not to meet those piercing eyes; anything not to feel the shame of giving in to the quiet demand in his gaze; anything to make this end, so he would stop tormenting her and leave her alone.

“…yes,” she mumbled. Still he didn’t speak, or put her down. Defeat sparked into frustration, and she glared at him from under the fall of her hair. “Yes, all right? Are you happy? Is that what you fucking wanted to know?”

“Yes,” he said simply, and lowered her to the floor.
Author Bio

Cole McCade is a New Orleans-born Southern boy without the Southern accent, currently residing somewhere in Seattle. He spends his days as a suit-and-tie corporate consultant and business writer, and his nights writing contemporary romance and erotica that flirt with the edge of taboo—when he’s not being tackled by two hyperactive cats.

He also writes genre-bending science fiction and fantasy tinged with a touch of horror and flavored by the influences of his multiethnic, multicultural, multilingual background as Xen Sanders. He wavers between calling himself bisexual and calling himself queer, but no matter what word he uses he’s a staunch advocate of LGBTQIA representation and visibility in genre fiction. And while he spends more time than is healthy hiding in his writing cave instead of hanging around social media, you can generally find him in these usual haunts:

He’s recently launched the Speak Project, an online open-access platform where anyone can anonymously or openly share or read stories of abuse – a way for survivors to overcome the silencing tactics of abusers to speak out against what was done to them, and let other survivors know they’re not alone.

He also runs an advice column called Dammit, Cole, where he occasionally answers questions about everything from romance and dating to the culture of hypermasculinity, from the perspective of a male romance author:

Looking for more? You can get early access to cover reveals, blurbs, contests, and other exclusives by joining the McCade’s Marauders street team at:

RELEASE BLITZ - Wide Open Spaces by Aurora Rose Reynolds @auroraroseR


“Zach Watters has made a lot of mistakes in his life. But when he sees Shelby Calder looking more beautiful than ever standing outside her childhood home, he promises himself that letting her go won't be a mistake he ever makes again.”

Wide Open Spaces by Aurora Rose Reynolds is LIVE!


**Additional Retailers to follow**

Full Blurb
That moment your life changes.
That moment that changes your life.
That moment you love someone more than you love yourself.
That was the moment we gave our son up for adoption and the moment I was left bare. A wide-open space that would forever be empty.
There are moments that define you as a person, moments that prove just how strong you are, moments you push yourself to keep going forward when all you really want to do is give up. It was in one of those moments when I reached out and found him waiting for me.

When Shelby Calder left home fifteen years ago, she never planned on returning to the Alaskan town she left behind. But after the death of her grandfather and a bitter divorce, she hopes going home will be a fresh start for her and her ten-year-old son.

Zach Watters has made a lot of mistakes in his life. But when he sees Shelby Calder, looking more beautiful than ever, standing outside her childhood home, he promises himself that letting her go won't be a mistake he ever makes again.

Some things never change and love is one of them.

About the Author:
aurora rose reynolds.jpg

Aurora Rose Reynolds is a navy brat who's husband served in the United States Navy. She has lived all over the country but now resides in New York City with her Husband and pet fish. She's married to an alpha male that loves her as much as the men in her books love their women. He gives her over the top inspiration everyday. In her free time she reads, writes and enjoys going to the movies with her husband and cookie. She also enjoys taking mini weekend vacations to nowhere, or spends time at home with friends and family. Last but not least she appreciates everyday and admires it's beauty.