Book Tour: Reaper’s Fall By Joanna Wylde

The New York Timesbestselling author of Reaper’s Standis back in her “uber-alpha rough world of MCs”* as one woman’s future is rocked by the man whose hardcore past could destroy her…

He never meant to hurt her.
Levi “Painter” Brooks was nothing before he joined the Reapers motorcycle club. The day he patched in, they became his brothers and his life. All they asked in return was a strong arm and unconditional loyalty—a loyalty that’s tested when he’s caught and sentenced to prison for a crime committed on their behalf.
Melanie Tucker may have had a rough start, but along the way she’s learned to fight for her future. She’s escaped from hell and started a new life, yet every night she dreams of a biker whose touch she can’t forget. It all started out so innocently—just a series of letters to a lonely man in prison. Friendly. Harmless. Safe.
Now Painter Brooks is coming home… and Melanie’s about to learn that there’s no room for innocence in the Reapers MC.

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“You want to watch a movie or something?” she asked, nodding toward the TV. I had a decent one, too. Giant-ass flat-screen—homecoming present from the club.
“Sure,” I said, reaching for the remote. I didn’t have cable, but Ruger had set up some kind of box thingie for me so I could stream shit. “Whatcha in the mood for?”
“Not horror,” she said quickly, and I laughed again, remembering that first evening I’d spent with her at Pic’s house. She’d been so young and scared and vulnerable . . . I’d wanted to eat her up.
I still wanted to eat her.
“I can’t believe that you and Puck were supposed to be watching over me, and then you put in a slasher movie. That’s not how you make a girl feel safe.”
“No horror,” I agreed, although the thought of holding her for a couple hours while she was scared shitless appealed way more than it should. Watch it, asshole. “How about Star Wars?”
“You like Star Wars?”
I shrugged. “Everyone likes Star Wars. You know, I’m pretty damned sure Han Solo was a biker.”
She giggled. “You mean, like a space biker?”
“See, when you say it like that it sounds stupid.”
“I wanted to be Princess Leia. She’s badass,” she said, taking a deep drink of her beer. I watched as her lips wrapped around the neck, her throat swallowing. Oh fuck, that was good. She set the beer down on the coffee table with a clink, then let loose with the biggest burp I’d ever heard.
“Fucking hell,” I said, stunned. “I didn’t think girls could burp like that. Shit. Impressive, Mel. Very impressive.”
She grinned at me.
“We’re friends,” she told me. “And friends don’t need to worry about stuff like that. Let me guess—you’ve never had a female friend before?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “I’m think I’m a little scared.”
Scared and turned on, which was weird.
“You should be. I can do the whole alphabet.”
Damn. I kinda wanted to see that.


Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | TwitterGoodreads



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Book Tour: Until Jax By Aurora Rose Reynolds

Ellie Anthony isn’t looking for love. She isn’t even looking for a man, but when Jax Mayson insists on keeping her and her daughter safe, she’s left with no choice but to trust him. Now she just hopes she doesn’t get hurt when she falls hard for a guy who’s known for breaking hearts.
Jax Mayson knows that Ellie is his BOOM the moment he sees her. When he finds out she has a daughter, he realizes he wants a family, and he will do whatever is necessary to keep both of his girls safe, even if that means facing the demons from his past.
O.M.G.! I absolutely LOVED Until Jax!  I love the Boom!  If you don’t know what this is, first of all are you living in a cave?  Okay if you don’t know what the Boom! is read the Until series then read Until Jax because you will understand why I love it so much. 
Until Jax is everything that we have come to love from any of the Until series books.  Sexy alpha males, sassy females, drama, action, sex, oh baby the sex, love, humor and oh so much more.  With every book that Ms. Reynolds writes about this family I love them more and more.  I am not even going to lie, I screamed like I just won the lottery when I saw the arc hit my kindle.  What can I say, I was just a tad bit excited. 
Jax.  I need Jax in my life.  He is sweet, protective, funny, sexy, loving, basically everything an alpha male should be.  When he first meets Ellie in Until July, he knows that she is his Boom.  The men just know and once they know there is no stopping them from winning over the other parts of their heart and soul.  I love how he immediately was not just protective of Ellie but of her daughter as well.  That right there is what a true man is.  He opens his heart and life even to children who may not be his but will be soon.  I do feel for him, when something happens, something that had me tearing up, it will make you want to make things right with people in your life that you may not be getting along with.
Ellie is sweet and from the start I loved her character.  She has her own secrets but once she feels that she can trust Jax she opens up to him and allows him into her heart and her daughter’s.  She was the perfect Boom for Jax.  Even with everything she had been through she stayed strong when most would crack like a broken egg. 
I honestly cannot get enough from this author or these Until series.  I am anxiously awaiting the next book.  I love how this series shows that love can happen at first site, may it be a Boom or fate, that when you find that other part of your heart that you should never give up until they are yours.

“Thank you again for taking me.” Pulling my eyes from the road for a brief moment, I look at Ellie. Her head is resting against the window, her legs pulled up onto the seat, tucked near her ass, and her arms are wrapped tight around them. One thing I’ve noticed about her over the last few hours is she’s always wrapping her arms around herself or tucking her body into a tight ball. It’s like she’s forcing herself to stay together.
“I told you I got you, baby,” I say gently, wanting more than anything to take her hand in mine, but every time I touch her, she freezes up like she’s waiting for me to strike out at her, and I would be lying if I said that didn’t piss me the fuck off. It does; it feels like a slap in the face every time it happens.
“I know,” she whispers, and the tears I hear in her voice cause a sharp pain in my chest.
Fuck.
“This is the turnoff.” Her feet go to the floorboard and her hands to the dash as she sits up taller, moving her face closer to the windshield. We drive up a long dirt driveway with forest and the occasional broken down car on each side. When we make it to the top of the hill, a singlewide trailer comes into view, with junk cars and garbage piled up out front.
As soon as I come to a stop, she opens her door and hops out before I can tell her to keep her little ass in the cab. I don’t even know how I’m going to deal with the range of emotions that have settled over me since seeing her for the first time.
“Fucking Boom,” I mutter, getting out behind her and doubling my steps until I’m able to reach her side, where I wrap my hand around her waist and pull her closer to me. She’s so fucking tiny that the top of her dark head sits right at my chest. So fragile, from her too soft skin to her petite size. And she’s mine.

 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.

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Book Tour: Last Hope By Jessica Clare & Jen Frederick

Mendoza: I grew up in the slums and lost everything I loved to poverty, illness, and death. I had only one skill to leverage myself out of my circumstances—violence. Being hired out as a mercenary hitman brought me money and built an empire. But all that I’ve fought for is in jeopardy. My next job: Steal secret information that could bring down world governments. Find my target. Destroy it. But then, I meet her.


 Ava: Karma hates me. When my best friend Rose is kidnapped, I have no choice but to take a job as a mule for a pair of criminals intent on selling top-secret information to the highest bidder. I should have known that bad luck tends to cling, because the plane I’m on goes down. That I survived a crash-landing was a miracle. And so was being rescued by Rafe Mendoza—hot, sexy, dangerous. The thing is, he wants the information that I need to free Rose. I can’t let him have it, but I need his help. And I need to fight this crazy attraction for this mercenary with hungry eyes. Rose is depending on me, and I won’t let her down, no matter how appealing Rafe is.

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Jpkd7x




The ricochet of the bullet has swollen my eye shut. I might be slightly concussed from the free fall from six thousand feet into the jungle. I’ve no clue where we are and we have no supplies, but I’ve never been happier than when Ava stuck her tits into my face. Those babies felt like the softest pillows ever created and I would’ve been happy to suffocate in damp valley of cleavage. Maybe I’d even get the chance to lick her sweat away.
I might have groaned and pretended my injury was worse to lengthen the moment. Her delicate hands smoothed over my forehead and, it may have been my imagination, but it seemed liked she might’ve lingered over my hair. Dig in, I want to grunt.
“What the heck is that sound?” Ava clutches me to her.
If I don’t answer, does that mean I can stay in this position forever? Because I want to. Actually, no, I’d like to move over and suck one fat tit into my mouth until it’s hard as a diamond. Then I’d like to slide down until my mouth is level with her pussy and see how salty sweet she tastes between her legs. The beast between my legs roars to life and it’s a good thing that the monkeys above us scream again, causing her to jump and strike my good eye with her elbow. The pain serves as a reminder of where we are, who I am, and what the fuck I should be paying attention to.
“It’s the howler monkey. They sound like humans screaming or sometimes like the jaguar. They’re kind of dumb and if we found Afonso’s gun, we’d be able to kill one and have meat every night for a week.”
She shudders. “I don’t want to eat monkey.”
The jungle is hot and wet during the day and cold at night. If the mosquitos don’t eat you alive, the jaguars and anacondas might. Not very many people can crash-land into the middle of the Amazon and make it out alive, but I’m upping our odds from around 20 percent to 50 percent based on Ava’s positive attitude. Unless my eye heals up, I’m not giving us more than that. If we could find the Boy Scout bag, though, we could bring our odds up significantly.
“There’s plenty of food in the Amazon from plantains to fish, so if you don’t like monkey, we won’t eat it.”
She shudders again. “Thank you.”
“You a vegetarian?”
No, that couldn’t be right. Didn’t she eat some prosciutto at the café? But I want to hear it from her. I want to know everything about her.
“No, but for some reason eating something that screams like a human freaks me out.”
“Monkey is off the menu,” I say, making no attempt to move away from her rack. “I have a knife in my belt.”
“Do you have anything else besides the knife?” she asks. Her tone is accusatory like I’m holding out on her.
“No,” I say slowly. “Just the knife.”
She narrows her eyes and then reaches out with her good hand and pokes my waistline. “What about that?”
“My pants? I don’t think that they’d fit you or they’d be a good weapon. Besides, I’d rather my legs didn’t get eaten by mosquitos.”
“Look, if you just plan on leaving me behind, then do it now. Don’t string me along.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Just my luck to perv on a crazy woman.
“That!” she spits out, and this time her finger jabs lower, right into the meat of my dick. I flinch back. “I can tell you’re packing something. What’s that thing in your pocket?”
“None of your fucking business,” I growl out, my happy feeling sucked away. I can feel the heat rising in my face that has nothing to do with the humidity. I will my erection to subside but as she stares at it, it does nothing but grow.
“Oh my god. Is that a . . . that’s not a gun, is it?” Her lips part in shock.
“No.” The erection isn’t going to go down anytime soon. Not with her eyes wide with wonder. She raises her gaze to me and then drops back down again, and hell if she doesn’t lick her fucking lips. I turn away, unzip, and then pull the shaft straight up behind the waistband of my cargo pants. I fasten the zipper, carefully, and then pull my T-shirt down over the top. It hides most of the problem. “Let’s go.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.
I surge to my feet, catching her off guard. She stumbles back and thankfully stops staring at my junk. “Enough,” I growl more roughly than I intend. “We have important things to concentrate on, like where are we going to sleep for the night.”
She looks stricken and nods in agreement. “Sorry, I just was taken by surprise. You don’t have to tell me what’s in your pocket if you don’t want to. But I need to remind you that we’re in this together.”
I feel like an ass. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry that she thinks my dick is fake. That’s a new one. 


 Hitman Series Reading Order

Last Hit (bk 1)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1IUePI1

Last Breath (bk 2)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/15ab84J


Last Hit: Reloaded (bk 2.5)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Gdj5GH

Last Kiss (bk 3)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1yvLD9e

Last Hope (bk 4)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Jpkd7x

Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one rambunctious dog.  She’s been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at jensfrederick@gmail.com.

Author Jessica Claire
This is a pen name for Jill Myles.
Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood. She reads all the ‘naughty parts’ of books first, looks for a dirty joke in just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the Prairie books should have been steamier.
After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own – stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations. She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed together.


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Book Tour: The Voice Between My Legs By: Ozlo & Priya

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I’ve done things you might not agree with. You may not like me because of it. But if you lived through what I experienced, maybe you’d see things differently. I wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of my new life…then I met him.

Cooper West is attractive, wealthy, and CEO of one of hottest companies in New York City. He can have any girl he wants… he chose me. I have to tell him about the things I’ve done…but how?
What would happen if you let the man of your dreams read your diary? Would he still want to be with you? I’m about to find out.
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Ozlo and Priya Grey are a husband and wife writing team. Their time is consumed with writing, re-writing, editing, and tinkering with Photoshop and WordPress.
When they step away from their desks, they enjoy long walks on the beaches of Southern California.
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Book Tour: A Taste Of Summer By Beverly Preston

Most people know Hollywood heartthrob, Ryan Summer, as Ryan, no last name required. But once upon a time, he was just Summer to Carrie Ann—before a decade of blockbuster hits skyrocketed his success into superstardom.

Summer was smart, gorgeous, and cocky as hell. Nothing was out of his reach. Not even Carrie Ann Lowell. He was the love of her life—until he shattered her heart. Their breakup left more than a profound rift in her soul. It crushed her.

When Carrie Ann’s college flame forces his way back into her life, his dirty-talking, bold self-assurance re-ignites a passion she thought had long since been extinguished. Carrie Ann didn’t believe in second chances.

Not even for him.

No matter how deliciously tempting.

With sparks flying and hidden truths unraveling, will Carrie Anne be able to deny her desires to save herself from another heart break?

I first ran across this author a couple of years ago when I was watching a YouTube video with some beautiful book quotes from some of our favorite books.  If I didn’t know the book I looked it up on the list given by the video creator.  I immediately liked the book that I read and decided that this was going to be an author I was going to watch for.  Sadly like most things, I got busy with other reviews, life, and just living so I lost track of not just the author, Beverly Preston, but also the series I was so looking forward to reading.  When I signed up to review A Taste Of Summer I had planned on reading the books I missed but ran out of time.  Luckily I didn’t need to read the rest of the series and I never felt lost, what I felt was the reminder of why I enjoyed Ms. Preston’s writing so much the first time I had read any of her work.

A Taste Of Summer, in my opinion is the perfect summertime read.  Yeah I went there, deal with it lol.  But seriously, second chance romances are one of my favorite to read; there is just something about two previous loves having a second chance at happiness with each other that just does something for me.  What can I say deep down I am a romantic at heart and believe in soul mates; and despite what other’s may think just because a couple may be soul mates it doesn’t mean it is all going to be rainbows and butterflies and never any type of hardship.  Relationships aren’t perfect so why should soul mates be?  And in my opinion Ryan and Carrie Ann are just that, soul mates.

I absolutely loved this one and am going to make the time to go back and read the books I missed out on as soon as I can.  A Taste Of Summer will have you hot and bothered, emotional, and will have you turning the pages from the beginning to the very end without taking a break.  Add this to your TBR people this is a great book.

 

Excerpt:

Summer skewered her with a harsh stare. “Stop acting like you don’t feel the connection we share.”
“That was a long time ago, Summer. You don’t know anything about me anymore.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong Red. I know exactly who you are. What you want. What makes you happy. You need a man who will want you for exactly who you are. Independent, hardworking, passionate, fun, bossy and as stubborn as the day is long…in Alaska.” In spite of his seriousness, she almost smiled. “You also need a man who’s confident enough to put you in your place occasionally.”
“Don’t forget faithful,” she stabbed, whirling her back to him. Her breasts on display to the great outdoors reaching for her shirt. Thrusting each arm into the oversized sleeves, she busied herself with the buttons. High strung emotions caused her fingers to tremble, hindering her progress. “That man doesn’t exist.”
She heard him make a scoffing sound as he latched his fingers around her wrist, turning her to face him. Her heart spurred into a frantic beat. His grip so gentle and caring that she had no chance at resisting him. The soft cotton fabric of her shirt listed open all the way to her navel and below. The slope of her full breasts fully exposed, yet he seemed enthralled with her face.
“Our connection is far more than physical. We share a closeness, an intimacy that stretches beyond that of past lovers, Carrie Ann. Our bodies, our energy, we vibrate on the same frequency.” A familiar strain in his tone, low and ragged, flooded her with memories of long nights filled with passion and companionship. “Your laugh reaches the darkest, dustiest corners of my soul and brings it to life. When you’re near me my heart feels fuller. My breath comes easier. My smile…fuck…I can’t wipe it off my face when I’m near you. I connect with you on every level of my being, Carrie Ann.”
“What are you? Some kind of inspirational relationship guru now?”
He ignored the dig. “You make me fall for you…every…single…time just by the way you look at me.”
Battling the oncoming waterworks burning the back of her eyes and nose, she willed her defenses, regarding him scornfully, “You just want a blow job or…or a fuck for the night.”
His eyes broadened. Her crudeness surprised him more than it shocked herself.
“Well, I do love the vision of your mouth wrapped around my cock.” He moved closer, coasting his fingers along the ridge of her jaw. “And I most certainly want to fuck you senseless.”
“I’m sure you’ve knocked sense into plenty of women.”
“Carrie Ann, I’ve never wanted to fuck another woman the way I want to fuck you.”
Her lip curled, repulsed by his words. Summer was visibly shaking. She started to pull away from him, but he gripped her arms.

“You’re also the only woman I can really talk to. And the woman I want to look into the future with. Plain and simple, Red. I just want you. Inside, outside, upside down and fucking sideways.” The demanding but gentle squeeze of his fingers around her biceps, drew a rush of breath from her lungs. A flash of belligerent male triumph ignited fire in his eyes. Apparently he was happy to have finally made his point. “Carrie Ann, you’re the only woman I want in my bed when I wake up every morning.” 

Haven’t read this series yet? 
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(Four Books for one low, low price)
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#1 Bestselling Author, Beverly Preston has been a stay at home mom for 21 years, although she prefers the title Domestic Engineer. Along the way, Beverly worked side by side with her husband Don, the love of her life, designing, building and selling custom homes. As her children begin to venture out on their own, she’s left to shed a tear—for a minute—wonder what’s next in life, and embrace the feeling of empowerment that surely must’ve been wrapped in a present she received on her fortieth birthday.
If Beverly isn’t at home riding her spin bike, you’ll find her spinning richly emotional and sinfully sexy romance stories.



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Book Tour: Outside By Michelle Mankin

Live each day as if it were your last. Worry only about yourself. Work hard and never, ever fall in love. That’s Olivia Buchanan’s motto and she stands by it every day.

Feisty, headstrong and confident, recent graduate Liv is fighting to succeed in the male dominated field she has chosen as her career. As an architect for her best friend’s father’s respected London based company, her chance to shine and become recognised comes when she lands the prestigious account for GO Sports and Leisure.

Armed with her plans and determination, Liv is ready to deliver the presentation of her life. That is, until he walks in. The mysterious personal trainer from the gym. The only man to have ever made her heart flutter. But he isn’t all he seems.

When MMA fighter, Nathan Oakes offers Liv a business proposition to join him in Southern France, she’s left questioning his motives and wonders if she should refuse. She’s also equally intrigued by the prospect of what the trip could do for her career.

Liv has no time for a relationship. Nate doesn’t want one. When forced to live side by side, feelings are stretched and emotions are battled. Can they keep their professional and personal lives separate, preventing them from falling into something they both need to avoid?

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Gu6aKm

Excerpt:
“Dammit, Mona.” I leaned in closer inhaling her sweet scent and nearly brought to my knees with desire. I wanted to have her. Right here. Right now. I had to curl my fingers into fists to keep from reaching out, grabbing her and reminding her how it used to be between us. Her lids lowered and her breathing turned ragged. Was she remembering, too, or trying to forget?
“Go away, Linc.” Apparently the latter.
“Maybe I can’t,” I admitted my voice raspy with stripped down need. “Maybe I don’t want to.”
“Don’t.” She closed her eyes and her chin dropped. “Don’t do this to me.” She wet her lips. They visibly trembled. Even though I knew I had upset her I still wanted to kiss them. “I’m not one of your groupies easily flattered by your bullshit. The fact that you’re a big rock star doesn’t impress me. I know who you really are Lincoln Savage. I’ve seen you at your best and I’ve survived you at your worst. So don’t think you can come here and play games with me.”
The bestselling author of the Black Cat Records series of novels.
Romance with subtext.
Reimagining classic stories with sexy rock stars and thought provoking issues.
Love Evolution, Love Revolution, and Love Resolution are a BRUTAL STRENGTH centered trilogy, combining the plot underpinnings of Shakespeare with the drama, excitement, and indisputable sexiness of the rock ‘n roll industry.
Things take a bit of an edgier, once upon a time turn with the TEMPEST series. These pierced, tatted, and troubled Seattle rockers are young and on the cusp of making it big, but with serious obstacles to overcome that may prevent them from ever getting there.
Rock stars, myths, and legends collide with paranormal romance in a totally mesmerizing way in the MAGIC series.
When Michelle is not prowling the streets of her Texas town listening to her rock music much too loud, she is putting her daydreams down on paper or traveling the world with her family and friends, sometimes for real, and sometimes just for pretend as she takes the children to school and back.



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Book Tour: Ruin & Rule By Pepper Winters

“We met in a nightmare. The in-between world where time had no power over reason. We fell in love. We fell hard. But then we woke up. And it was over . . .”
RUIN & RULE
She is a woman divided. Her past, present, and future are as twisted as the lies she’s lived for the past eight years. Desperate to get the truth, she must turn to the one man who may also be her greatest enemy . . .
He is the president of Pure Corruption MC. A heartless biker and retribution-deliverer. He accepts no rules, obeys no one, and lives only to reap revenge on those who wronged him. And now he has stolen her, body and soul.
Can a woman plagued by mystery fall in love with the man who refuses to face the truth? And can a man drenched in darkness forgo his quest for vengeance-and finally find redemption?
“Ruin & Rule is a full-length book at 436 pages and ends on a cliffhanger. Cleo and Kill’s story continues in SIN & SUFFER.”
I want to apologize right now for the swearing I will be doing in the following review, cause there will be some.  You have been warned.
What in the ever loving hell did I just read?  Like seriously, I do not think that my mind will ever become unfucked because it has been royally mind fucked.  And let me let you in on a little secret.  Come here, a little closer, a little closer. *Whispers I absolutely loved it!* Okay confession time, I have not read any of Pepper Winter’s previous books, and not because I know they will leave my mind destroyed, it’s just because I haven’t had the time to just sit down and devote the time I know it will take to be completely drawn into her previous books, but after reading Ruin & Rule I know I need to make that time a priority. 
I am not going to say much about the plot line or even characters because let’s be honest here, it would be way too easy for me to accidentally give spoilers away.  I am going to just say this little bit though.  Make sure when you start to read Ruin & Rulethat you won’t be disturbed because trust me when I say you won’t want to pull yourself away from every disturbing, edge of your seat, kindle throwing, loud cussing, mind fucking minute of it.  Oh I will say this, you will throw your kindle when you get to the end because there is a cliff hanger, in fact there may or may not be a dent in my wall from my kindle hitting it.  And as soon as the next book is released don’t you know I will be loving the torment it will put me through just  as much as I did Ruin & Rule with a little cussing and kindle throwing on the side.

Prologue
We met in a nightmare.
The in-between world where time had no power over rhyme, reason, or connection. We met. We stared. We knew.
There was no distortion from the outside world. No right or wrong. No confusion or battles from hearts and minds.
Just us. In our silent dreamworld.
That nightmare became our home. Planting ghosts, raising fantasies. Entwined together in our happily skewed reality.
We fell in love. We fell hard.
In those fleeting seconds of our nightmare, we lived an eternity.
But then we woke up.
And it was over.
Chapter One
I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking naïve. Life doesn’t reward—it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.
—Kill
[ORN_SB]
Darkness.
That was my world now. Literally and physically.
The back of my skull hurt from being knocked unconscious. My wrists and shoulders ached from lying on my back with my hands tied behind me.
Nothing was broken—at least it didn’t feel that way—but everything was bruised. The fuzziness receded wisp by wisp, parting the clouds of sleep, trying to shed light on what’d happened. But there was no light. My eyes blinked at the endless darkness from the mask tied around my head. Anxiety twisted my stomach at having such a fundamental gift taken away.
I didn’t move, but mentally catalogued my body from the tips of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. My jaw and tongue ached from the foul rag stuffed in my mouth and my nose permitted a shallow stream of oxygen to enter—just enough to keep me alive.
Fear tried to claw its way through my mind, but I shoved it away. I deliberately suppressed panic in order to assess my predicament rather than lose myself to terror.
Fear never helps, only hinders.
My senses came back, creeping tentatively, as if afraid whoever had stolen me would notice their return.
Sound: the squeak of brakes, the creak of a vehicle settling from motion to stopping.
Touch: the skin on my right forearm stung, throbbing with a mixture of soreness and sharpness. A burn perhaps?
Smell: dank rotting vegetables and the astringent, pungent scent of fear—but it wasn’t mine. It was theirs.
It wasn’t just me being kidnapped.
My heart flurried, drinking in their terror. It made my breath quicken and legs itch to run. Forcing myself to ignore the outside world, I focused inward. Clutching my inner strength where calmness was a need rather than a luxury.
I refused to lose myself in a fog of tears. Desperation was a curse and I wouldn’t succumb, because I had every intention of being prepared for what might happen next.
I hated the sniffles and stifled sobs of others around me. Their bleak sadness tugged at my heartstrings, making me fight with my own preservation, replacing it with concern for theirs.
Get through this, then worry about them.
I didn’t think this was a simple opportunistic snatch. Whoever had stolen me planned it. The hunch grew stronger as I searched inside for any liquor remnants or the smell of cigarettes.
Had I been at a party? Nightclub?
Nothing.
I hadn’t been stupid or reckless. I think…
No hint or clue as to where I’d been or what I’d been doing when they’d come for me.
I wriggled, trying to move away from the stench. My bound wrists protested, stinging as the rope around them gnawed into my flesh like twine-beasts. My ribs bellowed, along with my head. There was no give in my restraints. I stopped trying to move, preserving my energy.
I tried to swallow.
No saliva.
I tried to speak.
No voice.
I tried to remember what happened.
I tried to remember…
Panic.
Nothing.
I can’t remember.
“Get up, bitch,” a man said. Something jabbed me in the ribs. “Won’t tell you again. Get.”
I froze as my mind hurtled me from present to past.
I’ll miss you so much,” she wailed, hugging me tighter.
“I’m not dying, you know.” I tried to untangle myself, looking over my shoulder at the final call flashing for my flight. I hated being late for anything. Let alone my one chance at escaping and finding out the truth once and for all.
“Call me the moment you get there.”
“Promise.” I drew a cross over my heart—
The memory shattered as my horizontal body suddenly went vertical in one swoop.
Who was that girl? Why did I have no memory of it ever happening?
“I said get up, bitch.” The man breathed hard in my ear, sending a waft of reeking breath over me. The blindfold stole my sight, but it left my nose woefully unprotected.
Unfortunately.
My captor shoved me forward. The ground was steady beneath my feet. The sickness plaiting with my confusion faded, leaving me cold.
My legs stumbled in the direction he wanted me to go. I hated shuffling in the darkness, not knowing where I came from or where I was being herded. There were no sounds of comfort or smothered snickers. This wasn’t a masquerade.
This was real.
This is real.
My heart thudded harder, fear slipping through my defenses. But full-blown terror remained elusive. Slippery like a silver fish, darting on the outskirts of my mind. It was there but fleeting, keeping me clear-headed and strong.
I was grateful for that. Grateful that I maintained what dignity I had left—remaining strong even in the face of the unknown terrors lurking on the other side of my blindfold.
Moans and whimpers of other women grew in decibels as men ordered them to follow the same path I walked. Either death row or salvation, I had no choice but to inch my way forward, leaving my forgotten past behind.
I willed snippets to come back. I begged the puzzlement of my past to slot into place, so I could make sense of this horrible world I’d awoken in.
But my mind was locked to me. A fortress withholding everything I wished to know.
The pushing stopped. So did I.
Big mistake.
“Move.” A cuff to the back of my head sent me wheeling forward. I didn’t stop again. My bare feet traversed…wood?
Bare feet?
Where are my shoes?
The missing knowledge twisted my stomach.
Where did I come from?
How did I end up here?
What’s my name?
It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self. They’d stolen everything. My triumphs, my trespasses, my accomplishments and failures.
How could I deal with this new world if I didn’t know what skills I had to stay alive? How could I hope to defeat my enemy when my mind revolted and locked me out?
Who am I?
To have who I was deleted…It was unthinkable.
“Faster, bitch.” Something cold wedged against my spine, pushing me onward. With my hands behind my back, I shuffled faster, negotiating the ground as best I could for dips or trips.
“Step down.” The man grabbed my bound wrists, giving me something to lean against as my toes navigated the small steps before me.
“Again.”
I obeyed.
“Last one.”
I managed the small staircase without falling flat on my face.
My face.
What do I look like?
A loud scraping noise sounded before me. I shied back, bumping against a feminine form. The woman behind me cried out—the first verbal sound of another.
“Move.” The pressure on my lower back came again, and I obeyed. Inching forward until the stuffy air of old vegetables and must was replaced by…copper and metallic…blood?
Why…why is that so familiar?
I gasped as my mind free-fell into another memory.
“I don’t think I can do this.” I darted away, throwing up in the rubbish bin in the classroom. The unique stench of blood curdled my stomach.
“Don’t overthink it. It’s not what you’re doing to the animal to make it bleed. It’s what you’re doing to make it live.” My professor shook his head, waiting for me to swill out my mouth and return white-faced and queasy to the operation in progress.
My heart splintered like a broken piece of glass, reflecting the compassion and responsibility I felt for such an innocent creature. This little puppy that’d been dumped in a plastic bag to die after being shot with BB gun pellets. He’d survive only if I mastered the skills to stem his internal bleeding and embrace the vocation I was called to do.
Inhaling the scent of blood, I let it invade my nostrils, scald my throat, and impregnate my soul. I drank its coppery essence. I drenched myself in the smell of the creature’s life force until it no longer affected me.
Picking up a scalpel, I said, “I’m ready—”
“Holy fuck!” The man guiding me forward suddenly whacked the base of my spine. The hard pain shoved me forward and I tripped.
“Wire—get me fucking reinforcements. He’s started a motherfucking war!”
Wind and body motion swarmed me as men charged from behind. The darkness I lived in suddenly came alive with sound.
Bullets flew, impaling themselves into the metal sides of the vehicle I’d just stepped from. Pings and ricochets echoed in my ear. Curses bellowed; moans of pain threaded like a breeze.
Someone grabbed my arm, swinging me to the side. “Get down!” The inertia of his throw knocked me off balance. With my wrists bound together, I had nothing to grab with, no way to protect myself from falling.
I fell.
My stomach swooped as tumbled off a small platform and smashed against the ground.
Dirt, damp grass, and moldy leaves replaced the stench of blood, cutting through the cloying sharpness of spilled metallic. My mouth opened, gasping in pain. Blades of grass tickled my lips as my cheek stuck to wet mud.
My shoulder screamed with agony, but I ignored the new injury. My mind clung to the unlocked memory. The fleeting recollection of my profession.
I’m a vet.
The sense of homecoming and security that one little snippet brought was priceless. My soul snarled for more, suddenly ravenous for missing information.
I skipped straight from fumbling uncertainty into starvation for more.
Tell me! Show me. Who am I?
I searched inside for more clues. But it was like trying to grab on to an elusive dream, fading faster and faster the harder I chased.
I couldn’t remember anything about medicine or how to heal. All I knew was I’d been trained to embrace the scent of blood. I wasn’t afraid of it. I didn’t faint or suffer sickness at the sight of it pouring from an open wound.
That tiniest knowledge was enough to settle my prickling nerves and focus on the outside world again.
Battle cries. Men screaming. Men growling. The dense thuds of fists on flesh and the horrible deflection of gunshots.
I couldn’t understand. Had I fallen through time and entered an alternate dimension?
Another body landed on top of mine.
I cried out, winded from a sharp poke of an elbow to my ribs.
The figure rolled away, crying softly. Feminine.
Why aren’t I crying?
I once again searched for fear. It wasn’t natural not to be afraid. I’d woken up alone, stolen, and thrown into the middle of a war, yet I wasn’t hyperventilating or panicked.
My calmness was like a drug, oozing over me, muting the sharp starkness of my situation. It was bearable if I embraced courage and the knowledge that I was strong.
My hands balled, grateful for the thought. I didn’t know who I was, but it didn’t matter, because the person who I was in this moment mattered the most.
I had to remain segmented, so I could get through whatever was about to happen. All I had was gut instinct, quiet strength, and rationality. Everything else had been taken.
“Stop fighting, you fucking idiots!”
The loud growl rumbled like an earthquake, hushing the battle in one fell swoop. Whoever had spoken had power.
Immense power. Colossal power.
A shiver darted over my skin.
“What the fuck happened? Have you lost your goddamn lovin’ mind?” a man yelled.
A sound of a short scuffle, then the fresh whiff of tilled dirt graced my nose.
“It’s done. Throw down your weapons and bend a fucking knee.” The same earthquake rumbled. The weight of his command pushed me harder against the damp ground.
“I’m not bending nothing, you asshole. You aren’t my Prez!”
“I am. Have been for the past four years.”
“You’re not. You’re his bitch. Don’t think his power is yours.”
Another fight—muffled fists and kicks. It ended swiftly with a painful groan.
The earthquake voice came again. “Open your eyes and follow the red fucking river. Your chosen—the one you hand-picked to slaughter me and take over the Club—he’s dead. Did you ever stop to think Wallstreet made me Prez for a fucking reason?”
Another moan.
“I’m the chosen one. I’m the one who knows the family secrets, absorbed the legacy, and earned his way into power. You don’t know shit. Nobody does. So bend a fucking knee and respect.”
Another tremor ran down my back.
Silence for a time, apart from the squelch of boots and heavy breathing. Then a barely muttered curse. “You’ll die. One way or another, we won’t put up with a Dagger as a Prez. We’re the Corrupts, goddammit. Having a traitor rule us is a fucking joke.”
“I’m the traitor? The man who obeys your leader? Who guides in his stead? I’m the traitor when you try and rally my brothers in a war?” A heavy thud of a fist connected with flesh. “No…I’m not. You are.”
My mind raced, sucking up noises and forming wild conclusions of what happened before me. Was this World War Three? Was this the apocalypse of the life I couldn’t remember? No matter how I pieced it together, I couldn’t make sense of anything.
The air was thick with anticipation. I didn’t know how many men stood before me. I didn’t know how many corpses littered the ground, or how such violence could be permitted in the world I used to know. But I did know the cease-fire was fragile and any moment it would explode.
A single threat slithered through the grass like a snake. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker. Mark my words. The true Corrupts are just waiting to take you out.”
The gentle foot-thuds of someone large vibrated through the ground. “The Corrupts haven’t existed for four fucking years. The moment I took the seat, it’s been Pure Corruption all the way. And you’re not fucking pure enough for this Club. You’re done.”
I flinched as the sulfuric boom of a gun ripped through the stagnant air.
A crash as a body fell lifeless to the grass. A soft puff of a soul escaping.
Murder.
Murder was committed right before me.
The inherent need to nurture and heal—the part of me that was as steadfast as the beat of my heart—wept with regret.
Death was something I’d fought against on a daily basis, but now I was weaponless.
I hated that a life had been stolen right before me. That I hadn’t been able to stop it.
I’m a witness.
And yet, I’d witnessed nothing.
I’d been privy to a battle but seen nothing. Knew no one. I would never be able to tell who shot whom, or who was right and who was wrong.
My hands shook, even though I managed to stay eerily calm. Am I in shock? And if I was, how did I cure myself?
The woman beside me curled into a ball, her knees digging into my side. My first reaction was to repel away from the touch. I didn’t know who was friend or foe. But a second reaction came quickly; the urge to share my calmness—to let her know that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone. We faced the same future—no matter how grim.
Voices cascaded over us, whispers mainly, quickly spoken orders. Every sound was heightened. Being robbed of sight made my body seek other ways in which to find clues.
“Get rid of the bodies before daybreak.”
“We’ll go back and make sure we’re still covered.”
“Send out the word. It’s over. The Prez won—no anarchy today.”
Each voice was distinct but my ears twitched only for one: the earthquake rumble that set my skin quivering like quicksand.
He hadn’t spoken since he’d condemned someone to death and pulled the trigger. Every second of not hearing him made my heart trip faster. I wasn’t afraid. I should be. I should be immobile with fear. But he invoked something in me—something primal. Just like I knew I was female and a vet, I knew his voice meant something. Every inch of me tensed, waiting for him to speak. It was wrong to crave the voice of a killer, but it was the only thing I wanted.
Needed.
I need to know who he is.
Wet mud sucked loudly against boots as they came closer.
The woman whimpered, but I angled my chin toward the sound, wishing my eyes were uncovered.
I wanted to see. I wanted to witness the carnage before me. Because it was carnage. The stench of death confirmed it. It was morbid to want to see such destruction, but without my sight all of this seemed like a terrible nightmare. Nothing was grounded—completely nonsensical and far too strange.
I needed proof that this was real.
I needed concrete evidence that I wasn’t mad. That my body was intact, even if my mind was not.
I sucked in a breath as warm fingers touched my cheek, angling my face upward and out of the mud. Strong hands caressed the back of my skull, fumbling with my blindfold.
The anticipation of finally getting my wish to see made me stay still and cooperative in his hold.
I didn’t say a word or move. I just waited. And breathed. And listened.
The man’s breath was heavy and low, interspersed with a quick catch of pain. His fingers were swift and sure, but unable to hide the small fumble of agony.
He’s hurt.
The pressure of the blindfold suddenly released, trading opaque darkness for a new kind of gloom.
Night sky. Moonshine. Stars above.
Anchors of a world I knew, but no recognition of the dark-shrouded industrial estate where blood gleamed silver-black and corpses dotted the field.
I’m alive.
I can see.
The joy at having my eyes freed came and went as blazing as a comet.
Then my life ended as our gazes connected.
Green to green.
I have green eyes.
Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches.
My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.
The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart.
I quivered. I quaked.
Something howled deep inside with age-old knowledge.
Every part of me arched toward him, then shied away in terror.
Him.
A nightmare come to life.
A nightmare I wanted to live.
If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.
Jaw-length dark hair, tangled and sweaty, framed a square jaw, straight nose, and full lips. His five-o’clock stubble held remnants of war, streaked with dirt and blood. But it was his eyes that shot a quivering arrow into my heart, spreading his emerald anger.
He froze, his body curving toward mine. Blistering hope flickered across his features. His mouth fell open and love so achingly deep glowed in his gaze. “What—” A leg gave out, making him kneel beside me. His hands shook as he cupped my face, his fingers digging painfully into my cheekbones. “It’s not—”
My heart raced. Yes.
“You know me,” I breathed.
The moment my voice webbed around us, storm clouds rolled over the sunshine in his face, blackening the hope and replacing it with pure hatred.
He changed from watching me like I was his angel to glowering as if I were a despicable devil.
I shivered at the change—at the iciness and hardness. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling. His lips parted, a rumbling command falling from his mouth to my ears. “Stand up. You’re mine now.”
When I didn’t move, his hand landed on my side. His touch was blocked by clothing but I felt it everywhere. He stroked my soul, tickled my heart, and caressed every cell with fingers that despised me.
I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.
With a vicious push, he rolled me over, and with a sharp blade sliced my bindings. With effortless power, so thrilling and terrifying, he hauled me to my feet.
I didn’t sway. I didn’t cry. Only pulled the disgusting gag from my mouth and stared in silence.
I stared up, up, up into his bright green eyes, understanding something I shouldn’t understand.
This was him.

My nightmare.
About the Author:

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.
Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)
Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed

Book Tour: Fighting Shadows By: Aly Martinez

I come from a family of fighters. I always thought I’d follow in their shadows, becoming unstoppable in the ring. That changed the day I saved the life of a woman I loved, but could never have.
 My brother hailed me as a hero, and my reward was a wheelchair.
 Paralyzed, my life became an inescapable nightmare.
 Until I met her.
 Ash Mabie had a heart-stopping smile and a laugh that numbed the rage and resentment brewing inside of me. She showed me that even the darkest night still had stars, and it didn’t matter one bit that you had to lie in the weeds to see them.
 I was a jaded asshole who fell for a girl with a knack for running away. I couldn’t even walk but I would have spent a lifetime chasing her.
 Now, I’m on the ropes during the toughest battles of my life.
Fighting the shadows of our past.
Fighting to reclaim my future.

Fighting for her. 

I knew going into Fighting Shadows that this was going to be one that would make me feel all the feels, and I felt them intensely.  I had wanted to read Flint’s book ever since I finished Fighting Silence, but while I knew how emotional this would be I had forgotten how beautifully Ms. Martinez can make you just so invested in the words she writes, and how she can pull the emotions so easily from inside of you that her books find a little spot in your heart and stay there with no chance in ever leaving.  I devoured Fighting Shadows, I couldn’t walk away and I didn’t want to either. 
The pain that Flint felt (both emotional and physical), the anger he had festering deep inside and the loss of the use of his legs had me crying for him, had me wanting to smack him when he would be an asshole, and had me laughing when a little of the old Flint would come through.  He had so much going on and no way to really channel all those emotions that he almost allowed that bitterness that was growing inside take over completely. 
Ash was living in her own version of pain and hell but the way she wanted to make Flint smile or laugh and worked hard for it to happen showed how deep inside she was just as beautiful on the inside as the outside.  I felt for her past, the pain of what she was forced to do and the shame that followed.  I hated how Flint hurt her when that asshole side would come out.  I loved how she not only healed Flint but healed herself and others as well.  I really just loved Ash period, especially because she loved Flint.
I can’t wait for Quarry’s story to come out, I have a feeling that it is going to surpass both Fighting Silence and Fighting Shadows when it comes to the emotions it creates, the tears it will cause to shed, and every other emotion possible.  If you haven’t checked out this series yet please don’t wait because you do not want to miss out on these amazing books.  
NOW AVAILABLE

**Each book in the series can be read as a standalone**

 Excerpt:

“Hey, Flint? What time is it?” Quarry asked.

Ash’s smile actually slipped completely. For the briefest of seconds, she appeared almost ashamed.

I dragged my eyes away from her in order to answer his question, but as I looked at my wrist, I had no answer at all.

“Here,” she said as she pulled my watch from her pocket.

What. The. Fuck?

Quarry howled with laughter, and Ash chewed on her bottom lip.

“Explain,” I demanded, wrapping my watch back around my wrist and shoving my wallet in the front pocket of my hoodie.

Quarry filled in the blank. “She’s a pickpocket, dude. You should have seen her when she fell on your lap. It was so fucking fast. She straight-up stole that shit from you, and you had no fucking clue.”

“I didn’t steal it! I was gonna give it back,” she amended uncomfortably. “It was just a joke.”

A joke.

A. Fucking. Joke.

And just like that, I remembered why I didn’t laugh anymore.

“Was it funny? Stealing from the cripple? You get a good laugh out of that?” I snapped, spinning and rolling myself away. “You know, maybe my judgment of you wasn’t all that off to begin with. Like father, like daughter, I guess.” It was a low blow, but I felt completely betrayed by a woman I didn’t even know.

“Flint, wait. I wasn’t picking on the cripple!”

I fully realized that I had just used the term, but it enraged me that she’d had the audacity to repeat it back to me. Who the hell was this chick? I pushed a hand into my pocket, searching for my keys. Fuck the food. I’d leave her ass there. Hell, Quarry too if he didn’t get his ass to the car.

“Get in the car, Q!” I yelled, only to close my eyes and drop my chin to my chest when my hand never made contact on the keys. “Son of a bitch,” I said as I spun back around.

Quarry was laughing next to her, but Ash’s cheeks were bright red.

“Keys.” I snapped my fingers and opened my hand, palm up.

“Stop being a dick,” Quarry said, casually tossing an arm around Ash’s shoulders.

She didn’t budge as she held my glare.

“Keys,” I repeated, but she remained still.

“It was a joke.” Her chin began to quiver.

For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t in any kind of mood to deal with bullshit from some girl I didn’t even know and was quickly discovering I didn’t care to know, either.

Quarry’s eyes grew wide as she turned to him and buried her cries in his chest.

What the fuck, asshole! Q signed before rubbing his hands over her back.

Her shoulders shook as she let out a loud sob that shocked us both.

“Come on. Let’s sit down.” Q tried to guide her over to an empty table.

Ash refused to look up and tripped over one of the chairs.

“Shit,” Q said, catching her around the waist.

I was just about to roll my eyes when she glanced my way. He was still trying to get her back on her feet and over to a table when her tear-free, bright-blue eyes pointedly glanced in my direction. My head snapped back in surprise, but a smile grew on her face.

Ash was about to put on a show, and with that one look, she had invited me to have a front-row seat.

As she floundered all over Quarry, her hands slid between his pockets and her own. Every noise she made and each time she flailed covered up a jarring movement. She was keeping his mind too busy for it to process all the places she was touching him. Hell, I was only watching her and I could barely keep up.

There was no denying that it was entertaining, but I wasn’t willing to show her that. However, as she accidentally lifted her knee, catching Q in the balls, a laugh erupted from my throat. He cupped his crotch while she apologized profusely and pushed him toward the same chair he’d been dragging her to only seconds before. Just before he sat, Ash swung her arm out, unwinding Q’s belt from around his body before tossing it at me.

“Oh God. I’m so sorry!” she said as Quarry held a finger up to ask for a second to recover. She didn’t wait at all though. Instead, she walked over in my direction; her prideful smile grew with every step.

She pulled my keys out of her pocket and dropped them into my lap. They were quickly followed by Quarry’s phone, wallet, and house keys. Then she snagged his belt off the floor and tossed it over her shoulder.

“It had absolutely nothing to do with you being in a wheelchair. It was a joke and it wasn’t supposed to piss you off.”

“Hey!” Quarry yelled. “That was messed up. You did not have to knee me in the balls to prove a point to him.”

“Oh, that wasn’t to prove a point. That was for bullshitting me. You knew good and damn well that he wouldn’t find it funny,” she said without ever tearing her gaze from mine. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t have a lot of friends. And I’ve mentally noted that pickpocketing might not be the best way to make new ones.” She shrugged. “Consider it a lesson learned.”

“Three burgers all the way, onion rings, and a shake?” the guy at the counter called out.

Ash arched an eyebrow. “You want it to go, or are we good?”

I didn’t have to drop my attitude. Sure, she’d apologized, but while I might have had a short fuse, I also had a hell of a long burn. However, as she stood in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest and her blue eyes pleading for forgiveness, it magically fell away.

I swallowed hard. “No. We’re good.”

“You sure?” She leaned in, eyeing me warily, but her smile began to grow.

I swear to God it pulled at my lips as well. I fought it. But the harder I tried to keep it restrained, the bigger Ash’s grew. She was stealing my smile. The chick was good! Finally, with an eye roll, I let out a quiet chuckle, which seemed to appease her.

“Good. Now, help your brother get redressed and I’ll make the fancy sauce.” She waggled her eyebrows.

Haven’t read this series yet?  Meet Flint Quarry, Till & Eliza
in Fighting Silence

About the Author
Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.
After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.


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Book Tour: Katherine In Gold By J.B. Hartnett

*Warning: this is a love story with sexual situations and copious swearing. It also deals with an inappropriate relationship between an underage girl and a much older man.

When Katherine Symes experiences heartbreak at the age of twenty, she picks herself up, dusts herself off, and declares no man will ever break her again. The independent, potty-mouthed Katherine makes no apologies for how she lives her life. Marriage, babies, and husbands are ideas she’s never even entertained. There is only one thing she’s never had the guts to do.

Open her own cafe.

The day of her best friend’s engagement, a stranger bulldozes his way into her life. Handsome, tall, and annoying as hell, he pushes all her buttons. A mutual acquaintance introduces them, and the stranger, Holst Rutherford, wastes no time in presenting Katherine with half ownership in a coffee shop he wants to open in Laguna Beach; he just doesn’t want to do it alone.

Can she put up with Holst to achieve her lifelong dream?

Holst moved to the coastal town of Laguna Beach with clear intentions: a fresh start, concentrate on his new business, and enjoy the beach at his doorstep. After ending a toxic relationship, he never considered entering a new one. But there is something about the ever-combative Katherine which makes him realize she could be much more than a business partner. She just might be the one.

However, she is going to need a little convincing.

First and foremost, go back up and rea the warning at the top.  Go ahead I will give you a few minutes to scroll back up and read it.  Now, if you read it do you see one of the reasons why I had to sign up and read the book?  Hello copious swearing!  Now by now if you have read my reviews you know me and swear words go hand in hand so after reading that warning did you even have any doubt that I would love Katherine In Gold?
Okay this is going to hopefully be short and sweet and possibly will contain a few swear words in honor of the book.  Katherine In Gold is the second book in the Beachy Bride series and can be read as a standalone, although I loved the first book and think you should check it out.  Katherine In Gold is one of the best books I have read in a while because not only did it make me laugh, and it did a lot, it also had the perfect amount of issues between Katherine and Holst but those issues didn’t become overdone or annoying.  Add to that this is one sexy book and I was in heaven.  Katherine is smart assed, sassy and strong, but she has also been through some things that make you want to hold her tight.  Holst is just yummy sexy I want a Holst of my own goodness.  You will also have a new appreciation for the word “whore”, hell that’s my nickname or well it’s used in a variety of nicknames for me and even I love it more now.
Seriously just go pick up a copy of Katherine In Gold and read it.  While I am not also super critical of everything I read it is hard to get a five star rating from me and Katherine In Gold was a five star read for this book whore.  I can’t wait to read more from this author because I am already hooked on her writing style.
Excerpt:

Most people think the term “whore” is either an occupation or an insult, but I used it as a term of affection. I wasn’t even sure how it began, but I often said it to Tori, and when I did, it came from a place of love.

Tori took a sip from her coffee and lifted her eyes from the message. “Dude.”

“Dude,” much like the word “whore” or even “fuck,” also had many meanings and uses. It was all in the way you said it.

Have you met Cameron & Victoria from Bride in Bloom (Book One) yet? 
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About the Author
Julie is a Southern California native, a fan of a really good story (preferably romance with a happily ever after), really good pie (preferably pumpkin) and copious amounts of coffee (preferably Folgers).
She has always enjoyed writing and at one time thought she could be a singer songwriter…the ‘writer’ part is the one that stuck.
Julie is obsessed with pi…the equation(and the food). She’s allergic to cats and cantaloupe and hates mushrooms…so if you ever want to give her a gift, those are out for sure.She currently lives with her own romance hero husband and two boys in Melbourne, Australia.

Book Tour: Pieces Of One Part 1 By SVC Ricketts

TOUR BANNER PIECES OF ONE
 
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Two men want me and I, them. Simple, right? Not like this.

For over two years, I’ve been dealing with a pain in the ass MY way.

Separately.

She has her life and I have mine. They don’t intermingle. It’s the only way to keep things rational. But now she’s done something monumentally stupid and the only way to untangle myself from her mess is to live life in her shoes. Me, on the run in five inch stilettos. Great.

My name is Trista Dividir. I have Dissociative Identity Disorder and Marvy is my other personality, my alter.

To get my life back, I lie, I cheat, and I fall for both of her lovers. Little do I know, I am not the only liar.

Did I mention I have another alter? Yeah, I didn’t know about her either.

Book one in a three part romantic suspense series with a smattering of smexy in between. In the end, you’ll find your HEA…maybe.

Due to mature content and excessive whatever, this is a recommended read for age 18+.

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SVC Ricketts is a Contemporary Romance author and professional smart alec (self-professed). Her work has been recognized by the Pacific Northwest Writers Association and was selected as a finalist for the 2013 PNWA Literary Competition in the Romance category.

Raised between Southern California and Oahu, she moved to the Pacific Northwest in 1993 and although she loves it here, her heart belongs to the Islands – it always will. When she’s not in, what she loving calls “book-mode,” she multitasks her life between her hilarious adult special needs daughter, super smexy husband of 11 years, two dogs, and sweating out her stress in a hot yoga studio.

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